certified 90s girlie. | multi-fandom reader insert connoisseur + contributer: currently writing for the boys, dispatch, and resident evil | sorrys i have already tried talking less. (see url) didn't work! | i have a case of 'obsessed with men' disease and they say it's currently incurable. and i've got the quaid strain. | ♡ header from @thesoldiersminute
♡ Heyy, I really enjoy writing and have been doing so since middle school all the way up to now, but it's been an on and off kind of an affair. I hadn't written in three years, actually, but I started getting back into it last year. You'll primarily find reader inserts here.
♡ Reminder; Due to the nature of the entertainment I write from, as well as the content of said fics, I'd like to reaffirm that my blog is 18+. Also I feel like it goes without saying, but just to further emphasize it, I do not want anything I personally write or post to be used to train AI. It feels ridiculous to have to say that, but I think it should be pretty obvious to never do that with any fanfic writer's work.
Also, heads up, if you've followed me for one thing, I don't strictly post for one piece of media- this is a multi-fandom blog even if it didn't initially start that way. My fixations are subject to change, and while the things I write are kinda for me, I like to share... so, you're more than welcome to message me or send asks!
♡ Masterlist - still being updated! In the meantime, you can check out my reader insert tag, too.
♡ Extra tidbits: Work fulltime wage slave. Coffee drinker. Always on that pun track kinda mind, and down to talk about boys (obviously.) A true jack of none, btw. I have a normal amount of hobbies but everything I touch is mediocre.
♡ What do you like to write? Primarily, I started out writing for The Boys + Jack Quaid focused works, but I am also currently writing for Breaking Bad, Dispatch, and Resident Evil.
For now, if it wasn't already obvious, you'll find that my preference is to write for Hughie Campbell, Robert Robertson, and Leon Kennedy on my blog currently.
Others I'd like to write for in the future would include Better Call Saul, You (Netflix), Invincible, certain horror films/franchises, and Supermassive games.
♡ Do you take requests? I haven't officially started taking requests! But my inbox is always open for interactions, suggestions, and conversation. Though, I am definitely open to write something if someone asks, but bear with me, my turnaround rate has been quite slow. And even though I don't have an official page for rules or anything yet, my works are mostly vanilla and are likely to stay that way. So please keep that in mind.
♡ How often do you post? Like stated previously, I work full time, and thus don't always feel in the mood to write. So, the frequency of posts will likely be inconsistent. So, in short, most days I'm unmotivated, and my mental + emotional health isn't the best right now. Though, I am working on it. I aim to post monthly at the very least.
⦾ » WIPs? - (How is it calculated? Based on the expected word count and how far in I am.)
eric king x reader (fluff, angst) 100% ; queued
leon kennedy x reader (smut) tbd wc— outlining
conrad (MoM) x reader (suggestive) tbd wc— outlining
ethan winters x reader (smut) outlined
au!re4r!leon x reader (fluff, smut) - tbd wc— outlining
joe goldberg x reader (dark, smut) - 50%
tons more in my ideas document, but i'm trying to finish these first. and if any of these interest you, give me a nudge if my progress looks stalled. cuz i'm open to refocusing to finish em sooner!
♡ divider credit
Summary: leon's feeling out of sorts and against his better judgement decides to call up someone he hasn't seen or heard from in a while. but he's not expecting anyone to pick up.
Content tags + warnings: Smut (18+). vendetta!leon, mild language warning, alcoholism/addiction, lowkey a little manipulative, pervy!leon -> subjecting reader to a conversation while he's stroking himself off without them knowing, essentially. for old time's sakes. yes, it's pretty shameless, you've been warned, lol.
Note: 3.4k wc. yeah. the title's a little cheeky in a punny way... ig. um, i know this is, again, shameless pwp and probably not for everyone. but uhhhh i needed to get this out of my system. kinda crazy that this hit me on a whim when i was taking a break from writing for leon, because i have like at least four other oneshots for completely separate characters that i've got scheduled to finish for august and sept, but instead this happened. woops.
>>video game masterlist
It was just any other restless afternoon. Leon thought he had it all figured out, if got back in time, he could accurately calculate when the buzz would kick in and offer some alleviation.
