Imagine coming home to find another “daughter” with a bonus grandchild…
(Might rewrite this one)
“Leon, you can’t keep doing this,” you sighed as you looked at the two girls on your couch. You meant no true harm behind your words, but this couldn’t become a habit either. You glanced at the girls, seeing their weary states. “What happened to them?” you whispered as you leaned against the doorframe.
He leaned close to you, being considerately quiet, “Umbrella happened.” You frowned, “They’re alright now, right?” Leon nodded, glancing at the two girls, “They will be.” You cupped his cheek, “Are you alright? Chasing your past like that,” you spoke softly, feeling the stubble. “It’s not easy,” you planted your chin against his chest.
He glanced down at you, vulnerable hinted in his eyes, “I want to say yes.” You smiled sympathetically, “But?” He sighed, “But I’m not, and I won’t be for a while. You’ve got to understand, seeing it…” You silenced him, “I understand, and I’m with you all the way. If you let me,” you brought his knuckles to your lips, kissing them with tenderness and care.
He embraced your presence, glad to be home back to you. “You’re one of the few things in this world that keep me anchored down. That keeps me alive,” he chuckled as he stared into your eyes. You chuckled as well, “I’m glad to be that person. Now, will you introduce me or not?”
He grunted as he pushed off the wall. You snickered, “You’re getting old.” He sent you that cocky smirk, “You love me.” You rolled your eyes at his words, following him, “I do.”
You sat across from the two girls, “Are you girls alright?” The woman nodded, holding the little girl tighter, “Yeah, no…yeah, I think.” You smiled sympathetically. You didn’t expect a composed answer. “That’s alright. Would you like some food? I’ll be happy to help,” you offered kindly. You watched as the little girl’s eyes flickered to you before nodding.
You smiled and stood up, “I’ll go fetch you something to eat and drink then.” The woman looked at you with gratitude, “Thank you. It means a lot to us that you and Leon are so…understanding.”
You nodded, “Don’t thank us. Umbrella’s world is a fucked up domain. You deserve this. You deserve your hope.”
“Why do we have to do this?” he spoke, sitting on the toilet seat with you on his lap. You gently slid the razor against his foamed skin, making sure not to nick him. “It won’t kill you to shave every now and then, sweetheart. You’re a hot, old man, not a hot, old man,” you scoffed. “Besides, I don’t want it getting too long. I like the stubble,” you angled the razor again.
“Of course you do,” he grumbled. You gave him a grin and pecked his lips, wiping off the excess shaving cream. “We’re done. Look at you! All so smooth and young again,” you cupped his cheeks, pinching them teasingly. He glanced at himself in the mirror, a new, anxious glint in his eyes.
You sighed and your smile became reassuring and sympathetic, “We can’t change the past, Leon. Though, you can’t keep running from it either.” You redirected his focus to you, “I get why you don’t like it.”
He scoffed, “And why don’t I like it?”
You frowned.
“Because you still see the twenty-one year old back in Raccoon City in the mirror.”
He paused at your words. They had hit him deep within. Grazing a hatchet he claimed he had buried decades ago.
Sighing, you came up behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist as you pressed your forehead against his back. You stood there quietly, hugging and giving him comfort before speaking, “You can’t hide from yourself, Leon.”
You felt his hands shakily cradle yours, silently keeping you there, “I want to. I really fucking want to.” Your grip tightened around him as you listened. “I know I can’t,” he whispered.
“Don’t worry,” you whispered against him. “I’m here for you. I’m always here for you, sweetheart,” you mumbled reassuringly.
“It’ll be okay. You’ll be okay.”
Leon shakily stared at the ruins of RPD in front of him, hearing your words echo through his mind like a constant chime. The past was hitting him hard, and you weren’t there to physically talk him through it.
His hand shakily dug into his pocket, staring at a crinkled photo of you two together. His breathing evened out as tension turned into determination. He wasn’t going to give up now.
He was going to come back to you. Even if it meant chasing his past to hold you again.
Leon never would’ve thought he’d see the day he’d get married. Unfortunately, work had other plans.
Warnings: Re9 spoilers, brief smut
“October ninth, seven P.M. at city hall,” you reminded him as you helped him with his jacket. “Yeah, I remember,” he chuckled deeply as he turned to face you. “I’m not gonna forget, hun,” he reassured you. He couldn’t blame your worry, given the fact that he’s working this close to the wedding date. “You tend to get carried away with work,” you mumbled as you adjusted his collar. You glanced at the time, five P.M. “Hey,” he moved your gaze back to him. “I’m not gonna leave you hanging,” he spoke softly.
He doubled over, coughing. “Leon!” you tried to keep him from collapsing. “Leon,” you whispered as he stopped coughing, leaving him breathless. “I’m okay. Never better,” he croaked, shrugging it off. “You don’t have to work right now. You’re sick, Leon—“
“No, I can do this,” he looked at you. “I can do this.”
Well, that aged well.
Leon found himself scurrying through Raccoon City in a tuxedo on October ninth. “Talk about balancing work and personal life,” he grunted as he mounted the motorbike. He glanced at his watch, four P.M. He had three hours to make it back in time for his own damn wedding. “Should’ve took the day off,” he muttered as the bike roared to life.
He sped off through the detonated gate, speeding through the broken highways of Raccoon City. Though, it wasn’t long before Victor Gideon interrupted the ride.
“You better not get into any trouble anytime soon,” you mumbled as you dozed off on his chest. You both had just arranged a private ceremony with an officiator at city hall. You both couldn’t care less for a grand wedding. “When have I ever?” he grinned down at you with that familiar smugness. You were quick to sit up and slap his chest, “I’m serious, Leon. I don’t want you getting hurt or worse—“
He immediately sat up and pulled you into his lap, effectively shutting you up, “Hey, hey.” He looked at you, “Don’t think like that. You know I’ll always come back to you.” You sighed, dropping your head against his shoulder, “I can’t help it. There’s always gonna be that chance, Leon. You know there is.” He hushed you, holding you tighter, “I’m not gonna leave you. Not now, not when I’ve married you, not ever.”
He gently cupped your face in his rough hand, “You’re the reason why I keep myself alive.”
Leon groaned as feral wolves chased after him. He was quick to shoot them down whilst evading Victor’s rocket launcher. “Son of a bitch,” Leon muttered when a rocket soared through the sky, wrecking the side of a tall, abandoned building. With the blast, the building’s stability began to crumble.
The building collapsed in front of him, blocking the road. Frustrated, Leon turned to take a detour. He sped over the rubble, swerving and leaping off of the fallen debris. He swerved onto the fallen building, watching as it only led upwards from there. He cranked the speed of bike, pushing him further up the ramp of a building.
I don’t want you getting hurt or worse—
The words resonated in his head as he pushed the bike to its final stretch before he flew over the building’s edge. The momentum carrying him up into the air before he landed onto the other side, unscathed and unharmed. He felt some relief wash over him when he was quickly drawn back from the intensity of the moment. He had just driven and leapt off a building, living to tell the tale. Maybe it would’ve been a story for the grandkids someday.
He was quick to make it back on the main road, only to be cut off by the doctor himself. Quickly thinking, Leon embedded the hatchet into Victor’s own bike before speeding off towards the road’s end. He halted and faced his enemy, who sat a few meters away from him. His grip on his gun tightened as he revved the bike’s engine, provoking the man.
With no further warning, the two sped towards each other at an alarming speed. Leon was quick to point and aim at Victor, shooting the bike’s tank in the process. The damage was enough to disorient the bike, spiraling it out of Victor’s control. As a result, he flew over the edge and down to the ground—an explosion soon following.
Leon neared the road’s end, peering over the damage, “Should’ve worn a helmet.”
With that, Leon made his way to Raccoon City’s center, hoping to find Grace and a cure to his damn disease before making it back to you.
ARK was nothing special for Leon. Everything still tried to kill him. Despite that, he carried on with the thought of you heavy on his mind. He coughed and wheezed, pushing himself onto the golden-hued surface. Blood splattered out of his agape mouth, his body collapsing against the door. He glanced at his watch again, five forty-seven P.M.
October ninth, seven P.M. at city hall.
He had an hour and thirteen minutes to meet you at that altar in city hall. What killed him was the possibility that he might not make it after all. “Fuck,” he coughed again, his vision blurring. “Fuck, I’m sorry…” he whispered with you on mind.
“I’m so sorry…”
He groaned softly as he spent a few more thrusts in you before collapsing onto your damp skin. Tonight had been one of the most passionate nights you’ve had together. He had taken you out for dinner before he had quietly popped the question. You had said yes before he could finish saying it. You both enjoyed each other’s company modestly before it collapsed in his Porsche—further escalating when you both made it home.
