[bonnibuckets]

21! bonnie she/her. masterlist. 18+ blog MDNI. DARK CONTENT!! I ALSO POST SFW || multi fandom. dividers by ( @muruffin ) blank/ageless blogs = blocked :3 daily clicks!!

do NOT hit my line (DNI) if you’re underage, racist, or homophobic!!

will write— age gaps (legal ones obv), cnc, somnophilia, kidnapping

will NOT write— aged up characters FOR THE SAKE OF SMUT, UNDERAGE SEX, foot fetish, bestiality, scat, piss kink, raceplay

︶꒦꒷ ꕥ ꒷꒦︶

[bonnibuckets]

i rlly want to rewrite all my avatar fics bc they’re so booty butt but that would take forever 😭

[bonnibuckets]

jake sully teaching na’vi reader human manners bc they being bratty and it ends up with them bent over his thighs me thinks…

[lilithkleia]

home is where the whore is.

2 months, 4 days, 5 hours.

that’s exactly how long it’d been since you’d left sukuna. and it was driving him up a wall. from getting your name tattooed on his chest minutes before he went on live television to box, begging on his knees until you finally let him in your apartment.

he had no shame, and of course, without you, ryomen sukuna had nothing to lose.

you’d finally relented—letting him into your apartment, which was now bare, stripped of his existence in the months he’d been gone.

“feels a little empty, no?” he says, walking up behind you, placing his head on your shoulder with a pout on his lips while staring you down.

“what do you want, sukuna.”

“you're so mean to me. cmon, doll throw me a bone here.”

“you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” you grimaced, walking away from him while he insisted on following you around your own place like a lost puppy.

you seated yourself on your couch, hoping the cushions would swallow you whole before he stood right before you, slowly dropping to his knees, resting his chin on your knees—trying to make all six feet of him look like a harmless, soggy dog.

“speak. what do you want this time?”

“can’t a man miss his ex?”

“not you, no.” you spat out all the while sukuna placed soft kisses on your legs, slowly pushing your plush thighs apart, trying to get closer to your cunt, his lips inching towards your core—right before you grabbed his hair.

“if you displease me i’m kicking you out, watch it.”

“you’ve had me pleading between your legs enough times to know that i won’t disappoint.”

“then get to it.”

“yes ma’am—.” is all he got out before you let go of his hair, grabbing at your thighs while he was kneeled over, pressing kisses to your clothed cunt, licking a loong stripe on your panties while he looked up at you through his lashes.

he tugged your panties to the side, practically making out with your poor pussy now, groaning into you as if you were the first meal he’d had in months—he was filthy, his drool and your slick pooling down his chin while he worked his mouth on you, sucking on your clit, while you slowly rolled your head back and moaned.

“mmmpfh—missed you sooo much. missed the way you tasted fuck.”

your hands found their way to grip his hair again, tugging at it while he whimpered at the pressure like the slut he was—his hips were rutting against your couch, his cock painfully hard and leaking through his stupid sweats, but you couldn’t find it in you to care or pay attention while he was whimpering like a pornstar against your soaked cunt.

“fuuuuck—kuna keeping going—.”

you arched your back slowly, knots in your stomach while you could feel your own orgasm rush over you, cumming all over sukuna’s pretty face, still tugging at his hair while he refused to move away from your cunt, his lips still latched onto your clit as if he’d die without it.

you finally pried his head away, his face wet, his eyes completely glazed over, almost like he was entranced. by your pussy. (which was likely).

“did you finally have your fill, slut?”

“you know that talking to me like that makes me want you even more, right?”

you laughed a little, slowly petting his head before staring down at his pants. and the cum staining it. he’d cum in his pants after eating you out. what a fucking loser.

“aww you came in your pants?” you cooed.

“shut it, brat.” you grunted, trying to shy away from your gaze while you looked at him like you’d eat him whole.

and a part of you couldn’t deny that in all this time, your apartment finally felt like home. with sukuna and his cum stained pants, and your thighs coated in slick, all the while he continued to stare at you as if you hung the stars in the sky.

anywaysss. @yoonsucks @yorikae @sugusplaything

dividers: @/pixopix .

all works belong to @lilithkleia, do NOT copy, translate or feed to AI. lest you wish upon toji’s worm to crawl up your ass.

[bonnibuckets]

i like this very much..

[bonnibuckets]

perhaps i am writing a Jareth x reader fic…perhaps it’s at 2k words already…just maybe… 

[sweets3rial]

Camgirl Fantasies !

Kinktober Oct 6 !

re2!leon x camgirl!reader

summary: he's a lonely man and finds warm comfort in the girl on his computer screen. the girl with pretty pink lips and sweet sugary moans. 

tags: camgirl reader, virtual/phone sex, mutual masturbation, smut, some fluff, leon is pathetic, depictions of lingerie, rough sex, gentle sex, creampie, etc.

word count: 5.2K

be sure to check out my kinktober masterlist to see what's coming up in the future ;D!

‘you look beautiful as always,’

“thank you, Scott,” she chuckled, drawing circles on her bare thigh. Scott sat up in his chair, straightening his back, and his fingertips hovered over his keyboard. he gulped a lump down his throat as he began typing. thousands of people flooded in, sending her dozens of compliments and gifts.

she was trying to read out and thank every single one of them which is why he typed out:

‘i love your necklace :), it suits you,’ in a hurry, hoping it would capture her attention.

she was too busy replying to other comments they were all comments about her gorgeous body, breasts clad in a lacy black bra, and her cunt hidden away with matching panties. Scott watched her carefully as she adjusted her position in front of the camera, curling her hair around her finger and smiling brightly at the camera.

“oh my necklace,” she giggled, reaching up for the necklace hanging between her breasts. it was a simple red pendant and it went exceptionally well with the red tint on her lips and cheeks. “thank you, Scott, you’re such a sweetheart,” she cooed.

he’s been addicted to her…addicted to you. he was lonely, pathetically so. he’s been so busy with work and unbelievably pent up. starting a new job is never easy, everyone loves fresh meat, and they love chewing fresh meat to the bone.

coming home from a stressful day at work, his muscles were taut, and he was frustrated with his coworkers, with his boss, and with the stupid speeders on the highway who could read him like a book — taking off as soon as they find out, he’s just a naive rookie.

he’s jealous of his coworkers who are married or engaged; they have a partner to return home to. a partner who can rub their sore shoulders and kiss their lips to welcome them home. what welcomes him home is an eery silence and the creaking of his ceiling fan.

but he wasn’t lonely anymore. he found you. after a long day at work, he needed some way to relax, some way to get rid of all this pent-up frustration and anger. what’s better than a quick cum? or so he thought.

whilst scrolling through a random porn site, he found himself even more frustrated trying to find the right video to watch. everything looked so fake; the pleasure, the passion, the moans, the bodies … it was all just so fake.

and before he could give up, he found you.

this specific website was advertising the website they created specifically for cam girls, or women who go live, pleasing themselves, pleasing the men watching them with solely their voice, or just sitting there looking pretty for the camera.

you captured his attention instantly. every night you went live, you’d have on a pretty set of lingerie and then sit on the edge of your bed. you never showed your face, only your lips and you’d tease your audience, playing with the hem of your panties tauntingly, toying with the straps of your bra — always so nervous to touch yourself on camera, and that only added to the experience.

he was one of the few viewers who sent kind gifts and messages that warmed your heart. he enjoyed seeing your face light up when his message would be read aloud to you and the way you’d read out his username with a small laugh.

he was slowly starting to become your favorite viewer. it’s like he saw you as a person rather than just entertainment for his hard dick. though, you were pretty sure he was just another creep wanting praise and compliments from you.

he was probably a balding old man with a wife and kids like most of the men in your chatroom. but is it still wrong that you look forward to his small compliments and cute smiley faces? streaming was easy money. actually. men are easy. they don’t need to see a nude body and a pretty face to get off, just a woman’s existence could get them off.

which is why it was so easy to make money dressing prettily and playing with yourself for the camera.

Scott was one of your biggest donors, and there have been times when he’s been the only one in the chat sending you messages. he’d ask you about your day or compliment your new set of lingerie and how the color looked good on your skin.

he once took notice of the jazz in the background. even though he isn’t much of a jazz fan himself, he still acted like it solely for your attention. now, every time he hears jazz, it reminds him of you. the image of your plump lips and curvy body flashes into his mind and he finds himself thinking, ‘i can’t wait to get home.’

it’s pathetic, really. he’s found a comforting company in a random woman who was probably miles or even states away. he’s tried going on dates with other women, trying to cure his loneliness but something inside of him can’t deny that there was something between you and him — an unspoken relationship. he was your delusional fan and you were his idol.

he hasn’t missed a single one of your streams. most viewers would get bored of you and stop tuning in, but not him. he was the sweetest, always saying hello, always wishing you goodnight, and thanking you for the entertainment you provided. you would be lying if his messages didn’t make you blush a little.

so after a few weeks or so, you sent him a private message.

‘hi Scott, you’ve been tuning in for a while, and i wanted to thank you. if it doesn’t bother you, why don’t we call? just you and me, one on one. XOXO’

it shocked him when you messaged him privately. asking if he’d like to meet you on a private call, just you and him, no one else. he almost dropped his phone upon receiving the message. he knew it couldn’t be real, that this was some scam and someone was using your name to out him.

but here you are. your hair was tied up, showing off your neck and shoulders. you wore a set of white lingerie. lace trimming and sheer fabric. he could see that you were nervous, too, idly playing with the bow on your panties or your earlobe. a cute habit that you had.

“hi,” you smiled at him, straightening your posture. he did the same, sitting up straight with his sweaty palms rubbing at his joggers.

“hi,” he smiled back.

“i just want to say thank you, i mean for supporting me,” you shrugged, nervously playing with the small bow on your white panties.

“of course! i mean, it’s the least i can do,” fuck. he was so hard it was starting to hurt. his abdomen was burning, and he felt lightheaded, all his blood was rushing to his jumping cock. you were a stranger but in his own twisted fantasy, you knew each other on a much deeper level.

that you were his partner waiting at home. welcoming him home with sweet words and kisses, massaging his shoulders while praising him for how hard he worked today.

“i’m glad that i finally get to talk to you…one-on-one,” you smiled prettily, placing your hands on your knees and leaning forward. this new position gave him a view of your plump breasts. his eyes shot from your lips to your buxom and then back up to your lips.

“yeah,” he replied with a shaky breath.

“Scott, right?” you asked, tilting your head to the side.

“no, no, that’s an alias,” he admitted with a breathy chuckle.

“oh okay,” you hummed, “if you don’t mind me asking, what’s your real name?”

he gulped down a lump in his throat, bouncing his leg nervously, “it’s Leon,”

you leaned back, “Leon,” you said in almost a whisper as if you were letting the name sink into your memory. Leon was the name of the faceless man who’s been making your heart skip a beat. it’s silly really, receiving gifts and kind words from a man you didn’t even know would make you so excited to stream.

“what do you look like, Leon?” Leon had his camera off, too nervous to turn it on. what if you aren’t attracted to him? what if he isn’t your type?

“what do you think i look like?” he answered your question with a question. his nerves somewhat subsided, who knew you were so easy to talk to? and who knew you were so curious about him? here he thought it was a simple thank you call, but you care to know what his name is and what he looks like.

he would be lying if that didn’t excite him a little.

you brought your finger up to your chin, thinking to yourself for a moment.

“brown hair, green eyes or brown eyes, and a handsome smile,”

he chuckled deeply, “so close yet so far,”

“damn,” you said with a click of your tongue.

“why is that your type? brown hair, green eyes, and a handsome smile,”

you shrugged, leaning back a little from the camera and crossing your legs over one another, “i don’t particularly have a type but i do like handsome smiles, but let me guess again, are you a balding forty-year-old man with a big mean wife and spoiled teenage kids?” you rambled out.

“ha! god no!” he exclaimed, a low laugh reverberating from low in his chest. funny too?

“then why don’t you show me?”

his heart stopped. his blood ran cold, and his breath hitched. “what?”

“why don’t you show me what you look like?”

you must’ve noticed his silence and hesitation because you followed up your question with,

“if you show your face, i will too. i’ll show you everything, Leon. so please, let me see your face, i want to see you,” you were practically begging, a small whine in your voice only amplifying your desperate need.

he sucked in a shaky breath, carding his fingers through his blonde hair a few times before nodding his head, “okay, but don’t be too disappointed,”

he reached forward, moving his mouse toward the small camera icon. then with a simple click, his face was revealed. the camera took a second to adjust to the lighting in his room before finally focusing on his face.

your lips dropped agape as his face popped up onto your screen. you were very wrong. he wasn’t a lonely old man with brown hair and green eyes. he was a young blond man with gorgeous blue eyes, plump lips, and the cutest chin she’d ever seen.

he looks like he was straight out of a movie, one of those teenage romcoms. he had a certain boy charm to him. his shoulders were wide, and you could see the outline of his muscles through the simple grey t-shirt he had on. he was nervously playing with the strings of his joggers and he was hiding his face. cute.

“you aren’t saying anything,” he laughed nervously.

“Leon,” you finally have a face to the name. you reached up for your camera, adjusting it upwards so it showed your face and not just your lips. Leon watched curiously as you sat back down on your bed and fuck he wasn’t disappointed.

the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. doe eyes staring back at him, long lashes fluttering, and a light blush on your cheeks. your cheeks rounded as your lips lifted into a smile. you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, “now look who’s quiet,”

it makes sense that your beautiful voice matched your face. he was so special. being the first one, out of so many men who watched you, to see your face and to hear your voice say his name. you chose him.

“i’m sorry, you’re just breathtaking,” he replied, still leering at you but not in a creepy way. rather, in a way where he was taking every feature of your face into intricate detail.

“i could say the same for you, Leon. if i’m being honest, i thought you were another sweet-talking forty-year-old man,”

he laughed at your comment, “is that so?”

you nodded your head, tilting your head to the side again, “at least i was right about one thing,”

“and what was that?” he hummed curiously.

“you have a handsome smile,”

fuck, he needed you so bad. your chemistry was undeniable, and the tension in the air was thick. he wanted to kiss you so badly, suck off the pink gloss on your lips until they bruised. he wanted to taste the sweetness of your skin, run his fingers over your curves, and sink his fingers into the plump skin of your thighs. he wanted to touch you and whisper sweet nothings into your ear.

your eyes followed his every movement like a curious cat. “tell me what you want, Leon,” your tone of voice switched, thick and lustrous. he adjusted his hips, licking over the dry skin of his lips.

“you,” he admitted.

“what of me?”

“everything,” he said in a breathless plea, “i need to see you, to hear you, to touch you,”

you nodded, reaching up for the strap of your bra, and slowly, you dragged it down your shoulder and then proceeded to do the same with the other. Leon palmed at his throbbing cock through his joggers, watching your movements with blown-out pupils.

“what do you want to do to me, Leon?” each time his name slipped past your lips, it was like a rush of serotonin through his veins. a warmth that numbs every one of his senses and blurs the world around him, right now it’s just you and him.

“i want to kiss you,” he heaved, “i want to kiss you slowly,”

“mhmm,” you hummed, reaching for the hook of your bra at the front.

