— so this is a new fanfic venture for me… like everyone else, i think leon kennedy is sexy and needed to write something. please reblog/comment!
——
Your phone pinged and illuminated in the dark bedroom. Instantly, your heart pounded with a mixture of fear and delight. No one in their right mind would message you at midnight except for the man you had been patiently waiting for. But with that came the chance of good or bad news.
Leon had been braving the ruins of Raccoon City for almost two weeks now. Ten days without him felt like a lifetime. His exact whereabouts were unknown, and with the activated virus burrowing deeper in his bloodstream, not knowing if he was alive with a beating heart and light behind his ice-blue eyes was agonizing. Anxiety clawed at your chest with each hour that had passed after his departure. Desperately, you had pleaded to go with him. To at least be nearby if things went wrong. He was growing wearier, and despite your ineptitude with a weapon, you wanted to help him investigate the violent threat that was slowly spreading in his and others' systems. To find something—anything —about the mysterious disease's origins. Beyond that, there had to be a cure. You needed there to be one so that Leon didn't have to suffer an excruciating end. And while your husband seemed to accept his fate, you weren't so keen on living in a cruel world without his protection.
Leon did everything in his power to keep you far removed from his work, but you saw the reality play out on the news broadcasts. The unfolding destruction, the helplessness, the mass confusion. Knowing he had chosen to revisit the horrors he experienced decades ago was a true act of heroism. So, with admiration for his valor, you had reluctantly let him go with a tearful goodbye on the front porch of your secluded home.
You closed your eyes, picturing his face that night. In the dim shadows, you remembered the stubble on his jaw, the few silver hairs peppered there catching the light. The purple hue under his eyes, significant of the years he devoted his life to danger. The dimple on his chin you loved to press your thumb into. Each beautiful age line indenting his skin while he stared at you like time was running out. An unspoken conversation had brewed behind his stormy gaze, and you had felt it pierce the most vulnerable parts of your flesh. If this is the last time I see you...
"I love you," Leon had said, his voice rough yet sincere. "I'll be back. And you'll stay right here."
There had been no room for argument. It had been a hopeful vow to return to each other—not unscathed, but merely alive. And in his declining state, it was all you could have asked for.
Truthfully, the black marks snaking across his neck and arms petrified you. They seemed to shoot farther across his veins each day, swelling like ink in water. The pain was affecting him too. He tried so hard to hide it, but you had noticed every wince and groan when you hugged him goodbye. The stubborn man he was, he had pushed through it and lifted you in his arms, holding you for five straight minutes before driving off in his Porsche with one last glance at your melancholy expression.
Leon hadn't kissed you then for fear that he would transmit the disease to you. It had been a month since you felt his full lips against yours. How intensely you craved them, but you knew better than to risk it, what with the uncertainty and rapid progression of the virus. The torturous stages and how quickly it could attack one's system were a deadly combination. It was best to be overly cautious.
With a deep breath and a prayer to whoever was listening, you opened your text messages.
Leon: Homeward bound. Expect a car to pull in around 2 a.m. You don't have to wait up for me. Get some sleep, please. I'll be quiet.
You let out a small sound of relief and covered your face, wanting to break down with joy. Miraculously, you felt the anxiety drain out of your body. Leon wasn't able to communicate with you often during his investigations, mainly for your and his safety. Didn't want anyone suspicious knocking at the door or trying to track calls. The last time Leon contacted you was eight days ago when he reached an extraction point. He had provided you with a simple "I'm safe." And then it was radio silence, which only made you more fraught with dread. Who knew the situations he had found himself in?
A minute later, your phone pinged again.
Leon: The doors and windows better be locked.
A tear slipped down your cheek as you smiled widely. He took home security very seriously for obvious reasons, and with leaving you alone, there were strict instructions he expected you to follow. You would follow that one, but as for being told to get some sleep, you were too wired to lie still for long.
You walked over to Leon's closet, adrenaline humming underneath your skin. Sliding the metal hangers to the side, you grabbed one of the few T-shirts Leon had left behind. It was plain; the faded navy cotton was well-worn, and you were guilty of wearing it to bed on more than one occasion. The whole closet smelled like him, a familiar musky scent that you had dearly missed engulfing you.
You picked out a pair of grey sweatpants and laid Leon's version of pajamas on the edge of the bed for him to change into once he arrived. You imagined he would want to take a hot shower and crawl under the blankets wearing something other than tactical garments and gear. He had experienced insomnia for the past couple of years. From the virus to his trauma to never feeling like he was truly free from harm, you wanted to offer the things that comforted him.
Back in the closet, behind his clothes, was a shelf that housed Leon's leftover belongings—printed pictures of private moments in your marriage, half of them gone and tucked away in Leon's backpack; a pistol for self-defense that he had taught you how to shoot using beer cans as targets; and a sealed envelope carrying a handwritten letter you had been informed to open lest Leon never returned. With a forceful blink, you hid it on the top shelf so you wouldn't have to think about it. He was alive—hopefully healthy and home for good.
But most importantly, in a velvet jewelry pouch was Leon's gold wedding band. He had left it here for safekeeping, not wanting to lose it in the chaos and action of his endeavor. It symbolized his loyalty to one day permanently shed his agent duties and be a husband. He separated the two roles as much as possible, and as much as you loved the stoic, sarcastic side of Leon that crept through after missions, you much preferred the warm, affectionate man you married in the backyard with only the sycamore trees as witnesses.
You took the pouch and set it atop his folded clothes on the bed. Perfect. All ready for him.
There wasn't much else you could busy yourself with while waiting, so you headed to the kitchen and decided to cook Leon a hot meal and passionflower tea. You didn't even want to ask what he had been eating. Or how little.
With a contented sigh, you placed a pot of water and a kettle over the stove burners and then tried to make the house more welcoming. You lit a jasmine-scented candle, turned on the lamp near the doorway, and straightened the kitchen chairs. It was raining steadily outside; the pattering was a nice ambience for the otherwise quiet space.
It became awfully lonesome whenever Leon was away, but you couldn't complain when he was out there battling monsters far beyond your comprehension and risking his life for the greater good of humanity. So, the least you could do was make this a place for your husband to call home.
——
At 2:12 a.m., a flash of headlights reflected off the windows in the bedroom. From the second floor, you peeked past the open blinds and looked down to find Leon's sleek black Porsche slowly pulling in the driveway. Your pulse quickened as you stood frozen in place, willing your brain to compute that he was really here.
Sweet solace.
From your view, Leon stepped out, the epitome of casual and confident. He wore a black leather jacket, the fur color making him look more like a fashion model than a federal agent. His gloved hands hauled a duffel bag from the passenger seat, his fringed, rain-soaked hair shielding half his face. His movements were fluid, which was a promising sign.
God, you had missed him.
Like a slow-motion scene, Leon craned his neck, his gaze finally finding yours through the window beaded with raindrops. He gently shut the car door behind him without breaking eye contact, a slight smile transforming his face, like he was humored by your choice to stay up waiting for him. He looked content and rejuvenated. Was he healed?
You grabbed the jewelry pouch and stuffed it in your pocket before racing downstairs, nearly tumbling on the hardwood floors in your socks. You made quick work of unlocking the double-cylinder deadbolts and then swung open the door.
Leon stood there, duffel bag at his feet. Every part of you wanted to jump into his arms, but first, you assessed him. No limbs missing. No visible blood, bruises, or bites. Just his handsome face staring at you expectantly with a lightness to his posture you hadn't seen in a long time.
"Leon," you whispered disbelievingly, your hand slowly reaching out to touch his cheek.
He leaned into your palm. "Told you I'd come back for you, didn't I?"
You laughed, taking in every inch of him. "I knew you would. I knew—"
Before you could finish, Leon embraced you with the strength of a man reborn, and your senses absorbed every little thing. Hearing the creak of his jacket as his biceps tightened around your shoulders, a shelter of warmth and protection. Feeling the gentle rise and fall of his broad chest. Smelling leather and rain, along with his signature scent. Seeing your breath condense in the crisp October air, your lungs expanding with euphoria.
When Leon eventually pulled away, he had a gleam in his eyes. "Check this out." He tugged his jacket's collar down, revealing the skin of his neck. Normal, clear skin. No trace of black marks. Then, he yanked off his gloves, revealing unmarred flesh and prominent veins.
You gasped and said, "It's gone." Your brow furrowed with equal parts confusion and relief. "Like magic."
Leon huffed a laugh. "Met an FBI analyst who saved my life. We found an antiviral deep beneath Raccoon City. I thought it was a bioweapon at first." One side of his mouth quirked. "It's a long-ass story."
Your mind spun with his concise, albeit vague, rundown of events. "What the hell happened?" you asked, searching for answers but not knowing where to start.
"I'll tell you everything later. Not exactly a pleasant bedtime story."
"But—"
"Hey," Leon said softly, bending to meet your worried gaze. "We're safe. I'm not infected anymore. That's all that matters, yeah?"
You gripped the belt loops of his black cargo pants. "Who had the cure? Why would someone keep it a secret? How did you—"
"Will you kiss me already?" he interrupted. "I haven't seen my wife in ten days. I know I probably smell and look like shit, but I can only be a gentleman for so long."
Speechless, you scoffed at his sass but obediently found his lips. Sinking into him, you draped your arms around his neck and let the heat of his kiss alleviate every ache your heart battled during his absence. Leon cradled your face, nipping your lips just the way you liked. He was restraining himself, you knew, because he was exhausted and didn't want to promise anything further tonight. So you let him take gentle yet hungry sips, pulling soft moans from your throat.
Leon drew back just an inch, resting his forehead against yours. "Hi, sweetheart," he whispered.
"Hi." You stole another kiss. "There's a bowl of minestrone and some tea waiting for you in the kitchen."
"I thought I told you to sleep. You didn't reply to my message, so I assumed you listened."
"I was pacing around the house like a madwoman."
He groaned good-naturedly and kissed you hard, nearly knocking you off your feet. "Let's go inside. Don't want you catching a cold."
Leon leisurely led you through the threshold, one hand clutching yours, and you relished the masculine sway of his hips and his combat boots clunking on the floor. In his outfit, he looked too big, too menacing for such a cozy home, but you knew once he slipped into his pajamas, he would fit here perfectly like the last piece of a puzzle.
He shed his coat and sat at the kitchen table, pulling you onto his sturdy thighs with an arm braced around your waist. Claiming you, needing you glued to him as he began eating his meal with the same fervor as a ravenous wolf. You just watched how his eyes closed as the warm liquid met his tongue and how the tension in his muscles loosened bit by bit.
