𐔌՞ ܸ.ˬ.ܸ՞𐦯

જ⁀➴ rules . . . I won’t write dark themes, abusive relationships or any kind of bigotry etc, don’t copy my writing to AI (yucky)

જ⁀➴ divider creds . . . @//cursed-carmine & @//dividers-are-us

જ⁀➴ Masterlist under the cut!!…♡

ty in advance ! have a good day / night !

˗ˏˋ ꒰ summary ꒱ ˎˊ˗ about re4r!Leon Kennedy eating you out for the first time 18+ so sorry this took ages, enjoy :3

Leon has been aching to go down on you since you both started getting a little more hot and heavy in the bedroom, but each time you guide him away with a flirty giggle or a breathless sigh of his name, whilst he doesn’t mind the way your hands gravitate to tug on his boxers, he really… really, really just wants to eat your pussy.

The TV drones on in the background, some movie you’re both no longer paying attention to because Leon has you pressed back into the softness of the couch with his tongue in your mouth and his hips flushed against yours.

“You’re so hot.” He pants hotly into the kiss, already half-hard in his sweats as he drags his mouth along the curve of your jaw. “Can I go down on you, baby?” He asks so sweetly, lips brushing over the shell of your ear.

He feels you tense up uncomfortably underneath him, and he pushes himself back, enough to give you space.

“Hey, hey…” he trails off, letting you sit up a little as he rubs his hand over your thigh soothingly. “You okay? I’m sorry, baby, I didn’t-”

“-No, it’s not- don’t apologise, I just-” you struggle to put your words together, fighting against the sudden barrage of emotions that fog your brain up and leave you all tongue-tied, but Leon, the ever-patient man, doesn’t rush you.

“Take your time, gorgeous, I’m not going anywhere.”

So you take a deep breath and wet your lips. “No one’s ever gone down on me, m’just nervous, I guess.”

˗ˏˋ ꒰ summary ꒱ ˎˊ˗ RE2R!Leon Kennedy coming home after a long day at the station to his girl in a pretty lingerie set ᝰ.ᐟ 18+ he’s such a cutie oml

Leon is finally home after twelve brutal hours. The familiar sound of his boots thudding against the hardwood floor echoes through the apartment, sending an excited shiver down your spine as he makes his way through the halls, beelining towards the bedroom like a man on a mission.

“Baby, you would not believe the chase Kevin had me on today.” He groans seconds away from going on a full-blown tangent, then his breath catches in his throat, and he stumbles in the doorway— his eyes widening at the sight of you.

You’re standing there in front of the mirror, dripped in the orangey afternoon glow and pretty lace, looking absolutely angelic, and Leon forgets how to breathe for a good ten seconds because god he feels like one lucky man right now.

“A chase?” You ask sweetly, and he nods dumbly, mouth suddenly very dry.

He doesn’t speak; he can’t; all he manages is a small noise caught between a moan and a ragged sigh as he walks over to you, still wearing his police vest and heavy utility belt.

“It doesn’t even matter.” He breathes out, baby blues dragging along the shape of your perfect body. “You look— I mean— holy shit, you’re gorgeous, so pretty, baby.”

“Yeah?”

You blink up at him coyly as if you weren’t fishing for that exact compliment when you slipped into the lingerie set. You give him a shy little twirl, and he leans back to check you out shamelessly with a boyish sort of grin, his cheeks all pink. Then he’s suddenly fumbling with his gun holster along with his belt, dropping them onto the dresser with a thud so he could get his hands on you without his uniform in the way.

“Yeah, yeah, baby, such an angel. Can I… please?” He trails off, hands hovering over your hips, practically vibrating with excitement.

You nod once, and he’s instantly all over you, his warm palms dragging over the swell of your hips and across the curve of your plush ass, pulling you flushed against him with a groan— the sound low, rich with appreciation and very much happy, like a puppy who's been given his favourite treat.

“Leon-” you giggle, all giddy from his affection, fingers curling lightly into his biceps as he squeezes your ass, playfully toying with the thin fabric of your panties.

“Sorry, sorry. I can’t help it, baby.” He murmurs lamely, running his fingertips up your spine to play with the lace straps of your cute little bralet that cups your breasts perfectly. “Got the prettiest girl in all of Racoon City.”

You huff in fond amusement, hands cupping his face as he leans down to kiss your exposed collarbones, each smack of his lips sloppier than the last.

