#(kennedy)

Wow...

"Leon," you had squealed! collapsing into his arms as you babble about your night. His arms lifting you off the ground and taking you upstairs as you talk his ear off.

He was half listening, half trying not to trip up the stairs. Placing you on the edge of your marital bed, on his knees before you as he slips off your heels, rubbing a lotion on the back off your feet where your shoes had rubbed. Helping you into your warm pajamas, then to brush your teeth, wash off your makeup, and finally drink some water before bed.

"Can I tell you a secret?" You had whispered, and he had hummed softly as he held you against his side in bed, "I want to marry you someday," you spoke quiet, hiccuping after you finished.

"we are married sweetheart," he said, ruffling your hair, and you gasped excitedly, beginning to ask a string of questions, before you finally drifted to sleep completely.

pairing: leon s. kennedy [re9] x young fem! reader

content: +18 | Smut | Boyfriend's Dad | Age Gap | Slow Burn | Oral Sex (f! receiving, m! receiving) | Rough-ish sex | Soft Dom | Emotional Conflict

summary: After yet another canceled date, you find yourself stuck at your boyfriend Chris’s house, waiting with a glass of whiskey and the uncomfortable realization that he might never show up. Instead, the person keeping you company is his father, Leon Kennedy. What starts as quiet conversation in a dim living room slowly becomes something far more dangerous.

word count: 3890

A/N: Leon in this story has nothing to do with RE, hopefully there's no grammatic error, i wrote it pretty quickly, if so, let me know | hope you'll like it <3

You sit right on the edge of Leon's beat up old leather couch, the kind that's got that worn in creak every time you shift your weight, legs crossed super tight under your short denim skirt because you're trying not to fidget too much like some nervous kid. The living room lamp throws this soft yellow glow, making the shadows stretch long and kinda intimate, way too close for comfort in a house that's not even yours. Your phone buzzes one more time on the coffee table, lighting up with Chris's name: -Work emergency hit again, babe. Tomorrow for sure? Sorry.- and you just swallow hard feeling that familiar heat spreading up your cheeks feeling exhausted 'cause this is the third fucking time this week he dumped you like you're some optional side quest. The whiskey Leon poured for you when you showed up announced waiting for Chris, sits warm and heavy in your hand, that sharp burn sliding slow down your throat as you take a tiny sip, wondering why the hell you're even staying her after Chris stood you up

Leon's leaned back in the armchair right across from you, his long legs spread out all casual like he owns the damn world, which, in this house, he kinda does, those piercing blue eyes staring you down without even blinking. His hair falling messy over his forehead from where he's been running his fingers through it, and that faded black tee clings just right to his broad chest and those thick arms, built solid from all those years on the force, faint scars peeking out from under the rolled-up sleeves if you look close enough, which you do. He makes your stomach flip, like Chris never did.

"Rough night, huh?" he rasps, his voice all low and scratchy, kind of like a warm blanket but with a bit of a bite to it. He doesn't look away for a second, just watches you over his glass while he takes a slow sip, never breaking the eye contact.

You nod quickly at first, then shake your head slightly as the words catch in your throat, a shy heat flooding your face as you stare at the amber liquid swirling in your glass instead of meeting his gaze.

"Yeah, it's just, Chris keeps bailing on everything, you know? Makes me feel like I'm totally invisible unless he needs something quick and easy." Your mind flashes quick to last time you hooked up, dark room, lights off like always, him climbing on top for that boring missionary sex that lasted maybe two minutes tops, grunting mechanically before he rolls off and starts snoring, leaving you empty and aching, but fuck if you say that out loud, especially not to his dad, because that's way too embarrassing, your cheeks burning just thinking about having a sex conversation with him.

Leon watches you like that for what it feels an eternity , his jaw twiching slightly under that light beard, something dark flickering in those blue eyes before he sets his glass on the coffee table. He stands up slowly, all that height unfolding easy, and crosses the room without a rush, dropping down to sit right next to you on the couch, close enough that your knees brush his thigh, heat seeping right through the denim of his jeans into your bare skin. Your pulse kicks up hard, pine cologne hitting you full force mixed with that faint of whiskey and coffee on his breath, making you blush slightly.

