[the cautionary tale of manifesting love] ; [masterlist]
leon s. kennedy x reader
navigation || ao3 || wattpad
themes: reader insert, second-person pov, accidental isekai, parallel worlds, multiverse, pocket dimension, fish-out-of-water, strangers to lovers, romantic comedy, slow burn, eventual romance, mystery, supernatural, action, love across universes, destined love-ish, found family (kinda), internet culture, fourth-wall-adjacent humor, emotionally constipated men, terminally online narrator, internet brainrot, not canon compliant, eventual angst with happy ending, crack treated seriously
warnings: excessive profanity, canon-typical violence, crude humor, possible trauma references, eventual smut, body horror, blood and gore, survival horror, canon-typical violence
summary:
Congratulations. You manifested Leon S. Kennedy. You forgot to specify which one. Thanks to one catastrophically ill-worded wish, you're now trapped in a pocket dimension with four versions of your fictional crush.
The only way home? Fulfill the wish.
The wish?
"I wish Leon Kennedy was my boyfriend."
Bodyguard!Leon x First Daughter!Reader Enemies to Lovers
Chapter 1
❌18+ MDNI❌
Rude. Blunt. Cocky. Overbearing. Those were the words that come to mind whenever you think of Leon S. Kennedy, the man whose job is to protect you, yet drives you completely mad while doing it.
[Reserved, out of the limelight, and adopted, that is what is known most about you. The last point is the tabloids’ favorite topic when it comes to articles about the First Daughter, theorizing about your biological family and how you ended up chosen by your adoptive parents. That, along with scrutinizing every single outfit you wear whenever caught by invasive paparazzi in public, calling your style everything from ‘busted’ to ‘tacky.’ You wish you could burn them all.]
cw: bodyguard!leon, fem!reader, enemies to lovers, slow burn (if you know me, you know i mean it), angst, fluff, eventual smut, canon divergent, political themes (but it's RE core), they're both stubborn and annoying, as one is in every e2l.
Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4
shoutout @sammimi19 @12soap34 @theebladestar for proofreading ✨
dear friends! i am back with yet another series because apparently i cannot be stopped 🤓 today i bring you the bodyguard fic i have talked about which will now become my second long form series along hofah (and replacing ygbo)
i just want to give some context for the story. reader is the first daughter and replaces ashley graham narratively but with a LOT of differences. without giving spoilers, just know that ashley does not exist in this story, and that president graham is not as nice as in ID lmao
also real world politics suck so much ass right now i had to make this story very RE core with BOW social dilemmas rather than whatever the fuck is going on rn, because i refuse to cry of dread and despair every time i write a new chapter
i will be uploading once a week on every sunday, so stay tuned for new chapters folks! 🤍
Dim lights, trendy music, and loud chatter overwhelm your senses as soon as you step into the busy bar. It's a Friday night, so it comes as no surprise for it to be quite full. Not that you’re familiar with the scene—you haven't exactly had many chances to frequent the nightlife scene before. In fact, it's your twenty-first birthday tonight, and as per American law you can finally legally enter a bar.
But, unfortunately for you, American law also dictates that you're surveilled by two Secret Service agents inside the establishment, one waiting in the car outside, and then two more, each standing at a different entrance. Five of them total. Five men with barely concealed guns and ear pieces just for one single night of drinking with your girlfriends.
God, you have never hated being the president’s daughter more.
Readjusting your dress straps, you follow the lead of your friend Maya, who has been to this bar many times before, as she guides you to a booth. Your other two friends, Alex and Liv, follow behind until you're all seated around the table.
And, of course, from the corner of your eye, you spot Agent Davis at the counter, dressed in a poor attempt of casual fashion to blend in, and Agent Morales who gives you a curt nod from his spot in the corner. You don't even have it in you to return it.
“Hey, stop making that face,” Maya chides as she pokes your shoulder. “Just pretend they're not there! This is still gonna be fun, you’ll see!”
You sigh, but nod nonetheless. You know there isn't anything you can do to avoid their ‘protection.’ After all, your father, John Graham, is the incumbent head of state, and that comes with a whole baggage of responsibilities. None of which you wanted in the first place since you have never been fond of the man, let alone his politics.
“Okay, we’re here, we’re doing this… We just need to get some drinks,” you announce to the table.
“Oh, you’re not wasting time,” Liv giggles but agrees nonetheless.
After deciding your order, you volunteer to go place it at the counter along with Alex, just to experience ordering drinks like a normal adult for the first time. You know that in a busy bar in the middle of downtown D.C., you risk being recognized, but then again, the public barely knows much about you that you doubt anyone would bother approaching you.
Reserved, out of the limelight, and adopted, that is what is known most about you. The last point is the tabloids’ favorite topic when it comes to articles about the First Daughter, theorizing about your biological family and how you ended up chosen by your adoptive parents. That, along with scrutinizing every single outfit you wear whenever caught by invasive paparazzi in public, calling your style everything from ‘busted’ to ‘tacky.’ You wish you could burn them all.
“Two cosmos, one sex on the beach, and one espresso martini, please!” Alex exclaims to the barman with an excited smile.
The man behind the counter grins mid drink preparations, pausing just to extend a hand over the bartop for you to shake.
“Miss Graham, it's an honor,” he smiles enthusiastically. “Drinks are on the house!”
You return his smile with a polite one, already feeling put on the spot from being recognized, but you know the staff were pre-informed of your arrival so you don't let it shake you. But it’s that last sentence he said that somewhat irks you. You appreciate the kind gesture, of course, but out of all the people in this bar you are the last one in need of freebies, and it annoys you how it happens all the time.
It’s been almost four years since your father was elected in late 2000, and you can clearly remember how much more normal your life was before. People did not give a damn about your last name, and you were treated like any regular girl in the world. No special favors, no free perks, no people befriending you for ulterior motives. It was so much more simple before he decided to run for president—always greedy for more. You can't wait for him to leave office and for things to go back to how they were, but he is of course aiming for a second term, to no one’s surprise.
Five minutes later, you’re sipping your fruity cocktail at the booth, popping the garnishing cherry into your mouth in contentment. Your friends are happy to have gotten free drinks, and you're finally relaxing enough to enjoy your birthday night.
Swirling her glass, Liv gives you a pointed look with her amber eyes. “I still can't believe your dad actually let you do this!”
“She’s twenty-one, for God’s sake,” Maya scoffs. “It’s about damn time he lets her breathe a little.”
“Well, he only agreed because it's just you three,” you explain. “Plus, he still plans on celebrating what he calls my ‘real’ birthday party tomorrow with that whole dinner he's hosting.”
You omit the fact you know tomorrow’s celebration has nothing to do with you and everything to do with an excuse to gather influential figures that will aid him in his campaign. You would rather not think about that whole embarrassing situation at the moment.
“Either way, we all know tonight is when you’re having the real fun,” Alex snickers, already halfway done with her martini. “So drink up, babes, because we’re ordering shots next.”
And drink you do—cocktails, shots and even a glass of whiskey. It’s not the first time you consume so much alcohol that you become a giggling mess. Even as the resident Good Girl you still have your moments of rebellion. They're just usually short lived in order to not anger your parents.
“Oh my God, the hot guy at the bar keeps staring our way!” Liv suddenly squeals so loud you wonder if the music is enough to cover her comment.
Maya turns way too obviously as she looks over the line of stools where various people sit. “What guy? I don't see him.”
“That guy! The blonde one!” Liv clumsily points before Alex swats her hand down with a snicker.
You turn as well, looking to your right as discreetly as you can in your inebriated state, and sure enough, there is a guy. Even with your drunken brain, you can immediately acknowledge how incredibly attractive the man looks from across the room.
Dressed in dark jeans, a long sleeve black top, with a grey t-shirt over it, he looks to be in his mid-to-late-twenties, and effortlessly hot. Like the kind of guy who would get street scouted by a modeling agency and be completely clueless as to why.
But one thing's for sure, he does not look clueless right now as his gaze meets yours, ice blues intense and unwavering. It's a bit rude, really, the way he holds eye contact shamelessly, but it's then you realize he’s staring at you, specifically, out of all your friends, and that makes something inside you revel.
Oh, wait.
You recognize that look.
That small frown accompanied by the pursing of lips or sometimes a little head tilt. It's the look that says someone thinks you look familiar and is soon coming to realize who you are.
Sure enough, his eyes widen slightly when you keep your daring gaze on him, refusing to be the first to look away, as he seemingly finally puts two and two together. There, now he knows. He was never interested by you, only your vaguely recognizable face. It doesn't even come as a surprise, most people are like that anyway, but it still hurts a bit—he really is hot.
You finally look away, with your girlfriends teasing you about gaining his attention, but you know it's akin to the interest you might have for a wild animal at a zoo more than anything. So, you ignore it all, focusing on your drink instead, and forcing yourself not to look in his direction again.
Later, you leave the table with Maya to go to the bathroom, acknowledging Morales on the way with a small smile. You use the empty stall first, then wash your hands at the sink when it's her turn. The washrooms are somewhat busy, with people coming and going, many of them stealing glances your way that you try to ignore.
Your eyes focus on your own reflection instead. Your dark pink, sparkly dress whose left strap keeps sliding down your shoulder, your makeup that has slowly melted throughout the night and left you with raccoon eyes rather than a smokey glam. And then there's that look on your face. Like you're scared, or maybe anxious—a lost little girl trying to pretend her life is normal for once.
It's pathetic. No wonder that man, or anyone really, is never interested in you outside of your name.
President Graham’s presidency started right on your senior year of high school, which was not cool, but your classmates had known you for years, so the change did not feel drastic. College, however, was another story. It made everything more awkward than it already is for a young adult, especially when it comes to dating.
Disappointment after disappointment has made you allergic to relationships. Men are already assholes, but they get worse when they can get something out of courting you. It is not fun finding out the guy you have liked for months was only hoping your dad would secure him an internship at the White House. But then again, he was majoring in Political Science—you should’ve known better.
It’s been two years since, and you have completely forfeited dating. Your friends, however, continuously encourage you to ‘go out there and meet someone.’ In fact, tonight is supposed to be a chance to encounter somebody outside of your usual circles. Someone who hopefully doesn't care about your name but sees you for who you truly are instead. The problem is you don’t even know who that is anymore.
Bouts of giggling to your right call for your attention, and you turn to see a group of young women whispering loudly amongst themselves while eyeing you. Then with an air of cocky confidence, one of them approaches, a tall brunette, all white teeth and sparkly eyes.
“Hi! You’re the president’s daughter, right? Sorry, I keep forgetting your name,” she snickers while you look at her like a deer caught in headlights.
“Um, yes.”
“Great!” she gives an even faker smile, eyeing you up and down in the process. “Do you think you could get us some free drinks? I noticed the bartender put your tab on the house.”
Oh, but of course.
You feel instantly uncomfortable, and start calculating whether you should actually accept her request or not. It’s exhausting having to sieve every one of your actions through the filter of PR, but any wrong move and your face is on People magazine with a giant bold headline about how you're a certified bitch.
“I, um…” you stammer in hesitation, your mind running a thousand miles an hour despite its sluggish drunkenness.
“If you don't want to just say so,” the woman snorts sardonically.
You want to snap in her face—tell her she's being rude, that you don't owe her shit, and that she could at least start with a fucking ‘please.’ But then, your father’s cold eyes and stern face stop you dead in your tracks, and you swallow the onslaught of insults threatening to spill out.
Suddenly, Maya shows up beside you and links her arm around yours protectively. “Sorry, but Miss Graham is on a private outing and is not available for fan interactions,” she returns the woman’s phony smirk as she pulls you out of the bathroom. “Enjoy your night!”
You don't care to look back at the scoffing faces of the group, sighing in relief once you're back out amongst the tables and booths. You turn to meet Maya’s brown eyes and dimpled smile, and you offer her one of your own.
“Thank you,” you murmur in gratitude. Though, there is a feeling of embarrassment that settles inside you at not being able to defend yourself on your own.
“You don't have to thank me, those bitches were rude,” she huffs, her short stature making her cute despite her strong character.
“I know. I just wish I could actually say something for once…”
It upsets you to no end having to suppress your personality for the sake of good publicity. You want to be able to live a full life. Go out, drink, argue, date, have hookups and make bad decisions, just like any other girl your age unburdened by shoulder-crushing responsibility is able to.
Noticing your soured expression, Maya pulls you towards the bartop once more. “Come on, let's get another round and forget about those meanies.”
“Hell yeah,” you huff out a chuckle, grateful for the support of your oldest friend since middle school. You wouldn’t be able to do this without her.
Standing again at the counter, you let her put in an order of drinks and tapas while you look around mindlessly. Though, really it's just an excuse to eye the dark blonde guy from earlier who is still sitting on a stool, nursing a bottle of beer. You notice him absentmindedly toying with a navy cap that’s sitting on the bartop, a Patriots logo stitched onto it.
As if sensing your attention, he lifts his gaze from the sports hat to your face, a curious expression on his handsome features. Again, you start the unspoken staring contest, feeling a thrill out of ‘misbehaving’ through something so trivial after you were just a stammering mess in the bathroom.
He returns the challenge, eyes unwavering, until he suddenly speaks.
“You sure did a lot of drinking tonight.”
It takes you a moment to register his comment, but you’re too tipsy to analyze its connotations.
“What?” you blink in confusion.
“I said you’ve been drinking a lot… You might wanna slow it down,” he mutters matter-of-factly before taking a swig of his cold one.
