Daydreamin a lot. At the end of the day, I would write it. Really into music, that's where I mostly get my inspiration from. My entire blog is focused on Resident Evil ^^
!! I DO NOT DO ANY SMUTS! and take SMUT REQUESTS! I have blocked #residentevilsmut #leonkennedysmut or anything related to smut blocked. (But I know there will be smuts still in the #residentevil #residentevilxreader tags, but I will not interact with them) I'm only into fluff and angst (mostly angst with no comfort hehe) !!
(English is not my first language)
🍡 || Abby's Masterlist !
𓏲ּ𝄢 ; Hope In Her Arms (Angst)
"Just...Stay with me..." He says, as he let out dark and thick blood.
𓏲ּ𝄢 ; The things your Dad does (Fluff and Purely Platonic)
"Can I have your Dad's numb-" "THAT'S MY DAD!?"
𓏲ּ𝄢 ; My DSO Agent (Yandare!Reader)
Choose me!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
𓏲ּ𝄢 : How does Re9!Leon spoil you? (Fluff)
...More
𓏲ּ𝄢 : Vendetta!Leon x Ex-gf!reader
Leon seems reluctant to cooperate with Chris and Rebecca. Maybe you can help?
A/n : I find re5!Chris cute. Idc what you say. I love this boulder puncher.
-- 536 words
Today feels like a significant occasion.
While it’s not anyone’s birthday, certainly not yours and definitely not Chris's, it has special meaning for you. After a relentless stretch of missions that kept you both apart, Chris finally has a day off. To you, it’s a rare chance to have time to be with Chris without any disturbance.
-
You gradually started waking up, feeling the soft, heavy blanket wrapped around you, keeping you nice and warm. But when your feet brushed against each other, a freezing chill shot up your spine, your legs were super cold, totally different from the cozy warmth above. You were only wearing shorts, and the thin fabric wasn’t cutting it against the winter morning. Even though your legs were freezing, the thick blanket felt great, hugging your upper body and blocking out the cold air that hung around the room.
The chilly morning air wrapped around you, sneaking through your blankets even though winter hadn’t officially hit yet. With a groggy groan, you rolled over, reaching out for some warmth. But instead of finding Chris next to you, your hand brushed against the cold, empty sheets. You let out a sigh. He must’ve gotten up early.
You stretched your arms and legs, shaking off the sleepiness, and sat up as a chill ran over you. Automatically, you wrapped the soft blanket tighter around yourself, trying to block out the morning cold. After a big yawn, you swung your legs off the bed, feeling the cool floor send a little chill up your spine. As you quietly made your way to the kitchen, you hoped to catch a glimpse of Chris, his familiar figure holding a hot cup of coffee.
As you looked around the room, your gaze landed on Chris, lounging on the couch. The flickering light from the news broadcast highlighted his face, and the rich scent of his steaming coffee filled the air, sitting on the glass table in front of him. He caught sight of you and flashed a warm smile. “Mornin' honey…” he said.
“Chrisssss,” you whined, as you hurried across the room. The soft blanket trailed behind you, pooling on the floor. You quickly settled in next to him, your legs fitting snugly against his thighs, searching for warmth.
“Hey—” he grunted, feeling the sudden weight of you as you plopped down onto his lap. You nestled your head into the crook of his shoulder, and he couldn’t help but notice the chill of your legs against his thighs. “Damn your cold legs,” he muttered. He shifted slightly to accommodate your warmth against his side.
"And wow, you're really warm," you said, sinking into the cozy heat coming from him. That warmth wrapped around you like a comfy blanket, making it easy to forget about everything that happened during the day. You could feel his big, gentle hand on your waist, calming you instantly.
“Missed you…” you said softly, pulling back a little to look at him. He had a genuine smile that radiated warmth, and just then, he leaned down and planted a gentle kiss on your forehead. “Missed you more,” he replied, his eyes sparkling in a way that made your heart skip a beat.
I Don't have ANY resident evil game merch, but my girl best friend decided to give me these 🥹🥹🥹 I'm in awe rn. Mostly are re4r leon ahhh 😭🫶 Problem is... idk where to put it lol 😀
(Btw expect a Chris Redfield x Reader fic today ^^)
Abii : 1/5 fics of Chris Redfield done ^^ 4 more to go... I think most of the upcoming Chris Redfield fics will be re8 but one re5... I love re5!chris *inserts caseoh clips*
-- 823 words
After a week away, he finally came back home, stepping through the door looking pretty worn out. He didn’t say much, but it was clear he didn’t really need to. You led him to the bathroom and ran a warm bath. Once he was feeling a bit more refreshed, you headed to the kitchen, where you started cooking dinner.
