you can call me Wisteria | proud furby mum | I write fanfiction, draw, do maths, and nap | art side blog @vaultdwellerfromthesouth | listening to Moaning Lisa via pink earmuffs | probably very drunk right now | talk to me, I don't bite
In chronological order, When It All Falls Apart is the first, taking place from 2075–2077 (pre-War), We Know The Price We Pay is the second, taking place from 2277–2279 (Fallout 3), Veni Vidi Vici takes place from 2281–2282 (Fallout New Vegas), A Man Needs A Maid (post-Fallout 3 but pre-Fallout 4) takes place from 2282–2285, and At The Precipice Of Something New takes place from 2287–2292 (Fallout 4).
When It All Falls Apart –
10 chapters (complete)
Third Person POV
AO3 Link | ff.net Link | Wattpad Link
We Know The Price We Pay –
120 chapters (in progress)
First person, alternating POV (James, Madison Li, Annette (Lone Wanderer), Sarah Lyons, Hadley Branson, Harkness)
AO3 Link | ff.net Link | Wattpad Link
Veni Vidi Vici –
75 chapters (in progress)
First person POV (Cal/Calinda AKA Courier)
AO3 Link | ff.net Link | Wattpad Link
A Man Needs A Maid –
30 chapters (in progress)
Third person POV
AO3 Link | ff.net Link | Wattpad Link
At The Precipice Of Something New –
120 chapters (in progress)
Third person POV
AO3 Link | ff.net Link | Wattpad Link
Note: updated 27. September. 2024. All of these are part of my series It Began On October 23rd, 2077. Includes one shots and longer fics. All of my fallout fics are in the same world, but aren't dependent on each other and can/do/are able to be read standalone.
Something Buried (At The Precipice Of Something New Chapter XLVII)
At the return of Nick Valentine, Ellie Perkins, and Derek Branson and his youngest to Diamond City, Piper Wright is released early from Diamond City's Prison? Preston Garvey and the Mariner hunt down the Red Death? Having been brought into the Brotherhood after the ending of her time as the Mechanist, Isabel Cruz approaches the Atom Cats Garage to investigate their power armour knowledge and assets? Nora returns to see the progressing work on the signal interceptor and gets questions answered about the Brotherhood and reflects on her own past? Things are changing in Goodneighbour for a certain former gunner?
It's been awhile. Read it on A03, ff.net, and/or wattpad!
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Read Something Buried from the story At The Precipice Of Something New by CallMeWisteria with 4 reads. commonwealth, ma...
Notes: I went back to writing in my preferred tense. I think this chapter turned out better? I'll go back and edit the previous part at some point, probably once I've finished the series. But yes, I am aware of the switch and I apologise if it's annoying.
On that note, I decided to sprinkle in OC aspects because it's easier and I enjoy writing more that way, and with how heavy the character's backstory is mentioned in the series, it was kind of necessary.
I've tried to keep it as vague as possible in terms of descriptions to make it reader-insert-friendly, but I have given her a nickname so I didn't have to use the dreaded '(Y/N)' or spend too much brain power re-wording shit now I've chosen to do half of this series in Leon's POV.
The last note is a shout out to my boyfriend who told me I don't snore in my sleep but instead I "squeak like a hamster". He said it was cute but I still have a complex about it. Thanks for that, babe.
Anyway, enjoy!
___
Leon Kennedy (RE4 remake) x F! Reader (named reader insert OC)
Genre: Fluff, hurt-comfort
Spoilers: RE4 / RE4 remake, RE2 / RE2 remake
Trigger warnings: swearing, general RE triggers (mentions of violence, weapons, body horror, etc.), talk of alcoholism, human experimentation (including on children), and mental health, Leon being a tinsy winsy bit sexist if you squint, quarantining
After saving the President's daughter, you, Leon, and Ashley are forced to quarantine together for two weeks: The one where you've never watched Friends, Leon can't cook, and he is hopelessly head over heels for you.
Prologue, Part 1
Leon
For anyone that didn’t know, the sun was very, very bright. That very, very bright sun shone directly into Leon’s face because he was stupid and didn’t close the curtains before going to bed. Now, his arm was numb and his back was sore from the way he laid. Now, he didn’t want to get up to close them.
There was only one thing that would make him feel this way.
Strange, Leon didn’t remember drinking. Or maybe he have a few and drank himself silly to the point of amnesia?
There was no headache, he wasn’t three seconds away from spewing on the floor, and the room was comfortably not spinning.
Okay, he wasn’t hungover. Good news. So why couldn’t he get up?
Eyes finally adjusting to the light, Leon tried to turn his head to avoid some of the heat but stops short about an inch from breaking his chin on something… or someone.
You were the culprit. More specifically your head, not quite resting on his shoulder but smushed on the pillow near his neck, arms hugged tightly around his. The strangle angle had him waking up with his chin resting on top of your head.
Your eyes were still closed, long lashes fanned across your cheeks. You sighed, deep and heavy breaths not quite snore level and, oh my god, was that a little squeak? That’s adorable. He didn’t even mind the small patch of drool gathering on the hem of his t-shirt.
So damn pretty.
Gently, Leon brushed the hair away from your face, both to get a better look and to reduce the risk of inhaling some. Each time his knuckles skimmed across the soft skin of your cheek, his heart backflipped. His fingers linger there for a moment, not too long to be creepy. At least, he hoped it wasn’t creepy. He just wanted to savor the feeling.
Leon loved you. There. He said it.
