[melodiesz]

Close Call⭑.ᐟ

In which they think you want to break up! ⊹ ࣪ ˖ incl: 7 demon brothers + thirteen & barbatos

a/n: My beautiful intelligent Barbatos could never get the wrong idea ✌️ first post in MONTHS yikes sorry guys take this as a peace offering…😓 I will try to post atleast once a week again now as I finally have some motivation!! again I’m very sorry for the complete lack of posts, I appreciate you all!! <33

[menmadeofwarninglabels]

The reason Leon Kennedy works so well is because he is equal parts gentleman and deeply unwell, which means every sweet gesture comes with the undertone of a man trying very hard to hold himself together.

Like, because he's polite: he opens doors for you, walks on the outside of the sidewalk, remembers how you like your coffee

But because he's unwell: he checks every exit constantly, he needs to hear your voice after nightmares, little things become huge things with him

And that's the thing. The romance isn't that he would die for you. Lots of characters would die for you. The romance is that he's trying, every day, to live for you. And some days that is clearly the harder thing.

For example: you mention offhand that your car has been making a weird noise. Three days later he hands you the keys back and says, "Should be good now." You find out he spent his only free afternoon under the car teaching himself how to fix it from a repair manual because the thought of you breaking down alone on the side of the road made him physically ill. He never tells you that part. He just asks you to text him when you get home. Immediately. Every time. Forever.

A/N: love me an acts of service husband. Speaking of, today is my second wedding anniversary and I FORGOT hahahaha. I'm gonna be in trouble later. Guess he gets the oldest gift around *ties up hair in a scrunchie*

[thelonewolfdreamer]

"Nothing can separate you from me"

Genre : emotional, nightmare, scared leon, fluff? Comfort, badly written i am sorry, I am tired expect mistakes muah my lovies or babies

Pairings: leon x gender!neutral reader

"Please... stay..." Leon’s voice came out strained almost broken: as if it was even hurting him in whichever realm he was in, his voice was barely more than a whisper as he tossed restlessly beside you, though his eyes remained tightly shut. "Please..."

A fresh sheen of sweat coated his skin, dampening his hairs and soaking through the collar of his shirt.

After a beat of silence as he stayed still his breathing grew even more frantic, his brows drawning together in obvious distress.

Your heart twisted painfully against your ribs as if trying to dig its way out of your chest, when you see him like this, "Leon," you whispered immediately, reaching for him. "Hey... I'm here. I'm right here." You instinctively threaded your fingers through his hair, trying to soothe him, trying to pull him back from whatever nightmare had trapped him.

But he didn't wake up, instead, he shifted again on his side, as a strained groan escaped him as his body tensed beneath the blankets.

God, you hated this. You hated seeing him like this. Hated how helpless it made you feel, knowing there was nothing you could do while nightmares held him captive.

You didn't know what he saw in those nightmares. All you knew was that he kept calling your name, clutching your torso mindlessly and pulling you tighter against him as if letting go would destroy him.

Even when pain stung through your body from the force of his grip, you never stopped him. You couldn't. Not when he held onto you like you were the only thing keeping him from falling apart; not when your heart barely held itself together when leon was like this.

And you hated every second of those dreams where he had to endure this alone. Hated whatever unseen thing haunted him enough to leave him trembling in his sleep, calling for you like he was afraid you'd disappear.

You wished you could tear those nightmares apart with your bare hands, annihilate whatever was hurting him, whatever had left wounds deep enough to follow him even into sleep.

But you couldn't. All you could do was hold him through it, whisper reassurances into the darkness, and feel utterly helpless every time another nightmare dragged him under.

"Please... don't..." Leon's voice cracked as he turned to your side wrapping his big arms against your waist. "Don't go..."

Your chest tightened all over again. “I won’t,” you whispered, your lips trembling as you said his name. “Leon... I’m here. I’m here forever.”

"I can't lose you..." His breathing hitched, as sweat dripped down his face onto the pillow, "Not you..."

A tear slipped from the corner of his closed eye. And that broke you. Without thinking, you moved even closer to him; lowering your hands and cradling his face against your palms. "Leon." His name came out trembling from your lips "You don't have to be afraid."

Another tear slipped free from his eyes, and your heart broke again; shattering itself in edged shards etching and stinging painfully in your chest and gently, you lowered your head and pressed soft kisses against his tears before they could disappear into his skin.

"Leon..." you whispered. You didn't know if he could hear you. You weren't even sure if the words could reach him through whatever nightmare had trapped him. But you said them anyway. "This nightmare... nothing in this entire world can separate me from you." Your voice dropped softer as you rested your forehead against his shoulder, your hand slowly trailing through his damp hair. "They can't separate what beats inside me. They can't separate what runs through my veins." A shaky breath escaped you. "And you, Leon Scott Kennedy..." Your fingers tangled gently in his hair. "You are the reason for my entire existence. Even my heartbeat doesn't feel like it's in my control when you're not near."

You leaned down and pressed a lingering kiss against his hairs. "I love you." Your eyes closed as you held him a little tighter. "I won't go." Then you press another kiss onto his damp forehead. "Never." Then slowly you slide down your hand and hold onto his trembling fingers.

Just then, as if he had heard you, his entire body jerked awake. Leon shot upright with a sharp gasp, breathing hard, but you didn't let go.

Instead, you clung to him like a koala, your hands instinctively wrapped tightly around his arms.

As your eyes darted on him; his eyes were wild and unfocused, darting around the room in panic. For one horrible second, he looked completely lost.

Then as his finally adjusted to the darkness of the room his breathing started to slow and his eyes drifted downards as he saw your hands gripping his; and then his face tilted towards you and he saw the concern written all over your face. "Hey," you said softly your eyes softening. "It's okay."

Leon stared at you completely lost then, before he could spiral back into whatever fear had chased him awake, or speak anything else that would panic him; you cupped his face and pressed a gentle kiss against his lips.

The movement silenced him instantly and a soft exhale escaped him. When you pulled back, your forehead rested against his. "I'm not going anywhere," you whispered.

His eyes closed for a brief moment and relief washed across his face so visibly it hurt to see. Slowly, he opened his eyes and his hands found yours. "You promise?" Leon asked so quietly; and in a voice you didnt recognize for a moment that was his.

You nod and gently squeezed his fingers. "I promise."

Hearing that Leon finally relaxed under you and the tension slowly left his shoulders.

His breathing finally slowed and when he settled back down beside you, he pulled you tightly against his chest like he needed the reassurance that you were real.

This time, when sleep finally found him again, it came peacefully. You held him close, tucked securely against his chest, clinging to him as though you could shield him from every nightmare waiting beyond the dark.

Slowly, your breathing matched his, and as you comfortably held him against you; it felt as though your ribs were his and his were yours; and finally two heartbeats finally rested within the same quiet rhythm.

[theweepingangelofcas]

PMDD Blues - Leon Kennedy x Reader

Summary: You struggle with PMDD. It gets bad at times. Seeing your distress, Leon is ready to help. Authors Note: PMDD fucking sucks, ya'll. I'm also well aware that this fic isn't quite my usual level of writing. That's because this is purely self indulgent and I wrote this in 20 minutes during a minor cry sesh. uuuh anyway enjoy i guess! One Shot Masterlist

Leon knows before you tell him.

Not necessarily because he's been keeping track of your cycle, no. Your cycle is less of a cycle and more of an eldridge horror, anyway, with how irregular it is. He doesn’t know because of some date on a calendar or ping on an app.

He knows just because he knows you.

The signs are always small at first. They always have been. You start apologizing constantly, like existing takes up too much space. Your laughter gets quieter and more forced. Your eyes linger on your figure or your makeup longer, like you’re scrutinizing everything you’ve ever touched.

This morning, you apologized to him because your coffee mug was ‘in the way’ while he unloaded the dishwasher.

Three days ago, you became convinced that everyone at work secretly hated you.

And now?

Now you're sitting curled into the far corner of the couch, while a movie plays forgotten on the television. Leon has been watching you watch absolutely nothing for almost twenty minutes.

"Honey."

You flinch slightly. His heart sinks. He knows that look. That distant, exhausted expression. Like you're fighting something invisible and losing.

You force a smile. It’s so fake that it looks painful. "Yeah?"

"Talk to me."

Immediately, your eyes drop. There it is. The guilt. Always the guilt. You stare down at the blanket twisted in your lap for so long that Leon almost thinks you won't answer. Then, quietly, "I think you're getting tired of me."

The words hit him like a punch.

Leon exhales slowly through his nose.

PMDD is cruel that way. It doesn't whisper. It declares. It takes every insecurity you've ever had and presents it as objective fact. You don't feel sad. You feel certain. Certain you're annoying or difficult or stupid. Certain everyone would be happier if you just disappeared for a little while.

Leon learned that a long time ago. He learned how often your brain lies and spins tall tales. 

He shifts closer. You immediately tense. Like you think you're about to inconvenience him.

The realization breaks his heart every single month.

"Honey," he says quietly.

You don't look up.

"Honey." A little firmer this time. Reluctantly, your eyes lift. They already look glassy.

Damn it.

"I need you to answer something honestly."

You sniff once. "...Okay."

"When was the last time I told you that I was tired of you?"

Your brows pull together. "What?"

"When."

You stare at him. "... I don't know…. Never?"

"Exactly." His hand reaches for yours carefully. You let him take it. "When was the last time I told you that you were too much?"

Silence.

"When was the last time I said I didn't want you around?"

Nothing. The tears start first. You hate that. Leon knows you do. Because now you're crying and getting frustrated about crying which only makes you cry harder.

A vicious cycle.

"I know," he murmurs immediately, scooting closer. "I know." His hand grips yours firmly, bringing it up to his lips. The skin is soft against his face.

Your other hand flies to your eyes, trying to cover the tears. "I hate this."

"I know."

"It feels so stupid."

"I know."

"I know it's not real and it still feels real."

That one hurts. He can hear the frustration in your voice. The awareness. The fact that part of you understands exactly what's happening while the other part is trapped underneath it.

He wraps an arm around your shoulders. You fold into him instantly. Almost desperately. Like you've been holding yourself together with duct tape all day.

Leon presses a kiss into your hair. Slow. Careful. Patient. The same way he handles every wound he can't physically fix.

"You know what I think?" he asks softly.

A weak shake of your head.

"I think your brain is being an asshole."

A startled laugh escapes you. Tiny and wet but real.

"There you are."

You bury your face against his chest. For a while, neither of you speaks. The apartment is quiet. The television continues playing something neither of you are watching. Outside, rain taps softly against the windows.

Eventually, Leon feels your breathing begin to even out. Not fixed. Not magically better. Just calmer. The storm passing enough that you can finally rest for a minute.

His hand drifts slowly through your hair. "You know…" he murmurs.

"Hm?" Your head lifts just enough to meet his gaze.

"I've fought bio-weapons that were easier to deal with than your hormones."

A laugh bursts out of you before you can stop it. Leon smiles into the top of your head. 

Mission accomplished.

He knows he can't make the PMDD disappear. He can't argue your brain into behaving. He can't fight hormones with a handgun. But he can sit here. He can hold you.

He can remind you that you're loved until your brain starts believing it again.

And if that means spending a few days every month carrying some of the weight for you?

Well.

After everything he's survived, that's probably the easiest mission he's ever had.

[dkrafs]

from jade: baby's first leon kennedy fic! 🥹 no beta, we all just die. wrote this with re4!leon, death island leon, and re9!leon in mind heh

dso’s golden boy, legendary agent leon scott kennedy is reduced to nothing but a human pillow. don’t fret, though. he’s exactly where he wants to be in life.

it’s no secret to anyone that leon kennedy has a physique that most women and men simp for. they can gawk however they like but touching him? that right is reserved for you and you only.

leon knows you’re a touchy person by default. first time he met you, he was immediately engulfed in the warmest hug known to mankind—his knees buckled just a little but that’s a secret he’ll take with him to the grave. when he drove you home after the first date? another hug and a kiss to the cheek that he felt even after days passed. he almost didn’t want to wash his face but thought about your preference for hygienic men.

after four years of dating and three months being engaged, your physical love meter has amped up intensely. before, the most he’ll get is a kiss to the corner of his mouth. now? leon’s lucky if he can even get up after getting mauled into the bed due to your sudden urge to “kiss him all over and eat him up and chew him all up.”

this leads us to now, early morning with the sun peeking through the blinds. leon insisted on a blackout curtain but your argument of “you can’t live in darkness forever” resulted in soft baby pink sheer flower patterned curtains.

it was one of those rare times where you awake earlier than him. to be fair, he just came back from a month-long mission in europe.

you’ve always known leon kennedy was pretty but in these instances of serenity and peace, he’s looking extra gorgeous under the warm sunlight. you lay on your front, head slumped over his stretched out bicep. your cheek is skin-to-skin with the muscle, firm yet comfortable. leon’s on his back, chest rising periodically in deep breaths.

glancing at the clock on the nightstand, you decide it’s time to wake him up. you turn your head, open your mouth, and then—bite. hard enough to jolt him awake but not so much that it bleeds out.

you grin as you watch him rub the sleep away from his eyes. “hi, baby. good morning.”

leon squints at you for a moment, still caught up somewhere between dreaming about flowers with faces chasing him and actually facing the prettiest flower ever (you), before he pinches your cheek.

then he registers the dull ache in his arm.

he stills, contemplating on whether to ask you about it or not. instead he settles for, "...mornin'.”

his voice comes out rough, just the right about of deepness and softness that makes your heart flutter. you lean forward to kiss his stubbled jaw.

the arm you were laying on slips under your shirt, calloused fingers caressing the smooth skin.

usually, leon’s internal clock is impossible to shut off, especially after a mission. years of training have hardwired him into waking up the second he’s conscious. most mornings, he’d already be halfway to the coffee machine by now.

instead, he lets his arm flop back onto the mattress, right in front of you. then stares blankly at the ceiling.

you blink. once. twice. "breakfast?”

a beat passes.

"later.”

the answer comes immediately, accompanied by a sleepy exhale.

leon scott kennedy, the man who survived thousands of bioweapons, government conspiracies, parasitic cults, and whatever the hell europe decided to throw at him this time, was choosing to stay in bed. voluntarily.

"i’m tired." his eyes remained at the ceiling.

there’s no complaint in his voice. just a simple statement of fact.

"you should rest, then.” you hummed. he curls his arm loosely around your shoulders in response. for a second there, leon thought he heard purrs of content from you. huh, he must still be dreaming.

you settle comfortably on your stomach again, phone balanced in front of you. your legs swing back and forth behind you as you load up your game, leon snickers at the sight.

a few seconds later, you lean down to take another bite of his bicep. not enough to hurt. never to hurt him.

leon sighs. “i feel like a chew toy.”

“you are. my chew toy.”

“is that all i am to you?”

“most times, yeah.” and another bite. it doesn’t even faze him anymore.

“love you too, i guess.”

“aw, thank you, lord kennedy.”

you grin triumphantly before returning your attention to your phone. one hand taps away at the screen while your cheek remains pressed against his arm like it’s the world’s most comfortable pillow. the 4000 dollars pillow currently on the floor glares at you with scorn and betrayal.

every now and then, you absentmindedly nibble at him. to which, he retorts with faux annoyance.

the room falls quiet after that.

only the sounds of your game, the rustle of sheets, and the occasional bite to his arm interrupt the silence.

leon keeps staring at the ceiling.

not because he's thinking about work. not because he's replaying mission reports. not because he's wondering when headquarters will drag him into another disaster.

for once, he's letting himself do absolutely nothing.

he can feel you beside him. your legs kicking lazily in the air. your weight against his arm. your teeth occasionally finding his bicep because apparently that's become a normal thing in this relationship.

and when you shift closer and practically drape yourself over him, leon doesn’t complain. he never does. you’ve got a soft spot in his heart, after all.

he just lets out another slow breath and settles deeper into the mattress. he reminds himself that he’s home. to you.

and if that means another hour of being a chew toy and a human pillow, leon figures he can deal with that. after all, he’s been through worst situations than this.

[feralbuni666]

Request for Leon taking care of drunk reader while she has absolutely no filter 🫠

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

"Easy there," Leon said, his voice warm with amusement as he guided you through the front door. His hand was on your lower back, steadying you when you stumbled over the front step. Your vision tilted, spinning In a kaleidoscope of colors as you blindly reached out to Leon's arm to keep upright, except you missed and got a handful of his chest instead.

"Oops," you giggled, not removing your hand. Your fingers squeezing experimentally.

"Honk Honk," you said, giggling to yourself.

Leon’s eye widened and he scoffed in disbelief.

"I think they're bigger than mine," you announced, still groping his pecs like you were testing the ripeness of fruit at the grocery store.

"They are not," he said fighting back laughter. You kept your hands exactly where they were, looking up at him with exaggerated innocence. He raised one eyebrow; his expression amused.