"You're not invisible, not even close," he murmurs soft, his voice dropping even lower as those intense blue eyes lock onto yours, holding you there like he can't look away. His hand lands light on your knee his thumb brushes slow circle on the skin making you breathless. You don't pull away, thighs clenching tight against the sudden spark low in your belly, panties already feeling a bit wet because god, it's wrong but his touch feels so fucking good.

You both just sit there like that for what feels like forever, silence stretching thick and heavy between you, his thumb moving again in another lazy stroke up your thigh, the fabric of your skirt bunching just a little under his fingers as they inch higher toward your inner thigh. "Leon" you whisper, your voice small and unsure, your eyes lowering to look at his hand before returning to his face, where that dark hunger now flashes stronger, possessive and raw, his pupils blown wide like he's fighting every instinct to hold back.

He doesn't push, doesn't say shit, just keeps that thumb tracing slow patterns, eyes dropping to your lips for a second, then back to your thighs peeking out from under the skirt, chest rising a bit faster under that tee. Finally, he lifts his free hand slow, hesitating in the air near your cheek like he's scared he'll break something fragile, then lets it drop back to his lap with a low exhale. Stands up sudden, breaking the touch like it burns him, and mutters,

"You should get some rest, kid, and don't you dare drive, just use Chris's room" his voice husky and strained, saing his son's name firmly and rough as he heads toward the kitchen, leaving you sitting there breathless, your pussy tingling and wet, guilt stabbing sharp because of Chris's necklace still heavy around your throat, but Leon's eyes burned into your brain, the way he looked at you like he wanted to devour you whole but held back for your sake.

The next day drags on forever, slow and frustrating, Chris texts some half assed sorry with a promise for date night, he didn't even come home for the night, not that you really care. You felt bad touching yourself in you're boyfriend's room thinking about his father who was in the room across the hallway, but somehow it felt so liberatory. Hopefully Leon didn't hear you moan at 1am.

Two days pass like torture, the tension rising every time you think of Leon's house, those blue eyes haunting you. You swing by their place for a charger you left behind, telling yourself it's no big deal, but Chris is out with his buddies as usual. Leon answers the door in a greasy tshirt, sleeves rolled up to show those veined forearms, the hood of the truck open in the garage behind him.

"Hey, sweetheart," he says nonchalant with a slow smile that crinkles the corners of his eyes, but his gaze wanders hungrily over the curves of your sundress, lingering on the way the fabric hugs your hips and thighs before leaning nonchalantly against the doorframe, completely blocking your entrance as if he wants you to stay there.

"I know Chris isn't here, just grabbing my charger real quick," you mumble shy, forcing a smile as you step past him, your arm brushing his chest accidental, on purpose, sending electric sparks straight to your spine. He follows you into the garage without a word, watches silent as you grab the first charger that you see, without even thincking if it's yours, probably not. You feel his eyes burning into you, following the curve of your ass as you lean up your bare legs, that desire pouring from him so intense you could touch it, his breathing getting a little heavier now.

"You look real good today," he says finally, voice rough and low, stepping closer behind you until his heat radiates against your back, close enough you smell his pine scent. His hand stays in the air near your hip for a long second, fingers twitching like he aches to grab, but he drops it with a frustrated exhale, clenching into a fist. "Found it?" Heart pounding shy, you straighten up slow and turn to face him, so close now his chest nearly brushes yours, those blue eyes burning with pure desire, pupils dark and wide, his chest heaving slightly under his shirt.

"Yeah, got it." you whisper, but you don't step back, caught in that stare. He lifts his hand slow this time, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers brushing the side of your neck voluntarily, sending shivers down your spine all the way to your wet panties. "Be careful out there, alright?" he whispers husky, his voice tortured like it's killing him to pull back, like he'd give anything to pin you against that workbench. You nod shaky, grab the charger, and bolt before you do something stupid, thighs slick as you drive home, his touch printed on your skin like a mark.

