Read that Leon had a sketchbook and was the one who designed his gun Matilda. SO I latched onto that idea like a chubby kid at a cake factory and had to draw a doodle of Leon drawing!
For me personally, I think he would be pretty good at it. Guns are a BITCH to draw, so him being able to design one tells me he's gotta at least have some skill. I also bet he doesn't think he's talented (even though he is) and is shy about showing his drawings, so he usually only draws when he's alone in his room.
((Luis finds out about this and finds Leon shyness about it both adorable and a little sad. He wants Leon to feel comfortable about his hobby so he'll buy Leon sketchbooks and pencils, sometimes leaving them in his room for him to find.))
((After that, a lot of Luis and Leon's notes to each other have small doodles on them, and one of Luis's desks drawers is CRAMMED with these notes. He never throws them out and keeps every single one.))
((Funny enough, Rucio likes to watch Leon draw. The little bug finds the whole process fascinating. Way later on in the AU, Rucio asks Leon if he can control their hand to try and draw, and Leon agrees, trusting Rucio completely at this point. It's also the first time EVER Rucio has taken control, and even then, hes only using Leon's arm and hand. Rucio manages to draw a cat, it's absolutely terrible, but the Rucio has a ton of fun and Leon can't help but feel amused and endeared by the by the bug's enthusiasm.))
plss more jock!leon and nerd!reader, maybe they study together?? or whatever?? get high?? who knows
previously
not something you want,
but something you need
male!reader, University!au, nerd!reader, jock!leon, cheating/tw, reader and zeno are toxic, continuation of twink!reader, no smut but mentions of an erection lol
You’ve been avoiding Leon.
Well, not exactly avoiding him, but definitely going out of your way not to see him again.
You’ve started taking longer routes to lectures, bailing on hangouts whenever Zeno mentions the rest of the team showing up, even staying home during shared discussion hours just to avoid the possibility of running into him.
Maybe, to anyone else, it would seem dramatic.
But if they’d spent an unforgettable seven minutes in a closet with one of their boyfriend’s teammates, they’d probably panic too.
Of course, Zeno doesn’t suspect a thing — or maybe he’s just never paid enough attention to notice your turmoil.
To him, you’re still hopelessly in love with him. That night was nothing more than alcohol-fueled stupidity. At least, that’s what he wants you to believe instead of acknowledging how much he’s been around lately.
The guilt gnaws at you enough that you play dumb for your own sanity, pretending the whole thing never happened.
And somehow, that works.
For a week.
Despite how the memory lingers in your dreams in the best possible way, you make it through without issue.
No Leon.
No fights with Zeno.
No problems.
You’re in the clear. Mostly.
A stack of books tumbles from your cart after a freshman clips the corner without looking. The sharp clatter echoes through the library, just loud enough for the librarian to appear from seemingly nowhere and shush you like it was your fault.
You apologize anyway, crouching to gather the scattered books.
Working part-time at the campus library isn’t glamorous, but it passes the time and puts extra money in your pocket for relatively little effort.
Collect books. Reshelve them. Help students find things they could’ve searched online themselves.
Easy.
More importantly, it’s quiet — a welcome escape from the exhausting chaos that comes with dating Zeno.
Your phone buzzes in your pocket.
You pull it out and check the message.
Speak of the devil.
going out with the boys. don’t wait up tonight.
You stare at the screen for a moment longer than necessary.
Finals week is creeping closer, which means the library stays open later and fills with students desperately trying to absorb entire semesters overnight.
You’ve gotten good at noticing who comes and goes.
Mostly because you’re usually the one stuck fixing whatever mess they leave behind.
So naturally, your irritation deepens as you push your cart toward the study rooms and glance through the windows.
And immediately stop.
Zeno’s lying.
His boys are here.
Albert stands at the chalkboard, aggressively working through an equation while Ethan looks seconds away from throwing himself through the glass. Carlos laughs loudly at something Ethan says, and you glance back down at the text on your phone.
Something sour twists in your chest.
Maybe you stop being the one who puts up with everything.
You hate that thought. Leon’s words an echo of doubt ever since you heard them.
Your eyes flick back toward the room just as Albert notices you. He smiles faintly and gives a small wave. The others quickly follow.
You force yourself to smile back, lifting your fingers in greeting.
Ethan mouths help me dramatically before Carlos yanks him into a headlock.
A laugh slips out before you can stop it.
No wonder the librarian hates them.
Your gaze drifts across the room again before catching on the far corner.
And freezing.
Leon sits near the back with a clipboard balanced against his knee, half-covered in equations and messy doodles.
He’s already looking at you.
That same look from the party.
Surprised. Focused. Like he hadn’t expected to see you either.
The eye contact lasts too long.
You break first.
Quickly pushing your cart forward, you turn on your heel and disappear down the nearest aisle before the old wheels can squeak loud enough to betray you. Not running but something close.
A second later, you hear the study room door open.
Shit. Maybe a bit of running.
You abandon the cart entirely and weave through the shelves, ducking deeper into the archive section.
Left. Right. Another right.
You know this place better than anyone besides the librarian himself, and even he rarely ventures this far back.
Your footsteps stay light and quick, almost feline — not at all like a grown man sprinting through a college library.
It’s ridiculous.
Completely ridiculous.
But you can’t seem to stop running.
Eventually, you slow to a halt and listen.
This deep in the archives, all you can hear is the low hum of the overhead lights.
You sigh in relief.
Maybe you lost him.
You wait another minute crouched low between the shelves before finally standing again.
You turn —
And immediately collide with someone solid.
You nearly yelp, but a hand clamps over your mouth before the sound can escape.
Wide-eyed, you look up.
Leon.
His other hand rises, finger pressed to his lips.
You nod quickly.
Leon slowly removes his hand from your mouth. Neither of you speaks.
The silence stretches unbearably thin.
“Excuse me,” you whisper finally, trying to sidestep him.
Leon moves faster.
Before you can react, you’re lifted clean off the ground.
“Leon—!”
The protest barely escapes above a whisper before he’s already carrying you deeper into the archives.
He shoulders open the supply closet door, slips inside with you still in his arms, then kicks it shut behind him.
Your back on the floor as soon as you were off it. He turns away from you.
The lock clicks.
“Leon, you can’t be—”
The rest of your sentence disappears the moment he turns around.
He looks furious.
Not cold furious.
Wounded furious.
His brows are drawn tight, lips pulled into a sharp frown, blue eyes fixed on you with an intensity that makes your stomach flip.
“…serious,” you finish weakly.
The closet is cramped, not nearly as small as the last one, but still close enough that one step backward has your shoulders brushing cleaning supplies.
Leon closes the distance instantly.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for anything to—”
He kisses you before you can finish.
Hard.
Desperate.
Your brain short-circuits for exactly one second before your body reacts on instinct.
Your hands grab his face immediately, and Leon lets out a rough sound against your mouth as he pulls you closer.
Cold fingers slide beneath your shirt, gripping bare skin.
You shiver.
Leon doesn’t let you pull away for even a second.
His teeth catch your lower lip before he finally breaks the kiss long enough to mutter:
“Jump.”
That’s all the warning you get.
He’s already lifting you again before you can process it, hands firmly under your thighs as your legs instinctively wrap around his waist.
Your back hits the wall.
You gasp softly as Leon kisses you again, even hungrier this time.
Your arms slide around his shoulders, pulling him impossibly closer.
When he finally pulls away, it’s only to press heated kisses along your neck.
“You’ve been avoiding me.”
His voice comes out lower than you’ve ever heard it before.
You shake your head automatically.
Leon pinches your side lightly in response.
A punishment for lying.
“I don’t like that,” he murmurs against your collarbone before sucking a mark into the skin there.
You should care.
You really should stop him.
Instead, your head tips back against the wall.
“I’m sorry, Leon,” you breathe.
The sound seems to affect him instantly because he groans against your throat before kissing you again.
Slower this time.
“Don’t apologize, baby,” he says softly against your lips. “Just make it better.”
And honestly?
You try.
By the time the tension finally settles, you’re both breathless and trying to straighten your clothes like two guilty teenagers.
Leon stands in front of the tiny mirror attempting to fix his hair while redoing the buttons on his jacket.
You smooth down your sweater, still catching your breath.
Leon breaks the silence first.
“Sorry,” he mutters, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s just… been a while since I’ve seen you.”
For the first time since dragging you in here, he can’t look you in the eye.
You laugh quietly.
“It’s okay,” you say. “I’m sorry too.”
Leon finally glances your way.
The look lasts all of two seconds before he suddenly grabs your face and kisses you again.
This one is different.
Gentler.
Almost embarrassingly affectionate.
You laugh against his mouth and shove lightly at his chest.
“Okay, down boy,” you tease. “I’m still on the clock.”
Leon opens his mouth to respond before his eyes drift downward.
To the marks blooming beneath your collar.
His entire face immediately turns pink.
“Oh my God,” he groans, pressing his forehead against the wall.
You snort, covering the exposed area by linking another button.
“Sorry.” He mumbles into the wall.
“It’s kind of cute,” you admit.
“That’s not helping.”
You laugh again while fixing yourself enough to look vaguely presentable before moving toward the door.
Leon, meanwhile, remains firmly planted in what has now become his shame corner.
You unlock the door before pausing.
He isn’t following.
“Leon?”
He groans dramatically without turning around.
“What’s wrong,” you step closer and he immediately angles his lower half away from you. “Oh.”
Right.
That’s wrong.
You slap a hand over your mouth to keep from laughing.
Leon’s ears burn crimson.
“What?” he mutters defensively. “You look hot all disheveled. You can’t expect me not to get hard after all that.”
Your laugh escapes anyway.
“Just give me a minute to calm down,” he grumbles.
Shaking your head, you move closer and press a quick kiss to his cheek before slipping out the door.
