Future Dr. BladeStar

Tonight the rule could go fuck itself.

The bar had been one of those hole-in-the-wall joints near the old D.S.O. training grounds: dim lights, sticky tables, the kind of place where no one asked questions and everyone pretended they weren’t carrying ghosts in their jackets. Chris Redfield had bought the first round. Jill Valentine the second. Claire had matched them shot for shot until she started laughing too loud at things that weren’t funny. And Leon—Leon had kept pace because saying no felt like admitting something he wasn’t ready to admit.

Now the apartment was spinning in slow, nauseating circles.

He sat on the edge of their bed like a man waiting for execution, elbows on knees, head hanging. The room smelled faintly of you (something soft and floral that always made the back of his neck relax) and underneath it, the sharp stink of bourbon sweat clinging to his shirt. His tie was long gone. Somewhere between the third bar and the Uber ride home it had disappeared, probably sacrificed to Claire’s ongoing war against “government choke chains.”

You knelt in front of him, patient as ever.

You were still in the black jeans and fitted baby tee you’d worn to the bar. You looked like you belonged in a briefing room or a gun range. Not here, playing nursemaid to your idiot boyfriend who couldn’t handle his liquor anymore.

“Shoes first,” you murmured, fingers already working the laces of his combat boots.

Leon tried to help. His hands felt like they belonged to someone else—clumsy and pathetically slow. He fumbled once, twice, then gave up and let his palms rest on your shoulders instead. The warmth of your skin bled through the cotton. Grounded him. Made the room tilt less violently.

“You’re pathetic tonight, Kennedy,” you said, not unkindly. One boot came free with a dull thud against the hardwood. You tugged the second one off more gently, like you were afraid of jarring him.

“Tell me somethin’ I don’t know, love,” he slurred. His voice sounded wrecked and with something embarrassingly needy underneath it all.

You snorted softly. “You’re lucky I like pathetic man.”

Your fingers moved to his belt next. Metal clinked. Leather whispered through the loops. You didn’t rush, didn’t tease the way you sometimes did when you were both sober, horny and playing games. Tonight you were careful. Methodical. Like you were disarming a live explosive.

Which, in a way, you kind of were. The, Leon Kennedy, live explosive.

Leon’s breath hitched when your knuckles grazed the front of his jeans—purely accidental—and his cock gave an immediate, traitorous twitch. Heat crawled up his neck. He was half-hard in seconds, aching in a way that had nothing to do with dignity and everything to do with the fact that you were touching him. Taking care of him. Undressing him like he was something precious instead of the walking disaster he knew he was.

He should’ve been embarrassed. But unfortunately, he wasn't at all. He was fucking hard for it.

And had you noticed that, your eyes flicked up to his face, one brow arching in that way that always made his stomach flip. “Seriously? Right now?”

“Please, don't...” he muttered, closing his eyes, feeling the tips of his ears instantly getting a few degrees warmer. “... don’t fuckin’ say it, love.”

“Say what?” Your voice had gone lower, velvet-edged. Teasing him even now. “That you’re sitting here drunk off your ass with a boner because I’m taking your shoes off?”

“Christ, babe.... That sounds worse when said out loud." he murmurs, a somewhat pathetic smile trying to find its way across the corner of his mouth. Even he was finding it a little bit amusing now.

You laughed softly and tugged the belt free completely, dropping it onto the floor with the rest of his dignity. Then your hands were on his thighs, steadying yourself as you rose to your knees between his spread legs. He could smell the faint tequila on your breath.

“You’re such a slut when you’re wasted,” you whispered, almost fond. But he knew better.

Leon groaned and dropped his forehead against yours. “Yeah. I know. Heard that from you before.”

Your fingers slid up, slow, tracing the line of buttons on his shirt. One by one you worked them open, exposing skin still damp with sweat. When you reached the last one you didn’t pull the fabric apart right away. You just rested your palms flat against his chest, feeling the unsteady thud of his heart.

“You scared me for a second back there,” you admitted, softer now. Then you lets out a little amused laugh. “Thought you were gonna puke in the hallway.”

“Still might.”

“Don’t you dare, Leon Kennedy.” you exclaim, pinching his cheeks to emphasize the reprimand. (You've always had this "phobia" of people vomiting, and Leon knew it. You told him about it on your first real date; he initially found it a little funny but also... endearing? In a weird way. Nowadays you just joke around about it. It wasn't a big deal, for you, anyway.)

He huffed a laugh that turned into a wince when the room lurched again. “Sorry. ’M sorry, love.”

“Hey.” you cupped his jaw, thumb brushing the stubble under his lip. “Stop apologizing. You’re allowed to get drunk once in a while. You’re allowed to be a mess. Humans do that."

“Not like this. 'M feel so dumb right now. Like a fucking drunken clown.”

"That's just bullshit, and you know, Kennedy."

Leon opened his eyes. Your face was inches from his—pupils blown wide. You looked at him the way you looked at targets through a scope: focused, unflinching, a little hungry but also with that tenderness that still got him, everytime.

He swallowed hard, adam's apple working overtime now that alcohol is in his system. “You shouldn’t have to—”

“For Christ sake! Stop whining, you bitch.” you kissed him before he could finish the sentence. Because that was the only truly effective move to silence a drunk Leon Kennedy.

It wasn’t gentle. It was teeth and tongue and the faint burn of liquor still on both your mouths. Leon made a broken noise into it and his hands finally moved, clumsy fingers sinking into your hair. He kissed you like a drowning man, desperate and messy and so fucking grateful you were here.

When you pulled back you were both breathing hard.

“Bed,” you ordered, already getting up to push him onto the bed.

He looked at you, still a little confused from the kiss. Puppy dog eyes kicking in. “I can’t—”

You rolled your eyes. Zero patience. “You can and you will. Lie down on the damn bed, slut boy.”

You pushed him backward—gently, but firm enough that he didn’t fight it. He landed on his back among the pillows, shirt hanging open, jeans still on, cock straining painfully against denim. You climbed over him, straddling his hips without putting any real weight down. Just enough pressure to make him hiss through his teeth.

“Look at you,” you purred, running your hands down his bare chest, nails dragging lightly enough to leave faint red lines. And the smile on your face was pure mockery. Yes, you loved being on top. “All fucked up and needy. Such a pathetic boyfriend I have. Fortunately, all mine.”