"Can I help you?" he asked leaning into your hands with a crooked smirk on his lips.

"No," you said brightly a smile on your face, giving his chest another appreciative squeeze. "Can I help you, sir? These look heavy."

He couldn’t help the laugh that burst out of him. You laughed with him before you melted into his arms, pressing your face against his neck and inhaling deeply. 

"Mmm, you smell so good.” Before you pulled back slightly resting your chin on his chest to look into his eyes. You studied his face with a theatrically confused look on your face. “Y’know, you look Like... like...Like my husband. Who I love. Did you know I have the hottest husband in the whole world?"

"You might've mentioned it," he said, trying to hide his smile as he kicked the door shut behind you. "About fifteen times on the drive home."

"Only fifteen?" You frowned, genuinely concerned. "That's not enough. You're so—" You poked his chest emphatically with each word. "Fucking. Hot. Leon."

He caught your hand before you could poke him again, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. "Let's get you some water, Okay?"

But you had other ideas. Your free hand slid down his torso, and you looked up at him through your lashes. "Or... we could skip the water and get wet in other ways."

"Water first," he said firmly ignoring your lewd suggestion, though his eyes had darkened slightly. He guided you toward the kitchen, keeping one arm around you because you kept veering off course and stumbling over nothing. When you rounded the corner and almost knocked your wedding pictures off the wall, he had enough and bent down, scooping you up to throw you over his shoulder, one hand coming down on your ass with a sharp smack that made you yelp.

"Leon!" you squealed, but you were grinning and laughing as he carried you toward the kitchen. Your hands immediately mischievously slid down his firm back to grab his ass in return, squeezing a handful shamelessly.

"Mrs. Kennedy," Leon said, his voice strained with barely contained laughter. "Please keep your hands to yourself."

"No," you said simply, squeezing again for emphasis. He shook his head before he reached back behind him to gather both of your wrists to hold them captive, he was still grinning as he carried you toward the kitchen. You pouted the whole way there, then immediately perked up when he deposited you onto the counter, standing in-between your legs. "Ooh, I like this." You said wrapping your legs around his waist before he could step away, pulling him close. "No! Stay." you immediately lunged forward, trying to steal a kiss.

"I need to get you water," he said, but he didn't move after that, his hands settling on your thighs.

"Don't care." You cupped his face in both hands, studying him. "Your eyes are so pretty and I love your face." You traced his bottom lip with your thumb. "Everything about you is pretty. How did I get so lucky?"

His expression softened, and he leaned in to kiss your forehead. "I'm the lucky one."

"Don't you know the saying that the wife is always right," you insisted, tightening your legs around him. "You're stuck with me now. Forever. You married me. No takebacks."

"Wouldn't dream of it," he murmured, reaching past you to grab a glass from the cabinet. You took advantage of his proximity to kiss his neck, your hands sliding under his shirt.

Leon caught you by the shoulders, holding you at arm's length. "Water first."

"Kiss first," you counter offered, trying to lean around his hands.

"Water," he repeated not coming down from his initial starting offer, he drove a hard bargain and you couldn't talk him down. You pouted dramatically as he stepped over to the sink, swinging your legs and watching him. Your eyes never left him as he filled the glass, tracking every movement like a cat watching a bird out the window. You made another grab for him wrapping around him like a koala, nipping at his neck as he tried to fill the glass.

"Baby," he said, his voice strained as he filled the glass with water. "You need to drink water."

"I need to drink you," you said, then dissolved into giggles at your own terrible line. "Get it? Because you're a tall glass of—"

"I got it," he said, laughing despite himself. He pressed the glass into your hand. "Drink."

"You're trying to waterboard me," you whined, but you took a sip anyway, never breaking eye contact. The moment you swallowed, you set the glass down and reached for him again. "There. Water. Now kiss."

"More water," he said, fighting back a smile as he pushed the glass back toward you. You took another exaggerated sip, then another, then drained half the glass in one go. "Happy?"

"With you? Always," he said sweetly and you almost melted into a puddle on the counter, he stepped between your legs letting you wrap them around his waist.

You immediately cupped his face, pulling him close. "I love you so much," you breathed, suddenly serious despite the alcohol buzzing through your system. " You're the best thing that ever happened to me, and you're so good to me. Even when I'm being silly."

His expression softened completely, and he leaned his forehead against yours. "You're always a little silly. That's why I love you." he said softly, his hands coming up to cradle your face, his thumbs stroking your cheeks.

"Don't be so sweet to me," you said, your voice wobbling, overwhelmed by the alcohol and emotions. "I'll cry."

"Can't help it," he said, kissing the tip of your nose. You pulled him into a messy and enthusiastic kiss, he could taste the sweetness of the coconut and milk and sour tang of pineapple from the Piña colada’s you'd been drinking. He kissed you back just as thoroughly, one hand tangling in your hair while the other gripped your hip.

When you finally broke apart, both of your chests were heaving, breathing hard. You grinned at him, feeling floaty and warm and so, so in love with the man Infront of you, taking such good care of you even though you were making it your mission to make it as difficult as possible. "Take me to bed?"

"To sleep," he clarified stubbornly, though his voice was a little rough after the kiss.

"Sure," you agreed easily, knowing you'd try to change his mind the second you got there. "Whatever you say, handsome."

He shook his head fondly and scooped you up, carrying you toward the bedroom while you peppered his jaw and neck with kisses, your hands never quite managing to stay to yourself. 

The mattress bounced as you flopped onto it, sprawling out like a starfish before you started making sheet angels in the dark navy bed sheets. Leon stood at the edge of the bed, looking down at you with an exasperated but completely smitten look, he couldn’t even try and hide it.

"Don't move," he said sternly pointing to you like you were a unruly dog, before heading to the bathroom.

"Can't promise anything," you called after him, already rolling onto your side and nearly tumbling off the bed. You caught yourself at the last second, giggling. Your dress was rucked up and bunched around your waist, your whole ass out as you rolled over and mashed your face directly into his pillow, letting a drawn-out moan at his scent. Breathing in the notes of the honey and vanilla of the new detergent you just bought, mixed with his own woodsy shampoo that was still lingering on the fabric. 

He returned with a makeup wipe, sitting on the edge of the mattress. His hand reached up and gently pulled your dress back into place where it had ridden up, his palm coming to rest on your hip, his thumb tracing along your curves.

"Come on, sit up for me," he said softly, his other hand sliding to your back to help you.

You pushed yourself upright with his help, swaying slightly, and when you saw the makeup wipe in his hand your whole face lit up.

"You remembered!" you said, your words slurring together in your excitement. "You're the best husband ever. I hate waking up with crusty makeup. It's so gross and my face feels all—" You made a disgusted noise, scrunching up your nose.

"I know," Leon said, his expression fond. "That's why I'm doing this."

"You're perfect," you sighed, crawling toward him on your hands and knees, aiming to look seductive and enticing but coming off more like Bambi as you overshoot and bumped into his chest. "Oops." You said laughing as you melted into his chest and he took all of your weight holding you up as he went to clean your face.

"Yeah, oops," he said, his arm coming around your waist to hold you up, while bringing the wipe to your face with the other.

The cool, damp cloth touched your cheek, and you immediately started complaining as he wiped your lips off. "Mmhhhnn!"

"Hold still," Leon said, his voice patient as he cupped the back of your head to keep you in place trying to be even more gentle then before. "You'll thank me in the morning."

"I won't," you insisted, even though you knew he was right, squirming as he wiped away your mascara and eyeshadow. "This is cruel and unusual punishment."

"Mm-hmm." He tilted your chin up, carefully cleaning around your eyes. "So cruel. Taking care of my drunk wife." You tried to protest again but he was already moving to your other eye, his touch gentle despite your fussing. When he finally pulled the wipe away, now thoroughly covered in foundation and mascara. Once he was done you puckered your lips expectantly, eyes still closed.

When nothing happened, you cracked one eye open to find him watching you with barely suppressed amusement. Then his hands came up to squish your cheeks together, making your lips pucker even more before he leaned in and gave you the tiniest quickest peck, releasing you.

"That's it?" you demanded sadly. "That's all I get?"

"That's all you get until you're in bed," he said, standing and moving to the dresser. He pulled out one of his old t-shirts, your favorite one to sleep in. You made grabby hands at it, but when he tried to help you out of your dress, you went completely limp. "Can't move. Too drunk. Guess I have to sleep like this."

"Nice try." He maneuvered your arms out of the sleeves despite your best efforts to be as unhelpful as possible, flopping around like a fish out of water. When he finally got the dress off and tried to put the shirt on you, you suddenly had the energy to twist away.

"Wait, I changed my mind. I want the blue one."

"This is the blue one."

"The other blue one."

"You're wearing this one," Leon said firmly, catching you around the waist and wrestling the shirt over your head. You emerged from the neck hole with your hair sticking up in every direction, and he smoothed it down with a fond shake of his head.

The second you were dressed; you threw yourself backward onto the mattress, like a Victorian lady with a fainting spell. You flung one arm over your eyes; the back of your other hand pressed to your forehead.

"My husband doesn't love me anymore. He's so mean. He forces me to drink water and wear shirts to bed. And he won't ravish me like I know he wants to."

Leon couldn't help but laugh, if there was one thing his wife was when she was drunk, it was honest.

"Sooo tragic," you continued, your voice dripping with drama. "Death from no Snu-Snu."

You peeked out from under your arm to watch as he pulled his own shirt off to get ready for bed, and the entire act you had put on crumbled instantly. Your eyes went wide, tracking the movement of fabric up his torso, over his shoulders. You attempted a whistle, what came out was more of a pathetic swoosh of air with no substance. You tried again, pursing your lips with intense concentration. This time nothing came out at all, you looked like you were trying to blow out candles on an invisible birthday cake, your cheeks puffing out uselessly.

"Are you done?" Leon asked in amusement as he watched your increasingly desperate attempts. You tried one final time, producing what one might call a raspberry, and that was apparently his limit. He grabbed the edge of the blanket and yanked, rolling you up in it like a burrito before you could even protest. You let out a muffled "Hey!" as he climbed in behind you and pulled you flush against his bare chest, wrapping both of you in the cocoon of blankets.

"Just go to sleep, baby." he murmured against your hair, his arm curled around your waist.

You wanted to say how much you loved him or how the joke was on him because this was exactly where you wanted to be, but the words were stuck in your throat as your eyelids grew heavy with sleep. The room was soft and fuzzy around the edges of your vision, and his heartbeat was lulling you to sleep, you were so comfortable, so safe, so...

A soft snore escaped you as you finally closed your eyes, tucked safely in Leon’s arms. Leon pressed a kiss to your shoulder, his own eyes drifting closed, a soft smile still on his lips.

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹ reader:

Thank you for the request and I hope you enjoyed anon! I wasn’t sure if you wanted something a little spicy but it turned out more sweet! This might be the last little blurb while I’m locked in and finishing my WIP request fic I’ve been working on for a while, I'm finally editing it…and I’m literally so close…Hopefully, I finish it by tomorrow....

[starkissedverses]

"Growing Pains"

Synopsis: || In which your daughter goes on her first date. Still not believing she's all grown up, Leon reminisces on the day you brought her home for the first time.

Ship(s): Re9 Leon S. Kennedy x Wife! Reader Theme(s): Girl dad Leon, family dynamics, established relationship, coming to terms with change, very bittersweet Content Warnings: Swearing, brief mention of Leon's struggle with sobriety/alcohol, NAMED character for Leon's daughter, Leon threatens violence about a hypothetical man like once, Leon cries does that count? Word Count: 4,362

Leon Kennedy was a lot of things. A survivor of Raccoon CIty, a DSO agent, and the man who had been responsible for rescuing the president’s daughter. Despite these achievements, the one that brought him the most pride was always husband and father. After giving so many of his prime years to the government, being able to come home to you and continue to build that home with you even now, nearly two decades since your first meeting, would always be what he cited as his greatest achievement. Leaning against the open doorway to his daughter’s room, he crossed his arms as he watched you help Elena get ready for her first date. Hands that had once been so small, reaching to him for everything, now putting in earrings and turning to her mother for critiques on if it matched her outfit. Her outfit meant to impress a boy. His heart seized in his chest, and he tore his gaze away from his girls to look around the room, painted a soft pastel blue– ‘just like our eyes!’ she had reasoned once upon a time. It was the same as it normally was these days, posters hanging from the wall, drawings she’d pulled from her favorite sketchbook over the years. The clutter on her desk was ever present, paper piled up in an unorganized pile, a trait she had inherited from her mother over the past sixteen years, much to his chagrin. What had changed? The answer came as easily, yet just as hard, as breathing. She did. Watching his little girl mill about her room, all smiles and nervous excitement, it struck Leon that Elena’s world had changed just as much as his own, and he began to realize just how little of that world he was privy to anymore. Hell, he hadn’t even been made privy to the fact that she was going on a date until you had let it slip the night before that you were excited to meet the young man that had captured her fancy. Her world did not belong to him anymore, he was beginning to see. It was her own now, and Dad was no longer the only man in her life. He wasn’t ready. He wanted to stop that world from spinning in its tracks. Go back to the time where she was his little sidekick, following him around the house and always wanting to be involved in what he was doing. The quiet morning wake-ups before school where she would roll out of bed towards where he knelt to rouse her, fully trusting him to catch her and Nibbles, the stuffed rabbit that her uncle had given her when she was born and her most trusted companion. Carrying her to bed after long fun-filled days, her small hands curled into his shirt and (h/c) hair slipping over his shoulder as she slept soundly in the arms that had protected her since before she was born. Just like her mother. “Do I look okay?” She was looking at him now, all wide-eyed and hopeful as she did a little twirl to show off the floral sundress she had picked out and dressed up in, paired with her favorite sandals and a necklace he quickly recognized as the same one you’d been worrying between your fingers for the better part of his first date with you. “You look perfect,” he answered a bit too quickly. “You always do.” There was so much more he wanted to say. He wanted to warn her about the dangers of dating. To ask her to stay, to let him protect her just a little longer before stepping out into the part of the world he could not follow her to. 

Your hand found his before he could do just that, squeezing softly to ground him as you interlaced your finger. Your husband was a worrier by nature, often finding himself slipping back into the habit of assuming the worst outcome in a situation. You had become his best remedy to that line of thinking over the years and, while it may not be as destructive as it had been when you first met, he still needed the comfort that only you could provide now. Lifting your intertwined fingers to his lips, Leon’s eyes met yours, not daring to watch Elena happily skip past him towards the front door when the doorbell echoed throughout the house. Trying not to notice the way her entire person lit up when she faced the dark-haired boy standing shyly at their front door with a bouquet of peonies. “Hi,” Elena whispered to him, her wide grin mirroring the one Leon now had standing at his side. Pink colored her cheeks and the bridge of her nose as the young man he could only imagine was her date extended the bouquet towards her. “Oh, they’re beautiful. Thank you, Julian!” Elena held the bouquet closer to her, endeared by the gesture, before stepping to the side to allow him into the Kennedy home. “Let me find some water to put these in. Why don’t you come in?” Nodding quickly, the taller young man slipped past Elena, stopping only to hold the door open for her as to not let her struggle with it and the large bouquet before following her the rest of the way inside. While Elena toiled away in the kitchen, practically flitting around to find a vase until her mother came to her rescue, that left Leon alone with her date in the foyer. Nervously, the young man pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose before extending a hand to the DSO agent. “Good evening, sir,” he stumbled through a greeting as Leon finally reached out and took his hand in a shake with a sturdiness he was surprised to find in the young man. “It’s nice to meet you. My name is Julian.” Leon nodded. “Leon Kennedy. A pleasure.” Releasing Julian’s hand after a moment of heart-clenching silence, he crossed his arms and studied the boy. “What are you two planning for the night?” “A-a movie, Mr. Kennedy,” he answered quickly. “And dinner, weather permitting. I should have her back before nine, if that’s acceptable!” He shrunk back a bit when Leon did not immediately answer him, hand finding the back of his neck nervously. “Or, how about eight?” Another pause. “Seven-thirty?” “Nine is fine, Julian.” Leon cast an almost betrayed look to you as you appeared back into the foyer with Elena by your side, one of the peonies trimmed and tucked securely behind her ear. “But not a minute later, you understand?” Julian’s attention was no longer on Leon or you, but rather on your daughter. Eyebrows raised, studying her features as if he had just been given the gift of sight for the first time. “Y-yes, ma’am,” he finally breathed, blinking back to his reality after a lengthy pause. Clearing his throat, he smiled and extended his arm to Elena. “Nine o’clock on the dot.” “Or earlier,” Leon mumbled, earning a gentle elbow to the side from you. 