Behind you, Leon makes a wounded noise.
“That didn’t help!”
You leave him there anyway.
It doesn’t take long to relocate your abandoned cart and slip back into your routine.
Eventually, the boys pass through the library on their way out.
Leon lingers just long enough to throw you a wink.
Your stomach flips all over again.
You don’t have to be the one getting walked over.
His words echo in your head the rest of the night.
Zeno may have started this mess first, but that doesn’t make what you’re doing any better.
You pull out your phone, teeth worrying your bottom lip as your fingers move across the screen.
Literally anything with Leon and a twink reader. Whatever you're feeling in the moment and want to write, im a simple man and starved for twink reader stuff.
In the hour you’ve been at this party, you’ve been ignored, shoved, and had a drink spilled down your jacket — so now your shoulder smells like passionfruit vodka.
This isn’t your scene, and you’re not going to pretend otherwise.
Normally, you’d be home, keeping yourself busy with anything that isn’t this. But you were dragged here against your will.
Your boyfriend, Zeno, pushes through the crowd and finally spots you.
“Hey — there you are! I’ve been looking all over!”
He hasn’t.
You know that because you’ve watched him walk right past you more than once without a second glance.
Still, you smile as he approaches.
Zeno pulls you into his side — warm, unsteady — and you dodge the liquid sloshing dangerously close to the rim of his cup.
“C’mon, we’re playing a game.”
He’s already dragging you toward another room — one closed off from the main party. So that’s where he’s been.
“I don’t know, Z… I’m getting kind of tired,” you try, hoping to slip away.
His grip tightens.
“What? No. One game won’t kill you.”
You silently hope it might.
You’re guided to a different area.
The room is quieter, sealed off behind sliding doors. A group sits in a loose circle.
A broken bottle rests in the center.
…Of course.
“The king has arrived!” someone calls out — Daniela, you think.
Cheers follow as Zeno drops into a beanbag and pulls you down beside him.
“Finally! Thought you ditched us,” another voice adds — Bela, maybe. “Where’s the new bottle?”
Zeno groans dramatically. “Shit, forgot to grab one. Got distracted.”
His fingers dig into your sides — you swat him away.
A man — Albert — adjusts his glasses with a sigh. “You’re useless.”
The doors slide open again.
You glance back—
—and meet a pair of steady blue eyes.
“Good thing Leon’s here.”
The voice fades into the background.
Because Leon S. Kennedy is looking directly at you.
Not casually.
Like he didn’t expect to see you here.
Like now that he has, he can’t quite look away.
He blinks, shifts, and lifts an empty bottle.
The group cheers and the game resumes.
It doesn’t take long to figure out the game.
Spin the bottle — with rules.
If you’ve hooked up before, you kiss.
If you haven’t… closet. Seven minutes.
You hate it.
Even more when Zeno participates like it’s nothing — kissing others like you’re not even there.
You lean closer to him.
“I should go. I’ve got an early morning.”
“What? No — you haven’t even gone yet. And how are you getting home? I drove.”
You clench your jaw.
Anything would be better than this.
You argue quietly — until someone cuts in.
“No side conversations. It’s your turn.”
The room shifts.
All eyes are on you.
“Sorry,” Zeno cuts in, grinning. “My boyfriend’s a buzzkill — he wants to leave.”
Boos erupt.
You try to brush it off — but it gets under your skin.
Zeno sees it.
Hooks you back in.
Before you can react, his drink is at your lips.
“This’ll help.”
You cough as the alcohol burns down your throat, spilling down your chin and onto your jacket.
“Zeno—”
“It’s just a jacket. Wear mine.”
You barely recover before—
“How about I spin for you?”
Too late.
The bottle spins.
Slows.
Stops.
You follow its direction.
Past Zeno.
To—
Leon.
He’s already looking at you.
Like he never stopped.
The room fades again.
For a moment, it feels like the only thing that exists is that steady, unwavering gaze.
“Well?” someone asks. “You two ever—?”
You don’t answer.
Leon does with action.
He pushes off the wall and walks to the closet without hesitation.
Confident.
Certain.
The room erupts.
You’re pushed to your feet and follow behind with half steps.
Behind you—
“Remember,” Zeno calls, “you’re mine.”
The room erupts in ‘oo’s.
You don’t turn back.
“Seven minutes boys.”
The door shuts.
Silence drops hard.
The music, the shouting — gone.
All that’s left is the small space, the faint smell of alcohol — and him.
Leon stands just a step too close.
One hand lifts near your head, catching a hanger before it can brush you. The movement is automatic — careful in a way you didn’t expect from him.
You swallow.
“Sorry,” you say quickly. “I didn’t really want to play. Zeno just insists… on everything.”
A dry laugh slips out. Leon doesn’t laugh.
He watches you.
You open your mouth to break the awkward tension again.
“Why do you stay with him?”
The words cut straight through you.
No hesitation. No softening.
You blink. “What?”
Leon doesn’t move away. If anything, he shifts closer — just enough that you feel it.
“He treats you like shit,” he says, voice low, controlled. “So why stay?”
Your chest tightens. You don’t know why you answer but you do.
“I care about him,” you answer, quieter now. “He’s been there for me. I can’t just— walk away from that.”
Leon watches you like he’s weighing every word.
“Even after everything?”
A hesitation. You don’t answer.
Because you don’t have one.
A beat passes.
“Ever think about getting even?”
You frown. “What does that mean?”
“It means,” Leon says, stepping closer, “maybe you stop being the one who puts up with everything.”
You can see his line of reason.
You frown. “I’m not cheating on him.”
“But he can do it to you?” Leon presses.
That hits deeper than you want it to.
Your jaw tightens.
Leon sees it.
Steps closer.
Now your back is brushing the wall.
“You don’t have to be like him,” he says, quieter now — but somehow heavier. “But you don’t have to be the one getting walked over either.”
You try to laugh it off — but it comes out weak.
“And who’s going to want to get involved with someone like—”
Leon moves.
Fast enough to steal the rest of your sentence.
His arm braces beside your head, closing you in. The other hand settles at your side — firm, grounding, impossible to ignore.
Your hands come up instinctively, pressing against his chest.
Solid.
Warm.
Too close.
“…me?” you finish, barely above a breath.
Leon’s eyes drop — just for a second.
To your mouth.
Then back up.
“I would.”
The words aren’t rushed.
Aren’t careless.
They land heavy.
Certain.
His grip loosens just slightly — not letting go, but giving you space to choose.
To stop this.
Or not.
You should.
You know you should.
But the part of you that’s been ignored all night — dismissed, embarrassed, overlooked—
Wins.
Your fingers tighten in his shirt.
You pull him in.
The kiss hits harder than you expect.
Immediate.
Heat rushing up your spine as Leon exhales against you, like something in him snaps loose the second you close the distance.
His hand at your side tightens — pulling you in until there’s no space left between you.
None.
Your back presses fully against the wall now.
His body follows.
Close enough that you can feel every shift in his breathing.
Every controlled movement that’s starting to slip.
Leon kisses like he’s fighting — focused, deliberate — but there’s an edge to it now. Something rougher breaking through the control.
Like he’s holding back and losing the fight.
Your grip on him tightens, pulling him closer even though there’s nowhere left to go.
His other hand comes up, sliding behind your neck — steadying you, keeping you right where he wants you.
Your breath catches when his mouth shifts — slower for a second, then deeper, like he’s testing how far he can push this.
How far you’ll let him.
He gets low to your shoulder — knowing better than to leave evidence on the neck — and sucks.
A quiet sound escapes you before you can stop it.
That’s all it takes.
Leon’s restraint cracks just a little more.
His hand at your side presses firmer, fingers flexing like he’s grounding himself through you. His forehead raises briefly against yours — just a second—
like he’s catching his breath.
Or losing it.
“You have no idea…” he murmurs, voice rougher now, closer than it should be, “how long I’ve wanted to do that.”
The admission hangs there.
Heavy.
Real.
And then he’s back on you again — like he regrets giving you even that second of space.
Time blurs.
Everything narrows to heat, pressure, the way he reacts to you like this isn’t new — but something he’s been holding back for a while.
Something he finally gave in to.
You don’t have much time.
Leon pulls back suddenly — but not far.
Just enough.
His hand lingers a second longer than it should before dropping.
He looks over your confused expression before reminding you of the time.
You straighten quickly, trying to steady your breathing, your thoughts — anything.
“Best time of my life.” Leon smirks.
The door opens.
It’s abrupt.
Too fast.
The moment snaps.
Zeno stands there.
Watching. As if he was expecting something.
Leon steps past him like nothing happened.
Calm. Composed. Untouched.
You follow a second later.
Back in the room, Zeno pulls you into his side again.
Familiar. Easy.
Wrong.
“What’d you do? Talk?” he asks, smug.
Leon leans against the wall again, thumb brushing absently over his lower lip.
If possible an insecure ftm reader x any leon smut where hes just reassuring reader that he doesnt need to be cis to be loved. Pls thank you hehehehe
Take care
Re9!leon × ftm!reader
This was cute to write I wish I could have a big strong older man take care of me lowk angels been craving it hide your dads everyone ִֶָ. ..𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ🪽་༘࿐
Warnings - smut,flufff,insecurities so bad self talk but leon is NOT having it, pre-op but on testosterone.
You were doomed since the moment you opened your mouth, youd made the mistake of talking bad about yourself while looking in the mirror with your boyfriend around.
You made a heavy sigh looking at the curve of your chest like it personally vexed you.
"Sometimes i wish I just wasnt born trans at all- I would have preferred just being born a boy or not at all im so tired of this bullshit." You reached around under your shirt to take off your binder or atleast try too without lifting your shirt which was a nearly impossible task
He walked up behind you. his rather large arms snaking around your waist as he kissed your neck making you look rather small in comparison.