“Fuck you,” he rasped, but there was no real heat in it. Only want. And a bit of embarrassment too, in the way he immediately looked away when you said that in that tone. Somewhere deep down in his mind, he was absolutely loving all this.

You grinned—like the wicked thing you can be when you want. “Another day, baby. When you can actually stand up without falling over.”

Leon laughed despite himself. It came out ragged and with a new wave of nausea as a bonus. “You're such a bully, love... You're lucky i love you too much."

You leaned down again, slower this time and kissed the corner of his mouth... then his jaw. The pulse hammering under his ear. Every place you touched felt like a live wire. When your lips brushed the hollow of his throat he arched hips jerking up instinctively. So eager.

You pressed a hand to his stomach, pinning him down. “Easy, tiger. You’re gonna come in your pants if you keep that up.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” he muttered, resting his hands around your waist, thumbs pressing against the flesh there.

You laughed against his skin. “Yeah, I know.”

That night in Madrid after the cathedral op—both of you covered in blood, adrenaline still screaming through your veins. You’d barely made it inside the safehouse before he’d had you against the wall, jeans shoved down just enough, your legs wrapped around his waist while he fucked into you like the world was ending. Again. It had become kind of a routine for you two, like taking medicine for a headache.

He’d come embarrassingly fast that time too. You never let him live it down.

Now your fingers dipped lower, palming him through the denim. Just enough friction to make his vision white out for a second and his fingers gripped the flesh of your hips, discounting in one place what ached in the other. “Motherfucker..."

“Shhh.” you kissed him quiet. “Let me take care of you. 'kay?”

He wanted to argue. Wanted to tell you he wasn’t some damsel, that he could handle himself, that you didn’t have to— But the words died when you popped the button of his jeans and dragged the zipper down. And what he was thinking again? Pff. He don't even remember anymore.

Cool air hit overheated skin. He groaned when you wrapped your hand around him. No teasing this time. Just firm, perfect pressure. Your thumb circled the head once, smearing precome, and Leon’s hips punched up again before he could stop them.

“Jesus fucking Christ, love,” he breathed, feeling the shiver run down his spine to the tip of his cock.

“Language, agent Kennedy,” you teased, stroking him slow, His eyes never left his face because that was the best part of provoking a drunk Leon Kennedy: seeing his expressions. When he was normal? He has little to no facial expressions during sex. But when he's drunk like this? Hmm, he makes these delicious little noises and expressions that are worth more than five orgasms to you. better than the actual sex.

“Fuck language. I can't think of manners when your hand is circling my cock like this, baby.”

You laughed again and sped up just enough to make his toes curl.

He was going to come embarrassingly fast again. He could feel it building already, that tight, electric coil low in his gut. Too much whiskey, too much want, too much of your looking at him like he was worth taking care of.

“Babe... I really think I'm gonna—”

“I know.” you kissed his temple, his cheek, the corner of his eye where dampness had gathered without him realizing. All this, as gently as possible. That was his weak point. “Let go. I’ve got you, pretty boy.”

He was already almost coming when you started your little show of sweet kisses... with your simple confirmation he was one foot to explode completely.

He broke on a choked sound; back arching, thighs trembling, spilling hot over your fingers and his own stomach. Wave after wave until he was shaking, oversensitive, gasping into your hair. Easy like that.

You didn’t stop right away. Kept stroking him through it until the last tremor left him boneless against the sheets. When he finally opened his eyes again you were watching him, expression soft in a way that made his chest ache worse than the hangover already brewing.

“You’re a goddamn menace,” he mumbled.

“Takes one to know one, apparently.” you wiped your hand on his ruined pants and leaned down to kiss him slow again. Lazy make out. A reward for your work here tonight. “Now, you'll go to sleep, Kennedy,” you whispered against his lips, firm but still gentle tone.

“Yes, ma'am. As my pretty girlfriend wishes.” He dragged, a silly little smile on his lips, voice already slowing to a sleep tone. He was already fading—whiskey and orgasm dragging him under. But before the world of dreams took him completely he managed one last slurred sentence. His hand lift from your waist to caress your cheek with such a sweet tenderness, normally uncommon for a man who endured so much hardship in life.

“Love you, gorgeous.”

Your fingers carded through his dirty blonde hair, and you leaned in again, this time to place a kiss on his forehead. Innocent, yet full of meaning. “Love you too, pretty boy. Have sweet dreams.”

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No one’s said it out loud and no one will. Everyone’s afraid to jinx it. But the fact remains: it’s a slow day in RFD. 

You’re sitting on the back bumper of the firetruck and kicking your feet in the summer air as it flows in through the open garage. You’re on day two of a three-day shift, and although you’re tired, you can’t complain. You’d never complain about being bored on the job. Being bored is good, actually. It means people aren’t dying.  

So you sit there and think about all sorts of mundane things. What you’ll have for dinner, the bees that buzz in the field, last night’s lack of sleep, and the soot you still smelled on your hair. But ultimately, your thoughts wander where they always seem to lately. 

Leon Kennedy, the newest hire, formerly of RPD. He’d barely been there a year before realizing donuts and traffic stops weren’t his speed. 

“So, you were a cop?” 

That was the first thing you ever said to him. He looked up from his lunch as you grabbed a snack from the kitchen cabinet. He stumbled over his words like he was caught off guard. 

“Uh, yeah, yeah I was. Not for very long, though.”

You opened a bag of pretzels and pulled out the chair across from him, sitting back casually as you continued.

“You were still a rookie? Why’d you quit?”

He inhaled sharply and looked down at this sandwich for a moment before continuing.

“It wasn’t… what I thought it’d be.”

“What’d you think it would be?” 

He blinked a bit at the way you questioned him. It was intentional, really. You wanted to see how he’d act under a bit of gentle pressure, and it was a good way to skip the small talk. Plus you got to see that he was, in fact, as cute up close as he looked from afar. 

“I thought I’d get to help people,” he defended, a bit more sure in tone now. “Instead, I felt like I was mostly helping the Chief to… well, let’s just say our goals didn’t exactly align. Plus, I wasn’t much good. ‘Too soft-hearted,’ I’m sure they’d say.”

You studied his thinly concealed contempt and couldn’t help but smile. You knew the type since the police responded to many of the same incidents as your crew, and you picked up on the goings-on. You nearly sighed in relief that the cute new hire gave the exact answer you’d hoped for. A sign that he was different. 

You changed the subject and your tone by offering your name. Something softened as he blinked, and then he held his hand over the table.

“Leon. Leon Kennedy.”

