𝒜𝓃𝑔ℯ𝓁🪽

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𝐇𝐄𝐘𝐘! 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐏 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄!

are you a fan of being delusional

and daydreaming ?

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ִֶָ. ..𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ𝒲e͟l͟c͟o͟m͟e !🪽་༘࿐

| she/her | delusional | bored writer |

trying to get better & more creative at writing (¬_¬")

𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐲

RE2 Leon as Your Personal Assistant — Headcanons

leon kennedy x f!reader

angel’s notes: not a lot to this but i randomly thought about it. if anyone writes a fanfic on this please tag me!! also didn’t proofread because fuck it we ball (¬_¬")

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

He’s painfully good at his job

You notice it in the small things first, like your coffee appearing exactly how you like it before you even realize you need it, your meetings spaced just right so you’re never rushed, never late. Then emails drafted in your tone so accurately it’s almost unsettling. Problems handled before they even reach your desk. And at the center of it all is him. He stands just slightly behind your shoulder most of the time, expression calm but focused. There’s something about the way he moves, the way he speaks. Polite, professional… but not stiff. “Already taken care of,” he says more often than not, usually before you even finish asking

You’re the one who breaks his composure

Leon wants to be the calm, put-together. But you? You like to have fun. You’ll stand a little too close when going over something. Let your voice drop slightly when you give instructions. You started wearing your top more open, giving Leon a good view. “Leon.” “…Yeah?” “You’re staring.” “…No, I wasn’t.” You just smile.

He’s lowkey competitive with your attention

If someone else takes up too much of your time, Leon suddenly finds urgent reasons to interrupt “Sorry to cut in, but you needed this signed.” You glance at the paper. It’s not urgent. You glance back at him. He doesn’t look sorry.

You tease him on purpose

You give him tasks that aren’t difficult, just… distracting. Like when you’re picking out an outfit for a meeting or a company event. You’ll start to get undressed right in front of him, having him hold onto other items of clothing or you’ll ask his opinion on an outfit. “Okay, what about this?” you say in front of the mirror, looking at yourself in different angles. “I- I think the first one was better.” You nod along, slipping out of the dress leaving you in your lace bra and panties “Problem?” “…No.” There is absolutely a problem.

He tries to tease back and immediately regrets it

Every once in a while, Leon gets bold. “You always this demanding,” he says, leaning casually against your desk, “or am I special?” You don’t even look up at first. Then painfully slowly you meet his eyes. “Do you want to find out?” He straightens immediately. “…I’m gonna go finish those reports.” You win every time.

He hates how much he listens to you.

You tell him to stay late and finish reports, he does. Even if he ends up falling asleep at his desk. You tell him to take a break. he actually listens. Will go out for a small walk and stops by a coffee shop, always brings back something for you. You give him a look, and suddenly he’s rethinking every decision he’s ever made.

If you ever actually push the line…

Leon’s control is hanging on by a thread most days. So when you really lean into it, maybe a whisper of praise in his ear, maybe running your fingers through his hair when he’s focused on work, or maybe giving him that look? He melts right into it. And honestly? You like it that way.

When it comes to outside the office, he’s still at your disposal. (bonus) 

You don’t even raise your voice when you call for him. “Leon.” There’s a pause outside the door, like he’s bracing himself already. When it finally opens, he barely steps inside, hand still on the handle like he might need a quick exit. “yes ma’am?” he says, voice a little rougher than usual. “You need something?” Looking everywhere but you, avoiding eye contact. “Strip.” you say, simple and direct. “W-what?” “I said take off your clothes.” A smile creeping on your face. You’re leaned forward in the tub, arms resting along the edge, water warm and quiet around you. Completely unbothered. Leon hesitate but slowly starts unbuttoning his shirt. Shoes, socks, and pants are all next to come off, leaving him in just his boxers. You watch him, really watch him, before tilting your head slightly. You give a look that tell him he ain’t done as he slips out of them, leaving him completely naked. You call him over using your finger. He swallows, tension flickering across his face for half a second before he nods, more to himself than to you. He’s careful as he steps into the bathtub with you. Submerges himself in the warm water. The second he settles into the water, though, you close that distance for him. You wrap your arms around his neck, your wet fingers sliding into his hair. “See?” you murmur, like you proved a point. “Not that hard.” Leon lets out a quiet breath, somewhere between a laugh and surrender. “You say that like I had a choice.” You lean in just slightly, close enough that he can feel your hot breath on his ear. “You didn’t.”