"Don't say that about yourself" he said firmly.
"you're the man you are today because of your struggles, and I love the man you are today." he murmured against your neck holding you tighter biceps flexing a little with the movement.
You didn't seem very convinced.
"Things would have just.. been easier yknow. If I was a guy" you mumbled.
"You are a guy." He was more firm with his tone now looking at you analytically.
"You know what I meant-" you sighed.
"I dont. Your a man. One of the best men I know." He grabbed your shoulders and turned you to face him forcing you to look him in the eye.
"But wouldn't it just be... easier? If I had a..... you know." You mumbled.
"Its plenty easy as is. And you do have one." He furrowed his brows at you that stare feeling like a magnifying glass burning you.
You shifted to step away sitting on the bed looking tired head in your hands.
"Look lets just- lets not talk about this... its making me depressed" you spoke quietly trying to avoid the problem.
Leon stepped over kneeling infront of you looking up to make eyecontact again.
"No. We're talking about this. Your a handsome man and damn sexy too you dont have to be Cis to be a true man. You already are and your just as deserving of love" he said voice not wavering even a second as his hand lightly guided your jaw to keep looking at him when he spoke.
"And ill prove it to you.." he began trailing kisses up your calf rubbing and massaging out muscles as he moved slowly.
Even rubs and heated kisses sliding up your knee and towards your boxers.
"I love you, I love coming home to my handsome boyfriend your so good to me I might aswell return the favor." He kissed your Tdick through your boxers experimentally pausing to see what reaction he was getting before continuing.
"Your getting so big now.. been thinking about this all day." He murmured the vibrations making you twitch.
He began mouthing at you through the thing cotton fabric of your boxers even licking a stripe up it for good measure his hands rubbing your thighs.
"May i?" He looked up at you while nuzzled against your crotch.
"You can." You nodded face a fire red you didn't quite have many ideas on what to say but you didn't want him to stop.
He flipped his thumbs into the waistband of your underwear and slid them down in one smooth stroke before leaning back to his spot.
"Been dreaming about sucking this cock for weeks." He mouthed the sensitive flesh making you jump with how sudden it was.
Warm and wet tounge licking a stripe up your length and latching his lips over it one hand rubbing up and down your hairy happy trail and stomach as the other holds your thigh open for him.
You groaned and tried to hold still against the sudden assault on your senses, tired eyes fluttering as he sucks loudly and sloppily licks you.
"Such a big boy" he spoke right against it making your hair stand on end as a tremor wracks your body hand moving to his hair automatically to anchor yourself in some way.
You opened your eyes catching the view in the mirror leons head bobbing up and down on your dick as he stayed on his knees before you.
You moaned feeling him get more confident with his motions groaning against your heated flesh as he does.
Your hips began grinding against his face you could feel that familiar ache coiling deeply in your bones.
Tugging those blonde locks between your fingers. Suprised to hear him moan so much when you did.
He rubbed your hips with his thumbs a he pulled you impossibly closer eating your t-dick like a man starved until he finally feels you shudder and squirm with a squeal.
He laps up every drop of cum he can burying his entire face between your folds as your hips buck and grind against him.
"Good boy," he finally parts panting and covered in slick. His entire face glistening.
You wheezed, Tired, and dazed he pushes you to lay back on the bed as he cleans you up with a washcloth.
You can feel him slide boxers on you then join you in bed but honestly they felt a little big, you looked down and realized they were his boxers the nice navy ones he wore.
He wrapped his arms around your chest and stomach bear hugging you back into him as he spoons you from behind moving to drag up the large comforter over you.
"Just sleep baby ive got you. You look so tired.." he murmured to you warmly.
Summary: He notices everything, and you made the mistake of leaving him alone for too long. Most importantly, he isn’t very fond of sharing you with the rest of the world.
A/N: Requests are open, for any gender. ^_^ As for right now I’m writing for Resident Evil. (Mostly Leon, which versions must be specified.) I’ll write any ideas you may suggest, including dead dove, nsfw, yandere, age gaps (legal). All asides from racism, homophobia, incest, no minors etc.
- As far as you could remember, you’ve always been fond of animals. In fact you preferred their company over interacting with other people. After all, their love was unconditional, no matter what form you take on or the passage of time. Whether they were a stray, feral, disabled, it never made you flinch.
-So of course you gladly take up the offer of taking in a hybrid. They were the new hot thing. Chris had suggested it given your experience with animals. From his perspective, he had high hopes that you could tame him one way or another. Chris explained how Leon’s hostile behavior had hindered his ability to work with others on the field, resulting in searching for the most viable solution, you. Fast forward upon meeting, needless to say, Leon wasn’t pleased in the slightest.
- At first he’d growl or snarl, snap his jaw the minute you stepped in his space. He refused to let you near his makeshift nest, the couch, including his bowl of food. At times he’d even go days without eating anything when you were around.
-He so used to being on high alert, stiffening at loud noises, sounds, anything out of the ordinary. Including smells that even you aren’t aware of.
- Your continuous patience and determination never faltered, besides, you had dealt with far worse in the past. Leon couldn’t deny that you intrigued his senses with interest. He was used to being feared, picking up on the way others would stand on eggshells around him. Leon was aware his breed wasn’t exactly the family friendly type. He used it to his advantage after all.
- Over time, Leon walls would crumble bit by bit. He silently studied your routine, observing your habits, emotions, and what makes you tick. Every time you left for work, his ears would flicker in your direction. Leon’s gaze was fixed on your car pulling out the driveway when you weren’t looking. Now, every second that you weren’t with him, felt like a nightmare. He’d stare at the clock, obsessively counting down the hours until you were finally home.
- The moment you took the risk of touching him, spoiling your hybrid with scratches, pets, cuddles, he grew addicted, and fast. Your kindness, the way you gazed at him like a being, rather than a weapon or something to gawk at on display. It made him feel strange, warm and fuzzy inside. Is this how you were with every single one of your patients?
-The walks at the park together were a breeze for the most part. Unfortunately other pets you’d encounter wouldn’t dare get close like they used to, leaving you a little disappointed.
- Sometimes when you weren’t around, it’d become so unbearable, he’d sneak into your room. Leon would scavenge your belongings, shredding your lab coat apart, rutting into your pillows, mattress, leaving odd stains you’d find. To make his point, he went as far as to marking territory by pissing in certain areas of your room including the front yard.
-Even the strays that used to come by suddenly stopped. Had you done something to drive them away? Their bowls of water and food outside your porch were now left untouched. Perhaps they didn’t like the type of food you bought them anymore..
-The scent you carried had always driven his instincts wild. That perfect trace of earl grey that lingered every time you were near. It took everything in him to keep himself from groaning like some needy, pathetic mutt. His imagination would wander at times, coming untouched or by his own hand. He felt a little ashamed, because he wasn’t some hormonal puppy anymore.
-On the other hand, the thought of you treating anything else with your sincerity..blessing them with your presence made his skin disgustingly crawl. Perhaps he’d feign an illness just so he’d have an excuse to lap up your attention. You looked so ethereal doing so, how you were so careful when tending to his needs.
- As soon as visitors, family, friends or even potential partners would visit— he’d go back to his old self. He’d secretly sabotage your relationships, making sure each one never even entertained the idea of coming back. Can’t you see? He’s the only one you need! He can keep you safe if you’d just let him. Leon wants to try to put his combat experience to use to impress you.
-So when you worked overtime one night, barely taking one step in through the door, you find yourself held tight into place, a strong firm grip on your shoulders. He’s already half hard in the fabric of his jeans, the bulge pressing against your thigh.
-He’d let out a faint, needy noise between a moan and a whine, harshly licking the exposed part of your shoulder. His light stubble, scratching against you like sandpaper. The hybrid would trace the expanse of the pleasant, plush tasting surface with his tongue gently. Only to bite down hard with his canines, savoring the crimson that pooled. Leon was doing everything in his control to erase the foreign smells tainting your skin. He’d make sure it left a wound, a clear signal for anything to back off.
-He’d aggressively rub his head all over you, without meaning to be so rough. You couldn’t bring yourself to be harsh when disciplining him. You did just leave your poor pup all alone all day. Leon couldn’t help himself. That ugly, bitter feeling had his sharp ears pulled back, his tail held stiff. He’d growl, and nibble your fingers in retaliation if you even dare try to pry him away.
-Don’t even think about covering it up for work the next day either. He’s not letting you walk out so easily if the bite isn’t visible to the public eye.
-You’d spend the next hour in his makeshift nest, by force until morning. Hell, not like he’d give you a choice. This is your fault. He’d hold you close, nose pressed against the top of your head, his ears attentive to your heartbeat. Leon peppered kisses across the strands of your soft hair. He was very pleased with himself now that you reeked of him.
-He’d never verbally ask for it, but he’d silently sneak up on you to bump his head, nudge your shoulder, wrap his arms around your torso where ever you were. As long as you were in sight, praising him for his good behavior, the primal side of him would rest easy.
-Overall he’s annoyed when you only see him as a pet and not a potential life partner. Leon wouldn’t willingly share his knot with just anyone.
-If that won’t make you understand, he’d resort to pretending to take his heat suppressants, purposefully leaving himself vulnerable in your care. In his mind, the idea of you being a proper mate for his puppies doesn’t sound so bad. You already knew how to take care of litters. Surely, you wouldn’t mind your own! It didn’t matter if you had a reproductive system or not, he’ll find a way for you to carry his offspring.
(Reader in here is based on Milton from Mr. A's farm btw and yes, reader here is male)
Tags: lactation, perv Leon, mention of trauma
Enjoy this short, I didn't have too much motivation to write something big, but I promise I'll make it up with the next one ♡
Rancher! Leon sneaking into the farm house where the cow hybrids are held, goes specifically to you. He politely asks if he could drink milk from the source (your chest) and hold him in you arms when he does.