“Nice to meet you, Leon.” You took his hand and shook it once. Solid, but not too strong, like it’d sealed you two as friends even though you’d just now met. 

You got what you wanted out of your little introductory interrogation, so you stood up to leave. Just before you were out the door, you stepped back to add one more thing.

“I bet you were a good cop,” you said and looked him up and down, nodding like you approved of your appraisal. 

“Why’s that?”

“Because good cops quit.”

His brows twitched together just so and then he let out a nervous laugh. He didn’t have anything to say, so you left to let him to roll the thought around. His buried dreams of a badge may have been too fresh in the ground for him to accept your statement now, but you had a feeling he’d understand it more and more as time went on. 

Everyone earned a nickname sooner or later, and that conversation made his obvious: Rookie. It quickly caught on. You felt a sense of pride in being the one to coin it for him. He didn’t seem to mind it either, which made you that much more chuffed. Besides, it rolled so easily off your tongue.

From that very first day, which was a month and change ago, something seemed promising about him. He was sweet and kind and never once rude, and he adjusted quickly to the unpredictable pace of the fire department. 

He even saved a cat from a tree on his first day. When the call came in, he was the obvious one to send up, and it was a story for the books. Witnessing it was hilarious and charming all at once, and everyone instantly knew he’d fit in. 

He was clearly cut out for it. He’d evidently been born with an innate sense of duty and a heart made of pure gold. Paired with undeniably good looks, cheesy humor, and natural charm, he may as well have been ripped out of a magazine. A poster-boy next door. With dreamy blue eyes to swim in and ash blond hair that blew in the wind, you were all but doomed to swoon. 

But when the sirens rang out, all that boyishness fell away. The first time you saw it was in the dead of night. 

The glowing red wall alarm was all that lit his face as he fixed the last straps of his turnout gear and barrelled towards the truck. He didn’t look anywhere but dead ahead. You saw something steadfast in him that you’d never seen in someone before. It almost made you scared. Like in another world, he’d be a sword instead of a shield.

A house fire in the suburbs. Not uncommon, but each was equally dire. You stepped out of the truck to hear a mother screaming for her daughter who was still stuck inside. 

Leon was the first to rush in. 

On blind instinct, you followed him in an instant. Your eyes darted between the blazing furniture and crumbling walls as the house became increasingly consumed with each frantic step you took. You caught a glimpse of his back before he walked straight through the fire, and then he was gone. 

You swallowed thickly as you struggled to follow him through. It wasn’t smart, but you couldn’t let him go alone. The smoke became increasingly harder to see through and the flames raged hot through your heavy suit. You heard an all too familair creak and braced for the structure to start collapsing. 

But still, there were people inside: Leon and a child. If it was already this difficult for you to get through the building, one or both of them might not make it out alive. 

You grit your teeth and ran to the best of your ability, frantically checking through every door for him or the homeowner’s child. You called his name but you could barely hear it leave your own mouth. Everything was impossibly loud. The roar of flames, the melting fire alarm that still screamed in the hall, the water falling from the fire hose outside— and then the sound of the ceiling crashing. 

You shielded yourself with your arm as beams, drywall, and insulation collected in front of your feet, the material the perfect kindling to catch. It’d cut you off from the end of the hall if you waited one second more. You didn’t. And that’s when you saw it.

You rushed through the door to see Leon kneeling in front of the child’s bed. He’d taken his mask off to talk to her. She was scared and crying and didn’t want to go with a stranger. In a total reversal of the fierceness he’d rushed in with, he was smiling and making jokes as he introduced himself. He spoke quick and to the point, but his nerves hardly showed at all.

He noticed you when he glanced over his shoulder to check on the state of the fire outside of her room. You subtly shook your head to let him know that it was fucked. Then you closed the door behind you and took your own mask off to approach.

“I see you’ve met my friend Leon,” you said to the girl, mustering your gentlest smile for her. 

“H-he’s your friend?” she asked with a sniffle.

“He is! Did he tell you he saved a cat yesterday?”

Something in the girl’s eyes lit up as she looked back at him. “Really?!”

“I did,” he replied with a laugh. “Do you have any pets?”

“No, but I reallyyy want a kitty! Mommy won’t let me even if I do all my chores.”

“Yeah? What about your dad?”

“He said he can’t have pets at his aparment.”

No pets or other people home, thank god. 

“Maybe we can convince her,” you said with a wink. “Let’s go see her. Will you let my friend Leon carry you?”

She hesitated for a moment, and then she started to cry. She was scared of going back through the house. She didn’t understand that wasn’t even an option anymore. 

Leon scooped her up and turned her away as you shattered her bedroom window. Through the sound of broken glass, you could hear him soothing her. 

“Alright, let’s—”

You were interrupted by all hell breaking loose. The fire suddenly spread from under the door then immediately climbed the walls. When it reached the ceiling, that was all it took for it to begin giving way. Embers and debris fell like snowfall around the room, and now the little girl was screaming as she clung to Leon’s coat. You locked eyes with him as he turned to rush towards you.  

If the situation was different, you would’ve flinched away. Surrounded by quickening hellfire and covered in traces of soot, the only glimmer in his eyes was the reflection of the flames that danced under his tightly knit brow. He looked like he’d kill anything that stood in the way of the child’s safety without a second thought. It was safe to assume he really would. 

Right along with how it startled you, it took your breath away. Or maybe it was the smoke. You blamed it on the smoke. 

It all moved in slow motion. The house crumbled behind him like it tried to chase him out or in a race to consume him. His jaw set as the embers fell across his back. His eyes bore into your own as his heavy steps brought him nearer. Through the roaring flames, he spoke.

“Go!”

You inhaled sharply— a mistake you ignored as you fought not to cough— and you jumped out of the window. Your heart beat in your ears as Leon leaned out of it to hand the child to you. She had a death grip on him, but you managed to rip her away.

Leon was silhouted in the window by the glow of bright orange flames whipping through the air. Your eyes widened at the thought that he might not leave unscathed. 

As if his sheer determination bent the fibers of fate, at the last moment, he climbed through. You held tightly to the girl as you pulled him up from the ground by the arm, but he shook you off as he rose, his voice barely cutting through the sound of the entire structure collapsing. 

“Go on without me, just get her to her mom, I’ll be right behind you!”

You ran as fast as you could towards the front of the house, blinking away the smoke as you followed the flashing red lights. You nearly forgot it was night from the bright fire inside. 

