18+, p in v, oral (f & m receiving), masturbation, blow/hand job, toys, praise, (let me know if I need to add something!)
A—Aftercare:
Leon Kennedy is a sweetheart. He’s immediately checking on you once he collects his wits. A cold glass of water, a warm rag, and lots of reassurance. If you try to clean him up, he shakes his head softly. “I’m a big boy now, remember?”(cornball) And glancing at the paper confirming he’s going to be a cop at R.P.D. Helps you into a bath before getting in as well. The rest of the night is spent talking and eventually resting.
B—Body Part:
This man loves every single part of you. Though if he absolutely has to pick a favorite body part, he’s choosing your thighs. Whether they’re thin, thick, in-between; doesn’t matter to him, he loves it. His favorite place to be is between your thighs with your fingers tugging at his roots. You swear he’s gonna loose oxygen flow to his brain one day.
C—Cum:
In the beginning of your guys relationship he always wore protection. However later on once boundaries are established it’s usually raw. He jokes about mastering his pull out game, typically painting your stomach or chest with his cum. If he gets to cum on your tits he is a whimpering mess. “Sh-shit, you’re so beautiful, so pretty- mm love you” He whines breathlessly. Or other times where you’ve sucked him off for just being "the best bf ever” and he's shooting his load down your throat while whimpering your name alongside “thank you”.
D—Dirty Secret:
He would never admit this but he has taken your panties. You’re so pretty in them and when he’s jerking off he’ll wrap the fabric around his leaking tip till he cums on the gusset. Even better when he gets to cum in your panties and then watch you put them back on. His poor cock in already leaking and hard again. (poor baby)
E—Experience:
At this point in Leon’s life he’s already lost his virginity and maybe done it once or twice since. He knows what he’s doing even if he fumbles a bit due to nerves. You just make him so eager!
F—Favorite Position:
If you’re on top he loves either version of cowgirl. If he’s in a mood where he just wants to see your ass; reverse it is. If he’s in a mood where he wants to see your tits and face; regular cowgirl then. If he is on top then it’d be something more like missionary or prone bone. He loves getting to be able to see your face contort in pleasure and then look down and see you sucking him in so tight. And a bonus if you’re a plus size girly he loves seeing how your tummy looks. As for prone bone he loves it because he’s able to hit the perfect angle inside you.
G—Goofy:
If tipsy he might make a few jokes during but it usually too busy moaning or praising you. After sex he is definitely cracking jokes. It’s a method of consoling and comfort to him. Getting to make you laugh is one of his greatest joys in life is making you laugh.
H—Hair:
He shaves it till smooth, it’s just the way he feels put together. Sometimes he lets it grow out a bit when he’s overwhelmed with academy work or life in general. Leon doesn’t mind his partner having hair down there or vise versa. #needthat
I—Intimacy:
He is very affectionate. He likes to hug you while sliding into your warmth, kissing your neck, shoulders, or chest. Also kissing every inch of your thighs before eating you out. If out his hand is always on the small of your back or your back pocket. Leon even burned a CD of your favorite songs for sex.
J—Jerk Off:
Like mentioned in dirty secret he does jerk off. It’s not too often since he has you. Jerks off to Polaroids of you in lingerie or nothing at all. Will play voicemails you left on his answering machine as well.
K—Kink:
If he is feeling dominant he likes to play with his newly gained title of officer and you as a “criminal”(Fiona Apple mentioned). Using cuffs, prone boning, dirty talk, all that good stuff. When feeling more submissive he likes you to play as a chief and him as the rookie. Now he’s getting tied up and whimpering into the sheets as you edge him. “Please, please. I’ll be so good.. so good for you”; He cries as you ride him with his hands behind his back.
L—Location:
Leon would have the different spots in you guys apartment ranked in his head. 1-Bed 2-Kitchen Counter 3-Shower 4-Couch. The bed is soft and bouncy, big enough for lots of moving around and being spread. The kitchen counter is perfect for make outs that turn into a blow job or you bent over the counter slab. The shower is great because you can clean off immediately after and Leon gets a rush from being able to hold you up so safely in the steamy environment. The couch always comes in handy when you two are too aroused to make it to the bedroom.
M—Motivation:
Leon’s biggest turn on is when you get bossy. Telling him what to do and how to do it, with that bossy little tone. He looks at you with those puppy eyes and nods, “Yes ma’am”. And if you promise he can eat you out after? He’s scurrying around the home with such efficiency it’d put a Rumba to shame. There was a time where you were frustrated from work, it was hot outside, Leon was rambling and pacing as well. So you snapped; “Stop. Seriously stop pacing, turn your ass to the couch, and sit down.” Leon looked up with wide eyes and a hardening cock. Just as you were about apologize, he pounced into a heated kiss.
N—No:
No hurting you. No pushing your boundaries. He isn’t going to try anything new without asking and getting your clear approval. He loves you and doesn’t want to risk it for something as small as sex.
O—Oral:
Addicted to that puh. Loves the build up, the first taste, the messy during, and drinking in your cum. His goal is to make you cum at least twice just from his mouth and fingers. Starts with a kiss on your clit and ends with a kiss on your clit. You have the rule where three taps in a row means your done because Leon very well would eat you out forever. Has he nearly came in his boxers from grinding against the bed while eating you out? Duh. And Leon is always appreciative of a blow job when he’s earned it.
P—Pace:
He likes to take it slower. Warming you up with his fingers, sliding in carefully, then speeding up a bit when thrusting. Typically the pace is quicker when you top. He can go fast if you’d like but he prefers to really live out the pleasure. Conveys his love with his pace.
Q—Quickies:
He’d mention wanting a blow job or quickly have sex on the couch before work. He doesn’t like to make you feel pressured so it’s usually delivered with humor. You know Leon well enough to read when it’s a joke or it’s horniness.
R—Risk:
He doesn’t take too many risk when it comes to your sex life. Semi-public settings are a maybe and very circumstantial. He has this whole “I’m a cop, good guy” thing going on so he tries to uphold his image. However, If the events of September ‘98 never happened best believe you two fucked in the back of his cop car.
S—Stamina:
Leon is still young, has gone through police training, and is a fool in love. He can go for as long as you need unless he’s sore from some workout. Likes to do a round or two of him topping then a round or two of bottoming.
T—Toys:
Multiple vibrators in the house. A discreet one for when you’re alone that stays in your bed side drawer. Two magic wand vibrators, “his and hers”, Leon likes to joke. Some cuffs and a satin scarf you guys use for more than keeping warm.
U—Unfair(teasing):
Ghosting touches of his hands on your hips, your neck, your ass, etc. Just enough to send a little spark up your spine. “Fuck, I should arrest you for how hard you’re making me”, he’ll whine softly in your ear. Leon loves being teased by you, it melts him.
V—Volume:
Loud and whiney. He can’t quite hold back his whimpering even if he tried. You just make him feel so good. Why suppress it if it’s what he’s feeling? If you’re riding him and his face is between your tits he's babbling away, “Fuck, you’re so perfect, m’your good boy, love you so much”.
W—Wild Card:
He HAPPILY lets you peg him, he’s a good boy.
X—X-ray:
I am a firm believer that Leon has a little more than the average guy, however, he is a grower. So when hard it’s slightly girthier and long. His cock is picturesque, pale base and the prettiest pink mushroom tip. It gets a rosy red color when it’s practically weeping pre-cum.
Y—Yearning:
He loves you so much. He can’t picture life without you anymore. His sex drive also adds to that. And most the time it’s just him wanting a taste of you. He thanks you for your support and love whenever he can. #needy
Z—Zzz:
Leon’s sleep schedule is actually pretty good since he isn’t dealing with PTSD at this point. So after sex and a shower he likes to go to bed. He cuddles up super close, kisses your back or cheeks and says his usual goodnight. If you guys are having sex during the day he doesn’t really get super tired after so he usually just cuddles and watches some silly movie or TV reruns. His favorite movie to watch post sex is Jurassic Park. He just loves the classics.
One should always exercise extreme caution when using bioterrorists' safe houses, lest they have poorly contained drugs that turn even the most battle-hardened agent into a one-track-mind andy. Not to mention his civilian stray that he picked up along the way.
aka you and Leon get sex-pollened.
Warnings/tags: 18+ MDNI. Sex pollen, dubcon, unprotected PIV, fingering, c u m, creampie, plot w/ smut, no use of y/n, i'm probably forgetting a million tags
A/N: It has been a loooooong time since I've written anything, so hopefully this isn't trash cause I'm still getting my sea legs under me. If it is trash, don't tell me. If it isn't trash, do tell me that. (Also sorry if this formatting is ass, I'm brand new again)
Word count: 8.8k
Read on AO3
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The world was falling apart around you. Traffic light poles were collapsed on the ground, shooting sparks into the air and against the crumpled, piled up cars. Flickering neon lights of a nearby pub illuminated the puddle and broken glass in red. Daytime had been frightening enough, but now night had fallen and the only sounds that remained were the low murmurs and shuffling of the “people” that wandered aimlessly down the street.
And your hiding spot had been compromised.
You crouched behind a charred sedan, heat still emanating from the mechanical carcass. Your options were limited. You knew that Gordon often forgot to lock up the barbershop, so there was a chance you could try to hole up in the apartment upstairs and pray that the fire escape offered a suitable emergency exit. You could try to make it to the school and hope that someone left a bike unchained, which you could try to take to your car – which was hopefully not on fire, like so many – and drive as far away from here as your gas tank would allow you.
The notion of gaining some distance, knowing that the next hiding space had no guarantee of being any safer than your previous, was far more desirable. The two blocks you would need to sneak through, hidden from the shambling corpses, however, did not look inviting. What choice did you have?
Scuttling from car to post office box, to bush, you made it to the nearest intersection, keeping low despite the burning protest in your thighs. None of the crossroads in town were exactly huge, but this one was far more open than you would like, despite the pileup on the other side of the crosswalk. There was a 10 foot gap that you would need to cross before you had cover on any side, and even further until you would be protected on either side.
Poking your head over the nearby parked car, you waited and watched for an opening. Dragging footsteps receded around the back of a car next to you, and ahead, a mindless drone turned their back to you. You glanced around the corner building and saw a few once-people meandering into a building, partially collapsed with a truck jutting out of the destroyed façade.
With a steeling breath, you pushed off your heel and ran across the gap then came skidding to a stop, dropping your hand back behind you to keep yourself from falling flat on your ass. Before you could appreciate your achievements, you heard a low gurgle entirely too close. With a quick glance back, you saw a zombie clumsily emerge from a shop, two buildings down. You swore silently and scrambled to regain your balance and dash forward, only to lose your feet from under you when another tumbled out of a broken window right before you when you reached the other side of the street.
A shout and swear of surprise came too quickly to be caught before you voiced it. You pushed yourself up from all fours, feet scrambling for purchase on the sidewalk. Finally, you were upright and running, but the commotion had drawn a very unpleasant crowd. You bolted past one, two, three buildings before you were cut off again. Another coming from your left. Too many coming from behind you.
An enormous crack echoed through the air, and you instinctively dropped to a crouch, covering your head. The zombie to your left no longer had a head.
“Hey! Over here!”
You followed the sound of the authoritative instruction to a second storey window at the end of the small alleyway between two brick buildings, where a man stood, rifle aimed toward the street. Another crack, like lightning from a storm far too close, made you jump, but the second body dropping just feet from you made you run, fast as you could across the street and down the alley.
“You okay?” the man called, leaning out of the window.
“Yeah, I think so,” you responded.
“Climb up the bin.” No sooner had the words left his mouth was he aiming the gun behind you. You took a running start and hoisted yourself up. Crack! Crack! Crack crack! You scoured the wall for a way up, and there was one – it was just out of reach. Down the alley, more bodies dropped. It was now or never.
You jumped back down and ignored the question that came from the stranger.
With all the strength you had left, you pushed your entire body against the bin with a yell, and after a moment the wheels obeyed, and the bin rolled below the roof access ladder. Crack! Crack! A sudden explosion sent heat and a wave of force in all directions, knocking you and the bin back and against the wall. You groaned but shoved yourself back up. The bin moved uncertainly under your weight as you pulled yourself back up again.
You reached for the fire escape ladder. It was too high. You jumped for it, and your fingers were not even close to grazing it.
“Hang on!” He sat himself sideways on the windowsill, continuing to aim and fire while he stretched his leg and kicked the ladder, once, twice, and a third time before it dislodged and dropped another few feet. Crackcrackcrack! “You better hurry!”
At the entrance of the alley, a horde was picking up pace and your scent. “Fuck.” Gambling with a few precious seconds, you braced your back against the wall and your feet against the ledge of the bin and pushed as hard as you could. The second it started gaining momentum down the slight decline, you leapt for the ladder, managing to grab onto the third rung. The bin rattled and careened down the pavement and, as you used muscles you didn’t even know existed to pull yourself up the ladder, you heard a loud crash and cacophony of splats and crunches and grunts.
The ladder trembled underfoot.
“Hurry!” the man shouted.
You shut out the fear and the aches of your muscles and climbed, trying not to pay attention to how it felt like the ladder was banging against the wall, which meant it was no longer secured to the wall. And now that you were too high up to fall with any measure of safety, you faced the next challenge. The ladder was around five feet from the window. The man had both feet inside again but was leaning his upper torso into the open air, reaching one hand out to you while the other was braced against the top of the window frame.
“You’re going to have to jump.” You snuck a glance toward the ground and quickly shut your eyes. Your hands ached – actually, all of you ached. “Don’t look down. Look at me.” That wasn’t a suggestion; it was a command, and one you obeyed before making the decision to. “I’m not going to let you fall, okay?” The all too familiar of drunken shuffles returned below. “You gotta trust me.”
You squeezed your eyes shut and took a few deliberate breaths. And then the metal groaned above you. It shifted under you, then dropped an inch.
“Jump!” And again, your body listened before your brain had the chance to overthink. The world fell from beneath your feet with a loud crash as a strong hand grasped your wrist and you swung and scraped against the brick. You only realized that you had screamed when you were dangling below the window.
“Holy shit,” you breathed. “Holy shit.”
“I got you,” he said, voice strained as he grasped your hand with one of his and reached further down to hoist you up by your thigh with the other. You finally tumbled through the window, landing on blessedly solid flooring with embarrassingly unsteady legs. The man held you firm at the waist and kept you upright while you uselessly clawed at his shirt and holster to do the same. “Hey, easy now. I got you.”
Your chest rose and fell fast and hard, and you swallowed hard, nodding. “I’m okay. I’m okay.” Were you telling him that, or yourself? “Thank you.”
“What’s your name?”
“Huh?”
“I’m Leon,” he said, inclining his head to get your eyes to focus on his. They were discerning, and a colour that would feel cold if they weren’t so kind. Serious, but kind. “What’s your name?” You absently mumbled it, distracted again by the sounds coming from outside. “Are you hurt?”
“I don’t- I don’t think so.”
“Don’t look outside. Look at me.” You locked eyes. “We need to keep moving, so I need to know if you’re hurt.”
You shook your head. “Banged up. That’s all.”
Seemingly unsatisfied with your answer, he took to pulling and turning you and your limbs this way and that. “We need to treat this cut, when we can,” he – Leon, apparently – said. You looked at the spot on your forearm he was focused on, and sure enough, there was a nasty gash that you didn’t remember getting. You clenched and released your fist, testing the pain. You were surprised to find that it didn’t hurt.
You shrugged. “Seems fine.”
“You’ve got adrenaline coursing through you right now. When that subsides, you’ll feel it. Let me know when that happens.” He waited for your acknowledgement before turning away from you and leading you into a dimly lit hallway, gun in hand. “Stay close.”
You watched the way he carried himself, checking around corners and through open doorways with quiet ease. You knew that there was some kind of activity – government, you assumed – that was occasionally carried out outside town, but everyone you’d ever seen that looked the part seemed far more uptight. “Who did you say you were?”
“Leon Kennedy,” he answered without looking back. “DSO.”
“Bioterrorism? Should I be more worried about the cut than I am?”
“No, just your classic bacteria and infection.”
“Oh, goody.”
He glanced back at you, and in the dim lighting, it almost looked like he smirked. “You did well back there, by the way. Good instincts.”
You blew a raspberry. “I’d be dead if it weren’t for you.”
Coming up to the stairwell door, Leon held is hand up and you stopped behind him. “Wait here,” he whispered. He pressed his ear to the door, paused, then slowly opened the door and soundlessly stepped through it, holstering his gun and taking an axe from his belt. You kept your back against the wall and watched him sneak up on a zombie as the door began slowly swinging closed. He raised his arm and you squeezed your eyes shut as he brought his arm down and buried the head of the axe in the back of the zombie’s skull.
A moment later the door swung back open and he nodded for you to follow him as he flicked the weapon and blood splattered on the floor in a thin line. Your foot hit the floor, and a zombie flung itself down the stairs toward Leon. Another fell from the floor above, hitting the rail and sending his spinning body directly in Leon, knocking him off his feet. Before the one still on its feet noticed you, you rushed it. Pushing your shoulder into its chest with all the force you could muster, you sent it careening over the railing and down the stairwell. It landed with a thud and splatter.
A wet crunch to your left caught your attention just in time to see Leon crush the other zombie’s head against the cement wall with nothing but his hand. Your stomach threatened to send what remained of its contents up, but you swallowed it back down and reached out a hand to help him up after he pushed the body, twice dead, off himself. On his feet, he nodded his thanks. “You’re pretty handy.”
From the floor above the stairwell door crashed open and a discordance of animalistic growls and uncoordinated footsteps echoed against the tile floors.
“Come on!” Leon said, pulling the hand he still held, and you with it, down the flight of stairs. You both ran. A body tumbled down behind you, but its struggle to get back on its feet offered you a few second to regain distance. At the bottom, you jumped over the remains of your victory and burst into the street.
Bloodied and rotten heads swivelled toward the racket. Too many heads. The door behind you rattled as some mindless thing struggled to get it open. Leon pulled out a handgun and with impressive speed and accuracy, he took aim and fired over and over again. Bodies dropped, but not fast enough. He jerked his chin to a nearby Porsche. “That’s our ride,” he yelled over the gun fire and growls. The stairwell door burst open and the first few fell on their face, but the ones that came after only stumbled on their way toward you. “Go! Now!”
