leon’s pr manager

“No, I told you multiple times my husband and I aren’t interested in this insurance deal, we’re already covered.”

He froze, breath hitching, eyes widening ever so slightly. Husband… Your husband. Warmth flooded his entire body, his loving gaze never leaving you as Leon tried to process what was happening. To think you felt safe enough to call him this, to think you saw this relationship as something permanent, something that would last forever… To think you chose him over others. It felt overwhelming — Delightfully overwhelming. And he could swear his vision blurred for a bit, eyes glassy from the few tears of joy threatening to spill. It was already a privilege in itself to have you for himself. To walk outside, hand in hand, for the world to see. Leon is the kind of guy that worships the ground you walk on, that celebrates the smallest of your accomplissements like you just found the cure of a deadly disease… That can’t believe you’re his, despite his flaws.

Starting something with Leon wasn’t the easiest ship you had to sail — Far from it. The nightmares, the insecurities, the traumas, the fear of being rejected, abandoned… Or worst. To see you die. So many obstacles that could have ruined everything, so many times he told himself he didn’t deserve you — Only for you to be ever so patient with him, all the time. To be there when he woke up from his endless nightmares, to show him he also deserved to be loved and to know what happiness felt like. Leon was a mess when you first met him — emotionally wrecked, completely devastated by countless losses. To him, it felt like you were the light guiding him through the dark, to a better place… To a safe haven. So many people would have fled, leaving him behind, a bit more broken, a bit more vulnerable — But not you. You were determined to make it work, because you knew he was the love of your life, as stupid as it sounds. You knew you would never love someone else as much as you love him, so you stayed. Through the storms, through the sleepless nights, through the tears and anger.

Throwing your phone away on the couch, you turned around only to be started by his presence. A hand against your heart, you almost let a curse out.

“Jesus Leon… You could have told me you were here,” you let out a chuckle, reducing the distance between the two of you until your arms could reach the back of his nape. “Hello handsome.”

He stood there silently for a moment, still stunned — Still wondering if it was all a dream after all. Yet his arms gently pulled you closer, his lips pecking yours a few times, slow and soft.

“Hello, Mrs Kennedy,” the words felt good on his tongue. So good he wondered why he didn’t ask you to become his wife way sooner. Your eyes widen, mouth opening ever so slightly as a grin stretches his lips.

“It’s just that…” you’re embarrassed, warmth creeping up your cheeks as you’re caught redhanded. Was it too early? Did you do too much? Should you have asked him if it was okay for you to call him your husband first? Hundreds of questions crashed in your mind, only for them to vanish at the sound of his laugh reaching your ears. “Stop playing dumb,” you gently slap his shoulder, hiding your face in the crook of his neck.

“Your husband is dumb?” Leon teases, his fingers caressing the soft skin of your back, under your shirt.

“Oh zip it,” you scoff, eyes rolling in fake annoyance as you lift your face to kiss him, preventing him from embarrassing you further.

The kiss is tender, soft — Pure. Something that ressembles the love the two of you have for each other. It lasts for a few more seconds, his lips leaving yours almost reluctantly.

“Keep telling everyone I’m your husband Mrs Kennedy, because it will be a fact very, very soon.” He whispers, his warm breath fanning over your lips as your eyes flutter open to look at him. And for a moment, your heart beats so fast it feels like it’s about to burst off your ribcage. You want to cry, to jump everywhere, to tell everyone about it, to hold him tight until the euphoria passes — So many emotions all at once your brain struggles to process them all. You can feel your lash line watering despite all your efforts to keep those tears for yourself, as Leon gently grabs your face in between his large hands. Palms pressed against your cheeks, he kisses your forehead, the tip of your nose, your closed eyelids, your chin and then your lips one more time.

“I love you,” an other murmur, a promise. The three words Leon would sometimes struggle to say, and you never made him feel bad about it. Because you know how hard it is for him to love someone without being so afraid to lose them. Because you know there’s this little voice at the back of his head still telling him, from time to time, that he doesn’t deserve any of it. Those three words you sometimes hoped to hear more often, yet never blamed him for being who he is. How could you, after everything he’s been through?