“Uh, okay?” you scoff, completely taken aback. Maya finishes ordering right then, and you’re already tugging her arm to go back to your table in annoyance, when you catch the smug little smirk that spreads on his face.
You know what? Fuck being quiet.
Suddenly letting go of your best friend, you spin to stride towards the man with determination, albeit your walk is a bit wobbly from the alcohol. But you make it to him nonetheless, hands on your hips like a stern teacher.
“What does it matter to you if I drink? It’s my twenty-first birthday, I’m allowed to drink. I’m expected to, even.”
His eyes trail to the dress strap that has yet again slid down your shoulder, and you quickly fix it in self-consciousness, feeling your face grow hot.
“I never said you shouldn't,” he murmurs in a smooth voice that makes your brain tingle. “I just said it might be wise to slow down…”
“Are you implying I’m an irresponsible drinker? You don't even know me.”
Except he does. Or at least that is what you concluded when he kept intently eyeing you earlier. Now, you don't know anymore.
“I’m just saying it's easier to make bad decisions when inebriated. Trust me, I’ve made my fair share of drunken mistakes.”
You take note of the way he softens his tone, like he’s being mindful of his words and hoping not to offend. But the cocky lilt is still there, and it has you both irritated and incomprehensibly interested. A few feet away, Davis is watching from his spot at a table, probably assessing the man before you as per usual, though he makes no move to intervene so long as you are seemingly okay.
“What kind of mistakes?” you find yourself asking without thinking.
He looks at you for a moment, silent, before slowly swiveling in his seat to better angle himself in your direction. “Do you do this often?”
You huff as he ignores your question, crossing your arms defensively. “Do what?”
“Talk to strangers.” His eyes drop to your cleavage for a split second, but it’s not fast enough to escape your intoxicated senses. Even as he looks away with a hand running through his pushed back strands as if completely innocent.
Okay, maybe he didn't actually recognize you, because if he did he wouldn’t dare be so audacious in his approach… So does that mean his earlier staring was from actual interest? Why didn't he approach you, then? Why are men, as simple minded as most of them tend to be, so hard to read sometimes?
“Well, usually strangers are the ones talking to me first… Kinda like you did,” you retort with a smug smile.
He chuckles lowly, and you feel your stomach do a little backflip at the sound and sight. He looks a little too attractive for your own good.
“I guess I did, huh?” He quirks a playful eyebrow, then clicks his tongue. “But you could’ve ignored me. Your friends are still waiting for you, you know?”
You turn to see the girls at the table eyeing you with mischief, their giggling loud enough to reach you. You already know if you went back to them now they would endlessly tease you about getting cold feet, plus, you kind of do want to see where this is going.
Turning back around, you relax your posture slightly and give him a challenging look. “What if I don't want to stay with my friends? Are you gonna ask me to leave?”
His eyebrows shoot up in surprise, his lips etching into a smirk again, and he’s about to say something when he suddenly stops himself and closes his mouth. His expression then morphs into something less playful when he speaks again, his gaze is lowered towards his beer.
“No, I won't…”
Apparently, that is all your drunken self needed to hear before you’re plopping down on the stool beside his. “Well, good. Because I wanna sit here anyways.”
The man seems slightly taken aback, but he doesn’t show it fully. Once you’re settled, your elbow only an inch from touching his, he looks past your shoulder. His eyes land on the imposing man with his hands clasped over his crotch in the most stereotypical bodyguard stance there ever was. Ah, Morales, ever the subtle one.
You’re about to say something about the agents’ presence, maybe even offer an apology, when his voice drops to a husky whisper that has your gaze lingering on his lips.
“You know… That strap needs adjusting.” Holding his beer, he vaguely points at the piece of string resting on your upper arm—it seems to have slipped again. “You might have what they call a… ‘wardrobe malfunction.’”
You’re quiet for a moment as you take in the sheer audacity of this stupidly beautiful asshole. First he judges your drinking, and now your dress? He’s starting to sound more and more like your dad.
“Shouldn't you hope for that to happen to get a look?” you suddenly snap, before realizing what you just said.
Fuck, he better not know who you are now.
The blonde inhales sharply through his nose, like your words hit something inside. Then, with a look so intense his blue eyes look somehow even bluer, he murmurs in a quiet tone.
“Do you want me to get a look?”
That has your breath hitching, your throat running dry as you decide to be bold for once. “Maybe… Maybe if you ask for my number first…”
He doesn't move, doesn't breathe, he only eyes you intensely while your heart stutters wildly in your chest. Until, his gaze falters down to your mouth, before he instantly looks away just as quickly. Then, a low laugh bubbles in his throat and he shakes his head, setting down his bottle with a clink and reaching for his wallet.
You stare in utter confusion as he stands to place dollar bills on the counter without a word, before turning to you with a twitch of his lips.
“Happy birthday, Miss Graham.”
And just like that, he places his navy cap on his head, adjusting it with a firm grip as he walks away. Not even affording you another glance.
What the fuck?
He knew? He fucking knew the whole time? God, you should've listened to your intuition in the first place, now you just made yourself look like the most pathetic idiot ever! Shit, he’s probably gonna go around telling his friends how the first daughter is a hoe and how he rejected her miserably.
Watching him leave, your jaw clenches when you realize you have officially reached your lowest point yet, and it's all thanks to fruity cocktails and pretty blue eyes. You mentally add the humiliating interaction to the ever-growing pile of reasons you hate your father’s job, balling your fists in your lap in utter frustration. This is the worst birthday ever.
Next chapter.
super duper excited to write my first enemies to lovers, i hope you guys enjooooy, thank you for reading! 🤍🤍
Hi! I saw that you're taking requests so can I request for a Leon x reader fic where bioweapons never existed? Leon has his normal life as a cop while his friend, the reader, works as a forensic scientist. They spend their time at the cafe when they are not working. The reader thinks that Leon has a crush on the barista and starts getting jealous and quiet instead of confessing. And Leon confronts the reader about her attitude until a confession slips up. I'm craving for some fluff and angst.
Coffee Confessions
A/N: My first one shot! Tysm for the request and I hope it lives up well to what you were wanting to read!
C/W: Re2 cop Leon, reader is a Forensic Scientist, no zombie/bioweapon universe, reader and Leon are best friends, reader is jealous over someone else getting Leon’s attention, light angst, fluff, confession of feelings
W/C: 2.1k
Another endless day is over. Your brain is fried from looking down at your desk for an excruciatingly dangerous amount of time, running countless DNA profiles, studying and examining bodies, tools and other pieces of evidence for poisons, drugs and prints.
Your back aches, your neck feels stiff, your eyes burn from the strain of writing hundreds of reports. One case has particularly been getting on your nerves, taking up almost all of your free time and energy, and certainly making you feel as if you're losing your mind.
Your shoes pad through the city, splashing through the shallow puddles left over from the rain that had fallen an hour before, the sky dimming with the evening glow of the sun. You grab the strap of your bag and tighten it over your shoulder, letting out a long exhale as you reach the entrance of your favourite Cafe to wind down and sip the best coffee in town.
You briefly scan over the interior, studying each and every face before your eyes lock onto your best friend of many years leaning over the counter, his back broad, the tight muscles sticking through the thin fabric of his dark blue shirt, and he's speaking with...of course. The barista.
You roll your eyes, picking up your steps before joining the space beside him, clearing your throat to alert the two of them before the barista cocks her head with an eyebrow raised in your direction.
"Oh hey! Didn't realise you were off work already." Leon exclaims, pulling you into a warm hug with his arms enclosing around your waist, one hand flat against your lower back.
The contact makes your heart flutter, eyes closing from the immediate ease of your racing mind the moment you are in the company of Leon. It's like his superpower, you can always count on him to make you feel better without much effort on his behalf.
"Yeah well, the boss let me go early." You shrug your shoulders, nodding your head at the barista for your order. You come here so often, you won't be surprised the whole store knows your drink off by heart now.
As she begins making your coffee, you and Leon make your way to the same booth as always, tucked into the far corner of the Cafe next to the window, the perfect spot to watch people passing by.
You slide into the seat, placing your bag against the wall and leaning your head back against the seat with a grunt. "Rough day?" Leon questions with a sympathetic smile.
You simply hum in response, feeling both too exhausted to reply with words, and for some reason, a strange resentful burn settling within your stomach since spotting him with the barista again.
He's been speaking with her a lot more lately, and he seems to really enjoy her company. He always has a cheesy smile when they talk to each other, a sight you adore to see, just not with her.
It shouldn't bother you at all, he's obviously going to talk to people, he isn't dating you so why do you care? He's your friend, be happy for him.
Your train of thought is swiftly interrupted from a warm, slightly calloused hand that closes over yours on the table. Your eyes track down to Leon's thumb softly circling your wrist, your breath catches in your throat from such a simple, comforting gesture.
He's always done this, it's just who Leon is. He's always cared for you and comforted you. Get a grip, come on.
"You wanna talk about it?" his eyes land on yours. Your head shakes, pulling your hand down to your lap with unnecessary speed, causing Leon to awkwardly clear his throat and scratch the back of his head.
The barista walks over with 2 drinks on a black tray, she silently places them down on the table in front of you, giving Leon a brief wink of her eye before she walks away, a small smile growing on her face.
Your fists unintentionally clench in your lap, jaw tightening for a reason you can't really place.
You sip your drink in silence, your heart hammering against your chest, face and ears turning a shade of red, burning with...fury? Frustration? Maybe just tiredness, it's been a long ass day.
"You're unusually quiet today," Leon breaks the silence with his eyebrows lifted higher.
"Just tired, got this case fucking with my head." You return to your drink after your basic attempt at concealing the thoughts that should not be racing through your mind.
"Don't have to tell me twice, had to pull over some asshole today for speeding. And he tried to argue with me! As if I didn't physically watch this guy drive 50 in..." Leon rambles on about his day at work. You normally love hearing about the stuff he deals with as a cop.
Ever since he joined the RPD, he has absolutely loved sharing everything he does, telling you with so much enthusiasm about the difficult people he's been handling. And you love to hear about it, watching him live out his life-long dream to help others. And it does a great job in distracting you from your own shit at work.
There's just something different about him lately. He's obviously grown over the years, his arms have filled out impressively which has not gone unnoticed at all. Definitely gaining more and more muscle since joining the force.
His blonde hair draped over his stunningly blue eyes, acting as a curtain to cover the icy hue glistening with every smile. The way his touch lingers for a second longer, how his embraces never end until you pull away first.
You wonder whether his lips are as soft as they look, whether he's as gentle as he is with you when he's in bed. You bet that barista certainly gets to find out, the lucky b–
"(Y/N)?" Leon calls out, waving a hand in front of your face, you blink your eyes, staring anywhere but at his face.
Suddenly you begin worrying whether he can read minds, your mind specifically. Why the hell are you thinking that way about your best friend? You shouldn't care whether the barista is with him or not.
Oh but you do.
"Seriously, what's going on?"
"Nothing's going on, carry on with your uh..." You attempt to recall what he was speaking about, but you can't remember. Something about speeding?
"(Y/N). Talk to me, you're acting weird lately, weirder than normal, at least." Leon attempts to joke around.
"It's fine Leon, I'm fine, can we just go back to discussing our boring days?" You snap at him.
He recoils his head, taking the last sip of his drink before the barista returns to retrieve the empty glasses. You feel as if you want to sink into the depths of the earth, watching how she playful smiles at him and struts away.
Are you being punished right now? Sure feels like it.
Leon must notice the red shade painting over your face, your shallow breaths and closed off body language. "Is this about Emma?"
You choke on absolutely nothing, "Emma?" You ask in shock after coughing the remnants of your drink up, your fist punching against your chest to help clear your throat.
"Yeah, the barista...?"
"You're on a first name basis with her?" You furrow your brows, a growing sense of defensiveness taking over before you can even process why.
"Well we've been coming here for months, of course I know our barista's name." He shrugs lightly, not really seeing where this is coming from.
You hum with almost too much hostility. Letting a moment of silence pass before you awkwardly speak up again. "So...do you and Emma get along well?" You try to innocently interrogate him. Already cursing at yourself for saying something so blatant.
"Are you...jealous?" Leon tries to hide the small smile pulling on his lips.
"Why would I be jealous? I'm happy for you to have someone you enjoy speaking with so much, really!" You fail miserably at pretending to be joyous for him.
Just stop speaking, (Y/N).
"Why are you getting so defensive?"
You scoff at the assumption, despite the assumption being correct. Why does Leon have to read you so well?
Collecting your bag and jacket with the haste of someone who's just been caught red-handed committing a crime, you push yourself out of the booth and rush away. How do you explain that you're jealous over a barista dating your best friend? That you're getting argumentative and defensive over this?
"Wait– (Y/N)!" He calls out as you run-walk to the exit of the Cafe, not once slowing your steps when you reach the busy streets. The cold breeze acts as some sort of numbing agent.
"Let me speak, please?" Leon pleads, following after you as you continue walking away. You have never felt so embarrassed in your life.
"Do you ever wonder what I've been talking to Emma about all these months?" He proceeds.
A short, sarcastic laugh leaves your mouth, "You really think I'd wanna know all of that?"
"It's not what you think it is."
"Oh please, you don't need to sugarcoat it, you like her, you flirt with her and she flirts with you. Congratulations!" You throw your hands in the air.
Jesus (Y/N), stop now before this gets worse.
"It's never been about her, (Y/N)," Leon raises his voice just the slightest bit. "It's about you, it's always been about you."