You ran, listening for the continued pop! pop! that promised you were not alone in this disaster again. You came up to the car a lot faster than you thought you would and ran straight into it, nearly knocking yourself on your ass. You frantically groped for the door handle and jumped in the second you could, slamming the door closed behind you. Pop pop pop! You turned in the seat just in time to see Leon take off toward you, closing the distance with impressive speed. Quickly checking if the way was clear, you reached across to the driver’s side and opened the door.
Leon leapt and slid across the trunk, and before you knew it, he was next to you, starting the ignition, door slammed closed, foot heavy on the gas pedal. The tires spun, the back end swayed, and then the car was flung in the opposite direction, and you sped toward the town exit. He drove expertly around obstructions, but after the second speedbump-body, you put on your seat belt with shaking hands. You pressed one hand to the roof and braced both feet in the footwell, glancing at your driver with wide eyes.
He was entirely focused on the task at hand, jaw set and breathing steady but hard. His hands and feet worked effortlessly in tandem as he switched gears, drifted around corners, and swerved to avoid obstacles. The muscles and tendons on his exposed forearms were tense and looked rock hard, and biceps pushed the limits of what any t-shirt could be expected to contain.
In just a few minutes the buildings were replaced with evergreen trees, and the car flew past the welcome sign at the city limits and Leon eased off the gas just a bit. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding. The sound of your name pulled your attention.
“Hey, you with me?”
You shook your head to clear it of cobwebs. “Yeah, I’m good. I’m good.”
“I need to get you somewhere safe where you can hole up until I finish cleaning this mess up.”
“Why? Where are you going?”
“I need to locate the entrance to a facility – probably underground with some kind of civilian building for cover. Can’t be too far from the town, but they wouldn’t want anyone knowing what it was. Restricted access, heavily forested surroundings. Lots of natural cover.”
You tapped a finger against your leg. “Like a gated Air BNB that’s not really an Air BNB?”
“What?”
“Every now and then we get military and government stooge types in town. Word is that they stay at an Air BNB that’s a few clicks east of here, but whenever I’ve checked it out online, it’s never available. Photos looked kind of AI and the address listed doesn’t exist, but there is a gated yard of some recluse in the area. It could be that.”
“Do you think you could show me?”
“Sure, but we need to turn around and take that road we passed-”
Leon yanked the wheel as he pulled the handbrake and you were tossed against the window and then towards Leon, grabbing his shoulder to brace yourself. In a blink, you were speeding in the opposite direction. He glanced at you. “Sorry.”
Suddenly realizing your hand was still firmly digging into him, you quickly took it back. “Sorry. I mean, it’s fine. You’re crazy, but it’s okay.”
“Gotta keep things interesting, y’know?”
“Right,” you said, nodding up ahead.
“When you’ve seen the things I have-”
You realized in a flash that he misunderstood, and you shouted, “Right! Turn right!”
Again, with the force of Leon’s sudden and forceful turn, you instinctively reached out to grab him. The car straightened after a few tailspins. Your breathing came out fast and heavy. “Shall I just crawl into your lap and buckles us both in together so you can stop tossing me around?”
“Well, that would make things interesting,” he said, giving you a lopsided smirk but easing off the gas just a bit.
The rest of the drive was smoother, with talking limited to you giving out directions far more in advance than what was probably necessary, but you were grimy, achy, and the cut on your arm was indeed starting to burn. After a couple detours down the incorrect winding driveways, you finally found the one everyone gossiped about. A heavy gate blocked it, and you were worried that Leon was just going to crash through it, but instead, he got out, found an electrical box to fiddle with. After a brief interlude, the gates swung open.
Much to your surprise, there was actually a house at the end of the road. You had already convinced yourself there would be little more than a hatch to some underground labyrinth. That was, of course, assuming you hadn’t actually just broken into some part-time neighbor’s vacation home. Leon cut the engine and draped a forearm across the steering wheel, scanning the house and surroundings.
“Stay here.” He stepped out, locking the doors and you inside the car, as he left. You watched him as he walked around the house, handgun at the ready. He disappeared around the corner, and you waited. And waited. And waited. What felt like hours but must’ve been closer to ten minutes passed when the front door opened and panic burst through you in a flash before dissipating just as quickly when the increasingly familiar silhouette of Leon Kenendy walked through the door, weapon holstered.
The locks popped open and you stepped out. Leon waved you over, so you made your way to the porch.
“There’s food, a bed, hot water, and good security,” he said as you joined him. “Haven’t found the entrance to the facility yet, but it’s a decent place for you to get some rest.” Leon gave you a quick tour of the small house – small kitchen with an island, single bedroom, serviceable washroom, basic living room – and showed you how to work the security panel that would secure the windows and doors behind Leon after he left. The thought sunk to the pit of your stomach where it twisted and hardened. Being alone again was far from an appetizing thought, especially after Leon had proven himself to be such a capable protector.
Yes, you had managed to keep yourself alive for hours on your own, but you knew your chance of survival with Leon was far higher than without. Still, this crisis wasn’t going to solve itself if you asked Leon to babysit you instead of doing his job. So, while he continued to search for the entrance, you rifled through the dresser in the bedroom and found a men’s flannel shirt and boxers and took them to the washroom where you scrubbed yourself from head to toe in the shower.
A few times the water hit your cut, and you hissed from the pain, vowing to find the first aid kid in this place as soon as you were dry and dressed. With the water off, you were relieved to still hear the low rumblings of Leon’s voice from somewhere in the house, talking to someone who you could not hear.
The cabinet in the bathroom held none, so you exited and found a linen closet in the hallway. Way at the top of the shelf was a white box with a green cross, another unmarked container sitting atop it. You stood on your tiptoes and reached, fingertips barely grazing the first aid kit – just enough to nudge it closer, bit by bit.
Suddenly, the weight of the box on top tipped it over the edge, and both of them crashed down. The first aid kit spilled its contents at your feet, and the other fell open on the shelf in front of you, sending a plume of pink power into your face. You coughed and waved it away with one hand while you covered your mouth and nose with the other and stepped back, but the oddly sweet taste in your mouth and the tingle in your sinuses told you that you were a bit too slow with your reaction.
Hurried footsteps sounded behind you, and you turned to find Leon coming up quickly towards you. “What happened?” he asked, voice demanding. He stopped short, but not quite short enough to avoid the remnants of the thinning cloud. Leon coughed and shook his head as if trying to dislodge the dust in his throat. “The fuck.”
He grabbed your shoulders and pulled away from the closet. The heat from his hands seeped through the flannel, spread across your back and climbed up the back of your neck. Even when he left to investigate, the heat did not subside. You watched him gingerly flip the container around pull his phone out of his back pocket – how had you not noticed how amazing his ass was before this moment? – to take a picture of his findings. “Sherry,” he said, pressing a finger to his ear. “I just sent you a photo. I need to know what it is.” Leon knelt, shirt stretching across his back, to pick up the first aid materials. His fingers were deft, assured, and you wanted them buried inside you.
You choked on the sudden and intrusive thought, a hot blush spreading across your face as you turned away from Leon, whom you could feel looking at you. At your core, your pulse thrummed, strong and demanding. Pressing a hand against the cool wall, you tried to steady yourself. Get it together, you ordered yourself.
“Hey, you alright?” It almost felt like Leon’s voice came from within your head, the low gravel scratching an itch and then reigniting it immediately after. His scent washed over you and you breathed it in, eyes drifting closed. Even the thought of his smell being in you made you lightheaded. You weren’t sure how many times Leon repeated your name before he gave your face a gentle slap, finally bringing you back to the present moment.
“Huh?” You blinked. “Oh. Sorry, I don’t know where I went.” You wondered if he tasted as good as he smelled. You licked your lips.
“Come on. Let’s-“ He took in a sharp breath and a step backward, turning away from you a grunt. You wondered what other delicious sounds he could make. “Sherry, any minute now.” His voice was strained. Without looking back at you he pointed down the hall. “You. Kitchen. Now.”
You took two steps before realizing that you were mistakenly headed to Leon. You shook your head and forced yourself to turn around, despite the repeating voice in your head telling you to go back and climb Leon like a tree. With each foot you put in front of the other, the heat now coursing through your veins sent an aching soreness to your muscles. A cold sweat broke out on the back of your neck, and your vision swam. The corners of your vision darkened, and what didn’t, moved this way and that with the tide of your heavy breaths. Demanding warmth and slick spread over your inner thighs.
After what felt like hours, you finally made it to your instructed destination. Gripping the edge of the counter, you went to the fridge and opened it, and the freezer above. You tried undoing the buttons of your borrowed shirt, but your fingers were useless, clumsy things, so you settled with lifting the hem to your chest, head falling back at the relief, however mild it was.
Relief. Maybe if you could quickly get yourself off, you would be able to think clearly again. Or think at all. As soon as the idea formed in your mind, the pulsing between your legs grew impossibly strong. Your legs turned to jelly, and you didn’t care to fight it, sliding to the floor with your back against the cabinets. You squeezed your legs together and wiggled your hips, which was enough to send a bolt of pleasure through your body. You moaned, eyes closed and head thrown back, not even considering that you should try to mask your noises. In fact, the thought that Leon might overhear you and come help you sent a fresh rush of warmth pooling in your lower stomach. You felt a trail of wetness slide down past your puckered hole.
You smelled him before anything else, and then he was kneeling next to you, grabbing your wrists and holding them firm in one of his hands. From behind hooded eyes, you drank in everything you could – his stubbled jaw, messy hair, strong neck, his pecs straining against the tee. As you squirmed, wet thighs slid against each other and nudged your throbbing clit back and forth.
“How much of that powder did you inhale?”
-----
Leon stalked to the bathroom to get more distance from you as you slowly made your way to the kitchen, but the smell of you wafting from the clothes on the floor nearly brought him to his knees. His eyes zeroed in on your underwear, and he could nearly see your scent trail as he inhaled, sending his head spinning and the desire in the pit of his stomach growing.
And that was not the only thing growing. What started as an inappropriate chub was quickly becoming a very frustrating hardon. He returned to the hallway and shut the bathroom door behind him, hoping that it would offer some reprieve. Leon braced a folded forearm against the door and dropped his forehead against it, closing his eyes and breathing in and out deliberately. Slowly.
He imagined you pinned between his hips and the door, taking him into your mouth. With a frustrated groan he shoved off and paced up and down the hallway until Sherry’s voice provided some level of distraction.
“Leon, I got something. APH-6, aka Aphrogen aka Pink Haze was an aphrodisiac drug that was intended to be used primarily in honeypot schemes. It boasted the induction of intense attachment and arousal in the subject, significantly decreasing inhibitions and increasing trust and dependency.”
“Dependency?”
“Yeah…the subject was essentially punished for, um, self-reliance in terms of arousal. Instead of the release of dopamine, oxytocin, and endorphins, subjects reported feelings of intense desperation, increased arousal to the point of pain, and a sense of impending doom. Not for nothing – more than one subject died from subarachnoid haemorrhage after being withheld from their partner.”
“Spontaneous aneurysm?”
“You got it.”
“After how long?”
“If the subject was strapped down? An hour. If they were free to, uh, you know…”
“I got it.”
“20 minutes. Maybe less, I’m afraid, with high dosages. The issues seem to, uh, compound pretty quickly. Even separating the subject from their target of desire for short periods of time caused severe confusion and disorientation. The good news is that the effects can be reversed reasonably well, if you have the right person to course correct the subject’s diminishing state.”
“Right.” Leon cleared his throat. “You said ‘intended.’ It was shelved?”
“Correct. It didn’t work the way they wanted. If the subject didn’t experience attraction without the administration of the drug, it was essentially a death sentence unless there was someone else in the vicinity that would be, um, suitable. For the subject. A ‘target of desire.’ They had no control over the subject’s target beyond who was in the room.” There was a heavy pause. “Leon…how much trouble are you in?”
“It’s not me I’m worried about. Mostly.”
“The woman?”
“Yeah.”
“How much?”
“I don’t know. A lot. The container fell open five inches from her face.”
“Shit. And you?”
“I’ll be fine.” Somehow. If through nothing more than willpower, he would be okay. He had to be. “You said that the subjects can’t, ah-”
“Self-serve.”
“Right. What about more clinical assistance? From a distance?”
“Leon, we’re going to get through this conversation and then pretend it never happened, okay? If she got as big of a dose as it sounds like she did, you need to be clear in what you’re asking so I can be clear in my instruction.”
“Assuming that I’m a ‘suitable target’ for the subject – do I need to personally administer treatment or can I use…instruments.”
“By ‘instruments’ do you mean tools or digits?”
Leon swore under his breath. “Both.”
“Tools, I doubt it. Digits, to a degree. Significantly less effective than a more personal-”
“Got it.”
“No, not just that. Ah.” Leon could practically hear Sherry wishing she went into admin instead of operations. “To get her out of the haze before the negative effects build up, you will need to exchange bodily fluids. You may buy time with other activities, but that is all.”
Leon tried to be disappointed. He hated himself for not being disappointed. But there was nothing he wanted more than to charge into the kitchen and bury himself inside you and leave even more of himself there. He adjusted his hardon, stifling a groan at the slight touch. The pull to palm himself was so strong, he momentarily forgot that Sherry was still on the line with him and squeezed his cock, eyes rolling in the back of his head with a sigh.
“Leon?”
For the first time in years – decades, maybe – he startled. “I got it. Standby.”
“Remember to hydrate!”
-----
“How much of that powder did you inhale?”
“Who?”
He shook his head to himself before pausing. He turned your arm around. “Sherry. What would happen if it got into an open wound?” Leon pressed his free hand against your hips, forcing them still. He dropped his head. “Copy that. I’m, uh…probably going to be radio silent for a bit. I’ll check in when I can.” You fought against his holds, not to be free of them for the sake of escape, but to close the distance he was cruelly enforcing. He fixed his eyes on yours. “Listen to me. We’ve been drugged. Seems like you got a pretty big dose, including one directly into your bloodstream. I don’t think I need to tell you what the symptoms are.”
His jaw stayed tight as he spoke, which only made you wonder why he was talking at all when there were so many other things he could be doing instead. Stupid. You tried to wrench your hands free, and when that didn’t work you pushed up to kiss him, but he only moved your hands overhead and pinned them against the edge of the countertop. You let out a loud, frustrated groan and tested the hold against your hips and found it less secure.
With his scent swirling around you, his hands, warm and large, on your wrists and hips, the small amount of friction you managed to steal made you gasp. Leon tightened both grips. “Listen-” He readjusted his stance, shoving a knee between your thighs which you immediately tried to rub yourself against. He of course, did not allow it. You whined, head falling to the side in self-pity until your eyes caught the bulge in his pants. Saliva flooded your mouth and you moaned.
“Fuck, just- sit still for fifteen seconds and I’ll give you what you want, okay?”
That got your attention and was likely the only thing that would get your eyes off of your current fixation. Chest rising and falling quickly, the fibers of the flannel caressed your nipples. You felt the ridges of his fingerprints against your skin. It took every ounce of strength you had, and was only possible because of the promise made, to sit reasonably still.
You bore your eyes into his, fearing that if you looked anywhere else you would simply crumble into a pile of ash and bone. It was as if you were being kept alive simply by being in his presence. Being seen by him. Being touched by him. If your heart stopped beating, you were sure your desire for this man would be enough to keep the blood pumping in your veins. The feeling was so intense and raw, you had no presence of mind to be embarrassed by the tears pooling in your eyes – you were only annoyed they obstructed your view of his perfect face.
“You’re under the influence of an aphrodisiac, do you understand?”
You watched his lips form the words, catching a glimpse of his tongue behind perfect teeth. You nodded, because that was what he seemed to want from you.
“If we don’t address your symptoms, there is a non-zero chance you will suffer an aneurysm and die.”
God, he smelled so good. You almost tried leaning forward to bury your face in his neck before you remembered his promise. Instead, you pinpointed the exact spot you were going to lick first.
“I have been drugged, too. Less than you, and I will do my best to keep myself under control.”
Again, stupid.
“I am sorry if I can’t.”
You waited for him to finish his useless monologue. When he didn’t continue, you asked the only question that mattered. “Fifteen?”
He let out a shaky breath which washed over your mouth and nodded, loosening his holds. The moment you could, you grabbed his neck to pull him down to your lips and inhaled him, shifting your hips forward until your center hit the meat of his thighs. He moaned into your mouth, and this time when he gripped your hips it was to encourage your circular movements of your hips until he evidently wanted more and sat back on his haunches and pulled you with him. You settled on his lap, which put your apex right on top of his hardon.
Leon reached around and slid his hands under the boxers you still tragically wore, massaging the cheeks of your ass as you rode him. “Christ, I can smell how wet you are,” he panted against your mouth before licking his way in. The zipper of his pants were close to drenched and the sounds were growing sloppy as your rubbed yourself against the bulge. The addition of his stubble scratching at your skin and his tongue claiming his territory inside your mouth was enough – too much. With no warning, a sharp pleasure shot from your core and into your legs and arms, but something primal left you unsatisfied.
Leon leaned back slightly, brows furrowed. “Did you just cum?”
You frowned and shook your head, testing the motion of your hips to try to figure out what was wrong. “Not enough.”
“Okay. That’s okay. Let me help you,” he whispered. He slid a hand into the leg opening of the boxers and you inhaled, sharp and fast, gripping the back of his tee in anticipation. Leon slid two fingers through your soaking folds, groaning low and deep in his chest. “Holy fuck.” You jerked your hips against his fingers which was the only further invitation he needed before he sunk both fingers into your pussy. You collapsed against him with a shuddering sigh. “You okay?” You nodded wordlessly, face buried in the crook of his neck as you began to rock your hips back and forth, listlessly at first, just basking in the feeling and knowledge of his fingers inside you, filling you.
And then he started moving them in you, rubbing those heated fingertips against your g-spot and you cried out, throwing your head back, mouth fallen open. Your breathing came in faster and harder, fingernails digging into his biceps.
“That’s it, gorgeous.” You could practically feel his voice travel across your skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake. “Show me what that pretty face looks like when you cum.”
And just like that, the cord that was holding you together snapped, and glittering bliss ripped through your body. A soundless cry fell from your lips as you gasped for air that did nothing to fulfill a need that Lean didn’t already take care of. Your walls clenched around his still-caressing fingers as your thighs squeezed Leon’s, toes curled. Your hips bucked and rolled with the waves that coursed up your stomach and chest, spiralled around your neck and whirled around your head.