And you, being nice, allows him to come into your room, sit on your lap and suck the milk out of your chest. Your arms wrapped around him to support his back as he drank.
This became a normal occurrence with the older man coming over to lay across your lap to drink your milk and be held. You we're sure if this is a kink to him or a way to cope with some trauma, but you don't question it too much.
Summary: It's been a month since Leon rescued Ashley from the Los Iluminados cult, but he still can't escape the memories.
a/n: One-shot based on this request.
Things have felt off ever since Leon came back.
You clearly remember the day he opened the door after his mission to save the president's daughter.
His face was pale, and he had small cuts all over his body. Overall, it was nothing you weren't used to, but you were worried by the look in his eyes.
They were hollow, and there was no emotion visible on his face. Even when you went to check on him, the look remained the same, and he was quiet.
You could barely tell that he was back home.
Even after a whole month, nothing had changed. He would still talk, but only if he really needed to, otherwise, your boyfriend would isolate himself.
Sighing deeply, you rubbed a hand over your closed eyes. You had been up for hours already and finally decided to go to your shared bedroom, having stayed up to finish an episode of a series whose plot you couldn't even recall anymore.
The closer you got to the bedroom door, the more noises you could hear. The rustling of bedsheets and the sound of heavy breathing grew louder as you put your hand on the doorknob and slowly opened the door.
Even though it was dark, you could make out Leon's form in bed, tossing and turning, which was strange. He was usually the type of person not to move around too much, and the closer you got, the more you could hear his heavy breathing, despite his eyes being tightly shut.
Sweat was forming on his forehead, causing a few strands of hair to stick to it, and his hands were clenched into fists as he held the sheets tightly and let out a sound that almost sounded like a whimper.
Nightmares weren't unusual for him. There had been many times before, but this was the first time he seemed more distressed than usual.
"Leon," you whispered gently, sitting down on the edge of the bed and keeping your eyes on his face.
There was no reaction besides the heavy breathing, so you called out to him again, this time louder.
For a moment, you thought he was going to wake up, as he froze for a second. But then you noticed his knuckles tightening on the sheets as he groaned in pain.
You carefully placed a hand on his shoulder and opened your mouth to speak, but he suddenly moved up and flipped you over onto the bed in the exact same place he had just been lying.
His left hand pinned your wrists to the mattress. You let out a surprised noise, which made his eyes snap up to look at you. But this time was different.
The hollow look in his eyes had gone, and he was looking at you in an indescribable way. There was not a hint of softness as his right hand suddenly crept up and tightened around your neck.
Your heart beat rapidly against your ribcage and your breathing became shallow as you felt the grip on your neck slowly cutting off your air.
You couldn't move your arms since he was holding them down, so you lightly kicked his hip with your knee, making him loosen his grip.
This made you breathe in again, finally free of restriction, as you felt him let go of you. You should have felt relieved, but when you looked in his direction, you saw him back up, his hands trembling as he let out a heavy breath.
As you slowly got up, Leon moved closer to the wall and pressed himself against its cold surface. You abruptly halted your movements.
"Leon, it's okay," you said slowly and quietly, but Leon shook his head.
"I-It's not," he stuttered softly, his voice pained and almost unintelligible because of what he had just done.
You switched the bedside lamp on, the room was now bright enough to clearly see his face, which almost broke your heart into a million pieces.
The ends of his light brown, almost blonde hair were sticking to his face. He held his hands in front of him as if trying to create more distance between the two of you.
He was pale, his eyes wide with fear and his lips quivering slightly. "I-I hurt you," he said in a hoarse voice. The sound almost made you tear up, Leon himself was having a hard time not starting to cry.
"You didn't want to-"
"I still did!" He cut you off sharply, his voice a little louder than before. "Those were my hands that just left marks on your neck!"
You didn't care about the marks because you knew they weren't intentional. Even after telling him again that it was a nightmare that had made him do it, he still shook his head. The disgust was clear on his face as he still couldn't realise what he had just done.
"Leon, please just come back to bed," you said. All you got in response was a pained 'No', which made you slowly stand up and take a couple of steps towards him.
He started to shake his head and a tear ran down his face. "Please don't come closer," he whispered, letting out a harsh exhale. "I don't want to hurt you again."
You didn't let up, though. Now that you were standing in front of him, you slowly took his hands in yours. He flinched violently for a second. "It's okay. I promise you it's okay," you whispered softly, before gently pulling him into your arms. He stiffened up at first, but slowly relaxed into your embrace.
You drew soft imaginary circles onto his back with your right hand while holding onto him with your left.
No words were spoken, but you could hear him softly crying with his face buried in your hair. He could barely even bring himself to put his arms around you.
Leon wasn't the type to cry easily, so you could tell that everything was taking a big toll on him.
Kissing his shoulder, you whispered into his ear, "Let it all out. You've already been strong enough."
After a few more minutes, once he had calmed down, you gently took his hand and led him to the bed. His movements halted, but when you looked back and said, "I trust you, Leon," he let out a shaky sigh and nodded as you two started laying down. His head was now on your chest and you ran your fingers through his hair.
There were bound to be more nightmares in the future, and many more missions that would cause them, but you weren't going to back out.
Even if Leon was being hard on himself, you were ready to list all the good things he had done for you and others.
DSO wasn't treating him like a human being, but you would be there to remind him that he is a human every single day.
Summery: Leon notices you're tired of your role as "the guy in the chair," so he takes you out to the shooting range with him.
1k words
-
You had to admit it, sometimes you felt just a tiny bit useless
Now obviously you weren't fully discrediting yourself and saying your role in Leon getting from point A to point B was entirely pointless, you were just signaling that you wish you were shooting up some zombies with him. Though he did make it a point to mention how he thought your job was more important than his, or that he'd be lost without you pointing him around all the time through his earpiece, which you could admit was partially true, that really wasn't the point at all.
The point was, you weren't out there, you were sitting around at your desk in the dead of night, compiling evidence for him to backflip off of, safely tucked away in the office, catching up on the book you were reading earlier, or crocheting another hat you'd most likely forget about the minute you got home.
Leon noticed, considering he slept right beside you most nights, it'd be pretty weird if he didn't, every time you sighed mid mission when you'd find out he had to stay out a bit longer, because who the hell likes sitting at their desk all day. Or when he'd mention something he did, like finishing a mission in less than four hours or something, and you'd just look at him with that very specific look he'd only ever seen from you, not quite jealousy but something dangerously close.
At first, he was a bit confused since you didn't really have much of a problem with assisting him a couple of weeks ago, usually sticking to your navigation niche, you must have had a change of heart all the sudden with the way you were acting lately.
He can't just take you on the field with him for apparent safety reasons, and some other, more selfish reasons; he couldn't help it. If someone had to be out there, in harm's way as much as he was, he would rather it be him than you, no matter how experienced you were.
You weren't only untrained with firearms, but the closest thing you had to hand-to-hand combat experience was those short self-defense classes you took years ago. That's when he thought about it, why doesn't he just take you to the shooting range, you can get some practice in while simultaneously spending some time together. When he brought it up to you on one of those silent, calm nights when you both could just relax in bed, you seemed more than on board.
-
"You probably already know this, but this little one's a pistol, more specifically a glock," he shows it off in his large hands for you before pulling back the slide, "I usually keep one of my suppressors on here cause I rather not blow my ears out, if you don't want this on you can just pop it off." He moves it around a little bit longer before holding it out for you, "so, wanna give it a spin?"
"Do I?" You take the gun from him, measuring its weight in your hands before getting into what you assume is the proper stance to shoot in. It's definitely not right since Leon comes up behind you to correct your posture immediately. Positioning himself right behind you, with his heat hot against your body as he squashes his chest against your back, wrapping his rough hands around yours to get a hold of the gun while lowering his head onto your shoulder, seeing exactly where you're going to shoot, "Couldn't imagine running around with one of these all the time."
"You get used to it," Leon pulls a pair of bulky protective glasses from his pockets before slipping them onto you. "Now go on and get that target." Leon encourages, patting you on your lower back, when he finally leaves your side you fire a couple rounds at the target, missing most of them, you do still manage to hit a shot or two a few times, it definitely gets your blood pumping and your arms shaking but damn you're horrible at it, Leon on the other hand stares from behind you, with a silly smirk across his face that he managed to keep hidden behind his palm.
After you use up the last of the bullets, he comes back over, trying his absolute hardest not to crack a joke about your aim whilst he picks out another gun for you to try, "nicely done."
"You're not only saying that cause I'm your husband, right?"
"What? No, never," He takes the pistol from your hands and replaces it with the second, much heavier gun, its frame almost slipping out of your hands just from its weight alone, "you think you got this one, it's a revolver, so you might need some help holding it still."
"If you can shoot this thing, I'm pretty sure I got it."
"Okay okay," he mumbles, backing up with his arms raised when you playfully shrug him off of your shoulder, he stands over in the corner, watching you do your own thing with his hands in his pockets, you aim, than lower the gun to catch your breath since its as heavy as a baby, than you aim again, finally pulling the trigger, just for nothing to come out, you click the trigger multiple times before holding it down with as much force as you could provide.
"Is this thing broken-"
You feel the gun almost fly from your hand as the bullet blasts from it, the sound almost impossibly loud, even through your headphones. It takes you a second after the initial shock to notice that singular bullet blew a hole clean through the wood, "You didn't tell me I was holding a mini shotgun!?"
"I thought you could handle the requiem."
That thing has a name? "You know what, I think I'm perfectly good off of that." You say, clicking the beast into safety before putting it down, "I'll let you handle the shooting, at least until I get bored again."