You panted alongside him, catching your breaths from the afterglow of pure bliss. “You’re so good to me,” you whispered, letting your head fall back against the pillows. You felt him nod and kiss your jaw, “You deserve only the best.” You chuckled, “Really?” He moved to hover over you, “Really.” He dropped down to give you another deep kiss, full of utter love and devotion. He eventually nipped your lip, causing you to moan softly.
He grinned smuggly at your reaction, “Maybe I need to show you your worth again.”
“Hey! It’s me. It’s Grace,” she shook him. Panic set in quick at his lack of response, “Please wake up.” She continued to try and wake the man, desperate and afraid. With a final shake, she heard him stir awake. Relief immediately flooded Grace as she succeeded, “Hey…” Leon was quick to gruffly respond, “Hey you. I was just resting my eyes.” He coughed once more. “You’re okay,” Grace reassured him. Soon, she moved to help him up. She lifted him and he glanced down at her, “Let’s do this.”
With that, the two stepped back into the fight, ready to face Zeno and destroy Elpis once and for all.
“They called,” Sherry spoke softly as he drove to Raccoon City. “They did?” Leon was quick to divert his attention to the girl. “What did you say?” his voice held tension and guilt. He didn’t need any more to know you had called about him. He hadn’t come home last night.
“I said you were helping Chris home,” she spoke through the phone. “That worked?” he spoke gruffly. She let out a soft laugh, “I convinced them that it’s bad luck to see each other before the wedding ceremony.” He chuckled at her words, “Hopefully that’s enough to ease them for a bit.” They both shared another laugh. Silence followed before Sherry spoke again, “You’re getting married in a couple of hours. Are you sure you can pull this off?”
Leon sighed as his eyes drifted to the road, “Victor said he had the answers. This could be our chance to get rid of this goddamn disease.” He heard Sherry sigh, “You’re right, but what if you don’t make it back? What would they think?” His grip tightened on the wheel, “If I turn around now—if I don’t find a cure, I won’t make it back regardless.” He looked at the photo of you dangling from his rear view mirror, “If I do, I need them to know I died wanting to keep them safe…wanting to keep myself alive to spend the rest of my life with them. I was fighting for them.”
“You really are in love,” she lightly teased, quite moved at his devotion to you. “You’ll make it. I’m sure you’ll make it,” she reassured him. “Maybe even in time to marry them right after all this mess,” she joked. “I’m sure they won’t mind you attending in combat wear,” she chuckled at the thought. Leon grinned as his eyes found the plastic covering in the back of the Porsche, “Would they kill me if I were to make a statement?”
“A statement?” Sherry asked, confused with how words. “What are you talking about?” she asked. Leon chuckled, “To save time, I figure I’d run through Raccoon in a nicely pressed suit.” He could just see Sherry’s eyes widening, “Wouldn’t that ruin the suit?” Leon’s grin widened, “They’ve always had a knack for symbolism. Imagine how romantic it’d be showing up in a state to prove how far I’m willing to go just to be with them.” Sherry laughed loudly through the phone, “You’re insane. Absolutely insane, Leon. That’s one hell of a statement to make, especially on your wedding day.”
He neared Raccoon City with a smug grin, “I should probably change then.”
“Maybe we can save her,” Leon told Grace as she sat in the ambulance. If Grace could give him hope, perhaps he could help her too. The two exchanged smiles before he walked away, dropping the leather gloves to reveal his cured and healing hands. He dug into his pocket, pulling out a pair of wedding bands. He slipped one on, not wanting to wait any longer. Hopefully you’d still accept the other one.
After a brief chat with Sherry, she spoke one last time, “I’ve gotta get ready for the ceremony. Hopefully your statement isn’t as bad as it seems. I’ll see you there.” Leon chuckled, “I’ve got it covered.” With that, the line went dead and Leon was left alone. He glanced at his watch one more time, six forty-seven P.M.
He cursed softly and looked around. He noticed a news chopper wrapping up and packing their equipment. He quickly walked over to them, “Hey, uh, can I hitch a ride?” He asked the reporter, who looked equally as confused as the rest of the team. He smiled awkwardly, “I got, uh, I got a wedding to catch.”
“Fuck,” you mumbled as you paced the hallway, your wedding attire creasing with the stress you’re in. You glanced at the clock, seven twelve P.M. “Oh my god…” you buried your face into your hands. “Hey!” you looked up to find Sherry rushing to you. “Sherry!” you hugged her, relieved and worried. “Where have you been? Where has he been? You told me he was—“
She tried to calm you down, “We’ll explain everything later, but he’s on his way. I don’t know how, but he’s—“
“They’re ready for you,” Claire poked her head through the large doors. She noticed Sherry and the lack of Leon, “Where’s Leon?” Sherry spoke softly, “He’s on his way.” She nodded and looked up at you, “Let’s get you inside before you pass out in this hallway. At least save you the modesty.” You complied and walked into the room. It wasn’t grand, but it was just enough. You saw close friends and family seated, smiling at you—and you shakily smiled back. Claire and Sherry situated you at the altar near the officiator before taking their rightful seats.
Chris looked at them, “No sign?” Sherry confirmed, “He’s on his way. I don’t know how he’ll make it in time though. I had just gotten off the line with him almost half an hour ago.” Chris chuckled and shook his head, “You best believe that man is gonna make it work.” The three settled in their seats, hoping their friend didn’t fuck it up.
The silence was soon broken by the sound of a helicopter descending outside city hall. “What the hell?” you looked out the window before turning to Chris, who shrugged and confirmed it wasn’t him. You looked at the officiator who apologized for the inconvenience, seemingly unaware of it as well.
The sound of rapid footsteps sounded through the hallway before the doors burst open. Everyone shockingly looked to find a disheveled Leon Kennedy—his suit dirty and bloody with his eyes frantic. You were quick to move your feet, pulling him close to you in relief, “You’re here, you’re here…” He held you close, listening to your words, “Yeah, I’m here.” He pulled away slightly, “I’m sorry for being…fashionably late. Consider this my wedding statement.” You looked him over, noticing the black marks no longer there, “Leon…” He kissed your knuckles, “I had to. It was the only way I could vow to spend the rest of our lives together.” He kissed you softly before glancing at the altar, “Let’s go get married.”
With that, he led you back to the altar—ready and willing.
When it was time to exchange rings, he dug into his pocket to find the silver band. “I couldn’t wait to put mine on,” he admitted, glancing at the ring occupying his ring finger. He held up the symbol in his hands, teasing, “Will you still be mine forever or will you be the one to object the wedding?” You laughed quietly, “Shut up and ring me.” He grinned and slid the ring onto your finger, solidifying the union.
The officiator smiled at the moment and cleared his throat, “By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and—oh!”
Leon hadn’t waited and immediately pulled you in for a deep kiss. The officiator chuckled and announced you both as his last name. Cheers interrupted from your small audience. From there, Leon knew exactly where he wanted to be. As long as he had you in his arms, he’d do anything to keep you in them.
𝔗𝔢𝔯𝔯𝔦𝔱𝔬𝔯𝔦𝔞𝔩 𝔦𝔫𝔰𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔠𝔱
Leon Kennedy (RE2,RE4,RE9) x male reader
Summary: inside the ruined R.P.D. together with your long crush best friend, time fractures and Leon keeps finding you. Younger, older, hardened by years you haven’t lived yet, every version of him seeming to have a deep and intimate connection. Soon, once all three counterparts come into contact, protectiveness from each one of them sharpens into possession and than in a heated, unspoken competition, each of them determined to prove they know you better, can make you unravel faster.
Tags: No use of Y/N. Male reader. Older men. Age gap. Top and dominant Leon Kennedy. Resident evil 2 Leon. Resident evil 4 remake Leon. Resident evil Requiem Leon. Implied established relationship. Implied marriage. Protective behavior. Possessive behavior. Jealousy. Anal sex. Blowjob. Riding. Hand job. Overstimulation. Cum inflation. Multiple penetration. Overstimulation. Triple penetration.
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ℳ𝒶𝓈𝓉ℯ𝓇𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉
Words count: 8000
The R.P.D. lobby felt cavernous but not from its size but rather for the lack of survivors or police force, leaving behind a hollow silence that pressed faintly against your ears.
Dust hung everywhere, faintly visible in the dim, fractured light filtering through high windows and the marble floors were now streaked with grime and darker stains you refused to examine too closely.
Leaning back against one of the wooden desks, edge digging faintly into your lower spine through the layers of your gear, arms wrapped tightly across your chest. The tactical vest felt heavier with its straps that snug across your shoulders.
Your fingers tucked under your arms, gripping your sleeves, more for something to hold than warmth.
Leon stood a few steps away, hands raised slightly as he adjusted his own vest, tugging at the straps and outlining the firm lines beneath in a way that was hard not to notice even in a situation like this and his brows furrowed as he glanced around, blue eyes wide with disbelief and tension.
