this is my writing masterlist where you can find all of my writings and ramblings! (divider credit: @uzmacchiato )
ao3 link
resident evil memes | resident evil discussions
requests are open! (i will accept for most any resident evil character and am open to fic ideas, drabbles, one shots, headcanons, and imagines. i do canon x canon and canon x reader.)
coming soon:
willsker headcanons (request)
donna beneviento headcanons (request)
luis serra x female!reader date (request)
chp. 1 of no apocalypse rookie!leon x rookie!reader au (title tbd)
re0 rebecca chambers x entomologist reader (request)
first date at the carnival with no apocalypse rookie!leon (based on the imagine i posted)
headcanons w/ protagonists reacting to gn!reader’s sudden death (request)
leon kennedy x daughter of umbrella scientist!reader (request)
completed:
the man shaped by time series:
all my blood for the sweetness of her laughter;; pt.1 || pt 2 - immediately post re2 leon x female!reader fic
chreon:
you’re the one i want to go through time with;; - post requiem married leon kennedy x chris redfield one shot
headcanons:
chris redfield: pt 1. | pt. 2
jill valentine: pt 1. (requested)
imagines:
how would jill react to reader’s death scene (play/movie)? (request)
rookie!leon x completely neutral!reader first date to a carnival (no apocalypse au)
all my blood for the sweetness of her laughter;; ch. 2 (of 2)
immediately post re2 (2019)
leon s. kennedy x female reader
word count: 8,368
cw: 18+ MDNI, PTSD, trauma, survivor’s guilt, death mention, NSFW sexual content
tags: leon s kennedy, leon kennedy has PTSD, leon kennedy needs a hug, brief thigh riding kinda (f!), oral (f! receiving), brief rutting (m! ), protected sex, p in v, comfort, hurt/comfort, leon needs a damn hug, the smut kinda fades to black, the feelings are what’s important, this is more plot than porn, escapism, no y/n
summary: hand in hand, you and leon ran from the party until you couldn’t anymore. now that the two of you are alone, a clear bond has been forged between you both. the night is young and tinted with hope for the unknown future. leon is still in need of escape, but he is realizing that it wasn’t the party that made him feel like a person again—it’s you.
crossposted on ao3
divider credit: @uzmacchiato
photo credit: pinterest + resident evil 2 remake
chapter 1
the thumping of music and chatter of college kids faded away, replaced by panting breaths, the sound of his boots and your shoes slapping down on the pavement, and the comforting song of crickets. the distance you put between yourselves and the party wasn't clear, but there were no more judging glares and catty sneers surrounding you—just the wind through your hair and the warmth shared between your hands' embrace. eventually, the burn in your muscles caused you to tug back on leon's grip and come to an almost stumbling stop. he turned to see you bent over with your free hand resting on your thigh as you tried to catch your breath.
“i…think…we made….it.”
he cracked a smile at the words you forced out to the syncopated rhythm of your panting. his other hand—still holding his jacket—raised to his neck, feeling the prick of sweat clinging to the very ends of his hair. the last time he ran like this, he was running for his life. in some ways, this felt similar, but there was no sense of panic or fear propelling him forward. it wasn’t like he was fleeing mindlessly in hopes for some safe haven before gnashing teeth and thrashing claws caught up to him.
no, this time he was chasing freedom.
he’d just forgotten that not everyone needed to sprint for it.
“sorry about that,” the words fell in a sheepish laugh, not nearly as breathless as yours were. giving you the chance to catch yours, he released your hand and took the time to observe the new surroundings. the two of you were on an asphalt path cutting through fields and trees, dotted with the orange glow of sodium lamps spread down the curve and around the bend. somewhere nearby, the percolating flow of water cut through the symphony of nocturnal creatures.
“are we in a park?” he asked, squinting into the darkness to make out the silhouettes of benches and greenery. in some ways, the openness of the area versus the claustrophobic nightmare that was that party made him feel more relaxed—more secure. the only person he wanted to be close to at this moment was you, and he was starting to wish he hadn’t let go of your hand just yet.
in other ways, not being able to distinguish statues from possible people—or worse—kept him looking over his shoulders.
he knew that he would never be able to shake that readiness—that he would always anticipate something waiting in the dark. no matter how seemingly normal or secure, he learned from Raccoon City that no level of safety was ever guaranteed. even as his body fought to relax and calm, there was a tightness in his core preparing him to run or fight if he needed to.
throwing a punch at your ex was apparently only a temporary relief.
”yeah,” you finally straightened yourself up, looking around the area now that you had a chance to, “this is Melrose Park—it’s right by the college.”