"And I'll be waiting for that day, so I can hide."
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.
gif - gif - gif
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.
SUMMARY: Leon and you don't plan on taking training to the next step, but you kissing him out of nowhere and realizing you both have kept your feelings for the other as a secret make you take things to the next step, specially when Leon's tied up to a chair
‼️NSFW: Leon's tied-up, semi-public sex, recorded sex (little plotwist at the end), oral sex (male receiving), thigh riding, p in v, protected sex, riding, overstimulation. Age gap
✹ PAIRINGS: RE9 Leon Kennedy x Partner!Reader
✹ WORD COUNT: 3942 ✹ Find me on AO3
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💬 Lots of you want me to release this fic... and it's finally here! It cost me a lot to write, but I'm happy with how it turned out, so I really hope you like it as well! Special DT to Ari who's the one who requested this fic: I really hope you like it! 💖
“Remember, if at any point you feel uncomfortable—”
“I know, Leon: I’ll let you know.”
“You sure you want to do this?” Leon asks in a firm voice, though he sounds a bit unsure. “We can try a different thing that might make you feel more comfortable, or something you like better…”
You sit on the metal table in the room, arms crossed, not taking your eyes off your partner as he keeps talking about how he doesn’t want you to feel uncomfortable, especially when it comes to scenarios you have to practice just in case…
“You were the one who came up with the idea,” you reply, smiling slightly at him.
“Yeah, I know,” he looks up at you, raising an eyebrow and crossing his arms as well. “Still, that doesn’t mean I don’t want to make sure, again, that you’re comfortable with this. I don’t know… maybe you’ve changed your mind and you prefer doing something else. Or not doing anything at all.”
Neither of you says anything for what feels like seconds that stretch into an eternity. It’s Leon, of course, who takes the initiative, sitting down in the chair next to him.
“I’ll start,” he says again.
“Do you think that’s the best way to…? I don’t know, I’m just asking because if you’re teaching me and all that…”
“Yeah, just listen to me,” he interrupts you. You can tell he regrets it, and you can also tell he seems to be apologizing with his eyes. “I think it might be easier for you if you watch me act while I explain. That way you can see what works best, what might go wrong, what might work, and what doesn’t—”
“Well, then… are you going to sit down?” you ask cautiously, getting up from the table and taking a few nervous steps toward him.
He doesn’t answer, but he does sit down in the chair in the middle of the room right away. He places his hands behind the backrest, his wrists perfectly aligned, as if he knew exactly what he was supposed to do.
You don’t know if it’s because he’s been kidnapped more times than he’d like, or because he’s done this kind of training with other colleagues.
“Okay, since we’re here, let’s take this opportunity to practice tying knots,” he tells you.
That’s a clear and direct order, so you do as you’re told: you stand right behind him, pick up the rope lying on the floor, and start wrapping it around his wrists.
“Try not to pull too tight,” he instructs, looking over his shoulder at you. “Remember, we’re just practicing, and you’re not really kidnapping me… or that’s what I think.”
You roll your eyes, and you can’t help but let out a quiet chuckle that escapes your lips.
You wrap the rope around his wrists three times, focusing more on the precision of your movements than on the force you’re applying. You tighten the rope carefully, your fingers brushing against his hands and wrists as you begin to tie the knot. You feel the warmth of his skin, more than you expected.
You’re surprised at how calm he can be when you, with just that simple touch, are already a complete bundle of nerves.
“Great. Now, tie another knot. Better make it a double knot… or even a triple knot.”
You follow his instructions, sliding the rope with increasing ease until his wrists are perfectly tied together at the back of the chair.
You step back a little, not so much to check how it looks but to force yourself to put some distance between Leon and you. You notice him shifting slightly, making sure he’s tied up tight, making several rather aggressive movements.
“Damn, you really did tie it tight…” he says, clearly in a tone that’s anything but flattering. You feel your cheeks turning a little red, and you curse yourself under your breath. “Okay, if you were the one tied up, you have to, first of all, not panic: that’s exactly what ends up killing you.”
“Thanks for telling me. I had no idea,” you reply sarcastically.
“You have to try to assess what’s around you… if you can, of course,” he continues. “You know we always carry small hidden knives, but there’s also the possibility that they’ll take everything from us. Take some time to relax without letting your guard down, and look for anything you can use to break the rope.”
You circle around him, listening closely to what he’s explaining, until you’re standing right in front of him.
Leon, however, although he seems relaxed… on the inside, he’s the complete opposite.
He doesn’t take his eyes off you for a moment, his gaze following you all over the room. He knows you’re a little nervous, which is why you can’t stop fidgeting, though he doesn’t blame you: if he were in your shoes, he’d probably feel the same way, even if he was better at hiding it.
“Next, you have to test its strength, though don’t overdo it because it takes a lot of energy,” he continues. “Try to find a weak spot, the knot—”
“What if there’s someone else in the room putting pressure on me?”
You decide to move a little closer to him, standing directly in front of him, just a few steps separating you.
His gaze rests on you, steady, and you can’t help but feel a strange sensation in your stomach.
It’s not nervousness, but quite the opposite.
“You play along. You wait, and as soon as you can, you find the perfect moment when they lose the control they think they have. They’re always going to end up losing control, trust me.”
“You make it sound so easy,” you cross your arms, leaning on one leg.
“It’s not,” he replies firmly. He shifts in his chair again, and you start to worry that he’s uncomfortable. “It’s a matter of whether you want to get out of this alive or not. You end up getting used to it.”
You can’t help yourself.
You move a little closer to him, closer than necessary, closing the distance between you, crouching down until you’re at his height.
Leon doesn’t flinch at this, as if he’s more than used to it, but his gaze does seem to soften a little and, above all, he pays even more attention to you.
“Anything else?” you ask again, though this time your voice is much softer… and suggestive.
“If, at any point, you feel uncomfortable during all this we’re doing, just tell me and we’ll stop. I won’t question you about anything, I promise.”
You smile a little.
“You’ve already told me that.”
“And I’ll tell you again if I think it’s necessary.”
“I know… But seriously: I’m really comfortable with you, Leon.”
And you mean it.
It’s the first time in the nearly six years you’ve been working for the DSO that you’ve felt this comfortable with a colleague.
Maybe, too comfortable…
“I’m supposed to keep teaching you how to escape if you find yourself in a situation like this,” he says, seriously.
“And I’m supposed to not be getting so distracted by you.”
Your answer is sincere. Too sincere, and you know it. You sit up, lowering your gaze, fully aware that, of course, that’s the last thing you should’ve said to Leon.
You knew that, even if you didn’t want to admit it, those words had crossed the line of what you’d forced yourself not to feel: even the slightest attraction to Leon.
He seems to notice the slight change in your behavior. You’re surprised that, instead of saying anything back, he sighs in a way that makes it seem like he’s laughing a little. You don’t know if it’s at you or the situation.
“I could say the same about you, you know?”
You don’t answer, not quite sure if he said that just to keep the conversation going, or because he really means it.
“Are you just going to leave me hanging like this?”
Even though you’re a little embarrassed, you dare to look at him again.
You notice how he shifts cautiously in his chair when your eyes meet. You sense that this time he’s not doing it out of discomfort, but you’re not sure if nervousness is getting the better of him.
“Do you think it would be a problem?” you reply, in a tone much more suggestive than you expected.
“No,” he admits. “But I don’t think it would be very useful for our training.”
You’re not quite sure why you’re doing it, but you decide to go with the flow.
You position yourself behind him, too close, and place your hands on his shoulder, beginning to massage it.
“I thought it would be good to see how long you can stay calm under pressure. You know… I think you mentioned something to me once about staying calm at all times, and all that…”
Now, you run your hands down his arms, caressing them more than you should, but unable to stop now that you’ve let yourself get carried away.
You feel Leon tense up, holding his breath for a few seconds as your hands return to his shoulders and slowly move up to his neck.
“I can keep it together longer than you think,” he replies, a little flustered.
“I guess we’ll have to find out.”
With your hands still on his neck, you stand in front of him and, without hesitation, place both legs on either side of him and sit on his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck.
“I’m starting to think you’re testing me…” Leon whispers, pressing his forehead against yours.
“Is that what you think?”
“I’m sure of it.”
You hold his gaze for a few seconds, and without a moment’s hesitation, you cup his cheeks and kiss him.
Your lips pressing against his, your hands on his neck, caressing him, in a matter of seconds, it takes you both by surprise, just like hearing each other moan.
When you realize the line you’ve just crossed, you pull away from Leon, standing up and clumsily taking a few steps backward that almost make you fall to the floor.
“Shit… Leon, I— I’m sorry, no… I mean, I don’t know why I did that. I mean, I do know, but I know it’s completely out of line, and not professional at all— I mean… we’re just coworkers and— Sorry, I shouldn’t have…”
The words come out of your mouth much faster than you’re able to control them.
“This is supposed to be a training session, we’re colleagues, and I… Fuck… I crossed the line when all you’ve done is making sure I feel comfortable… and that just makes it all worse! And you’re tied up!” you pace back and forth, twirling your hair, very nervous. “I know I shouldn’t mix personal stuff with work, and I know I should have just focused on doing the exercise… I really don’t know why I did that, and I’m truly sorry… I know right now you must be thinking I’m an idiot, and that—”
“Hey.”
Leon’s voice, way too calm, interrupts your speech… if it could even be called that.
You stop wandering around, not daring to look at him.
“Hey… Look at me.”
When you do, it’s more than obvious that he’s still in the chair. However, his expression has completely changed.
“Come here,” he says.
“What?”
“Come closer.”
You’re surprised that he’s staying calm and, especially, that he hasn’t untied himself yet, as you knew he was more than used to doing, and walked out of the room.