“Just Racoon City?” The question comes out teasingly, and he pulls back, face all flushed.

“No, the whole wide world, baby… hell, the universe.” He corrects himself with that charming smile, eyes fixed up onto you as he slowly lowers himself down onto his knees. “Wanna kiss you everywhere,” he confesses, already kissing down your soft tummy as his hands fall to squeeze your hips. “So damn pretty n’all mine, you make me feel so damn lucky.”

Without warning, he lifts your leg over his shoulder, brushing a feather-light kiss to the cute little bow on the hem of your panties, then another over the lace that covers your pussy. You gasp, hands grasping at his shoulders to try and stabilise yourself as he darts his tongue out to taste you through the flimsy piece of lingerie.

“Leon, you can’t go down on me here, m’gonna fall.” you huff quietly, a little amused, and he simply blinks up at you with those blue eyes of his.

“You won’t fall, won’t let you.” He promises, tilting his head to press a wet kiss to your inner thigh, “Wanna taste you through these pretty panties, then again without ‘em, can I do that, baby? Please? Had such a long day at work too, please?”

And how could you say no when he’s on his knees, begging for you?

• re9!Leon Kennedy x reader

˗ˏˋ ꒰ summary ꒱ ˎˊ˗ doing pottery with Leon during your little gateway together 18+ no smut just a little suggestive

"Baby, you're wrestling with the clay, relax." Leon’s voice breaks the silence from behind you, a grin playing at his lips like he knows all about the art of pottery. He planned this little getaway a while back, and finally after months of him being away here you are, a private cabin tucked away from society and surrounded by nothing but trees and mountains— the WiFi didn’t even work properly and honestly? It was really nice.

You huff, twisting slightly to look up at him with a helpless pout that screams, help me, dried clay smudged over your right cheek, and there's somehow a patch above your eyebrow.

It's endearing, really, and he can't help but chuckle at you.

"Don't just laugh at me… help, please."

His smile broadens, charmingly so, and he moves without hesitation to sit behind you, now sandwiched between his broad chest and the pottery wheel. You're instantly embraced by his warmth and the smell of his cologne, something leathery... rich and so undeniably him.

"You gotta ease into you... slowly, so you're guiding it, not forcing it." He says in that low timber that makes your skin tingle, his breath fanning against your neck, stubble ghosting over your shoulder.

His hands engulf yours, helping you move the wet clay into a more manageable shape than whatever lumpy monstrosity you were working with before. His fingers slip between your own, his palms framing the back of your hands warmly and you watch how effortlessly he guides your hands against the dirt— slow and precise, like he's got years of practice under his belt, it’s the way he handles all things when it comes to you, with this methodical precision. It was unfairly hot.

"Since when did you so good at this?" You murmur, watching his hands in slight awe.

Leon all but grins, dropping a light kiss to the curve of your shoulder, then another to the side of your neck, lingering on purpose. "What, with my fingers?" his voice drops to something more teasing as he tilts his head to brush his grinning lips to your jaw.

You roll your eyes and slump back against his chest, craning your head to catch his gaze and shooting him a knowing look, one brow slightly quirked. "Well, no. I know how good you are with your fingers, you tease."

Leon hums, the sound vibrating against your back. He ducks his head to drop a kiss to your temple whilst his hands continue to help yours mould the clay into something that could almost pass as a bowl if only it wasn’t getting progressively more and more lopsided because, if we're being honest, neither of you are really paying attention to the clay anymore.

"Cheeky," he chuckles, stubble tickling your cheek as he presses another kiss there, like he just couldn’t help himself. "No, I watched a video on TikTok," he confesses, sounding almost proud of himself, as he nudges his nose against your jaw to coax your attention back to the wheel, "Eyes on the clay, gorgeous."

hehehe yes, yes you definitely can <3 18+ sorry its a little all over the place I’m sick lol x

There isn’t much Leon wouldn’t do for you, so when you confess to him just how much you’ve been missing him whilst he’s away at work and how porn just doesn’t do it for you anymore… well, it’s him that suggests making a little home video together, and you’re more than willing.

He starts off slowly, kissing your neck as he crowds you back against the pillows, his hands sliding under the hem of your shirt, caressing over your ribs and up to your breasts until you’re arching up into him.