The week blurs into this agonizing slow dance of stolen glances, every interaction increasing the tension. Chris bails on movie night, so you end up at Leon's kitchen again, standing at the counter while he pours you a coffee slow, positioning himself too near, his knee pressing deliberate against your thigh under the counter. His thumb brushes the back of your hand when he hands over the mug, rough against your skin, eyes searching yours with that pained jealous edge. "Chris treating you right lately?" he asks low, fist gripping the counter edge white knuckled as his gaze drops to your chest peeking out from your tank, breathing heavily. You nod hesitantly, he catches that you’re unsure so he arched and eyebrow. You shake your head shy, mumbling "Not really” you see his jaw tick hard "Idiot doesn't know what he's got," he growls, stepping back.

Nights alone turn into your dirty secret, you touch yourself slow under the covers, fingers circling your clit lazy to memories of his thumb on your thigh, imagining his beard scratching your skin, guilt twisting with thrill, he's your boyfriend's dad. Chris's sex just worsens, quicker and rougher, selfish thrusts leaving accidental bruises on your hips with zero aftercare, you pulling away more each time, faking it harder while craving Leon's gentle intensity.

Family barbecue rolls around that weekend, backyard full of smoke and laughter, Chris pounding beers by the pool and ignoring you completely while you relax in your swimsuit. Leon is at the grill across the yard, flipping burgers with those strong hands, but his eyes find yours, yearning in every glance, tracing the water droplets on your thighs, the curve of your breast under the wet fabric, forcing tight smiles for his friends while his jaw tightens every time Chris slings an arm around you casual. He catches you alone in the kitchen refilling drinks, corners you against the counter, bodies inches apart, his heat pressing close. "Having fun out there?" he breathes hot against your neck, hand brushing your waist "accidental," fingers digging in firm for that one long second, cock hardening in his jeans enough to nudge your hip subtle. Shiver down your spine. "Yeah," you lie breathy, heartbeat racing. He growls low tortured, "Liar," his eyes darkened with need before pulling away pained, leaving you throbbing and soaked under your bikini.

That night, Chris passes out drunk upstairs snoring like a chainsaw, and you sneak downstairs for water, heart pounding when you spot Leon in the kitchen shirtless in gray sweatpants, pouring whiskey. His eyes light up dark hunger when he turns, tracking your every move as you fill a glass. "Can't sleep?" he asks rough, sitting at the table and patting the chair next to him. You slide in, knee touching his under the table on purpose now. His hand covers yours sudden on the table, "You fucking glow, kid. Deserve someone who worships every inch of you," he whispers, your chest rising fast, his hand twitching like it wants to pull you closer. You lean in shy, faces inches apart, noses brushing electric, lips slightly touching but he pulls back both breathless with a tortured rasp, "Goodnight sweetheart” he gets up abruptly leaving you there, stunned, feeling the lack of his touch.

A week later, when Chris bails on your date for the thousandth time with some bullshit work excuse. You text him -fuck off- furious and horny, tires screeching as you drive straight to Leon's, pounding the door with your fist. He opens it pretty quickly, reads the fire in your eyes, pulls you inside silent and locks it, leading you to the couch where he pours whiskey double shots. You sit close, spilling it all shy at first: how lonely you feel, how Chris's touches are boring and quick, leaving you empty every time. He listens jaw tight, storm in those blue eyes, fist white on his glass. "He's blind as shit," he finally growls, hand slowly brushed against your tight, you melt into his touch. He moves his hand up under your skirt edge, fingers almost touching your wet panties. A light moan escapes shy as his thumb presses light over your clit through cotton, circling torturous. "Leon" you breathe, hips bucking tiny.

Eyes locked on yours. "Say stop if you want," he rasps raw. "But fuck, I've wanted you so bad it hurts." His lips crash soft at first, testing, then deepen hungry with tongue claiming every corner of your mouth, beard scratching your chin perfect rough. Your hand grab he’s shirt, pulling him closer as you moan needy into the kiss. He groans deep from his chest, take you onto his lap, you feel that hard protuberance through the fabric of his jeans, thick and promising as you ride him with no shame, feeling every inch throb against your soaked core.

Kiss breaks ragged breaths mingling. "We really can't do this," he mutters tortured, but he guided you to the couch on the living room while he said it and moved his hands peeling your shirt up slow inch by inch, revealing pink lace bra, eyes worshiping the way your breast full and heavy moves from your hard breathing.