He had no issue admitting it to himself. It wasn’t one of those love-at-first-sight situations Leon usually found himself in. The feeling took a couple of years to develop, around the time the two of you had been shipped out on Operation Javier.
When he realised, oh boy, did it hit him like a ton of bricks.
It was everything about you. Your strength. Your empathy. The way you saw Leon for himself and made him feel like a real person in a world where everyone wanted something from him.
Being hot as hell didn’t hurt either.
He never hid how he felt. He was sure you knew. Which is good, Leon tended to wear his heart on his sleeve.
So, when the two of you returned home after that grueling mission to South America, it wasn’t long before people clocked on. Everyone in the DSO and their mothers noticed the lovesick way he looked at you. His face lit up and eyes twinkle whenever someone mentioned your name.
He knew about the bet Jenson started sometime last year. Half of the FOS squad were in the betting pool to see how long it’d take for one of you to crack and admit your undying love.
Surely, you felt something for him too, right? Constant teasing that bordered on flirting. Your little glances in his direction when you thought he wasn’t paying attention (mainly at his biceps. Leon wasn’t complaining). He noted how you wouldn’t pull away whenever he found a pointless reason to touch you.
But then you brought up Ashley having a crush on him. You weren’t the type to stir the pot, so why bring it up if you didn’t think they had a chance? Sure, he was flattered. Ash was a sweet girl and all, but she wasn’t his type, ie. She wasn’t you.
Either you didn’t have feelings, which would suck. Or you did and you were trying to hide them…
Oh god, you weren’t trying to get him laid again, were you? The last time had been a disaster and was something he’d rather not think about. His heart wouldn’t hold out if you attempted something like that again. One time is bad enough, but a second time would solidify the idea that you didn’t feel the same way. It would crush him.
Don’t be stupid. Of course you liked Leon. You wouldn’t have asked him to stay if you didn’t.
When you’d asked him to stay last night, Leon wished he hadn’t sounded so eager at the prospect of sharing a bed with you. The moment the response slipped from his mouth, Leon was sure you’d backtrack and tell him to go away.
You didn’t. You allowed him to stay.
You were safe, sleeping soundly in his arms, finding comfort in him where you belonged.
Now, Leon was about to ruin that.
Judging by how high the sun was sitting in the sky and the glimpse he caught of your watch lying on the bedside table, the President and co. would arrive in about half an hour. It was time to wake you up.
Fight or flight response kicked in fast and what was meant to be a gentle shake of your arm had you waking with a jolt. Your heart raced, eyes darting around the room in search for signs of a threat.
Leon ran a soothing hand up and down your arm until your breathing came back down to somewhat normal, “Good morning. Didn’t mean to scare you, but we’ve got visitors coming soon.”
“Hey…” Your morning voice sounded like honey. You rubbed the sleep from your eyes, slowly coming to terms with where you are and who you were with. You clocked the small, dark grey patch on his shirt and the blood rushed to your cheeks. “Shit, sorry you’re all damp.”
“It’s alright, I’m used to having the ladies drooling all over me.”
“You need to workshop that one. It was crap.” You groaned and buried your face back into the pillow.
“You’re mean in the morning.”
“Mhm, that’s what you get for rudely waking me.” Leon knew there was an eyeroll that accompanied those words. “You sleep okay?”
“Just about. You sore really loud, had the walls shaking and everything. Surprised Ashley didn’t wake up.”
“Shut up, I don’t snore.” You poked your head up a little to look at him, “Do I snore?”
Leon shook his head no, not trusting his own voice. Surely this was the closest you’ve ever been to him? That, or he’s only now noticed the golden flecks that danced in your eyes and the constellation of freckles along the bridge of your nose.
He stared at your lips, he couldn’t help it, especially when the bottom one turned red from you biting it to keep from laughing. You made this so hard for him without even knowing. Did you realise how easy it would be to kiss you right now?
For a split second, Leon thought you were thinking the same, your own sleepy gaze locked onto his lips, tracing them with your finger. God, he was smiling like a idiot and he didn’t care.
He should’ve bit the bullet and did it then, but your attention shifted down to his neck and the moment was gone.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to take a proper look at this before Med gets here? It looks bad.”
It felt bad, too. Saddler got him good back in that castle. It’d been a while since Leon felt true fear while out on the field, but that slimy tentacle squeezed around his neck had him thinking he was taking his last breaths, “Don’t worry about me.”
“Of course I’m going to worry about you, Le.”
Warmth blossomed in his chest. Words couldn’t describe how happy it made him to hear you say that, to know you cared so deeply. He couldn’t remember the last time someone gave a shit about him.
Leon’s hand tangled in your mess of hair, thumb stroking across the apple of your cheek as he guided you to look away from his injury. It was a mistake that your lips were now barely an inch away from his. You didn’t pull away, even when his mouth almost brushes yours.
“Thank you.”
“For what? Caring about you?”
“Yeah. Don’t think I’ve said it enough recently.”
“You don’t have to thank me for that.”
Just do it. Fucking kiss her, you idiot.
He did. Almost.
The knock on the door shocked both of you. Really, it had been going on for a full two minutes, starting on Leon’s door down the hall before moving onto yours. Subconsciously, Leon most likely knew and ignored it.
You both froze.
“Hey, Alt? You awake?”
“Yeah, I’m up.” You leaned back just enough so you weren’t yelling in Leon’s face.
“Okay, good! Just everyone’s gonna be here soon. Have you seen Leon? I tried his door but he didn’t answer and I didn’t want to just barge in.”
