Using your One Wish Willow was supposed to be a joke. What happens now that Leon Kennedy himself is in front of you, seemingly in love with everything you are?
word count: 1.6k, chapter one
content: reverse isekai and transmigration, inspired by Obsession (2025). fluff and angst and eventual smut. short chapters.
A single One Wish Willow.
You found it in a thrift store, tucked away behind novelty mugs and dusty china. If anything, it looked purposely hidden. Perhaps someone wanted it for themselves, but didn’t have the chance to take it yet.
At the resounding price of $3, you thought the box looked interesting enough. A wish that comes true? Surely, it was a bunch of hocus pocus. But something about the worn package and its promise of an incredible happening was too intriguing.
Taking it home meant you inspected the box curiously, fingers gliding over the words.
“Amaze your friends. You only get one wish,” you mumbled to yourself. The characters on the box were cute enough. Part of you didn’t want to open it. Maybe keep it as a decoration in your room, as the trinket it seemingly was.
But… a bigger part of you wanted to see what was inside. Shaking it, you could hear that it physically carried an object.
You figured, ‘fuck it,’ and opened it with careful fingers. Slowly, you extracted the wooden piece from the box. It looked… fine. Normal, even.
You thought to yourself for a moment. What wish would be most fulfilling at this moment? Money? Fame?
You looked around your room. It was quiet, only the hum of whatever sad song you were listening to in the background. Still, you wished for company. Companionship in the shape of a kind lover. Someone who’d love you unconditionally, despite all your flaws.
Your eyes stopped at a picture of him on your desk; a dumb printout meant to make you passingly happy while you lived life tirelessly.
You smiled, chuckling to yourself. Snapping the stick, you jokingly said: “I wish Leon Kennedy was real.”
It was silly, and you knew it. You wished for it anyways. Deep down, you wanted him to exist. To see if you’d get along, form a relationship of any kind. But that was all silly.
At least, until you heard a crackle in your room. Once, then twice. The sparks of life materializing in front of you. You gasped, falling backwards on your bed until your head hit the mattress.
Things kept spinning, yellow and orange pigments shimmering in the center of your room. The world itself seemed to shake, with the rattling of your furniture making your heart pound furiously. You could only stare in fear and awe as he appeared slowly. Blurred locks of blonde hair, a compression shirt, and tactical pants.
It couldn’t be him. No, no. Your eyes were playing a trick on you. Or maybe you were dreaming this all up. Maybe, just maybe, the stick was hallucinogenic? But that was crazy.
You stayed on your bed, practically trembling as you watched him become clearer. More detailed. For a fleeting moment, he looked as he did in-game. But then he became more. Flesh and skin, blood and bones.
He stretched a bit. Then came the familiar sound of his grunts. Quiet, barely there. You screamed. He stumbled back.
“Oh my god!” you squeaked, scrambling away in your bed.
He looked down at himself and at his hands. Leon felt… strange. Different. He couldn’t pinpoint how, though.
You threw a pillow at him, afraid of how this could be occurring. He let it hit him square in the face before catching it in his hands.
“Ouch,” he grumbled.
“Oh my god,” you repeated. “What the fuck.” Your eyes were wide as saucers, unable to look away from him.
“What?” he asked, your panic making him uneasy.
“You!” you exclaimed.
“What about me?”
“You’re real!”
He scoffed, arms crossing over his chest. “Well, of course I’m real.”
You squeaked again, before finally tumbling out of your bed to approach him. Your room wasn’t the biggest, so you were in front of each other now.
The details in his face were astounding. The tired blue eyes. The mole beneath his right nose. The cleft chin. It was all him. Not Eduardo, the face model. All Leon.
Your hand slowly reached out, fingers hovering besides his face. He looked unsure for a moment, which made you pause.
“Sorry,” you mumbled. “You just look…”
“Familiar?” he guessed.
“Uh, yeah.”
The hint of a smirk tugged at his lips. God, those lips. You’ve probably imagined them a million times. And now they were here, in front of you. Your mouth went dry.
“I think I need to sit down…” and you slowly retracted yourself to the edge of the bed.
“Yeah, you’re not looking great.”
You would have made a snarky remark if you weren’t so incredibly baffled. He seemed calm, though. Too calm. Like he didn’t mind being here with you, in your room.
What the fuck was that supposed to mean?
The truth was… Leon couldn’t recall anything. He couldn’t remember anything about himself apart from the basic things. He’s a government agent. He likes Oreos. He’s an orphan, and he’s so, so lonely. Everything else is in bits and pieces; shallow memories that feel a million light years away.
So to suddenly show up in the comfort of your home… it didn’t seem so bad. And he thinks you’re cute, as startled as you are.
After your initial shock, you had to let him take refuge in your room. Where else was he supposed to go? He could tell he wasn’t home. Not near his sad apartment in D.C., and it wasn’t one of those nightmares where he was in Raccoon City again. This was different.
Your room was warm. Nice. You had little pictures on the walls, some personal and some not. Your bookshelf was littered with little toys and knickknacks. He could see himself being happy here. Much happier.
When it was nighttime, and you’d successfully kept Leon away from anyone who’d notice him, you finally got to thinking about your sleep dilemma.
“So…” you started, twisting your fingers together awkwardly.
He sat on the chair of your desk patiently, like a puppy awaiting instruction. It made your heart palpitate. He did that to you in general, you noticed.
“Bedtime,” you said. “Uh, you can take my bed. I’ll set something up on the floor.”
His eyes narrowed. “No,” he said without hesitation. “No way. I’ll take the floor.”
“But—”
“Trust me,” he said with a tiny smirk. “I’ve been in worse sleeping situations than this.”
You wanted to offer the two of you to share the bed, desperately, but you didn’t have a king. If the two of you slept together, there’d be unavoidable points of contact. And were you ready for that, now that Leon was actually here? You almost died when he patted your shoulder earlier. There was no way you’d survive sharing a bed.
“O-Okay,” you finally said. “But I’ll make sure to give you lots of pillows and blankets.”
“Deal,” he said with a nod.
“Right, okay.”
You hurriedly got to organizing him a spot on the floor, with him watching you curiously. You’d been so skittish that he felt a need to calm you down. He doesn’t know how, though. He’s never been too good at the comforting thing.
Pulling the various pieces from your bed and a closet in the hallway, you successfully set up a makeshift bed on the ground for him.
“Ta-da,” you said.
He smiled, just barely, and it felt like sunshine. You’d watched him smile at Ashley Graham in game, but when it was aimed at you? Geez.
“Thanks,” he said. “Looks comfy.”
You let out a small, awkward laugh. “Yeah. I tried.”
His smile grew a fraction and he shook his head, finally standing up from the chair. He didn’t seem to care that he wasn’t dressed for bed, even if you’d been in your pajamas for a while. He still settled into the floor, as calm as ever.
“You need anything before I, you know…”
He shook his head ‘no’ and slowly laid until he could pull a blanket over himself. “‘m fine,” he said.
You exhaled, nodding to yourself. “Okay, cool.” Reaching over him to turn the light off, you quieted your voice. “Well, goodnight.”
“Night.”
You went back to your bed, where you closed your eyes. And you were too aware of him and his breaths. In and out, as gentle as the spring breeze.
You closed your eyes, and sleep felt impossible. You wondered if you’d wake up, and he’d be gone. That seemed likely, ‘cause again, maybe you were just high as shit and imagining him.
But sleep eventually claimed you.
When you woke up, it was still dark. There was a small rasp against your desk. Quiet scratches. Your head lifted from your pillow, and you squinted as he stood at the edge of your bed.
“Leon?”
“Hm?”
“What are you doing?” you asked.
“Nothing,” he said. “Couldn’t sleep.”
Right. Nightmares. Leon was a haunted man, with an awful backstory. Tragic. That was the reality.
“Um, well…”
“Can I sleep in your bed? With you?”
You froze. That was simultaneously the best and worst idea.
“Uh…”
“It’s okay if you don’t want to,” he whispered. His eyes seemed to practically glow. “I’m just… not used to this.”
“Used to what?”
“Feeling… comfortable around someone.”
“What?”
“Yeah,” he said slowly. “I feel pretty comfortable around you. Dunno why.”
“Oh.”
Was that really what this was about? He found comfort in you?
“Well, I guess it’s okay.”
“Really?” he asked, but he was already climbing in.
You scooted over to make space for him. “Yeah, yeah. Of course. No big deal.”
“Thanks.”
You took in a breath, trying not to tremble. Leon was right beside you now, looking at you with kind, appreciative eyes. And you didn’t know what to do.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
I saw a post about somebody wanting Jason and Cass to be narrative foils to each other. Cass adheres to the No Kill Policy, she holds fast to it and Jason has broken it more than a few times and yeah I agree, it would be interesting to see them butt heads but since I'm me, I want to make it funny.
Jason: I get why the rule is important to you. I respect it but come on, there has to be some people that you consider killing.
Cass: No.
Jason: People who say shit like "as a" something or other to butt in on people's arguments?
Cass: No.
Jason: People who snap their fingers at wait staff.
Cass: It's rude but no, not even then.
Jason: Dick when he leaves the toilet seat up.
Cass:
Cass: No.
Jason: Now I know you're lying. Your bitch ass folded like sheet last night. I heard you screaming from the fucking Cave. And you want to tell me that I'm wrong?
Cass, with a shit eating grin: No. Killing is wrong.
Pairing: RE9!Leon Kennedy x isekai'd!fem!Reader (ft. Grace Ashcroft and Victor Gideon)
Summary: Whenever you play Leon's part in Resident Evil Requiem, Leon hears everything you say—from your curses, to your praises, to your reaction to seeing him break open a warped door with his hatchet—he hears it all. Even when you get thrown into his universe, you're just as shameless as you were before you arrived.
Note: It ain't a Genshinluvr fic if I don't write at least one fic with an isekai plot. There are snippets of the actual game in this fic, and as the fic progresses, once you/the reader gets isekai'd into Resident Evil Requiem. I had the time of my life typing this out, not gonna lie. It was fun as hell. Anyway! I don't post anywhere else but on Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and on AO3 (Aaliah_exo).
Warning: Violence (the usual), Victor Gideon caressing Leon (is that a warning itself?), The Girl, you'll probably get secondhand embarrassment from this fic.
Word Count: 9.8k
You're buzzing with excitement, knowing you're going to see the 49-year-old Leon S. Kennedy in his glory after playing Grace's part at the Wrenwood Hotel. You have been anticipating the release of Resident Evil Requiem ever since you saw the trailer for the game. Now that it's in your Steam library, you have been itching to play the game after work.
You're sitting at your desk, knees pressing against your chest as the cut scene plays before you. Your heart is still pounding against your chest after you manage to escape from the infected police officer, Cole. You watch Grace collapse in the strange man's iron grip, her body slumping to the side, and the screen goes black.
"Is it finally happening?" You whisper, leaning forward towards the monitor, and watch the series of police cars slowly appear on the screen, before cutting to a scene where it shows a dead body with strange blotches on the palm of the deceased's hand. Your eyes light up. "It is! It is it is it is!"
The man—obviously, it's thee Leon S. Kennedy—gets up from where he was kneeling and leaves the area that is blocked off with crime scene tape.
"Talk to me. Is this one like the others?" A woman's voice breaks through the sound of pouring rain as the man walks towards the CRIME SCENE DO NOT CROSS and POLICE LINE DO NOT CROSS tape.
"Same black blotches." He ducks under the tape and continues to walk past the police cars at the crime scene.
"And it's not postmortem lividity?" The mission coordinator asks.
"No." He turns toward the area where his car is parked. "No, this is different. That's six now. Six survivors of Raccoon City, all dead from the same thing." The scene switches to the inside of the car.
"Yeah, that's… not good."
"No… No, it's not." The car door opens, and the investigator gets into the car before closing it.
You lean in your seat, biting your bottom lip. God, his voice is so husky. You continue watching the cut scene, completely immersed and enamored by the sight of the man you will be playing as very soon, once the cut scene is over. The mission coordinator proceeds to give additional information to the mysterious man.
You already know who this mysterious man is behind the wheel. But when the bottom half of his face is shown in the rear-view mirror, you audibly gasp and continue to watch the cut scene, watching the man grab his gun and pop out the cylinder, spinning it around before popping it back in, while the mission coordinator continues to speak in his intercom.
The minute the game finally reveals Leon's face, you gasp. "Oh my—Leon, you're so handsome."
For about thirty seconds, Leon doesn't respond to the woman on the other end of his intercom. His eyebrows slightly furrow, his eyes scanning his surroundings. Did he just hear someone else's voice? It's certainly not the mission coordinator. What the hell?
"You there, Leon?" The mission coordinator asks, bringing him out of his thoughts.
Leon nods. "Yeah. I'm here."
"You okay?" Leon can hear the woman raise her eyebrows as she waits for his response.
Leon doesn't respond to her question. Leon glances in his rear-view mirror, checking to see if a random woman may have sneaked into his car, but he sees no one. Leon pushes the start button of his Porsche Cayenne Turbo GT, and the black luxury car purrs to life.
"Send me the address," Leon says, putting his car in reverse and turning halfway. "I'll check it out." Leon puts his gearshift into drive before he drives off into the night.
You stare at the dark screen after watching Leon's car disappear into the night—your mouth agape. You're so glad that you spent $69.99 for this game. You could spend additional money on the deluxe version, but you wanted to finish the game first before deciding whether a deluxe version is worth buying.
You end up playing the game for a little over an hour. You're now on Grace's part of the game, where you need to find a screwdriver for the fuse box in Rhodes Hill Chronic Care Center. You didn't know what got into you when you chose to play the standard classic mode rather than casual or standard modern mode.
"God, I'm so stupid. Why am I doing this to myself?" You mutter after Grace grabs the ink ribbon in the room that you unlocked with the Cherub Key. "Limited autosaves, and I need to save my gameplay wisely. Why did I choose this mode again?"
You're roaming around the area as Grace—you're playing in first-person point of view—trying to gather the courage to go to the nursing station. It's so dark that you have to squint to see in the darkness. As much as you want to change the setting to make it a little brighter for you to see in the dark, where's the fun in that?
"It's okay! I can do this! Everything will be okay, and nothing will happen!" You try to give yourself a pep talk, having Grace walk to the nursing station with a tiny lighter in her hand, illuminating her path. Just as Grace approaches the door, a cut scene is triggered, and an infected corpse falls through the door, scaring both you and Grace.
Grace leans down and touches the corpse's neck. "He's dead." Grace states the obvious.
"I would hope so." You mutter, mentally preparing for what's to come.
After Grace moves the man's head, a large hand emerges from the darkness and grabs the infected corpse. Grace lets out a choked gasp, watching in horror as the grotesque monster brings the dead body up to her mouth and bites off the head.
Its eyes lock on Grace, mouth and teeth stained with blood, and it leans towards Grace. You flinch back from your monitor, questioning your choices on playing the game in the dead of night. After the cut scene ends, you immediately turn around and leave the nursing station with the monster at your (Grace's?) tail.
"Come on, come on, come on! Can you please run any faster, Grace?" You panic, shaking your legs as you run to the nearest room that has lights. When you successfully run to Room 203, you turn around to see the grotesque monster at the entrance of the room.
The monster steps into the room, causing Grace to fearfully yell out, "Don't come any closer!"
The monster's gray skin starts sizzling and burning from the lights in the room. It shrieks and steps outside the room. You and Grace watch the monster climb up a hole in the ceiling, leaving Grace alone at last. Just when you thought you were safe, the lights in the room went out, sending chills and shivers down your spine.
You run out of the room, heart pounding against your chest. After you make it back to the nursing station, you grab the med injector and start searching for the screwdriver for the fuse box. You can hear blood pounding in your ears, listening to Grace's shaky breath.
You search around the room and eventually have to move the cart. But before you do that, you move it slightly and open the locker to see a green herb.
"This could be useful," Grace mutters, grabbing it.
You climb onto the cart, grabbing the antique coin from the top of the locker before getting off. You grab the cart and start pushing towards the shelf where you spotted a red toolbox perched on top. Just as you're halfway to the shelf, a metal tray slides off the cart and clatters loudly to the ground, causing you and Grace to freeze momentarily.
You hear chains and shackles dragging on the floor, followed by heavy footsteps that are heading towards the nursing station where Grace is. Out of sheer panic, you grab the cart and move it closer to the shelf, ignoring the other items falling off and crashing to the ground.
You catch a glimpse of the creature through the window, slamming her hand against the glass while walking towards the nursing station. At this point, your heart is in your throat, and you're close to pausing the game and ending it there for the night, but the issue is that you still need to save the game, and if you don't, you have to redo where it last auto-saved.
Once the cart is close enough to the shelf, you climb onto it and grab the red toolbox, unlatching it and taking out the screwdriver. You sigh in relief, hopping off the cart and running to the nearest hiding spot. You extinguish the flames of Grace's lighter, staring at the door while listening to the monster getting closer to where you're having Grace hide.
The monster's hand suddenly appears, grabbing onto the doorframe before walking into the room. It sniffs the air, walking further into the room and looking around. It gets close to where the cart is and lets out a frenzied growl, swiping at the cart, causing it to fly to the desk. Grace whimpers.
You take it as a sign to start running. Before the mutated creature can turn and look in your and Grace's direction, you have Grace leave the hiding spot and start sprinting in the darkness. Since the creature turned the lights off in Room 203, you start running to the room where the typewriter sits. Before you pass the nursing station, the door bursts open, and the monster appears.
You briefly pause the game, staring at the menu in horror. Your heart is thudding painfully against your chest as you try to calm down. You lean back in your seat, heavily debating if you should just stop there.
"But I made so much progress. I have the screwdriver. I just need to find a way to get Grace to go around the monster, run to Room 201, get the fuse from the fuse box in that very room, and run to the other fuse box where I got the Cherub Key."
You take a deep breath and close your eyes. God, this is horrifying. Playing the game in first person point of view makes it even scarier than you anticipated. You give yourself a pep talk before unpausing the game. Grace cries out in fear, freezing in fear when the monster fully reveals itself in front of Grace.
You start mashing the buttons, begging for Grace to start moving or else she's dead. "Come on, come on, come on! We gotta go, or else we're next, Grace!"
As if she heard you, Grace turns around and starts running to the other entrance of the nursing station where the two of you came from. Grace hides near the desk in the nursing station, panting as the two of you wait and listen to the monster walk past the nursing station over and over.
"This is horrifying." You mutter, hands trembling on your mouse and keyboard. "Is the empty bottle even going to work in this situation?" You creep towards the door where the monster burst from, trying to see where it is.
You take the empty bottle out of Grace's inventory and aim for the furthest part of the hallway—close to where the plant was knocked over—and toss the bottle. The bottle shatters, grabbing the creature's attention. It shrieks and charges towards where the bottle landed, giving you and Grace a small window to escape your hiding spot.
You have Grace sprint to Room 201 as fast as she could, but it feels like Grace wasn't running at all from first person perspective. It feels more like a power walk rather than Grace running for her life. Halfway down the hallway, you and Grace hear the monster shrieking and charging towards where you're heading.
"Hurry, hurry!"
Grace pushes the door aside and makes it to the room where the typewriter sits. You sigh in relief, blood pounding in your ears. Grace takes a few steps towards where the fuse box is, only for the entire building to shake and the lights to flicker and turn off.
"We need to get that fuse and get the hell out of here as soon as possible," You say, making Grace go to the fuse box inside the closet. You unscrew the fuse box with the screwdriver, and Grace takes out the fuse, triggering a cut scene.
Grace stares at the fuse, "Alright," she mutters. Grace turns around, and just when she can leave the closet, you and Grace hear a faint thud coming above her. Grace gasps and looks up at the gaping hole in the ceiling of the closet in horror.
Grace takes a step back, eyes still locked on the hole. "Oh my god," Grace whispers.
The monster starts climbing into the room where Grace is, causing Grace to gasp and start panicking. The cut scene suddenly ends, and now you find yourself forcing Grace to turn around and make a run for it to the fuse box where the Cherub Key was located.
The lights shatter, and the building rumbles as Grace runs through the dark hallways of Rhodes Hill Chronic Care Center. When you press 'F' at the fuse box, a cut scene is triggered, showing Grace shoving the fuse into the fuse box, pressing the button, and quickly looking back as the security gate slowly pulls up.
You watch Grace drop to the ground and quickly crawl underneath the moving gate. "Come on, come on, come on, come on, come on!" Grace pleads as she crawls through the gate, and the monster appears where Grace came from. You collapse in your seat, sighing in relief, happy that you have gotten through the first (among many) difficult parts of the game.
The monitor goes black before switching to another cut scene—but it starts with showing Leon's Porsche driving through the gate of Rhodes Hill Chronic Care Center and to the front. Leon exits the car, and you gasp in awe, completely enamored by the mere sight of Leon S. Kennedy.
"God, he looks so good." You whisper breathlessly as you watch him walk to the door of the facility after closing the car door. "Why can't you be real?" You lament, resting your chin on your knees as you continue watching the cut scene unfold.
Leon stands in the central hall, his eyes scanning his surroundings. It's quiet, too quiet. But despite how quiet it is in the facility, Leon still hears the same voice he heard earlier near the crime scene he left before arriving at the sanatorium. Maybe he's going crazy, and the side effects of the T-virus are starting to get to him.
You watch the nurse appear behind Leon, calling out to him and informing him that Dr. Gideon was expecting him.
"Funny. I don't remember getting an invitation," Leon's sarcastic response makes you snort, shaking your head. Leon hears the faint snort, the corners of his lips barely curving up into a smile.
The nurse continues speaking to Leon, telling him that Dr. Gideon is waiting for him. Leon soon follows after the nurse as she guides him to who knows where. The cut scene continues a little longer, only for the nurse to lead Leon to the rehabilitation ward. The door closes behind Leon, making him turn around. Then the cut scene ends there, and now you're in control of Leon.
You don't move Leon, watching him on the screen and admiring his design. God, the developers at Capcom really went all out for Leon. You spin the camera around, continuing to admire him. Leon looks around the facility, wondering why he couldn't move despite trying to. It's like he's locked in place until someone commands him to move. The nurse is waiting at the end of the hallway, waiting for him to follow.
"Okay, I need to get moving and stop getting easily distracted by Leon," You say to yourself, finally controlling Leon's movements and proceeding to follow the nurse as Leon.
The nurse explains about the facility and what they do at the sanatorium as both Leon and the nurse continue walking down the hall. Leon has no idea where the nurse is leading him, and neither do you, but judging by the map, it's probably to your (mainly Leon's) doom.
"The facility keeps a low profile due to the sensitive nature of the research," The nurse says, walking to the rehabilitation center of the facility.
"Oh, I bet it does," Leon replies, as he follows the nurse throughout the facility.