“it seems pretty…big.”
there was hesitation in his observation—a wariness that he knew you wouldn’t understand the gravity of. if you did pick up on it, you at least didn’t show it—which he appreciated more than you would ever know. you took his hand again and started leading him into the darkness. coming to the edge of the path, he stopped and didn’t budge, looking at you with wider eyes. ever present fear lingered over his shoulders, digging claws deep into the sinew to pull them straight and squared. his suddenly alert stare slid over the area, trying to distinguish park staples from threats in shadowed disguises.
the nightmares he saw, the lives lost that he carried wrapped in his guilt—it was all too heavy for a boy that only wanted to help people.
he wanted to save people from going through life like he had, having lost his parents at a very young age, but instead he stumbled into something so much worse and lost so much more than he could have ever imagined.
he didn’t save a damn thing.
the last thing he wanted to do was put you in danger too…
you didn’t understand that burden or what it entailed, but you could see it. you could feel the way his grip tightened on yours as if to stop you from going out any further. turning back to face him, your expression softened in understanding not of the why but of the what—the weight of whatever had him stuck to the spot feeling heavy even in your hand just from holding his. his fingers relaxed their hold more so out of realization and embarrassment at you noticing his fear than anything else.
still, you smiled at him, gently tugging for him to follow along.
this time, he did, staying close to your side as you both ventured into the darkness. he couldn’t help the way his eyes darted back and forth, trying to force them to adjust quicker. the alcohol in his system had started wearing off, leaving him vulnerable once again to the thoughts that had been bogged down and practically blocked out. every shape in the dark untouched by moonlight or the glow of the lamps left too many gaps for his mind to fill in…
ambiguous shapes shifted and formed hellish amalgamations. they were hungry, devoid of anything but the need to tear and gnash and rip and feed —
no, not now,he thought, steadying each breath and pinching at his side to force himself back into the moment—force the horrors back to blobs of ink, there’s nothing there. there’s nothing wrong.
swallowing hard and wishing the bottle of whiskey hadn't been so prematurely abandoned, he focused himself instead on counting the number of steps you both had taken—noting how many he would need to get back to the lights. it had become a routine of his while staying at the facility with sherry, as if counting could keep him even just a step ahead of the starved creatures still shambling behind him.
always present. always lingering.
physically or not.
one, two, three…
grass and leaves crunched beneath every foot fall, and each one left leon questioning whether they were yours or from something looming behind.
…four, five, six…
car engines in the distance distorted through the trees, becoming echoes of the hellish, agonized screeches that followed him through dark hallways.
…seven, eight…
how could he be sure they weren't here, lying in wait? if it could happen in Raccoon City, surely it could happen anywhere…
…nine…
the sound of his heartbeat drowned out the numbers in his head, thumping loudly enough that he could hear each pointed punch against his eardrums. as if the ringing from close quarters gunfire wasn't enough, his own dread threatened to deafen him before the tinnitus did.
shit, how many steps was that?
the path was not far behind as the pair of you made it to the shadows that had become much clearer once illuminated by the dim moonlight. benches surrounded a small playground set in mulch. what he could barely distinguish between threat and the ordinary now stood in front of him almost mockingly. the set of swings, the seesaw, the monkey bars, and the three little horses on springs no longer resembled twisted, mutant monstrosities but instead stood as monuments of humiliation dedicated to the terrors he simply could not escape. feeling the soft skin of your hand in his own calloused one was his only reminder that he was out of RPD, out of Raccoon City, and out here with you to be anything other than the mess of a man that he was right now.
embarrassment and frustration stung at his eyes and prickled his face with enough red that you were able to catch it under the pale moon. he swallowed hard, trying to force down the bitter pill that kept creeping up his throat with the acrid sting of bile and doubly sharp burn of regurgitated alcohol. you didn’t stop long enough to let him linger in it, instead bringing him over to the swingset and guiding him to sit beside you. your legs dangled as the swing lazily rocked back and forth from your presence. still, you held his hand, and he felt like it was the lifeline keeping him from sinking too far into his mind.
he would much rather be embarrassed than stuck fighting demons long since incinerated.
the night was still young—still desperate for him to take control and enjoy himself before it was too late. panic and fear and rage threatened to drown him every day, and, with his own sanity and sherry’s well-being on the line, he couldn’t afford to sink.
and he wouldn’t drag you down with him.
”do you come here often?”
his question croaked through the lump in his throat and filled the empty space between you, practically mimicking the creaking chains of the swings. leon struggled to keep his eyes focused on the dark in front of him, but he felt too untethered to look at you yet. you had already glimpsed too many pieces of the broken boy that he was trying to leave behind, and he was afraid that, if you met his eyes now, you would see everything that haunted him which would, in turn, haunt you too.
“was that a pick-up line?” your simple jest and the quiet, shared laughter between you two was just enough to briefly pull him out of his head. it was the sheet tossed over the elephant in the room—or in the park, rather. ”i do—a lot—my apartment isn’t far, and it’s a good place to think.”
”it lets the mind wander—that’s for sure.” his words were drier than he had intended, but he hoped they would come off as more sarcastic than cynical as they trailed off beneath his breath. his legs sluggishly kicked against the weight they felt to pick up the movement of his swing. he couldn’t be still—needing to release some of the anxious tension that had crept back in.
the elephant’s trunk was starting to peek out from under the sheet.
snap out of it, leon.