“oh fuck,” he moaned to himself, watching as your bra dropped into your lap. the prettiest breasts he’s ever seen, nipples pebbled by the cold air, and smooth skin glistening in the light from your lamp. you reached up, taking one into the palm of your hand, and gave it a small squeeze.

“tell me more,” heat rushed through you, and directly to your swollen clit, you clenched your thighs together wanting some relief. his voice was like music to your ears, slowly putting you into a trance. you could feel each small groan he let out, it vibrated in your chest and shook your core. you closed your eyes as you imagined his weight on top of her, and he was whispering into your ears.

“i’d undress you slowly, kissing the new areas of skin revealed to me,” he reached into his boxers, gripping the base of his cock with a small grunt. he gripped the arm of his chair, watching as you leaned away, throwing your head back as you continued to fondle your breasts and pinch at your nipples.

“i’d make my way down your navel and take off your pretty panties slowly,”

“mhmm,” he was such a pretty talker. he was the type of man to make a woman swoon. he knew what to say and what to do. he’s a dangerous and charming man, and you’re a liar because you have a type: dangerous and charming men.

he began to slowly stroke the length of his cock, the heartbeat in his chest matching the pulsating of his dick. he watched intently as your fingers moved down your navel, you was matching the actions in his words. your eyes were still shut as you imagined it all playing out in your head and god you could feel it. you could feel him.

“but i won’t touch you,” his words vibrated deep in his chest, and a weak breath left his mouth as he pressed his thumb into the tip of his cock. “i’d watch you just like i am now,”

if you were with him now, he would take his time with you. slowly and gently destroy you. he’d revel in the way you’d fall apart piece by piece as he brought you higher and higher. then he’d piece you back together. kissing your sweaty cheeks and coaxing you with gentle words.

“please,” he could hear you whisper out.

“touch yourself for me, i want you to feel good,” you looked back at him with a drunken gaze, your cheeks were hot, and your chest was heaving up and down. he watched as you spread your legs for him, propping up your heels at the edge of your bed.

he could see the wet stain in the gusset of your white panties, fuck you were dripping and just over a few words. there was a slight tremble in your legs as your fingers inched closer and closer to your throbbing clit. it was hot, it was so hot.

your entire body ached. you needed something more. you needed him.

you needed to feel the stretch of his cock, the weight of his hips pounding into you, and his tip slamming into your cervix. you needed his lips on yours; you needed to taste him, the salty sweat that dripped from his hairline and the sweetness of his tongue.

you rubbed at your pantie-clad clit, electricity ran through you, and a small moan elicited from your mouth. “Leon,” you whined, begging him to continue talking.

“look how wet you are,” he chuckled, bemused. he freed his cock from his boxers, stroking it slowly to your rhythm. your eyes flickered from his face and down to his lap, and the ache in your core only grew more. he was big, thick with veins running up to his pretty pink tip. he was curved upwards and his balls were taut.

you could just imagine what he’d feel like inside of you.

“fuck,” you clenched around nothing, rutting your hips up into your fingers. you’ve never been so turned on in your life.

“fuck yourself, baby, let me see you,” he groaned out, squeezing the base of his cock even harder. you were quick to abide by his wishes, watching his visage closely as you pulled your panties to the side, revealing the dripping heat that had been aching for him all this time.

he gulped upon seeing you, running his thumb over the tip of cock; precum was dripping all over his hand. god, he felt pathetic. just upon seeing your pretty pussy, he’s going to cum. he’s so close but he wants to make this last. he wants you to finish first. he wants to hear you, to see you, to watch you.

you dragged your two fingers through your trembling folds, biting down on your lower lip and squeezing your eyes shut. “so pretty, look at you,” he cooed.

the most lewd noises filled your room, the sound of your squelching cunt and your small moans and the wet faps of his cock and his heavy breaths. you slowly dipped your middle finger into your clenching hole and the subtle stretch and drag of your finger against your trembling walls had you reeling. but it wasn’t enough.

“follow my lead, baby,” he heaved out. you peeled open your eyes, looking at him. you watched him closely, matching the strokes of your finger to the strokes of his cock.

“oh my god,” you moaned out, dipping another finger into your cunt. the stretch only burned a little bit, but you knew it wouldn’t compare to the stretch of his girth. your breathing picked up, and you were focused on his voice and the movements of his fist.

he was so pretty. his lips wet with his saliva and red from biting down on them with his teeth. his pale cheeks were dusted over with a pink tint, and the pupils of his blue eyes were blown out. he looked crazed, his hair a sweaty mess, his lips agape, his muscles taut from trying to hold back from coming undone.

how beautiful he’d look in between your legs. that smooth tongue flicking at your clit and plunging into your dripping hole over and over.

“faster baby, fuck yourself faster, make yourself feel good,”

“Leon,” you dragged out, plunging your fingers into your cunt faster and faster. your eyes rolled into the back of your head, and you arched your back into the air, “fuck,” you whined weakly. you clamped your legs shut, overwhelmed by the pleasure that was until you heard a tut of his tongue.

“nuh uh, don’t hide from me, baby,”

“it’s too much,”

“you can do it,” he urged, watching as you slowly spread your legs for him again. there was a sheen layer of sweat on your skin, glistening in the warm orange-red lights. your thighs were trembling, a layer of your sticky essence coating your inner thighs and your plump lips — not the ones on your face.

your hair was coming loose from how you tied it back, how beautiful you looked all disheveled and messy just for him. your other hand gripped at the sheets beneath you, twirling the fabric in your fist — tugging at it helplessly as you continued to moan out his name like a martyr.

each curl of your fingers sent electricity through every nerve of your body, sending it up to your brain until you were ultimately a mess.

“Leon, I-“ you choked on your own words as the apple of your palm came in contact with your clit.

“i know, sweetheart,” he breathed, tightening his grip on his pulsating cock. fuck, he was leaking so much. he knew he was going to cum soon, his balls were so heavy, slapping against his fist with each stroke and he was lightheaded.

he watched as your eyes rolled into the back of your head, your back arched, and your cunt clenched around your fingers. a throaty moan left your lips as you came undone around your fingers. Leon wasn’t too far behind as his name left your lips in a weak whine. his muscles went taut, and a pathetic moan spilled from his swollen lips.

hot ropes of cum erupted from the tip of his cock and onto his joggers and fist. the grip he had on the arm of his chair was tight, but as his high came down, he was finally able to relax back into his seat. you were laid back on your bed; your thighs were still trembling, and your fingers were still between your legs, slowly circling your clit.

there was a small silence between them, a comfortable silence.

“that was…really good,” he sighed, running his palm across his forehead, wiping away the sweat. you chuckled, reaching behind your for your silk robe. an apricot-colored robe that matched the color of your lingerie that was now discarded somewhere in the room.

she pulled the robe over your shoulders, “i enjoyed that,”

you did more than just enjoy that. it was the best fucking orgasm of your life.

“i did, too,” he smiled. you sat back up, adjusting your appearance, tucking strands of hair behind your ear, and wiping the smudged mascara beneath your eyes.

“i meant it when i said you’re beautiful,” he spoke up.

“thank you, Leon,” you said, laughing nervously. you avoided eye contact with him as you rubbed at your thighs; your heart was still pounding in your chest, and that same feeling you were getting earlier was starting to come back.

“i don’t want this to be the last time i see you,” you admitted timidly.

Leon was taken aback by your sudden confession, did you mean like this? through a computer screen. or in real life? even with all these questions, he didn’t deny the buzz that pulsated through him. the raw excitement. it was like he was in high school all over again like his crush had just asked him out on a date.

“me too,” he gulped. you sat up a little bit, unable to hide the smile on your lips.

and it sure wasn’t.

“fuck!” your nails dragged down the skin of his back, and your other fingers were tangled in the strands of his blond hair. one of his hands gripped the headboard while the other had a vice grip on your hip. he was focused on the joining of your hips, how his cock pounded into your pretty cunt over and over again and the way with each thrust a deep moan was punched out of you.

“it’s so good,” you drawled out, leaning your head back into his pillow. he bent down, placing a kiss over your wet eyes. how many rounds have you gone? 2? 3? who knows, all he knows is that he’s caught in this loop. you’d fuck and then lay in each other's arms for a few hours, then fuck again, then relax, then fuck.

the drag of his curved tip was driving you crazy; he was stretching you so perfectly; it was all so overwhelming, yet you still craved more.

“so beautiful,” he bellowed through clenched teeth, “so fucking good,” your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him even closer and forcing him even deeper. both of you sucked in a gasp at this new feeling, his thrusts faltering at the way your cunt fluttered around his pulsating cock.

“fuck, baby,” he chuckled amusingly. he ground his hips into your slowly, nudging his tip against your cervix. each shallow thrust had your fingertips itching and your toes curling; it was so good, and it was even better because you’d been waiting for this.

you’ve been craving this. his weight on top of you, the smell of his cologne, the stretch of his girth, the feeling of his fingertips, the weight of his voice in the shell of your ear, and the taste of his plump lips. he dug one of his arms beneath the arch of your back, holding you close to him as he continued to grind into you.

“oh my fuck!” this new angle elicited another gasp from your swollen pink lips; the drag of his tip only got better, and he felt bigger. you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, burying your face into the crook of his neck where you could muffle your pathetic moans and calls of his name.

“fuck, you’re so tight,” he cursed. his fingertips sunk into your back, and his lips found your shoulder.

“i’m gonna cum,” you cried out. he continued thrusting into you at the same pace, taking his other hand and slipping it between their sweaty bodies. his calloused fingers found your swollen clit and he began rubbing in small circles.

a shuddering breath left your mouth, and your eyes rolled into the back of your head. you arched up further into him, begging him not to stop but also pleading that it was too much. your nails dug into his skin further, causing him to wince. it hurt, but it hurt so good.

when he looked at himself in the mirror, he could see the red lines all down his back and the multiple hickeys and bite marks littering his neck. you were the same; he had marked your body up and a sense of pride filled him as he looked down to see what he’s done.

red and purple bruises between your thighs from him nipping at your skin, hickeys all over your neck and breasts, bruises forming on your hips from the grip he’s had on her. red and purple marks decorated your beautiful skin; there was nothing you could want more than that.

getting lost in dirty sex and pleasure. rough and gentle. fast and slow.

you clenched down around him, burying your face deep into his neck, and with a loud cry of his name, you came undone around him. your release trickling down and staining the inside of your thighs and the front of his.

you locked your ankles around his waist, keeping him sheathed inside of you. “wait, baby-“

“i need it inside, Leon, i want to feel it,”

fuck.

he couldn’t say no. they both discussed safety before meeting each other. you were on the pill, and he had enough condoms, at least, he thought so. it wasn’t long until you ran out. two people lost in a forest of lust, blinded by pleasure and deafened by passion.

one last thrust, and his muscles went taut, his heavy balls clenched, and the hand between their bodies went to grip your thigh. chills ran through you as his hot cum flooded your cunt, you could feel every pulse of his cock and every heavy breath he let go.

just knowing that he finished inside of you enough to have your aching all over again.

he collapsed, wrapping his arms around her, and brought you along with him as he laid down. your eyes were already shut, your brain suddenly aware of the aching pain in your muscles and the pulsating of your skin.

his heart was still pounding and he lay in silence listening to it. he could feel sleep taking over him but he didn’t want to close his eyes. he was afraid that this was all a dream, all a part of his fantasy. he was afraid you’d disappear from his grip and he’d wake up to you two being strangers across a screen again.

he didn’t want that. if anything, he wanted to stay like this, enjoying passionate sex and continuing to build this newfound relationship with you.

you had driven down from your city to meet him for the first time. he took you out to dinner by the shore, and you two walked along the beach, you had on his jacket, and you two just talked and talked for hours. then in a rush of lust, you ended up in his bed.

he didn’t want this to end.

“why don’t you stay in Racoon City for a few weeks?” he whispered out, half asleep.

“huh?” his question sprung you back awake. “Leon, i brought like barely any clothes with me,”

“I have a washing machine, and my closet is all yours,” he smiled, his eyes halfway open and halfway closed, but he was very aware of what he was saying, and he meant every bit. you sat up, propping yourself onto your elbow, and placed a hand on his chest.

“you’re serious, aren’t you?”

“very,” he nodded.

you couldn’t deny the fact that you really wanted to and even though there were so many reasons to say no, Leon sat above all those reasons. he was the sole reason to say yes.

(divider creds to @saradika ,, photos off of pinterest)

a/n: official welcome to my kinktober yayyy!! sorry guys i'm so late i've been vv busy with school lols, but i hope you enjoyed this. i've never done a kinktober before, and even though i'm not posting a fic for all 31 days, i hope these few i will post this month will suffice. anyways bai bai until next time :3 - V!

notes: if you wanna be on my tag list pls message me or fill out the form below (just to make it easier on me :D)

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@daervannafia @puppyina @prettyntxhee @leonkennedygvrl

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@bloodstainedbandaid @jeonmochi99-blog @zizouu23

[bonnibuckets]

i’m hooting and hollering

[dollyzdaydreamz]

re2 + re4 leon kennedey x reader headcannon

so, I saw a bird today

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

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

RE2

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hopefully, it doesn’t come out looking like ramen noodle strands, but that was a worry for some other time…

In the silence, your thoughts drifted back to a video you saw online, a couple of women took it upon themselves to tell their partners that they ‘saw a bird today’ to gauge their partners reaction.

You weren’t surprised when they were met with a few confused stares or belittling comments about how random that conversation starter was.

You wondered how Leon would react…He was extremely attentive after all, he entertained you rambling about your hobby’s and hyper fixations.

Ah what the heck.

“Oh! I forgot to tell you,” You started.

“What is it?” He asked, pressing the button on the cross walk.

“…You know we can just go, right?” You said, looking around the road to see it was completely empty.

“Babe,” he huffed, scandalized, “that’s jaywalking.”

You rolled your eyes, here we go again…

“It’s illegal…Do you usually do that? Cause it’s really dangerous, you know—“

“I know, I know—don’t have to go on a tangent,” you grumbled.

You were freezing and this particular cross walk was famous for taking forever, “…Always have to be such a goodie two shoes…”

Leon chuckled, opting to keep your mind busy while you guys waited, “So what was it you wanted to tell me?”

“Oh yeah, I saw a bird today…”

“Oh…” He shifted in anticipation, brows knitted together, “What kind of bird was it?”

“Uh—“ you were caught off guard at how engaged he was. You supposed it was the cop in him, always a stickler for details and observation.

“It looked like a red cardinal…but blue.”

“Hm,” he straightened, “Must’ve been a blue jay…” he muttered to himself, breaking out of his thoughts when the cross walk finally began beeping and signaled that it was clear to cross.

He took your hand in his again, not forgetting to use the other to wave politely at the stagnant drivers.

You thought the conversation would end there, but once the two of you got to the other side he spoke up again,

“I used to always think those red cardinals were boys and the blue jays were girls.”

You chuckled, “Really?”

Leon shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck.

“There were these two that’d hang out near these trees on the playground when I was a kid…and I always imagined they were married,” He admitted with a shy little grin.

You melted right then and there. You had gotten him to ramble about married birds.

“That’s so cute,” you cooed, giving his ice cold face a little peck.

“Wonder where those birds are now…” you sighed, looking up at the dimming city skyline.

“They might still be together.” He smiled, squeezing your hand.

You asked if he’s seen any other married couples in a tree lately.