Before the orgasm began to subside, Leon pulled his fingers out and a flash of incredulity battled with the waves of pleasure racking your body, but then there was a loud rip, and you looked down just in time to see your soaked boxers torn and absently tossed aside. The air whipped around your now exposed pussy, but the heat of your center was too strong to allow it to cool at all.
Leon slid his fingers over your apex, spreading your wetness around, eliciting a moan from both of you. Head just clear enough to navigate clothing again, you made quick work of Leon’s belt, then the button and his zipper. You plunged your hand into his boxer briefs and wrapped your fingers around his hot, hard shaft to pull it free of its confines. The strangled exclamation came second only to the one he made when you lifted your hips then lowered yourself onto his cock until he was completely, entirely buried in your silky warmth.
Your gripped fistfuls of his hair, forehead dropped against his as you acclimated to his size, walls aching beautifully. “Leon,” you said through a shuddering breath. “Fuck, you feel so good inside of me.”
A throaty growl rumbled in his chest. “I haven’t even started fucking you yet.”
“What are you waiting for? A written invitation?”
He choked out a strained laugh. “Funny, but no.” He inhaled deeply, eyes drifting closed. “I’m trying to hang on to my last thread of self-control.”
You lifted your hips and brought them down, wet sounds mixing with both your moans. “Does it sound like I need you to have self-control?” The words had barely left your mouth before you were flat on your back, shirt ripped open and sending buttons rebounding against the cupboard doors. Leon crowded over you with one hand cupping the back of your head, protecting it from the tile floor, the other arm hooking under one knee and pulling it up to your chest. You wrapped your free leg around his hips. The new angle allowed Leon to somehow seat himself even deeper inside you, the tip nudging your cervix.
His intense eyes pulled your undivided attention as he slowly dragged his hips back until the tip sat at your entrance. His hips snapped forward, knocking a breathy cry out of you and a grunt out of himself. He did it again. A long, slow, beautiful drag, a pause, and slam. Again, but the pause shortened to just a beat this time. His eyes did not falter. His hips slapped against the backs of your thighs, and your eyes rolled to the back of your head.
“Look at me,” he ordered. Snap! The corner of his mouth ticked up. “Does that feel good?” You nodded quickly. “Tell me.” Hips dragged back.
“It feels so fuck-” snap! “-ing good, Leon,” you cried, desperate for him to pick up the pace. “Please,” you begged.
“What do you need, gorgeous?” Snap!
“Just fucking fuck me!”
Leon immediately stopped his teasing and mercilessly slammed himself into you, over and over again. Wet slaps and moans echoed around the kitchen as you held onto his arms. Each thrust somehow felt like he was going deeper and deeper. You glanced down to watch his cock appear and disappear between your legs, shiny with your arousal. Leon followed your gaze, grunting with effort and pleasure.
“Look at your pretty pussy, taking me all in so good.”
The compliment went straight to your head in a dizzying way, and you clenched around him. Without warning he reposition himself to kneel behind your spread thighs, forcing your back into an extreme arc, you naked thighs rubbing against the fabric that still covered his. He looked pointedly at your exposed chest. “Touch yourself.” You immediately squeezed and massaged your breasts, pressing them together, sliding your palms so your nipples poked up between your fingers. He snapped his hips, your breasts bouncing from the force. He moaned, fingertips trailing from your thighs to your pubic mound. “Look.” He pulled his hips back and this time when he slowly pressed himself back in, you watched the bump appear under your skin.
“Fuck me,” you groaned, mesmerized as he picked up speed. It was one thing to feel him so completely deep within you – a heady, overpowering, amazing thing – but to see how your body was being stretched and pushed to accommodate him, to see him take up so much space inside you, had your head spinning.
Leon’s hands slid reverently to your hips, but his grip was pure control and ownership as he pulled and pushed your hips in tandem with his movements. You were completely at the mercy of his punishing pace and strength, and it only made you hotter. The sounds grew wetter and louder, and you were no longer aware of the whimpers and moans that tumbled mindlessly from your mouth. All you knew was Leon’s cock inside you, hot, hard, and impossibly deep, and his hands on you, fingertips burning imprints on your skin as he bounced you on him. The pressure began to build in your core, and you swore you could feel ever vein, every ridge of his cock drag against your overly sensitive walls.
“Oh fuck,” you gasped.
“Me too, baby. Tell me what you want.”
The coil wound. “Cum in me, Leon,” you barely managed. “I want to feel it. Please.”
With a grunt he leaned forward and grabbed your shoulders, pinning you in place and if you thought the pace before was punishing, you were mistaken. A messy, incoherent tangle of sounds mixed between you as he bottomed out in you with force again and again and again. This position had his cock dragging against your clit with every pass. The coil tightened.
“Leon,” you choked out.
“Cum on my cock. Milk me dry.”
The coil snapped.
You screamed, back arching violently off the ground and you were immediately rewarded with a deep, guttural string of broken moans in your ear as Leon’s cock pumped load after load at the deepest point of your pussy, your walls fluttering and squeezing around him. The heat from his deposit spread to your trembling limbs, and still, he had more to give you. You felt a thick rope of his cum slip through the seal of your stretched pussy around the base of his cock, down the underside of your bum, and drip onto the floor.
Leon collapsed on top of you, still seated firmly inside of you and still hard, but now sharing space with his load that continued to be pushed out of you. You shouldn’t have been able to breathe with so much of his body weight resting on you, but instead, it felt like you were able to take your first real breath since you inhaled that pink powder.
The heat that had been taking over your body and mind began to subside, replaced with a calm lethargy that was only laced with a slight charge. Your walls twitched and Leon shuddered and pulled his hips back to unsheathe himself, but you locked your ankles around his back end to keep him there. “Don’t move. Please. Feels so fucking good.”
He groaned in your ear. “God, you’re gonna make me cum again if you keep talking like that.”
“Well, I won’t say no, but I do think I am completely full already.”
“That’s only because my cock is still inside you.” He pushed himself up on a forearm, the other hand sliding up your thigh, over your hip, and then cupping a breast. “If you let me make some room, I think you can take another load or two before I need to start moving to other places.” He dragged his thumb across your lower lip before slipping it inside your mouth. You swirled your tongue around it before sucking it deeper at the same time as you pushed your hips up. “Christ, what the fuck was in that shit we inhaled?”
You shrugged, continuing to slowly roll against him, relishing in the absolutely lewd sounds of your and his cum squelching with your movements. All you cared about was that Leon didn’t currently seem hindered by the typical refractory period men experienced, which meant that he had another load of cum ready for you. You wondered how many times he would have to unload in or on you before the drug would need time to catch up.
“Clothes, please,” you said, tugging on his shoulder holster before taking his thumb back into your mouth.
“Shirt and I let you use me to get off one more time before we move to the bedroom.”
You pushed Leon off you but rolled with him so you stayed connected at your center, straddling him when you both settled into the new position. He took his thumb back and sat up, face inches from yours, to undo his holster and pull off his shirt, all of which you watched with rapt attention. His muscles were defined and swollen with use, skin flushed.
Leon slid his hand around the back of your neck and pulled you in for a slow, easy kiss, his tongue lazily sliding against yours. Your hands explored the expanse of newly revealed skin – his abs, chest, shoulders, arms, back. It was all perfect and satiating, and at the same time, never enough. He pushed your shirt off your shoulders and down your arms. You rolled your hips in languid circles as he cupped a breast, paying special attention to the hypersensitive and puffy nub.
“I can feel your cum inside of me,” you whispered against his lips. “It feels so fucking good, Leon. I want more. I want it all.” You reached behind you to cup and gently squeeze his sac, the source of your liquid gold. It was evidently the right thing to do and say because Leon was suddenly very much on the same page as you. Holding you tight against him, he picked you up and got to his feet. For the briefest moment, before you could protest, he slid out of you, but just long enough to lay you face down on the island counter. He yanked your ass back to him by the hips.
He scooped up some of his cum that dripped down your thighs with his cock and shoved it back inside your painfully empty and open pussy. Would you feel like this forever? Empty and wanting unless he filled you? Part of you hoped so. Another thick drop he wiped with a finger and leaned over you, offering it to your mouth. You lapped it with a moan, licking his fingers clean and only wanting more.
He grasped your hips and pulled you against him as he speared into you. Every time you felt a rope of his cum slip out of you, he fed it to you, sometimes neatly, almost politely, sometimes by pulling your hair slightly to hold your head back and wiping it on your lips or your chin, making you extend your tongue as far as you could to work for your treat. You preferred the latter.
“Good girl,” he groaned, watching you.
The familiar heat grew quickly in your lower belly as you were jostled backwards and forwards. Leon lifted one of your legs to the countertop, spreading you so deliciously wide open while filling you completely at the same time. You bounced your ass against him and his hand came down hard on your cheek. You cried out, the sharp pleasure sending a spike of electricity to your cunt.
“Christ, look at your messy little pussy. So fucking gorgeous.” He fed you another rogue rope of cum, but this time instead of returning to his stance, he slid his hands under your chest. Leon grabbed your breasts and pulled your torso up and toward him, arching your back. Pummelling into you, he bit down on the side of your neck with a growl and with that, you snapped. You let out a silent scream and milked his cock with your pussy, mindlessly fucking yourself on his cock. The pleasure racking every inch of your body, from fingertip to toe, was all consuming – until you felt what you really wanted. What you now lived for.
His cock pulsed inside you as he grunted and groaned, teeth still holding firm. You doubled your efforts and the speed of your hips as you fucked Leon, into oblivion, you hoped. He poured himself into you, and this time, the sensation of his warm seed dripping down both your thighs felt like a job well done, instead of a failure. You were being warmed from the inside out, and there was nothing else that mattered.
Leon carefully let you back down before he took a few stumbling steps backwards until he hit the opposite counter and sunk to the floor, breathing hard. You didn’t have the energy to move, so you laid there, splayed out and unabashedly on display, cum dripping out of your pussy and down your legs. You rested your cheek against the cool countertop.
“Was I too rough? I’m not usually…like that.”
You giggled quietly, and when you spoke, your words came out muffled against the counter. “I’m not usually like this, either.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
With great effort, you slid off the counter and onto the floor, facing Leon from the other side of the kitchen. Somewhere in a locked away corner of your mind, you were surprised at your extreme lack of modesty, but the thought was crushed before it could fully form. “No, you weren’t too rough. I liked it.” You liked everything about Leon.
“What do you need?”
“Skin.” The answer fell from your lips before you could even consider the question.
He immediately reached forward and grabbed your ankle. You let out a surprised yelp as he pulled you over to him until he could grab your waist and drag your limp body onto his lap, bare chest against bare chest. Leon kicked off his shoes and lifted his hips just enough to shirk off his pants and underwear before wrapping his arms around your back, holding you against him with splayed hands. You buried your face in the crook of his neck.
Your muscles went lax, as if Leon’s skin released oxytocin to be directly absorbed by your own. With a long exhale, you slid your hands around his lower back and pressed your thighs against his. He was solid and warm beneath you. Everything about him demanded that you bend and curve to his being. Even now, he was still half hard and occupying the space between your cheeks.
“Better?” he mumbled into your hair. You could only manage a small nod and a half-hearted hum, eyes drifting closed. “Good. Just rest.”
Time slipped away. You couldn’t tell whether you ever actually fell asleep, or if your mind was simply loosed to wander between reality and imagination at will. Through the wispy haze, however, you were never permitted to be unaware of Leon. His heart beating so strong and steady against your skin, you could almost hear it. The steady rise and fall of his chest. The drag of his fingertips leaving trails of fire along your skin. His breath fluttering in your hair.
You were anchored to him, but instead of feeling restricted, you felt safe beyond measure. Leon had consumed you, brought you into his body and soul, and he would protect you, even from yourself. You only needed to trust him. A weight fell from your shoulders and your mind drifted into peaceful waters, unburdened by the necessity of obligation the world demanded. You felt so sorry for everyone else who was not as lucky. For those who would never be able to give themselves wholly to another.
texts between re2! leon kennedy and high reader . . .
i always text random people when i’m high af and one time i texted this random guy on ig and sent him just random words and letters and he was hot as fuck😭😭 omg i still feel bad i hope he doesn’t hate me
thinking about re9! leon kennedy with an extremely gen z brain rotted partner . . . his birthday edition!
leon often used to forget his own birthday date because he’s was not used to celebrating it. he was always too busy, either because of missions or because for a certain period of his life he got way too drunk to even wake up during that day.
let’s just say, that changed when you came into his life. he went from awkwardly thanking anyone who wished him happy birthday to waking up and wondering right away how you’re gonna torture him in his special day.
this year, it starts extremely early. it’s only 7am when he wakes up, and you’re in front of him, holding a cake that from his point of view, looks like a normal cake. his eyes open and find yours, staring into his soul like you wanted to reach out and eat it.
“babe…?” he murmurs gravelly, rubbing one eye. your expression doesn’t shift, remaining uncannily firm and serious. “what’s going on?”
“it appears that today fifty years ago, you crawled your way out of your mother’s vagina. many humans celebrate this yearly occurrence,” stop. too many words for his still half asleep brain.
“what?” that’s literally all he can say, slowly sitting up, drowsy as hell and still seeing blurry from sleep. “what the hell did you just say?”
you step forward and extend the cake to hold it right into his face, though remaining careful to not let the flames on the candles touch his hair. it was a pretty cake from the side. was. because now that he can see the top, he can see a picture of your face stretched out comically, with a cursive text that read “blow me.”
leon can only sigh deeply, already exhausted and wanting to go back to sleep, and look up at you. “you know, people usually wait for the evening or at least after lunch before bringing the cake-“
“hush, white boy. blow me,” you firmly say. only now he notices that your accent has a thick british cadence to it.
leon’s mouth opens, then closes. he knows better than to question your antics and the names you call him. so he takes a deep breath in and then lets it out, blowing the candles. you look at him with a pleased expression, and put the candle away. “good job, white boy.”
leon rubs his face, fighting so hard to keep the smile off his face, because deep down he still loves you. even if you’re making him grow gray hair when he’s only fifty years old. “thank you, baby,” he sighs, and because he loves you so much, he leans forward and pecks your forehead. “what are the plans for the day?”
your expression softens slightly at his display of affection, but you know you can’t ruin this. so you stick to your weird and unnecessary firm behavior and pull out a fucking clipboard out of fucking nowhere.
“i made a schedule,” you announce.
“that’s great,” he comments. “read it to me.”
you flip the initial page and pick out a pen, crossing off the ‘blow candles’ that was written on top of it. then you tap thoughtfully on the second task.
“since you blew the candles, now i am going to blow you.”
“pause.” leon is horrified by how taken aback he is– he certainly wasn’t expecting that. “let’s- let’s just leave that for tonight, yeah?”
“we must stick to the schedule,” you press firmly.
“let’s ignore the schedule, alright baby? let’s just- uh, make this… normal,” he tentatively say.
you raise an eyebrow and out down the clipboard, eyeing him out suspiciously. “so your thoughts about me is that i’m not normal?”
leon sighs, rubbing his face again. “you’re… you’re perfect the way you are. but please, i only woke up and-“
“that’s right, white boy. say ‘please’ and keep begging for normalcy, white boy.”
“can you stop calling me white boy?”
“do you wish me to call you differently?” you ask. he just sits still, and in the back of his mind he knows that if you don’t call him that, something much worse could come out of your mouth.
“…whatever. call me whatever you please, sweetheart.”
“that sounds about right, white boy.”
he leans back against the headboard of the bed, crossing his arms and staring at you. you stare at him back. he raises an eyebrow. “so? what’s the rest of the schedule?”
“i will not continue until you let me blow you.”
“you are not going to suck my dick at 7am, baby.”
“release the kennedih to me, white boy. that’s an order.”
“shut the fuck up and let me go to sleep, and don’t wake me up until 10am,” he grunts, too tired for your antics, and slips back under the covers. “that’s an order.”
you wait for him to settle in, think that he’s finally safe under those blankets like you were the monster in the closet, and then slowly lay down behind him. your arm encircle his waist, and your lips find his ear.
“i’m gonna blow you, white b-“
“y/n.”
i lowkyyy want to write this with loki… just imagine his royal ass dealing with this kind of reader omg
sfw and nsfw (below the cut) headcanons for RE9 Leon as a yearner
this is my first time writing headcanons like this, so I'm just dipping my toes into the water. I hope I did him and our requester justice
based on this request
he taunts his brain with the thought of you, only to soon after chide himself when your image lingers too long and it threatens permanent residency
whether you're a coworker, too young for him by his own lofty standards, his neighbor, or just far too amazing of a person to deserve being stuck with someone like him, Leon prohibits himself from crossing any boundaries (no matter how eager you are to do so)
Yet, he's the first person to "accidentally" brush up against you while he races past you to open the door, to touch the small of your back as you navigate through a crowd, tuck your hair behind your ear
he finds any way to see your face, whether it's by being your own personal coffee-delivery boy, or the one to troubleshoot your computer
he's always struggling not to touch you, the desire so strong that, when he musters up enough courage not to reach out and wrap an arm around your shoulders, it looks as though he's teetering on the edge of internal combustion
his hands get fidgety and his upper body tenses, and he can't bring himself to meet your gaze or he knows for sure he wouldn't be able to resist
and when you two get together, finally, the floodgates are busted down like the doors of a medieval fortress and there's not a moment that goes by that he's not attempting to make contact, whether it's to sate his need for physical touch, or to make sure you're safe and still within arm's reach
he's left to his imagination when the night is too dark and lonely, and his bed is too empty
it starts off chaste enough by palming the growing erection that strains the weave of his sweatpants, and he owes himself that at least
you're the first person who has been able to rouse his dick from the dead after a few years of a sever in his body-mind connection, whether it came from old age or the decades of being thrown against walls like an al dente noodle
yet he still mumbles and incoherent strain of deprecating admonishments as shoves his pants down his thighs and takes his rock-hard dick in his palm
it's you he pictures stroking his length with the soft hand that always come up to touch his bicep whenever the two of you are conversing
your entire being is so tangible in his mind that he can quite literally smell the sweet scent of your perfume in his nostrils as he inhales a sharp breath
he prays that the walls are thick enough to drown out the sound of your name, violently loud on his tongue, as he approaches his peak
and it's your body he imagines wrapped around him as he finishes on what is, unfortunately, his own stomach
cant stop thinking of older!leon getting off and fantazing about you in the middle of the night but he feels so guilty about it
!!!!! : male masturbation , unspecified age gap , mdni
the dream had been so fucking vivid that when leon snapped awake, his breath rattled in his chest as if he’d just sprinted a mile in full tactical gear. his dark, quiet bedroom felt freezing against the heat radiating off his skin, the silence being suffocating in the middle of the night. for a brief second, he really thought he’d wake up to find you pinned beneath him on the mattress— , your pretty face flushed red, your soft lips parting around desperate moans as you took every single inch of his thick cock. in the dream, you weren't the fresh-faced, mouthy rookie who drove him up the wall at the office every single day. in the dream, you were his. you were writhing under him, whimpering his name, acting like the annoying brat you were until he fucked that needy, smart-mouthed attitude right out of you.
a ragged, bitter groan tore from leon's throat as reality slammed back into him. you weren't here. you were in your own apartment, miles away, completely oblivious to the filthy, inappropriate thoughts your supervisor was having about you.