“y’know,” reality slammed back in place and leon glanced at you as you spoke, noticing how you were pumping your legs to get your swing higher and subconsciously pacing his to match yours, “that was pretty fucking cool—what you did back there.”
”wha-ha-hat?” the question was dotted with both his genuine surprise and laughter, shyly averting his gaze but unable to keep it away from you for too long, “i just did what anyone else would do.”
”but they wouldn’t do that—“
”i mean, they—yeah—they definitely would have said something cooler than ’looks like it’s past your bedtime’ but—“
”oh—come on—that was good!”
”i think you’re biased.”
”i am not!”
“you come on,” he laughed, having almost forgotten whatever the sheet had been thrown over in the first place, “even saying hasta la vista, baby would have been cooler than that.”
your laughter gave him pause. his heart rate had steadied now, mind no longer focused on what wasn’t there and instead on what had been right in front of him the whole time: you.
”i am not biased, and your arnold impression needs some work.”
he found himself laughing again, shaking his head almost in disbelief at both the calm he was starting to feel and the notion that you would dare to question his terminator impression—he was convinced that it wasn’t half bad.
“hey—agree to disagree on the arnold thing—you still thought i was cool. you’re definitely biased.”
“ha—how?”
”becaaauuse—“ his teeth caught his lower lip, as if trying to hide the boyish smirk that was daring to form in spite of the blush darkening his cheeks, “—it seemed like you were really enjoying yourself before we got interrupted.”
he wasn’t sure where that confidence came from, but he much preferred it over the fear that almost kept him from coming this far. if he could hide in this persona and let you see a leon that was so far removed from the Raccoon City surivor, maybe he could start to believe that's just who he was.
the mask would become the man.
the way your eyes widened was just as amusing as it was empowering, and he couldn’t help but let that smirk fully form when you turned your face away to hide your flustered grin.
”oh my god—shut up.”
shared laughter fell into comfortable silence, allowing you a moment to regain your composure and leon the time to bask in his ‘gotcha’ moment. being this leon didn't seem too bad…
it was better than being afraid of a playground.
“i mean it—thank you.” your voice broke the peaceful quiet, and he turned his head back to meet your eyes again, “you turned a really shitty night into something really fun.”
he resisted the urge to brush off your thanks again—already feeling the self-deprecating humor at the tip of his tongue. instead, leon watched as your swings moved in tandem with one another and allowed himself a moment of true vulnerability—as truthful as he could be given his circumstances, “i could say the same to you, y’know… i was about to leave before i saw you.”
”really?”
he hummed and nodded solemnly, “yeah—it turns out señor fiesta doesn’t like parties all that much.”
god, your laugh made his head spin. it reminded him of the peaceful things he had taken for granted: windchimes on a breezy summer day, the first bird songs of spring, and whatever other cheesily romantic metaphor he could think of without rolling his eyes at himself. it was silly, but it was true. being with you tonight was the breath of fresh air his ever collapsing lungs needed to escape the weight laid upon his chest.
”but he'd stay for a crying girl??” you sighed the question incredulously, and, even though you had turned to look away from him, he could tell you were starting to feel down on yourself again. having the rug ripped out from under your feet by someone you trusted…
someone that you thought may have cared about you.
or someone who did but couldn’t let themself.
take care of yourself, leon.
he understood that more than anyone.
a memory came to mind, something claire had told him when they had finally found a motel and gotten sherry down to sleep. his bullet wound had gotten infected—thankfully, the normal kind of infection—and a fever had quickly set in. claire had been there to help nurse him, listen to him as he broke down and cried—in spite of her own pain and need for comfort—revealing the truth about ada and his stupid choice to trust her. to care about her.
and to still believe that she really did care about him too.
despite his feverish delirium, he could still remember what claire had said to him in some attempt to make his pathetic self feel better, and his lips mirrored them back to you as they came to mind:
"you’re too pretty to cry over that asshole."
you turned back to him and your eyes locked together for a moment in silence. time slowed, the swingset becoming the pendulum on the grandfather clock. each creak of the chains became the tick of the hands as they spun around the numbers. you wanted to deny him—call him a liar—he could see that clearly on your face, but he knew you wouldn’t.
you couldn’t.
because you knew he meant it.
"okay, romeo.” you were trying to deflect him, to ignore it, but the way he was looking at you was sending the butterflies in your stomach into a frenzy. “what’s next? you gonna compare me to the sun?”
“my eyes don’t hurt when i look at you.” it was cheesy, but, at this point, he knew it was working—and he didn’t want to tell you that he already had been comparing you to the sun. your smile grew, almost blinding him in the dark from how radiant it was.
the comparison really wasn’t all that far off.
and then you let go of his hand and jumped, flying off your swing and landing in the grass with a grunt before kicking off and running towards nothing in particular. luckily for your ankles, leon wasn’t the only one that had sobered up.
