Tumgik
#but they had an agenda with Leon
ovaryacted · 3 months
Text
I literally love all versions of Leon Kennedy (turn around Degeneration Leon. No, not you Damnation Leon. Fortnite Leon yes I’m talking to you get in here!), but RE6 Leon hits so different. Like okay the game is kinda crazy when it comes to the actual writing but Matthew Mercer voicing the next time we actually see Leon in a RE video game again and forward so it’s like his voice got deeper as he ages is so…whew.
Idk it’s just something about how he says “You’re starting to grow on me a little” that just makes me tweak the fuck out. WHO WROTE THAT LINE? WHO MADE THAT UP? WAS IT SOMEONE WHO WROTE THE SCRIPT? WAS IT MATT JUST FREE STYLING? Literally to me, it was as if everybody who worked on RE6 knew that the writing may be fucking messy, but one thing remained constant: make Leon sexy for no reason. Everything was just so erotic and sensual with Leon in RE6. The walk, the fucking tight ass vest they gave him that fits his slutty waist like a corset, his (gay) fight with Chris, his lines, the fact that he’s ambidextrous and can wield weapons with both hands on top of punching enemies directly and manhandling them…
RE6 Leon Kennedy…baby you’ve moved me, you’ve moved mountains. Come home. The kids miss you.
151 notes · View notes
taizi · 1 year
Note
If you’re still taking prompts… disaster twins being disasters?
x
Casey can remember being this excited maybe once or twice before in his entire life, but that’s it. He doesn’t realize he’s bouncing in his seat until Michelangelo flops over him, arms folded around Casey’s shoulders and chin propped up on top of his head, grin present in the bright tone of his voice. 
“We might be hyping this up too much,” the youngest Hamato—second-youngest, now, Casey reminds himself somewhat shyly—says good-naturedly. “It’s just a spar, CJ.” 
“I know,” Casey says quickly, clamping his hands on his knees. He feels like a little kid again, being warned that if he can’t sit still he can’t stay in the dojo to watch training. That’s not anywhere near what Mikey said, but he’s not risking it! He refuses to miss this! “But it’s just—I haven’t seen sensei spar with anyone but Commander O’Neil in ages.”
He doesn’t say that Uncle Raph was killed when Casey was so young that he barely got to keep any memories of him. He definitely doesn’t say that when Uncle Tello died, sensei destroyed a string of Krang corps single-handedly, stumbled home half-dead, and then didn’t come out of the silent lab for three days. When he did finally emerge, some intrinsic, important part of him was gone for good. 
By then, Master Michelangelo was too brittle for physical combat, pouring all of himself into the mystic arts instead. April was the only one left who was unafraid to drag Master Leonardo onto the mats, to bring some life back into him. And it was fun to watch, but it wasn’t those high-energy spars he could remember being awed by when he was a child, when all four of the turtles were together and the apocalypse seemed like something they might survive after all. 
“I bet I whooped his butt, too,” April interjects loudly from the cozy-looking beanbag chair she dragged into the dojo. Leo shoots her a mock-offended look, hand over his heart, the whole nine yards. 
He’s wearing a pair of bright pink cordless headphones, and his warm-up stretches have a lot more energetic bopping around than perhaps strictly necessary. Raph is smiling crookedly as he guides Leo through the forms, watching carefully for any sign of lingering tenderness or soreness and finding none. He’s probably as relieved as all the rest of their mismatched little clan that Leo has healed to this point—casts and leg brace finally discarded, energy ratcheted up to eleven. 
Across the mat, Donnie is pretending to be buried in his phone, but he’s watching Leo as raptly as Raphael. If he thought for a second that Leo was nursing some hidden-away hurt, he would find a way to divert the match without anyone the wiser. And it would be something needlessly showy and stupid, too—Casey has the sudden vision of a lair-wide blackout. He pats the penlight clipped to his belt to make sure it’s there, just in case. 
But Leo is in fine form, and Splinter steps onto the middle of the mat with a judicious air. 
“Now I want a clean match, boys,” he orders, arms folded. “No shenanigans!” 
“Aw, not even one?” Mikey pipes up. 
The Hamato patriarch considers this carefully, then says, “I will allow ONE shenanigan!”
“Alright Michael!” Leo cheers. “Use those favorite son privileges for good!” He barely dodges the half-hearted strike from Splinter’s tail. 
Then Raphael is placing his hands on Leo’s shoulders and giving him a friendly jostle, in the manner of ruffling a puppy’s ears to get it all riled up (a life-affirming maneuver that Casey only recently discovered for himself one early morning coffee run with Cass when they crossed paths with a nice lady and her wriggly baby pit bull) and Splinter is stepping back off the mat and Donnie is sliding his phone away. 
“Let me know if you need me to go easy on you, little brother,” Donnie says magnanimously. 
“You hatched four minutes before me,” Leo replies. His tone suggests this is an argument they’ve had at least one billion times. 
“No one likes a sore loser, Nardo.”
April makes a coughing, cackling sound, and then shouts, “Someone get ready to do the heimlich! My man’s gonna choke on that hypocrisy!” 
“APRIL, you were adopted and you can be replaced!” Donnie shouts back over everyone’s laughter. Casey feels like he’s sitting in the sun, surrounded on all sides by warmth and light. He was raised on the scraps of a ruined world, the scraps of love and joy that his family had left to offer him. They gave him everything they could, but he knew they were digging into the bottom of the well. Here, those things are a renewable resource. All the good just stretches and stretches and stretches forever. 
Master Leonardo was not a bitter person. But he was very rarely a happy one. Uncle Tello and Rapha were gone and Master Michelangelo was aging rapidly before his eyes, three times as quickly as he should have. April and mom and all the faces that Casey saw everyday were weary and worn thin, constantly braced for the next horrible thing to come. 
It heals something in Casey’s chest that he didn’t know was hurting to see them like this instead. A festering, years-old wound finally draining, finally given clean air and room to heal. April’s still heckling and Mikey is still draped over Casey, sturdy and boyish and the brightest thing for miles. Raphael is leaning against the wall, grinning, as eager to watch the show as everyone else. Splinter looks unrelentingly fond and also like he’s expecting this to be a trainwreck. 
In the second before Splinter calls the beginning of the match, Donnie’s eyes narrow suspiciously and he says, “Wait, what are you listening to?”
A shit-eating grin stretches across Leo’s face, and in lieu of answering out loud, he lifts a hand and dramatically finger-spells K-A-R-M-A. 
“Oooooooh,” Mikey and Raph and April all chorus delightedly. 
“Oh, goddammit,” Donnie bites out, visibly preparing to fight for his life. 
Then Splinter’s hands come down and the twins burst into movement. There are no weapons in their hands, it’s nowhere near as showy as their fight with the Krang had been, but it’s amazing in its own way. 
They’re fast, much faster than the masters of Casey’s timeline because they’re so little in comparison, lean and lithe and all gremlin energy. The two of them move like they know each other as well as their own selves, the blocks and blows meeting as if they were choreographed well in advance, and every step is so quick and so clean that Casey can barely follow it. Five minutes in, Leo’s eyes glow white and then Donnie’s do, and Donnie barks out a surprised laugh. 
Mikey yells, “No inside jokes that’s not fair!” 
“It’s a nice break from that song. I've heard him humming it in the back of my brain all day,” Raph says ruefully, then quickly holds his hands up when Leo’s head whips around in his direction. “No offense! I like it! Just not—not 16 times in a row, big guy.”
Splinter steps in the instant Leo winces, having landed too heavily on his bad leg after a showy flip. 
“Alright, silly melons, that’s enough. Match goes to neither of you because you play too much.” 
Whatever complaint the twins might have made is entirely forgotten as they turn to face their dad blankly. Donnie says, “I’m sorry, did you just call us silly melons?” 
“Melons are green, yes? And stupidly expensive at all times for no reason.” He pulls a paperback book out of the inner fold of his robe and thumbs through it. “Children like nicknames. The experts have said so.”
Looking torn between helpless confusion and hysterical laughter, Raph says, “What are you reading, pops?”
“Melons cost like $8 in Chinatown when they're in season, where the heck have you been shopping?” Mikey interjects loudly, shooting over the back of the couch like spending too much of the grocery fund on overpriced produce is the first and final straw. 
“Seriously, Splints, what are you reading?” April asks, trying to get the book from him. 
“Silly melons??” Donnie and Leo demand again. Training for the day is entirely derailed, though that might have been Splinter’s ploy in the first place. 
Master Leonardo wasn’t a bitter person. Despite the weight of the world on his shoulders and all the losses he carried around in his heart, Casey’s memories of him are good and warm and only bittersweet because of those final moments, and because of how much Casey misses him every day. Still—even if he was careful not to let it show—Casey knows that Master Leonardo didn’t have a lot of opportunities for joy. 
That’s the thing that’s taken the most getting used to here, Casey thinks, watching everyone. That’s the difference his family makes. This Leo doesn’t have to reach very far for a reason to smile. 
He glances over his shoulder and his smile widens to include Casey, and Casey hurries off the sidelines to join the rest of them. 
214 notes · View notes
desertsportshipping · 10 days
Text
Wes's battling style: Brutally efficient, not even giving his Pokemon orders and trusting their judgements (usually cause he's also throwing hands), teaching his Pokemon every move and TM he can so they have a wide variety of moves to use, in the Colosseum's he'll lean into the bloodthirsty a little for the audience but otherwise it's the same
Leon’s battling style: Highly skilled but mostly focused on putting on a good show for the audience, he's never been backed into enough of a corner to where he has to abandon the show, although through osmosis he's been taking on a bit of Wes's brutality without realizing
Therefore, Gloria and Hop, pulling from both of their brothers, would have the most chaotic fighting style ever.
3 notes · View notes
dollfacefantasy · 7 months
Text
Let Them See
Tumblr media
pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader
summary: leon teases you while you're at the bookstore. on the way home, he has to pull over to deal with it.
cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, oral (m receiving), daddy kink, praise/degradation, dubcon elements (reader is scared of being caught), thigh fucking, he cums inside, car sex, road head, teasing in public, crying, sub space (forgive me if i'm using that incorrectly)
word count: 4.9k
a/n: i feel absolutely depraved. thank you to @sleepyluxe for the idea. this does reference my other fic, but it's not important to the plot. just if you read that one, this is like a little sequel! if you sent me a request, i am working on it, please be patient with me. i hope everyone enjoys. special smooches to everyone who reblogs and comments and sends me asks :) you don't know how much it means to me <3
tags: @dwkfan @tosuckmyweenis @pupthepokemonenthusiast @sleepyluxe @petitecolibri @death-paint @luniaxi @bizzarethirst lmk if you would like to be added to the list!
Tumblr media
You gaze out the window of the car, looking around at the beautiful day outside the glass. You softly hum along to the song playing on the radio as Leon’s fingers rub tiny circles on your inner thigh. You occasionally look over at him to watch him drive, your eyes full of all the love in the world. Your boyfriend finally had some time off, and he was spending it with you.
The entire day so far consisted of the two of you going around and just doing whatever you wanted. Just having fun together. Now, you were on the way to the bookstore. You had no shopping agenda, it was just another stop on your series of activities.
He pulls the car into a parking space near the shop and shuts it off. He squeezes your thigh once more before leaning over to kiss your cheek.
“You ready, sweetheart?” he asks while stroking your face softly.
You nod and lean in for one more sweet kiss. 
The two of you exit the car and head towards the store. Your hand finds his immediately, interlacing your fingers together. You lean your head against his shoulder as the automatic doors glide apart to let you in. His expression softens when you display your need to be close, and he kisses the crown of your head.
You wander the aisles together, looking through different sections and pointing out different things you’d read or wanted to read. Eventually, you end up in the romance section. Leon shifts his position to stand behind you and watch from over your shoulder. His arms circle your form, encasing you against his chest while he nuzzles the side of your head and kisses your cheek a few times.
You smile and turn your head slightly to give him a small kiss as you read the synopsis of the book in your hand. You guessed he had missed you lately since he’d been working so much. He was usually pretty attached to you right after coming home, and you never minded because why would you? If he needed extra affection, you would never deny him that.
Your intuition was half-correct because your boyfriend had missed you and did want to be in physical contact with you constantly right now, but the reason behind his current touchiness was a different type of longing.
He was so pent up from being away from you. A couple of days before he left for his last mission you had let it slip that you wanted to call him Daddy, and he had been feeling wild ever since. Sure, he’d fucked you until you couldn’t walk prior to him leaving and spent nearly all of last night inside of you, but it wasn’t enough. He craved you so deeply. He could feel every cell in his body yearning for you.
In his time away, it felt as if images of you clouded his mind in every waking moment. If he wasn’t actively fighting for his life, but even in those moments too sometimes, he was thinking of you. Your blissed out, flushed face, and your soft parted lips spilling entrancing sounds of pleasure. The way he could nearly see a physical change once you heard him praise you or remind you to be good for Daddy haunted him each minute he was across the globe from you.
It was like a new part of you had been unlocked to him. A side of you that looked at him with such reverence that he almost couldn’t stand it. He loved every facet of your personality, but this piece of you that wanted nothing more than to love him and be taken care of drove him up the wall.
He takes a deep breath while peppering the side of your neck with gentle kisses, inhaling your scent. He lets out a hum next to your ear, quiet enough so only you can hear, but in a tone to let you know what he desires. 
Despite his hinting, you just smile again and give him another chaste kiss. You were still too focused on that book for his liking. He watches you flip through the pages and scan different passages. He is disinterested for the most part until a certain section of words catches his eye.
“His manhood glides into her sopping heat,” he reads with a low chuckle. He gives you another peck on your temple. “This what you read when I’m gone, honey? So dirty, but I guess I should’ve known.”
“Oh, shut up,” you say with a roll of your eyes. You gently jab your elbow back into his abdomen.
That makes him smile and hold you even tighter against his broad front. His hands slowly rub either side of your body while his warm breath is blowing over your neck.
“No, it’s ok, baby. I know you’re insatiable. You gotta take care of yourself somehow when I’m not there,” he says quietly against your skin.
“Leon,” you say in a warning tone. It wasn’t so much what he was saying that was starting to get you hot. It was the low rumble of his voice, his lips brushing your throat, and his thick biceps locked around you like boa constrictors.
“I can just see it. You in bed, book in one hand, the other down your shorts, those fingers playing with your pretty, aching pussy. Hips bucking while you bite your lip,” he breathes, “But it’s probably not enough, is it? No, I’ve got you trained so well, baby girl. I know you can’t cum without Daddy’s help. I bet you call out for me when I’m not there, wishing it was me buried between those cute legs instead of your hand.”
“Leon,” you say, trying to speak in a warning tone, but it comes out as a soft whine. Your cheeks felt hot and your head a little dizzy.
“Leon?” he mocks, “That’s not who you were crying for last night, sweetheart.”
“Daddy,” you correct yourself quietly, turning your head to look into his eyes. His lips curl further into a predatory grin.
“That’s it. Good girl,” he coos and kisses your nose, “Daddy’s girl is so smart, remembering things like that. Good to know you keep some of that mind after I fuck it dumb all night.”
The way he taunts you makes it feel like your knees are going to buckle. You try to plead with him through your eyes. The aisle you were in was empty and towards the back of the store, but your mind was running rampant with thoughts of someone else catching the words that left his mouth.
“What’s that look for, princess?” he laughs in a hushed tone, “I thought you loved when I talked like that.”
“What if someone hears?” you ask softly.
“Oh, baby,” he coos, “Are you afraid of someone seeing how pathetic you are for Daddy?”
Heat bunches in your lower abdomen making you shift a little. You nod.
“Scared of someone seeing how you rub those gorgeous thighs together? How you can’t meet anyone’s eyes? How you have to hold Daddy’s hand to feel ok?” he whispers before nipping at your earlobe, “And all just from a few words.”
Your breath hitches and you fight to keep the whimper blossoming in your throat inside. “We’ll get in trouble,” you say, your voice shaking.
“Aw, my sweet girl doesn’t want to get in trouble?” he teases, “Baby, we’re just talking. If you can just keep yourself under control, we’ll be fine. I know it’s hard for you though. You hear Daddy, and you become such a needy little slut.”
Your head hangs forward a bit. You stare at the ground trying not to let yourself lose it in public. You were slipping into that state of mind where all you wanted was to be good for him. You wanted to just drop to your knees and have him pet your head while you sucked him off.
He knows what’s going through your mind. He can read you like no other. One of his hands slides down to your stomach to gently caress you there. The book you were holding was long forgotten, and Leon smiles wide as you push it back onto the shelf.
“I mean, even if someone did hear me, it wouldn’t be that bad, would it? It’s not like they’re seeing you when we’re alone. When you’re whining and crying for my cock like a bitch in heat,” he rasps.
“Daddy, stop,” you whimper. You felt hot and achy with need. You just wanted him to hold you and fuck you until you couldn’t think, but you were stuck in the middle of this store with bright lights and people walking around and nowhere to be alone.
“Do you really want me to stop, angel?” he asks, “I know you love this. I know you love feeling all shy and needing me to make it better. I think deep down you want everyone to know what a whore you are for me. You want ‘em to know how I own you.”
You bite your lip. You were getting so turned on, you felt like you could cry. The mix of shame and arousal swirls inside your head and pushes all other thoughts out. It was just you and Leon right now, no one else mattered. Being seen like this was becoming less of a worry to you.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he says with a smirk, “I know you love it. I bet you if I put my hand down your pants right now, you’d soak my fingers. I just know you’re dripping from being reminded how pathetic you are for me.”
You turn around in his hold to hide your face against his chest. Your arms wrap around his body so that you’re as close as possible. If someone else saw you now, they might just think you were having a bad day and Leon was comforting you in earnest.
Your display of submission amuses him. His face is smug. He rubs your back and cradles your head.
“Aw, baby, are you gonna cry? Is this too much for you, sweetheart? Are you embarrassed I can get you this desperate from my voice alone?” he croons.
“Yes,” you say. Your tone is desperate, both for him and to leave the store.
“But why are you embarrassed, honey? You like being claimed, don’t you?” he coos and tilts your head up by your chin, taking in your flustered expression, “Yeah, you like when people see us, and they know that you’re mine just from one look. So what is there to be embarrassed about, babydoll?”
“I like it… but… I just… because-” you struggle to articulate yourself as you gaze into his piercing eyes and he begins rubbing his knuckles along your jawline.
“Because you don’t want anyone else knowing? No one else can see how much you like being controlled because it’s shameful, isn’t it? It’s humiliating to admit that you like me controlling everything, from the number of times you cum at night down to the clothes you wear when you wake up in the morning. No one else should know the infinite amount of vile, disgusting things you would do if I just asked you to,” he whispers and kisses your hairline.
He swipes his thumb across your lips slowly as he talks. When he’s done, he sticks the digit between your lips. You gently suck on it, maintaining eye contact with him all the while.
His eyebrows raise, indicating how pleased he is with you. “I really do have you perfectly trained. You don’t even think about it anymore. You feel any part of me in your mouth and you know to start sucking like a good little slut.” He pulls his thumb back out and smears your saliva over your lips.
“Can we just leave?” you ask softly, your eyes casting down again, “Please.”
“What? You don’t want to buy anything? You know I’ll pay,” he teases, knowing that shopping couldn’t be further from your mind right now.
“Please Daddy,” you whisper and look at him desperately. You were so soaked it would be uncomfortable if you stood there for any longer.
He presses a tender kiss to your lips, deciding to give you a break. “Yeah, beautiful. We can leave. I don’t think you could focus enough to read anything right now even if you wanted to.”
He takes you under his arm and starts to guide you out of the store. You keep your arms around him as you lean into his side.
“That’s my girl. My good girl,” he whispers and kisses the top of your head while the two of you walk through the exit, “You just need Daddy right now, don’t you baby?”
“Mhm,” you hum quietly as you make your way through the parking lot.
When you reach the car, Leon opens the door for you and helps you inside. He then quickly goes around to the other side of the car and gets in the driver's seat. He wastes no time turning it on and getting it into gear. The car whips out of the parking space and out to the road.
Your eyes continuously dart over to him. The urge to hop over the center console and into his lap was all-consuming. He briefly glances at you with a knowing look.
You take that as a signal and slowly reach across the car. Your hand lands at the top of his thigh and slides over his lap to palm him through his jeans. He was already half-hard from tormenting you in the store.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he asks teasingly.