"fuck..." he rasped, the sound rough and gravelly in the dark room.
he threw his right arm over his eyes, blinding himself to the ceiling while his lower body throbbed with a relentless, aching heat. he was hard as a rock, his cock straining painfully against the fabric of his cotton boxers. he tried to push the image of you away, tried to remind himself that he was your superior, that he was years older than you, that he was supposed to keep you safe and train you, not lie in his bed in the dead of night aching to bend you over his desk. but every time he closed his eyes, he saw your stubborn, glossy lips back-talking him, the way your eyes flashed when he corrected your form, and the way your cute little waist looked when you leaned over to check a file. you had gotten under his skin so easily, pushing every single one of his buttons until he was practically losing his mind.
unable to fight the throbbing ache between his legs any longer, leon's left hand drifted downward, his broad palm resting over his stomach before slipping beneath the waistband of his sweatpants and boxers.
his fingers wrapped around the base of his swollen shaft, a low grunt escaping his chest at the sudden, burning contrast of his warm skin. his grip was firm, instinctively heavy-handed as he began to slide his palm up to his broad tip, gathering the slick pre-cum bead at the head and smearing it down his length with long, agonizingly slow strokes. the memory of your voice in his dream—crying out his name, begging him to go faster—echoed in his ears, making his hips jerk upward into his own palm in a subtle, desperate motion.
"shit... fucking brat," he muttered under his breath, his jaw clenching so tight the muscle leaped under his skin. he hated himself for this. the guilt was a heavy, sickening knot in his stomach, telling him how wrong it was to touch himself to the thought of his rookie, but the sheer arousal coursing through his veins completely drowned out his discipline.
he stroked himself faster, the friction wet in the quiet room as his thumb rubbed rhythmic, firm circles right over his sensitive tip. he pictured grabbing you by those hips, pulling your soft body flush against his, and listening to you mewl helplessly as he dragged his cock over your soaking folds. he wanted to hear you whine, wanted to feel your tight, hot walls clenching around him until you were completely wrecked for him.
the thought pushed him right over the edge. leon’s breath hitched violently, his hips snapping upward as a dark, gravelly groan broke from his throat. his grip tightened, pumping his hand quickly over his shaft as his body locked up, his muscles straining against the mattress as he came hard, spurting several thick hot ropes of his arousal across his flat, toned stomach.
he lay there in the dark,chest heaving up and down, his hand slowly coming to stop around his sensitive, twitching cock. the slick warmth coating his skin was a stark, humiliating reminder of what he had just done. he pulled his hand out from his pants, letting it fall onto the mattress beside him as he stared up at the shadowed ceiling, the guilt settling back into his chest twice as heavy as before.
he had gotten himself off, but as his breathing slowly leveled out, the cold realization hit him like a punch to the gut. it wasn't enough. rubbing one out to a fantasy in the dark didn't fix a damn thing. what he actually needed—what was driving him fucking crazy—was the real thing. what he really needed is you.
Pairing: RE9!Leon Kennedy x isekai'd!fem!Reader (ft. Grace Ashcroft and Emily)
Summary: After being isekai'd into Resident Evil Requiem, you're forced to face many horrors with the man you've been shamelessly drooling over. But do the horrors stop you from thirsting over Leon? No, no, it does not.
Note: This is part 2 of Shameless! I highly recommend reading the first part before jumping into reading Shameless II. Sorry I had to delay posting for this week :') I had writer's block, and it took some time for me to figure out what I wanted to type. As I've said in the first part, it ain't a Genshinluvr fic if I don't write one fic that has an Isekai plot. I had a blast typing this fic out despite the writer's block and having to scrap a couple of the previous drafts :') Anyway! I don't post anywhere else but on Tumblr (Genshinluvr), and AO3 (Aaliah_exo)
Warning: Violence, mutated Emily (if that's a warning itself), a teeny tiny bit of hurt/comfort, you will probably get secondhand embarrassment from this fic.
Word Count: 9.8k
After getting thrown into the world that is Resident Evil Requiem, you're forced to face the horrors with Leon. You and Leon dealt with Timothy, the ravenous, mutated, chunky zombie, and loads of blister heads that were waiting for you and Leon to show up outside of Victor Gideon's office. When Leon pulled the lever that was hidden inside a painting, more zombies mutated into blister heads, much to your dismay.
Out of the things you and Leon dealt with today, the blister heads are probably the worst things to come across because they swing their arms wildly until they land a hit on someone. Leon has yet to be injured, thankfully. Although you wouldn't mind if he gets a teeny bit injured because, you know, he breathes heavily and groans when he's injured, and that's music to your ears.
"Are you alright?" Leon asks, putting you back on the ground after killing the last blister head zombie while waiting for the secret door to open. He steadies you when you sway on your feet, still lightheaded from clinging to him while upside down.
You give Leon two thumbs up, nodding. "I'm perfectly fine, Leon. After all, you're the one who's dealing with the horrors while I'm the one holding onto you for dear life."
There were instances where you nearly slid off of Leon while he was running around, decapitating blister heads with his hatchet. Not going to lie, you could've sworn that you were going to meet your maker if you fell off of Leon during that time. But Leon made sure you didn't slip or fall, and you're grateful for that.
Leon chuckles. "I'm not dealing with the horrors alone, you know? I have you here with me, by my side at all times."
Even though Leon can manage all of the horrors while having you over his shoulders, clinging for dear life, you can't help but feel guilty that you can't do much to give him some kind of assistance. He's not only saving the world and Grace, but he's also protecting you from harm, even though you're not from his universe. He's doing all of this protecting, but who is protecting him? Certainly not you, because you don't have a weapon, nor do you know how to properly handle a gun.
Noticing the look on your face, Leon gently nudges you and tilts your head up. "Hey, what's wrong?" He asks softly, eyebrows furrowing with worry.
You shake your head, giving him a small smile. "It's nothing, Leon. Don't worry about it."
Leon gives you an exasperated look. "You can't say that when we've been through a lot together already."
You press your lips into a thin line, debating if you should tell him. The door is still sliding open—very slowly. You look around the office, bodies scattered around, brain matter splattered on the walls, the smell of rotting flesh and blood wafting in the air. Leon continues staring at you, trying to read every expression you make, no matter how big or small the reactions are.
"If and when you're ever in trouble, please rely on me for help too. I will do everything I can to help you, even if I'm bad at aiming." You say.
Leon blinks, completely caught off guard by what you said. Of course, his shock didn't last long. Leon chuckles, nodding. "If and when the time comes, you have my trust to protect me when I need it. But for now, it's my obligation to protect you from harm."
The door eventually slides open, so you and Leon walk further inside the strange hidden hallway that leads to an elevator. You two enter the elevator, and Leon presses the button, watching the door slide closed. The elevator ends up taking you and Leon to another secret office.
Leon walks further into the office and starts speaking into his intercom, "Pretty sure we found Victor's private office."
You follow behind Leon, eyes scanning the room that was tucked away from the rest of the building. Why would Victor need an office hidden inside another office that requires you to take an elevator to reach it?
"Nice work. Lock it up." You hear the woman on the other side of Leon's intercom say.
"Yes, ma'am," Leon replies, approaching the computer and starts typing in random passwords.
While Leon is locking up the computer by inputting random passwords, you bite the inside of your cheek. God. It's the way Leon says it. That got you biting your bottom lip. If you were in your bedroom right now, you would've been giggling and twirling your hair after hearing those words leave Leon's lips. Leon eventually locks the computer, allowing the person on the other side of Leon's intercom to chime in.
"Bingo. I have the IP address. Just give me a minute, and… I'm in." The woman on the other side of Leon's intercom says.
"Okay, hit me," Leon says, his eyes locked on the monitor in front of him.
You walk to the window, glancing outside to see how big Rhodes Hill Chronic Care Center is. You squint, nearly pressing your face up against the window to get a better view, but the lights inside the room you're in are making it almost hard to see outside. After a while, you hear Leon sigh.
"Sherry, you're killing me."
You turn to look at Leon, who's still waiting for a response from Sherry. From where you're standing, you can't make out what she's saying to Leon. As she's speaking, images start appearing on the monitor in front of Leon. Leon sighs in defeat, his head hangs low.
"Well, fuck." Leon mutters.
Leon and Sherry sigh in defeat. Silence hangs in the air for a brief moment before Leon says, "Well, hey. At least we're in it together, right?"
You want to peek over at the monitor to get a look at what's causing Leon to have this reaction, but you stop yourself. You don't want to be invasive, and judging by his question, it's something he and Sherry are dealing with. You briefly look at the monitor, but you're not sure what you're looking at. The hands on the monitor have black blotches on them, and you're not sure what it is. But what you do know is that it looks exactly like the one on the hand of the deceased person at the beginning of Leon's segment of the game.
"I know what it looks like, but why can't I put my fingers on it?" You whisper to yourself, trying to rack through your brain. You know what it is, but you can't seem to remember the root cause of those black blotches. Your memory is foggy.
Leon leans closer to the monitor, muttering, "Alright. What've we got?"
More images start appearing on the monitor as you approach Leon, still trying to remember the conversation Leon had with Sherry over his intercom at the beginning of his segment in the game. You stare at the screen blankly, questioning why your memory feels off. Maybe it's from the lack of sleep that's making your memory fuzzy, right?
"Elpis?"
You blink and look over at Leon, then at the monitor. What is Elpis? At the bottom right of the monitor, Grace's photo suddenly appears. Leon's eyebrows furrow with confusion, as did yours.
"Grace? What's she got to do with this?"
On cue, you and Leon hear a helicopter outside the window. You and Leon trade looks before walking to the window to see what's happening outside. A helicopter spins out of control with numerous zombies clinging on for dear life, obscuring the view of whoever is inside the helicopter. The helicopter crashes into a building before ultimately landing on the ground, sliding towards the metal gate, forcing it to come to a complete stop.
Leon looks around and notices a nearby rifle. He walks towards the gun and grabs it, muttering under his breath, "Hello, gorgeous." Leon has you back away from the window before breaking the window with the butt of the gun, before looking into the scope.
You try to get a glimpse of what Leon's looking at, but whatever Leon is looking at, you can't see it at all. That is, until you see someone stumbling out from the helicopter—a blonde woman. She makes her way to the back of the helicopter and pulls out an unconscious blonde girl.
"Grace?" You whisper.
Flames erupt from where Grace and the little girl are, as zombies start pounding their fists against the metal gate, trying to get to where the two are. You look at Leon, unsure of what to do in this moment.
Leon sighs, "That girl just can't stay out of trouble."
Leon continues looking through the scope, shooting down the zombies pounding at the metal gate as Grace makes her way to a chapel with the little girl in her arms. After a few minutes, Leon looks at you. Before you know it, Leon grabs you by the waist and tosses you over his shoulders. You yelp and wrap your arms around his waist, vision spinning from the sudden movement.
"I hope you don't mind my manhandling you," Leon mutters. "We need to get moving."
You wave, knowing he doesn't see it. "You can manhandle me as many times as you like, Leon. In fact, I welcome it with open arms. Throw me around as many times as you need."
Leon chuckles before vaulting over the broken window. Your breath gets caught in your throat as Leon sprints across the rooftop of the care center. You cling to Leon for dear life, watching flames engulf the plane from which Grace and the little girl emerged.
The closer you and Leon get to the chapel, the more zombies start to appear from the woodwork. Leon puts you on the ground and starts shooting the zombies that are trying to lunge and attack Grace. You break the nearest wooden box, handing the rifle ammo to Leon while he reloads his weapon.
"Nothing ever dies here, huh." You grumble, watching the zombie closest to the chapel door come to life and stumble off the ground, trying to reach for Grace.
Before it can grab hold of Grace, Leon shoots it in the head, causing the head to explode and spray blood everywhere. You blink, glancing at Leon, who's busy shooting down other zombies that come into view. With a man like Leon around, you (among many other people) don't need to worry about a zombie attacking you.
"Never mind, it's dead. I spoke too soon."
Your comment earned a snort from Leon. You watch Grace break the doors down to the chapel, running into the building after Leon managed to kill every zombie in the surrounding area.
Leon puts away his gun and turns towards you. "Alright, we should head down towards the chapel."
"Right! How are we going to do that exactly?" You ask, searching for a way to get down from the second floor of the building.
"We slide down," Leon replies, as if it's the most obvious answer.
Leon slides one arm behind your knees and places his other arm across the middle of your back. He lifts you and presses you against his chest before hopping over the railing, sliding down from the rooftop before hopping off. You yelp, grabbing onto the front of his shirt with tight fists. Leon kicks the zombie, knocking it over before ultimately crushing its head with his feet.
"Excuse us," Leon mutters, walking to the chapel with you in his arms.
While making your way to the chapel, a few zombies got in the way, which resulted in Leon launching a red explosive canister at the two zombies with one arm while still carrying you with the other arm. The red explosive canister explodes upon impact, sending limbs and chunks of flesh and organs flying around.
You look at Leon, mouth agape as he shoots a zombie near the entrance of the chapel with one arm. "Carrying me with one arm while slaying zombies with the other? I think that's the hottest thing you've ever done since I arrived in your universe, Leon." You mutter.
"Oh, really? I thought you liked the manhandling. Or do you find it attractive when I was grunting while prying open numerous warped closets and doors? Or is it my biceps—"
You cover Leon's mouth. "Okay, okay, you don't need to list them all out, Leon. We can both agree that I find anything you do attractive." You huff, crossing your arms over your chest while heat rushes to your face.
At this point, you're not entirely sure if it's the fire that's making you feel all hot and bothered, or if it's Leon's awareness of you finding every single thing about him attractive? Then again, you make it known. Leon enters the chapel, puts you on the ground, and walks towards Grace and the unconscious little girl.
"Grace."
Grace looks up from the unconscious little girl. "Leon!" Grace says, a huge wave of relief falling over her. Grace makes eye contact with you for a brief moment before looking back at Leon, who kneels before the two of them.
"Who is she?"
Grace looks down at the girl, her hands covering the blood stain on the girl's white nightgown. "This is Emily. Help me! I-I can't stop the bleeding." Grace panics, feeling her sanity start slipping away with every passing minute.
"Hey, hey, look at me," Leon says, not taking his eyes off Grace. "We're gonna be okay. Yeah?" He reassures Grace.
You can't help but find the interaction between Grace and Leon sweet. To you, their dynamic reminds you of a father and daughter who were forced into an apocalyptic nightmare. However, this moment was ruined by the undead outside the chapel. You hear growling coming from the entrance of the chapel, causing the hairs on your arms to raise. You clear your throat awkwardly, rubbing the back of your neck when both Leon and Grace look in your direction.
You point to the entrance behind you, "I hate to break this moment, but there are a good number of zombies heading our way, and one of them is huge with blisters all over its body."
Leon looks around and notices a door next to the altar. "That should be the way to the water treatment plant. It's our way out."
Leon picks up Emily and gestures for you and Grace to follow. As you four make your way to the door closest to the altar, a zombie shouts through the window when it sees the four of you, startling you and Grace.
"They just don't give up," Leon mutters. "Take her." Leon hands Emily to Grace before turning towards the window and shooting the zombie three times.
Grace runs off with Emily in her arms after Leon instructs her to get Emily somewhere safe. Leon shoots down a zombie that entered the chapel through the door, watching it collapse before he walks over to you. Your heart falls into the pit of your stomach when a blistered zombie stumbles through the chapel's door, its blisters pulsing with every movement. Leon tosses you over his shoulders, takes his gun out of the holster, and starts aiming for the yellow blister.
"I'm curious, why didn't you make me go with Grace and Emily?" You ask, clinging to Leon as he aims for the pulsating blister.
Leon reloads his shotgun, running up to the altar and up the stairs as the blister-borne zombie starts charging at the two of you. You grunt, holding onto him tightly as Leon ascends the stairs.
"I figured you wouldn't want to leave my side even if going with Grace is the safest option," Leon replies, breaking the wooden boxes to pick up shotgun shells and handgun ammo. "Aside from that, I like having my sidekick around." Leon lightly pats your lower back.
The zombies in the chapel start mutating into blister heads; their agonizing screams are almost muffled by the sounds of the raging flames engulfing the chapel. You groan, going limp in Leon's arms. From a distance, Leon aims for the blister heads as they're stumbling around, searching for their target. Leon pulls the trigger, and their head explodes, sending blood all over the place.
While Leon is distracted by zombies that are mutating into blister heads, the blister-borne zombie starts making its way up the stairs to where you and Leon are camping out. Your eyes widen, and you pat the back of Leon's thighs, watching the blister-borne getting closer to where you're at.
"Leon, Leon! The blister-borne zombie is making its way to where we're at!" You shriek.
Leon turns and shoots the blister-borne's pulsing blister, causing it to burst and spray all over the place. You feel something splatter on your face, making you groan with disgust as you wipe your face with the back of your hand. Leon reaches for the red explosive canister nearby and chucks it at the blister-borne.
"You trust me, yeah?" Leon shouts over the sound of crackling flames.
"I do! I trust you with my life, Leon!" You shout back. "Why?"
"Hang on tight," Leon replies.
You tighten your arms around Leon's waist, and suddenly, you and Leon are airborne. You squeeze your eyes shut and brace yourself when you feel your stomach drop. Once Leon lands on the ground, Leon's shoulder digs into your stomach, knocking the air out of you. There's a huge explosion where the blister-borne was standing, causing the ceiling to collapse.
Leon quickly grabs the med injector and the hand grenade and puts them away on his person. This went on for the next five minutes with Leon dodging the blister head and blister-borne zombie, making sure you don't get hurt in the process. A zombie—the one that has yet to mutate into a blister head—nearby emerges with an axe in its hand. You try getting Leon's attention, but he's occupied with the blister-borne that he didn't hear you frantically calling out to him.