"Fuck, you're perfect, sweetheart." he frantically unhooks your bra, your nipples are hard in the cool air. His mouth moves from yours to your hard nipples wrapping warm around one, tongue swirling circles that send sparks shooting straight to your throbbing pussy. You arch back moaning, fingers threading into his hair. He switches sides slow, sucking deeper with teeth, his thumb brushing against the other one.

Pleasure simmers low and steady, the heat building slowly. Your breathy gasps fill the quiet living room while his hand moves between your thighs, kneading and pinching, his mouth working with wet, obscene sounds. Then the zipper of your skirt slides down, agonizingly slow. His fingers hook into the fabric, guiding it down your legs along with your panties until you’re bare, trembling. Your thighs part instinctively. He lowers himself to his knees between them, graceful despite his size. Your knees rest over his elbows as he spreads you open without hesitation. For a long moment he just looks at you, breathing heavy and uneven. Staring at your pussy, your lips are swollen, pink and he stays there, watching, as if committing the sight of you to memory.

"Goddamn gorgeous little cunt, all wet and begging” his kisses move slowly up your inner thighs, light and gentle. Now and then he nips softly with his teeth, making you gasp. The slow teasing only makes the ache between your legs grow stronger, the feeling building with every touch.

His nose brushes your clit, inhaling deep your sweet scent like a drug, making you lifting your hips begging for him. His tongue presses flat as he licks slowly from your entrance up to your clit, taking his time, tasting every drop of you. A quiet cry slips from your lips as your back arches off the couch. He keeps going, tracing slow circles around your clit, unhurried, making the tension in your stomach tighten more and more. His fingers gently spread you open so he can make you feel better, his mouth closing around your clit in a soft pull. One of his thick fingers moves down to your entrance, teasing the edge slowly before slipping inside you. You feel your body tighten around him as he pushes deeper. He begins to move his finger in slow, steady strokes while his thumb presses firm circles on your clit at the same time, the two rhythms working together.

Your moans rise louder, filling the room as your eyes lock his. Second finger joins thick stretch, scissoring lazy before curling perfect against your spot. Stars burst behind your eyelids. He slides his third finger in nice and slow, making that sweet burn as it stretches your pussy totally full. It thrusts steady and deep, syncing up perfect with his tongue right on your clit, and the sloppy wet sucking pops that sound so fucking dirty. His other hand just pins your hip down easy with that thick forearm, muscles flexing hard and unyielding to keep you right there when you start squirming wild. That tiny bit of restraint hits you with this hot thrill pulsing everywhere, leaving you feeling so helpless and owned under him.

Sweat's slicking up your skin all shiny now, that nasty wet squelch from his fingers pumping deep in your pussy mixing right in with your whiny moans as he drags out, one slow wave after another stacking up higher and higher.

"Cum for me, baby girl," he growls low and rough straight against your soaked folds, the vibration buzzing deep through your core. He sucks your clit hard into his hot mouth then, humming that deep rumble in his throat, and your orgasm just shatters you slow, pussy squeezing his fingers in tight little spasms, squirting a hot mess all over his chin and hand while he laps it up greedy.

Leon doesn't stop. His tongue laps slower now, dragging through the slick mess you've made, savoring every drop like it's the sweetest fucking nectar. Your thighs around his shoulders, pussy still fluttering from the aftershocks, clit throbbing raw under his gentle sucks. He hums low, the vibration sending fresh sparks up your spine, and you whimper, oversensitive, hips twitching away on instinct. But his forearm stays locked on your hip, that light pin holding you open, owned, making your core clench empty now that his fingers have slipped free.

"Fuck, baby girl," he rasps, pulling back just enough to let you see his chin glistening with your cum, blue eyes dark and feral. "Taste so goddamn good. Soaked my whole face." He rises slow, knees popping faintly, and crashes his mouth to yours. You taste yourself on his tongue, his beard scraping your skin raw as he devours you. Your hands claw at his shirt, sliding it up and over his head, finally free to roam the hard ridges of his chest, the salt of his sweat on your palms.