You tentatively pop the button of his jeans open and tug the zipper down. Your eyes are silently begging while your fingers begin massaging the outline of his length over his boxers.
“Just need to feel it. Please,” you say as your fingertips continue their miniscule movements.
He shakes his head and lets out a laugh while adjusting in his seat to give you better access. “You need it, do you?”
You nod and maneuver your hand into his underwear for direct contact. Your fingers wrap around him, feeling the heat of it pulsing in your grasp. Your content with that for a while, but soon you want more.
“Daddy, can I please suck your cock?” you ask.
Hearing your soft and sweet voice ask for something so vulgar made his dick twitch with need for you, but he tried to keep his reaction casual.
“Look at you, asking like a good girl,” he teases, “Can’t wait until we get home? Did Daddy get you too worked up?”
“Yes,” you say timidly, “I just… I need it.”
“It’s ok, you don’t have to explain,” he says, “You can suck me off, my love. Just be good, so we don’t crash.”
You nod quickly, happy he wasn’t going to torment you on the way home too. After unbuckling your seatbelt, you shift and lean over to his seat to put your head in his lap. He splays a protective hand across your back as you get in position. Without hesitation, you get to task and pull him out of his boxers.
You lick the bulging head a few times, but then wrap your lips around it and sink down. You flatten your tongue against the shaft, feeling the veins as you lower your head. He groans and tightens his grip on the steering wheel. His other hand rubs your back in small strokes.
“There you go, angel,” he says, “Fuck, I could never say no to your mouth.”
You suck gently before bobbing your head slowly up and down. One of your hands cups his balls and kneads them carefully. The noises of the blowjob sound through the car’s enclosed space. Leon fights the instinct to buck into your throat. Your mouth was just so warm and wet and soft. Absolute heaven. It was hard for him to focus on the road in this condition.
It was easy for you to focus on giving him head though. You work your mouth over him, paying attention to all his favorite spots and taking him as deep as you can. You rest your nose against his pelvis as you hold him in your throat. His thighs tense and the car jerks a little when he accidentally pushes on the brakes too hard.
“Jesus fuck, baby. Ease up a little,” he grunts. His hand on your back coasts up to your neck and caresses the base of your skull.
Not long after he says this, you pull off to catch your breath. While you take your break, you purse your lips and spit a fat glob of saliva onto his cock. It drips onto the head and then slides the rest of the way down to where your fist is now gripping him. You start jerking him and spreading your drool around his shaft.
You press sloppy, wet kisses to his tip. Some of his precum coats your lips before you open your mouth and bring him inside again. You make muted gagging noises while you try to get him deep again.
He wants so badly to watch you, to see that adorable dedicated look on your face and your eyes tearing up as you choke yourself. It’s driving him crazy having to watch the street ahead of him. He can also feel the simmering build up of release which he doesn’t want to do so soon or while he’s driving. His hips twitch more while he white-knuckles the wheel.
“Babe, calm down,” he hisses pointlessly. You’re wrapped up in your own little world right now, “If you don’t quit it, I’m gonna cum and then you’re not gonna get to have any fun when we get home.”
You sort of register that comment, but you were absolutely fixated on getting him to blow his load down your throat so you don’t stop.
He realizes instantly that you’re not going to let up. He makes a split second decision to pull a sharp turn onto a less busy road. He steers the car off of the asphalt and off road a little bit. Once there’s substantial distance between your vehicle and the road, he throws it in park and yanks you up by your hair.
“When I tell you to do something, it’s not a request,” he states simply. 
It takes a lot in him to keep up the serious persona and not smile at your face right now. You looked fucked out even though you hadn’t even come close to the main event yet. Saliva covers your lips and chin while your eyes project a dazed mix of arousal and guilt.
“But Daddy, I just wanted to make you feel good,” you say.
“Liar. I know you just wanted some cum down your throat cause you’re a greedy little slut, baby,” he chides, “Also, is it your job to ‘try’ whatever you want?”
You shake your head and look down like a puppy who’s been caught being bad. “I’m sorry Daddy,” you say softly.
“What is your job?” he asks, ignoring your apology.
“To be a good girl and listen to Daddy.”
“Hm, so you do remember. You’re not stupid then, just deliberately disobedient,” he says.
You open your mouth to dispute that but decide against arguing and shut it again. The way you were shrinking in on yourself made him want to ruin you even more.
“Good, at least it looks like you’re learning. I’ll have to remind you of the rest though,” he says and finally lets go of your hair, “Get your ass in the backseat.”
“But Daddy-” you start, about to repeat your fears from earlier about being seen.
“Enough with this ‘but Daddy’ shit. You wanna act like a whore, that’s how I’ll treat you,” he says, “Be grateful for the privacy you get. You’re lucky I didn’t just stop the car and fuck you in the middle of the street.”
Your inner thighs were slick with your arousal by this point. You could feel it when you began crawling past your seat to the back of the car. Leon slaps your ass as you make your way there, causing you to yelp.
He simply gets out of the car and enters the backseat through the door. He sits next to you and looks at you expectantly.
“What are you waiting for?” he asks, “Do you really need me to guide your every move? I know that’s not true because you just showed me it wasn’t.”
“I’m sorry Daddy,” you say again as you begin removing your clothes. You peel your top off and shimmy out of your pants.
“I know you are, baby. But I still have to teach you your lesson. You have to learn that Daddy knows best,” he says while taking off his own clothing.
You scoot closer to try and assist him, but he manages on his own and flips you over, pinning you to the seats. One hand is locked on the flesh of your hip while the other holds your head down against the leather. He’s kneeling behind you, hunched over due to his stature in the limited space.
He teases up and down your folds with the angry red tip of his cock, still leaking precum from the close call a few minutes ago. Your body yearns to be filled, but you keep quiet and try to appear patient.
“Do you even deserve my cock?” he asks as he bumps your clit. You would nod, but his hold on your head is strong. “I mean really, maybe I should be focused on training some patience into you. Teach you take what I give you and not vie for more.”
“Daddy, I’m sorry,” you whimper.
“I know, babydoll, that’s only the tenth time you’ve said that,” he mocks as he slides up and down through your slick, “But I can really show you what sorry is. Maybe I’ve been too lenient with you. What if, right now, I fuck your thighs? You keep those pretty legs together, nice and tight for me to use like a fleshlight.”
He pushes your thighs together like he described and begins slowly thrusting himself between them. He quietly grunts and kneads your ass.
“Please Daddy, no, I’m so-”
“Ah ah, don’t interrupt,” he tuts, not stopping his hips, “You’d probably still get off on it. You’re so whipped for me you’d probably cum if I smiled at you right.”
You stay silent. You knew he was teasing, but it might have been true. He knew all your buttons and just how to push them.
“Yeah, you know I’m right. My poor baby. You can’t help it. You don’t know any better, do you?”
“No…” you say quietly before your bottom lip juts out into a pout. The idea of him not fucking you properly while you were possibly the most horny you’d been in your life was deeply upsetting.
“No, you don’t,” he agrees in a condescending tone, “You just love Daddy so much. It’s not your fault your body is addicted to me. You don’t choose for your cunt to soak through your panties just from hearing my voice, do you? It just happens. Your heart knows it belongs to me.”
He speaks as if he’s comforting you which makes it feel so much worse and so much better at the same time. Your eyes water, the mix of emotion being a lot for you to handle in this state.
“It doesn’t care how pathetic you act because of it. All it knows is that you need your Daddy,” he says, his voice husky. He pulls away from the junction of your thighs and nudges your legs apart with his knees. He positions his cock at your entrance. “That’s why I’ll give you a pass, baby. You’re not a bad girl. You just need me to keep you in line sometimes.”
His grip has weakened enough that you’re able to nod. “Thank you Daddy,” you choke out as he pushes all the way inside in one go. You were so wet that he had no problem bottoming out immediately.
“Good girl,” he praises through gritted teeth and a clenched jaw, “So fucking wet, Christ.”
Everything felt right now that he was inside of you. The relief crashed on you like a wave. A couple tears leak from your eyes and your body shudders.
He starts pushing himself in and out, his head tilts back as he does. You clutch the edge of the bench while your eyes flutter. You felt like you were up in the clouds. The feeling of him twitching against your walls as he slid in and out was total euphoria. It was a little much to feel this way from a few strokes, but like he said, you couldn’t control it.
You bounce your hips back against his and he smacks it. You can tell from the sting that there will probably be a handprint on the skin. He lets you fuck yourself on it for a little while before he takes over again. He stares down to where the two of you connect, unable to tear his eyes from how your cunt sucks in his cock, your wetness gathering around the spot where your bodies link.
You whimper and cry as he picks up speed, pistoning into you. Your cheek feels numb from being squished on the cushion. Leon notices and leans down closer to you. It wasn’t unusual for you to get emotional during sex but seeing it always made his protective urges flare up. He wraps his thick arm around your neck from behind, putting you into a loving headlock. He lays some messy kisses on the side of your temple.
“I love my needy girl so much. You know that right?” he whispers while sensually rolling his hips against your ass, “I wouldn’t want you to be any other way. My sweet girl, so sensitive. I love you baby.”
“I love you too,” you cry. You lean into his kisses and lift one of your hands to rest it on his forearm.
Knowing you’re ok, he resumes his harsher thrusts, pulling you by your neck closer to him. He growls into your ear and nuzzles the side of your head.
“Fuck, I’m gonna cum, babe. Can’t last in this tight pussy, squeezing me like a fucking anaconda,” he moans.
You bite your lip and grip his arm tighter as you feel your own peak rising within.
“Where do you want it, baby girl?” he grunts in your ear.
“Inside, Daddy. Please,” you whine.
He chuckles and gives you one more kiss on the head for saying please. 
“I don’t even know why I ask anymore. Course you want it in your pussy. Even though you look so cute with Daddy’s cum all over your face, no thoughts in that pretty little head. Just happy you got some attention.”
“I like it inside,” you defend before gasping.
“I know you do, angel,” he says, his voice strained as the ecstasy begins to bubble over, “I like it too. Stuffing you full of me. A little reminder of who owns you once we’re finished.”
You nod as best you can in the headlock before your body seizes and jerks. Your orgasm rips through you, making you shake and moan through tears. You claw at his arm with both hands now, brokenly whimpering for Daddy over and over.
He can’t take it anymore. The sight beneath him mixed with the bliss of your cunt fluttering around him, it breaks the resolve inside him. He snaps his hips against you roughly and tightens his arm around you. He growls and grabs the leather seats so hard you think he might rip a chunk out.
He pumps into you repeatedly, draining himself in the warm embrace of your velvety walls. You can feel the thick white ropes filling you up as the sweaty skin of his abdomen rubs against your back.
His hips spasm as he finishes. He rests on top of you for a moment afterwards, panting to catch his breath. He kisses your neck gently and then moves to your ear.
“My beautiful, perfect girl,” he whispers, “So good for me, baby, like always.”
He gets off of you so you can sit up. Once you do, he gently holds your jaw and wipes away any leftover tears and saliva on your face. He leans in and gives you a soft kiss.
“So pretty,” he mumbles against your lips.
The two of you dress in the backseat, pulling your clothes on haphazardly so you can actually go home. This time you get out of the backseat through the door and hop back in the passenger seat. You laugh when you see Leon stretching outside of the driver's door.
“You ok there, buddy?” you tease when he gets back in.
He smiles, raises his eyebrows, and starts the car up.
“I’m buddy now? Are you over Daddy?” he says, “This is the thanks I get for working hard to please you.”
“Thank you Daddy,” you say overly-sweet, leaning over to kiss his cheek as he pulls back onto the road.
“You wanna play around, but I’m not the one who was crying that ten minutes ago when she thought she wouldn’t get any dick,” he laughs.
“Oh, shut up, Leon!” you say and roll your eyes.
“It’s Leon right now, but I bet you when we’re home in five minutes, I’ll have you begging for Daddy again,” he says and smirks.
You smile and look away, knowing that he’s totally right.
2K notes · View notes
postersofleon · 26 days
Text
Honey Has Value
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
In Leon's first mission, everyone warned him about the merchants that come every once in a while during dangerous situations. Nobody knows them. But everyone trusts them enough. Even Krauser, who was very sensitive in whom to trust with his weaponry. The merchants are the most chaotic neutral people who would sell to any person who had enough gold or anything in value. During one of his missions, Leon finally saw one of the merchants.
content: smut
notes: pre resident evil four; afab fem!reader; he forgot to socialize thanks to working in the military; reader is pretty femme by wearing a black dress; sexual frustrations coming from leon; small mentions of rotting flesh, leon is an awkward flirt; guys, even though i write smut, i hate booktok, does that make sense or i'm giltching in the system. smallish smut, little story.
taglist: @argreion
Leon could believe in Umbrella's cruel experiments. He had seen these monsters who are kindly called bioweapons, and even though Leon isn't forced to fight against them. He sometimes saw the creatures they turned into, and that was enough for a young rookie cop to see. He then had to mistrust his own government for wanting to harm a young child. Leon panicked and immediately a blackmail was tied around his throat.
A perfect noose around him. A traumatized man can't go back to his old life. Leon had to help a girl he barely saw in the tragedy of Raccoon City.
All because of his stupid want to help people. He was sinking in this damn hole depression, and he wasn't even allowed to go to therapy. When he was excited to talk to Claire, she wasn't there because she was still searching her missing brother.
Leon was alone. Leon didn't even have time with Sherry.
He believed in all of these faults of the world. It was a nasty cruel world that could barely be saved. Leon didn't even save Sherry. That was thanks to Claire. In that night, he didn't save anyone, and he trusted a bad person who fell to her death. Every inch of Leon's body knew guilt, the disappointment of the world, and bioweapons.
But why couldn't Leon didn't believe in this random ass Merchant? Merchants sounded like scumbags and fake to the bone yet everyone in his section of soldiers swore up and down that they are real and good enough.
They only appear in missions. The government doesn't pay for them to help. And none of them are the same person over and over. One had a handsome man with a bow tie; another had an elder woman, and lastly, Krauser even said he had dealt with a pair of twins. That's what made Leon struggle to believe this was real.
None of these people were truly scared to show their faces, but they all had the same name of merchant.
They had no true agenda. No sense of good or bad.
Leon hoped to never see them in his own missions. He didn't care if they had helped them before, Leon wasn't interested in them no matter how much.
His mission was down south. He had to learn Spanish in case the issues came to his language, but he knew the main part of the mission. A couple of normal soldiers came here, and we were murdered by a couple infected by the T. Leon was the next best option.
And Leon came ready. If a merchant was going to be there, he'll ignore them, no matter who it is.
Once he entered the place, it was a lonely village that was nearby an Umbrella lab, so he had already concluded who was going to be here. His heart beaten fast when he saw a person infected by the T. A poor woman whose skin was rotted away. Leon killed her without a second doubt. Even if Leon had the cure in his hand, he wouldn't want to use it on her, especially with the heat of the brutal summer.
Not only was her skin rotted. There was hole in skull that he didn't even make.
"How unfortunate," Leon immediately turned to whom it belonged to, "Seeing death is always unforgivable." A woman with a black dress was behind a desk of items. Due to the circumstances, she was hauntingly beautiful with the death surrounding her. It took a moment for Leon to realize it. She is a merchant.
"Hi, stranger." She smiled politely at Leon.
"Hi." Leon said firmly.
She played with string of pearls around her neck, "I'll be helping you with.... your situations." She seemed so nonchalant, her voice was relaxed as if the danger could never harm her.
"Situations..." Leon looked around her store of items. She had almost everything in this little place, a small box with a strange symbol planted on the center. "I'm sure you are betting for to get into those situations." Leon muttered. But she shook her head. It was almost automatic.
"Goodness, no!" She exclaimed loudly. "My services are here to help you. To assist you." She placed her gloved hand between him and her. "May I? Free of charge."
There was a silence between them. Begrudgingly, Leon handed his gun to her, "Careful with it." He muttered.
She grabbed the gun, "SG-09 R. Quite impressive." She clocked it and checked the modifications in the gun. "Fast, strong, and made by Kendo." She pointed the gun towards a section and shot a glass bottle. "But I can make better. Especially with the control of the government." She broke up the gun and grabbed a small bottle of oil to ease up the details of gun. "Do I permission to change the glock?"
Leon nodded his head.
The merchant got into work, she brought out the small tools to work on the gun, and changed very small details of the gun. After a couple of short minutes, she twirled the gun back into place. "Here you go, stranger." The merchant handed the gun back to its owner.
Leon lifted the gun and noticed the differences. She didn't change the drastic differences of the poor gun, but it made it functional for the monsters. He pulled on the trigger and shot the a piece of wood. The gun shot faster.
She grabbed a rag and cleaned her gloved hands. "It's easy as they come." She smiled. Her fingers returned back to her pearls, dragging the details bit by bit. "I love helping the new."
Leon wished he was normal. His dumb mind entered cave man for like three seconds. Maybe it was the small praise he got from her or how the merchant spoke to him without belittling him. He felt his cock twitch, "Yeah, thanks." He awkwardly put his gun back to its holster.
He promised himself the less impossible thing ever. Leon was spending a lot of time with the merchant, he saw her how her knife formed small knick knacks from wood. "Look." The merchang leaned to show him. It was small wooden figure of him. Leon took in a sharp exhale.
"Nice." He whispered softly.
"I give them to the other merchants so they can sell them." The merchant smiled. Her painting was very gentle, every brush was made with love. "Why sell them?" Leon asked. "It's like discount. If you have this." She lifted a small shield-like charm, "You'll have an upgrade with any merchant."
"Oh, that's great." Leon eyed her face, "So, if another merchant sees it, they'll automatic give you that help."
The merchant smiled, "Exactly." She continued the paint and Leon was just looking at her, "So, what perks will I get if I buy my small keychain?" He whispered softly. The merchant sighed softly, "Mm, well, how about 30% off when I fixed that knife of yours."
Leon nodded his head as he continued to look.
As time passed and such, Leon did his job and then immediately went to her section to 'buy' stuff. All that time of bothering the merchant, he finally got what he wanted as she pumped his cock.
She was on her knees as she pumped his cock into her mouth, Leon's hips moved up, "Fuck." The merchant rubbed the red tip and sucked it gently. He needed this after so long. Leon's hands covered his face, his cheeks were red and he was ultra sensitive over everything. The merchant rubbed Leon's tip around her lips and left his pre cum around them.
He chewed on his lips trying to keep quiet in case an infected could find them. The merchant's hand pumped his length, "I do the first time free." She teased him. Her hand slide down his cock and massaged his balls. He didn't know if she spoke the truth, but he was willing to pay for this again. The merchant's tongue dragged against his shaft and kissed the tip. "Just fuck me. Please."
The merchant shook her head, "You'll need your energy for the fights." She looked at his cock and placed his needy self inside of her mouth. She gagged weakly, his hips weakly moved against the merchant's mouth. He needed to cum and go back to work. His hands traveled around his pecs and squeezed them, he noticed the merchant noticing those details. Leon blushed but didn't stop himself as he played with nipples.
Flicking them a bit trying to help the simulation. She bobbed her head faster and he groaned. "Fuck, fuck-" His cum erupted into the merchant's mouth and it slowly fell out, she licked the mess without an issue. Leon groaned loudly feel his body relax bit by bit. His eyes completely soften and gently caressed her face, "Mm, thank you."
When Leon was back on his feet, he felt her hands smoothing out the wrinkles of his shirt. He felt too easy, but he liked her touch.
As the sun set above him, the merchant waved politely a goodbye to Leon; He simply nodded his head, his legs were a bit weak, but he had to go back to his job.
The next time he was with the Merchant, he was between her dress. He licked her pussy, his hands opened her thighs to shove himself deeper. Her cunt was keeping him sane after the brutal fights, her hands grabbed his hair and pulled his straight blond hair. Leon growled weakly, "Please, I just need your cum." No extra steps, he wanted it. His tongue moved around her clit and once he heard the merchant's moan he focused on it more.
His fingers shoved inside of her pussy and pumped them in and out. His tongue licked the wetness that poured into his hand. His finger curled up and fucked her up. The merchant's legs squirmed around Leon. He licked up the pretty hole and removed his fingers again, her thighs clenched around his face as he fucked her with his tongue. Flicking it over and over, he pulled it out and sucked her clit. She groaned loudly, her legs opened a bit, and Leon kissed her thighs over and over. The merchant released, Leon's fingers rubbed gently her cunt and licked the mess.