You were met with a frown and a threat to let go of your hand and let it freeze.

——————————————————————

RE4

Leon had always told you that you needed to work on your knife skills, so the two of you were in the midst of a routine sparring match, knives clashing sharply in a stale mate so many times, it got boring.

You knew him so well you could predict his footing and deflect his blows. He knew you so well he could sense the direction of your next slash and remain unscathed.

So, sparring became less of a skill building exercise and more of a dance routine.

As he dodges and nearly melees you for the millionth time, your thoughts drift to a little trend you saw online. People were telling their partners random things like ‘they saw a bird today’ to see how they would react.

“Hey…gotta tell you something,” you gasp, escaping the blade clutched in his right hand by just a hair.

Leon was so locked in he barely registered your words, his brown bone was low, jaw screwed tight, eyes watching your every move intently.

You decide to dive for his shoulders, prop yourself up on them, and use your weight to bring him down to the mat.

He stumbled, losing his balance and landed on the floor beneath you.

You grinned, he may have been Krausers knife throwing prodigy, but he wasn’t as agile as you were.

You tasted victory for a good two seconds, “Anyway, I said I wanted to say some—agh shit!”

It seemed he had regained his footing.

Your breath was stolen when your back met the mat, albeit gently, for someone who’d been rag dolled.

You blink and there he is, cold blade resting against your neck of course.

You should’ve known he gets off on winning.

His eyes swim with pride…and maybe even a tinge of something else as he suppressed a grin from above you.“What’d you wanna say so bad babe?”

His face was merely centimeters away from yours, warm breath cooling the sheen of sweat on your skin.

Your brain short circuits.

“I saw a bird today.”

He blinks, sobering up slightly.

“A bird?” He asks, the murk in his eyes clearing.

“Yep.”

“I—okay,” he shakes his head, before raising to get up and offer you a hand.

Well, that was expected.

Leon wasn’t much of a chatter to begin with. After what happened 6 years ago, his tendency to say less became stronger. He still always lent an ear to you though, coaxing you to share whatever was bothering you, insisting it wasn’t healthy to keep all your thoughts inside.

‘You don’t wanna end up like me.’ He’d say. That would always bring you down even more. Why does he have to stigmatize himself so much?

You just wish he’d talk to you about his troubles the way you did. But that was too much to think about right now.

After showering and getting changed into something more comfortable, you sat on the bench to pack your things.

Leon walked over before kneeling down to your feet and straightening out your long winter socks.

You could do it yourself, but he always insisted on doing it for you. You suppose it was second nature to busy himself with helping others, even if it was in the simplest way.

As he raised your leg gently, he began to speak again, a soft grin evident on his face, “So…what kind of bird did you see?”

Oh.

So he does care about the bird you didn’t actually see. See? You shouldn’t have doubted him. Leon does that after all, sometimes you think he isn’t all there when you’re talking, but then he’ll randomly bring up or buy you something you mentioned in passing like three weeks ago.

“I uh…I don’t know. It looked like an owl. It was really cute.” You sputtered.

Leon nodded, gently rolling the warm socks onto your ankle and calve.

“…You like owls.” He noted.

“How’d you know?” You ask seeing as you totally made the owl up.

“Well,” He chuckled softly, grunting slightly as he got up to sit next to you,

“You have like two owl plushies. You wouldn’t even let me move them when we were having—”

“Okay—” you bristled, “I just didn’t want them to feel abandoned.” You explained like it was common sense.

Leon huffed, taking your hand in his and leading the both of you toward the door, “Tell you what, you win the next sparring match, I’ll buy you a real owl.”

“Wait actually?”

“No.”

[bonnibuckets]

ugh so cutie

[justadeathnotefan]

Red Fate .✩♬ ₊˚

Summary: Post dedicated to this request. In a world where soulmates exist, L is your other half, not as hard as it sounds, plus, you have your friends.

W/C:5.5K (I'm so freaking scared this is cringe)

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol, kisses, and almost making out I suppose, mostly fluff, though! Also, AU where L won against Kira, so Light is either dead or in jail (most likely the first-)

Go back to masterlist: Here.

✮☆⋆˙ᯓ★ᯓ˙☆✮⭒✮☆⋆˙ᯓ★ᯓ˙☆✮

.𖥔 ݁ ˖✮♡.-Destiny. It’s something that some believe in, and some others don’t, both opinions are valid, or at least they were until proof proved that fate did exist, at least in romance.

It was something that appeared out of nowhere, pretty much as if there was a void and this fate was born to fill that empty space, but in nowadays world, you were able to know who your soulmate was.

As a kid, hearing of something like this was fairytale like, a dream come true, you’d learn who your beloved was and you’d stay together, the ultimate bond, sounded amazing, but as an adult? As someone who had already built their life with someone, only to find out they weren’t their soulmate, it was heartbreaking, some cared and ended things, while a minimal amount stayed with each other, yet with a yearning for another lover.

It had begun a few years or decades ago, after learning that some myths that before were taken just as a joke were a truth, the government took the chance to investigate and elaborate further, and after they looked out for something, they indeed found something.

There were some other theories that were reality, such as the red thread one, legend saying that you were connected to your soulmate with this red thread, it could be long or short, stretched, but never cut out, and, that one day you’d up being lovers with the person you were attached to.

To find this person, some people found their way to make it visible, and your parents had decided that they’d do the enchantment once you were born so you were forced to find your soulmate; the whole thing in a worldwide meaning was an awful thing to do, a passionate thing to do, a task or a must do, depending on your perspective.

You were neutral on it, didn’t care about the thread that united you to someone, or at least you were until you entered your post grade, half of the campus had already found their special one, and the other half were in search for them, frustrating, really.

The day was sort of calm, cloudy yet not rainy, not cold nor warm, just a usual day. You and your friends had accorded to go to the town’s library in order to study, surely as well as hanging out. Being a twenty-seven woman wasn’t an easy job, or you thought so.

You were on your way of being a forensic, almost finishing in two months, it had always called you out in some twisted and interesting manner. You’d help people, in a unique approach, but you would, that’s what mattered the most at the end.

So, as you awaited, you felt something tugging your hand, when you turned around, you only found out that it was him, or her? Better to just call them by they until you discovered it; well, that it was them moving around, they didn’t really move that much.

It grounded you, since it made it feel more real, made the whole destiny thing to become more physical than just an idea in your brain, and in some other form, it also was threatening, to know there was somebody out there waiting for you. You liked to think that they did it on purpose, since they didn’t disturb you constantly, so when they pulled, you pulled back, never getting a pull in return once again unfortunately.

And yet you continued doing so every time they moved, after feeling the tug, you swung your arm, then placed it on the table in front of your seat, waiting for them to do anything…

One second…

Two seconds now…

And, surprisingly… Three seconds…

A sigh was heard coming from your breath before they replied, you had already given up after four seconds. Then you felt it, a soft pull, it was different to the others, more planned, as if they had thought about it.

Your eyes widened and your heart stopped mid second, not fully believing they had made something in return, and just as you were about to move again, you felt a soft tap on your shoulder. Being a woman who looked rather lost, she adjusted her glasses, then spoke with a gentle voice:

—Excuse me miss, do you know where the bathrooms are at? My apologies if I interrupted anything…

It brought you back to earth, popping your bubble of illusions, so quickly, you gave her some instructions and directions, the old lady nodded and gave you smile, thanking you for your kindness.

She walked away, and while you watched her doing so, you noticed your friends entering the place, the idea of them tugging back now long forgotten in your mind. You stood up, then went with your group.

—Layla! Abel!

You yelled at them, trying to catch their attention, waving a hand after they spot you. Seeming oddly pleased.

—Wait for me!

You went with them, giving them a quick hug as a greeting, then tilted your head after they giggled, being weirded out by their attitudes.

—What’s with you two? You’re acting all joyful…

They scoffed, then Layla grabbed your hand and lead you outside the library, almost as if she didn’t really care about the whole study hang out thing, probably that was the case, knowing her.

—You have no idea what happened today to both of us pumpkin pie!

Abel followed along as she dragged you, getting to a more secluded area in the library’s garden, she looked around in an attempt of finding out a seat, and failing afterwards, she huffed, then sat on the ground, making you trip over for a second.

She stopped holding your hand to take something out of her bag, Abel left out an amused chuckle as he sat beside you, both observing her, curiosity filling your senses.

—Look! Look! Remember how Abel and I were still looking out for our soulmates, well, guess what happened today?

Her excitement was showing all over you, even though you weren’t actually sharing the feeling, you hummed in acknowledgement, already expecting to be told they had found them, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt.

—I told you to guess!

You sighed, rolling your eyes as Abel punched your side, trying to get you out of your judging state, yet the moment didn’t feel tense at all, you understood each other without being awkward.

—Alright, alright, hm… If I really have to guess, I’d tell you both already found them.

She jumped over to you, grabbing your hands and squished them without much force, giggling in enthusiasm, a smile forming on her face.

—Yes! But, like, girl, they are siblings! Like, they live in the same house and everything! You tell her Abel!

Abel nodded, his emotions much less obvious than what Layla was showing off, having a mere blush over his cheeks and avoiding eye contact with you.

—Yes… We were getting out of our apartment as our threads started to tense a lot… As well as being tugged by them, when we followed it, we found them and had a short chat…

He seemed sheepish about the whole story, happy at the same time, couldn’t help but be happy about them, yet envious, they had already found their soulmates, not to say that since they entered your college, they had been having interactions with their future partners, even though they were only tugs.

The evening passed with no trouble, you talked for a while, joked, had some snacks, and studied, of course, them, your soulmate didn’t have activity, apparently, you didn’t feel any kind of movement, wondered if they also overthought about how much you moved, or more importantly, wondered about you.

✮☆⋆˙ᯓ★ᯓ˙☆✮⭒✮☆⋆˙ᯓ★ᯓ˙☆✮

He was in the middle of a case as he felt your tug. It distracted him, awfully, he could have an incredible attention span, he did in fact, but you, you were just so annoying, since he was born, you were there, he had no idea of who you were, but you had always been with him.

He was an orphan, he had no social clues, so no one had ever explained him the concept of soulmates, until Wammy’s house, that was. And still, he couldn’t fully comprehend why would anyone want their children to be attached to someone their whole life, nor why he had to be united to someone.

So whenever he felt that movement of yours, a constant one, he was fuming, not quite literally, he kept being a stoic and unexpressive teenager, but it pissed him inside his core, since it was a reminding of you, your presence, he never returned the action, wanting to make you think you had no soulmate, that he was non-existent, he rarely moved harshly, only doing so to practice his capoeira or play tennis matches.

Today was different, though, his spoon had dropped to the floor when he was eating, not having enough focus on his actions but on the data that showed the screen, he moved to pick it up, yet that’s when you moved, perfect time, it was almost as if you were constantly thinking when it’d be better for you to annoy him and do so exactly.

He almost tripped, and in consequence, he moved in a slightly rough way, he noticed the thread tense, knowing what that could’ve probably mean to you, so what had been a reply to you, it had been an accident to him, another nuisance of being practically chained to you.

You didn’t respond back, though.

Perhaps it was better that way, he had enough on his plate to worry about his soulmate having ideals.

How were you? And how truthful was the fact that you were his soulmate? Would he really meet you? Would he at least like you?

He stared blankly into the screen once again, just zoning out momentarily, then returned his attention into the case.

Then, he ran out of pastries, 8:32 p.m. and he didn’t have any sweets left, if it was any normal day, he would’ve got Watari to bring him more, but it wasn’t, Watari had left to go on a trip to the orphanage, saying he wanted to check if all the children were doing alright, L had agreed, thinking it was an efficient choice, and now, now he was regretting it.

He sighed in frustration, not wanting to go out at all, put being smart enough to know that he wouldn’t be comfortable with the idea of spending all the night and probably the next morning without fuel.

He grabbed a dark blue coat Watari gave him for emergency cases (even if this was no emergency), the keys of the hotel room, and proceeded to make a small visit to a nearby store, hoping not to take a lot of his own time.

✮☆⋆˙ᯓ★ᯓ˙☆✮⭒✮☆⋆˙ᯓ★ᯓ˙☆✮

You were lying on your bed, passing the sheets of Layla’s notebook one after another, in some hope that you’d understand her notes, even though it was about a topic you didn’t even have in your career, being an assignment from Layla and Abel. Couldn’t resist their pleads and puppy eyes.

You rubbed your temple in exhaust, whether you liked it or not, you were tired, studying that much today had been a trouble, more thanks to your poor sleeping habits. Deciding that you’d continue trying to be reliable and helpful to your friends tomorrow, you closed the notebook, then turned to read the hour on your clock.

8:42p.m.

Perhaps taking a walk could help you relax, plus, it had been a while since you last did so, at least by your own, you grabbed a light orange hoodie you had, put your headphones on, played some musica, then took your apartment’s keys, opened the door, and went outside.

...

As he went to the store, he felt you moving, slightly, but he was sensible, receptive to any kind of thing that he considered an alert or a signal, you were an alert, he wasn’t sure why, but every time he went to the outside world, he always had a feeling that he was in danger, that, or that he’d find you and have his brain short circuit.

For his fortune, that has never happened.

After defeating Light, his life had changed a lot. He was more known now, before, he was a shadow that nobody was aware of, now he was a worldwide celebrity, without anyone knowing how he looked, that was helpful.

He started to value life more. Maybe being in the edge of dying can make thing to you, but he started to go for walks sometimes, started eating some real food at least once a day, continued learning new hobbies…

Once he entered the store, he reached for some packaged little donuts that were on the top shelf, already having multiple overprocessed sweets in his bag, not his favorite, but it was better than not having anything. Then the thread tightened again.

It somehow felt different than every time it tensed.

...

You were on your way to the pharmacy, you had to buy some meds for some project you’d be working on this week, you asked the cashier if she knew where they were, and they pointed out to the highest shelf.

—Sorry, I’d reach them for you, but I don’t really think I’d be able.

You didn’t understand at first, then noticed they were on a wheelchair, you gasped for a second, then brushed it off lightheartedly.

—Ah… Don’t worry, you’re already being much help.

They smiled, being grateful for your empathy, then you tried to reach the box.

You almost fell back due to a tug, another one today, that was unusual.

But it had also been much different.

He brushed it off, not wanting to involve any further in you. He grabbed the donuts, went to the counter, paid, and got out of the store, his mood was already going down, he opened the donuts and got one into his mouth, trying to lift his attitude in the only way he knew.

You got out of the pharmacy after paying, waving goodbye to the worker who helped you, you wanted to get them out of your head, but that tension, it just felt weird, unique, you shook your head, convincing you that it was probably just your imagination playing you tricks, as you walked back to your apartment, you crashed with someone, your bag falling as well as you.

—O-ow!

…

He was completely stunned. Not knowing what to do, and only wanting to run away from you.

You looked up, making eye contact by accident, half accident, you didn’t intend to. The person who you had crashed with was with his eyes completely open, as if they had just seen a ghost, rude.

He continued to look at your hand, then at his, you didn’t get, or that was until you did get it.

Your thread was the same, you were connected by it, now you were the shocked one.

His eyes were really dark, now that you were having the chance to look at him, they were a he. L offered a trembling hand, not sure about it, you took it.