He’s acting too confident, and you don’t know if that’s a good thing or the exact opposite.
You hesitate for a moment, wondering whether to obey him or be the one to leave the room. You take a few steps forward, then a few back, unsure of yourself, until you decide that, whatever happens, you have to face the consequences of what you’ve done.
“Can you come a little closer? And crouch down,” Leon asks when you stop in front of him.
When you do, the last thing you expect is for him to be the one to kiss you now.
Your lips meet now with much greater ease. You feel a kind of intensity that you don’t quite know how to explain, but that, at least on your part, is because you’ve wanted to do this for far too long.
Your hands instinctively reach for his shoulders again, lifting you up so you can sit on his lap once more, all the while continuing to return the kiss.
“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do this…” he admits in a low voice as you pull apart, gasping for air.
A sigh escapes your lips, almost like a moan, and you can’t help but stifle a laugh.
“Really?”
“I swear.”
You search his face for any sign that he’s lying to you, that he’s saying it out of mere obligation and to spare your feelings.
You don’t want to get your hopes up, but… there seems to be no doubt that Leon wanted to cross the line just as much as you did.
“Me too,” you confess.
That’s enough to make the distance between you disappear again.
Your fingers tangle in his hair as you seek a little friction against your pussy. You were getting too desperate, and you know Leon is, too. He’s moving as much as he can, trying unsuccessfully to close the distance between you even further.
“Leon… I— I need you—”
Your voice trembles, a mix of the growing pleasure you’re feeling and the doubt about whether this is what you should be doing or not.
“I need you more than just this… I’ve thought about…”
“I know…”
You force yourself to pull away from him a little. You see a smile appear on his lips, and you feel a tightness in your chest.
“You don’t even know what I was going to say…”
“Think whatever you want, but bet I’ve been thinking about the same thing as you.”
“And…?”
“That I want to do it too.”
“Are you… really sure?”
He nods.
“I think, at this point, we can say training season’s over,” he says, leaning in to give you a quick kiss on the lips.
“So…”
“Don’t start something you don’t plan to finish.”
“But… you’re still tied up,” you murmur, your fingers reaching around to the back of the chair, searching for the knot to untie it.
“I’m fully aware of that.”
“Do you want me to untie it, and…? You could tell me to stop, you know.”
Leon chuckles softly.
“I could, of course, but I’m not going to.”
Deep down, that answer reassures you.
“Are you sure? As… sure?” you ask him again.
He nods.
You decide to get off his lap and, instead, kneel in front of him.
Your hands rest gently on his thighs, slowly moving up toward the button on his pants, unsure whether to continue.
You look at Leon, who hasn’t taken his eyes off you for a moment.
“Do you still think this is a good idea?” you ask, unsure of yourself.
“What I think is that, if you don’t do anything about it… I’m going to end up coming just from seeing you like this.”
With that, your fingers make up their minds and unbutton his pants. Leon lets out a guttural moan as he sits up slightly to help you pull down his pants and boxers at the same time, throwing his head back when he sees you start to play with his cock, which is fully erect.
“Jesus…” he mutters under his breath.
You suck on the tip of his cock, then immediately take the rest of it into your mouth. No matter how hard you try to set the pace, it’s Leon who lifts his hips, fucking your mouth, slowly at first, but gradually getting rougher as he lets himself go.
You run your thumb over the tip while continuing to jerk him off with your other hand, feeling him tense up as you pick up the pace a little.
“Faster…” he begs you. You do as told. “Yeah… Just like that…”
You brush your hair aside to press your lips against his tip, starting to circle it with your tongue while continuing to jerk him off with your hand.
You hear Leon mutter several curses under his breath, growing more and more desperate.
He thrusts his hips toward you again, so you decide to take his cock back into your mouth. You keep sucking him up and down, focusing on the movements he seems to like best while not stopping your hand job because you realize it gives him even more pleasure.
“I don’t know how we haven’t done this before…” you notice how he moves his hands, unable to do anything about it. He lets out a frustrated sigh, followed by a moan when you lightly run your teeth along its length. “Shit, I think I’m going to come… Can I do it in your mouth?”
You make a sound of affirmation, causing him to shudder and push his pelvis further toward your mouth.
You feel the muscles in his legs tense up, which is more than enough to let you know he’s about to come. You pick up the pace with your tongue, and a few seconds later, you feel him come in your mouth as you look into his eyes.
You swallow his cum and clumsily stand up, trying to keep your slightly sore knees from giving out on you.
“Did I do it right? Did you like it?”
You ask him that as you wipe the traces of semen from the corner of his lips, then pull down your own pants. Next, you position yourself on top of him again, placing your hands on his chest and pushing your panties aside, beginning to grind against his length.
“You did great…” He brings his mouth to your neck, biting it gently. You moan his name louder than you’d like to. “But I don’t think we’re done yet…”
“I need you to make me come,” you say honestly.
“I can feel you’re a little wet, yeah…”
“Do you want me to…?”
“I’ve got a condom tucked in a pocket inside my pants,” Leon tells you.
Quickly, you get up and rummage around until you find it. You open the package carefully, tossing the wrapper on the floor, and put it on him, making sure it’s on right.
“So you always carry a condom just in case…” you say, straddling him again. “Do you usually do this with a lot of girls?”
“No. I’ve just been waiting for this exact moment to happen with you,” he reveals. “I was hoping it’d happen a little sooner… but I’m not complaining.”
“Really?”
You place your hands on his shoulders and start rubbing your pussy. now even wetter, against his cock again.
“Well… if you keep torturing me like this, I think I’m actually going to start complaining…”
You take his cock and guide it to your entrance. Slowly, you lower yourself onto it until he’s completely inside you.
“Leon…”
You moan softly as you feel him fill you. He leans in toward your mouth, kissing you slowly until the lack of air forces you apart. You continue the swaying of your hips, taking your time, while running your hands over his chest until they reach his neck.
You feel Leon moving his hips as hard as he can too, deepening his thrusts, making you let out moan after moan, begging him to keep going, praising him all the time the same way he can’t stop praising you.
You bury your face in his neck, which Leon takes advantage of to attack yours with bites and kisses that you know will turn into hickeys. You bite your lower lip because you don’t want to sound so desperate.
“I don’t want you to hold back with me,” Leon tells you. Nothing but moans escape your mouth, getting louder and louder. You’re so lost in pleasure that you can barely say anything coherent, so Leon forces himself to stop thrusting. “Hey, look at me: did you hear me?”
You nod with your eyes half-closed, continuing to move.
“Y-yes, Leon…”
He starts moving his hips again, this time a little faster. You, inevitably, do the same.
You need to come as soon as possible, and the pressure you feel in the pit of your stomach tells you that, if you’re not already there, you’re dangerously close.
“Are you going to scream my name?” Leon asks you, his movements now so slow that it feels like he’s stopped, which makes you move a little more aggressively.
You bite the inside of your cheek. The only thing you seem to be able to focus on is the sound of your bodies colliding and your ragged breathing, along with the moans you’re both letting out, which are growing louder.
“Yes…”
“Come on, let’s go…”
You scream his name when you feel, once again, the speed at which he’s moving his hips going faster.
Your legs feel a little tired, trembling uncontrollably.
You rest your forehead against his and you wrap your arms around his neck, trying to find some balance because the pleasure barely lets you control your own body.
“Come on, I know you’re almost there…” Leon quickens his movements. His mouth moves to your neck again and then to your ear, where he can’t stop moaning your name and urging you to come. “Do you know how much I’ve wanted you to come on my cock? Do you know how much I’ve wanted to do this with you? Fuck… I want you to come now… You’ve got it, come on…”
Those last words, along with the hurried movements you’re making, are enough to make you feel your pussy tighten around his cock more and more until you end up screaming his name over and over.
Your back arches. Your legs give way. You feel your whole body tremble until you finally collapse onto Leon’s chest just as the orgasm engulfs you. You don’t stop moving on top of him, knowing you’re overstimulating yourself but wanting him to come a second time.
He comes shortly after, just like you, unable to stop moaning your name.
Carefully, you slowly pull away from him, still leaning on his arms and kissing him as you rise from his lap to sit back down on him.
“Well, it was…” you start to say, but Leon interrupts you.
“It was great. Did you like it?”
“A lot,” you assure him. He smiles contentedly. “And you?”
“I loved it,” he assures you, and you can’t help but let a shy smile appear on your face. “Although… I think we should think about what we’re going to put in the training report. I don’t think writing that we had sex while I was tied up is the best idea… though we can definitely do it again… if you want, of course.”
Right.
You didn’t remember that part.
Just like you didn’t remember that your superior told you there would be cameras recording to monitor the different training sessions you’d been assigned to do in pairs… so they could be discussed as a group later.
You turn pale, and Leon notices right away.
“Is something wrong?” he asks, concerned.
You swallow hard. You nod.
“Maybe… there’s this chance they do know we had sex...”
Fuck.
You are, definitely, in trouble.
THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING! Feedback, as well as comments and/or reblogs, are very much appreciated! My inbox is also open in case you want to make a request or talk to me! 💖
Summary: After saving Grace and putting an end to Victor Gideon. All Leon wanted was for his husband to be the one to fix him up.
CW: Hurt/Comfort - Slight angst - Fluff - Mentions of injuries - Leon is canon age (48) - Reader is in his late 40s - Reader is former doctor - Leon and Reader are married - Old man yaoi
Words: 2.3k
A/N: I've gotten a couple requests for another part to my first Leon fic, and while I appreciate how much you all liked it I'm not sure how to go about a part two. So, hopefully this satisfies everyone's cravings for some more Leon. Mostly hurt/comfort whump type idea. Fancy that another fic written and edited while slightly intoxicated, go easy on me.
