#cursivevmwrites

not that he was bad at it before, but he gets outrageously good at eating you out now that his dick is untrustworthy. knowing exactly where to lick and prod, how to curl his fingers and push into that spongy spot that makes your back arch.

his favourite past time is looking up from between your legs and seeing you moaning above him, head thrown back, hands making a mess of his hair. he can’t help but let out obscene noises each time you pull at his strands, each time he feels your cunt tighten around his fingers. his dick never gets fully hard, but he still feels arousal. a damp, distant warmth in his abdomen.

he’d be humping the bed. not vigorously, not like he did when he was a younger man, but slow and controlled. a slow grind, over and over, until you’d come too many times all over his face and couldn’t take it anymore. the arousal would linger for hours. never enough to get him hard, but he still felt it. it made him heady, cuddling up to you, pawing at your breasts and kissing up your neck. he wished he could fuck you like he did when you’d first met. missed the feeling of entering you, of cumming inside you.

after searching online, reading countless articles, he came up with a semi-solution. fastening a harness around his broad hips, dildo lodged in the front. at first he’d felt embarrassed. the contrast was shocking. his limp dick remained in his briefs, but when he’d look down at you, your cunt sucking in the toy and leaking all over it, it really made him feel like he was fucking you, again. and you enjoyed it which was all that mattered to him. but this was a good alternative, close enough to the real thing. his hips would still stutter when you came around the toy, as if you actually were tightening around his length.

“just like that, lee. keep going.” his dick twitched at your words, your hands in his hair, the raked lines your nails had carved down his back. god, he couldn’t even get hard but he felt on top of the world.

“want you to cum.” you’d whisper in his ear, breath tickling his neck and making the hairs on his skin raise. “wanna see you cum, honey.”

he groaned, digging his nose into the crook of your neck, thrusting harder. he felt it, now. not hardness, but warmth. wet. he was leaking into the fabric of his underwear, under the harness.

“so good for me, always so good.” you kept going, lips parted and panting.

“i’m-oh, fuck.” he whimpered into your skin, hips stuttering. his orgasm hit him like a truck, knocking the wind out of him. you took his face gently in your hands, guiding his lips to yours. he was still cumming, eyes screwed shut, mouth malleable and weak for your kiss.

once his thrusts had stopped completely, you wrapped your arms around him, manoeuvring your bodies to lay you both on your sides, hissing at the movement of the toy still in you. his eyes were glazed over, heart pounding and head throbbing.

“you okay?” you whispered, gentle and oh so caring. his heart squeezed. you caressed the side of his face with your palm, grazing the stubble that’d grown there.

“almost killed me.”

you snorted, flicking his forehead.

he chuckled, wrapping his large arms around you, and squeezing you into him. you nuzzled into his bare chest, pressing kisses into his warm skin. his breathing was beginning to slow down, but you could still hear his heart pounding.

“we’re definitely doing that again.”

he severely enjoyed this. so much that it made him feel crazy, lightheaded and buzzing with adrenaline. being in your arms, your control, it set alight a fire in him that would never, could never, burn out. he rested a calloused hand on your knee, gripping your leg and pulling it tighter around him. your hands hovered over the steadily growing bulge in his sweatpants, the ghostly touch making his dick twitch in anticipation.

when he tilted his head back, looking into your eyes with the devotion that’d gotten you to marry him, you all but crashed your lips onto his. he groaned, parting his lips slightly to let in your tongue. he’d missed you an ungodly amount. gone for two weeks on a mission in the middle of nowhere with no reception. he’d been worried sick, worried that you’d think he was dead and gone. that you’d forget about him.

leon was anything if not dramatic, and infatuated with you.

you kissed for minutes on end, like you had all the time in the world, grazing the tent in his pants with increasing fervour and pressure. leon started grinding his hips upwards, chasing your touch, impatient. you smiled into his mouth, a soft chuckle lilting out of you. it made his stomach flip. he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, looking down at his lap where you finally began to give him a fraction of what he needed.

he watched, lips parted, as you pushed down his sweats, tapping the wet spot that had formed on his boxers. he sucked in a breath at the pressure, heart flying in his chest. he was so easy for you. he couldn’t believe it sometimes, how quickly you could undo him. take down his walls, the walls he’d spent so many years building. all it took was a single look from you, a touch, a word, and he was done for. he licked his lips, shivering when you exposed his dick to the air, hiking the hem of his boxers and pants underneath his balls.

“so pretty.” you murmured, manicured nails dragging along his length in a way that made leon gasp. your lips brushed against his nape, sending shivers down his spine and causing his grip on you to tighten.

“i-“ he stammered, hips rising when you finally wrapped a warm palm around him, squeezing at the base. god, you were going to kill him. he didn’t even know how he’d made it this far. married for years, and he still acted like a virgin around you. it would be embarrassing if he didn’t love you as much as he did.

you grazed your fingers over his tip, gathering the pre that had begun to form, and slathering it across the rest of his length. you felt his neck tense against you as he swallowed. a wet shlick sounded through the room as you stroked him. leon breathed into your neck, warmth spreading through your body and spiking at your core. he was so needy. so perfect. your free hand rubbed at his chest, massaging the solid muscle beneath his shirt in time with your strokes. leon was trembling.