You stop dead in your tracks, not turning your body to face him. Though he understands to continue speaking from your silence.
"She's been helping me work through my feelings."
"Leon Kennedy speaking about his feelings? Am I dreaming?" You taunt, finally spinning on your heel to look up at a version of Leon so vulnerable. His eyes drooping as he gazes down at you, chest panting from catching up with your pace and all the attempts to speak to you.
His shoulders drop in defeat, a hand lifting to his face as he drags a long inhale through his nose. "You're making this more difficult," He mumbles.
"Just spit it out Leon." You fold your arms over your chest, leaning your weight onto one foot, an eyebrow raised higher.
"I like you, okay? More than normal, more than friends going for coffee after work, more than college buddies." His voice cuts through the bustle of the city, stern yet shaky with emotion. His words lowering towards the end of the sentence as if he's revealed some super secret information, or as if he's embarrassed too.
Perhaps he feels like a high school kid confessing his feelings to his first crush, just as you feel but as a jealous teenager. That's something about the two of you, you've always brought out the other's inner child.
He takes a step closer, enough so that you can feel the warmth radiating from his chest, his breath fanning over your face with every exhale. "I want more than that, more than this." He gestures towards the Cafe and between you both.
You open your mouth with the intention to speak, but your words falter pathetically as they come out. "I..." You begin, "I want that too."
If you could visibly see what it looks like to witness a heavy weight lifting off one's shoulders, it would be what's happening right now. Leon's face relaxes into a sheepish smile, his shoulders easing the tension that was withholding his muscles. His hands unclench from the fists by his sides.
"Why did this have to be so much harder than it was meant to be?" He chuckles out, closing his eyes in disbelief from the drama that had just taken place.
"What does this mean now? Do we just carry on doing what we normally do?" You question, feeling an awkward fog taking over the space between you as you suddenly feel like you're standing before someone new for the first time.
"I mean, I guess so," Leon shrugs, "just...more than that?" He winces his face as he fails to gather words that completely make sense.
"We'll just figure it out as we go along." He adds, gently taking your hand in his with the familiar touch of his warm hand. "But first,"
You lift your gaze once again to meet his. "I'm taking you on a real date, not for coffee, and not to discuss our work."
You let out a short laugh, more like a sigh of relief as you let him lead you further down into the city beside you. Maybe this won't be too bad, you've known him for years, you know everything about each other already. Realistically, you were basically a couple before all of this, just without...yeah, nevermind. This is perfect.
Tysm for reading! I really hope it was okay, my requests are still open and i’m currently working through them now!
If you’d like to be in the taglist or to be removed, leave a comment or DM me!
"All done." You wiped the excess sunscreen off your hands and looked over Hiromi's back, ensuring that you'd left no white streaks behind. "Ready to go?"
"Just a moment," He replied, stepping aside, presumably to fetch the keys. You rocked back and forth on your feet, already feeling giddy. After all, you had finally succeeded in getting your boyfriend to take a day off. Not only that, but actually planned a beach trip for the day. So for once, as a reward for all his hard work, he would actually spend the day on golden sands and in blue waves, rather than on the couch.
You had even convinced him to get new swim trunks for the occasion, ones which he had no matching rash guard from late high-school to pair with. You turned when you heard him make his way back to the doorway, adjusting your tote on your shoulder and pausing as you looked at him. The sunglasses were definitely a rare sight on him, but it was certainly better than frying his retinas out in the sun. And it wasn't the sandals that made you stop and stare either. But rather the t-shirt he'd put on. Right over all the sunscreen you'd applied (and his toned chest). "Hiromi?"
"Hm?" He was already turning the door, keys in hand.
"What are you wearing?"
His brows raised up. "A shirt?" With his free hand, he tugged at the hem, glancing down. "After I just put sunscreen all over you." You perched your sunglasses atop your head, looking at him just short of exasperated. "Are you just wearing it to drive? Or..."
"Well, that was in case." He looked at you, a but awkward. "You just...planned on wearing a shirt anyway? What if you want to swim?" "You can swim with a shirt on." He shrugged as he stepped out, holding the door as you exited right after.
Now, you weren't mad. That would be unreasonable. You were, however, bewildered. It was the natural course of a relationship to discover more things about your partner. You supposed it was fortunate that all you discovered was his apparent fondness for remaining mostly clothed.
You kept up pleasant chit-chat during the car ride there, and as you walked from where you'd parked to find a good spot to spread the blanket. All the while, though, you couldn't help but glare at that shirt. The navy hue seemed to look back at you, condescending as can be.
It wasn't ridiculous, though, not at first. You laid on the blanket, reading your book at a leisurely pace, enjoying the bright sun, summer warmth, and the sound of crashing waves. At your side, Hiromi simply watched as water flowed in a constant rhythm, and gulls flew through the air. At the very least, he seemed truly at peace, which was a first in your relationship. Ordinarily he was rushing around, hurrying to get to his office, or a courtroom. Rushing to meet with his clients, rushing to gulp down a convenience store coffee, rushing, rushing rushing. You savored the sight of him so still. You just thought you'd be savoring it a little more without all that fabric in the way. "I'm gonna go down to the water for a little while." You declared, shutting your book with a thud and stretching your arms slowly. "Are you staying here?"
"I should watch your bag." He replied simply, glancing around at the fairly full beach, as children ran around and people strolled the shore. "Maybe a little later."
You felt deflated, even as you rose and walked down towards the crashing waves, pretending you did not mind. You knew he worked through tiring weeks, and the beach was a chance for a little rest and relaxation, so he might leave feeling replenished. You just...didn't think that would involve him sitting and simply watching. A glance back and you caught his eyes on you, making you smile despite yourself.
The water was cool, a welcome break from the warmth of the day. You waded through until you were deep enough to float and and gladly embraced the gentle flow of water. And for a little while you enjoyed the melody of flowing water, crashing waves. You swam, let yourself rise and fall and be pushed by the water. You waded in the shallow span of water close to shore, catching the rays of warm sun. You strolled along the sand, occasionally gathering a shell or two bearing a unique pattern or color. And briefly, turning the little shells over in your hand, you sat on damp sand and looked out over the water. But a time came when there was an afternoon lull, and crowds had thinned out. And you realized you had spent most of your time alone.Back upon the sand you saw that Hiromi had picked up his book and engrossed himself in reading. You joined him on the blanket and turned towards him.
"You know, if you didn't want to go, you didn't have to."His brows knit together as he looked up at you. "What do you mean?"
"You've been up here the whole time, reading, keeping your shirt on. Staying as far from the water as possible." You paused. "I hate to think I dragged you out here on your day off if you'd rather...you know, be at home."
And suddenly he looked almost stunned. "I'm enjoying myself." He spoke. "And you're here with me. And I've gotten sick of spending every weekend and spare minute cooped up indoors."
"But you haven't even gone swimming." He glanced around. "Maybe later." It was your turn to look surprised. "Later? The water's fine, Hiromi."
"I know it is. But it's so...crowded." You glanced around the beach, noting the mosaic of spread blankets, chairs, umbrellas and shades, all occupied by their own groups. And the water, full of people clad in brightly colored swimwear. Then your eyes made their way back to him, wearing the black swim trunks and loose navy blue shirt.
"You didn't want to swim because of the crowds?"
He leaned back on one hand, his eyes on his lap. "It feels a little...awkward."
You couldn't help but snicker. "I think you're one of the only people I know who thinks it's awkward to be seen swimming at the beach on a beautiful day."
"Maybe." He said plainly.
"Come on." Standing above him, you extended your hand. "We're going swimming."
Before he could utter a single word in protest, you reached down and wrapped your hand around his wrist with a gentle, yet firm grip. It took a small tug to draw him up and off the towel, even as he muttered worries about your belongings or the amount of sand sprinkled over everything. It wasn't until your feet met wet sand again that he finally spoke. "Don't you think it seems immature, being an adult man and messing around in the ocean?"
"I think it's immature to think that." You decided as a cool wave lapped at your ankles, and sand shifted below the soles of your feet. "You already spend every day being a super professional, very serious guy, after all. What's so childish about having fun?"
Something in him relaxed, bringing a smile to your face. And as you bent forward just enough to feel the current, your entire side was splashed with cold saltwater. Hiromi chuckled, now half soaked himself from smacking the water's surface with his arm, and looking entirely too satisfied with himself for having done so.
But soon, you retaliated, prompting him to do the same. And you both became fixated on your game of utterly drenching each other. The stretch of the beach filed with sounds of sloshing, splashing, and your joint yelps and screeches as it went on. Certainly half the good people trying to lounge and catch up on tanning were all staring on in disapproval from the ruckus. The thought would arrive later, when you had washed the day off and were back at home. But for that glorious little moment, lasting no more than an hour, you were both happy, and nothing else. There were no thoughts of offices or courtrooms. No troubles from the workplace bleeding into your minds. And even the navy shirt that was now waterlogged from ocean waves couldn't bother you.
And later in your bedroom, as you dried off freshly conditioned hair and rubbed lotion into sunkissed skin, he bent down and pressed a kiss to your forehead. "Thank you for today."
So i got struck by the lightning, and by lightning i meant a dirty thought obviously that involved our dear lord and savior resident daddy Leon Kennedy.
I thought about reader (Leon's GF) being frustrated at him after an argument or something that went wrong which resulted in him getting the silent treatment.
So instead reader threw herself into work and anything else to distract her from her emotions and avoid the inevitable argument, only for Leon to obviously try and stop her from doing such thing when he noticed how bad it had affected her,
But obviously pettiness being one of her greatest trait, she gave him the cold shoulder and went out alone, on a shopping spree to murder his bank account as a punishment (which let's be real, it'll barely make a dent in his savings and she's not even the type to splurge usually),
But yeah, she bought some things, for herself and for him too and when i said for him i meant smth naughty for her to wear for him and an actual gloves or watch for him, overpriced but it's the thought that counts.
And anyways long story short, she felt bad, they talked and then boom, filthy smut cause he wanted her to put on a show to show off what she had bought with his money, wink wink, especially the lingerie in his favorite shade of blue, nasty nasty smashing, some mirror scene and maybe, maybe even involving his phone's camera cause he just thought that you looked so good that he needed to take a picture so it'll last longer, (and maybe even a video too COUGHHH COUGH)
*Claps my hand*
ANYWAYS, i am sooo sorry if this was unnecessary long but this idea was simmering in my head and burning a hole through my brain, almost had to bite down on my fist as i pictures the scene perfectly, i just needed to get this out of my system cause honestly Leon is making me feel really insane right now, and i hope you're doing as amazing as your work out there!;> Sending Love🫶🏻
- 🐝
a/n; I will forever love some good post-make-up sex!!! and some lingerie show-offs, ooooh!😩 this is beautiful, thank you for requesting!! I hope I did the idea justice 🙏🏻
sum; after a petty fight over work and the apartment, you find yourself avoiding leon and trying to get a reaction out of him with a splurge with his money, the night ending with a much better reaction than you'd thought
content; vague reference to an argument, lingerie, unprotected sex, creampies, overstimulation, photos/recording, mirror sex, multiple positions
wc; 4.3k
"You're not going to talk to me?" Leon's voice cut through the thick silence of the kitchen. It was hardly past eight in the morning, just after breakfast, and you two had already fought. Something about his work, an upcoming mission, and something about your shared apartment becoming too cramped or how you didn't like living in an apartment building, despite the building being much, much nicer than the average.
You didn't respond. You continued washing the dishes, scrubbing at a stubborn patch of dried sauce from the other night's dinner. You didn't feel like continuing the argument, nor did you feel like making it worse with any further outbursts. Leon sighed.
"Fine. I'll see you after work." He stepped behind you, moving to give his usual cheek kiss, but you pulled away and gave him a stern look. He stared. "Fine." He repeated with a furrow in his brows, stepping away and turning on his heel to retrieve his bag from the hook by the front door. "I love you!" He called out as he stepped out the door. No response. He closed the door and groaned, forehead hitting against the doorframe.
Not much longer after he left, you found yourself thrown into work. You worked from home sometimes, and today was one of those days. You worked from about 9:00 a.m. to 2:30 p.m., a shorter but still productive day. When Leon could, he'd come home for lunch, and that's exactly what he did today.
When you emerged from your shared at home office, you paused when you saw Leon rummaging through the fridge. You inhaled sharply, only to turn when he straightened up and saw you. You walked off, finding your way to the bedroom to occupy yourself with laundry and changing the bed sheets. Leon sighed, following behind you. Thank God he had a decent lunch break.
"Sweetheart, please," he stopped you before you could carry the hamper into the hall, hands on your shoulders. "Can't we have lunch? I was going to warm our takeout leftovers from last night." He urged. "And it's not even laundry day." He added, head tilting. You had a schedule for everything—when to mop, when to do laundry, when to wash your hair, etc.—so the derailing of that schedule stuck out to Leon.
You stared at him. You stepped back and maneuvered around him, interrupting your schedule for the sake of staying busy. You heard him groan, his footsteps catching up quickly.
"I know you're mad, but please, don't work yourself into the ground. You said today was supposed to be a half day for work, and you were going to relax. You deserve to relax. Please." He insisted, but it felt like talking into a void. You didn't even look at him.
You piled the laundry into the washing machine, pouring in detergent and turning the knobs for the proper settings before you started it and went down the hall back to the living room. You grabbed your purse and keys, slipping on a pair of sneakers.
