“Why do we have to do this?” he spoke, sitting on the toilet seat with you on his lap. You gently slid the razor against his foamed skin, making sure not to nick him. “It won’t kill you to shave every now and then, sweetheart. You’re a hot, old man, not a hot, old man,” you scoffed. “Besides, I don’t want it getting too long. I like the stubble,” you angled the razor again.
“Of course you do,” he grumbled. You gave him a grin and pecked his lips, sipping off the excess shaving cream. “We’re done. Look at you! All so smooth and young again,” you cupped his cheeks, pinching them teasingly. He glanced at himself in the mirror, a new, anxious glint in his eyes.
You sighed and your smile became reassuring and sympathetic, “We can’t change the past, Leon. Though, you can’t keep running from it either.” You redirected his focus to you, “I get why you don’t like it.”
He scoffed, “And why don’t I like it?”
You frowned.
“Because you still see the twenty-one year old back in Raccoon City in the mirror.”
He paused at your words. They had hit him deep within. Grazing a hatchet he claimed he had buried decades ago.
Sighing, you came up behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist as you pressed your forehead against his back. You stood there quietly, hugging and giving him comfort before speaking, “You can’t hide from yourself, Leon.”
You felt his hands shakily cradle yours, silently keeping you there, “I want to. I really fucking want to.” Your grip tightened around him as you listened. “I know I can’t,” he whispered.
“Don’t worry,” you whispered against him. “I’m here for you. I’m always here for you, sweetheart,” you mumbled reassuringly.
“It’ll be okay. You’ll be okay.”
Leon shakily stared at the ruins of RPD in front of him, hearing your words echo through his mind like a constant chime. The past was hitting him hard, and you weren’t there to physically talk him through it.
His hand shakily dug into his pocket, staring at a crinkled photo of you two together. His breathing evened out as tension turned into determination. He wasn’t going to give up now.
He was going to come back to you. Even if it meant chasing his past to hold you again.
Pairing: Cat hybrid Leon Kennedy x female reader (leaning more towards platonic)
Summary: Kitty shenanigans with owner.
Word count: 1,514
Notes: Please, don't cancel me for writing a hybrid fic. 😭 Fic inspired by this fanart. Also, thank you to every fantastic Leon hybrid picture and fic that has been made before me. You guys are amazing!
Warnings?: If he's a little OOC, it's just because of the kitty qualities I'm leaning into.
Well, here I am, documenting all of my most memorable moments with Leon. I should probably start with some backstory, though, huh?
You don't remember how Leon came into your life. One day, no cat hybrid. The next, he was living with you. An absolute troublemaker, but you love him. Life is brighter with him around and less lonely. You think he was lonely, too.
He was just sitting outside of a bar, butt on the concrete sidewalk in the pouring rain. His cat-like ears were soaked and plastered to his disheveled hair. He looked numb, a blank stare on his otherwise handsome face. Then, you caught his soft, feline tail curled on his lap in such a sorry state that you just had to do something.
"Finally, you're home. I'm starving." The grumbling penetrates your ears and knocks you straight out of your reminiscing. Your purse hits the kitchen counter, and your jacket goes on the tall chair next to it.
"You know, Leon, you're perfectly capable of making dinner yourself." You explain simply, and his tail bristles slightly. He's leaning against the counter, watching you with his arms crossed.
"I don't want to. Besides, you cook better." You give the hybrid narrowed eyes, but he just offers you a bored expression. Completely unfazed by your annoyance. Oh, yes. This seems very familiar. Leon hates cooking but still has the audacity to be snippy when he isn't fed on time.
You roll your eyes at the big kitty hybrid, tail flicking with disdain, the whole nine yards. "You're ridiculous," you sigh, and yet you get busy making dinner. And NOT because Leon asked for it, but because you're hungry.
You catch the corner of his lip quirk up in a hidden smile, mostly hidden anyway. He settles on a tall chair by the kitchen island, feline tail laid across his lap. You throw noodles into a pot and start cooking up some chicken with seasonings.
Occasionally, your eyes will catch on Leon, and you'll notice his pupils dilating. He keeps licking his lips, nostrils flaring, and fluffy ears twitching. Yes, Leon has a very serious addiction to chicken. Thank goodness for it because an addiction to some kind of seafood would cause a huge dent in your wallet. Well, at least here where you're living.
"Alright, grab a plate and dig in." You command your grumpy hybrid while mixing the noodles, sauce, and seasoned chicken. You jump when you turn, coming face to face with him. He's up on you at the stove. Pretty baby blue eyes blown wide and holding out a sunflower yellow plate.
"You act like you haven't eaten in fifty years." You grumble, rolling your eyes. You fill his plate while his tail points to the sky in happiness. "What do you say?" You raise an eyebrow in a silent reprimand.
He huffs, giving you a dirty look but mumbles a 'thank you' under his breath. You giggle, slapping a kiss on his cheek before he walks away. He rubs the kiss off on his broad shoulder, but it doesn't wipe away your smile.
Another annoying yet endearing thing about Leon is his love of clean clothes. Which you wouldn't think would be a problem, but it truly is. Purely, cat instincts take control.