"Thank you," Leon said gruffly after scarfing down half the soup and wiping his mouth with his sleeve. "For taking care of me."
"Always." You kissed his temple, and with one look at his bare ring finger resting on the walnut table, you pulled out his wedding band from your pocket. "I also took care of this."
Leon hummed, squeezing your hip. "Good girl. Would you do the honors?"
You grinned and took his palm in your own, your diamond wedding ring glinting under the ceiling light. His skin was calloused but clean, and he watched intently as you glided the metal band across his finger until it was snug and back in its rightful place.
"There," you said quietly. "That's better."
Leon flexed his hand, healthy veins and tendons straining prettily. "I thought about getting a tattooed ring for when I'm away."
"Plan on leaving so soon?" The thought made you apprehensive. You still had so many questions, so many reasons to not feel entirely settled.
"God, no. No. I actually..." Leon shifted in his seat, clearing his throat. "I think I want to retire."
You stroked your thumb over his chin, an intimate act of comfort. Vulnerable moments didn't come easy to him. "Really?"
"Yeah," he replied. "I've done all I can do. And I want to be here with you, in our home, away from the mayhem."
The house you had bought together was on the East Coast, far from any big cities. Leon valued privacy, and it was respected here. With his past, he never had permanence, and your shared home was one of the few possessions he could truly hold onto. When the world around him fell into catastrophe, you were there waiting, a steady fixture in his life.
"Okay," you said calmly. "Whatever you feel is right."
"It's right. I need to take some time to, you know, process everything."
"Of course. We should go on vacation and have an actual honeymoon."
Leon had the nerve to look offended. "What, you didn't enjoy that cabin in the woods with no indoor plumbing?"
You lightly slapped his shoulder. "Stop." To be fair, he had picked the location with the intention of thinking it would be romantic. Sweet in theory, but never again.
Leon smirked, then became pensive. "No, I'd like that. A real honeymoon, I mean." He swallowed nervously. "Maybe... maybe start that family we've been talking about."
Your heart leaped, bursting with love for his transparency. "There's no rush, Leon."
"I know," he said. "I just think I crave more purpose in my life. Purpose outside of serving the government. I want to be needed in a different way."
Needed as a father.
Nodding, you closed the conversation for the night with a kiss to his cheek, wanting him to be present and take life one day at a time. There was a lot for him to heal from. "Can you at least tell me one thing about what happened out there?" you asked.
"Sure, baby."
"Is it over?"
He took a sip of tea, then exhaled heavily. "It's over."
“And you'll tell me everything in the morning?"
"That's two things." Leon peered out the dark window. "And it's technically already morning."
"Only you could be a smart aleck this early," you teased, ruffling his hair.
He looked back at you. "Only 'cause I missed you. I'd show you just how much, but I'm running on approximately zero hours of sleep."
You adjusted your legs over his lap. "Take me to bed, Agent Kennedy."
He lifted you with ease and headed toward the upstairs bedroom. "That's former Agent Kennedy to you."
You laughed, burying your face in his neck, and the sound of his accompanying laugh nestled deep in your bones, a lovely sound you had dreamt about.
In the quiet of the bedroom, Leon was out like a light as soon as his head hit the pillow. He slept for nine hours, never waking once.
You also slept peacefully by his side, knowing the nightmares and memories of whatever atrocities had happened in Raccoon City couldn’t rupture the resilient life you had built together.
"I am no longer afraid of the world. I have seen the end of it, and I have come back."
A/N: Unnamed daughter, wife and mother reader, husband and father leon, all that fluff. Hope you enjoy!
Leon never knew his life would end up like this.
He was a hundred percent sure that if his life right now were described to him 10 years ago, alone in an apartment he’s rarely home in because of the brutal missions he used to endure, and all that was waiting for him was the bottle of cheap liquor he saved up months prior in the bare refrigerator he maintained—he wouldn't have believed a word of it.
It was a good night—19:00. Standing outside an empty parking lot, the cool autumn night made him shiver as he fisted his hands beneath his coat. The air was thick with the scent of late October. It was like a concoction of damp asphalt, decomposing leaves, and the faint, lingering smell of cheap gasoline from the minivans pulling out from the lot. It was a peaceful atmosphere, and Leon would've considered this a fairy tale and also scoffed in the past.
The community center stood still with him; the glow from the lamps overhead buzzed with a low hum, its shadows sprawling their own business. And to any father or parent waiting for their child, they were just pockets of grey matter where the light can’t reach, but to Leon? They were slabs of nothingness and possible terrors that instinctively want to clear out, a muscle memory that, after nearly twenty years of survival and profession, of his that he never manages to get rid of.
Leon shifts his weight and feels the familiar ache in his knees. He considers them as keepsakes from jumping off from windows while being chased by B.O.W.’s and outrunning explosions. He moves around his cold hands in his coat pockets and feels a sequenced hair tie and a lot of rubbery colored hairbands in one pocket, and a piece of paper–probably a receipt for 2 boxes of grape juice and a chocolate candy he forgot to throw out days ago in the other pocket—a big difference to the textured grip of a revolver or a hollow, gas filled smoke bomb tight in his calloused palms.
The old him would’ve put him on edge as he stood in his parking lot. The deafening silence was usually the calm before the storm, before a scream or a hissing sound of a licker. He can still feel and sense the apartment he used to live in—a box of a small room that never felt like a home. It was a place for his wounds to open, a place for his blood to flow out from his sorrows, and a place to wallow in the shadows of his nightmares until the sun came up. The refrigerator stood in all its empty glory, housing none other than a bottle of bourbon and maybe a jar of ranch that probably expired years ago.
He was a ghost back then. A hollow piece of a man who lived, endured, and survived what the normal man should never feel or see. Leon was the one who shielded the world’s nightmares. He did the cleaning, then when he got back, he rinsed and repeated. For a while, he was actually convinced that this was his life and only purpose. Waiting for the day for some mistake or failure to just take him away–– but no, he hadn’t expected to survive.
And he very much did not expect to be freezing his butt off in front of a children’s venue called “The Fun Ranch”, waiting for his recently turned three-year-old baby, covered in glitter and frosting and letting out giggles as she came running into her father’s safe arms. He wouldn’t have it any other way, though.
19:10. Just in time for the kids to be sleepy after an afternoon of fun, their fathers and mothers wait for them to tug at the hem of their coats, pick them up, and carry them off to their vehicles, go home, and sleep in their little cots.
He was then hit with a wave of warmth, and as the double doors of the hall swung open, a myriad of depleted children’s chaotic energy from the party’s conclusion. All he heard during this time were the dwindling shouts of toddlers, the shushing of parents, and the rhythmic thuds of chairs being pulled back in the background. It was messy, loud, but peaceful to the forty-plus veteran. His eyes saw families emerge from the door, many with sleepy children on their shoulders, and some parents or guardians carrying decorated Barbie gift bags and half-eaten chocolate cupcakes. Even though they were strangers, Leon felt a sense of connection with them.
They were not like him, a seasoned government agent, fully capable of fighting horrors that lurked in the world's evil cocoons, but in this moment alone, they were just like him, making sure that their families were going home safe and sound.
He waits for that cheery, melodic voice and the soft huffs of his spouse, but his mind wanders to his friends. This recently became a habit of his, checking in on them. He first thought of Jill, the one he accidentally fought back in Alcatraz, thinking she was an enemy. He has asked her how she was doing through a correspondence of emails they swapped a few weeks prior. She updated him that she was not doing any missions or anything related to bioterrorism lately. In fact, he was surprised and happy for her when he got the news that she was currently in Europe, somewhere along Sicily.
“I’m on vacation, Leon. Can’t you believe it?”, the email read. He let out a tiny huff, a habit similar to that of his baby’s when he read vacation—that word alone used to be an alien to them, something supernatural. Leon can imagine her sipping on a cocktail while the smell of a wafting, freshly made pizza surrounds her, and all the while enjoying the view. Leon felt relieved for Jill. After the chaos of S.T.A.R.S and Wesker and Alcatraz, Leon found out when she started to choose herself—he felt so, so happy for her.
And Chris and Claire, the two Redfield siblings Leon always respected and bonded with.
Chris, bound by duty and his own ghosts, found a new responsibility, the one that also has some aspects of the same predicament he was currently in, involving lots of kiddy tea parties, learning to braid hair, and whatnot. While Leon knew the story, or maybe the parts that the government didn’t scrap about Ethan Winters' daughter, he knew that Chris took the girl under his wing. Chris is now a guardian, a mentor, and a surrogate father to a little girl, and even though it was a heavy burden raising a little girl with unique powers, Leon can’t think of a better man than Chris—a man who lost so many comrades, brothers, and friends, yet a man who steps up into the role of a father so that a little girl can have a shoulder to cry on, a guardian to struggle homework with, and someone who can guide her abilities to use for the better.
And Claire, he smiled to himself. The same woman who charged into Raccoon City with him, looking for her brother, the woman who can literally charge into anything wearing nothing but a vest and a handy gun if it means she could save a single soul. She can fire a gun, he very well knows that, but he’s thankful for her that her battles were seen in the light—in press conferences, in the halls of government and non-government organizations, and the grueling work in TerraSave. Claire Redfield fought with grace; she did it with determined eyes full of a profound understanding and empathy for the people she committed to save, and for the people who were with her in this fight. She recently sent him a selfie of herself and a community center as the background-he knew that this was the exact center that she said to him that she was helping rebuild somewhere across the world. He noted that she looked a bit tired in the image, but did not miss how her eyes shone bright—a reminder that the world is very much worth saving.
Sherry had been doing well, too. The little girl in uniform that he saved back in 1998 was a grown woman now. She took the worst that her past had given her and turned it into something that helps people, a living proof that they didn’t just survive, but rather, they moved forward and are actually living. Though to Leon, she would forever be the brave little girl he met, and in that moment, he felt a powerful burst of quiet pride, and deep down, he considered Sherry his first daughter, heh.
Then an incisive sadness began to color his thoughts—Ada, his friend and reluctant ally in some circumstances. He now considered her a friend, not only because they had shared a past, but also because she understood what it means to not have someone, with nothing waiting for you at home, and many things that they silently bonded over when they crossed paths, sometimes in bed with their clothes off, sometimes in unknown rundown bars while nursing a drink, sometimes in cold and abandoned alleyways. Leon can’t imagine her in a suburban parking with a minivan waiting for a little cherub of her own, no, that wouldn’t be someone like her, who always leaves a trail of smoke and unanswered questions, no. He hoped for her to find peace in her own, Ada way. He imagines and hopes that she sleeps in a comfortable bed, not being on a run, and not just sleeping with one eye open. He hoped she had someone, or at least a place where she wasn't just a mercenary. He hoped that she found the kind of peace he is currently living in, even if her version has a penthouse in Beijing or Taipei, or a villa in Norway.