It wasn't about the white-hot flare of pain with every ragged, shallow breath. It wasn't about the lingering heat of the infection, or the ghosts of Grace and Gideon. In the silence of the car, those names felt like static. It wasn't about the mission or the world ending—again.
It was about you.
It was only ever about getting back up, one agonizing movement at a time, and finding the strength to go home. He just wanted to walk through that stupid blue door and see your face—to see the way your brow furrowed in that specific, doctor-like concentration when you were worried.
Leon didn't care about the inevitable lecture. He knew you’d treat him like a child for being so reckless; he could already hear your voice, seasoned with the weariness of a man who had seen too much of the same biology Leon fought in the field. You had scolded him like that when you first found out about the infection—your hands shaking despite your years of medical training.
God, he wanted you to yell at him now. He wanted to hear you say his name and call him stupid, all while your steady, gentle hands—calloused from years of work but always soft when they touched him—bandaged his cuts and soothed the blooming bruises. He could almost feel it: the way you’d tuck a loose, sweat-matted lock of hair behind his ear while he shivered against the cold tile of the bathroom, leaning into your warmth because you were the only person who could make him feel human again.
His vision blurred as he finally pulled into the gravel driveway. The headlights cut through the dark, illuminating the peeling paint of the blue door and the soft, amber glow spilling from your bedroom window. You were still up. Waiting.
His hands trembled as he cut the engine, the silence of the car suddenly heavy. Every joint ached, and his lungs felt like they were filled with glass, but the sight of that light—your light—was the only thing keeping the darkness at the edge of his mind from swallowing him whole. He was home. He was back with his husband. Now, he just had to find the strength to open the car door.
The door handle felt like ice against his palm, a stark reminder that he was still vibrating with a low-grade fever. It took three tries to get his cramped fingers to turn the key. When the door finally gave way, the familiar scent of the house—old books, cedarwood, and the faint, clean smell of the soap you always used—hit him like a physical blow.
He didn't turn on the lights. He didn't want to see the trail of road salt and dried blood he was likely leaving on the rug. With a grunt of effort, he shrugged out of his jacket, the fabric stiff with grime. His fingers fumbled with the buckles of his holster, the heavy leather hitting the recliner with a muffled thud that felt far too loud in the quiet living room. He was lighter now, but he felt more fragile, his body held together only by the desperate need to reach the hallway.
As he neared the bedroom, a sliver of warm light cut across the floorboards. Then, he heard it—your voice.
It was low, hushed in the way people speak late at night, but it carried that jagged edge of anxiety you usually kept hidden.
"I know, Sherry. I know he’s careful," you were saying, your voice cracking slightly. "But it’s been three days since the last check-in. Just... if you hear anything, call me. I don't care what time it is."
Leon froze. Hearing you talk to Sherry—the girl who was as much your daughter as she was his ward—made the guilt in his chest flare brighter than the pain in his side. He leaned against the doorframe, his shadow stretching long and distorted across the carpet. He looked like a ghost haunting his own home.
"Baby," he rasped. It wasn't even a whisper; it was a broken sound, caught in the back of a dry, scorched throat.
In the room, the shifting of bedsheets stopped instantly. You looked up, the phone still pressed to your ear, your jaw going slack as your eyes tracked the battered silhouette in the doorway. For a heartbeat, the doctor in you was paralyzed by the husband in you.
"Sherry," you whispered, your voice breathless and urgent, never taking your eyes off him. "I have to go. He’s here. He’s home."
You didn't wait for a reply before ending the call, the phone slipping from your hand onto the duvet as you started to move toward him.
The distance across the bedroom felt like miles until you finally reached him, your arms sliding upward to drape carefully around his neck. You didn't pull him in tight—not yet—your instincts warning you of the hidden agonies beneath his gear
You just stared at him, your breath hitching. Slowly, your hands moved from his shoulders to cup his face, your thumbs brushing over his cheekbones with a reverence that made his eyes flutter shut. You tilted his head gently from side to side, searching his skin with a look of genuine bewilderment. The terrifying, ink-black lines that had once threatened to claim him—the mark of the infection that had haunted your nightmares—were gone. His skin was pale, mapped with fresh, angry cuts and the deep purple of blooming bruises, but it was him. It was just Leon.
Leon’s breath hitched, a jagged sound that vibrated through his chest. He reached up, his gloved hand trembling as he caught your wrist. He didn't pull you away; instead, he guided your palm down, pressing it flat against the center of his chest.
Underneath the grime, his heart was thundering, a frantic, rhythmic proof of life. He looked down at you, his blue eyes glassy and bloodshot, searching your face as if he were still trying to convince himself he wasn't hallucinating this quiet, warm bedroom.
"I'm here," he rasped, his voice barely a thread of sound. "I'm really here."
You reached out, your index finger tentatively tracing a shallow, jagged cut along his cheekbone. The moment your skin made contact, Leon flinched, a sharp hiss of air escaping through his teeth as he instinctively pulled back.
He braced himself then, his shoulders tensing. He expected the lecture. He expected you to demand to know why he’d been so careless, or to see that flash of professional frustration you got when a patient—or a husband—ignored their own safety.
But the scolding never came.
Instead, you leaned in, your touch feather-light. You began to pepper soft, lingering kisses against his bruised cheeks, your lips trailing over the unbroken skin near his temple. When you finally pressed a kiss to his mouth, it wasn't a greeting; it was a promise. It tasted of salt and exhaustion, but it was the first time Leon felt his lungs truly expand since he’d left the city.
"Let’s get you cleaned up," you whispered against his lips, the words soft enough to be a prayer.
Leon didn't argue. He couldn't. He simply nodded, his forehead dropping to rest against yours for a fleeting second before he allowed himself to be led. He followed you into the bathroom, his steps heavy and slow, trusting you to handle the weight of his broken body now that he didn't have to carry it alone anymore.
Leon sat heavily on the closed toilet seat, his broad shoulders slumped forward. His hair was still dark and heavy with water, dripping rhythmically onto the towel wrapped around his waist. The bathroom was small, the air thick with the lingering steam of the quick, careful wash you’d just given him.
Under the unforgiving glare of the overhead lights, Leon simply watched you. He watched the way you moved, rummaging through the cabinet under the sink with a focused intensity. He noticed the silver-gray strands at your temples that hadn't been there a few years ago, and the way you squinted, tilting your head to read the small print on a bottle of saline. When you finally found what you were looking for and turned back to him, the soft crinkles at the corners of your eyes deepened—a map of every worry he’d ever caused you.
You pulled a small wooden stool between his knees, sitting close enough that your thighs brushed against his. Leon didn't move; he just let out a long, shuddering breath, his eyes never leaving yours.
With a touch as light as a whisper, you reached up to brush a damp strand of dark dirty blonde hair behind his ear, tucking it away so you could see the damage. Your hands were steady, though your expression remained tight with a quiet, simmering concern. You didn't say much. You didn't need to. The silence was filled only by the click of the first-aid kit and the soft hiss of the antiseptic spray.
As you began to dab at the jagged cuts along his collarbone and chest, Leon’s body betrayed him. He tensed, his muscles roping under his skin, a sharp intake of air whistling through his teeth when the sting hit a particularly deep gouge.
"Sorry," you murmured, your voice low and gravelly with sleep and suppressed emotion. "I know, Leon. I'm sorry."
He shook his head slowly, his hand coming up to rest tentatively on your knee. "It's okay. I'm okay."
You worked in a rhythmic, practiced peace, cleaning the debris from his skin and smoothing antibiotic ointment over the bruises that were already turning an ugly, mottled green. Every time he flinched, you stopped, waiting for him to settle before continuing.
Leon watched your hands—those hands that had held him through nightmares and long nights of fever. He looked down at your face, feeling a sudden, overwhelming surge of affection that hurt worse than the wounds.
"Hey," he whispered, his voice cracking. He tilted his head down, catching your gaze as you reached for a fresh box of bandages. "Could you….kiss them? Like you used to?"
The request was so vulnerable, so stripped of his usual bravado, that it broke the tension in your chest. A small, genuine smile tugged at the corner of your mouth.
"Always," you breathed.
You peeled back a bandage and pressed it firmly but gently over the cut on his cheek. Then, lingering for a second, you leaned in and pressed a soft, warm kiss directly over the adhesive. Leon’s eyes closed, his entire body finally going limp under your touch.
You moved to his shoulder, Repeating the ritual. Peel, press, kiss. Then down to his abdomen, where the worst of the bruising lay. With every kiss you pressed against the bandages littering his torso, you felt his breathing even out, the jagged edges of his exhaustion finally beginning to smooth.
Leaving the bathroom felt like walking through a fog. Leon’s legs were heavy, his coordination frayed by the sheer weight of the day’s adrenaline finally leaving his system. You guided him back to the edge of the bed, where you had laid out a pair of soft, worn-in sweatpants—the kind he only wore when he was truly home.
"I’ve got it," he muttered, though his fingers were fumbling uselessly with the waistband. His brow furrowed in that stubborn, Leon-like scowl. "I’m not useless….I can do it."
"I know you're not," you replied softly, not letting the protest deter you. You gently brushed his hands aside, kneeling between his knees to help him step into the fabric. "But tonight, you don't have to be 'useful.' You just have to be here."
He let out a long, defeated sigh, his large hands coming to rest on your shoulders for balance. He watched as you dressed him with practiced, unhurried care, smoothing the fabric over the fresh bandages on his thighs. He looked so much smaller like this—stripped of the gear, the weapons, and the duty. When you reached up to pull a soft t-shirt over his head, he leaned his forehead against your chest for a second, his breath hitching.
"Thank you," he whispered into the cotton of your shirt, the fight finally draining out of his limbs.
pulling back the heavy duvet to invite him into the space you’d kept warm for him all night. Leon crawled in with a groan of relief, his body sinking into the mattress as if he were finally being allowed to merge with the earth.