“Nine o’clock,” you echoed, nodding. “Now, you two go have fun. Don’t be late!” “We won’t, mom!” Elena laughed, giving you a quick hug in goodbye before making her way to Leon. “Bye, daddy.” She squeezed him tightly, not commenting on the firm hug he returned to her. “Bye, sweetheart. You have fun, okay?” Her lips met his cheek as he reluctantly let go of his daughter, his arm finding its place back at your side now as he watched her disappear from his space back to that young man’s side. Oh, how he wanted to freeze this moment before she stepped out that door, still in the time where she was his little girl and not someone else’s almost-something. But, as much as he wished, he couldn’t, so his only other option was to school his voice into steadiness despite the ache and bid them safety while they were out. 

His grip on you was bordering on too tight as the two teenagers walked out of that door, cutting the proverbial cord of needing her parents and forging her way towards the independent young woman that he had raised with you. 

Breaking away to close the door behind them, Leon let his hand linger against the wood of the door after flipping the latch, as if he could will it to open again and bring her right back inside. But as he heard the telltale sign of crunching gravel under tires, he took in a slow, shuddering breath before straightening and turning to look back at the house that you two had built together. Sock-clad feet skid across the hardwood of the foyer in his mind, excited giggling a harbinger of the beautiful chaos that filled their home the nights he hadn’t been out on a mission. Your voice floating by in her wake, reminding her to slow down between laughter of your own. Each room in this house brought with it a memory of its own, each a perfect piece in the puzzle that was his precious little girl. The living room couch where they’d fallen asleep together countless times when he’d promised her they could watch a movie with her. The kitchen chairs at the edge of their bar, once too tall for her to sit in without climbing them like a mountain– or his favorite, standing by his side with her arms extended for him to pick her up. The fading marks on her bedroom door where they’d measured her growth, where she’d once made a marking of her own to insist she had grown into a big girl overnight.

This was life, he reminded himself as he wordlessly made his way through the house, stepping past you without any indication of where he was going. Their goal as parents were to safely guide Elena from infancy to adulthood and mold her into a respectable adult. Somewhere between the scraped knees, hard math lessons and homework that even her parents couldn’t figure out sometimes, those years and experiences had somehow all come together to pave a beautiful past to the present and toward the future. Watching her come into her own over the years they had known each other was one of his greatest sources of pride, standing near as she put pieces of herself into the world to reflect her own identity despite being born from two others. 

So why did it feel like he hadn’t been given nearly enough time?

“Hey.” Your voice was soft, hushed, as if speaking any louder would spook him and close him off to you. “You okay?” Looking around from his wife to the room that he had wandered to without quite realizing, Leon blinked away his thoughts. “Yeah,” he answered just a bit too quickly, once again. “Yeah, feel like a million bucks.” Not quite believing him, you quietly nodded your head, stepping closer to him and letting your hand begin to gently traverse the space between his shoulders, exhaling contentedly as his own came to pull you closer, resting in the dip of your waist. You followed his gaze to study… your home office? One look back at his face, soft with longing and the remembrance of something that was no longer there, was enough to clue you in to what he was thinking about. 

“Do you remember that ungodly green we had painted the walls?” It was supposed to be a woodsy hue, fit to be a backdrop for the botanical scene you had planned to paint the walls of Elena’s nursery with, but it wasn’t until three walls had been done that the two of you had realized that the color was not correct at all. “That poor peony was cursed to live on the world’s ugliest bush.”

Looking at the slight grin you had pulled onto the corner of your husband’s mouth, you continued. “Her crib was in the corner over there next to the raccoon you’d painted.” Now covered with beige. “Yeah,” he barked a chuckle, voice tense with something he did not want to welcome. “What the hell were we thinking?” “Certainly not about a cohesive theme.” “Not at all.” He squeezed your waist one more before pulling you closer, pressing his chest to your back and migrating his hands to wrap around you. His face found the apex of your neck and shoulder as he held you tightly, shoulders shaking in perfect cadence with his trembling respiration. “Not that she spent much time in that crib, anyways.”

It was your turn to laugh, now. “No she did not.” You hummed, looking around the room that once housed the beginning of their family, their baby girl. “...Do you remember the first time we brought her home?” His next breath was a quiet sob. He absolutely remembered bringing her home.

“You’re sure you’re feeling up to it?” Blue eyes met yours as the new father adjusted the car seat on his forearm, watching as you adjusted your hold on the infant that was about to find her way into it. “They did give you the option to stay another night if-” “Le, we’re fine,” you assured him, not looking away from the infant in your arms for another few moments. “I promise.” Leon steps up next to you, peering over your shoulder at his daughter, his Elena Rose Kennedy. He stares at the perfect little bundle as if she was sacred- though perhaps she was to him- his attention flitting between her and you as you slowly walked beside him, keeping a careful eye on both of his girls. The parking lot is a gentle thrum of activity. Car engines rolling past slowly, idle chatter of patrons and staff alike loitering outside. But to him, everything felt so much louder than it was, a threat to the precious sleep his daughter was getting in your arms. That was something that the world did not get to touch, he decided then, her peace. Opening the car door for you first, Leon leaned into the backseat of the vehicle and ensured that the car seat was secure before stepping to the side and allowing you to tuck Elena into it with gentle hands. You were next, his hands guiding you into the backseat next to her and ensuring that you were safe, secure, and comfortable several times before he was content. Turning his attention back to the car seat one last time, he double and triple checked that everything was in working order, borderline obsessing over ensuring the safety of the infant snoozing away inside. “She’s not going anywhere, Leon.” Warmth tinges his face as he clears his throat, eyes taking in your tired yet radiant features for the umpteenth time since they had gotten to the hospital to welcome your daughter. “I know, I just…I’m making sure.” “You’ve checked her car seat three times already. Trust me, she’s as snug as can be in there.” Leon took a steadying breath before nodding. Straightening up, he hesitated in withdrawing his hands, debating one last once-over of the carseat before they left. The drive home saw Leon driving below the speed limit, his eyes flickering between the road and the rearview mirror every few seconds. “You two good back there?” He asked again. “I’m not going too fast?” “Nope. You’re going under the speed limit, actually.” Your statement was punctuated by the fading sound of a horn as a driver in the next lane passed him by. Leon’s hands tightened against the wheel, shoulders set as he focused on getting you and Elena home safe. “You’re a good driver when I’m with you, Leon. I think you’ll be fine to go a little closer to the limit.”

“I know, I know. What if it’s too fast for her though?” Your eyes met his in the rearview, and a brow arched in amusement. “I…I think she’s more concerned with sleeping, right about now.” Her finger found the sleeping baby’s cheek and brushed against it softly, smiling at the small whine she made as she stretched. “What was that? Is she okay?” “She made a noise, Leon. She’s a baby, they do that when they’re discovering their voices.” You laughed, shaking your head. “You make that same noise when you stretch, too. Must take after you, then.” In that manner, at least. Elena was already a carbon copy of her mother in coloring- if she did not end up with his eyes, he would wonder if his genes even tried. But she was perfect either way. 

“Yeah, she is.” Your response made him realize that he had been thinking aloud, and he went silent for a moment. Your eyes moved to meet his in the rear view once again. “You’re doing great, you know. The whole dad thing.” “Doesn’t feel like it,” he admitted to you with a sigh. “But… that will be for later. Are you okay? Do you need anything? Heater? Air conditioner?” He reached to adjust the air vents to blow towards them better. ”Do I need to pull over?” “Leon.” Your voice was soft yet firm. “We’re both okay. Relax. Just breathe.” Ironic, that had been his line only one day earlier. “I’m okay, Elena’s okay. I promise.” The rest of the drive passed in relative silence with the exception of the occasional noise from the infant, or soft cooing from the backseat as you talked quietly to her. When he finally pulled into the driveway in front of your shared home, he took a minute to just sit with his hands on the wheel, preparing himself. 

He was out of the car and walking around to your side to open the door and help you out. “This is it,” he smiled shakily, hands moving from where he’d steadied them on your upper arms to frame your face, just watching you for a moment. Pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead, he closed his eyes and inhaled the familiarity of you before pulling away to retrieve Elena’s carseat. “Hey, princess. C’mere.” Lifting her into his arms, Leon swore he stopped breathing when she settled against him, perfectly, as if she was made for his hold. Her little arms swinging in the startle reflex at being moved, whining lowly before calming again as he adjusted her blanket. “There we go. Daddy’s got you.” Always. 

Bringing her into the house, things were different. Not in a bad way, but there was a noticeable shift in the air. An excitement, as if the world had settled into place just right in this moment. It was quieter. Fuller. “I think we’ve got a pretty good handle on this whole parenting thing.” You sidled up to him, looking down at Elena with an expression so soft he thought he would melt. “First night by ourselves. You ready?” He nodded. “I don’t think I’ve ever been more ready.” Leaning down, he shifted Elena into one arm before using his free hand to tilt your chin up to him, capturing your lips in an embrace that said everything he couldn’t put into words right now. His love for you, for your daughter. His hope for their future together. “Want to show her the nursery?” Your eyes sparkled with excitement at the prospect of finally putting their carefully-planned nursery into use. Leon nodded, letting you lead the way to what was now their daughter’s room. He crossed the threshold carefully, slowly, and he draws Elena closer when she stirs in his arms again. “Hi, sweetheart,” he whispers, clearly in awe of the life that the two of you had made together, as she opened her eyes to look up at him. “This is your room. Isn’t it pretty? Mom put a lot of effort into it, you know.”

Immediately, he’s engrossed in giving the baby (who had since gone back to sleep) a tour of the room, talking quietly to her about the plans they’d made, the details they’d included. He showed her each of the stuffed animals they’d collected for her, the pictures of their family hanging on the wall. “And this is you…” he whispered, baby blue eyes focusing on the ultrasound he had insisted on framing. Still not quite believing that this wasn’t some sort of cruel dream, Leon adjusted Elena in his grasp, holding her in front of him so that he could look between her and the grainy black and white photo, wondering just how he had gotten so lucky. That she was real. 

You, in the meantime, settled into the rocking chair in the corner of the room, watching your husband fondly cradle your newborn as everything settles in– the new responsibility that you now held and would hold into the future, but also the overwhelming love that was rooted so deeply, it was almost as if it had always been part of their home there. Perhaps it had. They were going to be just fine.

“When did she grow up?” Leon’s voice cracked as he held you tighter. “She’s going on a date. She’s too little for that.” “She’s old enough to start making some decisions for herself.” Pulling yourself from his embrace, you turned around to hold his face between your hands. Like this, there was no hiding the redness of hs eyes, the salty trails streaking across his face as he tried and failed to stop his emotions from winning this time. “Hey, it’s okay. We’re okay.” Your thumb brushed the tears away softly, giving him a small smile even as you felt the sting of your own eyes growing misty, the edges of your vision blurry. “Nobody tells you it goes so fast. She was crawling into our bed during thunderstorms a week ago. We were still holding her bottle for her the week before that.” He wiped his face, though it remained in his eyes as he leaned into your touch, turning his face to press a kiss to your palm. One hand came to hold your wrist there. “And now she doesn’t need us to hold the bottle for her anymore. She’s learned how to. But, fuck, I want to hold that bottle for her if only one more time. She’s almost an adult, (Y/N). Boys are bringing her flowers.” You didn’t realize that your own tears had begun to fall until his calloused thumb brushed yours away in turn. “He learned her favorite flowers.” Perhaps that boy would be worthy to earn her heart one day. That was, after all, what you had always told Elena. Leon had taken the time to learn your own favorites before you married, flowers and sweets and songs, and it was then that you had known that he was your future. 

“That’s even worse.” You choked on your words, fighting for dominance against a sob. “It’s going to hurt. We’re losing the version of her that held our hands going down stairs or crossing the street, that stood on your toes when she wanted to dance with you. But… We’re gaining a version of her that is independent and ready to go experience the world for herself. She’s ready, Leon. We’ve given her almost seventeen years to see the kind of love that she deserves.” Your fingers came to card through his hair, brushing back the silver- streaked blonde. “And if Julian, or any other boy that may come her way, does anything to hurt her… she’ll always have her dad there to kick their ass.” He chuckled, the storm in his chest quelled ever slightly more. You were right. They weren’t losing Elena entirely, so much as opening the door to welcome the next chapter of her life. His eyes looked around the office that had been her nursery once again, this time as something that had been instead of something that was lost to time. 

“How are you so good at this?” His lips found your forehead once again, lingering there before he pulled back to tilt your chin upwards. Holding you there for a few moments, his other hand traced the crow’s feet at the corner of your eyes, the evidence of the years of laughter they’d shared together through everything. Your own hair now was showing signs of silvering in some spots, too, but you were arguably the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. You had married him, given him a child that never ceased to amaze him, stayed with him even on the days where his job and the lifestyle it commanded became too much. You had aged together, seen countless mornings and nights next to each other. Your fair share of disagreements. His struggles with sobriety, where you were a constant presence guiding him to a better way. Saving him in more ways than he could possibly count.

“I’ve had a few years to get used to it.” You leaned into his embrace again, pressing a kiss of your own to his palm, mirroring his earlier action to you. The pair of you stayed in this comfortable silence for a few slow minutes, holding each other closely and cherishing this time together. Your baby girl was growing up, and you wouldn’t have been able to get her there without Leon by your side. “Come on,” you whispered, pressing your lips to his in another chaste kiss and resting your forehead on his, not wanting to pull away quite yet. “What do you say to ordering takeout from that place Chris recommended to us? Movie night until our girl gets home?” Leon nodded with an exhale. “Sounds perfect.” The vice on his heart eased further, because you were right. 

And later, when headlights brushed across the paint of the living room wall through the window hours later at exactly 8:30, Leon didn’t rush to the door. Instead, he remained where he sat with you tucked against him, listening for the sound of Elena’s key in the lock. Because as far as she would step into her own life, she would always find her way back home to you. 

Moon and star dividers by @/strangergraphics, and flower divider by @/cillmequick ! Notes: This one came to me in a dream after a close friend of mine and I were talking about how we really couldn't believe my godchild was so big already. In that note, big thank you to the couple of friends I interviewed about various topics to make sure the feelings here were as accurate as can be! Likes, comments in tags and thoughts ALWAYS appreciated! I feed off of knowing y'all like what I write And, as ALWAYS, do not feed any of my works through AI systems of any sort. Keep AI out of creative spaces.

[familyvideostevie]

no matter how it ends

leon s kennedy x reader | 8.4k

a mission goes awry when you're infected with a fever virus...and there's only one way to cure you.

warnings: smut, fem!reader, sometime after re4!leon, sex pollen (kind of), possible dubious consent 'cause it's fuck or die but really everyone here wants to be there and consents heartily, feelings realization, confessions, desperate sex turned tender sex, dry humping, fingering, p in v sex, oral (f receiving), leon kennedy one liners, canon-typical violence, a few sneaky references to other re games/movies, fake science i made up

a/n: picture your favorite leon for this. it was just sex pollen but became lots of plot with sex pollen and mush in the second half. what can i say, i'm a lover at heart. just like leon!

--

It starts with bad intel.

The facility is supposed to be abandoned. No bio signatures on the initial recon scan, no movement from hostiles after an extended stakeout, nothing. An abandoned underground lab for an experimental arm of Umbrella, potentially full of important documents on bioweapons research.

Your mission is to gather as much information as possible, should any of the viruses created there pop up on the black market or worse.

Easy, compared to the shit you're usually assigned.

Leon agrees.

Well, you think he agrees. He treats every mission as seriously as the last. You've grown to appreciate his consistency. It makes him easy to trust, which is essential in this line of work.

He's the best partner you've ever had. Thorough, direct, and smart. He never questions your abilities and relies on you just as much as you rely on him.

And, god. He's kind. Funny, too, when he wants to be. One time on a weeklong stakeout in the middle of nowhere, Argentina, he explained to you, in detail, the plot of The Count of Monte Cristo, all because you said you'd never read it. You hadn't even known he liked to read.

He's hard to crack, though. Professional to a fault, more dedicated to the cause than anyone you've ever met. And he's handsome.

How could you not fall in love with him?

You keep your ever-growing feelings to yourself. Asking him if he feels the same isn't worth ruining your partnership, isn't worth being someone else who wants something from him that he maybe can't give. Not when you can have him this way -- at your side with your life in his hands, his in yours.

In some ways, this is more intimate than any regular relationship you've ever had.

You'd spent the chopper ride here watching him as he looked out the window, even though you knew he felt your gaze. He's always doing that, always taking in everything around him with militant attention. You wonder what he sees that most people don't. Connections, patterns, maybe even beauty. You've never asked. Whatever it is has kept him alive this long. It's kept you alive, too.

And so, the mission.

You drop from a very long hatch into dark, stale air. The ladder leaves your hands aching and your shoulders tight, but there's no time for recovery.

Training takes over. Leon leads, with you at his right flank. Flashlights on, service weapon at the ready.

