Abbiiii

𓏲ּ𝄢 : Vendetta!Leon x Ex-gf!reader

Leon seems reluctant to cooperate with Chris and Rebecca. Maybe you can help?

Do you take Request? (3/4/2026)

Uh, for now. Not yet ^^,

Do you do any genders for reader?

I only do female!reader.

How about Female characters?

The chilly morning air wrapped around you, sneaking through your blankets even though winter hadn’t officially hit yet. With a groggy groan, you rolled over, reaching out for some warmth. But instead of finding Chris next to you, your hand brushed against the cold, empty sheets. You let out a sigh. He must’ve gotten up early. 

You stretched your arms and legs, shaking off the sleepiness, and sat up as a chill ran over you. Automatically, you wrapped the soft blanket tighter around yourself, trying to block out the morning cold. After a big yawn, you swung your legs off the bed, feeling the cool floor send a little chill up your spine. As you quietly made your way to the kitchen, you hoped to catch a glimpse of Chris, his familiar figure holding a hot cup of coffee.

As you looked around the room, your gaze landed on Chris, lounging on the couch. The flickering light from the news broadcast highlighted his face, and the rich scent of his steaming coffee filled the air, sitting on the glass table in front of him. He caught sight of you and flashed a warm smile. “Mornin' honey…” he said. 

“Chrisssss,” you whined, as you hurried across the room. The soft blanket trailed behind you, pooling on the floor. You quickly settled in next to him, your legs fitting snugly against his thighs, searching for warmth. 

“Hey—” he grunted, feeling the sudden weight of you as you plopped down onto his lap. You nestled your head into the crook of his shoulder, and he couldn’t help but notice the chill of your legs against his thighs. “Damn your cold legs,” he muttered. He shifted slightly to accommodate your warmth against his side. 

"And wow, you're really warm," you said, sinking into the cozy heat coming from him. That warmth wrapped around you like a comfy blanket, making it easy to forget about everything that happened during the day. You could feel his big, gentle hand on your waist, calming you instantly. 

You could feel his eyes on you. “Good morning, hun,” you said softly, still focused on the pan sizzling in front of you. The sounds of breakfast filled the kitchen, but his footsteps brought a little shiver down your back. When his strong arms wrapped around your waist, you jumped a bit, caught off guard by the sudden hug. He rested his chin on your shoulder, and a giggle slipped out as you felt all warm and fuzzy.

“What’s got you laughing?” he mumbled sleepily.

“Your stubble tickled me,” you replied with a grin while turning off the stove. With a playful smile, you spun around to face him, taking in every little detail of his face. His tired eyes showed it was still early, and his scruffy beard was definitely due for a trim. It added some rugged charm to his look. 

Your fingers brushed over his face, feeling the roughness of his stubble. You can clearly see small cuts on his jaw that need cleaning. “I think it’s time for this to go…you'll get an infection,” You said, your eyes locked on his. “When’s the last time you did something for yourself?” you asked, your tone playful but with real concern. He looked at you for a long moment. “...I don’t really keep track,” he finally confessed, a bit sheepishly. You couldn’t help but laugh a little at that. “Yeah, I figured,” you replied with a grin, giving his cheek a gentle pat like you were nudging him to think about some self-care.

-

Chris sat comfortably on the closed toilet seat. In front of him, you sat on a small chair. You reached for the shaving cream, squeezing a small amount into your palm and rubbing your hands together to warm it.

“Hold on,” you murmured, your voice softening as your fingers tilted his chin slightly. “You’ve got cuts here.”

He barely reacted, just a quiet exhale as you carefully dabbed at one of them first, cleaning it before moving on. Only when you were satisfied did you start working the cream into the stubble, slow and deliberate, making sure to be gentle around the irritated skin.

“Try not to move,” you said quietly.

“Wasn’t planning to,” he muttered, though his eyes had already fallen shut, his head tipping back just a fraction as he let you work.

The razor came next. You moved carefully, guiding it along his jaw in short, avoiding the small nicks and bruises. At first, he was tense under your hands, you could feel it in the set of his shoulders, the way his breathing held but little by little, it eased.