“Daddy! Daddy! Daaadddyyy!”
The sound of a high-pitched giggle broke his thoughts. He looks up, just in time to see his baby open the door with her tiny arms (--he wants to tear up, she's already so strong), bursting through the door with a huge grin with two missing teeth on her pristine face. His baby was a small, energetic force of nature, her hair a color similar to his own, her skin very much just like his wife’s beautiful one, much to his wife’s awe when she was a few weeks old and developing, and wearing a dress that she personally handpicked the night before—now covered in blue, pink, and violet shades of frosting. His baby saw him immediately, her eyes brightening up with a pure and heavenly joy to Leon that he reciprocated her look, which made her smile even wider if that’s possible.
“Daddy!” His daughter repeats, running across the cement with the reckless abandon of someone who never had to fight nightmares, and Leon will always make sure of that.
A chuckle escaped Leon as he ignored the protest of his joints and dropped to one knee. He opened his arms wide, and not even a second later, his baby finally reached him, like a small rocket. He playfully scooped her up, all the while getting kissed in the cheek by his daughter. The little girl once again joyfully shrieked as her father nuzzled his stubbly face into her soft lips, “Daaady! That tickles!”
Leon stood up, holding her in his embrace. He adjusted her in his arms, “M’ sorry, peanut. Daddy just missed ya’, that’s all.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck, “It’s okay, I missed you too, daddy!”
Leon adjusted her coat as much as he could. It was already very chilly, and he was worried that his daughter might catch a cold. “Did you have fun, baby?” She then started babbling about a balloon animal that had popped, how big the inflatables are, how yummy the pizza was, and a boy named Lee who ate a lot of cake and turned green, her small arms gesturing while anchoring herself to her father, who she knew would never let her go. After a short while, Leon noticed that her speech started to slur a bit. He cupped a large hand on the back of her head and guided her to lean on him, tucking her in the crevice of his neck and shoulder.
“Let’s go home now, sweetpea?” He tested the waters.
His daughter, very much worn out from the sugar rush, manages a small nod. It was so subtle that if Leon wasn't holding her head on his shoulder, he wouldn’t have felt a thing.
“...Okay, baby.” He pressed a kiss to her hair and subconsciously rocked his daughter, holding her close.
He then saw you walking toward him. He hides a smile, using his daughter’s hair as a barrier; you look exhausted, probably from successfully managing to keep your wild daughter from running like a hungry monkey, your coat harshly slung over, and carrying a bag of party favors and a semi-deflated Disney balloon. When you reached him, you leaned your head against his strong bicep for a brief moment while letting out a long, jaded sigh. Your husband reached out with a free hand and tucked a lock of stray hair behind your ear, then secures his arm around your shoulders, his other strong arm holding your daughter up.
His little family, finally in his arms.
“Hey, congratulations.” He teases you softly, his voice low and warm—only for both of you, “You survived the great children’s party of the twentieth century.”
“....Your daughter is very much like you.” You mumble with a huff and hide a grin, resting against him.
“She’s your daughter too, you know?” He teases back, his hand rubbing up and down your shoulder.
“Leon, Baby has your eyes and admit it, your definition of fun, but make it glitter and less motorcycles.”
He smiles at you, he only does this around you, making your heart skip a beat, “Got me right there, Mrs. Kennedy.”
You smile back, reaching out to card your hands through your baby’s hair, lulling her to sleep after a day of play, “I think there were about thirty toddlers in there. A revolution, but with glitter and some inflatables. You proud, hubby?”
“Very.” He presses a kiss to your forehead.
Leon then stared at his daughter, who was already asleep. He felt a wave of protective ferocity having his family in his arms. He had spent half of his life fighting nightmares no one deserves to see, both human and otherwise, to make sure the world didn’t fall into the hands of the wicked, where every family can live safely, and every child can attend a children’s party and sleep in their father’s arms.
He loves his little family so, so, so much; it sometimes makes him scared. Before, he considered something like this a weakness, a vulnerability, though he knew that it was always something he longed for. And now, it was the only thing that made him alive and wished to reach his hundreds if it meant that he could always make sure his daughter was safe, and had her fill of play.
He remembers the bottle of cheap bourbon in the empty fridge decades ago, he remembers and knows very well the man who would drink it in a night and fish another bottle in the morning, the same man who was waiting for his end while bloodied and wounded in a ditch filled with remains or a laboratory. That man is already in the past, and in this present and his future, it's a man who knew how to braid hair, a guest for his baby’s tea parties, and a man who reads storytime for his daughter to sleep.
As he led his family towards the car—an SUV with a car seat he meticulously researched and meticulously sanitizes five times a week, and a “Baby on Board” sticker Sherry gave as a gift when he revealed the news to his friends that you were expecting, Leon stared at the parking lot. The other parents and guardians were also settling their children into their vehicles, some walking with their still awake children, just in time to catch the last bus home. Leon feels a strange sense of peace and closure. The world will never be rid of its evil and terror, and the fight is still there. Men like Chris and women like Claire, Ada, Jill, and Sherry would always be out there— but right now, Leon has the whole world in his arms; it was you who was currently nuzzling against him, and the steady breathing of his baby against his neck.
He then gently buckles her into the car seat, lingering for a second to adjust her blanket that he keeps in the car, and presses a tender kiss on her forehead. The little one softly moves, murmuring something about “pony cupcakes” and “sparkles”, before being quiet, presumably falling back into a deep sleep. Leon double-checks the security and handles of the car seat before quietly closing the door. He climbs into the driver’s seat and starts the engine, but not before leading you to your side of the car; he’s a gentleman after all. He turns the heater on, the warm air filling the car like a hug, and the glow from the dashboard illuminates the car. He looks over to you, who was looking back and checking your sleeping daughter, the giveaways from the party neatly placed beside the car seat.
You turn to look at your husband, “Let’s go home?”
“Yeah.” He hums, fulfilled. “Home.”
Tires crunching on the road, Leon pulls out of the parking lot. He navigates the route going home, and he catches his reflection in the rearview mirror. There were new lines around his eyes and a bit of silver at his temples—but from the years over since he met you, he didn’t spot a look of fatigue and torment—the only one he saw when staring once at the mirror a long time ago, an ingrained nature. He looks over to his wedding ring, the faint silver reflecting a bit of the light.
He’s just a family man now, and even though he was the one who swore to protect them, he too, feels protected, safe, and loved. And for the first time in his life, he realized that he has finally found it—the happiness and home he had been searching for all his life.
Home is with you, and your little baby girl.
______________________________
a/n:
I hc that Leon calls his kid "baby" eheh
This was my first tumblr post ever (fic/writing-related). Hopefully I'll improve in the long run.
this took me 4 nights WKWKWKKWKWKW---I stopped writing fics last 2020, and I'm still slowly getting back into it!!!
Comments, thoughts, likes, and reblogs are all very much appreciated
《A/N》: I'm back babyyyyyyy. Sort of. I don't know, we'll see. This is inspired by 'Alrighty Aphrodite' by Peach Pit so take a listen if you feel like it!! FYI this can be read for ANY Leon (like most of my Leon fics) I just use RE4R Leon in the banner bc of favoritism <3
~Fi 🐝
(Pssst, my requests are open!)
《Content》: NSFW content. proceed with caution. PiV, cockwarming, creampie (don't do that) consensual groping. Very, very sweet, of course! Lotsa domestic moments with Leon, basically a collection of cute moments I think would happen on your Honeymoon <3
Reader is implied to be chubby/ has stretch marks and tummy fat bc who doesn't???? (I still love you if you don't)
《Word count》: 3.4k
Please don't copy my work! I put a lot of effort and heart into the things I write.
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The, not quite shrill, yet still very annoying sound of your alarm ripped you out of your pleasant dreams. With a soft groan you stirred in the arms of your husband, which you were comfortably pressed against.
After a quick rub of your eyes, a smile formed on your lips as you remembered what day it was.
You turned to face Leon, admiring his peaceful expression for just a moment before you couldn't resist the twitching urge in your fingertips anymore and you gently ran them down the bridge of his nose and over his cheek.
His brows furrowed slightly, and his nose scrunched up at the tickling sensation on his skin.
"Happy one week of being married, baby." You whispered softly, stroking your thumb over his cheekbone.
A dopey grin tugged at his lips, and he pulled you even closer to him with a soft hum. His lips found yours in a clumsy attempt at a good morning kiss.
"My beautiful, beautiful wife..." he mumbled against your lips, making you giggle and melt into his embrace at the same time.
"Can you believe it's been a week already?" You were cut off by yawn that decided to rudely interrupt your sentence.
"No... feels like I just fell in love with you yesterday." He let out a soft breath as his eyes fluttered shut, and he pressed his lips against your forehead, letting his touch linger as he slipped into a moment of comfort and love.
You sighed against his skin, feeling sleep still deep in your bones, but both knew you'd have to leave your shared cocoon of affection sooner than you wanted to.
"We have to get up... we'll miss our flight.." You slurred, fighting the heavy drooping of your eyelids from the warmth that Leon enveloped you in.
He grumbled softly under his breath, something about 'ungodly early flights', which made you crack a grin.
"Alright, up we go.." he groaned, heaving his body into an upright position, with you still securely in his arms, rubbing a hand over his face to get rid of the tiredness that remained in his muscles. With a peck to your nose, Leon stood from the bed, stretching his arms and neck with a yawn.
You crawled up onto your knees, your arms comfortably fitting around the curve of his neck and shoulders as you let your lips find his again in a tender kiss.
"Good morning, my handsome, handsome husband.." You purred, making Leon chuckle.
"Are you copying me, sweetheart?" He asked with a smirk as his hands migrated down to your waist.
"It's the highest form of flattery, don't you know?" You replied with a wicked grin, feeling his fingers dig just a little tighter into the flesh of your waist.
"Yeah, yeah.." he playfully rolled his eyes as you giggled, getting out of bed.
"Come on, we're on a time crunch." You let your hand slip from the embrace of his as you made your way to the bathroom.
He quietly followed you, landing a gentle slap on your ass. You yelped at the impact, jumping forward before turning around with angrily scrunched brows.
"Hey!" You pouted, rubbing the faint red mark on your skin.
"Just crunching time, babe." He shrugged with a cokcy smirk on his face.
You rolled your eyes and huffed some words under your breath, making him snicker.
