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if there's one thing to know about leon kennedy, it's that he pays attention.
you notice you're low on your favorite soap one morning and you make a mental note to grab it later. true to form, you forget after a busy day that left little room for much else.
imagine your surprise when you step into the shower that evening and a fresh bottle is sitting right where you'd left the old one.
your wiper fluid light pops on in your car. annoying, but you can probably stop for some tomorrow, right?
it's gone the next day.
out of your favorite snack after a late night craving? two bags are sitting on the shelf before you can even get to your shopping list on the fridge.
your boss blows up at you for the third time this month. your fault? no, but you need the job, or so you keep telling yourself.
your texts are shorter. not on purpose; the screen is just too blurry, your thoughts too full.
he’s home early.
you know this because you’ve barely kicked off your shoes before he’s folding you into him, your cheek pressed against his chest.
it’s all it takes for you to crumble again.
“need me to take care of it?” by the tone underlying the softness, you know he means it.
you just snort into his shoulder, hot tears seeping into fabric.
it’s there you catch a glimpse of the flowers on the foyer table, a book you’d mentioned wanting to read the other day next to them.
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He was hired at your family's ranch because, according to your father, "that boy knows horses better'n he knows people." And maybe he does, because all afternoon you watch him work with a chestnut mustang nobody else can get within twenty feet of.
The July sun is merciless. It hangs white and heavy over the pasture, baking the earth until every footstep sends little ghosts of dust swirling through the air. Sweat darkens the collar of Leon's faded denim shirt, sleeves rolled to his elbows, forearms browned by weeks under the Texas sun. His jeans are streaked with dirt from where he's been dragged through the round pen twice already, and his hat has long since lost the battle against the wind, hanging by its stampede string down his back.
He never raises his voice. He never yanks the lead rope. He just waits. And when it's advantageous, he moves. He breathes gently.
The mustang's ears finally flick toward him as he takes one hesitant step. Then another.
Leon smiles. It's small and private, like he'd rather earn an animal's trust than the admiration of everyone watching. Except for you. Absentmindedly, his eyes lift to find you. They stay a minute. Then he blinks and turns back to the horse, whispering quietly to it.
You don't realize you've been staring until your grandmother elbows you with a knowing little hum. You pretend you were watching the horse, and she pretends to believe you.
An hour later, the horse is following Leon around the pen without a lead.
Your father lets out a low whistle.
"Well I'll be damned."
Leon only scratches the horse between its ears before letting it wander away. He's dusty from boots to shoulders. A streak of dirt cuts across one cheek where he must've wiped away sweat with the back of his wrist.
He looks…beautiful.
Not polished, and certainly not clean. He's the kind of beautiful that's been earned.
You disappear into the house before anyone notices you're gone. When you come back, condensation is already racing down the sides of a mason jar filled to the brim with sweet tea. Ice clinks softly against the glass.
"Leon."
He turns at the sound of your voice. His eyes find you immediately.
They always do.
You're standing on the porch steps in a little yellow sundress that catches every breeze crossing the pasture. It dances around your thighs while the afternoon sun turns the fabric almost golden. Your hair's escaped whatever attempt you'd made to pin it up, and one loose strand keeps blowing across your face.
He seems to forget where he is for a minute. His eyes go distant as you approach.
You walk over and hold out the tea.
"For you."
He looks at the glass. Then at your dad, who was walking away to another pen. Than at you.
"...Thanks."
His fingers brush yours as he takes it.
The glass looks almost comically small in his hand.
He takes one long drink. The ice shifts with a crisp little crackle. Finally he lowers it.
"How come the other hands aren't gettin' special treatment?"
You glance toward the men working the fence line, then lean toward him, lowering your voice like you're about to reveal the ranch's oldest secret.
"'Cause you ain't like the others."
He blinks.
"...No?"
You smile. His eyes lower to it and stare. He squints against the sun.
"You're different."
The wind moves through the prairie grass. Somewhere behind the barn, a screen door slams.
Leon keeps looking at you. Long enough that the world seems to narrow into the space between the two of you.
His blue eyes soften in that almost imperceptible way they do when he's trying very hard not to let himself hope for something. He doesn't flirt. Doesn't grin. Doesn't tease you. He only lifts the mason jar again, draining the last of the sweet tea in one grateful swallow.