“how are you doing, handsome?” you whispered into his hair, smelling his shampoo; rich, warm, soft, like home.

“mmm.” he groaned, a deep rumbling reverberating from his chest, grinding his hips into your hand. “good, huh?” you giggled, grabbing a handful of his pec and speeding up your strokes. leon exhaled, twitching in your grip.

“god, you’re going to kill me, sweetheart.” he mumbled, biting his lip. his skin was on fire. your strokes were producing pornographically wet sounds, he was leaking like a faucet. the hand that had been playing with his chest moved to the top of his head, running fingers through his hair. leon’s eyes rolled into the back of his head at the onslaught of sensation. he swears he could cum just from you running your fingers down the back of his neck.

he was close. you were altering your strokes, gripping at his tip, applying pressure just underneath the head. just the way he adored. his canting hips were beginning to tremble, thighs shaking. you gripped his hair in your fingers. not too tight but tight enough to turn his head gently towards you. his blue eyes were fogged with pleasure, eyebrows furrowed in a plea. you kissed his swollen lips, licking his teeth, making him moan. his hand on your knee moved down to your calf, gripping your flesh harder.

“i’m gonna-“ leon whimpered into your mouth, capturing your lips in another kiss. you smiled, running your hand from his hair to his jaw, caressing the stubble there.

“fuck.”

“let go, i’ve got you.” you whispered, speeding up your strokes, his dick was now pulsing in your hand. he threw his head back over your shoulder, hips lifting off of the couch and fucking into your fist. harsh pants left his parted lips as he succumbed to you, letting the coil in his abdomen snap with a grunt. spurts of cum splattered all over the both of you, some of it reaching the column of leon’s neck. your hand was wet, covered in his cum, as you continued stroking him through his orgasm, letting him ride the wave until his hips were twitching frantically from overstimulation.

“fuck, too much.” he whimpered, his hand flying to grip your wrist. you hummed, ceasing your movements. next time, then. because tonight was about pleasing him, letting him relax after a long mission. a proper welcome home.

“i missed you so fucking much.” he panted into your neck, pressing his lips against your pulse, committing to memory that you’re alive. that he’s not dreaming. that he’s in your arms, in your home. he’s not dead, and you’re not left alone, wondering where he is.

————————————————————————

ok, so i’m lit just horny for sub leon kennedy and wanted some domestic fluff sprinkled in there. sorry for any spelling mistakes, grammar mistakes, etc, was writing this with one hand 🥰

the sheets of your bed are rumpled, heated. leon's licking into your mouth, nipping your lips and caressing the side of your face. you moan softly, moving your hand beneath his shirt and massaging his abdomen, feeling his muscles twitch at your touch. he sighs, pulling back to take a breath. a string of saliva webs between you and breaks.

leon's eyes are lidded, blue irises all warmed up. reddened cheeks and the flush traversing up his neck making him look like an angel sent from above just for you. your eyes move from mole to mole, your hand still massaging into his skin beneath his shirt, while your other hand thumbs his cheek. he looks at you through his lashes, lips red and swollen from your kisses and bites. you press your forehead to his, sharing your heat. he rubs his thumb against your bottom lip, moving his hand to your jaw. your breaths are slowing, mingling in the space between you. you move back a bit, pressing a kiss to the tip of his nose. he scrunches his face and you both giggle. everything with him is so easy, flows so smoothly. you go back in, pressing another kiss to his cheekbone, then the edge of his lip. you continue leaving little, wet kisses all over his face, till he's - somehow - redder than he was before. you move to his ear, nibbling on the lobe and breathing in his fresh scent. the body soap he always uses, and his leftover cologne from the day.

"baby." he whispers, his breath hitching. you feel his abs twitch again, and something hard presses into your hip. you smile, teeth bared like a vixen.

"what is it, honey?"

he digs his hands into your shirt, groaning, leaning his head back and exposing his neck. you grab his jaw, squeezing his cheeks together and making him pout his lips. he whines and you chuckle at his behaviour. so desperate.

you lick up the column of his neck, then press kisses beneath his jaw. he makes a noise, squeezing your waist.

"you're so sweet." you whisper, continuing to cover his skin in more kisses. "so perfect for me, lee."

"mmh." leon hums, moving his hands into your hair. not leading you, just holding, like he needs to make sure you're real. that you're actually there with him.

you raise your head, studying his face. the sight of his flushed cheeks and utter adoration in his eyes giving you butterflies.