You hum, eyebrows furrowing at the conversation between Leon and the nurse of the strange facility. "That's something someone suspicious would say," You mutter, face scrunching up. You're so glad that you haven't dealt with any horrors as Leon just yet. "You have a mutated monster stomping around your facility right now, too."
Leon raises his eyebrows at your comment, still questioning if he's going crazy. Leon glances around, then at the nurse, but she doesn't seem to notice anything strange—or hear a woman's voice for that matter—and continues making her way to the room at the end of the rehabilitation ward. Once Leon gets closer to the room and the nurse, a new cut scene starts for you.
You yawn, stretching in your seat, watching the nurse leave Leon alone in the room and closing the door behind her as she leaves. The camera zooms in on Leon, making your face scrunch up.
"God, this Dr. Gideon guy is way more obsessed with Leon than I am," You comment, watching Leon peek at every little thing in the room.
Leon raises his eyebrows at your comment. "Almost as you are? What do you mean by that?" Leon wants to ask. Instead, Leon chooses to stay silent, as saying things out loud would earn weird looks from whoever passes by the room he's in, or could land him in this exact facility.
Little did you know, Leon's searching around for where the voice is coming from. The woman's voice is loud and clear to him, and yet he sees no one. He's alone in this room, but he's been hearing voices in his head every now and then. The voice comes and goes, gushing over him and his skills; other times, the same voice would chime in after someone—who's conversing with Leon—says something.
Leon rests against the desk, reaching for the photograph of Victor Gideon and his medical team that runs the facility. Leon subconsciously furrows his eyebrows as he scrutinizes the image in his hand before setting it back down where he found it. Leon checks the time on his watch, his expensive watch appearing on your monitor.
"That looks expensive, but I shouldn't be surprised. You drive a Porsche Cayenne Turbo GT—that's probably the most expensive thing I've seen you own." You comment, watching the time tick away on Leon's watch.
Much to your disappointment, the cut scene soon comes to an end after the nurse is killed by the chainsaw-wielding doctor. You're soon in control of Leon again and have to kill every infected person in the surrounding area with a chainsaw, which you're not a fan of.
"This thing is a bit hard to wield around. It kind of slows me down, and after Leon plunges the chainsaw into a zombie, I would need to retrieve it again from said zombie…" You sigh, shaking your head. "Oh, shit." The chainsaw drops to the ground and starts spinning out of control.
You force Leon out of the way, trying to avoid getting hit by the out-of-control chainsaw. A zombie nurse charges at Leon with her arms outstretched, trying to grab him. You try shooting the nurse with the requiem gun, but miss.
"Fuck. My aim is atrocious. I am so sorry, Leon. You're supposed to be cool, but I'm making you look like an amateur loser." You frown.
Leon frowns. "Amateur loser? Who are you calling an amateur loser?" Leon mouths to himself, continuing to aim his gun at the infected nurse.
You try shooting the nurse as she gets closer to Leon, but before you can shoot, the nurse lunges at Leon. You let out a choked gasp, assuming Leon is done for, but he ducks underneath the nurse's grasp and shoots her at the back of the head, blood spewing all over the place when her head explodes.
"Whoa!" You gasp, eyes wide in awe. "How did you do that?!" You exclaim, pausing briefly to look at what buttons you've pressed, but you're too busy mashing different buttons to know the actual controls of the dodge he just did.
You unpause the game. "Leon, can you do that again?" You ask yourself, shooting every zombie that's charging at Leon at full speed. How the hell did you do that again? You really need to know what the controls are, or else you won't be able to pull that cool move ever again.
As more zombies emerge from the other rooms in the rehabilitation ward, you shoot every zombie in the head successfully despite having bad aim. An infected doctor lunges at Leon, causing you to panic momentarily, miss your shot, and giving the zombie an opportunity to grab onto Leon and bite down on his shoulders.
"Ah, fuck! I'm so sorry, Leon!"
Leon cries out in pain as he thrashes around, trying to get the zombie to release. You press on your mouse frantically, watching Leon's health bar rapidly deplete at a dangerous pace, the longer the zombie bites down on Leon's shoulders. Leon reaches for his hatchet and attacks the zombie, causing it to back away.
"I really need to learn how to properly parry and aim." You grumble, aiming Leon's requiem gun at the zombie and shoot, only to miss again. "Man, I'm making Leon look uncool, what the fuck."
The zombie lunges at Leon again, and before you can panic, Leon dodges under the zombie's arm and shoots it at the back of its head. The adrenaline dies down, and Leon is left alone in the rehabilitation ward, surrounded by headless zombies.
The only sounds you hear are the sounds of the chainsaw and Leon's heavy breathing, his health bar yellow rather than green. Before escaping the ward, you have Leon search around the room for a healing item. You could use the green herb in your inventory, but it's not enough to fully heal Leon.
"It's okay, Leon! You're going to be okay! You're not going to die under my watch, no matter how bad I am with aiming and parrying." You reassure the DSO agent, picking up the mixed herbs from the glass cabinet that Leon broke. After picking up the mixed herbs, you immediately use them, watching Leon's health bar slightly go up.
You continue playing the game until almost four in the morning, only having to end your gameplay after Leon's cut scene with Victor Gideon after your Mom peeks into your room, scaring the shit out of you.
"Why are you still awake?!" Your Mom asks, staring at you in horror.
You point at your monitor, a cut scene of Leon tied up to a chair playing on your screen. Your Mom peeks at your computer and sighs, shaking her head before leaving your room, muttering under her breath about how you need to stop staying up so late.
You turn back to your monitor, taking multiple screenshots of Leon tied to the chair while Victor Gideon is almost sweet-talking to the DSO agent. You stare at Leon in awe, mouth agape. The side view of Leon on? Whew! His biceps are looking extra delicious.
You bite your bottom lip. "God, I would love to sink my teeth into those biceps of his." You lean back in your seat, groaning. "The ladies at Capcom did a fantastic job at designing Leon."
You watch Victor Gideon touch Leon, almost oh-so intimately. The way his gray fingers brush the strands of Leon's brown and silver hair. Ugh. You're so envious of Victor's privilege to even be in the presence of Leon Kennedy. You make sure to take multiple screenshots of Leon—frame by frame.
Leon can hear the camera shutters, raising an eyebrow. It's strange how Victor Gideon is touching him, and yet this voice in his head is swooning over him being tied up and touched by the former T-Virus researcher. Of course, he doesn't hear you mention a single thing about Victor, only about wanting to sink your teeth into his (your words, not his) beefy biceps.
"I don't like how he's touching you, Leon. He's practically fondling you." You grumble. "I should be the one to do that, not him. Just like how I should be the one to lunge at you and sink my teeth into your biceps, not those greedy zombies."
The camera cuts to Leon looking down while Victor Gideon softly says, "Are the answers to your disease here?" after pulling down Leon's shirt collar. Victor leans down, his face not far from Leon's. "Yes…." Victor whispers.
Leon flinches, his face pinching up with disgust. "You know, I do have a question," Leon says, looking at Victor, deadpanned. "When was the last time you brushed your teeth?"
Leon hears immediate laughter coming from you after asking. Leon's tempted to laugh as well, but because of the predicament he's in, he doesn't smile. The smile on Victor's face slips off, and he backs away from Leon and takes a few steps in front of Leon.
Mechanical whirring can be heard from Leon's end as Victor stares at him, zooming in on his face and his eyes. You take a quick screenshot, thanking Victor for being oddly meticulous when it comes to Leon. If it weren't for Victor, you wouldn't have a lot of screenshots of Leon added to your new collection.
The cut scene soon ends with you taking over fifty screenshots (you're pressing down on the screenshot button, taking screenshots of every frame), and you find yourself back in control of Leon. You frown, letting out a wistful sigh. "I'm going to need to find a stopping point and go to bed. Let's trigger an auto save somewhere, and I'll continue when I wake up." You say to yourself.
You make it to where Leon needs to go and stop in front of a metal cabinet storage that's blocking a doorway. You poke the inside of your cheek with your tongue, approaching said cabinet storage with a cheeky smile. Oh, you are going to enjoy this!
You press 'F,' and Leon starts lifting the cabinet to move it out of the way, his biceps and back muscles flexing as he lets out a grunt. Before Leon successfully moves the cabinet out of the way, you suddenly release the 'F' key.
"Oh, fuck, my hands slipped." You say to no one.
It's a good thing Leon's back is facing your monitor because if it were facing his direction, you would've seen an eye roll from him along with a shy smile. Leon knows what you're doing; he's not stupid. You press the 'F' key again, watching Leon lift the cabinet, his biceps flexing underneath that tight shirt of his. Again, before Leon can fully move the obstacle out of the way, you release the keys.
You huff. "Man, my keyboard is messed up. I really need to get a new one because for some reason, it's not lasting long," You say with a shit-eating grin on your face. "I have a bad feeling that this keyboard is going to give me… issues the longer I play this game with a broken keyboard."
"Oh, yeah?" Leon mutters, shaking his head with a small smirk, his shoulders shaking from his quiet laughter. He can get used to hearing your commentary while he's handling the shit show that's happening at Rhodes Hill Chronic Care Center.
Finally, after some time, you finally have Leon move the metal cabinet, relishing in the sight of his muscles flexing underneath his shirt, and the sound of his grunts as he does so. Leon S. Kennedy, the man that you are! The autosave button appears in the top left corner of the screen, signaling you to go to bed.
With a heavy heart, you bid Leon goodnight—as if he could hear you—before pausing and exiting the game. You plop onto your bed after the game closes and roll on your bed, eyelids feeling heavy after staring at your monitor for who knows how long. You close your eyes and drift into a dreamless sleep.
A few hours into your sleep, you wake up to the feeling of your bedroom shaking, forcing yourself to crack your eyes open briefly and stare up at the ceiling, still groggy from your slumber. You rub your eyes, mumbling to yourself, and turn over on your right side before going back to sleep. Earthquakes are common, so waking up to one isn't out of the ordinary. Nothing seems out of the norm, but little did you know, this isn't any other earthquake you've dealt with in the past.
That is, until you wake up to someone shaking you nonstop. "Hey, can you hear me? Wake up!" The voice says as the shaking continues.
You groan, trying to turn over and ignore whoever is shaking you. "Not now." You mumble, eyebrows furrowing.
Whoever is shaking you is very persistent, as they continue to do something to try to rouse you from your sleep. The person starts lightly patting your cheek, muttering about how you need to wake up and stop ignoring them. You finally crack your eyes open after a while, vision blurry from your sleep. A blurry face is hovering above yours, but as your vision gradually clears up, your heart nearly falls into your ass.
"Leon?" You whisper in disbelief, mind still foggy from your sleep.
Leon chuckles, sighing in relief. "Hey, Sleeping Beauty. Good to see those eyes of yours," Leon says, his eyes scanning the littlest details on your face. "I was worried you weren't going to wake up, but it seems like you're not a morning person, huh."
You don't respond to Leon as you slowly reach up and cup his face with both your hands, still trying to comprehend what's happening. Surely this is a dream, right? You did play Resident Evil Requiem for hours before going to bed, and Leon's the last thing you were thinking about before drifting to sleep.
"This is the most vivid dream I have ever had," You mutter, still holding Leon's face in your hands. "Man, it's going to be so disappointing when I wake up."
Leon stares down at you, confused. "What are you talking about?"
You shake your head, head falling to the side before sighing sadly. "This is the best dream I've ever had, and yet I'm going to get a rude awakening very soon once this ends." You lament.
"Aw, man. I think you hit your head pretty hard when you fell," Leon mutters, feeling around your head for a possible concussion.
You blink at Leon. "Of course, I fell for you. Who wouldn't fall for you?"
Leon shakes his head, the corner of his lips curling up. Despite everything, you still manage to be a sweet talker, much to Leon's amusement. Then again, you do think that this is all a dream. Leon's fingers brush a certain area on your head, earning a hiss from you. "I can feel a goose egg forming."
Now that your mind clears up and you're more awake than you were, you come to the realization that Leon is cradling you in his arms—his beefy arms. Wait, that means that his bicep is your pillow. You rub your eyes again, sitting up and looking around to see that you're not in your room. This dream is a bit too realistic for your liking, because why are you in the attic of Rhodes Hill Chronic Care Center?
Panic hits you like a train. Your head snaps towards Leon's direction. "This is a dream, right? I'm still asleep in my bed, right?" You start pinching yourself, but nothing is happening. "Oh, my god. This can't be real. This has to be a dream."
Leon doesn't say anything. Instead, he continues to stare at you, taking in every detail of your face, your hair, and your clothes. The longer Leon listens to you ramble, the more he realizes something.
His eyes light up. "You're the voice I've been hearing," Leon says, his arm still holding you up.
His comment makes you go silent. "Pardon?" You press your lips into a thin line. "What do you mean?"
Leon's lips curl up into a smile, shaking his head. "I don't think now is a good time to tell you when you're having an inner turmoil."
Maybe a hug will help you calm down a little, but given the things he heard you say a few hours before your arrival, it probably won't help. But it won't hurt to try, right? Leon pulls you into his arms, hugging you. Your cheek is cushioned against his chest, his beefy arms around your torso, and his chin is resting atop your head.
You wrap your arms around Leon's neck, feeling yourself melting in his arms. God, it feels so nice to hug him. You can't describe what it's like to hug Leon, but you can live in his arms if it's possible. You and Leon sit like that for a while. It doesn't feel weird or uncomfortable to be hugging someone you don't know—a fictional one, to be specific.
It's comforting and gives you a small window to collect your thoughts. You went to bed, but woke up to an earthquake before falling back asleep. Then you're roused from your sleep by Leon, who claimed that you hit your head when you fell. This is all so strange.
"How the hell did I get isekai'd into Resident Evil Requiem? I didn't get hit by a truck." You mutter to yourself, but it's loud enough for Leon to hear.
Leon raises his eyebrows, leaning down to look at your face from the side. "What does 'isekai' mean? And what do you mean by getting hit by a truck?" God, the creases between his eyebrows are so cute. You'd love to smooth the wrinkles over with your fingers.
"I will explain that to you after you tell me what you meant by 'you're the voice I've been hearing,'" You reply, looking up at him.
Leon stares at you for a moment, chuckling to himself. "Alright, alright, I'll tell you what I meant when I said that," Leon caves in.
Leon's not sure if he should look forward to your reaction after he explains everything to you. But hey, you did say that you want him to explain what he meant by what he said, so who is he to deny you? As Leon explains everything, he watches your reaction and body language closely.
The way your face fell was both comical and endearing because now you're covering your face out of sheer embarrassment, but you didn't cover your ears, letting him know that you're still listening despite your reaction. By the time Leon is done explaining, he has a wide smile on his face, the crow's feet at the corner of his eyes becoming noticeable.
You take a deep breath, trying not to have a mental breakdown after hearing Leon's explanation. "You heard everything." You say. Suddenly, you feel faint, but you can't faint in front of Leon. You can't embarrass yourself in front of Leon for the umpteenth time in a row.
Leon nods, still smiling. "That is correct."
"My cursing whenever you get bitten by a zombie."
"You curse like a sailor, but also like a child who was granted permission to curse by her parents." He replies.
You immediately protest. "What! No, I don't!" Do you? Man, this just keeps getting worse and worse for you. "… You also heard my thirst over your…"
"Beefy biceps, me using my hatchet to crack open a warped door, and you claiming that your keyboard is broken when I need to move the fallen metal cabinet in front of a doorway. I can go on, but I'm afraid that you'll have a heart attack if I continue." Leon says.
You hug your knees to your chest. At this point, you're more likely to die from embarrassment than from a zombie bite. You didn't know that Leon can hear everything you say! Does that mean Grace and Victor hear the things you say, too?
You peek at Leon, "Please tell me that no one else hears the things I say." You whisper.
Leon gives your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "You don't need to worry about that. As far as I know, I was the only person who heard your voice. It doesn't seem like Victor heard your voice, and as for that FBI agent—Grace Ashcroft, I'm not entirely sure."
After Leon's explanation, you choose to stay quiet. There's no need for you to embarrass yourself again in front of Leon, right? Leon checks his watch, and when he looks up, you're staring at him with stars in your eyes. Leon is even more beautiful in person. His hair looks so soft and healthy for someone who bleaches his hair often. God, the stubble… You love the scratchiness of it when you cupped his face in your hands.
Leon doesn't say anything; instead, he lets you do what makes you happy and stay sane. His eyes are blue, but they're not nearly as blue as it was when he was in his early twenties. Maybe they're still the same blue, but you would need to get a closer look at it—if he catches your drift.
"I love how you kept your signature hairstyle after all these years…" You murmur, leaning side to side as your eyes continue taking in every detail of him.
"Now it's your turn to explain to me what 'isekai' means," Leon comments, crossing his arms over his chest.
You quickly glance at Leon's bulging biceps before looking back at him innocently. His biceps looked at you first, so it's only fair for you to look at them in return. "Where do I start…" You trail off, tapping on your chin.
So you start explaining to Leon what isekai means, giving him a rundown on it, its origins, and how there's a handful of animated shows (specifically anime) that have this concept. Leon is intrigued, but also confused. The look of confusion on Leon's handsome face is cute. His eyebrows are furrowing, his head tilting to the side while not taking his eyes off of you for one bit.
You subconsciously reach forward and gently press on the space between his eyebrows, smoothing the creases between his brows. Man, even Leon has soft skin for someone who goes through hell. You meet Leon's eyes, causing you to quickly retract your hand before apologizing sheepishly.
"After explaining to me what 'isekai' meant, it makes sense. Is there a way for you to return to your world?" Leon asks.
You frown dramatically. "Aw, you want to return me to sender already? I'm hurt." You joke, clutching your chest playfully. "I thought you would enjoy my company after going through the horrors of having to deal with Victor Gideon caressing you lovingly."
You turn around and face the wall, pretending to be offended by what he asked. Leon shudders at the memory of Victor's fingers brushing through his hair, fingers ghosting over the dark blotches on his neck after lowering the collar of his shirt. That is not a pleasant memory, and he certainly wishes he could erase it.
"Your presence is a breath of fresh air. I'm merely asking because I don't think you would want to stay and deal with what's waiting for us," Leon replies, reaching forward and grabbing your forearm and turning you around to face him.
You can just melt in his arms right now. You've imagined this very moment, but in a different scenario. Leon Kennedy grabs your arm to stop you from leaving, gazing at you with those dazzling blue eyes of his, his eyebrows knitting together as he pleads for you not to leave. And the way he says it? It'll be soft, making you weak at the knees.
"By the way, you never introduced yourself. You know my name, but I don't know yours." Leon adds, pulling you out of your thoughts.
Your eyes widen. "Oh, crap! You're right! How could I forget?" You smack your forehead before introducing yourself to Leon. After telling Leon your first and last name, Leon stares at you while muttering your full name to himself. Heat rushes to your face the longer he does it.
After what feels like forever, Leon smiles and nods. "Your name suits you. I like it. Your parents must've put a lot of thought and love into naming you."
You stare at Leon, mouth agape. Why did he have to say that? Leon raises an eyebrow at you, smiling in amusement. Without saying anything, you cover your face with both hands as heat continues rushing to your face. This man can effortlessly make you blush like a schoolgirl.
You groan behind your hands. "What are you doing to me?! It's not fair. You know you have this effect on me! Damn you, Leon Scott Kennedy!" You whine.
If only you could evaporate right now. Maybe Leon was up to something when he asked if there was a way for you to return to your world, because how much longer can you handle being in the presence of Leon S. Kennedy? The only thing you hear is laughter coming from Leon—his laugh is soft, very gentle. You peek between your fingers to see him shaking his head, a wide smile on his face as he gazes at the wooden floor.
Realization hits you. You're so fucked. There's not a single man in your life—real and fictional—who has made you feel this way before. Until Leon S. Kennedy happened. You love every version of Leon, but there's something about forty-nine-year-old Leon Kennedy. Aside from his looks, there's something that makes you feel so warm and gooey inside when he shows up on your screen.
You look at an imaginary camera, hands falling on your lap before sighing. "I'm so fucked." You whisper, shaking your head in disbelief. "Okay, let's kill some zombies and get the hell out of here."
You push yourself off the ground, feeling around for the so-called goose egg Leon felt on your head, while Leon gets off the ground and brushes the dust off his ass. Leon grabs your wrist, preventing you from finding this goose egg. You look at Leon, frowning.
He wags his pointer finger at you, shaking his head. "Don't search for it."
"Fine." You mumble, lowering your arm, but Leon doesn't let go of your wrist.
You blink at him, looking back and forth from your hands to Leon's face. Leon doesn't say anything and starts looking for an exit with you in tow, his hand still wrapped around your wrist. You will take that as a win because Leon is holding your hand, kind of! You peek at Leon and wiggle your wrist to hold his hand.
You and Leon soon come across the familiar metal cabinet that's blocking the entrance. Your heart nearly sinks into the pit of your stomach when you realize what you're about to face soon. This is strange; you could've sworn that you moved the cabinet before ending the game right there.
"Step back. I don't want you to get hurt." Leon says, gently nudging you to the side, and starts lifting the cabinet.
You press your lips into a thin line and cover your mouth, watching his back muscles and biceps flex under the fabric of his shirt. Leon grunts and starts lifting the metal cabinet. You bite your lower lip, enticed by what you're seeing and hearing.
After a few minutes, Leon successfully moves the cabinet out of the way. He fixes his shirt before pulling out his gun from the holster. Leon turns to you to see you staring at him in a daze, earning an eyebrow raise and smirk from him. You quickly snap out of it, acting like you weren't ogling him just now.
"So, do I follow you into that room or do I wait out here until you finish your, uh, duty?" You ask, rubbing the back of your neck.
You don't know how much has changed since your sudden arrival in this universe, but you're hoping it's not much change, but who knows?
Leon holds his hand out and gestures for you to follow him. "I'm not leaving you behind, are you crazy?"
"For you? Yes." Is your automatic response. You slap your hand over your mouth and squeeze your eyes shut. "I mean, let's go and get this over with!" You say, grabbing his hand and walking through the entrance with Leon in tow.
You're always amazed by your ability to humiliate yourself. This has got to be a new record for you. Once you and Leon step through that door, everything shifts. The atmosphere, the mood, the air, and the sound. You hear squelching coming from the other side of the room.
Think of someone chewing with their mouth open, but multiply that by a thousand. That's how loud it is in person. The squelching is accompanied by deep rumbles. You and Leon trade looks with each other before slowly making your way through the room, making sure Leon picks up ammo for his guns.
Leon stops in his tracks, holding his arm out in front of you before looking over his shoulder at you. "You're going to have to trust me on this, alright?" Leon murmurs.