“You sure you’re up for it, yeah?”

you nod almost instantly with a breathy, “uh-huh,” your lips parting as his tongue slowly licks into your mouth, the kiss tapering off into wet pecks along your jaw before he pulls back to grab your phone with a glint in his blue eyes.

Before you know it, he’s got you stripped and all spread open on your shared bed with your phone balanced against the pillows catching the way he plays with your slick pussy— his thick fingers spreading your plump folds open for the camera, running over your sticky labia.

“Aww, look at you, baby,” he coos roughly, teasing your achy clit in slow little circles, “such a messy pussy, dribbling everywhere, soaking the sheets already, and I haven’t even made you cum yet.”

You whimper pathetically, hips bucking up into his hand, and he tuts in disapproval, pressing you back down with his free hand to keep your ass flat against the mattress.

“please Leon-” your words come out all choked, hands curling into the bedsheets tightly as his fingers tease your fluttering entrance.

“I know. I’ve got you, baby.” He drawls out, rubbing your clit a little firmer, faster, just to hear you whimper his name out breathlessly. Then, finally, he pushes two thick fingers into your tight hole— letting the camera capture the way your pussy swallows his digits up with a fifthly squelch right down to his knuckles.

Leon is also a big fan of making you face the camera when he’s fucking you into the mattress; he wants you to remember the ache of him filling you up when you’re alone in bed watching these little videos with your hand between your thighs, missing him.

“Look at the camera, look at how good I’m fucking my girl.” His fingers curl around your jaw, coaxing your head to the side so you can look at yourself in the reflection of your phone's camera, completely ruined, as his fat cock stretches you out so deliciously— his tip nudging that gummy spot deep inside you that makes you dizzy.

Your breath catches, a whiny moan falls from your kiss-bitten lips. He takes the opportunity to press his ring and middle fingers into your mouth as his other hand pushes one knee up towards your chest, his thrusts deepening, the wet slap of skin against skin picked up by the crappy phone mic along with the way you gurgle obscenely around his fingers as you gush around his length whilst he cums inside you in thick, hot spurts.

And obviously he’s gotta show the camera the prefect mess you’ve made together, because god forbid you forget whilst he’s away! He kneels between your legs, phone tilted down to capture the way he runs the fat head of his cock through your sticky folds, collecting his cum on his leaky tip and pushing it back inside your pussy with a rough chuckle when your thighs get all twitchy, and you whine about it being too much.

“Fuck— think you got enough material, baby?” He asks all breathlessly, dropping the phone onto the bed before collapsing beside you on the bed with a grin, looking far too proud of himself.

💭 thinking about re9!Leon Kennedy threatening to shave his happy trail 18+ I’m insane about him oml

He’s standing at the foot of your queen-sized bed in a pair of boxers, having just gotten out of the shower. “I think I might need to shave this off soon, baby.” Your head instantly snaps up at his direction, dropping the book you were reading onto the mattress beside you.

You watch in silent horror as he runs his hand over the dark hairs that dust across his chest and down towards that delicious happy trail of his, his brows all pinched together in contemplation, even the thought of him considering it sent you into panic.

“Absolutely not. No,” you tell him, shaking your head in vehement protest as you shuffle to the end of the bed on your knees.

His eyes catch yours, and his frown softens into a grin. “Look at it, baby, it’s getting out of control down here.” He huffs in amusement, fingers still grazing over the coarse hairs, heart melting a little at the way your lips purse out into a frowny pout.

“It’s sexy, Leon.” You tell him, brushing his hands away from the sacred trail with a huff. “You’re not allowed to just shave it all off.” your fingers now toy with the waistband of his boxers.

He chuckles, cupping your cheeks between his big palms and tilting your head back. “Not allowed? What you gonna stop me?”

“No… but if you shave it off I-I-” you pause, wracking your sleepy brain for a suitable punishment, “I won’t have sex with you until it grows back.”

“Oh, fighting talk, huh? You wouldn’t last a week, babe.” He replies smugly, knowing for a fact that he’s not wrong. You barely survive when he gets pulled away by his ever-demanding job, always relying on those special homemade videos you both made.

You groan in frustration, and he coos down at you, running the pad of his thumb over your pouty lips to try and coax you to smile— but it doesn’t work, you seem genuinely heartbroken, and he would be lying if he said it didn’t amuse him just a little.