”hey—!” he jumped from his swing and took off after you with a laugh, “wait!”
this time, he had no fear of venturing into the dark after you. there were no memories chasing him—at least none that were fast enough— or popping out of the shadows and waiting to catch him off guard. there was only you and your laughter echoing through the trees.
you and the night.
his police academy training hadn’t gone entirely in vain as he was able to catch up to you easily, practically launching himself to catch you and pull you down to the ground. you squealed at the impact, your bodies hitting the slightly damp grass and rolling down the hill until you had made it about halfway to the bottom. his arms held you tightly, shielding you from any potential bumps and bruises, and barely loosened their hold on you once you came to a stop.
he looked down at you, taking his time to admire the beaming grin on your face as you lay beneath him.
that part hadn’t quite caught up with him yet, but when it did he could barely find his words. too many of them came stumbling out of his mouth at once in a stuttered mess of ‘sorrys’ and ‘are you okays’ that he had to stop himself and take a breath in. he was pretty sure the only thing keeping him from completely disintegrating on the spot was the way you giggled beneath him.
he must have left his confidence on the swings.
”you’re sweet.”
his cheeks burned, but this time he brought himself to look at you again. in some ways, you were the opposite of him—at least the leon that he was now. your eyes were bright and mirrored the stars above the two of you. he could even see himself reflected in your gaze, almost shocked at how different he looked now versus the image he had caught in the liquor store window just hours earlier. though it was harder to make out the details, what he could see seemed much more familiar to him.
this was the leon that was determined to start his first day on the force. this was the leon that said ‘screw their letters, they need me. they need help.’ this was the leon he wished would have stayed home.
but then he wouldn’t have met claire, or sherry…
…or you.
leaning down, he closed the gap between you to find your lips again. at the party he had kissed you hungrily, almost selfishly, just needing to consume and to be consumed. but now, under the stars surrounded by chirping crickets and croaking frogs, he kissed you tenderly. sweetly.
you almost whined as he pulled back but stopped when you saw the way he was looking at you.
”i think you’re pretty sweet too.”
your hands shot up to cover your face as you laughed and bucked him off of you. he hit the grass beside you with an oof and laid back with his hands behind his head.
”you’re so corny..”
”hey, it’s worked so far.”
that boyish charm broke through, serving as the reminder to both of you that leon was still just a young man. that thought brought you closer to him, shifting into his side and laying your head on his arm to look up at the stars. warmth enveloped you as he plopped his jacket over your torso like a blanket.
“so, is señor fiesta ever going to tell me his real name? you know—the man behind the party hat?”
it wasn’t only your laugh that enthralled him with you, but it was the way you made him laugh. fundamentally, he would never be the same as he was before Raccoon City, but the little time he had spent with you damn well made it feel that way. a sense of normalcy that seemed so far out of reach for these past few weeks was now right there with him, curled into his side, keeping him warm, and reminding him that there was still genuine humor to be found in the world and not just the type he could use as a coping mechanism.
he was still awkward, he knew that, but you never made him feel bad for it. the tension rising between you was anything but.
”leon,” his head turned to look down at you as his name fell in a slow breath from his lips, “leon kennedy.”
it felt strange to say—foreign on his tongue. there was a sense of…displacement, as if he couldn’t call himself that anymore. in his mind, leon s. kennedy was just another name on the list of casualties from Raccoon City, but who else could he be? he still felt the weight of that badge on his chest, and in its brass surface that name was etched.
it felt as if he had stolen it…
but the way it sounded when you repeated it back to him, he wouldn’t mind just borrowing it for a while.
you whispered your name back to him in return as you rolled in towards his side and nuzzled your cheek into his chest. afraid that you would disappear if he didn’t, his deceptively strong arms pulled you closer and held you tight as your name echoed in his mind. it burned into the meat of his brain as it bounced around his skull so that he would never forget it or this night with you.
everything that had haunted him up to this point had finally been quelled into almost silence because of you. there was no sense of permanence—he wasn’t foolish enough to think that a night of roleplaying the average 21 year old would absolve him of the trauma and anger that resided in him—but it was a temporary relief to a pain he never thought would subside.
he would forever be grateful for it.
for a while, the synced sound of your breathing with his own was the only conversation shared between you two. basking in each other’s companies, leon realized that he could still enjoy the silence. his mind wasn’t roaming, his ears weren't straining against the dull ring to listen out for the wet, rattling breathing of the undead or heavy footfalls of stalking tyrants, and his eyes focused on the stars rather than the harrowing flashes of Raccoon City’s horrors. he felt an overwhelming sense of…
peace?
like the rain, or this night, he knew this sense of peace wouldn't last, but he would bask in its placid serenity for as long he could—even if that meant staying out here with you until the sun kissed the moon good morning across the horizon.
***
the mid october night’s chill was starting to settle in the longer the two of you were laid upon the park’s grassy hills. each breath materialized in puffs of steam from your lips was the only indication that the two of you hadn’t melded into one form yet. both of you were trying to syphon enough heat from one another to avoid being the one to end this moment.