He was thankful for the merchant's services.
294 notes · View notes
drabblesandimagines · 3 months
Text
Cuffed
Leon Kennedy x reader, Valentine's Day nonsense
Tumblr media
I just really liked this gif*
You let out an annoyed huff, craning your neck back as far as humanly possible in the hopes that somehow this time you will be able to see the lock on the handcuffs you’re trying to pick.
It’s embarrassing – taken down by a scientist with a metal suitcase who’d swung it wildly in defence, rather than putting his hands up above his head as you’d so kindly requested. His antics had sent your gun flying out of your hand and skidding across the linoleum floor and by the time your fingers had grazed the handle of the dagger holstered at your hip, the suitcase had met the side of your skull, sending you toppling down, ears ringing.
You don’t think you fully blacked out, but it was enough of a blow to stun you, knock your earpiece out – all topped off with the scientist taking the handcuffs from your side and locking your wrists above your head, around some sort of metal grill.
He’d even had the gall to say sorry as he did it, before picking up the suitcase and running out of the room.
It’s fine, you’d reassured yourself once the room stopped swimming as much, you’ve got a lockpick hidden away in your watch. That first step had been hard enough – feeling blindly for the small dial on the side with your fingers to pull out the thing but you’d succeeded in the end, so surely you’d triumph here as well… right?
You don’t know how long it takes, but eventually you feel resistance, indicating you’ve finally managed to locate the lock itself. Great - now all you need to do is get through the pin mechanisms and you’ll be free, and you won’t even have to mention any of this to Leon-
Dink.
The sound of the lockpick hitting the floor as it slips from your grip is a kick in the teeth.
You aren’t granted time to commence a pity party as a beat later the door opposite is kicked open to reveal Leon, gun poised, finger on the trigger, looking mad as hell. His face relaxes a little at the sight of you, but he’s still sure to scan the area before he deems it clear, clicks the safety on and holsters his weapon. He holds a finger up to his ear and you hear a faint beep.
“Condor One to Roost. Hummingbird acquired – we’ll head to the evac point shortly.”  
Leon strides over as he speaks to HQ, before finally crouching down in front of you with a smug grin and a mischievous look in his eyes.
“Hi…” You trail off, embarrassed about your predicament.
“Well, this isn’t exactly where I was expecting to receive my Valentine’s Day gift, but you’ve definitely surprised me.”
Your face burns at the implication – you two keep it as professional as possible when on assignment together, but something about your current situation has Leon unable to resist. You attempt a half-hearted kick out at him in protest, but he stills your thigh easily with a hand.
“It’s not funny, Leon!” You retort, tugging at the handcuffs in frustration. “The target got away with the suitcase and-“
“Easy, I got him. He’s in custody, goods secured – much like you.”
“I’m not going to hear the end of this, am I?”
“Uh-uh, sweetheart.” He shakes his head, before grasping your chin with gloved fingers and begins to check over you for injuries – a purple bruise already blossoming on your temple. “How many of me can you see?”
“One.”
He holds up his other hand. “And how many fingers?”
“Three. Look, can you just get me out of these now – please?” You pout, but he’s enjoying being the tease a little too much to concede just yet.
“It’s on the agenda. What’s the date?”
“14th February.”
“Good. Otherwise known as?”
You roll your eyes. “Valentine’s Day.”
“And who’s your Valentine?”
“Well, he won’t be if he doesn’t uncuff m-“ Leon cuts you off, pressing his lips to yours – a soft, slow and sensitive kiss. You don’t even realize his hands are now above your head until there’s a soft click and finally your wrists are freed from their confines.
“You were saying?”
“That’s not fair.”
“Neither was you scaring the shit outta me when you dropped off comms, sweetheart. Come on.” He wraps an arm around your waist and helps you to your feet. “We need to get you checked for concussion.”
“Really?” You frown, though you do feel a little light-headed now you’re standing. “It wasn’t that hard of a hit.“
“Well, there’s a definite dent on that suitcase we confiscated, so I think we should play it safe.”
“Fine.”
He presses another kiss to your lips - this one a little more fierce, and pulls away only slightly, resting his forehead against yours.
“I love you.”
“I love you too.”
Leon smiles and retreats, but keeps a hand on the small of your back as he bends down to pick up your discarded gun and handcuffs. He proceeds to offer the gun back to you and you murmur a thanks and holster it, expecting to be handed the cuffs next, only for him to tuck them away into one of his many pockets on his pants and start to usher you out of the room.
“Wait, those are mine too.”
“I know.” He replies in an amused tone.
“Then why are you keeping them?”
He laces his fingers through yours, brings it up to his lips to kiss. “Let’s just say they’re going to come in very handy for my Valentine’s Day gift later.”
--
Masterlist . Requests welcome . Commissions/Ko-Fi
Comments, follows, likes and reblogs make my day!
304 notes · View notes
blueysobssesions · 1 year
Text
"Is that a Hickey?"
Characters: Leon S. Kennedy, Chris Redfield, Albert Wesker, Jake Muller
You leaving a Hickey on his neck ;)
Leon Kennedy
Tumblr media
- Leon adjusting his collar and said "Well, let's go-" he stayed silent when Ashley and Lewis/j were just gazing at him without saying anything. "Uhm, it's not the right time to adore me in this outfit..." He said "Looks like Amigo had his fun with his partner" Luis replied flirtatiously. Leon was speechless. He hoped that they won't notice how red his face is becoming. "I think you might need to look in the mirror" Ashley said giggling, pointing the mirror next to him. He hurried to the mirror to see what they were talking about and there, on his neck, he noticed a hickey. He can hear Luis and Ashley laughing maniacally behind him. He groaned "I told her not to leave a mark" touching the hickey on his neck. "It's a sign of ownership Amigo! She's putting her mark on you, saying that this on is mine" Luis teased. Leon stared at the hickey you created and he pondered... He grinned, "Well, I'm guessing I'm not covering it then?"
Chris Redfield
Tumblr media
When he opened his eyes, he looked at the side and noticed that you were still asleep and... naked. When he looked down, he also saw himself naked. He sighed and sat up, giving you another glance before moving to kiss your forehead. He touched the ground with his feet with a sigh as he extended his arms... He dressed himself and walked downstairs. "Boo!" Claire startled Chris causing him to yelp "Jesus Claire! It's too early!" He complained "Haha, I'm Sorry!" He was patted on the shoulder as Claire chuckled "So, how's Y/n- Oh, I see you two had fun last night?"she winked at him. "W-what?" "Oh Don try to deny it! I can definitely see a hickey on your neck" He look behind her which there was a mirror, he noticed the hickey you left last night. "I'm expecting to be a niece!" A blush creeped out to his face.
Albert Wesker (Re5)
Tumblr media
As Wesker walked through the hallways, he came across Excella. Excella has never been happy just to see him. He knows about her liking him. Despite knowing about her feelings towards him, Wesker remains distant and uninterested in Excella's affections. He sees her as nothing more than a tool to further his own agenda. You are the only person in his world in whom he is truly interested. Excella greeted him but was rejected. She groaned and rolled her eyes. "Wesker, please sit down so I can inject it" she suggested. Wesker walked towards her and sat down on the chair, rolling down his sleeve for the injection. Excella watched in silence as Wesker receive the injection. When Excella was about to put the syringe back, she notices something on his neck. Her eyes went wide when she saw a hickey on his neck "Is that a... Hickey?" she asked him. Wesker smirked and replied, "Your not the only one who's been busy, Excella," before he pulled up his sleeve. "Who gave you that hickey!?" Excella demanded as she noticed the love bite on his neck. Wesker chuckled and said, "It's none of your concern. Let's focus on the task at hand" He said standing up, he didn't actually planned to cover it up as if he wanted to know that he was yours and you were his. Excella raised an eyebrow but decided to let it go for now. She knew that Wesker was a skilled operative and they had a mission to complete. However, she couldn't help but wonder who had bitten him.
Jake Muller
Tumblr media
"Ugh, why did you include him on the mission Captain?" Pierce groaned in annoyance. Jake only chuckled at his reaction "Relax, Pierce. We need him on this mission," Chris replied calmly, hoping to ease the tension between them. "Look, I can walk out of this room, you know? If that's what you want," Pierce glared at him, "Fine, but if anything goes wrong, it's on you" he spat. Jake smirked, and the room was quite hot, making Jake sweat slightly. Standing up from the chair, he removes his jacket. He then heard a chuckle from Chris "I didn't know you were in a relationship" Jake rolled his eyes and replied, "It's none of your business Chris" He spat before putting his jacket besides him. "Okay, Okay. I was just curious," Jake shook his head, and Chris then again spoke, "Well, there is something... On your neck? A hickey maybe" Jake looked at Chris with a surprised expression and asked "What? Are you serious?" He asked, reaching his hand out to feel his neck. He then realized that there was indeed a mark on his neck and blushed with embarrassment. Pierce laughed at his reaction, and Jake stared at him and said, "Shut up" he said and Pierce only rolled his eyes.
TAGLIST:
@momma-vi
@ssbptigers
@mnjxs
@dargoww
@re-njnx
@genshinimpactmemes
(want to be added? Just message/send an ask!)
2K notes · View notes
unabashegirl · 1 month
Text
MASTERLIST
Tumblr media
ONE SHOTS
Kings of Leon
Wear something noticeable || Part 2
Equatorial Sun
What are you doing up?
My head is spinning over you
Pax Romana
Harry's grammy performance
You lied to me
Chocolate cake
Golden Boy
Nameless
Meeting her || Part 2 || Part 3
INSTAGRAM BLURBS
Dating hints
Pregnancy
Sadie Sink
Elsa Hosk
Lori Harvey
Pudderfly
Deepika Padukon
Dakota Johnson
Matilda Djerf
Gracie Abrams
Bella Hadid
SERIES
if you want to get ahead and get access to all chapter then check out my patreon!
Tumblr media
Summary: Harry is a young billionaire and CEO of his own company. He mostly keeps to himself, he is stern and very meticulous when it comes to business. He also likes to keep his personal life very private for the sake of his newly born son Oliver Styles. It isn't until he meets Y/N Y/L/N that everything changes. She becomes his new nanny after his previous one quits due to personal reasons. She is young, caring, and sweet. Will they ignore their feelings? Will Harry's girlfriend accept their love and leave them? Will she be able to cope with his busy agenda? What about Oliver's mother? Where is she? Who is she?
masterlist
Tumblr media
Summary: Harry Styles, the cold and calculating son of a powerful mafia don, must consolidate power after his father's passing. He faces challenges from his unpredictable younger brother, Silas, and navigates a complex world of alliances, ruthless decisions, and family loyalty. Amidst the intrigue, the elegant and alluring Y/N Castellano, the daughter of an Italian mafia boss, attends the funeral and finds herself drawn to Harry. As power dynamics shift and the future remains uncertain, the story explores the dark and dangerous allure of the mafia, the weight of family legacies, and the potential for unexpected connections in a world defined by secrecy and ruthlessness.
masterlist
Tumblr media
Summary: Y/N Y/L/N is forced to return to the town where she was born for extraordinary reasons. Her father is extremely sick and on the verge of passing away. Alsfield has changed and is far from what she remembers and even though she lived in town until her high school graduation she barely recognizes it. The town hides a big secret from a few individuals that live in it including Y/N. The man who maintains the town's secret and protects it is no other than Harry Styles. Things take a sudden twist when they meet. Numerous things will impede Y/N from returning to San Francisco to her somewhat ordinary life, will she be able to abandon the town that she had successfully escaped the first time? What is the big secret that the townspeople are hiding, and what is Y/N's role in it? Who is Harry? Where does he come from? Had she met him before? And what does he want from her?
masterlist
Tumblr media
Summary: Harry is just like any other college student. He is a senior in Chicago University. He keeps to himself except when he is spending time with his closest friends, Sarah and Mitch. His world revolves around his future career, friends, and family. His quiet and routine driven life takes a turn, one weekend when he meets Y/N Y/L/N. She is way too different from him. She spends most of her days surrounded by people who care for superficial and materialistic things. Her parents are never home, and they think that with money everything can be solved. They are both from different worlds yet something that night clicks and Y/N can never again get him off her mind.
masterlist || EXCLUSIVE FOR PATREON SUBSCRIBERS
188 notes · View notes
lipglossanon · 8 months
Text
You’re All I’ve Got Tonight
Tumblr media
⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙ ███████▒▒▒ 70%
part i
office exec!Leon S. Kennedy x personal assistant fem!reader
Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, dirty talk, kissing, nipple/breast play, grinding, unprotected sex, creampie
Actually looked over with a second pair of eyes by the ever lovely @rex122303 ✌️ you have my unwavering devotion 🙇‍♀️
title from You're All I’ve Got Tonight by The Cars
⋘ 𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠…⋙ ████████ 100%
You’ve been giving Leon the cold shoulder since that scandalous night in his office. You know it’s not his fault he was suddenly called up by the CEO to handle some business altercation out of state. 
But he could have called you or left a message or, hell, he could have emailed you. So when he shows up a week later, you’re short and to the point, never staying late and always disappearing if it looks like you’ll be alone with him. 
If he’s frustrated with you, you don’t really care (you do, but you’ll never admit it). He’s still cordial, still touchy feely when he can get away with it, like when brushing past you in the boardroom, but you stay firmly polite even if his touch makes you press your thighs together. 
It all comes to a head a few weeks later when an overnight trip to a business summit’s announced for the small team under Leon’s advisement. This small team also includes you, much to your chagrin. So you prep and plan, making sure all the emails are filled with the correct dossiers and agendas for each individual person and marking off the calendar accordingly. 
Leon tries to corner you time and again as you get everything setup, but you’re able to duck out of it every single time. You know it’s not very mature of you to avoid him, but you still feel embarrassed about the reaction you had when he ghosted you, even if it wasn’t entirely his fault. Your pride took one hit already, so now you’re just trying to avoid another. 
The date for the summit arrives far too quickly and you’re all holed up in the rental van to drive out of the city to the nearby retreat that’s hosting. You make small talk with Ark, a really sweet guy who works in IT. He’s friendly without being overbearing so the drive passes by comfortably although not quickly. 
Arriving at the retreat, everyone piles out of the van, grabs their luggage, and makes their way to the front desk. Bad luck on your part lands you at the end of the line standing next to Leon. Surprisingly, he doesn’t try to chat you up or anything, just scrolling on his phone with a little furrow between his brows. You stare ahead watching as the rest of the team grab their room keys and disappear further into the foyer.  
“Hi there and welcome! Checking in?”
The perky brunette behind the desk smiles at you, making you smile back, but before you open your mouth Leon steps in front of you. 
“Hi! Checking in for Kennedy.”
Your smile tightens as you side step so you’re standing a little behind Leon now. The lady sends you a quick sympathetic look as she types in his name. 
“You’re all set, sir,” she hands him a keycard, “if you need anything whatsoever please don’t hesitate to contact the front desk or the concierge. Please have a wonderful stay!”
She turns to you and repeats the same greeting making you internally wince in sympathy as she types in your information. Her smile falters and eventually drops into a confused frown. 
“I’m terribly sorry, but it seems like your party has all checked in and there are no more rooms available,” she types for a few more seconds before turning back to you with an apologetic smile, “and seeing as we’re fully booked, you can check and see if one of your colleagues—“
“She can room with me,” Leon offers flippantly, giving the brunette another smile, before turning back to his phone, “it’s not a big deal.”
She turns to you, eyebrows raised in question and you sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose.
“It’ll be fine,” you plaster a fake smile on and look over at Leon, “I appreciate it, Mr. Kennedy.”
He gives you a smarmy little grin, “Not a problem, madam secretary.”
You roll your eyes at him and turn back in time to grab the spare keycard. 
The young woman rattles off the same spiel as you grab your luggage, “If you need anything whatsoever please don’t hesitate to contact the front desk or the concierge. Please have a wonderful stay!”
You follow Leon through the foyer and over to the elevators, thanking your lucky stars no one from your office will actually see that you’re bunking with the boss. Butterflies threaten to flutter in your chest but you tamp them down, not letting yourself get swept away like last time. 
Leon lets you stew in your own thoughts as you enter the tenth floor, leading you down the hall to the room you’ll be sharing. He unlocks the door and holds it open, gesturing for you to enter first. You nod and roll your luggage case in behind you only to stop dead in the little hallway into the room. 
“There’s just one bed,” you blurt out, disbelief sweeping over you. 
Leon walks up next to you, letting the door swing shut. 
“Oh wow, that’s really unfortunate,” he shrugs, sounding a little too blasé. 
You squint at his side profile, “I’ll see if they can send in a roller bed—“
Leon scoffs, “Look it’s a king size bed, we can share like civilized adults.”
You purse your lips, “Mmhmm, and it’s not just awfully convenient we ran out of rooms for everyone and now we just happen to have to share a bed?”
Leon grins at you, the one that always makes those damn butterflies flutter.
“Just really weird co-winky-dinks,” his grin widens when you fight the smile wanting to slip out, instead giving him another eye roll. 
“Okay,” you throw your hands up with a sigh, “it’s only a short weekend trip.”
One of the reasons you’ve been avoiding Leon is it’s so easy to slip into the comfortable back and forth you’ve already built up. So it’s next to no time before he’s already weaseled a laugh out of you with his shitty one liner jokes. You’re a little nervous now that you’re kinda back on friendly terms, especially after you explained yourself. 
Now, he’s ordering room service for you both while you jump in the shower, letting yourself spend some extra time on shaving and primping before leaving the bathroom. Not for any ulterior motives or anything you think to yourself as you finish putting on your moisturizer. 
When you come out of the bathroom, Leon slips past you and shuts the door. You see that he hasn’t eaten yet, deciding to wait on you to finish up, which makes you feel warm and fuzzy at the thoughtful gesture. So you wait in turn, drinking some water as you channel surf, settling on a show about an elderly mystery writer who always stumbles upon a murder that needs solving. 
You’re pretty engrossed with J.B. Fletcher’s hunt for the killer, but when Leon steps out of the bathroom he draws all of your attention. His face is obscured as he dries his hair with a towel, leaving you to ogle his bare chest and toned stomach with his low slung sweats sitting on his hips, his happy trail catching your eye last. 
You make sure to be looking away by the time he drops the towel around his shoulders. 
“You should’ve went ahead,” he nudges your side, sitting down next to you on the bed. 
“Eh, just thought I’d wait,” you smile at him, nudging him back as he grabs one of the food containers. 
You grab another container and you both watch the rest of the show as you eat a late dinner. After tossing the trash away, you brush your teeth side by side at the double sinks, and find your way into bed. 
After settling underneath the blankets, Leon rolls over and props his head up on his palm. 
“So no goodnight kiss?” 
You roll over to mirror him, eyes taking in his half smile and damp fringe. 
“What makes you think you should get a goodnight kiss?” 
“Lots of reasons,” his hands shoot out to grab your waist, yanking you into his body. 
“I think you owe me a lot of making up, honey,” he murmurs, dropping a kiss to your cheek. 
One heated kiss leads to another and before you know it—
“Oh god,” you whine, grinding slowly against Leon. 
His cock is trapped in your panties, rubbing all along your dripping slit as he ruts against your cunt. His back rests against the headboard of the hotel room bed with you straddling his lap. 
You’ve been like this for an hour already; his lap and your thighs are soaked in slick and precum. 
“S’good,” he mutters under his breath, dilated eyes watching your tits jiggle, “wanna stay like this for the rest of the weekend.”
Goosebumps trail down your arms as you shiver, body completely bare except for your panties. 
“What about the presentation, sir? The actual summit?”
Leon grins lazily, dragging his eyes up to your face, “What about’em? I’m just trying to hump this little pussy.”
You whimper and rock against him harder.
The grin on his face widens, “Yeah, you like it too, like my fat cock rubbing all over this soaked cunt.”
“Leon,” your nails dig into his shoulders, eyes clenched shut.
“I wanna slide it in, but this feels too good,” he grunts, feeling your clit catch on the tip of his dick, “c’mere and let me suck on those tits, know you like that.”