"Where are you going?" He sounded exasperated. He may be upset, annoyed, but he still needed to make sure you weren't going to go put yourself in danger just because you're mad at him.
"Shopping."
The first word since 8 a.m., so he took it. He sighed heavily. "Fine. Just.. be back by dinner, please? I'll have it ready tonight." He tried to sneak in a kiss, but you were already slipping out of his reach and out of the apartment.
God, he felt like a complete and utter idiot.
And so did you. On your way to shopping at various stores, you began to realize how silly you were being. Your frustration was valid, but the actions of the day were clearly wearing on Leon, and that made you feel bad. You pulled into the parking lot of the mall, checking your wallet and finding his card tucked into the leather, right next to the Polaroid you kept of you two on your first date. You frowned.
In the mall, you found yourself buying silly crap just to spend some money and possibly get on his nerves a little. You'd realize later that splurging did nothing to his financial situation, but that was a later problem. You bought a new necklace, some new clothes, and on your way out, you passed two stores opposite of each other. Victoria's Secret, and right across, sat a store with all kinds of things that Leon could use. Some better tactical gloves, a new watch since he had his old one absolutely destroyed by some creature, and even some different kinds of holsters.
You stopped into the lingerie store first, buying a new baby doll gown, two matching sets, a few lace bras with front clips, and a new perfume. Swiping the card was both exhilarating and guilt amplifying. You knew he'd get the notification on his phone with it being such an expensive purchase. To top it off and end off on a less guilty note, you found your way into the store across, peeking at the watches. One of the employees, a sweet younger lady, happily helped you pick out some heavy-duty gloves and a new watch that had an option for a regular clock or a digital clock—something new for him to figure out.
You arrived him just after your usual dinnertime, having taken time to regroup your thoughts in the car while also having stopped for a small ice cream cone. You walked into the door, and Leon peeked out from the kitchen, drying his hands. He stared at your abundance of shopping bags, but he didn't look angry—if anything, he seemed a little relieved.
"Dinners ready. Made your favorite. I went out and got you some cheesecake for dessert, if you want it." Leon spoke, setting the hand towel on the counter before he came to help you with your bags. He took the first two and paused when he saw the Victoria's Secret bag, but he cleared his throat and looked away.
"Don't get too excited. I'm still not happy." You mumbled, pulling the bag out of his view so he couldn't peek in. He chuckled. You followed him and the two of you dropped the bags in the bedroom and came back to the dinner table for food.
It was quiet for a while, but when Leon finished his dinner first, like usual, he stood up and found his way to the sink to begin washing the dishes for the night. You watched him. "How was shopping? Find anything cute?"
"Few things." You mumbled.
"Like?" He asked, acting like nothing had happened this morning.
The prodding of what you had bought only made you feel worse, a small whine leaving your throat as you looked down at your food. "Nothing that made me feel better." You exhaled.
Leon turned the faucet off, turning to you as he dried his hands and leaned back on the counter. "Are you ready to talk?" He asked, careful in his tone and message.
"I'm sorry." You dropped your face into your palms, groaning at yourself as you rubbed your face, like you were trying to wash away your frustrations. "I was mad. I was angry at you for how you talked to me this morning, about your job and the apartment, and I wanted a reaction, and I was being dumb." You spat finally. When you lifted your head, Leon was crouched next to your chair, turning you to face him.
"A splurge isn't gonna make me angry, or want to lecture you and make a big issue." He said, hands resting gently on your knees. "I know I was an ass this morning." He admitted, watching you slowly straighten up from your guilty slouch. "I shouldn't have been so dismissive toward you and your frustrations. It was stupid of me to get so whiney about simple needs and adjustments that you wanted to talk about."
"Yeah." You grumbled, looking down at your lap as you fidgeted with your nails. "I'm sorry, too." You mumbled. "I shouldn't have been so mean. I should've told you why I was mad when you came for lunch. I'm.. I should've tried a little harder to make you understand rather than keep arguing."
It was quiet for a moment until he rose to his full height again, bending forward to kiss you softly. Finally, you accepted it, happily meeting in the middle. He pulled back and brushed his thumb over your brow bone and smoothed your hair down.
"You still eating?" He asked. You nodded. "Finish up. I'll run a bath. It's been a while since we had a bath, and I think this calls for it."
"Not yet. I still have to try stuff on before I wrap up the night." You turned back to your food, taking another bite.
Leon's soft expression turned mischievous, his lower lip tucked between his teeth. "Would it be too hopeful if I asked for a little haul?" He asked, voice pitched just a touch higher than normal.
"Finish the dishes, and I'll consider it." You said through a mouthful of food.
"Mmh, yes ma'am." He gave a quick snap of his fingers and those clumsy finger guns before he turned and went back to the sink to finish up.
After finishing your food, you rinsed the plate and handed it to him for him to scrub and rinse clean. You stepped back and stared at him—gaze dropping down, only to rise, and repeat a few times until he turned around and you did it exactly the same way again. "Yeah. Yeah. You're lucky you're hot." You mumbled, walking off to make your way down the hall to the bedroom.
"Wha—hey! What's that mean?!" He laughed, rushing to follow you. He found you rummaging through the bags to find your lingerie bag. He came up behind you to get his hands on you, only for you to slip away and swat his hands.
"Uh-uh. Haul time, not touch time." You huffed. "And look in that blue bag. I got you some stuff. Well, you paid, I got it, so it's more the thought that counts." You said, pointing over to the bag that had his new gloves and watch. Leon snickered and sat on the bed as he took the items out while you disappeared into the bathroom and changed. He took out the watch first, opening the box and gasping slightly.
"Damn! How much was this? Thing looks futuristic." He scoffed with astonishment, already moving to slip it onto his wrist. He pressed a button and watched the digital square light up, the background still blank with a regular analog clock. He adjusted the watch band and took out the gloves next, trying them on and humming.
"You like 'em?" You called out from behind the cracked bathroom door. Before he could respond, you stepped out in a white, fluff-hemmed baby doll lingerie piece with pretty lace panties to match. You leaned against the doorway, doing a little shimmy to show the way it flowed just below your hips.
He looked up, eyes wide. "Oh, I like. I like a lot." He stood up, only for you to stop him.
"Uh-uh. I have options. Sit back down."
"Oh, fuck, seriously?" He groaned. "You're killin' me, sweetheart." He pouted, sitting back down. You giggled and returned to the bathroom, changing into the red set that you found. You stepped back out and did a spin, watching his eyes flick up and down. "Red looks nice on you."
"You'll like the other set better." You grinned.
"Ooh, c'mon, you might kill me before I even get to see it."
"Suck it up and be patient." You said, stepping back into the bathroom to change into the dark blue set. The lace was decorated with small, intricate flowers, the trim of the cups threaded with a white ribbon that led straight down the middle and met at the bottom of the valley between your breasts in a cute little bow. The panties had the same thing. When you stepped out, Leon didn't have the boldness to make a snide comment or be flirty, he just sat there and stared, admiration in his eyes as he traced your body up and down.
"You're not even gonna tell me I look pretty?" You feigned offense, a pout forming over your lips. He stumbled over his own feet and met you halfway, taking you by the hips.
"You leave me speechless." He mumbled, leaning in for a deep kiss. He cupped your cheek to tilt your head, encouraging you to let yourself melt into it.
His other hand slid down from your hip, slipping behind to grope your butt and pull you in closer, his pelvis meeting yours as he backed you up against a wall, right next to your tall mirror that you used to get ready. He pulled his head back and peeked over to the side, glancing at you and then the mirror. He looked back at you, down at the lingerie. He tugged you forward and spun you around, making you squeak as he put you in front of the mirror, your hands pushed out to keep your body from being fully against the mirror.
"God, look at how fucking beautiful you are." He purred, moving to kiss along your shoulders and nape, a low groan leaving him as he felt you press back against him, reaching one hand back to grab his wrist and guide his hand back to your hip.
"Lee," you breathed, head falling forward against the mirror.
"Keep your head up. Look at yourself." He mumbled, nipping at your nape and eliciting a light squeak. You lifted your head and looked at him through the mirror. "Eyes on you, not me." He reminded gently.
"Asshole." You huffed.
"Mmh, I know, but you love me." He grinned. With you focused on yourself instead of him, he slipped his hands down, one hand stopping while the other slid down to press your thighs apart and find its home over the gusset of your panties. He ground his palm against your clit, letting you buck your hips in response. He gave a sound similar to approval when your thighs squeezed around his hand. He swatted your thigh gently with his free hand, making you open up once more with a reluctant whine.
He slid the gusset of the panties to the side, middle finger slowly circling your clit in tight, firm motions. You shivered, lips parting in a breathy, shaky sigh of relief. "Oh, fuck." You hissed lightly as his fingers slid down, thumb replacing the stimulation on your clit as he eased two fingers down to your dripping entrance, circling it and spreading your wetness along your pussy lips. He continued teasing your hole, crcling your clit, until you bucked impatiently, one hand reaching to grab his wrist.
"Keep teasing and I might fuck myself in front of you and blue ball you all night." You scowled, but there was no real heat or anger, just desperation and need.
He snickered, head tilting down to kiss your shoulder. "Mmh, I know," he purred. "I just wanted to get you a little warmed up."
With that, he pulled back and tugged his belt undone, pushing them down with his boxers to shimmy them down and kick them aside before he pressed his chest to your back. You nudged him. "Shirt off. The fabric is annoying." You grumbled. He chuckled, tugging he shirt over his head and tossing it aside before reassuming his position.
He took his cock into his hand, stroking it a couple of times before he lined up with your wetness. He nudged your thighs further apart and tugged your hips back, one hand sliding up your waist and to your front to help you straighten up to look at yourself properly. As you straightened your back and stood before the reflection, Leon pushed forward, and your head fell back, thighs quivering as you clutched onto his wrist and forearm for support.
"'ve got you," he soothed, low and smooth in your ear as he lifted you slightly, your toes barely touching the ground as he held you up by your hips and waist, letting your body adjust slightly before he pulled his hips back and pushed forward, making you squeak and curl up slightly. He used his head to nudge yours upright, making you look at yourself as he suspended you in the air with pure strength and stamina, cock pumping back and forth inside of you.
"Oh, my god," you mewled, thighs quivering and closing tight as your feet hung helplessly, toes curling.
"Fuck," he grunted. Your back arched, bottom pressing against his pelvis as he thrusted back and forth, the rhythm hardly there as his cock penetrated your pussy in fast, shallow thrusts, the tip of his cock just meeting your cervix. You cried out, feet kicking back at his shins and desperately searching for something to stabilize yourself on. He tugged you higher, making you squeak. One of his strong arms held you at the spot just below your ribcage, while the other hand held your hip and let his hand wander down between your thighs, two fingers finding your clit to pinch and massage the little nub. Your head fell back against him, eyes rolling back. He watched it all through the mirror—your body rippling with the intensity of his thrusts, your thighs quivering and feet dangling and kicking, your head fallen back as your mouth hung open with loud, incoherent words of desperation left your lips.
"Oh, fuck, shhh—shit, Leon!" You gasped, body tensing as you felt your climax approach rapidly.
"C'mon, don't be shy. Watch yourself while you cum on my cock." He practically growled, lowering you just enough to let you stand on your own. He kept one arm around you, hand still torturing your sensitive clit while the other hand slid upward and came to grab your face, forcing you to look at the mirror and keep your focus there. Your brows knitted together, eyes darting back and forth between watching him fondle and play with you and watching your face like he had demanded. You cried, lips quivering as his fingers dug into your chin, making it harder for you to look away.
"God, Lee, 'm gonna cum—fuck!" You squealed, gasping for air as you felt all the tension reach a peak, lingering there for a long moment—your muscles all pulled taut, eyes rolling back—until finally, it snapped, falling apart in his arms as he followed suit almost immediately. While you pulsed around his girth, gushing warmth and coating the base of his cock in a thick, white ring, he followed suit and let himself go, cum pumping almost dramatically into your twitchy cunt. You shivered, completely limp against him.
While you were dazed and distracted, Leon took the chance to reach for his phone on your vanity, clicking the camera open and holding it up. You barely processed it when you heard the click, the sound making you lift your head and glare at him.
"Seriously?" You whined.
"You look so good in my favorite color." He purred, kissing along your shoulder and neck.
Leon slowly retracted his hips, gentle as he lifted you and carried you back to the bed, laying you down and crawling atop of you, hips slotting between your open legs. He held his phone out to you. "Mmh?" You looked up at him, brows knit in confusion.
"Hold it for a second." He muttered, shifting to pull your hips closer as he leaned down and kissed your breasts over the lace of the lingerie. You held his phone lazily, glancing at the dark screen before he kissed his way down and tugged the panties aside again, watching the mess begin to slowly seep out. He reached and took the phone back and navigated his way to the camera, quickly pressing record as he used two fingers to gently spread your folds and let the cum become more visible on camera. Before you could scold him or tell him how nasty he was, he plunged the same two fingers into you, using the pads of his fingertips to drag out the cum and make you whine as he pressed the phone camera closer.
"I barely forgive you and you're already taking the chance to record me like this?" You squirmed as he pulled his fingers out fully and rose to his knees, slotting in closer to press his already hard cock against your thigh, the phone held higher as his free hand came down to grasp his length lining it back up with your already sensitive cunt. You mewled softly as the tip nudged in, making your thighs close around him. He breathed a soft moan as he put the camera lower and adjusted the angle to properly show how your pussy engulfed him and practically swallowed his cock as he eased forward.