After helping you get up and picking up your bag, he gave it to you, his skin was pale and cold, yet you could only feel warm inside, you didn’t know him, not a single bit, but being aware that he was your soulmate, it made you feel all fuzzy and nervous. You spoke, yet cringed at your own voice.

—A-ah… So… Um… w-what’s your name?

—…I… I would recommend you forget this interaction.

—E-excuse me?

—…I do not wish to be related to you in any way. Considering that, I’d say it’s more efficient if you do not think about this nor look out for myself.

You stared at him with confusion, you had only asked your name, were you that awful looking?

He started to walk away, passing just right beside you, making you panic, you didn’t know when you’d see him again or if you would even do so, you froze, would leaving him be the best thing? And yet, you straight up followed him, running behind him.

—H-hey! Wait!

He sure was a fast walker. By the moment you reacted, he had already walked to the other side of the road, traffic lights were already on red. You were catching some air, damn low stamina, not the only thing you caught though, there were some shining objects on the floor, as you picked it up in curiosity, you found out keys.

✮☆⋆˙ᯓ★ᯓ˙☆✮⭒✮☆⋆˙ᯓ★ᯓ˙☆✮

—And he just- walked away?! And you decided taking his keys?!

Layla was taken aback when on Monday’s lunch you told her the whole story, using phones was difficult to you due to your bad signal, not that you were technology expert at all.

—Y-yea…?

Abel sighed, swallowed his bite and looked over at you with a mix of an amused expression and a disappointed one.

—I thought you had morals rather than impulsive reactions, _____.

You scoffed at his comment, ignoring him afterwards, not worth your saliva.

—What should I do Lays…?

—You ask me?! Pumps you’re the one who grabbed a stranger’s keys!

—It is not a stranger, it’s my soulmate!

—That you barely know he is!

Layla sat again next to Abel, who continued eating, not getting the whole deal, sometimes you wanted to murder him and use him for your own classes.

✮☆⋆˙ᯓ★ᯓ˙☆✮⭒✮☆⋆˙ᯓ★ᯓ˙☆✮

You were pretty, also smelled nice. Did that thought make him a pervert? Misa had once called her that. He somewhat hoped you didn’t think so. He shouldn’t care what you think about him, he shut you down. You had no importance to his life, occupation, nothing.

He didn’t want come out that harsh with you.

He had his keys missing. You probably had them, fortunately the hotel receptionist recognized him, he also called him the odd-looking client, not that he minded. Inside his room, he couldn’t stop thought about you fill his mind, he hated it, hated you.

Not get involved, it was for the better.

It didn’t really work well, having access to the city’s cameras without counting as stalking was definitely an advantage. You did have his keys, discovering your identity wasn’t hard neither.

You studied medicine, that explained your “groceries”. The more he started to discover about you the more invested he was.

...

Writing, Layla and Abel had pushed you to it, with a pen in your hand, you tried to figure out what you could say to someone who you didn’t even know his name, his fault at least.

They told you that you could write a letter and leave it in the hotel along with his keys, you thought it was dumb, but it was also dumb that gods of death existed or that fate did as well, better not to ramble.

Hello!I'm the girl from the pharmacy... Whatever your name is, I hope you can change your mind, my name’s ____.

I didn’t want our first meeting to be that awkward…

Call? If you want?

+** **** ****

This was dumb, it would never work, you were a fifty percent sure it wouldn’t, but Abel had offered you a free dinner with him and Layla if you did so, and you had to return the keys back as well.

You made yourself go to the hotel. Finding the address wasn’t a big deal, since the keys had it in it. Probably to cases like this anyone could return the keys to the place.

...

When he heard someone had left something for him, he was weirded out, not fully believing it. But when they handed him a note and keys, he knew it was you. Your name was pretty as well.

You weren’t as despiteful as he thought you’d be.

Hopes were almost gone when after almost a day nothing had happened. Your phone never ringed, Layla didn’t help with her stories about her own soulmate, it made you feel like yours was an idiot.

So, when you went to your kitchen to drink a glass of water in the middle of the night, you didn’t expect your phone to have a voice mail from an unknown number, once you played it, you were sure it was him, it had to be. It was simple only some sort of apology from him, said something about the number he was using wasn’t a number you could call, only message, yet, that he would call one day, perhaps.

It was better than silence, and definitely welcomed.

It was always mid-night when you’d get those types of messages. Small things about him, he didn’t tell you anything relevant of who he was, but answered the small questions, to be honest, he was more interested in you than what he’d admit, stalking, no, investigating was a great resource to know someone.

—Do you ever sleep?

—From time to time.

—Then why do you always talk by this hour?

—I find myself occupied most of the time, night is calm.

He’d return the questions if he felt like it, never being too intrusive, it was in its own way some activity you cherished, a part of your routine.

—I’d like to know if you dislike anything.

There was a point where you started being comfortable, teasing when you were too sleepy to continue typing with clarity.

—Straight to the point, don’t you? There’s lots of things I don’t lkie.

—Did you mean like?

—Yes, that word.

He was so serious, and still, he could tease with you too.

When he called you, it was him mostly hearing you talk about how your day went, you were nervous as you did, but it was nice to somewhat take a step with him, from texts to voice. He already knew some of the most important things about you, how you only had one older brother, about Layla and Abel, what you were studying and else.

Middle talk, you couldn’t help but ask about him. He only revealed you his name, L, you were unsure with it, but decided to trust him, that, and that he was a detective, and an important one, too.

You asked if he ever thought that both of you would ever meet again in real life, the question took a few seconds for him to reply, not wanting to say yes, he was supposed to not get involved, nevertheless, his answer was positive.

...

The first “hangout” was awkward. It had only been the two of you buying a pastry from a recent bakery that just opened near your apartment, you were the one who offered doing so, he liked them luckily. L took notes of your mannerisms though, it only made sense how much the thread tensed before, you really fidgeted a lot.

And they continued, the fourth time was less tense, you actually were freer of being yourself around him, even with your slightly rude attitudes, such as rolling your eyes or bumping his side.

You both went to a park, just walking in circles as you spend the evening.

Your smile was pretty. Was there anything about you that wasn’t pretty?

And your eyes were always showing something, they, you, made him feel seen, even if you still had minimum information about him; he didn’t get why, but the way you giggled when you told him anything, or the way you’d say mocking comment made him feel vulnerable, like a safety he had never had.

Once you lost the count of hangs out, L started to open up, he would smile when you said something that amused him, he stopped fearing the whole soulmate thing, he stopped fearing you.

While you were on a subway, after you had convinced him on taking public transport after telling you he had never used it, you were telling him about Layla’s and Abel’s reaction to you telling them about your hangouts with L. He was leaning his head on the wall, even if you were both sat down. He had a weird way of sitting, and he told you that he didn’t really like wearing shoes, but he didn’t mind as long as it wouldn’t be a long time doing so.

You didn’t care at all; everyone had their own odd things.

Layla had been flabbergasted when you told her, Abel was calm about it, almost as if he had expected it.

When you finished telling him, L had a happy expression on his face, a soft smile as he looked at you.

—What?

—Hm?

—You’re looking at me like I’m a weirdo.

He huffed, a light chuckle coming out of his lips.

—I am not.

—Then?

—…It is only that you are really pretty.

You hadn’t seen that one coming even in a million years, a blush creeped into your face as you avoided to look at him.

—U-uh… Thank you… I guess…

—No need to thank me.

And just like that, you were almost going to graduate from your post grade. Your group was going to throw a small party, small to a certain point, you were sure that there would be more than fifty people there. They had let everyone invite someone, and since you couldn’t choose between Layla and Abel, you decided to invite L.

He wasn’t convinced at the beginning, being at a party while being in danger constantly didn’t sound logical. And yet he just wanted to be with you, and badly, after all the time you had spent together, it certainly had made him stunned to your way of being, as necessary as a sweet would be for him.

Being there only for an hour was his final offer. Which, you happily accepted.

You were in a loose dress, having some tights on as well, subtle jewelry and still looking like you, not losing your own spark.

He hadn’t made much more trying than jeans with a shirt and a tie. The effort was what made it worth it. When he arrived, you wanted to play with his tie, bad habit, after tugging Abel’s tie each time you could, it was now something that entertained you greatly. Your will won against the bad ideas.

—Good night, mister fancy.

He stared in confusion as you said that, quickly getting the joke and playing around.

—Ah, I must say that’s a blasphemy misses elegant, since those are excellent nights, not only good.

He made a quick bow in front of you, making you giggle by his exaggerated acting. Wanting to be by his side already.

—What a truth mister fancy, shall we celebrate those excellent nights? And if so, then I’d be pleased by having your presence by my side.

A light grin got into his face, and he nodded, grabbing your hand with care, entering the house.

…

You didn’t want to be this drunk, you really didn’t. But when some classmates started to dare you to do things when L went to the restroom, you decided to accept, he lost sight of you, and you continued and continued drinking, saying that it would only be for the fun.

Now you were by L’s side again, he found you when you went to the restroom as well, with the intention of puking, nausea was a horrible kick. He led you to a balcony he had found before, outside the attic, no one was there, most people still drinking, besides your low stamina, you also had poor alcohol tolerance.

He regrets the fact that you were in this state, thinking that he could’ve taken better care of you, probably not, but it didn’t matter, not anymore. You complained about something, mumbling non sense as you entered the house again, he followed along, having a hand holding yours.

—Hm… L…

—…Yes, ___?

—…Have I… Ever… Ever told you you’re really handsome?

He wasn’t affected by your words, perhaps you meant them. But he didn’t want to take any type of advantage of you. He only hummed, then sat you on a puff that was there.

—And… That… That I want to kiss you… most of the time?

This time, it did catch him off guard, his cheeks took a light pink color beneath the purple of his cute eyebags, yet tried not to reply anything, you giggled again after mumbling.

—Hey… I’m talking to… to you!

You grabbed him by his tie, tugging him so he’d be almost on top of you, his eyes widened quickly placing his hand in a way he wouldn’t crush you with his own weight, and he couldn’t avoid start to be nervous. Not only he wasn’t familiar with you being in an intoxicated state, but anyone being like that.

—…That’s… That’s more like it, pretty boy…

You pressed a soft kiss into his lips, no, your first kiss with him, only pecking him for a second, before he’d stand up with his usual stoic expression now disappeared.

—No. We are not doing this. Not if you are intoxicated and with no consent of yours.

He grabbed your hand and started to drag you while you sulked, mumbling about how he didn’t return the kiss, went with the host and thanked him for everything, letting him known your state and that you both were leaving.

Get you to be sober hadn’t been hard, he led you to his hotel, deciding to rent another room just for you, only two huge bottles of water had already made you be more conscious, if not completely.

He only stared at you with an awkward position, not knowing how much you remembered, of how would you act, you two were soulmates, yes, but that didn’t mean he was ready to go for the next step as entering a relationship was.

—…L?

—Yes?

—…I am consent now and…. I wanted to ask you something…

—You are free of doing so.

—Would you… would you pull away again if I tried to kiss you?

As you stayed sitting on the bed, your hands were fidgeting, for the umpteenth time they were, he had expected some sort of question like this, and still, he had no answer, this time, he left his mind just ease and go on with whatever happened.

—I… Do not think so, no.

The expression your eyes showed made him feel like he was doing the right thing.

—Then uh… May I do so?

—…

Instead of giving you another answer, he only leaned, placing his lips against yours, keeping them pressed for a moment. You tugged him by tie, and his hand moved in reflex, placing it on the bed just besides your thigh, you hummed into the kiss, knowing that this was your first official kiss with your soulmate.

You parted it to catch some air, it felt cold, everything did except him, he didn’t really pant like you did for a second, only staring at you and appreciating you.

You placed your other hand on his nape, intertwining some of his hair locks with your fingers, then leaned him into another kiss, this time with more passion and less shyness from you, he didn’t mind.

He placed his other hand on your neck, softly caressing as if it was the most delicate thing in the world, he had never kissed and yet he tried not to think about the way you were making him feel, as if his lungs were practically begging him to stop and breath as he’d normally do, but the feeling was just as an obsession as his whole admiration for you was.

When you bit his lip, he gasped, not getting why would you do that, and so he pulled away.

—A-ah, did I do something w-wrong?

The way he looked at you intimidated you for a second, feeling as if he was now upset.

—…Why would you bite me?

—Oh… U-uh… I was just… look, give me a-another chance and don’t pull away… Please?

You expected his answer, and he reluctantly nodded, pressing your lips with his, and as you bit him again, he gasped, yet didn’t pull away this time, allowing you to enter your tongue on his mouth, the sensation, made him weird out, but tried to follow your actions learning from your reactions.

The kiss was sloppy and a small chaos, but it was in its way an innocent one, he traveled his hand, now laying it on your waist instead of neck, and you tugged his hair softly, you finally pulled away and smiled, pecking him again.

—…My name’s as well Lawliet…

—What?

—My last name is Lawliet.

You didn’t know exactly why would he say that all out of a sudden, but something was obvious for you, it was something he wouldn’t say to anyone. It was important, really so. You pecked his cheek, your soulmate’s cheek, then nodded.

—…Thank you for telling me.

He pecked your lips, trying to think of the right words then pecked them again, then your right cheek, the left, and finally your forehead.

—…___?

—Hm?

—…Would you let me be your boyfriend?

You smiled, your eyes softening and your cheeks blushing, you kissed him again, then nodded.

—Of course.

A/N: God I'm so tired but I wanted to finish this, I'M BACK BABYYYYYY, lol, so uh, I have a lot of thoughts, I've been really busy with my own studies family blah blah, but ill take a break from everything and write, also, I feel like this request I made it pretty shitty, I'm so sorry if so, hope y'all like it though if you're still here- also, be like L, drunk consent is not consent, anyways, drink your foods, eat your waters, and have a great day! Love you! Sorry for the yapping

(Also, if anything doesn't make sense, please tell me, right now im tired, but i might change mistakes later if told)

-Michi! 😽💗

[bonnibuckets]

AAAAAA this was so cutie i love it 🫶🏻

[bonnibuckets]

hello peeps so sorry i’ve been DEAD. 2025 was crazy asf for me, as im sure it was for everyone. family life, personal life, school, and i moved out. with all that to say I know it’s only february, but it’s looking like 2026 is going to be a lot better and i might even have a few ideas on the way!

[bonnibuckets]

i need to get a life, need to get out and make friends…💔

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summer save me pls pls pls. future bonnie is going to get her degree and get an amazing internship and be onto bigger and better things and tap more into my creative side UGH can’t wait to meet her!!!!!

[bonnibuckets]

Okay since u ASKED us to bother u...

Please do a super mega ultra angsty headcanon with re men(including krauser yes) OR a leon with a S/O who's also a bsaa but gets infected and he has to kill em. :')))

BITTEN BLUE !

ft. leon kennedy x gn! reader

content. ANGST no comfort, light gore! death WC: like 700 idk

synopsis. leon has to put a bullet between your eyes

note. HEY! SO SO SO SORRY ITS LITERALLY TAKEN ME FOREVER TO GET TO THIS!! (not proofread i’m sorry again) borders in pinned post! 🏷️ list— @adaelines @konigbabe @meowsiee @redvleanli @rigorwhoring

You stand there huffing as a pile of zombies now lay still. Brushing the hair out of your face as you holster your gun red caught your eye. You look at your leg before you’re slapped in the face with a bite wound. Your stomach drops and you feel like you’re in a dream. This shit couldn’t be real it had to be fake but the delayed pain finally set in as the adrenaline rush crashed.