You rock forward, pressing your chest out as his mouth leans up to suck on your hard nipples. He groans low in his chest as his lips and tongue work one hard bud while his fingers tweak and pinch the other. Your hips give short little thrusts as sharp bolts of arousal buzz in your clit. 
Sloppy sounds of sucking fill the room along with your pants and whines as Leon lathes your breasts with his attention. 
“Leon I want it, want your cock in me, please,” you gasp out as he bites your nipple and runs his tongue across it over and over until you’re squirming against him. 
“Think you deserve it?” he kisses across your breasts, teeth nipping at the skin as he swaps to the other nipple.  
“Please, want it, I’m so empty,” you whine.
“You've been ignoring me, honey,” he mockingly pouts up at you, lips swollen and hair messy, “outright avoiding me, I’d say.”
“You were mean,” you whine and he pinches your nipples hard making you buck against him.
“I’m being sweet now, aren’t I?” he grunts, sliding his fat cock into your pussy making you squeal from the stretch.
He’s so much bigger than you remember, making your back bow, head tipped back and mouth open, panting while he bullies his dick deeper and deeper into your pussy until he’s bottoming out.
He shushes you as you sink down on his dick with a low cry, “Such a good girl for me. Damn, missed this tight little pussy.”
You shove your breasts into his face making him growl, hands tightening on your hips, sinking you fully down on his cock. Leon’s mouth hotly kisses across your tits, sucking bruises into the sensitive skin. Groaning, he suckles your nipples eagerly until you’re bouncing on his dick. 
You let your hands sink into his soft hair, rocking your hips down hard onto his lap. Mewling, you tug on the silky strands as Leon’s tongue laps across your swollen nipples making you squirm. His hands move up to your waist as he humps your hot wet pussy, burying his cock deep in your throbbing cunt.
Feeling over sensitive, you try to pull his head away from your chest but he only groans, suckling your hard bud deeper into his mouth. His cock kicks and throbs as you slump forward, smooshing your tits into his face. 
“Leon, they’re g’nna be so sore,” you gasp as he nips at the swell of your breasts before pulling away. 
“But you like it, squeezing down on me so tight,” he grins, shaking the hair from his face as he tilts his head up, “now kiss me, sweetheart.”
You whine in the back of your throat and drop your mouth down on his. You feel as Leon scrapes his teeth against your bottom lip. He moans, licking into your mouth, tongue running along yours teasingly. 
He tugs you closer and closer, the kisses becoming more sloppy with spit dripping past your swollen lips. He chuckles when your fingers drop from his hair to cup the back of his head, pulling him forward til there’s no space between you. 
Pulling away for a breath, Leon just tugs you back in for another messy kiss, his hot tongue licking into you again and again.
“Been driving me up the wall, wanted to talk to you so bad,” he lets his head fall back to rest against the headboard as you grind dirtily against him, “had the best sex of my life and when I came back you pretended I didn’t even exist, honey.”
“‘m sorry, sir,” you whimper, eyes fluttering as his cock grinds just right against the spongy spot at the front of your pussy, “just got into my own head.”
“S’okay,” he coos up at you, letting one of his hands drop down and tease your swollen clit, “just gonna let this sweet pussy milk a nice thick load outta me.”
“Yeah, yeah, gonna milk your cock so good,” you slur, arching your back so your breasts brush against his mouth. 
He snarls and bites at your soft tits, “That’s it, squeeze my cock.”
You whine, body jerking as he pinches and rubs your pudgy clit, sucking each of your nipples between his teeth to run his tongue across them. The coil in your belly’s winding tighter and tighter as Leon teases your nipples and clit at the same time. 
“Oh,” you gasp out, “g’nna cum, Leon—“
A low cry spills from your mouth as you clamp down on Leon’s dick, pussy walls fluttering and milking his throbbing cock as he fucks you through your orgasm.
“So sexy,” Leon’s hips thrust up into your squelching pussy, “so fucking sexy. Gonna make me cum, baby. Y’ready?”
“Yes, yes, please,” you moan, digging your nails into his chest making him curse under his breath and bury his cock into your sopping wet hole. 
You feel rope after rope of hot, sticky cum spurt inside your cunt, stuffing you so full that it leaks out around his throbbing cock. 
“Beautiful,” he places open mouthed kisses across your clavicle up to your neck, letting his tongue tease across your skin, “such a good girl for me.”
You sigh, feeling blissed out and utterly satisfied. He tugs your head down to kiss you softly at the corner of your mouth.  
“If you want, just relax and I’ll bring a cloth in to clean you up.”
You smile at him sleepily, “Wanna snuggle.”
He returns your sleepy smile with a small one of his own, “You got it, sweetheart.” 
335 notes · View notes
moonrisecoeur · 5 months
Text
apathy — leon kennedy
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
author’s note: this is so horribly self-indulgent self-centered self-serving, it might as well not even be x reader and literally just leon x moon i’m so sorry. this is angsty smutty nonsense for anyone who wanted more feelings and less horniness out of gratitude. i do not apologize for any comparisons of the reader being like the moon.
wc: 3.3k
content: switchy/sub!leon x switchy/dom!reader, fem!reader, she/her pronouns, afab reader, re4r leon, scratching and bruising, hickeys, masochist!leon agenda, reader’s got a lot of feelings, mention of edging and denial, mentions of food
warning: this is not dark content, but reader is lowkey toxic. please be aware that i don’t endorse treating your partner like this. mention of using a knife on him once.
notes:
“i will begin to despise you if i let you in.”
“and i will adore every moment of your resentment.”
“i won’t get better. i won’t change for you. this is what you’re stuck with.”
“it’s okay, i like you as you are.”
“i promise that you don’t want me,” you had said once. leon didn’t really know what to do with that statement. it was a promise, but you would have already broken it a million times over; that is how badly he wants you.
he knows what you really meant. it wasn’t some promise you had no way of keeping. it was a warning, a cautionary tale. wanting you would not be good for him, plain and simple. though, sometimes, plain and simple isn’t always as such. sometimes it’s much, much more complex than meets the eye.
he recalls the moment in his apartment as clear as day. you had said, “look. i want you. i very clearly do, this is not… me denying that fact. what i am trying to say is that you do not want me. i don’t care what you think you know. what you think you want. you don’t want to have me.”
he took a while to think about what you had said. it wasn’t a choice he had, to pick you or to pick freedom. it wasn’t one or the other. you didn’t let him pick you, because he would have, you knew it, he knew it. he would give you anything.
his biggest problem is he never knew why. you made yourself very clear, you wanted him, and this, you had him, but you refused to let him have you.
“you don’t want me,” you said, but he does.
you try to block him out, to avoid him, even as he tries and pushes you for answers, to know why, why you don’t let him have you, why you insist he can’t want you.
he keeps pushing, keeps chasing you. in a way, it’s nice. you like being chased, being wanted, desired. the only problem is that it’s leon. if it was anyone else, anyone less moral and perfect and everything the world needs desperately and does not deserve, then maybe you would be more okay with letting this all happen.
but leon doesn’t deserve how you’ll inevitably treat him, using your power over him to do whatever you please, using him for every last drop of pleasure he has to offer you, and then leaving him when you’re done. he would be the most delightful treat, but you abstain simply out of guilt from how perfect the man is.
you don’t know if you could ever forgive yourself for ruining leon, making him recover from the misery that would be your love.
“you know i’m not good for you,” you whisper to him, “i love you and love you and love you until you can’t breathe with how filled to the brim you are with my affection and adoration and then i leave you alone to… do whatever it is you do while i want to be alone,” you tell him, more like lecture him, as he stands there. he’s trying to get closer you and you won’t let him, both figuratively and literally. he tries to reach out for your hand but you pull back.
“i’ll leave you alone. you hate people who do that,” you murmur that last part, and leon notes to himself that someone who doesn’t care wouldn’t remember his propensity to dislike the people who have left him alone before.
“that’s… fine. i know you’re introverted and… you need alone time, i get it,” he tries to reason, even with his own insecurities, “i’ll be okay.”
“no, you don’t understand, i am terrible. i will crave you and ache for you and need you and still know i am not a torture that you deserve,” you’re glaring at him with an anger that isn’t real, it is more out of desperation, “if i can know i am awful, why can’t you?”
“call me ignorant if you want, i don’t care. i want the worst of you,” he says, reaching out again. you take a step back, but he takes two forward, and his presence is never one you’ve been known to resist, “let me have y—”
“i will hurt you!” you tell him, but you give in just slightly. you bring your hands to his waist, too gentle for your previous statement to make sense. he thinks you’re lying, anything to push him away. you’re too soft on him to be so cruel.
“you know i’m a masochist,” he still laughs. he holds you back as you reach out for him, your soft, teary eyes vaguely make out a smile from his pretty lips. what a terrible time to be joking, leon.
“that’s not funny, leon,” you whisper.
“never said it was,” he feels tears prickling at his eyes too. he wonders how you could be so cold and uncaring if you’re crying for him right now. he wonders if maybe, just maybe, you’re not selfish like you say you are. you’re just a girl who has only ever had to look out for herself.
“i will hate you,” you bite your lip, nervous. he’s winning, “i will do terrible things to you.”
“i will love you just as much to balance that out. and there is no crime you could commit against me that i would not forgive you for. not that you… would need or want my forgiveness.”
moments pass where your hands are digging in trenches into his skin, knowing you’ll never be able to let him go if this goes on any longer. he holds onto your hips, afraid you’ll leave if he lets go.
he aches to break the silence, but you won’t believe anything he says anyway. he’d tell you he saw the good in you, the girl who was nice and cared about others, and you would have the displeasure of telling him it’s all a facade.
“i will begin to despise you if i let you in, you realize that, right?”
“and i will adore every moment of your resentment,” he smiles softly, sadly, like it's all he wants. like he’d take the sweet fragments of you over any other full person. of course he would. they wouldn’t be you.
you dig your fingers into his skin, rough but not painful, aching to take him but still nervous that he doesn’t really know what he’s signing up for, “i won’t get better. i won’t change for you. this is what you’re stuck with.”
“it’s okay, i like you as you are,” he says, his voice as gentle as ever. leon has always been gentle, kind, soft. god you just want all of him to yourself. you are everything he is not, possessive and selfish and cruel, but he loves it. he wants the worst of you.
give me the devil as my lover and i’ll serve her forever, his heart calls.
you can’t help the urge to give in, to let him win, let yourself take what you want by letting him win. you can’t help tightening your grip on his waist, pulling him in for a full hug that he reciprocates, big arms wrapping around your shoulders like he could shield you from the world. even if you were the monster you say you are.
words fail him, but he’d give you anything. he’d let you do anything, take his breath, his soul, his sanity, his life.
you say you’re a monster? prove it.
you do just that.
he’s not saying you’re dramatic… but you’re not the evil monster you’re painting yourself out to be. you’re a little apathetic sometimes, but aren’t we all?
he gets why you think you’re some monster. you can be selfish. you’re a loner at heart, and that just doesn’t work out well with the whole ‘relationship’ thing. you’re possessive despite not giving him attention, no one else can either. you want him all to yourself even when you don’t want him at all. sometimes he wonders why, but he doesn’t question you. you’re not even possessive most of the time, if anything, you just want his attention.
you said you’re mean and cruel and you warned him that you wouldn’t change, but he just doesn’t believe it. you’re the ‘stop to help old ladies cross the street’ type of caring. you’re the ‘hand on his shoulder to get him out of someone else’s way’ type of caring. you’re the person who stays behind as everyone else walks ahead when someone’s tying their shoe. you care. you’re kind. you don’t see it.
you, and everyone else in this world, mistakes apathy for cruelty. it’s like, you don’t care about what people have to say? you must be the devil incarnate.
1. wrong. you not being interested in people around you isn’t something you can control. sometimes people are just boring.
2. he thinks the devil (you!) is hot.
and you feel too deeply, too ashamed about everything to be as apathetic towards the world as you think you are. leon looks at you and sees how you care. it’s different, but it’s not wrong. he knows you don’t care about the stories people tell you, you don’t remember pieces of their lives or their birthdays. you don’t care when they share those fragments of themselves, vulnerable and desperate for reassurance you’re not going to give them.
you don’t care. and you hate that you don’t care, but hating your apathy doesn’t make it go away. it doesn’t cancel out the cruelty you think you are. and that is the epitome of it all. you care so badly about how much you don’t really.
leon holds you close as you cling to him, arms wrapped around his torso as you curl your head into his chest as you lay on the bed, cold feet hanging off the edge of the mattress like the evil monster underneath would come to take you away. maybe it should, you muse. maybe then i could forgive myself for being so wrong.
and for stealing leon away from the world. someone so perfect. not actually perfection, because things are less likable when there’s nothing to critique about them. it is only when something is flawed in many ways that loving it so deeply is possible. it is easy to love something perfect. it is rewarding to love something imperfect and raw and human and real.
but in an ironic way, it is easy to love leon. he’s so loving and kind, you wonder why he’d ever want you because you’re very much not easy to love, but to leon? maybe you are.
so when his hands cradle your head against his chest, his body enveloping yours like a thick fog settling over you, you let him. and you wonder why he could love someone so wrong. to him, your flaws are a million times more prominent. and that means he could only love you deeper.
if you’re a bad friend, then you’re a worse lover. your body aches for his just like him for yours and you give him nothing and take everything. you take and take and take until he’s exhausted, but the worst (best?) part is leon only wants to give and give until you push his head away from you, until you force him to stop.
your body takes him like he’s the only drug you’ve ever craved, carving sweet nothings into his wrist and thighs and shoulders with your fingertip, though he’s sure you imagine doing so with a blade encompassing your hand. he shivers at the thought. maybe he wants it too.
you shatter him to pieces with every touch, picking up the broken pieces of the mess you’ve made of him. you keep them close, treasuring every kiss you place on his neck, every touch on his waist, the way his cock fills you up so perfectly.
he loves that you just take whatever you want from him. no warning, no concern for him. you know he wants to be used for your every desire, every need. he’s yours to drain of life like a vampire sucking the life out of its helpless victim.
you tell him what to do, order him around viciously, and he has no choice but to obey. what’s he going to do? try and tell you what to do? dominance has never been his forte, he’s too awkward, too shy. besides, if he even tried to tell you you’re a ‘good girl’ right now, you’d probably slap him.
to be fair, he’d probably like it, like the sting of your palm against his cheek, like the burning feeling afterwards, like the red mark on his face in the aftermath. he still won’t do it, for your sake. call that self-sacrifice.
you dig your nails into his skin, into his chest, his waist, his thighs, until small little crescent moons cover his entire body, leaving the mark of the moon that you were in his sky.
if he was the sun, you were the moon. he shines and shines and shines and you take his sunshine and keep it as your own. he lets you because it makes you brighter, happier, lighter, god you’ve seemed so much happier these days. ever since you gave in and let yourself be loved by him, he’s made your life nothing but brighter. doesn’t make you feel bad for your incredibly chronic case of general apathy, just makes it easier to not feel like a monster on the daily, which is appreciated. you worried so much about how cruel and selfish you would be to him and he’s been nothing but joyous since.
when you’re not pressing your nails into him, you’re gripping him so tightly that you just might bruise him. it’s alright if you do, he’s always liked it rough. his body is a clean canvas that’s yours to depict your destruction upon. by the end, he's heaving, skin red and irritated from scratching and bruised up all on his neck and thighs. your mouth is insatiable when it comes to his neck, the vampire comparison must have really been accurate.
he likes that you’re selfish, that making him orgasm was never your goal. sure, you’re not going to deny him, though maybe you would, now that he thinks about it. okay, try that again, you weren’t trying to deny him this time, but that doesn’t mean you cared if he did cum. if anything, you did it for your own selfish wants, getting to watch him fall apart so helplessly.
you took care of yourself, because that’s all you know how to do.
his heart still aches when he sees tears welling up in your pretty eyes, switching positions so he could hold you close as you ride him, his hands rubbing circles into your back, “i got you, pretty girl. just breathe.” and that’s it.
he knows if he keeps talking, you’ll get uncomfortable, and you’ll run away. like a wild animal that might get scared off at any moment, he treads cautiously and treats every moment of you in his arms with the utmost value. you come undone just a few moments after him, and you ride out your orgasm even as he bites back whimpers of pain. he’s sensitive and tense, sure, but you’re still grinding down on him, using him for every last drop of pleasure, and he’s not in any position to stop you.
you collapse onto him, as if fully giving in to that feeling that says to trust him. to hold him close. to love him endlessly for putting up with your constant bullshit.
“you’re so beautiful,” he whispers as you lay together on the bed, his fingertips brushing through your hair. he’s painfully gently, so much more so than you are with him. (you’d feel bad if he wasn’t moaning so loudly every time you hurt him.)
you hum, hand rubbing his side, up and down motions following the curve of his torso, enjoying the way he groans in discomfort, “i warned you that i was mean,” you say, enjoying the way he laughs.
he’s so bright and lively with you, and you can’t help but wonder if you’ve brought out something in him that was hidden away too. more youthful, free of the problems bestowed upon him by the events of his early 20s. he’s even more beautiful than you are to him. not that he’d ever think that’s possible.
“i know, i know…” he mumbles, his hand placed on the back of your head as he pulls you in for a soft kiss, his other hand on your cheek, thumb brushing against it almost as if to wipe away tears. luckily, you were past that. you had cried enough.
you warned him that you were mean, cruel, apathetic, distant, etc, and maybe you were. or maybe you would become those things. maybe this is the high high before the low low you had talked about once. the moments where you’re perfect and loving and amazing right before your descent into resentment and cruelty.
but for now? all leon knows is you’re a helluva lover and he can't imagine a better way to sleep than in a lover’s arms. he falls asleep before you do, sleeping like a baby before you doze off.
you stay awake a little bit longer, still plagued with the thoughts of what the hell you did to deserve this man. you come to the conclusion that sometimes bad things happen to good people.
and sometimes? good things happen to bad people. leon’s love was the best thing you could ever obtain, and you refuse to let it go.
the next morning, he kisses your cheek as he serves you breakfast, and talks about something you don’t care about. he’s sure you’re not listening, but he doesn’t mind. he’s more just thinking out loud to himself.
you stare at the plate as you eat, off in your own world. he just waits until he can be a part of your world again, watching you intently. he likes looking at you, even like this. you’re far too beautiful for his soul to handle.
you look over at him as you notice him staring, “hm?” you groan, making a small sound to acknowledge and question his gaze.
he just shakes his head, “just like looking at you, pretty,” he smiles, and you roll your eyes. you can’t help the adoration that fills your bones at the sight of him. he’s perfect. everything to you. even if you can’t always show it, or even if it doesn’t always feel that way.
you told him you wouldn’t change for him. and he never wanted you to. there was nothing to change, you were already perfect to him. he can’t help but keep his eyes on you the whole morning before he has to leave for work.
as he does, even though it’s with a heavy heart because you look so sad that he has to go and he never wants to make you sad, he gives you his goodbye kiss. your hand finds the back of his neck and your thumb pressed on a newly tender bruise on the side of it. he winces at the touch, and you smirk. he’ll never forget how fatal you are, even in your… softer moments.
Tumblr media
181 notes · View notes
mandalhoerian · 11 months
Note
Since requests are open, can you write please some Leon x gn!reader fluff free angst? Also love ur writing, you're doing amazing job ❤️
~🐸
red herring | leon kennedy x reader
Tumblr media
pairing: leon kennedy x gn!reader, leon kennedy x ada wong genre: angst, no spice, hurt no comfort we die like luis word count: 2k summary: you thought ada to be the red herring, when in reality, it was you. notes: hope this is what you had in mind! i wrote this in one day so i apologize for the quality 😭
🌀 read on ao3!
Tumblr media
The helicopter’s rotor blades are slicing the air in an ear-deafening force of noise, the wind awakened in the wake slashing at your face, but Ada, and everything about her is unaffected. You had no idea how her saunter was graceful as a feline as usual, the click of her heels rhythmic and not at all imbalanced from having to walk against the heavy current of air. Among the maelstrom of noise, her voice is clear as a bell. “Ride’s here… You coming?”
Directed at Leon, of course. You, and Ashley watching over the scene, hidden somewhere, are not a part of this. These two were in their own world. 
“I think we both know this… is where—”
You cut Leon’s dramatic monologue off, fed up with everything. “You go with her.”