“C’mon… don’t look at me like that, baby, it needs taming.”

You don’t answer, but your expression turns determined. You lean forward, looking up at him through your lashes as you press a wet kiss right over the hard ridge of his abs. His fingers slip into your hair, tightening a little at the roots, your name catching in his chest as you drag your tongue back up his firm stomach.

“Oh Fuck-” his voice comes out hoarse, ragged.

“Promise me you won’t get rid of it.” You tell him, dragging sloppy, open-mouthed kisses down to his V-line, and when he doesn’t answer right away, you pull back, scowling at him. “Promise me, Leon.”

“Yeah, yeah, I promise… I’ll keep it, s’all yours gorgeous.” He breathes out heavily from above you, dick already hard and twitching to life against the thin fabric of his boxers.

“Good.” You beam up him happily, tugging the waistband of his boxers down a little further with a lick of your lips.

જ⁀➴ Resident Evil Masterlist જ⁀➴ General Masterlist

💭 thinking about dad!Leon during one of those many sleepless nights with your daughter ᝰ.ᐟ

It’s late, and your daughter is downright refusing to sleep, so here you are— lying in bed with a rowdy baby who is very opinionated on the topic of early nights, blabbering nonsense right into your ear whilst Leon tries his best to coax her to lie down

“C’mon… leave your mom alone, you rascal.” He sighs, gently prying the little girl from where she’s climbing all over you.

She has absolutely none of it, letting out a fussy cry and kicking her legs out in protest as she shakes her head a firm no— already begging to blubber, bottom lip jutting out and everything.

“Mama isn’t a jungle gym. It’s eleven o’clock at night, do you understand that?” Leon continues to argue with her as if she could understand a single word coming out of his mouth, and she all but gurgles down at her father in return with a huff and puff. You can’t help but giggle into the pillows— god, she was going to be a nightmare by the time she learns how to walk and talk.

“We shouldn’t have given her that ice cream before bed.” You sigh, definitely living in regret, watching as your daughter now clambers all over Leon with a slight wobble to her tiny legs— still getting used to using those muscles.

“We live, and we learn.” He replies, bringing his hand to rest against his daughter's back so she doesn’t topple over as she climbs up onto his chest with a gleeful squeal.

Her tiny hands press against Leon’s stubbly cheeks, and he lies there, eyes closed, letting her smush at his face as if he were made out of Play-Doh. You shuffle closer until you’re pressed against his side, your head resting against his shoulder as he brings his free arm to wrap around you tightly— caressing the length of your back.

“What’re you doing to your poor dad, hmm?” You whisper up at her, smiling when her round, curious eyes blink down at you— blue just like her daddy’s.

“Giving me a very bad massage.” His response comes out deadpanned.

She giggles, big eyes flickering back to Leon as he pretends to nibble at her fingers, which sends her into another fit of giddy laughter— her little feet kicking at his sides and her fingers poking at his face to try and get him to do it again. You won’t actually fall asleep until three in the morning because your daughter clearly thinks it’s playtime, but maybe that’s the joy of being a parent, these late nights together.

જ⁀➴ Resident Evil Masterlist જ⁀➴ General Masterlist

💭 thinking about waking up next to re9!Leon who’s a little needy ᝰ.ᐟ 18+ it’s gets a little slutty at the end my bad

The bedroom is cool, quiet, save for your soft breaths and the faint chittering of birds outside— it’s peaceful, and Leon, being the first to wake as always, lies there to simply bask in it. He’s pressed right up behind you, one arm tucked under your pillow and the other draped around your waist, his hand tucked under your sleep-shirt because this man lives for skin-on-skin contact.

He’s so in-tune with your body, he could feel you start to wake even before those eyes of yours begin to flutter open, and he takes that as an invitation to snuggle in closer, pressing a smiley-kiss to your shoulder as you begin to stir.

“There she is… sleeping beauty,” He hums affectionately from behind you, his voice all rough with sleep, chest rumbling against your back, dragging you to the land of the living.

“Mfm… s’too early,” your sleepy murmur gets a chuckle from him, the sound muffled into your skin.

“It’s almost twelve pm, baby.”

You whine in disagreement, “But it’s a Sunday and we’ve got nothing to do.”

He shushes you, hand slides from under your shirt to caress the curve of your hip soothingly as his mouth moves across your shoulder carefully in feather-light pecks.