“fuck” you hiss as tears well in your eyes “fuck no no no please” Panic was bubbling as you rip a piece of your shirt off and do your best to stop it from bleeding. You had your fair share of wounds but this one would be your last. How long has it been since you’ve been bitten? 5 minutes? Shit maybe 10? You didn’t know how much time you had left, that realization hit you hard as you hear Leon’s voice

Frozen in place unable to move or speak. Your knees feel weak, your ears are ringing and all you can make out is his muffled voice call out, you try your hardest to focus and rip yourself back to reality. Leon's hand grabs your shoulder.

“Hey are you okay?” he chuckles before he went silent seeing you in shock “Are you hurt?” He asks physically, turning you around, scanning before his eyes landing on your leg.

It felt like the world stopped spinning.

“I’m sorry” you manage to whisper as tears threaten to fall. You can’t bring yourself to pick your head up to see Leon's face. “I..I’m so s-sorry” you say as tears fall.

Leon pulls you in immediately as he rests his head on your head, he can’t trust himself to say anything afraid his voice will fail him. So he just brushes your hair as tears fall down his face. You both knew what this meant— knew what needed to happen and it needed to happen soon.

Your skin was getting hot and your head was getting dizzy, “Leon” you whisper. The silence was too loud “No” he says, swallowing the lump in his throat, squeezing you tighter “No”. His voice breaks and you can’t help but hug him back the tightest you ever have— both of you gripping each other’s shirts trying to melt into one another. “You have-” “Shut up” he grits his teeth bitterly “I can’t, I won’t” your heart was heavy “We don’t have much time” you say peeling away finally looking in his eyes. Despite the red surrounding you couldn’t help but get momentarily lost in the color you made your favorite shade of blue because of him.

He helps you sit down as he was on his knees at your feet, face blotchy already. “i-i can’t” he spoke, jaw clenching— your heart swelling seeing him like this, your brave man reduced to nothing. “you have to or I will” you cough as it was getting harder to breathe and your vision blurry. He shook his head before standing up abruptly and yelling “fuck!” Another person he loved was going to die and leave him alone.

“s’not your fault” you chuckle “I got sloppy” you wince coughing

Leon shakes his head and his knuckles clench white. He couldn’t believe this shit was happening again, he thought after all these years of training— blood sweat, and tears, that maybe he finally was strong enough to protect the people he loved but life has ripped that carpet from under his feet.

You could feel yourself slipping away “Leon…please” you beg. Tears roll down both your faces as he takes his gun out cocking it— the sound makes your heart start racing.

The thought of death didn't scare you, you always knew it was around the corner. The thought of leaving Leon was what terrified you, this exact scenario was your worst nightmare and it became reality.

The gun was aimed at your head— you could see him shaking as a memory flashed in your mind.

—

“I’ll drive you home” he smiled “Thank you” you chuckled before you both made it towards the door and he put a little pep in his step to open the door for you— you caught a glimpse of how his hands were shaking despite his smile and suave attitude. He was just as nervous as you, and that comforted you.

—

“I love you Leon” you smile “I..fuck” he chokes teeth-gritting “I love you,” he spoke with the best smile he could muster looking into your eyes “Live for me Leon, okay? Don’t ever change, do that for me my love” he nods looking into your eyes “always”

The echo of the gun rang in his ears as he drops to the floor wailing out wishing he could turn back time.

[bonnibuckets]

the sadness is eating away at me bruh

[artemisia-musings]

A Broken Man Can Love Again

Minors DNI! 18+ only

Summary: Leon is tasked with training a new agent. He vows to protect her, but doesn't expect to fall for her.

Tags/Warnings: Fem reader, no use of Y/N, suicidal thoughts, violence, protective Leon, smut, trauma dumping lol.

Note: I've been super depressed lately so this fic has been kinda therapeutic to write. Protective Leon makes my heart flutter. Also this is my first time writing smut! Hope you like it <3

Leon Scott Kennedy worked best alone. It was easier that way, safer. He found it was often easier to work if he didn’t have some soft-hearted inexperienced rookie trailing along after him. He couldn’t stand to get attached to them, only for them to perish. He had seen far too many good men and women die at the hands of evil. The weight of every death hung heavy on him, a reminder of his failures to do what he had long ago promised to do. Save everyone. If he can’t even save his goddamn team, how is he expected to save the world?

Seven years since Racoon City, seven years since his autonomy was stripped away. He supposed it was for the best, although Leon couldn’t help but feel jealous of those who had to choose what to do with their lives. Claire was never given the choice between death or service, no, she got to run off and play humanitarian. He gritted his teeth, knowing he was being unfair. Of course, if Claire had known leaving him and Sherry would have resulted in them being kidnapped she would have helped. He tried not to hold it against her. He tried to remind himself that at the very least, he was still helping the world, saving it from those who would seek to destroy it. But as he walked down the halls of whatever government agency he was aiding that day, he couldn’t help but feel a flicker of hatred for those who had been given a choice to be there.

Most people he came into contact with at work didn’t even believe in B.O.W’s. And why should they? The government wiped the slate clean every time, burying the events so that the world wouldn’t panic. Very few government agents knew the horrors of the bio-weapons, and even fewer were properly trained on how to deal with them. The survival rate for agents like himself was low, to say the least. Hell, Leon felt like he had seen most of them die himself. Ripped apart, crushed like a bug, necks bitten and torn. He had become so desensitized to gore and violence over the years that it hardly even phased him anymore. Leon worked best alone, so his annoyance when it was announced he would be training a new rookie was astronomical. 

“Hunnigan, you have to be joking right? I’m the last guy they want training someone,” he argued, pacing the office of perhaps the closest thing he had to a friend in the government. 

Ingrid Hunnigan, ever the level-headed individual, merely shrugged. “They thought your experience with B.O.Ws, along with the recent success of your Spain mission, made you the best candidate to train her.” Hannigan paused from clacking at her keyboard. 

“If things go well, they will most likely make her your new partner.” She said it so casually as if this wasn’t a tremendous update. 

Their relationship was one built off of duty. Ever since his mission in Spain last year, he had taken a liking to the no-nonsense woman. She let him complain and whine about his job; about his loneliness. And while she couldn’t do anything to help him, she was able to provide him with a small amount of validation and comfort. The field support agent was perhaps the only person aside from his higher-ups who knew of his forced involvement in the agencies. 

“If she lasts that long,” Leon grumbled under his breath. Hannigan cast him a sour look but Leon shrugged it off, knowing he didn’t get a say in the situation- he never did. Choice wasn’t something in his job description, if he had a choice he wouldn’t be here at all. Or would he? For the past seven years, he had been trained to be an agent, trained to be the perfect weapon against eldritch abominations created by capitalistic psychopaths, and before that he had spent years at the police academy, training to serve. All his adult life he had been taught to serve and obey, and he was pretty damn good at it too. An obedient little soldier, ready to die for his masters. If Leon had a choice would he still be here? He couldn’t fathom the possibility of a normal life anymore, not with the knowledge that the world was so corrupted and ugly, ready to implode at any moment. Leon never had the option to choose this career, why anyone would be beyond him? 

Mumbling a goodbye, he left his friend before returning to his own office. He slumped down in the chair, booting up his computer. Might as well figure out who his partner is anyway. Leon knew it was a bad idea to get attached, but curiosity killed the cat. Pulling up her file, he was surprised to see how young she was, not even past her early twenties yet.  Most recruits tended to be older, and more experienced in military combat and whatnot. An unease washed over him as he read her file closely, a pang of anger sparking in his chest. The girl was in a similar boat as him. Wrong place, wrong time. Welcome to the club, kid. She had been present during an isolated virus outbreak at a University football game and had the unfortunate accolade of being one of the few survivors. Anyone with the capability to stand up to an infected tended to capture the attention of the government. Leon gritted his teeth, trying to calm the rage that brewed inside him. Had they blackmailed her into agreeing to join? Threatening her family, her own life, if she didn’t comply? He hadn’t even met her yet and he was already miserating over her. 

Leon looked closer at her photo, taking in the saddened but hopeful spark in her eyes. Was she trying to see the bright side of the situation? Did she think she would get to be a hero? Leon let out a sigh, leaning back in his chair as he tried not to dwell on the potential of losing another person, another partner, another friend; the heart can only handle so much. “I’ll try and keep you safe” he murmured to himself, glancing back up at the photo on his screen. This time it would be different. It had to be.

_______

It was a sunny day when he met his new partner. Leon stood in the training room, rays of light beaming through the windows as a suit-clad man escorted the young woman in, no doubt her handler. Leon sucked in a breath, remaining stoic as they approached, trying to calm his racing nerves. Despite what he might tell others, Leon wasn’t exactly well-versed in talking to women. He used to consider himself a smooth talker in college, but ever since he left the academy, his exposure to flirting opportunities had been limited, to say the least. The closest he had gotten to flirting was with Ada last year in Spain. Can it be called flirting when you have a knife to their throat? However, one night in seven years was still a losing streak in his eyes. 

The nameless suit briefly introduced the woman, whom upon hearing her name called, hesitantly reached out her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Agent Kennedy,” she greeted awkwardly. 

Leon huffed a chuckle, an eyebrow quivering in amusement as he slowly reached for her hand. “Please, just call me Leon,” he insisted, shaking her hand. It was soft, not yet hardened by callouses, and her grip was weak. Hands that had not seen battle. They shouldn’t see battle at all. She shouldn’t be here to begin with.

As the agent departed, Leon took in the sight of his new trainee. He had been told she had been put through basic military training, but it would be up to him to prepare her for the unpredictability of bio-weapons. Without hesitation, he unsheathed his knife, slashing it toward her and she yelped in surprise, arching backward to avoid the blade.

“What the hell?!” she protested, dodging yet another attack from him. Her movements were clumsy, but fast- he could work with that.

“You think a bio-weapon is gonna give you a heads up when it’s about to kill you?” He retorted, his knife nicking her cheek. “You think a corpse is gonna ask permission to bite you? That a mutated beast is gonna wait for your turn?” The girl grits her teeth, dodging and weaving his slashes. “You have to be ready for anything because these things will not hesitate to kill you.” His blade came into contact with her arm as he knocked her down and she fell with a grunt, glaring up at him. Leon bit back his tongue, ignoring the way her frustrated look pained him. It was for her good, he couldn’t let her training be easy, not if she expected to live through the next few years. As much as Krauser was a psychotic sadist, Leon couldn’t help but admit that his brutal training methods had been useful. He reached out his hand, the young woman hesitating before taking it. 

“ That’s one hell of a hello,” she grumbled, and a smirk formed on Leon’s mouth. He pulled her up to her feet, giving her a pat on the shoulder.

“Don’t take it personally,” he chuckled softly. “Now, let’s go get you bandaged up.”

____________

The seasons start to change and Leon starts to dread going to work less. Despite the colder nip in the air, he feels warm, and eager at the prospect of seeing his rookie. She has acclimated well to her new role, and while Leon wishes he could punch the son of a bitch who forced her to enlist, he can’t help but feel a spark of gratitude that she was here. 

The rookie isn’t overtly chatty, and Leon can tell she still doesn’t fully trust him. He can see it in her eyes, like a deer eyeing a wolf. She’s polite and respectful, dutifully calling him honorifics and obeying commands, but Leon isn’t fooled. 

There is snow in the air as he makes her run through an obstacle course. After all, not every mission she’s sent on is going to have pristine weather. She’s miserable, he can tell even from afar. She trudges through the snow, hauling herself over wooden walls, leaping over logs, and swinging from a rope. By the time she practically collapses over the finish line, her ears and nose are tinged red from the cold, and he can see her breath in the cold winter air. 

“You took too long,” he said plainly, checking his stopwatch. “You took nearly five minutes, you can’t pass unless you do it in under two.”

The girl is panting, trying to regain her breath. She glances at Leon, a look of annoyance plastered clear on her face. “Fuck off” she wheezes, and a bead of sweat rolls down her forehead. 

Leon can’t help but laugh at her crass words. He remembers how difficult it is, trudging through the snow or mud through the finish line. He’s lost count of how many times he’s done this over the years, how many times Krauser pushed him until he was at wit's end. Leon doesn’t want to be a cruel footnote in the history of her life. He doesn’t want her to look back on this chapter of her life with disdain as she remembers him. Leon isn’t sure of what he wants, or what he needs to give up to admit what he suspects deep down. He shakes his head, trying to push any conflicting feelings down deep inside him, burying this fleeting hesitation along with the rest of his hopes, dreams, and suppressed emotions. Leon isn’t here to get sentimental, he’s here to make sure this rookie doesn’t get murdered on her first mission. 

“One more time” he orders, looking away from her and back over to the snow-covered course. “After that, you can take a break,” Leon adds, almost hesitantly. He shouldn’t be soft with her, but as her face lights up at the prospect of being able to rest, he can’t help but feel his heart flutter with a palpitation of happiness. He watches as she takes off once more, a newfound sense of energy overtaking her as she maneuvers the course. Leon can’t help but feel mesmerized as he watches her in a trance-like state, a surge of pride washing over him as she sprints over the last obstacle, gasping for breath as she crosses the finish line. 

“One minute and forty-six seconds,” he said, stopping the timer as she smiled triumphantly. 

“Nice to know your reward motivated, perhaps from here on out I’ll carry a little bag of treats for you,” he snarks, a smile tugging on the corner of his lips as she rolls her eyes at him.

“Woof” she responds dryly, “Now I believe I was promised a break?”

Leon nods, smiling to himself as he leads her towards the concrete building. “Let’s go rookie, I’m pretty sure the dining hall made hot chocolate,” he says.

“Is it good?” she asks, trailing after him.

“Not at all,” he admits. She laughs, throwing her head back as she does so. Leon can’t help but stop in his tracks, admiring her beauty as the snow falls around them.

__________________

It’s a quiet night, far too quiet for Leon’s liking. It’s the kind of silence that puts him on edge, reminiscent of a calm before the storm. He knows deep down he’s safe in this military facility, that there is no monster lurking in the dark shadows of his room, but he can’t bring himself to fully believe it. He tosses and turns in a light slumber, waking up in a cold sweat, heart racing and mouth agape. Nights like these aren’t uncommon; he's used to waking up in a panic. Not even in sleep can he escape the ghosts of his past, the terror that has plagued him for years. The line between nightmare and reality doesn’t exist for him, and he dreads the prospect of sleeping again. He pushes himself out of bed, his body aching from the thin mattress as he throws on a random t-shirt. He ran out of his hidden liquor supply a few weeks ago, but perhaps the kitchen has something that could calm his nerves. Leon feels weak admitting that alcohol is one of the few things that allows him to temporarily forget his trauma. He’s a man on a mission as he slinks through the halls of the base, careful to be quiet. He’d hate to have to explain to a commanding officer why he was out at this time. Sorry about that General, I was just looking for some spare booze cause I had a nightmare! That’d go over well. The kitchen is unlocked and seemingly abandoned as he peeks his head in, making a beeline to the cupboards. Lady Luck is on his side as he finds a small bottle of Jack Daniel’s. Bingo. The sound of sniffling startles him, shooting his head up to see the rookie curled up by a window, moonlight pouring down over her as she meets his gaze.