His throat works once. Twice. Then he hands you the empty glass.
"...Thank you."
It's quiet. Somehow earnest, like you gave him something much bigger than iced tea.
Before you can think of another clever thing to say, he's already tipping his hat back onto his head and turning back toward the pasture, walking back into the heat without another word.
You watch him go.
Dust rises around his boots. The horse he'd spent all afternoon gentling lifts its head the moment it sees him coming. It walks to meet him.
You don't notice your father stepping onto the porch until he speaks.
"That boy," he says, watching Leon disappear into the sunlight, "works like he's got somethin' to prove."
You smile into the empty glass in your hands.
"No." Your eyes follow the broad line of Leon's shoulders as he disappears into the shimmering heat. "He's finally somewhere he doesn't have to, and I think he knows that.”
something so unfairly attractive about leon kennedy eating an orange.
he's leaned against your counter like he owns it, bare hip propped against the cold marble, as he peels one. his hair is tousled and his sweatpants are riding lower and lower with each shift against the counter.
he obliviously offers you a slice once he cracks it open, not noticing the oggling or the sudden shift in atmosphere.
he slides you half when you accept–or double checks before shrugging if you decline.
he houses an orange or three. and when he's done, there's orange juice dripping from his fingers.
you shamelessly stare as he licks his lips first, before licking each finger with eye contact too deliberate to be coincidental. because of course, he's noticed that you're staring now.
you, on the other hand, certainly weren't imagining an entirely different substance running around his pretty mouth. that would be absurd.
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Hi, I'm Raven, and I'm running this campaign on behalf of my friend Ayoush. Any money raised will go to her in full. Please note the campaig
Hello friends 💗Thank you all for your continued support. I am very sorry to tell you that we recently experienced heavy shelling near us.
As a result, we lost everything. My handmade crochet work was burned and destroyed, and now I have to raise money again to buy the basic supplies I need, including crochet hooks, yarn, and threads.
The prices have become extremely high. Right now, I need only $200 to purchase the essential materials and start creating new pieces again.
You can see my previous work on my crochet Instagram page, and you are welcome to message me there if you would like.click here
Please support me in any way you can. If you cannot donate, please consider sharing my story and talking about it with others.
Even $15–$20 could make a real difference in my life.
Thank you for your kindness and support. ❤️
You can watch the video of the shelling through this link.
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These are some of my previous handmade creations. I miss being able to make pieces like these again.
𝐜𝐰. 944 words, smut (mdni), fem!reader x id!leon kennedy, established relationship, swearing, kind of pathetic leon, dry humping, coming in pants, praising, petnames (baby, pretty girl), no use of y/n
It felt like ages since Leon had gotten to touch you. One would think that after so long together, the two of you would eventually get used to the weeks, sometimes even months, apart. But it never really got easier, especially not when you both seemed to only grow more attractive and insatiable by the day; if you thought he'd looked hot back in academy, you were not ready for him to hit his thirties. The separation made the much-longed-for reunion that much more needy.
You didn't even take his pants off. He stumbled a bit when he was pushed down onto the couch, trying to remove his jacket. The second it was off, you flung it somewhere on the floor behind you. Your hands gripped his shoulders, pinning him back and climbing onto his lap as his mouth chased after yours desperately, always too slow, always too far behind. He grunted at the sensation of you—clad only in one of his shirts and your panties—lowering yourself onto the bulge straining in his jeans.
Leon's fingers pressed into your hips; you could already see the future bruises behind your closed eyelids. You began rolling your hips on his lap, hearing the sigh slipping through his hardly-parted lips. One hand of yours slid from his shoulder to his chest, feeling for the hammering heartbeat and muscle under the soft fabric. Matching you, his fingers crept under your top, ghosting over your ribs before closing around and pinching one of your nipples.
"Fuck, I missed you, baby," he groaned, practically fighting to keep himself planted on the couch instead on flipping you over and rutting into you with no restraint. You leaned forward and he met you halfway, hands guiding your movements again while he buried his face into your neck. Your moans and gasps crescendoed with each fluttering of his breath and brush of his stubble on your skin; your movements hitched with each delicious drag of denim against your clothed clit. The sounds turned Leon's brain to mush while the sensations grounded him, trapping him in a dizzying loop of pleasure that he never wanted to escape from.