You look at him, confused. "What are you planning? Should I be worried?" You whisper.
Leon doesn't respond and continues walking towards where the disturbing sound is coming from. You swallow the lump in your throat when you eye the grotesque creature towering over a dead body, feasting on its rotting flesh. The smell is rancid, making your stomach churn.
You grip the back of Leon's shirt, lightly tugging it. "How can you handle a smell like that when you're dealing with these things?" You mutter to him, tempted to bury your face into his back to block out the smell of decomposition and blood.
"When you're constantly out on the field dealing with these things, you'd get used to it."
You raise an eyebrow at his response. "But you recoiled when you caught a whiff of Victor's breath." You point out.
Leon snorts. "Smelling rotting flesh and bad breath are two different things. Besides, who knows how long it's been since he has brushed his teeth?"
"Can't argue with that."
You continue following Leon around the room while he collects ammo for his guns, occasionally peeking from behind him to get a look at the mutated being. For something that large, you're shocked that it hasn't heard you and Leon walking around the vicinity.
"Do you trust me?" Leon asks suddenly, turning towards you.
You falter. "Uh, yes, I do trust you—even though we met not long ago. I'm surprised you trust me despite the things I put you through." You refer to your failed aiming and parrying before you were isekai'd into Resident Evil Requiem.
Leon chuckles, shaking his head. "Of course, I trust you. You're the only one who kept me sane at the start of this shit show." Leon replies.
Leon turns around and aims his gun at the ravenous, mutated creature and shoots it in the head with his shotgun. You flinch at the sound, gripping his shirt hard as you watch the creature stop munching on the corpse and turn towards your and Leon's direction.
Fueled by rage and anger, the chunky zombie roars. "Food! Food! Food!" He growls, getting ready to charge towards you and Leon.
"Hope I'm not next," Leon mutters.
Before you can say anything, Leon quickly turns around, grabs you by the waist, and tosses you over his shoulders before making a run for it. Upside down, you wrap your arms around his waist, whimpering as the monster gets closer to you and Leon. You certainly didn't sign up for this when you got isekai'd, but hey, you didn't sign up to be isekai'd in general!
"Leon! He's getting closer!" You whimper, patting his lower back.
Leon loads his shotgun, making sharp turns to avoid getting grabbed by the ravenous creature. Leon picks up a med injector from a wall that was broken by the monster, along with the shotgun shells and handgun ammo. Leon quickly grabs onto the ladder and climbs up. You nearly flip over if it weren't for Leon's quick reflexes and your iron grip around his waist.
"Are you sure I'm not getting in the way?" You ask, lifting your head to look at Leon. "I feel like I'm adding more weight on you. Metaphorically and literally."
Leon pats the back of your thighs. "You're fine, you're not getting in the way or adding weight on me," Leon reassures you.
Leon quickly puts you down on the platform, fixes his gear, and gestures for you to get on his shoulders by squatting in front of you. You climb over Leon, stomach resting on his shoulders, while your arms are wrapped around his waist. Leon wraps one arm over the back of your thighs, checking to see where the mutated monster is.
On cue, the chunky mutated monster, which you found out is named Timothy from the note Leon read to you, appears at the bottom of the platform. Timothy growls and tries reaching for you and Leon, but Leon shoots him in the face with his shotgun, but Timothy's not phased by it.
Timothy starts climbing up the platform, causing you to involuntarily flinch. "Leon…" You plead, patting Leon's thighs. "We need to move, or else we will be on Timothy's menu!"
Leon tightens his grip on your legs. "Brace yourself."
Before you can process what Leon's doing, you suddenly feel airborne. Your heart is in your throat as you cling to Leon for dear life. Leon lands on the ground with a grunt and shoots Timothy a few more times before making a run for it, loading his shotgun.
The chase lasted five more minutes because Timothy was very motivated to get both you and Leon. Finally, Timothy stops, and blood starts spewing out of the holes and gashes on his body that he received from the shotgun shells and Leon's hatchet.
While Timothy is gushing all over the place, Leon walks to the other end of the room to collect extra items that are lying around before putting you back on the ground once Timothy explodes. You brush off your clothes and turn to Leon, propping your hands on your hips and watching him reload his shotgun before switching to his other handgun.
"You know, when I said that I wanted to be manhandled by you, this isn't what I imagined." You comment.
Leon shakes his head, chuckling. "Don't worry, there will be plenty of time for that. Come on, let's get out of here." Leon gestures for you to follow him as he walks towards the door where the rotting corpse—Timothy's final meal—is lying.
You stare at Leon, mouth agape. What does he mean by that?! Wait, Leon is probably implying other boss fights that are waiting for both you and Leon. You really need to get your head out of the gutter. You follow behind Leon, shuddering when you step in the pool of blood that was once Timothy.
Leon grabs the hand grenade from the puddle of blood and continues walking to the exit. Finally, you and Leon will get to leave this place and face more horrors waiting for both of you. Leon unlatches the door and pushes it open, occasionally looking over his shoulder to make sure you're still following him.
You and Leon come across a wooden closet with a warped door. Leon walks to it, grabs his hatchet, lodges it between the doors, and starts prying them open. You bite your bottom lip, watching his biceps flex as he tries to open it. Once the door bursts open and Leon grabs whatever is inside, you look away, trying to act like you weren't drooling over him.
"Ready to go?" Leon asks, turning to you as he puts the mod on his handgun.
You nod, tucking your hair behind your ear. "Yeah! Are you ready to go?" You ask, looking at him from the corner of your eyes.
"Of course, I am. I'm always ready." Leon says softly, walking past you while gently nudging you to follow him by patting your lower back.
You bite the inside of your cheek, screaming internally. You really need to get yourself together because you're acting like a cat in heat. Leon pushes the red button, and the attic opens; the metal ladder slides down, and Leon starts climbing down.
Once Leon gets off the ladder, you start climbing down, shuddering when you see the amount of blood in the office. The whole time while you're climbing down the ladder, Leon's keeping an eye out while holding out his hands to catch you just in case you slip. You step into the puddle of infected blood, groaning with disgust.
"You'd get used to it," Leon says. "Come on, we need to find Victor Gideon's office."
You follow Leon out of the Chairman's office, on edge about whether zombies are roaming around or not. You don't think there's any zombies roaming around cause you killed most of them when you were playing as Grace. You come across another warped closet outside of the Chairman's office, and you sit back and watch Leon do his thing.
"You're really enjoying this, aren't you?" Leon asks, turning to you after taking the handgun ammo and shotgun shells.
You look at Leon, flabbergasted. "Wha—is a lady not allowed to admire a total eye candy in front of her?" You huff, crossing your arms over your chest. "I have had enough of your teasing! Let's find Victor's office." You stick your nose in the air and walk towards the bar and lounge room.
Leon pinches the bridge of his nose, chuckling. "You truly do make this more entertaining than it should be."
The minute you walk into the bar and lounge room, a zombie in a white button-up starts contorting violently while screaming in agony. You walk backwards frantically, bumping into Leon as the zombie gets off the ground and his head morphs into something more horrifying.
"This place is infested," Leon mutters, shaking his head, and aims his gun at the blister head that's running towards both of you. Leon shoots, and the bullet penetrates the zombie's head, causing it to burst, and blood spews everywhere like a water fountain.
You sigh, turning to Leon. "Can you teach me how to shoot one day? You know, in case I have to fight for both of us."
Leon chuckles, shaking his head. "Of course. I can show you when we come across another zombie."
You and Leon continue searching for Victor's office. Instead of having you walk behind or in front of him, Leon makes sure you're by his side at all times because you'd never know when a zombie will sneak up from behind or jump out of nowhere.
As you're both walking up the stairs to the third floor of the sanatorium, you and Leon hear a faint beeping and gurgling from a zombie. Leon hands you his handgun and gestures for you to follow him quietly. Once the zombie is in your and Leon's line of sight, Leon quickly adjusts the gun in your hand, angling your arms a certain way.
"Make sure to have a firm grasp on the gun so it doesn't recoil and hit you in the face," Leon murmurs, his chest pressing up against your back. "Okay, now, you can either shoot the zombie or the red propane tank. I would go for the explosive canister because it's quicker, and who knows how many shots it'll take to kill the zombie."
Taking Leon's advice, you point the handgun towards the red gas tank and shoot. The red canister in the zombie's hand explodes, taking the zombie out with it. You tilt your head up and see Leon's smile as you lower the gun.
Leon pats your shoulders, "Not bad."
"But not good either." You pout dramatically. "Okay, let's go kick Victor Gideon's ass, Leon!" You grab his wrist and drag him up the stairs to another warped door—much to your delight.
Leon shakes his head as he pulls out his hatchet and starts prying the doors open. Once Leon successfully opens the door, you and Leon enter the room and look around to see many bodies with no heads. You immediately latch yourself against Leon, trembling as Leon picks up the paper on the ground.
"Burst their heads if you want to survive."
On cue, you and Leon hear the familiar screams of agony close to the entrance where you and Leon came. This is not what you expected when you got isekai'd into Resident Evil Requiem. Leon shields you from the blister head and starts shooting the head over and over until the zombie finally dies. He leads to the corner of the room where the other zombie lies and takes the shotgun shells and handgun ammo from the vase.
"Do you trust me?" Leon asks, loading his shotgun and handgun.
You nod. "Of course, I do." You answer.
"Good, cause you're going to need to trust me on this." Leon leans down and tosses you over his shoulders just when another blister head bursts through the door to the meeting room.
You squeeze your eyes shut and cling to Leon's torso as he shoots the blister heads and storms the meeting room, where another blister head is getting ready to charge at Leon. This is going to be a long night, and the worst thing is that you're not even sure if you'll return to your world after all this.
Note: I love how in almost every Leon fics I've typed out, I would be kicking my feet and twirling my hair cause I'm having the time of my life typing Leon fics. I completed insanity mode for RE9, and I feel like I've been through hell and back; I finished that game one minute faster than the standard classic mode, somehow. Every time I write a new Leon fic, I replay RE9 because I miss Leon and want to see him tied up. Anyway, to all my new and returning readers, keep in mind that I ONLY post on my Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and my AO3 (Aaliah_exo)! Nowhere else except Tumblr and AO3!
Read more of my works on my Grand Masterlist, which contains every masterlist I have created! | Maybe support me by tipping me on Ko-Fi or by reblogging my fanfics! ^^ I will also be posting exclusive fanfics on Ko-Fi as well very soon! I might post all of my stories there, too, but who knows? You can also tip me on Tumblr if you'd like, as a way to show support! ^^
Join the Discord to get future fic updates and connect with other readers, maybe?:) Raccoon City Sanctuary
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Even though I make [Name] in the isekai trope being a sweetheart to Leon but they will run far away from him if he ever try to confessed his feelings to them, because they don't want to be his "Second choice."
Until his crazy ass somehow appear in real life and give them more reason to run away from all the red flags. 🚩
I don’t condone or approve of any of these actions. This is all fiction, entertainment and a way to vent what was on my mind.
Warnings: AU, non con, coercion, knife play, lacerations, marking, kidnapping, violence, mentions of human experimentation, oral, p in v, spanking, handcuffs, double p, asphyxiation, breeding kink.
Steps are heard in the hallway and the only door of the room opens revealing Albert Wesker with traces of blood in his hands.
Zeno keeps moving inside me, but slower, as if analysing the blonde’s reaction.
I'm frozen. I try to take in what I'm seeing. The blood. The satisfaction in his expression.
It can't be… Leon. Chris.
Seeing my horrified expression, the blonde smirks at me before taking off his gloves and throwing them to the floor.
I tense, making Zeno groan from the pressure, and his nails leave crescent marks around my waist as he presses himself against me again.
“Sorry for the wait, dear heart. I was giving Redfield a little visit.” Albert says while putting his guns in a drawer next to the sofa.
This bitch.
“Leave the captain alone!” I yell. Zeno gives my ass another spank. I gasp and close my fists behind my back feeling my nails dig into my palms. My raw skin burns again and tears well into my eyes. But I refuse to let them fall, so I grit my teeth instead. I hear them chuckle.
Fuck them.
Movement returns my orbs back on the mad scientist who walks towards us and stops right in front of me. I try to look away since my face is right next to his crotch, but he takes a fistful of my hair, reminding my scalp of the searing pain, and raises my head as he also lowers himself. If, to tease me or provoque me, I'm not sure.
“Chris a captain, dear? What a joke.”
Don't say anything. That's what he wants.
I resist my urges to let my smart mouth free again. Instead I look aside. Not for an exit. That would be useless. For anything else beside him. I don't want to see him. I don't want him to exist. Any of them. I don't want anything that's happening right now. Even if the burn in my head and my insides remind me of how real it is to an aggravating point.
But Albert Wesker is not satisfied with my reaction. With one finger of his free hand he moves my face towards him again with the strength of a soothing touch and the weight of a heavy threat.
“He's never been able to protect anyone. No one. Both of them are a pair of useless little…”
And I snap.
I bite his finger. To my dismay he doesn't seem to be pained at all. The blonde doesn't even try to take it away. He just stares at me with an emotionless face. His eyes rise momentarily to the albino before going back to me.
“Release him, darling. I'm sure your ass is feeling raw enough.” Zeno threatens. I pay no mind to it. Instead I bite harder. This time the blonde feels something, as he momentarily flinches. They may have turned into monsters but they still feel pain. But he still doesn't try to pull, instead the scientist raises an eyebrow as if testing how far I will go. I feel Zeno take my throat from behind and get closer. I feel my own pulse against his hand. “If you don't I'm going to make sure to rearrange your guts even if we have to reconstruct them afterwards.” I tremble and slowly let go of them.
But the peace only lasts a fraction.
Albert pulls my hair but instead of taking his finger out, he shoves two more to the back of my throat and pushes to my esophagus. That with Zeno's hand still around makes breathing impossible for me. I move my arms behind my back, panicked.
It's useless.
I try to breathe through my nose but nothing seems to help. I, for the first time, look at Albert Wesker pleading. Instead of any mercy, he just mocks at me with a grin and waits.
And they keep still.
While I choke.
I'm breathless.
No movement.
Help.
Please.
Tears fall now free of restraint.
“Looks like we will have to put your mouth to good use, won't we?” Spats proud, Albert.
I hear his words but can't process them right. Oxygen is not reaching my lungs enough and my mind is getting dizzy with a great red danger signal in front of everything else. Finally, he takes his digits out and begins to undo his belt. I take all the air until my lungs get full and cough when they do.
They are mad in the head.
My eyes close wishing for an exit that I know doesn't exist. I hear clothes still moving. My broken voice asks pleadingly.
“Are they alive?” None of them answer. “Please!” I beg, desperate. “Zeno, please…” Wishing for the man who despite his previous actions seems more reasonable.
“For now.” The original says smirking to the clone. I can't see the albino, but I can imagine the nearly identical expression on his face.
“That depends on you, darling. You will be good, right?” Says the silver haired from behind me. I make the best nod movement their restraints allow me.
The man in front of me stands, my head follows his movement and makes my neck hurt from the uncomfortable angle.
“Will you?” The blonde psycho asks mockingly. “Then beg for it, dear heart. Beg for my cock.” He orders. The other man laughs. My cheeks burn from embarrassment. It's not my first time begging for something like that. Military men like their authority and my sexual preferences don't help much. But the situation and the fact that there's someone else in the room, even if his penis is already deep into my insides, makes it much, much more mortifying.
Kill me now. Here we go.
“I need your cock, please.” I say barely loud enough to be heard.
“Not quite.”
I'm clueless. What does he want? His ego boosted?
“I need your cock, please, sir.” I say a little louder.
“Well, that's better. Getting closer. Try again.” He mocks me.
“Please, give me your cock Dr. Wesker.” I stumble, getting tired of his games. My neck feels strained.
“Nearly there, Ms. Kennedy. You know what I want to hear. You just just said it to Zeno here.”
Nearly there? What does that even mean? With… oh. Maybe… no. It can't be… not with his ego… right?
“Please, give me your cock,...” I stop, thinking what are my chances of survival if I'm wrong. “...Albert…” I try.
As if those were the magical words, he bottoms out my mouth pushing again against my throat.
“Good fucking girl.” He hisses, still pulling from my hair. His head is tilting back, enjoying the pleasure he gets as I try to accommodate his girth. “You're more clever than your stupid boss and your brother together.”
“See, Darling? You know how to follow instructions.” Says Zeno sweetly, beginning to move again slowly as if he wasn't balls in deep against my will. Albert's dick also pushes, first slow and teasing but deeper and faster at every thrust.
As their rhythm increases, my eyes get wet again. My boobs and hips collide against the table every time they compenetrate their movements.
The blonde observes how water accumulate on my eyelids.
"These beautiful tears of yours. I'll make you spill them all as a compensation for wasting our time." He announces before a deeper thrust.
I feel a globed hand reach for my clit and pinch. I choke on the wood in my mouth at the sudden painful pleasure, earning a grunt and a pull of hair.
The already fast movements turn rougher and erratic. They push constantly against my walls.
They go on and on until I'm unsure if their actual speed is human anymore or my body will really break.
I feel Zeno push himself deep inside and stop moving, keeping my hips in place while the man in front of me keeps moving. The albino spills inside me, pushing the head against what I think is the door of my cervix.
Fuck. No. No no no no no no.
As if sensing what's on my mind, Zeno huffs and doesn't pull out.
Albert seems to get off with my desperate face. He pulls my head until my nose grazes his semitrimed pelvic hair, and comes deep into my throat, taking away my choice to not fill my stomach with his remains. Indeed my tears finally fall as I tremble.
I wish I could feel peace in the moment of silence their orgasm grants me. But my mind plays against me. I imagine Leon and Chris bloodied and tortured by the man who just fucked my mouth. Still in a dungeon guarded by guys with gun machines.
I wish I was there with them.
Guilt plagues me. I feel like I'm just worrying about myself, but at this moment my self pity weighs far more than anything else I can imagine.
My focus is broken by the two of them finally moving out.
I try to gag and throw up the white substance.
“Don't you dare.” A grave voice spats from above.
Prick.
Albert walks to where Zeno was while this one walks in front of me. He takes my chin with his hand, making me look up at his face. I obey, with no energy to fight against it. He looks pleased at my compliance. Behind me I feel a pair of hands explore my ass. Tracing patterns that are probably the remains of the other’s fingerprints.
With no wait at all, the blonde puts his feet between mine, and pushes his dick inside me again. Maybe due to tiredness or to genetics it feels really similar to the clone's.
An abrupt spank makes me scoop forward to scrape the sudden pain. I turn my head to look at the cruel scientist only to see him mapping the red figures with his eyes behind the lenses.
“So red and raw. Absolutely breathtaking. Looks like Zeno here did a good job. Maybe by the end of this you will finally reflect on your actions and be pliant for us." The blonde's implications are not lost on me. A future I cannot foresee appears in front of me.
What did I even do… I just want to go home…
“I highly recommend you learn fast, darling. It will be easier for all of us.” Encourages the albino walking away. No more tears fall. My eyes dry.
Hollow.
Numb.
I let my body fall on the desk. In the absence of Zeno, my head rests on the end of the desk, eyes closed. I hear them murmure something, but dizziness prevents me from catching on to anything at all.
My eyes open as I feel Albert drag his growing erection out of my hole. I see a pair of golden eyes looking at me as he grabs something from his jacket.
As I'm manhandled by the blonde with my back on the wooden surface, my own arms getting numb under my weight, Zeno drinks from one of those silver whiskey flasks.
Albert takes my legs by the back of my knees as if preparing to get inside me already.
“Open up, dear.” He cheers. Confused, I frown. A hand appears from behind and tilts my head back.
The next thing I feel is Zeno’s mouth on mine, and his tongue and whisky burning though my already raw and bruised throat. The silver haired man doesn't stop, not even when I try to pull away as I feel Albert’s member pushing lazily inside me until there's no more space to fill. I have no chance to complain or wail as Zeno keeps making out with my mouth. When he separates from me he licks the rears from his lips.
The mad scientist pressing on my sensitive button demands my attention.
“Please…” I blurt right before he pinched my clit and I moan again.
I can't cum anymore.
I roll my eyes back and stick my tongue out due to the pleasure. Movement the clone takes advantage to thrust his now hardening cock into my mouth. I dizzily glaze at his still veiny full rocks. A high pitched sound comes from my now full mouth as both of them push at the same time.
How is that even possible at this point? What's wrong with their sex drive?
The original and his clone start to accelerate, released of their inhibitions. All their frustrations are thrown into me. I close my eyes again, too tired to do anything. Too tired to restrain my wails and moans any longer.
They keep going. Pushing and pulling. Sometimes at the same time. A few, the opposite of one another. And at some point at completely different rhythms.
Albert goes fast and hard, not caring much for my suffering and encouraged by my heavily lubricated walls that barely offer resistance anymore. His hand still moving and abusing my clit is the only proof of sanity he displays.
Zeno, who has already come once more than the blonde, goes deeper but with sensuality instead of harshness. He goes as far as he can and drags himself practically out, only to push deep again. My throat thanks him deep inside for his current restraint. His hand moves past my chin, grazing it.
“I wonder what your brother's face would be if he saw you like this.” Guesses Zeno, caressing with his thumb the bulge in my throat he's causing. Albert releases a cruel breathless laugh.
“Indeed. You're whining here like a kitten in heat by the hands of the man who just came from tearing your friends apart.” I don't need to see his face to know he has a cruel smirk on it. I can feel the venom dripping from his tongue. “Pathetic little thing.”
I hear one of the drawers open before the owner of uroboros takes something from inside and it gets closed again.
My eyes move to discover what it is, but with Zeno still fucking my mouth and his hand holding my throat, my movement equals to zero.
A sudden freezing sharp object traces lines on my skin. Slowly. Teasing. My knee, my thigh, and eventually my pelvis.
I still can't take a glance. I don't know what it is. But as I feel pain from the pressure as he pushes, my muscles instinctively tense.
“Careful there, my darling.” Says the one violating my throat. “It would be a shame if there were unnecessary cuts on your skin.”
I gasp and gulp however I can around Zeno as I realise that in the blonde's hand there's a knife. A pocket knife. And the sharp cold drawing invisible shapes is its blade. Tears fall again from my eyes as I fear for my life.
What the hell…
The blonde releases a breathless moan, as if trying to stop himself. The silver haired just pushes deeper, cutting my airflow for a few seconds.
When I'm still focusing on the weapon against me, Albert's words reclaim my attention.
“You know, pet, I'd hate for another fool like Redfield to think they have a chance. Let's make it very clear that you're owned, shall we?”
A moment later I feel an excruciating pain right at the top of my pelvis. He's cutting me. My body spasms from pain. Zeno shushes me and makes small shapes on my jaw to calm my trembling. A sweet gesture in a sea of pain.