That night, he fell asleep next to you, wrapped up in the soft sheets. He pulled you close, his strong arms wrapping around you, his face resting against your neck. In that moment, you could almost feel the stress of the week melting away as he relaxed into you, finally free to get some rest.
When morning came, you woke up before him, the delicious smell of breakfast filling the house. He started to stir, stretching like a cat and letting his muscles loosen up after days of tension. The tempting aroma of bacon and eggs drew him out of bed as he wandered into the kitchen. His eyes lit up with admiration, and for a moment, everything felt perfect as he took in the sight of you making breakfast in the morning light.
You could feel his eyes on you. “Good morning, hun,” you said softly, still focused on the pan sizzling in front of you. The sounds of breakfast filled the kitchen, but his footsteps brought a little shiver down your back. When his strong arms wrapped around your waist, you jumped a bit, caught off guard by the sudden hug. He rested his chin on your shoulder, and a giggle slipped out as you felt all warm and fuzzy.
“What’s got you laughing?” he mumbled sleepily.
“Your stubble tickled me,” you replied with a grin while turning off the stove. With a playful smile, you spun around to face him, taking in every little detail of his face. His tired eyes showed it was still early, and his scruffy beard was definitely due for a trim. It added some rugged charm to his look.
Your fingers brushed over his face, feeling the roughness of his stubble. You can clearly see small cuts on his jaw that need cleaning. “I think it’s time for this to go…you'll get an infection,” You said, your eyes locked on his. “When’s the last time you did something for yourself?” you asked, your tone playful but with real concern. He looked at you for a long moment. “...I don’t really keep track,” he finally confessed, a bit sheepishly. You couldn’t help but laugh a little at that. “Yeah, I figured,” you replied with a grin, giving his cheek a gentle pat like you were nudging him to think about some self-care.
-
Chris sat comfortably on the closed toilet seat. In front of him, you sat on a small chair. You reached for the shaving cream, squeezing a small amount into your palm and rubbing your hands together to warm it.
“Hold on,” you murmured, your voice softening as your fingers tilted his chin slightly. “You’ve got cuts here.”
He barely reacted, just a quiet exhale as you carefully dabbed at one of them first, cleaning it before moving on. Only when you were satisfied did you start working the cream into the stubble, slow and deliberate, making sure to be gentle around the irritated skin.
“Try not to move,” you said quietly.
“Wasn’t planning to,” he muttered, though his eyes had already fallen shut, his head tipping back just a fraction as he let you work.
The razor came next. You moved carefully, guiding it along his jaw in short, avoiding the small nicks and bruises. At first, he was tense under your hands, you could feel it in the set of his shoulders, the way his breathing held but little by little, it eased.
“This is…” he paused, voice low, almost surprised, “…not bad.”
You huffed a quiet laugh, brushing your thumb lightly along his jaw to check your progress. “High praise.”
He didn’t answer, but he didn’t pull away either.
You kept going, slower now, more careful where the cuts were, your touch lingering just a second longer than it needed to. The roughness gradually gave way beneath your hands, the uneven stubble replaced with smooth skin as you finished the last pass.
When you finally pulled back, you rinsed your hands and glanced up at him, a small, satisfied smile tugging at your lips.
Chris touched his freshly shaven face, running his fingers over the soft skin. “Feels weird…” he said, surprise in his voice.
You laughed quietly, feeling your heart skip a beat at his new look. “It does, but you always look good,” you replied, leaning in to give him a quick kiss. “Now, go eat while I clean up here.”
“Do you want me to—”
“Just eat,” you cut in playfully, nudging him a bit.
“Fine,” he said with a smile, heading off to the kitchen.
Leon appears reluctant to cooperate with Chris and Rebecca. Hmmm, maybe you can help?
Abii : aye, Emo leon ken is back. Finally finsihed 5 fics of Leon, Chris Redfield fics next :P
-- 915 words
Leon doesn’t move. Not even a flinch, not even a glance. So of course, Chris drags you into it. Because if anyone can crack him, maybe it’s you.