“look—" your voice cut through, a hand daring to disturb the collected warmth from beneath his jacket so you could point at the sky.
a long, arching streak of silver was cutting across the deep, midnight blue and almost overshadowing the smattering of glowing stars around it. leon’s breath caught in his throat—one, because of the sudden cold, and two because of the sheer beauty of what he could see above him.
“a shooting star?”
honestly, he had never seen one in real life before—figuring that they were just things kids learned about from movies. the slow streak of the tail raised the question of whether it was a star or a comet, but the science behind it didn’t really matter to him right now. what did, however, was the look of wonder he caught on your face when he dared to look away from the sky to see you.
“leon—make a wish!”
“a wish?”
”yeah—when you see a shooting star you make a wish on it,” the incredulous tone you took with him brought a huff of a laugh through his nose.
“when you wish upon a star..” the song—though it barely sounded like one coming from his lips—trailed off as he watched you close your eyes. twin wrinkles formed between your brows in sheer concentration. in truth, it was childish and felt almost…too juvenile for him at this point in his life, but what harm could it do?
there were a lot of things he wished for, but there was only one that stuck out to him in this moment. the one chance he would take to be selfish because what consequence would there be for something so innocent?
a question he knew the answer to but wouldn't think too hard about for his own sake.
”did you wish?”
opening his eyes, he was surprised to see that his view of the night sky had been entirely eclipsed by your head. his mind had been so focused, so momentarily blinded by the belief that maybe his wish could come true, that he hadn't even realized you moved. staring up at you, his hand came to brush down the side of your jaw.
his fingertips were cold and left a line of goosebumps in their wake as they slid down the expanse of your neck and towards the back to cradle it in his palm. the star had passed, taking your wishes with it, but neither of you had lost the look of wonder in your eyes.
it was simply mirrored back to each other.
you moved closer—just barely—but it was his grasp that pulled you down to meet his lips again, allowing his kiss to serve as his answer. he kept you locked there, unable to stand the thought of being interrupted one more time. any alarm in his mind—warranted or otherwise—was silenced and replaced only by a fuzzy feeling. it was similar to the floating sensation he had from the alcohol, but this time it was you he was drunk on.
the chill in the air had long since been forgotten.
***
it wasn't long before he had rolled on top of you, pinning you down beneath him in the grass. his body settled comfortably between your legs—one hand still cradling your head and showing his priority for your comfort, and the other twining your fingers together as if to keep you from disappearing. there was a brief instance where you thought maybe this wasn't a good idea. your relationship—if you could call it that—had just ended, and you barely knew this guy.
every argument your logical self made was refuted by a moment from the night. something he said, the softness in his eyes despite rings of exhaustion and flashes of fear obviously plaguing him, the fact that his search for a good time had been put on the back burner just to make sure you—a perfect stranger—were okay.
the only thing that came to mind that was enough for you to finally push gently up on his chest and break your kiss—having to ignore the strangled whine of his protest—was the thought that, if you were going to do this, you wanted to do it right.
you hadn't spoken about it, but deep down you knew that leon wasn't going to be here tomorrow—or at least with the morning sun. there was an odd feeling in your chest at the thought, but you had already accepted it. tonight had been a night for him to experience normalcy—so he said—and, in some ways, it was for you too.
you didn't want to spend it in the park out in the cold where anyone could find you.
the question that kiss swollen lips didn't dare to speak reflected in his eyes, followed by a sense of anxiety that seemed to linger behind him the entire night. this time, however, its presence didn't make him feel so far off. you didn't know what had caused it so many times before, but you understood that he was questioning himself and whether he had done something wrong right now.
your smile was reassurance enough, just as it had been throughout your short time together. his cheek was soft in your palm, heated from the flush burning beneath the supple skin.
"come home with me?"
his crooked smile, the rare one that reached his tired eyes and crinkled them at their corners, was a relief to see. without saying a word, he simply nodded and helped you up off the ground in the same motion that he lifted himself up with. the fabric of his jacket brushed your cheek as it draped over your shoulders like a cape.
"leon—won't you be cold?"
"won't you?" the question gave you pause, almost taken aback by his response, though your laughter wasn't far behind. your head shook in knowing acceptance—of course he would say that. all he had done tonight was prove that your well being had become his priority in some way, shape, or form.
you slid your arms in the sleeves as you playfully rolled your eyes, still not able to hide the flustered feeling he left you with whenever he did something so inherently noble. that was, in some ways, the romantic part of a self-sacrifcing person: everything they gave up for others was heroic, no matter how big or small.
you could only hope he wouldn't give away every part of himself in the future.
that way, if it was meant to be, your paths could cross again.
"besides," his voice cut through your thoughts as the two of you walked, sliding his hand back into yours with ease. it seemed the worry that plagued him had faded once again—that, or he was hiding it better than before, "you'll warm me up."
"i'm going to hit you—"
his laugh, something that you couldn't help but smile in awe at, echoed through the night as you led him away from the park and back towards the amber lit path that would bring you both home.