Leon glances at you, his piercing blue eyes reflecting a mixture of surprise and concern. The chaos around you seems to fade into the background as he is unable to look away from how done with this you are. 
The helicopter's roaring engine makes it difficult to hear, but you can still make out the urgency in his voice. "What the hell are you talking about?" he shouts over the noise, his tone filled with a tinge of outraged worry.
You nod, your determination unyielding. "I got Ashley. Just go with her. We’ll meet at the rendezvous point before extraction comes, I’ll do my best to handle Hunnigan until then—”
“I can’t just leave my mission—”
“You’re not leaving your mission, just making a detour. Partners, remember? Have a little faith in me.” He begins to frown even harder, about to probably tell you how this isn’t about that, but you see how Ada is waiting. She could have left already, a woman with her own goals and agenda that doesn’t have anything to do with a lone American agent, but she waits patiently. That tells you more than her contradicting talk ever can. “Whatever this is, between you and her… Don’t put a lid on it and shove it in a box until the next mission you meet her on. Solve this, Leon. Have the greeting or the closure you want. Go."
Leon looks torn, his brows furrowing deeply as he weighs his options, gloomy as ever, but there’s a certain want there, and you see deep down, he wants to seize his chance, but as always, he’s his greatest enemy. The wind whips at his hair, disheveling it further, but his gaze remains on yours. It's as if the chaos around you has momentarily frozen, leaving only the two of you in this critical moment. Ada, standing near the helicopter, looks on unreadably, her enigmatic gaze fixed upon Leon.
You step closer to him, your voice resolute despite the chaos around you. "Leon, I've got this. Trust me. You need to go with her. This is your chance to find the answers you've been seeking, to confront the unresolved feelings between you."
He opens his mouth, seemingly ready to argue, but the weight of your words settles upon him, and he hesitates. The gusts of wind whip at your hair, as if urging him to make a decision. 
"Leon, we've been through so much together," you press on, your voice softening. "I've seen the way you look at her, the questions that linger in your mind. Don't let this opportunity slip away. Resolve it, whatever it may be. Leave Ashley to me. The hard part’s done already."
His features contort with conflicted emotions, his piercing blue eyes searching your face for any signs of doubt. You meet his gaze with unwavering determination, your belief in him shining through. 
Behind that lie the feelings you have for him, but those, you bury. Deep, deep down. They are unneeded. Shouldn’t have existed in the first place. 
With a heavy sigh, Leon finally relents, his voice filled with a mix of gratitude and apprehension. "Alright, but promise me you'll be careful. We'll regroup as soon as possible."
You’re not disappointed. You’re not disappointed. You’re doing this for him. If you say it enough times, it’ll become the reality.
You nod, your determination unwavering. "I promise, Leon. Just make sure you get the answers you need."
Without another word, Leon turns towards Ada and strides purposefully towards her. The helicopter's powerful gusts buffet him, but he remains steadfast, his resolve burning bright. Ada's eyes meet his, a subtle understanding passing between them, their connection becomes palpable. It's as if time stands still for them, their shared history and unspoken emotions hanging heavily in the air. Ada's gaze softens, the shift is almost unnoticeable, and she reaches out a hand, offering him a lifeline into her world. There's a sense of bittersweetness as you witness this pivotal moment, knowing that you played a part in setting them free.
Leon pauses for a fleeting moment. He looks back, gaze finding yours once more, a silent message conveyed through. 
It doesn’t reach you. 
With that, Leon turns back to Ada, nodding at her. Without another word, they move together towards the helicopter, and she gracefully climbs aboard, the chopper's interior swallowing her form.
She only watches you as Leon also hops on, and suddenly, she’s yelling, “Here!” and an object is flying your way. Your reflexes help you catch it easily, and you’re looking at a plush bear chain with a key attached to it. “Better get a move on. This place will blow soon!”
You can’t even say, “It’ll what—?” before an explosion shakes the whole island, and you see Leon almost attempt to jump from the chopper ascending into the sky. 
You don’t wait to watch them disappear into the sunset in melancholy. You gotta get Ashley the hell out of here. 
Tumblr media
She’s a marker. You almost miss the way Leon’s lips are a tinge redder, but the blossom on his neck is unavoidable, especially with the way he’s sprawling on the chair, head thrown back as he takes a shot from the bourbon. In the protection of the safe house, Ashley is sleeping in the next room, and you two have reunited at dead of night as Leon stealthily came back, not even one minute late. 
You point at your neck, tapping it a couple times, and his attention is diverted at where you’re showing, one eyebrow rising. “You got a little something here,” you say, chest constricting in a way you don’t like. 
“Ah,” he understands finally, hand covering it up almost unconsciously. “Shit.”
“Had a hell of a great time, huh?”
You don’t like the way he can’t even laugh at that. “An understatement.”
“So, how’d it go?”
Leon's eyes meet yours, his expression a mix of weariness and a hint of guilt, it turns somber as he considers your question, his gaze drifting off into the distance. He takes another sip of his bourbon, the liquid burning its way down his throat, momentarily distracting him.
"It's complicated," he finally responds, with a touch of resignation. He leans back in the chair, his body language betraying a certain, ancient exhaustion.
“When is it not, right?” You watch him closely, picking up on the conflicting emotions that flicker across his face. The lines of fatigue etched into his features tell a story of the shit he went through in Valdelobos, but he looks relatively better, Ada must have patched him up. 
"We made no progress," Leon continues, his voice slightly hoarse. "Still so many unanswered questions. Ada... she's as enigmatic as ever. It's like trying to catch smoke with your bare hands. I can’t let go of my anger at her, and she enjoys that."
“Ohhh,” you huff from your nose, wanting to be amusing, trying to not let it slip how the way he talks about her is so magical when you know he is a man of few words. “Hatefucking, huh? I let you go so you could talk about your emotions for once and you come back with one more to your body count. I’m regretting this already.”
Leon's weary expression morphs into a mixture of surprise and amazement at your remark, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He chuckles softly, the sound filled with a blend of weariness and genuine amusement. He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his face now sporting a lopsided grin. "Subtle as always," he chuckles, the tension in the room momentarily lifting.
"I thought maybe this time things would be different," he admits, his voice tinged with a hint of disappointment. "That I could finally understand her, or at least have some closure. But it's never that easy with her. She's a master of keeping her intentions to herself and herself only."
You lean forward, resting your chin on your hand, studying him intently. The bourbon in his glass has been reduced to a mere sip, the amber liquid reflecting the dim light of the room. Your voice is gentle as you speak, trying to understand the complexities of his emotions.
"And how do you feel about her?" you ask, your tone soft but probing. "Beyond the anger and frustration, is there something else?"
Leon's gaze lingers on the liquid for a moment before meeting yours once again. His expression holds a mixture of longing and resignation, as if grappling with an inner battle.
"I can't deny that there's a part of me that cares for her," he confesses, just admitting having left him frustrated. "Raccoon City’s left a mark on me, and so has she. I can’t get rid of her. But at the same time, I know that pursuing anything further with her is a dangerous path. She operates in shades of gray, and I can't afford to lose myself in that darkness. I would have followed her, no questions asked six years ago, but I’m not that me anymore."
A sigh manages to escape, your voice filled with a mix of concern and teasing. "Just promise me you'll be careful, Leon. Ada's a wildcard, I don't want to see you get hurt."
A flicker of gratitude passes through his eyes, and he nods. "I appreciate your concern, but remember, I've faced worse than Ada Wong." 
You smirk, a glimmer of pride shining through. "Leon Kennedy, caught in a web of mystery and seduction. Never a dull moment with you, huh?"
Leon's lips quirk into a half-smile, though the weariness still lingers in his eyes. "Never a dull moment indeed," he replies, a hint of wistfulness in his voice. "But you've always been there with me, through it all."
You give him a reassuring smile, your eyes reflecting the genuine care you have for him. "You don't have to thank me, Leon. We're partners, and that's what partners do. We watch each other's backs, no matter what."
In response, he reaches forward to cradle the back of your neck and pulls you into a singular kiss, you taste cherry lip gloss underneath the bourbon, and it reminds you the nature of your relationship with him. No name beyond the vague partners label, sharing platonic worries one second and a bed the other, and it’s comfortable. Convenient. A bond two agents who can’t commit exactly need. 
Too bad you had to ruin it by falling in love. 
As the kiss lingers, you can't help but feel a pang of regret. Regret for allowing yourself to harbor undeniable emotions for someone who cannot reciprocate those feelings in the same way. Regret for getting entangled in a web of emotions that threaten to unravel the delicate balance of your partnership.
But as quickly as it happened, he pulls away, a conflicted expression crossing his face. Maybe he’s comparing you to Ada — maybe he’s gone for it because he wanted to confirm something, who knows? His disappointment is palpable.
"I'm sorry," he murmurs, his voice laced with regret. "I shouldn't have done that. It's complicated enough as it is."
You try to mask the hurt that stings within you, the unspoken words hanging heavily in the air. You understand the boundaries, the reasons why you've kept your feelings buried deep down. But that doesn't make it any easier.
"It's okay, Leon," you manage to say, your voice steady despite the ache in your chest. "You know how it is between us. Let's not make it more complicated than it already is."
With a heavy sigh, you push aside your own emotions, burying them deep within. You've always been good at compartmentalizing, at setting aside personal desires for the sake of the greater good. 
(A red herring.)
We should get some rest," Leon finally murmurs, hand on his brow. "We have a long day ahead of us."
You nod in agreement, though your heart aches with unfulfilled longing. "Yeah, you're right. Rest sounds good."
“I’ll take the first watch.”
You leave him alone there, only looking back as you’re disappearing into your own room to see he’s playing with the little bear keychain Ada has left behind. 
(You are the red herring in their story.)
637 notes · View notes
rottenrosethorns · 1 year
Text
Promise | Part One
Tumblr media
Pairing: RE4!Leon S. Kennedy x co-worker!fwb!afab!Reader 
Genre: Friends with Benefits AU, Smut 
Synopsis: You and Leon had a strictly professional work relationship and strictly physical personal relationship. But recently, you start to notice more affection from Leon little by little. With his upcoming mission, will you be able to confront him before he leaves? 
Warnings: 18+ SEXUAL CONTENT MINORS DNI, vanilla, oral sex (mutual), throatfucking (receiving), choking (receiving), cum swallowing (mutual), hair tugging (giving), public oral, physical restraint – hand wraps used (received). Please inform me if I missed anything! 
Word Count: 5.6K
A/N: this is my first leon fic and im very, very new to the RE fandom but not new to writing, so i apologize if some parts/personality is non-canonical! im still working on learning more about the universe. also, this is my first fic ive written since a year so…if this is bad, im so sorry, working hard to get my writing back to better as well <//3 also there might be a part 2 but might not??? depends idkkkkk, if this goes well or not lolll
.....
- masterlist - 
- part two -
.....
You don’t remember how it started. All you knew was that somehow, it became routine for you both to spend Friday nights together after work. 
At first, it was every few months, nothing structured really. A stray text, here and there. A brief "My place or yours?" or "Are you up?" sufficed whatever cravings either conjured during the quieter nights. 
If he needed to be satisfied, you’d be there. If you needed to relieve stress, he’d be there. And that, for the longest time, was the determination of the relationship. There wasn't really much need for anything else. Leon was always out on missions, fighting off whatever offspring the latest virus variant had mutant and you were diligently cooped up in your tiny office, researching past strains, tracking patterns for the next possible mutations, and investigating outbreaks. 
Even though you both worked at the same company, albeit in different departments, crossing paths with Leon was not uncommon. Despite the frequency, every interaction was conducted as if you both were strangers. Partly because nobody at work needed to know the personal agendas you both occasionally shared as well as the work dynamic between your titles and ranks. It didn’t matter anyways, nobody would ever catch on that a DSO agent and a researcher would intermingle in bed anyways. 
But eventually, those seldom visits became monthly, always being on the first Fridays for convenience. It was weird to keep a schedule like that, especially when the appointment was solely for sex, but it’s what worked best for the both of you and neither of you had any complaints. Almost like a regular wellness checkup with your family doctor except none of you suffered from any illnesses. 
Then, monthly became weekly. Both of you needn’t ask to come over anymore, practically leaving work together on Fridays. You clean up whatever case you were working on, pack up, and head towards his apartment. This was routine. 
So, it was obvious what your plans for tonight were. 
“L/N.” A few knocks accompanied your colleague’s voice. She was Poppy, a sweet girl from a few doors down. One of the only co-workers that was near your age. 
Your desk was a mess, papers skewed everywhere from the recent case concerning a missing girl filled every square inch surface of your office. Briefly glancing up from the disarray of files, you caught a glimpse of her with her light coat and bag on, “Clocking out?”
Poppy cheered, “Yup, my shift at the bar is starting. Care to join me and the rest of the agents?”
“I’d love to, but I have plans for tonight already,” A mental image of you sitting yourself on Leon’s throbbing dick painted into your mind. Or perhaps maybe you’ll let him take the lead tonight with him pinning you down on all fours, “Maybe Saturday, if you're not hungover enough.”
“I’m always ready for a good time, hungover or not! If you change your mind, come find us downtown,” Admittedly, that’s what you liked most about Poppy. She was always cheerful, a great change of pace in the gloomy environment of your job. Not that you were overly pessimistic, you were just very logical and had a job to do. A job to find a missing girl and investigate the T-virus. So, you both exchanged goodbyes before you sighed and continued to review the deadend clues for the nth time. 
“You have plans for tonight?” 
You raised your eyes in surprise, sure that you were alone in the office, having this time of evening to been way past normal work hours as well as the rest of the floor supposedly at the bar. Well, everyone but him now. 
“I have plans every Friday, Kennedy.” You blinked innocently, keeping your facial expression neutral as you initially reference your workload; however, the sight of him in the cursed tight t-shirt underneath his jacket immediately shifted your tone into a sneaky innuendo. 
Leon was fairly well at keeping his composure, speaking nonchalantly without skipping a beat as he leaned up against your office door frame, “More important than catching up with the crew?”
You caught on to his dismissal, not willing to embarrass yourself with desperation to fix your sexual desire. Thus, you mockingly tapped your files as if Leon couldn’t see the plethora of papers for himself, “I have a case.”
“You’ve been on that case for weeks now,” As if to taunt you with silent temptation, he crossed his arms, defining his biceps. Damn him, you thought. Although you couldn't see them underneath his jacket, you could tell just by the strain of wrinkles folded in the fabric. Damn his shirt too, you thought. 
You shook your head, motioning towards the bulletin board of cold trails, “I’ve got to find a lead.”
“It’s one night, you can get back to it on Monday,” Leon pushed off the doorframe to welcome himself further into your office. You thought he’d make his way to inspect your bulletin, only to be surprised when he placed himself directly across from the other side of your desk. He bent forwards, placing each hand on the edge of your wooden desk and leaning his face close to yours. Even without words, you knew he wanted you to take a break. 
“I have to find the missing girl.” 
“One night,” Leon sighed before taking one hand to take the files out of yours and shutting your laptop closed, “It won’t kill you.”
“It could be enough to kill the girl,” You argued. 
Maybe you shouldn’t have said that to save yourself a glare from Leon. A moment of silence passed before you sighed, not in frustration but in defeat,  “Let’s go before I change my mind.” 
Since when did it become so hard to say no to him? 
.....
“So, you decided to come after all!” Poppy cheered with a slight slur in her speech, already moving to pour you a drink, “I knew Leon would convince you.”
You gave Leon an accusatory look to which he dodged by moving to greet another colleague, “You-”
“Cheers!!” Poppy all but screamed into your ear whilst practically shoving the glass of alcohol to your lips. You quickly reacted, taking in the liquid in a few large gulps. 
“Damn girl, you practice that?” Poppy scrunched her eyes playfully, suggesting that you practice with more than just drinking alcohol in your down time. 
From the corner of your eye, you saw a ghost of a smirk appear on Leon’s face before disappearing as quickly as it appeared. Regardless, you shot him a dirty look. 
“Take a seat!” Poppy beckoned, sluggishly taking your coat and bag. 
There was only one spot left located on the far side of the table. Just as you were about to make your way, Poppy’s voice halted you, “Hey, move it, will you?”
Poppy’s question was more like a demand towards another colleague, “What? I’m already sitting here. Why should I move?’
“Just move!!” Poppy pretty much shoved the poor man out of his seat before turning towards you with a soft smile and gesturing you to sit. For a moment, you’d forgotten how this sweet girl could become a special agent, but with that display, you remembered just how tough she could be under that kind smile. 
“Thanks,” You laughed nervously, not wanting to be on the other end of her wrath. You wondered why sitting here was such a big deal until you realized it wasn't where but who you were sitting next to. With a seat so hidden in the corner and a private room full of many people, you were sandwiched between Leon’s sturdy torso and the wall. From where you were, you had to ask Leon to grab any drinks or food for you. 
“Want something?” Leon looked at you, ready to grab anything that you wanted. 
You nodded and thanked him. You did feel bad for making him grab all the things you wanted – especially since you were known to be a menu hog – but you really didn’t have much of a choice. It was either use him to do your bidding or climb over his lap in front of everyone. Just as you were about to ask for your desired dishes and drinks, Leon already knew what to bring to your plate without you needing to tell him. 
Since when did he know your favorite foods? 
.....
“You’re going on the missing girl mission?” 
Leon nodded, persona instantly switching to serious. His jaw tensed, brows furrowed as the tiny wrinkles creased between them. This was usual, almost like a pre-mission ritual of his to get in the mindset of gore, bloodbaths, and bioweapons. Afterall, nothing can prepare a man for the horrors that go on during those missions. Not even you. You've investigated countless missions, earning lead researcher in many strain cases, yet whenever it came to Leon being the leading agent you suddenly had so many questions, overly irrelevant and useless. 
Will you be okay? How long will you be gone? What’s your mission? Will you come back alive? Are you going alone? Is it dangerous? What if you get sick? What if you don’t come-
“Y/N!”
“Huh?” 
“I asked you a question.”
“Oh, sorry,” You slightly winced, holding a hand towards your head and checking to see if you were ill. It was unlikely of you to get distracted so easily. Forcing out a cough, you cleared your throat to compose yourself, “What was your question?” 
“Are you okay?” Leon shares a look of worry, placing a warm hand over your shoulder as if to comfort you while his other hand replaces the one on your forehead, “You don’t seem to be burning up.”
You gulped, tongue and mouth agonizingly dry as your eyes flickering towards his touch. As much as you wanted to shy away, his touch was warm and you craved his heat. It was unlikely of him to be in such near proximity to you, especially when you both could be seen through the glass walls of the briefing room. You averted your gaze, shakily looking at his baby blue eyes so it wasn’t obvious you were fixated on his hands, “Was that the question?”
“No,” Leon admitted with a small frown painting his sharp features, “You just don’t look so well.”
“Just thinking, I guess.”
“About?”
“Your mission.”
A half-lie, half-truth. Sure, you were concerned about his mission. You're highly paid and trained to be worried about these missions, but moreso, your concerns focused on him. In actuality, you didn’t really need to, he always came back safe. On the brink of death sometimes, yes. But, still alive nonetheless. 
He gave a curt nod, “I’ve got training soon, but can I swing by later to get your debrief? It’s your case, you’re the expert. I need all the help in order to save the girl.”
“Of course, how late are you staying at the office?” You brought up your schedule, double checking if there were any meetings you still needed to attend. 
“Actually, I was thinking we could go back to my place?” Leon nervously smiled, eyes squirting slightly, “Um, you know, because I got to sharpen my knives before I go.”
“You want me to debrief you at your place while you sharpen your knives?” The tail end of your tone stretched to be high pitched in your confusion. Was this a joke?
Leon let out an airy chuckle, “Yeah?”
You followed suit, letting out a laugh to ease the confusion, “Sure, I guess, wanna order in?”
“Yeah,” Leon smiled, “Pizza would be nice.” 
“I'll see you then.”
Since when did Leon come up with excuses to see you?
.....
“Pizza’s here!” 
Leon leapt up, putting his knives and sharpening tool on the wooden coffee table and rushing towards the doors to retrieve the pizza, “Thank god, I needed a break.”
You flipped through the debrief packet, only having gone through the first few pages of the hefty pile, “It’s a lot, these people – uh zombies? – are dangerous and fucked. Better to be safe than sorry.” 