"Actually, let me help you in there." He declared, reaching you in a few strides and pushing you into the bathroom.
"What- I don't need help brushing my teeth!" You argued, trying to push back against him.
"Who said anything about brushing teeth, huh, honey?" He whispered into your ear, making the hairs on your neck stand up.
"Leon-"
"Whaddaya say we get this Honeymoon started early?" He said against the skin of your neck, trailing soft kisses along the column of your throat.
"No, no, no, we have a flight to catch!" You said sternly, clinging onto the doorframe.
"Oh, come on, baby.. you know how fast I can make you fall apart.." he breathed into your ear, slipping his hands underneath your shirt.
Leon tugged at your middle, firmly enough to make you struggle but leaving enough room if you wanted to back out. With the feeling of his hands on your skin and his breath ghosting deliciously over your neck, you relented, letting your grip on the doorframe loosen.
You gently slipped past the door with him and let out a soft sigh as his lips met your neck once again as the door of the bathroom fell shut.
.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.
With packed bags, an excited attitude about going on your Honeymoon and a couple of new love bites just below the collar of your shirt, you were off to the airport.
You yawned as you watched the few city lights pass by, the streets empty. No surprise, really.
No person would willingly be up and about at this hours, except a few joggers (who were clearly insane) and the poor souls who'd just finished the night shift.
Leon's hand envolped yours tightly, keeping hold of it while the other one was loosely wrapped around the steering wheel, as you sped down the highway.
"Don't rip my head off, but.." he broke the silence, making you turn attention away from the lights flashing past the window, "you've got all the papers 'n documents and whatever we need, right?" Leon asked, slightly chewing on his lip.
You would never let him live it down if you forget your tickets and other papers just because of the desperate morning romp that had occurred because of his neediness. You would curse him to the sun if you'd had to cancel your Honeymoon purely because he couldn't keep his hands to himself.
You chuckled and whipped out a clear folder with a plethora of printed e-mails, copies over copies of important information, and so on.
"Being overly prepared runs in the family." You chirped, waving around the, surprisingly thick, folder. Leon visibly relaxed, a dopey smile gracing his face.
"So that's why the printer ran out of ink." He mused, glancing your way. You shrugged with a mischievous glint in your eyes and Leon chuckled, pulling you into his side to press a kiss to your cheek before going back to driving down the seemingly endless roads to the airport.
.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.
"Airport coffee is truly something... special." Leon forced out, clearing his throat and disapprovingly eyeing the dark liquid in his paper cup.
"That's why you get the good stuff." You sipped your hot chocolate smugly, watching as Leon cracked a grin and pulled you into his side.
"Can I have a sip?" He asked sweetly, nosing your hair. You wordlessly handed him the cup as your head went to rest on his shoulder.
"I'll always share with you." A small smile sat on your lips as you quietly told him.
Leon raised a brow at you with the faintest hint of a smirk.
"I know for a fact, that's not true."
"Oh piss off." You grumbled, breaking into a smile.
"Tell that to the cookies you didn't share. Or the leftover Pizza. And the-"
"Okay, okay! Point is, I'm sharing now." You huffed, making Leon grin.
"Thank you, angel." He hummed, placing a kiss to your hairline.
.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.
You let yourself fall onto the bed with a thump, sighing in relief at the soft mattress beneath you.
"I don't know about you, but I'm ready for a nap." You said, a little mumbled. The bed shook as Leon dropped down next to you, immediately reaching for your hand.
"A nap sounds nice." He sighed, eyes falling shut. You laid in silence and soft breaths for a moment, already starting to doze off. "We could nap by the pool." He suggested, turning on his side to face you. You rolled over in a similar fashion.
"That's just your excuse to see me in a bathing suit and lather me in suncreen." You snorted, poking his chest. He cracked a smug grin.
"Would that be such a crime? A husband wanting to see his gorgeous wife in a bathing suit?" He defended with a smirk, cupping the back of your neck and gently stroking his thumb along your jaw.
"We could get lunch and maybe some drinks..." You thought out loud, weighing your options. You'd either get a good nap and be hungry when you wake up, or you could get a descent snooze plus some lunch, maybe a cocktail and a shirtless Leon.
"Alright, the pool it is." You declared, watching as Leon almost jumped off the bed with excitment.
You both packed a little bag with the essentials; sunscreen, sunglasses, a book, and whatever else you thought you'd need.
Leon was in the bathroom, making a suspicious amount of clattering noises, when he peaked his head out the door.
"Babe?"
"Yeah?"
"Can you wear the blue one? Please?" He asked bashfully, a pinkish tint on his cheeks.
Your expression softened, and your heart melted.
It amazed you how he could straight up ask you to fuck you before your flight, but asking you to wear his favorite bathing suit of yours was flustering him.
"Of course, honey."
.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.
"... Lee."
"Hm?"
"My ass does not need any more sunscreen."
"Just don't want you to get burned." He pressed a kiss to your shoulder while shamelessly massaging sunscreen into the fat of your rear.
"Leon Kennedy, get your hands off my behind before I beat yours!" You scolded, swatting his hands away.
He grinned and raised his hands in mock surrender.
"You can feel me up all you want in private, baby, but not in public."
"I have no idea what you're talking about. I was just doing my husbandly duties and making sure you weren't gonna like a tomato."
"... you're lucky I love you." You narrowed your eyes at him, huffing when he blew you a kiss.
"I love you, angel." He said softly, retreating to his own sun chair.
"I love you too, you cute idiot."
.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.
Your wine glasses clinged together as you sat on the cold stone of your balcony, huddle together with blankets and pillows.
It was a clear night, and a few stars decided to show themselves. It wasn't necessarily cold, but the breeze that passed by did make it a little chilly.
There was the crunching of snacks and the chatter and laughter between bites as you watched the stars and the moon illuminate the vast property of the Hotel.
Other couples might've chosen to fancy up and go out for dinner but Leon and you had chosen to do what you did best; not fit in the box.
Instead of eating way too small portions for an outrageous price while pretending that you felt comfortable in such a posh setting and simultaneously being defeated by the ridiculous amounts of forks beside your plate, you had a cozy evening with the love of your life.
You did splurge on the bottle of wine, but it was your Honeymoon, after all.
The gentle gusts of wind coming up from the coast left goosebumps on your skin and a salty taste on your lips.
"Today was really nice.." You spoke quietly, enjoying the peace of the moment.
"Yeah, I think so, too. Can't wait to spend the next two weeks with you like this." Leon replied in a soft and loving tone that almost fell into a whisper. Your head rested on his shoulder, like it usually did, your hand reaching for his.
The cold metal of his ring sent a pleasant shiver up your spine as you entangled your fingers and curled closer into him.
Leon happily obliged your silent plea for closeness and wrapped you in his arms.
"I know that I won't be able to ever put into words how much I love you, so I want you to know that deeply cherish every moment with you." You looked up at him, and his features softened as he gently held your face.
"I know you do. I can... I can feel it. Is that weird? I just sort of feel the love radiating off of you all the time. I hope you feel that when you're with me as well."
You looked at him like he hung the stars in the sky himself, the same ones you were admiring, and everything in him just melted.
"I do feel it. Not only are you my husband, but you're my best friend too. Two-in- one." You smiled sweetly, scooching further up in his hold just to be that little bit closer.
"I'm so glad that I married you." He whispered, firmly pulling your lips against his in a passionate kiss.
You'd never get bored of the feeling when he kissed you, the love and tenderness pouring from it. But there was a slight ache in your heart that you'd never be able to kiss him enough to quench the raging flames inside your chest.
You pulled away for a breath, with puffy lips and shimmering eyes that showed Leon just how much you truly cared for him.
"That makes two."
.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.
The softness of the bedsheets on his fingertips made Leon brows furrow. He was expecting a different softness; you.
Laying majestically next to him, bathed in the morning sun that poured in, even through the curtains. He lifted his head off the pillow with a disgruntled sound, blinking away the sleep in his eyes to look for you.
There were trickles and splashes of water that gently broke through the comfortably silent atmosphere. There was a slight breeze coming from the open balcony door, making the curtains sway.
Leon made his way to the terrace and, good heavens, the sight before him was enough to make him lightheaded.
You were perched on the edge of the small stone pool that you were extremely excited about ever since you laid eyes on it, skin glistening from the water with your hair intricately stuck to your back.
That would've been enough to make all the blood from Leon's cheeks to rush down south, making his boxers feel tight, but that wasn't all. There were bubbles.
Soft, foamy suds that clung to your hips and the curve of your waist, truly making you look divine with the morning sun shining down on you. Your legs were swishing in the water, taking in the peaceful morning while everyone else was far off in their dreams.
Leon's mouth hung open slightly, and it took every ounce of power in him to stop himself from drooling, but he didn't waste any time sliding the door open further to get through.
The noise made you look back over your shoulder with a soft smile when you saw him striding towards you.
Strong and familiar arms wrapped themselves around you, trying to discreetly feel you up.
"Good morning, honey." You spoke gently, stroking over his forearms that were tightly situated around your middle.
"Absolutely great morning if you ask me." He chuckled lowly, though not failing to press a kiss to your lips with such affection it almost covered any seductive intent behind his words.
"Christ, baby, you look heavenly..." he breathed against your ear, sliding his hands towards your hips to knead at the plush flesh and feel the shimmering grooves of stretch marks beneath his fingertips.
"Thought I'd wake you up with a little surprise for being the best husband a girl could ask for." You replied sweetly, trying to play innocent as if his calloused hands on your wet skin didn't ignite an inferno deep in your gut.
He let out an amused chuckle, slyly moving one hand to the pudge of your belly and the other kneading one of your soft tits.
With a soft sigh, you let your head fall back against his shoulder.
"You look like Aphrodite emerging from the sea foam, do you know that?" He asked gently, making your head spin with the way he was so easily drowning your mind in both lust and affection.
You chuckled, turning on your knees to face him.
"Well, then... will you do me the honors and be my Ares?" You purred, trailing your hand down his chest all the way to his cock straining in his boxers, cupping the member and squeezing gently.
A groan ripped from his throat and his eyes fluttered shut for a moment.
"Whatever you wish, my love." He whispered, guiding you back into the natural stone pool, watching with a ravenous gaze.
His underwear was quickly discarded, and he joined you in the water, backing you up against one of the rounded walls.
One hand on your waist, the other carefully placed on the back of your neck to cushion the hard edge of the stone
. His lips found yours in a loving manner, quite the opposite to his lusting eyes that raked over your naked form, but as much as Leon wanted to devour you, he wanted love you.