“This place is completely empty,” he muttered, voice echoing.
Tilting your head back slightly, eyes half-lidded as they stared toward the ceiling for a moment before answering.
“Considering what’s happening outside,” you muttered, shifting your weight and glancing toward the shuttered entrance, “I’m not surprised.”
Your gaze drifted back to him, watching the way his jaw tightened just a fraction as he processed that.
“We should check if anyone’s still here,” you added after a beat, pushing yourself off the desk just slightly. “This is where we were supposed to start, right? First day.”
There was something faintly bitter about the way the words landed.
Leon nodded quickly, almost reflexively. “Yeah. Yeah, you’re right.”
His attention shifted toward the gate leading to the est side of the station, shoulders squaring just a bit in instinctive readiness.
He stepped closer, eyes scanning the mechanism and you followed more slowly, arms dropping from your chest as you approached.
His fingers hovering near the big red button there and, when he pressed it, the mechanism groaned to life with a grinding sound that echoed down the hallway beyond.
The gate began to lift, slow and uneven, metal scraping faintly as it rose just enough to create a narrow gap before it abruptly stopped.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Irritation in your tone flaring sharper than you expected.
Leon lowered himself down onto the floor without hesitation despite the dark smears that streaked across the tiles, metallic and stale smell hitting faintly.
He didn’t seem to care, or maybe he was just better at pushing it aside.
Lying flat, he angled his body toward the gap, one arm stretching forward as he clicked on his flashlight, the beam cutting into the darkness beyond.
You should have been focused on that but, instead, your gaze betrayed you as it dropped and lingered.
The vest hugged his back and stretched over defined lines of broad but not bulky shoulders.
Leon shifted, then quickly pulled himself back from the gap, pushing up onto one knee.
“I’m gonna check it out,” he said, lowering the flashlight slightly as he looked up at you. “There might be people down there.”
“What?” The response came out sharper than intended as you dropped down to one knee yourself, instinct kicking in. “No—no, I’m coming with you.”
Angling yourself toward the opening, ready to follow him through the narrow space despite the mess and smell. “I’m not letting you go alone.”
For a split second, surprise flickered across his face along something softer underneath it that made his eyes warm.
He reached out before you could move further, his hand settling on your shoulder.
It wasn’t rough or forceful, warm even through the layers of fabric.
“Hey,” he said, voice dropping just a little, gentler, like he was trying to ease you rather than argue. His thumb shifted slightly where it rested, the corners of his mouth lifted to form a small.
“I’ll be back in no time,” he continued, his tone carrying that quiet confidence that made it hard to argue, even when you wanted to. “You stay here, alright? If anyone comes in, they’re gonna need someone to help them.”
His hand squeezed your shoulder lightly before he pulled back.
And you hated how easily that look in his eyes unraveled your resolve.
So you nodded and watched him disappear through the narrow opening.
Time stretched as you tried to convince yourself that he’d be back any second.
It felt like hours had passed of barely shifting your weight, pacing a short line near the table to somehow make time move faster.
“Idiot,” you muttered under your breath, though whether it was directed at him or yourself wasn’t entirely clear.
Probably both.
Scrubbing a hand over your face, exhaling sharply as frustration coiled tighter in your chest.
All because, when he looked at you in that soft and earnest look, it felt… too good.
He wanted to protect you because you mattered to him.
That was the closest thing you were ever going to get, wasn’t it?
A hand on your shoulder, a promise he might not even be able to keep.
You bit the inside of your cheek, the sharp sting grounding just enough to break the spiral.
Enough.
Waiting wasn’t doing anything.
If he wasn’t coming back, you needed to find out why.
Turning on your heel and moving toward the lobby’s computer system, fingers moving quickly over the controls as you pulled up the camera feeds. The screens flickered to life one by one, each showing a different part of the station as you cycled through them, faster and faster, scanning for any sign of him.
Faint gunshots echoed through the speakers from one of the west side cameras.
You had trained for this, graduated alongside him and gone through the same drills and expectations.
That bright and determined smile will not be the last thing you’ll see of him.
Turning toward the taped gate, your eyes caught a knife half-hidden near the base.
Crouching and picking it up carefully before using the blade to slide under the tape with a satisfying rip, sound loud in the quiet lobby as you worked through the layers, peeling them away one by one until the controls were finally exposed.
A large red button sat at the center and, once pressed, the mechanism groaned, gate lifting steadily and fully without stopping.
Standing there for a second as the opening widened before stepping forward.
The room you forced your way into was smaller than you expected, more of a cramped connector than a proper office.
Gun forward and flashlight aligned just beneath it as you advanced, beam cutting clean lines through the dimness, illuminating overturned chairs and a smear of something dark dragged across the floor, breathing staying controlled even as your pulse pressed harder against your throat.
At the far end, a door that you already knew where it led with the map you’d studied moments ago burned into your mind, that long hallway stretching across the west side.
Your hand reached for the handle slowly, fingers tightening just slightly before you turned it.
Rather than rapidly invading the room, you shifted to the side, pressing your back lightly against the wall as you pushed the door open to create a narrow angle, your head tilting so you could peek through first, minimizing your profile the way you’d been taught.
Two figures at the far end of the hallway, slumped awkwardly against the wall, head tilted at an unnatural angle, skin pale in the weak wash of moonlight spilling through a distant window.
Your breath caught at closer look on the other one.
Even in partial shadow and the distortion of low light, your heart recognized Leon immediately.
Pushing the door open wider and stepping in, feet quiet against the floor as you approached, closing the distance carefully until you were no more than ten feet away.
He was kneeling near the body of a cop, from the look of the uniform, sprawled across the tiles and as your boot made the faintest sound against the ground Leon moved insanely quick, surging up from his kneeling position in one fluid, coiled motion, pivoting sharply as his arm snapped up, handgun already aligned with your center mass while his flashlight flared directly into your face, blinding in its intensity.
“Don’t—!” The word cut sharp and rough, far more hardened than the voice you had heard in the lobby.
Everything about him was different, stance much tighter and efficient, the way he held the gun was fluid and practiced under pressure.
The jacket he had on hit you first.
A thick B-3 bomber, shearling lining spilling out at the collar in pale, dense curls that brushed against his neck.
Scuffs marked the surface, subtle creases worn into the leather.
Beneath it, his frame was… bigger.
Not just lean like you had always seen him, but built. Arms filling the sleeves, faint strain across his chest when he shifted his aim.
His hair was slightly longer, falling just enough to frame his face differently.
But his eyes were still blue and unmistakably his, cold at first.
Recognition morphed his features as tension in his shoulders faltered and his gaze locked onto your face.
His gun lowered, flashlight dipping with it, no longer blinding you but instead casting a softer glow that revealed his expression fully now.
Not just recognition swarmed his face, something warmer as well came in that settled low in your chest.
“You’re here too, Babe?” He said, voice rougher than anything you’d ever heard from him before.
Heat flooded your face instantly, sudden and overwhelming, brain stumbling over itself trying to process that along with everything else.
“What?” Your eyes narrowed despite the warmth creeping up your neck. “Leon, what are you talking about? We came in here together.”
That only made his confusion deepen, brows pulling together, gaze flicking around the hallway as his jaw tightened, like every inch of this place held memories you couldn’t see but he could feel pressing in on him.
Your gaze broke from his haunted one, dragging instead toward the cop with his jaw completely torn on the side and hanging awkwardly, his head lolled back against the wall.
“Did you see who—” You swallowed hard, forcing the bile back down but stopped talking after seeing Leon’s attention fixed upward, body tense again in focused attention.
There were a jagged hole in the ceiling before something too large and wrong, tipped with elongated claw-like fingers, erupted from it.
An inhuman shriek split the air, vibrating through your bones as the thing pulled itself into view.
Its body was flayed, muscle exposed in slick, glistening strands that stretched and contracted as it moved, skin entirely absent as if peeled away to reveal the anatomy beneath. Its head was made of an exposed brain that pulsed faintly, vulnerable and yet somehow more horrifying for it.
A long tongue snaked outside of his mouth as it crawled forward with unnatural speed.
Leon’s large and gloved hand found yours.
“Yeah,” he muttered, already pulling you with him, pace immediate and urgent as he dragged you down the hallway. “Because one nightmare wasn’t enough.”
His tone was dry, edged with a sharp sarcastic bite that felt completely out of place.
You stumbled slightly trying to keep up, grip tightening on your gun as your feet scrambled to match his speed, the world blurring at the edges as adrenaline surged and from behind that tongue lashed out.
A violent tug came at your back as it latched onto your uniform, fabric stretching and tearing as the force yanked hard, ripping away fully your gears and layers beneath, the sudden exposure sending a sharp chill across your skin as the creature lost its grip just as quickly.