"Stay sharp," he says.

Sometimes you tease him about it, his constant readiness for a threat. But you feel it this time. Something's not right here, scans be damned.

Flecks of dust and grime float through your bright beams. The corridor ends maybe 15 meters in front of you in a set of metal doors, no windows. The security pad on the left side blinks a dull red.

"Emergency power," you say.

It was in the brief as a possibility but not a guarantee. Leon approaches, and you follow, digging into one of your belt pockets for the access card some other agent had to steal last week for this purpose.

"You want to do the honors?" you ask.

Leon shakes his head. "Be my guest."

The red light blinks green with a hover of your hand, and the unlocking mechanisms creak to life. The doors open slowly with a hiss. You're greeted with a dark lobby, dull yellowish lights lining the base of the walls.

"Must be on throughout," Leon says. Sometimes these places are zoned, or some other needlessly complicated system of power distribution. "Hopefully that means doors will keep opening."

He's still tense, arms outstretched to shine his light into the new space, shoulders taut. You feel it too, a prickle at the base of your neck.

"If not, I'm sure the power systems will be super easy to find with no issues," you say lightly.

He huffs, as close to a laugh as you can hope for at the start of a mission, but it's a win.

"Ready?" he asks.

You dip your chin. He glides into the room, clearing one side as you clear the other. There aren't any signs of disturbance, but that's how it goes with these places. The closer you get to the exit, the more normal it seems -- because all of the horrible things happen behind closed doors.

And no one makes it out.

"Clear," Leon calls. You echo it.

There are two single doors that reveal a bathroom hallway and the security office, as well as a set of double doors that resemble the locked entrance, another keypad glowing red at one side. Leon finds a map of the facility in the office and spreads it on the desk.

"That locked door will take us to an elevator that goes down to the labs," he says, tracing the path with a finger under the beam of his flashlight. "Three of them, all on different levels, connected by staircases instead of the elevator shaft, only accessible by keycard and on the other side of an anti-contamination corridor."

"Isolated," you observe. "In case of an outbreak?"

"It's bare bones compared to the other Umbrella stuff we've seen. This must be really out-there shit. Less resources, less of a footprint, less of an issue when it goes wrong."

You try to commit the map to memory. Leon will undoubtedly fold it into one of his pockets, but it's hard to consult a piece of paper when you're running from a B.O.W..

Level B1: MENIS, Level B2: KAMATOS, Level B3: PYRETOS

"Greek," Leon mutters. "More creative than T-virus, that's for sure."

This is just like him, surprising you after countless missions as your partner.

"Do you speak Greek, Leon?"

He shrugs.

"Not really." He tightens the strap on his glove, a cue that he's frustrated. You know most of his tells by now. "I don't know the last one. Fire, maybe?"

"Not really, he says," you tease. "What else are you hiding, Kennedy?"

He rolls his eyes at you, but if the lights were on, you're sure you'd see some pink in his cheeks. Battle-hardened agent he may be, Leon S. Kennedy still blushes for you.

If only...

No. You swallow the pang in your chest and roll your shoulders. "Start with B1 and go down, then loop back up?"

It wouldn't be out of the question to divide and conquer, but the slimy unease dripping down your spine prevents you from suggesting it.

He grunts his agreement, eyes still on the map, frowning.

As a pair, you work so well together because of your communication. It took practice, sure, but now you know each other across a crowded room, through the heat of a fight, in the dark. You don't let things go unsaid.

Well, most things, your traitorous heart says.

"Leon," you say. "It feels off, right? We're missing something."

Blue eyes meet yours. He sighs.

"Yeah," he says. "Guess we just have to find out what."

You can't help it -- you put your hand on his bicep and squeeze just a little, holding his gaze. His fringe hangs in his eyes. In another life, you'd push it back.

"Be careful, okay?" you ask him, faces so close you can feel his breath.

Leon got shot on your second ever mission together. It was a clean wound, through and through, except for the fact that he'd already been shot in that shoulder back in Raccoon City. The bullet fucked up the already fragile joint, so he needed surgery and was benched for six weeks (he was back at your side in four).

There was nothing you could have done. It was nobody's fault. But you felt responsible for waylaying your new partner, who was one of the most well-known agents in the whole damn place, so you went to see him in the hospital to alleviate your guilt.

"They have you with anyone while I'm out?" he asked you.

They did, actually, but hadn't told you who. Leon was troubled by it.

"Well, be careful," he said, as if he didn't trust anyone else to watch your back, even then.

"Only as careful as you," you replied, pointing at his shoulder.

That was the first time you made Leon Kennedy laugh.

Now, it's something you say to each other in the field. A mantra, a reminder, a promise.

Leon gives you a small smile.

"Only as careful as you," he replies, like he always does. We keep each other safe.

You release him and busy your hand at your belt immediately, god forbid you touch him more.

He rolls his shoulders back and checks the chamber of his sidearm.

"Into the depths, huh?"

"Into the depths."

--

Level B1: MENIS

The elevator opens to a dead contamination chamber. Nothing happens as you walk through the three zones where you'd expect to be scanned, doused, and dried. Another set of metal doors opens with a hiss when you tap the keycard. The smell of death hits your nose and makes your eyes water.

There are at least 10 bodies piled on the other side, most of them in pieces.

"Fuck," you curse, sidestepping a caved-in head.

"Looks like the party started without us," Leon says quietly.

"Great," you mutter. "God, that's nasty."

There aren't any claw marks or avid stains or other tell-tale signs of B.O.W.'s you see with this caliber of violence. One look at Leon and you know he's realized the same thing. You tilt your head down the hall. He nods, following your lead deeper into the floor.

Red emergency lights pulse along the base of the walls, illuminating the blood splattered pretty much everywhere. You pass the occasional corpse, most of them so horribly disfigured it's hard to tell if they were staff or test subjects or something else.

There are so many things you want to say, but you keep them to yourself until Leon leads you to the floor's main office. You slide in but don't relax.

"They look like they were torn apart," you say as soon as the door is closed. Leon frowns at you, since you didn't clear the room first, but it's a square office. You can see all the corners from where you're standing.

"I know," he replies. "But no sign of what did it."

You sigh. "So, are you going to tell Hunnigan the location survey was wrong, or should I?"

"I think I've run out of my 'bad news' calls for the year," he says. "That one's all yours once we get topside."

"How generous of you."

Leon smirks. "I'm a giver."

The office is small and the computers are dead. There are papers scattered around, so you divide and conquer.

You find an official logbook. Mostly in-the-weeds science stuff, but you skim until you find a change in handwriting.

LOG #57:

Development continues under new staff. Blood transmission remains the only method that carries enough sample to infect a host; airborne tests were unsuccessful. Vaccine/suppressant formulas abandoned for the time being after we were told that our subject supply would be steady. B2 wants to set one of theirs against one of ours, which seems pointless because any B1 subject will win that fight. B3 is a joke, but they're insistent that it'll work.

No vaccine...that's not good news. But what were they actually testing here? Infecting people with what?

You flip more pages until you find something that makes your blood run cold.

LOG #63:

We've finally gotten a host to survive. B2 and B3 are nowhere near this. We won't be sharing. Their subjects die within hours. B3 is practically useless, anyway. What use is controlling people if they die on you in an hour? But here, we've cracked it. I managed to figure out how to get the virus to work with the host's adrenaline production, stabilizing it into a constant state of fight or flight without short-circuiting the nervous system. If this batch survives the week, we'll ask permission to start on the suppressant. Once we have that, we'll be able to control the whole herd. The future of hostile takeover is here! Now, if only they'd let us out of this fucking dungeon more often…

Holy shit. They were making viruses to infect large populations, to control them. But using what? Changing their brain chemicals, making them reliant on suppressants? Leon told you about this kind of manipulation, how it infiltrated a military unit and even made its way to the White House a few years ago. Who knows how far they got this time?

"Leon," you call, turning with the folder in your hands. "You should look at this --"

You make eye contact and fall silent. He's got his finger over his lips and his gun at the ready. 

You toss the papers aside and take your place on the other side of the door.

That's when you hear it.

Groans, grunts, screams. Footsteps -- a lot of them.

He holds your gaze.

Clear the chokepoint, get into the lab rooms down the hall around the corner, make for the stairwell on the other side of the floor.

That's what you'd do, so you know it's what he's thinking, too. No confirmation needed.

The door bursts open. You duck, missing the arms reaching for your neck. It's dark in here, but you rely on muscle memory and gravity to sweep the zombie's legs out from under it and stomp on its head while you fire at the next one.

The attackers are -- well, they look mostly human. But their eyes are wild, blood running down their faces like tears, pink foam and spit dripping from their mouths.

Leon's movements are sharp and decisive. Headshot, parry, twist. Uppercut, knee sweep, headshot. He occupies the air around you like he's magnetized to your movements, always filling the space where you aren't, ceding room when you need it. After hours upon hours of mat practice between the two of you and hundreds of field opportunities to master it, you work together like a well-oiled machine.

It's exhilarating.

You're forced back from the door, but you keep firing, slicing, covering each other. It's essential that you get into the hall sooner rather than later to avoid being trapped in this room.

A zombie rips the arm off another in its attempt to get to you. That's new.

"What the fuck were they doing with this shit?" Leon grunts. He's splattered with blood now. No doubt you are too.

"That's what I was going to tell you before our party of two got crashed," you say between shots. 

"They wanted to control people."

"Yeah, this sure looks like control to me!"

"We have to clear it or we'll have to fight through on our way back up."

Leon grunts his agreement. "They're not biting." His aim is true, as always. He downs two, three, four infected. "They just want to rip us apart!"

"We need to go into the hall. Cover me," you say, dodging bloody fingers and sliding through the door. "Switching weapons!"

Your assault rifle is strapped to your back. You holster your pistol and reach around for it, but something catches your jacket and pulls.

The fabric tears. For a split second, you worry your flesh will be next, but then the tug disappears. Leon grunts and he breaks the neck of whatever had you.

You keep your gaze on the approaching pack, maybe 10 or 15 strong. Leon keeps taking them down while you holster your pistol and check the new cartridge.

"Gonna need to reload in a second here," he calls. "Six left. Five. Four --"

"Ready," you shout. Leon stabs a zombie in the neck and walks behind it, using it as a wall against reaching fingers until he's at your side again. He tears his knife free and slides beside you, solid, ready.

You open fire.

That's all it takes. The hallway is soon empty and bloodier than before. All you can hear is your combined panting.

Leon lowers his gun. "Nice job," he says.

You drop yours, too. "What was this floor called again? Menace?"

"Basically," he says, slamming in a new clip. "Divine wrath or anger."

"No shit." You look down at the tear in your jacket. "God damnit, this is my favorite."

Leon checks his chamber. "I'll get you a new one," he says.

You laugh. He almost smiles, like that was his goal all along.

The rest of the floor is mostly clear. A few stragglers here and there, but they're no match for the two of you. The containment chambers seem to be where the infected gathered in the months since this facility went dark -- the walls are covered in scratch marks.

"I can't believe they didn't kill each other," Leon says with mild disgust. "Not having control of yourself like that...I wouldn't wish it on anyone."

You've read the report from Spain. He knows how it feels.

"Do you think they're aware?" you wonder aloud.

He looks so sad for a moment that you almost reach for him. "I hope not."

--

Level B2: KAMATOS

The stairwell is a mess. The door to B2 is barricaded, but you manage to get through after slamming your shoulders against it over and over.

This floor is quiet, but in a different way than upstairs. Years of field-trained instincts tell you there's nothing left alive on this floor. That, and it made a hell of a lot of noise getting the door open, and nothing popped out.

It's dustier down here, like things have been still for longer.

"What's this one mean?" you ask. "This virus."

"Extreme fatigue," Leon tells you.

"So if they controlled adrenaline levels on the first floor to make them angry, they're depriving people of sleep on this floor?"

He shrugs. "Maybe they found a way to keep the brain awake without killing it."

They did not.

The documents you find suggest the virus was a failure. The bodies you find confirm it. Hosts died from heart failure, self-inflicted wounds, a number of things, no matter what the scientists did to keep the mind from giving up. All by depriving them of sleep.

Being so tired that you see no other way out…

The horror of it all rises in your throat. You leave Leon with the corpses so you can press your forehead to the cool hallway wall.

This job asks a lot of you. Your time, your well-being. Your security, your personal relationships, your hobbies. It's overwhelming and can bury a person. The things you see, the things you do -- it gets to you. It’s easy to shove it down, to pretend like you're untouchable, but that's no way to live, either.

Sometimes you just have to feel it.

These poor people.

Leon's hand is light on your shoulder. Not patronizing, not rushing, just there. Warm, solid.

You take a deep breath, then stand up straight.

"Let's take a quick break before the last floor," Leon says.

"I'm fine."

You turn to face him, but he's already crouching, back against the wall.

He grins, a real smile this time. It makes him look younger. "Who said it was for you?"

It's like he's giving you permission to put it all down for a second. To forget where you are, why you're there, what you're doing. Leon's guard is rarely fully down, and right now he's telling you that he's got you. Rest for a second, I'll take care of us.

He's proven to you over and over that he will.

So you smile back, shaky but genuine. "Getting old, Kennedy?"

"Something like that." He looks up at you, grin softening into something fond. "Do you remember Greece?"

You slide down the wall to his level. "Do I remember Greece? Be serious. How could I forget --"

"All those stairs," Leon finishes. "Exactly."

It was last year in the height of summer. A small, sleepy cliffside town, except for the fact that a scummy billionaire moved into the monastery and started developing B.O.W.'s in the catacombs.

The town was evacuated. You were sent in to apprehend the guy and secure whatever virus he was using. It turned into three days of running up and down stone staircases away from bats with tentacles and lizards with thousands of teeth where you wouldn't expect teeth to be.

Over the course of your partnership, you've seen each other in all states, but you've never seen Leon as exhausted as he was after that mission.

"I thought I was going to have to carry you to the rendezvous point," you remind him. "You fell down so many stairs."

Leon rubs his knees as if remembering the way they smacked stone over and over.

"And you would have," he says.

He catches your gaze and holds it. He's reminding you that you're in this together. That he trusts you, something you do not take lightly. It's hard to know who you can trust in this job, even your very own employer, but he never doubts you. You never doubt him.

The familiar ache of everything you feel for him sits warm and heavy on your chest. He's the best man you've ever known.

"I would have," you say.

Leon dips his chin, his mouth curling into a smaller smile than before, but this one is just as fond.

"We should go back," you say without meaning to.

It surprises him, but he hides it well.

"That would be nice," he muses. "I don't know the last time I took a vacation."

"We could go to the beach," you continue. It's scarily easy to imagine -- Leon in swim trunks, cheeks pink from the sun. "Stay at the bottom of the stairs and not walk up a single one."

"But you liked the monastery," he reminds you. "We'd have to go back up to see the windows."

Of course he remembers how you'd looked up in awe at the stained glass, gun in your hand and blood on your face.

"I'll climb up by myself. You can relax."

Leon sighs. "Relax," he says. "I don't even know if I know how to do that."

"You're good at everything," you say. "You'll pick it up in no time."

Whatever game this is, you're having too much fun playing it. Leon doesn't lie to you, so while he might be indulging you, there's a part of him that means all of this. He has to know that you mean it, too.

He stands and offers you his hand.

"One more floor," he says. "Then we can go to Greece."

--

Level B3: PYRETOS

The hit comes out of nowhere.

Maybe you're distracted by talk of vacation, or your guard is down after the silence of B2, but you don't see it coming. One second you're rounding the corner, the next you're flying backwards through glass, back slamming against a cabinet. You land heavily on the ground, more glass and something wet raining down on you.

Leon yells your name.

You try to catch your breath, but it's stuck in your chest. He's still calling for you in between gunshots.

"Fuck," you croak, finally finding air. You roll onto your side. Glass crunches under your weight as you try to figure out what the hell just happened.

Everything hurts, but you try to shake it off and push up to standing. Leon hauls himself through the broken window. He begins to clear the room after he sees you on your feet.

"Clear. That was one ugly son of a bitch," he says. "Must have gotten down here from upstairs."

You open your mouth to say something, anything, but the words catch in your throat.

Something isn't right.

Your skin feels tight, like you already went on vacation and got burned to a crisp. Your pulse won't slow. Deep breaths feel impossible. Strangest of all, it's almost like –

Well, your core is buzzing. You press your legs together and try not to panic.

In the early days, after Leon got shot but well before Greece, you hid an injury from him.

You took a knife to the ribs during a fight. It wasn't too deep, but it was wide and bleeding steadily. Adrenaline allowed you to get through it. You figured you could patch yourself up the next time you slowed. But Leon pushed on ahead, and you followed without saying anything.

That is, until you left a bloody handprint on a door. He stopped immediately.