"Lee—mmh!" You mewled, thighs shaking and squeezing around him as he bottomed out and ground his hips lazily into you. He keeps himself upright, dragging back and forth slowly, the camera zeroed in on the slick mess you're leaving on his girth, the way your pussy is stretched over him, twitchy and tight. He pulls out all the way to the tip, only to push back in and make your body squeeze up, back arching.
"Fuck, you're so pretty. So perfect." He breathed, camera adjusting to capture your chest as he took his other hand and palmed your breast. He tugged the lace of the bra down, letting it lay beneath the fat of your breast before his rough palm came to grope and squeeze at the mound. You groaned, pushing your chest against his palm as you reached down to lazily press against his lower abdomen, whimpering faintly at his thrusts growing in intensity.
"Lee—Leon, oh!" You gasped in response to his fingers pinching and rolling your pebbled nipple between his thumb and forefinger. "Fuck," you shivered, head rolling to the side.
"C'mon," he hissed. "I know you're close already," he purred, panting as he raised the camera higher and captured the entirety of the scene before him, all but your face since you kept hiding it when the camera would twitch too high. He didn't want to push his luck any more than he already was.
He moved his hand off your tit, pulling the lace back up to sit comfortably before his previously busy hand came down, thumb finding your clit to rub along the nub with firm, tight circles. You jolted, another gasp being pulled from you. He continued, your nails clawing into his forearm as you twitched and shook beneath him, nerves overwhelmed and overworked. Leon really did love how sensitive you were.
"Yknow, maybe we should try going another round after this." He grinned, glancing up at you to find your face half-buried into your pillow, a wet spot beginning to pool where your mouth was due to the fact you couldn't shut your mouth, hair mussed and probably getting knotted from all your squirming.
"F-fuck yo—oooh!" You cried out, legs clamping around him and pulling him in closer. You bit onto the pillow the best you could, hips squirming against and away from him at the same time. And before you could warn him, the knot finally snapped in your lower belly, a loud sob of pleasure leaving your throat.
"Shh, shh," he tossed the phone aside, letting the camera be forgotten as he worked you through it, cooing sweet praise and soft reassurance as he chased his own high. He wasn't far behind, but he needed to put in a little more effort and focus now that he had you satisfied. In your dazed state, you slapped around for his phone and found it, grabbing it with trembling hands and holding it up to record him.
"Hah—how do you l-like it?" You stammered, watching his nose scrunch both from your sass and his approaching climax. Only a few thrusts later, and he was throwing his head back, lips parted in heavy groans melting into shaky moans as his cum spilled, balls twitching and emptying into you. You shivered, dropping the phone next to you as he leaned above you and met you for a slow, passionate kiss.
It was sloppy, but full. Full of love, satisfaction, and tenderness in its own way. Leon slowly pulled out, sighing against your lips. "I've got such a sexy wife." He huffed, making you smack his chest.
"Shut up." You breathed, slowly moving to sit upright. Leon helped you, fixing your panties and pushing your hair out of the way. You leaned forward against him. He chuckled, moving to lift you into his lap.
"You're amazing." He murmured, hands soothing up and down your sides and back. "I love you." He mused, squeezing tighter around yous waist.
"I love you." You murmured back, kissing his collarbone before you caught a glimpse of the phone. "It's still recording."
"Mmh, maybe it's a sign." He grinned, head diving to kiss and nip at your neck. You were quick to swat his shoulder and dive off to the side, shaky but firm as you stood from the bed.
"Not a chance." You said with a huff, legs already shaking as you bent at the hips to hold onto the bedside table for stability. He laughed, pressing the button to stop the recording as he moved to stand with you.
"I'm just teasing. C'mon, we can wash off and then soak in the bath. And if you want, we can talk more about the apartment situation." He pressed an apologetic kiss to your temple, helping you toward the bathroom.
"That... that would be nice." You murmured, nodding.
CONTEXT: Y/N spent her entire life trying to escape her father's shadow. A prodigy civil engineer, she wanted nothing to do with his work—until his involvement in illegal bioweapon experiments was exposed after his death. Accused of crimes she never committed and imprisoned as a high-risk threat, Y/N escapes custody to find her missing brother and uncover the truth. Now one of the country's most wanted fugitives, she is being hunted by Leon S. Kennedy, the agent assigned to bring her in. As dangerous secrets surrounding her family begin to surface, the line between hunter and fugitive starts to blur. With trust becoming increasingly difficult, and increasingly impossible to ignore, Y/N and Leon may discover that the truth isn't the only thing drawing them together.
GENERAL WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI. Explicit/implied sexual content, canon-typical violence and gore, character death, injury, angst, strong language. Dirty talk, dry humping, cunnilingus, fingering, piv, unprotected sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, cum eating, manhandling, age gap. Fighting, trauma, experiments, average day in RE universe, Reader insert (she/her, fem-coded), afab. CivilEngineer!Reader.
AUTHOR’S NOTES: Hi everyone, i have to say this is one of my favorite fics that i have written, its not finished yet but its getting there should be 100k words plus by the time its finished, im obsessed with this fanfic i should release new chapters soon but until then, its slowburn like most of my stories but its all worth it, enemies to lovers best trope anyway i hope you enjoy as always if you do enjoy it like, reblog and comment! My asks are always open if you wanna talk about leon, Re the fanfic or anything random i dont mind thank you and ENJOYYY!!!
Pairing: Streamer re2r Leon x f!mod!reader ft. Ada Wong
Words: 6246 words
Warnings: none!
Plot: Leon Kennedy is a rising Twitch streamer known for his chaotic gameplay and kind personality. Ever since his first stream, you’ve been by his side as his moderator, staying up late to help with events, fix technical issues, and keep chat under control. Somewhere between endless Discord calls and “goodnight” messages sent at three in the morning, the line between friendship and something more became impossible to ignore, except neither of you ever dared to cross it. When the mysterious and wildly popular streamer Ada starts collaborating with Leon, the internet is quick to ship them together, leaving you convinced you’ve already lost before you ever had a chance. But after noticing you slowly pulling away, Leon decides to stop hiding behind a screen and finally tell you the one thing he’s been too nervous to say all along.
A/N: I’ve had this on my drafts for so long 😭 I’m so happy I finally got to write it 🥹 hope you guys enjoy it 🫶🏻🫶🏻
Taglist: let me know if you want to be added!
Resident Evil's Masterlist.
"You'll do well, Leon." You reassured him. His mic crackled to life when he let out a quiet sigh. "You'll be in chat, right?" He muttered. You flashed a small smile as if he could see you. "Always." Judging by the soft sound of his laughter sneaking into the call, you guessed that was enough to make him relax. "You're the best." He said before hanging up the call and unmuting himself on the stream.
Leon has been streaming for about a year now. At first, he would stream just for fun, to show his friends a new game he discovered, or just to show them a new restaurant he tried out. That was it until you appeared on the chat as his first official viewer, whom he didn't personally know. It all started as an innocent streamer-viewer relationship, but as time went by and he started to get more and more viewers and less idea of how Twitch worked, you offered yourself to help him. Until today, making you his most trusted moderator. Before important events, you would spend hours planning things together on Discord calls, you wouldn't miss a single stream, and if you had to, he would even reschedule the stream so you could be there. Chat said it was because he was in love with you, and you both said it was because Leon felt more confident if you were around.
Then, the ship's comments on the chat became more and more common. It all started on a just chatting stream. Leon somehow managed to screw up the tags of the stream after he tried to fix a scene. "Chat, where's Y/N?" He asked, clearly panicking. Some viewers started tagging you immediately, some others... noticed things neither of you seemed to notice. "Oh, there she is," He said, relieved when he saw you joining the stream 5 minutes later. "Come to Discord, I need your help," he shyly added, rubbing the back of his neck.
"DISCORD???"
"HE ALWAYS LOOKS FOR HER EVEN IF THERE ARE OTHER MODS."
"*PEEPOLOVE*".
"I don't know what I touched," Leon said nervously. You couldn't hide the chuckle escaping your lips as you tried to find the problem and fix it. "Is it working now?" Leon asked, his eyes finally landing on the chat again. "What would you do without me?" You joked. "Probably retire." He replied. The moment those words left Leon's mouth, the chat exploded. At first, it was only a couple of teasing messages buried beneath the rest.
"That's not very cowoker of you."
"Just confess already."
"So... when are you making it official?"
Leon frowned ever so slightly, leaning a little closer to his monitor as if reading the messages again would somehow make them different. A nervous laugh escaped him before he quickly shook his head. "You guys are unbelievable," he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck again. "We're not dating." The denial should have been enough, but instead it only encouraged them.
"Not dating yet."
"Bro answered too fast."
"Then why do you always wait for Y/N before starting?"
"You literally rescheduled a stream last week because Y/N couldn't be here."
"He's never beating the allegations."
You stared at your monitor in complete silence after leaving the Discord call with Leon, your hands frozen above your keyboard. Every new message made the warmth crawling up your neck spread a little further across your face. You couldn't understand why it embarrassed you so much. It wasn't like the chat knew anything. They were only joking, just like they've been doing for the past few months. Right?
Leon let out another awkward laugh, one that sounded far less convincing than the last one. "I would've done that for any of my mods," he insisted. Almost immediately, someone clipped the sentence.
"Liar."
"Claire couldn't be here 2 weeks ago and you didn't rescheduled."
"You literally looked for Y/N the second she was five minutes late."
"Bro folded in under thirty seconds."
"Guys I looked for Y/N because we had technical issues," Leon tried to defend himself, but it didn't wash.
"I was here all along." Claire typed, followed by a clown sticker. His lips parted, ready to defend himself again, but nothing came out. Because none of them were entirely wrong.
Whenever something broke, you were the first person he looked for. Whenever he had an idea for the channel, you were the first person he told. Whenever he doubted himself before the stream, you were always the one waiting for him in Discord, reminding him that everything would be fine. None of it had felt strange. Not until hundreds of strangers pointed it out all at once.
You looked away from your screen for a second, pressing the back of your hand against your burning cheek before typing the only thing you could think of.
"I'm literally just his moderator." The message stayed pinned on the screen for barely two seconds before it was drowned beneath dozens of replies.
"Sure Y/N."
"We believe you 💀."
POLL: Is Leon in love with Y/N?
YES
YES
Poll created by ClaireRedfield98.
You buried your face in your hands with a groan, wishing the floor would simply open beneath your chair. A Discord message from Claire popped up on your screen. "You're welcome ;)". Across the screen, Leon's ears had turned the faintest shade of pink as he put his headphones back, trying to hide them and open the game he was going to play to avert everyone's attention.
Before you could even notice, the special stream you had been planning for weeks was around the corner. It was nothing extraordinary, a twelve-hour charity stream to celebrate Leon reaching one hundred thousand followers, but the amount of preparation behind it was enough to make anyone's head spin. New overlays, alerts, donation goals, giveaways, a dozen backup scenes in case OBS decided to betray him again halfway through stream...
By the time the checklist was finally complete, the Discord call had already stretched well past midnight. "...I think that's everything," Leon said after a brief silence, the rhythmic clicking of his mouse coming to a stop. You glanced over the document one last time. "I think so too." Neither of you hung up. The comfortable silence that settled between you wasn't awkward; it was the kind that came naturally after months of spending almost every evening together, each of you quietly working on your own thing while the other happened to be there.
Somewhere in the background, you heard Leon yawn. "Tired?" You muttered. "A little." He answered just as quietly. "You should sleep then," He hummed in response, yet he didn't try to leave the call. "So..." he spoke again. "Did you end up watching that movie?" A small smile tugged at your lips.
And just like that, the checklist was forgotten. One movie somehow turned into five, five turned into childhood cartoons neither of you had thought about in years, Leon admitted he'd cried watching Hachi, and immediately tried to defend himself before you could tease him for it. "You cried too," he pointed out when you laughed. "I never said I didn't." He chuckled quietly at your answer. The sound reached you through your headphones, soft enough that it almost blended with the rain tapping against your bedroom window.
You talked about pets next. About how Leon had always wanted a golden retriever, but his apartment wasn't exactly dog-friendly, about the stray orange cat that occasionally wandered into your garden as if it owned the place.
Then came the childhood stories. The embarrassing ones. The ones you usually forget until someone accidentally unlocks the memory. Leon confessed he'd once gotten lost in a supermarket because he had followed someone else's jacket, convinced it was his dad. You laughed so hard your stomach hurt. He laughed as well, because hearing your laugh somehow made it funnier.
Hours slipped away unnoticed. By the time either of you glanced at the clock again, it was almost four in the morning. "We should probably sleep," you murmured, reluctant despite yourself. "Probably." Once again, neither of you moved. Leon broke the silence first. "What do you want to do... eventually?" You blinked, confused. "What do you mean?” "I don't know." His voice carried that familiar hesitation, as though he was afraid of asking something too personal. "Like... years from now." You leaned back in your chair, thinking. "I think I'd like somewhere quiet." He hummed. "A little house, a dog, or a cat." "A golden retriever and an orange cat?" You could practically hear the smile in his voice. "...Definitely." You chuckled. A small pause settled in the call. "What about you?" You asked. He took a moment to answer. "I don't really care where I end up." His words came out almost absentmindedly. "As long as I have someone to share my life with." Something in your chest tightened.