“This is…” he paused, voice low, almost surprised, “…not bad.”

You huffed a quiet laugh, brushing your thumb lightly along his jaw to check your progress. “High praise.”

He didn’t answer, but he didn’t pull away either.

You kept going, slower now, more careful where the cuts were, your touch lingering just a second longer than it needed to. The roughness gradually gave way beneath your hands, the uneven stubble replaced with smooth skin as you finished the last pass.

When you finally pulled back, you rinsed your hands and glanced up at him, a small, satisfied smile tugging at your lips.

Chris touched his freshly shaven face, running his fingers over the soft skin. “Feels weird…” he said, surprise in his voice.

You laughed quietly, feeling your heart skip a beat at his new look. “It does, but you always look good,” you replied, leaning in to give him a quick kiss. “Now, go eat while I clean up here.”

“Do you want me to—”

“Just eat,” you cut in playfully, nudging him a bit.

“Didn’t ask you.”

And just like that, he’s already reaching behind him, pulling out that small flask. The cap twists open with a soft click. “I swear—” Chris starts, voice tightening.

“Leon, please. Just listen—” Rebecca tries, softer.

“I heard you,” Leon cuts in, not even looking at her. “I just don’t care.” And then he drinks. All of it. One go. Like it’s easier that way. “People are going to die,” Chris growls, low and sharp.

Leon laughs.

“Yeah,” he mutters. “They always do.” Silence follows that. Awkward. “So go be the hero, Chris,” Leon adds, almost lazily. “That’s your thing.” Chris just stares at him for a second, before exhaling hard through his nose.

“Fine.”

He turns. Walks toward you, each step heavier than the last. You’re still looking at Leon’s back, rigid and closed off, before Chris’s voice pulls your attention. “You talk to him.” That’s what makes Leon freeze. Mid-motion. Flask halfway up. Like the words physically hit him.

“…What?”

He turns.

And then he sees you. For a second, everything stops. “…You’ve gotta be shitting me.” A short laugh slips out, dry and humorless. He runs a hand through his hair, shaking his head like this is some kind of cruel joke, before turning away again, lifting the flask.

“Of course you’d pull this,” he mutters.

A pause.

“So what, this is your plan now? Drag the past into it?” The flask hovers near his lips. He hesitates. Just for a second. “…Didn’t think I’d see you again.” It’s softer.

The room feels smaller after that. Chris tries again. “Leon—”

“Don’t.”

“You shouldn’t be here.” He was... concerned... but at the same time regret. Rebecca sighs, glancing at you. “He won’t listen to us…” Leon shakes his head slowly. “This isn’t your fight.” “Exactly why you should listen,” Chris cuts in, arms crossed.

Leon shoots him a glare, then looks back at you. “Say what you came here to say.” He doesn’t look away this time. Like he already knows it’s going to hurt. “You look… tired, Leon.”

A small laugh escapes him.

“That’s what you came here to say?”

“No.”

Something in your voice makes his grip tighten around the flask. “You don’t know what happened out there…” he mutters, gaze dropping.

“Then tell me.”

Silence.

Then—

“My team is dead.”

“Every single one of them.”

The room goes quiet again. You close your eyes for a second—you know that weight. You know what that does to a person.

“So don’t stand there and tell me what I should be doing,” he adds, voice rougher now.

“I’m not.”

You step closer. Close enough to catch the sharp edge of alcohol in the air. “I’m asking you what they would’ve wanted.”

That makes him stop.

Really stop.

“Would they want you here?” you gesture slightly—to the flask, to the bar, to this version of him.

“Or out there…”

A pause.

“…finishing what you started?” Leon looks down at the flask. His hand trembles. Just barely—but it’s there.

“We can’t do this without you,” Chris says, quieter now.

“And we’re running out of time,” Rebecca adds.

Leon exhales, dragging a hand down his face like he’s trying to wipe the past off with it. A long silence. He looks at Rebecca.

At Chris.

And then—

Back at you.

“…Damn it.” The flask lowers. “…Alright.” Chris nods once. But Leon’s gaze stays on you. “This doesn’t fix anything,” he says, softer now.

“I know.” You look down.