“Oh, umm…”
Leon watched every single thought fly out your head. Your lying skills were none existent and normally it’d be hilarious, if it weren’t for one thing he’d told Ashley back in that village. It wasn’t that he’d lied to her…
Okay, maybe it was a small, tiny white lie. Really, it was nothing. But under no circumstances were you to find out about said lie, and if Ashley suspected Leon had snuck into your room last night, well, the cat would be out the bag.
Now, you stared up at Leon like a dear caught in headlights.
Great, now he needed to think of something.
Leon flopped his head back, eyes closed. He gave a few dramatic breaths bordering on a silent snore.
“He’s probably sleeping. Nothing can wake him. I’ve seen him sleep through an earthquake before. I’ll go in in a minute, just let me get ready.” Thank god, you kicked into action.
“Awesome!”
The two of you listened until Ashley’s footsteps disappeared down the hall before relaxing.
“An Earthquake? Really?” Leon’s head perked back up.
“I panicked.” You yawned, shifting away to stretch. Leon already missed your warmth, but he resisted the urge to pull you back in. “I’m gonna distract Ashley in the kitchen so she doesn’t notice you sneaking out.”
You were up and out before Leon could complain, leaving him alone and staring at your ceiling, wondering how the hell he was going to survive the next couple of weeks.
___
What’s worse: greeting the president of the United States in pajamas or blood-soaked clothes?
You were all dressed in your pajamas when the President arrived.
At least Leon had time to brush his teeth and hair before thirty people crammed into the tiny apartment. SS, DSO, presidencial assistants, doctors, nurses, Bio-specalists ready to get their eager hands on your bodies if anything even slightly changed in your biology, all dressed head to toe in PPE.
The sound was horrible. All that plastic shuffling and spore filters working in union as people moved about the rooms like ants. Environmental specalists made their way into the bedrooms, collecting the little that was brought in from the village to check for signs of infection. Assistants dropped off the personal belongings the three of you had requested from home.
The Secret Survice were the first to crowed the tiny living room. Six burly men still trying to figure out how to look intimidating while dressed like The Marshmallow Man. They sweaped the room, checked windows, drawers, and patted down pockets.
Once cleared, two men disappeared to get the President.
“Sir, I don’t think that’s a good idea-” Your attempt to intervene was pointless.
As soon as he walked in, the President ripped off the helmet of his hazmatsuit and made a b-line for Ashley, scooping her up in his arms, “You’re here. You’re alive. You’re okay. ”
A lot more hugging followed. And it went on. For a while. Don’t get Leon wrong, it was sweet, but definitely felt like an invasion on what was meant to be a intimate family moment.
For several minutes you and Leon stand there awkwardly until the President finally turned to address you.
“Apologies that our first meeting was so rushed. Thank you, both of you, I honestly cannot tell you how grateful I am to have Ashley back home safely. I was watching from the control room and, wow! The work you did was incredible.”
Words fired out a mile a minute, each one puncutuated with a handshake that alternated between you and Leon. The poor man was seconds away from breaking into tears and the best either of you could do was smile.
The room descended into silence, thirty pairs of eyes watched on and Leon realised they were waiting for both of you to say something.
“Oh…ummm, thank you-”
“-You’re welcome, sir.”
“David. Call me David, please. Again, I cannot begin to thank you enough for saving my daughter. Thank you. Thank you so much. From now anything you want, let me know and it’s yours.”
“Some vacation time would be nice.” That earnt Leon your elbow to his ribs and some secondhand embarrassment from Hunnigan. Was still worth a shot.
“I’m sure I can make that happen.” David laughed.
With pleasantries out the way, there was more talk on how the next couple of weeks would run and…
Yeah, Leon didn’t care. All honesty, he was currently a dead man standing wanted to go back to sleep. Assuming it was all standard stuff he’d heard a thousand times before, he stood there, looked pretty and nodded every so often to give the illusion of listening.
It wasn’t until someone interrupted the meeting that things got interesting. Beady eyed and red faced, Leon could practically smell the sweat permiating from the man’s pits from under his haz-suit as he entered the already cramped room.
“You…” You locked in on the man. His back tensed, straight as a board.
Something was about to go down and suddenly Leon had all the energy to pay attention again.
“Hey, Alt! How are you?”
“Jenson…”
“Okay, I get it, you’re mad-”
“Oh, I’m more than mad.”
“Then we can talk about this! Calmly and not in front of the President. But you need to calm down first-”
Ooooo, Jenson had a death wish. Even Leon knew rule number one; never tell a pissed off woman to calm down. Right next to never tell a hormonal woman to calm down. Right next to never take her food without permission.
If someone had dropped a pin, it would’ve been deafening. Your stare should’ve killed Jenson on the spot. Jaw clenched, eyes dark with murderous intent. It was terrifying.
And hot.
Okay, mostly hot but that’s because Leon was fucked up. Jenson should definatly be terrified.
Sensing things might get worse before they got better, two Secret Service agents swooped in and took you by the arms. You could break out of their grasp in less than a second if you wanted to. You didn’t bother. Instead, you let them drag you down the hall and into the nearest bedroom.
Leon’s bedroom. Damn it. If things went south, there was going to be so much blood to clean up.
Tentivley, Jenson followed, not even making it through the door before you started.
“Don’t you fucking dare tell me to fucking calm down, Jenson. I almost fucking died because you got your intel wrong! ‘Don’t worry, Alt. We haven’t detected any bioweapon activity in the area, Alt. Just find Baby Egal and get the hell out of there.’ The entire fucking village was a god damn bioweapon! They laid bear traps in the streets! Have you ever had your foot stuck in a bear trap, Jenson? No? Well, I can tell you it fucking hurts like shit!”