The one with the orange eyes puts my hand next to the wound.
“Stay put, dear. The less you move the faster this will end.”
My mind can barely comprehend who's talking anymore.
He slashes again and again.
He takes a breath, admiring me or his “art”, I don't know.
Then he slashes again.
And again.
And again.
And again…
“A. W.” He reads. He then passes the knife to Zeno. The one with golden eyes begins once again to trace the knife from my tummy, stopping near my nipples and going up to my throat. He stops there. I release a wail. I cry and plea.
Please, no more… It hurts!
“Come on, darling. Fairness is important in a relationship. So be a good girl and shut up.” Says going back and forth from my clavicle to my jaw without drawing blood. He then takes my head with one hand so I can't move and begins to write too on my neck.
Again three slashes, and pause and four more. The same but different.
“Z. W.” He states as if to make it even more reality for me.
They both trace the shapes with their fingers making the wounds resent the sensation.
My salty pearls fall on the carpet under the desk.
“Now. Where were we?” The one taking my legs says.
Zeno throws the knife to the side and they look at each other and smirk.
Both of them coordinate their thrusts, and push at the same time. I feel my body squeeze and complain again. Their movements get erratic. I know what's coming. My expectations are reinforced by Albert's next actions. My clit rolls between his thumb and index aggressively. I gasp for air, feeling the new mark on my neck stretch.
“Be good, pet and cum, now.”
And after getting closer and closer fast, I do. And with my orgasm comes squirt, soaking the ex-captain dressing. And they ride my climax like it’s their job. Like they don't want to waste it. Until they have theirs. Once again inside. No protection. No choice. No discussion either. They get out of me, leaving cum trails coming out, and after cleaning themselves, they get dressed. Even when I can't move from the overstimulation.
"I expect you to behave better in the future. If you'd rather avoid more consequences of this nature, that is." The blonde trails every part of my sensitive pelvis as his words somehow help me get back to reality.
"I won't be your pet." I spat, still dizzy, weak. I feel shame, embarrassment, pain and the aftermath from my orgasms as well as theirs. But this won't end here. I'll make them regret this.
"Still so stubborn." Observes Zeno. "One would have thought you would be broken by now."
"You don't like being our pet?" Albert smirks, then turns to the box next to the desk. He moves to get whatever is in there.
Zeno follows him with his eyes, then looks at me. He moves his hand and removes the rest of his climax with his thumb before sticking it into my mouth. "Maybe we should give you a better role then. More according to your perseverance and mental strength."
That somehow sounds even worse.
From the side I hear the crazy blonde genius testing me.
“Let's play a game shall we?” He starts. I try to move scared but the albino keeps me in place. “What starts with V, has infinite potential and have been turning people mad as of late?”
V, infinite potential, and lately? That's…
“A… virus?”
Albert returns smirking with a syringe in hand. I struggle uselessly.
"Let's hope, for you, that you can take it like a good girl." The mad scientist says as he appears on my right and injects a black substance into my arm.
leon rescuing m!reader from victor gideon, R has been experimented on and is exhausted beyond comprehension he confessed to leon because he thinks he’s just hallucinating again
even through all the pain,
he was your guiding light
m!reader, cannon typical violence, mentions of being tested and drugged, heavy angst to comfort
When you were assigned the case involving the victims of Raccoon City Syndrome, you knew it was only a matter of time before it started affecting the people inside the DSO too.
You just hadn't expected it to happen so quickly.
The symptoms had progressed slower in both you and Sherry, but Leon...
Leon was different.
He brushed it off with tired jokes and complaints about getting older, but you saw through him. You noticed the marks spreading little by little beneath his clothes. Noticed how he covered more of himself every week. How he'd smile and say he was fine while quietly trying to keep everyone from worrying.
It only made you worry more.
Maybe what you did was reckless.
No — it was reckless.
But sitting around waiting for orders while your friends suffered felt impossible.
So you started digging on your own.
Victim files. Off-record reports. Personal contacts.
Anything.
You were searching for loopholes, for patterns, for something everyone else had missed.
And eventually, something surfaced.
The Spencer Foundation.
Its name kept appearing over and over.
After enough digging, you found an operating care center in Rhode Hills.
Without telling anyone, you left.
You thought you could handle it quietly.
Get in, get answers, come back with something useful.
Something that could help Sherry.
Something that could help Leon.
You let determination turn into haste.
And haste made you stupid.
The place practically screamed trap.
Everything felt wrong.
The spotless white halls. The smiling doctors. The rehearsed sympathy in their voices…
… but the moment they mentioned experimental treatments suppressing the virus symptoms —
You listened.
Victor Gideon, lead researcher and head physician, claimed he'd suffered himself before finding a way to fight back.
He promised he'd show you.
And like an idiot you followed.
Then everything went black.
You woke up restrained.
The truth unraveled slowly after that.
The facility had once belonged to Umbrella before its collapse. Gideon seemed almost proud of it.
He told you everything like some maniac giving a victory speech.
You fought back.
God, you fought back.
You tried getting messages out. Tried escaping. Tried hurting anyone who came near you — but none of it mattered.
You were outnumbered.
Drugged. Experimented on. Reduced to another subject in a room full of them.
You stopped knowing how long you'd been there.
The fluorescent lights never changed.
No windows. No time.
No day. No night.
Even when consciousness drifted in and out, the clock on the wall always read the same.
Maybe it was real. Maybe it wasn't.
You couldn't tell anymore.
You still had fight left in you.
At least for a while.
But eventually it wasn't anger keeping you alive.
It was the hallucinations.
Faces appeared through the haze. Agents. Friends. People you knew. People long gone.
Most disappeared as quickly as they came.
But Leon stayed.
Leon was always there.
When doctors injected you with things.
When they strapped you down, chained you up by your wrists in the operating room.
He'd stand nearby, watching with eyes heavy with helplessness.
Sometimes he spoke.
His voice always sounded distant like it was underwater.
Words blurred together like prayers through static.
Still...
it kept you going through it all.
Gunfire.
Screams.
You surfaced slowly.
Ah.
This dream again.
Your wrists ached dully as you hung from the restraints.
The hallucinations always followed the same order.
Groans outside. A few gunshots.
Silence.
Then—
The door burst open.
Leon stepped through with his gun raised.
Same as always.
But then something felt… wrong.
When he saw you, his expression immediately shattered.
Not just shock.
Fear.
Real fear.
"Jesus Christ..." His voice wasn't muffled.
You stared.
Leon crossed the room immediately.
"Hey." His hands moved quickly toward the restraints. "Hey, stay with me, alright? Look at me."
You blinked slowly.
That was new.
Usually he said something different. Usually the dream ended sooner.
"Can you hear me?"
You watched him search frantically around the room.
"Le...on..."
Your throat felt like sandpaper.
His shoulders stiffened instantly.
Then you saw it.
His hands were shaking. Leon Kennedy's hands were shaking.
"...I'm here," he said quietly.
Too quietly.
A gunshot rang out.
Suddenly the restraints released.
You hit the floor or... you should have.
Instead, strong arms caught you.
Leon dropped beside you immediately.
You barely felt him pulling needles from your skin.
Barely felt the bandages. Barely felt anything at all.
You smiled weakly.
"It's okay..." The words scraped out of your throat. "I could handle it..."
Leon looked like you'd stabbed him.
"No." His voice cracked slightly. "No, don't say that."
He pulled you closer.
"I should've found you sooner."
The words slipped out before he could stop them.
Then immediately:
"...Forget that."
Classic Leon.
Still trying to shove his feelings back down. Even now.
You lifted a trembling hand toward his face.
His hand covered yours immediately.
"I wanted... to save you..." Your eyes struggled to focus. "I messed up."
Leon swallowed hard.
"No."
Just one word.
Firm.
Certain.
"No, you don't get to blame yourself right now."
He lifted you into his arms and carried you out.
Leon moved fast.
You could feel it in the way his steps jarred your body against his chest, in the steady rise and fall of his breathing, in the distant sounds of gunfire and infected cries bleeding together around you.
Your hearing came and went in strange waves.
One moment there were voices.
The next, nothing.
You felt Leon shift you slightly in his arms as he pushed through another door.
Bright lights. Cleaner walls. A room.
Not the operating room. Different.
You frowned weakly.
That wasn't supposed to happen. The dream was changing.
Leon lowered you carefully onto a bed and immediately turned away, tearing through cabinets and drawers like a man possessed.
Metal clattered. Glass rattled.
He kept moving.
Too fast.
Too frantic.
You watched him through half-lidded eyes.
He was saying something.
Into a communicator maybe.
You couldn't understand any of it.
His words melted together into muffled static.
Maybe he was talking to Sherry.
Maybe he wasn't talking at all.
You weren't sure anymore.
Your body felt heavy.
Distant.
Like were sinking back into your dispair.
"...Leon."
The sound barely escaped you.
Yet somehow he heard it immediately.
He was beside you in an instant.
Kneeling.
Blue eyes fixed entirely on you.
His face looked exhausted.
You'd never seen him look so terrified before.
Not even in your dreams.
His hand found yours.
"Hey," he said quietly.
His thumb brushed weak circles against your skin.
"I'm here."
You smiled a little.
"I always dream about you."
Leon froze. You didn't notice.
"You've been keeping me..." Your eyes struggled to stay open. "...strong."
His grip tightened.
"You don't have to talk right now."
"But I want to." The words slurred together.
You fought to stay awake.
Fought to keep looking at him.
Because if this really was another hallucination—
you wanted it to last.
"I always wanted..." Your breathing hitched slightly. "...wanted to be closer to you."
Leon swallowed hard.
"Hey."
His voice was gentler now.
Dangerously gentle.
The kind of voice people used when they were trying not to break.
"Don't do this."
You blinked at him.
Don't do what?
"If I don't..." You struggled for air. "...wake up again..."
His jaw tightened.
"No."
"...you need to know."
"No."
"Leon—"
"No."
The word came out sharp this time.
For the first time since he'd found you, there was anger.
Not at you.
At the situation. At himself. At everything.
His forehead dropped against your hand.
You barely felt the warm drops against your skin.
For a second your hazy mind struggled to understand.
Leon didn't cry.
Leon never cried.
Not your Leon.
Not the Leon in your dreams.
"...I love you."
Everything went quiet.
Even Leon stopped moving.
You barely felt your own heartbeat anymore.
"I've loved you..." you whispered. "...for a long time."
Your vision blurred further.
"I was scared." Your voice trembled.
"Sherry always told me to just say something but..." A weak laugh escaped you. "...I guess I was a coward."
Leon looked at you then.
Really looked at you and whatever expression crossed his face hurt worse than anything Gideon had done.
Because he looked broken.
Completely shattered.
"If this is..." Your eyes slipped closed for a moment before forcing themselves back open. "...the last time I see you..."
You smiled weakly.
"You're everything to me."
Leon gripped your hand so tightly you almost felt it.
Almost.
Your vision dimmed around the edges.
Leon was talking again.
You couldn't understand him anymore.
His voice faded beneath the ringing in your ears.
You wanted to hear him. Wanted to know what he was saying.
But darkness rolled over you before you could.
And just like every other dream—
everything disappeared.
-
Time passed.
Or maybe it didn't.
You weren't sure.
When consciousness finally found you again, something immediately felt wrong.
Soft.
Your head rested against something soft.
Not chains. Not cold metal. Not hanging restraints.
A bed.
You frowned.
Slowly, carefully, your eyes opened.
Color.
The room had color.
Sunlight spilled through a nearby window.
Sunlight?
You stared at it.
You couldn't remember the last time you'd seen sunlight.
Your fingers twitched. Then your toes.
Then pain followed.
Dull aches.
Sharp stings.
The burning pull in your wrists.
You almost laughed.
Pain.
Actual pain.
You felt human again.
Something heavy rested against your chest.
Slowly, with more effort than it should've taken, you lowered your gaze.
And stopped.
Leon.
He sat slumped forward in a chair beside your bed, head resting against folded arms.
Asleep.
For the first time in what felt like forever he looked peaceful.
Healthier.
Alive.
Your chest tightened.
Maybe you'd died. Maybe this was heaven.
A small sound escaped you.
Barely a gasp.
But it was enough.
Movement by the doorway caught your eye.
You looked up slowly.
Sherry stood frozen hands over her mouth.
Beside her stood an unfamiliar blonde woman.
Both stared at you.
Sherry's eyes widened.
"Oh my God."
Leon shot upright instantly.
Years of training kicking in before consciousness even fully caught up.
His eyes scanned the room.
The corners. The door. The windows.
Searching for danger.
Then he looked at you.
And completely fell apart.
The change happened instantly.
No walls. No mask.
Nothing.
He crossed the distance before you could even process it.
His arms wrapped around you carefully — so carefully — like he was terrified you'd disappear if he held too tight.
Pain shot through your body.
Sharp and burning but you welcomed it.
Because you could feel it.
Because he was real.
"You’re okay." His voice broke against your shoulder.
Not even words for you.
Words for himself.
Proof.
Proof that you were here.
Proof he hadn't lost you.
You lifted your hand weakly.
The movement barely counted.
But your fingers brushed against his back.
And that was enough.
Leon shuddered.
Then completely came apart.
You felt him trembling.
Felt years of restraint and fear finally crack apart all at once.
Somewhere nearby, Sherry was calling for a doctor.
HIHIHI the fic u wrote as per my request was fantastic, I’m jumping with joy (sub olderLeon Kennedy) sooooo i have another idea that you can do whenever you’d prefer that’s nsfw!! Basically… Leon is a super intense and scary, arrogant, smug CEO or whatever, and everybody feels like they are walking on eggshells around him, BUT the plot twist is that we put him in his place when he’s alone, and we are very harsh verbally. Basically, (you can get creative if you so wish) we put his smug ass in his place by punishing him in his office for being a brat all week and challenging our authority. You can go as crazy as you want with the punishment, my only ideas are rough pegging or my most favorite, fingering him while he has a Chasity cage on. Again, your writing is amazing and I am SOSO happy with the latest older sub Leon Kennedy, u are an angel🥹🥹
Sub! Re9 CEO Leon x Top! Reader🪦
Summary: Your husband has been nothing but a nuisance all week. The last of your patience snaps and you’ve decided you had enough of his nonsense, showing him who’s the one really in control in your relationship.
CW: 18+, NSFW, MINORS DNI, PEGGING ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP, ANAL SEX, USE OF BLINDFOLDS + CHASITY CAGE, OVERSTIMULATION, SEMI PUBLIC SEX, BRAT TAMING + DEGRADATION KINK
A/N: ILYSM TOP READERS!! Yes i’m gonna write whatever the fuck i want since most leon fics are never what i’m looking for, so therefore my works don’t apply for the majority. They’re hardly inclusive with gender too so I do happily accept requests for trans, male or gender neutral folk, I love them so much >_<!!!
Once again, thank you nonnie, I must know who you are because deadass so few of us exist & we think so alike. I didn’t know what a chasity cage was until I looked it up, but this was so so fun to write, I apologize for how short it is😭🖤
Leon considered himself a fairly composed man, as it should be. His reputation at the company preceded his success, consistently making sure every department and his employees remained in order at all times. He could always pick up on the immediate hesitation upon the faces of new hires, including the subordinates that have been working there for years.
As a result, since majority of people were willing to bend over backwards in order to earn his favor, his ego only began to grow, fully aware anything could be accomplished with the simple snap of his fingers. After all, Leon could decide who should resign, he didn’t need anyone under his name who wouldn’t benefit him. He required efficiency, not lethargic workers without drive.
However, you on the other hand, were anything but fond of his recent behavior this past week. Even more importantly, you weren’t a fan of those who were far too full of themselves. You knew your husband was intentionally acting out to rile you up, and it was working, annoying you to your wits end. It couldn’t wait until the two of you got home, not this time.
It’s ironic how the tables turn suddenly, here he was lying, on his back against his office desk, the suit and tie both unbuttoned, exposing the bare chest, his once combed neat hair disheveled.
His suit pants and boxers were completely down to his ankles. The only thing visible thing was the glint of chasity cage around the entire length, the flushed tip leaking, dripping hot release onto his inner thighs, the sensation cool against the office air.
Leon was in for a real treat now, considering you were stuffing him full of your strap instead, pushed deep inside his rear, your other hand wrapped around his neck, cutting off most of the access to his airway.
Leon wasn’t sure how many rounds the two of you had gone at this point, his weeping cock aching, yet he was still half hard from your dominant performance. He’d already made a mess of cum across the surface, along with a sticky puddle against the carpet floor— like you were trying to drain him until his balls shriveled into raisins.
“You think you can get away with testing my limits huh— look at the greedy worthless cumslut you’ve become underneath me— not very professional now are you?” You grunted, removing the grip from his neck to hold his muscular thighs apart as they trembled.
He gasped, heaving hard with a flushed face, the silk black fabric around his eyes blinding him completely, as he arched backwards, you continued your brutal pace into his abused hole, rocking your hips forward.
“Please— no more— don’t fuck me dry— I can’t.” Leon whispered with a strained tone. He rocked into you, not that he was worried you wouldn’t make him cum again, he understood the play-acting. A part of him also didn’t care, he felt drunk off the pleasure alone, and incredulously high.
“You can still give me one more.” You bring your lips to his ear, your arm crushing him back into the desk . “I still think you’re forgetting who has the upper hand here.” You snarled.
Leon struggled to speak and nodded his head as best as he could. His lips beneath the blindfold glistened with previous drool coating the front of them, like a perfect gloss under the fluorescent lighting.
“Then I’m sure you know what that means, babe, don’t you?” You growled, your fingernails pressing down into his thighs, probably deep enough to bleed if you wanted. “It means I’ll fuck you however I want, as many times I want—if you think I can’t keep up with you.”
Leon writhed under your hold, completely spent, his tears had already soaked into the fabric over his eyes. Every grunt and moan he held back, was even more agonizing as the last. He felt the tip of his cock painfully pulse for yet again another release.
“Please— dear— I can’t come another time!” He croaked out, his voice hoarse from trying to stifle his moans and previous orgasms. You were also completely worn out, but you were pushing past his limits the way he did yours. Your legs and midsection were starting to ache, but you needed to teach him some manners first.
“Don’t tell me the stupid whore can't handle a little more— what happened to the big boss, not afraid your little subordinates might catch us?” You taunted heaving hard with each thrust, most likely about to cum again, before him.
“Fuck— I know honey— M’sorry—- M’sorry, won’t do it again, please.”
Leon whined as his cock twitches at the thought, begging for attention. He grunted— trying to maintain the last semblance of his forgotten pride and dignity from before. Leon couldn’t see you but he could picture your smile and hazy, mean expression, the one he loved when you topped him this way.
Leon was muttering incoherent curses underneath his breath from how every one of his senses practically burned from the overstimulation. Especially since the cage restricted further access from being able to stroke himself.
“Or was it finally taking my cock inside you for you to get your shit together, hm?” You cooed, using your thumb to gently caress the side of his face, wiping the dried tears, and a few missed ones above his light stubble.
With one final grind of your hips you finally settled, cumming again, completely out of breath, the office reeking of sweat and sex. Even if he cleaned up his long time subordinates would know— just like every other time in the past.
His bottom lip trembled just slightly as he came again from your cruel words, spilling over his abdomen, only this time it was a pathetic amount as you pulled out harshly.
“Now look at this mess, you got the whole fucking place stained—and yourself, like a dirty wench.” You panted, taking the blindfold off and discarding it aside, glaring into his teary brimmed blue eyes. He looked like an absolute mess, sweat brimming across his temple.
“Listen up, because I expect you to clean this filth up with your tongue, so get your slutty ass to work.” You snarled, grabbing a hold of his neck tightly before letting go. He gasped desperately with a fucked out expression, coughing, in an attempt to catch his breath against the office desk— he desperately hoped no one had overheard him.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
synopsis: Leon has been stressed taking care of people 24/7 at work. You, his girlfriend, want to pamper him, but know he’s too selfless to agree to it outright. So, you suggest to try pet play…..hoping it will ease him into submission.
includes: Leon Kennedy x fem!reader, RE2 Leon Kennedy, pet play, mommy kink, dacryphilia, handjob, blowjob, vaginal fingering, butt plug, come eating, slight hurt/comfort, smut, praise kink, slight dom/sub, sub!inexperienced!Leon Kennedy, puppyboy Leon Kennedy
words: 5.4k
a/n: I haven’t played any of the RE games, I’m just here for the fandom. So there’s a fat chance I mischaracterized him. I believe in sub RE2 Leon supremacy………and need to walk him like a dog.
AO3 Link
Your boyfriend, Leon Kennedy, had been through a rough few weeks at work. Although he couldn’t tell you much about his job at the RPD, you see the news reports against Umbrella. Like any first responder, he can never catch a break. Seeing how truly terrible people can be, watching them turn on their own kind just for a slice of power? That’s gotta weigh on him. Let alone the physical demand of it all. Leon doesn’t bring up work around you, but you can read his body language well enough to know that he’s been struggling to relax. So this week, you proposed a fun shenanigan.
“Are you….sure you want me in a…..costume?” Leon turned away from your laptop, giving you a timid, brows-raised look.
“I wouldn’t really say it’s a costume, just uh……more like some toys. Accessories, maybe?” Maybe it was selfish, using your own fantasy to try and indulge your inexperienced boyfriend. A little pet play never hurt two consenting individuals, right?
“I dunno…..it just seems you’re a little ‘all bark, no bite’.” You roll your eyes and shove his shoulder at his petty dad joke. Leon knew you were a dreamer, always offhandedly mentioning random fantasies. But this time, you really did have a plan.
“I really mean it this time! There’s a Petco five minutes from my work, I can stop by tomorrow and grab everything.” You set the laptop down and grab his hands.
Leon’s still unconvinced. “Uhhhh, since when did they have dog ears and tail butt plugs at Petco?” You both break into a fit of laughter, crashing into eachother.
“Ok, you got me there. So maybe I’ll have to make two stops, but that’s not the point! Will you be the bestest boyfriend ever and indulge me, my love?” It may be low-hanging fruit to sucker him into this, but you wouldn’t try it if it didn’t work. Besides, you know if you proposed a scenario to satisfy solely him, he would never agree. Leon always puts you first.
Your boyfriend lets out a big sigh, blush spreading across his face. Clearly giving it a proper thought. He wasn’t nearly as experienced as you when it came to sex.
“I just thought it made sense because you’re a very loyal……and obedient……excitable person.” You raise one of his hands to give his knuckles a quick kiss. “And it’s kinda hot imagining such a strong man submit to me.” You set his hand onto his thigh, letting your touch linger for a second.
A noticeable tent was forming in his pants at the thought, but he caught you staring.