Leon didn’t let you go until he hit hard two doors, bursting through with brute force as they slammed open and dragging you inside with him in one continuous motion.
Soon after he pulled you in his arms, back colliding with his chest in a solid impact.
The thickness of his chest pressed against you through the layers acting like a pillow, pecs firm and broad, rising and falling with controlled breaths that you could feel against your back. Beneath that, even through the tight shirt, there was no mistaking the defined strength of his torso.
This was not the same Leon you’ve known for many years, not even close.
His arm wrapped around your chest, bicep thick and swelling as they locked you in place against him as his other hand raised the gun again, aiming past you toward the doorway just as the creature dropped down.
One shot and the bullet precisely struck its exposed brain with a wet impact, the shriek it let out was high-pitched and furious before it skittered back, retreating with unnatural speed.
Leon moved fast, pulling away just long enough to slam the doors shut, grabbing a chair and jamming it under the handle as guttural groans from zombies echoed from the other side.
Heavy banging followed relentlessly.
Adrenaline faded away and your legs crashed all at once, dropping you to the ground as the reality of everything hit in a dizzying wave.
Before you could fully process it he was there, kneeling in front of you.
“Hey…hey,” his hand came up to cradle your cheek, large and warm, thumb brushing lightly against your skin in a way that felt impossibly gentle and intimate. “Babe, look at me.”
“What year is it?” he asked.
The question, like everything else happening, hit wrong.
“1998,” you answered, confusion twisting tighter as the pounding on the door grew louder. “Why are you asking me that?”
Something shifted in his eyes in understanding.
Without another word, he shrugged off his jacket quickly and draped it around your shoulders, pulling it snug around you with careful hands, fingers brushing against your arms as he adjusted it.
It was warm and soft on the inside, shearling lining cushioning against your skin, scent of leather and his wrapped all around your frame.
“There we go,” his lips quivered slightly as he muttered, almost to himself. “You always like to take it from me. Still cute.”
The chair behind him shifted as it toppled over once the doors burst open, two figures stumbling in, decayed and groaning.
Leon moved instantly up on his feet, gun raised and the first shot snapped clean through one of their skulls, impact jerking its head back as it staggered.
He didn’t wait, closing the distance in a flash, knife in hand, so similar to yours it made your breath hitch, and drove it into the creature’s neck with brutal precision before pivoting sharply.
His leg came up in a powerful roundhouse kick that connected solidly with the second zombie’s head, force snapping it sideways as it collapsed.
“Go,” he said, voice sharp and commanding without even looking back at you when he spoke. “I’ll catch up.”
Reluctantly you followed his command and the door on the other side gave way under your hand with a reluctant creak, hinges whining low and the moment the gap widened enough for your body to slip through, the air changed.
Another hallway narrower than the last. Two doors sat on either side, one to your right the other on the left, both shut tight, undead police officers lurked further down the corridor.
Three or maybe four of them. One brushed against the wall with a dull thud, leaving behind a smear that caught the weak light while another let out a wet groan that echoed enough to make the space feel smaller.
Your heart hammered so hard it felt like it might give you away on its own, each pulse loud in your ears, drowning out everything else for a second as your mind raced.
Fingers tightening around your handgun, familiar weight grounding you enough to push past the spike of panic clawing up your spine.
You lifted the weapon slowly, arms steady despite the tremor trying to creep in, lining up your shot on the nearest one.
One trigger and the muzzle flashed in a brief burst of red-orange light for a split second before the bullet hit clean, tearing through rotted flesh and bone.
Zombie’s head burst open as the body collapsed instantly, crumpling to the ground in a lifeless heap that twitched once before going still.
A high and piercing screech followed down the hallway, claws scraping fast on concrete until the Licker came into view above like some grotesque parody of a spider.
Its brain pulsed, fully exposed, shifting slightly with each tilt of its head to listen and figure out where the noise came from.
Engaging that thing with the amount of ammo you had left was suicide.
So you moved slowly with agonizing care, boots barely whispering against the floor as you edged along the hallway, gun still raised but your finger easing off the trigger.
A low, clicking sound left its throat, tongue twitching faintly between rows of jagged teeth, tasting the air and searching.
Almost there at the other side of the hallway, a sudden bang on the window shattered everything.
Your head snapped toward the source instinctively, eyes widening as you caught glass exploding inward as a zombie forced its way through, collapsing into the hallway in a mess of limbs and broken shards, a guttural groan tearing from its throat as it dragged itself forward.
Above you the Licker froze, its entire body snapped toward the noise with terrifying speed, attention locking instantly onto the new arrival and moved fast.
It dropped from the ceiling and landed directly onto the zombie with a crushing impact, claws sinking deep as it let out a shriek, claws ripping through decayed flesh.
It was right in front of you blocking your path completely.
Behind a groan came and you turned sharply just in time to see another zombie lunge forward, arms outstretched as, in turn, it grabbed the Licker’s attention.
This was it, your grip tightened on your gun, breath catching as you braced for impact.
Something moved fast from behind the zombie, soon followed by a wet, slicing noise from an hatchet that pierced the back of the zombie’s skull, bursting through bone and rotten flesh in a spray of viscous blood as the creature’s body jerked violently, head tilting upward in a final motion.
For a second all you saw was the hand wrapped tight around the metal handle, veins faintly visible beneath the skin, grip steady and controlled.
Then he stepped forward fully into view and twisted in a brutal 180-degree turn of the wrist along the blade that followed, head coming off clean and body dropping in a useless heap as the hatchet came free.
Behind you, the Licker snarled, dragging your attention back and instincts screaming as your gun came up again, finger tightening on the trigger but he moved first.
Stepping in front of you and for a moment all you could see was a broad and solid back that filled your vision, a tight black shirt clinging to him and stretched across wide shoulders.
They rolled slightly as he adjusted his stance, the motion slow and controlled that made the muscles beneath that shirt ripple.
The Licker’s tongue attacked fast as a whip but he reacted faster, hatchet intercepting the strike mid-air and not only pairing it, but fully slicing the tongue.
It hit the ground writhing, twitching violently like a snake and the creature let out a shriek of pure agony, stumbling back as both of its clawed hands came up toward its ruined mouth, movements almost human in their panic.
“Follow me.” His voice, just like the last figure you met, felt familiar in a way that hit somewhere deep in your chest, even if your mind couldn’t place it yet with how much rougher it was.
He moved forward, closing the distance in two quick strides before driving his boot up straight into the exposed brain.
The impact was brutal, forcing the creature on the ground for him to bury the hatchet deep, infected blood spilling out around it in heavy, dark rivulets before he ripped it free in one clean motion.
“Move.”
Up the stairs, your legs barely keeping pace with him as he led the way without hesitation like he knew every inch of this place.
The upper floor opened into another corridor, steam already hissing somewhere ahead, thick clouds spilling out and blocking the path entirely except, he didn’t stop, swinging the hatchet against metal that gave way under repeated strikes, damaged pipe bursting further as the pressure shifted, steam redirecting, clearing just enough space for him to push through.
You hesitated just for a second before a gurgle from a zombie cut through the air that gave reasons to your legs to move past the showers and around the corner just in time to see him drive a punch into a zombie’s spine, forcing it down before that hatchet came down again, ending it with the same efficiency.
He checked behind him again rapidly still not seeing your face with how dark the hallway was.
The door at the end opened into a small room with bright light and the statue of a gazelle right at the center.
His gaze lingered on it, something unreadable passing through his expression before he turned to the creaking of the door.
“You the only survivor in h—” The question came out low and rough before he stopped, pupils tightening before widening again.
“…No,” he exhales under his breath, barely audible. His grip tightens slightly around the hatchet.
The same reaction erupted on your face as well at seeing Leon again, though much older. His face carried lines that hadn’t been there before, jaw stronger and scruffy with the stubble that decorated it. Same hairstyle but slightly longer, falling just enough to frame eyes that were duller now.
And his body was bigger by the look of that dark shirt stretched across his chest, arms thicker, veins faintly visible beneath skin.
Aged like fine wine didn’t even begin to cover it.
“…Alright,” he breathed, more composed now, though the roughness hasn’t left his voice. “Either I finally lost it or something’s seriously wrong.”
His eyes flick briefly around the room before turning and walking outside straight into the library, waiting for this nightmare to end immediately.
What else could you do beside following him?
The vast space had shelves towering high the more you got closer to them, filled with books and an atmosphere that seemed almost normal despite the hell outside.
Of which you got immediately reminded of when something cold and rotten grabbed your leg.
A corpse on the floor jerked to life, fingers tightening that didn’t get far as Leon’s (?) foot came down hard, crushing the skull as his weight pressed into it fully, thick muscles of his thigh flexing with the motion, muscle tightening under the fabric as he applied more pressure, grinding the remains into the floor before pulling back, wiping his shoe clean in one smooth motion.