He reveled in his love for you. All he needed was to be close to you, as close as reality would allow and if that entailed him buried to the hilt inside your delightful cunt he wasn't one to complain.
Your bodies were pressed together, your tits squished up against his chest, and his dick laying heavy between your thighs. Your lips and tongues danced together like they had done so many times before, eliciting the occasional soft groan or sigh from you and Leon.
The bubbles littered on the water surface stuck to his broad back as you ran your fingers down the length of his spine.
"Can I, sweetheart?" He asked breathlessly, staring at your blown out pupils and puffy lips.
"Mhm, yes, please... need to be closer.." You responded equally as breathless before fiercely capturing his addicting lips once again.
The tip of his cock nudged at your entrance and with a shuddering breath he pushed past your lips and slid snuggly inside of you.
"F-Fuck... my perfect girl... God, I love you so much.." he groaned as quietly as he could, feeling a shiver run through him at the warm embrace of your gummy walls.
He quickly muffled himself by gently biting down on your shoulder.
Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, and you held him tighter, suppressing any sounds you might've made. Leon slowly rocked his hips into yours.
They weren't full thrusts, but they didn't need to be. This wasn't about an earthshattering orgasm that would knock the wind from your lungs, it was about feeling close and loved and his lazy and sloppy movements into your pussy did just that, with an added bit of pleasure.
Leon continued to rock his hips, dragging his heavy cock against your insides just right.
His pelvis hit your clit perfectly with each sloppy thrust, his happy trail adding to the euphoric sensation.
You were seeing stars by now.
Both of you were still sleepy and sensitive from waking up recently so you were at the brink of your edge already.
"Le-Leon.." You managed to get out between quiet moans that you were trying your best at biting back.
The sloshing of the water and his heavy pants were the only things in your mind as you felt the tight coil in your belly snap.
"Love you, I love you..." he slurred as he, too, reached his end. He came inside of you, pulsing against your insides.
The squeal that you felt bubbling in your throat was quickly swallowed by a hungry kiss from Leon.
He supported himself against the stone, catching his breath before he maneuvered the two of you around so you were straddling him, still nice and full.
"I love you so much, Lee." You hummed, your head resting on his shoulder.
"I wouldn't mind if everyday started like this." He smirked, pressing a kiss to your temple when you lazily slapped his arm.
"Mhm, wanna crawl inside your ribcage and live next to your heart.." you mumbled, tuckered out.
He chuckled and gently stroked your back.
"If anyone else said that to me I'd be concerned."
"You put a ring on it." You argued, pulling your hand from the water and holding it up to him.
"Hm, that I did." He hummed, gently taking your hand and kissing your ring.
"And I'd do it all over again."
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I hope you enjoyed <3
(Yes, I'm aware of the bad and weird things that happen between Aphro and Ares, [poor] Hepheastus, man.] Just let me have this okay)
So proud of you for reaching almost 1,5k!’ can i get something for the celebration? memory card 1 and save slot 1 please, im thinking Husband leon coming home from a tough mission and f!reader waking up to take him a nice bath and feed him. Just helping him calm down and come back to earth. Thank you 💪🏼✨
hi anon!! tysm!! ive taken sooo long on this celebration that it’s just the equivalent of regular fic posting now 💀 but!! ty for sending something in!! i have a soft spot for husband leon he is one of my favourites to write so hopefully you like what we ended up with this time <3
husband!leon kennedy x f!reader
18+ MINORS DNI. if you do not have your age on your blog you will be blocked, you must be 18+ to interact with and follow this content.
disclaimers; non-sexual nudity and stripping, very minimal mention of injuries and that’s about it!! this was written while fighting writers block so </3
join the celebration!!
The sound of the front door swinging closed startled you awake. The resonant slam echoed from the entryway through the open door of the living room where you had fallen asleep on the couch with a fluffy blanket over your knees.
You had been waiting for your husband, Leon, to come home following a job in China. You received the news of his return only a few hours previous and set yourself the task of staying awake to greet him despite it being the early hours of the morning already. Safe to say that the drone of whatever crappy tv show you had on wasn’t enough to fight off sleep.
But despite the scare, excitement flooded fast through your veins when you realised he had finally made it back to you.
You hopped to your feet and threw the blanket aside, practically leaping to the doorway and peering around the wooden frame to see him standing there in the dimly cast light, his shoulders rounded and clothes scruffy in a way you rarely see.
"Honey?" you called quietly, slowly stepping into the entryway of your home like the enthusiasm you were holding back would startle him.
Leon looked… dishevelled. His hair was unkempt and his shirt had a layer of grime on it, both things he would usually care to fix but in his rush to get back to the states he cared for neither, there was an open cut on the sharp of his jaw and when you met his eyes there was no spark behind them. But he manages a slight smile for you.
"You're still up?" he mutters, voice scratchy and laden with fatigue. It's not apparent but he feels that bit lighter as soon as his gaze locks on you, the corner of his lip tips up a fraction more and a sense of relief floods him, benumbed to the aches of the injuries he's suffered when you open your arms to him.
"Of course, I was waiting for you." you gently explain, finding no need to mention your brief nap.
He crumbles into your embrace, a heavy head falling to your shoulder and sore arms wrapping around your waist so tightly while he sighs his deepest yet.
"You didn't have to do that." he begins with words muffled against you. "It's late, aren't you tired?" As he clings tighter you find yourself not caring for any dirt he may be getting on you, carding a hand through his hair that's dry with the dust the wind blew at him. You shrug, one hand sweeping up and down his back and offering the most comfort he has known for weeks.
"Only a little bit, not nearly as tired as you, I bet." you say lightheartedly, slowly easing away from the hug so you can take his hands in yours, finding new scrapes and calluses, fresh shades of purple and blue marring his knuckles. Leon mimics your shrug and hums.
"Yeah." he grunts tersely and it's easy for you to see that he isn't feeling like himself when no witty remark follows up.
"Have you been okay on your own? I know it's been a while longer than we anticipated but—"
"I'm just fine, my love. It's you that I'm worried about. Come on."
With his hands still in yours you gradually coax him upstairs, though you could be fooled into thinking that he has aged a decade with how slowly he ascends, a shuffle and a thud for each step.
"How about we get you cleaned up first, yeah? A change of clothes will surely help you feel better." You're telling him more so than offering him, knowing that if the decision was his own he'd fall asleep before anything else, but in his current state he'd only feel worse when he woke up.
He nods as you pull him into the bathroom and squints when the light comes on, grumbling something under his breath.
"Alright, just a quick shower then." he yawns towards the tail end of his sentence and gives you a puzzled look when you plug the drain to the bath, the rattle of the short chain catching his attention. Leon's brows furrow and pull a wrinkle into his skin when you twist the tap and the patter of the water against the bottom of the bath begins.
"Sweetheart, you don't need to do that. It's fine, really." There's a softness to his voice, almost sombre, but you're set firm on doing this for him.
You take a step towards him and shake your head, smoothing the scrunch between his brow with a soft touch of your thumb before cupping his cheek.
"Leon, if you stay stood up any longer I think you'll collapse. Plus, it'll help you relax." He gazes down at you as you bring both hands around the collar of his shirt, unfastening the buttons with lithe fingers. He doesn't bother to try to stop you, knowing the tells of your determination.
"Just let me take care of you, it's the least I can do." No further protests fall from his lips as you unbutton his shirt, pulling it open slowly and noticing that the fabric has stuck itself to his skin in a couple of places. With sweat or blood you're not sure but ripping it free would only make the sting worse no matter what it was, so despite him growing restive under your inspecting gaze you take your time pulling it free.
You feel your breath hitch in your throat as you tuck your hands under the shirt and carefully push it off of his shoulders, expecting to be faced with a sinister wound hiding beneath.
But to your relief you find nothing offensive, there are a couple of grazes and deep set bruises but nothing that requires any amount of panic or hasty patching up.
Your relief must've been palpable too because he lifts a hand to your waist and squeezes softly, a smile on his lips as he says, "I tried to be more careful this time. Hopefully it shows."
You pull the sleeves off over his hands and dump the shirt in a pile on the floor, making a mental note to stick it in the wash come morning. "Thank you, honey. It really does." you mutter, eyes wandering his toned torso just to be sure and you watch his chest rumble with mirth.
"You know I don't do it on purpose, right?" Leon hums, swallowing a gulp as you direct your attention to his trousers, shifting his feet unthinkingly like nervousness compelled him to.
"I know, I know." you huff, a pout on your lips. "But that doesn't make me worry any less." you calmly explain as you unfasten the button to his trousers and tug the zip down, making him shudder.
"It's alright I can—" he cuts himself off with a grunt, replacing your hands with his own and trying poorly to hide how such simple things fluster him. You titter knowingly and step away back towards the bath, your back facing your husband.
"Sorry, my love. I wasn't trying to, I swear."
You earn a small scoff of a laugh for that one, listening to the shuffle of him taking his pants off and leaving them in the same heap as the shirt. "Sure thing, honey." he grumbles, lightening up a little.
It made him a slight timid but any touch of yours was enough to make Leon's blood run warm despite any innocent intentions like the ones you carry now. At least he can blame it on the time you've spent apart, but the truth is that even in such familiarity any brush of your skin against his makes heat roll down the back of his neck and goosebumps prickle up on his arms. It's just what you do to him.
"Recoup some energy first, okay?" You give him a sidelong look and a cheeky smile, pulling your sleeve up your forearm and testing the temperature of the water with a quick dunk of your hand. Just a little bit more cold and it's good to go, so you shut off the tap and give the water a swirl with your arm to even the temperature, ensuring that it's not too hot to immediately sink in to.
For the moment you forgo the use of any fanciful soaps or salts, wanting first to help him rinse down and hopefully avoid irritating any scratches with lather that could aggravate the scraped skin. That and the fact that Leon is awfully stubborn about being pampered. He will occasionally use the odd nice thing for himself but if you tried to use one of your higher end products for him he'd call it a waste. While he's as tired as he is you'll keep it simple and maybe pamper him some more when he's rested enough to appreciate it.
"It's ready when you are." you smile, flicking the droplets of water off your fingers towards Leon. He laughs, short and airy, and sidles up next to you with his shoulders hiked up and jaw clenched. He definitely needs this.
"'Anything else I can get you, my love?" you ask while lifting a hand to his shoulder, encouraging him to roll them back and drop the tension he's holding. He shrugs, testing the water for himself.
"How about something to eat? Or at least a drink?" You don't want to force his hand but hope to encourage him with your insistence, wondering how long it has been since he’s had either. He nods curtly.