If I Was Your Boyfriend PART TWO

Leon Kennedy x reader

summary: MDNI! Running to Leon after a bad night, he has successfully been able to restrain his desires for you until now. 

a/n: Leaving off from part one, first time writing smut so hope y’all enjoy (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

❤︎ᩙ.˳˳.⋅ॱ❤︎ᩙ.˳˳.⋅ॱ❤︎ᩙ.˳˳.⋅ॱ❤︎ᩙ.˳˳.⋅ॱ❤︎ᩙ .˳˳.⋅ॱ❤︎ᩙ.˳˳.⋅ॱ❤︎ᩙ .˳˳.⋅ॱ ❤︎ᩙ.˳˳.⋅ॱ

“This is probably a terrible idea.” you say, the reality of everything crashing back in.

“Yeah,” Leon admits easily.

You stare at him. “Yeah?”

“Timing sucks”

The air between you feels different now. Charged. Quiet, but not empty, but like something’s building, waiting for one of you to move first.

You swallow, your gaze dropping to his lips for just a second before you can stop yourself.

He notices.

Leon leans in slightly, not enough to close the distance, just enough that you feel it. The choice hangs there, unspoken.

“Tell me to stop,” he says softly. “Just say it, and I will.”

Your heartbeat thunders, impossible to ignore.

“And if I don’t?” you ask.

His gaze shifts between your eyes, steady, searching.

“Then I won’t be able to hold back.”

That’s all it takes.

You close the gap this time, slower than before, like you’re giving yourself one last chance to pull back, but you don’t.

His hand finds your waist, pulling you onto his lap as the kiss deepens. Your fingers holding his jaw, pulling him closer.

One hand slides up your back, the other resting firm at your side, steady but careful, almost like he’s holding onto something important, something he doesn’t want to rush or break.

There’s so much tension, years of almosts, looks that lingered too long. Of jokes that covered something real, feelings neither of you ever said out loud.

It all crashes together in one moment.

His mouth was everywhere. On your jaw, down the side of your throat, sucking at the sensitive spot where your neck met your shoulder. He pulled the sweatshirt over your head. His hand came to palm at your breast, his thumb running over your nipple. A sharp gasp escaped you when he pinched, and the sound went straight to his cock, which was already painfully rubbing against his sweatpants.

In one simple motion, he stood, pulling you up with him. He carried you to the bedroom. He laid you back onto the mattress, your legs hanging off the end.

He knelt down between your legs. Pulling off your bottoms, your panties off with them. Kissing your stomach, then over your hips, and your thighs.

When his mouth finally found your core, you let out a moan softly. His tongue worked with a hunger, circling your clit before dipping lower. His hands held your thighs apart, his grip was firm. He established a brutal, perfect rhythm. Long strokes of his tongue from your entrance to your clit, adding to your wetness, then plunging his tongue inside, fucking you with his mouth.

He lifted his head, breathing heavily, his lips swollen and wet. He didn’t say anything. He simply watched the desperate frustration on your face. Then, he introduced his fingers. You felt the pressure of one, then two fingers at your entrance, circling before pushing deep inside you. He curled his fingers, finding the spot that made you roll your eyes back. He worked them in and out, his tongue moving on your clit.

The pleasure snapped with ease. You shattered around his fingers, and his mouth never left, feeling you spasms. He worked you through it, his tongue lapping soft strokes, his fingers slowing to a gentle pumping, giving you tiny, sensitive shivers. He finally withdrew his fingers. He placed one last tender kiss on your oversensitive clit. He moved up your body slowly, kissing his way up your stomach, between your breasts, along your collarbone. His arousal a hard pressure against your thigh.