“You really haven’t changed,” he said, a hint of dry amusement threading through his voice now. “Still walking into trouble, sweetheart.”
Heat flared up your neck instantly.
“What do you—”
From behind him there was movement done stealthily so well you’ve only now registered it, knife already raised and angled for a clean slice across the throat.
The older Leon in front of you didn’t needed a warning, arm suddenly wrapping and tightening around your waist as that large bicep locked in and dragged you alongside him, body pulled flush against his side as he pivoted sharply out of the attack’s path.
The knife cut through empty air where his neck had been a fraction of a second earlier before charging again and his hatchet came up, both hands bracing it for control.
Metal met metal with a biting clang fore his leg snapped forward to send a brutal kick to the attacker’s chest, forceful enough to send the man flying back into a stack of old books that collapsed under him in a cascade of dust and paper, sound loud in the enclosed space followed by a grunt.
Your eyes snapped to the Leon who gave you his jacket as he recovered with frightening speed, already pushing himself up and reaching for his weapon, bicep viewable from the short sleeved compression shirt he had on bulging in the process.
“Back off,” he said, voice tight and restrained. “Leave him alone. Now.”
A protective tone that hit harder than the gun pointed forward.
Another sound of a safety disengaging followed and all three heads in the room turned towards it.
Your Leon, one you had walked into this nightmare with, with his Matilda raised in both hands, stance just a little too stiff and textbook compared to the others, but his aim didn’t waver as he pointed it at both of them.
“D-don’t move!” he ordered in a firm voice, blue eyes not scanning tactically but locked specifically on the hand at your waist, gaze lingering there a second too long, jaw tightening just slightly, fingers adjusting on the grip of his gun like he needed something to ground himself before his eyes flicked back up.
“Let him go,” he added, quieter but more pointed.
The arm around you tightened as he pulled you back against him by a fraction, spine brushing his solid chest.
“M’not keeping him hostage,” he said dryly, tone edged with something almost amused, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “‘Sides… M’not the one waving a gun around.”
Your Leon’s grip flexed as a flicker of hesitation crossed his eyes and you shouted his name the moment you saw the movement near him from the one now jacketless who closed the distance in a blur, his hand snapping up to knock the gun off its aim.
A shot rang out loud, slamming somewhere into the shelves above as the weapon was forced upward and, in the same motion, he disarmed him completely, twisting the gun free before shoving him hard to the ground.
“Shit—!” You broke free without thinking to rush forward and drop to your knees beside him.
“Leon are you okay?!” Up close he looked worse than when you left him, dirt smeared across his uniform, streaks of grime and something darker along his sleeves, hair slightly disheveled and breathing heavier.
“Are you okay?” he asked instead, voice tight with concern, scanning you quickly. “Did they—did they hurt you?”
“Why would I hurt my boyfriend?” A low, almost amused voice cut in, dry in disbelief while the figure extracted the magazine of the Matilda.
“What?” The man right next to you snapped, pushing himself up quickly, anger bleeding into his tone as he turned toward the speaker.
“What the hell are you talking about—” Arm moving before he seemed to think about it and wrapping around your waist to pull you back toward him, firm enough that you felt the way his bicep tightened against your side, holding you close.
The other Leon juggling a knife in hand tilted his head slightly, watching him with an expression that bordered on entertained while the hatchet-wielder leaned casually against a desk, dragging a sharpening stone along its edge in strokes that sent small sparks of orange flickering in the dim light.
“Relax,” he muttered, voice carrying that same rough, worn edge, though there was something almost nostalgic in it now. “You’ll get there.”
The younger one’s grip on you tightened slightly.
“Get where?” he shot back.
The man with the hatchet didn’t look up immediately, continuing the motion, metal against stone, the rhythm steady.
“Still before the train, huh,” the other Leon in a tight compression shirt and knife in hand said, almost to himself, though it was loud enough for all of you to hear. “Our first time together.”
Words loaded with meaning as he looked at you almost dreamily and it made heat spike through your chest.
The older one just huffed quietly, finally glancing up with something knowing in his expression.
“Yeah,” he added, almost fondly, as another spark jumped from the blade. “I remember that.”
Heat, heavy and dizzying, crawled under your skin under those six blue eyes, each a different shade but all carrying hunger locked onto you.
The much older one had pushed you on top of the first desk available with a quiet grunt, hatchet set aside without a second thought as his attention settled fully on you.
“Still got that same look… every time.” He murmured, voice a gruff baritone while his gaze dragged and took in every detail
Everything happened too fast.
The one near your age had his grip on your waist now, tightening like he was grounding himself before he let instinct take over. His fingers slid under the edge of that jacket still draped over your frame currently displayed on the desk for the three men around, brushing your now bare skin in a way that was almost shy and hesitant compared to the others.
A gloved hand caught your chin, tilting and forcing your gaze to meet his forward. His thumb dragged slowly across your bottom lip, pressing enough to part it as his eyes darkened with amused.
“Didn’t think you’d look this good in my jacket even now,” he murmured, voice dipping lower, teasing, that familiar edge of cocky charm sharpened into something far more dangerous.
The same culprit who took pleasure at slicing away the remaining of your clothes with his precise experience with that knife.
Your stomach flipped at the sensation of blunt and wide fingers pressing in with a knowing confidence that made your breath stutter, his chest brushing your back as he leaned in enough for his stubble to graze your neck.
“Easy,” he muttered against your skin, lips ghosting over the spot right below your ear before his teeth caught lightly in a teasing bite. “We’ve got time… gonna make sure you can take it.”
Slowly, one thick finger invaded your hole and the stretch came immediate, his other hand coming around your front to wrap around your now exposed cock at the same time.
Body jolting as his grip tightened, thumb brushing over the tip, spreading the first slick hint of precome just his finger curled inside you, realizing how he knew exactly where to press.
“Still this tight,” he hummed, voice coarse with approval, breath hot against your neck as his pace stayed slow but purposeful.
Your head fell forward as all your muscles relaxed to get through this and that was all the invitation the other two needed.
Knife-welding-Leon took the moment your mouth gasped in need of more oxygen and claimed it hard, lips crashing into yours with confidence that stole the remaining supplies of oxygen right out of your lungs, tongue pushing past instantly, claiming space and exploring deep with a low groan that vibrated straight inside your mouth.
Hand staying on your face and holding you in place as his tongue fought against yours, going deeper and more insistent to savor everything.
Behind that another thick intrusion came together the already existing one, thick fingers scissoring slowly, stretching you with patience and devoted work.
His thumb pressed harder against your cock now, stroking in a steady rhythm that matched the curl of his fingers inside.
Your body didn’t know where to focus as pleasure sparked everywhere, overlapped and built from each touch feeding into the next until it felt like your nerves were short-circuiting.
“Christ…” the Leon assaulting your mouth muttered against your mouth, pulling back just enough for his lips to drag down your jaw, teeth grazing your skin.
Your Leon was observing you like you were something fragile and fascinating all at once, hands moving slower than the others at first, careful and exploring on unknown territory unlike his other two counterparts.
They slid up your sides, fingertips brushing over your abdomen, lips following his hands, pressing hesitant kisses along your stomach, each one lingering just a second longer than the last.
Your hips twitched, body leaning into him without thinking and it that was all it took as a shift in his expression came in focus and determination.
“I’ve got you,” he whispered before his mouth moved lower, kissing down your abdomen when a hiss passed through clenched teeth the moment a third finger pushed in.
The sound got swallowed instantly as RE4 Leon pulled you back into another kiss, deeper and rougher, tongue shaking against yours as his hand slid down to your waist, gripping tighter.
Older Leon groaned low at the sound you made.
“Yeah… That’s what I wanted to hear.” He muttered, pace picking up just slightly, fingers driving deeper, curling harder and hitting your prostate again and again until your legs trembled from the assault on that bundle of nerves.
“Gonna take all of us like this?” he added, stubble scratching along your neck as he spoke, lips brushing over the marks already forming there. “Lookin’ this pretty…all worked up already…”
Their presence surrounding you completely, every direction you moved there was one of them as hard things brushed against you, insistingly reminding you constantly of what was coming next.
Leon forward you ground against your hip subtly, breath hitching into your mouth as he deepened the kiss again, tongue sliding slower now, thick tent in his pants stabbing you with more effects than a knife ever could.
Behind you, older Leon’s arousal pressed heavy against your lower back every time his fingers pushed deeper, control slipping enough to let you feel how much he wanted this.
And your Leon shifted closer, his bulge pressing against your side as his lips finally dipped lower, right below your navel.
Warmth spreads through you instantly.
“Tell me if it’s too much,” he murmured softly, even as his hands slid up to your chest, fingers brushing over your nipples experimentally before pressing, rolling them between his fingers.