***
there was barely a moment between the lock clicking and the door opening before leon was all over you again. his kisses were still sweet but longing, wanting to both devour and savour you all at once. the door shut, and the two of you stumbled forward towards the bedroom—kicking off your shoes somewhere along the way.
the apartment was quaint, small but filled with enough to make it feel homey. it seemed just right for a college junior. leon gave it a preliminary glance as he settled you on the bed, but only enough to make sure the two of you were truly alone. his attention was solely and entirely on you.
this time, there was nothing to hold either of you back. you pressed down into the pillowy comforter on your bed—a midnight blue with golden stars and human faced moons and suns—and leon's weight pressed down beside you. he was laying with half of himself on the bed and the other overtop of you—legs tangled as his hand took the time to roam up and down the curve of your waist. already, you felt the same press of his arousal against your leg, but he wasn't desperately seeking out friction.
no, his focus was you.
his tongue begged entrance between your lips that parted easily. at the party, it had taken a minute for leon to find the right rhythm, but this time he found it almost immediately—quickly learning and adapting to the way you moved. little moans vibrated between your lips, and you wondered if he had been so vocal the first time and was just drowned out by the music, or if he finally wasn't holding himself back.
the longer your tongues moved in tandem, the lower his touch went. tracing down to your hip, strong fingers gripped to it and pulled you closer to him so that his thigh could slide fully between your legs. while he had yet to seek out friction, you <i>needed</i> it. the comfortable pace of your kisses paired with the roll of your hips against his thigh. you knew it could seem desperate or lewd, but, ever since you danced with him, you had been battling that tension in your lower stomach the whole night.
"leon~"
his own moan followed as yours slid his name from between your lips. as if the heat in the room spiked, the fervor of his kiss increased. with feverish need, leon rolled himself on top of you fully and used the thigh that had grown that pressure you were feeling to part your legs and settle himself between them. your lungs were tight, fighting the need to breathe as he all but overcame your mouth. you weren't sure what it was that had propelled him—the sound of his name or the need behind it—but you weren't going to stop him. heated lips trailed from yours down to your neck, almost burning the skin. each one was followed by a gentle nip of the flesh, clearly wanting to find out what would make you do that again. the cool air in the room barely registered against the fire of his skin until you felt its absence. your eyes finally opened, seeking him out and seeing that he had removed his shirt.
he had a strong, athletic build, and, even though you could barely make it out from the orange glow of the streetlight outside of your window, you could just make out a splattering scar on his left shoulder. not only that but…
leon had gone through a metamorphosis.
when you met him earlier in the night, he was distant and withdrawn—haunted by something you couldn't see but knew was lingering so close behind. in spite of that, there was still this instictual need in his eyes to make sure that you were okay, to make you feel better. as the night went on, something inside of him shifted. there was a light starting to peek through the weary exhaustion that only got brighter when the two of you danced together. he was enjoying himself. he wasn't far away, he was there with you in the moment and having fun.
at the park, you had seen glimpses of that distance return and the embarrassment that came with you catching it. whatever it was that he had experienced was enough to keep him from the normalcy he was so desperate to chase. you wanted nothing more than to comfort him the way he had you, even though you knew that whatever pain he held was much greater than some shitty college boyfriend cheating on you. still, he felt your efforts and looked at you like you were some sort of angel—his saving grace.
and now, here he was, looking down at you with hungry eyes—blue that had been lustfully eclipsed by blown out pupils—and you wondered what part of him you were seeing now. was this still the same leon trying to comfort you despite his own demons, or was this a part of him you had yet to see? the need for an answer was tossed to the wayside the second you heard him say your name.
"can i undress you?"
somewhere, someway, that seemed like answer enough, and you nodded to him. his eyes reflected starvation—for affection, for partnership, for touch—but his hands were slow and gentle. there was a care in the way he removed your clothes, seeking out your eyes with every layer he removed as if to ask: is this okay?
eventually, you were completely revealed beneath him. any other time you had done this, being fully nude felt too vulnerable—like you were exposed for scrutiny. it made you timid and instinctually want to cover yourself with your hands, but you didn't…because the way he was looking at you was unlike anything you had ever seen before. where your ex had just given you a once over and maybe some muttered 'you're hot,' leon was taking his time—as if memorizing every curve and dip of your body, making a map of every mole or stretch mark. every part of you was being etched into his mind, and, just as he had left you unable to every other time tonight, you couldn't deny him.
his admiration—his awe—it was all apparent, written on his face a thousand times over.
"holy shit…"
his hand reached out to delicately trace his fingertips over your collarbone, between your breasts, down your sternum and over your stomach until he stopped just above the apex of your thighs. again, that need to both savour and devour you was evident in his admiring expression.
"you are beautiful.."