But that was hardly ever the case, especially when some of his thoughts felt even more blaring than normal. Hovering between violent memories, as well as some of the softer echoes— the slick skin rubbing against each other in the kind of feverish passion some claimed only ever existed in romance books. Not that Leon found himself doing that kind of reading, didn't have to. He was usually more of a visual creature, so more often times than not, just a glimpse of something that reminded him of a past encounter or a lick of a scent tended to send him into overdrive.
And the liquor was already starting to do its work, inciting the ache within himself.
The crumpled paper bag wrapped around the bottle was a measly attempt at discretion, especially now that he was back at his apartment. But now the heat was starting to get less bearable, as he unbuckled his belt for some reprieve. Next, his jeans were kicked off, considering that he couldn't lay comfortably on the sheets if they remained on any longer.
The curtains were mostly drawn shut, save for a sliver of light. It definitely set the mood, allowing him to sink into his mattress, easing into the cool sheets.
One of his hands remained pressed against his face, rubbing it gently, almost like he could chase away what haunted him, only for something improper to take its place.
With a particular image crossing his vision, he could almost picture a familiar face— a body that felt so alive with his own. Unfortunately, a certain turn of events had turned sour before he could properly process what had transpired between the two of you.
Lines blurred, and his hand was moving all too quickly for his cellphone.
Leon's mindlessly scrolled through his phone call history, this being the one he used for personal, and it didn't ring as someone who was particularly social. But he stared, his vision still mostly clear, as he reached again for the crinkled bag, swishing the alcohol at first before he swallowed.
His thumb hovered back and forth, recounting some of the mundane text conversations on a particular thread he hadn't deleted. His eyes were still heavy with what looked like a spark of interest, swiping his finger downwards a few times. What resurfaced just then felt like he'd be kicked. The date wasn't something he recognized, but it was the timestamps— having occurred in the middle of the night. Recounting the back and forth texts sent that led up to it.
Normally, Leon didn't think he'd be into sexting, but he was not immune to his own nature. And once he got going, especially when you had provided him with… some pictures to preview what was in store for him if he came over. Well, what naturally came after was all to unsurprising. Back then, and even now seeing it again.
He bit his lip, placing the bottle down as he then ran his hand down his abdomen, carefully palming at the "problem" beginning to form between his thighs. A soft hiss left him, realizing that he was probably not getting out of this without coming to a resolution. And boy, did he hate to leave things unfinished, without some good ol' fashioned closure.
All of a sudden, between the pictures on his phone and the bottle resting next to him on the bedside table— Leon stripped down to his bare instincts, he could feel the slight jump of twitch at his lower region, shutting his eyes promptly.
A soft exhale of air left him, and he was envisioning the way you used to look, though the details remained a bit foggy, the outline was enough for his other hand to surrender and just open up your contact details.
There your phone number was, he just had to hit the little icon and it'd start ringing (hopefully).
He hadn't tried to reach you in so long. And honestly? He did not think anything would come of it. It was just something he was doing before he really thought of consequences. Maybe you'd still have that voicemail message from before— he just wanted to imagine how you would sound if you had been waiting for him similarly.
But the moment you feel your phone vibrating in your pocket, you're actually in the middle of the grocery store— in the grains aisle, about to pick up some crackers when you check who's calling.
At first, you don't recognize it, simply because you've already deleted Leon's contact from your phone, but you had that sequence of digits memorized all too well. Normally, you weren't too keen on answering calls from an ex or anyone you no longer spoke with. And it's not like you never blocked numbers before, but this time… after the on and off's where Leon tried to reach you, it was any wonder why you hadn't just done the same to him.
He hadn't tried in a long time. Several months now, and you weren't counting, but it was long enough to believe he gave up. And just then, you imagined that this must have stemmed from boredom, not him actually missing you.
You stared at it for a beat longer, realizing that you could either let it go straight to your voicemail, or…
Honestly? There should not have been an alternative.
One hand remained on the shopping cart's handle, and you swiped answer before you could regret it for a second time. "Hello?"
Leon was simply gobsmacked, right when his palm was starting to move a bit more insistently over his groin, his eyebrows raised in serious consideration. "Hey…" was all that seemed to come out. "didn't think you would pick up, honestly."
Probably shouldn't have. You reasoned silently to yourself.
You wanted to ask why, of all times, he had to call now? And what even possessed you to answer it, but it also felt almost wrong to just abruptly hang up on him now. Not when you were arguing internally about missing the sound of his voice.