You gasped again and he froze for just a second before his expression shifted into something quietly thrilled.
“Okay… you like that.” He whispered almost breathless before doing it again, more confidently this time.
“‘Course he does,” older Leon behind muttered, a smirk in his voice as his fingers pumped deeper, faster now, thumb still stroking your cock in sync. “Been paying attention, rookie?”
The loss of those fingers working you open made you whine.
“Yeah… you’re ready,” hatchet-wielding-Leon muttered, his hand coming down to pat your ass.
The loud sound of zippers followed and you shivered in anticipation, immense pressure from a clothed bulge pressing against your gaping hole.
“Don’t tense up,” he added, voice softer now—but no less intense. “Or I’ll have to take my time breakin’ you in myself.”
The one in front of you leaned in, hand sliding over your shoulder, squeezing once.
“Nah, he doesn’t want your old ass,” he murmured close to your lips, voice confident and teasing as his hand moved to your face again, softer now, thumb brushing your lip as he held your gaze.
“C’mon,” he whispered, voice taking a husky edge to it. “Tell ’em you want me first.”
Body moving with importance to the heart as you shifted and presented yourself fully to your Leon before drifting back to the surprise but aroused slightly older version.
A satisfied smile spread across his lips as his hand cradled your face and guided you down until your lips hovered just in front of that big bulge.
“Keep me busy while I wait my turn,” he added, voice low, amused, thumb pressing gently against your lip again. “Yeah?”
One moment you were trembling, stretched open and aching, every nerve lit up from the way older Leon had worked you apart, the next a different pressure followed.
He didn’t push in all at once, especially now, there was carefulness in him always present when it came to you. His hands found your hips first, fingers spreading wide, gripping just enough to steady you as he lined himself up behind.
“Tell me if it’s too much, okay?” He murmured, voice lower than you’d ever heard it, roughened by want but still threaded with that unmistakable sincerity.
He started to push in and God, the first inch alone stole the air from your lungs.
A gasp tore out of you, sharp and helpless, your body instinctively tightening around him as the blunt head of his cock pressed inside, stretching in a way that felt entirely different from the fingers that had prepared you.
He eased forward inch by inch, length sliding deeper into you with a steady, controlled pressure that made your entire body tremble around him as that solid weight filled and warned you up gradually.
“God…” he breathed, the word barely there, head dipping forward slightly, forehead almost brushing your shoulder as he focused on the feeling. “You feel really good..”
Another inch and your back arched as a broken sound left your throat.
It was overwhelming in the best possible way, body struggling to adjust as he sank deeper until he bottomed out.
A small pull back followed by a push forward again.
And that was worse, body reacting instantly, a sharp gasp tearing from your mouth as the movement dragged along every sensitive nerve inside.
The Leon in front of you was watching but waiting as well and, once you did remembered the other presence who you were now entirely sure was the same man currently balls deep inside, your trembling hands moved, reaching for the front of his jacket, then lower, finding the last barrier between you and what you’d been staring at this entire time.
“Go on,” he murmured, voice low and amused as his hand came up to cradle your cheek. “Been thinkin’ about it this whole time, haven’t you?”
Your fingers fumbled slightly with the fabric before finding purchase and pulled.
Fuck, he was hung.
Thick and heavy cock springing free, already flushed and leaking, head glistening under the light.
“Like what you see?” he asked, smirk tugging at his lips.
A question your mouth answered, leaning forward, closing the distance, lips parting as you took him in, tongue dragging along the underside as you guided him deeper, lips stretching around him until you sank down fully, nose brushing his skin as your throat adjusted around his length.
He sucked in a sharp breath.
“Fuck…” he groaned, his hand instantly coming to the back of your head. “There it is…”
You swallowed around him and that broke him in a way. “Yeah…yeah, just like that,” he muttered, voice rough and strained, his hips twitching forward instinctively before he caught himself. “You’re—shit—you’re still perfect at this.”
Behind your Leon groaned at the sight of your throat bulging around his older counterpart’s member, hands tightening on your hips again as his thrusts deepened.
Each push drove him fully into you, length dragging along your walls in a steady rhythm that made your body jolt forward and take more of the cock in your mouth without meaning to.
The connection clicked.
Every thrust from behind pushed you forward onto Leon, mouth forced to take him deeper, throat tightening reflexively around him as his grip in your hair tightened slightly in response.
“Fuck—” he groaned, watching you closely now, his breathing uneven. “Taking both of us like that… you trying to kill me?”
His hands slid up your body, one of them coming to your chest, fingers brushing over your skin in a soft, grounding motion as he watched you carefully.
“Is this okay?” The one behind you asked, voice strained but still so gentle, even now. “You’re— you’re not—”
You moaned around the cock in your mouth.
That was your answer.
“…okay,” he breathed, confidence shifting in his tone, maybe, or just the realization that you wanted this as much as he did.
His thrusts picked up, each one rolling his hips forward just right, dragging against your prostate repeatedly until your legs trembled harder, grip on the table tightening.
In front of you, Leon lost the last bit of restraint.
“Yeah… Take it just like that!” His hips started to move too, meeting your mouth halfway, cock sliding in and out between your lips in sync with the way you were being fucked from behind.
Your Leon leaned closer, chest pressing against your back as his hot breath came against your shoulder.
“You feel so good,” he whispered, almost like he couldn’t believe it, his voice breaking slightly as his pace faltered—then surged again. “I can’t—I can’t stop…”
In front—
“Don’t,” RE4 Leon shot back instantly, a breathless laugh mixing into his voice. “Trust me, he doesn’t want you to.”
Your body proved it as every thrust pulled another sound from you, cock twitching in overstimulation, but not forgotten as a hand wrapped around it suddenly.
“Don’t think I’m sittin’ this out,” he muttered against your ear, voice low and dangerous as his grip tightened just enough to make your hips jerk. “Go on… let go.”
Everything hit at once as a broken sound vibrated around the cock in your throat as you came hard, cock pulsing in his hand as release spilled over your stomach in hot bursts.
The sensation of your throat tightening pushing the one clogging your throat over the edge right after, grip tightening in your hair as he thrust deep one last time, spilling his load into your mouth with a low, strained sound.
Behind your Leon followed, a choked gasp leaving him as he buried himself fully inside you, hips pressing flush against yours as he came, warmth flooding deep inside.
Your body felt like it had been wrung out and put back together wrong, every nerve still buzzing, muscle weak, breath only just beginning to steady as the world slowly stopped spinning around you.
Yet, you were still painfully hard as a quiet, shaky breath left you, hand lifting to find its way to broad, familiar shoulders next to you, firm enough to communicate what your body couldn’t say out loud right away.
A low, knowing huff left him.
“Yeah… figured,” he muttered under his breath, voice rough but edged with that dry humor that never quite left him.
He shifted easily under your touch, turning and sitting back against the table in one smooth motion as you climbed into his lap, body sinking down onto his thick thighs, the heat of him immediately seeping into your skin.
Solid muscle beneath really told you how big he was, legs falling to either side of his hips and his huge tent nudged against your ass, heavy and insistent, blunt heat of it dragging slightly against your oversensitive skin.
A deep groan rumbled out of him instantly and you leaned closer once recovering, voice almost vulnerable.
“Did we… stay together for all those years?”
His grip on your hips loosened slightly, one hand lifting, fingers flexing like he was debating something before deciding and pulling his glove off, holding his hand up just enough for you to see a ring.
“…yeah,” he muttered, glancing at it briefly before his gaze flicked back up to you, a small, crooked smirk pulling at his lips. “Guess I was dumb enough to put up with you every day of my life.”
Sarcasm dry and familiar buy those duller blue eyes softened completely when he saw the happiness on your face that bloomed there before you could even try to hide it.
That was all you needed, leaning in to kiss him, stubble scratching against your jaw rough.
Then his hands tightened on your hips again and he moved you up enough to line himself.
“C’mon,” he muttered against your lips, breath warm, voice dipping lower. “You know the drill.”
He guided you down slowly, body tensing instinctively as the head of his cock pressed against your already slick and stretched opening.
The remnants of the others still coating you, making the slide smoother and easier.
Your mouth fell open as you sank down inch by inch, your hands tightening on his shoulders as your body adjusted again to his size.
“Fuck…” he grunted low, head dropping forward slightly, grip firm but controlled as he guided you.
He bottomed out and felt him pressed deep inside, so far in it almost felt like he was in your stomach, his heartbeat faint but real where your bodies connected.
Whimpering softly and he exhaled sharply at the sound.
“Always take me so good like you were made for it,” he muttered, voice roughening further, hands sliding slightly along your hips, thumbs pressing into your skin as you started to ride him.
Slow and weak at first, legs trembling as you lifted yourself just barely before dropping back down, motion dragging his cock along your walls.
