Various! Characters x Reader | Oneshots

Leon S. Kennedy x reader | the rookie and his cop fetish (lemon)

Resident Evil 2
Point Of View: 2nd
Title: the rookie and his cop fetish
Description: (lemon)

You uncover Leon's ultimate fantasy

. . .

The brisk October breeze flows through the cracked open windows, the sun's orange glow diminishing by the minute. You're stood in front of the mirror facing your bed as you admire the way the navy blue skirt hugs the curves of your hips. It sits just high enough to tease the swell of your ass without giving too much away—just as long as you don't bend down.

You had bought the set on a whim; for the costume party your boyfriend's coworkers were throwing. You hadn't anticipated how constricting the material would actually be. It seemed a whole size too small. Your breasts were nearly busting out of the poorly made seams—the unfortunate buttons about to pop right off. Thigh high stockings paired with black high heels making for a deadly combo.

Practicality was definitely not what you were going for. Not when you were dating an actual cop.

"Babe?" Leon's voice calls out from down the hallway, "Almost ready?"

You give your makeup a once over before fiddling with the buttons on your torso. "Just a second!"

Before you can even finish your sentence the door opens. Leon's gaze meets your own and you watch as his cheeks quickly flush red. He's silent as his blue eyes rake over your scantily clad form.

"A-are you ready...?" He manages to stutter out eyes never leaving your body.

Fingers fiddling with the hem of your skirt, you pull up slightly, giving him a tantalizing view of the lacy black set beneath your outfit. "What do you think?"

Rendered speechless, your boyfriend moves closer to you. Eyes wide, mouth nearly salivating. He looks to you before making any further moves—awaiting your lead.

"It's a little tight, I admit," you say, "Don't know how much longer I can last in this."

Leon groans at your words, "You're killing me (y/n). I won't be able make it through the party."

"Speaking of," you place a hand on his all too plain grey t-shirt, "Where's your costume, mister?"

"Didn't have the time to pull one together last minute."

A pout forms on your lips, "I'll let you off with a warning just this once." You grasp the fake badge sitting in your shallow pocket, shining him a glimpse of your pretend authority.

Leon smirks, "Well you can arrest me anytime you want."

"Don't push your luck, Leon. We should get going or we're going to be late."

He whines at your words, "Who's going to care if we're a little late—" He reaches out to caress your chest before his hands get swatted away.

Nearly eye level thanks to the heels your fingers find their way to the nape of his neck, nails digging into his scalp. "If you want me so bad you're going to have to beg," you whisper into his ear.

Leon's breath hitches ever so faintly, his blonde head of hair dropping to your shoulder. Large hands place themselves firm on your hips, fingertips skirting underneath the hem of your blouse. "Please..."

It's barely above a whisper.

"I know you can do better than that," you demand, turning to the door. You weren't going to bite if he was going to play that game tonight.

"You're not being fair—" he whines, grabbing hold of your wrist. "How can you expect me to keep my hands off of you when you're wearing that?"