“I‘m gonna make you forget about him,” Leon slurs, “gonna make you mine, sweetheart.”

He didn’t wait for a response. He kissed you again, a kiss that let you taste yourself on his tongue. Your hands came up, sliding under his soft t-shirt, pushing the fabric upward, breaking the kiss just a second to yank it over his head and toss it aside.

Sliding you further up the bed, he push his sweatpants and boxer briefs down over his hips in one impatient shove. His cock sprang free, beautifully hard, the tip already glistening. You wrapped your legs around his hips, pulling him closer until the hard length of him nudged against your entrance, dragging his cock through your slick folds, coating himself in your wetness. He buried his face into your neck.

“I need to see you.” he rasped, more to himself, lifting his head. He braced himself on his forearms, his eyes locked on yours as he guides himself to you. He pushed forward.

He watched your face, every flicker of pleasure, he sank deeper, inch by inch, until he was fully inside of you. His hips jerked slightly.

“Leon…” you breathed. A low groan tore from his throat. He began to move. “So perfect.” he whispered. “So tight for me. Taking me so deep.” He shifted slightly, and on the next thrust, he hit a spot that made you cry out, your nails digging into his shoulders. He held the position, with each slow thrust deep inside you.

“That’s it baby.” his breath was hot against your cheek. “Let me hear you. Let me feel you cum around me.” His pace began to increase while his thumb reached your clit in a fast circling motion, perfectly matching his thrusts. Your legs tightened around him, pulling him deeper.

“I- Leon, I’m going to…” you choked out.

“Look at me.” he commanded. “Come for me. Let me see it.” an overwhelming crash came over you. You clenched around him, drawing a whimper from him. One more deep thrust that buried him as far as he could possibly go, he threw his head back, a groan tearing from his throat. You felt his hot release deep inside you.

He let himself drop, his weight settling onto of you. He stayed inside you for a moment, peppering small light kisses on yours shoulder. Slowly, he moved out of you and gathered you into his arms, He pulled the soft thick blanket up and over the both of you.

If I Was Your Boyfriend 

Leon Kennedy x reader 

summary: you’ve known Leon for a few years now. after developing a small crush on him you push it away by going out with a guy. Leon and you stay friends but he notices how you act differently and are in constant fighting with your boyfriend. Running to Leon after a bad night, he has successfully been able to restrain his desires for you until now. 

warnings/tags: mentions of cheating, kissing

a/n: first time posting here!! I have no clue what I’m doing so feedback is welcome ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡

❤︎ᩙ.˳˳.⋅ॱ❤︎ᩙ.˳˳.⋅ॱ❤︎ᩙ.˳˳.⋅ॱ❤︎ᩙ.˳˳.⋅ॱ❤︎ᩙ .˳˳.⋅ॱ❤︎ᩙ.˳˳.⋅ॱ❤︎ᩙ .˳˳.⋅ॱ ❤︎ᩙ.˳˳.⋅ॱ

You’ve known Leon Kennedy for awhile now. He’s always annoyingly good at everything without trying, unfairly charming, and just funny enough to get away with it. For years you’ve hidden behind sarcasm and eye rolls, pretending the small crush you have on him is nothing.

It’s stupid, really. Falling for your best friend when you’re almost certain he’s never seen you that way. So you did what anyone would do.

You moved on.

That’s how you met Jacob.

Five months ago, on a random night out with friends, he felt like exactly what you needed. Easy. Safe. The kind of guy who held doors open, pulled out your chair, and actually listened when you spoke. With him, everything unfolded naturally. Dinners turned into quiet nights in, laughter turned into something softer, steadier. Before long, you were official. And for a while, you let yourself believe you’d gotten lucky. That maybe this was meant for you.

But things don’t stay soft forever.