“What are you doing here at this hour?” Leon asked, trying to keep a fragment of authority in his voice. It comes out cracking, his voice still husky from sleep and raw with emotions.

“Couldn’t sleep,” she says, wiping at her eyes. “You?”

“Tried to sleep, didn’t go over well,” he mumbled, grabbing two glasses. “Care for a glass?” he asks, already pouring one for her. He knows the answer.

“Please” she mutters, rubbing her forehead. Leon knows this look all too well. He pours them both a hefty shot, placing a glass in front of her as he takes the opposing seat to her. The rookie grabs the glass, swirling its contents around as she drinks deeply. 

“I can tell you want to say something, might as well get it off your chest,” he offers, drinking from his cup. When he was in the academy Leon used to hate straight liquor. It burned his throat and made his eyes water, stinging on the way down. Now, Leon enjoyed the burn, it reminded him he could still feel. He didn’t even flinch any more as he drank it. 

“You wouldn’t understand,” the rookie sighs. Leon can see that her eyes are glassy and bloodshot, with heavy bags under her eyes.

“I might be the only one who does,” he countered.

The rookie doesn’t say anything at first, just looking at him with a haunted expression. “I had to shoot my friend,” she said, turning her gaze to the window. The moonlight shines down on her, casting her in an ethereal glow.  “One of those infected bit her, tore a chunk right out of her arm. She swore up and down that she was fine, but after a little bit she had to sit down,” she paused, pursing her lips as she got lost in the memory. “I was holding her hand when she died, was with her to the end. But then she came back, thought maybe I was going crazy, that maybe God was looking out for me. Then she looked at me with those pale dead eyes and lunged at me. Had to put a bullet in her head.” The girl tensed, a tear rolling down her cheek.

“You did the right thing,” Leon assured her. The rookie doesn’t look very convinced, just shaking her head.  “I had to shoot my boss,” he murmured in exchange. “First day on the force back in ‘98, I was wandering the halls of the Racoon City police department when I found him. Never even got a proper chance to meet him, everything had gone to shit by the time I had arrived,” he paused to chuckle dryly. “His name was Marvin, only knew him for a few hours, but he died saving me. I wouldn’t be here without him.” Leon paused, feeling a lump in his throat. He quickly took a sip of his whiskey, not wanting to cry in front of her. “He turned too and came back as one of those creatures. Had to shoot him, right in the head,” he sighed, feeling his eyes dampen with tears.

 “Sometimes I think about all the ways I could have helped him, how maybe if I had just done something differently he would still be alive. God, maybe if I had gotten there sooner I could have saved more people..” he trailed off, realizing he was rambling.

 He clears his throat as he notices she is staring at him, a pitiful look on his face. No, it wasn't pity. Leon was far too familiar with pity, he faces it damn near every day. He can hear their hushed whispers in the office as they huddle around the water cooler, casting glances at him as he passes by. His story is infamous in the agencies he visits. Leon isn’t some fabled hero or even a person. He’s a tragedy that people love to revisit. He can’t let the past die, not when it’s become so woven into his sense of self. The girl doesn’t regard him in pity, but rather a look of mutual sorrow and misery. She doesn’t try to dab at her tears as they begin to fall more freely. 

“It was my fault my friend died,” she said, her voice thick with choked-back sobs. “I was the one who had dragged her to that game, where they released the virus,” she sniffles. “It was chaos, the stampede to leave the arena must have been worse than the infected. All you could hear was screaming, an endless roar of it. All I could focus on was her hand, gripping it to make sure she didn’t get lost in the sea of people. We were both so hopped up on adrenaline we didn’t even notice she had gotten bit,” she had to pause to take a deep breath, and regain her composure. 

“Swat team had come, every police officer in the county too,” she shakes her head as if trying to get rid of the memory. “Not that it made much of a difference, pretty sure most of them perished in the end. I grabbed a gun off of a fallen cop, and the two of us managed to get away from the crowd.” Her face scrunches up as she recounts the night. “If I hadn’t made her go, she’d maybe still be alive.”

“It’s not your fault she died,” Leon said softly, hesitating before reaching his hand out to grasp hers. “We can’t ponder on the what-ifs, at least that’s what I read in one of those psychology magazines.” This makes her chuckle, her lips curling into a small smile as their eyes meet. It’s a strange way to bond, trauma dumping in the middle of the night, but it feels as if a weight has been lifted off his shoulders, making it a little easier to breathe.  Moonlight drapes over them and Leon wishes he could freeze time. 

______

Gunshots cut through the silence as Leon observes the rookie shoot. Her brow is furrowed with determination, a scowl on her lips as attempts to shoot the targets in the head. Body shots at best might stun an infected, and probably won’t do jackshit against a larger mutated beast. Headshots guarantee damage to some extent at least. Her posture is perfect—confident, determined—but there's a flicker of something else in her eyes, something that catches his attention. Anger, maybe? Or frustration? The gunshot rings out again. Another headshot. The cluster of bullets digs deep into the skull of her target, her scowl morphing into a satisfied smirk at the small victory. 

“Not bad,” Leon said, a strange sense of pride welling in his chest.  “You know your way around a gun.” She pauses, lowering the weapon as she turns to look at him. Her expression shifts into something he can’t quite place.

“Thanks, the only thing my dad ever taught me,” she said, huffing a dry laugh. “Hated it at the moment, but I suppose I’m thankful now.” Her words are flippant although her body has tensed up.

“Didn’t get along so well I take it?” Leon questioned, cocking an eyebrow as he leaned against the wall. He can feel a familiar pang in his chest, the tug of commissary. 

“That would be an understatement,” she rolls her eyes, Leon watches her carefully as she clicks the safety on and places the pistol on the table, her fingers lingering on the cool metal for just a fraction of a second too long.

“He was better than some fathers... but looks like I got served a helping of daddy issues anyway. He died a few years back, sometimes I’m almost thankful he passed before..” she trails off, gesturing to the room. Her words hang in the air between them, far more intimate than she probably intended. Leon stays silent for a moment longer than usual, not because he doesn’t know what to say, but because he’s unsure if he should say anything. There's a softness in her voice he didn’t expect. He struggles to remember his father, his family was taken from him when he was little. Sometimes if he tries hard enough he can see flashes of his face and feel the warmth of his embrace. But that’s all they are. Flashes of his past.

“I get it. Doesn’t always go the way we want, does it?” Her gaze flickers over to him, catching his eyes for just a moment, and that’s when Leon feels the change in the air. The weight of the conversation lingers, and the quiet moments stretch longer between them than either of them is comfortable with.

“It never does,” she says at last, sighing as she combed her fingers through her hair. “What about you? You close with your old man?”

“Old man died along with the rest of my family when I was a kid,” Leon says with a shake of his head. He pauses, searching through the distant memories as he tries to recall what his father was like. “I don’t have any bad memories of him, but don’t have many good ones either. He’s more of a feeling that haunts me.” The rookie just looks at him with an unreadable expression, as if she’s scanning his face. 

“I guess we’re both haunted,” she says at last, breaking the silence between them. Leon can’t help but feel his lips tug into a smile. Vulnerability is not something that comes easily to him these days. It’s a weakness, something that can be used against him. Open yourself up too much and people are bound to steal bits and pieces from you. However, around the rookie, Leon can’t help but feel his walls weakening, baring his scars to her. He knows he should feel terrified to let anyone see the broken pieces of him, but all he can feel is relief that someone can see the real him.

_________

Leon can feel his heart in his throat as he sits down in Hunnigan’s office. It’s like a lump he can’t swallow, his esophagus tightening as if he’s about to choke. He knows why he was called here and it’s a moment he has been dreading since the rookie was assigned to him. He watches silently as his friend and colleague flips through the reports that he has provided on her, updates on her training and progress. The decision to send her into the field. To risk her life, to trust her on missions that could end in bloodshed or worse. He watches, almost disassociated, as Hunnigan flips through the reports on her progress.

“Everything looks good. Excellent, even,” she says, her voice smooth, confident. She adjusts her glasses, casting a rare smile in his direction. “You must feel proud.”

He just shrugs, unable to calm the nervousness swelling in his stomach.  “I’m ecstatic,” he grumbles gruffly. He knows he’s being rude, she’s congratulating him on doing his job. He trained her and turned her from a survivor to an agent deemed worthy of missions. But Leon hates the idea of her out there in the field, risking her life. Too many what-ifs float through his mind, the unpredictability of their line of work fueling doomsday scenarios in his head. 

Hunnigan doesn’t miss the bite in his tone. She glances up, her brow furrowing in mild concern, but she doesn’t push. Instead, she returns her focus to the papers in front of her, her fingers tapping lightly against the desk.

“I’m sure she’s ready,” he mutters under his breath, but it doesn’t sound convincing, even to himself. Leon’s hands twitch, itching to grab something—anything—to release the frustration building inside him. He can feel his stomach twisting into knots, and the air feels too thick to breathe.

“Leon, you did everything you could,” she says, her tone more measured now. “You trained her. You gave her the tools. Now, it’s up to her.”

Leon huffs, running a hand through his hair in frustration. His jaw clenches. “Yeah? And what happens when it’s not enough? When the situation’s too much for her? You know how unpredictable this job is. I know how unpredictable this job is.”

He stands up abruptly, pacing in front of her desk, every step fueled by the tight knot of anger and fear in his gut. His voice rises, rough with emotion. “ I didn’t sign up to watch her get torn apart, to watch everyone I fucking care about die!” hd snaps. “I did it…to protect people, to save lives. How many lives have been lost because of me? Because of my failures?” His voice trails off, the anger morphing into bitter sorrow.  Finally, he grits his teeth and mutters, “I’m not letting her get killed out there.”

Hannigan smiles faintly, but it’s not one of triumph. More like understanding. “Then trust her, Leon. She’s ready. And she’ll prove it to you.”

He opens his mouth, ready to argue again, but something in her expression stops him. With a sharp exhale, he takes a seat again, tension still coiled in every muscle. It will be different this time. 

________

It’s a quiet night, one of those rare peaceful moments that Leon always savors.  Tonight was supposed to be a celebration, a recognition of the hard work and training that had earned her a spot among the rest of them. She had passed, she was ready for missions, ready for the chaos and carnage that came with this job. And yet, all Leon could think about was the heavy weight of what that meant: ready to die.  He takes another gulp of whiskey, the burn settling somewhere in his chest. He had taken her to a nearby bar, and it by no means was an elegant establishment. The decor was dated and dusty with the patrons even more so. Leon couldn’t help but find it charming, however.

She’s sitting across from him, smiling, talking about the future, trying to hide her quelling nerves. The dim lights of the bar cast shadows over her face, her body swaying slightly as she tapped her finger along to the beat of the old jazz music that permeated from the dusty jukebox in the corner. She sips at her beer, glancing at him from the corner of her eyes as she notices him staring at her. 

“Do I have something on my face?” she asks, suddenly self-conscious as her hand rises to dab at her lips. 

He shakes his head, his lips tugging into an easy smile. “Do you want to dance?” he asks suddenly, his voice low and steady, almost like he wasn’t giving himself the chance to second-guess it. Her eyes widened a fraction in surprise. He hadn’t been one to make impulsive moves, especially with her. Still, there’s something in the way she holds her gaze that makes his stomach flutter. A chuckle escapes her, and she leans back slightly in her chair, putting on a dramatic sigh. 

“Smooth,” she teases, but she doesn’t hesitate. She slides her palm into his, letting him pull her up with a small, amused shake of her head. “But I guess I’ll accept.”

“I’m hurt,” Leon says, gasping in mock offense as he pulls her gently toward the dance floor. 

“And here I thought we had something special!” He spins her around as he pulls her close to him, hands resting on her waist as they sway to the beat.  A soft laugh bubbles out of her, warm and light, before she looks up at him, the playfulness in her eyes softening for just a moment. 

“We do,” she says quietly, her voice taking on an almost shy edge. “I don’t think I’ve been able to properly thank you for everything you’ve done for me.”

The words hit him like a sudden gust of wind. Leon pauses, his heart skipping a beat. “Don’t mention it,” he says with a smile. His hand tightens slightly around hers, but he doesn’t let go. “You’re a damn good agent. You’ve earned everything.”

She doesn’t respond right away. Her eyes are focused on his face now, as if in a trance. His breath catches in his chest, and for a moment, the music around them seems to fade into a dull hum. It’s just the two of them now, dancing slowly, the rhythm of their steps matching the thudding pulse in his own heart.

Her hands slide up his arms, fingers brushing the edges of his shoulders as she pulls him into an embrace,  He can feel the warmth of her body, the soft thumping of her heart against him. Leon’s own heart picks up speed, not used to such physical displays of genuine affection. 

The distance between them feels like it’s finally being bridged. Something unspoken lingers in the air, a fragile tension that neither of them can ignore anymore. His hands find her waist, and he pulls her just a little closer, feeling the slight hitch in her breath as she melts into him.

She stays quiet for a moment, her body moving gently with his, the music guiding their movements. 

“Leon,” she whispers, her voice low but sincere, “I don’t think I ever said it, but… I trust you. More than anyone.” A lump forms in his throat, and he closes his eyes for a second, steadying himself. He pulls back just a bit, enough to look into her eyes. 

“You don’t have to say it,” he says, his voice soft. “I know.” The space between them, once filled with the unspoken tension of their roles, seems to vanish. And in that moment, Leon realizes that it’s not just trust they share—it’s something deeper, something neither of them had been willing to acknowledge until now. Her hand rises to his chest, pressing against his heart as their faces draw nearer. The soft glow of the bar lights paints everything in shades of amber, casting them in a haze of fleeting warmth.

“Leon,” she murmurs again, her voice barely a breath against his lips. He doesn’t need her to finish the sentence. He can feel it in the way her body trembles just slightly as she leans in, her lips so close to his that he can almost taste the moment. Without thinking, he closes the distance between them, the kiss soft and gentle, all things Leon isn’t used to. It’s a slow realization, a gradual unfolding of something neither of them had anticipated—but something that feels right. The world outside this quiet moment fades away. All that’s left is the warmth that Leon has been seeking for so long.

_________________

Everything has gone to hell. It started decently enough, a typical case of a B.O.W that had been released into the public, stirring up terror. It all went wrong so fast. An explosion rattles through the air, and Leon can feel the heat from the flames, the force pushing him back, falling onto the pavement. The pain from the impact is forgotten as he hears her scream. His heart stops beating as he forces himself up, finding a new sense of adrenaline as he races to where the creature has her cornered. It's one hell of a genetic fuck-up, a big hulking beast with withered skin that looks like it’s been burnt. Elongated limbs drag on the ground as it skulks toward her, bony claws decorating the tips. Its gnashing teeth are aimed at ripping into her throat, the beast's mouth is already stained with blood. Leon can’t think straight, the only thing in his mind is her. He races as fast as his strained legs can carry him, a wild frantic look in his eyes as he raises his gun to aim. The creature has her in its grip, its mutated hand grabbing her by the throat, threatening to crush her windpipe as it dangles her above the pavement. 