And here they are — Those pretty tears rolling down your face, unable to stay still and hidden. But Leon kisses them all away as you sob silently, overwhelmed by all the love he’s giving you in this very moment.

“I love you too, Leon,” your voice is barely above a whisper, just loud enough for him to hear. Carefully, he places one of his arm on your lower back, his free hand grabbing one of yours, lifting it to his lips so he can kiss your wrist, then your knuckles.

“Want to give me a first dance, Mrs Kennedy?”

one thing with leon, is that he will remember every single thing you say. your car is doing those weird noises when you drive? the very next day he’s standing there in front of your car, hood open, dirty hands digging in the mechanic. you mentioned your favorite flowers being peonies? soon enough there is a HUGE bouquet of peonies sitting in your arms, almost too big for you. you hate the cold? if he’s inviting you over, he’s setting his thermostat to 22° celcius to make sure his place will be warm enough for you — even if he, himself, prefers lower temperatures. he just wants to know everything about you: your hobbies, your favorite movie, your favorite book, what you like or don’t… and will memorize them all.

confessing to you was… challenging, to say the least. between the fear of being rejected, and the guilt of falling for someone much younger than him, leon felt like it was selfish of him to make a move, when you had your entire life ahead of you. but what he couldn’t see were the gentle glances, your hand pressing his ever so softly, the hope blooming in your eyes the closer the two of you get. so when he finally managed to gather enough courage to tell you about his feelings, it felt like the sun would never stop shining above you. it was clumsy, he would sometimes stutter over his own words because even if he is leon s kennedy the dso agent, he’s also very vulnerable and completely unfamiliar with opening up. but you were patient… as you always were. holding his hands with yours, thumbs gently rubbing the back of them, eyes never leaving his face. you didn’t try to rush him, didn’t cut him half sentence even if he was struggling… you just let him be. showing him you will always listen to him, that talking about his own feelings was more than alright. of course he told you about how he probably wasn’t the best choice, that you most definitely had dozens of men waiting for the smallest opportunities… and that made you laugh. because, again, he couldn’t see how in love you were with him, since the very beginning. his worries all vanished when your lips met his in a gentle kiss… right after telling him you waited for this very day for the longest time.

leon could listen to you talking for hours on end. there’s just something so comforting, so soothing in the tone of your voice that makes him feel grounded — safe. makes him feel at home anywhere as long as you’re here. so anytime you would read a bit before sleeping, he would just get in bed with you. his arms wrapped around your waist, using your chest as a pillow, he waits for you to start reading aloud. and with one hand holding your book, the other gently stroking his hair, it feels like the world stopped just to listen to you.

every time you take a shower together, leon will ask if he can wash your hair. every single time. that man just can’t keep his hands off you, and he loves to watch your entire body relaxing when he gently starts massaging your scalp. he’s very gentle — very cautious not to let any drop of shampoo reach your eyes. he even goes as far as placing his left hand on your closed eyelids when he brings the showerhead to your scalp, getting rid of the shampoo with warm water.

leon loves watching you sleep. not in a creepy way… far from it. because his nights are usually very short and filled with nightmares, he’s one to wake up super early — and it soon became a little guilty pleasure of his: to watch you, peacefully asleep. far from your worries, from the tiny things that sometimes affect you in a negative way. the pad of his fingers gently trace the lines of your face — around your eyes, the tip of your nose, your cupid’s bow then your lips. it’s a gentle touch you can’t even really feel, because he wouldn’t want to wake you up.

you open your mouth, ready to protest, but all you can do is pathetically cough, palm of your hand against your lips to avoid any sort of contamination, the other resting on your stomach.

“just choked on my spit, nothing serious… and i’m always hot, sir, thanks for the compliment,” your voice is half broken, your eyes teary, and for a moment, leon really wonders if you think he’s that stupid. he scoffs, putting one arm under your knees, the other against your back, carrying you bridal style — something ridiculously easy for him — not letting you getting your way this time around.