It was a casual Saturday. You had been putting off laundry but no longer had an excuse to do so. So, you got busy. Pulling out clean clothes and folding them into separate piles. When, all of a sudden, your kitty comes striding in.
Without even a simple hello, he flops onto your bed. His long, lean body sprawls over the clean linen, and his tail dances in the air. "Leon," you whine and shove his side. Yet he doesn't move an inch. He just burrows further, ruining your laundry. Low purrs escape him, and his cat ears flutter when they brush against a pile of folded shirts.
You sigh deeply, annoyed yet unable to be angry with the cute kitty. You lean forward and start scratching at the base of his fuzzy ears. They flick merrily, and his purrs become louder.
For awhile, that's all you do, enjoying his purrs and petting on his cat-like features. A few times, you even reach further, stroking his agile tail. Fluffy, soft, and the same shade as his full head of hair.
Then, you ruin it. "You're so cute." You coo at the man, voice going high in pitch.
"Am not." He replies instantly, ears flicking with irritation and pushing himself up. He leaves behind wrinkled clothes and flattened piles.
"Awww, Leon. Come here." You giggle and scramble off the bed as he walks away. "Leon, come back." You make kissy noises, following behind his broad frame. You knead at his shoulders, and his tail flicks in an indignant manner.
Leon ignores you, continuing to walk. He reaches the living room and heads straight towards his armchair. It's positioned by the window, sun beams often warming up the cushion.
You cup his cheeks when he sits down, too late to yank away from your touch. "I love you, Leon." You place a big kiss right between his furry ears. His tail raises up, and pink colors his cheeks. You grin wider than ever when he replies with the same sweet three words.
Another time, the two of you went to a birthday party. It was for a friend's daughter. Tons of kids, and you thought Leon might secretly enjoy it.
When you walked into the house, you hugged your friend, her familiar vanilla scent washing over you. You introduce her to your shadow, Leon. He's as polite as can be, shaking her hand. Though, you see his ears shift this way and that. There's plenty of conversations between adults and children's excited squeals that he must be taking in.
You get swept up helping your friend with the food, and you send Leon to place the gift you got the young girl on the presents table. It's nearly an hour later when you get the chance to look for your loyal hybrid.
You finally find him in a quiet corner of the house. There's a couch for two, and Leon is sitting with a little girl next to him, perhaps a friend of the birthday girl's. She's stroking his tail, and his head is tilted, welcoming scritches behind his pointy ears.
His low purrs fill the space and warm the air. The girl giggles, copper curls bouncing. Her adorable, chubby hands brush over his tail. "Kitty cat." She exclaims with clear joy.
Her dad comes walking in, "Alright, sweetie. Let's leave the hybrid alone." Leon straightens up, breaking out of his trance. His ears flutter rapidly. "Sorry for that, sir."
"It's fine." Leon clears his throat. The red-headed girl waves goodbye, and Leon returns it. All you can do is smile, but you're definitely melting, heart full of love.
That's your good hybrid. A good man and the most adorable kitty. You approach him, "You wanna get some food before Chelsea opens her presents?"
Leon lights up at the promise of food and stands up, ready to follow you anywhere. "Of course. I'm always starving." He smirks as you both take off for the food tables in the backyard.
"Hungry, hungry boy." You tease, reaching up to ruffle his thick hair.
"Stop." He groans, slapping at your hand. You reply with laughter and bump his shoulder with your own.
"You're annoying." He rolls his azure eyes but can't keep back a smile.
"What are you doing?" You ask in utter bewilderment. Just another late night. Another moment where you question why Leon is the way that he is. Why is this even a cat trait?
He's lying on his back in the middle of the living room floor. A grown-ass man sprawled out. His graceful tail wiggling and his fluffy ears flicking. He's purring and rubbing against the carpet.
Leon blinks up at you lazily, but doesn't stop. His hands curl on his chest. There's a soft v-neck shirt and jeans clothing his toned body.
You snort and shake your head. You walk away, getting a glass with your favorite drink filling it to the brim. When you return, he's still there basking in his cat behaviors.
Putting the glass down on a side table, you come back to Leon with a little shrug. Why not, right? Maybe he'll like it. You crouch over him and start rubbing his tummy like you would with a simple house cat.
While you're smiling, his body stills and his purrs evaporate. "What are you doing?" His brows are furrowed, and he's frowning at you.
"Well, I just . . ." You startle as he gets up, leaving you on the floor.
"Weirdo." He mutters under his breath, tail swaying as he disappears around the corner. Now, you look like the fool. Crouching in the middle of the living room with your mouth hanging open in shock.
Having a cat hybrid is no walk in the park. But you wouldn't trade it for anything.
🐈🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐈
Divider credits: @kodaswrld
I did it!!!! It has been written! I really thought this would suck but I think it turned out pretty cute.
Leon S. Kennedy is the type of man to kiss you after going down on you.
He doesn’t bother to clean your juices from his stubble beard that is shining from the mess you made of him, there’s no point. You were going to make a mess of him again, anyways.
He can’t complain, thought. Leon likes it when you go a little crazy when you taste the tangy, salty flavor of yourself when he kisses you.
He loves it when you moan in approval and push his head closer to your mouth, desperate to taste more, to be closer to him.
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