The small changes crept in quietly. Sweet gestures turned into half-hearted habits, then disappeared altogether. Conversations became one-sided, your voice filling the space while Jacob scrolled through his phone, barely looking up. The warmth you once felt with him dulled into something heavier, harder to name. Still, you stayed. Maybe out of habit. Maybe out of fear. Maybe because leaving felt harder than pretending everything was fine.

Lately, though, you’ve been spending more and more time at Leon’s apartment.

It started as a one time escape after a bad argument. Then another. And another. Now, it’s become routine.

His couch, your refuge.

The tension at your own place had grown unbearable, thick with criticism and passive-aggressive comments that lingered long after the words were spoken. At Leon’s, everything felt lighter. Easier. Movie nights, late night conversations, comfortable silence, it all reminded you of what it felt like to just exist without being picked apart.

Leon never asked too many questions. Never pushed. He just understood.

Of course, Jacob noticed.

He didn’t like how often you were gone, how easily you slipped out the door after another fight. The jealousy had been building for weeks, simmering beneath the surface until it finally started spilling over, accusations, sharp and bitter, that you were choosing Leon over him. That you always had.

Normally, you’d argue back. Defend yourself. Try to smooth things over.

But not this time.

This time, everything shattered too much to fix.

You don’t even remember leaving your apartment, just the image burned into your mind: Jacob, tangled up with someone else, in your bed, in your space, like none of it had ever meant anything. Like you had never meant anything.

By the time you reach Leon’s apartment, you’re moving on autopilot.

You swing the door open.

Inside, it’s quiet except for the low sound of a game playing on the TV. Leon’s on the couch, headset on, controller in hand, completely focused. It’s normal, ordinary, untouched by the mess you just walked out of.

For a second, you just stand there.

Then the door clicks shut behind you.

Leon looks up.

And the moment he sees your face, the tear tracks you didn’t bother to wipe away.

Leon’s reaction is immediate.

The controller slips from his hands, clattering softly against the floor as he pulls his headset off. “Hey…” His voice is sharp with concern now, all focus snapped straight to you.

“What happened?”

You try to answer.

You really do.

But the words get stuck somewhere between your chest and your throat. Your lips part, then press together again, and the only thing that comes out is a shaky breath with tear forming in your eyes again.

He crosses the room in a few quick steps, stopping just in front of you like he’s not sure if touching you will make things worse or better. His hands hover for half a second before settling gently on your arms.

“Hey, come on” he says again, softer this time.

“Talk to me.”

That’s all it takes.

The fragile control you’ve been holding onto since you left your apartment finally breaks. The words come out in pieces, uneven and rushed.

“I- I went home and he was- there was someone else” Your voice cracks, and you shake your head like that might somehow undo it.

“In my bed, Leon.”

For a moment, there’s nothing.

No joke, no sarcastic comment, no attempt to lighten the mood like he usually would.

Just silence.

Then his expression changes. Something darker flashing behind his eyes, quick and sharp before he reins it in. His grip on your arms tightens just slightly, grounding, not painful.

“He what?”

You let out a humorless laugh that sounds more like it hurts than anything else.

“Yeah. So, I guess that answers a lot of questions.”

Leon exhales slowly, like he’s trying very hard to stay calm for your sake. One hand leaves your arm, running back through his hair as he looks away for a second, jaw tight.

His attention snaps back to you, softer again. “You can stay here. As long as you need, alright?”

You nod, because it’s the only thing you can manage right now.

There’s a pause, brief but heavy with everything unsaid. Then, more gently, Leon adds, “come here.”

He pulls you into a hug, solid and warm and familiar in a way that makes your chest ache. For a second, you stiffen, more out of surprise than anything but then you melt into it, hands gripping the back of his shirt like he’s the only thing keeping you upright.

“I’ve got you,” he murmurs, one hand coming up to rest against the back of your head. “You’re okay.”

You don’t feel okay.

Not even close.