“You heal two point five times faster than the average person, I’m sure it wasn’t that bad-”
“THAT’S NOT THE FUCKING POINT!”
Security closed the door right as things were getting good. Leon should feel more bad for the poor guy. He hadn’t been with the DSO long and got stuck with you, the sectors most complex agent, for his first run.
Now there was a fifty-fifty chance you were going to rip off his head.
Eh, he did it to himself. Should’ve been on top of the intel.
David broke the ice, “She’s the bioweapon, correct?”
Leon sucked in a breath and bit his tongue. It was a valid question. David wasn’t new. He’d been in the presidential seat for well over three years, but with a whole country to run, he wasn’t going to know the ins and outs of every department. Leon suspected having a genetically modified supersoilder working for the US government would be higher on the ‘oh, I should know about this’ list, but whatever.
It was that word, bioweapon, that caused Leon’s stomach to churn. Sure, Umbrella kidnapped you as a child and subjected you to their experiments, but god be damned, you were nothing like those things back in Raccon. You weren’t a weapon by any means.
“Not bioweapon.” Hunnigan jumped in. Smart. Leon’s answer wouldn’t have been as diplomatic, “More, say, genetically modified human. Superhuman speed, strength, and agility, slightly higher IQ than average- although her brother inherited more of that side. She’s 100% safe and stable. No chance of her turning into one of those things in the village or the Raccoon City incident.”
“So these outbursts aren’t a symptom of her….modifications?”
“No. She’s just pissed off Jenson nearly got her killed. For whatever reason, his intel was roughly half an hour behind everyone else. Her near-miss stats were up 65% from the last time she was out on the field and she had about forteen hours in which we couldn’t reach her compared to Leon’s six. It’s a wonder how she even made it out that village alive."
“And she’s right, a bear trap to the foot does hurt like hell.” Leon was being helpful.
Hunnigan thought otherwise and shot him look that told him to shut up.
David glanced between Leon, then Hunnigan, then the door you were behind, then back to the group as a whole, “Alright, well, I want to spend some time with my daughter. Once everyone has been medically cleared, you can take the rest of the day off to get settled in, then it’s back to work tomorrow.”
Everyone agreed.
Down the hall, things picked up again, muffled screams becoming louder and louder.
“I want to talk to my brother!”
“Your phone is in your bag!”
“Get the fuck out so I can call him then!”
Jenson emurged from the room, security following close behind. He wasn’t as shaken as Leon thought he’d be, though he’s complexion had paled a few shades, “We’re going to catch up tomorrow once she’s calmed down.”
No one replied. Jenson shuffled out the door and one by one people followed.
Hunnigan stayed behind. Leon needed his debrief and there was some information she wanted to pass on to you that she didn’t trust Jenson to remember. Nice to see everyone’s faith in the man was fading.
“Have I ever told you how much I appreciate you?” Leon sat on the couch and watched her pull out a briefcase.
Hunnigan smiled politely, “What can I say? I’m great at my job.”
___
Quarantine rules were simple:
Stay in the apartment at all times with the exception of one hour of allotted (supervised) outdoor time in the apartments fenced off garden.
Every few days, leave a list of supplies outside the door and someone would fetch them.
Since you all past your innital exams, medical checks would happen every three days or on a needed basis. Any changes needed reporting down to medical on the first floor right away.
Other than that, you were left to your own devices. That included a day of napping. Once David left, the three of you retired to your rooms to catch up on some much needed sleep.
The apartment was still quiet when Leon woke in the early evening, only slightly disappointed when he found himself alone in bed this time. He spent some time checking his endless inbox of work emails on the laptop Hunnigan had packed for him, but gave up after the third one and headed to the kitchen.
While you slept, security came in and stocked the fridge and cupbaords, each item named and neatly organized. Leon stood and stared into the fridge for a while, waiting for his brain to kick the sleepy haze that still plagued him. It worked, eventually, and he figured out which shelf was his.
Grabbing eggs and a pack of spinach, he dumped them on the counter and moved to search for a pan. There was a radio sitting on the edge of the kitchen island. Flicking it on, soft music filled the room, most of it in Spanish Leon barely understood. Every now and again, he’d catch himself translating some of the lyrics into English but mostly it was nice background noise.
Pan acquired, he opened the cupboard above the stove, realised it was Ashley’s, moved one along and shiittttt did he forget to ask for seasonings? Not even salt? And no oil? God, he was really living up to his name of worst cook in the world.
Did he have any margarine? No, of course not. But you had butter. He’d deal with the stomach ache later. Might as well throw in some of your cheese while he’s at it.
By the time Leon finished collecting his ingredients, ninety percent of it was your stuff, including the salt, pepper, bell pepper, and bread.
Your bedroom door opened as the fourth egg hit the pan.
You shuffled into the kitchen, the hood of your hoodie pulled up hiding your bed hair and half your face. Stopping short behind him, Leon felt the soft thunk of your head against his back.
“Good nap?” He laughed.
“Everything hurts and I don’t want to be alive.”
Leon understood what you meant. Since leaving the village there’d been a constant aching in his muscles. All of them. Every. Single. One. He didn’t want to admit he was getting too old for the job at the ripe age of twenty-seven, but maybe it was time to include some stretches into his pre and post op routines.
Coaxing you out of the way, Leon turned to grab the salt. When he came back, you’d found your way onto the kitchen counter next to the stove. You watched as he poured the perfect amount of salt over his eggs.