“M’not saying you gotta get up yet, baby. Come on, turn around, let me see you.”

💭 thinking about subby!aerion whose a little bit of a brat for his wife 18+ ooh I need him bad bad

Petulant, that’s what your husband was. A spoiled princeling with no manners and that burning Targaryen pride that made him feel as if the world owed him everything at the flick of his royal hand.

That was until he found himself beneath you, on your shared bed, with your delicate fingers stuffed into his mouth and his cock buried deep inside your wet cunt— your hips painfully still on top of his own.

“Ple-ease!— please move, please-” he chokes out desperately, words muffled around your digits that were now slick with his saliva, your fingertips pressing down on his warm tongue, a punishment for his attitude he has no doubt, and yet he sucks on them eagerly— welcoming them deeper.

His hands grasp at the fat of your hips, pulling and pushing, in a feeble attempt to get you to move, but you’re oh so stubborn… and gods does he love it.

“Who do you belong to?” It’s the third time you’ve asked, and each time he has refused to answer… then you give a deliberately slow roll of your hips, and he whines loudly— his back arching beautifully and his cock twitching inside you.

Then you still again, and it utterly breaks him.

• Daeron Targaryen x Wife!Reader

જ⁀➴ There are rare moments when Daeron isn’t drowning himself in wine, where he is no prince, but rather just a man, a husband, a father ᝰ.ᐟ

Daeron knew deep down that he wasn’t the ideal husband— he was a drunk, always so sombre, distant, rarely slept, and when he did, he woke screaming. He knows he’s a broken man, cursed some might even say.

But then came along you with your endless patience, never demanding more than he could give, always so soft spoken, even in your disappointment and frustration. It bewildered him that you were so adamant on holding him close to your heart despite all his sharp edges, so he tried to meet you halfway; it was the least you deserved.

It wasn’t perfect by any means, but it was real, sacred, and meant more to him than any title could ever.

Then you gave him a daughter, and his whole world had completely shattered when you placed the baby girl in his arms, his girl, with your eyes and his white hair.

Sweet, sensitive Naerys who looked at him like he hung the stars in the sky. Gods, the girl, now three, brought him to his knees effortlessly, made him fight harder to be the father she deserved, the husband you could be proud of.

There were days, however, where he thought about how much easier it would be to just let himself sink back into the embrace of his vices— then the gods would grace him with these private moments of precious time, such as this one…

💭 thinking about Husband!Aerion who likes biting his pretty wife a little too much ᝰ.ᐟ nasty thots 18+

When Aerion first bit you, you had hit him out of pure reflex, right across the cheek, hard enough for his skin to pinken and sting under your palm, enough for him to gasp and pull away from your mouth with a glare.

“You hit me. You hit your husband. Your king,” he had all but gawped, staring dead into your eyes.

“Yes, because you bit me, Aerion. You drew blood.”

Your retort had only brought a smirk to his face, smug and sardonic and when he reached a hand up to your mouth, it was not to soothe but rather to press his thumb against your bottom lip and smear the blood across your chin in pure awe.

Since then, he’s been a terror, like an untrained puppy who nips and chews on anything it can get its canines on.

When you try to fix his hair in the mornings, he tries to nip at your fingers. When he’s bored, he’ll lean in and bite your cheek and jaw without a care who’s watching and in bed? Well, he’ll sink his teeth into every beautiful inch of you.

You’d try to push him away when his teeth dig into your skin a little too hard, your hands squishing up against his face, but it’s a fruitless endeavour because gods, he’s relentless— his hands pinning yours into the pillows, his hips pressed firmly to your own, grinding against you clumsily.

“Don’t push me away,” he whines, the petulant creature he was, his breath hot against your jaw, “just one more, right here… my sweet wife, for me? Please?”

His favourite place to bite is your thighs and hips. He loves to see his teeth marks as you ride him, loves pressing his fingers against the bruises when you're on top of him, just to watch your rhythm falter and feel your cunt clench around his cock.

It’s a sick fascination he gets, watching the way your soft skin moulds under the shape of his teeth. He’s obsessed with the marks he leaves, the bruises and aches that bloom after— he adores watching you wince when you sit down or walk the halls, the hitch of your breath and the subtle furrow of your brows.

