The next chapter of my no-zombies, modern AU, undercover rookie Leon + S.T.A.R.S. Chris, Chreon fic is up on AO3!
Here's a snippet of Chris bumping into the rookie that he finds totally annoying and not at all attractive 👀
🚓
Chris pushes the gym door open and freezes at the sight of Leon squatting near a weight bench.
The rookie is drinking from a water bottle with one hand and scrolling on his phone with the other. He's only wearing shorts, his shirt drenched and discarded on the floor by his feet. He's drenched too, his skin glistening with sweat, his hair damp and pushed back from his face.
He's even more jacked than Chris was expecting, though it could be because he just got done working out. Still smaller than Chris, obviously, but more defined. Less body fat. There are no rolls around his stomach even in this crouched position, only irritatingly flat abs and that even more irritatingly small waist.
He looks up as the door opens, the straw of his bottle still between his lips, and Chris should really say something; otherwise it's going to look like he's staring.
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| WIP | I wanted to draw two different points in their relationship where they're in opposite positions of wanting to help the other but not knowing how to reach them
favourite rpg trope is the merchants in incredibly hostile environments. we are at the evil curse mountain and youre just selling me items normal style
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i believe leon's a sentimental bastard, yes, but i think if he has kids, it's going to insane levels. a memory book for every year, and HUNDREDS of photos of them. i feel like his parents were probably killed when he was young, and it bothers him that his memories of them have all but faded to blurry vignettes of his mother's smile and his father's music in a car. the smell of the cigars he used to smoke, maybe. he still keeps his dad's rusted lighter in the pocket of his work pants.
when his kids are little and he's watching over them while his spouse is out or at work or busy doing something else, he sketches them as they nap or play. his therapist got him back into drawing, saying something about a creative hobby that busies his hands being a good destressor. his little sketchbook is filled with lovingly crafted moments of smiles and the block towers they so proudly show him once finished.
he is so worried about forgetting something with a life he's worked tirelessly to protect. and he wants his own kids to have memories of their childhood, the memories he sometimes wishes he'd had. of it being something fond to remember.
Pairing/WC/tags: re9!Leon x gf!reader / 464 / fluff, cuddling, older!boyfriend, established relationship
a/n: saw this from @starberrymatcha and HAD to write it cuz im so into Leon my GAWD- unedited and rushed oops
He’s absorbed in whatever he’s reading on his phone, the soft glow lighting up his face as he scrolls through the screen. But you’re not paying attention to that. Instead, you’re nestled right up next to him, your cheek pressed against his warm, muscular bicep, eyes fluttering closed as you let yourself get lost in the sensation of him.
Your hands reach up, curling around his arm, fingers squeezing his bicep gently, like you’re squishing a stress ball. It’s something you do without thinking, the familiar softness of his skin beneath your touch always a comfort. He doesn’t even glance at you at this point, he’s used to your random acts of affection. It’s just another one of those small, silly things you do when you’re near him.
But then, in a playful shift, you place a soft kiss on his bicep, just below your fingers. And then another. And another, dotting the muscle with quick, affectionate pecks. Each kiss is light, teasing, a contrast to the pressure of your earlier squeeze. He hums, low and content, but doesn’t look away from his phone. It’s a quiet understanding between you both, that these moments, these silly, small gestures, are the kind of intimacy that feels like home.
You lift your head just slightly, enough to press a gentle bite into the bicep, a little playful nip, before pulling away and pressing a soft kiss to the mark. Then, with a soft exhale, you rest your cheek against him again, sinking into the warmth of his arm as though it’s the safest place in the world.
He shifts a bit, but only enough to adjust his arm, making sure you’re comfortable. His thumb moves across the screen, scrolling, but his free hand reaches down, gently stroking your hair, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
“You’re being extra cuddly today,” he murmurs, voice soft and amused.
“Just love you,” you mumble into his arm, your words muffled but filled with affection. You can feel his smile widen as he responds with a simple hum, content to let you continue your little routine.
And you do. You keep resting your head on his bicep, pressing your face against it like it’s the most comfortable pillow in the world. Every now and then, you surprise him with another gentle kiss, or a squeeze that makes him chuckle softly, but it’s all part of the rhythm you’ve built together. It’s simple, it’s soft, and it’s so utterly you.
“Guess I’m your favorite squish toy, huh?” he teases, his fingers brushing through your hair in that way that makes your heart flutter.
“Yep,” you whisper, letting out a small, satisfied sigh. “And I’m not sharing.”
He chuckles quietly, lifting his phone just a little higher, but you both know that it doesn’t matter. You’re here, with him, and everything else in the world can wait. For now, it’s just you, him, and the warmth of his bicep, your own little world of quiet love.
they need to come up with more words like necrosis and miasma and mausoleum and cadaver and morose and decrepit and stuff like that just so metal bands can expand their vocabulary
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