But you didn’t have the strength.
“Easy,” he murmured, large biceps wrapping around your frame to pull you closer, chest pressed against his as he took over.
His thighs tensed beneath you, hands guiding your hips as he started moving you himself, lifting you up, then pulling you back down.
Each movement angled just right, hips tilting slightly to meet you every time, cock brushing against your prostate over and over until your head fell into the crook of his neck, your breath breaking into soft, helpless moans.
His pace didn’t falter, only getting stronger, breathing growing heavier against your skin as he kept you exactly where he wanted, pace picking up.
All until another presence came between your legs.
The other Leon older than you stepped in close, sliding between your spread thighs as you sat in his older counterpart’s lap, cock already hard again as it nudged against your entrance.
Older Leon stilled you instantly, holding you down firmly on his cock as his other hand came up to steady your hip.
“Hold on,” he muttered, glancing down briefly before looking back up at him.
“Relax,” the one about to join shot back. “I know what I’m doing.”
He pushed in, slow and careful, body of yours stretching again, a sharp gasp tearing from your throat as the second intrusion pressed inside alongside the first, walls straining and adjusting on both of them at once.
“Fuck—” you choked, your face pressing into older Leon’s jaw as your body trembled violently.
“Yeah… breathe,” older Leon murmured, his hand coming up to cradle the back of your head, holding you close. “You can take it.”
In front Leon groaned low.
“God, you’re tight,” he muttered, his hands gripping your hips as he slowly worked himself deeper, inch by inch until he was fully seated as well. “Missed this…”
Your body felt impossibly full and overstimulated, every nerve screaming as they both started to move.
Behind them, your Leon stood still, watching in absolute horny surprise.
Your head turned slightly, voice breathy and wrecked as you called out.
“…Leon…”
He blinked like he’d been pulled out of a trance.
“…yeah,” he answered quietly, almost dazed as the other Leon reached back, grabbing his shoulder and pulling him closer.
“Don’t just stand there,” he muttered, amusement laced through his tone. “Make him pleased.”
Just like that he was pulled in closer.
A hand of RE4 Leon’s gripped your ass, spreading you slightly as a thick drip of cum slid down.
Then your body git stretched again by a third presence pressing in.
You cried out, body shaking violently as all three of them filled every inch of you.
They moved together than, hips snapping forward, pulling back, thrusting again as your body was used between them, lifted, held, moved exactly how they wanted.
Kisses pressed against your mouth and neck… teeth grazed your skin along with hands everywhere.
Your mind went blank completely, moans breaking apart into nothing but sound, body giving in completely as they took over, driving you higher and higher again despite how sensitive you already were.
Your body tensed violently as you came again, cock spilling across older Leon’s abs, entire body shaking uncontrollably as the sensation ripped through.
They followed one by one, groans and grunts echoing along bodies tensing, followed by an uncontainable amount of heat filling you.
So much your body struggled to contain it as they emptied themselves inside you, movements slowing but not stopping until every last bit was spent.
that one drabble u wrote about us wearing the same sorta outfit as leon was soooo hooooot!!!! any chance it could become a full thing? it was so good i swear 😭💕
I’m currently working on something that does mention that drabble! It’s essentially one of those “five times he…the one time he…” fics. I’ll try my best to do you justice!!
Imagine being Leon’s spouse as he admires your wrinkles.
“Leon…” you tried to face away as he trailed a finger along the creased skin. “You’re divine, and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise,” he muttered in the dark, the moonlight seeping through your window framing your face for him to see. “Better than wine,” he breathed out as his thumb ran across your bottom lip.
Your cheeks warmed at his words, forcefully turning away this time, “I’m getting wrinkly, Leon. I’m aging.” He scoffed, wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you close. “So you’re human?” he mumbled, trailing his nose against your shoulder and neck. “With everything I’ve seen, you’re the best sight,” he placed gentle kisses against your shoulder. “I don’t care that you’re getting older; I care that you’re mine. A reason to come home and stay alive,” he almost croaked, vulnerable beneath that hard shell of his. Bringing you back to the time you bumped into a mere rookie on his first day in the hell hole that was once Raccoon City.
Your heart bloomed softly, squeezing his forearms around you, “You won’t lose me.” You moved to face him again, “Just promise me I won’t lose you too.”
Can we just say thank you to Nick Apostilides for gracing us with who we call Leon “Sex” Kennedy, the Requiem version? He did a phenomenal job, and I hope he gets to play Leon again later on.
Moving on to other matters, majority of the Leon x reader community (and I occasionally included) wants to do Leon so hard that his bad posture is fixed by the end of the night.
Imagine getting absolutely drenched in your Leon-inspired mission clothes during a job.
“Jump!”
You both threw yourselves over one of the abandoned mine’s ledges, sending you straight towards the pool of murky water below. You had both had been cornered by infected, leaving you with no other choice as there were too many to fend off.
“Leon!” you couldn’t help but yell, bracing yourself into proper position as you hit the waters. The world fell silent as the sound of water mulled your ears. It was extremely dark, and the best thing you could do was swim to the surface.
You broke through the water, gasping as your eyes opened to pitch black. “Leon? Leon!” you swam around, trying to locate him. Arms wrapped around your waist, causing you to instinctively kick in that direction.
Your foot met their skin, causing a pained groan—Leon’s groan. “Leon!” you sighed in relief when you realized it was him. “Are you okay? Did I kick you too hard?” you spoke, wincing when he turned on a flashlight and aimed it at you. You noticed the look of discomfort he tried to mask, “I’ve taken worse.”
Together, you both swam to the nearest surface. He helped and hoisted you out of the water, leaving you both dripping wet. He turned to you, “Stay here. I’ll find a way out.” He walked forward with the flashlight, looking for a way out. His eyes landed on another cave entrance half submerged in water, “Bingo.”
“There’s a way…” he had whirled around with the flashlight, his mouth suddenly dry. You stood there, occupied as you smacked the dirt clumped water out of your shoes. His eyes trailed over your body, watching how the water had drenched your form-fitting clothes—sparing no curve of your body this time as it accentuated everything. “Holy shit…” he breathed out, bug-eyed like a teenager.
You had put your shoe back on and looked at him. “Leon?” you spoke as you saw his face, your eyes looking to see nothing on you or around you. “Leon!” you called again, watching as his eyes had refocused. “What’s wrong?” you approached him, and you could’ve sworn you heard him gulp. “Nothing,” he almost choked. He gave you another look over before acting unbothered, “You could’ve been hurt.”
You watched as he stiffly walked away and towards the cave, knowing now was not the time to pry. You had followed him, peering inside. “It’s our best bet,” he spoke, gently pushing you forwards. “I’ll be right behind you,” he spoke as you both stepped into the water.
A couple minutes in, a noise startled the both of you—causing you both to press up against each other. “What was that?” you whispered softly, alert. “We must be getting close,” he mumbled. You were about to step forward when something firm had brushed up against you, “What was that?” you turned to look at him. He was suspiciously quick to look around in the water with the flashlight.
Inspired by Sabrina Carpenter’s Please Please Please but gender isn’t specified.
Where your pettiness is expressed through song.
—
Leon wasn’t tasteless nor was he boring. He was just grouchy, and you told yourself that quite often.
“So you do have some taste left?” you teased as you both sat in his black Porsche. He had turned on the car’s radio and played some tunes for you both as he drove to the restaurant. “And what made you think otherwise?” he spoke, his eyes trained on the road ahead of him.
“Well, you’ve been all work and no fun lately. Dare I say you’ve become dull, Mr. Kennedy,” you shot him a grin. You watched as he rolled his eyes, dampening the mood a little. “Proving my point…” you muttered, looking out your window. It didn’t go unnoticed by him though.
You heard him scoff quietly, causing you to revert your gaze to him, “Something wrong?” He shook his head, “Nope.” There was tone behind his words, which irked you. “No, I feel like there is something, Leon,” you eyed him, tired of his behavior already. “One of us has to work hard,” he spoke gruffly, causing your eyes to widen at his words.
“Excuse me?” you sat up. You glared at him, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It’s been a rough week. Just drop it,” he spoke firmly as he turned a right. “No, I won’t just ‘drop it.’ What the hell was that supposed to mean?” He stopped at a red light, taking the opportunity to finally glance at you. “My work isn’t supposed to be fun. You’d know that if you’ve ever actually worked hard. Entertaining the world isn’t as close to saving it,” he spoke almost coldly before pushing the car forward as the light turned green.
His words echoed your mind on repeat as you processed them. You let out a dry laugh, “And that implies what? That I don’t work hard and that my job is easy?” While it’s true that being a popstar isn’t as rigorous as stopping bio-terrorism, it doesn’t make it an easy job either. It was also a job you were very passionate about.