He could only suck and nip at the junction of your neck and shoulder, as though you hid some miraculous secret of life beneath your skin. And with the way you scratched at his scalp, set the rhythm in exactly the way that made him lose his mind, and definitely weren't planning on stopping even when he half-tried to halt your movements? He couldn't rule out the possibility that you were heaven in human form. Or maybe, since you were so obviously dead-set on embarrassing him by drawing out an orgasm before he even got undressed, you were something closer to devilish.
"Stop, stop, I'm g—shit I wanna be inside you first, can I?" He practically whined into your ear. His hands roamed your skin beneath the shirt, sliding to the back and toying with the waistband of your panties just until a shiver ran down your spine; then he went back to his previous ministrations, his face ducking lower to lick along the tense muscle of your neck. He could taste the familiar body wash you used that drove him crazy, no matter how ordinary it may be. "Can I be inside you before I come?"
His whole body felt too hot and he couldn't help but buck up into you, desperate for more contact, more of your warmth and your scent and your sounds and your touch—but his plea had fallen on deaf ears. You raked your nails from his scalp down the back and side of his neck, not hard enough to hurt but with enough pressure to leave fine red lines that slowly dissipated in the dim lamplight. His breath hitched. "You're so good to me," he murmured, kissing every inch of skin he could reach, even pulling at the shirt to reveal more territory.
You could tell he was close from the second he opened his mouth to ramble, and you were determined to get him there. Out of the few things you would never be able to fully convince Leon of, the fact that him coming in his pants was hot was definitely one of them; but it didn't mean you wouldn't make it happen.
"Looking so damn perfect when I get home, f—fuck, making me feel so good..." You whined into his ear and his whole body went rigid, dick twitching in his pants. "Missed my pretty girl so fucking much while I was away, thought about this every night." A low moan rumbled from his chest and his hands migrated down your thighs, then up and back to your ass to knead the soft flesh. "Nothing measures up to you, your body was fucking—shit, made for me."
Leon shuddered under you, sucking at your pulse like it alone would fill his lungs with air, and helplessly jerked his hips into you. His moans cracked like thunder against you and his dick spasmed, shooting his load into his pants. You couldn't help but whimper at the feeling, humping him still.
"Fuck, love you so much."
His head fell back against the couch, displaying the rosy flush of his face and blissfully shut eyes despite the growing furrow between his brows from the overstimulation of your continued movements. You ran a palm across his forehead, down his cheek, and cupped his jaw to bring him in for a kiss that quickly led to your tongues slipping together lazily but not without excitement.
This was exactly the kind of homecoming Leon dreamed of when he was off in some shitty hotel room with only his own hand and his memory. And, with no intention to stop anytime soon, you made sure he knew this was only the beginning.
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Girl, here me out. [Game Of Thrones AU] Leon S. Kennedy x Stark!Female!Reader.
Leon was an oprhan who grew up in Westeros. As a child, when Leon was homeless and scavenging for food, and when he was on the verge of death, the reader who was on a visit with her father found him and took him under her wing. He rose through the ranks and became a sworn sword/cavalryman, Leon eventually realised that he loved her. But he didn't do anything about his feelings because he knew it was useless, when the Stark family slowly started dying over the series. He swore on his life to protect her, even going as far as to ask Sansa for permission to marry her.
heaven is not fit to house a love like you and i sworn sword! leon s kennedy x stark! female! reader
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★word count: 1.8k
★description: leon scott kennedy began life as an orphan - destined for pain and suffering upon the streets of king's landing. however, ned stark takes a kindness to him, and his life changes - for the better
★content: these are sfw headcanons, but if i were to flesh this out into a fic it may dip into nsfw territory <3
roe speaks: OKAY WAIT YOU'RE ONTO SOMETHIIIING okay so, I thought I'd give you some headcanons for now (so that I don't push aside every wip just to write this out bc this feels like it'd be a big, sexy, juicy fic) - let me know if you enjoy this, and I can consider fleshing it out into a big fic! i love leon so much ughhhhh i'm not even kidding when i say this ask came in at the PERFECT time (i was sat here twiddling my thumbs thinkin ab what fic to write tonight lol <333)
YOUNG LEON, orphaned so young that he had not the chance to even think of parents, let alone mourn them. Who would roam King's Landing amongst the other homeless orphans, scavenging from bakers who would turn a blind eye as he would snatch a stale bread.