Your head titlted and at first Leon thought you were going to berate him for his sodium intake when you said, “That’s rocket, by the way.”
“What?”
Picking up the packet of leaves, you double checked your suspicions before turning it to him, pointing to the big words across the front, “That’s not spinach. La rúcula is Spanish for rocket- arugula, whatever you yanks call it.”
Pushing at the bridge of his glasses as if his poor eyesight was the reason for his idiocy, Leon grabbed the packet, examining the greens through the sliver of seethrough plastic and, just to be sure, plucked a leaf from its contents. He popped it in his mouth and chewed and yep, you were right.
Well that’s embarrassing. And disgusting.
He couldn’t spit it out in front of you, so he swallowed the peppery shit down like the good boy he was. Finished, Leon opened his mouth to show you it was all gone. His efforts earned him an eyeroll and a ‘you’re a fucking idiot’ between muffled giggles.
Leon melted a bit inside. If it took being an idiot to hear that sound fall from your lips, then so be it, Leon would be the biggest idiot in the world for you until the day he died.
“Babes, the chicks died the moment the eggs went unfertalised. You don’t have to burn the life out of them, too.”
Crap! He’d been staring at you too long.
Turning off the heat, Leon scooped his hellish mix of overcooked scrambled eggs with cheese and not-spinach onto the plate of raw bell peppers. At least the toast turned out good.
Just as he was about to grab the plate, you swoop in and snatch it, hopping off the counter with a smile, “Thanks. Seeing you used my stuff to make this.”
Leon watched you walk away, mouth agape. He couldn’t keep letting you get away with food crimes because you were cute. Next time, he’ll put his footdown. But not now. This time, you took a seat at the kitchen island and tucked into his food.
You made Leon a weak man.
Heat back on, he fished the butter back out of the fridge.
“How’s Ben?” Leon asked over your chocking. Good, guess you found the salt in his eggs too much.
“He’s good! Wasn’t too happy about getting a C on his biology paper the other day. He went back to the teacher demanding a higher grade by telling her he had proof that ‘some pharmaceutical companies’ have experimented with mutagenic retroviruses to create supersoilders and he knows this because he is the proof. The teacher called CPS. Secret Service had to go in and have everyone sign NDAs.”
“Jesus christ.”
Ben was smart. Stupidly smart. A natural gift but the mutated t-virus swimming in his blood didn’t hurt either. At 15 years old, he already had several of the worlds top universities gunning for his attention, offering scholarships and research opportunities left and right.
You along with the almighty DSO higher powers agreed Ben skipping high school wasn’t a good idea. You wanted him to be around kids his own age and have a somewhat normal childhood despite all the crap he’d been through. But these kind of situations had been popping up more and more recently. Nothing too serious, but the cracks in his mental state were showing.
Even though Ben was getting help for it (mostly because the government didn’t want him spreading classified information to every Tom, Dick, and Sally), Leon knew it was putting a strain on you mentally.
“Yuuup. Teacher requested copies of the Raccoon case files as part of her compensation package. Stupidly, DSO agreed and after reading them, she had a nervous breakdown. I checked her report, the government paid her $5,000,000 in hush money and granted early retirement. She’s only 30-odd. Know what’s funny, though? The paper was meant to be about photosynthesis in kelp.”
Toast? Perfect. Eggs? Not overcooked. Rocket? Gone and replaced with actual Spinach.
Leon joined the other side of the island from where you were sat. He had to lean on his elbows so he was a similar hight to you, but sitting for a meal like this always felt too formal to him, “Did he get the A+?”
You nodded around a forkfull of food. You’d already picked out and finished the rocket and one slice of toast by the time Leon started on his first bite, “Gave him a whole lecture on how him bullying his teacher into a nervous breakdown isn’t the way to get good grades. He said he didn’t care as long as it didn’t affect his GPA. Anyway, you heard anything from Sherry?”
“I messaged her foster parents telling them I’m alive. Haven’t heard anything back.” Leon pushed the eggs around the plate with his fork. They were bland.
“That sucks. I’m sorry.”
You reached for his free arm, drawing soothing patterns along the inside of his wrist. You’d been doing that a lot recently, starting in the heli on the way out of the village. He didn’t know if it was because of watching him almost succumb to Las Plagas or a new random habit you’d picked up, either way he enjoyed the small comfort.
Leon shrugged, “Not much I can do now.”
“You did right by her, Le. Even if you don’t believe it right now.”
He did believe it. Giving up Sherry from his care was the best choice he could’ve made for her. They’d both been drowning recently. The chaos of his job, him being away so much, the increased drinking, though no one knew about that- even you. She needed stability, a loving, healthy family. All things he couldn’t provide for her.
Believing it didn’t stop the guilt. Didn’t stop the deep ache of missing her when he woke up to an empty house each morning.
Her damn foster parents promised to keep in contact once Sherry moved into their care. Now, it’d been several weeks since Leon had received a text or call.
A drink would be great right now.
“I’d rather not talk about this right now.”
“Okay.” You suqeezed his hand and pulled away.
There were a lot of skills you had that Leon was envious of; one of them being your rapid ability to read a room and how quickly you could switch it’s mood when things turned sour. Another was the way you could connect with anyone you met. You could talk to anyone about nearly any topic. At first he thought it was a British thing - the fine art of small talk seemed to be their strong suit, but now he thinks it’s just a you thing.
From your endless encyclopaedia of knowledge you pulled out the recent bombings in Madrid, how the final season of Friends was apparently crap (without giving too many spoilers because Leon was only on Season 4 (He didn’t tell you you were several months late on that news)), and you were thinking about getting Ben a Nintendo DS for Christmas if he stopped harassing teachers.