Neither of you acknowledged the silence that followed. It felt fragile, like speaking too loudly would somehow break it. Eventually, Leon cleared his throat. "I should let you sleep." He said quietly. "You should." You chuckled. "...Goodnight." "Goodnight, Leon." The call ended with the familiar Discord sound echoing through your room. For a long moment, you simply stared at your dark monitor. The stream had only taken an hour to prepare; the remaining three had been spent talking about everything and absolutely nothing. Your eyes drifted towards the clock before a quiet thought crossed your mind. It had felt suspiciously close to a date. You immediately shook your head. It couldn't have been; Leon was just comfortable around you. That was all.
On the other side of the city, Leon was lying in bed with one arm thrown over his eyes. He had spent the last ten minutes replaying the conversation in his head instead of sleeping. He couldn't remember the last time talking to someone had felt that effortless. The corner of his mouth lifted into a tired smile. It had felt suspiciously close to a date. His face warmed almost instantly. "...Get a grip," he muttered to himself before reaching over to switch off the bedside lamp.
The charity stream couldn't have gone better. Twelve hours somehow turned into thirteen after Leon insisted on finishing "just one more build" before ending the stream. The donation goal had been surpassed hours ago, chat had somehow convinced him to wear a ridiculous paper crown, and by the time he thanked everyone for staying until the end, his voice had grown noticeably hoarse. You were already typing out a final message in chat when a notification appeared.
Ada raided with 18.642 viewers.
For a second, nobody said anything. "...What?" Leon's eyes darted between the notification and the rapidly increasing viewer count. "What's going on?" You couldn't help laughing through your headset. "Leon." "I know!" You chuckled. "No, I don't think you do." His hands hovered awkwardly over his keyboard as though he had forgotten how to use it. "I... Uh..." He let out an embarrassed laugh before clearing his throat. "Hi." Chat immediately exploded. You watched the viewer count nearly double within minutes.
Ada stayed only long enough to wish him luck before disappearing again, but the damage had already been done. By the time Leon finally ended the stream, thousands of new followers had joined his community. He sat there staring at the dashboard for a full minute. "...There's no way." "There is," you replied, smiling to yourself. "...I think I'm going to throw up." You rolled your eyes. "You'll survive." He stayed quiet for a moment. "I don't know..." "You literally just did." He let out a familiar laugh, the one that always appeared whenever something good happened to him.
About half an hour later, your phone buzzed."Discord now." No greeting, no explanation. You couldn't help smiling as you clicked on his profile. He picked up before the first ring had even finished. "You'll never guess." He said excitedly. "Ada offered you a collab?" The call fell silent for a second. "How did you know???" He complained. "Magic." You joked, your laugh sneaking into the mic. He sounded disappointed that his surprise barely lasted ten seconds. Then the excitement won again. "She has this Minecraft Hardcore series with a bunch of creators." His words came out faster than usual. "She asked if I'd like to join for the next season." You couldn't stop smiling. "Leon." "What?" He answered immediately. "You have to say yes." You encouraged him. "You really think so?" "I know so." You corrected with a chuckle. "What if people only watch because it's Ada?" He hesitated. "Then they'll stay because it's you." Silence settled between you, long enough for Leon to quietly mumble a simple 'thanks'.
You leaned back in your chair. "You've worked for this for over a year." Leon hummed as he nodded thoughtfully. "I'm proud of you." Another pause, this one even longer. When he finally spoke again, his voice was softer. "...I'm glad you were here." For reasons you couldn't quite explain, your heart skipped once. "So am I."
The Hardcore series premiered the following Saturday. You had spent an hour before the stream helping Leon double-check every setting, even though he'd already checked them twice himself. "You've forgotten something." His voice immediately tensed. "What is it?" You burst into loud laughter. "I'm kidding." A groan echoed through your headset. "You're evil." He complained. "I learned from chat." You smiled to yourself. "Nervous?" You asked after a small silence. "...A little." He quietly admitted. "You'll do great." You reassured him, just like you always did. "...You'll be there, right?" The question was so familiar that neither of you seemed to think twice about it. "Always."
The server was already full by the time Leon joined. Several creators greeted him as their voice chat filled with overlapping instructions and laughter. Then Ada spoke. "So you're the rookie." Leon blinked. "...Rookie?" Leon asked nervously. "You've never played Hardcore with us," Ada said. "I guess not." The blond boy let out a quiet laugh. "Try not to die in the first ten minutes." A few creators laughed. "So... no pressure?" Leon joked. "None at all." You couldn't help smiling at your screen.
Leon sounded nervous, but little by little the conversation began flowing naturally. He accidentally punched another player instead of a tree, someone fell into a ravine, Ada silently handed Leon an iron pickaxe after he admitted he'd forgotten to craft one. "You came unprepared." Ada joked. "I was distracted." Leon defended immediately. "So I noticed." Every exchange was accompanied by laughter from the rest of the group. The atmosphere felt effortlessly comfortable. You found yourself relaxing alongside him. Then your eyes drifted towards the chat.
"THEY'RE CUTE."
"Ada bullying Leon is my new favorite thing."
"I ship it."
"#Aeon *peepolove*"
"The chemistry????"
You frowned. It was only a few messages, then dozens. Edits were already being mentioned before the stream had even ended.
"Aeon nation."
"Sorry, mod."
Your fingers hesitated above the keyboard. You deleted the timeout command before pressing Enter. There was no reason to moderate them; they weren't breaking any rules, they were only joking, just like they always had. Yet, for reasons you couldn't understand, every message left an uncomfortable knot somewhere beneath your ribs. You watched Leon laugh at something Ada had said. She nudged his character into the river, and he accidentally grabbed her in with him; the entire call dissolved into laughter. It looked... Natural. Maybe even better than you expected.
Your chest tightened. Of course, people would ship them. Ada was confident, quick-witted, and popular. Leon seemed far more relaxed around her than he'd been at the beginning of the stream. Your thoughts stopped abruptly. No, that wasn't fair. You closed the chat for a moment, rubbing your eyes. What exactly were you jealous of? Leon wasn't your boyfriend; he wasn't even flirting. He was simply making friends. You had no right to feel this way. So, why did it hurt?
Nearly four hours later, the stream finally came to an end. One by one, everyone disconnected from the voice call until only Leon and Ada remained. Neither of them spoke for a moment. Then Ada broke the silence. "So." Leon looked back at his monitor. "Huh?" He muttered. "You're not dating?" His eyebrows drew together. "...Who?" He hesitated to ask. "Your moderator." The question caught him so off guard that he nearly knocked over the glass sitting beside his keyboard. "What?" "Y/N, isn't it?" He stared at the Discord window as though it might suddenly explain what was happening. "No." Ada hummed thoughtfully. "I would've bet money on it." Leon's ears warmed. "We're just..." He hesitated again. "...Friends." "Right." The single word carried just enough amusement to make him feel suspicious. "You don't believe me?" He asked. "I believe that's what you tell yourself." Leon frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?" Ada let out a quiet laugh. "It means you've spent the entire evening asking whether she'd like this joke, whether she'd laugh at that story, whether she'd think your house looked ugly." Leon opened his mouth just to close it again. "You also looked for her in chat every five minutes." Ada pointed out. "Did I?" "You did." Silence settled between them.
Ada leaned back in her chair. "Talk to her." His eyes widened. "What?" He said immediately. "If she says no, you'll survive." Ada laughed. "...And if she doesn't?" A faint smile slipped into Ada's voice. "Then you'll wonder why you waited so long." She said before hanging up. Leon didn't move. Because for the first time in months, he wasn't wondering whether the chat had been reading too much into things. He was wondering if maybe, just maybe, they had noticed something long before he had.
Days went by, and you barely talked to him. At first, Leon convinced himself he was imagining it. People got busy; you had your own life outside of Twitch. It wasn't unusual for you to answer a message an hour later or skip a Discord call because you were tired. Those kinds of things happened; it was normal. Except... it kept happening.
The good morning messages became shorter, the conversations that usually drifted beyond stream schedules ended as soon as the planning was done. Whenever he suggested staying in the call a little longer, you suddenly had something else to do. Even during streams, you barely typed anymore. You still moderated the chat, greeted newcomers, and banned bots before anyone else noticed them. But the little comments that used to make him laugh had almost disappeared. Somehow, your presence had started feeling distant. He noticed it because he missed it, more than he wanted to admit.
"You've been staring at Discord for five minutes." Claire's voice pulled him out of his thoughts. Leon blinked. "I hav-." "You have." She didn't even sound doubtful. Claire knew you and Leon almost like the palm of her hand. She's been moderating Leon for as long as you have, but unlike you, she wasn't subtle. If something bothered her, everyone knew. She leaned back in her chair before looking at him through the call. "You've been weird all week." Leon sighed. "It's Y/N." He muttered. "I figured." Claire crossed her arms. "I think I did something." Claire raised an eyebrow. "What makes you say that?" She asked with curiosity. "She's..." He searched for the right word. "Different." Claire remained quiet. "She answers less, always has an excuse to leave..." Your friend hummed. "And I don't know why." Leon looked down, like a sad puppy who had just been scolded. "I've been trying to think if I said something stupid." He added. Claire couldn't help smiling to herself. "You really have no idea." Leon looked up with a frown. "...Should I?" She considered for a moment letting him figure it out alone. But she knew he would take forever.
"Leon, stop trying to solve this like it's a puzzle," Claire said finally. "What do you mean?" The girl let out a tired sigh. "Call her." Leon blinked. "Just... call her?" He repeated, as if he needed to do so to understand it. Claire simply nodded. "What if she doesn't want to talk to me?" Claire let out a laugh. "Then she'll tell you." Leon nodded thoughtfully. "But I seriously doubt that's the problem." She reassured the blond boy. "Oh, and Leon," he hummed in response. "Ask her what's wrong, not what you think is wrong. Ask her what is actually wrong," She added before hanging up.
Your phone buzzed barely fifteen minutes later. Leon is calling... You stared at the screen. For a brief moment, you considered pretending you hadn't seen it. Instead, you answered. "Hey." His voice sounded quieter than usual. There was no background music, no keyboard clicking, no stream... Everything felt so empty. For a few seconds, neither of you spoke. Then Leon inhaled softly. "...Did I do something?" The question caught you completely off guard. "What?" You asked immediately. "Did I upset you?" He asked again. "No." The crease between your eyebrows deepened. "You've been avoiding me." There wasn't a hint of accusation in his voice, only concern. "I just..." you started before hesitating. Leon waited patiently. "I thought maybe I'd said something." He said when he noticed how quiet you were. "You didn't." You said once again. "Then what happened?" You closed your eyes. You hadn't planned on having this conversation, especially not with him. "It doesn't matter." You shrugged off. "It matters if it's making you unhappy." His words came so naturally that your chest tightened.
Silence settled between you, long enough for Leon to quietly add, "I miss talking to you." Your heart sank, followed by a small, defeated laugh that didn't sound like you at all. "It's stupid." You sounded embarrassed. "I'll decide that." Another silence settled before you before you exhaled. "...I got jealous," you whispered, finally admitting what you've been avoiding since the Hardcore series stream. Leon frowned. "Jealous?" The word sounded almost foreign in his tongue. You immediately regretted saying it. "No, forget it." You tried to downplay it. "Jealous of what?" You covered your face with one hand. "This is exactly why I didn't want to say anything." You quietly admitted. "I don't understand." You let out a slow breath. "...Ada." You let a beat of silence before hurrying to continue before he could say something. "I know how ridiculous this sounds. You were just streaming and making friends." You continued. "And she's nice. She didn't do anything wrong." You clarified before he could misunderstand your words. "I just..." Your voice grew quieter with every sentence. "I had no right to feel jealous." You swallowed.
"I mean..." you forced a weak laugh after an endless silence. "I'm not your girlfriend." Leon didn't answer. All at once, every conversation from the past year came crashing back. "You'll be in chat, right?" "Always." The nights spent talking until sunrise, looking for you the second every stream started, rescheduling broadcasts because you couldn't make it, wondering whether you'd laugh before telling a joke, checking if you'd see every message, missing you after only a few quiet days. His grip tightened around his phone. It wasn't Ada, it wasn't even the chat. The only thing he couldn't understand was how it had taken him this long to realise why losing your attention had felt so terrifying. "...Y/N." His voice came out almost breathless. "I think..." He stopped. You laughed to yourself for a second. Leon Kennedy would never know how to finish a sentence.
The silence that stretched through the line was frightening, like both of you knew that whatever came next would change something neither of you could ever take back. Leon let out a slow breath. "I think I would've been jealous too." You frowned. "What?" "If..." He rubbed a hand over his face, already embarrassed by his own words. "If you had been streaming with someone else." Your heartbeat quickened. "I would've hated reading the chat shipping you with him." He laughed nervously. "I probably would've tried to convince myself it didn't bother me... But it would've." Your grip around your phone tightened. "Leon..." You muttered under your breath. "I don't think it was Ada." Your voice was barely above a whisper. "I think I was just scared." You finally admitted. "Scared about what?" Leon asked with confusion, covering his voice. "Losing you." The words came out before he had the chance to overthink them.
Neither of you dared to say anything else for the next few seconds. Somewhere outside your bedroom window, the rain had started again. Soft enough that it almost disappeared beneath the sound of your own heartbeat. Leon cleared his throat. "You know..." He immediately regretted trying to continue. "What?" You asked when you noticed his hesitation. "It's stupid." He chuckled. "I'll decide that." You said, a smile tugging at your lips. "...You're starting to sound like me." He huffed a laugh. "I wonder why." You giggled. This time, the laugh escaping his throat sounded warmer. The tension eased just enough for him to find the courage he'd been looking for. "...Would it be weird..." He stopped for a second, deciding whether it was a good idea or not to say what he was thinking. "...if I asked my moderator out on a date?" Your eyes widened immediately.