"my sweetheart." you whisper, eyes flitting to his lips. you see him do the same before moving his hand to the back of your head and pressing your lips together. you spend the rest of the night tangled together until neither of you can keep your eyes open.

wrote this in less than an hour, sorry for the messiness

btw, i'm working on making a masterlist but until then, if you want to see more of my works, open my tags and click #cursivevmwrites

it was always like this.

first, the late text.

“i’m landing in an hour”

then, the heavy knock on your door near midnight.

recently you’d started waiting. didn’t answer immediately, just sat in your living room, curled up, frozen. trying to see if you could will the excitement away. if you could let him leave.

this arrangement was fine. or it used to be. you and leon had always had a push and pull. like magnets inching towards one another, clinging and unable to let go once they made contact.

you swirled the wine in your glass, watching the liquid whirl around the center, before a knock sounded, again. an exasperated sigh making its way through the wood. you downed the rest and stood up, the floor cold beneath your feet. unlike other nights, unlike the last two years, you didn’t check your appearance in the mirror. the lock unlatched with a click and the door opened to reveal a very tired leon. hair rumpled, dark under eyes, a stubble. he was still in his gear. you shivered at the scent of his cologne. clean, sharp, cold.

his tired eyes met yours, blue orbs storming like the sea.

“what took you so long?” he asked, voice heavy. you turned in silence and walked further into the apartment, leaving him to lock and close the door behind himself. he checked the lock, twice, even after hearing it click.

“when are you gonna listen to me and get more locks? just one is risky.”

he took his boots off at the entrance, leaving them next to his duffel and taking off his jacket. you were tipsy, felt the alcohol surge through you as you bent down to retrieve the thrice emptied wine glass. he watched you, contemplating, arms crossed, as you sauntered into the kitchen. placing the glass in the sink, you gripped the edge of the counter, willing yourself to still. you were tired of this. tired was actually an understatement. yet you still needed him, as much as you hated yourself for it.

leon wasn’t a dick. not outwardly, not ever. yet, everything he did hurt you. you couldn’t understand it, why you cared so much about his absences. why you missed him. why you even hated him. when you turned, he was there, rough hands unbelievably gentle, as always, on your skin, grasping your bicep.

“we don’t have to, not tonight.” he stated, so quiet it was almost a whisper. your stomach coiled at the thought of him leaving, of him never coming back. you reached out a trembling hand, placing it around the back of his neck, and pulled him into a searing kiss. right in the middle of your messy kitchen.

it had been weeks, seventeen days that you’d counted, since you’d last seen him. since you’d last touched him, felt his lips on yours, his skin to your skin. he sighed into your mouth, hands instinctively going to their place on your hips, letting you pull him harder against your body, subconsciously trying to meld together. every bit of you was moulded to his touch. the kiss was surprisingly soft. there was heat but there was also something heavier that you couldn’t place. your hand caressed his nape while his ran up and down your lower back beneath your sleep shirt, tracing delicate patterns into your skin. as if you were something to him. something important. you screwed your eyes shut even tighter, pulling at his hair. he groaned, licking your bottom lip and pulling back. his forehead stuck to yours, breathing into your mouth, stealing every bit of air that you tried to take in. when you opened your eyes you realised he was staring at you, hands still holding on as though you’d flee if he let go. he swallowed, closing his eyes, then pulled away completely. your skin went cold at the loss of contact.

“you’re drunk, and tired.” he whispered.

“stay.” the word left your mouth, breathy, your brain only catching up once it had already reached leon’s ears.

god, you were pathetic. why had you said that. you didn’t want him to stay. you wanted him to-

“okay.” he agreed, leaning against the counter. he looked…

perfect. but, he was right. you were too tired. you hiccuped. and definitely too drunk.

“not for sex, just.” need you. the words stayed in your mind, each letter burning itself deeper into your soul. he nodded, leaving you in the kitchen with your thoughts. what the two of you had was inexplicable. friends. best friends, even. you knew each other, inside and out. knew each other more than anyone else did, more than anyone else could even get close to. leon was quiet, that’s why this all surprised you so much. when you’d met each other all those years ago, there were sparks. it had been a night in a dim bar, being introduced by mutual friends, and you’d felt it. felt it everytime you searched for him and saw that he’d already found you.

you turned off all the lights and dragged yourself to your bedroom. the bed was unmade, empty and half-empty cups and glasses littered the nightstands on both sides. you couldn’t bring yourself to care, stepping over the heap of clothes you’d left on the floor. you settled under the covers, nuzzling your pillow, and listened to leon move around in the darkness of your apartment. brushing his teeth, unbuckling his belt, folding his clothes, putting on fresh ones. he came into your bedroom, moving through the darkness with ease, and climbed in next to you. once he settled, on his back with his hands on his chest, your breaths synced. you both stared at the ceiling, the streetlights outside casting dancing shadows. the silence would be deafening if it weren’t him. you were about to drift off, eyes dry and heavy, when he spoke.

“are you okay?”

the question triggered something in you, bringing hot tears to your waterline. you swallowed, taking a shaky, deep breath.

“i should be asking you.”