Leon exhales, long and tired, like he’s already over this before it even begins. He turns his back on all of you and taps the counter twice, sharp enough to echo.
The waitress looks over.
“Hey—another dri—” Chris’s hand slams down against the counter. The sound echoes through the room. Leon pauses, then slowly turns his head, eyes flicking toward him. “Cut the shit, Leon.” Leon just… stares. Flat. Like Chris is just a background noise he didn’t ask for.
“Didn’t ask you.”
And just like that, he’s already reaching behind him, pulling out that small flask. The cap twists open with a soft click. “I swear—” Chris starts, voice tightening.
“Leon, please. Just listen—” Rebecca tries, softer.
“I heard you,” Leon cuts in, not even looking at her. “I just don’t care.” And then he drinks. All of it. One go. Like it’s easier that way. “People are going to die,” Chris growls, low and sharp.
Leon laughs.
“Yeah,” he mutters. “They always do.” Silence follows that. Awkward. “So go be the hero, Chris,” Leon adds, almost lazily. “That’s your thing.” Chris just stares at him for a second, before exhaling hard through his nose.
“Fine.”
He turns. Walks toward you, each step heavier than the last. You’re still looking at Leon’s back, rigid and closed off, before Chris’s voice pulls your attention. “You talk to him.” That’s what makes Leon freeze. Mid-motion. Flask halfway up. Like the words physically hit him.
“…What?”
He turns.
And then he sees you. For a second, everything stops. “…You’ve gotta be shitting me.” A short laugh slips out, dry and humorless. He runs a hand through his hair, shaking his head like this is some kind of cruel joke, before turning away again, lifting the flask.
“Of course you’d pull this,” he mutters.
A pause.
“So what, this is your plan now? Drag the past into it?” The flask hovers near his lips. He hesitates. Just for a second. “…Didn’t think I’d see you again.” It’s softer.
The room feels smaller after that. Chris tries again. “Leon—”
“Don’t.”
“You shouldn’t be here.” He was... concerned... but at the same time regret. Rebecca sighs, glancing at you. “He won’t listen to us…” Leon shakes his head slowly. “This isn’t your fight.” “Exactly why you should listen,” Chris cuts in, arms crossed.
Leon shoots him a glare, then looks back at you. “Say what you came here to say.” He doesn’t look away this time. Like he already knows it’s going to hurt. “You look… tired, Leon.”
A small laugh escapes him.
“That’s what you came here to say?”
“No.”
Something in your voice makes his grip tighten around the flask. “You don’t know what happened out there…” he mutters, gaze dropping.
“Then tell me.”
Silence.
Then—
“My team is dead.”
“Every single one of them.”
The room goes quiet again. You close your eyes for a second—you know that weight. You know what that does to a person.
“So don’t stand there and tell me what I should be doing,” he adds, voice rougher now.
“I’m not.”
You step closer. Close enough to catch the sharp edge of alcohol in the air. “I’m asking you what they would’ve wanted.”
That makes him stop.
Really stop.
“Would they want you here?” you gesture slightly—to the flask, to the bar, to this version of him.
“Or out there…”
A pause.
“…finishing what you started?” Leon looks down at the flask. His hand trembles. Just barely—but it’s there.
“We can’t do this without you,” Chris says, quieter now.
“And we’re running out of time,” Rebecca adds.
Leon exhales, dragging a hand down his face like he’s trying to wipe the past off with it. A long silence. He looks at Rebecca.
At Chris.
And then—
Back at you.
“…Damn it.” The flask lowers. “…Alright.” Chris nods once. But Leon’s gaze stays on you. “This doesn’t fix anything,” he says, softer now.
Abii : Finally posted smth after a week of exams ._. Upcoming fic will be Vendetta!Leon , hmhdm
-- 480 words
okay but like… thinking about how Leon spoils you?? It’s actually insane. like the first thing that hits is his paycheck. It’s ridiculous. the kind of money that makes you sit there like… wow, my entire future just got outclassed!
And the thing is, he notices everything. You could mention something once, and suddenly it’s at your door like. Shoes, books, random little things you didn’t even expect him to remember. But he does. He always does.
Your room? Yeah, it slowly turns into this soft little shrine of everything you love. New clothes just appear, stuff for your hobbies? already there before you even decide to buy it yourself. Art supplies, games, whatever you’re into.