"so are you." you were surprised by how soft your voice was, but he had all but stunned you into silence at how appreciative he was of you—all of you. his stare slowly pulled away from your body to look at you, and he gave enough of a smile to let you know he had heard you—even though you knew he didn't agree.
there was no time to assure him as he hooked his arms beneath your hips and pulled you further up the bed. any cry of shock or protest for how he moved on was shuttered and muffled between your lips as he kissed you once more. his warmth had returned if only for a moment as he continued his trail of kisses and bites down the now exposed form of your body. the two of you both knew that he would be gone in the morning, but it was clear he did not plan to leave you without the memory that he was here—that you were together.
every mapped curve or sharp angle was peppered with his affection until he could fully settle himself between your legs, resting them over his shoulders. you were shocked at first, about to tell him something along the lines of 'are you sure?' or 'you don't have to do that,' but you could tell by the look in his eyes that he wouldn't hear any of that.
there was no teasing bite to your thigh or any more of those tender kisses—he couldn't wait any longer. there was only the feeling of his fingers parting you so that he could press his tongue firmly against your clit. first you gasped, shocked by how quickly the heat of his breath was replaced by the pressure of his tongue.
and then you moaned, needing to thread your fingers into the still silky locks of blonde hair between your legs—needing to hold onto something before you lost yourself entirely in the feeling of him.
***
you tasted divine.
he couldn't contain himself, unable to stop every wanton sound that left his lips and vibrated against you. the way you rocked your hips against his face, matching the rhythm and guiding him to what felt the best with not only your motions but the way you moaned out his name…it was enough to wipe his mind clean.
nothing could haunt him here.
no memory or question of when the last time he had even been close to someone like this was (the answer being just before he joined the academy).
no flash of everyone he failed that night.
there was only you. he could finally lose himself—and what better place than between your thighs.
***
his jaw was aching— fingers, face, and tongue soaked in finish after finish. he lost count of the times he pushed you over the edge; however, he had kept track of exactly how many times you called out his name. his jeans were strained, leaving him aching and needing to rut himself against the mattress for any sort of relief of the pain. whether or not his arousal saw the light of day didn't matter to him—he just wanted to make you feel good and lose himself in the fact that he could finally do something right.
but the way you called his name this time, desperate and mewling, he knew that you wanted more than this. leon lifted his head and his lust blown gaze softened in the realization that even his pursuit for your pleasure had become inherently selfish. overstimulated tears rolled down your cheeks, the same hands that had been in his hair now reaching for him to come up.
a breath of air helped him come to his senses.
moving up your body, he went to apologize, but the words were lost between kisses and soft declarations of desire.
"please, leon, i don't want to be the only one—"
and how hard that was for him to accept, still feeling that involving himself any further would be too selfish—he was too undeserving—but he would do it knowing that you wanted him too.
"do you have protection?"
you nodded, pointing to your nightstand, "in the top drawer."
reaching where you directed him, leon opened it and removed one of the condoms from the box and stuck it between his teeth while he worked to undo his fly. he had planned on just undoing his pants and leaving them to hang off of his hips, but you sat up and pushed them down slowly.
"i want to see you, leon."
the reminder that this night lacked permanence—his one chance to be normal before his autonomy was forfeit—hung heavily in the air between you two. he understood fully that this night was just as important for you as it was to him. taking the condom from between his teeth and one of your hands in his, he nodded and leaned down to press a kiss gently to your forehead.
while his future was uncertain, he could at least be sure there would be no real chance for shared tenderness like this.
he couldn't waste it.
leon shifted and helped you to pull down his pants and boxers, revealing the full expanse of not only his body, but his arousal. to be so exposed and under the scrutiny of your gaze was nerve wracking. he had never been very confident or self conscious about his body, having always felt neutral more than anything—it was just his body, nothing more and nothing less. his time in the academy had really helped shape his muscles and form a new outlook on his self image, giving him more of an appreciation for what his body could do versus how it looked.
but, now, feelings of unease and danger were creeping in, just brushing his shoulders with their greedy claws—as if they were driven solely by the desire to drive him insane and push him to self-sabotage. in some ways, it felt like you would see too much—that his physical scars would be the pathway to lead you to the multitude of mental and emotional scars that Racoon City had left behind.
"are you okay, leon?"
your question pulled him out of his racing thoughts and back to the moment he had just told himself he needed to enjoy before it passed him by. with a nervous laugh, he looked down before he nodded.
"yeah—it's just—it's just been a while, y'know?"
your hand found his cheek and pulled his gaze back to yours, leaning in to kiss him softly.
"we can go slow—no need to rush."
he couldn't help as his arms wrapped around you and held you tight against him, one hand cradling your head as the other snaked around your waist—careful to keep the condom wrapper from scratching your skin.
deep breaths, leon, just keep breathing.
he wasn't sure how long he held you like that, your arms circled around him in a comforting embrace. a threat of tears stung his eyes, forgetting how nice it felt to be held by someone. he blinked them away, not wanting to soil the mood anymore than he had already, and pulled back to look at you.
there was no need for words as he laid you down on the bed, coming to rest himself between your legs again. the foil wrapper was ripped away, and he pinched the end of the condom as he slowly rolled it down over his cock. the slick evidence of his conquest between your thighs was more than enough to lubricate the rubber as he lined himself up with your entrance. he could feel the way you welcomed him, muscles clenching and unclenching to try and pull him in farther—wanting to keep the closeness. lowering himself so that you could be skin to skin, leon pushed his hips forward. he closed his eyes tight and gently blew air from between his lips as he felt himself sink deeper into you until he was fully nestled inside—trying not to lose himself immediately upon entrance. when he opened his eyes again, he saw a smile that melted away the rest of his worries.