“Ok, for you? I’ll do it.”
“THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU!!!” You whip him into a big hug, assuring him that you’ll walk him through it and give him plenty of room to opt out.
———————————
The next day, you came home, goodies in hand, to find Leon sitting on the couch in the living room. He had the tv on as he usually does, but was leaned forward onto bouncing legs. Clearly, he’s a little nervous.
You set the bags next to the couch, and plop down beside him to snuggle up and give him a kiss hello.
“~hi, handsome~” you walk your fingers up his bicep, giving a playful squeeze.
“Hi, babe. I see, uh….see you got the stuff.” Leon’s gaze fixated on the bags on the ground, leg still bouncing.
“I did! But again, we don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. I kept receipts and everything, and I won’t be mad if today is a no-go.” You sit up to look at him as he speaks to you.
“I want to, i just…you know I’m not as experienced as you. I just want it to be good for you.” Leon looks like a kicked puppy turning to meet your gaze. Poor guy. He really can’t ever do anything to benefit himself, can he?
“Of course I know that, baby. That’s why I wanted to explore this with you! Besides, it’s just meant to play around with today. If either of us don’t like it, we’ll stop, but I’m not expecting anything to be life-changing. Just experimenting with you is exciting enough.” And you meant every word of it. Leon’s whole body let out a collective sigh of relief, easing his bodyweight into you.
After he gave confirmation to start, you pulled a collar, leash, headband with dog ears, and a tailed butt plug out of the shopping bags. You both read through the sex toy packaging, making sure to disinfect it before use. Leon refused to let you dress him, fastening the collar/leash and headband on himself. You offered to warm his body up a bit for the tail, but he insisted on taking care of it himself. So, despite several offers, you let him take it to the bathroom.
Leon took about 5-10 minutes to insert the plug, blatantly struggling but refusing to ask you for help. This was your fantasy, and he didn’t want to feel like a burden if he couldn’t make it happen. Poor boy even pulled up some tutorials on his phone. You didn’t want to pressure him by knocking on the door to check-in, but got lost in watching tv while you waited regardless.
Until, there’s a soft click of the bathroom door. You jolt towards the remote to shut the tv off. Body flushing with excitement as each soft footstep moved closer to the living room.
He looked better than you imagined.
The dog ears perfectly matched his ashy blonde hair. Blush littered his face, his eyes darting anywhere but you. Although his head dipped down slightly, you could see the blue leather collar wrapped tightly around his neck. The dog tags clinking as he moved. If things went well, you’d get his name engraved into it for sure. The matching blue leash trailed down his chiseled torso, already catching beads of sweat. His thick arms outstretched in front of him, hands covering his genitals. Legs turned slightly inwards, he spun 90 degrees to show off the thick blonde tail coming out of his backside. Leon was nervous as fuck, and would have been shuffling between his feet……if every step didn’t press the plug against his sensitive sweet spot.
Fuck. You’ve definitely been staring speechless for too long.
“Oh…….my god.” Your jaw is slack, but mouth curving into a gentle smile. Leon finally makes eye contact, watching as your eyes darken with need.
“If it’s not good, I can change. Or am I wearing it wrong? I don’t really-“ he stammers, unsure of what you’re feeling.
“You look so fucking hot right now.” You stand from the couch, having to hold yourself back from pouncing on him. You didn’t expect him to come out completely nude, but you figured there wasn’t a way to wear clothes around the massive tail plug.
Leon turns back to face you head-on, eyes scrunching as the plug shifts inside him. You inch your finger, beckoning him to approach you.
He shuffles, barely lifting his feet off the floor.
Soooo obedient.
Leon stands directly in front of you, breath heavy, face flush, and hands still covering his cock. Not that you can see how hard he is, anyway. His height causing him to tower over you slightly, you have to look up to meet his eyes. You flash a smile.
“Hi, baby.” You swear you aren’t trying to look predatory.
“…..hi….” You can tell he’s nervous.
“How are you feeling, love?” You fold your hands behind your back, rocking on your toes. Obviously he needs direction, but you want to sit with his vulnerability for a second.
“I feel…..ok.” He tilts his head.
“Ok….is that a good ok?” Leon nods sheepishly, looking at the ground. You hum in approval. “Sweetheart, if you ever stop feeling ok, I need you to tell me. Just use our safe word and I’ll back off.” You bend down to meet his lowered gaze. “I won’t be upset, I promise.”
He gives a soft exhale. “Ok. I’m ok, really. Just a bit nervous.” Leon starts to shift his stance, wincing once he remembers the plug stuffed inside him.
“Let’s start slow. Can you sit for me?” You fold your arms over your chest. Leon looks back down at the floor. With his hands still occupied, he bends his knees to sit on his heels.
The way his eyes glimmer as he looks up at you sends blush scattering across your face. He shifts his hands around his crotch, presumably making more room for his hardening dick. As much as you’re loving the height difference, you don’t want to intimidate him, so you sit on the couch in front of him. Your bent knees now reach his eye level. Leon’s big blue eyes track your movements down.
“Gooooood. Hmmmm, let’s see.” You give him a moment to get comfortable, understanding his sensitivity from the plug stuffed inside him. Leon’s leg starts to bounce again, causing the tail to wag slightly behind him.
The leash….
You lean forward to grab the leash, pressing a deep kiss into his lips. He lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, tongue quickly swiping over your bottom lip and hungry for more. You pull away, barely an inch from his face to let him pant a bit. He’s so needy already.
Leaning back with the leash in hand, you overestimate it’s length and accidentally tug him forward. Secretly, you’re a bit disappointed that he didn’t remove his hands to catch his fall. You want to see all of him. But let’s not kick him while he’s down. Poor boy is still nervous.
“Now, pet….” You tested the waters with the nickname. Both sets of his ears perked up.
“Can you be a good boy for me and show me your puppy parts?” You looked down your nose at Leon, patient, but incredibly turned on.
He lowered his gaze again as he slowly brought his hands to his knees. A string of pre snapped from his fingertips to his shaft. Leon’s been leaking this whole time.
You tug at the leash, forcing him on all fours. But, still keeping him propped up to fully expose his entire, dewy body.
“Puppies are supposed to be on all fours, right?” Leon locks eyes with you, blushing harder. “Yes, ma’am.” The honorific went straight to your core.
Someone was getting a little confident, knowing how to chip at your composure.
And you can’t have that. Good thing you’re wearing a low-cut tank top today.
You lean down to touch Leon’s dog ears, pushing your cleavage into his face. His hot breath fans over your skin, hitching as you scratched behind his headband.
“What’s a-matter, pup? Does that spot feel good?” You lean further forward to scratch the nape of his neck, fully shoving his nose between your breasts. Running your nails up his nape and across his scalp a few times, Leon finally gets restless and nibbles on your breast.
You abruptly lean up with a gasp. “Leooonnnnn, good puppies don’t bite.” You condescendingly tease him, knowing full well you baited him into that. While he attempts to stutter out a response, you drag your eyes over his figure, spotting his now red-flushed cock.
If Leon is too occupied with feeling flustered, he surely can’t be stressed about work right now.
Score.
“I’m going to need you to sit at the corner of the couch until you learn how to behave.” Leon stands up to step on the couch. You fully extend your arm to the left to yank him back off.
“Ah, ah, ah! Pups aren’t allowed on the furniture.” You tut at him, pointing to a spot on the ground by the arm rest. Leon lets out a deflated sigh, propping himself back on his heels.
He’s so desperate and scrumptious. You want to pounce him. Bad. But who can’t resist edging him a little? You decide to milk his timeout. Grabbing the tv remote, you flick the tv back on. His leash neglected and tied around the armrest, your right hand is free to fiddle with his hair. There’s only so much sensual touch you can give to his scalp. And you have a spare hand for yourself……
You lower the waistband of your shorts below your hips, aimlessly circling your clit. There was more than enough slick to finger yourself while you wait.
Leon was worried he already messed up once, and really locked in on watching the tv to wait until further instructions.
Until he heard a breathy moan from you.
He snapped his head in your direction, almost knocking off his headband in the process. You were knuckle deep in your hole, thumb delicately pressed against your clit. Leon blinked for a moment, realizing that you were too focused on the screen to notice him watching. He slowly crawled your way, desperately wanting a taste of you, but was too ambitious.
“Leoooon, stayyyyyyy. I promise, I’ll give you a treat if you just wait a little bit longer.” You roll your head to look at him, eyes hooded as the squelches from your cunt fill the room. Leon’s lips scrunch, teeth shifting in anger as he returns to his timeout spot. His eyes stayed glued to you, though, despite yours returning to the tv.
Of course you have to seize the moment, moaning a little louder with each pump of your fingers. Adding a little squirm of your hips just so he can imagine what it feels like to make you writhe with pleasure.
Out of the corner of your eye, Leon rocks slightly on his heels. Tail brushing against the bottom of the couch, his eyes wrench shut in pleasure. You pretend not to notice, but revel in seeing the puddle of pre form under him as he slowly bounces on the butt plug.
Leon’s sure he will draw blood from the way he bites his lip to muffle the moans.
You make sure to stop fingering yourself before reaching your orgasm. Coming without him? You’re not a monster. Rolling your head to look at Leon, he quickly snaps his gaze to the tv to pretend he was staying still. You’ll give him a pass.
“Leon, baby….” You grab back the leash and give it a pull. “Be a good pup and join me up here.” His dick throbs. “I’ll let you on the furniture, just this once.” He jumps up onto the couch, perched on all fours with big pleading eyes. The couch is definitely going to need to be spot-cleaned by the way he’s leaking pre everywhere.
“Goooood boy. Sit against the armrest and I’ll give you your treat. You lean forward to unlatch the leash, a silent agreement between you both that he’ll obey you.
Leon’s breath picks up as you snake your arms around his legs, spreading them apart for easy access. You lay your body down and start nudging the plug deeper as you speak.
“You’re such a good boy, listening to all my directions. I trained you well, pup.” Nudge, nudge, nudging as you kiss up his thighs.
“You’ve even been nice and quiet so far.” You shift to kiss up his other thigh. Still, pressing the plug deeper inside him.
“Not even a whine or whimper from you, pup. It would be a shame if you spoke…” dropping a not-so-subtle hint, you licked a wet stripe up the underside of his shaft. On cue, a whimper fell out of Leon’s mouth. He smacked a hand over his lips, embarrassed at the noise. You chuckle into an open mouthed kiss on his tip, vibrating it ever so slightly. No sounds this time, but his breath is so shaky that you can hear it.
Enough waiting. You deepthroat him to the hilt. Leon’s hands fly to either side of your head as you time the plug pumps with your mouth bobbing. He attempts to meet you for a second thrust, stuttering until you feel hot liquid shoot down your throat.
After less than five seconds of head, and he already came?
God, he’s so needy.
It’s so fucking hot.
You slowly drag your mouth up off his shaft, giving a wet kiss to the tip after swallowing his salty juices. Understandably, you’re stunned. Stunned, speechless, and breathless, you rest your head on his inner thigh, spacing out while you collect your thoughts.
A beat passes before you tilt up to take in the sight of your hopefully fucked out boyfriend.
Except that wasn’t the case.
Leon’s face is flushed red, his eyes starting to crinkle at the seams. If the ears were real, they’d droop down into his ashy blonde locks. Poor boy just felt so embarrassed.
You brushed your hand up his neck, settling on his chin to lift his gaze. A gaze that he refuses to meet. And not because of the tears clouding his vision.
You give him a second to breathe as anxiety creeps in convincing you that you’ve pushed him too far. He sniffles a bit as you rub circles into the corner of his mouth, chest stuttering and pulling uneven breaths.
Leon swats your hand away, shifting to the floor out of sight and whipping his knees into his chest to hide his face.
Fuck. What have you done?
“Heyyyy, hey, hey, hey, what’s wrong, baby?” You coo, scooting off the couch to meet him on the floor. It seems he didn’t want to be touched at the moment, and you had to stop yourself from instinctively grabbing his shoulder. Instantly, you’re picking at your nails trying to jump into problem-solving mode.
“Talk to me, baby, what’s wrong?”
“I-I-I-I-it…..*sniff*…..um…..*sniff, sniff*…. I-I-I u-uh-hum…..” Leon’s forcing words through stutters, frantically wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. His chest falls back into a steady rhythm. It breaks your heart to hear each of his inhales quiver. Blush still heavy, he tilts his head up to look in your direction…….his nose instantly scrunches and tears fall back down his face.
“Awww, come here, baby.” Almost as if reading each other’s minds, you dive into a hug together. Your nails running up the nape of his neck to play with Leon’s hair the way you know soothes him. “Shhhhhh, it’s ok, you’re ok. I’ve got you.” Trying your best not to choke up yourself, your mind is still desperately searching through the last hour for any possible mishaps. You steady your breath, doing so out loud to give him something to match his own breathing to.
You both established a safe word. You yourself made sure to do all check ins. Not that it would make it better, but with a man of his strength and police training? If something went wrong, he has more than enough strength to push you away. But he didn’t. It should never come to that. But did it come to that? Could you have gotten too wrapped up in toying with him that you missed a cue??? Right now he needed to let his feelings out, but you couldn’t really help him if you didn’t know what was wrong.
You just kept holding him close, rubbing along his back and whispering reassurance.
“You’re safe, baby. I’m not mad at you, i could never be mad with you. I just want to make sure you’re ok. I’ll take care of you, whatever it is.”
Leon’s breathing is still heavy, tears falling faster against your arms.
Ohhhhh. He’s not hurt.
“I’m here for you, baby. Whatever you need. I’ll take care of you, you can relax with me. You don’t have to do anything, just breathe with me.”
Tilting down to carefully catch his tears with your thumbs, Leon relaxes into your hold and stretches his legs out beside you.
Oh.
Oh.
Leon was still hard. Not just erect, but his tip angry red and his inner thighs were glistening with new slick.
You reach down to massage his leg, trying to connect the dots……but his behavior and his body are telling you two different things. Was he just ashamed for coming so fast? It’s not abnormal for him to still be hard after five seconds of head. Or, was it not satisfying enough for him?
“Baby, is this what was wrong?” You pat his inner thigh as Leon buries his face into your shoulder. Sniffling, he manages to mutter out a “mmhmm”.
Poor thing. He’s still embarrassed.
“Leon, baby, do you want me to take care of it for you? You know I really don’t mind…” shedding a soft smile, you finally manage to tilt his gaze towards yours. He huffs. The tears have stopped, his face still flushed and eyes puffy. Cute.
“I-…..I just……” he takes a deep breath, starting to fiddle with your hair as he speaks.
“I’m j-j-just not u-u-used t-t-to it is-s-s a-all.” You give a soft nod, silently relieved that you didn’t hurt him. “S-s-some-ome-one c-caring f-for me l-like t-t-t-this.”
Oh.
Of course.
A police officer dealing with the literal end of the world. Your boyfriend. Who spends every hour of every day saving people. Rescuing them. Risking his own life for the better of others. Constantly worried someone will die on his watch. Constantly on the lookout for himself, his colleagues, AND civilians. Not that he had low self esteem, but when did he ever have time for himself?
When did he have a person to take care of him?
“I’m so sorry, Leon. I’m so sorry.” You feel heat sting your eyes, tears streaming to cool your flushed face. Wrapping your arms tighter around the man, holding him like he’d disappear into thin air, you pull him back up onto the couch with you. Figuring that cushions would be more comfortable than the cold hardwood floor. And that he’d prefer to lay on your lap, fully being held.
“Shhh, I have you, baby. I’ll never let go. Let me take care of you.” You whisper, stifling your own sobs to delicately brush his hair out of his face.
You both sit for a moment, your feet resting on the floor with Leon sitting sideways on your lap. His head rested heavy against your shoulder. Leon’s fingers still delicately intertwined with your hair. Time passes, easing your grip on one another, and stilling your breathing. Your eyes closed and head tilted back against the top of the couch, you decide to break the silence.
“You know…….you know I want to take care of you, right?” Leon kisses your shoulder before tilting up to look at you. “I mean, for god’s sake…..” a giggle forces its way out of your chest. “I’m the one who suggested getting kinky. If anything, you’re just having a normal response to me literally slobbering all over your dick.” Leon busts out into laughter. God, that felt good to hear. He presses kisses onto your shoulder, trailing across your collarbone. Failing to muffle his laughs with each peck.
“I mean, seriously, you think you’re the freak?? I literally went shopping at Petco……for my boyfriend. Does that not feel insane to you??” Leon’s his lips begin to vibrate against your chest as his laugh deepens. He gives an open mouth kiss right under your jaw before quipping back.
“No, it doesn’t. Cause I was the one who was into it……” he giggles, too embarrassed to look you in the eyes again.
Even after all the crying, this motherfucker is still. Hard. You’re sure your whole body beats red at the sight of your boyfriend curled up yet turned on in your lap.
Leon picks up his pace with the open mouth kisses, tongue beginning to lave at the sensitive spots along your neck. His hand tracing up your side, hugging you tighter…..but introducing an air of sensuality.
“Baby…..” you coo, bringing a hand down to his hip. His cock jumps at the gesture. Leon runs his tongue along your collarbone, punctuating the line with a kiss.
“Yeeeeees, ma’am?” He gives you a snarky look, knowing that nickname is going to turn you feral. There’s the man you know and love.
You gently massage circles into his hip, slowly inching down towards his v-line. He takes a sharp inhale.
His once tear-filled eyes now glimmer at you, blue irises starkly contrasting the pink blush on his cheeks.
Leon’s chest begins slow its rise and fall, taking long, deep drawls of air. His eyes flutter shut as you reach his inner thigh, barely brushing his balls.
“Daaaaaarling…..pup?” You purr, tapping his chin with your alternate hand. His body is on fire, overwhelmingly so. But you need his eyes open for what you’re about to do. As if you haven’t already pushed the limits enough today.
Leon’s eyes darkened, looking at you like you hung the stars, watching you grasp the strap of your tank top. Gently, you drag the strap off your shoulder to reveal your braless chest underneath. Which, he had to have deduced by now, considering your perky nipples were nearly ripping holes through your shirt.
His jaw dropped. You felt a small spurt of pre dribble down his shaft and splash onto your hand. Leon speechless, you can’t help but break him.
“Do you want mommy to take care of you?”
You can’t even blink before Leon dives into your chest, peppering kisses everywhere he could reach. He’s moving FAST, blonde hair tickling your skin as he moves. You use your spare hand to cradle the back of his head.
“Thaaaaat’s it, there’s my good boy. Such a good pup for mommy.”
He fucking whimpers.
With each kiss, he lets out a high-pitched whine, akin to a dog begging for treats. He’s falling into the puppyboy role a little too well…..
Leon latches onto your pert nipple, beckoning the peak with his tongue while popping his mouth off it. You both let out twin moans at the act, warm energy shooting to your core, and his muscles instantly easing into you.
You reward him by gently grabbing his balls, thumbing them to feel his tenderness. His whines vibrate heavenly against your nipple. This man was going to be the death of you.
And it’s your fault, too.
Oh well.
Leon rests his head against your shoulder again, lulling himself into suckling your breast. Gently pulling his lips against your sensitive flesh, he pinches your nipple between his teeth before soothing it with his warm, wet tongue.
Running your fingers through his hair with one hand, you finally wrap your other around his weeping shaft. He lets out another whine. “Thank you, thank you. ~Nnnugh~ Thank you, mommy, I promise I’ll be good.”
Oh he is really going to be the death of you.
You’re fucked.
You press a thumb on the underside of his shaft, running along a thick vein that leads you to his tip. Although he’s already soaking with pre, you circle the head of his cock in your palm. His suckling stutters as you hit the slit on his tip. You curl your fingers around the underside, rubbing your thumb along his frenulum.
“~Nnnugh~ Mmmmm…” Leon unlatches, instantly overwhelmed by the pleasure. His chest starts shuttering against yours, unable to breathe as he begins bucking his hips into your hand.
“Ah, ah, ah. Puppy….what did I just tell you?” You press his hips flesh against the top of your thighs, keeping him in place. He lets out a thick sob. It was nice to see him shed tears when he wasn’t upset.
“Mommy wants to take care of you, baby. Can you stay still for me and let me do the work?” You tease him, earning a soft nod in response before he dives back into your breast. Your fingers return to the underside of his tip. “You’re such a needy little pup, but I don’t want you to do absolutely anything.” Your hand slowly sinks, then rises up his shaft. Leon throws his head back, a guttural moan ripping from his chest.
“I just need you to feeeeeeel for me. Do you think you can do that? Good pups let their mommies make them feel good.” You pump his swollen cock faster.
“Mmmm ~ughhhh~…….mmm-h-h-h-mmm.” Leon mumbles into your chest, nodding while suckling. He’d rather die than be separated from your breast again.
“Goooood pup. That’s my good boy.” His thighs are trembling. Borderline vibrating alongside you. The next pump, you swipe your thumb across his slit before pumping down his shaft again.
“Y-y-you mean it?” You’re shocked Leon can pronounce have a sentence through his trembling. “I-i-I’m y-y-your go-o-o-od boy?” Another tear falls down his cheek.
Your stomach drops.
You press an open mouthed kiss over his tear stains, continuing the fast pace on his dick. “Every word of it, baby.” He sobs under your praise.
“Mmmmmmoooooommmm-m-m-m….” Leon’s whimpers muffle into your chest, his tongue stuttering while swiping across your nipple. You can’t help but giggle.
“Ma-ma……..mom-m-m-mmy??” His shaky breath chills your nipple, your hand practically soaked with his pre now.
“Yes, my sweet puppy?”
Pump, swipe, pump, swipe.
His balls swell so big that you can’t help but knock into them with your fist. Leon is barely able to get his words out, so you know he’s close.
You force him to speak anyways.
“Can I come, m-m-m-mommy?” Leon, slack jawed and lazily lapping at your nipple, locks eye contact as hot tears stream down his face.
“Good pups use their manners….” You smirk down at him, slowing the motion of your hand.
“PLEASE. Please, mommy, please let me come. I’ve been so good for you, please mommy.” He throws his head into your chest, fully sobbing as you quicken the pumping on his cock.
Leon’s moans echoing off the walls of your apartment, he starts to lose his breath with each nudge of his balls. Only able to let out steady whines, the best he can do is attempt to warn you.
“M-mom-m-m………c-c-cum-cum-cu-….” His hips thrust into your hand, hot ropes of cum seeping onto your arm. You rub your thumb along his shaft to milk out his orgasm, savoring the sobs he lets out with each swipe.
“Theeeeere’s my good pup, there we are. Let it all out for mommy. Suuuuuch a good boy.” You shush him and give him gentle kisses as he eases off his high. Once it settles, he lets out a soft chuckle in disbelief. He leans up to give you a quick kiss on your lips, his mouth raw from sucking on your boob.