“I’ll save the girl, promise.” 
Leon set the pizza box and wings on the table, careful not to let the grease seeping through the cardboard touch the mission materials and quickly left to grab plates and drinks. Meanwhile, you had continued to read aloud whatever essential background information he’d need to understand the nature of this mission. You hadn’t realized you were so heavily engaged in your notes to notice Leon plating two slices and setting a drink for you before helping himself. So, you continued until you heard the sound of Leon’s soft chewing. 
Looking up, you finally noticed that Leon moved to sit on the floor and rest his back on the legs of the sofa. Putting down the packet, you followed him and moved to sit next to him, “I got a bit carried away, huh?”
Leon shared a smile, showing no signs of disdain, “Just a bit. Take a break, we can get back to it later.” 
You held back a yawn, disguising it as you sipped your water and started devouring your pizza. You hadn’t realized how hungry you’ve gotten. You suppose you shouldn’t be skipping lunch anymore, but you knew that you’d probably forget that change in habit the next day. You both ate in silence. Normally, you found silence comfortable, but alone with Leon? You despised it. 
“You look troubled,” Leon scanned your face, “Wanna share?”
You pressed your lips together, indeed you were troubled. The sight of his sharpened knives had invoked the bombardment of concerning questions again. They burned on the tip of your tongue, begging to be spoken. 
“It’s...” You hesitated. 
Leon didn’t speak. Not because he didn’t have anything to say, but as if to encourage you, letting you know that all of his attention was on you and that he had no intention of interrupting you. 
You sighed, “I’m just worried.”
“About the mission? I’ll save the girl. When have I ever failed?” Leon smirked. 
For a moment, you laughed as well before becoming solemn again, “Not that, more about you.”
“Me?”
“Yeah, you.”
“Why?”
Without thinking, you split all the questions you’d been brewing since earlier. Pizza forgotten, you didn’t realize you’d been rambling until you’d run out of breath. Yet, Leon never interrupted you, letting you vent out. 
“Sorry,” You looked away embarrassed, shoving the slice of pizza to prevent you from speaking, “I don’t know what I’m saying. I’m sure you will take care of yourself.” 
If it had only been a couple of seconds, it felt like excruciating hours had passed from Leon’s silence. The room felt stuffy, the lights felt like they were shining too bright, and the sweat was sticky on the palm of your hands. The voice in your head was begging, crying for him to say something, anything. You didn’t care if he laughed in your face or reassured you. You just needed to hear something from him, so that you didn’t drown in your own thoughts. You had a tendency to overthink. 
You shrinked back, heavy under the gaze of Leon. You didn’t know what to do, so you made an excuse of needing to use the restroom to escape the invisible chokehold. You hovered over the sink, closing your eyes and taking deep breaths to calm yourself. It didn’t help much, but it at least eases your heartbeat back to a normal range. Eyes now open, you pathetically look at yourself in the mirror and internally berate yourself for your foolishness. Has Leon made you lose all your self control now? 
A brisk knock on the door pulled you from your thoughts. As much as you didn’t want to face Leon, you couldn’t hide in his bathroom forever. 
“Leon, I-” 
Leon doesn’t wait for you to fully open the door, pushing his way in and pulling your body flush against his. His lips find a way to your neck, sucking and licking at the fragile skin. You were sure they left marks in its wake. Your words are cut off with a quick moan, your hand coming up to cover your mouth in shock. You weren’t sure what made him act this way, but you definitely weren’t complaining. If this is what’s going to distract him from the previous conversation, then you were more than willing to satisfy him. Plus, today was Friday. This was routine. 
Leon’s hands trail all over your body as the both of you stumble back into the living room and fall onto the couch. This was quick, this was sloppy, this was like two horny teenage virgins having sex for the first time. But you were with Leon, so all of that didn’t matter. You didn’t even undress fully, only having discarded your shirt before you got off Leon’s chest and kneeled on the floor to face him as he sat up. Greedily, you pushed up his shirt midway, half-hazardly exposing his tense abs before clinging your hands around the waistband of his sweats and briefs and tugging him free in one motion. 
“Excited there, big boy?” 
Leon’s cock twitched, slapping against his lower abdomen in anticipation. His length was impressive, but his girth was even more breathtaking. His tip glistened under the lights, heavily leaking with precum. You snickered internally with a silent smirk blooming across your face and eyes twinkling with mischief, amused at Leon’s erection from being untouched. 
“Watch it,” Leon’s voice was serious, tone stern and authoritative with his eyes narrowed as he watched you lick your lips at the sight of him. He was always serious and demanding during sex, yet always attentive of your needs. It was one of the things that you loved about him. You had a knack for power imbalance and an even bigger knack for defiance. 
You kissed his thighs, starting from his left knee upwards, skipping his begging cock and back down to his right knee. Leon grunted with displeasure, rolling his eyes at your cheekiness. Just as he was about to get impatient, you moved forward, lips barely brushing against his shaft. He could feel your hot breath, twitching in anticipation once again. Yet, you didn’t want to comply, having too much fun teasing him with your antics, “Watch what-”
Leon narrowed his eyes into slits, annoyance clear on his face and clearly ran out of patience with you. Wordlessly, he dug his large hands under your arms, lifting you up and throwing you roughly where he sat on the couch. Stunned and turned on from the sudden manhandling, there you laid upside down with your head slightly hanging off the edge of the cushion. All you could get out was a squeak of surprise before Leon grabbed your head on both sides to support you and shoved his dick in your mouth and roughly throatfucking you. Immediately, you gagged from the unexpected rough entrance, but loved his abrasiveness with you. Leon watched as you took all of him, throat bulging with every thrust. He basked in the disposition of your bobbing Adam’s apple and the lewd squelches echoing off the living room walls. Leon was normally attentive to your limits; however, he had a habit of getting carried away during oral, leading to you tapping his thigh twice and pushing him off. Instinctively, you spit out your cum mixed saliva as it slowly slid down the side of your cheek and sticking to your hairline. It’d be a bitch to clean later, but you could care less at this moment. 
Eyes opened, you took a deep breath in as you gasped for air. With his left hand, Leon continued to pump himself, slick hands rubbing along his length to keep his high going. With his right hand, Leon caressed your cheek with his thumb rubbing your cheekbone. 
“I’m sorry. Safeword?”
You shook your head, chest heaving, “I’m good, just give me a sec. Don’t worry, I liked it, just haven’t done this in a while.”
Leon nodded, eyes softening with slight guilt although you showed no signs of being upset, “I’ll make it up to you. Promise you’re okay?”
You kept your hand on his thigh as if to tell him that you were okay. Still with one hand, Leon took off his shirt and used it to gently wipe your face. You laughed, finding the delicate gesture humorous as he still stroked himself. 
“What’s so funny, huh?”
“Nothing.”
You smiled innocently before replacing his hand with yours and sticking your tongue out to accept his length again. Leon hissed out your name, eyebrows crinkling with pleasure. You slurped him one, twice before humming in acknowledgement. The vibrations only elicited another hiss-like moan out of him. Feeding off the noises he was making, you kept at your bobbing head, licking, gagging, and kissing all along him. You took him out of your mouth, cold air blowing against his shaft causing him to shiver. He was close, and you both knew it. 
“Choke me.” 
It was a simple demand, but it was the green light that Leon needed to resume throatfucking you. You put your hands down, using one to sneak into your pants and circle your aching clit. You hummed against Leon, earning a satisfied grunt from him, “Keep that up and you’re gonna have to swallow.”
He released his hold from you, letting you have a moment of air. You looked up at him, challenging, “Good thing I like the way you taste, Kennedy.”
Leon responded to you with a short grunt, but you didn’t fail to miss the slight flush on his face before he thrusted himself back into your awaiting mouth. His thrusts were much more forceful and rough, basically pushing your body deeper into the plushness of the couch. Your fingers switched from rubbing your clit to inserting your fingers inside yourself. Leon’s hold on your waist kept you pinned to the couch before moving to pull your pants down to view the sight of you finger fucking yourself. He never liked it when you touched yourself when with him, but at least he could watch you while you did. Must be a pride and ego thing, you thought. 
He also didn’t like when you had too much clothes on. Albeit you were definitely no less than conservative at this moment, Leon just noticed you had your bra on the whole time. He didn’t like that. His hands swiftly moved from the dip of your waist to push down the straps of your bra and expose your jiggling tits. Moments like this, Leon became obsessed with every curvature of you, latching both hands on your breasts to hold as he pounded rougher into you. 
“Almost done,” He choked out like he was the one out of breath. Borderline whimpering and whining at this point, begging for release. 
You encouraged him by using your free hand to grab his hip and guide him. Three thrusts later, Leon’s hips stuttered and knees fell slack as he released his hot, thick ropes of cum into your mouth. You pulled away, lapping up every ounce he gave you. 
“Still okay?” Leon asked, breathless. 
You nodded.
“Say it.”
“I’m okay,” You confirmed, moving to sit upright. 
“Need a break?”
You shook your head, greedily bringing his hips towards you. He looked down towards your slit, messily covered in your slick, “Who’s excited now, hm?”
You rolled your eyes, scoffing, “Shut up, Kennedy.”
He smirked, teasing you, “Don’t want it now?”
You sighed in defeat, needing to cum more than needing to save your pride. You gave Leon your best pleading eyes, brows creasing in desperation, “I do want you. Please, I need you. I need you to make me cum.”
“There we go,” Leon cooed, “How would you like me? You have to tell me what you want.”
“Please, please, I want your tongue,” You sighed, “I want to cum on your tongue.”
Thoughts about begging Leon to get to it and rail crossed your mind; however, you couldn’t resist the opportunity to beg him to eat you out. Not that it wasn’t often, it was just a special treat and you were always the type to take advantage of your situations. You’d been missing his tongue, and you craved his expertise and enthusiasm despite the snarky comments that came with it. 
“Copy that, agent,” Leon smirked, bending down and lifting your legs over his shoulders to bury his head in between your legs and licking a long stripe up your cunt, stopping to engulf his lips around your clit. 
You sighed with bliss, curling your fingers into his hair and giving a taught tug to his blonde locks. Leon released his hold, blowing on your clit as he gripped your thighs tighter and spread them further, “Behave.” 
He went to delve his tongue back into you until the shrill sound of his ringtone echoed, taking you out of the steamy atmosphere. Leon shook you off as you tried to push him away, “Ignore it.”
“But-” 
“I said leave it.”
The ringtone ceased, leaving the sounds back to being Leon’s tongue pushing in and out of your hole. Only a moment later, the ringtone came back to life and now taking the both of you out of the steamy atmosphere. Leon threw his head back with a frustrated groan, “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
You bite your lip, can’t help but hold back your curiosity, “Who is it?”
“The President.”
.....
Leon was leaving. Leon was leaving for Spain. Leon was leaving for Spain to fight against an infected cult to save the President’s daughter in an hour. 
Arguably, you were more nervous about his departure than him. Actually, you were more nervous than he was. All your questions from the previous night flooding your mind again. So, you took it to the company gym to let out your worries. A researcher usually doesn't occupy the training room, but you need the stress relief. Why? Because your other stress reliever was leaving the country! 
“You’re hurting yourself,” Leon leaned against the door frame, clad in his tight tactical gear. Hip pouches and combat knife strapped securely on his sturdy figure, combat boots tightly tied and double knotted, and most importantly his handgun safely holstered along his belt. Although you hated the reason why he was in his uniform, you can’t help but drool over him. 
You’d known you pushed yourself past your limit a while ago. The sting of your knuckles along with the faint patches of blood staining the fabric of the punching bag made it obvious. You’d been bleeding through your wrap for a while, but you didn’t care as the pain helped you forget about your worries. Technically, this was equally helping as it was hurting you. 
Meanwhile, Leon pushed himself off the wall, steadily walking over towards you and grabbing both your wrists. You glanced up through your lashes, staring a bit too long in his baby blue eyes, “Shouldn’t you be gone already?”
Letting go, Leon panged fake hurt from your words, “Want me gone already?”
“You know what I meant, Kennedy,” You continued throwing punches, despite Leon’s disapproving looks. Regardless, you were thankful that he didn’t try to stop you. 
“Flight leaves in an hour or so, just doing my last double checks on equipment and saying my goodbyes.”
You raised a sweaty brow with doubt, freezing mid punch and fist never meeting the punching bag, “You don’t say goodbyes.”
“I don’t.”
“So, what are you doing here?” 
“Am I not allowed to be here?” Leon perked up, knowing that he would overturn you in any conversation. You stared at each other in silence, challenging the other person to say something first. Sighing, you broke eye contact, going back to punching, “You should bring a jacket. I heard the weather is pretty bad over there. Plus, you don’t look very inconspicuous.”
“Outfit screams “On my way to save the President’s daughter from contagious B.O.W.s,” right?” Leon laughed, “But, what’s on your mind?”
You half shrugged, “Just got some stuff on my mind.”
“Like?”
You. 
“The mission.”
Leon nodded, face turning stern as if he were calculating battle tactics in his head already, “Same.”
Silence fell over the both of you again, but this time, awkward. You cleared your throat, turning away from Leon to grab at your water bottle, “Nervous?”
“Not really,” Leon’s demeanor switched to devious, “Honestly, just want to get this over with. I got some unfinished business.” 
“Unfinished business?”
Leon’s eyes held a glint in them, patiently waiting for you to catch on. 
Unfinished business. Your unfinished business. You never got to finish. 
You slapped Leon on his upper chest with a hiss, “You can’t be serious!” 
“But, I am.”
“We’re at work!” 
“And?”
You gawked at him in complete disbelief, “And? Um, I don’t know, we could get caught, we could lose our jobs!” 
Leon shugged, smiling confidently, “There’s no cameras.”
“Someone could hear us!” 
“Only if you’re loud.”
You hated the smug look on his face, knowing that you were pretty vocal. It was only until your eyes followed his as he watched you subconsciously squirm and press your thighs together. Leon gently grabbed your shoulders, pressing soothing circles on your skin, "Do you trust me?" 
The look in his eyes was so fierce, your lips quivered, "With my life." 
Leon's hands slid down your arms and snaked them around the curvature of your ass before supporting the back of your thighs, "Jump." 
And, you did. Instantly, Leon's lips peppered your skin as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. You cringed, thinking about the accumulated sweat from your workout session, but Leon didn't seem to mind. He'd make you sweat even more pretty soon anyways. You sighed with pleasure, running your hands along his arms and feeling the firmness of his biceps under your fingertips. Whilst distracted by the heat of his touch, Leon took his chance and backed you up towards the Smith machine.
“Leon, what are you-” 
He hushed a whisper in your ear, causing a shudder through your spine, “You trust me, right?”
Leon looked at you, pausing all movement until you spoke a soft, “Yes.”
“Good,” Leon glanced at you through the mirrors spanning across the entire wall of the gym, “Remember to be quiet.”
Leon unraveled your blood stained hand wraps, lacing them together over your wrists and over the bar while effectively tying your hands tightly against it. Once finished, Leon gripped his hands over the ridges on the bar, unhooking it and effortlessly lifting the bar onto a higher post on the machine. You definitely didn’t miss the bulge of his biceps. Through the mirror, your arms were outstretched way above your head with the soles of your shoes firmly touching the ground. 
Leon moved in front of you, back now facing the mirror while keeping eye contact with you the whole time. “Ready?”
“Ready.”
He pulled down your pants, noticing the lack of undergarments. He raised a brow and teasing smile itched to bloom across his quivering lips. 
“Shut up, it’s easier to workout in,” You huffed, a bright blush rushing across your face. 
Leon hummed in satisfaction, “It’s easier to eat out too.” 
“Hey-” 
Your scolding fizzled out into a loud moan as Leon repositioned your legs and dove under you with his tongue flicking your clit. His hands traveled up and down your legs, taking the time to squish your plush thighs. Leon kept his rhythm for a moment before pausing, “I thought I told you to be quiet. Unless you like the idea of being caught.”
You involuntarily clenched at his teasing, jaw tightening from your lack of composure, “Hurry, you don’t have that much time yet.”
“Don’t need that much anyways.”
Leon uses his hands to push away your legs, running his fingers up and down the skin of your thighs. He grips them every so often before sliding his hand around, cupping the crease just below your ass, and firmly tugging you forward with his tongue stuck out along your slit. You choked out a sigh, careful not to be too loud as you threw your head back in pleasure. With the guidance of Leon’s hand, your hips began grinding on Leon’s tongue as he licked and lapped your dripping sweetness. The sight of yourself through the mirror was lewd 
“I’m- I’m almost-” 
“Hold on for me.”
Leon meant it metaphorically, wanting to show off the skills of his tongue and mouth just a bit more. But he also meant physically as Leon hoisted your thighs upon his shoulders, carrying most of your weight with the help of his arms hugging you secured around your lower back. Regardless, you’d instinctively grabbed the metal bar, flexing your arms to hold yourself up. Half not to crush your weight on Leon, and the other half in need of something to grip while waves of pleasure ruined you. 
You thrust your hips forward, needing more of Leon as you ached for him, “Please, almost there.” 
Leon pushed you closer towards him, hoisting you higher so that his face was centered at your core. Leon pushed his tongue deeper into you just as you reached the apex of your climax. A deep sigh of relief came over you as you ground the last of your ecstasy onto Leon and just in time for his flight departure. Gently, he set you down, pulling your pants up for you and untying your restraints. Without saying anything, he took off your hand wraps entirely, blowing cool air on your scratched knuckles, “Take care of this later.” 
“Take care of your mission.”
Leon nodded, switching back into his agent persona. You watched him begin to walk away before he hesitated right as he passed through the door frame, “Hey.”
“Yeah?” You cast him a longing look. 
“I’m going to come back, okay? Promise.”
Since when did Leon make promises? 
634 notes · View notes
roseglazedlens · 9 months
Text
⦑ undercover secret - pt 1 ⦒✶.*
Tumblr media Tumblr media
pairing(s): leon kennedy x fem!reader (use of the word 'mum', gn otherwise) synopsis: this was supposed to be just a job, then you can finally live beyond paycheck to paycheck as a single parent. but you fell in love with your target, leon, that you were using as leverage. your boss calls you out of the blue, delivering you an unpleasant order that will result in heartbreak. content: smut 18+ only mdni, single parent/spy reader, porn with plot, fake-dating (kinda), table-fucking, manhandling, kidnapping, guns, nuclear weapons, mentions of death. « 2.5 k words┇masterlist┇reblogs appreciated! »
Tumblr media
You’ve broken rule number one.
Never, under any circumstances, fall in love on the job.
Sounds of gunshots echoed through the range, cardboard figures sequentially collapsed, speared through the faded print. Leon brandished his new rifle, two steady hands supporting the rifle, a slight tilt of his head when he aimed. Your sight drifted from his targets to how his fringe draped lightly to his right, shoulder caps strained tightly against his compression shirt, the hem lifting up just a fraction to reveal a small of his back when he crouched into the scope.
Despite the murk of dried blood, dirt and sweat of Leon’s body, your eyes are drawn to the movement of his chiselled body.
“Well, what do you think?” Leon flicked his eyes at you, a light smirk on his lips.
“You’re good… I’ll give you that.” You drawled out the vowels, hands clapped deliberately with your legs extended from the barrel seat. The light in Leon’s eyes lustered ever so slightly – almost imperceptible to everyone else, but obvious for you.
Leon can’t fool you, even if he tried. Your keen eyes were trained to discern his every reaction. He is not the kind to emote with his face, rather subtle motions done unconsciously in attempts to conceal his true thoughts. You noticed.
How he would tuck his hands into his pocket when he’s anxious... how his lips pursed when he’s upset, how brows twisted together in a twitch when he’s happy…
After all, you had Leon meticulously analysed and deconstructed before your existence was known.
It felt like yesterday when Wesker walked up to you at your night job, third job that day, at a crusty bar in the middle of Texas.
Stuck in a dead-end job, working eighty hours every week to scrape by rent, food, and school bills for your six year old daughter. You had no diploma, no certificate to prove yourself. But you are good with people. More accurately, you are good at lying.
You lied about life at the bar, making your life appear more enticing than it is to earn more tips from customers.
Yesterday, you were a theatre kid dreaming of making it big in Hollywood. Today, you are loosely related to the famous artist, Claude Monet. Tomorrow, who knows what you’ll be. You illustrated your life through the dreams you wanted, and maybe then, the pain might go away, even if it’s just for one night.