You let him talk your ear off about golf, even though you had no interest in the sport.
It was nice, just sitting/standing there talking to you. For a while, Leon could pretend that this was his normal.
He was still just a police officer, fifth year on the job. Maybe he would’ve had a premotion by now, finally earning enough to think about starting a family with you. You were still there in his dream, of course.
He’d just finished cooking dinner when you walked through the door. You’ve been at work all day but surprised him by coming home early to spend some time together before Ben and Sherry finished their after-school clubs. Maybe you’d be a paediatric nurse like you always wanted. The hours at the hospital were brutal, but you loved your job and working with kids so rarely ever complained.
Leon would tell you about the new house he saw up for sale just outside the city while on patrol the other day. It was closer to the hospital so you wouldn’t have to get the city tram through rush hour anymore, and he wouldn’t mind the short half an hour drive to the station every day. That would spark the inevitable question of if you could finally get a dog with the new space. You always wanted a German Shepard, or a Newfoundland- any big dog really.
That’s what Leon craved. Something domestic. Something normal, with you. It’d never happen but it was a nice dream, something to keep him from going insane.
You’d been eyeing up his plate for a while now. Your toast and peppers were gone, the burnt bits of eggs shifted to the side of the plate, “We doing anything tonight? We’ve kind of fucked up our sleep schedules now.”
“We? Maybe I want to spend some time alone for once.” You didn’t believe him, not even for a second. Your brow raised inquisitively as you stood from the chair, “Kidding. We could watch the movie?”
The sound that came out of your mouth was closer to an injured animal than anything human, “Do we have to?”
You shuffled over to his side of the island and scrape the good bits of egg onto his plate before heading to the skin. Leon vowed then he was going to marry you someday. Come on, you just spent twenty minutes picking out rocket from his eggs and gave him back the best bits! If that wasn’t marriage material, he didn’t know what was.
A door opened down the hall.
“You make it sound like I’ve got a gun to your head.”
“You kinda do.”
“Did someone say movie night?” Ashley rounded the corner. An invisible wall stopped her short of the kitchen, her face scrunching up in disgust, “Oh god, why does it smell like burnt eggs in here?”
You reached round her to grab the pan off the stove, then pointed an accusing wooden spoon in Leon’s direction and flick on the tap in one motion.
Ashley held her breath on the way to the cupboard. She grabbed a Pop-Tart and slapped it in the toaster.
“Maybe. Alt doesn’t watch movies or TV shows.” Leon finished mixing the two portions of egg together. The bland parts perfectly balanced the over salted parts.
“What? You don’t watch TV? Like, at all?”
You shook your head no, “It’s boring.”
“But there’s so much to pick from now. You can’t tell me it’s all boring.”
“There’s no point. I’ve been trying to get her to watch stuff for years.”
“Yeah, probably those boring cop movies.” Ashley wasn’t wrong, but she didn’t need to know that. Anyway, those movies were good and Leon would die on that hill. One day, he’ll get you to like them too.
You collected a sponge and dish soap from under the sink, “I watch documentaries.”
“That’s not the same.” Ashley and Leon said in unison.
“She won’t even watch Friends.” Leon cleared the remainders of his eggs and started work on the mountain of toast.
That earnt a dramatic gasp from Ashley, “You haven’t seen Friends!? It’s, like, the greatest TV show of all time! How can you not like Joey? Or Chanddler? Or Phoebe?”
“Or Rachel?”
“Of course you like Rachel.” The glare of disappointment on her face was funny. Leon shovled in another bite of toast before his mouth got him in more trouble.
“I don’t know, they’re not real people. There’s so much cool stuff happening in real life, I don’t see the point in wasting my time and emotions getting invested in all that fake stuff.”
“It’s escapism. It’s fun to get away from the real world now and again.” Ashley grabbed the now ready Pop-Tart from the toaster, instantly regretted her disition when some of the molten filling fell on her hand, and threw it on a plate, “Okay, well, we’re watching it. Tonight. I asked Dad to bring my boxsets from home and it’s not like we have anything else to do. Wait here, don’t go anywhere.”
Pop-Tart abandoned, Ashley bolted out the room before you had a chance to disagree.
You looked at Leon, confused, “Where would I even go?”
Leon passed his now empty plate over to you, “Out the window?”
“Fair point, we do have a habit of that.” You sighed and began washing the dish.
I haven't written anything in about two years. Is this good? Probably not. Then I stupidly decided to change the tense of the piece in the final two edits. I'm already dyslexic af and struggle with that shit, so that was fun. And writing in the second person is already a pain in the arse for me.
But I have spent 5 hours editing this piece on top of the three hours it took me to write it. I need to put an end to this insanity!
Anyway, I've had this idea for a RE series for about three years now and decided, fuck it! the release of RE9 has firmly got me back on my Leon Kennedy bullshit and I've got some time and energy to kill. The series is written with an OC, but I've tried to keep it as vague as possible for now.
Leon Kennedy (RE4 remake) x Reader (vague OC)
Genre: Fluff, hurt-comfort
Spoilers: RE4 / RE4 remake, Re2 / RE2 remake
Trigger warnings: vague idea of PTSD / Anxiety, mentions of a gun (no active shooting), general RE triggers (mentions of violence, weapons, body horror, etc.)
After saving the President's daughter, you, Leon, and Ashley are forced to quarantine together for two weeks.
You
Given how stingy the DSO could be, this safe house was pretty nice. A cushy three-bedroom apartment, located ten minutes away from La Coruña, Spain.
