How do you think every era of Leon would react to being deep throated? 🤔 pls be as descriptive as possible
game eras Leon x deep throating
tags: smut, oral (reader giving duh, implied receiving), she/her pronouns for reader, implied sex, implied oral fixations for reader and leon because that only feels natural here
a/n: sex doesn’t always have to include penetration, a psa in fanfic format <3 shoutout to all the throat goats and the throat goats in training
we all know the rookie is a giving lover. he can spend hours with his head fixed between your thighs, devoted to the cause of making you cum on his lips... but although he rarely gives you a chance to focus the foreplay on him, you often feel equally as giving, too
he's not inexperienced per se, but he's realized a huge perk of a relationship becoming long term: you're learning each other so well, reaping the full benefits of each other's gained experience with each other, and each time you fuck it just gets better and better. every time, he thinks "it can't possibly get better than this" only for his mind to be blown all over again
so when he comes over to your place to find you in a particularly insistent mood, sinking between his knees with a cheshire grin, licking a stripe up his denim-covered bulge, he knows he's in for it.
what he doesn't know is that you want to try out a new trick on him. all he knows is that your throat keeps fluttering around him like you're trying to swallow him whole (because you are)
you tilt your chin just so and relax your throat, and then it happens. it's sudden for you both. a surge of adrenaline courses through you as he slips past the barrier. his eyes are bulging out of his skull at the shock of it, brain barely working enough to piece together what he's feeling, because he didn't know such a feeling was possible
"oh fuck, holyfuckingshit baby, you're- oh my god, ohmygodohmygod you're, y-you're—"
it only lasts a few seconds before you pull off of him completely with a crude sound, coughing a little as you look up at him with twinkling eyes at your success. he's looking at you like you just murdered someone he's so shocked. he doesn't know what to say, he's just heaving speechlessly as he looks down at your puffy wet lips as his cock bobs in the air, covered in thick globs of saliva
but he doesn't need to talk and doesn't get a chance because you're back on him before he can get his bearings, eager to do it again. his head flies back and he tries really hard not to buck into your face as you deepthroat him intermittently, holding him there just a little longer every time between gags and gasps for air. he's got a death grip on the side of your head just to hold onto something before he starts pawing at the couch cushions like they could save him, as if he even wants to be saved from this
his brain is totally fried and he's babbling like an idiot, trying to warn you about what you're doing to him
"wait, you're gonna - if you don't— you're gonna make me-fuck, fuck, ohhhmy god baby..."
you tell him that that’s exactly what you want by taking him in your throat again, pushing his length down all the way to the hilt. this time you manage to shallowly bob your throat around him, and he completely fucking shatters
"I'm—oh fuck ohhfuck ohmyfuckinggod I'm gonna—please, please, please, pleaseyouregonnamakemecum shitshitshit imgonnacumohmyfuckinggodbaby I'm—"
you pull of just in time, and you would've normally kept your lips around him to swallow his load, but you already seriously needed the air. you keep pumping him in your hand on instinct so he doesn't lose his orgasm, and he cries out as he cums hard all over your face. you flinch in surprise before you close your eyes and stick your tongue out to collect it, catching your breath as he convulses so hard he might levitate off the couch.
you're sporting a drunken smile of accomplishment as he comes down, and you bite your lip as you meet his eyes. his lips are parted into an awestruck O shape as he looks at you, perched between his thighs with thick ropes of cum on your cheeks and remnants of it on your swollen lips like a perverse sort of lip gloss. he doesn't care about the mess, like, at all when enough blood returns to his brain to pull you feverishly onto his lap to kiss you.
"where the hell did you learn to do that??" he asks between kisses down your body, already turning you around to lay on your back, fumbling with your pants like he needs it to live.
you grab his shirt from the floor to wipe off your face as you shrug, "just now I guess?"
he pauses to look up at you like you just said you invented electricity like it was no big deal. he shakes his head in awe before yanking down your underwear. "you're insane," is the last thing he says before he fixes his mouth on your cunt for the next full hour
he’s in his facefucking era. those ^ pics live in my head rent free imagining that.
but facefucking is... less than conducive to deepthroating. but that makes it all the more of a treat when you get the angle juuust right and he's suddenly bulging in your neck.