YOUNG LEON, who envied the City Watch, scouring the streets in their gold capes as they upheld 'justice'. He would watch them, hidden and praying to the Seven that he too would grow to be like them.
YOUNG LEON, who - despite the warnings his fellow orphans give him - stumbles upon a garden he is most definitely not to be seen in. And whilst he is trying to find how he can safely leave said garden, lays eyes on the prettiest girl he could have ever thought of. His own age, perhaps slightly shorter than him, wearing one of those stuffy, billowing dresses that every noble pushed their daughters into. As the girl calls him over, he forgets his position for a moment - rushing over to play.
YOUNG LEON, who does not realise the danger he is in (or the danger he would be in, were it not for Ned Stark's ever kind gaze) until it is too late, begging for forgiveness from a disgruntled King Robert Baratheon until the girl tugs on Lord Stark's trouser, staring up at him with eyes he cannot deny. And as he sighs, attempting to deny her, she only becomes more and more adament, until he turns to his good friend:
"Forgive him, Rob. You know how they are, that young."
"Why should I, the King, forgive him?"
Oh dear. You hide behind your father's legs as sweet, innocent Leon begins to shake - unable to hide his fear. Ned's eyes glance down, before he kneels to his height. For a moment, Leon thinks this is it. This is his short life, come to a quick and swift end. Oh, the horrors! And he would never see you again…
Ned lifts his chin, forcing Leon to look up at him. But he is not cruel, nor does he cause pain - keeping his hands and voice gentle as he speaks to the frightened boy,
"None of that now, lad. If you are to come with us, then you'll have to man up - think you've got it in ya?"
Behind him, two guards stifle their laughter. The King sighs, shaking his head and Ned almost fears he won't speak, until a small voice speaks out, behind the tears,
"I have! I have, my Lord!"
"Good lad. Your name, then?"
"My name is Leon Scott Kennedy, my Lord."
"Well then, Leon. You'll be travelling with my daughter and I, back to Winterfell. Got any belongings or family to inform?"
As he shakes his head, part of Ned's heart drops. Perhaps taking him in was a better choice than leaving him to rot in the streets of King's Landing.
"We'll take him on, Rob."
"Your loss, Ned."
YOUNG LEON, who's first act after being taken in by Ned is to thank you profusely. In fact, he does not stop thanking you until you order him to, and then he remains silent until you begin teasing him. The two of you spend the journey playing together (as young children often do), and Ned holds a sweet smile whilst watching the two of you.
YOUNG LEON, who upon arriving in Winterfell is told he will be taught with the other boys, raised to become a guard for the family. He swears upon the Old Gods and the New, that he would put his very soul into training - until he could not anymore.
TEEN LEON, who spends every day training and perfecting himself (for you). From the moment he awakens, to the moment he sleeps - everything he does is training in some way or the other.
TEEN LEON, who knows the girls of Winterfell have their eyes on him. Though he is sure they would be good to him, he keeps himself faithful to his promise. It does not help that he does not think the one he has eyes for could ever consider him in such a manner. Instead, he represses his feelings - focusing first and foremost at his work.
TEEN LEON, who does not miss how you spend two hours every afternoon reading in a room with a window that just so happens to overlook the training yard. He thinks you're just looking out for him. He does not know that it happens to be because those two hours are the two where he trains shirtless. Even better are when it rains.
YOUNG ADULT LEON, who has not been able to let go of the crush that has now blossomed and bloomed into a deep, gut-wrenchingly painful love. The kind of love he prays for every night, plagues him. He prays that he will never act upon it - for your sake, of course! And, he prays that whatever noble Lord you are to be betrothed to will love you as he does. He knows better though - he knows no one could ever come quite close to how much he loves you, and the thought of that hurts him. What he does not know is how you lie in your chambers, tears streaming down your face as you think of him.