What thrills him the most, though, is when you snap, pulling him back by his white hair or grabbing his jaw tightly to wring him away from you— his lips all kiss-bitten and shiny, pupils blown. Nothing turns him on more than watching you lose your patience that you normally hide behind politeness.

“You’re a leech, Aerion.” You seethe, and your stern tone makes him dizzy, the sick man he was. “I told you not near my neck… as if people don’t already talk enough.”

“If you think I care about what people say… then you’ve sorely misjudged me, wife,” he boasts pridefully, turning his head to nip at the inside of your wrist. “Besides, was it not you who told me to pay no mind to the opinions of those whom are beneath us?”

The smugness of him irks you in ways you’ve never thought possible. He’s an untameable beast, and when he ducks his head to kiss at your neck, all slow and open-mouthed, almost apologetic if it were anyone but him, you know he’s got you right where he wants. “I’d eat you alive if I could, my sweet wife,” he whispers, nipping at your earlobe, and you think he just might.

i beg re9 taking care of reader, like spoiling them while reader is like calling them old man or whatever silly names

જ⁀➴ Re9!Leon taking care of you even if you’re being a brat about it ᝰ.ᐟ

You’ve been practically glued to your laptop all day, hunched at the screen for hours on end without moving a single muscle. The most he’d gotten out of you since this morning was a plea for help when you got stumped on how to spell a certain word, but for the most part, it’s been complete radio silence.

It was admirable at first to see you so passionate, but now you’re rolling your shoulders every few minutes, murmuring under your breath like a crazy person, frowning at the words on the screen like they’ve got you hostage.

It was worrying him, so he figures you need an intervention.

“Alright. You’re done.” He says, literally dragging your chair away from the desk until your laptop is out of reach, much to your dismay.

“Leon, no. I need to finish this paragraph— just one more hour.”

He ignores your protests with a disapproving tut of his tongue. “I already gave you an extra hour, baby. I’m not asking, I’m telling you. You are done.”

He’s using that tone, the ‘dad voice’ as you had called it once, just to take a jab at his age. The sternness in his tone leaves no room for if’s or buts, and you know from past experience he isn’t above manhandling you into relaxing for an hour or however long he sees fit, really, so what else is there to do save for letting him steer you into the living room?

You plop yourself down onto the couch and instantly melt back into the plush cushions, a relieved sigh falling from your lips.

“C’mere you stubborn girl.” He mutters, sitting down beside you and tugging you closer— his big hands clasping around your shoulders with a deep squeeze, slowly working the tension from your taut muscles.

Despite how much you want to huff and puff at him, to tell him he was being ridiculous, he was good with his hands, and you were weak to his touch— especially when his thumbs press over that spot at the base of your neck, slowly smoothing out the tightness at your shoulder blades.

He chuckles under his breath when you lean into him with a faint whimper that you fail to bite back, your fingers curling into a throw pillow.

“Mmm, s’this how it feels to be your age, old man?” You giggle teasingly yet arch into his hands.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up— I’m old, it’s hilarious.” He mutters, but there’s no denying the fondness in his voice. He’s used to your little jabs by now, and to be honest, he kinda likes them. “But sweetheart,” he muses, leaning in to brush a kiss to the nape of your neck before you could get another word in, “only one of us here is currently groaning like a grandma.”

You scoff in feigned offence, and he doesn’t need to see your face to know that you’re rolling your eyes at him. “Mm, whatever, it’s not like-” your sentence gets cut off by an honest-to-god moan when he presses over a certain spot that aches a little too good.

You stretch your back out and roll your shoulders, and Leon all but coos behind you, “ohh, that’s it’s, big stretch f’me baby.” You fight the urge to hit him over the head with a pillow.

“Ugh… hush it, old man,” you mutter weakly.

“Mhm, you gonna let this old man run you a bath?” he smirks against your shoulder as you slump back against his chest with a pout, and you feel him chuckle behind you, the sound vibrating against your back. “Come on, let me spoil you tonight, you pouty little thing.”

“M’kay… fine,” you sigh, melting under his loving affection, trying to fight back the fluttery warmth in your chest when he coos a soft, “There’s my girl.”

જ⁀➴ Resident Evil Masterlist જ⁀➴ General Masterlist

no ur so real for this babe don’t evaa apologise!! 18+

because like yes… it starts out innocently, warm morning light spilling through the kitchen blinds as you cook pancakes in your lacy little bralet and a pair of his boxers with him behind you, rubbing his hands all over your curves, kissing at your neck and shoulders, hard-on pressed against your ass.