As you came into view, there was a palpable sigh of relief. The girl’s mom sprinted to meet you and took her from your arms in a fit of sobs and thank-yous. You shook your head as you caught your breath. 

“The credit goes to Leon—” 

You turned around, but he wasn’t there. Your heart dropped to the ground as you looked around for him. Then you saw him emerge from beside the house with something small in his hands. 

He heaved as he slowed to approach, wiping the ash from the object as best he could. “You dropped something,” he said to the girl with his gentle expression fixed back in place. 

It was a teddy bear. It must have fallen when he handed her off to you. Through teary, red eyes, the girl squealed in delight.

The mother looked at him like her heart had cracked open. Yours split open for him, too. He simply shrugged and said it was the least he could do, like he didn’t just save a life. 

“Your daughter was very brave,” he said fondly, then he found a playful tone. “She tells me she wants a cat.”

The mother’s tears were interrupted by a small laugh that almost immediately cut back to a blank stare as she looked at her burning home. Despite the fire now dying down, it’d be a total loss.

“I’m not sure when… when we’ll have…”

Leon addressed her through the child, ruffling her hair with a smile. “I bet it’ll happen sooner than you think.” 

His infectious and earnest hope was enough for the mom to hold onto. She nodded and smiled tightly through her tears, then thanked him once more and nuzzled into her child. 

You left them to have a moment alone and were greeted by proud pats on the back from your brothers, but you could only look at Leon. He’d rushed in despite the impossible odds and without a second thought. You watched him like he hung the moon. 

As the others finished up, you leaned side by side against the side of the truck, drinking water and watching the last embers die.  

“I’m impressed with you, rookie,” you said through your scratchy throat. He just shook his head.

“They lost everything. I feel like I was too late.”

That was the most shocking thing he could’ve possibly said. Like what he’d done tonight wasn’t enough to be proud of himself for. You nearly looked at him like he said the sky was green, but you caught yourself. 

“Look at them,” you said and subtly motioned to the survivors. “Her daughter is her everything. You saved a life tonight. Hell, you even saved her teddy bear.” 

You saw something desperate in his face as he watched them, like he just couldn’t convince himself it was enough. You kept going before you’d fail to resist the growing urge to shake him. “You said you wanted to help people. You did that and then some tonight.” 

His eyes locked with yours, and you saw the gears turn. The corner of his mouth twitched up into a broken smile. 

“I guess you’re right.” 

You gazed ahead until what once was a home became nothing but rubbled remains. It broke your heart too, truly. Watching people’s lives change drastically for the worse was never a pleasant thing. But somehow the young man beside pulled your thoughts to brighter things. 

“I bet you were a good cop,” you said wistfully, leaning to nudge him with your shoulder, “but you’re a great firefighter.”

This time, when you locked eyes, something in them melted together. You couldn’t be sure, but through the flashing emergency lights, you thought you caught something familiar and warm within them. It broke in sheepish smiles— he must have felt it, too.

“I was a shit cop. I was late on my first day.”

“Are you serious?”

Your jaw dropped, but he wasn’t kidding. You both broke into a fit of laughs as he told the story, and from then on, you were tied at the hip.

You always found excuses to be in the same room and join in on group conversations, even if you talked about nothing at all. He was just so easy to be around, how could you not seek him out? 

Plus, he’d piqued your curiosity. You were still searching his eyes for that glint of whatever had overtaken them that night in the house fire. You never quite found it, though, at least not for a long while. 

You could feel it there on calls, but it was always hidden away behind the helmets, masks, and shrouds, or obscured by thick clouds of smoke. Even without them, he was so quick to jump into duty that you didn’t have time to stare much when lives were on the line. 

The way you searched for it made you notice other little things about him. His tousled hair when the helmets came off. How his blue eyes were especially bright and clear when his face was covered in muck. His tongue poking out when he was focused, the places on his jaw he always nicked when he shaved, how he looked in the dim blue of moonlight. All of them made your heart skip.

God, he was really attractive. It was safe to say you had it bad. 

It didn’t help that three-day shifts meant being there for everything. Your lungs seized when you first saw him in the morning, all tired eyes and fresh bedhead. You had to listen to him grunt when the guys invited him to lift weights, egging him on to do ‘just one more’ until he failed, their own way of passing the time. 

And the sight of him after a shower? The way the dampness clung to his muscles while he walked around before it dried? It was downright difficult to bear. It made you wonder who decided men being shirtless was socially acceptable, and you hoped they were burning in hell, because with Leon, it was borderline pornographic. 

It baffled you. You worked around men every day in all their shameless glory, so you hardly bat an eye at it anymore. You were very used to being around fit, shirtless men, but you’d never cared to let your gaze linger on any of your other coworkers before. Firefighters weren’t your type. So what gives? 

But that was before Leon. Now you had to steal your breath and look away while praying to god no one caught onto the flush flooding your face. 

He wasn’t even excessively ripped, but that’s precisely what made it so obscene. Every divot where muscle met fat was somewhat subtle; obviously strong, but not in a way that overtook him. It hinted at how he’d look with a few more years of training. It made the sight all the more suggestive, and you clung on to every stolen glance like you hung on to his every word. 

And with the culture of your station, you had a lot to hang on to. There’d been a long-standing culture of ‘anything goes,’ and everyone was eager to get the new guy in on it and peel back his sweet exterior. You walked into the kitchen one evening to find him at the center of their ribbing. 

“Come onnn, tell us!” 

“Ooh, what if it’s bad?”

“Jesus, there’s a lady present now,” Leon said through a blushing laugh. 

You held your breath when, as you expected, he was met with rolling eyes. 

“Don’t look at me,” you threw over your shoulder as you got a plate of dinner. “Whatever they’re asking, I’m sure I’ve divulged worse.”

You chuckled as he realized you wouldn’t bail him out. It was true, after all. You weren’t excluded from crude conversations in sensitivity to your sex; no one censored themselves for your sake. You wouldn’t have it any other way, despite how it often made you cringe. You liked working somewhere that anything went; you never had to shy away from speaking your mind, and it made the firehouse feel like family. A weird one with a few screws loose, sure, but what family isn’t?

You took your plate and pulled out a chair to watch the scene as you ate. 

“Okay, okay, fine,” Leon started and rubbed his hands over his face. “I lost it at seventeen...”

The sound of everyone’s reactions hid the way you choked at the mere knowledge that he’s had sex. 

“...in the back of my first car.”