And it’s not just gifts, which is the part that really gets you. He gives you pieces of him. Like that jacket he used to wear? Now it’s yours, and it still smells like him, still feels like him.
(and yeah… him giving you his spare gun. very him. “just in case.”)
If you’re the type to forget to eat or just push yourself too hard, oh, he’s not letting that slide. He’s checking in, handing you water, making sure you’ve eaten something real, and when he tells you to sleep? yeah. That’s not a suggestion. That’s an order. the kind where he looks at you, and you already know you lost the argument before it even started. "...sleep." Yes sir.
late-night drives?? god. he loves them. quiet roads, city lights, or somewhere far enough to see the stars.
But of course, he’s still Leon. So loving you also means teaching you how to survive. Self-defense, shooting, staying calm under pressure, he walks you through all of it, making sure you know you can protect yourself. Because he cares, he worries. Because losing you isn’t an option in his world.
The way he loves you is quiet. Just small things that mean everything. Pulling you close, letting you fall asleep against him, staying awake a little longer just to make sure you’re okay.
even when you tell him he needs rest too.
even when he pretends not to care.
always choosing you first, even when he won’t say it out loud.
☆ summary : during the mission inside victor gideon’s hospital, you make the mistake of hiding an injury from leon. he notices anyway and unfortunately, it’s much worse than you let on.
☆ caution : serious injury (reader), blood, mission related violence, tension and banter, canon resident evil style tension and atmosphere, resident evil requiem setting.
☆ note : third instalment to the crybaby rookie mini series.
the surgical wing of the hospital sits in a suffocating quiet, but it only ever feels like that after something awful has already fucked everything in its path and left nothing but the aftermath behind. there’s these overhead lights that are flickering sporadically down the length of the corridor, some are completely dead while others have a faint electrical buzz that echoes just barely against the tiled walls. the air smells sharply of antiseptic—like a typical hospital, but underneath that sterile scent is something sour that clings to the back of the throat. overturned crash carts sit abandoned along the hallway, drawers pulled halfway open where gauze packets and syringes have spilled across the floor. stainless steel trays lie scattered where someone must have knocked them aside in a hurry and the wheels of an empty gurney spin lazily where it sits half tipped against the wall.
leon moves ahead of you with his usual caution, flashlight steady in his hand as the beam glides across open patient rooms and darkened examination bays. most of the doors hang crooked on their hinges, revealing hospital beds left exactly where they were abandoned, restraints still strapped loosely across the mattresses. his posture is tight, shoulders squared, obviously the posture of a man who’s survived too many situations like this.
you follow a few steps behind him, though.. it’s getting harder to keep the same pace. each step sends a dull pulse of heat through your side, something deep and throbbing beneath the layers of your vest and dress. it started earlier you know—back when the two of you forced your way through the lower patient ward but adrenaline had carried you through it at the time. now, sweet reader.. the rush has begun to wear thin, leaving the ache behind in its place. you keep your arm wrapped tight across your middle with your fingers curled into the fabric as if you’re just cold, like it’s nothing more than a habit. but you know it's because you don’t want him to see.
leon slows near the end of the hallway to check an examination room on the left, the beam of his flashlight sliding briefly across overturned stools and a cracked monitor screen before he steps forward again. you try to keep up, but the floor seems to tilt slightly beneath your feet, your shoulder brushing the wall as you steady yourself.
“(name)..?” leon says after a moment, your name leaving him almost absentmindedly, like something about your footsteps finally caught his attention.
“m..hn..?” you respond, the sound barely coherent as you blink slowly at the back of his jacket.
he stops walking. and slowly, leon turns halfway toward you with the beam of his flashlight drifting across the floor between you both as his eyes settle properly on your posture. “what’s the matter with you?” he asks, voice still low but alert now, casual tone gone as he takes in the way you’re leaning against the wall.
you shake your head weakly, though the motion makes the dizziness bloom harder behind your eyes. “jus—um.. feelin’ a little dizzy..” you murmur, trying to straighten even as your fingers tighten reflexively against your side.
“dizzy?” leon repeats, the word flattening as he studies you. his gaze drops almost automatically to your hands, and that’s when he notices the shine along your fingers. deep, red wet. the flashlight lifts slightly, the beam catching the dark stain spreading through fabric and dripping from where you’re trying to hold it in.