"A drink would be nice, please." As soon as you'd offered it he seemed to realise just how dry the back of his throat has become, adam's apple bobbing with a dry gulp.
"Of course, what would you like?"
"Surprise me."
You step out of the bathroom while Leon lowers himself into the tub, hearing a grunt from past the open door and the click of his elbows that goes with it.
You could swear that every time he comes home he brings a new ache with him, not like that of his muscles which can be soothed but rather one that seems to stick around from that moment forward. His knees never used to crack every time he crouched, he never used to wake up with back ache every morning, and he never used to suffer that incessant ringing in his ears.
But what more can you do than attempt to remedy the side effects of the job? You frown at the thought and retrieve a small beer from the fridge, he deserves one today. The cap comes off easy and is kept to one side before you hurry back upstairs.
When you quietly slip back through the door you find him looking at least a little bit peaceful. His eyes are resting closed but the corner of his lips is still down turned, both arms resting on the bath's edge with his back against its shortest end and the water lapping just below his chest and armpits. You hum as you walk in, padding over to the bath side as he slowly blinks his eyes open, although fatigue demands to weigh his lids down.
"Here." You outstretch the hand holding the bottle that’s damp with condensation, passing it off to him. "How is it? Warm enough?"
Leon takes a long, drawn out sip before answering, savouring the heady taste that washes over his tongue and wets his split lips. "Yeah, it's perfect, thank you sweetheart." His voice sounds fuller as he speaks now, the effects of your care becoming immediately apparent.
Well, the beer helped too.
You smile gleefully and take the bottle from his hand, setting it on the thick corner of the bath that often acts like a shelf. "Good, now c'mon you need to do more than just soak." you softly remind him, bringing your hands to your husbands broad shoulders and coaxing him to sink further into the warm water, tucking those clicky elbows back inside the bath and shuffling down until his shoulders are submerged.
Though, the adjustment does mean his knees were now sticking above the water, the tub not quite long enough to house him.
"One second." You hop back to your feet and quickly fetch the shampoo and some body wash from out of the shower, unthinkingly grabbing yours rather than his from the wire shelf. Not that it mattered much, maybe it could benefit him to smell like coconut.
You set the bottles on the floor by the bath and kneel on the bobbly bath mat you've slid to one end, easily reaching over the edge to get to your husband.
"Are you at least going to get your hair wet, then?"
"Didn't realise I had to do everything myself." Leon mumbles jokingly, his simper giving him away as well as his thick sarcasm. You lean forward, head beside his, and drop your hand into the water to splash some towards his face, earning the grouchiest pout you've ever seen from him. But an airy laugh is quick to follow, seeming to fill the air along with the steady steam.
"'Could've at least asked nicely, sweetheart."
He gives you a sidelong look that's all faux disapproval and charm before tipping his head back enough to soak his dirty blonde hair, the layer of dryness and dust already coming loose with the aid of the water.
"How rude of me." you tsk, lips tugged by a matching grin. "Now sit still, please."
Into the well of your non-dominant hand you pour a generous amount of shampoo, sitting up on your knees and smearing it between both hands before bringing them to the back of Leon's head. A low groan falls from his lips as soon as you start massaging the lather against his scalp, deft fingers carding through and cleaning away the reminders of a tough job done.
You comb his hair back over his head and make sure to pay attention to his hairline, checking for any grazes as you go, though there are none to be found. You consider kissing his temple in line with your doting but the cling of the soap makes you think twice.
"Thank you, my love." he mumbles with a beaming smile, jaw finally relaxed and eyes resting closed. You hum, taking your time as some of the lather runs down the back of his neck and floats on the water's surface, glad to see him easing up.
"You can thank me when I'm done, honey." This time you do kiss him, uncaring of the bubbles on your chin.
With palms cupped together you scoop up some water to wash away the suds, Leon's hair looking to be a darker brown with the weight of the water though it unsurprisingly suits him. While you clean him up, gentle scrubbing with fingertips that lack the calluses of his own, he takes another long sip, or rather gulp of the beer.
It was as simple as this. With you a weight was lifted from his aching shoulders and a light, bashful hope set in his chest. It made him feel looser, more relaxed. Fulfilment was not something that Leon knew well, it eluded him in both his job and early life, as if saving the lives of others meant he would never live his own in a way that satisfied the need for a good thing.
For a long time had been unsatisfied with everything. After every mission, every day, it felt as if there was a loose end that needed wrapping up, like he was always anxiously anticipating the next thing and never did he feel as if he could take the in between to just relax.
Until you.
You still baffled him sometimes, such a carefree nature that he always considered dangerous if reflected in himself. But you showed him how to let go, how to enjoy and indulge in passing moments. You showed him an unending amount of patience that he never considered himself deserving of and helped him understand each little thing that he was missing, because without you he never would've thought to listen to the birds sing their loudest every Tuesday, to keep an eye out for the stars each night and sometimes even count them.
You showed him love, the thing he had been missing.
He sighed as he set the beer back down, feeling the threatening sting of tears welling up but with your delicate attentions rinsing him down he didn't fear them. Though, his voice was all a little bit hushed when he spoke.
"Sweetheart?"
"Hm? Is there something you need?" you ask sweetly, rinsing the last of the shampoo and sitting back as he turned to face you, the bath water sloshing with his movement. His eyes were glassy and cheeks dusted rose, a lot more alive than when he stood in the entryway of your home earlier in the night, clean hair pushed back handsomely now baring him to you.
"Yes, actually. Can you join me? I'm sure there's enough room for two."
You scoffed a shocked giggle and shook your head, fingers drumming on his shoulders.
"Well, I suppose it wouldn't hurt to try… Move over."
celebration masterlist || the typewriter
i do not give permission for my work to be copied, translated, fed to ai, or reposted. if you see my works posted somewhere other than here or my ao3 please let me know, thank you.
LEON GETTING AN AT-HOME MASSAGE AND MAKING ALL THOSE PRETTY SOUNDS UGHGHHG WTF...all oiled up and everything...
🌙
🌙 my beloved, my dearest, my clone, yes. i couldn’t be normal about this so instead of a blurb you get a drabble because just yes yes yes to this and even with this i am likely to revisit the idea, a classic but golden scenario none the less <3 ended up with 2k lol
ft. husband!leon kennedy x gn!reader
18+ MDNI. if you do not have your age in your bio you will be blocked, you must be 18+ to interact with and follow this content.
content: no smut but there is suggestive content in this one. Leon receiving massage and some… interesting sounds.
When Leon gets through the front door you can immediately tell that something is up. His jaw is clenched and his shoulders are hiked up, and he has one hand reaching back to cradle the nape of his neck. The look on his face clearly portrays his discomfort as his brows are scrunched in a way that pulls a wrinkle into the skin of his forehead and he's scowling before he even says a word to you.
"You okay, honey?" You walk up to him and with a guiding hand encourage him to bring his arm down. His eyes flick up to find you and go wide for a second, almost like he's been caught, or like the relief of seeing you breaks him out of his achy haze. He sucks in a hiss through his teeth and groans before nodding.
"Yeah yeah, 'm all good. Just stiff." Leon sighs through his nose and you help shuck his jacket off his shoulders, even though he likely doesn't need you to.
"I swear I'm starting to feel older everyday." You hang his coat up in the small entryway and spare a small laugh at him while he toes off his shoes.
"You aren't old, Leon." With your hands back on his shoulders you encourage him to roll them back and drop his stiff posture. Something clicks as he does so and you fight to ignore it knowing he'd use it as an argument to prove himself right. "You just don't take care of yourself."
Now it's his turn to laugh, though it's half hearted and uncharacteristically quiet. "Oh? Do I not?" he quips, his tone dropping to be playfully defensive but even then you can still hear how tired he is.
"No, you don't. So maybe you should let me instead."
You dance your fingers down the length of his arms until his hands are in yours and you slowly back up towards the staircase, trying to allure him to follow. A smirk breaks out on his lips and he raises an inquisitive brow at you.
"Oh I know that look." he titters, watching the way the corner of your mouth twitches with the suggestion of a plotting smile. "What's your plan then, hm babe?"
"Well," you simper, carefully leading him up the stairs with your fingers threaded together. "It's not as fun if I just tell you, so play along, yeah?" You're both falling into a giddy state of hushed giggles now and you're so relieved to see your husband lightening up already, his cheeks handsomely rouged.
"Play along?" he repeats with an airy laugh. "You really are up to no good."
You lead him into your shared bedroom and let go of his hands in favour of wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing his stubbly cheek. His hands immediately reposition on your waist and squeeze the soft push of your body. You continue to pepper chaste kisses along the line of his jaw and feel your heart warm when his chest rumbles with a chuckle, stopping your onslaught just below his ear.
"Wait here."
Leon sighs and pouts exaggeratedly when you sneak out of his hold but waits nonetheless, knowing there's no use in arguing against your cogent instruction. You excuse yourself to the adjacent bathroom and fetch a black towel straight off the radiator, pressing it to your cheek for a brief moment to enjoy its warmth before returning to the bedroom. With a flourish you throw the towel out on the bed and spread out any wrinkles, earning a puzzled look from your husband.
"Take your shirt off and lay on there." you direct him while grabbing the thinnest pillow you have and giving it a quick fluff up. You station it at the top end of the towel with a last firm pat. He sucks on his teeth and looks at you with narrowed eyes and a smirk that suggests some prurient curiosity.
"And why do I need to strip?" he asks lowly, chewing on his bottom lip. You smack him playfully on the shoulder before disappearing back past the bathroom door, your voice echoing from inside.
"Don't be gross! I'm trying to do a nice thing for you!"
Leon scoffs in faux offence and grabs the bottom hem of his shirt. "Gross?" he mimics. "I barely said anything!" As he begins to pull his shirt up your head reappears to peek around the bathroom door frame.
As he hikes the fabric up you get a clear and enticing view of his sculpted v-line and the scraggly brunette happy trail that draws a stripe under his belly button before it disappears below his waistband. He pulls the shirt off with a smooth tug and promptly throws it in your face.
"Quit staring, perv."
The shirt falls into your hands and you play along with a pout.
"Aw, but it was just getting good!" you call back, discarding the shirt in the laundry basket. He chuckles before lying prone on the towel, his back facing up and chest down as he rests his head on the pillow and tucks his hands underneath it, his arms making ‘v‘ shapes either side of his head.
"What a shame." he retorts smugly.