“you’re going to catch that shit too, leon, seriously…” with your arms around his neck, you don’t even feel like fighting anymore, your eyes fluttering shut. you don’t know how you managed to drag yourself out of bed as you suddenly realize how in bad shape you really are.

“the world won’t end if i do,” he mutters, gently tucking you back in your shared bed — very carefully. “i’ll take a quick shower and come back soon, alright? don’t even think of moving a muscle,” there’s a soft smile stretching his lips, yet you know he’s being very serious about it… so you just nod, watching him lower the blinds until the room is dim enough for your eyes to rest.

the shower he took was, indeed, the shortest of his damn life, and even if your mind is slowly drifting away, you can hear him, in the distance.

it’s the gentle touch of his palm on your forehead that brings you back to reality, your eyes struggling to open. your nose scrunches a bit, fists rubbing your eyelids.

“and you said you were fine,” leon shakes his head, half amused, grabbing a damp washcloth to place it on your forehead. “if it’s not enough i’ll run you a cold bath, alright?”

“is that a threat?” you mutter, humor still peaking through. you always take hot baths — very hot ones, that have leon telling you even hell isn’t as hot… so the thought of a cold bath is enough for a shiver to run down your spine.

“you’re impossible,” your vision is slightly blurry, but you can swear you saw a smile on his pretty face… and it’s enough for you to smile too, your lips stretching ever so slightly.

“come on sleeping beauty, let’s drink a bit,” his right hand settles behind your head, gently lifting your upper body enough for you to drink from the glass of water he brought you, without choking. and you now understand how dehydrated you were, holding to that glass for dear life as you drink all of it in one go.

“jesus christ you’re no better than that plant you always forget to water,” leon snorts, putting the glass aside right before an other coughing fit sparks. realizing the position you’re in might not be the best, he piles two more pillows up under yours, laying you back down. “open your mouth for me,” and you can’t help but laugh, like he just said the funniest thing ever. puzzled, he looks at you cluelessly, but your laugh is short lived… since the flu strikes again, and you’re coughing all over again.

“what’s so funny?” leon still holds the cough drop between his fingers as you gently wipe the few tears threatening to spill off your eyes away.

“it’s just funny to hear you say this when i’m not kneeling in front of you, you know…” you still open your mouth nonetheless, visibly very amused, and you can see him rolling his eyes, placing the drop on your tongue… drop that soon disappears when you close your mouth again.

“rest, instead of playing clown,” he’s about to get up when you reach for his hand, a soft pout plastered on your face — the one you know he would never say no to.

“stay with me? please?”

there’s a moment of silence as he wonders if it’s the best thing to do, if he shouldn’t let you rest on your own… but he nods, and after getting rid of his shirt, crawls under the bedsheets. his arms wrapped around your waist, leon kisses the side of your jaw before resting his cheek against his pillow.

“i’m sorry if i ever get you sick,” you mumble, eyelids suddenly heavy. it’s always like this after all — leon just has to lay right next to you for your insomnias to vanish. you should be used to it by now, yet it always, always, amazes you.

“don’t think about it and try to sleep a bit. oh, and you’re getting a soup after your nap, and an herbal tea.” he knows you hate soups. and you just know there’s this infamous grin of his on his face as he tells you about your lunch plans.

“what are you, my fucking doctor…” you mumble, a soft annoyed huff leaving your lips.

“i missed you so much,” he’s almost pleading, neediness filling his voice as his face disappears between your thighs. he inhales deeply, face flush against the skin of your inner thigh — and you swear you saw his eyes roll to the back of his head. propped up on your elbows, you watch him peppering your flesh with hot kisses, his strong arms resting on your lower back and forcing a slight arch to make it easier for him.