"… Are you there?" He asked, the rough rasp in his tone alerting you to where you were standing currently.
"Y…Yeah, I'm here. What did you want?" you tried. Very clearly, you were taken aback, too.
"I mean, it's been a while. Just wanted to check in… see if you had any change of heart or maybe hate me a little less."
You didn't want to admit that you may have spent certain lonely nights staring at your own phone, thumb wavering on whether or not you would send him a text. Thankfully, your logic had championed over your weaker inhibitions.
"I'm… kind of busy right now."
You heard a soft, but not impolite 'excuse me' from behind you, causing you to whip around and usher your cart across the aisle in response. You mouthed an apology to the shopper, realizing that you must have looked ridiculous standing there indecisively infront of the ritz and wheat-thins.
While you were distracted, Leon's stroking his length, completely freed from his boxers, underwear shed down ever so slightly, stretching across his thighs. It looked absolutely scandalous, though no one else was there to witness it, but he went slow to keep the phone up to his ear.
"You're not home." he stated.
Leon was aware enough to pick up on the details, discerning that the background noise sounded like you were out in public. And just picking up on that made the act even more daring for him. Just imagining the look on your face if you knew. But if you did, you were playing it pretty smooth to save him the humiliation.
Unfortunately, you were none the wiser, and if you had even an inkling of what was going on behind the receiver, you would have likely hung up. Most likely.
You were laughing a bit now, partially nervous but also in disbelief that he was really trying to pick up on things like nothing ever happened. "Yeah… I'm at the grocery store. You know, that thing everyone has to do occasionally."
"Yeah? What's for dinner?" he joked.
Normally he probably would have been curious to know what you were wearing, but that would have been a sore excuse, and it quickly would have garnered some real suspicion. Besides, last thing he needed was to scare you off now that he had you live on the other line.
"Nothing too exciting. Just some veggies and chicken."
Oh? You actual answered. That might be a good sign.
"Ah, nice." He was nearly gritting his teeth through it, but he played it safe while focusing on working himself, eyes fluttering shut for a second. Clearly imagining a certain color, and kind of fabric that might be hiding beneath your clothes. Did you still wear his favorites?
He was careful, treating the situation delicately, one wrong move— shit—
It'd probably take just one precise swipe, gripping his shaft just right, or an eager twist of his wrist and he'd fall in line, grunting right into the phone— right into your ear. And as much as he would have heartily enjoyed some good ol phone sex, he was also not drunken enough to realize how batshit insane if he lacked proper restraint. Then again, this was already a blatant show of impulse.
Despite his talents of being a multi-tasker, he tried to keep his pace reasonable, taking moments to pause while he waited for you to speak.
"So, why did you really call?"
Missed you. He wanted to say, he couldn't tell if that was entirely the truth. Though, he might have missed how easy it was before, how you weren't so much a stranger. Your warmth had drawn him in before, and it was tempting him even now. Despite your clear frustrations from before, he could tell you didn't hate him. Not if you tried.
"Just uh, I was digging through some of my things earlier," he gave pause, shutting his eyes, his tongue slowly curling till it grazed the roof of his mouth, head falling back slightly. As he swallowed, trying his damn hardest to keep it together, mind still slightly hazy from the alcohol.
"Okay." you simply said.
You decided to dart down a different aisle, in case you were getting in someone else's way.
"Look, I just… it's yours, figured you should get it back somehow. I remember what it means to you… it's something you always wore."
Your breath caught. You could have sworn you had lost that necklace forever. Considering that it never turned up at home. Normally, you would have hardly lamented a missing accessory, but this one mattered to you especially. This was a hand-me down, passed on from your family, and it meant a lot to you.
Little did you know, it was something that Leon had kept in his back pocket for safekeeping. Inconspicuously, one night after a rather intense session, while you were asleep, he unclasped it from your neck, moreso just so it wouldn't get caught on anything else. Though it was pretty dark then, and he reached over to place it clumsily on the nightstand, not even hearing the chain slip off the surface onto the ground.
He only found it much later underneath his bed— months after you two had been apart. Never would he think such a simple action would end up being his ace up his sleeve. But he couldn't find it in him to tell you about it. So now he was playing his hand, even though he had convinced himself he was not manipulating you. He was simply trying to get it back to its original owner. Maybe he was being a little too forward, all things considered— but it was his last chance to see you once more.