You roll your eyes and fetch out a bottle of bergamot massage oil from the cabinet under the sink. Since you regrettably haven't had time to heat it properly in a bowl of warm water you instead hold it under the running hot tap for about thirty seconds so it isn't overwhelmingly cold when applied. When you return to the room with the oil in tow you are glad to see that Leon has his eyes shut peacefully and almost looks to be falling asleep. But his jaw is still clenched and you can tell by the definition of the tense muscles in his arm that he is far from fully relaxed.
You sigh through your nose and put your knee up on the bed in order to swing a leg over his body, hovering your weight above the small of his back while stationed with a knee either side of him. At this point it's pretty obvious what your tlc plan for him is, after all, there is no hiding things from his sharp sense of sleuthing, so you can forgo the formalities and unprofessionally straddle your 'client' to get the best reach.
The compromising position allows the two of you to be much closer and better connected, amplifying the intimacy of the exchange.
Leon lets out a long breath and you click open the cap of the oil bottle. "'You ready?" you ask while running a hand up and down the length of his back, just soothing the skin and encouraging a couple more deep breaths out of him. He nods and sighs an airy laugh.
"Don't say it like that." he chastises jokingly. You mimic his small laugh and mumble a semi-sarcastic apology under your breath.
"This might be a bit cold." You pour some of the massage oil into your hand, just enough to fill the well of your palm, and set the bottle down on the towel next to him. It's tepid as you rub it between both hands. He hums in acknowledgement and you take that as your go-ahead, bringing your hands to the nape of his neck.
He groans as soon as your hands are on him, just a grumble behind closed lips but it still manages to send a shy shiver rolling over you and you have to push down the butterflies in your tummy.
"That tingles." he murmurs, talking about the oil that makes it feel like the surface of his skin is buzzing. With a thumb either side of his spine you gently glide your hands down the length of his back, stopping just above where you sit. You don't press down hard but rather lean your body weight into the touch to apply a proportionate amount of pressure.
"In a good way?" you ask coyly, rolling your hands around to Leon's hips before gliding them back up his sides. You can feel him going lax under your touch almost immediately and another terse, gravelly grunt passes his lips, intended to be a quick 'mhm' but the sensation of your hands pressing tenderly on his body leads him to stretch out the sound, making it much more salacious.
With your palms sliding up to his shoulder blades you draw slow circles over the muscle to ease out the tense knot of strain there, feeling already that it's where he is harbouring most of his stiffness.
You always strive to show him an overwhelming amount of care in your relationship as it's something his life had previously been bereft of, but as of late you've both been busy in your working lives and there simply hasn't been time for elaborate displays of attention like this until now. This fact combined with Leon's amenable nature that he reserves for your relationship easily explains why he's unravelling so easily in your hands, and while this warms your heart it's making it awfully difficult to concentrate thanks to his vocalisations.
Catching your bottom lip between your teeth to aid your concentration you glide your hands down his back again, working in a 'v' from his shoulders to the small of his back. He seems to be getting quite warm beneath you as you try your best to ease his muscle pain and when you spare a glance at his face you see that his lips are parted and scintillating with spit like he's been biting his tongue, and his cheeks are deeply flushed.
You're surprised that he has yet to squirm, though he does let out another, more resonant groan when you run your thumbs back up the length of his spine.
You titter and try to ignore the goosebumps that prickle up all along your forearms as well as the heat creeping up the back of your neck, because god he sounds so so pretty but that shouldn't be your focus and it certainly wasn't your aim.
"Are you trying to distract me, hm honey?" you chide. Leon hums beneath you and shrugs his shoulders, the oil shining on his skin.
"Nu-uh." he grunts when your hands slide over the tops of his shoulders. "'Just feels good when you do that."
You tsk at your husband and shift your weight from knee to knee, a nervous fidget. Your hands slide back together at the nape of his neck and you repeat gliding them over his shoulders with the same consistent pressure a couple more times to knead out the stiffness. But with the last press and full lift of tension he gives in and moans.
It's a rich sound, heady and shaky with the way his voice cracks towards the tail end of the vocalisation, and it makes your skin itch with something hot. You swallow the lump in your throat and soothe a couple strokes up his biceps before patting his shoulder blades to signal the end of his massage. He grumbles in complaint when you shift away from him and stand from the bed, a pout returning to his lips.
"'Done already?" he frowns, looking at you with that sickly sweet gaze that tells you the whole event has left him feeling a little fuzzy in the head. You mimic his frown mockingly before nodding.
"Sorry love." you simper. "But I've got to wash this oil off my hands before it bakes into my skin."
"And does taking care of me not include washing the oil off me too?" he retorts, smugness quickly returning. As much as you can assuage his worries, tenseness and stresses you don't think you can ever take Leon's bravado away from him, and why would you want to? Things would be awfully boring around here without it.
You roll your eyes for the umpteenth time today, watching him rise from the bed with much more ease than when he had laid down.
"Just get in the shower." you scoff. "You need one anyway. Stinker."
Stepping back he lifts his hands to shield his heart as if you'd just shot right through it, shaking his head slowly before smirking.
"Alright alright, but won't you join me?" he offers, voice lilting with something sultry. "It's only fair if I get a turn to take care of you too, babe."
What you had failed to tell him is that the massage oil would evaporate off his skin in a couple minutes time, but the shower water was already running much sooner than that…
leon masterlist || navigation
i do not give permission for my work to be copied, translated, fed to ai, or reposted. if you see my works posted somewhere other than here or my ao3 please let me know, thank you.
Hey, dear!! I hope the bad mood will go away soon. What about a fluffy fic in which the reader and Leon have a peaceful day to themselves, rotting on the couch in each other's embrace as they watch their favorite movie? I love you and your writing!💗💗💗
mai!! oh my goodness i didn’t realise it was you and it took me much longer than it should’ve to notice- im sorry lovely!! thank you for your patience and i hope some short fluff is welcome today :)) ily <3
ft. husband!leon kennedy x gn!reader
content: nothing but some domestic fluff, 1.3k <3 please excuse any errors!
The quilt thuds behind your heels as you descend the stairs with it lazily thrown over your left shoulder, dragging behind you like a cape in a game of pretend. Today had been a very weary day, you woke up rather late and it was already mid afternoon by the time you got out of bed. And even then you left it unmade before stealing the covers off of it to haul downstairs.
There was no strict reason for why today had been so slow, sometimes you just deserve a long morning in bed and an even longer afternoon on the sofa, which you were already on your way to.
It had been your husband's idea to finally crawl out of the comfort of the sheets after hours spent in a tired haze of tangled limbs and the occasional kiss when you each snapped out of your sleepiness. Partly because the back of his throat had run dry and he kept complaining about needing a drink, and partly because his legs were going that tingly kind of numb from disuse.
Knowing it was probably best to at least move the location of your laziness you followed him and got to your feet, having watched him hover in the doorway before smiling.
"How about you go sit on the couch and pick a movie? I'll grab us something to drink and meet you there, sweetheart." Leon said, his voice mused by fatigue.
You nodded a quick 'sure' and listened as the padpadpad of his footfalls grew quiet when he disappeared downstairs.
In your reluctance to leave the safe haven of your shared bed you first threw a couple of your pillows down the stairs unceremoniously. They toppled head over heels before crashing together in a pile waiting just past the last step that you now approach.
Socked feet finally meet the rug of the hallway and you clamber to gather the pillows in your arms that are already cluttered by the tail end of the quilt. It's a bit of a cumbersome arrangement and you can't see your feet past the bulk of bedding but with careful steps you make it to the couch and immediately drop everything in a heap on the cushions. Then drop yourself front first onto the whole lot right after.
An amused chuckle from the doorway beckons your attention and when you look over your shoulder Leon is standing with two mugs in his hand. One is an off white colour with daisies decorating the outside and a dark green rim, and the other is a light blue with faded text that once read 'What's hotter? Me or my coffee?' and a chipped handle.
"Don't tell me you're just going to leave it like that." he scoffs playfully, striding in and setting both mugs onto the low table beside the sofa; on coasters of course, he's not barbaric.
"What do you mean?" you retort, feigning ignorance and sluggishly rolling over, barely avoiding a fall. "I think it's perfect like this." Your head lolls back onto a pillow with a muted puff and he raises his brows, giving you that unbelieving look as he crosses his lean arms over his chest handsomely.
"There's no room for me, honey. Are you trying to tell me something?" The look on his face softened then, with his bottom lip pushed out in a pout and his gaze losing the sharp edges to become something honeyed and lovesick. You mimic his frown and grumble in complaint of his teasing.
Throwing your legs over the edge of the couch you surge forward and wrap your arms around his waist, pulling Leon forward so he has to catch himself with a hand on the arm of the lounge while the other rises to cradle the back of your head.
"Mm, no." you mumble into his t-shirt, your nose pressed flat to his midriff. "You can sit with me if you put the movie in."
His laugh bounces through your ears like the sweetest melody and shakes your body with the force of his happiness, making something giddy bloom in your chest. You tip your head back and lean your chin against him instead, overjoyed to find that he’s already looking down at you, the apples of his cheeks pushed plump with his smile.
"Oh really?" He cards a hand through your hair before tenderly cupping your jaw, his thumb tracing your bottom lip. You lean into the warmth of his large palm and nod.
"So we're finally watching one of your dvd's instead of letting them gather dust?" he remarks and his smugness isn’t lost on you. You roll your eyes and draw back, letting your hands run down his sides and around his hips, then toying with the drawstring on his pyjama pants.
"They're not dusty." you shrug idly with a click of your tongue. "You're just never home enough to watch them with me." Leon grabs your wrists as you say that, thumbs running carefully along the skin as he crouches in front of you. His knees click and you both wince.
"Well I'm sorry, sweetheart. But I'm making up for it now." he retorts ever so earnestly. "What do you want to watch?"
You smile bashfully and lace your fingers with his, squeezing his hands. "I was only teasing, love. I know you're home as much as you can be." And you mean it.
It's no secret that Leon is a busy man, that these walls often feel empty in the weeks without him. But that's what makes today so precious. You have him all to yourself, all day, and you don’t get that nearly as often as you'd like. Your husband simpers and lifts your hands, peppering doting kisses over your knuckles.
"I know, I know." he hums. The two of you share a glance that means to say that there's no need to dwell on that today, that the words are better left unsaid. Rather it's one of those things that has always been a mutual understanding that doesn't require any long conversation or worse, tears.
"But you didn't answer my question, sweetheart. What do you want to watch?"
"Casper, please."
Standing tall again he kisses the backs of your hands before letting go to search the shelf. "Your wish is my command." he winks and you can't help the unsurprised sigh that escapes you.
You get to your feet with a groan and reorganise the mess you'd made on the couch, propping the pillows from your bed up against the back of it with Leon's on the leftmost side so that he can reach the mugs without stretching too far.