He got pats on the back and further questions, and all you could think about was his jeep in the parking lot. 

“Was she hot?”

“Were you dating?”

“She use teeth?”

His nose scrunched as he brushed them off. “Come on, guys, I’m not just talking about myself here, that’s someone else’s private life, too.”

Damn it, what a good guy. It seemed to disarm them, too. 

“You’re holding out on us now, but there’s a dirty cop in there, I know it.”

That sent your mind spiraling down endless possibilities, and suddenly, you had to know. 

The butterflies turned into something that burned when he came around. You stoked the flames of your budding friendship with something that simmered below your skin, and the dirty jokes that proliferated the station became something you utilized. 

“We’re gonna circle the block,” Leon said after a morning of truck maintenance, “you wanna go for a ride?”

“Damn, Kennedy, take me to dinner first.”

The way he floundered over his next words looked way too good on him. What looked even better was his sly grin when he started returning the jokes in kind. 

You were tending to the weeds one day in the searing summer sun. His shirt had already become a sweat rag by the time you took your first water break.

“Where’d you get that scar?” you asked as your face settled on his pec. It was hard not to; with your heights, you were face-to-face with it. 

“My eyes are up here, you know.”

He looked down at you with an easy smirk before taking a long, cool drink of water. It was your turn to get flustered as you watched the sweat drip down his jaw. 

He started occupying your every thought. So like any reasonable adult trying to rationalize their romantic feelings, you started weighing the pros and cons. You had tough luck finding any of the latter.

He checked every box you had for a partner and a few more you hadn’t even considered before. He was big-hearted, kind, polite— incredibly selfless and easy on the eyes. Capable, strong, and eager to raise the bar. The kind of guy who basically begged to be brought home to the parents. 

You didn’t even mind the smell of his dirty clothes, which you happened to smell a lot since you had such a physical job. The thought alone made you dig your nails into your face. You thought your days of yearning were over, but no, you’d fallen for him so hard that you felt like you were the butt of a looney tunes bit. 

You were only soothed by being pretty sure it was mutual. He always stood a little closer than he had to, gave you his full attention, and returned your bashful banter. He didn’t shy away from opportunities for a little physical touch. You just didn’t know what to do about it. You were afraid of making a fool out of yourself. 

You relieved yourself of the pressure by deciding he’d have to make the first move, but that didn’t make you any less impatient for it. You were a little worried he’d be too shy to, actually. You reminded yourself that in all this time, only a month and change had gone by.

“Mind if I join you?”

The voice of the very man on your mind made you blink back to the now, and you looked up to see Leon striding towards you.

“Sure,” you said and scooted over so he could join, acting like you weren’t just thinking the most embarrassing things about him. You didn’t miss that he sat a little closer than he had to. “You just as bored as me?”

“A little bit, but I can’t complain.” 

You nodded knowingly. A slow day meant safe citizens, and boredom is a price you’d happily pay for that any day. 

But with the way you’d been thinking about him while you were off in a daydream, you were at a loss as to how to start a real conversation. You swallowed as you shifted and felt your sleeve brush against his. 

“What were you thinking about?”

You inhaled deeply to buy yourself time to think. Of course he’d ask you that. 

“Nothing, just uh, you know. Life and stuff, I guess.”

He gave you a quizzical look before huffing out a soft laugh, following your gaze that was fixed on the clouds outside. 

“Right.”

God, were you really that see-through? He didn’t buy it for a minute. You jumped to defend yourself.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he said. “You’re just cute.”

Your head shot up to look at him, wide-eyed and lips parted before you broke into a blush. You couldn’t hold his gaze, and he couldn’t quite keep yours either as he bit his lip and looked away. 

“You think I’m cute,” you simply stated, letting the fact solidify. 

“I do.” 

“Are you just letting me know? Or are you gonna do something about it?” 

You looked at him and felt anticipation flutter in your chest as his gaze darted between your mouth and your eyes. Without a moment’s hesitation, he took you in a kiss. 

It was firm and sweet, one hand cradling your face and the other grazing your arm as his plush lips melted against yours. You pressed into him, letting your trembling hands glide up his chest and around his arms, feeling the muscles that’ve captured your curiosity for weeks. Warm and solid and strong, and everything you’d hoped for. 

You were both breathless when he pulled away, though he hardly removed himself. Your hands remained where they were as you exchanged nervous, elated smiles, flushed faces still inches away. 

“Was that okay?” he breathed. With his voice hardly above a whisper, it brought out a lower timbre, rumbling straight to your desire. You answered by kissing him back. 

Your pent-up desires showed through as you pulled your bodies closer together, tugging the front of his shirt to deepen the kiss, letting the tips of your tongues brush before you pushed yours into his mouth. 

It became something intense at the drop of a hat. Wet lips and roaming hands swirled together like you were made for each other, like this held a more divine purpose than just making out with your crush, like it fulfilled something innate that’d lain dormant in you both. 

Or maybe just a mutual biological instinct. Yeah, definitely that. 

The lowest grumble reverberated in his throat. It would’ve been imperceptible if your tongue wasn’t down it, but it was, and it drove you nuts. So much that you fucking whined.

As brief as a sound as it was, you were immediately embarrassed, but he didn’t leave you the option to wallow in it. He took the nape of your neck with one hand and the small of your spine with the other, pulling you in just enough to make your back arch and bring you further in. 

Your heart thumped in your ears as you realized you were coming on too hot and heavy way too quickly. You were in the middle of work for the love of god, not behind the bleachers at a high school football game. You and Leon both showed nerves in your unsteady hands, as desperate as they were, a sign that you should pump the brakes until you can think straight. But you didn’t want to stop. 

As if god decided for you, the sirens blared for the first time that day. 

You jumped apart and looked around wild-eyed at the sudden change, hearts pounding like you’d been caught. When you realized you hadn’t been, you laughed breathlessly as you tried to collect yourself in the few seconds to spare.

 He wiped his lips with the back of his hand and stood, kicking into gear despite his head still spinning. “C’mon,” he said as he walked backwards, shooting you a bashful grin. 

You couldn’t help but return it as you saw his pink nose and lips from where your face rubbed against his. You fought your shaky legs as you jogged to follow him. 

It was a simple call; a car crash with no injuries, thankfully. You would’ve hated for your first kiss with Leon to be followed by a dreadful scene.

As you stood beside the truck putting equipment back to leave, someone brushed against your shoulder as they passed by. You whipped your head around to see Leon smiling as he looked back. You bit your lip as you worked again. 