But Wesker saw through you. He saw through who you are. He knew you were perfect for the job.
Desperate for money, you accepted. Wesker paid you a hefty sum each week to watch over Leon. You observed him for months during his day-offs, places his frequented, memorised his schedule through countless nights staking out in front of his apartment. You studied him to the bone, so you could be his perfect partner for your agenda.
Three months later, you revealed your fabricated façade in front of him, under the guise as a researcher with field experience. Leon couldn’t resist – not the you in the red outfit, dyed hair, trained voice so seductive it summoned his attention in mere seconds.
You let Leon believed he made the first move, that he managed to win you over with a cheesy candlelit dinner, despite the objective you carried. Within a short three weeks of dating, Leon uttered his first ‘I love you’ . It was all according to the plan, until you received the most devastating news from your heart.
You fell in love.
“Baby. What’re you thinking?” The blonde next to you brushed his lips on the back of your raised palm, a gentle kiss, a quiet reassurance. His unkempt hair and muddied face simply accentuated the blues between his lashes, igniting an emotion you so desperately want to suppress.
Detach your emotions. You reminded yourself, but it resembled a cry for mercy to your heart.
“Imagining how I’m going to play with you after this mission.” It was true, but untruthful all in one. You teased a grin out of your lips, an urge to break free the shackles of falsehood restrained behind your bitten tongue.
Leon’s features softened into a grin, glancing away as if to avoid your sight to his lightly tinted cheeks. The ink in his pupils dilated, groomed eyebrows repelling from the centre, crow’s feet dangling in joy. In solitude with you, Leon became familiar with how his emotions would spill in front of you, always wondering what he ever did to deserve you.
He was too in love to see what you're doing to him. He was too in love to see you’ve been detouring his route. He was too in love to see that you will never make it to Ashley Graham in time.
Guilt trickled into your chest, slow yet constant, eventually filling your heart with a weight of the impending day that you would leave Leon forever at the end of this mission. With nothing but a farewell note to grief his sorrows.
Leon dropped his head to kiss you on the lips ever so gentle and trusting.
You still have time. You don’t have to think about that now. You can just pretend for a moment this will last forever.
The sound of muffled vibrations from your pockets snapped you from your thoughts. One glance at the caller ID, and you paused.  
“My research lead’s calling.” You gestured to your phone, swiftly leaving the gun range to hide, answering when you're out of earshot. Irritated, your voice flipped to your natural tone and cadence.
“What is it, Krauser?”
“New orders. The Amber is retrieved. Wesker sent a nuke to wipe out the island. It’s arriving…” His gruff voice grew into an audible smirk. “in T-minus thirty minutes.”
“What about me?” You panicked. Wesker was going to leave you behind.
“You’ll be just out of range.” He paused. “I think. But the rookie must live. I’ll kill him with my own hands.”
Your mind instantly thought of your daughter, Abby, that if you were to die today, she would be alone… the thought broke your heart.
“I can’t do this anymore. I want to go. Home.”
“You don’t get a choice – it’s either this, or your daughter dies.” The phone buzzed at the static of Krauser’s growl. Your head goes blank. Suddenly, you can’t think straight.
“What did you do to Abby?” Your voice cracked, almost fuming, phone clutched tighter. “Don’t touch my daughter, you filthy scum.”
“Then do as you’re asked.” Just like that, Krauser hung up.
Quick to jump to conclusions, your brain imagined the worst possible scenario – your baby daughter starved, held against her will, crying for her mother’s help. Cold sweat collected at your quivered hand, almost slipping your phone off your hands.
The blunt sound of rounds fired through the shooting range. You paced to Leon quickly, mind in a daze, urgently snapping back to the present. Fear tied you to the railway tracks, and the train is rapidly approaching.
“What did your lead sa– ” In one swift motion, you draped your arms around Leon’s waist before he could finish his sentence. With your front flushed against his sturdy back, you brainstormed your next move while the clock counted down. “Did something happen?”
25 minutes.
You mentally adjusted to the time, while shaking your head to his response.  “I just really miss you. That's all.”
Twenty-five minutes, that’s all you needed. Ashley Graham would have to find her own way out on this one.
You nuzzled into Leon’s back deliberately, pecking gentle kisses light enough that tickled just enough for him to turn around. You pounced at this opportunity to kiss him on the lips, breathing sweet nothings into his ear. “I want you.”
“Right now?” A raised eyebrow, a glance around his surroundings, and a sneer like he had just been pranked.
You crawled your hands to his biceps, seizing the bulge where his sleeves and skin meet, picking the garment off.
“Sweetheart…” His breath turned chesty, audible. “Don’t do this to me…”
Leon displayed no signals for you to stop, despite his words betraying him. His calloused fingertips ventured to your waist, squeezing lightly on your love handles as if that alone will satisfy all his urges.
The air between you two thickened, his finger coming up to between your cheeks with his thumb and index finger, until your cheeks were secured in his palm, until his eyes could carve out every curvature of your lips. Leon’s softened expression extorted something in you that you desperately wanted to suppress – something trivial that should not be your priority right now.
Stay focus, you. Your daughter is hurting.
15 minutes.
Yet your heart pulsed electric, conducting a spark that obsessed you wholly. A relentless force compelled you to run your breath down the slight-sloped trapezius. It called for you to play with fire just a bit longer, at least until the calmness in his gaze dissipates. Transforming into a stare so carnal you felt you were about to be preyed upon.
“C’mon, baby. Just five minutes. Then I’ll wait till we’re home.” You prodded at his desires with a whisper, arms hooked around his neck, summoning his eagerness with a murmur into his earlobes. “I know you want it too.”
Leon’s throat cleared, jaw clenched in resistance, swallowing back the temptation and reminded, not just to you, but to himself. “We’re on duty.”
Begrudgingly, he is determined to see this mission through.
You unclipped your tactical gear, letting it land on the floor next to you. Next your belt went too, along with your jeans and underwear in one tug. Leon stared at you with eyes charged with lust as you revealed your bareness in front of him, your top still clothed. A tear of slick ran down your thigh.
“Fuck…” Low growls released between Leon’s breath. His fists clenched white, a futile attempt to resist his desire. “You always want it your way, don’t you?”
When Leon started unbuckling underneath you, you know you have won.
“I’ve convinced you, huh?” You used this opportunity to pull off yours and his ear piece in the heat of the moment. If Hunnigan called to warn Leon about the incident, you would be in great trouble. “Taking these off so Hunnigan can’t hear us.”
“Stop talking.” He cut you off, tone abrasive, commanding.
Leon hoisted your whole body, which led you to shriek, hooking your legs around his waist for support. You groaned in pain as your butt slammed harshly against the bench on the shooting range while he ensnared your lips into his, devouring your taste.
“You wanna test me? Fine. I’m not going to hold back anymore.” Leon grimaced, eyes veiled with a fiery lust you haven’t seen from him in a while. It was evident that both of you have been pent up after weeks of chastity. His hand dipped southwards, circling your inner thighs with his thumb, not quite at the speed you wished he would be at.
“Lee… please.” You pleaded, grinding yourself against his hips.
Leon slicked his hand up with his spit, coating his dick damp, and buried himself inside of you. You arched yourself at the edge of the bench, both hands behind you bracing the impact of his passion. You swallowed a mouthful of cold air, a hazy gasp liberated you from the knot of stress, all while Leon’s eyes fixated on your every squirm.
“Is that what you want, baby?” Your heart pounded against your chest, and you nodded through bitten lip.
The sound of your slick permeated through the dimly lit room, perfectly atmosphered for this kind of activity. Leon leaned onto his knees, slamming you deeper until your torso almost tipped over the other side of the bench, forcing you to readjust. The wood furnishings creaked loudly at each thrust as your mind blanked.
You flushed your body against his, a deep groan rooted from your core. Your breath hastened, a welling of excitement begged for release. No coherent thought passed your brain as you chased your orgasms together.
Leon slumped on top of your body, cheeks tinted pink as your chests heaved in exertion. The roughness of his hands dissipated, in favour of affection. His nails stroked along your scalp, brushing away the ill-sensation that lingered in you.
“You’re so beautiful.” Leon planted a kiss of gratitude and sentiment on your forehead. The words tickled you slightly at the throat, letting out a sighed chuckle.
“What’s so funny?” He raised an eyebrow.
“Nothing.” He would laugh too if he knew that you were, and still is, the opposite of beautiful. A lying, money hungry, hideous witch on the inside. You glanced down at your watch face, timer counting down to five minutes.
“I’m going to call my lead.” You dressed yourself, pacing away urgently. Anxiety returned as quick as it had left, and the surge of concern ran through your mind, desperate for answers. Desperate for any kind of affirmation that Abby would be okay.
Your finger dialled the number in your recent list, connecting the line.
“Oh, if it isn’t you.” Krauser’s tone condescending. “My orders were to keep the rookie distracted.”
“Leon won’t make it to the island in five minutes by boat. He won’t be a problem, I swear.” You clarified. “Now, where’s Abby? Tell me where she is.”
“Don’t worry about her. She’s alive… for now.” Through gritted teeth, you silenced your anger. You need to know at all cost. “Let me hear her. Please.”
Krauser snickered, his voice fading into the background and a familiar voice, was muffled, panted deeply in release.
“Mum!”
“Abby?” Your fist unclenched your phone, softening at the sound of your daughter’s voice despite Abby’s much restraint and struggle. “I’m coming to rescue you sweetie. Mummy’s coming, love. Hang in there for me a bit longer, okay? I miss you so much, my beautiful.”
“I miss you too, mu–” Her words cut off before she could finish.
Footsteps. Leon’s.
“We need to go. There’s an incoming attack.” Leon darted around the corner in urgency, his hand pressed into his ear piece with Hunnigan through the other end. Your eyes met his, phone broadcasting the cries of help from your daughter, struggled and muffled groans crying out ‘mum’.
One reddened eye, that was all it took. Without warning, tears escaped through your eyes like a bowl welled up to the very brim, one droplet away from crumbling the barriers you worked so hard to build, your very foundation itself. Your daughter is going to die, and the love of your life knows that you’re a liar.
This is it. This is the end.
“What’s going on?” Leon marched to you, each step slow and deliberate. “Who’s that girl?”
To Be Continued in Part 2.
Tumblr media
thanks for reading the first part of uncovered secrets! it's also my first attempt on a multi-part series, so i'm super excited & nervous! if there's anything i can do better, please let me know. i'm open to constructive criticism! ––yours truly, rose. reblogs, likes, comments are greatly appreciated! / my writing masterlist tags: @luisnavarros (pm me if you want to be tagged on all my works) © roseglazedlens - please do not translate, copy or repost any of my writing.
Tumblr media
288 notes · View notes
porcelainseashore · 3 months
Text
Ghosts from the Past (4)
Tumblr media
Series Masterlist
Pairing: Agent! Leon Kennedy x Dancer! Informant! Fem! Reader
Summary: 7 years after leaving behind everything you’ve known, you’re suddenly thrust into facing a ghost from your past, Leon. Navigating where you stand with him brings up old memories, painful truths and countless questions. At the same time, you have to deal with a bunch of strange occurrences at your dance company. Set after Resident Evil 4 Remake.
Warnings: 18+ Swearing, Recreational Drug Use, Alcohol, Eventual Smut, No (Y/N), Canon-Typical Horror and Violence, Blood, Injury, Torture, Infection, Medical Experiments, Psychological Trauma, Nightmares
Content: Post-Resident Evil 4, Exes to Lovers, Partners to Lovers, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Lack of Communication, Romance, Fluff
Author's Note: Oof, I'm really nervous with my portrayal of the mystery woman in red, but hopefully it makes for a good read. Also, a word of caution on some medical horror lying in wait.
AO3 Link
Chapter 4: Red
The deal with the scientist would go down early in the week, on the day after your performance. Bergmann had requested for you to accompany Leon, much to his chagrin. As always, your handler relished in the game of politics, wanting to make life a little more difficult for the golden boy, just because she could. It was petty, but she had always done her job well, so no one really questioned her methods. If there was one thing Germany was well-known for, it was red tape - a lot of it. Bergmann used that as an excuse to get you to keep an eye on him. This ensured that it wasn’t just the US side setting the agenda, and she would earn her place of glory if the mission was successful. It had to be.
Ever since the dreadful confession you had with Leon, you focused on the lead up to the performance, distancing yourself from the man as much as you could. Each question he had was met with curt, one-word answers. You completed your reports and handed them in without a word. The actions you took seemed to cause him visible pain, as if a brick wall was cracking bit by bit. You picked up on the nuances in his body language, especially whenever you shunned him. The way his eyes flickered when he stared at you, emptying out like a hollowed shell as he pressed his lips together in a taut line.
On the day of your performance, he wished you good luck, repeating the same words he had slipped you on a note back in high school. “You got this.” A timid smile formed on his face, unsure of how you’d react, but carrying a small glimmer of hope. 
Until then, you had barely acknowledged his presence, but now you retaliated with a look of revulsion. How dare he play with your feelings? 
“You’ve got some nerve,” you spat, turning on your heel and slamming the door on your way out, without waiting for his reply.
That night, as everyone was busy preparing for the show’s premiere, Leon had taken advantage of the diversion to do a reconnaissance of the place, based on the details you had provided to him. Channeling the whirlwind of emotions you had gone through into your movements, you danced through Silje’s latest creation, ‘The Rite’, a piece about passion, sacrifice and death. It almost felt like a ritual or secret initiation, as you rolled through the earth scattered on the stage set, muddied and stripped down like an animal, before being forced into a red dress by your co-dancers and given up as an offering to the gods.
The end of the performance was met with a resounding applause and multiple encores, as Silje came on stage to receive the customary bouquet of flowers, which she handed over to you. It was as if a huge weight had been lifted from your shoulders, as you made your way backstage to wipe the dirt off your face and look presentable again. You did it. In spite of all the trials and tribulations, you made it here as Silje’s star. But even then, it still felt like something was amiss. 
Sighing, you exited the stage doors to enter the foyer, where you greeted the theater patrons and other important people along with your fellow dancers. From the corner of your eye, you spotted someone you recognized - a tall, young man, with his dark raven hair slicked back with wax. He was impeccably dressed in a suit that you assumed was personally tailored to him, and exuded elegance as he made a beeline towards you. Your heart skipped a beat. Of course, you’d forgotten he would be here. He never missed any of Silje’s shows.
“What a performance!” He exclaimed, his radiant smile causing his eyes to crinkle with joy. Cupping his hands over yours, he gave them a squeeze. “You were wonderful as always.”
“Mikkel?” You tried to feign happiness in seeing him, as a tinge of disappointment overcame you. No matter how much you tried to snuff out the burning desire within, you wished it was someone else. Someone whom you’d rather leave in the past.
“It’s so good to see you,” he remarked genuinely.
Suddenly, as if he had a knack for showing up at the most inopportune times, you heard Leon’s rugged voice. “There you are.”
You didn’t face him, but you could tell that he seemed a little out of breath. “I managed to catch the last of it. You were amazing.” His hand hovered just over the small of your back, wanting to touch you, but knowing he couldn’t.
Mikkel flashed him a puzzled look. “Mikkel.” He extended his hand. “And you are…?”
“Leon.” It sounded tense and pinched, as he ignored the offer for a handshake.
You stepped in to interject before anymore damage could be done. “He’s, um, an old friend from the States,” you explained, nodding between the two of them awkwardly.
“Visiting?” Mikkel questioned.
“You could say that,” Leon muttered, in a tone that showed the initial signs of irritation.
Mikkel appeared to have perceived this and instead focused his attention on you. “Well, actually, I have been meaning to ask you,” he began mindfully. “If you would like to follow up on where we left off that night?”
You felt the temperature around you drop to a negative value, as his words hung in the air in deafening silence.
“Maybe we could… discuss this another time?” You suggested meekly. God, you were terrible at letting people down.
“I’m sure now is as good a time as any,” Leon interrupted tersely. You could feel the accusing glares he was throwing your way. “Wouldn’t want to keep Mikkel here hanging, right?”
For the first time since the conversation started, you turned towards him, giving him a warning glance. “Leon.”
He tilted his head to the side, scrutinizing you with a bold defiance in his eyes.
“Sorry, uh- I’ll call you or something,” you mentioned rather noncommittally to Mikkel, as you dragged Leon away from the foyer.
Once you were certain you were out of earshot, you threw your hands up in vexation. “Seriously, what the fuck?” You hissed. “Don’t you have a job to do?”
“Oh, you mean the recon part? Yeah, done and dusted,” he scoffed, aware that you were purposely avoiding the subject.
“You know, it’s pretty rich of you to give me the silent treatment, when you seem to have moved on yourself,” he admonished.
So, he saw this as a competition? You shook your head disparagingly. “Mikkel was a date that never went anywhere. Unlike your mystery woman,” you pointed out. “Happy now?”
His features relaxed, though he noted self-deprecatingly, “You could have a normal life with him.”
What he said confused you to no end, on the one hand indicating that it would be better to be with another man, yet at the same time not wanting you to.
“And what if I don’t want a normal life?” You retorted, backing away from Leon as you spoke, making it clear that the talk was over. “Listen, I don’t have time to argue with you about this. I’m needed backstage.”
“Hey, wait-”
You didn’t give him a chance to finish. “You should go, Leon, before Silje sees you.” Leaving him with that piece of advice, you parted ways.
━━━━━━━━━━━
Back in the dressing room, you found yourself alone with Silje, who beamed at you with pride. “I knew you would pull through.”
Picking up a dark, champagne bottle by her side on the table, she tipped it into a flute glass, handing it over to you encouragingly. The sparkly liquid was mesmerizing, as if flecks of gold reflected along its surface. You’d never seen a color quite like it.
“It’s the most sought after one we have,” she articulated with an alluring timbre. “For special occasions.”
You took the glass, still enthralled by its contents, placing it to your lips as you drank the champagne unquestioningly. It tasted like a sweet nectar, warm and heady as it flowed down your throat and coursed through your veins. A brilliant light dazzled you and it felt like your body was vaporizing into the atmosphere. Then, you heard Silje’s voice in slow motion from the background, “Congratulations, my child…”
When you awoke, you found yourself back in your bed with no memory of how you got there. Your mind was reeling and you felt extremely groggy and unsteady, to the point where you were unable to shift yourself up to a sitting position on the mattress. 
What on earth was in that drink? You wondered if you had taken too much by accident. Maybe Silje brought you home when you passed out.
Disregarding any further thoughts, you decided that it would be best to find sleep, as you had a long day ahead of you tomorrow. But even within the throes of sleep you couldn’t find respite, because the dreams came soon after.
You were walking through darkened corridors. There was hardly any light source, except for a blue luminous sheen that coated every surface, as if you were on an alien planet. Feeling the concrete walls with your hands to guide the way, you eventually came to rest in front of a set of crimson doors. Leaning your entire weight against them, they screeched as you pushed them open, the force causing you to stumble into a room that was enveloped in a thick smog. The cover was so dense that you couldn’t see anything else beyond it and it was getting harder to breathe. 
Gradually, you began to succumb to a sort of tranquil unconsciousness. Then, you found yourself lying on a cold, metallic surface, and each time you opened your eyes, you made out vague figures of medical staff surrounding you. Surgical instruments, petri dishes and test tubes lined the counters near the table. As you couldn’t hold your eyes open for long, the images appeared like vignettes. One of the staff members in scrubs inserted a strange device with a thin needle into your vagina. The frigidity of it caused you to wince, and you felt a light suction tugging at you from within. Once they had finished with the procedure, they whisked the fluids and material away. You couldn’t scream, you didn’t have an urge to - everything felt so comfortable and numb.
The next moment, you heard the distant wail of a baby that got closer and closer, until it seemed like it was directly at the side of your ear. Twisting your head in the source of the crying, a child-like silhouette covered in a substance resembling tar crawled on the ground towards you, squelching with each movement and leaving black imprints in its wake. There were remnants of an eye and tufts of hair peeking out from beneath the slimy substance. Despite its grotesque shape, you felt a sense of connection to it, wanting to reach out and embrace it in your arms. When it was only inches away from you, your eyes snapped shut and you faded into oblivion.