"Is that yours?" he said. "Where are you hurt?"

"It's nothing," you protested. But Leon S. Kennedy does not give up easily.

"Show me," he said, pulling out bandages from his hip pouch. "When did this happen?"

"I'm not compromised," you said, even as you lifted your jacket to show him.

"I know you aren't," he said. "I want to know when you're hurt so I can make sure you're okay."

"I'm fine," you said weakly. He patched you up quickly and thoroughly.

"We're partners," he told you. "We have to help each other."

Here, now, you don’t hide from him.

"Leon," you croak. "Something's wrong. I think I --"

He's at your side in an instant, so close your breath hitches. Why are you so affected by him? Why are you so warm?

"The rip in your jacket," Leon says. "Your arm is bleeding."

"Liquid," you gasp. "It felt wet when I hit the cabinet."

The pieces come together. Shattered vials at your feet, an empty cabinet behind you. The dull red emergency lights make it hard to tell what color the puddle is, but you know it can't be good.

"They wouldn't keep a virus out in the open, would they?" you ask weakly. You're shaking now, shivering even though you don't feel cold.

"Fever," he breathes. "Pyretos. It means fever."

You've rarely seen Leon afraid. He's human, so it happens, but normally he faces things head-on without complaint.

Right now, he looks terrified. That scares you more than anything.

"Leon," you whisper. "What do we do?"

He snaps into action. He hands you a roll of bandages.

"Wrap it," he says. He presses a few buttons on his watch until it beeps. Setting a timer, no doubt. Just in case. "How do you feel? Describe it to me."

"Feverish," you say. "But not dizzy. I can think clearly."

Leon starts to dig around the lab, tearing open drawers and rifling through what he finds. The office on this floor wasn't in the same place as the other two, so any information must be in here, right?

"What else?"

You follow his lead, desperately searching for anything helpful. How do you explain the fact that your entire body is pulsing with a very specific kind of need? It scares you, feeling this out of control physically while also being in your right mind.

You land on achey. The buzzing under your skin gets worse every minute you spend looking and finding fuck all.

"There's nothing here," he says, frustrated. "Shit."

You're thinking the same thing: no vaccines. Any hope for you is in this lab.

But then -- your eye catches on a cabinet sitting on deep grooves in the floor.

"There's a door," you tell him, already heading for it. A wave of need hits you so suddenly that you have to brace yourself on the wall to catch your breath. Leon brushes by you. The slight contact has you swallowing a moan.

Jesus Christ.

He shoves the cabinet aside. Behind it is a door that opens into the lab office, as dark as the others.

You follow him in and start searching the shelves. Leon drags a table into the perfect place to effectively barricade you in.

"We don't have time to be interrupted right now," he says. He starts searching the desk.

You're sweating now. If this thing is going to turn you, Leon can't be here for it. You don't want him to see it. "Maybe you should go back to the surface --"

"I'm not leaving you," he interrupts. It's sharp, final.

"But if I turn--"

Leon whirls around. "I'm not leaving you," he says again.

Your nose stings. It's not the rational choice, but it's the Leon Kennedy choice. You can't help but be grateful for it.

He returns to the papers. Everywhere your clothing touches your skin feels heavy, almost painful. Your skin is sensitive, your throat dry, breath still fast.

You're so turned on, you think you might explode. It's all you can do to just stand there and try to keep it together.

"I found something," Leon says. He says nothing else. It's hard to see his expression in the dark without being close to him. You don't know if you can handle that right now.

"Bad news, doc?"

He swallows and begins to read.

"In an effort to bend the subject to commands, a fever is introduced via the bloodstream that increases testosterone and dopamine to near-unbearable levels of arousal. We have successfully altered the balance to allow the mind to be unaffected, making the reaction purely physical. The fever, if detected and combated within 1 hour, can be reduced by repeated bursts of oxytocin until the subject's internal temperature returns to normal. Required oxytocin levels seem to vary by subject; no pattern discernible at this time."

"What the fuck does that mean?" you pant. Your skin feels too tight. You still can't take a full breath. Control is becoming a missed opportunity. "Do I have a sex fever?"

No answer.

"Leon."

He exhales sharply.

"I think you need to be touched," he says. "To release the chemical that will help you fight this on your own."

Your responding laugh edges on hysterical.

"I do have a sex fever. So, what, you're going to hug me and hope I don't die?"

"I could," he says. He runs a frustrated hand through his hair. "I just don't think it'll be enough. This says bursts, and a lot of them. The best way to trigger that kind of response is --"

It clicks in your mind.

"Orgasm," you whisper. "Oh, god."

Leon closes his eyes for a second too long.

"I don't know what to do," he admits. He looks at his watch. "It's been 10 minutes. I don't know what--"

"I'm so sorry," you breathe. The gravity of your situation is like a bucket of cold water. If only it actually made you feel cold. You have to fuck your partner or die. What kind of sick joke is this? "Leon, I'm so sorry. You don't have to do anything, this is my fault --"

He tosses the file onto the table.

"I'm not going to let you die," he says with all his usual conviction. He really believes it, and it makes it easier for you to believe it, too. "Not when there's something I can do about it."

"But not like this," you croak. "This is --"

"I know."

God, you wish the lights were on. You want to see every detail of his face to discern what he's feeling. Can you ask him to do this? Will it ruin everything forever?

A tremor wracks through you. You have to brace yourself on the desk.

He yanks open drawers until he finds a thermometer. It beeps alive, somehow, and he holds it up to your forehead.

"Shit," he mutters.

"What?"

Leon flips the device to show you the screen. 103.2.

"Shit," you echo.

Your brain is going to cook in your skull sooner rather than later. You swallow frustrated tears along with your pride.

"I'm so wet," you whisper. It's the lewdest thing you've ever said to him. "I can feel it."

Leon inhales sharply, standing ever-so-still just next to you, just out of reach.

The pain radiates through you, molten lava in your veins. It's strange to be able to think so clearly. You want Leon as badly as you always do. That's bearable. But the pain. The heat. It's something else, something all-consuming.

You need him to touch you.

"Please don't make me beg," you whimper, turning towards him.

"Jesus," he mutters, filling the space you make for him. His hands find your face. You groan. The contact is like a balm, even through his gloves.

"Oh god."

You nuzzle into his palms. It's like you can feel the battle in your blood, the virus doing its best to cook you from the inside out, but Leon's touch is giving you a foothold, a reprieve.

If it wasn't so awful, you'd laugh at the idea that you're so horny you might die.

"Whatever you need, I'll do," he says. His voice is already hoarse. "But just -- you have to tell me if it's not okay. And I'll stop. We'll figure something else out."

You lean back on the desk and grab his elbows. You've touched plenty, but never like this. Never loaded with all of the unspoken things between you, never with such desperation.

"It's okay," you tell him. "Whatever it takes, it's okay. I trust you."

His thigh slides between your legs.

"Can you forgive me? If I do this?" he whispers, lips so close to yours. You lean forward on instinct, pulled to him by more than just the fire in your core.

"There's nothing to forgive," you say, and then you're kissing.

What you need is an orgasm, but this is something you've wondered about for a long time. Something you've wanted. It almost feels selfish to take it now.

But, fuck, it's good.

He's not shy. You trace the seam of his lips with your tongue. He opens for you immediately, licking into your mouth as he pulls you forward and onto his thigh.

His kisses are desperate, exposing his worry, but also tender, exposing his care. You're in good hands, hands you love.

Even through your pants, the pressure of your cunt on his thigh is enough to steal your breath.

"God," you gasp.

"Not quite," Leon says, kissing a path from your mouth down your neck. "Does that help?"

You grind down on him in reply. His palms have made their way to your hips, aiding you in your quest for pressure on your core.

It's too much. It's not enough. But still, the coil tightens. "Sorry, I just need --"

You chase it, grinding down on his thigh even harder, panting into his neck. You're close, you can feel it. You're chasing it, that snap, that reward. Leon just lets you take and take and take.

You thread your fingers through his hair, panting into his neck. When you tug just a little, he bounces his leg and you keen.

"More, please."

It only takes three more bounces before you're coming, shudders ripping through you, his name on your lips.

When you return to your body, Leon is dragging his palm up and down your back.

"Did you just--"

You're becoming very familiar with the fabric of his shoulder, his leather harness pressing into your cheek.

"Mhm," you manage.

There's a world where you're embarrassed. In that world, you asked Leon out for dinner and then up to your place after. In that world, you made out on the couch and ground down on his thigh until you came. In that world, he laughed with you, utterly charmed, and it was the beginning of something wonderful.

In this one, he gently tilts you back so he can check your temperature with the thermometer.

"Holy shit," he breathes. "102.1. It worked."

You don't feel that different, but the number doesn't lie.

Leon is panting, too. "More?"

You nod. Your cunt aches like you didn't have an orgasm at all.

He tugs off a glove with his teeth, dropping it god knows where.

"Don't know how clean my hands are," he says.

A laugh bursts out of you, but it sounds close to a sob.

Two fingers go in his mouth faster than you can open yours. He doesn't waste too much time wetting them, given how turned on you already are, but he gives them a good suck. A trail of spit hangs from his lip when he finishes.

You work at the buttons of your pants, unbuckling your tactical belt. It clangs onto the desk behind you. Leon slides his hand down under the waistband of your panties. You collapse into him with a guttural moan.

"Leon," you gasp. He holds you up, no problem, even as you go utterly boneless at just his fingers in your folds.

"You weren't kidding," he says, breathy. "You are wet."

"I'm sorry," you pant into his shoulder.

"Please don't say sorry again," he groans. "I can't take it."

"Can I say thank you?"

"That's worse," he says, sliding two fingers into you at the same time. "I just wish it wasn't like this, is all."

The absurdity of the whole thing makes it hard to keep your emotional walls high. What's the point? You're having sex with your partner to save your life in an underground Umbrella laboratory. You're way past keeping your emotions from him.

So you hear his words for what they are. For what he's not saying.

"Oh, yeah?" He curls his fingers and you groan, arching into him. "You have something you want to tell me, Kennedy?"

"Little late for that."

He presses his lips to your jaw, but you pull back so you can see his eyes. He's flushed, his pupils taking over almost all of the blue you love so dearly.

"I always want to know how you feel," you tell him. It's honest, raw, perhaps out of place when he's knuckle deep in your cunt.

"Fuck," he breathes, like eye contact is enough to undo him.

"I just want to help you," he says. "I always want to help you when you need it." He picks up the pace with his fingers. "I like being the guy who has your back."

His thumb circles your clit. It’s all you can do to hang onto his shoulders and ride it out as he keeps talking.

"I want to give you everything you've ever wanted," he says. "I miss you when you leave the room. I trust you more than anyone I've ever met."

"Oh, Leon," you gasp, grinding down onto his hand. "Me too. Me too."

He scrapes his teeth along your neck. "Yeah?"

"Yes, yes, yes --"

The orgasm washes over you. You clench around him over and over. He carefully pulls his hand from your panties and licks his fingers. Good god.

Something has shifted between you. It's still about the mission, about breaking your fever, but now it's more. It's more, because you both want it.

Leon leans in for a kiss. You meet him halfway, tasting yourself on his lips.

Beep.

"101.3," he says.

You push his hair back from his forehead. "Is that low enough?"

This time, you do feel a bit different. Maybe it's the confirmation that Leon has feelings for you, but your muscles feel more relaxed, your skin less taut. The need still burns, though.

"There's no way to say this without sounding like a creep," he says wryly. "But I think you should have a few more."

You drag your hands up and down his torso, but your gaze lands on his makeshift barricade.

"Do we think we have time?"

Even as you ask, you're toeing off your boots and shoving your pants down. Leon is quick to help you.

"If anything comes through that door," he says, fingers hooked in your underwear, "I can kill it with my eyes closed."

He hooks his hand under your thighs and helps you up onto the desk fully, sweeping everything onto the ground.

"So could you," he adds. You hum in agreement. Your hand returns to his torso, trailing it down to the front of his pants.

He's hard.

It's not entirely a surprise, but you're pleased.

"I know, I'm sorry, it's kind of fucked up --" he tries. You don't let it get very far.

"Don't you apologize," you say. "You're allowed to want, Leon. I promise you, whatever you want, you can have. You already do."

His answer to that is a kiss, not searing and heated like before, but soft and slow. Like he's memorizing you, learning every inch of your mouth just because he can.

A wave of heat rolls through you, so intense and unexpected that you have to close your eyes and grit your teeth against the pain.

Leon rubs your back and tells you to breathe, it's okay, you're going to be okay.

The heat dulls. "How long has it been?" you ask through gritted teeth, eyes still shut.

"26 minutes."

His thumbs stroke your cheeks, helping you come back to yourself.

"Are you okay to keep going?" he asks. "I'll do whatever you want."

You reach for his belt with shaking hands. Not because you don't want him, or because you're scared, but because you need him. You need him to survive. This was just as true before you got infected as it is now. And you have him.

He has you.

Leon lets you unbuckle his pants as he undoes his harness and his tactical pouches. They both fall to the ground.

You take him in hand and he hisses. His cock is warm, another layer of heat against your already burning skin. His hips jerk when you stroke him root to tip.

His fingers circle your wrist to stop you.

"Another time," he says. He kisses your chin. "Okay?"

There will be another time. Leon doesn't say things he doesn't mean, so you take it to heart. This will happen again.

It's not exactly romantic, the way you lean back on some long-dead bioterrorist's desk naked from the waist down, Leon's pants shoved down his thighs and his cock in his hand. But it's what you've got, and it's what you'll take.

You spread your legs for him. He sucks in air like a man just saved from drowning.

"Ready?" he asks. You feel his tip at your entrance and can't swallow the moan that rips from your throat in the shape of his name. He wastes no more time sinking into you in one stroke.

You come immediately, legs wrapped around his hips. You might scream, it's hard to tell. But you're so full and it finally feels right. Like you've been missing something all along and finally found it.

Leon says your name over and over, like a mantra, like a prayer.

"I wish I could see you properly," he says, voice breaking. "I wish –

His hips jerk forward even though he's bottomed out. He leans forward until he's bracing his forearms on either side of your head, brushing your nose with his. He's right. It's hard to see him fully in the red-washed office.

"You know what I look like," you tell him.

"Not like this," he shakes his head. "Not like this."

"You're doing so good," you say, lips brushing the shell of his ear. "Leon, it feels so good --"

It's a strange sensation to feel your blood cooling while he's inside you, to regain control of your body just as you surrender your heart.

Leon starts to move his hips, a slow drag at first, but it quickly becomes a snap. You dig your fingers into his biceps and hold on. You can hear how wet you are as he fucks you.

The coil in your core tightens again. "Leon," you moan. "I'm gonna--"

He kisses you, hips slowing to a grind. He reaches between you with one hand to find your clit and give it some messy circles.

"Go ahead," he says against your mouth. "I can take it."

Your cunt clenches around him. Tears prick in your eyes not from overstimulation but from everything else -- the heat in your veins, the tenderness of his hold, the way he's kissing you as you fall apart, swallowing your gasps.

"So beautiful," he says. And god, it sounds like he means it. Half-dressed, sweaty and bandaged, he means it.

Leon goes back to shallow thrusts, but they're becoming more erratic.

"How many is that?"

"Four," Leon says.

"Are you..."

He nods. "I'm close."

His forehead is damp from the effort. You wipe it with the heel of your hand.

"It's okay," you tell him. "It's okay, Leon. You can --"

You tighten your legs around him to hold him inside.

His breath hitches, but he picks up the pace without argument.

The smack of your flesh fills the room. The only thing on your mind is Leon Leon Leon.

The noise he makes just before he comes inside you is a punched-out whine of your name. He stills above you entirely, eyes screwed shut in pleasure.

"So beautiful," you echo. "So beautiful, Leon."

He keeps his weight off you but presses his face into your neck as he catches his breath.

"Fuck," he says. "How do you feel?"

You need to check your temperature, but remarkably better. The heat in your veins is an expected one. You can feel sweat cooling on your skin. The incessant need in your cunt has dulled to a satiated ache.

"Still alive." You kiss him chastely, considering he's still inside you.

"Let me check -- where the hell did that thing go?"

He pulls out. You both hiss just a bit, but he finds the thermometer on the ground.

Beep.

"98.3," Leon says. "That's normal."

You feel boneless and make no move to get up from the desk. If you did, you'd surely make a mess.

"Finally, something normal about today."

Leon tucks his cock back into his briefs, buttons his pants. He drags his hands up and down your thighs.

"Can I clean you up?" he asks.

Even though you now know how he feels, know that he wants you just as much as you want him, he's done so much for you today. Your temperature is back to normal. You still need to make it back to the surface.

"You don't need to," you say. "Just...give me a clean bandage, or something --"

"Let me do this for you," he interrupts. Begs, really, already getting on his knees between your legs. "One more. Just to be safe."