“No!” Leon cries out, feeling as though his entire world might shatter. Her legs are twitching and kicking, eyes bulging out of her skull as she opens her mouth in a vain attempt to suck in even a breath of air. Leon aims and sends a cluster of bullets towards its skull. The beast roars in pain, flinging the girl against the pavement as it lumbers towards him. Leon grits his teeth as he sends more bullets flying toward it, and by some sheer luck, one manages to go right through its eye. He breathes out a sigh of relief as it finally stumbles forward, succumbing to the fatal blow. His victory is short-lived though, his eyes falling on the rookie. She still hasn’t moved, remaining limp on the cold cement. Leon kneels beside her, ignoring the pain from his own aching body as he gently cradles her in his arms. She is pliable and unmoving, like a ragdoll in his arms as he brings her to his chest. Her lips are tinged blue from lack of oxygen and her neck is inflamed from the strangulation, but Leon breathes out a sigh of relief as his fingers find her pulse, a steady thump emanating from her. As the chaos fades away, reinforcements finally arrive at the scene, Leon holds her in his arms, unwilling to let go. A medic approaches, trailed by a pair of agents. 

"Please," he bemoans, trying to quell the fear in his heart as the medic kneels down beside him, gently taking the girl from his arms. He watches intently, trying to ignore the growing tightness in his chest. She was hurt. He hadn't been enough to protect her and she had gotten hurt. He feels tears prick in the corners of his eyes and he has to remind himself that he is being watched and judged right now. Leon forces himself to remain stoic, however on the inside, he can't help but lament that he failed her. 

____________

The days following the mission were quiet. Leon had invited her to rest in his apartment, not trusting those bastards to give her the proper time to recover. It was strange having another person in his space, hell, he wasn’t used to having his own space. The apartment was a place he felt he hardly spent time in, being shipped around at the government's whim. It was nice to have something in his name though, and even nicer to have someone share it with him. The rookie made his sterile apartment feel more like a home than it ever had before. Leon fell into the role of caretaker quickly, letting her rest in his bed as he brought her tea for her throat and helped bandage her wounds. She would lament, saying she wasn’t dead yet and could care for herself, rolling her eyes playfully whenever he poked his head in to check on her. He couldn’t help himself though, part of him was still in shock that she was alive, that she had come out of that mission with her heart still beating. Leon knew his feelings weren’t strictly platonic, not after the kiss they had shared at the bar, not after the soul-sucking fear he had felt after cradling her limp body amidst the aftermath of the chaos. Feelings were a luxury he hadn’t let himself indulge in in years. This isn't lust, he knows that much. Lust is like a quelling fire that burns in his gut, one that’s hot and heavy and must be put out lest he be driven mad. No, how he feels is not a burning passion, but a steady flame, like laying by a crackling hearth and letting the warmth wash over him. As he looks into her eyes, he feels as if he is home. Leon isn’t sure if he has ever experienced love, but he imagines that this is what it feels like. 

One evening as they are sitting on the edge of his bed, only half paying attention to a movie he had rented, he turns to look at her, feeling his chest swell with that warm fuzzy emotion again. He doesn’t have to put up a facade of strength and bravery, a performance of a loyal government agent. With her, she sees him for what he is. A scared broken man. Leon can’t afford to be vulnerable very often, neither of them could, but perhaps for now they could both step out of their protective shells and be who they are.

“I love you,” he says suddenly, mesmerized by her. She turns to meet his gaze, eyes wide in surprise. She doesn’t say anything at first, the silence deafening as Leon starts to wonder if perhaps this was a mistake. 

“I love you too,” she finally admits, her hand reaching for his as he meets her halfway, tenderly holding hands as if they were a pair of schoolchildren in the playground. Leon can feel his heart swell, his mind growing fuzzy as he tries to wrap his head around this feeling. Relationships are impractical in this line of work, and he can’t be certain of his future, much less one he could have with her. To calm the flood of emotions that are coursing through him he does the only thing he knows that can calm him. He lurches forward like a man possessed, crashing his lips to hers as his hand comes up to clasp his face, her palm gently grasping his cheek as if he was a piece of treasure that might slip through her fingers less she is too rough. It’s an odd feeling, to be cherished Leon thinks to himself as he kisses her. He doesn’t think of himself as worthy enough to be cherished, to be loved at all. In his mind, he is unworthy, just a broken man who isn’t sure of what exactly he is doing, not used to making his own choices in life. But as the kiss grows more heated, Leon can only think of one thing he wants to do. To worship the woman he loves.

Leon falls to his knees before her. He doesn’t believe in God, not anymore at least. But as he looks up at her angelic face, he imagines this is what God’s love must feel like; warm and comforting, ever-present as he feels the adoration inside of him, seeping into his bone marrow. She spreads open her thighs and Leon doesn’t hesitate to close the gap between them. His tongue is pressed flat against her core, licking a steady stripe up her slit. He can’t tell if it's her musky sweet scent that makes him feel as though he has been electrocuted or the way she parts her lips and moans, but the feeling shoots straight to his groin. 

“Don’t hold back angel, I want to hear you sing” he murmurs into her folds, pressing kisses to her clit as she arches her back as he wraps his lips around the sensitive bundle of nerves. He buries his face into her core, her legs twitching as they wrap around his head, pulling him in closer. She’s whimpering and moaning as Leon has his mouth around her clit, tongue swirling around it as he slowly sinks a finger into her. The tightness is warm and wet and Leon can’t help but groan at the feeling. He sinks his finger into the knuckle before pulling out, slowly easing another one into her. He pauses as she adjusts to the feeling, holding still to simply bask in the way she looks. Mouth open, frozen in wanton pleasure as she starts to squirm, a silent plea for him to continue. Leon happily obliged, building up a steady pace with fingers, the room echoing with a mixture of her moans and the squelching of her arousal. His fingers thrust into her at an angle, finding that special spongy spot as her breaths came out in pants. Leon couldn’t help but feel a smirk tug at his lips as he began to repeat his motions, watching in awe as her chest heaved and her stomach tightened. A few quick kitten licks to her clit had her throwing back her head, her fingers entangling themselves in his hair. As she comes undone, he continues to work her through her orgasm, fingers finally slipping out as he pulls his face back, his chin glossy with her arousal. He crawls up her body, running a hand along the curves of her face as he presses his lips to hers and he can’t help but melt into her. She is everything he is not, and he feels as though he has found a missing piece of his soul.

“I love you,” Leon murmurs, breaking away to gaze into her eyes. He can’t bring himself to care about the ramifications of his actions, the potential discourse of his admission of affection. At this moment, he is not an agent, he’s just a man in love. 

“I love you too,” the rookie whispers back, reaching up and placing a chaste kiss on his lips. Leon groans softly, feeling all too aware of his growing desire. The rookie reaches up, wrapping her arms around his neck, and pulls him back to her. 

“I’m ready if you are,” she says, her lips ghosting over his ear. Leon suppresses a shudder as meets her lips in a kiss, his free hand grasping the base of his cock as he runs in through her slick folds. With a groan he slowly sinks into her, the warmth enveloping him as he loses himself to her. He stills for a moment, the pair basking in the feeling of becoming one before Leon slowly starts to thrust, pulling out before gently thrusting back up into her. A whine leaves his mouth before he can stop it, the pleasure is all-consuming as he keeps up a gentle thrust. Her arms cling to him, a hand trailing down his back. Leon can’t tell where he ends and where she begins, all he can feel is the tightening of his stomach, his pace becoming more erratic as the coil inside him grows taut. He raises her thigh, pulling back slightly to worm a hand between the two of them, his calloused finger on her clit as he massages it, building up the pace until he can feel her clench around him, her whines and moans growing to a high pitch. Leon watches as her body begins to shake against him, a bead of sweat rolling down his forehead as he waits for her to finish.  It’s a beautiful sight to watch her come undone against him, her cheeks flushed and eyes glassy. With a final grunt, he pulls out, his hip bucking upward into his hand as cums on her stomach, his body shaking from the feeling.

He falls beside her, his hair plastered to his sweaty forehead, his chest heaving from exertion. His arms wrap around her, pulling her close to him as he closes his eyes and presses a kiss to her temple. There are no words to be said. The night will soon end and it will be a new day. Leon isn’t sure what the future holds for them as their lives are not theirs to control. If he could freeze time he would spend an eternity like this, pressed up against her, frozen in a kiss until the end of time. Leon couldn’t think of a more beautiful existence. 

Note: I hope you've enjoyed this! Posting makes me nauseous lol. If there are any errors I apologize!

Tag:@tarantulasnot

[bonnibuckets]

GRRRAAAHHHHHH I LOVED THIS

[bonnibuckets]

hey pookie….

heyyy

[kittenheeled]

STARRY-EYED!

MDNI: leon kennedy x fem!reader

word count. 4.5k

cws. puppy hybrids, p in v, knotting, creampie, breeding, rebecca & billy are married because i push that agenda 25/8, humping, heats, mentions of spaying/experimentation

note. this is the first fic without dark content that i’ve written in a minute so pls bear with me if it’s mid lmao. not proofread but we ball!!

taglist. @argreion , @d10nyx , @sqiim , @shiawaseorii , @valslullaby , @dollita-fawn , @arminsbf , @fairry1 , @localkiss , @angelstargel , @littlemissloser

You weren’t an old girl. Really. Jaded, sure, but not old. Not yet. Jaded was the way anyone would end up in your old uniform. Rose-tinted glasses tend to fall off when head scratches are replaced by police drills. On paper, you were in the prime of your life — this was the strongest you’d be, the healthiest you’d be, the sharpest you’d be. But something within you couldn’t help but be a homebody after so many years in the RPD.

You were a police dog, born and bred. Hybrids today were as much of a craze as they were a controversy, but in your time, your use was strictly professional. Private experimentation and sacrilege surrounded your birth in the absence of loving fervor — your embryo was lab-crafted, perfectly manufactured to give you a canine’s senses and a human’s mind. You’d joined the force while you were still a pup, ate from the chief’s hand, and slept in one of the locker rooms. And you were a damn good cop. The best of ‘em. You had to be — until a gunshot wound to the knee rendered you achy and less mobile than required for the force.

There were thousands of embryos that perished before you, but you were amongst the first to survive — to prevail — and now, you spent your days barking at people outside and napping with your cheek on Billy’s thigh. It wasn’t a bad life. Far from it. But it wasn’t your life. That left you somewhere between puppy and midlife, suddenly purposeless and painfully awkward when you tried to find one for yourself.

Still, you hadn’t processed it as a bad thing — just how you were. It’d been two years since your discharge — two years of sleeping in at the foot of your owners’ bed and cushy vet visits. Comfort was still largely foreign to you, and the affection often advertised with modern hybrids had seemed to wedge itself out of your DNA. Perhaps intentionally. No point in a coddling police dog. You weren’t manufactured to cuddle up to criminals. But it didn’t really occur to you that Rebecca wanted you to feel like you were natural until your second annual checkup.

She’d chatted away with the vet as you’d zoned out, about the circumstances of your adoption and the sharpness of your canines. You’d heard it a million times over – first flattered, then offended, now indifferent. Your floppy ears didn’t perk up till you heard the word puppies, suddenly tilting your head to the side in confusion. The vet raised an eyebrow, chuckling at your abrupt interest. 

“Yeah, puppies. You’re not pregnant, are you?”

You had to resist curling your lip into a snarl at the idea, wrinkling your nose instead – shaking your head out of sheer pettiness. You saved your voice for people who didn’t ask you questions like that. For people who didn’t look dumbfounded by your reaction.

“Is something wrong?” Rebecca chimed in, instinctively shifting closer to you – as if you needed protection from the vet, and as if you weren’t more capable of protecting her. You locked eyes with the vet as she shook her head, folding her arms like you were a disease. 

“Just never seen that from a hybrid before,” she chuckled – albeit manually. “You’ve not been spayed, have you?”

Rebecca shook her head instantly, face soured in fervent distaste. “Gosh, never,” she said, drawing out the never as long as she could without starting a fight. You huffed in relief when the vet took the information in stride – for as long as she’d known you, she’d advocated for rights you’d never really considered having. She’d threatened to quit a few years back when some of the higher-ups had insisted on sterilization. They’d accepted that they’d needed a medic more than you’d needed surgery, so she’d gotten her way. Heat cycles were annoying, but you’d ultimately appreciated the gesture enough to come home with her a couple years later without a fight. She still got real stubborn when she fought – but now, any sign of her distress made the fur on your back stand up straight. That included spats at the vet’s office.

“Suppose I’m just surprised. Hybrids this young normally jump at the opportunity,” she shrugged, reaching to rub behind one of your ears. You allowed it for a couple of seconds, overtaken by thought. She had a point; canine hybrids were natural sluts. Especially puppies. Males would pop a knot half the time just by looking at you – back when you were around hybrids enough to see males, anyway. Puppies in heat fucked worse than the bunnies you’d seen on occasion. You’d never known if it was intentional – if they’d intended for you to breed like a bitch, or if heats were just a side effect they couldn’t quite weed out, but you did know that you weren’t quite exempt. You’d just gotten good at self-control – a pillow between your thighs and a hand clamped over your mouth worked well enough. You kept yourself pent-up enough for it to suffice.

“Well, she’s at the age where it would be best for her to have puppies – hybrids just typically wind up pregnant before then. Does she have any friends with them?” the vet continued, and Rebecca shook her head immediately. Not like she had to count; you didn’t have any friends.

“No, she’s always been more interested in my husband and I. She usually growls at other hybrids,” Rebecca laughed, and you nodded in affirmation. Other hybrids were threats before they were friends – and you’d not found one to be a viable friend. But the vet hadn’t shared your amusement.

The vet went on that day, about social delays and anxiety and some other bullshit you’d angrily ignored. You’d tried to dismiss it. Puppies were ridiculous. Friends were ridiculous. You would look ridiculous, inserted into that life. You’d assumed that she’d dismissed it, too, out of courtesy – if nothing else. But she hadn’t, and that’s what led to him.

In the middle of your foyer sat a floppy-eared puppy hybrid, tail thumping against the carpet at the sight of you. You growled when Rebecca crouched beside him, waiting to lunge if he got any closer to your owner – and luckily, he’d cowered immediately, knowing his place before you had to spell it out for him. You straightened up in pride, brow furrowing when you were scolded rather than praised.

“Calm down, alright? This is Leon – he’s here to live with us,” Rebecca introduced him, drawing her words out as she coaxed him to come closer. And he did, albeit a little slower than before – eyeing you with caution. You growled again at the prospect; he flinched like clockwork.

You sat on your haunches, completely dumbfounded – jaw slightly agape as you looked from him, to her, to him again. “Why?” you asked, throat dry, words hoarser than you’d anticipated – weaker than you’d ever be comfortable with. Shock was seldom felt by you, and you were less than pleased to waste it on a stray.

(The stray in question was well-groomed, freshly collared, and wet behind the ears — but you wanted him to be a stray enough to disregard that.)

“He’s your friend,” she said, as if your distaste was absurd. You might’ve insulted him in response if glaring at him hadn’t preoccupied you. As if your efforts would compel him to turn and run away forever. He was cute enough. Probably could get by batting those pretty blues and whining on welcome mats. That’s likely what had lured Rebecca in to begin with – she was never very good at avoiding something that needed to be taken care of. You leaned in close enough to make him back away on instinct – except, his instincts didn’t work quite right, and he stayed right in place, ears perking up like you were trying to play. Either he had an IQ of 5 or a memory span of 5 seconds. Bottom of the food chain. Maybe he was beyond Rebecca’s help.