You don't want Leon to get hit by the axe, so you started searching around his body for a gun. He ignored it at first, but then your hands start getting a bit too close to his… area, so Leon has to look down to see what in the world you're up to. Listen, Leon is very aware that you're into him, but he didn't think you had the guts to explore his body while you're both fighting to survive.
"What are you—"
You cheer, "I got it!"
You successfully take Leon's spare gun out of the holster and start blasting away at the zombie with the red axe. The zombie jerks each time a bullet penetrates it before collapsing to the ground. You sigh in relief, relaxing over Leon's shoulders. Leon opens his mouth to say something, but the zombie that you killed starts contorting before its head mutates into a blister head. You stare at the blister head, mouth agape.
"I don't think this thing is powerful enough to take out a blister head." You mutter, checking to see how much ammo you have left in the handgun.
The blister head starts charging at you and Leon, arms swinging wildly. When it's close to where you and Leon are standing, Leon blasts its head off with his shotgun. The (now headless) blister head collapses to the ground in a pool of blood. You put the safety lock back on the handgun, trying to put the gun back into the holster.
Leon lightly pats your hand. "Hold that for now."
Leon doesn't want you to let your hands wander around his body when the blister-borne zombie is slowly coming out of shock. Not now, at least. Leon reloads his shotgun, stepping away from the altar and closer to the entrance of the chapel. The blister-borne roars with anger, charging at Leon while swinging its arms. Leon manages to dodge it, but its nails manage to scratch Leon's bicep, making him groan at the sharp pain.
"Hey! I was supposed to be the one to do that to Leon, not you!" You exclaim, taking the safety lock off the gun and aiming for the blister on its back.
You shoot, and the blister explodes, causing it to spray serum everywhere. The blister-borne zombie shrieks before collapsing. Leon looks around the building to make sure there aren't any zombies lingering nearby, and thankfully, the ones that Leon sees are all (hopefully) dead and headless. Leon puts you down, and you fix your clothes, putting the safety lock back on before handing the handgun back to Leon.
Leon props his hands on his hips, eyebrows raised. "What did you mean when you said that you were the one that's supposed to 'do that' to me? Are you implying you were supposed to be the one to injure me?"
You cross your arms over your chest with a huff. "Of course, not, Leon! What I meant was I was supposed to be the one to leave scratch marks on you, not the blister-borne zombie," You correct him. "Anyway, let's go find Grace and Emily."
You grab Leon's wrist and walk to where Grace and Emily escaped. Leon shakes his head, chuckling in disbelief as he lets you drag him to the door without complaint. You and Leon walk around, searching for the two blondes. As you're walking up the stairs, you come across a pile of melted goop. Your face pinches with disgust as you're walking around whatever that thing was supposed to be.
"They should be around here somewhere," Leon mutters.
You and Leon hear Grace screaming from a distance, and the two of you don't hesitate for a moment and run to where the screams are coming from. When you and Leon arrive on the scene, Grace is crawling back while a mutated creature swings its arms at her. Leon immediately starts firing at the creature, alerting Grace of your and Leon's presence.
Grace looks at Leon as he steps forward, eyes filled with tears and fear. "No! No, no, no, no, no, no, no! That's Emily! It's Emily!" Grace screams, grabs onto Leon's arm, and starts shaking him.
"I'm sorry," Leon mutters, not taking his eyes off the now mutated version of Emily.
Leon proceeds to shoot the grotesque version of Emily while she swings her arms, shrieking and screaming at Leon as bullets penetrate her body. Grace continues screaming at Leon, pleading for him to stop shooting the girl and to listen to her. Grace turns to you, tears running down her cheeks.
Grace grabs hold of your wrist, lightly shaking you. "Please, tell him to stop shooting Emily! He's not listening to me!"
"I don't think he'll listen to me either, but I'll give it a shot." You say, patting Grace's arm.
You walk to Leon, making sure you don't attract attention to yourself. You place your hand over Leon's massive biceps, gently shaking him (as if that would do anything). "Leon, listen to Grace. I don't think shooting Emily would do anything—"
For a second, Leon briefly stops shooting Emily. You didn't have time to sigh in relief when Emily lunges her arm at you, her sharp nails grazing your face. You yelp, feeling a sharp pain blooming at the bridge of your nose and the apples of your cheeks. Wait! Since when can you get injured? Is this the first time you've been injured since you arrived in this universe? Leon yanks you back before Emily can get her claws on you, continuing where he left off—shooting Emily.
Emily eventually falls to the ground, blood spewing from her wounds. Grace sobs, sprinting over to where Emily lies before falling to her knees, wrapping an arm over the mutated Emily's body.
Leon gently caresses your face, wiping the blood that's blooming from the cut on your nose and cheeks. "Are you alright?" Leon murmurs, pressing his gloved hand against the wound.
You nod. "I'm okay, Leon. I thought I was invincible to injuries—I don't know why I did—but apparently, I'm not." You wince when Leon tries to clean your cuts, grabbing his hand to stop him. "Leon, I'm okay! It's just a scratch."
"Well, I should've been the one to scratch you." Leon mumbles.
You do a double-take. "Whoa, hey! That's my job right there, mister. Unless you're implying back scratches."
Grace stares at you and Leon, appalled by how you and Leon can act so nonchalant after Leon shot and killed Emily a few seconds ago! At this point, the tears have dried up, and now she's looking at you and Leon (mainly Leon) with anger.
"I wanted to save her!" Grace shouts, grabbing Leon's attention.
Leon sighs, letting go of you and turning towards Grace's direction. "You don't understand, that's wh—"
"No! I never would have escaped without her. This is all my fault. Again!" Hot tears start rolling down her cheeks again, her chest heaving with each breath she takes.
Leon tries to comfort Grace, telling her that everyone involved is still alive (minus Emily, of course) and that everyone needs to keep going. Grace frowns, shaking her head before taking the requiem gun out and tossing it on the ground in front of Leon. Leon looks at Grace in disbelief, watching her walk away to who knows where. Leon kneels to pick up his gun, only to collapse and start coughing.
"Leon!" You gasp, running to his side. "Leon, are you okay?"
Leon coughs up blood, spitting out a glob of blood before wiping his mouth. You nearly spiral when you see Leon coughing and spitting up blood. Has Leon been hiding his illness from you this entire time? How long has he been sick? You wrap Leon's arms around your shoulders, helping him up from the ground. You and Leon eventually make it out of Rhodes Hill Chronic Care Center, walking to where Leon parked his Porsche.
Leon opens the door to the passenger side, but you refuse to get in. At least, not until you get your answer. You examine Leon's face, eyes picking up on the littlest details of his face as he stares at you, confused. Leon doesn't look any different from when you first met him.
"You promise that you can continue going after Grace even though you were coughing up blood?" You ask, crossing your arms over your chest.
Leon nods. "I promise. Besides, if something happens to me, you promise to protect me," Leon smiles at you.
Despite the reassurance, you can't help but shake off the feeling of dread. Sooner or later, Leon's condition is going to get worse, and his life will be in your hands. Before getting into the car, you step forward and wrap your arms around Leon's waist. Leon wraps his arms around your shoulders, squeezing you tightly against him.
"If I'm going to be protecting you, you're going to need to teach me how to shoot and handle a gun properly," You mumble against Leon's chest.
Leon's chest rumbles with laughter. God, you nearly melt in his arms. "Of course, I'll teach you when we arrive in Raccoon City."
You eventually get into the passenger side of the car, and Leon closes the door once you get in. Once Leon gets into the driver's seat, closes the door, and puts his seat belt on, he starts talking to Sherry in his intercom after starting his car and leaving the premises. You buckle in and lean in your seat, watching the scenery go by.
You pull down the sun visor and lift up the cover of the mirror, looking at your reflection. The cut on your nose and the apples of your cheeks still hurt, but the pain is dull. How strange. You trace over the scratches, wincing when the wound stings under your touch. You don't know why you assumed you're immune to injuries despite being thrown into this universe.
You have no one to talk to about this, and even if you talked to Leon, he's just as clueless as you are. It wouldn't be too bad if you're stuck here forever, right? It's nearly identical to your universe, but the only difference is zombies roaming in some parts of the world, and the (once) fictional characters from a franchise that you love exist. And your family isn't in this universe.
You and Leon soon arrive at Raccoon City; the car comes to a complete stop. The city is nothing but ruins, cars abandoned on the side of the road, collecting dust and rusting. You hesitantly unbuckle your seat belt, mentally preparing for what's waiting for you and Leon once you step out of the car.
Leon sighs, turning off the engine of his car and unbuckling his seat belt. "Well, the road is gone," Leon mutters, turning to you as he gets out of the car. "Gonna have to find another way around."
"Alright, I'll leave that to you two." Sherry's voice crackles from Leon's intercom.
You get out of the car, shielding your eyes when the wind blows dust in your direction. Leon looks at his phone, still talking to Sherry over his intercom. Leon thanks Sherry for giving him the coordinates on Victor's computer before ending the call between them. Leon tucks his phone into his pocket, gesturing for you to follow him.
"Are you going to manhandle me again when we're dealing with zombies again?" You tease Leon, walking beside him as he searches around the vicinity.
Leon snorts. "That depends on what situation we're in. Do you want me to manhandle you that badly?" Leon raises his eyebrows at you.
You hold your hands up. "Hey, you said that there's plenty of time for you to manhandle me, and so far, I can picture many scenarios in which manhandling is required."
"Fair point."
Leon walks ahead of you with his DSO-issued gun, the requiem gun, in hand. Leon reaches behind him, grabbing hold of your hand so you two won't get separated. At least, that's the literal reason. In your head, you assume he wants to hold hands with you because he fell in love with you and your wit, and you guys are going to be happily married by the end of all of this!
You can't help but look at the ginormous gun in Leon's hands. It's probably bigger than your hand and forearm combined! You know it's a powerful gun, you've used it when you played as Leon in the first part of Leon's segment in the game before Leon was kidnapped by Victor Gideon. Would Leon let you try out the government-issued gun?
"Alright, what's brewing in that head of yours?" Leon's voice pulls you out of your thoughts.
You point at his gun. "Can I try it?"
Leon blinks at you, then glances at his gun. "Yes, but I do want to warn you that it packs a punch, and if you don't handle it properly, you can fly back from the recoil."
You and Leon stop walking, now standing in the middle of the road close to a shipping container. Now standing behind you, Leon hands you the massive revolver. You know the gun is heavy, but it's heavy. You look at the gun in awe at its design and size. It's certainly bigger than your hand and forearm combined. You glance at Leon's arms, comparing the gun to his massive arms that you crave to have around your neck.
"You see that zombie over there?" Leon murmurs into your ears.
God, he's so close that you can feel his body heat radiating off of him. You clench your jaw, nodding. Leon corrects your stance and how you're holding Requiem. Whatever Leon is explaining to you, it went in one ear and out the other.
Leon has you tighten your hand on the grip of the revolver. You aim for the zombie slowly coming into view. Good thing it hasn't spotted you and Leon yet. You take a deep breath, waiting for the right time to shoot the zombie. Your heart drums against your chest, making it nearly impossible to focus because you're too busy being aware of how close you and Leon are.
"Ready when you are." Leon chuckles, waiting for you to fire the first shot at the zombie.
You press down on the trigger, finally firing the first shot after a while. Instead of hitting the zombie, like you hoped it would, the bullet ends up hitting the structure behind it. The zombie's head jerks toward your and Leon's direction, limping its way towards you two. Other than attracting attention to you and Leon, you're relieved that the barrel of the gun didn't fly back and whack you in the face from the recoil.
"You could use some practice, but it's alright. Any unfortunate beings here will be your target to practice on," Leon replies, smoothly taking Requiem from your hands and effortlessly shooting the zombies that were making their way towards you two. "Well, once we get to our location, of course."
You and Leon proceed to explore the area, picking up some scraps, ammo, shotgun shells, and med injectors. You and Leon soon come across a revolving door that leads to who knows where. Leon pushes on the door, his eyebrows furrowing.
"Dammit. It's jammed," Leon muttered, turning to you. "This might be a two-person job."
Leon gestures for you to get in front of him. You bite your bottom lip and stand in front of him, pressing both of your hands against the metal slab. You and Leon start pushing against it, trying to get the revolving door to budge. Unfortunately for Leon, the door is barely moving despite the amount of force he's putting into it. Fortunately for you, though, Leon's massive arms are caging you to the door, and you're just hearing him grunting into your ears while his biceps are flexing with each push.
"Are you even pushing?" Leon grunts, peeking down at you.
"Honestly? I'm not, but I'll put in the effort now." You reply, finally putting some force into your shove.
Leon laughs, shaking his head. "You're absolutely shameless."
The door finally moves, and you and Leon manage to get to the other side of the door. You dust your hands, looking around with wide eyes. The entire area, from what you're seeing, is covered in spiderwebs. Some cars are dangling in the air by huge amounts of spiderwebs.
"Oh hell no…" You trail off, suddenly having the urge to return to Leon's car. "I didn't know that Spider-Man was in town! Maybe we should go back to the car since Spider-Man, apparently, has this all under control."
Just as you're about to walk past Leon back to where you two originally came from, Leon grabs you by the shoulders and shakes his head. "Listen, he may have stopped by in town, but what makes you think he has everything under control? If anything, things seem to have gotten out of hand on his part." Leon gestures to the spiderwebs.
You pout, letting Leon guide you past the spiderwebs and to who knows where next. You end up stepping on something, causing it to snap underneath your shoes. You and Leon stop and look down at what made the noise (it was a skull), only to hear something strange echoing. It's deep rumbling, almost like a purr, mixed with hissing. Both of you slowly look up to see a building-sized spider climbing down from its hiding spot.
"Oh, holy shit."
"Oh, hell no!"
The spider tries to stomp down on you and Leon, but the two of you manage to jump out of the way. Leon pulls out his hatchet and hits the spider's leg with the blade of his hatchet. Dark green liquid squirts from the wound, making the spider pull away with a shriek.
Leon backs away, staring up at the spider. "Oh, fuck," Leon mutters before grabbing onto your forearm and pulling you into the nearest abandoned building as the giant spider chases after you two.
You and Leon watch the spider struggle to fit through the door, trying to reach for you and Leon. The concrete above the doorframe begins to crack and crumble before collapsing onto the spider, trapping you and Leon in the vacant building. The spider shrieks and disappears, but you have an awful feeling that it'll show up again very soon.
You squeeze Leon's hands. "I knew Spider-Man was in town, but I didn't know his mom was keeping him company!"
Leon sharpens his hatchet before putting it away, pulling Requiem out from his holster. Leon breaks the nearest wooden box and picks up shotgun shells before storing them away. The more you and Leon walk further into the building, the more you see spiderwebs blocking the halls. Leon slashes the spiderweb with his hatchet as the giant spider speeds by the entrance at the end of the hall.
"There's an exit!" You sigh in relief, hoping to leave before the spider can make another surprise appearance.
You're about to take off, but Leon holds you back. "I wouldn't be too confident about that right now."
As if you and Leon summoned her, the spider busts through the walls, sending debris all over the place while you and Leon take cover. The spider roars with anger before chasing after you and Leon, forcing the two of you to run back to where it all began. There are instances where you have come close to death before, and this is certainly one of them. The spider somehow tossed you and Leon against the wall, sending you to another room.
It chases you and Leon throughout the building, on multiple floors, for about fifteen minutes. But it did not feel like fifteen minutes at all. You and Leon have jumped and dodged the spider multiple times, threw two red explosive canisters at it. What did the spider do? She spurted out babies and had them attack you and Leon.
Leon makes sure to aim for the bulging eggs on the spider's abdomen, causing it to jiggle with every shot. You make a face every time it bounces, and can't help but feel uncomfortable by it. Eventually, the chase comes to an end, and Leon successfully kills the spider! Only after it grabs you and Leon with its freakishly long fangs, pinning both of you against the wall as Leon hacks it with a hatchet repeatedly until it dies.
The spider crashes onto the ground, forcing the cement floors to collapse underneath its weight and landing in an abandoned subway. You immediately hop off the spider, shuddering and rubbing your arms. You wouldn't say that you're deathly afraid of spiders, but after this encounter, you certainly hate them even more than you already do.
"I missed that Raccoon City hospitality," Leon mutters, getting off the spider and wrapping his arm over your shoulders. "Let's get out of here."
"You don't have to tell me twice." You grumble, wrapping both your arms around his waist and making your way through the dark subway.
Leon turns on his flashlight, searching for an exit while you're holding onto him. You two explored around a little bit, hoping that certain doors would lead somewhere, but they're either locked or blocked off. The subway smells disgusting, and the longer you're in the subway, the more it's harder for you to be able to handle the smell.
You and Leon eventually come across a revolving door, but it's jammed like the previous revolving door you dealt with. Thank goodness the subway is mostly pitch black because Leon won't see that shit-eating grin on your face. He hands you the flashlight and has you standing between him and the jammed revolving door.
"Do you want me to help push, or just hold the flashlight?" You ask, peeking up at Leon in the dark.
Leon grabs the metal bars, putting pressure on them. "Hold the flashlight for now. If I need help, I'll let you know."
You cheer internally, but on the outside, you're cool, calm, and collected. Leon starts pushing against the revolving door, trying to get it to budge. Leon grunts, his face pinching up as he tries to force his way through the door. In the process of trying to get the door to move, his chest is pressing up against your back, almost pinning you to the metal door.
"Need help?" You squeak, trying not to pass out.
"Nah, I'm fine. You just continue to hold onto the flashlight for me," Leon murmurs.
After what felt like an eternity—God, you wish it was that long—Leon manages to get the revolving door to move and get you two to the other side of the subway. You hand the flashlight back to Leon, needing to collect your thoughts and ignore the burning pit in your stomach. Leon gently nudges you towards the entrance up ahead, his hand on your lower back as he guides you in the darkness with his flashlight as a source of light.
The metal door that leads to (hopefully) the outside happens to be warped closed. You nearly cry out in happiness. Even though you and Leon have been through hell and back in Raccoon City, the desolate city just keeps on blessing you in so many ways. Leon whips out his hatchet and starts prying the metal doors open. His massive biceps flex under that tight shirt of his; he grunts and continues prying the door open with the hatchet until it busts open.