Leon shrugged his shoulders without a care, “Compared to what I do? Absolutely. Maybe even more.” He pulled up to the restaurant’s parking lot, “All you do is dance and sing on a stage anyway. Like that’s any hard.”
You maintained your composure, figuring it was just a rough week for him. He was usually quite supportive of your music career. You held your tongue back from snapping at him, taking a deep breath before speaking, “Shall we?” You glanced at the restaurant in front of you both. He nodded, hopping out the car to open your own door. “Another word about my ‘easy career’ in there, and it’s your head, Kennedy. Do not embarrass me,” you hissed at him as you got up.
As you both walked in to get yourselves seated, your mind was still set on his words. Comparing your jobs, he was more of a hard worker, but losing never felt good to you. A new determination filled your senses immediately. If you couldn’t prove him wrong, you would find some other form of payback.
-
You spent many weeks in the studio carrying and executing your plan. Your plan was simple: indirect public humiliation. The way you described the man in your song was nowhere close to Leon, but the implications were strong enough for him to know exactly who you were referring to if it were to air.
“This does not sound like Leon,” your producer squinted at you as she listened to the lyrics. “Nope, but it’s heavily implied,” you beamed. “Implied how?” she crossed her arms and with an unamused look on her face. You sighed before admitting your motive, “We had a fight. I’m getting him back for it.” She raised a brow, “Usually couple fights in this industry are about breakups, and they’re the ones that sell.”
“This will sell and make it big, if that’s your concern,” you reassured her. “I just need to get him back since I can’t really prove him wrong,” you grumbled. “Prove him wrong? What happened?” she chuckled and sat across from you. You groaned and leaned back in your seat, recalling what happened weeks ago.
“He said, compared to his job, that being a popstar is easier because all I really need to do is sing and dance on stage,” you grumbled to her. Your producer was quiet before she spoke, “Compared to him, he’s right—“
“Don’t you think I know that?” you groaned, cutting her off. She grew annoyed at your state, “So this is more of a ‘I’m petty, and I can’t let you win’ type of situation.” You scoffed and sat up, “I’m not petty! Just…incredibly defensive of my work and passion.”
Your producer gave you another unamused look, “You’re not even defending anything. You’re just telling him not to hurt your ego and embarrass you further.” Your eyes narrowed at her, causing you to huff and look away. She groans at your energy, “But to give you some credit, it’s not a easy job either. You’ve already wrote the song, and I say you carry on with whatever feud you have going on.”
She pat your shoulder before walking to the door. She stopped to look over her shoulder, “At the end of the day, you both love each other very much—I’m sure of it. This isn’t about proving things, it’s just banter. Playful banter, is it not?” With that, she exited the room, leaving you to your own devices.
She had a point. The argument never made you love him any less. You were just annoyed at him, feeling petty and defensive of your passions. You relaxed at the conclusion.
Nonetheless, you carried on with it.
—
Leon was currently driving home from work, tired as usual. His fingers moved to turn up the car’s radio, hoping it would make the drive somewhat easier. The current song came to an end and was replaced with a more ear-catching intro, causing his tiredness to subside slightly.
“I know I have good judgement, I know I have good taste.”
His eyes widened at the sound of your voice. The song was definitely new to him. He drove quietly, listening to your voice as it danced with the music. To him, you were an amazing singer—there was no denying it.
“Heartbreak is one thing, my ego’s another…”
He approached a red light. His brow raising at the lyrics, pondering the choice of words. He found himself cranking the volume louder in curiosity. Surely this wasn’t about him the other day.
“I beg you, don’t embarrass me, motherfucker…”
It was definitely about him.
He couldn’t help but laugh loudly. He had figured you were up to something, but he wasn’t expecting this. He felt the pull of the music catching his ears as your voice filled the Porsche.
He stepped back on the gas as the light turned green, listening to what you had to say to him on the radio. He would always count on you to call him out with style, innuendos to insults. The song continued to play as he drove home, a cheeky grin plastered onto his face.
“If you wanna go and be stupid, don’t do it in front of me…”
He pulled up to the driveway, noticing as you sat on the chairs at the porch. You were deep into work, probably composing a new one to call him out with. He didn’t bother turning the car off when he stepped out, his eyes set on you. You looked up and met his gaze, smiling and dropping what you were doing to hug him.
“If you don’t wanna cry to my music, don’t make me hate you prolifically…”
“I was just listening to you just now,” he mumbled, grinning as he stared at you. Your eyes widened, “Really?” A smirk broke from your lips, “Well, did you get the message?” He chuckled, leaning down to peck your lips gently.
“Please, please, please…”
“Your job isn’t easy,” he said and pecked your lips again. “And don’t embarrass you and hurt your ego,” he pecked you one last time. You kept your stupid smirk on, “Thank you. I knew you had it in you to figure what’s right.” He shook his head, “You are the pettiest person I’ve ever met.”
“This is nice…” you mumbled. Your face was currently sandwiched in his biceps as you both lay peacefully in your shared bed. You had personally asked him to do so, especially after your long day. The pressure of his biceps around your face was firm and almost comforting in a way.
“It’s just muscle, gorgeous,” he spoke, amused. He tightened the pressure just a bit, a soft squeeze enveloping your cheeks. You could’ve sworn you started drooling right then and there. “It’s your muscle,” you mumbled dazedly. Your gaze found his as you spoke, “You’re the biggest and meatiest man I’ve ever met.” He chuckled lightly, “You look like a chipmunk, especially if I do this…” He flexed once more, pushing his bicep to squeeze your face.
“I’ll be your chipmunk for as long as you like. This just has to stay on the table,” you spoke, voice slightly muffled as your body fully relaxed at this point.
He released you, emitting a whine from you as he did. He moved to kiss your forehead—the gentle kisses leaving a lingering trail before stopping at your ear. “Leon?” you mumbled, feeling his breath tickle the shell of your ear. “What are you doing?” you asked.
He nipped your ear lightly, causing you to slightly gasp at the suddenness. “I’ve got a better idea…” he spoke deeply, causing you to shiver.
You woke up with faint reminders around your neck the following morning.
—
LOOK at that. Who wouldn’t want to be sandwiched in between those big hunks of meat?
Imagine wearing your version of Leon’s mission clothing, especially the form fitting ones, during a job.
“Hello, gorgeous,” he practically drooled, watching you like you were his last meal. He walked a circle around you, taking every detail in—noting how the fabric of your shirt clung to you like second skin and how your pants accentuated the curve of your ass. Was this what you felt when he wore this for you during missions?
“Leon, we have work to do,” you groaned as you tried to snap him out of it. You were quite flattered that you were able to cause such a state. He waved you off, “Just appreciating the view.” You huffed before an idea passed through your mind.
You stepped closer, chests brushing against each other. You felt his breath stutter slightly at the close proximity. Your eyes met his, a faint tug between you two. You leaned close to whisper, “The sooner we get this over with, the faster you’ll see more of what’s underneath this, Mr. Kennedy.”
Leon’s focus was immediately set for the rest of the mission.
(Requested) Maybe Jake Sully's sister comes to the planet after he transferred consciousness because the RDA wants to revamp their avatar program and they think that since she's his sister that they will trust her as well but she ends up meeting So'lek after she transfers her consciousness to her Avatar body.
Part Two: The Right Coordinates
(Requested) In which you get it right this time, reuniting with your brother. What he didn’t expect was how turning on the human race was starting to become Sully tradition. Nonetheless, the war has come to get you all.
Your voice cut through the room, ceasing Sherry in her typing. Her eyes were wide as she looked at you, gulping down her nerves. “Hey…you,” she smiled, her lips faltering when she saw your deadpan expression.
“Where is he, Sherry?” you demanded, stepping closer. Leon said it was only an investigation, that it would only be a couple of hours. “It’s been almost two days, and he has not called or texted—damn it!” you walked in circles, overwhelmed and frustrated. Sherry frowned as she saw your distress and worry. This wasn’t the first time you’ve come to her looking for Leon.
“He’s fine,” she breathed out to you. “He’s the okay,” she stood up and hugged you. You practically shook on her arms, overwhelmed and worried for your husband.
You knew the risks of marrying a DSO agent, especially one as renowned as Leon S. Kennedy. There was always times where you’d know everything or know completely nothing. Nonetheless, you always feared the day he wouldn’t come home to you.
“What is he up to now, Sherry?” you whispered, stepping back to relax and give her space. She you watched as she stepped back to her chair in front of her computer, quietly watching over the screens. “Sherry?” you called to her, noticing her downcast eyes as she stared at her gloved hand.
“It’s T-Virus,” she admitted softly, sighing. “He’s gone to look for the cure for it,” she revealed. You stepped towards her, “A cure? Where is it?”
She looked at you with gentle eyes, “He’s gone back to Raccoon City.”