"fuck—"
leon wouldn't know it now, but the feeling of you, in the way you've phsyically and emotionally connected tonight, would save him many times in the future.
and as he slowly rolled his hips in tandem with yours, the wish he made on the star from the park echoed in his head. here, with you like this, it felt like maybe it might come true.
***
the dawn was just starting to break over the horizon, deep purple and midnight blues hazily fading and making way for orange and gold. leon had yet to sleep, only able to peacefully rest his eyes with the feeling of your cheek pressed against his chest and your hand resting at his shoulder. still, he felt more rested than he had in weeks. there was nothing haunting him as he laid beside you—no flashing memories to mock him. instead, he just replayed the night he had with you.
there were other people who would have nights like this, and there were plenty of people in Raccoon City who would never be so lucky—everything having been stripped from them by Umbrella's greed. the rage he felt had subsided, now honed with a sense of justice his bitterness had displaced from him. despite his shortcomings as a cop and his forced recruitment to protect sherry, leon had still been allowed one last taste of freedom.
he wanted to preserve that freedom. for everyone—for claire, for sherry, for you. even if it meant giving every part of himself away to do it, it was worth it to protect the right to normalcy. to make sure claire and sherry would never have to experience that night again.
and to make sure you would never come close to it.
with a kiss to your forehead, leon quietly slid himself out from beside you and quickly put the blanket back down so as to preserve whatever would be left of the warmth you shared between each other. he dressed swiftly and quietly, deciding he would leave his jacket for you as a memento—it looked better on you anyway.
stopping in the doorway, he turned over his shoulder to look at your sleeping form in the bed, watching as you shifted and rolled towards his absence in a subconscious search for him. it warmed his heart, adding to the overall sense of tranquility he felt. it was strange, so foreign to him after weeks of turmoil and stress and anger, but it felt right—like he finally had clarity for the first time since everything went to shit.
like the burden of his guilt was easier to carry.
like maybe marvin, elliot, everyone who meant to welcome him on his first day, ada…maybe they didn't die in vain.
feeling like he didn't want to leave without some sort of goodbye, leon took a quick glance around your apartment to find a notepad on the fridge and a pen beside it—clearly for groceries. quickly, he jotted down a message before he gave you one last look and walked out the door.
i promise i won't forget you—don't forget me either, k? -señor fiesta.
p.s. the next time i see you, you're gonna wish you never doubted my arnold impression.
GAH thank you all so much for all of the love i received on the first part of this. it really helped me in pushing through and finishing the second part. as for this series, this is the last part of rookie!leon’s chapter, but there will be more following the course of leon’s life. also, it’s definitely not even close to the last rookie leon thing i will be writing!!! i want to thank everyone again!!
just a reminder that requests are open, and you can find my masterlist pinned to the top of my page for more things that i’ve written, my to do list, and some discussion/theory posts as well as memes. as always, this will be cross posted on my ao3!
i’m sure claire does too, but it’s crazy to me how leon just casually one hands the rocket launcher while he’s walking around
also i put claire in her little commando claire outfit and she looks so good with the green bandana. that outfit on her and leon’s og rpd uniform just hit different
characters in movies love to wake up from surgery and immediately start ripping off all their medical equipment like theyre a sexy werewolf breaking their chains. brother you dont know if that tube is the only thing keeping you alive right now. calm down.
this is my writing masterlist where you can find all of my writings and ramblings! (divider credit: @uzmacchiato )
ao3 link
resident evil memes | resident evil discussions
requests are open! (i will accept for most any resident evil character and am open to fic ideas, drabbles, one shots, headcanons, and imagines. i do canon x canon and canon x reader.)
coming soon:
willsker headcanons (request)
donna beneviento headcanons (request)
luis serra x female!reader date (request)
chp. 1 of no apocalypse rookie!leon x rookie!reader au (title tbd)
re0 rebecca chambers x entomologist reader (request)
first date at the carnival with no apocalypse rookie!leon (based on the imagine i posted)
headcanons w/ protagonists reacting to gn!reader’s sudden death (request)
leon kennedy x daughter of umbrella scientist!reader (request)
completed:
the man shaped by time series:
all my blood for the sweetness of her laughter;; pt.1 || pt 2 - immediately post re2 leon x female!reader fic
chreon:
you’re the one i want to go through time with;; - post requiem married leon kennedy x chris redfield one shot
headcanons:
chris redfield: pt 1. | pt. 2
jill valentine: pt 1. (requested)
imagines:
how would jill react to reader’s death scene (play/movie)? (request)
rookie!leon x completely neutral!reader first date to a carnival (no apocalypse au)