it always catches him by surprise, makes his body tense up and his hips stutter as he holds your face there, stilling so he doesn't hurt you. he chokes hard at the sudden feeling (as if he's the one who should be choking here) and makes all sorts of pitiful sounds two pitches higher than the primal grunts he'd been making before.
you dig your fingernails into his skin and look up through wet lashes, and the sight alone makes your toes curl. his eyebrows are pinched up and crinkling his forehead, his lips are parted in a sinful expression, his abs and pecs and arms are flexed tight.
in a few moments, you pull off to swallow the excess saliva that's accrued in your throat and for a quick gasp of air, and it's enough time for both of you to get your bearings before you dive back in. he keeps his big hands firmly on your head as he pins you between him and the wall, but he's not forceful in the slightest; he knows he just has to let you do your magic, so he's focused on encouraging you.
but although he's restrained and merciful so as not to hurt you or make you gag, that primal & dominant lust is still present in his gruff tone of voice. and as your throat adapts and you pull his hips in to let him know he can start thrusting a bit, his encouragement slowly transitions into pure debauchery
"oh shit that— that feels s'good, doing so good for me, baby"
"can ya keep going…? yeah?"
"a little more, sweetheart, there y'go. oh fuck yeah"
"that's right, let me fuck your goddamn throat. take it, take it"
and once again, he doesn't know that you have a new trick to try.
it's a bit daunting. you're pretty scared you might actually throw up on him. but it's leon— you know he'd take the very best care of you if you did, make sure you didn't feel bad about it or embarrassed, and that's enough to let you be brave. because the payoff if it works...?
as soon as you know he's close, you steel your endurance and fix all the way down on him. pressing in so he can't slip out of your throat if he jerks too hard, the short hairs of his navel tickling your nose, tears streaming down your face as you hold, hold, hold. he starts warning you like he always does, and he's just shy of freaking out as you refuse to pull away
"baby, wait, I— m'gonna cum, I'm—you gotta, ahh, gotta get off before I— oh god I can't, m'gonna f-fucking cum, holy—"
your eyes go wide as he spills directly down your throat.
he's whining loud as he all but thrashes into you although he's still trying to keep still (just failing miserably), and still trying to pull you off as his knees buckle with the force of his orgasm. and then he realizes what you’re doing and it’s like he cums even harder while mid-orgasm
he’s still reeling when you finally pull off, a mix of your drool and his cum spilling down the corners of your mouth. you suck the last drops out of him before leaning your head against his thigh and looking up. he’s looking down at you with a crazed look in his eyes, hair askew and face in total shock
when he comes down enough to speak, his voice is a rough and ragged whisper like you just sucked the soul out of him (because you did)
“you’re gonna kill me one of these days”
you bite your lip and smile, giggling as he scoops you up and takes you straight to bed. he lays you down like he knows exactly what a feat it was, how much strain it took to pull it off, and how you did it all just for his pleasure
“you lay back and rest while I take care of you, sweetheart”
then under his breath as he settles between your thighs, like he’s talking to himself more than you
“you’re so fucking perfect for me”
in this era, sex is more sensual, more tempered in speed. he’s consciously focused on the enjoyment during instead of the end. he’s more grounded, and has developed an air of calm darkness, like low, heavy clouds in the tranquility before a thunderstorm.
he’s gruff, but not rough. commanding, but not forceful. it’s intoxicating. it’d be like making love if it weren’t for how intense he is.
your shared bed is the most common place you fuck now, because that’s where he can best take his sweet time with you. smelling his skin in the dim light, you’re pulled into a heady and thick state of mind where all you want to do is take your time with him, too
lying on your side across the luxe bamboo sheets, your beings are fused together where his cock delves in and out of the depths of your throat. he pets your hair softly while he curls his hips back and forth, his voice low and resonant in the room
“that’s it, beautiful, take me all the way down”
“feels so goddamn good burying my cock in your mouth”
you arch into nothing and squeeze your thighs together, cockdrunk just from blowing him. he notices, of course— an attentive lover even when you’re focused on him, he always notices
“look at you… like it when I stuff your pretty little throat?”