Once he was settled, you climbed in beside him, propping yourself up on one arm. You opened your arms, an unspoken invitation, and he didn't hesitate. He shifted closer, tucking his head into the crook of your neck, his face pressed against the pulse point of your throat. His arm draped over your waist, heavy and grounding, his fingers curling into the fabric of your pajama top.
The room was silent, save for the rhythmic tick of the clock and the sound of his breathing, which was finally slowing down, losing its ragged, panicked edge.
"I love you, Leon," you whispered into the crown of his damp hair, your hand tracing slow, soothing circles across his back. "More than anything. Just stay here. Don't go anywhere for a long, long time."
Leon shifted, pressing his face deeper into your skin. "I love you," he rasped, the words sounding thick with the onset of a deep, bone-deep sleep. "Every time….I was just….coming back to you. Always you."
Within minutes, the tension left his frame entirely. His grip on your shirt loosened, and his breathing turned into the soft, steady rhythm of a man who finally felt safe. You held him tight, watching the shadows dance on the ceiling, knowing that for tonight, the world was far away, and Leon Kennedy was exactly where he belonged.
Hi my beautiful wife😝 I am BEGGING for a Leon Kennedy SMAU I know you can do it plzplzplz
YES TWIN i got you🥴
post-mission stress : re4r!leon kennedy x male!reader
tw: oral! male reader receiving, leon is kind of dominant
synopsis: after a stressful mission with saving the president’s daughter, leon decides the best way to wind down is to give you a massage; although, it doesn’t really just happen to be just a massage.
authors note: hi guys!! this is a special request by my lovely lovely bff. i don’t rlly write for male!reader bc im not a man, so… pls don’t send me asks about it😭 this is a special edition bc it’s my husband and ill literally write anything for them. anyway love yall💗
the small hotel smelt like old wood and beer that had sat out for a week. cracks littered the wallpaper clad walls, and the floorboards creaked with every step. but, you didn’t care. anything was good enough for you at the moment. you’d spent over twenty four hours awake with leon trying to save the president’s daughter. the things you had seen in the last day were enough to traumatize a whole generation. you were unbelievably exhausted, your muscles ached and your eye lids felt heavy. as your eyes rested on the bed, you groaned.
“guess the clerk was dumb enough to give us one bed,” leon scoffed behind you, “told her i wanted two. maybe she’s going senile.”
you let out a laugh at his words, shaking your head. “don’t make fun of the poor old woman, she probably just didn’t know.” you moved toward the couch, starting to take off all your gear. you let out some pained noises as the gear slid off of your sore muscles.
“you alright?” leon asked, wiping off his combat knife as he glanced toward you. he was sitting on the bed, manspreading, his dirty boots leaving tracks along the old wooden floor.
“m’fine,” you mumbled, sitting down on the couch, rubbing your temples.
“you don’t look fine,” he answered, standing up. “y’know what helps me after missions like this? massages.”
your gaze met his and you looked at him like he was speaking a foreign language. “massages?”
“yeah, massages.” he motioned you to come sit on the bed. “come here.”
you huffed out a sigh, moving to sit on the bed. you sat criss cross, your back facing leon. “really?”
“just shut up, trust me. it’ll help.” he stated sternly, his hands moving to your shoulders.
he started to rub the sore muscles, his fingers digging into you with a mix of pain and relief. you let out a soft groan. “fuck, that feels good.”
“see? i told you.” he chuckled, continuing to knead the sore areas.
you let out a soft noise, his fingers working your back so diligently. little did you know, each sound you made— made leon more flustered. his cheeks heating up slightly, his cargo pants tightening. he swallowed hard, his hands moving down your back. leon’s breathing started to pick up, he was an agent— fought monsters for godsake. why do you have such an effect over him? he was mentally cursing himself before he had an idea. he wanted to see how far he could take this until he found out if you felt the same way— or if he was just gonna make a fool out of himself.
his hands continued to trail across your back, rubbing the sore muscles. he leaned in, his breath fanning across your neck. your breath hitched, you were confused— what was he doing?
“uh… leon?” you stammered slightly.
“yeah?” he replied, his voice low and a bit raspy, different from the way it usually sounded.
“what’re you doing?..” you asked, you were still confused, oblivious to leon’s ongoing actions.
“you keep making those noises.. wanna hear more of them.” he whispered against your skin before his lips made contact, kissing along the backside of your neck.
your breath hitched, was he kissing you? you couldn’t deny that leon was attractive, hell, he was gorgeous. his blonde hair, blue eyes, and muscular frame…
“turn around for me, yeah? face me.” leon said firmly, already spinning you around to face him.
your eyes met his, the tension in the room was palpable, you could feel your palms starting to sweat— your face felt like it was on fire and your heart was about to beat out of your chest.
leon got onto his knees in front of you, spreading your legs. he could already see the tent of your erection poking through your work cargos, leon almost groaned at the sight. his hands gently ran across your thighs until coming up to undo your belt. you watched him with half lidded eyes, leaning back on the palms of your hands against the mattress.
he swiftly pulled down your pants, eyeing your length inside of your boxers. “god, you’re so hot..”
you swallowed hard at his words, squirming slightly as he leaned in and pressed kisses along your clothed length. “l-leon.. are you sure?..”
he nodded, “yeah, i’m pretty sure i wanna do this.” he let out a soft chuckle, before pulling down your boxers.
your cock sprang out, hitting your stomach. leon thought he’d drool at the sight of you, all patient and waiting for him. his blue eyes gazed up into yours before taking you in his mouth, starting to suck on your length, his hand taking what couldn’t fit inside of his mouth.
you bit back a moan, your head falling back as you felt his warm mouth engulf your dick. he moved at a slow pace at first, just gauging your reaction— every little noise or scrunch of your nose in pleasure. he was living for this, watching you crumble and fall apart just for him.
he started to move faster, his eyes not leaving your face as he bobbed his head harder on your length, earning a loud moan from you. one of your free hands came up to grip his hair, clenching around the straight blonde locks. “f-fuck.. leon..”
he groaned at the sound of his name on your tongue, vibrations shooting through your body. your hips jerked up into his mouth, seeking more friction— but he immediately shut that down, pinning your hips against the bed with his free hand. his blue eyes told a story, telling you, ‘let me take care of you.’
you let a whimper, his head moving faster, his hand in sync. you thought you were about to see stars, the coil in your lower stomach threatening to explode.
“s-shit.. leon.. i’m about to cum.” you stammered out, gripping onto his hair tighter, “slow down..”
but, he didn’t. he didn’t slow down. he kept up his fast pace, eyeing you as you turned into a groaning mess. hips trying to jerk up against him but failing as his strong hand kept you in place.
you whined as you spilled into his mouth, come coating the back of his throat. you panted loudly, chest heaving as leon let you ride out your high before pulling away.
he swallowed, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “head also helps with post-mission stress.”
Warnings : 18+ Only | Nsfw | Explicit M/M Smut | Top!M!Reader | Bottom Leon | Dirty Talk | Tattoo Appreciation | Creampie | Older Leon S. kennedy | Minors Dni.
“Get on with it,” Leon rasped, his tone edged with urgency, blue eyes flashing back at you over his shoulder. “I need this—need you inside me now.” You didn't need more invitation. Your cock, hard and throbbing, pressed against his ass, the tip slick with lube as you nudged it against his tight hole. Leon pushed back, impatient, his breath hitching when you finally thrust in—slow at first, savoring the way his body clenched around you. Inch by inch, you sank deeper, until your hips met the curve of his ass, buried deep inside him. A low moan escaped Leon's lips, his head dropping forward as his gray hair fell across his forehead. “Shit... yeah, like that,” he muttered, his voice strained with pleasure. You started moving, pulling out almost all the way before slamming back in, the rhythm building fast and hard. Each thrust made his back flex, those thick muscles tightening then releasing under his skin.
Your gaze locked on the faded tattoo just above his ass, that old tramp stamp he'd gotten in his wilder days before the outbreaks. It was a tribal design now, edges blurred from time and wear. The lines curved low on his lower back, dipping into the dimples above his cheeks, and every time you pounded into him, it seemed to shift with the ripple of his ass and the arch of his spine. You leaned forward, your chest pressing against his back, feeling every corded inch of him strain. “This tattoo... fuck, it's hot how faded it is,” you whispered against his ear, nipping at the lobe. Your hips snapped forward relentlessly, the slap of skin on skin filling the room, your cock dragging against his inner walls with each deep plunge. Leon chuckled breathlessly, the sound turning into a gasp when you hit that spot inside him. “Yeah? Been there since I was a dumb kid... thought it made me look tough.” He clenched around you deliberately, making your vision blur with the tight squeeze.
“Now it's just... yours to stare at while you fuck me senseless.” You grinned, straightening up to watch again—the way his back arched deeper, muscles popping along his shoulders and down to that tattoo, now glistening with sweat. Your pace quickened, as you drove into him, one hand reaching around to wrap around his leaking cock. He was rock hard, pre-cum slicking your palm as you stroked him in time with your thrusts. “Goddamn, Leon... your back is fucking perfect,” you groaned, fingers splaying across his back, feeling the muscle under your touch. The tattoo stretched with every movement, a hazy reminder of his past amid the raw power of his present. “Keep talking like that and I'm gonna cum,” he warned, his voice hoarse, pushing back harder. You felt him tighten, his body trembling as you both chased the edge—thrust after thrust, until he shattered with a guttural cry, spilling over your hand. The sight of his back arching, muscles locking in ecstasy, pushed you over too, your release flooding deep inside him with a final, brutal snap of your hips.
Exhausted, Leon eased down onto his stomach, but you stayed buried for a moment, tracing that faded ink one last time as you both caught your breath.
