Leon Kennedy obsessed

⚓️ borrowed time and stolen kisses

summary: making out in the car with re2!leon vs re9!leon. a continuation to "reporting back" if you squint

warnings: suggestive, allusions to car sex

re2:

leon was meant to be dropping you off, that was all. you had a girls date planned, and he had a night shift.

but you had kissed him goodbye and he leaned back in immediately after you pulled away. so you entertained his puppy eyes and kissed him again. and again when his lips chased yours. and again when he asked.

now, he’d asked for "one last one" thirteen kisses ago, but neither of you were in any rush to pull apart anymore. the small pecks were now forgotten for messy, half-coordinated, rushed kisses.

leon was leaned over you, his seatbelt half tangled into his torso as he ran his hands feverishly along any part he could. he'd been trying to do this since before you left.

his teeth were clattering into yours as you kissed, followed by immediate muttered apologies and a copious amount of puppy eyes in hopes of keeping you going.

"leon." you muttered into his lips, tugging his head away from yours with the hand tangled in the back of his hair. you'd done that at least four times now, his tongue stuck so far down your mouth you questioned if he was trying to reach your throat. again.

his nose bumped yours, not withdrawing from his kisses as he apologized, "sorry."

he gave you another look with wide eyes. you sighed at the biblical level of greed, kissing him back anyways.

⊱.˚── ⋅ .✧˚❀˚✧. ⋅ ──˚.⊰

re9:

leon was no one if not greedy with his kisses.

a lot of the man you once knew was gone, in differing ways. he learned patience, to take his time, he didn't hesitate, or hold back out of fear anymore. yet, the glimmer of that rookie still shone through his insatiable hunger.

pulled into a dark, secluded parking lot–because you and him both unanimously agreed the worst part of date night was the stretch of road between your reservations and your house–with one hand fixed on the back of your neck, the other cupped around your face. the location was less about fear–the risk of getting caught was part of the thrill–and more about the fact leon wanted zero chance at interruptions today.

his lips moved against yours with purpose rather than blind urgency, the hand previously on your neck now settled on the small of your back, pushing you deeper into him. you shifted into his lap, humming when leon's face winced at the movement.

"do you need help with that?" your hand lingered right atop his belt.

leon grunted in response, "later." he titled his head towards the backseats. "join me maybe?"

I am nothing without pretend

I know my thoughts

DSO golden boy

Leon ‘tis but a scratch Kennedy