You chewed on your lip as you thought about it. "Is it…" you started, just to confirm the authenticity. You were skeptical he even remembered a detail like that.
Leon had the phone pinned to his shoulder as his freehand gently played with it, the pendant clear as day on his palm, as he described it seamlessly.
Though, if you knew that it was currently clasped around his neck; for him, the very image of your potential wrath made his heart jump. He probably deserved to be smacked for it. He twirled the pendant between his fingers, admiring it. Remembering fondly how it never remained still, always on your collarbone when you were ontop of him, your back arched, the glint of it catching the light just right.
"I thought I lost it."
"Maybe it's fate, huh?" he mused.
It was much too silent; he started to guess you may have hung up. But Leon's eyebrows furrowed with hope, his hand ceasing just then.
He was pretty good at keeping himself steady, his breathing as even as possible, his chest rising slowly. "When can you come by?" He couldn't help it. He had to ask, feeling even more desperate as the air left him.
The suspense you kept him on felt like foreplay currently and unfortunately had him throbbing near the edge of insanity. He felt absolutely pathetic right now. And he was starting to blame it on the spontaneity of even looking for those seductive pictures again.
"I… I don't know, I um," you started to say, clearly at a loss. Picking up belongings from an ex- or whatever Leon was to you… felt bizarre, especially when it's been months past what would be considered reasonable to come back for.
"I get it… I wouldn't want to see me either." He released a huff, unable to think of what else could stall for time, just to keep you on for a few minutes more.
The fact that you were entertaining this made his gut twinge with some guilt. This was so, so wrong.
"Let me just… give me a couple of hours." your voice trailed off. "I'll come over after."
"Hang on, you mean… today? Tonight?" he had to clarify. He didn't actually think you meant that.
He scrambled to slide his boxers down even further, not stopping until they were quite literally down to his ankles, as he fidgeted out of them the rest of the way now.
You cleared your throat. "Yeah, I'll just come over tonight."
"Alright, yeah. I'll be here."
Leon could feel the obscene trail of precum, dripping from the tip, swiping his thumb to spread it as evenly as he could across his length, nodding to himself like you could actually see his response. His jaw tensed at first and then went slack as if he sunk his head back, pumping himself rather generously now. Kind of scary how he went from cruise-control to speeding just then.
Leon still had the phone pinned between his cheek and shoulder, and if he didn't do something, he was going to blow it all now— the conversation, and hopefully not his load.
Nearly dropping the phone, he had to get a grip with his freehand, nearly fumbling it as he hit mute swiftly.
A long drawn out groan left him, one that he'd been miraculously holding in. "Fuuuuckk…."
"Leon?" you asked. It was the first time he heard you say his name since he called. And that clueless utterance of his name had him rushing, stopping his movement to squeeze as tight as he could around his shaft to temper himself.
He had to stop, just for a second, just… just— "Yeah, I'm here." he said, ragged.
Then he blinked, realizing he was still on mute, your voice still asking, repeating his name once more like you were genuinely worried that something was wrong. Collecting himself, Leon's mouth still halfway parted, unmuting it once more. "Yeah, yeah… sorry, my bad."
"I should go, I'm about to get in line." you quickly said. "Need to get some of this stuff in the fridge."
Once the two of you exchanged what felt like forced pleasantries, Leon laid his head back. He may have been slightly dizzy, but absolutely out of breath now. Felt like he had just disarmed a bomb having to keep quiet that long, the sweat dripping from his brow down the side of his face.
Except once his eyes took in the sight between his thighs, he handled himself with care once more, the noises leaving his mouth a lot heavier now that his pace was no longer restricted.
Normally, even while he was busy like this, he could keep cool enough, resorting to quietly panting. But the shuddering heave he elicited left him desperate, the muscles in his calves tensing as he felt himself bucking his hips, having been reduced to filth; like he was fucking the air.
He felt like he might die not having your warmth to envelope him just then. But this would suffice, it had to. There was no force on earth that could convince him that you coming by was going to lead to anything more. He had to take care of it now.
Leon shifted his other palm, scattering his fingertips across up his torso, to peel his shirt high enough to let his skin breathe. He could feel the strain, something like a choked whimper leaving him as he felt the buildup coming to a close.