Within the minute he has the movie up and ready to go, idling on that familiar title screen that floods you with nostalgia. He grins and hands you the remote before sitting beside you. With his back against the couch you tuck under his arm and throw your legs to sprawl over his lap, his hand resting on your waist. His fingertips encourage the edge of your shirt up and you shudder when the pads of his fingers meet your skin, though his touch is never unwelcome. Your head falls onto his chest and he drags the quilt over your legs, turning to kiss your temple softly.
"Ready to go?" he asks, reaching with his other arm to pass you your mug. You swap it for the remote and he simpers.
"Mhm." you beam, cradling the warm mug in both hands. A quick peek over the rim reveals the sweet promise of rich hot chocolate inside and you light up with an even more endearing smile that melts your husband down to putty.
"Why'd you pick this, anyway?" he asks unthinkingly, hitting play in the same breath. You titter and steal a glance at him.
"There's a character towards the end that looks like you." you comment, taking a sip that makes your lips tingle. He seems glad to hear that, smirking proudly.
"Oh really? An important character I presume?"
"Mhm, the main one."
"I thought the main character was the ghost?"
"Just wait, honey. Just wait…"
leon masterlist || navigation
i do not give permission for my work to be copied, translated, fed to ai, or reposted. if you see my works posted somewhere other than here or my ao3 please let me know, thank you.
AAA KISS PROMPTS!!! 42 with leon please 💙 he is the one crying following a nightmare maybe? classic leon scenario but i can’t get enough of it and wanna see ur take thank you!
thank you so much for requesting a prompt!! I hope you like this <3 tho be warned it was written by a sick me
ft. husband!leon kennedy x gn!reader
content: 42- kissing away tears, nightmare about intruders abduction and kidnapping, described state of hysteric panic, classic hurt/comfort type stuff
Leon woke with a jolt, a pained gasp tearing out from his chest. He bolts upright and his hand flies to cover his heart, feeling its racing beat running wild under his sweaty palm, the same tone that rings loud in his ears and blocks out all other sounds like a deafening siren.
It's almost similar to the way they ring when an explosion goes off in his vicinity, an unfortunately common event, but the difference is that it's now that he is filled with more dread than he ever has been in those scenarios. Maybe it's because he's in his own home, made vulnerable by sleep, and because the most important part of him that he was supposed to protect rests here.
But they took you. They took you and he couldn't stop them, and while he knows it isn't real and he knows it's a cruel trick from deep in his own mind he panics like it was true. Because it felt so real.
They swept in while you both slept and abducted you from beside his slumbering figure. The commotion should've woken him, caught his attention in time for him to intercept but it didn't at all. It's as if he didn't hear a single thing. Why didn't it wake him?
It's precisely that notion that makes him fall into hysterics. The possibility of that becoming reality and the fact that it isn’t so far fetched, the idea that he would fail to protect you when you needed him the most.
He can feel himself spiralling now and the tears just don’t seem to stop, they make his chest heave and it feels like his throat is closing up and—
"Leon?"
A sleep mused, timid whisper of his name fills the darkness, coming from his left side.
You had begun to stir when he woke up because in his hurry to rise he had ripped himself away from your embrace, a sudden movement that had shaken you somewhat and crept past your fatigued haze, alerting you.
Your name falls from his lips in a raspy whisper, broken up by the sobs that wrack him. Leon is quick to turn and desperately reaches out for you in the blackness of your shared bedroom, his panic yet to cease even a little. You grumble when his hurried touch finds you and he grasps desperately at your arm in his blind haste, forgetting his own strength and squeezing a bit too hard.
"Honey? That you? You okay?" his questions come fast and breathless, choked between sniffles. The distress in his voice instantly pulls the wool away from your eyes and you're able to realise what has unfolded.
It's not the first time this has happened, that he's had an awful nightmare like this, and that's okay. The moment itself is scary but you know you can see him through this if you just wake yourself up a bit.
You hiss through your teeth and place your hand over his own, trying to ease his urgent touch so you can sit up beside him. Your other hand finds his face in the darkness and gently cradles his cheek, your heart dropping when you feel the damp of the tears on his skin.
"Oh, Leon." you sigh, words strained through the nervous lump in your throat. You force yourself to push your anxieties down for his sake, knowing that if you panic that will just reflect in him.
"It’s me, we're okay. Can you tell me what's going on, my love?" Just the sound of your voice alone is enough to begin to bring him down from his hysterics, though the heavy tears still flow hard and fast.
He shakes his head ardently, trying to muster the right words but only a wrecked sob follows.
They were here, in his house, in your home. What if they still were now? What if the nightmare had some truth to it? What if it was a warning of what's to come? The thought itself has him crumbling further and he's so out of it that he almost can't feel your hand on his face.
"Leon? Honey?" He's shaking under your touch and it takes all of your effort not to raise your voice to try to get through to him. Instead you pull back just a little to turn on your bedside lamp, tugging the pulley cord that hangs from its bulb.
The sight you're greeted with is heart shattering. Leon's cheeks are tear stained and puffy and his eyes are sore and red, his lash line wet with those that continue to fall. His bottom lip is quivering and his hair is a mess from where he has evidently tugged through it in his distress. And the look on his face, oh that look. His features are all scrunched thanks to his crying and the knot in his brows pulls a deep wrinkle into the skin that you instinctively want to reach out and smooth down.
You wonder if your concern makes you look just as upset, but that must not be the case as the tension drops from his hiked shoulders as soon as he can see your face. Unharmed and as gorgeous as ever. He takes a deep breath.
"Fuck." he curses, voice broken and trembling in a way that breaks you down to his level. "I— Fuck m’sorry." he sniffles, his heart still pounding wildly against his ribs. "I saw, I swear I saw…"
Carefully he grabs your wrists, pressing his thumbs against the inside of them to feel the line of your pulse. It's not as calm as it should be but it's far better than his own and he hopes that by feeling yours he can pace his own in time with it.
Leon again shakes his head, hair falling scruffy and sleep mused, giving up on the words that fail him. You don't know what to say either, how can you with something like this?
Yes you've been here before, but this isn’t the type of thing where you can tell him it's all just a dream and then everything will be all alright and fix itself. You both know it was just a nightmare that he had, that it wasn't real, you don't even need to know what he saw behind his eyelids to tell him that much.
But it isn't about whether it was real or not. No, instead it's about the fact that it was real enough to disturb him so greatly like this,. It's the fact that his mind would even create that image and it's the thought of what that says about him. You know he feels guilty about his nightmares and the cruel things his brain conjures up, so what he really needs from you now is normalcy and reassurance. So that's what you give him.
"I know," you start in a delicate whisper, lifting a tentative hand to his shoulder to coax him back against the headboard. He shuffles his hips back and relaxes as best he can against the wood, allowing himself to be lead by you.
"It's all alright now, I promise."
You throw your leg over his lap and slowly seat yourself in the cradle of his hips, hoping the closeness will comfort him. And it does, he can feel his heart rate slowing down to where it should be resting as he wraps his arms under your own and pulls you forward so you're nearly chest to chest.
Your hands again find his tear stained cheeks, with your pinky fingers hooking under his jaw and thumbs drawing soothing circles over his cheekbones.
"See?" you smile, all soft and honeyed. "It's okay, I'm okay, we're okay."
Leon squeezes you tight in his embrace but you're able to pull back just enough to pepper sweet kisses over the apples of his flushed cheeks, disregarding the slight saltiness that clings to your lips as you do so.
He titters just quietly, still at a loss for words but he's coming down from his hysterics steadily. His head feels all the fuzzy now as you've lulled him into a state in which he can let go of all the tension and panic he had held up in his body, and god he is so grateful. So grateful to have you here to soothe and reassure him, so grateful that you're okay, you're both okay, and so grateful to get to call you his despite hiccups like this.
Leon drops his head onto your shoulder, exhausted, and attempts to pull you closer still. He presses a shy kiss against the junction of your neck and shoulder and hums against your warm skin.
"Thank you." he murmurs, his lips never leaving you. You kiss the top of his head as best you can and wrap him up in your arms.
"I love you." you whisper like it's a secret.
You can feel him smiling against you when he says, "I love you too."
prompt list || leon masterlist
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there is a lot that could be said for this but i’ll save it for another day, for now let’s just have a beach day with husband!leon <3
part of me so desperately wants to see this man acting like an absolute dad at the beach. you already know he’s got the classic, thick black ray bans and the sun cream on his shoulders isn’t quite rubbed in properly. he’s wearing navy swim trunks, the kind that have some kind of weird repeating pattern on them like flamingos or tropical flowers because it’s so hard to find just a plain pair anymore, and they’re slung dangerously low on his hips.
he doesn’t bring much with him, he’s got his towel, the book he’s current reading, a bottle of water and a foldout camp chair that he carries under his arm. the rest is left to you and your handy little beach bag. the two of you set your towels down in a spot off to the side to keep some distance between yourselves and where the rest of the vacationers station themselves on the sand, then leon guns it for the water.
you don’t join him immediately but instead happily watch on from your spot on the shore as he wades into the sea, first standing at its edge and letting the waves roll in over his feet. he doesn’t swim out far, just enough that his feet leave the seabed and he can be free of the sensation of seaweed below him, and as soon as he’s happy with where he’s at he turns around and waves at you, big and goofy. you can’t help but laugh while you watch him lay flat on his back, floating on the waters surface with his arms and legs splayed out like a starfish to keep himself up.
leon seems content like that, letting the little waves bounce him while the water laps at his neck and shoulders, a calming embrace. seeing that he’s alright with his nose up to the sky you lay yourself down on your towel and close your eyes, basking in the sun and maybe even hoping for a tan. but it’s not long, maybe ten or twenty minutes, before you’re interrupted by water dripping onto your skin.
you wince and grumble a complaint, unsurprised to find leon hunched over you when you open your eyes. he’s leaning over you with his hands on his knees and his hair is soaked through, dripping seawater on you and even more droplets of it cling to his skin and run along the sharp of his jaw from his hairline. “do you mind?” you ask, unimpressed. he stands tall and pushes his wet hair back, resting his sunglasses on top of his head to hold it. “no, actually i don’t.”
he lazily dries himself with his towel before setting his chair up, the ultimate beach must have for dad-like men, and sitting himself down to read for the rest of the afternoon spent in the sun. if he’s lucky he’ll get the book finished by the time you’re ready to leave, but if he’s realistic it’s more likely that leon will fall asleep with it in his hands at some point and wake up to it laying on his tummy…