But standing here, pressed against him, listening to the steady rhythm of his breathing. It’s the first time since everything happened that the world feels even slightly less like it’s spinning out of control.

After a while, he pulls back just enough to look at you, his hands still resting lightly on your shoulders. His gaze softens as he studies your face, like he’s checking for something.

“You eat anything today?” he asks.

You blink, caught off guard. “What?”

“Food,” he repeats, a little more gently. “Have you eaten?”

You shake your head.

He nods to himself, already turning slightly toward the kitchen. “Alright. Sit down. I’ll make something.”

“Leon, you don’t have to”

“I know I don’t have to,” he cuts in, not harsh, just firm. Then, softer, “I want to.”

That shuts you up.

You sink onto the couch, still feeling a little dazed, watching as he moves around the kitchen like he’s done this a hundred times before.

It hits differently now.

Everything does.

After a few minutes, he glances back at you.

“You look like you wanna say something.”

He hesitates.

“I think I already know what you’re gonna say.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Oh yeah?”

“That I should’ve left sooner,” you say, picking at a loose thread on the sleeve of your shirt. “That I ignored all the signs.”

Leon doesn’t answer right away.

Instead, he turns the stove down, wipes his hands on a towel, and leans back against the counter, arms crossed loosely.

“I was gonna say,” he starts slowly, “that I could be a better boyfriend than him.”

You look up at him.

He shrugs one shoulder, like it’s the simplest thing in the world. You just go silent from how easy he makes it sound.

Leon pushes off the counter, finishing up the food and walks back over, setting a plate down on the coffee table in front of you.

Even though your appetite isn’t really there, you still pick up the fork.

For a while, neither of you says anything. The quiet stretches, soft but heavy, filled only by the low hum of the TV and the faint clink of your fork against the plate.

Leon’s sitting beside you, close enough that you can feel the warmth of him without actually touching. He’s leaning forward slightly, elbows on his knees, hands clasped together. As if he’s holding himself back from saying more than he already has.

From the outside, it probably looks normal, but it doesn’t feel normal.

You glance over and he’s already looking at you.

Not in that casual, joking way you’re used to, but something quieter. Softer. Like he’s trying to read you without pushing too hard.

Your breath catches.

And before you can overthink it, before you can talk yourself out of it like you always do, you lean in.

It’s not planned. It’s not careful.

It just… happens.

Your lips press against his and for half a second, everything freezes.

Leon goes completely still, like his brain hasn’t caught up to what just happened. You feel it immediately the surprise, the tension, and reality hits you just as fast.

Oh my God.

What did you just do?

You pull back quickly, heart racing, panic already creeping in. “I- I’m sorry, I don’t know why I- ”

But you don’t get to finish.

Leon moves.

One hand comes up, catching your wrist gently but firmly, not to stop you, just to keep you from pulling too far away. His other hand finds your jaw, thumb brushing lightly against your cheek, grounding you.

And then he kisses you back.

This time, it’s slower.

Like he’s making sure you have time to pull away if you want to, but you don’t. You don’t even think about it.

Your hand grips his shirt as you lean into him, the kiss deepening just slightly, all the tension and confusion from the night tangling with something warmer, something you’ve been trying not to feel for years.

It’s different than you imagined.

Better.

When he finally pulls back, it’s not far. His forehead rests lightly against yours, his hand still cupping your face like he’s afraid you might disappear if he lets go.

For a second, neither of you speaks.

Then, quietly, almost disbelieving, he lets out a small breath. “You… have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

You blink, pulling back just enough to look at him.

A faint, almost nervous smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, something you don’t see from him often.

❤︎ᩙ.˳˳.⋅ॱ❤︎ᩙ.˳˳.⋅ॱ❤︎ᩙ.˳˳.⋅ॱ❤︎ᩙ.˳˳.⋅ॱ❤︎ᩙ .˳˳.⋅ॱ❤︎ᩙ.˳˳.⋅ॱ❤︎ᩙ .˳˳.⋅ ❤︎ᩙ.˳˳.⋅ॱ