For a second, you genuinely forgot how to breathe. Leon, on the other side of the call, was already questioning every life decision that had led him to that sentence. "I mean... You don't have to answer... I just thought... You know... It sounded way better in my head." Another awkward laugh escaped him. "I'm making this worse, aren't I?" You bit the inside of your cheek to suppress a smile. "...A little." You murmured. "I knew it." Leon chuckled. "But..." You looked down at the floor, feeling the warmth creeping back onto your cheeks. "Yeah?" He blinked. "It would probably be a little weird... Yeah." His shoulders sank. "Oh." A tiny laugh slipped past your lips. "But..." Hope returned so quickly it almost made him dizzy. "If you did..." You smiled to yourself, grateful he couldn't see how red your face had become. "...I'd say yes."
The line went completely silent for a solid minute. "Really?" Leon asked so quietly that it almost broke your heart. "Really." Another few seconds passed, and Leon broke the silence, quietly laughing to himself. "I spent months thinking you couldn't possibly like me." He confessed. "Same." You chuckled as he groaned. "We're idiots." He admitted. "A little." You continued to laugh. "A lot." Leon corrected, laughing with you. Neither of you realised how much you'd both missed hearing that sound together.
Eventually, Leon spoke again. "So..." He paused. "Friday?" You fell into the temptation of teasing him a little. "What about Friday?" You asked innocently. "Our..." He hesitated. "...Date?" It felt so weird hearing him say that word meant only for you. A smile spread widely across your face. "I'd love that." Somewhere on the other end of the call, Leon smiled widely, too. You couldn't see it, he couldn't see yours, but somehow, neither of you needed a camera to know the other one was smiling.
Friday's date somehow turned into another, then another, then late-night walks after streams, coffee before planning meetings, messages that no longer needed an excuse to be sent. Somewhere along the way, the line between streamer and moderator quietly disappeared. Neither of you ever made an announcement. Your relationship had never been built in front of an audience. It had grown in Discord calls that lasted until four in the morning, in quiet moments between stream schedules, in countless 'good luck' messages sent moments before Leon went live. So when his next stream started, nothing looked different. The same overlay, the same music, the same nervous smile as he greeted the chat.
"Good evening, everyone." Thousands of familiar usernames rushed across the screen. You quietly settled into your usual routine. Greeting new viewers, removing spam, answering questions, just another stream. The only difference was the four walls that surrounded you. About twenty minutes in, you heard Leon's voice from the room next door. He frowned at something on his second monitor. "Has my favorite mod posted tonight's schedule yet?" He said without thinking. The chat went completely silent for a moment. "Did the stream lag?" He asked innocently when he noticed nobody was typing.
The messages arrived all at once.
"Favorite?"
"EXCUSE ME????"
"SINCE WHEN IS SHE YOUR FAVORITE????"
"HE SAID FAVORITE"
"CLIP THAT."
"WE WON."
You covered your mouth with one hand. There was absolutely no way he had just said that. Leon read a few more messages before the realization slowly reached him. "...Oh." The tips of his ears turned pink under his headphones. "I didn't mean..." He stopped. Because what he was about to say wasn't true anymore. He had meant it. He just hadn't meant to say it out loud. A sheepish smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "I mean..." He rubbed the back of his neck. "...She is." The chat moved so quickly that it became impossible to read.
"HE DID NOT JUST DOUBLE DOWN."
"I USED TO PRAY FOR TIMES LIKE THIS."
"THE MOD WON."
"SOMEONE CHECK ON ADA."
You bit your lip, trying and failing miserably not to smile. Without looking away from your monitor, you typed the only response you could think of.
"Focus on your game, rookie."
You smiled towards the closed door that separated Leon's setup from where you were. Leon looked back at the chat. Then, at your message with a soft smile. "Yes, ma'am." The teasing only grew worse after that. Every time Leon thanked you for fixing something, every time you reminded him to drink water, every time he glanced at chat looking for your messages before anyone else's. The audience had always noticed. Now they finally had solid proof. Neither of you denied anything, you didn't confirm it either. You simply carried on exactly as you always had. Only now, Leon smiled a little more often.
The stream ended nearly four hours later. Leon leaned back in his chair with a tired sigh, thanking everyone one last time before raiding Ada and ending the broadcast. The familiar Twitch dashboard replaced the stream. Silence settled over the room. "...Well." "Well," you echoed from the doorway. Leon looked up so quickly he almost spun his chair around. "There you are." You smiled, your laptop tucked under one arm after spending the entire stream moderating from the guest room. "I've been here the whole time." You said. "I know." His smile came so easily now. "So..." You walked over. "...Favorite moderator?" He buried his face in one hand. "I panicked." He hid his smile behind his hand. "You doubled down." You narrowed your eyes at him. "Yeah." He chuckled. "You made it worse." A laugh escaped both of you at the same time. Leon stood from his chair, crossing the room until he stopped in front of you. "I guess they're going to figure it out eventually." You shrugged. "Maybe."
He smiled before leaning down just enough to press a soft, lingering kiss to your lips. "So much for keeping it a secret." He whispered, his hand resting on your cheek. "I think we laster..." you looked down at the watch on your wrist. "About twenty minutes." You looked up at him once again. "New record." He was about to lean in to kiss you again when your phone vibrated. Then his. You frowned.
You unlocked your screen. Claire. A screenshot filled almost the entire display. It was the chat. Hundreds upon hundreds of messages were flying by after Leon had called you his favorite moderator.
"HE'S NEVER CALLED HER THAT BEFORE."
"THAT'S HIS GIRLFRIEND."
"WE WON."
"I WAITED A YEAR FOR THIS."
At the very bottom, Claire had circled Leon's flustered expression in bright red. Underneath the screenshot, there was only one message. "ABOUT DAMN TIME." You couldn't stop yourself from laughing. Across the room, Leon let out an equally defeated groan. "...She sent you one too?" You turned your phone around. "She did." Leon held up his own screen. The exact same screenshot, the exact same message. For a second, you simply looked at each other and burst into laughter. A laugh that came so easily whenever you were together. When the laughter finally died down, Leon reached for your hand without thinking. His fingers intertwined with yours as naturally as though they'd always belonged there.
His free hand cupped your cheek again, connecting your lips in a messy kiss after his nose bumped into yours and you burst into laughter. In the middle of the kiss, Leon's phone screen lit up with a new notification. A message from Ada read 'Congratulations, rookie.' was completely ignored as Leon continued to kiss you.
Somehow, it felt like the perfect ending to a story that had started with nothing more than a Twitch chat and one moderator who had always been there.
summary: you are tired and up late on a Friday night, trying (and failing) to finish a presentation for your boss. luckily your husband, Leon, arrives at the scene to offer you his support and comfort :)
w/c: 722
tags/warning: fluff, just pure unadulterated fluff, domestic RE9!Leon x wife!Reader
a/n: this is my first time writing fanfic, and this cute drabble was a natural extension of my own irritation of staying up late with work and wishing for a leon kennedy to magically appear in my doorway hehe. this was written with re9 leon in mind, but you can imagine it with any leon of your liking!
A deep sigh escaped your lips as you ran your fingers through your hair in exasperation. Your gaze swept across the catastrophe that was your desk. Papers strewn haphazardly across the oak table, crinkled chewing gum wrappers littered next to a forgotten cup of coffee, and laptop screen alight with a presentation that seemed unwilling to complete itself. 12:57 am. The digital desk clock flashed, unbothered by the despair of the woman slumped in the chair before it.
Frustration that had sanded down into fatigue had settled like fuzzy static over your stiff back. "Why can’t my stupid boss finish his own presentation?" you hissed under your breath, picking up the now-cold coffee. The bitter taste instantly greeted your dull senses, sweeping across your tongue. Wincing as you swallowed down the sludge of three-hour-old coffee, you resumed your current task of shooting daggers at the blinking cursor mocking you from the safety of a screen. A grim scowl plastered across your face, echoing sentiments similar to that of a petulant teenager.
"Presentation still sawing at your sanity, sweetheart?" chuckled a deep baritone voice from behind you. A grumble of agreement slipped through your now pouting lips as you swiveled your chair back to face the source of the husky voice that carried the weathered cadence of a stormy sea.
A tall, well-built figure clad in grey sweatpants and a faded Metallica t-shirt leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed loosely over his broad chest. A faint smirk tugged at Leon's lips as he eyed your disheveled state with amusement in his greyish blue eyes. "Looks like someone's seriously deliberating murder right now", he quipped as he pushed himself off the doorway and slowly sauntered forward with a casual grace, well aware of the waves of frustration rolling off his wife.
You cocked your head and shot a glare at him. "Shut up, sleeping beauty", you retorted dryly, the ghost of a smile already threatening to expose your faux annoyance at him. Before Leon could catch a glimpse, you peeled your eyes off him and turned your chair back ahead. Your gaze returned to the screen as the bright light seared through your eyeballs.
Before you could spit out another bitter remark, probably about how you were going to shoot your boss into space, you felt the soft pressure of a kiss on the crown of your head. "How about I sit with you and help you out by offering my unsolicited input?" Leon murmured, voice muffled by your hair. A slightly surprised sigh slipped through your parted lips, before your right hand reached up to scratch his tousled dirty blonde hair absent-mindedly, earning you a low groan of approval. You melted into the familiar warmth of Leon's body leaning in behind you, letting the lingering scent of gun oil and his woodsy cologne blanket you into a state of quiet comfort.
Leon's breath fanned out over your hair in a steady rhythm, chin resting on your head as the corded muscles of his veiny forearms gently wrapped around your shoulders, grounding you as he felt the tension slowly ebbing out of your knotted muscles. You stayed like that with him for a minute, both of you cautiously eyeing the laptop screen like you were preparing for war.
"Well, Mr. Kennedy, if you are going to keep me company, I would appreciate a fresh cup of coffee as a peace offering for sleeping before me tonight", you crooned, a smug grin toying at your lips. Catching the faint reflection of you from off the laptop's screen, a deep chuckle rumbled in his chest. A flutter of warmth tingled down your spine as he let out a breath. "Yes ma'am", he chuckled, leaning down further to quickly peck your cheek before walking out of the room. Color bloomed in your cheeks as you sank into your chair, a shameless grin painted on your lips.
“And for the record, Mrs. Kennedy, I fell asleep on the couch waiting for you to come to bed”, he called from the hallway. A soft giggle escaped your lips as you shook your head. This man would be the death of you.
Your fingers moved to rest above the keyboard as you scanned the half-finished slide with a newfound lightness in your chest. Maybe the presentation wouldn't be so annoying to finish after all.
thank you so much for reading guys! i was super nervous posting this, but hope you enjoyed :D oh and it’s just my own headcanon that Leon would love Metallica hehe
edit: thank you for all the notes, i’m beyond grateful :) i didn’t expect this for a second at all, with this being my first post too!
i am actively working on writing a proper one-shot from this rough drabble, since this one was just a product of my scrambled brain cells trying to put together coherent sentences at 1am while i hallucinated leon bringing me a coffee.
the upcoming one-shot will follow the same idea of this drabble, but will lean more into leon and the reader’s witty banter and fluff-filled relationship. and i promise it’ll be worth the wait, so stay tuned!
thank you for all the support again! means the world xx
𝜗𝜚 It’s summer! Of course, college pressures are looming on the horizon, but you can’t see them through the heat haze- or maybe your sunglasses are just too dark. Armed with just your birth control, trusty Polaroid camera and a few bikinis, you’re determined to make this summer the best yet; even if it means fucking everybody you can get your hands on! And that means documenting for the photo album, of course; the sea is just so pretty this time of year..!
content: found at the start of each chap
uploads: totally completed series!
ೃ࿔*:･ the photo album…
Polaroid #1 - the beach, ft. Satoru Gojo
Polaroid #2 - the beach (again), ft. Suguru Geto
Polaroid #3 - the lifeguard tower, ft. Ryomen Sukuna
Polaroid #4 - the bedroom, ft. Megumi Fushiguro
Polaroid #5 - the couch, ft. Toji Fushiguro
Polaroid #6 - the kitchen, ft. Kento Nanami
Polaroid #7 - the club, ft. Yuji Itadori
Polaroid #8 - the living room floor, ft. Choso Kamo
Polaroid #9 - epilogue
a/n: my first ever jjk series- just in time for summer! I hope you’ll enjoy reading these summery stories as much as I enjoyed writing them <3
Husband Hiromi is a romantic through and through <3
You never really expected a man like your husband, Hiromi Higuruma, to be such a romantic, sweetheart kind of person.
Back when you two had just met and started dating, he was quieter and a bit distant, leaving it up to you to decide what the two of you did most of the time. And you didn't mind, because he'd always follow you around like a puppy to wherever you decided to take him to, because all he wanted was to stay in your vicinity.
He even seemed hesitant with physical touch. Not that he didn't like it when you initiated, but his hesitation when it came to initiating it himself always made it seem otherwise.
He'd only started to cling to you more and take more initiative when half a year had gone by with your relationship. The change was almost a little sudden, but pleasantly surprising.
Holding your hand more, leaning into you as he caught you by your waist from behind, whispering the cutest things in your ear in that deep, sleepy voice till your ears turned red and slowly smirking to himself..