YOUNG ADULT LEON, who has just been appointed your sworn sword - to watch and to guard you with every last breath. He makes eye contact with you when he is sworn in, and does not miss the smile on your face. He briefly matches it, before returning to a look 'more suitable' for his role, as he stands beside you.
SWORN SWORD LEON, who follows you everywhere (well… almost everywhere. Anywhere he cannot follow behind, he waits outside patiently as you continue to ramble to him). He tries not to engage with your ramblings at first - claiming that he must focus on his task - until you turn to him with that same pouty face you convinced your father with.
SWORN SWORD LEON, who - despite swearing he could care less - is very much invested in your gossip. Who wore what dress, who sneaks behind their Lord Father and Lady Mothers' backs to rendezvous with the stable boy in the middle of the night - he remembers it all.
SWORN SWORD LEON, who cannot maintain professional boundaries, no matter how hard he tries.
SWORN SWORD LEON, who really, really tries to ignore his true feelings.
SWORN SWORD LEON, who comes with you as you leave Winterfell to go to King's Landing with your father and two sisters - despite the horrible pit in his stomach that tells him to pull you aside and keep you far, far away.
SWORN SWORD LEON,
who - during the chaos of everything, stays by your side no matter what. In trying to return you to Winterfell, he does not leave you. Not even in your most personal of moments. When you ask him for space, he vehemently refuses,
"I swore an oath, my Lady."
"An oath?"
"To you. I am sworn to you."
"I can relieve myself in peace, Leon."
"I will turn away, but I will not leave."
"Leon…"
"…"
"…fine! Stubborn as ever.."
SWORN SWORD LEON, who when you finally - after quite literally surviving the trip to Hell and back - return to Winterfell still will not leave your side. And that is when Sansa sees it. That look in his eyes. She shakes her head, gesturing to Jon Snow in both of your directions. The two share a knowing look.
SWORN SWORD LEON, who is approached one day .as you are sewing in another room, by Sansa. His back straightens as she shakes her head, calling him over with two fingers. For a moment, he fears he has overstepped a boundary, or done something of offence. For a moment, he feels exactly like YOUNG LEON from all those years ago - barely able to make a sound.
"I see how you look at my sister."
"My Lady?"
"Do you think we cannot see?"
"No, no, you misunderstand! I do not look in such a manner, my Lady-"
"Relax, Ser."
"…"
"My sister probably looks at you similarly. I.. have an idea."
"…"
"Would you marry her? Not that she cannot take a suitor - believe me, she has many proposals, still waiting. But I do not trust them, not like I know I can trust you."
"My Lady, are you sure?"
"More sure of this than anything, Ser Kennedy. You love her, and she loves you. And I have seen how you have devoted yourself to her - no other man will devote themselves in quite a way like you do. So..?"
"What else can I say, but yes?"
SWORN SWORD LEON, who did not realise how difficult it would be to stay away from you as the two of you stayed separate to one another in the days leading up to your wedding. He returns to old habits - namely training in the yard to keep himself busy. Once again, he is oblivious to you watching him.
SWORN SWORD LEON, who feels uncomfortable in the clothes he wears on the big day. Who keeps tugging at his neck, feeling constricted. The only thing that keeps him sane is the fact that he is doing this for you.
SOON TO BE HUSBAND LEON, who cannot help but let his lips part like that when you walk towards him, ethereal in your Northern finery. The way your hair has been pinned back, and you step just like an angel. For a moment, he concerns himself with ideas of not being good enough for you, until you look at him with that same sweet smile that has him swooning.
DEVOTED HUSBAND LEON, who carries you all the way to your chambers, refusing to spend a moment away from you. Both your giggles and his carry through Winterfell for all to hear as you spend the night tangled in each other's arms. In the morning, the sight of your head resting on his chest has his heart melting.
DEVOTED HUSBAND LEON, who swears to love you with every breath - in this life, and every other life to come.
DEVOTED HUSBAND LEON, who sees YOUNG LEON in his dreams sometimes and tells him of how he finally made their dream come true. YOUNG LEON does not understand at first, but when he realises it's you, it all clicks.
DEVOTED HUSBAND LEON, who loves his sweet Stark wife with his whole heart and soul.
leon tags (fill out the taglist form here to be added on!) :
@whimsyblossom , @cloudyspiregrimoire , @firingstars . @tamyyyy2005
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