He knew exactly how he needed it, and though he wished it could have been different, there was nothing easing the burn of reality. Your necklace currently dangling across his neck, right then as he came all over his hand.
Damn. He knew he had a problem, and he was ready to take this moment to his grave.
The sun's starting to set by the time you make it to Leon's place. Infact, you were probably just sitting in your parking spot for the last fifteen minutes, contemplating whether it was worth it to walk up to his door or just leave without your keepsake.
Well, you finally decided it might just be better to get it over with. And with a firm knock or two, you stepped back, looking off to the side while you waited.
Within a few moments, you could hear the soft thuds of footsteps, and the chain unlocking from the door, the latch sliding next. Then, there he was.
Leon was dressed rather casually, a dark tee and some sweats, looking like he just got out from the shower, a small towel draped over his shoulders.
Your eyes met his reluctantly, wearing an awkward smile while you tried to think of what to say without sounding too sentimental. But all that came out was a quiet, "Hey."
Leon's eyes looked heavy, probably was still having issues getting proper rest. "Thanks for coming by, I know I'm not exactly your favorite person."
Your patience felt tested, and you were not keen on sticking around long, especially when you knew the effect he had on you. "Right. So do you really have it?"
Leon, without another word, reached into his pocket, the necklace resting there in his palm.
You looked at it, hesitating at first, like it was some kind of trap. He kept his hand facing upwards, remaining steady as you gently brushed his hand in the process, to pick it up.
Lips quirking up into a slight smile, you looked at it pensively and then back up at Leon. And despite the weary look on his face, you had missed the way he looked at you.
Standing infront of each other like this felt surreal, since you had sworn him off so firmly before, though you knew your track record— and this was the longest you had been away from him.
"Thanks."
Leon smiled back, and sensing your hesitation, he slowly found his words. "Did you want to… " he tried to say, offering you to come in.
He opened the door a little wider for you, sensing your uncertainty and wanted nothing more than to allow you to make your own decisions.
"Okay." you finally said.
You may have been a stickler for closure, and you reasoned— your mind telling you that you deserved every right to it. But the heart's way of coinciding with your logic usually caused some rather inconvenient situations. And this was definitely one of them.
i know i say this often but i cannot say it loud enough: people who comment on fics, people who reblog posts and engage with fanworks are the people who generate community and without them fandom would be nowhere, so truly thank you for your presence, you make the world go 'round <3
aw right i'm pooped, going to bed now. but i just drafted three posts i'm meaning to finish up soon. all within the last week of july - first week of august.
i guess it's the gift that keeps giving once i actually start getting back on halfway finished wips, lol. which is kind of nice because some of them aren't as far off to be finished as i thought. i just get distracted or lose motivation really easy these days. just a little side effect of the sads i suppose 😔
This is just an idea about why Capcom is suddenly spotlighting the Leon S Kennedy is “married” idea onto the fandom.
If you think about it, Capcom actually included Leon’s death as an ending in RE9 (although it’s not canon). To me, this is Capcom testing the waters with a potential but very likely Leon death in the upcoming future. I don’t think Leon is going to fade away in the background and get his happy ending, this is the least likely ending for both narrative and profit reasons. Capcom is going to milk this poster boy for all he’s got and this includes the “wife” discourse and his legacy. What I mean by legacy is what will Leon leave behind after his death…
A child. Most likely a son because it goes against the “girl-dad” fandom assumption of him AND because the “new” generation of RE protagonists are mostly female (Rose, Emily, Grace, Moira if they ever let her out of the dungeon). His legacy is going to be a son because there is no way Capcom is wasting their Leon blueprint, unfortunately this potential character would most likely resemble Leon very much and almost to the point where it feels like Leon never died.
If Capcom do end up giving more insight in Leon’s relationship and it turns out that he is in a heterosexual relationship with a new character or NPC, then the chances of him dying and being succeeded by his child is very likely.
Apparently some people still need to hear this so: using an 'ai checker' is still using ai. If you are feeding someone's fic to one of these checkers, you will still not be sure their fic is ai because they are not 100% accurate, but you can be 100% sure that you are using ai. For fic. Furthermore you are doing the work of an ai scraper for them. You are, personally, feeding the machine. There is no actual excuse for using an ai checker on fanfic as a hobby. YOU are the problem.
If you think a fic is ai, mute it and move on. That's it. That's all you do.