Back at the station, time dragged on. Some played cards while others talked, and someone bumped music in the garage. You, however, had your mind set on one thing and one thing only. You feigned a casual pace as you walked around trying to seek it out. It was good luck that you ran into him in the hall with no one else around.

“Hey,” you said to get his attention since he was walking the other way. He turned around and came up to you instantly.

“Hey,” he breathed, that bashful grin of his returning. It was so cute the way he fixed his posture and ran a hand through his hair at the sight of you. He cleared his throat before speaking again.

“Quick question,” you started. He nodded like he was worried about what you’d say. “Can I get your number?”

He perked up and pulled his phone from his pocket, quickly flipping it open to take down yours, too. You leaned against the wall as you punched in the digits, texting him your name to quicken the exchange. He grinned as he closed his, but you stopped him with a hand on his wrist.

“Wait,” you said. He furrowed his brows and he did, joining where you leaned on the wall with his phone in one hand and the other in his pocket. You pressed send and watched him as you both waited for it to reach him. 

It buzzed in his hand. He blinked as he read it and then read it again. You raised an eyebrow when he looked to you like he thought he must misunderstand. You quickly shook your head, and then he nodded yes. 

It read:

wna kill time 2gether? I know a pvt spot ;)

He practically skipped behind you as you darted through the halls, careful to avoid anyone spotting you before you slipped into a closet. The overhead light was dim but just bright enough to see him, a narrow room that promised to keep you within a reachable distance. 

Once it clicked shut, you wasted no time before pulling him down by his t-shirt. He didn’t hesitate to devour you. 

You wrapped your arms around his neck as your tongues danced together with all the passion that’d been cut short before. Two hands on your waist brought you chest to chest as he stepped into your space, backing you against the unforgiving shelves. You didn’t care; if anything, it gave you reason to keen into him. 

It wasn’t rushed, but it was increasingly deep as the air became hot and heavy. You slid your palms down his sides until you felt the skin under the lower hem. He was so warm and soft, you stood no chance not to let your touch travel underneath it. Your breath hitched as you felt his abs flex as his hands roamed in turn, firmly cupping your hips and then your ass when you drove them into him.

Oh, shit, you thought as he gripped your rear and urged you to grind a hair further in. He’s hard. And he’s big. 

Was having your first sexual contact on the same day as your first kiss the best idea? Maybe not. You really liked him. You didn’t want to categorize this as friends-with-benefits. And you were at work. At your very important job with very big responsibilities. 

Did you want him more than you cared about all that? Yeah. Right now, you did. 

He pulled away in a puff of pants as his hips stuttered against your zipper. You leaned in and bit your lips as you watched his brows knit and waited for him to speak. 

“We don’t… we don’t have to do anything, that’s not why I kissed you.”

You breathed a laugh at how cute he was and his earnest reassurance despite the sizeable strain in his pants. “I know,” you whispered and rubbed against him again, “you kissed me because you think I’m cute.”

The way he broke out into a flustered smile was so fucking adorable to you.

“I do think you’re cute. But that’s not why. I did it because I like you.”

“I like you too,” you cooed, and then, “Do you think I’m just cute?”

The cocktail of emotions made both your heads spin enough to encourage you to keep clinging together. He groaned low in his throat as the wheels turned, and the sound went straight to your core. 

He pressed his forehead against yours, and there it was again. That fierce gaze through his brow that you’d been dying to see again. How was his face such a turn on? You didn’t need to know the answer, you just knew how it made you feel. Like he could devour you if you wanted him to, and you very much did.

“No,” he rasped, looking dead in your eyes, “I think you’re a lot more than just cute.” 

With a gnashing, fervent speed, your mouths collided again, and your touches were well past exploratory. They had more purpose now, to get clothes out of the way as quickly and efficiently as possible. 

The first to go was his shirt, your kiss breaking as he yanked it over his head, giving you enough time to marvel at his form. You pulled yours off next just to pull your skin flush with his, your bra flying off without time spent to unclasp it. You palmed him through his jeans as you pulled at his belt, leaving it dangling open for when he’d have to redress.

He stifled a groan by taking your breast into his mouth as you squeezed the outline of his cock. You shivered as his tongue circled the nub of your hardening nipple, suctioning and lapping and flicking like he couldn’t get enough. You squeezed your thighs together to get some kind of relief as the onslaught increased the electricity between your legs. 

He fixed his mouth on the other side, giving both of your breasts equal treatment. He got your pants out of the way first, letting them collect under your ass along with your panties, and immediately set his fingers to work.

You whined as his middle finger parted you and ran up and down between your folds, collecting your slick around your entrance and dragging it across your clit.

You fumbled to pull him out of his boxers, but his curled posture to keep your tit in his mouth kept him just out of your reach, only close enough for your fingers to feather him. You hooked a finger into his belt loop to pull them closer, and he rose with a soft pop as your nipple left the suction of his mouth. 

Your eyes went back and forth between each of your hands, finding it difficult not to ogle at his flexing arm as it craned to curl into your cunt, but you were still eager to see the big door prize.

He chuckled at the sound you made as you tried hard to pull his pants down, growing increasingly frustrated as they clung to him. Finally, he did it for you, watching your face for your reaction as he revealed himself. 

Your mouth parted at the sight of him springing free, the waistband of his briefs and jeans settling under his balls to prop it up. It probably needed it; it looked heavy. Long and thick and pink at the tip, with a deliciously thick vein running up the side of it. Not big enough to make you scared, but enough to make you drool and your eyes sparkle like you’d hit the fucking jackpot, because you were very certain you did. 

His cheeks were red when you met his gaze that’d been fixed on your reaction, a parted smile with a little shyness and subtle smugness underneath, like he had a feeling he was gifted in the groin but he wasn’t entirely sure. 

Like he wanted to draw more reactions from you, he pushed his finger sharply inside your center. You gasped at the sudden feeling and held onto his arms as he moved to stand closer again, his free hand wrapping around the base of his cock to slowly pump himself, his tip settling against your stomach. You immediately replaced it with your own, swiping his away with disapproval. Jerking him off was a task that you simply wouldn’t allow him to rob you of.  

You both turned into a steady stream of subdued moans and twitching hips as you leaned into each other’s touch. You threaded your hands into his dark blond hair as he peppered kisses onto your collarbone and sucked at the valley just south of your ear. You relished the high-pitched noise he made when you circled his pre smoothly around his tip with your thumb, and the rasping groan of relief when you pumped your fist down. 