Leon pushes the door open and turns to you as daylight pours into the once pitch-black subway, only to see you staring at him with an unreadable expression. You're biting down on your finger, still in a daze. Leon tilts his head, walking up to you slowly, eyebrows raised. You blink, letting your hands fall to your sides as you try to act like you're not about to jump his bones if this continues.
Standing in front of you, barely leaving any space between you two, Leon presses his hand against your forehead. "Are you alright? You seem a bit… out of it."
You smile, nodding. "I'm fine, Leon! I'm just… trying to process everything that has happened since we've arrived at Raccoon City, that's all." You lie.
Leon stares at you, taking in every detail of your face despite the darkness. The longer Leon stares at you, the hotter your face becomes. God, you really want to bite his massive biceps, but now is not the right time to be yearning for those biceps of his. Eventually, Leon leads you out of the subway, his hands on your lower back. Your heart thumps against your chest to the point where you can feel it in your throat.
Once out of the subway, you and Leon walk towards the barricade. Leon stops in front of the barricade, eyes scanning the sight before him while you're looking around in awe. You never thought you'd be in Raccoon City, a fictional city in your universe, but here you are!
"Okay, Sherry. We've hit the barricade. Looks like someone else was here first, and they were planning on busting their way in." Leon looks away from the barricade, searching his surroundings. "Know a way around?"
Leon's intercom crackles, and you hear Sherry on the other end of the call. "The Army Corps of Engineers erected it to seal the city. It goes on for miles."
"Guess the only way in is through, then."
The call with Sherry ends there, and you and Leon get to searching around. You and Leon need to find a detonator to blow up this barricade. There are a few zombies here and there, but not near this base you and Leon come across. After searching around and getting fuel to power the camp, Leon finds out that the camp belongs to the BSAA.
As Leon collects items around the camp to add to his belongings, you lean against the table, looking at the maps and objectives in the camp. Leon enters the camp, speaking to Sherry on the intercom before approaching the laptop on the table and turning it on.
You watch Leon do his thing, completely mesmerized by what he can do with and without the help of Sherry. You start roaming around the camp, trying to take in as much information as you can because who knows when Leon will rely on your knowledge and memory? Speaking of memory, your memory is still a little bit fuzzy—not the memories of when you first arrived in this universe, but the memories before you were thrown into Leon's world.
"Alright, it looks like everything is settled for now. We need to find three detonator parts and assemble them if we want to make it past the barricade," Leon comments, pulling you out of your thoughts. "Are you ready to go?"
"Ready as I'll ever be. Do I get my own weapon, or am I holding onto you while you mow down these zombies?" You joke, walking to the garage with Leon.
Leon stops in front of you, holding his arms out and spinning around before stopping. "Pick a weapon of your choice, and choose wisely."
You walk around Leon, looking at every weapon that is decorating his body. Three handguns (Requiem included), hand grenades, a shotgun, and the infamous hatchet that is sitting prettily above Leon's ass. Leon watches you, amused over the fact that you're walking around him and looking at his weapons like you're window shopping.
You stop in front of Leon, tapping on your chin. "As much as I would love to choose Requiem, it's too powerful for an amateur like myself." You sigh, feigning disappointment.
"Hey, with enough practice, I'm sure you'll be able to use Requiem like a pro in no time."
You purse your lips, walking closer to Leon. "I have made my decision! I'll take these guns instead of Requiem." You say, wrapping your arms around Leon's massive biceps. "I heard they pack a punch almost as much as Requiem does."
Leon laughs. "Good choice; however, I believe you would much prefer this over your current choice of weapon." Leon hands you alligator snapper.
You inspect the gun, testing your grip on the gun. It doesn't feel too heavy on your hands like Requiem, and it's not bigger than your forearm and hand combined. Plus, you can put it away easily rather than it dangling awkwardly on your person like Requiem.
"Alright! Let's go kick some zombie asses and find those detonator parts, Leon!"
Leon presses the red button, and the garage slowly opens, only to be stuck halfway. You and Leon duck underneath the garage and start searching the rundown building. Leon adds another hand grenade to his growing collection while you pocket some of the items in the area in case Leon runs out of space. But since men have pockets that can fit a literal rocket launcher inside of them, you doubt that Leon will be running out of space any time soon.
Leon leads the way, walking ahead of you as he scans his surroundings. In his hand is Requiem, his beloved DSO-issued revolver, ready to blast any zombie that decides to pop out of nowhere like daisies. The first floor of the logistics warehouse is covered in dust, and as far as you know, there's nothing interesting that you need to take note of. Leon breaks the wooden boxes, obtaining handgun ammo (which he hands to you), walking further into the warehouse.
"Man, where are the zombies at?" You mumble.
By the grace of the universe, zombies start emerging from the ground like daisies. Leon looks at you, eyebrow raised. You shake your head, grabbing his hand and running back to where the two of you came from. As you're running back to the entrance of the warehouse, hordes of zombies are now wobbling and limping towards you and Leon.
"Wait a minute, a lot of these zombies have weapons!" You point at the zombie in the distance with a large, sharp object while the other is holding something that looks like it can take you out with a single hit.
Leon starts shooting the zombies with Requiem, blowing their heads off while you're aiming for the legs to immobilize them to give you time to reload and shoot other nearby zombies. Everything seems to be going smoothly until the one fucker with a gun appears out of nowhere and starts spraying bullets all over the place, forcing you and Leon to go into hiding to prevent getting hit by any stray bullets.
"You know, I did not know that zombies have Second Amendment rights—because, you know, they're dead—but I shouldn't be surprised at all because this is the United States of America." You grumble, burrowing yourself closer to Leon as the armed zombie starts making its way to where you and Leon are hiding.
Leon grabs a hand grenade and chucks it into the warehouse. A loud explosion follows not long after, and the sound of bullets spraying all over the place finally stops. You sigh in relief, peeking from your and Leon's hiding spot, making sure there aren't any zombies walking around. Little did you know, Leon also peeks from the corner above you, scanning the warehouse with scrutiny.
"Looks like we're safe for now," Leon mutters, nudging you to follow after him.
You sigh, following closely. "I don't know what's worse. Dealing with zombies that like throwing things, blister heads, or zombies that are armed." You mumble, reloading the alligator snapper.
"I'd say they're all bad, but unfortunately, since our journey has yet to come to an end, I'm sure there are things that will outrank the three you mentioned," Leon replies.
For the next thirty minutes, you and Leon proceed to explore the upper "floor" of the logistics warehouse. Zombies are, in fact, popping up like daisies and through the window, scaring the absolute shit out of you. One of them, which was carrying a projectile, swings the weapon at you, nearly taking you out. Leon grabs you by the back of your shirt and tosses you over his shoulder like a rag doll, and blasts the zombie's head off effortlessly, taking the other zombie with it.
You peek from Leon's shoulders. "I had it, you know?"
"I know you did. They appeared out of nowhere and caught you off guard." Leon pats your back before putting you back on the ground. "You're not hurt anywhere, are you?" Leon scans you from head to toe, making sure the blood stains on your clothes do not belong to you.
"I'm fine, Leon. But you'll need to give me a minute." You say, clutching your heart and taking deep breaths to calm your racing heart.
He gently rubs your back, looking around to see if there are any stragglers nearby. So far, there are zombies on the other side of the warehouse where you and Leon need to get to, but they don't seem to pose much of a threat (for now). Once you're done calming down, you gesture for Leon to proceed where you two left off.
Eventually, you and Leon got what you two were looking for and are now standing at the top of the logistics warehouse. Leon is looking through the binoculars, talking to Sherry over the intercom while you're peeking through the scope of Leon's rifle. A few zombies are wandering on the road near the camp, but there's a giant hole between the gas station and the camp, so they can't wander over even if they wanted to.
Leon turns around, looking at the building that's leaning over the overpass. You gently press down on the trigger, aiming for the zombies in the distance. Leon did say that there will be plenty of targets for you to practice on at Raccoon City, so you're doing that! You pull the trigger and watch the zombie fall to the ground, alerting the other zombie nearby.
You try shooting the other zombie, but miss a few times. Finally, after the fifth shot, the zombie's head explodes when the ammo penetrates its skull. Not bad! It's certainly not perfect, but you're doing great for someone who's not licensed! You lower the rifle and turn to Leon, only to see him watching you with an amused look on his face.
"Not bad, rookie. I'll give you some tips and tricks once we get to Cedarbrook Apartments." Leon gestures for you to follow him to the exterior elevator.
You hand Leon back the rifle, crossing your arms behind your back. "Rookie? Does that mean that you're officially my superior?" You get onto the elevator with Leon, watching him press the button.
"You can say that, yes."
You hum, watching the camp get closer. "Would it be unprofessional if a rookie… You know what? Never mind!" You press your lips into a thin line, waiting for the elevator to open.
"You can't start your sentence like that and then say never mind." Leon sighs. "Think about my feelings and how it makes me feel when you're about to say something unhinged, only to back off on it." Leon pokes your side.
You jolt and grab Leon's hand, glaring at him before he pinches your nose lightly. You swat his hand away, attempting to bite him. Leon covers your entire face with his hand once the elevator doors open. You stare at Leon through his fingers, contemplating whether you should do it. Leon raises his eyebrows at you, watching a thought brew in your head. He's wearing gloves, so it's not like he'll feel it anyway.
With his hand still over your face, Leon starts shaking your head around like how cat owners would. You burst out laughing, swatting his hands away from your face before fixing your disheveled hair. You two walk to the supply box in the BSAA camp, watching the screen light up. From there on, you leave the entire thing for Leon to deal with.
"What, you don't want to pick out a weapon of your choice?" Leon mutters, looking over his shoulder.
You shrug. "I think alligator snapper is great for now. Maybe as we progress in this area, before detonating the barricade, I'll pick something out. For now, you should upgrade your weapons. But definitely get more handgun ammo. I'm running low on them."
"Yes, ma'am." Leon murmurs, tapping away at the screen while you stare at him with your mouth agape.
You close your mouth and look at the entrance of the BSAA camp, trying to keep your composure. There's no way Leon just said that so casually. God, if only you and Leon could stay in Raccoon City a little longer after this. Lock you and Leon in a room, and you bet that you and Leon can repopulate Raccoon City in no time.
You lightly slap your forehead. "Am I ovulating or something? Why am I even more thirsty for Leon? Aside from the obvious…" You mutter to yourself.
Leon stops what he's doing and looks at you, eyebrows raised. "Did something happen?"
You turn to him, smiling at him innocently while shaking your head. You gesture for Leon to continue what he's doing, trying not to lose your mind. Leon continues what he's doing, and while he's occupied, you stare at his back, biting your lip. He's so huge. His shoulders are so broad, and his back… God, his back! You can see his back muscles through that tight shirt of his. The way he's leaning over the supply box, both hands on the edge of the box.
"You know I can feel you staring holes into the back of my head, right?" Leon asks, not looking away from the supply box.
You shrug. "Can you blame a lady? You're a sight for sore eyes, Mr. Kennedy." You lean on the table behind Leon, absolutely enamored by what you're seeing in front of you.
"Oh yeah? Are you liking what you're seeing?" Leon turns around, leaning against the supply box and crossing his arms over his chest, his biceps bulging.
You nod, biting your lips. "Oh, I'm loving it, Leon."
Leon pushes himself off the supply box, walking up to you like a predator would with their prey. Now, toe-to-toe, Leon stares down at you, caging you between his body and the table. This tension between you and Leon is so thick that you can almost physically feel it. The things you would do for Leon to wrap his arms around your neck and suffocate you.
"You're getting a bit distracted." Leon pokes your forehead.
You hum, grabbing his hand and lacing your fingers with his. "You're the distraction, actually."
Leon sighs, head tilting forward. "As much as I would like to address the elephant in the room, we have tasks to do," Leon mutters.
You pucker your lips. "If I rename myself 'Task,' would you do me?"
Leon laughs, shaking his head. "That's actually a good one, I gotta hand it to you."
You laugh, curtsying as you allow Leon to grab your wrist and walk you to Cedarbrook Apartments. While there's tension between you and Leon, you two continue exploring a newly unlocked area together like it was nothing. Of course, sometimes you and Leon would catch the other person staring at them, but it's not awkward. After obtaining more ammo for Requiem, you and Leon walk to the side entrance of the building.
You open the door cautiously, only to see that the building is rather dark inside. Leon walks in front of you, arm reaching behind to grab your hand and make sure you're close behind. Your heart drums against your chest the farther you enter the vacant building, eyes hardly adjusting to the darkness.
"You trust me, right?" Leon murmurs.
You squeeze his hand. "I trust you with my life, Leon."
"Good, I'm just making sure," Leon replies, gently squeezing your hand in return. "Cause I trust you with mine."
"Even if I can't aim for shit?" You rest your chin on Leon's back.
Leon laughs. "Yes, even if you can't aim, it's alright. I'll help you improve your aim."
Your heart does the weird thing again. It's fluttering against your chest, making your breath hitch. It doesn't feel unpleasant, but you certainly know that no one has ever made you feel this way before, until Leon Kennedy stepped into the picture. Even though your future remains unclear, you're going to cherish every moment you have with Leon.
Note: When I said that I had a blast typing this fic out, I am telling the truth LMAO. I was supposed to start on this fic the day after I went to Day 4 of Anime Expo, but my brain was on vacation, and it made it incredibly hard for me to focus on typing out this fic. I might take a short hiatus (maybe two weeks?) starting now, and hopefully I return with a new fic:) Anyway, to all my new and returning readers, please keep in mind that I ONLY post on my Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and my AO3 (Aaliah_exo)! Nowhere else except for Tumblr and AO3!
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Read more of my works on my Grand Masterlist, which contains every masterlist I have created! | Maybe support me by tipping me on Ko-Fi or by reblogging my fanfics! ^^ I will also be posting exclusive fanfics on Ko-Fi as well very soon! I might post all of my stories there, too, but who knows? You can also tip me on Tumblr if you'd like, as a way to show support! ^^
Join the Discord to get future fic updates and connect with other readers, maybe?:) Raccoon City Sanctuary
Leon’s hands have choked. They’ve stabbed. They’ve skinned. They’ve killed creatures you couldn’t conjure up in the deepest, darkest vaults of your imagination. And yet, they touch you with nothing less than tender, loving care.
His fingers swipe up and down your back, his nails catching all the right places, so feather-light it almost tickles. That’s where this little ritual got its name from.
“More tickles,” you whimper, shifting onto your front to give him a better angle.
It’s annoying as hell, the way you squeal and beg for his hands to scratch your back, your thighs, up and down the length of your arms, even your ties (?).
Five more minutes!
Yet it’s the thing he craves the most while he’s out on missions in the middle of who knows where, caked in dirt and blood and substances he doesn’t even want to give a name.
His hands constantly ache to touch your skin, almost as much as they ache when he does.
“My hands are tired,” he says, his nails retreating.
You glance over at him, puckering your lips into a pout. “Just until I fall asleep?”
His dark brows furrow. “That could be thirty minutes from now.”
“Okay, one more minute, then,” you negotiate. It’s not a question. Leon rolls his eyes, gesturing for you to lie back down.
You’re oh-so pretty, and he has the forethought to imagine what it’ll be like next week, when he’s been shipped out on another assignment, the tips of his fingers only knowing the cold, hard trigger of his gun, the stem of his blade. In that moment, he’ll be wishing he was right back here, in bed, touching you.
Tired hands, be damned.
“Fine.” He chuckles, relenting, brushing your hair from the nape of your neck. “Five more minutes.”
part four: nearly mauve on the gravel paths — you and leon catch a breather, but the violence of rhodes hill still looms.
pairings: re9 leon kennedy x reader | genre: hurt/comfort, fluff, angst | wc: 3.5k | warnings: canon-typical violence and gore | read on ao3 | fic masterlist
a/n: leon and sunny get to be a lil silly a lil goofy in this chapter, hooray :)
The rest of the attic was blessedly absent of any further bioengineered monsters, and another trap door led back to the habitable part of the clinic that was, for the time being, not overflowing with man-made horrors beyond your comprehension. Leon steadied you as you came down the ladder behind him into a beautiful office of dark wood and leather furniture, and you wished you could enjoy the mundanity of it without worrying something horrible was going to happen.
“Here,” he said, handing you his phone. “Sherry sent me the floor plan, and we need to try and find Gideon’s office.”
“Sherry?” you said lightly, zooming in on various points of the map to try and figure out where you were. “You’re trading floor plans with other women? I thought what we had was special.”
“Oh, it’s special, alright. You see me getting choked and tied up with any other ladies besides you, sunny?”
You blushed vividly, a completely inappropriate series of images flooding your imagination, but you couldn’t exactly be blamed when he’d worded it like that.
“You’re irritating, Mr. Kennedy. Do you know that?”
His crooked smile was just this side of a smirk. “I take that as a compliment.”
“Of course you do.” Turning your attention back to the map on his phone, you walked around a bit, trying to orient yourself. Leon followed you in your navigational wanderings with his handgun at the ready and a vague scowl on his face, clearing corners and hallways and any place a zombie might jump out of.
“This is the dining room, obviously,” you said to yourself, looking over the balcony railing to the lavish spread below. The crystal chandeliers and candelabras cast a warm glow on the long table holding a feast fit for a king, and it might have been tempting had it not been for the bodies strewn all over the floor. “Leon, you hungry?”
Frowning, he looked over the balcony to the strange mix of luxury and blood-soaked devastation on display.
“No thanks. Almost getting eaten tends to ruin my appetite.”
Strangely, despite the low undercurrent of nausea that seemed to be permanent fixture for you now, you couldn’t say the same.
“I’m starving,” you said with feeling. “You don’t have any super-spy granola bars tucked in that belt of yours, do you?”
He huffed a laugh. “Sorry. I’d have thought you’d be too sick to eat, especially after you lost your lunch earlier.”
“That was probably the most awful, gruesome thing any human being has ever seen,” you reminded him. You shuddered even now to think of it. “Just because you have nerves of steel doesn’t mean everyone does.”
“I’m only kidding with you, sunny. I agree, it was pretty gnarly.”
“But not gnarly enough to not make me want a midnight snack.”
He glanced at his watch. “You’re way past a midnight snack. Think closer to breakfast.”
“Oh, well, we should go get waffles then, when we’re done here.” You followed him to the end of the hall, getting an eyeful of his trim, athletic figure as he jimmied a closet door open with his hatchet. “Though you probably only have kale smoothies and a five mile run for breakfast, don’t you?”