Maybe risking your lives to save the President's daughter did have some perks after all.
The entire five-storey building had been evacuated for the next two weeks with some bullshit lie about a major gas leak. At least the Spanish government would be fully reimbursing the residents at the expense of your little holiday.
After a helicopter ride and a quick debrief it was decided that you, Leon, and Ashley would stay in Spain for a fortnight to quarantine. ‘Advanced safety measures’. The government didn’t want the risk of the lurgy being brought back over the US border. And after a lovely talk with the Spanish government, they happily agreed to help in any way they could. In return, anything that happened on Spanish soil would be kept under wraps.
Apparently, they didn’t want the rest of the world to know about their involvement in the kidnapping of the President’s daughter and a near-miss bioterror outbreak.
You don’t blame them.
The apartment itself was lovely. A small living room with an open kitchenette off to the corner. Minimally furnished and decorated with a two-seater sofa, armchair, and TV. Ashley left to claim dibs on the larger of the three bedrooms; meanwhile, your driver (a Capitán in the Spanish military by the name of Ortiz who had been appointed as your ‘make sure they don’t fuck around’ guardian for your welcomed stay) informed you and Leon that this particular flat was recently emptied, refurbished, and was awaiting new tenants.
That put you at ease. At least you wouldn’t be hogging some poor strangers' beds.
You turn to Leon, fully expecting him to share the same what the fuck sense of doom you were feeling. Instead, he was already looking down at you with a tired grin, “You can shower after Ash.”
Ortiz told you he would be staying in the apartment below before leaving for the night. For the first time in a long while, you and Leon were left alone in the quiet.
You didn't like it.
“Aww, chivalry isn’t dead after all.”
With a roll of his eyes, you both go to your respective rooms and wait for your turns to shower.
---
Much like the rest of the apartment, the bedroom was simple. A small double bet sits in the centre of the room and…well, that’s about it. A carrier bag had been set at the foot of the bed, inside a neatly folded t-shirt and a pair of pajama bottoms. The material felt cheap, but compared to the heavy gear you’d been sporting the last couple of weeks, it was heaven against your freshly washed skin.
You’d just finished packing your old clothes away in the bag when there was a soft knock on the door. Leon pokes his head round the frame, hair still damp from his own shower.
“Hey, just got off the phone with Hunnigan. The President is flying out with a team of agents. ETA is 07:00. Just walked by Ash’s room and the light was out. I think she’s already asleep.”
“Okay. Thanks for letting me know.” Your words are hollow. You barely have the energy to keep your eyes open, let alone think about what is happening tomorrow. The shower was good at wiping away the physical evidence of what had gone down in that village, but it’d given you way too much uninterrupted thinking time.
The last thing you want to do right now is think.
Then Leon asks the dreaded question, “Want to talk about it?”
No. But you still open your mouth to speak, not wanting to seem rude and…nothing.
Where do you even begin? The whole ordeal had been a nightmare the moment the two of you set foot in the damn country. Salazar. Saddler. Another god damn fucking bioweapon to worry about. All those poor villagers caught in the crossfire. Ashley.
God, you don’t want to think about what was going through Ashley’s head. The kidnapping, all the torture she went through. And for what?
The poor girl was going to need so much therapy.
“It’s just…it was a lot.” You focus on the feeling of Leon’s hand in yours and not how your words waver.
At some point, you’re not sure when, Leon closes the door and crouches in front of you by the foot of the bed.
“Understatement of the century.”
“Smart ass.” That got you both cracking a smile and the faint ghost of a laugh.
Your thumb brushes over the skin of Leon’s hand. There were a couple of light cuts from a knife scratch or two, but no major damage from what you could tell. All things considered, he had gotten off pretty clean in the injury department.
Flipping the hand over, you ignore the feeling of his gaze boring into you, instead focusing on a thin red line that ran across where his hand and wrist met. Slight irritation, probably from having strapped his glove too tight. Well, cutting off circulation wasn’t going to help his chronically cold hands.
You file away a mental note to give him a lecture on that later.
Another thin scratch ran along one of his veins. You follow it with your finger, stopping short as it disappears around the other side of his arm.
You were back in that room with Saddler, watching helplessly as he controlled Leon and Ashley with the parasite he had implanted in them. Leon frozen in place as Ashley raised the gun with shaky hands. Saddler furious in his demands as to why he could feel the parasite working on them and not you.
Paralysed in fear, you just stand there. You did nothing to stop what was about to happen. Saddler was right, the parasite hadn’t worked on you. Whatever fuckery Umbrella had done to you as a kid was stopping Saddler’s fuckery from taking full effect.
You still had your own free will, and yet, you let Ashley almost shoot Leon.
What was the point of all this fucking training you had been through if, when it came down to it, you couldn’t save the person you lov- cared about deeply and had a strong work-friend co-dependency with?
You weren’t sure how you’d be able to live with yourself if you let that happen. If you lost him…
Don’t think about that. Not now. Don’t let him see you cry.
Both Leon and Ashley bounced back quickly once the parasite was removed, but you swore you could still see the faintest tendrils of black swirling in Leon’s veins whenever the light hit it just right.
You turn to look at Leon. For the first time, you notice the mark around his neck from when Saddler had caught him. A nasty red welt in a sea of black and purple bruises. You want to reach out and touch him, make sure his head is still connected because you’re still not sure how the hell he survived going through all that without his neck snapping in half.
You don’t move. “You doing okay?”
“Been through worse.”