Leon takes a few deep breaths as you lick his cum off your arm, swiping up the drops on his legs to consume every bit. Although doing it for your own pleasure, you wish your boyfriend caught a glimpse of you savoring his juices. He was too fucked out, his pretty blue eyes already fluttered shut.
Breath still deep and slow, he still can’t stifle his own selflessness. “Thank you, baby. I…….~phew~…….I promise I’ll……I’ll repay you.” You scoff and give him another kiss on his forehead, using your now clean hands to brush through his hair.
“Leon….what did I say earlier? I don’t need you to repay me. I want to pamper you. You deserve it.” Leon gives a soft, sleepy smirk, nuzzling his body towards you to cuddle. You reposition yourself to lay alongside him on the couch, but he quickly rolls to lay on top of you. He could get used to this.
“I just feel special enough that you’re so vulnerable with me. That, and letting you relax is all the enjoyment I need.” You reach over the end of the couch to pull a blanket over you both. Just by the shallowness of his breathing, you can tell he’s going to pass out soon.
“Thank YOU. For letting me treat you, Leon.” You press a kiss to his nose, to which he barely musters a smile.
MC who goes about the Devildom as a human, but reverts back into a little sheep when their body perceives stress.
It's very inconvenient when you lose your DDD and are worried sick trying to find it, but your hands turn into hooves and you shrink into a tiny bovid creature. When you catch a cold, it can be a struggle to even crawl into bed. Watching really scary movies, getting chased by massive beasts, and using far too much magic at once have all triggered it.
Your professor at RAD once began collecting homework and you realized you forgot to do it. Mammon laughed so hard when you transformed that you both got extra homework that night.
You accompanied Barbatos on some errands despite feeling under the weather. "Are you alright? Would you like to rest?" he asked in genuine concern in the middle of a grocery store.
"I'm fine," you answered, mere seconds before your body betrayed you and you bleated in shame.
You escaped a long, excruciatingly tedious lecture from Lucifer by turning into a sheep as he glowered at you. The callous way he glared sent shivers down your spine and your body reacted accordingly. Lucifer determined your fear was punishment enough and let you off easy. Satan and Belphegor were not so lucky.
Beelzebub ate the snack you were looking forward to eating and you got so upset that you turned into a sheep until he found a store that was open in the middle of the night and bought a replacement.
You almost missed your final exams of the semester because you forewent proper food and sleep for a week in favor of studying as much as possible. You were in a perpetual state of sheep. Diavolo nearly banned you from the campus until you were calm enough to turn back.
You and Leviathan were about to defeat the hidden boss of Dark Spirits 3, known for its legendary difficulty that only 0.5% of players can beat. It happened while you were trying to avoid the boss's last attack.
Asmodeus gave you a hug that was so tight you poofed right into a sheep. He proceeded to hug you harder (all while exclaiming, "You're just soooo cute!") and had to be pried off by his brothers.
One time you sneezed. It made you turn into a sheep.
"Sounds delicious" || Leon S. Kennedy x Fem!Reader x Jill Valentine ||
Summary: You are the sister of Ethan Winters. The Redfields has invited you and him to their house. You meet two very Delicious people there who can't keep their eyes off of you and now they want their hands on you.
Warning: SMUTTT, p in v, anal, uses of strap, uses of sex toys, threesome, fingering, oral (fem receiving), anal fingering, masturbation, dom!jill, dom!Leon, sub!reader, sub!jill, dom!reader, cursing, fluffff, slow burn not too much , Reader is bit bossy submissive when she needs to be, oh and age gap (all legal). Not proofread so just roll with it.
It's been a while since you have visited the Redfield's house. Last time you visited was when Claire wanted to get something from her house and you both had to stop by. You and Claire both work at TerraSave. Both got along pretty well. Especially when both's brothers are best buddies.
It's kinda surprising that you never met any other friends of the Redfield siblings. But to be fair you're too busy with your study and work. You barely get time for yourself. It's exhausting sometimes but you love what you do so you got not much to complain.
It was a bright sunny day. Hot as well. You were talking to one of your co-workers about some investigation that you both were working on when you hear someone calling you. You turn to see Claire with a bright smile on her face. You excuse yourself and go to Claire.
"Hey! How's the investigation going?" Claire asks you and you sigh.
"Well stressful as always." You answer. Claire hands you your coffee.
"You always remember my order? Dang girl you got some sharp memory for someone your age. "
You say and chuckle. Claire pokes your side with her elbow. A silent warning if you don't shut up. You quickly hush yourself and try not to laugh.
"C'mon. I'm not that old." She pouts making you chuckle.
"Okay okay fine, young lady. I was just teasing. I will stop now."
You say and give her a smile. A smile that only contains trouble. Your coffee order isn't much. Changes depending on moods. Claire seems to always remember them tho. Reminds you of how Ethan always remembers things for Chris and will remind Chris about his reports sometimes because Chris is not getting any younger and he forgets. Normal stuff.
"Hey did Ethan told you about this evening?" Claire asks.
"No actually. What about it?" You look and Claire and she smiles.
"Well Chris and I thought that inviting friends over and having a good time in our house sounds very normal thing to do. Especially after Chris has returned from his recent brutal mission and Ethan's divorce."
Normal. Yeah Normal is pretty rare. Sounds nice.
"Yeah. You know it took everything in him to actually divorce her. Rosemary's Custody was another. " you say and look at Claire. "It's been hard. Rosemary is doing fine. The custody was harsh but we got Rose. Feels like everything is worth it after seeing that kid's face." You say and take a sip of the sugery drink.
"Yeah. Chris has also been worried about Ethan. So spending time with friends sounded the right thing to do. Maybe it will cheer him up a bit. " Claire says leaning by your side.
"Thanks." You look and Claire and smile. A tired smile that says more then thanks. That expresses so much emotion.
"You also need to rest." She says looking at your face.
"Well I'm alright.-" Claire cuts you off.
"You're eyes are telling me a different story. " she says as you sigh.
"Yeah yeah. " you take another sip of your coffee.
"You're coming,right?" Claire asks.
"Of course." You say as you both fell into a comfortable and understanding silence.
"Rosemary, don't run!" Ethan yells at rose while she runs throughs Chris who was waiting at the door step.
"Park the car and come as soon as you can." Ethan tells you and pats your head.
"Yeah okay." You say.
"Don't you dare to scratch the car, Winters." He yells while going inside the house.
"Don't worry. I surely will." You yell back chuckling.
You park the car and get out. You make your way to the door as Claire greets you.
"Heyyy! Come in. And-" You cut her off.
"No shoes!" You say as Claire chuckles.
"I thought you wouldn't remember. " Claire says.
"Well I won't forget these small and very important rules." You say in a sarcastic tone while you take your shoes off.
"Yeah now get in." Claire says. You chuckle and get in.
"Hey!" Chris greets you with a side hug as he carries Rosemary.
"Hi! How's life going?" You ask.
"As always, rough. What about you? It's been a long while since I actually met you." Chris says as he looks at you with a smile.
"Same as yours. But can't complain much when I also enjoy the work." You say as Chris chuckles.
"Well let me introduce you to my friends." Chris takes your hand while Ethan comes in and takes your other hand.
"Welcome to the annoying circle." Ethan says making you chuckle.
"More annoying than you Ethan? Impossible." You say as Ethan glares at you.
"Oh look who finally decided to let us meet his little sister."
A guy with tan skin, curly hair and charming (and hot and cool and sexy- okay let's stop that train.) Speaks up.
"That is Carlos." Chris introduced as Carlos comes forward and offers his hand for a hand shake that you gladly accept.
"I'm Carlos Oliveira. Been on Chris's team for quite a while now." Carlos says.
"Myself Y/N Winters. I work alongside Claire in Terrasave." You introduce yourself and offer a warm smile that he also returns.
"So what about we both go and help Claire in the kitchen and you introduce her to everyone else?" Ethan says looking at Carlos.
"My pleasure." Carlos says making you smile.
"Okay then." Chris and Ethan leaves you with Carlos.
You got along with everyone else pretty well. Carlos introduced everyone and everyone is pretty chill.
"Jill and Leon will arrive soon. Both are kinda workaholic." Rebbeca says. You smile.
"It's alright." You say.
"So you said you work with Claire plus you manage your studies? That's actually sounds stressful." Carlos asks as you smile.
"Not that stressful... But yeah it gets me sometimes." You say.
You talk with them for a while when you hear the ring bell.
"I will get it!" You say as you get up from the round shaped couch and go to the door. You open the door to see a women with short hair. Blue tired eyes staring into yours. You give her a warm smile and move aside to give her space to move in.
"Hi! I'm Y/N Winters." You introduce yourself after she gets in.
"Jill Valentine." She introduced herself. She sounds tired. She then forward her hand. You shake her hand with a smile.
You both stay like this for a minute or two when Chris calls in.
"Hey Jill! Come take a seat. Don't stand there." Chris says.
"Yeah coming." Jill says. She then looks at you. "You coming?" She asks.
"Of course I am." You say with a chuckle as you both get in. You seat where you were seated before as Jill takes the seat across from you.
"Well Jill this is y/n. My sister." Ethan says.
"Yeah the one Rosemary doesn't seem to stop talking about?" Jill says making rose pout.
"Well come here baby." You say to rose and she clambs into your lap. "Aunty doesn't give you enough time now huh? Missed me a lot it seems." You say as rose nods and put her head into your chest. Cute attempt at Hiding.
It is true. You're not home as much as Ethan. Ethan works from home to take care of rose while your work doesn't let you work from home much. By the time you come home. Either rose is really tired or she's just asleep. You sometimes feel really guilty for letting Ethan do all the work. He always told you it was alright but you never just felt like it was. Especially in the current situation Ethan is in.
You both are really alike. You have a big age gap with him sure but it never was a problem. It was the total opposite. You both always annoyed each other. Typical siblings. You never felt the age gap was even there. Not till you met his friend Chris. And now it's much more obvious. Everyone here is much older than you. But really friendly and chill. You kinda like it.
"Mhm." Rose hugs you and you hug her back.
After a while rosemary falls asleep in your arms. Claire takes her to her room and lays her in her bed. She comes back after setting everything up.
"Well someone's missing" Jill says. Who's now sitting right next to you.
"Leon's on his way." Claire says.
Right after she says that the door bell rings.
"Okay I'm gonna get it." Ethan stands and walks to the door.
"Started without me I see." A dark blonde man with blue eyes enters and looks at Chris like he was the one to bring out cold beer and set it on the table.
"Don't. It's not me. It was y/n that brought them out!" Chris points at you. The man looks at your direction and stops. He stares at you for a while then Ethan clears his throat to get the man's attention.
"That is y/n. My sister." Ethan says while glaring at the man.
You stand up and introduce yourself.
"Hi! I'm Y/N Winters." You offer your hand which the man accepts.
"I'm Leon Kennedy. DSO. And their friend." Leon says looking at you still.
"Okay then let's seat?" You say as Leon then sits next to Chris.
The evening goes pretty well. You got along with everyone and you were really happy. You also noticed how Leon and Jill wouldn't stop starting at you but you didn't give it much thought. After all the concept of two really attractive person staring at you like they might devour you right there and then if they could didn't sound very believable.... At least to you.
You loved the attention. Fuck wanted them both at same time. Is it even a good thing? Wanting two people that are so much older then you? What will the two think of you if they got to know what you were thinking when Jill's hands land on your thighs and you imagined it going up and landing on your wet cunt. What will they think of you if they got to know that you were thinking about Leon holding you still with his hand while Jill feasted on your pussy like it was her last meal? God you push those thoughts away for now.
You and Ethan bid your goodbyes, take Rosemary and go home. You couldn't stop thinking about Jill and Leon the whole ride.
"Everything okay?" Ethan asks from the back seat.
"Everything alright old man. Don't worry." You say.
"Hey if anything is bothering you, you know you can share. I won't mind. " Ethan says.
"I know, Ethan. I'm just thinking about work." You lie. Ethan isn't very convinced but he also won't push you. He knows you will tell him later.
Jill bids her byes to Redfield as she walks to her car.
"Hey!" Claire calls out.
"Yeah?" Jill looks behind her to see Claire running to her.
"It's her number. And if you have time, come at 5 pm sharp tomorrow where I work. She will be there." Claire hands her a paper and winks. Jill chuckles.
"Umm but wouldn't she mind it? You giving me her number plus I'm way older than her-" Jill gets cut off by Claire.
"C'mon we all saw how you and Leon were looking at her. Give it a try. See who she picks." Claire says. Jill sighs.
"Well we will see." Jill takes the paper and leaves for her home.
Once she reaches her home she opens her door and enters her cold house. She sighs as she closes the door and locks it. She checks every lock in the house before taking off her clothes and putting them on the machine. She starts it and goes to her room. She hops on the shower and starts the water.
She closes her eyes. Thinking about you.
When she first saw you she was mesmerized. You looked so cute. That smile felt so warm. She imagined how good it would feel if she came to her home and was greeted by your warm smile that offered nothing but peace.
When she sat next to you, she could smell you sweet vanilla perfume. Sounds creepy but the scent was overwhelmingly calming. It just...she had good intention okay. She haven't felt so human in years. Your laugh, your smile, the positivity you carried, your plum lips. She imagined how good they would feel like on her lips... On her neck or her thigh or on her pussy.
She bit her lips as her hand traveled down between her thighs. She sighs as her fingers comes in contact with her wet, almost dripping pussy. God how long has it been since she was this wet for someone?
Her finger tease her clit in slow teasing circles. She moans. She imagines your fingers instead of hers.
"Feel good?"
Imagining you talking made her moan loudly.
"Oh fuck yeah" Jill moans when her fingers enter her dripping hole. She rides her own finger while thinking it was you behind her back, fingering her while whispering in her ear. She takes one of her boobs in her other hand and starts teasing her nipples.
"Oh God" she moans as she feels her orgasm approaching.
"Gonna cum for me? Gonna show me how good I make you feel?"
"Oh God yes." Her moan was so high pitched that she herself was a bit surprised. She then finally cummed.
How long did it take her? God she felt like a horny teenager.
She opened her eyes and sighs while pulling out her cummed drained fingers. She realizes how tense she was. She shook her head and washes off all the dirt and her own cum. She comes out of her shower booth and looks in the mirror. She is red. Her shoulder, ears, cheeks, nose are red. The water wasn't even hot. Was it just the hot day or you? She takes a towel and makes her way out.
She wears her clothes and goes to the laundry. After it was done she goes to her room and flops onto her bed. She starts thinking about what Claire said. Leon was also looking at you? The way she did?
Leon was a good man she would admit. But giving you up? Nah that's far from good. But competing with Leon also made her feel bad. She didn't want to compete but also didn't wanna lose her chance with you. She takes the paper with your number in her hand and stares at it. She sighs as she starts thinking about possibilities.
Leon was a moaning mess. It was the second time he has cummed and oh God he felt so good.
When he entered the Redfield's house and saw you. He just take his eyes off of you. You were so comforting in a way. When you shook hand and he felt your soft hands. God forgive him for all the thoughts run on his mind. The warmth you offered was so pleasing. He wanted to come home to this everyday instead of a lonely cold empty home.
After coming back Chris texted him your number and told him and you will be cool with it. He couldn't believe he had your number now.
But he was also so much older than you. How could he think about those soft hand wrapping around his hard dick. Those plum lips kissing his Dick's tip then dropping to take his cock in your mouth. It's so bad to think about how your breast would feel on his hands. How soft with they be. How he could suck on them for hours if wants. It was also really bad to think about how you would taste. How your pussy would react to his mouth on them. How sweet would you taste. And oh what kinds of sounds will you make when Cumming...
He bit his free hands palm as he cummed for the third time. How the hell was it possible for a man his age to get hard after the first time? Not to mention he cummed for the third time now! He felt like a teenager all over again. Just the thought of you was enough to make him cum three times. What will happen if he actually gets you?
His thoughts were inturupted by a loud rude buzz from his phone. He picks it up.
Jill.
Wait why's she calling so late at night? Oh wait... Chris also mentioned how he noticed both him and Jill looking at you. Was Jill calling to talk about it?
He picks his phone up with his clean hand and answers the call.
"Umm hello?" Leon says.
"Uh hey. So... You haven't slept yet?" Jill asks. She sounds....... Nervous?
"Umm no. You haven't slept either." Leon says. He hears Jill sigh.
"We know why I called." Jill says.
"Yeah so... What are you thinking?" Leon asks.
"Well about y/n..." Leon sighs knowing the topic.
"Hey I admire you....I wouldn't mind if she chooses you-" Leon get cut off by Jill.
"We can share." Jill says. Pin drop silence that lasts exactly 5 miniutes.
"Yeah we can... " Leon says as Jill lets out a breath. "It also depends on her comfort."
"Yeah. I wouldn't mind if she chooses only one of us. But if she's okay and you're okay as well then you know we all can be in a relationship... Just know I don't like you in that way tho. I'm suggesting this because of her. " Jill says.
"I mean I wouldn't agree to this if it wasn't her as well." Leon says.
Both talk for a bit more as Leon hangs up.
Jill doesn't know why she even thought of that. But it was the best solution. She gets to keep peace with Leon and gets you as well. Simple as that.
She sighs as she finally closes her eyes and sleeps. Her body felt so light. A good orgasm helped a lot I guess.
She wakes up around noon. Oh perfect.
She gets up washes her face and eats whatever she had in her fridge.
She finally takes a shower and calls Leon. He picks up after the 4th ring.
"Hey." Leon answers. Voice raspy. Maybe he just woke up.
"Hey. I'm sending you a location. Be there at 4:50 sharp." Jill says.
"Okay?" Leon says.
"Okay then, sleepyhead. Don't be late. We are gonna meet Claire and y/n there." Jill mentions knowing very well that the name alone will make that lazy ass get up and be actually on time.
"Ohhh okay then I will be right on time." Leon says as Jill hears bed sheets shuffling. She sighs.
"Okay then." She hangs up and looks through her closet.
She wants to look nice. Wants to smell nice. Dang she's blushing at the thought of you. She can't wait to meet you.
"Finally!" You exclaim as you get out of the office and hug Claire who was waiting for you.
"Well someone seems very happy today. What happened? " Claire asks.
"Oh well my collage's off, the home works are done andddd today the case I was handing is closed." You were bubbling with joy. You didn't notice how two people were right behind you.
"I'm sooooo happy." You did a little happy dance. And that's when you saw them.
Jill and Leon.
This is embarrassing now. You turn around and look at Claire with a glare that promised nothing but death and torture with a tooth rotting sweet smile.
"Don't look at me like that. You were so happy. Who am I to stop you at your happiest moment." Claire said with a smile.
Oh God they just saw you dance like a kid. Hey the dance wasn't a dance but still that counts because it looked sooo childish.
Then you look at the two very people you were thinking about last night while touching yourself.
"I-I'm sorry. It's n-nice to meet you b-both again." You say. Stuttering. Really? C'mon who wouldn't when Jill is wearing a black crop top paired with a black jean and a blue jacket and Leon is wearing a simple tee that said "hard to kill, easy to fuck" and his signature jacket with a Navy blue jean. How are you supposed to survive this? You're training didn't teach you that.
"Hey it's okay. I thought Claire told you about us visiting today." Leon says.
You turn to Claire just in time to see her gesturing Leon to shut up. As soon as you turn she smiles.
"Hey you know I'm old I forget things and all-" Claire says.
"Yeah but you don't seem to forget my coffee orders depending on moods" you say. Then you sigh. "You're not getting any treat from me for one month." You say as Claire widen her eyes.
"Hey that's a bit too harsh." Claire pouts. You roll your eyes.
"Okay a week." You say.
"Well justified." Claire says then she looks at her phone. "Oh wait Sherry just massaged me. I need to go. What about you, Jill and Leon going to that cafe? I mean get to know them a bit yeah?" Claire says as she rushes to her car and drives off.
You stand there all frustrated. Dang can't handle them with people around. How the hell are you gonna stand normal when all alone? Ugh forget it. Deep breaths.
"So let's go? " Jill asks. You turn to them and smile.
"Yeah let's go. It's not that far away. Only takes ten minutes." You say as you three started walking.
"Everything ready?" Ethan asks as he prepares the chairs in the house's backyard.
"Yeah the food, wine and all ready." You say.
"Where's rosemary?" He asks.
"She's sleeping." You say.
It's been 3 months now since that time. You, Leon and Jill grew close. After that day, one of them will pick you up from home and drop you off to your workplace or your collage and the other will pick you up at the end of day and drop you to your house. It became a routine. Sometimes they will take you somewhere individually and sometimes together. None the less you enjoyed both their company.
Right now you and Ethan were getting ready for the BBQ party he invited his friends to. Rose was sleeping upstairs after coming back from her very first day at school. Poor kid was so tired.
The door bell rings as Ethan goes to the door to answer that.
"Package delivery? " Ethan asks you while holding the box up.
Geezzz. The order for that strap has finally arrived.
"Yeah thanks for picking it up." You take the box and go to your room. Ethan stands there confused because you never actually get anything from online.
The website you were on had The strap toy was surprisingly cheaper then just the toy alone. So you bought it to see if it was good enough. You open it up to see the strap. Yeah quality checks out. You will definitely need it after seeing Jill and Leon tonight. For the past few months you have been using your fingers or the Vibotator you bought some years ago to pleasure yourself. The package came with free lube and everything. Of good now hide it somewhere good and go outside.
After putting the box somewhere safe and secretive, you get out of your room and go to the backyard. Oh everyone has arrived. Suddenly someone covers your eyes from behind.
"Leon, c'mon, let go of my eyes." You as you hear him sigh.
"Yeah yeah." He lets go of you eyes. As you open your eyes to see Jill with two flower Bouquets.
"The red ones mine. That white one are from him. " she says as you take both of them.
"They smell so good! I'm putting these both on my room and on my office! Thanks!" You say as you hug both of them. You let them go as you take in their clothing. Jill wore a silk red slip dress while Leon wore a tight black shirt with black jeans.
"You both look incredible!" You say as you feel your panties getting wet by how good they look.
"And you look like very beautiful." Jill says as she eyes you up and down. You're wearing a tight Navy blue mini dress that shows off your body shape. You wore it knowing how sexy you look in it.
"Hey you three c'mon! Take your seats." Ethan says as you three look at his direction to see Chris also helping Ethan.
"I will also go and help him. You both seat." Leon says as he goes to Ethan and wears a apron and starts helping him. Jill and you sit down and talk with the others.
"I will come back in a minute." Jill excuses herself to the washroom. You get worried.
You sit for another minute before excusing yourself as well.
"Let me check on her." You tell Claire as you get up and go to the washroom.