“It’s ten miles, actually. But I hate kale.” He found a note and a box of shotgun shells. “I do like waffles, though.”
“Whole wheat?”
“Nope. Butter and syrup and whipped cream, the whole nine.”
You smiled. “I knew there was something normal about you, Mr. Kennedy.”
“My big secret,” he agreed dryly. “Did you figure out where we are on the map?”
You showed him and were pleased when he nodded.
“Good work. We need to get upstairs, which means... here.” He tapped the stairwell marked on the map, just down the hall and through the adjacent room marked as the lounge. “I don’t actually know if his office is up there, but it seems like a decent bet.”
Gideon’s office could really be anywhere in the thousands of square footage you’d seen on the map, but Leon had probably infiltrated enough secret bases and bioterrorist labs to have a good sense for these things, and you were happy to trust his judgement. However, you were quickly becoming aware of an urgent matter of a more... delicate nature, and though you hated to derail his mission for something so little, you figured you should bring it up while you had a bit of a breather.
“Um, Leon?”
He checked the hallway again, making sure it was clear. “Yeah, sunny.”
It wasn’t the easiest thing to ask the world’s best-looking government killing machine if you could find a bathroom before continuing on his mission to save the world, and despite the necessity of it, you were suddenly very shy to ask.
“I, um... ” You fussed with the buttons on your sweater. “Can we, before we try and find the office...”
He raised a brow, giving you his full attention then, which only made it more embarrassing.
“Can we what?”
Your voice was squeaky when you answered. “Can we... stop by the bathroom really quick?”
His expression relaxed then. “Oh. Sure. Where is it?”
You chewed on your bottom lip. “Downstairs. Sorry.”
“No problem.” He headed that way without complaint, the same direction you would have gone anyway until you went downstairs instead of up, and he glanced over at you as you meekly followed behind him.
“Don’t look so upset, sunny,” he said, a teasing note to his voice that made you feel more at ease. “Those of us who were made in a lab don’t have to worry about these kinds of things, as you know, but they did program me to be aware of basic human biology.”
You laughed a little. “That was good thinking on their part.”
“Yeah, well, it makes for a better PR campaign. It’s no sweat, really.”
He opened the door to the dining room, and the bodies you’d seen from the balcony above were strangely still, not really dead but not trying to eat you yet, either.
“It’s weird they’re playing possum like that,” he said, helping you take careful steps around them so if they did suddenly come to life, you wouldn’t be on the menu. “Gives me the heebie-jeebies.”
“You’d rather they be trying to kill you?”
“I’d rather kill them myself and make sure they’re dead,” he said plainly. “But no use borrowing trouble, so if they’ll play nice, I will too.”
In the hallway, from beyond the bathroom door, you heard the frantic growling of a zombie who was decidedly not playing nice. Leon kicked the door in - you thought that time maybe just for the fun of it, because it wasn’t locked - and took care of it with two quick shots to the head.
“Great accommodations they have around here,” he said. “Really makes you want to keep coming back for more.”
You’d decided that his dry humor was a bit of a trademark, and though it was an interesting choice in the face of overwhelming brutality, you guessed the saying was true that you had to laugh to keep from crying.
“You’ll just... stay right here?” you asked. “You won’t ditch me?”
He leaned against the wall by the bathroom door, as unhurried and casual as could be. “Nope. Not gonna ditch you.”
In the bathroom, skirting the prone figure on the floor, you quickly attended to matters and went to wash up. The mirror was cracked, but you could clearly see the evidence of the last few hours in your reflection - your hair was a mess, your face smudged with dust and blood and who knew what else, your clothes a Jackson Pollock painting of gore. You winced, feeling a further twinge of embarrassment that you’d been such a wreck the entire time while Leon was out there looking like a Greek god.
Combing your fingers through your hair and putting it back in a neat braid, you tried to scrub the worst of the blood and grime and whatever else off your face and hands. Your bandaged hand was a grisly sight, even under the gauze wrapping it had bled through, and you were careful not to get it wet. There was nothing you could do about the mottled bruises on your throat, though Leon had ones to match so you weren’t a total freak show in that regard, and you touched them gingerly and flinched at the pain even that light pressure brought.
Feeling better now that you were little cleaner, you came back out to the hallway and found Leon right where you’d left him.
“Well, don’t you shine up like a new penny,” he said pleasantly. He pushed off the wall and nodded across the hallway to a different door. “You game for a little treasure hunt?”
You gave him a suspicious smile. “I guess. What kind of treasure is there in a zombie-infested hospital?”
“One way to find out.” He handed you the note he’d found in the closet upstairs, and you read over it with doubtful wariness.
“So... you want to go find an undead cook and steal his pantry key. That’s your treasure.”
“Yeah.”
You gave the note back to him. “I get it. This is an enrichment thing for you. Like when you give a dog peanut butter in a rubber ball and make him work for it.”
The corner of his mouth quirked. “Where do you come up with this stuff, sunny?”
“It’s a natural talent.” You gestured widely to the door he’d indicated. “Lead on, good sir. Treasure awaits.”
He took you into the kitchen, and without even having to hunt on your treasure hunt, you found the gigantic cook who would have been impossible to miss. He wasn’t unnaturally huge, just a big guy in life and still that in undeath, and Leon motioned for you to stay low and quiet as he crept up behind him.
You executed your part of the mission perfectly, hiding behind the door of an industrial-grade fridge. Leon, on the other hand, made a career-ending mistake and brushed up against a frying pan precariously perched on the stove, sending it clattering to the floor.
“Well, shit.”
He raised his shotgun as the big guy swung around with a furious snarl, surprised for a moment by the cleaver in the cook’s hand that was almost as big as you.
“What the fuck are you cutting with that thing?” Leon growled. “Elephants?”
The cook’s only answer was a skull-rattling roar, and he charged full speed until he was knocked back by a chest full of buckshot. You winced and looked away, not taking any pleasure in the carnage even if it you’d become a little numb to it by now. It took several shotgun slugs to finish him off, but when it was over, Leon triumphantly held up the key he’d swiped from his pocket.
“Come on out, sunny,” he said. “Time to see what we got.”
Cautiously, you peeked out from behind the fridge door. “Are you sure he’d dead?”
He nudged him with the toe of his boot. “Yeah. Pretty sure.”
Coming over to his side, you grimaced at the meat cleaver still held in the cook’s death grip.
“Hey, that was really cool, what you did with the frying pan,” you said innocently. “Did they teach you that move in agent school?”
“Yes.” He picked you up by the waist and plunked you on the other side of the cook’s sprawled body. “And for your information, I got top marks in that course. Best in my class at knocking shit over.”
You laughed, finding it a little strange that he could draw it out of you so easily given the less-than-pleasant circumstances, but you were grateful for the lightness of it all the same.
“Here, sunny,” he said, handing you the key. “You do the honors, since you’re being such a good sport.”
The pantry was less of a treasure trove and more of... a pantry, but Leon cracked open another closet door and found a box of handgun ammo and something he didn’t quite know what to make of.
“It’s a... toy, I guess,” he said uncertainly, handing it to you.
“Aw, it’s a little tchotchke,” you said, running your thumb over the surface of the small plastic charm. It was shaped like a whiskey bottle, complete with a miniature label and cap.
He frowned. “What in the hell is that word you just said?”
“Tchotchke? It’s Yiddish. It’s like a knickknack.” You affixed its short chain to the barrel of his pistol, and he didn’t protest. “There. Now you have a good luck charm.”
He hummed in agreement. “Very generous of you, sunny.”
You smiled up at him. “So, what’s our next treasure hunt?”
“Gideon’s office,” he said, ushering you back out to the hall. “Don’t think we’ll be finding any knickknacks up there, though, Yiddish or otherwise.”
Making your way back upstairs, you didn’t stop at the landing for the second floor and went right up to the third. Leon dispatched a few wandering infected as you went, and when he pried open the carved double doors that barred your way, you sucked in a sharp, wincing breath.
“What a fuckin’ shame,” he said grimly, looking over the mutilated bodies littering the furniture, the blood on the walls, the chunks of flesh glistening on the floor. The cook had been all fun and games, you supposed, in his own macabre way - but this was a stark reminder of the reality that these were people, and Gideon had killed or infected every last one of them.
“Stick close,” Leon said, taking your hand and putting it to his belt himself. You were glad for the contact, stepping in his scarlet footprints to avoid the worst of it, trying not to look at the brutal display that marked every square inch of the place.
Through the next door into a former conference room, the butchery continued, and you forgot all about waffles and good luck charms and treasure hunts as your vision swam with the seemingly unending violence. The scent of blood and rot was overwhelming, clinging to everything in patina; though dulled earlier by your brief emotional respite, your wounds were starting to hurt again, badly, and you looked intently at the straps of Leon’s holster just to give yourself something to focus on as you made yourself take slow, measured breaths.
You did find an office off the conference room, thankfully as yet unmarred by pools of blood and greying bodies, but there were no computers, no files, no indication that it was actually used as Gideon’s personal workspace. Leon heaved a tired sigh, running a hand over his face as he leaned on the edge of the desk.
“Should we go look somewhere else?” you asked, willing to try different spots you’d seen on the map that might give up some of Gideon’s files.
“I guess,” he said, his voice flat. He reloaded his handgun, briefly touching his fingers to the charm you’d attached to it. “Let’s look at the map again and see what our options are.”
While he pulled out his phone and fiddled with the floorplan of the clinic, you looked absently around the office that was another sumptuous display of full bookshelves, fancy furniture, and copper sconces on dark wood walls. A painting on the wall behind the desk caught your eye, some abstract rendition of an upside down tree or a volcano in reverse, red webbing or roots branching downwards into a swath of black. What interested you was the way it didn’t quite fit in the frame, the top of it a few centimeters shy of the gold border.
“Surely not...” you said to yourself, thinking it was something you’d see in a spy movie and not in real life. But you were also trekking through a zombie-filled hospital with a government agent, so maybe real life was a bit more fantastical than you gave it credit for. Putting your fingers over the lip of the painting, you pulled it down and revealed a lever.
“No way.” You turned, excited. “Leon! Look what - ”
An awful, screeching cry came from the first room, and you watched in horror as the window into the lounge shattered around the vaulting body of some brand-new type of infected. Leon was on his feet and sending a bullet into its throbbing, blistered head before you could even think to react; yanking the lever down, you prayed it would lead to some secret passageway and not trigger some self-destruct mechanism that would get both of you killed.
Leon had his hands full with the five more infected that burst through the door, each of them snarling and wailing as they seemed to simply absorb the bullets he riddled them with. The lever did activate a door, but it was excruciatingly slow as it slid open; you could do nothing but watch as Leon kept them at bay with his shotgun long enough to get close and dig his hatchet into their swollen heads. Every time he did, their skulls exploded with a splash of blood and brain and wet strings of muscle, coating the walls and floor in a thick, syrupy film.
Finally, finally, the door jerked open and revealed a concrete hallway. Leon threw his hatchet with a frustrated roar, sticking it in the head of the last infected that staggered back with a gurgling shriek.
“Well,” he panted, putting his boot to the zombie’s back and wrenching his hatchet free with a ghastly sucking noise that made your stomach turn. “That’s my cardio for the week.”
You couldn’t respond, suddenly dizzy with pain and nausea, pressing your injured hand to your chest and squeezing your eyes shut against the onslaught of revolting, terrifying sensory input. Even if you didn’t die here, which seemed increasingly likely the longer you went on, you’d never be able to forget the clinging gore, the smell of acid and iron and disease, the sound of some pitiful, gruesome hunger that would never be satiated.
“Sunny?”
You flinched at his low voice, pressing back against the wall, covering your injured hand with the other.
“Don’t hurt me,” you whimpered foolishly, but it was the only thing you could think to say.
“I’m not gonna hurt you. Look at me.”
You did as he said, your eyes welling with tears as you bit the inside of your cheek. His expression was calm, steady, concerned as his gaze traveled over your face and finally met your eyes.
“Are you hurt?” he asked.
You shook your head. “I’m just... I don’t know.” A few tears spilled over, cutting a path through the spatters of blood it had taken no time at all to color your face again. “I’m sorry.”
“Nothing to apologize for, sunny. It’s alright.”
Your eyes flitted past him to the doorway. “I found a door.”
“I noticed. Good job.”
“It doesn’t feel like a good job,” you said miserably, running the back of your shaking fingers over your cheek, smudging the tears and blood on your skin. “It probably leads to some torture chamber filled with freaks who want to rip our throats out and throw us in a meat grinder.”
He huffed a laugh, but it wasn’t unkind or dismissive. “I’m not gonna let them throw you in a meat grinder, sunny.”
Your breath hitched. “I want - ” You stopped yourself just short of saying you wanted a hug, feeling a dull flush spread over your face. It had nothing to do with that silly, girlish notion of how handsome or charming he was - it was simply a strong desire for tenderness, warmth, the feel of something that didn’t want to hurt you. But your relationship with Leon was already way beyond the rulebook for normal human interaction, and you’d asked enough of him as it was just by being in his care.
“I want to go home,” you finished, your voice like a little girl’s. It was partly the truth, even if you didn’t know how you’d ever get over such a nightmarish experience even when you got there.
He breathed a sigh. “I know. I’m trying to get you there.”
“I didn’t mean it like that,” you said, feeling guilty that it had maybe come across as an accusation of failure or intentional withholding on his part. “I just meant that - ”
“It’s alright,” he said gently. “I know what you meant. I want to go home too.”
You gave a watery laugh. “No you don’t. You love this kind of thing.”
The corner of his mouth tipped up, rueful and wan. “I’m good at it, but I don’t love it.”
He touched a hand to your arm, offering a little bit of that warmth and tenderness you wanted so badly.
“If we can find a way to override the clinic’s security system, we can get you home,” he said. “I think it’s a good chance your secret door is gonna take us to Gideon’s office, and hopefully not a torture chamber. You want to find out?”
Gathering what scraps of courage and endurance you had left, you took a deep breath and nodded. “Okay.”
His smile was a little warmer then. “Good girl. Let’s go.”
"hold still!" you huffed, shifting around in leon's lap to find a different angle. "or i will turn you into a raccoon."
"i'm not even moving," leon's hands wriggled around your waist, a small smirk playing on his face. you cupped his face a bit firmer, tilting it to the side for better access. he grunted at the rough action, but his grin didn't falter.
"there," you mumbled, unscrewing the eyeliner clenched between your teeth. "seriously, do not move."
leon let out a small 'mhm' in acknowledgement, his fingers trailing up your back teasingly.
you ignored him, concentrated on the straight line you were drawing at the edge of his admittedly pretty eyes instead.
"don't do that."
"i'm focusing."
leon took a moment to notice how you were unknowingly holding your breath with each stroke of the pen. how your brows were furrowed in pursuit of perfection and your nostrils were slightly flared.
he'd pester for attention after, then.
"there!" you exclaimed a few moments later, pulling back to admire your handy work. "they look..close enough. like cousins i guess."
"first or fourth?"
you rolled your eyes, shifting to the side to grab a small mirror. "distant cousins. see?"
leon stared into his reflection–seriously, for a moment before cracking that signature grin again. "oh yeah, i see–ow!"
"you're impossible." you crossed your arms, frowning, as he rubbed the arm you'd lightly slapped.
"baby," he chuckled. "i'm only joking, come on. thank you so very much for making me so handsome, babe. even though i already am–" another light slap. "okay, okay. sorry. let me show my gratitude."
leon took the open eyeliner pen from your fingers before reaching for the cap still loosely held between your lips with his own. he pressed a soft kiss to your mouth as he took the cap, his grin growing as he felt you relax.
he pulled back, dropping the cap somewhere into his lap, as he held the pen out towards you, "let me repay the favor?"
you hummed, repositioning yourself closer to leon. he brought the pen towards your cheek as he gently stroked the pen against it.
"don't draw a dick on my face."
"no promises."
note: so sorry for such slow uploads, im on a family vacation and the wifi in most places isn't strong enough for my laptop or just won't connect!! i've been writing drafts in my notes so hopefully more posts coming soon! 😭
In which reader AKA "Wildcard" thinks they've figured out the whole damn mystery....and it all comes back to one thing. Updog.
Link to file one: here
The warehouse was quiet.
You and Leon moved through it shoulder to shoulder, flashlights sweeping over overturned equipment.
"There has to be something we're missing," you whispered.
Leon crouched beside a workbench, studying a scattered pile of documents.
"Maybe." He flips through them. "Think we're lucky enough to find meticulously kept notes?"
"Can't hurt to try."
You lean down and read over his shoulder. Your eyes squint. You pull one of the papers out of his hand and read through it quickly.
You gasped.
"Oh my God."
Leon looked up immediately. "What?"
You pointed to the lines on the page. "I think I know what this is."
Leon froze. His eyes narrowed as he searched the paper. "What do you see?"
"It's..." You look at him, horror-stricken. "...updog."
You stared at him.
He stared back, utterly sincere.
"Was this in the briefing?" he asked. Your lips twitched. "Wildcard, what's updog?"
You pressed a hand over your mouth. "No way."
"What?"
You doubled over, shoulders shaking.
Leon watched you laugh so hard you had to lean against a crate.
"Wildcard?" He sounded genuinely concerned now. "Was it a gas leak?"
You wheezed.
"No–" Another laugh escaped you. "Oh my God..."
Realization dawned on his face with agonizing slowness.
His eyes closed.
“What's. Up. Dog,” he breathed aloud, putting it all together. He holstered his pistol. Then his eyes opened. Found you.
"I'm requesting a new partner."
You wiped tears from your eyes, flicked the water off, and dropped the useless paper back on the floor.
"You say that every mission."
"One day, they're going to approve it."
"Well, until then..." You nudged his shoulder. "Keep looking, Boomer. Could be ligma.”
You peeked over at him.
He was already looking at you. His expression hadn't changed.
“No.”
You shrugged. “Had to try.”
A/N: I actually love this series and will be working on it for a little bit. Just the thought of "chronically online gen z" Wildcard and "Never had a social media account in his life" Boomer is soooo funny to me. What other kinds of situations do you guys want to see?