The heat that builds is nothing like the wild, uncontrollable fire of before. This is all you, all Leon. 

The fact that he wants his mouth on you, wants to lick his own come from your cunt.

"Okay," you breathe. You thread your fingers through his hair. He preens.

He kisses the inside of your thigh and pushes your legs wider.

Maybe you should feel exposed, but you don't. You feel wanted. You feel safe.

Leon pulls your folds open with his thumbs. He starts with long licks with the flat of his tongue along your seam, flicking your clit when he reaches the top. But your entrance quickly becomes his focus, and suddenly he's a man possessed.

He laps up his own release as it drips from you, humming when you tug on his hair. He hardly comes up for air, but you know he's paying attention to your reactions based on the way he moves his mouth. He sucks on your clit. Your hips buck, so he does it again.

"Leon," you gasp. How is it possible that you're going to come again? But you feel it, the rising tide in your core. All it takes is a glance down to find him watching you, soaking in whatever he can see in the dim light.

He keeps his mouth on you through your final orgasm. This time, a few tears leak from your eyes. Your breath evens out and your heartbeat actually slows the way you expect it to. The fever is broken, you're certain of it.

"Just to be safe," you say to the ceiling. "You just wanted to show me how good you were at that."

Leon wipes his face with the back of his hand.

"I like to be thorough," he replies. He stands, drags your underwear and pants up with him. 

"Are you okay? How are the symptoms?"

"I think so." You scoot forward on the table so he can pull your clothes over your hips. "It doesn't feel like a fever anymore."

"What does it feel like?"

Your legs are a little shaky, but you stand and wrap your arms around him. You've just had sex to save your life, but you don't know if you've ever hugged Leon before.

"It feels like you," you tell him, cheek pressed to his shoulder.

Leon stills, but you can hear his heartbeat pick up. He envelops you in his embrace, lips pressed against your temple, his inhale shaky.

"I'm glad," he whispers. "I'm so fucking glad."

He's hidden his fear from you so well this whole time, but you saw the look on his face when he realized you were infected. You hug him tighter, willing the fear to leave him. You're okay. You're here, in his arms. He saved you.

"What now?" you ask. You turn in his arms. He releases you so you can reach for your tactical belt.

"We get out of here in one piece," he says. "We get you to medical."

"Fucking medical," you mutter. You shove your foot back in your discarded boot.

"I won't leave you there," Leon says. They could keep you for days, but you know he means it. "Then I'll take you home. And we'll sleep for days."

You almost forget that you don't have to keep your feelings from him. You let the joy take over your face. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," he says, a little sheepish. "If you want to."

"I want to," you assure him. "I want to."

You'll have to talk about this, surely. The way it changes your partnership, how to navigate field work. There is so much to learn about him. What he's like on a quiet morning at home instead of a stakeout. The noises you can pull from him in a real bedroom. His face when you tell him you love him.

The future is bright.

Leon buckles his harness. He laughs to himself, tearing you from your thoughts.

"What?"

He straightens your belt and grins crookedly, boyish and lovely.

"Are you writing this into the mission report, or am I?"

[lucifers-next-target]

LMAOOO IM CRYING AT THIS 😭😭

[a-dsoagent]

Do you promise? I promise.

Based on this request!!

SYNOPSIS: While not planned this early on, you and Leon are expecting and are welcoming it as much as you can with open arms. But then, Leon is personally requested for this high risk mission where his fate is not clear, but he will do anything if it means it will get him back to you.

PAIRING: RE4R!Leon Kennedy x Wife!Reader

WORD COUNT: 4.6k

WARNINGS/TAGS: A mix of both fluff and angst, good ending, established relationship (Leon and Reader are married), fem!reader, afab!reader, cursing, mention of smoking, description of second trimester pregnancy and its symptoms, weird cravings, sweet domestic moments, kissing, divergence of Resident Evil 4 Remake canon plot, canon typical Resident Evil violence, ganados, blood, gore, ADA WONG APPEARANCE (no bashing here, we like Ada on this blog), references to Krauser fights, Las Plagas and its symptoms, references to Luis Serra death scene, a lot of Leon’s stream of consciousness

NOTES: OMG I’ve been having the urges to write Dad!Leon recently, so thank you much Anon for sending in this request, even if I made it sad, but it is all good in the end! I promise. (pun intended) (lol im sorry that was lame) I hope you like it!

Leon’s fingers tap to the beat of the music playing from the radio, in a really good mood. You both just came back from a doctor’s appointment, just a regular check up as you are advancing in your pregnancy. With you now in your second trimester, the doctor offered in this appointment that she could finally announce the baby’s gender. You quickly ask if she could share it in an envelope so it can be a surprise to you and your husband. So here you are now, driving back home with Leon holding one of your hands over the console, swiping his thumb over your knuckles, while you stare at the envelope in your other hand.

“I wasn’t able to catch it, but what week are you at right now?” Leon asks as he looks at you, the car slows to a stop at a red light.

“The 20th” you reply, still smiling down at the envelope. While you and Leon weren’t expecting to get pregnant so soon as you both recently got married earlier in the year, you weren’t mad about it. You remember the day you found out as if it were yesterday. You were breaking down on the bathroom floor, wondering what Leon would think as this was not planned out at all. But then he found you with the pregnancy test in hand and took you into his arms, saying it’ll all be okay and that you will get through it together. You’d say you’ve been doing a great job so far. Leon follows your eyes looking at the envelope.

“Do you want to go open the envelope once we get home?” He suggests, but you immediately shake your head.

“No!” You exclaim, finally tearing your eyes away from the envelope to look at Leon, “I want to make this special.”

Leon chuckles at your little outburst. This pregnancy has got you acting in ways he has never experienced before, but he doesn’t mind. “Well, in what way do you want to do it then, baby?”

“I was wondering if we can get a gender reveal cake? I don’t know, I just want it to be an intimate, memorable thing between us.” Leon then raises your hand he was holding and brings it to his lips, pressing a sweet kiss to the back of it.

“Your wish is my command, princess,” he says genuinely. He softly smiles as he looks at you getting all excited in the passenger seat. “Do you want to pass by the bakery right now to get it ordered?” He says, looking at the road. He hears you groan, which causes him to look back to see you sulking into your seat.

“My back hurts too much to move anymore,” you whine out, massaging your lower back as best you can being buckled in your seat. “Can we go home? We can go get the cake tomorrow.”

“Okay hun, we’ll get you home.” Leon says, putting his hand on your thigh now in an attempt to soothe your pain. “I can drop off the envelope at the bakery on my way home from work tomorrow. You don’t even have to lift a finger.”

“Okay. Thank you so much, baby,” you chirp out before going really silent. Leon goes to look at you pouting.

“What’s wrong?” He asks gently.

“I would really like some ice cream with bacon,” you say all sad. Leon laughs under his breath, he swears he can see tears swelling up in your eyes at the thought.

“Don’t worry hun, I’ll make you some the moment we get home.” He reassures, which he grins as soon as he sees you straighten up in your seat in delight.

“Can you make the bacon really crispy?” You request as you look at him with puppy eyes. He kept laughing at your demeanor as he parked the car in front of your home, as if he could ever say no to you.

“Of course.” he says as he unbuckles his seatbelt. Before leaving the car, he turns to look at you and really takes you in. You have changed so much physically throughout your pregnancy. Not just the obvious tummy, but you had a certain glow. You looked so majestic to him all the time. He places a hand on your bump, the light glimmering off his wedding band as the setting sun landed one of its last rays perfectly on your stomach. You can tell he is deep in thought.

“What are you thinking about, handsome?” You ask as you bring your hand to lay on top of his. He takes a moment before he speaks.

“I’m kind of scared, y’know?” He admits, “I never thought I would be a father, especially right now. Despite how nervous I am about this, I’m happy and excited about it at the same time. I get to have this baby with you, the woman I love so much in the entire world. The woman who has been there at my lowest but also at my highest. Who had stayed up nights for me no matter how many times I told her not to. I know everything will be alright because I have you.” He looks up at your face and sees your eyes glazed with tears. You stop him before he panics.

“Oh honey, you’re so sweet,” you start as you hold his face, placing a peck on his lips, “I am so happy I get to do this with you too. I know not much of this was planned so early, but don’t worry. We will get through this together, and everything will be okay. I mean how could they not when you have practically every corner of our house wrapped in either guards or pool noodles?” He goes red at your teasing, but is still smiling hard.

“Hey, you’ll thank me later for that. Now, lets get ins-”

Leon’s phone starts ringing. It only ever rings when it’s you, which it can’t be since you’re sitting right there, or his job. The interior of the car suddenly feels very tense.

Leon grabs his phone and turns it to see who it was, and it was of course the latter option. He answers the call, slowly bringing it up to his ear.

“Hello?”

“Leon, we need you at the office first thing tomorrow morning. It’s urgent.”

───────────────୨ৎ──────────────

“I’m so sorry, baby. But I have to go by tonight.”

It has been a day since Leon received the news that he was getting dispatched to Spain, quite literally across the globe, away from you. He told you he had to fight to be able to come back home really quick to tell you good-bye.

“I wish I had a choice not to go, but they specifically requested me for this one,” he explains as he stands in front of you. He is completely dressed in his gear. “They finally know the whereabouts of the president’s daughter, it’s a major deal.”

Leon’s heart breaks at the sight of you trying so hard not to cry. You had conversations of him having to go on missions regularly, but with the ever changing hormones, it is just hitting you harder this time.

“But, you will come back home. Right?” You whisper out.

Leon looks down at the floor in desperation from his position kneeled on the floor in front of you. He rubs your arms as you are seated on the couch, your bowl of soggy cereal without milk completely abandoned on the side.

“You know I will do everything in my power to get back home to you, baby. You know that.” His stomach twists as he sees you have caught on to him not giving you a straight answer. He sighs and tries to lighten the mood, one of his hands leaving your arm. “Besides, I have something that will help me remember to power through.”

You tilt your head in curiosity as his hand goes to one of the pouches attached to his belt. He unzips it and pulls out a folded envelope, the one that contains your baby’s gender.

“I promise you I will be back with a pink cake,” he says, softly smirking to cheer you up. He fully smiles as he hears you giggle.

“You really think it’s going to be a girl, huh?” You say through tears. Leon leans up to kiss one away.

“You bet. We will do that reveal you always wanted, baby. You have my word.” You nod your head in understanding.

Before Leon gets up to leave, he leans down to leave a kiss on your bump.

───────────────୨ৎ──────────────

Sacrificial lamb. You will receive our most sacred body.

It begins now.

Leon jerks awake, his mind still plagued from what felt like it happened a couple of seconds ago. He sure doesn’t feel too hot right now. He looks up to see his hands bound together by chains. God, does he feel nauseous.

“Oh, what the fuck?” He says what is supposedly to himself as he brings his chained up hands down, until a voice rings out.

“Hey, stop it!” The voice is heavy with an accent. Leon turns to see who he is dealing with as a prisoner. “Oye, Yanqui, got a name?”

“Leon.” He says as he looks around the room, not wanting to make conversation and just wanting to get the hell out of here.

“Quiet type, eh? I’m Luis Serra. And guess–you, me–picked the wrong spot to vacation, eh?” Leon pulls on the chain as he moves father away from his new acquaintance. “Hey, stop it! You move, I move… and I’m beat up enough as it is!”

Leon goes to try on the chain again and sees it is hung up on a wheel on the ceiling. He notices it is slightly loose. Great, this should be easy to break down if he just gives it a couple more hard tugs. He pulls down again, which causes Luis to look up.

“I can see your thinking. Bet you’ve been in spots like this before, hm?” He teases. Leon grunts as he turns to put his whole body weight on the chain. “My guess… you’re here looking for someone?” Leon gives another hard tug, avoiding Luis.

“One more guess… Maybe… some missing señorita?” That caught Leon’s attention.

“A young girl?” Leon asks, finally turning to look at Luis. Finally, some business. He pulls the chain to have Luis be face level. “Talk. Now.”

“All right. See, heard chatter about moving a señorita.”

“Moving her. Where?” Leon interrogates as he loosens his grip on Luis.

“Who knows? But later, saw some men dragging someone… to the old church.” Luis says cunningly before dropping to the ground once Leon breaks the wheel off the ceiling, releasing the chain. “Mierda… Hanging with you? Not healthy–” Leon notices another one of those brainwashed villages about to strike Luis from behind, so he cuts him off by pulling on the chain.

The villager is wielding an axe, so before he chops up somebody, Leon deals a blow to his face using the chain to his advantage. With the villager distracted from the pain, Leon brings the chain around its neck, effectively strangling him, but the thing is still thrashing around. Leon then brings his knee up and puts down his whole body on the chain, snapping its neck for good. Fuck, that hurt… Luis also falls from the chain dragging him, but grabs the key the villager dropped to set himself free from the chains. He makes a big show of it, drops the chain and goes to run out.

“Hey, we’re not done here!” Leon tries to go after him, but gets stuck by the chain still being snugly around the dead villager’s neck.

“Later, amigo!” Luis departs, throwing the key far from Leon. Leon stands there in disbelief. How mature. And he knows this is most likely not the last of him either. This will be a very long mission… Leon goes to grab the key, finally freeing himself and calls for Hunnigan for updates and to find some information on Luis as he heads out the room, that sick feeling in his body still being very present.

───────────────୨ৎ──────────────

Everyone takes a moment catching their breaths after the chase from the Ganados, which Leon ended by shooting a gear, leading to a door slamming on one of their heads, cutting their path. Luis and Ashley lean on the nearby wooden walls for support as Leon looks around to see where they should go next. He has finally found the president’s daughter, but of course the mission is nowhere near over. He then snaps his head as he hears Ashley cough violently to see her spitting out blood.

“Ashley?” Leon asks concerned as he goes to check on her. She is shaking as she looks at the crimson covering her palm.

“Wh-What’s happening to me?” She asks, her body still wracking with coughs.

“Ashley,” Luis carefully approaches, “Is this the first time you’ve coughed up blood like this?” Ashely nods her head.

“You wanna start explaining?” Leon asks, trying to mask the panic as he was also coughing up blood the same way not too long ago on the speedboat.

“The cough, the blood–it’s caused by something called a… ‘plaga’” Leon and Ashley turn to look at each other. He can see the fear in her eyes.

“OK. You saw those ‘people,’ right?” Luis begins explaining. The further he talks, the more Leon’s stomach sinks at the fact he is infected with currently no cure in sight. “Well, you have the same thing inside you. The same thing that made them like that. This, what you’re experiencing, these symptoms… They’re only the beginning.”

“I don’t want to become like them.” Ashley nervously murmurs out. Leon is still in thought, trying to figure out what to do.

“You are, well, lucky,” Luis points out, “You see, at this early stage, the parasite–the plaga. It is possible to remove it… with a surgical procedure. And all you need is some know-how. And, oh yeah– the right equipment.” Luis turns to show a scar running across his chest.

“Wait. You, too?” Leon bursts out. He seriously can’t believe this ex-Umbrella member is the only one that can save his and Ashley’s life right now.

“No worries. See, I have a plan. But you’re going to have to trust me.”

If it’s going to get this parasite out of him and be able to finish this mission and go back home in one piece, it seems like he doesn’t have any other option.

───────────────୨ৎ────────────── 

Leon and Ashley head over to the castle’s courtyard after Luis told them they should meet up there as he got his hands on some suppressants for las Plagas. After dealing with a couple ambushes on the way, they finally make it when Ashley starts groaning out in pain.

“You OK?” Leon asks.

“I think so. Uh–” Ashley then seems to lose consciousness as she falls forward. Leon catches her. What is going on? Is this like how he passed out in the boat?

“Instead of worrying about her…” It sounds like Ashley, but with something eerie mixed in with her voice, “worry about your own skin!”

Leon feels Ashley pull his knife from his holster, and goes to swing it at him.

“Foolish little lamb”

Leon grabs a hold on the blade before it makes contact with him, but it cuts him as Ashley slides it out of his hand. Leon stares at her in disbelief as she then brings the knife close to her neck, seeing the crazed look in her eyes.

“Temperance, child!”

“Ashley!” Leon slowly approaches as she takes a couple of steps back, far enough to the point a gate falls, separating them in the courtyard. Leon sees Ashley snap out of whatever was possessing her, the familiar look of fear back on her face now. She drops the knife, looking at her hands not believing what she just did and runs away.

“Wait!” Leon shouts out, but she is now long gone. He brings his head to lean on the metal bars of the gate. So the search is back on.

But all other thoughts are clouding Leon’s mind. If he doesn’t get to Luis’ cure soon, what is happening to Ashley will soon be him too. And who knows if it’ll be reversible? He has to bring everything back to order if he wants to get back home, and he has to do that stat.