━━━━━━━━━━━
Rousing yourself out of a deep slumber, you were startled to find that you were back at the dressing room of the theater, where you had celebrated with Silje yesterday evening. You immediately checked under your clothes for any signs that you had been operated on against your will, but found none.
Glancing at your watch, you cursed out loud as panic set in. You were running late for the meeting between Leon and the scientist. It didn’t take much for you to put aside the weird dream you had the night before. After all, there were far more important things to worry about right now, and there was a logical explanation for what had happened. You probably went a little overboard with the drinking and then fell asleep at the theater. It wouldn’t have been the first time this had happened either. The company had a tendency to revel in successful premieres.
Rushing over to the location you had been given, you met Leon’s stern gaze as he got out of the car he had been waiting in outside of the abandoned warehouse. He tapped on the window, indicating for the driver to do a couple of rounds before heading back to avoid suspicion.
“Partied too hard?” He questioned snippily, while making his way inside the place.
You mumbled out a quick apology, following him from behind. He was probably still sore from how your exchange ended last night.
From afar, an older man with graying hair and spectacles peeked out from behind one of the rusty beams. Upon seeing you both, he stepped over nervously, wringing his hands.
“You got the papers?” He asked, his voice was raspy as if he had swallowed sandpaper.
“Mm hm,” Leon continued to advance towards him. “Card first.”
The man nodded, looking behind his shoulders anxiously before stretching out his hand with a slim, white keycard nestled in his palm. Leon swiped it from him, examining it briefly. Finding it satisfactory, he pressed a large brown envelope into the man’s chest. 
“Your new ID. Ride’s outside.” Leon motioned to the entrance with his thumb.
“Uh- right, thanks.” The man hugged the envelope till it was slightly crushed against his body, still hesitant to move, like he had something else to say.
“Look, uh-” he stammered. “With every batch, there’s a fail-safe.” He whispered the last word as if he was afraid someone else would overhear him. “It should be marked with a red label.”
After that, he scampered off, while you waited patiently beside Leon. “So, what now?”
“I’ll worry about that.” His eyes softened as they trailed across your face, etching every mole, every contour and every line to his memory. “You just get home safe, ok?”
Would this be the final time you see him? Anything could happen when he tried to shut down the base, but you didn’t want to think about it. And even if everything went according to plan, you had outlived your purpose. He didn’t need you anymore. You would go your separate ways. A deal was a deal.
You thought back to the compromise you had made together that night at the smoky bar, as tears welled up in your eyes. Regardless of the pain he had caused you and your recent standoffish demeanor towards him, you couldn’t imagine the day would come where you’d have to say goodbye to him all over again.
He reached out, brushing his knuckles against your cheek, as you closed your eyes, causing the tears to splash down. Wiping them away with the back of his glove, he spoke again, his voice cracking under the weight of emotions, “I should go.”
“Not so fast.”
You heard the unmistakable sound of someone placing their finger on the trigger of a gun. Click.
Your eyes flew open. A slender woman in a red, full-length bodysuit and thigh high boots had appeared out of nowhere, aiming her handgun at Leon’s back. Your breath hitched, as you stood frozen on the spot. This was way out of your league and you prayed that he was coming up with some sort of tactic while she spoke.
“Didn’t expect to be seeing you again so soon, Leon,” she hinted provocatively. “You never tire of babysitting duties, do you?” A husky laugh rang out across the space. “Or are you the one currently being babysat?”
“Hm, cute,” he huffed as he shifted his footing slightly, giving her a sidelong glance.
“Not a step closer,” she warned, adjusting her aim threateningly.
You looked between the two of them curiously, assessing the familiarity with which they greeted each other, even though their expressions were hardened and unrelenting. “You seem to know her well,” you discerned.
“Too well.”
Something in the tone of his voice gave it away, and like a winded blow to your gut, you suspected that this was the other woman that had been in his life in your absence.
“It’s her, isn’t it?” 
Now was definitely not the time to confront Leon with this information, but you couldn’t reign in that gnawing feeling in your stomach. You had to know.
When you saw the pang of remorse that flashed across his eyes briefly, you had your answer.
“I hate to break up this reunion, but you happen to have something I want.” Catching him off-guard, the woman swiftly closed the distance and threw a roundhouse kick to his neck, but he managed to block it, though staggering to the side a bit.
Immediately, he drew his combat knife from its sheath, swiping at her aggressively to push her away from you. 
“Go!” He yelled back at you. 
However, you stayed rooted to the ground, unwilling to desert him to fend for himself on his own, as well as hoping to learn more about this mysterious woman.
Soon, they turned the warehouse space into a makeshift battleground, entering into a dance of lethal exchanges. Twisting, striking, and dodging, their movements became a blur, as they attacked and countered each other with deadly precision. Occasionally, a stray bullet was fired and you recoiled, taking cover behind one of the dilapidated pillars.
Just as you thought that the two combatants had entered into a stalemate, Leon ended up dominating the fight with a strategic flick of his knife, so fast that you barely missed it, holding it to her throat as he snarled, “Who are you working for this time, Ada?”
Ada. The name echoed in your ears, foreign and unknown, yet growing more intimate by the minute. You stole another look at her from your hiding spot. She was confident, strong and beautiful - all the qualities that made her desirable in such a cutthroat world. And you somehow understood why a man like Leon would have fallen for her, even though there was a dangerous glint in her eyes.
“So predictable,” she scoffed. “Always asking the same questions you’ll never get the answers to.” Cocking her head, she jested, “Who do you think, handsome?”
A sense of disgust started to rise like bile within you. A mercenary. She had to be one. And Leon went for her like a lap dog.
“Cut the crap,” he growled.
However, he didn’t expect you to interfere. “A mercenary? Really, Leon?” You snorted in disbelief as you impulsively tread out into the open. “Didn’t think you would stoop that low.”
A low whistle broke out from Ada’s lips as Leon shot you a withering look, both annoyed and surprised that you were still here. “I’m handling this. You need to leave. Now!”
“No, I’m staying,” you contested. “I can’t trust you to do the right thing anymore.” Folding your arms, you regarded him with nothing but disdain. “All of this is going into my report.”
Ada appeared amused by your rebellious outburst. Whereas, Leon’s face contorted in a mixture of rage, hurt and incredulity, “This isn’t the time to-”
In his moment of distraction, Ada tackled him to the ground, kicking him in the face to stun him temporarily, before hooking on to an attachment with her grapple gun, swooping over to you in the blink of an eye. You hardly had any time to react as she wrangled your arms behind you into a lock and zip-tied your wrists together.
You knew it was due to your inability to get a hang over your emotions that led you into this vulnerable position, but some part of you didn’t care. There were so many things that had been weighing down on you, causing you to make reckless decisions.
Leon got to his feet cautiously, his face bruised and bleeding as he raised his hands up in surrender. You had never seen him look this torn up before. That’s when you felt the nuzzle of Ada’s gun poking at the temple of your head and you gasped audibly, suddenly aware of how close you were flitting to death.
“Ada, please.” He sounded almost like he was begging on his knees. “Leave her out of this.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Keycard, now,” she barked, gesturing for him to hand it over to her.
Holding the card up between his index and middle finger, he flung it over. It sliced through the air and landed in her grasp.
“Good boy.” She smiled in approval.
Leon stepped forward guardedly. “Let her go,” he demanded.
“The last I recall, you weren’t the one calling the shots,” she smirked, referencing how you had challenged his authority earlier.
Before he could respond, she fired at a weak spot in one of the precarious-looking beams from above him, causing a section of the ceiling to come tumbling down. You shouted at him to watch out, and he ducked out of the way, but was now trapped by a bunch of rubble.
“Think I’ll keep her with me for a while. She’ll be useful,” Ada remarked languidly, biding her time as if the battle had already been won.
“Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of her.” She winked at him, while he scrambled to break out of his confinement, hollering that he would come for you.
As you struggled, she pulled you in harshly to stop you, dragging you outside towards a vehicle parked at the corner of the building. Opening the car door to the passenger seat, she shoved you inside, warning you not to try anything funny. Hopping into the driver’s seat, she set off at breakneck speed.
“What do you want?” You asked vehemently, while at the same time attempting to maneuver your hands as discreetly as possible to reach your back pocket, where you usually kept Leon’s Swiss Army knife. However, the zip tie was proving to be a greater hindrance than you expected and you were failing with every endeavor.
She didn’t give an answer. Well, not the one you were looking for anyway.
“You seem to matter a lot to him,” she commented. “Interesting.”
“But he still loves you.” What you had been repressing for the past few days spilled out of you without a filter.
It was Ada’s turn to eye you with skepticism as she mocked sardonically, “Love? Oh please, don’t make me laugh.”
“He’s fun to play with.” She turned back to face the road and shrugged, but you noticed a subtle reflection of sorrow in her eyes. “Though perhaps more suited to a naive, little girl like you,” she added bitterly.
You figured that this ‘heart-to-heart’ had hit a raw nerve, and both Ada and Leon were hiding more than they were letting on. Sitting in silence, you wondered how much of what Leon had been telling you was true.
Ada’s hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, swerving the car around before coming to a screeching halt. “We’re here.”
As she let you out, she made sure that you were close in front of her, every now and then bumping the hilt of her gun as a reminder of who was in charge. You stared down at the looming theater over on the next block. It was eerily quiet like a ghost town, with not a soul in sight. On the street, a lone paper bag rustled in the wind. Where was everyone?
“Lead the way,” she ordered, and you began to walk.
97 notes · View notes
soiwatchyougo · 12 days
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
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.
43 notes · View notes
hades-in-bloom · 9 months
Text
A Swim | Leon S. Kennedy x Reader
I somehow had it on repeat while writing *cracks up*
summary: Colorado wasn’t the only self-indulgent vacation that Kennedy took before he found a road to sobriety. When the world is the oyster, Bangkok is the pearl.
content: cheesy af (help me), older Leon, drunkard Leon, thus mentions of alcoholism; mentions of/implied thoughts of suicide, kinda light angst (obviously); Hunnigan with an agenda; gn! and a tad bossy reader with Interpol background; heavy sexual tension, swearing
author’s note: that was unplanned and uncalled for, proceed at your own risk. Also, I need to scream about the man in Death Island. Omfg.
if you’re a minor, go away <3
love y’all, you beautiful souls
xoxo
***
Ingrid called you in the middle of the night, reassuring that only you could track down the infamous Leon S. Kennedy. You breathed out a sleepy “…Why?” and got a response that you could barely consider an explanation. He took a vacation, Hunnigan said. He seemed to disappear, and she needed him back immediately. You could not see her face, but you could hear a pretty please in her voice.
“I am not even under D.S.O. command.” You groaned lightly. You have been working with several D.S.O. agents for the past couple of years, particularly with agent Kennedy, but you have been directly reporting to Interpol instead.
“I have already cleared you for this assignment,” Ingrid confessed. You stayed silent for a moment and then sighed. There wasn’t anything that Hunnigan could not do, after all. “He trusts you.”
As for you, Leon Kennedy trusted no one, but you wouldn’t get into this argument.
“Where was he seen last time?” You pulled yourself out of bed and walked towards the pair of jeans that were casually hanging from the only chair present in your room.
“Ingrid?” You called again when radio silence was your answer.
“We assume he is Bangkok, Thailand, since two days ago.” You sensed a touch of guilt in Hunnigan’s voice. “You have already been booked for a commercial flight.”
It took your tired brain a bit of time to do the math.
“Isn’t it like fifteen hours or so from JFK?” You inquired, genuinely concerned.
“Twenty hours,” Ingrid confirmed mercilessly. “You need to be at the airport within an hour.”
Rushing to your wardrobe, you devotedly cursed Kennedy to the high heavens.
***
Bangkok was hot. Your shirt became almost transparent in minutes and now felt like a second skin clinging to your body. You didn’t like it. You didn’t like any of it. Not until you find the son of a bitch, Kennedy, who went rogue due to no particular reason and made a decision to vacay on the other side of the planet Earth.
The taxi driver that you hailed on the street was painfully chatty, thanks to your creeping headache, but your suffering was about to end when your cab stopped in the middle of the road abruptly.
“That’s the place.” The driver told you in broken English, and you swiftly left the creaking vehicle that smelled of cheap cigarettes and incense.
The place was a dimly lit bar with little to no likable people inside. Damned Leon S. Kennedy was occupying one of the bar stools but was also spearheading the list of human beings that you felt no sympathy for at this particular moment.
He was drunk. You knew he appreciated his liquor, but you had never seen him even close to the condition he was in right now.
You briefly messaged Hunnigan that you have just found her “runaway bride” before shortening the distance to Leon’s chair. He made no effort to check out the newcomer, and you took it to your advantage.
“Surprise, you asshole.” You greeted him coldly. The agent blinked; you could see gears turn inside his intoxicated head while he was trying to identify you.
Finally, he grunted.
“The heck are you doing here?” His voice was hoarse. You blamed it all on some cheap brandy in his whiskey glass. “I am on vacation.”
“Your vacation is my vacation now, too, after Hunnigan made me fly twenty fuckin’ hours to find you.” You grimaced and took over the closest seat to Leon. He looked annoyed. You didn’t care.
“You look like you’ve had enough.” You concluded, having his drinking spree in mind.
He let out a drunken laugh that was devoid of joy. “What’s it to you if I have? I can take care of myself.” He scoffed and slurred his words a little.
A stubborn dumbass—you let out a heavy, irritated sigh. You felt your heat-infused headache intensifying.
“You cannot.” You gave him an unimpressed look. “At least I don’t consider it self-care when one drinks himself to death.” That was harsh, you thought. But right now he probably deserved it.
Your comment seemed to strike a chord with him.
“I told you I can take care of myself!” He raised his voice slightly, and some of the patrons looked over.
Jesus Christ. You wouldn’t consider yourself religious, though.
“How are you planning to take care of yourself?” You raised your voice slightly, too, giving him an unappreciative look. Suddenly, you quietly snapped. “I don’t know what you are thinking, Kennedy, but this is not a vacation. That’s a bloody suicide waiting to happen.”
You have seen alcoholics in your line of work before, and it didn’t matter what Leon thought of himself in this situation – but he looked like one.
To your surprise, he went silent, visibly taken aback. He blinked; there was a noticeable glimmer of confusion in Leon’s eyes.
Did not he realize that he was hurting himself this much?
“I’m fine…” Kennedy groaned, although his denial was slowly crumbling. “I’ll be fine…”
You could see he fought it – the alcohol numbed his feelings, but now, with a glimpse of sanity, they seemed to return to him in droves.
You watched him in awkward silence while he was babysitting his demons until he looked at you, both headstrong…
… and embarrassed?
“I swear, it would be better if Hunnigan sent some D.S.O. shrink, not you.” He grunted in disappointment, unwillingly sobering up. This vacation was over.
“Ingrid is worried about you.” You muttered, then scoffed. “And I’m your witness, Leon – you haven’t been fine in years. I know you long enough.”
He didn’t have to like what you said, but you thought he needed to hear this.
Leon gave you a dirty look. How could you see through him? The rest was tiptoeing around his alcoholism for ages, nurturing his drunken arrogance. You might not be nice, but what the others did was not kind.
The man cursed and fumblingly pulled his wallet out of the back pocket of his Hawaiian-looking shorts; these made you stifle a chuckle. The image of invincible Leon S. Kennedy looking like this would be imprinted into your brain forever and ever.
He threw a few – too many – bills in local currency on the table and got himself up heavily from the bar stool. Now he towered over you grumpily. “What a buzzkill you are,” he mumbled, and you could smell that cheap brandy you noticed before on his breath.
You smirked, showing no remorse. “Let’s get you a cab, handsome.”
***
He stayed in one of the hotels right at the beach, and, stepping out of the taxi, you froze for a second, enjoying the view.
“That's one thing people got right about Thailand; it's beautiful here.” Leon hummed, approaching you from behind.
You still had your gaze fixed on the curves of the twilight bay when Kennedy spoke again. “You're right... I haven't been fine in years.”
You raised your eyebrows at him, making no attempts to hide your flabbergasted facial expression. Was this man admitting that he was wrong?..
Then pigs were about to start flying.
But Leon kept going.
“Do you want to know what's been happening in my head... How badly have things affected me?”
Was he even drunker than you thought?
“Yes, you dumbass.” You replied softly. Whether it was Ingrid’s push or not, Hunnigan was not the only one who cared about Leon to follow him around the globe.
The man walked towards the seashore, letting the waves lick his feet.
“My mind is so chaotic these days,” Kennedy admitted; his voice was barely a whisper. “Sometimes, I even lose sleep at night because of the nightmares of...”
Leon hesitated. You didn’t nudge, afraid of ruining his mood. He has already called you a buzzkill once.
At last, he sighed. Why was it so hard to talk about it?
“I made promises I couldn’t keep; that’s all you need to know.” Leon summed it up without looking at you. Did he really want to talk about it? You followed his tired, unfocused gaze, staring at the horizon.
“How about a swim?” Your suggestion came out of nowhere. You tilted your head, waiting for his response, and he glanced at you, confused, for the first time in the past moments.
Leon then let out a laugh in a drunken manner. “What? Now? In my state? I'll sink straight to the bottom.”
“You decided to vacation in Thailand – and not to swim?” You rolled your eyes at him jokingly and pulled him by his wrist. “Come on, Kennedy.” You begged. You might have been a tad aggressive back then, in the bar, but now…
You thought he deserved a break.
Leon groaned slightly but didn’t fight it, tagging along behind you. He felt a little dizzy; the cheapness of the served brandy was finally getting to him. Despite it all, he scoffed, his tone friendlier than before. “You are not going to let me forget that I am on vacation here, are you?”
You smirked, stepping into the gentle ocean waters and shamelessly ignoring his question. “We are not going to go far. I won’t let you drown, Kennedy.”
He smirked. “I trust you.” Oh, did he? Suddenly, shivers ran down your spine when you recalled Hannigan’s words. Why were you special?
You submerged in the water further with no regard to your clothes, now soaking wet. Leon, to your amusement, did the same.
“That should help with your hangover tomorrow.” You gave him a dirty look, and he huffed out a laugh.
“What's with all the dirty looks you've been giving me all day? You think I deserve it?”
“Oh, you deserve all of them.” You snorted - right before he pulled you by the waist, making you scoff out of surprise. You froze, barely reaching his chin covered with two-day stubble.
“You are drunk, Kennedy.” You reminded him softly, still making no attempts to leave his embrace. His intense gaze was trained on you.
“I'm not that drunk,” he scoffed, a grin forming on his lips. What the heck was going on?
“Oh, you are that drunk, Kennedy.” You smirked at him.
And then you felt it; his lips crashed into yours. Unconsciously, your hand darted to his hair, playing with the dirty blonde strands. A soft moan escaped your lips.
What were you thinking? It felt so wrong; you have been partners for years, and you didn’t like to mix work and pleasure. And if he had an excuse, let alone an awful one, to kiss you, you had none.
It felt so good, though.
Leon pulled away from your lips only when your lungs started to burn with a lack of air. His grin was too cheeky for your liking.
“You don't mind spending the night with me, do you?” The audacity.
You smirked. “I’ll spend a night with you when you sober up, handsome.” Otherwise, one of you might have regretted it – while him standing in front of you with wet hair and a soaked-up t-shirt made you hot and bothered. Damn, that man was fine. One way or another, at least.
“You should get to bed, Kennedy.” … And sleep through that hangover.
“Just one more…” He mumbled—one more taste of your lips. “... For today.”
Liar. So you whined into his lips softly when he kissed you again. And again.
Forcing yourself out of the water later, you looked at the boiling ocean; the waves crashed against each other as the sun set behind them. It took you all your willpower to let go of him this evening, and the only thought that brought you peace was that he was suffering at the loss of contact as much as you were.
***
You called him the following morning when you were making yourself a coffee.
“Hey.” Your lips curved into a smile. “How is your hangover, handsome?”
Leon, barely awake, first laughed, then groaned, and there was an audibly sound note of hangover in his voice, too.
“A dreadful headache... And I can still taste you on my lips, which doesn't help.” Your breath hitched. His comment about him tasting you stained your cheeks bright pink.
He yawned. “…I feel like crap.”
You mischievously bit your lip, although your tone was innocent. “Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?”
Leon, no doubt, knew precisely what would make him feel better right now.
206 notes · View notes