You hate when he says that. He’d been saying it a lot more recently. The thought of there being something worse than the shit you’ve already been through brought you no comfort. It got you thinking this wasn’t the end. The nightmare just continues. On and on forever. There’s no upper limit to the worst thing that can happen to the two of you…
Your chest tightens at the thought.
Leon’s hand squeezes tighter around yours. He flashes you a weak smile with sad, sympathetic eyes, “Seriously. It looks worse than it feels.”
You knew better than to push him. Honestly, neither of you had much fight left and the tiredness was only deepening the longer the night went on.
Leon must be having the same thought because he moves to stand, arms stretched above his head in an over-dramatic yawn, “I’ll let you get some rest.”
You reach out for his hand but catch the hem of his shirt instead. Well, that’s a bit embarrassing, but you weren’t really thinking in that moment.
Nor were you thinking with the small plea, “Stay? Please.”
There’s no pause. No second thought or even a hint of pity in Leon’s eyes when he said, “Okay.”
He says he needs to grab something from his room and that he’ll be right back. Really, he was going out to do a quick sweep of all the windows and doors. You were sure the Spanish military knew what they were doing, but you knew he didn’t trust the arguably too quick safety check Ortiz made before you lot entered. Leon always preferred doing that kind of thing himself, even if it could border on paranoia at times.
You didn’t stop him.
You’re cozied up under the covers by the time Leon comes back. Flicking off the light, he climbs into the bed behind you. The way he molds around your frame felt so natural, legs intertwining, his chin resting on the top of your head. He practically melts into you and you welcome the warmth, a sense of comfort you haven’t felt in weeks.
You almost lost him. It would have been your fault.
You lace your fingers with his and hug his hand close to your chest. Both of you lay in the quiet night for some time, half asleep but not quite able to shut off your racing minds.
Then, out of nowhere.
“Ashley fancies you, by the way.”
Honestly, you weren’t sure where it came from. You weren’t threatened by Ashley. At least, you don’t think you were. There weren’t any of the normal signs of jealousy hidden away in you.
Overall, she was an alright girl. Before all this, you’d met her at a couple of dinners and fundraiser galas while her father was gunning for the presidential seat. In the limited conversations you’d had with her, she’d seemed nice enough, giving off a bit of a popular girl vibe, if anything. A bit ditzy and loud spoken at times, but what barely-twenty-something wasn’t?
Maybe Leon just really needs to get laid, and you were helping him. As a friend, of course.
Or it was the extreme sleep deprivation talking. You just need to shut your mouth and go to sleep before anything else comes out.
Leon scoffs, though you could feel his smile pressing into your head, “Doubt it.”
“No, really.” You feel his eyes roll behind you, “Did you not see those love-sick eyes she was giving you in the heli?”
“Damn, no, I didn’t. But if you’re serious maybe I should go wake her-”
Leon moves to leave but you were quick. You grip his arm for dear life, securing it back around your waist and tugging him forward. There, he was firmly trapped. Good luck leaving now, dickhead.
“I’m kidding.” If it weren’t for his chest rumbling with amusement, you might have noticed the small hitch in his breath at your movements. You did, however, feel the press of his soft lips against your cheek, lingering a fraction of a second longer than what would be seen as just friendly. He soon settles behind you again and you try not to focus on how your skin tingles from the slight touch. “Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere.”
It gets better: Watson managed to accumulate so many points within two years that she got automatically banned, even though she would have known she was on thin ice (you get notified of speeding penalties through the post). Her options were: a) not speed; b) hire a driver (because let's face it, she can afford one); c) get a bike and use that to travel around Oxford like other people. She did none of those things!
I figured as much because you can't lose your permit (even temporarily) for such a small offense unless you'd already been caught enough times to warrant it lol. I also couldn't help but laugh at the way the article casually pointed out that she hasn't been doing any acting since 2019 and has apparently just been selling "sustainable gin" with her brother (i guess even the BBC forgot about her perfume, which is hardly surprising considering how forgettable it is).
“Ron and Hermione shouldn’t have ended up together” YES THEY SHOULD HAVE. OBVIOUSLY THEY SHOULD HAVE. COME ONNNN PEOPLE ITS A CLASSIC CASE OF OPPOSITES ATTRACT THEYRE THE MOST PERFECTLY MADE FOR EACHOTHER DUO YOU HAVE TO BE KIDDING ME
When will people stop pretending that they can still read Harry Potter without paying tribute to JK Rowling?? Separating the art from the artist is impossible. It's kind of like separating the man from the penis. It just doesn't work :/
“I do not walk around my house thinking about my legacy. You know, what a pompous way to live your life walking around thinking, ‘What will my legacy be?’ Whatever, I’ll be dead.
I care about now. I care about the living.”
There are other drawings out there! It's one reason why people can't retcon certain characters' descriptions and claim they're canon: we have the intertextual evidence of Rowling's intentions via the drawings she made.
Holly crap look at these just wow. So glad we have her drawings of her characters they look so great I can’t even just look at them !!! Thank you for sharing this and for your addition.
It's kind of funny that the author who thought it was a cool worldbuilding idea to make "witch" and "wizard" magical genders later revealed herself to be a raging terf.
Like I'm semi-sure it wasn't done with that intention, but Freud would have a field day with the unconscious biases lurking in her work.
Yeah, i agree, it's definitely very strange that JKR went, "what if instead of meaning "evil hag eating children in the woods", "witch" just meant "a woman who can do magic""
only to later go: "what if, instead of meaning "barbie looking, pink-loving person", woman just meant "adult human female"!