Pairings : boyfriend!re9!Leon x depressed/sad!reader
Genre/cw : comfort, hurt, fluff, emotional, mentions of trauma not detailed or anything
⋆.˚🦋༘⋆⋆.˚🦋༘⋆⋆.˚🦋༘⋆⋆.˚🦋༘⋆⋆.˚🦋༘⋆⋆.˚🦋༘⋆
another sharp pang tore through your chest as you lay on your back, one hand clamped tightly over your mouth in a desperate attempt to smother the sob threatening to escape your throat.
and despite your best efforts, a single tear slipped free, tracing silently down your temple before soaking into the pillow beneath you like rain disappearing into the ocean.
Fuck. Why couldn't you stop?
you hated this. hated how every breath scraped painfully through your lungs, how your chest felt too tight to breathe properly, as though grief itself had wrapped its hands around your ribs, smothering your senses. soon, as you were thinking it all, another tear followed.
Then another.
grief... but of what? It wasn't as though your life was lacking. God, no. You had everything you'd once wished for, perhaps even more than you had ever dared to dream of. So why was there still that hollow ache buried somewhere deep inside your chest?
That quiet, gaping void that seemed to grow a little wider with every passing night. Was it the past? The memories that refused to loosen their grip?
The words you'd swallowed when you should have told them to fuck off, or maybe it were those thoughts that had nestled themselves between your ribs, making a home there as though they belonged? You didn't know anymore. All you knew was that carrying it had become unbearably heavy.
And eventually, the dam you'd spent so long holding together gave way— not with a crack, nor a slow collapse, but all at once. It shattered. and with it... so did your heart.
you squeezed your eyes shut, trying with everything you had not to cry. Not now. Not with your boyfriend, Leon, sleeping so peacefully beside you, his steady breaths filling the quiet room.
You didn't want to wake him. You didn't want him to see you like this. More than anything, you didn't want him to be sad. You didn't want him carrying the same weight that had settled so heavily inside your chest, nor did you want him to become someone who blamed himself for a pain that had never been his to bear.
But still here you were, sobbing and silently breaking.
suddenly, the mattress dipped beside you. Christ... you tried to swallow your tears, but the lump in your throat only tightened, making it almost impossible to breathe. You wanted to move, to put as much distance between the two of you as possible, yet your body refused to obey.
then completely unaware and still half-asleep, Leon instinctively reached toward your side of the bed. His arm lazily draped around your waist, pulling you closer out of habit— only for him to freeze when he felt the unmistakable tremble running through your body.
his eyes fluttered open, only to land on your trembling figure, shit, he thought because the sight alone made something inside his chest crack. You were shaking so hard your shoulders quivered with every unsteady breath.
"Love...?" he called softly, panic creeping into his voice.
You hurriedly scrubbed at your tears with the back of your hand, forcing a smile that fell apart almost as soon as it formed, "m' okay," you whispered, but your voice betrayed you, trembling so badly the words barely made it past your lips.
...
This was the first time Leon had ever seen you like this. You had always been the strong one—the one who insisted you were fine even when you clearly weren't, the one who smiled through exhaustion and carried burdens that were never yours to bear.
But now...
The moment his eyes landed on you, something inside him dropped, his heart sank so violently it felt as though it had fallen straight into the pit of his stomach with a sickening, deafening plop.
No, he had felt fear before, he had watched partners die, he had lost people on missions, and he had stared death in the face more times than he cared to remember.
None of it compared to this.
Seeing you lying there, pale against the dark bedroom sheet, looking so heartbreakingly small beneath the room, as if all the weight of the world was on your shoulders.
It crushed something inside him.
It felt as though a wrecking ball had swung straight through his chest, reducing his heart to splinters before he could even take another breath.
His mind refused to give any more instructions to his body, it felt as if paralysis has struck him. Then questions appeared slowly inside his chest.
Why didn't I notice?
How long have you been carrying all of this alone?
Why didn't you trust me enough to tell me?
The questions struck one after another, each one more merciless than the last, until they became unbearable.
For one endless second, Leon laid frozen beside you unable to make his body obey him, as you clutched his arms and let out another tearful sob.
...
Then instinct finally won, soon Leon pushed himself up without another word and gently turned your face towards him, "hey, no you are not." His voice was low and impossibly soft. "Look at me." he crooned.
You couldn't, and fresh tears blurred your vision as another sob escaped your lips, your shoulders trembling so violently it became impossible to stop. It was embarrassing. Humiliating, even. But what hurt far more was seeing him like this— his eyes filled with worry, his hands trembling ever so slightly as though he was terrified you might shatter right in front of him. The sight alone made your heart ache. "I'm sorry," you whispered brokenly, your voice wavering between uneven breaths.
"Don't say that, there is nothing to apologize for."
You tried to pull away from him, shifting your weight uneasily, unable to meet his eyes. Your gaze fell somewhere between the sheets and the space beside him as you swallowed hard. "...I don't know what's wrong with me," you whispered.
"there is nothing wrong with you", he breathed his voice dropping an octave, and you realized his voice carried the same pain as yours, and before you could retreat any further into yourself, Leon wrapped both arms around you and carefully pulled you against his chest. "I am not letting you go, you hear me?"
You could not form a reply instead you melted into him almost instantly, your tears soaked through his T-shirt as your fingers clutched weakly at the fabric, as though letting go would send you drifting somewhere neither of you could reach, and he simply held you, one hand rubbed slow, soothing circles across your back while the other rested gently against your hair. "Shh, my love, I am here", then he pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head, "I've got you."
"I can't stop..." you whispered brokenly as another tear fell down, and you let out a low guttural sound of your own heart breaking: while the lump lodged that sat inside your throat only swelled further, growing heavier with every shaky breath until it felt as though it would split you apart from the inside out, because everything you'd spent so long burying— every hurt, every fear, every unspoken word pressed relentlessly against your chest, threatening to burst free all at once.
"Let it all out, i will be here holding you through everything."
God... you were so grateful.
Grateful that he was yours.
Grateful that you were allowed to hold him through every broken piece of himself, just as he held yours. Grateful that, out of everyone in the world, he was Leon— your Leon, and you never realized how desperately you'd needed this, or so much of your life, love had been tangled with hurt. home had never truly felt like home, and you had endured more toxicity than tenderness, teaching yourself to survive instead of simply exist.
and yet... now finally, you were curled safely against his chest, crying until your heart had nothing left to give, and somehow feeling more peaceful than you ever had before. It was as though every ache you'd carried for years had finally found somewhere safe to rest, and a shaky laugh escaped you through your tears. "I... I don't even know why I'm crying."
Leon only held you a little tighter, his hands slowly tracing your spine, while grounding every emotion in you, "You don't have to know, its okay, my love" he didnt give you a chance to speak, instead he spoke first, and his voice never wavered as he sighed shakily. "You don't have to explain it to me, unless you want to."
Then his voice softened even further, barely above a whisper. "Remember..." He gently brushed a strand of hair away from your face. "It's okay to feel whatever you're feeling. You're not too much. You never were." His thumb traced slow circles over your hand, that rested on his chest, "You don't have to bottle everything up anymore. You don't have to carry every burden alone, or convince yourself that no one will stay." His gaze never left, from your frame, as he cradled you against his chest, and it was unwavering and full of quiet certainty. "you have me. until the day I die." He swallowed thickly before continuing, his voice trembling with raw honesty, and he never knew that it was possible not until you, "And I'm not going anywhere, even if you tried to push me away..." A faint, bittersweet smile tugged at his lips. "...I'd sooner bury my own soul than ever let you face this world alone again."
it took a moment for your heart to truly process what he'd said. The tears gradually eased, no longer falling in desperate waves, and the violent pounding in your chest slowly softened until your heartbeat found its way back to a steadier rhythm.
"I will always be here." he quietly reassured you.
"and as long as you are here I will be okay." You replied, shakily.
he doesnt say anything, just hums something incoherent while, his heartbeat remained steady beneath your cheek, grounding you each time, and for a long while, neither of you spoke, and Leon? he didnt tell you to calm down, he just simply stayed quietly beneath you, exactly where he was, letting you fall apart in the safest place you knew, and eventually, your breathing as well... began to slow.
finally, your grip on his t-shirt loosened, and even then, he didn't let go. If anything, his arms tightened around you as he gently pulled you higher until you were lying against him, your body resting atop his.
A small, exhausted sound escaped your lips, but you made no effort to move away. Instead, you simply stayed there, holding him just as tightly as he held you. Your chest rested against his, and in the quiet that followed, you could feel it—the steady drumming of his heart beneath your cheek, matching the frantic rhythm of your own, beating together in the stillness.
"Promise me, something?" he murmured, brushing another kiss into your hair, his words vibrated against your body, making you shudder just slightly.
"Wh...what?"
"That whatever, happens, you will tell me, you won't think you are alone."
You let out a small, shaky, "Yes," before leaning closer and pressing a soft kiss against his chest, right over the cotton of his T-shirt, leon's breath caught for the briefest moment. His hand slid gently into your hair as he runs his fingers through them, "There's my sweet girl." you sighed in bliss.
and for the first time that night.. the weight on your chest loosened, though it didn't disappear entirely, but it no longer felt like you were carrying it alone.
also a part of you knew you never had to explain another thing, because Leon understood you, just as you understood him.
It had always been that way.
It always would be, forever— until death did you part, and perhaps... even then, the two of you would crawl through hell itself for one more chance to find your way back to each other.
“Oh sorry,” you say unbothered by his intrusion, tugging at the fabric belonging to the RPD t-shirt that hangs on your body like the mast of a ship. “I didn’t bring any pajamas with me so I snagged this. Is that okay?”
Leon clears his throat, eyes falling to your bare thighs, not daring to look any higher, definitely not at the flesh of your ass hanging out from it. “Yeah, yeah, that’s fine.”
It wasn’t as though he was going to make you return to your flooded apartment and grab your own clothes. What kind of friend would he be if he did? Maybe one that doesn’t get flustered at the sight of you wearing his clothes, maybe?
“Thanks.” You return the toothbrush–his toothbrush–to your mouth, foamy, white paste gathering at the corners.
“Brought this for you,” he says, placing a brand new toothbrush, still in its plastic sarcophagus, on the ledge of the sink. “But you can use mine. That’s totally fine too. Whatever you want.”
He’s rambling, his cheeks turning a rosy shade of pink, humiliation singed on his face as your eyes fall to his pants.
“Got a little problem there, Leon?” You say, bending at the waist to gather water from the faucet into your mouth, rinsing and spitting into the sink. He looks down to see a tent forming between his legs.
He should find you some pajama pants before this problem gets any bigger.
RE9 Leon (explicit)
“I’m sorry,” you say, cheeks aflame, noticing the way Leon’s eyes grow as wide as the full moon once he sees you in the t-shirt. “I didn't want to put my blouse back on, and found this in your closet.”
“Take it off,” he groans, chest heaving with labored breaths, gaze shooting daggers at the fabric draped over your figure.
Maybe it’s the words on the front that are so offensive to him. RPD? Or the fact that you rifled through his things, uninvited.
“I’m not wearing anything–”
He repeats the command, not giving you a moment to respond before he’s stepping toward you, taking it off your back himself. Discarding the shirt onto the floor, his hands find your breasts, kneading and squeezing, fingers pinching your nipples, hardened by the attack and the air conditioning billowing from the vent above.
“Fuck, you’re so gorgeous,” he moans under his breath, taking your lips into a desperate, slobbering kiss. He rolls your bottom lip between his teeth, sucking and pulling the flesh until it throbs. When he pulls back, there’s a hunger in his eyes that both exhilarates and frightens you. “Let me eat your pussy again before you leave?”
Your one-night stand is slowly turning into one-night-and-a-morning.
Summary: You text Leon about your covid test. He completely misunderstands what the test is for.
The front door closing and the rustle of grocery bags wakes you up from your sick induced sleep on the couch.
“Leon,” you call your voice hoarse.
Leon appears in the doorway, grocery bag in hand, “Sorry, didn't mean to wake you up,” he mumbles, walking over and setting the bag down on the coffee table.
“It's fine,” you mumble, sitting up on the couch.
“I brought medicine, Ginger ale, and that ice cream you like.”
“Did you remember the cat food?” Leon's shoulders tense up, and he sighs, “No, I didn't.”
~~
First smau kinda nervous, but shout out to a tiktok comment that said Leon would use the thumbs up emoji 👍 that's what inspired this along with some recent covid tests.
(one day, I'm gonna remember to put the taglist in BEFORE I publish)
“Are you sure you want to do this?” He asks into your mouth, mid-kiss, although he can read your mind. Perhaps he’s reading your body language instead, the way your shoulders tense, your lungs expanding to full volume, how your fingers tremble as you unbutton his shirt. But none of those physical manifestations of anxiety can eclipse the pure, unadulterated need in your stomach, far beyond the innocent flutters of butterfly wings at first blush. This feeling–the flame across your cheeks, the throb between your legs–it’s something utterly sinful. There’s nothing sweet about it.
“I’m sure, Leon,” you say, the words carried from your throat on the back of a hitched breath. How unconvincing.
Then, to make things worse, you pull back. Why did you pull back?
“Everything alright?” He asks, already high off the taste of your mouth, forcing himself from his euphoria to check in with you, though there’s nothing he wants more in this moment than to rip the cloth from your body and ravish everything that was beneath it.
You swallow hard, a nest of fear and guilt caught in your throat, scratching the gummy sides of your esophagus on the way down. “Don’t freak out, okay?”
Leon can’t help but let his eyes go wide. His mind travels to dark places in the beat of silence between you. “What is it?”
Maybe you don’t tell him. You still have time. Act coy and coquettish, write your hesitation off as flirtation when he asks why you pulled away. Still, looking into his eyes, all large and fawn-like, and filled to the brim with such care you’d be an ass to keep anything from someone so understanding and willing to listen, especially something as important as this. He deserves to know, like he deserves to have all of you.
“I’ve never done this before. Ever.”
His brows furrow. “What?” Then, as if you can see the cogs turning through a window in his forehead, you watch him put the pieces together, nodding at his conclusion. “Sex?”
“Mhm.” You cut your eyes, unable to meet his. “Sorry.” The apology quickly slips from your lips, a formality you’ve taken upon yourself more than bending under the pressure. It’s not as though you’re embarrassed or ashamed, but it seems like something to say at the moment.
“Hey, look at me. No need to apologize,” he promises, crooking a finger under your chin to direct your gaze back to him.
“I haven’t scared you off?”
“Honey,” he says with a laugh as if you just told him the sky is green. “It takes a lot more than that to scare me.” And you know he’s not lying. “But–”
“You don’t want it?”
The tension in his brows melts, and he tilts his head as though personally offended by your assumption. “That’s not true, and you know it.” He grabs your face in his hands, dipping his chin to give you a sweet peck on the forehead. “I just want to make sure it’s something you want. Is it?”
You nod against his lips, then he pulls away, a smirk at the corner of his mouth.
“Can I hear you answer in that pretty voice of yours?”
“Yes. Yes, Leon, I want it.”
He smiles with a little bit of tooth. “Good.”
“Deep breath. Come on, deep breath.”
You inhale, pushing your lungs to their full capacity, savoring the scent of Leon’s skin: musk and clove, black pepper, and that specific smell attached to men who don’t try too hard to smell good but it seems to be embedded in their DNA.
“That’s it. One more time. Just relax.”
Another inhale. This time, you feel your hips melt a little further into the mattress, your head dizzying as though you took a hit of a joint or sipped on a glass of wine. A good, deep breath is a drug in and of its own.
“There you go,” he coos, pumping himself in his fist. You try not to look, already intimidated by the sheer size of him. Not too thick but, boy, is he long. And pretty. With a pink head, already weeping with a bead of anticipation, and a few sprawling veins that crawl up and down the length. “Don’t be scared. It’s okay. I’m here.”
He could make you kill a man if he asked you in that voice.
From above, his eyes are affixed to yours as he awaits your signal. “You ready?”
You nod. “Yes. Please.” Parting your legs just a bit more to accommodate the width of his hips between them, you allow the head to glide up and down your pussy, waiting teasingly at your seam.
He chuckles lightly at your plea, manually lining himself up with your hole, already sopping wet from the work of his tongue. Then, he enters you. One inch at a time until he’s half-way there, another promise. The stretch is something you could never imagine on your own without experiencing it once or twice. It burns. Like that time when you were a kid and fell off your bike, knees scratched and gouged. And it stings.
You hiss through gritted teeth, immediately regretting it once Leon’s hips stop moving, and he’s caught, half-way inside.
“Shit,” he curses under his breath, looking down at you. Strands of icy blonde hair hang down like curtains, the tips tickling your forehead. “You okay?”
Biting down on your lower lip, you nod. “Yes, keep going.”
He doesn’t. One hand comes to cup your cheek, the other smoothing your hair down the side of your head, his weight still resting on his elbows, dug into the mattress top. “If you want to stop, just tell me, okay?” He would really hate that, though. You’re so tight around him, squeezing his cock to the point he’s unsure if it’d let him go. “Promise?”
“Promise.”
Leon plunges the fullness of his length inside you, causing you to cry out like a wounded animal on the forest floor, or a future piece of roadkill on the side of the highway.
“You’re doing such a good job. Keep breathing for me. Just relax.”
He goes slow at first, warming you up, waiting for the signals that your pain has melted into pleasure. Once he hears your cries turn into gasping moans, he picks up the pace, hips slapping against your pelvic bone, the sloppy, wet sound like a cheer from the sidelines of a race.
“That’s it,” he coos in your ear, his hot breath tickling your neck. “You’re taking me so good.” The praise is punctuated by a whimper of his own. “Doin’ so good for me, baby.”
You dig your fingernails into the meat of his shoulders, tethering yourself to him, sure the movement could saw you into the mattress if you didn’t hold on to something. His chest begins to beat against yours, his heart thumping through his pec, the beat matching the rhythm of his thrusts
“You feel me stretching you? That feels good, huh?”
Not sure what to say, worried you’ll make a joke or something just as stupid, you nod quietly, drinking in the sounds of his pleasure, each moan and yelp from him adding to your own. It does feel good. Not quite the screaming, crying type of ‘feels good’, the kind of euphoric pleasure he inflicts on you when he eats you out, but it has the potential to be.
He tries so hard to elongate the act–it’s your first time after all. That’s the least he could do.
But that all too familiar tension grows in his abdomen, the muscles there contracting and releasing at an erratic pace, and his cock begins to throb as he continues plowing into your pussy. Your pretty, wet pussy–fuck–he’s gone.
Not even two whole minutes and he’s already finishing inside you, seizing and thrashing as he releases his pleasure. For a man who wasn’t, at all, inexperienced, one would think it was his first time.