His cock strains against his jeans, thick bulge grinding into your thigh as he settles between your legs again. You reach down, fumbling the button open, zipper rasping loud in the quiet room. He groans into your mouth when you shove his pants down, boxers following, and his cock springs free, heavy, veined, the head already leaking precum in a shiny bead. It's bigger than Chris's ever dreamed of being, curving up thick toward his abs, balls heavy and drawn tight.

"Leon, I need you" you breathe, voice wrecked, wrapping your fingers around the base. Hot velvet over steel, pulsing in your grip. He hisses sharp, his hips moving once, he grabs your wrist gently and firmly, controlling it without hurting you.

"Slow, sweetheart. Wanna feel every second." He guides your hand up the length, thumb smearing that precum over the slit, making him twitch hard. You slide off the couch to your knees now, the carpet rough under your skin, mirroring his position from before. His hand tangles in your hair, not pulling, thumb stroking your scalp as you lean in.

The musky scent hits you first, all man and excitement, making your mouth water. You lick flat from balls to tip, tasting the salt, then swirl your tongue around the head, sucking hard. Leon's breath stutters, abs flexing tight. "Shit… yeah, just like that. Suck my cock, swetheart." You take him deeper, lips stretching wide around the girth, cheeks hollowing as you bob slow. Saliva drips down your chin, pooling messy on his balls as you work him.

His grip tightens in your hair, guiding your pace now, fucking your mouth shallow at first. "Look at you… takin' your man's dick so pretty. Fuckin' made for this." The dirty words hit like fire, your pussy clenching empty, fresh wetness trickling down your thigh. You gag a little when he pushes deeper, nose brushing his pubes, but you relax, breathing through it, eyes watering up at him. He pulls back, strings of spit connecting you, then thrusts again, claiming.

You moan with his dick in your mouth, and suck even harder he yanks you off, cock shiny and red, twitching angry. "Not yet. Gonna fill that pretty cunt first." In one fluid move, he hauls you up, flipping you onto the couch on your back. Your legs hook his waist automatic as he pet his cock at your entrance, huge head kissing your swollen lips. He teases, sliding it up and down your slit, bumping your clit till you're whining, hips chasing.

"Please Leon, fuck me," you beg, nails raking his back. He locks eyes.

"Been dreamin' of this pussy since I first saw you." One hard thrust, and he's splitting you open, inch by thick inch, stretching your walls around his girth. You cry out, he bottoms out, pubic bone grinding your clit, and holds, lets you adjust, forehead pressed to yours, breaths panting hot.

"So fuckin' tight, i'm gonna cum me already." He pulls back slow, the drag pulling your lips out, then slams home, deep, punishing. The couch creaks under you, skin slapping skin loud and nasty. Each thrust punches the air from your lungs, his cock hitting that spot relentless now, no mercy. Sweat slicks your bodies, tits bouncing wild as he folds you near in half, knees by your ears.

"Fuck Leon" You claw his ass, urging deeper. He snarls, one hand pinning both wrists above your head, inescapable, that restraint making you drip around him. His free hand slaps your thigh light, sting blooming hot, then rubs it rough.

"Take it, sweetheart. This pussy's mine now." Your second orgasm builds fast, making every nerve scream. Clit throbs raw against his pelvis, walls spasming erratic.

He feels it, shifts angle perfect, thumb dropping to your clit rubbing tight circles brutal. "Cum on my cock, sweetheart. Squeeze me dry." The command shatters you. Pleasure rips vicious, pussy clamping tight, gushing hot around him in messy squirts. You scream his name, vision whiting, body convulsing under him.

He doesn't stop, fucks through it, prolonging the waves till you're sobbing, oversensitive tears streaking. "Good girl, fuck, yes." His rhythm falters, cock swelling huge as he unloads, hot ropes flooding your pussy, pulsing thick. His hot cum fills you up. It pushes you over the edge one more time. A small orgasm hits. Your pussy squeezes his cock tight. It milks out every thick drop.

He drops half onto you, heavy and warm. His cock softens slow inside your pussy, holding his cum deep. He pulls you close, lips brushing your forehead soft. "Mine now. All fuckin' mine."

Thank you for readings! Hope you liked it, feedback is always welcome <3

| inspired by the book “birthday girl” - penelope douglas |

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