“jesus christ,” he mutters under his breath.
there was blood that had already begun to dry, tacky along the edges where it’s been there long enough to thicken. it isn’t fresh. it’s been bleeding for a while.
which means you’ve been hiding it.
leon crosses the distance between you in two quick strides, crouching immediately as the flashlight slips from his hand and rolls across the floor. his movements are fast but he knows what he's doing, its efficiency—much better than your reaction to him getting hurt on a mission one time and you cried like a baby dressing his wound. life of an empath.
leon grabs your arm and pulls it away from your side, exposing the torn fabric underneath. the second the pressure lifts, fresh blood wells up through the opening. he looks at you dead in your face and you know you can’t look him in the eye—so he forces your to with a turn of your jaw.
“why would you do something so stupid, huh?” he mutters, though the tension in his voice isn’t anger so much as something tighter, something so close to panic. “why didn’t you say anything?”
your head tips back slightly against the wall, vision swimming as the flickering fluorescent lights above you smear together. “i didn’t wanna disappoint you..” you admit quietly, the words sounding almost apologetic. “you said i did so good.”
for a second leon goes completely still then he exhales sharply through his nose and tears open a sterile gauze packet with his teeth, pressing the thick padding hard against the wound. pain flares instantly, sharp enough to drag a quiet gasp out of you as your body jerks.
“i did,” he mutters, voice rougher now as he guides your shaking hand down over the gauze. “i did say that.” he presses your palm firmly into place, making sure you keep the pressure there. “hold onto this, alright? keep pressure on it and keep talking to me.”
your fingers barely cooperate, trembling as they press weakly against the bandage. “leon..” your voice wavers slightly, the edges of your vision beginning to blur. “i really don’t feel good..”
he’s already pulling a compression wrap from his kit, hands moving quickly as he begins securing the gauze around your side. “yeah,” he mutters dryly, trying to keep his tone steady despite the way his jaw has tightened. “i figured. you know, i’d be worried if you said bleeding out was a good time.”
the weak joke pulls a small, breathy giggle from you, the sound almost delirious as your head tilts slightly to the side. “funny guy..”
your smile fades slowly as your eyes drift back toward his face, studying him with a hazy focus. “leon.. you’re so handsome..” you murmur again, voice softer now. “if i die.. will you be sad..? don’t—don’t replace me with someone prettier than me.. get some old guy who’s a little mean to you, like chris..”
his head snaps up immediately. “don’t say that,” he scolds, the words cutting through the air as he tightens the wrap around your side. “we’re getting out of here. you’re gonna get stitched up, and then you’re gonna explain why you thought hiding this was a good idea.”
you blink slowly, eyelids growing heavy. “can i ask you something..?” you mumble.
leon sighs faintly as he finishes securing the bandage, though he doesn’t stop working. “anything, but i need you to keep your eyes open.” he gives your cheek two soft (but firm) pats that make you a little more alert and you whisper an apology.
your voice comes out quieter now, drifting somewhere between consciousness and exhaustion. “would you ever see me as anything more than your coworker..?”
his hands pause for half a second before continuing their work. “in what way are you asking, sugar?” he asks.
your gaze drifts back to him, unfocused but earnest. “in a… boyfriend-girlfriend way..”
leon lets out a quiet breath that almost sounds like a tired laugh, of course. of course you decide now is the time to ask that as he’s pressing his hand firmly over yours, reinforcing the pressure against the bandage so you don’t bleed out.
“survive this,” he says, voice low and steady despite the tension running through him. “and you’ll get my answer.”
Just saw a poll of who's married to Leon (which I didn't interact with cuz idk ._.)
.
.
Sherry Birkins
Oh. WHAT 😭 GENUINELY I DIDN'T EVEN THOUGHT OF SHERRY BEING IN THE OPTION. Cuz i jst thought she's married to jake muller 🤓 or idk. BECAUSE IM A BIGGGGG SHERRY X JAKE SHIPPERR, THEY BOTH LOOK SOOOOO-
And I jst see them both as colleagues working together. Where did ppl hear the word "Anata" in the japanese dub I CANT FIND IT. I was so curious abt this shipwar, i have 7 tabs abt it lmao 😂.
Also, Nick Apostolides.
"I don't know, I feel like I could get into big trouble for saying that" (He's scared to pick a side if its ada or claire) Real
(btw, is McDonald's collaborating with resident evil soon)