He'd mention about some cafe or restaurant in passing, and you wouldn't think much till he was literally telling you to get ready because he booked a reservation. The first few times, you got taken pretty off guard.
Did you decline though? Hell no. Who's passing up on good food and a sweetheart like him?
It didn't take you long to get accustomed to it. You felt a little proud, even. Hiromi was a bit stubborn by nature, and to have brought about a change like this without active efforts has got to count as somewhat of a feat, right?
Years have passed by now, and his title changed from your boyfriend, to your fiance, and finally to your husband.
His devotion to you has only increased, and while his words may fail to convey it at times, his actions certainly do.
You can call it princess treatment or you can call it babying, but in his eyes, it's simply taking care of his wife who he adores so much his poor heart can't take it. His love for you is too big for his body, so it pours in with every thing that he does for you.
He loves to take you shopping, arms loaded with bags upon bags and he won't even let you notice. Forget about telling him to let you hold even one of them, because he's gonna keep you distracted by going along with your conversations about new clothing lines and makeup ranges, pointing to new, shiny looking stores as an imperceptible smile curled into his face.
He's always gonna hold doors open for you, and pull out your chairs before you sit in restaurants, parties, cafes, wherever you go. He loves to watch you eat and enjoy your food. It brings him so much joy and peace that he swears it's his favourite thing about taking you out to eat.
When you're finally home after a long day, whining about sore feet from walking in heels all day long, he kneels in front of you and gently takes them off your feet, massaging them softly before he picks you up and walks inside with you safely tucked into him.
He prepares a nice warm bath for you with all of your favourite bath salts, stripping off both his and your clothes before you both settle into the water, letting it soothe the ache in your muscles. His fingers intertwine with yours and he brings your hand to his lips, kissing each finger as he listens to you talk about your day and whatever else. He's always been a good listener after all, and he remembers everything you say down to the smallest of details.
And when he finally gets into you bed with you, he spoons you back against him in his arms, draping himself onto you. His weight is like a warm blanket, cozy in a way that makes you sleepier. His head finds home into the crooke of your neck, slow murmurs of 'I love you's slipping past his lips that trace the softness of your skin. Your hand finds his damp hair, gently soothing into his scalp as you ask why he does all this when you two are already married. You already know the answer, you've heard it a thousand times and more, but you want to hear it in his voice again. A low sound vibrates through his chest as he laughs a little.
"Does marrying you means I need to stop loving on you as much? I definitely need a divorce then"
Now it's your turn to laugh. You lean your head to the side, allowing him to nuzzle into your neck.
"You're getting cheekier by the day. And don't even think about a divorce or I'm burning you in your sleep"
You can feel curling of his lips on your skin.
"I won't. Ever"
This one was kinda just unplanned af and a little self indulgent, because I'm feeling mentally unwell from all the stress I'm dealing with on the daily. I'm not even talking to anyone about it.
I'll make the Megumi post later this week. Hope you enjoyed.
Hiromi knew how difficult it must be for you to be carrying a child — he had done his research the same night you shakily handed him the positive test, biting your lip in anticipation. That same night he had already fallen down a rabbit hole of pregnancy symptoms, prenatal care, mood swings, the whole nine yards. His approach to your pregnancy was similar to how he handled his court cases, dedication and education.
He was prepared for the nausea, the swelling, even the insane mood swings that were bound to smack him in the face.
What Hiromi wasn't prepared for? Being awoken every night because you suddenly craved the most outrageous combination of food.
The first couple of times it was tame, asking him to grab you some mochi from the kitchen at eleven, maybe even a request to make a fruit salad just before he got into bed. Then it got weirder, like the time you woke him up at one in the morning so he could make you ramen with strawberries on top, or when you asked for whipped cream and pickles at 3AM.
Now, for the third time this week, Hiromi felt your hands nudge his shoulder, squeezing ever so slightly. “Romi,” your voice was soft, almost inaudible through the thick night. Almost. “Romi, baby…”
He let out a tired groan, shifting slightly in his half-conscious state. “Can you run to the store to buy some honey? We ran out and I really want to have some with grapes.” He made another sleepy grumble, cracking an eye open to peer at the digital clock on the side table.
4:07AM.
A long groan left his lips, arm flopping dramatically over his face in an attempt to hide from your pleading eyes even in the dark. “Honey,” his voice came out hoarse, coated in exhaustion, “I’m tired.”
The second those words left his mouth Hiromi knew he fucked up.
Silence engulfed the room for what felt like an eternity, he swiftly sat up, searching the dark room for your face. As his eyes adjusted he found your own, wide and glassy with tears that threatened to spill.
“Oh…” You whispered, lips quivering as you held back your tears.
Hiromi felt his heart drop to his ass. “N-No, no, don't —” but he was too late. “You don't have to go,” your voice wavered as you turned away from him and settled under the covers again. “Im sorry, I’m being annoying.”
He felt his stomach clench at your words, “Honey —”
“I didn't mean to disturb you...” you trailed off, curling inwards underneath the blanket.
Then he heard it, the sound that every husband fears.
Your sniffling.
His eyes widened, fear taking over every nerve as his hands searched for yours amid the pillows and covers. “Hey, why are you crying?” You sniffled again, trying to wriggle away as he approached you.
You hiccuped, “You hate me.” Hiromi sighed, moving closer so he could wrap his arms around you, “I absolutely do not hate you.”
“But you sounded mad.”
He chucked at your words, one hand coming up to brush against your cheek, “I sounded asleep.”
You let out a small giggle at his words, wiping your eyes. “You know, Romi, pregnancy cravings are scientifically proven to be emotionally distressing.” He smiled at you, nose brushing against your temple, “Did you finally read all those articles I've been sending you?”
“Maybe…” you murmured before nuzzling closer into his chest. Hiromi leaned over, lips brushing your own. Even with tear-streaked cheeks and red eyes he still believed that you were the prettiest thing he had ever seen. Hiromi sighed again, “You are carrying my child — our child, you could wake me up at five in the morning and ask me to travel across Japan for deep-fried butter and I would still go for you.”
You smiled despite yourself, “Really?”
“Although, I would complain the entire time.”
You beamed up at him. He swears the room lit up because of how bright your eyes were. “Does that mean you'll get me the honey?” With one last sigh, Hiromi pushed himself out of bed. “Ice cream too?” You nodded enthusiastically, “Make sure it’s the big tub.”
He just rolled his eyes, leaning over to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “Will you let me sleep once I’m home?”
You are in a loveless marriage with your husband of six years. Until he breaks the one rule you both religiously followed. No mistresses allowed. On any side. Surprisingly you don’t run straight to divorce, instead into arms of an overworked divorce lawyer.
Monday’s groceries, Tuesday is meal prep, Wednesday is family dinner— always with his family, Thursday is almost always a publicity outing, and Friday? Friday’s laundry day.
These are things you would’ve never payed attention to prior to getting married, yet here you were marking them on your calendar, folding a grown man’s clothes. Shit that you wouldn’t be caught dead with years ago.
It’s Thursday again, which means suffocating confrontations disguised as conversations.
You smile at yourself in the mirror, you’re in a black, halter dress, a little bit cinched on the waist to show your figure, but still modest enough.
Behind you, your husband fixes his cuff links, lazy fuck keeps glancing up at you from the mirror, waiting for you to notice him struggling and lend a hand.
Instead, you keep looking your reflection, trying on different earrings to see which one fit. Then, you settle on a pair of gold earrings, humming as you put them on.
Behind you, his gaze lingers, heavy and unmoving, its that look he gives you when he’s about to say some bullshit.
Like now, “Don’t you think this is a little much for a family dinner?” He says, eyes roaming over your hips. “Mom might not like it.”
You roll your eyes inwardly at the mention of the witch his mom.
Maybe the better adjective for her would be bitch. A nasty, snarky, hook nosed bitch, who couldn’t stop babying her thirty-something year old son.
You would think it was a TSA screening the way she would feel the need to squint her beady little eyes at you, searching for things about to pick at.
She said since your nails were always done, it must mean you never cooked for her son, even though he had more than enough money to afford a cook. She said you dress too scandalous, like you were supposed to put on a potato sack simply because you were married.
And the worst part? You took these critiques to heart. Gone were the days of you taking care of yourself and dressing for you, all because you were married.
Your fists clenched at your side. Those days of you dimming your shine for some man and his family were over.
Now you knew how to deal with people like this. Never give them anything to work with.
“Nope.” You replied cooly, popping the p as you grabbed a clutch off your extensive collection.
Bypassing him on your way out the walk-in closet, your heels clicking and clacking on the marbled floor.
“Where are you going?!” He called out, staring at you in disbelief.
“To the car, You can drive the other one and meet me there.” And with that, you were out, adjusting your shades as well.
———————————————————
Silence hung, heavy in the room. Your fork scrapes against the porcelain dish, and suddenly the previously downcast eyes have all shot to you.
You continue eating calmly, ignoring the pointed look your husband shoots you.
“Y/n,” he mumbles, a hand drifting off to squeeze your leg, pretending to be discreet, but his eyes stayed on his mother. “Please eat a little more quietly.”
You shake his leg off you, leaning over to scoop yourself some more pasta, completely disregarding everyone’s stares of horror.
Your eyes drift over to your mother in law, who sits at the end of the table. Still no reaction. Not even a look.
Not until you pick up a forkful of pasta to your lips, slurping unashamed, sauce getting all over your lips.
Bam! She slams her cup down on the table, red wine spilling everywhere, staining the napkins before her a deep crimson.
You look up at the sound, looking innocent as can be, “Is something wrong mom?”
At once, anger lashes out at you, “Don’t call me mom!”
Besides you, your husband immediately begins placating her, “Mo—
“No!” She says firmly, raising a hand up to stop him. Her eyes narrow back at you. “What an embarrassment it is to have you as a daughter-in law, you have no manners—
“Mom, calm—
“Stop interrupting me Jonas! She has no manners, no decorum, she is not fit to be your wife, or bear our family name!” She snaps, her voice trembling with a raw, uncontrollable anger.
It all enters in one ear and out, you were still keeping your composure.
“Y/n. Pour mom some more wine.” Jonas, your husband says next to you, still sucking up to his mother like a little coward.
You nod, picking up the bottle of wine— probably more expensive than any of your purses, and stand up, walking over to her.
As you walk close, her eyes stay fixed forward, hand holding her wine glass out for you to pour in.
Like you were some type of maid, she could order around with no care in the world.
All it takes is one tilt of the bottle, and a cute little, oops! from your glossed lips, and crimson red flows from the bottle down the base of her head.
Your father in law— who had been radio silent the entire time stands up, furiously, his face redder than the wine.
Even your husband gets up, slamming the table, steam practically oozing out his ears.
Once the bottle is empty, you calmly set it down, grabbing your clutch and walking out the restaurant, listening to their enraged voices fade out with every step you took.
When you get back into your car, you can’t help but burst out laughing, grabbing yourself the outfit you had in the back and slipping it off, before you drove off.
———————————————————The buzz of the club is almost deafening around you. To others, it’s a turn off, it’s a reason for them to go to a bar instead, but to you, it’s everything you could ever want.
you walked in, pulling down on your tiny little sequenced skirt. You paired it up with a black, backless draped halter top, which showed more skin than it covered.
It had been so long since you walked inside a club, been so long since you set free and danced to your heart’s content.
That reputation clause had been more of a leash on you, hindering you from doing anything that you enjoyed.
No bars, no clubs, no drinking, moderate dressing, fuck he might as well’ve killed your social life.
Except he did. While you weren’t barred from speaking with your friends, you were barred from doing anything with them that you normally did.
Those bars and clubs, the drinks? All of it was done with them. So when you married your husband, it all got forcefully shoved off the table.
You shook your head, trying to rid yourself of those thoughts.
Tonight was about you. About your fun, snd reclaiming your everything back.
Speaking of your friends, one of them, Tierra, pulls you into a tight embrace, early bawling her eyes out.
“Ohh, baby I missed you so much!” She whined, half dramatic, half serious.
It had been years since you guys got to hang out like this, not just for a shopping day, or a spa day with them, but dancing, just like the old days.
Another one of your friends, Laura, joins in—both the hug and the sentiment. “I can’t even be mad at you,” She sniffles, giggling.
One by one, everyone in the friend group joins in, turning the hug into a giant group hug.
You felt your eyes mist up, the warmth of your friends were so much more comforting than seeing their faces over FaceTime or simply texting them.
After a few minutes, all five of you girls separate, still wiping your eyes.
“But what happened to your husband? Wouldn’t he be mad you’re here?”
It dawns on you then that you still haven’t informed them about the whole cheating situation. It’s a far cry from the lack of fulter you had with them years ago. If you’re period was even a day late, if your doordash didn’t arrive on time, or maybe you picked your nose too hard, you would be so quick to tell them.
Rolling your eyes, you said, “That loser? Please. He cheated.”
A gasp escaped one of their mouths, then another, a range of disbelief and anger.
“ Cheated?”
“How could anyone cheat on you?”
Finally, Tierra asks the question that had been on everyone’s minds. “So what are you gonna do?”
You sip on the margarita in your hand, swirling the cup around. “Nothing.”
It’s funny how when you said nothing, your friends immediately knew what it meant.
You were going to do the absolute most.
ch1 here
i was rewatching attack on titan while doing this and the slurping pasta scene reminded me of Sasha stuffing her face. anyways Higuruma will be introduced in the next chapter 😏