Just as your hand found a rhythm he bucked into, he took a step away so you couldn’t properly reach him, his own fingers withdrawing to rub his fingertips over your clit. You pouted as you reached for him in a borderline petulant way.

He looked at the closet door. “We gotta be quick, yeah?” 

You groaned at the reminder of where you were and sighed because he was right.

You expected him to turn you around so he could put it in— which you would’ve happily done— but you didn’t expect what he did instead.

He plunged two fingers inside of you as he sank down to his knees, his free hand spreading the front of your lips to find where to delve his tongue against your clit.

“Oh, holy fuck, Leon,” you mewled as he got to work, his tongue tracing slippery laps back and forth against the bundle of nerves while he let his fingers pumped knuckle deep, stopping every so often to curl against your inner walls. 

He sucked your clit into his mouth and let go with a small wet sound. “Gotta make you cum first, yeah?”

He looked back up at you as his tongue went in again, and you could’ve turned into a puddle right then and there. Your slick painted the cleft of his chin and his blue eyes shone in the muted light, his shoulders much more thick and prominent at the overhead angle as he pumped his dick between his legs. 

He wanted you to get off first, and he was getting himself off to it. You really did hit the jackpot. 

You couldn’t help yourself; he looked so pretty on his knees, you just had to hold his head. As soon as you did, he hummed, and you rocked into the low vibrato. He pushed his mouth firmly against you and you took the hint, if that’s what it was, and grinded smoothly into his face. His hands worked you and him faster alike, and fuck, he hummed more again.

How the hell was he so good at this? The answer didn’t matter as he plunged his fingers deeper in. You were losing it, knees buckling with each wet flick against your clit, and you were all but riding his face as your back dug against the shelving.

“Leon, I’m— oh my god—“

He broke off to rush out, “that’s right, cum on my fucking face,” before he latched on again. 

The few seconds away was all it took for your pleasure to jolt through you tenfold when he returned, and now his flexing fingers served to coax you through a trembling release. You bit the back of your hand to ride it out and muffle your clammoring whines. 

He flattened his tongue to lap it up as his palm began to hold your cream, every drop of which he licked away the second it trickled down. “You taste so fucking good,” he mumbled in between licks, and then his hands both steadily slowed down before he stood and pulled them out. 

He held firmly around the base of his shaft as he took you in a kiss, one you met with no care for the slick on his tongue and chin. He grunted into it as you wrapped your hand around him again, guiding it down to rub the tip into the wetness between your legs. 

He broke off and moaned as he rested his head against your shoulder. You felt him try and fail not to rut into you. You were trying to make it obvious you wanted more, but he wasn’t so sure.

“It’s alright if I don’t get off, don’t worry about me.”

Ah, so that selflessness did carry into the bedroom. He already proved that, but now he’d spoken it, and you felt like he’d more than earned it. 

You pulled him off by the hair and turned around, bracing your hands against the shelves and arching back with a small wiggle of your ass in the air. He inhaled sharply behind you as he took in the sight with a hesitant hand on your hip. You smiled at him over your shoulder.

“C’mon, rookie, put it in.”

He was helpless to resist. He nudged his tip in between your folds and slowly pushed his way in.

He barely got past the head before he retracted it, savoring the friction as he sank in again an inch further. Your toes curled in your boots and his fingers dug into the meat of your ass as he tried to keep his composure. Through half-lidded eyes peering over your shoulder, you saw his brows knit as he studied the sight of each steady thrust in and out. 

It felt incredible to you. He was only halfway in, and that much alone might easily be the best dick of your life. His girth elicited a dull aching stretch around your entrance, but not enough to hurt— in fact it felt unbelievably good. Even better was the way he filled out your inner walls, and you swore you could feel him throbbing inside of you. Or maybe that was your own arousal pumping as his pace felt too much like a tease.

You pushed back into him, walls fluttering around the additional inch the action gave, every part of you begging for more. He hissed in surprise, then took the hint. 

He pulled back and then smacked his hips forward, and all at once, he was buried to the hilt. He groaned thickly as his head tipped back, eyes squeezed tight and biting his lip at the feeling. 

“You… are so fucking tight.” 

You tried to rut into him so he’d move, but he just held you there in a heap of heavy breathing.

“M’not gonna last long if you keep doing that,” he said in a nearly whiny plea. 

Your hands dug into the shelving and you hung your head. His cock kept prodding at your sweet spot with his shallow movements, and it was driving you fucking insane. 

“I don’t care, just, ahh, please move, need more.” 

And well, Leon wasn’t one to say no to a lady. He grumbled as he accepted his fate of cumming way too quick, and gave into just how badly he wanted to fuck you through the wall, too. 

If you thought he felt good before, you weren’t at all prepared for the sensation of him pummeling in and out, hips smacking solidly against your ass, his big hands pulling you to meet each firm thrust. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as it bobbed with every movement, keening even more as his hand grasped your bouncing tit. 

“Jesus fucking christ,” he growled through his teeth. “Should see how wet you are, baby, you look so goddamn good on my cock.” 

So there is a dirty cop in there. That was your last coherent thought.

He widened his stance and angled his hips up as if he knew it’d send him hammering into your g-spot with every heavy thrust. When he pinched your nipple absentmindedly, you saw stars on the closet walls, while his other hand wrapped around your stomach to roughly rub around your clit. 

It was like he came pre-programmed with a sixth sense for how to make you fall apart, making it increasingly hard to stay quiet. Your throat felt thick from holding it in, each sound escaping on its own accord, coming out in wanton mewls and rasps. It’d be embarrassing if he wasn’t also a constant stream of primal grunts and perfervid groans, low and gravelly behind the teeth he tried to keep them trapped behind. 

He sucked a wet kiss onto your shoulder as his hand rubbed your cunt with less finesse. “Give me another, baby, you can do it.” 

A teasing slap on your clip sent you reeling right over the edge. 

He leaned back to fuck you roughly through it, hands steadying you by the waist and savoring the way you tightened up. You sputtered lewdly as it roared through you, only half succeeding in holding your breath to stay quiet. His name broke out of you much too loud, and his hips cracked against you without care— it was nigh impossible for either of you to think of the consequences as your walls tightened around him, bringing on his orgasm as he fucked you through your own. 