“leon, stop teas—” the word dies on your tongue as his mouth kisses your puffy lips, stealing the air off your lungs. the back of your head hits the pillow, one of your hands grabbing a fistful of his ashy blond hair — and you can’t help but moan when he starts making out with your pussy. it’s messy and obscene: how his tongue laps at your entrance, not wasting a single drop of your juice, his eyes fluttering close like he’s savoring the moment. and if you weren’t already so fucked out, you would hear him growl ever so softly against your skin, his pelvis helplessly humping the mattress. it’s not his fault after all… you should know he’s feeling as much pleasure as you when it comes to this.

he’s eating you out like he’s starving, like his hunger is insatiable — sometimes kissing your clit and flicking it with the tip of his tongue, sometimes licking long strips up your slit, leon is everywhere all at once, his grip on your waist tightening when you try to escape him from the overstimulation. the delicious sounds pouring off your lips are music to his ears, and god it takes all he has not to cum in his damn pants right here right now… especially when your thighs start convulsing around his head, almost choking him in the process.

“i’m gonna cum,” you breathe, head spinning as your heels dig into the mattress, brows furrowing in an hopeless attempt to last a bit longer.

“come on my tongue honey,” he’s begging for it, burying his nose in your clit, lips and tongue working you out until you’re nothing but a sobbing mess.

your climax hits you like a freight train — spreading like a wildfire in your lower belly, stars dancing across your vision as you tilt your head back. a plethora of leon’s name tumble off your mouth like a waterfall, his eyes now fully open to watch you unravel... something he will never get bored of. helping you riding your high, he doesn’t stop until you’re pushing his head away — and even then you have to fight a little because he’s not ready to let go… yet.

“stop leon… that’s too much…” you sob, a shivering mess as you slowly lifting your head only to be met by the most sinful sight — leon s. kennedy, hair slicked back, lips swollen and red, chin glistening with your own arrousal.

“fucking hell,” you try to rub your thighs against each other as you feel a new wave of warmth peeking through… but he’s still there, gently nestled between the two of them. and the smirk tugging at his lips tells you everything you need to know — he’s not done with you. far from being done with you, actually.

with his hands gently grabbing your hips, he flips you on your stomach, face against the pillow, ass up and knees buried in the mattress. all you can do is gasp when his hands spread your cheeks just for him to have a better view on your pussy fluttering around nothing, a heavenly sigh leaving his lips.

“i hope you’re not too tired baby, because we’re not going to bed anytime soon.”

“but i love your wrinkles, though.” the softness in your voice stretches his lips ever so slightly, his eyes closing for a few seconds, relishing in the way your fingers gently touch his face through the mask.

“your turn to do it! and don’t poke one of my eyes alright…” there’s a wink punctuating your words, and soon enough, you’re handing him the skincare packet.

leon is extra careful, tearing the top of the packet before dipping his fingers into the bag. the tip of his nose scrunches — probably taken aback by the texture, or the amount of liquid in there… and the next step makes him feel like he’s about to go absolutely crazy.

how did you manage to do this so quickly when he’s struggling to apply the mask on your face? the sheet mask is all wrinkled and he almost ripped one corner as he desperately tried to adjust the part on your forehead.

“why’s your head so small,” he grunts, clearly a bit irritated because it shouldn’t be as hard as it is right now… but every time you say you can do it yourself if he wants to, he looks at you like you’ve just said the craziest thing ever. you can even see his brows furrowing ever so slightly as he doesn’t even answer, before focusing on his impossible task again.

leon 1, sheet mask 0 — after endless minutes of struggles, here he is, smirk tugging at his lips, proudly looking at you. “see, told you i could do this.”

“like a champ, on top of that,” the smile adorning your face is nothing of mockery, just pure love for the man standing right before your eyes — and your right hand gently drifts to his, thumb softly brushing the back of his hand. with your free fingers, you grab your glass of white whine, carefully bringing it to your lips to take a few small sips, and he does the same, clearly invested.

there’s tons of pillows and covers to keep you warm on the couch you’re sat on, snacks in bowls and your bottle of wine on the coffee table, one of your favorite movies playing on the big television leon bought for you a few months earlier… because you kept complaining about not being able to see much with your old tv. one of the many gifts he would treat you with, because you deserve them all — something he would tell you every single time he brought something home for you.