His hand instinctively goes to the pouch containing the envelope as he thinks back to you. He needs to get back home, to you and your child. His breath evens out at the thought and he leans away from the bar. With newfound hope, he goes on to find Ashley.

───────────────୨ৎ──────────────

Leon is already agitated as he walks into the room at the end of a corridor within the castle. He lost his connection to Hunnigan after facing some Ganados, so he is really not in the mood. He goes further into the room, gun ready as he sees a window mysteriously open. Before he could get any closer to it to inspect-

“You can stop right there, Leon.” He has not forgotten that voice. And the fact he is hearing it right now, doesn’t surprise him. “Wouldn;t make me use this, would you?”

Getting the hint, he tosses his gun to the side, keeping his hands up to show he is all clear.

“Well after six years, that is one hell of a greeting…” Leon says, no amusement in his tone, “Ada.” She tilts her head in observation.

“You don’t seem surprised. Interesting…” She slowly muses until Leon swiftly turns and slams her hand aiming the gun at him away. They soon get into a heated altercation, with Leon ending it by holding his knife to her neck.

“Try using knives next time,” Leon says flatly, “Better for close encounters.”

“Not a bad move. Very smooth.” She mocks. Leon lets go of his grip on her as he turns away, not wanting to give her any more attention than what he has already given her.

“So who are you working for this time?” He asks, not expecting an answer.

“Oh, Leon. You know I don’t work and tell.” She jokes back. She can see Leon getting irritated, which was not a reaction she was expecting from the lovesick young rookie she met a couple years ago. “Leave the girl. She’s lost no matter what.” She squints her eyes as she hears Leon scoff.

“You walk away now… and who knows? Maybe you’ll live to meet me again. And then I might get you that ‘greeting’ you’re looking for.” She says, strutting her way to the window.

“Oh trust me, I am for sure not looking for one,” Leon replies harshly, “Besides, you think I’m gonna give up that easy?” Ada looks back to Leon in confusion for not falling so easily to her mannerisms. Why does she feel so bummed out right now? She huffs out a breath.

“Right.” She says quietly before disappearing into the night.

───────────────୨ৎ────────────── 

Leon carefully shuts the door behind him as he finally has found Ashley again. He slowly approaches her, who is crying on a couch. It kind of reminded him of the times you would have your crying episodes from the mood swings you faced. He thinks back to that one time you were crying over a milk ad. As he walks up to Ashley, she shuffles away from him.

“Stay back! I might hurt you again,” she cries out, looking at her hand as if it is drowned in blood. “I’m so scared. When that happened… I wasn’t myself anymore. I was something else.”

“Ashley, that must have been terrifying. I-I know,” Leon mutters out, caught off guard over him being so soft on the job. Maybe it’s from all the newfound patience he has learned with you. He then shows her his arm, the black veins caused by the parasite taking over it.

“You too?” She gasps out. Leon barely nods.

“It’s OK to be afraid, you know,” he continues as he sits next to her. God, does he already feel like a dad right now. “But you can’t run. You got to keep moving forward. We will beat this.” Ashley breaks eye contact with him as she doesn’t take in his words. He thinks back to the promise he made with you in the car two days before.

“Together.” He adds. Ashley sits back in defeat.

“I don’t know if I can,” she sighs, but Leon quickly puts an end to her doubts.

“You can.” He firmly says, before going lighter in his tone to boost her mood, “And give me a heads-up before you stab me next time, OK?” She huffs out a laugh.

“Leon… Thanks.”

───────────────୨ৎ────────────── 

The walls of the cave are all a blur as Leon steps on the gas of the water scoot he is on with Ashley. As he dodges all the falling debris, his head is heavy with all kinds of thoughts.

That ridiculous cart ride with Luis, and how he was stabbed in front of his eyes just a few moments later, by his own mentor back when he was forced to work for the government. Having to fight with him.

“We are just getting started, rookie.”

“You’re still a kid holding on to fantasies of what’s right and wrong.”

“Enough play, rookie. You haven’t changed a damn bit.”

How he went back to Luis. Gave him his last smoke. Watched him take his final breath.

“...What do you think, Leon…? People can change, right?”

Finally settling things with Ada on that boat.

“You look like you got something to say.”

“I’m not playing this game of cat and mouse with you anymore. I’ve changed since Raccoon City, have you?”

“Pfft– You? Leon S. Kennedy? You haven’t changed. You just think you have.”

Finding the amber. How it contains Las Plagas. Ashley getting possessed. How he was shy of getting shot dead.

“Welcome, my children.”

“Stop! No!”

“Sweet child, do not resist!”

He loses Ashley again. Just to go fight with Krauser again. Seeing people use these diseases thinking it gives them power again.

“You’ve done well to make it this far, rookie.”

“You can’t save her. You can’t save anyone!”

“You’re too soft to do what’s necessary.”

“That’s the difference between you and me, rookie.”

“I trained you well… Leon.”

He takes Ashley to Luis’ lab. Heals her, but doesn’t last long enough to stay awake to see it as the exhaustion and the parasite take over, leaving him thinking he is dead. But wakes up thanks to Ashley curing him as well, both finally getting the hell out of here. Fighting more creatures, some alongside Ada until it’s all finally over. 

“I think we both know this is where we go our separate ways. For good.”

“I see.”

Now they are on this scooter, rushing out as the island falls into ruin. All these experiences weigh heavy on his mind until he finally reaches the end of the cave, into the light. Leon and Ashley look back at what's left of the island.

“You all right?” Leon asks after it gets quiet.

“I’m not sure! That was insane!” Ashley says as the island sets off its final explosions. It causes sparks and water to fall on them, finally the sign saying this is all over as they both look to the sun rising ahead. Even with all the bad, the mission is finally over. Leon defied the odds. Despite what they all said, Leon did save Ashley. They didn’t leave Luis’ heroic act in vain as they are living proof of it. He has changed. He has grown. But there are still a lot of things to learn, and he can’t wait to go home to you to do so.

“Mission accomplished, right?” Ashley asks, cutting Leon out of his thinking.

“Mission accomplished… when you’re home safe.” Leon says, smiling a rare smile over his shoulder at Ashley.

“Thank you for saving me.” Ashley expresses. Leon nods his head and looks ahead. “You know, I could put in a word with my dad. Have you assigned to my detail, if you’re interested?” She adds, smirking.

“Nah, got a missus waiting for me back home,” Leon says, smiling back at her. He tries to hold back laughter as Ashley’s face drops.

“Oh! I apologize, I didn’t know you were-”

“Married? Yeah, you’re one of the few I’m letting on this little secret, so you better keep it. But also, you don’t need me. You proved you can handle yourself. Even if you could use a lesson in knife safety.” Ashley laughs.

“Come on now, let’s go home.” Leon revs up the scooter and they both ride into the distance.

───────────────୨ৎ──────────────

Your knee nervously bounces as you watch TV, trying to distract yourself. You know stressing out was not good for the baby, but you can’t stop yourself from thinking of all the things that could be happening to Leon over the 24 hours he was gone. You keep telling yourself to stop overthinking, but your mind still keeps racing. You stand after a minute, thinking getting some food will get your mind off it all.

You slowly waddle to the kitchen, groaning as you reach behind your back. This baby is growing heavy really fast. As you reach the doorway to the kitchen, you hear the door unlock. You immediately turn back and shuffle back to the living room to see Leon quietly take his boots off. He then notices you standing there, bewildered. He gives you a tired smile.

“Hey honey. I got the cake.” Leons says as he raises the box in his hands proudly. He hears you release a wail as you rush into him. He chuckles as he holds the box in one hand and brings his other arm to wrap around you. “Woah! Careful, beautiful. You’re about to make me drop this cake.”

You move your head from his chest to look at his face. Your husband is alive and back home safe. You’re feeling all these emotions of happiness, sadness, and fear combine, causing you to mumble out words Leon couldn’t piece together. Leon moves his arm to caress the side of your face.

“Oh baby… Shhh… Breathe with me now,” he coos, and you follow his instruction by copying him leading you with deep breaths. “That’s it. Feel all better now? You let it all out?” You simply nod your head.

“That’s my girl,” he praises. “Now, how about we reveal the gender of this baby, hm?”

You both are now situated on the living room floor. The cake is out and Leon brought a knife with a plate. You are sitting against his chest, staying close to him as much as possible now that he is home.

“Okay, are you ready?” Leon asks as he brings the knife closer to the cake.

“Wait, let me do it,” you order. Leon laughs softly as he hands you the knife. You start slicing the cake and after raising the knife away from the cake to cut the other side to cut a good slice, the crumbs sticking to it already reveal your answer. Leon inhales a breath and holds it as you finally cut the cake and put it on the plate. You smile, already getting all emotional as you bring the plate up towards Leon.

“You’re right. It’s a girl.”

END NOTES: Man, I didn't mean to make this so long, but I just had so many ideas for this one. I sincerely apologize again for uploading this late, I thought school was getting lighter but it didn't.💔 Might post something extra on Saturday to make it up to y'all. Thank you so much for reading and have a great rest of your day darlings<33

LEON S. KENNEDY MASTERLIST

REQUESTS

[mysweetstrawbby]

╰─ ♡ re9!leon x reader

˚₊ · »-♡→ ; just a lil smau i whipped up for fun 𐔌՞꜆.  ̫.꜀՞𐦯 ྀིྀ

˚₊ · »-♡→ ; age gap (reader is in college)

˚₊ · »-♡→ ; my v first interpretation of leon!! do we think he’s ooc? this is kinda how i picture him texting 𐔌՞ ❛ ֊ ❛՞𐦯

[melodiesz]

Fashion Choices

⊹ ࣪ ˖ In which you wear a really fuckass outfit but they don’t know how to tell you. (blue texts are all luci except for the last one, that’s m/c in a different gc!)

a/n: so they did not in fact tell m/c….and as if any of them can be talking after those ido outfits 😬

[obm-re]

Words (Brothers)

"I'm gonna kill myself," you muttered.

The reaction was instantaneous. Every head in the room immediately turned in your direction. Someone dropped something. Levi was the only one who didn't seem horrified, but even he looked a little concerned.

You looked back cluelessly. "What?"

"You're what?" asked Lucifer. His face was stern, but he was holding himself in trepidation.

It took you a moment to realise what had even come out of your mouth. You'd made a mess of your Spells homework and muttered it on reflex. "Oh. Uh, it's just a joke."

"It's not very funny," replied Satan.

"Sorry," You said a little awkwardly, then cleared your throat and tried to go back to working. "Won't happen again."

It didn't work. You could still feel all seven of them staring at you - simultaneously, looking at each other and mutually wondering what to say next. Eventually, you excused yourself and retreated to your room to keep working.

Belphie came knocking at your door that same evening, claiming that he couldn't sleep, and insisted that you come to bed early even though you still had things to work on. He wasn't a very good actor; even once you gave up and joined him, he kept looking up at your face from where he was nestled against your chest. When you finally looked back, raising your eyebrows, he muttered something about making sure you were still there, and pouted until you gave him a kiss.

The next morning, Lucifer made sure you ate, checked and double-checked that you had everything you needed for the day, and then kept you back for almost ten minutes under the pretense of making sure your uniform was 'presentable'. He set his hands on your shoulders and looked as if he might say something, but in the end he only trailed his hands down to your forearms and gave them a gentle squeeze. You didn't see him for the rest of the school day, but you felt as if he were watching you the whole way through.

Mammon glued himself to your side as soon as you got to class. He made his usual jokes and continued to glare at any lesser demon that got too close, but he was oddly attentive; when your pencil rolled off the desk, he caught it so quickly that he smacked against the table in the process. He seemed pleased when you pretended to fuss over his poor bruised hand, at least. He wasn't even as shy about demanding you kiss it better than usual.

At lunch, Beel stayed quiet as you chatted with Simeon and Raphael. Every now and then, he'd gently poke your arm. When you turned to him, he'd hold out a bit of his lunch - a piece of his sandwich, a cracker, a slice of fruit - and stared beseechingly until you ate it. Each time, he'd smile sweetly and pat you on the head. The angels stopped giving him odd looks after the fourth cracker.

You joined Levi to play some games after school. He didn't seem much different than usual at first, but in the loading screen between levels, he suddenly turned to you.

"Hey," He said, voice a little pitched with anxiety. "Please don't kill yourself."

You blinked, and then laughed. "I'm not going to. It's just a joke, like I said."

"I know that, but..." He averted his eyes. "...I dunno. Can you really say something like that without... meaning it just a little bit?"

You stared back at him for a moment. Then, suddenly discomfited, you turned back to the screen. "...I don't know. I don't think so."

"Can you promise?" He asked, barely audible. "Please?"

You reached across the bathtub and took his hand. It was a little clammy, but it didn't tremble nervously like it often did. It just closed tighter around yours. "...promise."

Later, you went to the library to try to finish your assignment again. Satan joined you so quickly that it felt as if he could have only been waiting. He sat across from you, ostensibly absorbed in his book, but looked up whenever he heard your pen stop scribbling. Eventually he stood up, rounded the table and joined you, explaining each part you didn't understand in a low, soothing voice. You managed to finish your work that same evening, his body pressing warmly against your side, like a particularly large cat.

And, of course, Asmo brought out the big guns. Before Belphie could take up his vigil in your bed, he barged into your room with a scroll of paper so long that it dragged onto the ground as he walked. He'd managed to compile it from his brothers and the rest of your friends in the last twenty-four hours and as a result much of its contents was nonsensical, but nonetheless he sat you down on the bed and read out each and every compliment, adding in dozens of his own, and peppering you with kisses in between until you were practically steaming with embarrassment and begging him to stop.

Some weeks later, you dropped a slice of cheesecake as you entered the common room and watched it smash into the carpet. You sighed. "I'm gonna—"

Seven heads turned in your direction.

"—blow this whole house up."

The brothers glanced at each other. There was a mutual shrug, an exasperated head-shake, several fond laughs. Progress was progress.

[freshpizzanightmare]

RE9 Leon's Partner Imagines

➣You guys have probably know each other since your 30s or longer

➣He has so many puns/one-liners but just as many sweet things to say

➣Epitome of a gentleman. If he's around then you never touch a steering wheel, open your own car door, or carry heavy groceries.

➣Totally refills your water bottle and screws the lid on too tightly

➣Body worship. So much body worship

➣Stretch marks? Your body simply couldn't contain your beauty and had to stretch a little. Insecure about acne scars? He'll show you his.

➣Compliments your eyes ALL the time

➣His personal phone is filled with really bad pics of you

➣I feel like he'd spend an obscene amount of money on a really comfy couch for you two to watch movies together

➣He never leaves without saying goodbye dramatically, even if it's to the grocery store

➣Speaking of shopping: Will follow you around the stores for HOURSSS

➣He'd let you hit the Target/TJMaxx/Ulta/etc. combo every weekend if you wanted to

➣Doesn't order black coffee anymore because he takes whatever flavor you wanna try (He drinks the one you like less)

➣He gives a fake name to the barista bc it makes you giggle

➣Here's a list of examples: Ken, Scotty, Jacob, Peter

➣You schedule your dentist appointments at the same time because he won't go otherwise

➣He would pick up really random hobbies when the field work slows down

➣He wakes you up at 2am because he just finished slow roasting some meat in the oven

➣Like he makes you a small plate and serves it to you like breakfast in bed (It's really good but he's not allowed to do this on nights you have work anymore)

➣Sleeping next to him is like having a heater

➣He would get you a trained protection dog even if you're a trained agent

➣He thinks you're out of his league

➣He is a provider, a protector, and a lover.

[alloftheimagines]

leon s. kennedy | radio silence

MASTERLIST

warnings: 18+. leon dies, sorry! emotional torture! blood, zombies, the usual horrors synopsis: leon needs to hear your voice one last time. credit to @scarletwitchivy for the idea!

He’s tested his fate one too many times, and only when he’s choking on his own blood does he realise it. Staggering down the corridor, away from the blazing fire behind, is the most difficult journey Leon Kennedy has ever made. It shouldn’t be. It should be the easiest. The crimson-spattered linoleum under his feet paves a smooth exit to the staircase, emergency lights flashing in the darkness like a beacon. 

He’ll never make it. Every step leaches something vital from him: a breath he couldn’t afford to lose, a heartbeat he needed to save for later. He topples into the cold railings at his side, Sherry’s voice a shrill siren in his ears. “Leon, talk to me. What’s going on?” 

He can't. If he talks to her, he won’t make it to the staircase, and it’s all he can focus on. That, and your face. How it would crumple and fracture if you knew how close he was to giving up. 

He clutches the wound at this side, blood gushing through the leather of his gloves. He tastes it, sees it, smells it, coppery and rotten, because the T-virus is still ravaging his veins. 