His voice broke as he hunched over you, sweat dripping from his forehead onto your back, hands gripping tightly to the shelves on either side of your own.

He coarsely spoke, each word increasing with urgency.

“Where, where, where?” 

He pulled out as you spun around and sank down to your knees, whining when you tasted yourself as you encased your mouth around him. With his index and his thumb he pumped himself one, two, three times, and then—

“Hey!”

You gasped— a mistake that nearly made you choke on his cum— as the door handle turned open. 

In one swift motion, he pivoted to shield you with his body, his hands tight in your hair to keep you fixed to him as he turned his back to the door, twisting his arm behind him to shove it shut. Your eyes were wide in the mix of fear and thrill as rope after rope of cum landed on your tongue before you swallowed down the evidence, Leon stuttering under the breath expletives with dual meanings as his hips bucked jerkily into your face. 

“Fuck, shit, goddammit, ahh…”

Your fingers seared into his hips as you took it, and you thought for a moment you should stop, but what were you supposed to do? Let go and leave covered with it? Let it fall all over your face instead? 

Maybe another time. 

He pulled you off with a hiss the second he was done, still shaking with aftershocks as he pulled you up from the ground, already yanking his bottoms back over himself before tossing your shirt up to you from the floor. 

“Fuck, I’m so sorry, are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you said hurriedly as you wrestled back into your bra, “it’s my fault, I suggested this, shit.”

He fixed his belt and you smoothed down your hair, and then you both took a second to lean back as you caught your last breaths. When he looked at you, neither of you could help but laugh. 

“C’mere,” he smiled and held out his arms. You sighed into them as he kissed your head. 

It was easy to forget the stakes until you looked at the door and the daunting task of stepping out cut through the warm, fuzzy cloud you’d found in him. You gripped him tighter as the thoughts came spiraling in. 

“We’re so fucked,” you muttered into his arms. 

“It’s okay,” he soothed, “it’ll be okay. I’ll take the fall.”

You looked up at him and gawked. 

“Are you kidding me?! No, it was my idea. They need you here. The people need you and I—“

“Babe.” He silenced you with gentle fingers that brushed your hair back from your forehead. “They need you, too. I’ll be fine. I promise.”

Getting you both fired was not how you imagined the honeymoon phase of your relationship going. An impulse for heaven had delivered you hell. As Leon’s selflessness turned sacrificial for the sake of your bad decision, it made you want to cry. All because you couldn’t wait a day until you got back home. 

You’d ruined it. Who would want to be with someone who’d ruined his brand new career? His dreams of helping people? You saw your fairytales go up in smoke, and you had no one to blame but yourself.

Right before the tears welled, the siren rang out in the halls. 

You grumbled in unison in one last embrace before you left the storage cocoon of shelter. Leon kissed your nose before opening the door, and you braced for the hammer to fall.

Your heart pounded as you suited up and the whole ride towards downtown. No one said a peep, but you could feel it all around. People knew. The tall city buildings towered over you, and you prayed they’d fall like teeth and swallow you whole. 

You were mindfuck by the conflicting emotions. You got with the object of your recent obsession, and it was fantastic. You should be happy right now. Instead, you couldn’t even look at him as the guilt sat heavily in your stomach, settling right along with his cum. 

You arrived. A false flag in a historic building; dust from renovations set off the alarm. You and your troupe searched routinely for a fire you wouldn’t find and then loaded back up to return. You felt like you were suffocating on the drive back, certain that the call had only delayed your reaming and it’d be the first thing on the agenda the moment you stepped inside. 

You unloaded and booked it for your bunk to buy yourself some extra time. You got your gear back in ready-to-jump order for perhaps the last time, never to be put on again. Then you exhaled deeply and tried to stand up straight to face the music with some bravery. 

The station was indisputably tense as you tried to act normal. You could feel it. Everyone knew. You orbited Leon, never daring to stand too close, relying only on the fact he was still there to determine he hadn’t been reprimanded yet either. His presence felt electric, and god, you could still feel the ache between your legs whenever you sat down, but it felt like a knife to think it might’ve been your first and last time with him. 

You grew suspicious as the minutes turned to hours, none of them marked by the fire chief bursting in to call your name. You were quiet, and everyone else was too, or at least quieter than usual. You thought maybe you’d evaded the consequences entirely, but you wouldn’t let your guard down or else it’d only hurt tenfold. Every second was spent on guard.

Night fell. With the cot blankets pulled up to your chin, you stared at the ceiling and wondered why no one had said anything. All you’d gotten were a couple raised eyebrows and giggles heard from across the room. It was enough to drive you crazy. 

A few night calls and nothing to note. Leon pressed his thigh against you as you sat side to side in the truck. You looked out at the city lights as they blurred by and bit back a smile as you pressed back. With long firecoats concealing your hands, he interlocked his pinky with yours. 

You wake up first and find Leon alone in the kitchen doing the new guy’s task of brewing coffee. 

“Morning, sunshine,” he smiles through sleepy eyes. His bedhead is enough to make you blush.

You return his greeting through a yawn and lean against the counter beside him. 

“So… I guess we got off scot free?”

“Scott’s my middle name, you know.” He smiles at you and you snort at his humor while the coffee pot starts to gurgle. “…That wasn’t a joke.”

You stare at him blankly for long enough to make him shy as you realize it really wasn’t. 

“Scott. That’s fucking adorable.”

He rolls his eyes. “Oh, shut up.”

“You shut up.”

“Kiss me and I will.”

It steals your breath, and you do.

You have all of ten minutes alone before the rest of the crew woke up one by one. You were still on edge, but it was a minor feeling compared to the lingering butterflies. 

The day went on as normal save for a dozen stolen kisses. It made you itch for more again, but you don’t dare to test your limits. You’re on cloud nine as the hours roll past, and it’s written all over your face, but not a soul addresses it. It settles into a sweet, new normal.

NSFW

wolfman!Leon Kennedy whose pack instincts extend to him craving a family and you find yourself on your hands and knees and taking it raw at least once a month to appease his desire to breed.

wolfman!Leon Kennedy who likes getting scritched behind his ears. it's a known trait among dog and wolf hybrids, sure, but only you know that one of his pastimes is pinning you to the bed, nuzzling your chest, and having you scritch his ears as he lazily humps your leg like an actual dog.

wolfman!Leon Kennedy who used to be insecure about wanting to lick you to show affection but is now addicted to doing it once you let him do it the first time. (he is especially addicted to licking up your sweat and cum after sex).