It doesn’t take long until you’re bent over the sleek marble countertops with those boxers pooled at your ankles and his fat cock buried deep inside your dripping cunt, stretching you out around him, groaning against your shoulder as you writhe against him.

“You’re too perfect, baby, looking all pretty, cooking me breakfast, letting me fuck this tight pussy— fuckin’ angel.”

Then his big arm wraps around your neck to keep you still, warm muscles tucked snugly under your jaw, your cheeks all squished between his bicep and forearm… and your cunt clenches around his thickness, pressing your ass back against him with a choked whimper of his name.

“Ooh, does my girl like that?— y’like when your old man chokes you a little, gonna cum, huh?” He coos roughly, his arm tightening just a fraction to feel your slick walls clamp around his cock once more. your eyes flutter shut as he ruts himself against your ass, the tip of his cock hitting that perfect spot deep inside you over and over again, the wet slap of skin filling your mind.

“Answer me or I stop.”

You gurgle, fingers desperately curling at his arm, blabbering nonsense, spit dribbling down your chin and pooling filthy at the crook of his elbow before finally managing out a whiny, “Fu-ck— yeah, yes!- hnng-” gushing around his dick as he fucks his load into your fluttering pussy, his face buried in your sleep tussled hair, moaning about how fucking perfect you are.

Then he’ll make you pancakes with extra syrup <3 (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)

જ⁀➴ going undercover with Leon is stressful and you both blow off that steam together ᝰ.ᐟ 18+

The hotel room is sleek, with elegant silks and high ceilings, big windows, soft colours and warm lighting. It’s a presidential suite because, of course, it was. A big room that overlooked the city nightlife, from up here it felt worlds away— like a distant memory.

“You did really good tonight.” That’s how it started, a simple praise spoken behind closed doors— private, intimate in the way his voice drops to that hushed, tender whisper, and a smile warms his expression.

Your body was still thrumming with adrenaline from the night, the fake name, the made-up backstory, pretending to rub shoulders with shadows that no one spoke to and gaining information that wasn’t meant for your ears— it was thrilling, dizzying, it was burning through you.

Leon could feel it in the air, could taste it on the warm skin of your bare shoulders where he trails slow, open-mouthed kisses— the scratch his stubble shoots a tingle down your spine, your flushed skin cooled by the window that he presses you up against.

He pulls back to get a good, long look at you and that dress you squeezed yourself in, all curves and satin— how he managed to keep his hands off of you all night? God fucking knows. “Look at you— fuck, look at you, baby,” he groans, voice roughened by want that runs hot through his veins. He tugs you closer by your hips, his head ducking to mouth at your jawline like he just can’t help himself.

જ⁀➴ Leon Kennedy gives his favourite bartender a visit, after another gruelling mission, with an offer ᝰ.ᐟ

You hear him before you see him— motorcycle engine rumbling when he parks up outside, his boots scuffing against the wooden floorboards as he makes his way over to his usual spot and lo and behold, when you step out from the backroom, there he is, all leather and hardened edges.

You watch his expression soften just a fraction under the warm flickering glow of the bar lights, and despite yourself, you feel your throat clench, heart stubbornly skipping a beat or two. You had missed him.

But you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of hearing that from you.

“We’re closed.” you scoff, crossing your arms over your chest like you haven’t been praying to see him walk through those creaky doors for months now after he had upped and left without a single word.

He smirks, slow and annoyingly charming, his dark brows raising in amusement. “Really?”

“Yes, really, Leon. You’ve been coming here long enough to know the rules.”

Still, he shakes his jacket off, rolling the sleeves of his compression shirt up to his elbows, and it takes everything in you not to stare at his big arms— damn him.

“True. I also know that you break those rules… regularly,” he shoots back knowingly, his blue eyes fixed onto you as if he could tell exactly what’s going on in your mind. A part of you thinks he just might.

“You’ve got some fucking nerve. Seriously. You’re not gonna ask me how I’ve been?— or where you’ve been?” you mutter, giving him a weak glare that he sees right through.

“It’s a long story and one I’m not telling sober, sweetheart,” he nods over to the bottle of whiskey you keep tucked on the top shelf with a wink and a silent ‘please?’ in his eyes. You just can’t refuse.