With a grunt, he makes the last five steps to the stairwell. Grabs the bannister with his free hand, though he isn’t strong enough to really grip. His silvery eyes are hidden by hooded lids, chin coated in liquid he is certain should still be in his body. 

He isn’t going to make it. 

He knows it when a zombie pummels into him from the level above, gnashing teeth desperate for a taste of him.

“Fuck,” he rasps out, “you.” He takes out his gun, points it into the zombie’s stomach and shoots, but not before decaying teeth plunge into his shoulder, right where the virus’s black spider webs gather. His vision turns white with the agony of it, a million searing sparks exploding under his skin like the shrapnel of a grenade. The zombie falls, blocks his way over the next step. His breath is shallow and jagged as he kicks it aside, drags himself up another step, another. 

His knees buckle all at once. His body has stopped obeying his commands, and he’s angry, he’s devastated, he doesn’t want to die. He wants to come home to you. He crawls, but he’s losing too much blood and he’s choking on it again and the flashing lights above are disorienting him until he can’t remember whether he was supposed to be going downstairs or up. 

“Sherry,” he rasps.

Her voice is panicked as she says, “How bad is it? What can I do?”

“Need you to get her.” He doesn’t need to specify who he means. “Need to hear her voice.”

“Leon—“

“Get her,” he begs. He’s still alive enough that it sounds like an order. 

He’s hears a muffled sob from Sherry, but he can’t focus on it as he slumps against the nearest wall. Trying to catch his breath, rest his eyes for a sec, he convinces himself, but he knows it’s a lie. He won’t move from this spot now and can no longer think of a reason why he should try. 

Until he hears you whisper his name. “Leon?”

“Hey, you.” Somehow, his facial muscles still remember how to smile. A moment of clarity comes back to him.  He can’t die here. He needs to come home to you. He tries to stand up but finds his legs rooted to the floor. He can’t fucking move, and he’s never been so angry, so helpless. 

“Where are you? What’s happening?”

“Oh, you know. The usual.” It shouldn’t hurt this much, he thinks as a jolt of pain tears through him. It comes out in another mangled grunt. “Listen, think I’m gonna be home late. Don’t… Don’t wait up, yeah?”

“Leon…” He imagines you hovering over the radio, lip trembling, no tears because you’re stronger than he is, braver. It’s what gives him the comfort to finally give in. To let his body turn boneless.

“Don’t do this,” you beg. It kills him, but it isn’t enough to bring him back to life now. “Tell me where you are. We can get to you—“

“No. You don’t come here. Not ever again.” Raccoon City, he’s found, still has its jaws wide open, and he was the idiot who fell right into them. He doesn’t want to think of you here, in this maw of death and sickness and evil. 

It’s time to give up on the hopes of saving it. 

“You’re not doing this. You’re not allowed to fucking die like this.” Anger colours your voice. He feels it like another wound opening up in him. He’s let you down, and he hates himself for it. “You told me you’d come home!” You’re screaming now.

He winces. Tries to stand, for you. Manages to shuffle on his knees to the next step before his vision wavers again. 

“I’m so sorry,” he murmurs. He sits back, tugs off his glove. Grabs his wedding ring from his pocket with clumsy fingers. He doesn’t have the energy to slip it on, so he lets the metal soothe his burning palm instead. Imagines it’s your hand, even though it’s too cold and small and determined to slip out of his hands. “I swear to god, I tried.”

Your breaths are like static in his ear. He tries to imagine he’s lying beside you instead of villages, towns, cities away. 

And maybe he’s wrong, maybe you are crying this time, because you let out a sob that shatters him into pieces. “Please,” you whisper.

“I love you.” It’s his last chance to say it, so he repeats it. “I love you. Sell the house and the car. Get yourself…” A groan as fire rushes through him. “Get yourself that lake house you always wanted—"

“No—"

“With the garden. And the dogs. Get more of ‘em. Hell, get yourself a whole house of ‘em—“

“No!” you’re shouting. “Stop it!”

“Sweetheart,” he pleads. “Need you to say you will. Need to know you’ll be okay.”

“I won’t. I won’t be okay, Leon. I need you!”

“No. No you don’t.” His brows pinch. His eyes are closed, though he can’t remember how or when it happened. “You’re strong. You’re my strong girl. I won’t ask you to stop fighting this shit, because I know you never will.”

All he can hear is your cries. He wonders if he should have died alone, without you. This isn’t what he wants to hear in his last moments. He wants your forgiveness, wants you to say you love him, wants you to promise you’ll live a better life than the one this fucked up world gave you both.

His coughs are wet, body suddenly weightless. His time is up. 

You must sense it, the way you always do, because finally, you say, “I love you so much. I’m right here, okay?”

He mouths an, “Okay,” he isn’t sure you’ll hear. Finds, by some miracle, a stillness inside of him that makes him think maybe there’s something waiting for him on the other side. 

“Keep talking to me, baby,” you beg. “Tell me you’re still here.”

He tries, a series of guttural sounds falling from his throat. Another peal of coughs rattle through him. He can’t control them this time, nor the blood spewing from his mouth, dripping down his shirt. You’re saying his name. It means nothing to him anymore, but he holds onto it as best he can as cold seeps through his limbs. 

The coughs ebb all at once. And then, a silence that you can’t fill, broken only by the clatter of the wedding ring as it falls from his grip. 

“Leon,” you beg. 

There is no reply. 

divider credit: @somebitchprobably-graphicdump

[whats-her-quirk]

no sleep tonight, or how you play with leon’s hair over the years

18+

~800 words

warnings: different eras of leon, hair pulling, dry humping, premature ejaculation, hurt/comfort maybe?, slight pain play, explicit sexual content

21 –

It’s not hard to get him worked up. Actually, it’s almost too easy. Everything you do surprises Leon, even when you’re not trying. 

The movie playing on the TV forgotten, you drag Leon down on the couch, needing more friction. Your steamy makeout session already has him panting and desperate (and hard in his sweats), but you want to go further. He doesn’t hesitate, his hot breath fanning against your ear as his weight settles on top of you. His hips rut against you like he can’t help it, his eyes hazy and unfocused.

Pinning him down with one leg around his waist, you pull him into another bruising kiss as your hands start to wander. Fingertips trace down his soft cheek to his smooth, cleanly shaved jaw, then wrap around to tug at his ear. Leon sighs as you press into the pressure point just behind the lobe.

You let your nails come through his hair, just long enough in the back to hold onto, then tighten your grip and pull.

“Fuck!” His hips stutter, his whole body going stiff as a board. A high, strangled moan is lodged in his throat, his cock jumps against your thigh, and his eyes roll back—all dead giveaways that he finished much quicker than he expected to.

He swears again before collapsing into you, burying his burning red face in the crook of your neck. He’s mortified; you’re euphoric.

“Next time,” he mumbles, “can you warn a guy?”

“So you wanna keep going?”

“As long as you’ll let me.”

27 –

The lights are off in the hotel room, the blackout curtains drawn to the city lights outside. It’s late, and you should probably try to close your eyes and get some sleep. You have a helicopter to catch in the morning to a grueling debrief that could take hours after all you’ve been through the past few days.

But you survived, and Leon can’t wait.

You can’t see anything except the faint, greenish glow of the alarm clock on the night stand, but you feel Leon, all of him, all over you, inside you, stealing the air from your lunch, fucking you like he thought he might never get to again.

He needs this, needs you.

“Harder,” you beg, and he obliges. Every thrust, every smack of skin against skin, is proof that you’re still alive.

Your head starts to slip between the pillows; Leon throws them across the room. His desperate, heavy groans against your throat make you clench down hard as his hips pound yours.

Leon grabs your hand off his shoulder, guiding it to the base of his neck. His hair is getting longer, you think. He could use a trim.

“Pull,” he asks sternly. “Make it hurt.”

You know he’s distracting himself, delaying the inevitable spiral that comes after jobs like this. He grounds himself in his body for as long as he can, until he gets the chance to process every close call, every dangerous obstacle that almost ended your life and his. 

But in a few hours, you will see the light of another day, so you thread your fingers through the strands at the base of his skull and pull, holding tight as you ride with him to his high.

51 –

Leon still turns you on effortlessly. Even as he laid in bed, shirtless, hair tousled, reading glasses low on his nose, you can’t help but admire how beautiful he is.

He practically purrs as you crawl into his lap and push his book aside. Leon sets it on the night stand and stacks his glasses on top. His palms press into your lower back. “Can I help you?” His voice is low, husky—he’s getting sleepy.

You brush his bangs away from his eyes, the lamplight glinting on the strands of gray peppered throughout. “Mmhmm,” you hum, tucking a lock behind his ear.

You nuzzle into his chest, slotting yourself against his side. You feel his breathing, hear his heartbeat, and count yourself supremely lucky. As you set a rhythm stroking the hair back from his temple, Leon tangles his legs with yours. Nights like these are much more common now, and you’d earned them.

“Aw, hell,” he says, bracing you before flipping you over and rolling on top. His lips press hungrily to yours. “Guess I’ll see what I can do.”

divider by @cafekitsune

[dollyzdaydreamz]

re2 + re4 leon kennedey x reader headcannon

so, I saw a bird today

description: you test how leon would react if you randomly tell him you saw a bird today. re2 leon finds out you saw a bird while you two are on a nice evening walk. re4 finds out you a saw a bird while you guys are sparring.

fluff! 1.5k words total…(inspired by a little tik tok trend lol)

RE2

You guys were on a peaceful little neighborhood walk after dinner, taking advantage of the Saturday Leon had off from the RPD.

He had just finished politely ranting about some lunatic, or ‘repeat offender’ as Leon so boringly liked to call him. Well anyway, him and Marvin had to deal with this guy every few months, but he kept getting bailed out by his lousy friends.

Leon rolled his eyes at the way you teased him about how diplomatic he was, especially when someone clearly deserved to be called a maniac…even that eye roll could’ve held a little more sass!

You could see the tips of his ears burning pink at the realization he might’ve actually been too nice, before he nudged your shoulder gently, muttering at you to knock it off.

There was a comfortable silence as the swish of a few stray cars on the road beside Leon filled your ears.

You brought your stiff hands up to your mouth to blow your warm breath on them. It rarely snowed in Raccoon city, but that didn’t mean the dry winter air didn’t nearly freeze your extremities off.

Leon’s blue eyes landed on your figure, taking one of your hands before encompassing it in his and stuffing it into his warm pocket, “I told you to wear a warmer jacket,” he muttered, squishing your hand playfully.

You sighed in relief, his skin was so warm and smooth.

You always teased him for having ‘lady hands.’ With him being a cop and all, you figured they’d callous up at some point, but they stayed as soft as his heart always had.

You grinned like an idiot at the thought, before bringing your head to rest on his arm as the two of you walked.

Leon was simply the best partner one could ask for. He was kind, strong, smart, and handsome.

He always said he was lucky to have you, and you couldn’t help but feel the same.

He’s so oblivious when women try to flirt with him, you wondered if he knew just how handsome he really was.

Even now, his dark hair held such a strong contrast to his crystal blue eyes.

He mentioned dying it blonde once, and you agreed to help him out with it sometime.

Hopefully, it doesn’t come out looking like ramen noodle strands, but that was a worry for some other time…

In the silence, your thoughts drifted back to a video you saw online, a couple of women took it upon themselves to tell their partners that they ‘saw a bird today’ to gauge their partners reaction.

You weren’t surprised when they were met with a few confused stares or belittling comments about how random that conversation starter was.

You wondered how Leon would react…He was extremely attentive after all, he entertained you rambling about your hobby’s and hyper fixations.

Ah what the heck.

“Oh! I forgot to tell you,” You started.

“What is it?” He asked, pressing the button on the cross walk.

“…You know we can just go, right?” You said, looking around the road to see it was completely empty.

“Babe,” he huffed, scandalized, “that’s jaywalking.”

You rolled your eyes, here we go again…

“It’s illegal…Do you usually do that? Cause it’s really dangerous, you know—“

“I know, I know—don’t have to go on a tangent,” you grumbled.

You were freezing and this particular cross walk was famous for taking forever, “…Always have to be such a goodie two shoes…”

Leon chuckled, opting to keep your mind busy while you guys waited, “So what was it you wanted to tell me?”

“Oh yeah, I saw a bird today…”

“Oh…” He shifted in anticipation, brows knitted together, “What kind of bird was it?”

“Uh—“ you were caught off guard at how engaged he was. You supposed it was the cop in him, always a stickler for details and observation.

“It looked like a red cardinal…but blue.”

“Hm,” he straightened, “Must’ve been a blue jay…” he muttered to himself, breaking out of his thoughts when the cross walk finally began beeping and signaled that it was clear to cross.

He took your hand in his again, not forgetting to use the other to wave politely at the stagnant drivers.

You thought the conversation would end there, but once the two of you got to the other side he spoke up again,

“I used to always think those red cardinals were boys and the blue jays were girls.”

You chuckled, “Really?”

Leon shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck.

“There were these two that’d hang out near these trees on the playground when I was a kid…and I always imagined they were married,” He admitted with a shy little grin.

You melted right then and there. You had gotten him to ramble about married birds.

“That’s so cute,” you cooed, giving his ice cold face a little peck.

“Wonder where those birds are now…” you sighed, looking up at the dimming city skyline.

“They might still be together.” He smiled, squeezing your hand.

You asked if he’s seen any other married couples in a tree lately.

You were met with a frown and a threat to let go of your hand and let it freeze.

——————————————————————

RE4

Leon had always told you that you needed to work on your knife skills, so the two of you were in the midst of a routine sparring match, knives clashing sharply in a stale mate so many times, it got boring.

You knew him so well you could predict his footing and deflect his blows. He knew you so well he could sense the direction of your next slash and remain unscathed.

So, sparring became less of a skill building exercise and more of a dance routine.

As he dodges and nearly melees you for the millionth time, your thoughts drift to a little trend you saw online. People were telling their partners random things like ‘they saw a bird today’ to see how they would react.

“Hey…gotta tell you something,” you gasp, escaping the blade clutched in his right hand by just a hair.

Leon was so locked in he barely registered your words, his brown bone was low, jaw screwed tight, eyes watching your every move intently.

You decide to dive for his shoulders, prop yourself up on them, and use your weight to bring him down to the mat.

He stumbled, losing his balance and landed on the floor beneath you.

You grinned, he may have been Krausers knife throwing prodigy, but he wasn’t as agile as you were.

You tasted victory for a good two seconds, “Anyway, I said I wanted to say some—agh shit!”

It seemed he had regained his footing.

Your breath was stolen when your back met the mat, albeit gently, for someone who’d been rag dolled.

You blink and there he is, cold blade resting against your neck of course.

You should’ve known he gets off on winning.

His eyes swim with pride…and maybe even a tinge of something else as he suppressed a grin from above you.“What’d you wanna say so bad babe?”

His face was merely centimeters away from yours, warm breath cooling the sheen of sweat on your skin.

Your brain short circuits.

“I saw a bird today.”

He blinks, sobering up slightly.

“A bird?” He asks, the murk in his eyes clearing.

“Yep.”

“I—okay,” he shakes his head, before raising to get up and offer you a hand.

Well, that was expected.

Leon wasn’t much of a chatter to begin with. After what happened 6 years ago, his tendency to say less became stronger. He still always lent an ear to you though, coaxing you to share whatever was bothering you, insisting it wasn’t healthy to keep all your thoughts inside.

‘You don’t wanna end up like me.’ He’d say. That would always bring you down even more. Why does he have to stigmatize himself so much?

You just wish he’d talk to you about his troubles the way you did. But that was too much to think about right now.

After showering and getting changed into something more comfortable, you sat on the bench to pack your things.

Leon walked over before kneeling down to your feet and straightening out your long winter socks.

You could do it yourself, but he always insisted on doing it for you. You suppose it was second nature to busy himself with helping others, even if it was in the simplest way.

As he raised your leg gently, he began to speak again, a soft grin evident on his face, “So…what kind of bird did you see?”

Oh.

So he does care about the bird you didn’t actually see. See? You shouldn’t have doubted him. Leon does that after all, sometimes you think he isn’t all there when you’re talking, but then he’ll randomly bring up or buy you something you mentioned in passing like three weeks ago.

“I uh…I don’t know. It looked like an owl. It was really cute.” You sputtered.

Leon nodded, gently rolling the warm socks onto your ankle and calve.

“…You like owls.” He noted.

“How’d you know?” You ask seeing as you totally made the owl up.

“Well,” He chuckled softly, grunting slightly as he got up to sit next to you,

“You have like two owl plushies. You wouldn’t even let me move them when we were having—”

“Okay—” you bristled, “I just didn’t want them to feel abandoned.” You explained like it was common sense.

Leon huffed, taking your hand in his and leading the both of you toward the door, “Tell you what, you win the next sparring match, I’ll buy you a real owl.”

“Wait actually?”

“No.”