Love From The Other Side ☆ Leon S Kennedy X Reader

35.5 ☆ NSFW !! - can be skipped :3

As Leon tackles me into the pillows, I just laugh in response - not entirely aware of his intentions. It wasn't until I noticed the deviant expression on his face where it all hit me.

He bites his bottom lip, staring at me pleadingly as if awaiting permission to touch me anywhere. I grin at him; it's been six years. Let's see how his game's changed, I guess.

He takes my reaction as an obvious yes and climbs ontop of me - hovering over my body so he doesn't crush me by accident. I make a mental note of the sweet gesture, but my thoughts are immediately snatched from me. He leans down, planting his sweet, sloppy lips against mine, tilting his head and gaining an easy access into my mouth. His tongue delicately runs over mine and I savour the taste while his hands gently slide under my shirt - caressing my skin smoothly.

I, in response, break the kiss for a moment to pull his tight, black shirt over his head. It was already flattering enough, but I think he looks better bare. He (also) swoops my t-shirt right off my shoulders, and I admire his body for a moment before he stops panting and goes back in for seconds without warning. He moves forward, pressing his fuzzy chest against mine as he deepens the kiss; growing rougher by the second.

Eventually, he slides down and presses his face into my neck; breathing heavily and quickly while taking a breather, and then claiming me as his own. The agent latches his mouth onto my neck, his tongue flush against my skin as he leaves me a lovebite. I dig my fingers into the upper section of his back, my nails leaving indentation marks of my own in his skin as he finds a few more spots to claim on my body.

Eventually, after a minute or two of leaving plenty of coloured marks to last a decade, Leon gets bored of that and unbuckles my belt - his skin marred in a thick layer of sweat. His tender fingers slide off my jeans, throwing them to the floor and joining our discarded shirts. I competitively unbutton and unzip the fly of his trousers, keeping him upright as the bulge of his underwear immediately springs out of the fly gap. I kick the clothing across the room, resulting in them flying all the way to the sofa as I proudly admire my shot before he presses against me further from above.

"Y/N, you're so beautiful." He whispers exasperatedly and raspily in my ear. "You make me so horny." Escaping from Leon is a short, hardly audible whimper as I feel the straining fabric of his final layer pressing against my leg. I'm slightly taken aback, but I don't push him away, no way. I don't know how to feel about that statement... aroused, or proud of myself. Damn, I'm egotistical.

I wrap a leg around him, flipping him onto his back and sitting on his thighs. He gasps, grabbing onto my hips and pulling me closer in search of friction. Basically, he wants to rub his soggy dick against me, keeping me at a perfect distance: as close as possible.

And that he does - until he rolls forward, squashing me against the sheets at the other end of the bed. He grabs my wrists with both hands at first, holding them hostage above my head and shuffling a little lower. He uses his teeth to tug off my underwear, and I, wrapping my legs around his waist, pull his off with my feet. Of course, that was literally my only option to get this man butt-naked with my lack of hands.

Within an instant, he breaks one of his own hands free and grabs a thigh, pushing them apart hungrily and finding his way into me - thrusting into my pulsing entrance like his life depends on it. I can't help the 'Holy shit!' that escapes my throat, finally looking up at his face. I'm immediately blinded by his facecard, his pale blue eyes squinting at me and his soft lips parted as his bodies desperate attempt to respire at a more efficient rate. His breathing is heavy, deep, gutteral pants escaping his throat as the girth stretches my core with his throbbing cock. It's almost shocking - the length is bearable, but the width is almost worthy of withdrawal.

Everything happens so quickly I can hardly process anything; I'm just stuck as a pillow princess, my fingers grasping onto him for dear life as I take it. And unlike last time, six years ago, he doesn't just get touched and cum everywhere. No, this man is dedicated!

With a squeaking mattress and probably downstairs neighbours shocked that Leon can pull, he rocks back and forth, furrowed eyebrows, drool and all. I can't help but admire how gorgeous he looks like this; he was crafted by the heavens, but his body has changed so much... and it makes me wonder what he's really been through all this time.

My deep thoughts are ripped from my brain as he pulls away from me and out of my spot, gasping and letting put a soft, strained whine. "Shit..." He groans.

I relax all of my muscles, laying back and facing the ceiling. "The pullout method doesn't work, you know," I huff, closing my eyes for a moment exhaustedly. "It's the most stupid theory I've ever heard."

"Yeah, I know. I didn't have condoms. I don't exactly bring girls' home." He chuckles, a rustling noise emerging from his direction.

"Are you jacking it?" I ask, too lazy to sit up and look for myself.

"Yeah, it's been a while since I've felt this good, y'know." He retorts. "I'm just savouring it a little."

"You mean you're saying you want more?" I snicker. "Still?"

"Yeah. But I won't make you do anymore, though. I've got it covered."

"I wouldn't've anyway. I'm tired. Hey, I was wondering... how have you been over the six years we didn't see eachother? What happened to you?" I ask, curiously.

"Military training. Some real tough shit. Wouldn't wish it upon my worst enemies... then I became a DSO agent. Double whammy, I hate it." He complains, suddenly moaning out of the blue.

"Honestly? Never heard of it. What's it stand for?" I chuckle, trying to ignore that little moment of vulnerability.

"D-divison of security operations. It's basically just anti-bioweapons and shit like that."

"I see..."

"Oh, fuck. C-can you help, just a little..." He whimpers, his hand moving like a factory machine.