You open the door to see Jill, eyes closed, all red and frustrated. Her dress was up her waist. Her hand inside her lacy panties. You close the door behind you and go to Jill and stand behind her.
"Need help?" You whisper on her as her ear and look her through the mirror.
She opens her eyes. Teary eyes. Needily looking at you through the mirror. She takes her hand out and turns to face you.
"I-i-" she was about to say something when you cut her off by kissing her.
She kisses you back. Your hands slowly drops to her panties. Cupping her mound. She sighs between the kisses. You slowly let you hands slip inside her panties and let your fingers feel the wetness.
"God dang you're wet. All this for me?" You ask as your middle finger draws painful slow circles around her clit. She moans.
"Oh yes. All f'you." She tries to get more of the friction by moving her hips but your hands hold her waist in place. She whines.
"Nah. You gotta tell me first how long have you wanted this." You say as Jill looks at you.
"The very first t-time we m-met- ahh" she answers and you dip you fingers into her dripping hole.
She holds you forearms tight while you fuck her with you fingers. Your other hand travels from her waist to her breast as you pull the dress down and expose her boobs. Your hand goes on and touches them. She moans. You take one of her boobs in your mouth and suck on them. Her other hand grabs your hair and pulls them. You groan as you suck on her nipple more hurshly. She started to move her hips on your fingers as she got closer. You put one more finger as he throws her head back and moan loudly. You feel her spongy walls cramp up on your fingers.
"That's it, baby. Use my fingers to cum. Cum f'me. Let me taste you." You say as she moans high pitched.
You kiss her exposed neck as you start to suck on them and leave hickeys. She finally cums. But you don't stop and keep going.
"S-stop. Too m-much ahh. " she says but they fall on deaf ears as you keep you going.
"C'mon you can give me one more." You as you go back to sucking on her nipple.
"Oh please... Please fuck-" she whines. You speed up fucking three of your fingers in and out of her and curling into her sensitive spots making her moan load.
It didn't take long for her to cum the second time. You finally let her ride out her bliss. You bring your fingers to your mouth and lick and suck on them. Leaving no traces of her cum. You then kiss her cheek and then kiss her lips.
"I have a strap. Hopefully it fits your waist." You say making Jill chuckle.
"Ughm... " you hear Leon. You froze. God what will he think?
"That was kinda hot....Mind if i... Join?" Leon asks making you look at him.
"Sounds delicious." You say. Making Jill chuckle and Leon smirk.
"Let's take it to your room, beautiful." Jill says as adjusts her dress. In the mean time Leon pulls you thoughs him and kisses you. After a minute three of you leave as you lead the way to your room.
As soon as you three enter and close the door, Jill takes your clothes off and kisses you aggressively. While Leon takes his clothes off.
"Where's the strap, pretty?" Jill asks and you point where it was.
She goes to grab that while Leon chimes in and kisses you. Pushing you into the bed as his hands explores your body while giving strong squishes. You moan into the kiss. He pulls away enough for you to see Jill fully naked and the strap around her waist. Fitting her perfectly. She clambs the bed, sitting in the middle of the bed.
"Come here, sweets." She tells you and you go to her.
She gives you a kiss as she makes you face Leon while your back is pressing on her chest.
"Such a good girl f'us, aren't you? " Leon asks earning a whimper from you.
Both chuckle as Leon sets himself between your legs.
"Fuck so wet for us, honey." Leon says.
"Now be a good girl and don't make much noise. We don't want rose to wake up or your brother to come here and his sister getting fucked by his two friends. Right baby?" Jill tells you as you nod.
Leon licks your cunt then latches onto your clit making moan and throw your head onto Jill's shoulder While kisses and whispers sweet nothings in your ears. She keep you open for Leon by forcing both your legs open while Leon feasts on you.
Leon adds a finger to the pleasure making squirm. Leon adds two more fingers as he goes. Making you go wild.
You moan onto you hand that is covering your mouth and cum hard without any warnings.
"Oh God jill, she tastes fucking amazing." Leon says making Jill look at him.
"Oh yeah?" Jill says as she pulls Leon up.
She lick his jaw that is covered with your juices and cum. She Then kisses him on the lips as Leon kisses her back. Jill moans at the taste of you on his tongue. While kissing Jill, Leon dips his cum drained fingers to the rim of your asshole as he starts to massage it. He breaks the kiss and looks at you.
"Will this be okay baby? Wanna pop that cherry." Leon lean to and kisses you.
He pulls back. To look at you. You nod. He then sinks one finger there. You bite your lips at the stretch. Leon goes down again kissing your thighs while sucking your clit to make you feel good. And Jill starts to play with your sensitive nipples to make you feel good.
As time goes the pain turns into pleasure as you begin for more. Leon's now three finger in and you are a moaning mess between them.
"Fuck you're ready. Pass me the lube jill." He tells jill as they switch position.
Now Leon being behind you while jill on top of you. Jill takes a generous amount of lube and spreads in in the strap while passing the lube to Leon who take the lube and puts a good amount on his dick and your hole.
"Tell us when you're ready baby." Jill says as she lines up her strap to you pussy hole while Leon lines himself up to your asshole.
"I'm ready. Fuck please just enter." You beg making them moan.
Finally they enter first Jill does. Leon lets you adjust to Jill then he as well enters you hole with a groan.
"Fuck she's tight." Jill says.
"It's okay baby. Relax. Relax for us." Leon cooes as he kisses you shoulder.
Eventually you relax letting them moves. They start slow. Then they fall into a rhythm. You were a moaning mess. Leon was biting your neck while Jill was sucking your tits. You cry out onto leon's hand that is covering your mouth as they thrust faster.
Jill's hand drop to you clit and she starts rubbing fast.
"Cum for us baby. Let us feel how good we are making you feel." Jill says as your walls tighten around their cocks.
"Fuckk-" you curse as you cum hard. Jill chuckles.
"Look we got her squirting Leon." Jill says as they both continued to thrust inside you making you overstimulated.
"Oh fuck" Leon groans as he cums inside your asshole.
"Break? Please? " you say breathless.
"Yeah but just know we are not done yet." Jill says.
"Who's place?" Leon asks.
"Mine. I have a queen sized bed. Very comfy as well. " Jill says.
"Good then tonight. Your place." Leon says.
You lay there between them all messed up and covered in sweat.
"What about a proper date in that amusement park tomorrow? " Leon asks you.
"Sounds great." You say.
"Okay then tomorrow the whole day is dedicated to you." Jill says as she kisses you lips.
Request for Leon taking care of drunk reader while she has absolutely no filter 🫠
‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹
"Easy there," Leon said, his voice warm with amusement as he guided you through the front door. His hand was on your lower back, steadying you when you stumbled over the front step. Your vision tilted, spinning In a kaleidoscope of colors as you blindly reached out to Leon's arm to keep upright, except you missed and got a handful of his chest instead.
"Oops," you giggled, not removing your hand. Your fingers squeezing experimentally.
"Honk Honk," you said, giggling to yourself.
Leon’s eye widened and he scoffed in disbelief.
"I think they're bigger than mine," you announced, still groping his pecs like you were testing the ripeness of fruit at the grocery store.
"They are not," he said fighting back laughter. You kept your hands exactly where they were, looking up at him with exaggerated innocence. He raised one eyebrow; his expression amused.
"Can I help you?" he asked leaning into your hands with a crooked smirk on his lips.
"No," you said brightly a smile on your face, giving his chest another appreciative squeeze. "Can I help you, sir? These look heavy."
He couldn’t help the laugh that burst out of him. You laughed with him before you melted into his arms, pressing your face against his neck and inhaling deeply.
"Mmm, you smell so good.” Before you pulled back slightly resting your chin on his chest to look into his eyes. You studied his face with a theatrically confused look on your face. “Y’know, you look Like... like...Like my husband. Who I love. Did you know I have the hottest husband in the whole world?"
"You might've mentioned it," he said, trying to hide his smile as he kicked the door shut behind you. "About fifteen times on the drive home."
"Only fifteen?" You frowned, genuinely concerned. "That's not enough. You're so—" You poked his chest emphatically with each word. "Fucking. Hot. Leon."
He caught your hand before you could poke him again, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. "Let's get you some water, Okay?"
But you had other ideas. Your free hand slid down his torso, and you looked up at him through your lashes. "Or... we could skip the water and get wet in other ways."
"Water first," he said firmly ignoring your lewd suggestion, though his eyes had darkened slightly. He guided you toward the kitchen, keeping one arm around you because you kept veering off course and stumbling over nothing. When you rounded the corner and almost knocked your wedding pictures off the wall, he had enough and bent down, scooping you up to throw you over his shoulder, one hand coming down on your ass with a sharp smack that made you yelp.
"Leon!" you squealed, but you were grinning and laughing as he carried you toward the kitchen. Your hands immediately mischievously slid down his firm back to grab his ass in return, squeezing a handful shamelessly.
"Mrs. Kennedy," Leon said, his voice strained with barely contained laughter. "Please keep your hands to yourself."
"No," you said simply, squeezing again for emphasis. He shook his head before he reached back behind him to gather both of your wrists to hold them captive, he was still grinning as he carried you toward the kitchen. You pouted the whole way there, then immediately perked up when he deposited you onto the counter, standing in-between your legs. "Ooh, I like this." You said wrapping your legs around his waist before he could step away, pulling him close. "No! Stay." you immediately lunged forward, trying to steal a kiss.
"I need to get you water," he said, but he didn't move after that, his hands settling on your thighs.
"Don't care." You cupped his face in both hands, studying him. "Your eyes are so pretty and I love your face." You traced his bottom lip with your thumb. "Everything about you is pretty. How did I get so lucky?"
His expression softened, and he leaned in to kiss your forehead. "I'm the lucky one."
"Don't you know the saying that the wife is always right," you insisted, tightening your legs around him. "You're stuck with me now. Forever. You married me. No takebacks."
"Wouldn't dream of it," he murmured, reaching past you to grab a glass from the cabinet. You took advantage of his proximity to kiss his neck, your hands sliding under his shirt.
Leon caught you by the shoulders, holding you at arm's length. "Water first."
"Kiss first," you counter offered, trying to lean around his hands.
"Water," he repeated not coming down from his initial starting offer, he drove a hard bargain and you couldn't talk him down. You pouted dramatically as he stepped over to the sink, swinging your legs and watching him. Your eyes never left him as he filled the glass, tracking every movement like a cat watching a bird out the window. You made another grab for him wrapping around him like a koala, nipping at his neck as he tried to fill the glass.
"Baby," he said, his voice strained as he filled the glass with water. "You need to drink water."
"I need to drink you," you said, then dissolved into giggles at your own terrible line. "Get it? Because you're a tall glass of—"
"I got it," he said, laughing despite himself. He pressed the glass into your hand. "Drink."
"You're trying to waterboard me," you whined, but you took a sip anyway, never breaking eye contact. The moment you swallowed, you set the glass down and reached for him again. "There. Water. Now kiss."
"More water," he said, fighting back a smile as he pushed the glass back toward you. You took another exaggerated sip, then another, then drained half the glass in one go. "Happy?"
"With you? Always," he said sweetly and you almost melted into a puddle on the counter, he stepped between your legs letting you wrap them around his waist.
You immediately cupped his face, pulling him close. "I love you so much," you breathed, suddenly serious despite the alcohol buzzing through your system. " You're the best thing that ever happened to me, and you're so good to me. Even when I'm being silly."
His expression softened completely, and he leaned his forehead against yours. "You're always a little silly. That's why I love you." he said softly, his hands coming up to cradle your face, his thumbs stroking your cheeks.
"Don't be so sweet to me," you said, your voice wobbling, overwhelmed by the alcohol and emotions. "I'll cry."
"Can't help it," he said, kissing the tip of your nose. You pulled him into a messy and enthusiastic kiss, he could taste the sweetness of the coconut and milk and sour tang of pineapple from the Piña colada’s you'd been drinking. He kissed you back just as thoroughly, one hand tangling in your hair while the other gripped your hip.
When you finally broke apart, both of your chests were heaving, breathing hard. You grinned at him, feeling floaty and warm and so, so in love with the man Infront of you, taking such good care of you even though you were making it your mission to make it as difficult as possible. "Take me to bed?"
"To sleep," he clarified stubbornly, though his voice was a little rough after the kiss.
"Sure," you agreed easily, knowing you'd try to change his mind the second you got there. "Whatever you say, handsome."
He shook his head fondly and scooped you up, carrying you toward the bedroom while you peppered his jaw and neck with kisses, your hands never quite managing to stay to yourself.
The mattress bounced as you flopped onto it, sprawling out like a starfish before you started making sheet angels in the dark navy bed sheets. Leon stood at the edge of the bed, looking down at you with an exasperated but completely smitten look, he couldn’t even try and hide it.
"Don't move," he said sternly pointing to you like you were a unruly dog, before heading to the bathroom.
"Can't promise anything," you called after him, already rolling onto your side and nearly tumbling off the bed. You caught yourself at the last second, giggling. Your dress was rucked up and bunched around your waist, your whole ass out as you rolled over and mashed your face directly into his pillow, letting a drawn-out moan at his scent. Breathing in the notes of the honey and vanilla of the new detergent you just bought, mixed with his own woodsy shampoo that was still lingering on the fabric.
He returned with a makeup wipe, sitting on the edge of the mattress. His hand reached up and gently pulled your dress back into place where it had ridden up, his palm coming to rest on your hip, his thumb tracing along your curves.
"Come on, sit up for me," he said softly, his other hand sliding to your back to help you.
You pushed yourself upright with his help, swaying slightly, and when you saw the makeup wipe in his hand your whole face lit up.
"You remembered!" you said, your words slurring together in your excitement. "You're the best husband ever. I hate waking up with crusty makeup. It's so gross and my face feels all—" You made a disgusted noise, scrunching up your nose.
"I know," Leon said, his expression fond. "That's why I'm doing this."
"You're perfect," you sighed, crawling toward him on your hands and knees, aiming to look seductive and enticing but coming off more like Bambi as you overshoot and bumped into his chest. "Oops." You said laughing as you melted into his chest and he took all of your weight holding you up as he went to clean your face.
"Yeah, oops," he said, his arm coming around your waist to hold you up, while bringing the wipe to your face with the other.
The cool, damp cloth touched your cheek, and you immediately started complaining as he wiped your lips off. "Mmhhhnn!"
"Hold still," Leon said, his voice patient as he cupped the back of your head to keep you in place trying to be even more gentle then before. "You'll thank me in the morning."
"I won't," you insisted, even though you knew he was right, squirming as he wiped away your mascara and eyeshadow. "This is cruel and unusual punishment."
"Mm-hmm." He tilted your chin up, carefully cleaning around your eyes. "So cruel. Taking care of my drunk wife." You tried to protest again but he was already moving to your other eye, his touch gentle despite your fussing. When he finally pulled the wipe away, now thoroughly covered in foundation and mascara. Once he was done you puckered your lips expectantly, eyes still closed.
When nothing happened, you cracked one eye open to find him watching you with barely suppressed amusement. Then his hands came up to squish your cheeks together, making your lips pucker even more before he leaned in and gave you the tiniest quickest peck, releasing you.
"That's it?" you demanded sadly. "That's all I get?"
"That's all you get until you're in bed," he said, standing and moving to the dresser. He pulled out one of his old t-shirts, your favorite one to sleep in. You made grabby hands at it, but when he tried to help you out of your dress, you went completely limp. "Can't move. Too drunk. Guess I have to sleep like this."
"Nice try." He maneuvered your arms out of the sleeves despite your best efforts to be as unhelpful as possible, flopping around like a fish out of water. When he finally got the dress off and tried to put the shirt on you, you suddenly had the energy to twist away.
"Wait, I changed my mind. I want the blue one."
"This is the blue one."
"The other blue one."
"You're wearing this one," Leon said firmly, catching you around the waist and wrestling the shirt over your head. You emerged from the neck hole with your hair sticking up in every direction, and he smoothed it down with a fond shake of his head.
The second you were dressed; you threw yourself backward onto the mattress, like a Victorian lady with a fainting spell. You flung one arm over your eyes; the back of your other hand pressed to your forehead.
"My husband doesn't love me anymore. He's so mean. He forces me to drink water and wear shirts to bed. And he won't ravish me like I know he wants to."
Leon couldn't help but laugh, if there was one thing his wife was when she was drunk, it was honest.
"Sooo tragic," you continued, your voice dripping with drama. "Death from no Snu-Snu."
You peeked out from under your arm to watch as he pulled his own shirt off to get ready for bed, and the entire act you had put on crumbled instantly. Your eyes went wide, tracking the movement of fabric up his torso, over his shoulders. You attempted a whistle, what came out was more of a pathetic swoosh of air with no substance. You tried again, pursing your lips with intense concentration. This time nothing came out at all, you looked like you were trying to blow out candles on an invisible birthday cake, your cheeks puffing out uselessly.
"Are you done?" Leon asked in amusement as he watched your increasingly desperate attempts. You tried one final time, producing what one might call a raspberry, and that was apparently his limit. He grabbed the edge of the blanket and yanked, rolling you up in it like a burrito before you could even protest. You let out a muffled "Hey!" as he climbed in behind you and pulled you flush against his bare chest, wrapping both of you in the cocoon of blankets.
"Just go to sleep, baby." he murmured against your hair, his arm curled around your waist.
You wanted to say how much you loved him or how the joke was on him because this was exactly where you wanted to be, but the words were stuck in your throat as your eyelids grew heavy with sleep. The room was soft and fuzzy around the edges of your vision, and his heartbeat was lulling you to sleep, you were so comfortable, so safe, so...
A soft snore escaped you as you finally closed your eyes, tucked safely in Leon’s arms. Leon pressed a kiss to your shoulder, his own eyes drifting closed, a soft smile still on his lips.
‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹
reader:
Thank you for the request and I hope you enjoyed anon! I wasn’t sure if you wanted something a little spicy but it turned out more sweet! This might be the last little blurb while I’m locked in and finishing my WIP request fic I’ve been working on for a while, I'm finally editing it…and I’m literally so close…Hopefully, I finish it by tomorrow....
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝖍𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖙 𝖔𝖋 𝖆 𝖍𝖔𝖒𝖊 ✦ Leon Kennedy x Reader ✦ Rating: T+ ✦
𝖘𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞:Leon Kennedy's crush begins the moment he watches you calm a sobbing child in the precinct with nothing but kindness and a stuffed raccoon.
Warnings/Notes:Tooth rotting Fluff, Leon being Lovesick, Soft Leon, He wants a Family, Domestic Bliss, Loneliness, Finding a Family, Sweet meet-cute, Co-workers to Friends, Friends to Lovers, Soft Moments, girl dad Leon, boy dad Leon, did I mention Leon was a dad in this?!
︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶
Leon was crouched next to a crying kid sitting at his desk in his chair, feeling like the world's most useless cop. The boy couldn't have been more than five or six, gangly limbs, sharp elbows, and a Pokemon t-shirt two sizes too big and he was wailing. A full-body, hiccupping sob that made his whole frame shake like a leaf in a storm. His face was red and blotchy, eyes swollen, and snot ran down to his upper lip in a glistening trail he kept trying to wipe away with the back of his hand, smearing it across his cheek instead.
Every attempt Leon made only seemed to make it worse. The sticker he'd peeled from the sheet on Sergeant Branagh's desk, a faded "Junior Officer" star that looked like it had seen better days, the edges curling and yellowed, had been met with a look of sadness, like Leon had kicked a puppy. The awkward "hey buddy" he'd tried in what he thought was a soothing voice had triggered a fresh round of tears so loud that Rita had actually stopped mid-phone call to stare, receiver still pressed to her ear, her expression full of pity and secondhand embarrassment for him.
The boy's wails echoed reverberating through the bullpen like the siren on a cruiser, and Leon could feel every eye in the precinct on him. The back of his neck burned, heat crawling up from his collar and spreading across his cheeks. His knees ached from crouching down next to the boy in his chair to seem less intimidating, the stiff fabric of his uniform pants digging into the backs of his thighs. He was only three weeks into this job, still getting used to the work and second-guessing every move he made. Not once in the academy did they teach him how to diffuse this type of bomb, and now he was being defeated by a kindergartner.
He was about to try again, maybe offer his keys to jingle like the kid was a toddler or something, a desperate and humiliating attempt that would have probably made everything worse, when he saw you.
You came through the precinct door with a stack of manila folders threatening to spill from your arms, your ID badge swinging on its lanyard against your chest. He'd seen you around before. You were a paralegal intern, always busy with somewhere to be. You wore your hair pulled back most days, dressed in business casual, you’d been here long enough to stop trying to impress anyone. There was a coffee stain on the cuff of your blouse today, faint but visible if you looked close enough, and Leon had looked, he often found himself looking toward you like his eyes was a compass and you were due North.
You stopped mid-stride, your eyes landing on the sobbing kid, and something shifted in your expression. Your brows drew together in concern, and your mouth pressed into a thin line. Without a word, you pivoted towards your desk that was pushed into a corner of the precinct near the many filing cabinets. The files hit your desk with a loud thump that made Leon flinch. He watched, confused and a little dazed, as you opened your bottom drawer and pulled out a stuffed raccoon, just a little something that they handed out at community events and elementary school visits. It had a little stitched badge on its chest, a slightly crooked smile, and a tail that looked like it had seen better days, the fur matted in places from too many hands.
Then you walked right over, and Leon stepped back instinctively as you dropped to the floor beside the boy. You didn't hesitate or pause to dust off the linoleum and adjust your skirt. You just knelt down, one knee hitting the ground and leaned in close.
"Hey," you said softly, holding the raccoon out in both hands. Your voice was warm and soft like a blanket fresh from the dryer, comforting. "You know what this is?"you said softly, in a kind of maternal tone.
The kid hiccupped, his crying stuttering to a jerky stop as he stared at the toy. His eyes were still wet, lashes clumped together in dark spikes, but he was looking at you now. His bottom lip trembled, but the wail had died down to a shaky, uneven breathing and he was completely focused on your gentle face and soft caring tone.
"This is Officer Bandit," you continued, wiggling the plushie a little so its stubby arms moved up and down, waving to the small child. "He's the bravest raccoon in the whole city. Solves crimes, catches bad guys, the whole deal. But you know what?" You leaned in, your voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper that made the boy's eyes go wide. "He gets scared sometimes too."
"...R-really?" the kid whispered back, his voice small hoarse from all the crying.
"Mm-hm." You nodded seriously, your expression solemn, like you were sharing the most important secret in the world. "Especially in big loud places like this, it's a lot, isn’t it? But you know what helps him feel better?"
The boy shook his head, sniffling hard, his nose still running. You gently took your blouse and wiped his face without even thinking about it.