he’ll reach down to rest a hand around your neck just to feel himself bulge there, and that’s always what does him in. his eyes roll back as he hisses, his hands hold you more firmly, and it makes his thrusts stutter ever so slightly, the first sign that he’s getting close
“good girl, good fucking girl"
you alternate between laving your tongue against every inch of his cock and swallowing him down again, bobbing your head wet and slow, speeding up slightly along with his increasingly ragged breath— but then he’ll pull off before he does to shove himself inside your center to feel the evidence of how much you love blowing him, hear it in how your moans tell him you’re already close, circling his fingers around the most sensitive spot between your legs to bring you there
“such a cockwhore for me, look how much you’re dripping”
he always intends for a blowjob to just be foreplay, which it more than often is. but oftentimes, after you’ve spent an hour or so riding him into the headboard or him fucking you into the mattress, you’ll push him away to clamor until you’re blowing him sloppily, with purpose, sucking your cum off his cock until he’s grunting and gritting through his teeth
“fuck, that’s right. you tryna make me cum like this…?”
your little hum and nod while you bob your head is a yes he’s well acquainted with. he’s quick to meet it with a darkened expression and the tiniest smirk on his face
“where you want it, babygirl? your throat or your tongue?”
the way you grip him tight to force his cock all the way down your throat is an answer he’s familiar with, too
“fucking— shit— such a dirty girl for me…”
you’re making the most wretched noises around him as you make him thrust into your throat, and the vibrations quickly make him lose it, getting rough as he digs his heels into the mattress to put more force into it, abusing your esophagus because your energy screams that you want him to
you gulp and sputter when you feel it , eyes rolling back with satisfaction as it shoots down your sore throat
“oh, fuck, fuck, fuck— ohhh baby, yes, ahh…”
he’s settled into all versions of himself, and he’s settled into you, too. you know each other like the back of your hands. he knows what you can take, when to be rough and when to be slow, when to focus on you and when to let you focus on him
he doesn’t have to be greedy for you (although there’s plenty of times he still is)— but you’ve spent your whole lives together, and he’s secure in the fact that you’ll spend the rest of them together, too
that results in every time you fuck being pure indulgence. and you both know he’s earned the right to indulge, especially since he returns from work feeling the physical toll a lot more than he used to. you like taking care of him; cooking him warm meals to come home to, putting his towel and his clothes in the dryer while he showers so he feels pampered when he gets out— and there’s something really fucking hot about spoiling a weary man with your mouth.
it drives you crazy, the way his sweetness mixes with perversion when you’re laying on the couch, him with his back against the armrest and you belly-down between his legs. you start slow, not depriving him of any of the build up, especially since it takes a little longer for him to get fully hard. you actually kinda love that, though, because you get to feel him throb to full hardness within the depths of your throat
he loves it too, the feeling of his half hard cock slipping more easily in and out of your throat, your soft mouth filling with slobber, boosting his ego as you gag on a fraction of his girth.
if you’re really taking your time, he isn’t shy to ask for it. he’ll push your head down until he’s pressed into the barrier of the back of your mouth, holding your hair back as he starts face fucking you slowly
“gonna let me push my cock down your throat, gorgeous?”
plus, it helps your throat adjust to him. he’s big enough that your eyes water before he’s even fully erect, and he’ll wipe the tears off your cheek with a thumb as he marvels at you working between his legs, but pays no mind to the drool dripping down his balls
“so messy…” he’ll grumble absentmindedly
his vocalizations are more spaced out; he can actually form full sentences while you deepthroat him now. each thought is deliberate, burning sweet in your ears like whiskey, and he drawls them out like he's drunk on you
"good god, your mouth feels amazing, sweetheart"
"little more, thaaat's it, there you go..."
"keep it there, let me..." he starts thrusting fully "...yeah, let me fuck your throat, just like that”
when he cums, it still wrecks him as intensely as ever, but he can manage to talk through that now, too
“shit, that’s it, swallow my fucking cum”
he’ll accentuate his words with each short, pulsing thrust that comes with each rope he spills into you
“take every, goddamn, drop”
and afterwards, he’s tired— but it’s much more peaceful and warm, turning the exhaustion of work into a comforting heavy feeling in his body and mind. he’ll always fight off napping for you, asking if he should whisk you off to return the favor, but you’re more likely to pull his boxers up and cuddle into his lap.
he’ll sigh and mutter “I’ll get you back later” when you show no signs of getting up, your way of insisting that he can nap if he wants to— you’re turned on, yeah, but it doesn’t bother you. you’re more than content to fall asleep together while he pets your head, and you know the word “later” is a promise he always makes good on. you’re just not in any rush. you have the whole rest of your lives together, after all ♡
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