Seeing that you weren’t going to respond, she sighed, patting down one of the blond cowlicks on his head. He was cute, sure, but even that pissed you off. Your owners weren’t supposed to be the type to adopt puppies sat nicely in pet store windows. Straight from the breeding mill – one of the hybrid ones that had faced the scorn of the city paper lately. You assumed that Leon’s idea of hardship was being weaned too early. He didn’t belong in the same room as you, as Rebecca, or as Billy as he stepped in – to your relief.

Billy took in the sight of Leon, blinking in disbelief – mouthing something to Rebecca. You couldn’t really make it out, but you doubted that he could, either. Something akin to ‘Why is there another one in my foyer?’ with a dash of ‘We’ve talked about this.’ She bit her lip, looking at him to avoid looking at Leon.

“He was picked to fill her old position in the RPD a few months ago,” she explained, nodding to him, then to you – like she was trying to connect you two already. “But they got rid of the program. It’s banned to use hybrids in the workplace.”

Admittedly, you knew that was a good thing, but you still visibly scowled. You hadn’t been paid, hadn’t been allowed rest during the day, and worked longer shifts than everyone – without being recognized as an employee. Shit was exhausting. First thing you did when you were adopted was curl up and sleep for thirty hours straight. You couldn’t tell if you were jealous that Leon had gotten out young and unscathed, or if you just wanted him out of your house. 

“So why is he here?” Billy asked, voice laden with the sort of judgment that made you smile. Not for too long – Leon smiled when you smiled, so you forced your brow to furrow and your canines to reveal themselves. As if you’d actually bite him – you’d get scolded, and he’d probably taste like the RPD.

You’d hoped he’d still put his foot down, that he’d send him back to whatever section of the RPD he’d been kicked from with a note and five bucks tied to his collar, but he didn’t. Even though you’d been a hard sell when Rebecca first brought you home. Owning a hybrid meant sharing your space with something between a puppy and a coworker. Said a lot about a person, he used to say – before you’d shown up with a limp and nowhere to go. You were a special case, he still justified. You weren’t the sort of hybrid that pissed in the house and played with rubber balls. You lazed next to him when he turned on the television and could hold a discussion about the military.

But Rebecca had real pretty eyes. So did Leon, but Billy could’ve cared less about that. So they fluffed up a bed for him, right next to yours – even though yours had fallen out of use when they’d allowed you to curl up at the foot of theirs – and ordered a collar with their address. His address, now.

For the first time in months, you were kicked to your actual bed for the night. Not that you stayed. You sulked over by the door — beyond whining and pawing for their attention, but not above eavesdropping. You knew them well enough to know that when they laid down, Billy would say something about how you should be at the end of the bed, and Rebecca would sigh and turn on the light. And you were right — a soft glow in the crack of the door was your cue to spy.

You ended up zoning out most of their conversation. Bad habit. Your hearing had dulled a little after a lifetime of bullets whirring past your ears, and it was too late to bother with the mumbled parts behind the door. But after the initial excuses of Leon’s need for shelter, you caught the underlying reason behind his adoption: you.

“She’s fine,” Billy argued — and you would’ve argued with him, if not for the door. And your exclusion. “We hang out every night. Seems socialized to me.”

“Hybrids are supposed to play, Billy, not follow the lottery,” Rebecca sighed. “She’s still here, I just don’t want her missing out. Wouldn’t it be lonely, not knowing how to socialize with people like you?”

You had to step away when you heard that, irritated beyond belief. Back to square one. You’d thought they’d moved past taking pity on you. You didn’t take pity on yourself. All socializing with other hybrids led to was puppies and chase. You made the viewpoint apparent when Leon padded down the hall to follow you – turning away before he could get a word in.

The days passed, and your schedule reconstructed itself to fit him. Not that you welcomed the flexibility.

You used to get up at your leisure; now, Leon pawed at you till you opened your eyes around nine. The second you sat up, he moved to lick your cheek or nip at your ear or some other puppy bullshit, and you’d snap your jaws, forcing him back long enough to blink the sleep out of your eyes. He’d glue himself back to your side at breakfast, wave goodbye to your owners alongside you as they left, try to nestle up to you during naps, and paw at you when you spaced out, and tug at your ears in some halfhearted attempt to get you to play with him. It never worked, just like his jokes never made you laugh, but Leon had a thing for trying the same thing repeatedly and expecting different results. He probably had a thing for you, too, but the thought of that made your nose wrinkle in revulsion – even if most of it was an exaggeration.

He liked Rebecca enough, and reciprocated the indifference Billy managed to offer him – but you were the primary object of his affection. He looked at you with a strange, unrequited fondness behind his pupils, and you couldn’t bring yourself to gaze back. Something to do with irritation. Pride, maybe. Rebecca condoned it readily – he’d not been around other hybrids before. (Neither had you, and you weren’t acting like that.) He was still a puppy, albeit an older one. (You didn’t act like that when you were a puppy.) Well, you were brought up differently. (You couldn’t retaliate that.)

Leon never really knew when to shut up, so you ended up learning just about everything there was to know about him. Granted, if you had your way, he’d never speak again, but you’d always take an occasional anecdote over his daily oversharing. He wasn’t brought up in a lab like you were – most of those puppies had gone off to actual homes, and most of those scientists now littered the spectrum between retirement and prison. Leon had a mama, at some point, but his dad made himself scarce shortly after he was born – sort of like how you wanted to. But his mama belonged to somebody who still didn’t want to admit their hybrid had been defiled, so he bounced between homes till he ended up in the RPD’s clutches, over a year after your injury and a couple months after the last hybrid’s retirement. 

You knew it was hardly a life to envy, but you still did. He’d been acquainted with the concepts of mamas and breastfeeding and friends. Even if it was brief. It wasn’t the sort of envy you felt comfortable admitting to yourself. It was the sort you forced your mind to redirect from. It hurt to think of the motherhood you were robbed of, just like it hurt imagine providing it. 

You didn’t recognize the underlying fondness you’d developed for Leon’s awkward clinginess until it suddenly stopped. Like the faucet had been switched off. You noticed it the morning you finally got to sleep in, not taking the opportunity without suspicion – following his scent to the hall closet.

“Leon?” you asked, after a moment of consideration – not wanting to disrupt your own peace. “You alright?”

“M’fine,” he answered quickly, like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar. You’d never cared for that tone. Heard it too many times during your days on the force. So you opened the door without knocking – because what the hell could he be doing in a hall closet?

Your hand froze against the knob as you stared at him, tears beaded at his waterline, pretty thighs settled on either side of one of your bed’s pillows as his fat cock rutted into the fabric. Your jaw fell agape as his did – though his was likely out of ecstasy rather than shock. You bit into your bottom lip, involuntarily wetting it with your tongue – noticing the way you were abruptly salivating. Even as your brain urged you to scold him for fucking your property, your body disallowed it, the words disintegrating in your throat. Heat pooled at the pit of your stomach as he tried to prevent the way his hips stuttered forward, muffling his leaky tip uselessly into the fabric.

Salivating over one cock didn’t make you a whore, you justified. And really, you weren’t. You’d only gotten dicked down once, some years before your adoption – and it’d been so underwhelming, you squirmed away before the knot could swell. It didn’t mean you stopped craving it – just meant you forced yourself to forget it. You weren’t pent-up, you’d repeat during heats, thighs squeezed around your aching cunt. You could control yourself better than that.

But it was a little harder to forget a cock as it wept for your attention, displayed prettily just beneath you. You came to the realization that he’d decided to isolate himself in heat, and blamed that for your shallow breaths and racing heart.

“Don’t be mad, m’sorry,” he started, forcing back a whine as his dick throbbed under your gaze. “Didn’t mean to, please–”

“Leon,” you sighed, as if you were a disappointed mother and not an abruptly cock-crazed whore, “I’m not mad…” Your words trailed off as you refused to commit yourself to the bit, skin hot. “Have you… dealt with this before? Being in heat, I mean.”

He nodded, ears going flat against his head as he made some attempt to cover himself, albeit with the same pillow. “Yeah, uh… yeah,” he cleared his throat, skin flushed. “They explained it to me when it happened at the station, ‘cause it was my first heat… just wasn’t this bad.”

“First one usually isn’t…” you muttered, more sympathetic of his circumstances than you’d been since his arrival. “It’s kind of silent, right? Inconvenient at worst. Doesn’t make you dizzy and sticky.”

Leon nodded, brow furrowed in slight confusion. Wasn’t like you to converse back. Wasn’t like you to get out of bed on your own, either – evidently, he’d relied on that a little too much, expecting you to stay asleep till his cock went soft. “Sorry,” he said again, words breathy and tone verging on a whine. “I couldn’t take it, didn’t wanna bother you, but your pillow smells like you, s’good–”

You raised a hand to cut him off, unsure what to do. On one hand, this most certainly wasn’t how Rebecca would want you to socialize with the new hybrid. New-ish. He’d been here long enough to map the rooms and the quickest ways to get treats. On the other hand, you were horny beyond belief. Horny enough for your clit to pulse faster than your heart. Your cunt stuck to the thin panties beneath your shirt, slick gathering between your thighs as you stood. Wasn’t this as good of a chance as any? Wasn’t it kind of you to help a puppy out during his first real heat? 

You came to the entirely unbiased decision that yes, it would be beneficial to him, slowly running your hand from his thinly-clothed abdomen to his v-line. Through the fabric, his skin remained hot to the touch, glued haphazardly to his stomach by a thinner layer of sweat. He yelped when your thumb grazed his hip, the pads of your fingers nearing his cock – staring up at you with wide eyes.

“Are you sure you wanna help me?” he asked tentatively, still unadjusted to your sudden tolerance. You nodded a little too eagerly, a little too much like him, a little too desperate to put much thought into it. He smiled, albeit briefly, and for once, you thought he looked prettier like that – half-lidded and blissed. 

So you let your hand fall flush against the pillow, fingers grazing his cock – watching another bead of precum dribble down the tip. You slid the pillow away, palming the base as the length slapped against his abdomen, leaking uselessly into his skin. You bit your lip as he whined, hips bucking forward as your grip solidified, desperate for the friction you’d briefly deprived him of as you considered your next course of action. You figured a handjob wouldn’t be enough to cool him off, and you didn’t particularly want to find out what cum tasted like – but it wasn’t a good idea to let him fuck you, as much as you wanted it. As much as he wanted it. 

But that didn’t mean he couldn’t almost fuck you.

“Stay still,” you muttered, tugging your panties down your thighs, stifling a grin when you heard his tail thump emphatically on the carpet behind him. At least your cunt was pretty. As much as puppy horniness vexed you, it was flattering, in its own right. So you parted your thighs a little wider, easing the plush of your ass onto his thighs, facing him as you sandwiched his throbbing cock between your folds. You had to pause with him for a moment, breath stilling in your lungs, thighs trembling against his.

“Fuck, just… just move,” you panted. “Don’t fuck me, just move.”

If you couldn’t give him credit for anything else, you could give him credit for being obedient – even when it was brief. If you told him to sit, he’d stay till you said it was okay. If you told him to back off in the morning, he’d go bother one of his toys. And when you told him to let his hips stutter upwards, sliding against yours, he obeyed – head tilted back as a groan rose from his chest.

Your cunt pulsed around him, clit throbbing as he rutted between your folds. Every uncontrolled jerk of his cock pressed his leaking head to your clit, slick dripping down from your hole to his balls. You leaned in, tip twitching against your swollen bud, pressing a kiss to his adam's apple – nipping at the skin till you’d imparted enough saliva to feel satisfied. He whined as he rutted harder, fingers twitching – desperate to pull you closer, well aware that you weren’t to be grabbed.

“You like being marked up, huh?” you asked, voice huskier than you’d intended it to be. Like someone else was speaking for you. Someone who was used to taking puppy cock. He opened his mouth to respond, failing – tilting his head back as you sank your canines into the dip between his neck and shoulder, feeling him uselessly roll his hips upward. Like nothing else mattered. Your lips were pressed to his neck – your tongue, your teeth, the marks you left behind. Why should anything else matter?

“G’na cum–” he whimpered as you sucked a bruise into the hollow of his throat, sliding your cunt down his length at an attempt of gaining friction. You nodded, surprised he’d managed to last at all. Surprised you’d managed to last at all. 

“S’okay, just cum for me,” you murmured into his skin – and like a good boy, he did, cumming a line up from your clit to your navel, dick still hard enough to ache as his knot swelled against the underside of your clit. You bit your lip, unwilling to come undone in front of him, grinding involuntarily against the swell – not that it was enough. Not that your pussy stopped throbbing. Not that he went soft.

“Need more,” he whined, to your relief. “Wanna fuck you.”

“Yeah?” you hummed, laughing breathily as he pressed his still-drooling tip between your lips. “Yeah, you wanna knot me? Wanna give me puppies?”

You didn’t really know where that came from. Still felt like a voice foreign to your conscience, but it wasn’t one you protested against as he eased himself into you, needy enough to bottom out within seconds. Your eyes widened at the stretch, humming as he pawed at your chest. He whined till you tugged up the hem of your shirt to rest at the top of your tits, face immediately pressing flush to them.

“You’ll let me?” he panted, pumping his cock into you as he nipped a visible indentation into one of your tits. “Wan’ me to breed you?”

You found yourself agreeing, enamored by the prospect – languidly rocking your hips with his, feeling his cock twitch desperately inside of you. “Yeah, want it,” you mewled, breath hitching as he bit down on your tit a little harder, quickly mending the pinch with saliva. “S’okay if my tits get swollen for you, Leon.”

Every time you spoke, he had to refrain from nudging his tip into your cervix. Last thing he wanted to do was hurt you. That was no way to treat someone you ached to pump a litter into! The thought alone made him whine, pressing his mouth to your chest again to take the pressure off, heat flaring in his lower belly at the thought of knocking you up. Like his instincts took over any cognition he had left around you. 

“Please, lemme–” he choked out, and you never really got to know what the request was, ‘cause he pumped you full too fast, his knot swelling back up fast enough to make his head fuzzy – like every part of his body was dedicated to you. And he’d allow it to be – as smitten with you as you were smitten with dick.

You didn’t move, for once, allowing yourself to be knotted and bred, cunt clenching around his knot as you came on his cock. You slowly brought your lips to the top of his head, nose resting against one of his ears. More velvety than you’d expected. You’d have to nuzzle into them more often.

“They’re gonna be pissed…” he mumbled into your breast, slowly looking up – eyelids still droopy. You couldn’t exactly reassure him – your owners would be pissed, mostly at him. Probably. Hopefully. It’s not like you could do much but lay against him till he wasn’t swollen inside of you. Didn’t you deserve a moment of impulsivity after all you’d been through? Didn’t you deserve to get pumped full of cute puppies?

Besides, you’d brought it up before. Socializing with Billy meant rest, and socializing with Rebecca meant fun — but all socialization with other hybrids meant was puppies or conflict. You’d just given up on the latter when you found a way to tire him out.

[bonnibuckets]

BRO HOW AM I JUST FINDING OUT ABT THIS FIC BABE????

[bonnibuckets]

just looked at my followers…lost like 300…oopsie! sorry for not posting, im just a busy college kid