“so now… what are we doing?” leon’s eyes flicker from the tv to you, as you rest the top of your head against his shoulder, your arms wrapped around one of his biceps. and he almost regrets asking you this as mischief settles in your pretty eyes, the top of your body straightening up as you lay your legs on top of his, glass of wine resting in your palm.

“gossips, mr kennedy… so, what are you going to tell me about your partners?”

pete mcvries — words of affirmation,

pete is a man of words, and it’s no secret… and that’s what made you fall in love with him. he would write endless poems about you, reading them to you as he stands there right below your open bedroom window in the middle of the night, and you’d listen to him with nothing but sparks and stars in your eyes, leaning on your elbows, focused on him. then came the songs, with his guitar… because it always felt so much easier for pete to sing his love for you. pete also sometimes leaves sticky notes for you on the fridge if he wakes up before you, wishing you a wonderful day, telling you how much he loves you — he’s not one to say those words lose their meaning if said too often, because he wants you to know how much you mean to him.

billy stebbins — acts of service,

billy struggles with showing his emotions, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t love you — he’s not the first to reach out for a kiss or a hug, but will never deny it to you because he, also, feels good anytime you’re in his arms. he listens when you complain about your car making weird noises, about the snow making it hard for you to reach the house, about the lack of shelves in the kitchen… and those problems aren’t problems anymore as soon as the day after. billy takes care of everything to make your life easier, and never expects anything in return — he doesn’t even tell you he fixed your car or bought new shelves, you just happen to notice it and hes the happiest when you thank him with a kiss, and a few gentle words.

collie parker — gift giving,

collie loves gifting you things… as much as he can. it can be your favorite flower found on your nightstand, a book you mentioned during dinner waiting for you on the kitchen island… just trivial little things. every time he sees something that makes him think of you, he’s buying it — even if he has to save money for it, work harder for it… he will buy it. he’s also one to make jewelry for you — it is something that is pretty common where he’s from, and he’s definitely proud to see you wearing the hairpins, bracelets, anklets and necklaces he made just for your pretty eyes.

hank olson — quality time,

as long as he’s with you, hank always has the time of his life. you don’t even have to talk to each other, to do an activity together — it can be you two reading books on the sofa, you cooking and him cleaning, or just doing anything separately: as long as you’re in the same room as him, he feels satisfied. but what he enjoys even more is how you always focus on him anytime he explains something to you, instantly stopping whatever you’re doing just to listen… or when you two go on a stroll together, holding hands and talking about anything. he’s always looking forward to thursday nights as it’s your weekly date nights — going to the cinema or restaurant, stargazing, heading to the fair, going for a walk… hank takes care of everything, because everything is so much more special, when it’s just the two of you.

gary barkovitch — physical touch,

gary lacks tact, and he knows that… and he wants to do better, but it takes time. sometimes — most of the time — it’s just so much easier for him to reach for your hand, to stand still right next to you, his arm around your shoulders. he feels like he doesn’t even have to say anything, because that’s simply how he shows his love for you — and you know how much it means, for someone who doesn’t let anyone get too close. he loves when you wash his hair, when you pepper his face with sweet kisses, when you swing your legs over his when you two watch a movie on your couch. in fact, gary always feels so calm and serene every time your bodies touch, and this is what makes him realize he will do better, for you.

art baker — words of affirmation,

art has nothing but love, devotion and admiration for you, and he never gets tired of telling you how gorgeous you are, how lucky he is to have you, how smart and perfect you are. he’s celebrating the smallest of your achievements like you actually became president, and you can tell he isn’t overreacting — he’s genuinely impressed, and happy for you. he can spend hours looking at your pretty face, and it can be sometimes overwhelming if you’re feeling insecure about yourself… but art will make all those insecurities fly away in record times. in bed, he worships you like you’re some kind of god-like figure, a beautiful creature from an other dimension — something he sometimes feels he doesn’t deserve.

richard harkness — quality time,