"When someone holds him tight. Just like this." You smiled softly, and pulled the plushie to your chest, wrapping your arms around it in an exaggerated hug. You even rocked a little, side to side, like you were comforting a real person. "See? Makes him feel safe. You think you can help him feel brave?"
The boy sniffled again, but his hand was already moving. Tentative at first, fingers reaching out to brush the raccoon's worn fur. Then he took it, his small fingers curling into the soft fabric, clutching it to his chest tightly. He squeezed, his knuckles going white, and buried his face in the plushie's fuzzy head.
"There you go. I bet bandit feels so much better, right?," you murmured, and the kid nodded, squeezing the raccoon tighter. He gave it a hug, burying his face in its fuzzy head, and his shoulders, which had been hitching with sobs just moments before, finally started to drop as he calmed down. His breathing evened out, the hitching sobs fading into soft, shaky exhales that shifted the fur on the raccoon.
Leon's heart thumped, hard. His heart tripped over itself and forgotten how to find its rhythm at the sight of you. And then his heart was racing so loud, he swore he could hear it thumping between his ears. He reached up unconsciously to grip at his shirt right In front of his heart willing it to calm down.
You smiled and reached out, brushing a strand of sweaty hair off the boy's forehead. Your touch was gentle and careful, your fingers barely grazing his skin, and the kid leaned into it, starved for kindness. You didn't flinch or pull away from his searching touch. You sat there, one hand resting lightly on his back, rubbing slow circles between his shoulder blades, your thumb tracing a soothing pattern over his spine.
Leon stood there, still as a statue, and he found he couldn't look away from you and the now calm child. Watching you murmur something else to the boy, your head tilted close to his, your lips moving in soft quiet and reassuring words.
"Hey, I like your shirt," you said, tapping the Pikachu printed across the front. "Is Pikachu your favorite?"
The kid nodded, clutching Officer Bandit a little less desperately now.
"Yeah? How come?" You asked gently and you sounded genuinely interested in what he had to say.
"Cause—'cause he's fast," the boy said, his voice still thick with mucus but he wasn’t crying anymore, which was a miracle in itself. "And he can do Thunderbolt and he's Ash's best friend and—and he's yellow, yellow is my favorite color."
"Oooh, yellow's a good color," you agreed, nodding like this was the most important conversation you'd had all day. "You know what? My favorite is also yellow! Do you know Psyduck."
The kid blinked, surprised and nodded quickly. "...Psyduck"
"Yup." You grinned. "You know why?"
He shook his head.
"'Cause he's silly." And then, without warning, you crossed your eyes and put both hands on your head like you were holding it in pain, doing a spot-on impression of the confused little duck.
The kid giggled a bright, hiccupping giggle that filled the room like a rainbow after a storm, and you laughed with him, your whole face lighting up, Leon's mouth went dry as he watched a smile curl on your lips, your eyes crinkled at the corners.
He swallowed hard, a pit the size of a peach stuck in his throat. His pulse was beating loudly in his ears, drowning out the precinct noise around him.
You glanced up then, catching his eye, and raised an eyebrow. "You good, Kennedy?"
Leon blinked, his brain scrambling to form words. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm—" He cleared his throat, feeling heat crawl up the back of his neck, flooding his face until he was sure he was bright red. "Good. I'm good."
You shrugged, a little smirk tugging at your lips, and turned your attention back to the boy. Leon just stood there like an idiot, rooted to the spot, watching the way your fingers carded through the kid's hair again, so naturally, like you'd done this before. Leon wondered if you had kids and felt a seed of disappointment and sadness grow in his stomach.
You tucked a strand behind his ear and the kids’ eyes fluttered closed for just a second, all the crying finally catching up to him as he suddenly grew tired.
He couldn't stop staring at you as you sat there on the dirty floor in your work clothes without a care and you spoke to the kid like he was just as important as the work on your desk that you abandoned, you made something hard look effortless.
After that day whenever he saw or thought of you his chest felt tight and warm all at once, he'd often find himself looking for you in the break room, hoping to catch a glimpse of you pouring coffee or sorting through files. Your smile stayed the longest, replaying in his head when he was trying to fall asleep every night. He'd spend the next week trying to think of excuses to talk to you, to hear your voice again, to see if you'd smile at him the way you'd smiled at that kid.
It started there, with a crying kid, a stuffed animal and you, looking up at him with eyes that would haunt him every waking moment.
︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶
The precinct smelled like cheap pizza and sugar, a sickly-sweet combination that clung to the air and made Leon's head throb. Dozens of kids swarmed the lobby, their voices a cacophony of shrieks and laughter that bounced off every hard surface. Leon stood near the front desk, arms crossed, watching a group of eight-year-olds chase each other around a display table that held pamphlets about stranger danger and bicycle safety. A awkward and nervous smile on his face, a bead of sweat trailing down his temple despite the October chill that had blown in when the doors opened.
This was worse than any training scenario Raccoon City PD had thrown at him.
The lobby looked like a bomb had gone off, if that bomb was filled with glitter, juice boxes, and about forty screaming children from the local orphanage, community center, and the officers own children. Streamers hung from the ceiling in drooping arcs of blue and red, some already torn and dangling down. There were balloons tied to every available surface, and squeaking every time someone brushed past. Someone had set up a craft table near the far wall that was now covered in a layer of glue, construction paper scraps, and what looked like an entire bottle of glitter that had exploded across the surface like a disco ball.
Leon was trying to look authoritative while a kid in curly little space buns with cat ears tugged insistently on his belt and asked if he had a real gun.
"Uh, yeah, but—hey, don't touch that—" He tried to gently redirect her hand, his voice strained with the effort of trying to wrangle a small child, his fingers hovering uselessly near hers like he was afraid to actually touch her and make things worse.
The girl didn't listen. She was already trying to poke at his radio, her sticky fingers leaving smudges on the black plastic.
"Is it heavy? Can you shoot bad guys? Do you have handcuffs? Can I see them? Do you have a Taser? My dad has a Taser too—"
"Maybe later, okay? How about you go—" Leon gestured vaguely toward the craft table, but the girl just stared at him like he'd suggested she eat broccoli.
"But I wanna see your gun," she insisted, and Leon felt his face heat up as Officer Branagh glanced over from across the room, clearly trying not to laugh as his daughter pestered him.
Then you appeared, out of nowhere, sliding between the desk and the swarm of kids. You moved like water, smooth and unbothered, and the kids seemed to part for you instinctively. You were wearing jeans today, not your usual business slacks or pencil skirt, and a blue Raccoon City PD volunteer t-shirt that had seen better days, the logo faded and cracked across your chest. Your hair was pulled back in a ponytail, a few strands escaping to frame your face, and there was a smudge of purple marker, on your forearm, trailing up toward your elbow like you'd been drawing with the kids earlier.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Junior officers!" you called out, clapping your hands together twice.
The kids froze. Even the ones who'd been mid-sprint screeched to a halt, sneakers squeaking on the linoleum, their faces turning toward you with wide-eyed attention.
You crouched down, gathering the kids around you like a storyteller at a campfire, your hands moving as you spoke. "We've got a major situation on our hands," you said, your voice low and serious, like you were briefing a SWAT team before a raid. "There's been a report of a missing cat. Orange tabby. Answers to the name Mr. Whiskers." You paused for dramatic effect, letting the silence stretch, and the kids leaned in, eyes wide, mouths hanging open. "Last seen near the break room."
A collective gasp rippled through the group.
"But here's the thing," you continued, standing up and scanning their faces with a grave expression. "Only the best junior officers can help me find him." You pointed dramatically toward the hallway, your finger jabbing the air. "Think you're up for it?"
The kids erupted in agreement, bouncing on their toes, hands shooting into the air like they were trying to touch the ceiling.
"Me! Me! I can do it!"
"I'm really good at finding stuff!"
"I found my mom's keys once!"
You grinned, and Leon felt something in his chest shift. You stood there, surrounded by chaos, completely in your element, and you looked...you looked happy. Like this was exactly where you were meant to be.
Then your eyes landed on him and your grin widened before you walked over, weaving through the kids with a few pats on heads and "hang on, team, one second" reassurances. When you stopped in front of him, you reached into your pocket and pulled out a plastic junior officer badge, the cheap ones that they had abundance of that they gave out to all the kids earlier, with a safety pin on the back and a shiny gold finish. You pressed it into his palm, your fingers brushing his and Leon's brain short-circuited.
"Officer Kennedy," you said, loud enough for the kids to hear, your voice warm and teasing, and you winked. Actually winked at him, your eye closing in a slow wink that made his stomach flip. "I'm deputizing you. We need all hands on deck for this one."
Leon blinked down at the badge, then at you, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. "Wait, I—"
"No time!" You turned back to the kids, clapping your hands again. "Alright, team, Officer Kennedy is joining the search party. Let's move out!"
Before he could protest a gaggle of kids swarmed him, tiny hands grabbing at his uniform and arms, tugging him forward with the force of a small army.
"Come on, Officer Kennedy!"
"We gotta find Mr. Whiskers!"
"He's probably scared!"
And just like that, Leon found himself on his hands and knees, peering under chairs and desks while a gaggle of children shouted directions at him like he was defusing a bomb.
"No, not there! Over there!"
"Check under the desk!"
"I think I saw a tail!"
"Maybe he's in the trash can!"
One little girl with braids tugged on his sleeve, her face scrunched up in concentration, insisting she saw something orange under the desk. Leon crawled over, his knees protesting against the hard floor, the fabric of his pants pulling tight across his thighs. He reached under the desk, his fingers brushing something soft and fuzzy, and pulled out a stuffed tabby cat, clearly planted there ahead of time, its fur slightly dusty, one of its button eyes hanging by a thread.
The kids erupted.
"He found him!"
"Mr. Whiskers!"
"Officer Kennedy saved him!"
"Is he okay?!"
"Can I pet him?!"
They cheered like he'd just solved a murder case, like he was a hero, and Leon couldn't help it, he laughed. Bubbling up from his chest and spilling out, as he held up the stuffed cat, and the kids crowded around, petting it, asking if it was okay, if it was scared, if it needed water.
"I think he's alright," Leon said, grinning his cheeks aching from the stretch of smiling so wide. "Just a little dusty."
"Good job, Officer Kennedy!" a little boy shouted, pumping his fist in the air, and the others joined in, chanting his name like he'd won the Super Bowl. Leon's face flushed, heat crawling up his neck and spreading across his cheeks, but he was still smiling when he looked up at you.
You were across the room, a kid on your hip, another kid hanging off your arm, and you caught his eye. You smiled at him softly, your eyes crinkling at the corners, and Leon felt that thump again. Like his heart stopped and was restarted, Harder this time. He could feel the cup that held all his emotions inside him cracking and every desire he kept deep inside him spilling out faster than he could contain it, flooding his veins with warmth.
"Good work, Officer Kennedy," you called out, your voice carrying over to him through the noise, the tone full of warmth like a hearth place directly into the home if his heart. He suddenly felt like he had to do something with his hands but they felt clumsy, and he didn't know what to do with them.
He managed to give you a nod and a small nervous smile, his throat tight and face flushed.
︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶
As the event was winding down he retreated to the break room, a poor soldier covered in sticky substances and glitter returning from the front lines, pouring himself a cup of coffee that had been sitting on the burner for at least three hours. It tasted like burnt rubber and was bitter and thick like sludge on his tongue, but he didn't care he really needed it after the past few hours. He leaned his back against the counter and closed his eyes, his head tilting back against the cabinet.
After a few mins Leon opened his eyes, and there you were. You had a kid on your hip, one of the orphanage kids, a little boy with a mop of dark curls and chocolate from the raccoon cake pops smeared across his cheek. You were murmuring something soft to him, your free hand brushing his curls back from his forehead as you grabbed a napkin from the counter, your movements gentle and practiced.
Leon watched, frozen, as you wet the napkin under the tap and gently wiped the boy's face. The kid squirmed, giggling, his little hands pushing at yours, his legs kicking against your side.
"Hold still, mister," you said, your voice playful but firm, that same tone you'd used with the other kids all day. "You've got half a chocolate cake pop all over your face."
"Nooo," the boy whined, squirming with the biggest smile on his face. His smile was so innocent and infectious that you couldn’t help but return it, smiling down at the mischievous little kid that refused to have a clean face.
"Yeeesss," you said in a sing song tone playing along with him, dabbing at his cheek with the napkin. "There we go. All clean."
You set the boy down, and he ran off toward the door where one of the chaperones was waiting, to whisk him away. He waved at you over his shoulder, his hand opening and closing in an exaggerated motion.
"Bye-bye!" he called.
"Bye, sweetheart," you said, waving back, your voice the same soft and warm tone you used on all of the children today.
You turned eyes drifting towards Leon and you caught him staring yet again.
"Is there something on my face too?" you asked, raising an eyebrow, your lips quirking into a smirk, your head tilting to the side.
"No! Nothing…." He took a sip of his coffee, trying to look casual like he hadn't just been imagining what it would be like to wake up next to you every morning.
But his brain was spinning and painting pictures he had no business imagining. You, in a kitchen that wasn't the break room, all warm and lived-in, with toys scattered across the floor and crayon drawings stuck to the fridge with magnets. Sunlight streaming through the windows, catching in your hair. A kid, his kid he thought, with his blue eyes and your smile, tugging on your hand, begging for one more story before bed, their voice sweet like cotton candy.
In his imagination you were there, glowing and laughing, the center of it all. The heart of a home. Of your shared home. A hand resting on a rounded belly, your face soft and content, his ring on your finger and his name on your lips.
Leon's grip tightened on his mug, his knuckles going white. He wanted his vision to be true, wanted to build a life with you, brick by brick. A messy and imperfect life, but a life shared with you. More than anything despite it being inappropriate to imagine you like this when you didn’t even know his feelings for you he wanted more than anything to watch you grow round with his child, wanted to feel them kick under his palm, to see you glow with the knowledge that you were growing a life inside you. He wanted to do anything and everything for you. To wake up in the middle of the night and get you whatever weird craving you had, pickles with peanut butter, mango with hot sauce, you name it he would get it. He would be happy to rub your feet when they ached, and hold your hair back if you got sick. He wanted to be there for every single second of it
He would be the happiest man on earth if only he could slide a ring onto your finger and stand in front of everyone they knew and say I do.
Everything hit him all at once like a freight train directly to his chest and he had to look away from you, before you could noticed the way his face had gone completely red, his hands trembling slightly around the mug.
"You okay, Kennedy?" you asked, your voice softer with concern, and he heard you take a step closer.
"Yeah," he said, his voice rough before he cleared his throat. "Yeah, I'm good. Just... tired."
You nodded, accepting the answer, and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. "You did good today," you said, glancing at him over your shoulder, your ponytail swinging. "The kids loved you."
Leon's heart started racing as it always seemed to do around you, an uncontrollable reaction to your presence. "Thanks," he managed quietly. "You were... you were great with them."
You shrugged, but your cheeks flushed, just a little, a soft pink spreading across your skin. "I like kids," you said simply, twisting the cap off the water bottle. "They're honest...maybe a little too honest sometimes ."
Leon huffed a laugh. "Yeah. That's one way to put it."
You smiled, and for a moment, the break room felt smaller. He wanted to cross the room. Wanted to cup your face in his hands and kiss you until you were breathless, like he'd imagined a thousand times before in the dark hours of his room when he finally let his thoughts of you run wild. If only he could press you against the counter and bury his face in your neck just to breathe you in.
But he didn't and couldn’t, he just gripped his coffee mug tighter and watched you leave. Tossing the now empty water bottle in the recycling bin, before you gave him one last smile and walked out of the break room, your footsteps fading down the hall. Leon was alone again, staring into his coffee, his mind racing and heart pounding, his whole body aching.
︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶
It was late and the station had emptied out hours ago, the building now quiet except for the fluorescent lights buzzing overhead, casting everything in a yellow glow that made Leon's eyes sore.
It was just the two of you in the breakroom, surrounded by stacks of paperwork that never seemed to end. A pocket of calm, a bubble of warmth in the cold, empty precinct. It was mind-numbing work, that made your eyes glaze over and your hand cramp around your pen, but Leon didn't mind. Not when you were there.
You were across the table, pen in hand, scribbling notes on a case file. Your handwriting was neat, precise, each letter carefully formed, and Leon found himself watching the way your wrist moved, the way your fingers gripped the pen with each stroke. He'd given up pretending to work about twenty minutes ago. He was just watching you now, as you chewed on your bottom lip while you were concentrating. Your hair kept falling into your face, pushing it back with the heel of your hand, leaving a smudge of ink on your forehead that you didn't seem to notice.
You were wearing glasses tonight, thin-framed lenses that were perched on the bridge of your nose, and Leon had never realized how much he liked that look until now. You looked beautiful, and it made his fingers itch with the urge to reach across the table and brush that unruly strand of hair behind your ear.
"You ever think about the future?" he asked suddenly.
You looked up, surprised, your pen pausing mid-word. "Like... tomorrow? Or?"
"I…just in general. Like what you hope or dream about for yourself." He leaned back in his chair, the plastic creaking under his weight, and rubbed a hand over his face, suddenly exhausted. "I don't know. I just... I grew up pretty lonely, you know?" He dropped his hand, staring at the table, at the coffee ring stains and the scratches in the laminate. "After my parents died, it was just me and my focus was on my career. I joined the force because I wanted... A place to belong where I could do good."
You set your pen down, giving him your full attention. Your eyes were soft and full of understanding, watching and listening as Leon was spilling out all the things he'd kept locked away.
"I never knew what I wanted beyond doing some good as a police officer. Never thought about marriage or kids." Leon paused, his eyes shifting toward you, in a quick glance before darting away again. He exhaled slowly, shaking his head as if to dislodge whatever nerves had sunk their claws into him.
"But lately I've been thinking about it," he continued, his voice dropping lower. "Imagining myself with a house. A couple of kids running around, causing trouble..." His lips quirked into a faint, uncertain smile. "Honestly? It doesn't sound too bad." He finally lifted his face, his bright blue eyes meeting yours.
"Is that stupid?" He laughed self-consciously, and rubbed the back of his neck, fingers digging into the tense muscle there. "I mean, I don't even know if I'd be a good dad."
You were quiet for a moment, and Leon's stomach dropped. He'd laid himself bare and now his heart was in your hands. You reached across the table, covering his hand with yours. The contact sent a jolt or electricity racing up his arm and he stared down at your hand on his.
"It's not stupid, Leon." you said softly, your thumb brushing over his knuckles in a slow, soothing motion that made his skin tingle. "You'd be a great dad. You're kind, you care so deeply about people, even strangers, and you work hard at everything you do no matter how difficult it might be. Your kids?" You squeezed his hand gently. "They'd be so lucky to have you."
The words were everything he needed to hear and more and he felt his chest fill with affection as he stared at you, the warmth in your eyes, the sincerity in your voice, the way you were looking at him. A piece Clicked into place like a puzzle he hadn't known was missing.
This wasn't just a crush, attraction, or just lust. No this feeling was a need to wake up next to you every morning and fall asleep with you every night.
Leon cleared his throat. "Can I... can I ask you something?"
"Sure," you said, your hand still covering his, your thumb still tracing circles on his skin.
"Would you want to—" He stopped, his courage faltering, his throat tight. Then he forced himself to keep going, forced the words out before he could lose his nerve and talk himself out of it. "I really like you. Would you want to go out sometime? With me. Like, on a date."
Your eyes widened, and for a second, Leon thought he'd just made the biggest mistake of his life. You were going to pull your hand away, tell him you didn't see him that way, that he was a nice guy but—
You smiled brightly as you laughed. "I like you too, Leon." you said, your voice a little breathless, your cheeks flushed pink, the color spreading down your neck and disappearing beneath the collar of your shirt. "Yes, I'd love to go out."
Leon grinned, his whole body flooding with relief and joy, a happiness so bright and overwhelming. "Are- I mean really?"
"Yeah, Leon." You squeezed his hand, your smile widening, your eyes sparkling under the shitty fluorescent lights like they were stars. "I'd really like that."
Leon laughed and ran his free hand through his hair, his grin so wide. "Okay. Okay, good. Great. That's—" He shook his head, still grinning like a kid who'd just been told Christmas was coming early. "That's great."
You laughed too, and the sound wrapped around him like a blanket.
"So," you said, your thumb still tracing circles on his knuckles, sending sparks up his arm, making his skin feel too tight and his face to warm. "When were you thinking?"
"Uh—" Leon's brain scrambled, trying to form coherent thoughts through the haze of happiness and disbelief. "This weekend? Saturday? If you're free?"
"I'm free," you said, and you were looking at him like you'd been waiting for him to ask.
"Okay," he said, his voice rough. "Saturday."
"Saturday," you echoed, and your smile softened. You sat there for a moment, hands still touching across the table. The paperwork was forgotten, It was just the two of you, bathed in the sickly yellow light.
He wanted to lean across the table to pull you close and never let go. Instead he just held your hand, grinning like an idiot, and let himself bask in the warmth of your smile.
"I should probably let you get back to work," you said eventually, your voice soft and reluctant.
"Yeah," Leon said.
Your thumb brushed over his knuckles one more time, and then you slowly pulled your hand away, your fingers trailing across his palm, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. Leon's hand felt cold without yours, to keep him warm and he had to fight the urge to reach out to pull you back across the table and keep you there.
You picked up your pen, your cheeks still flushed, a soft smile still at the corners of your lips. you went back to your files, but Leon saw the way your smile lingered and your eyes kept flicking up to meet his.
Leon picked up his own pen, pretending to read the report in front of him, but the words blurred together, meaningless. All he could think about was you. Saturday couldn't come fast enough.
︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶
You'd noticed him on his first day, it was hard not to really. He'd walked into the precinct with his shoulders back and his chin up, trying so hard to appear more confident than he was, but you'd seen the way his eyes had shifted around the room quickly in a way that betrayed his nerves. He was a new rookie, fresh out of the academy, still carrying that fresh untested energy that was obvious in all of them in the beginning.
You'd been at the filing cabinets, sorting through a stack of case files that seemed to multiply every time you turned your back, that all needed to be cross-referenced and filed in the correct order, and you'd watched him shake hands with Sergeant Branagh. He nodded along to whatever speech the sergeant was giving about duty and honor and serving the community, his expression earnest and attentive. He'd tugged at his collar when he thought no one was looking, like the uniform was too tight or the room was suddenly too hot, a nervous tick if you ever saw one.
He was cute, you'd give him that. Tall, with broad shoulders, a young pretty face, with a constellation of moles that dotted along his neck and face, blonde hair that fell just a little too long over his forehead and blue eyes that were startlingly bright and earnest. He was the kind of guy that would've made your college roommate swoon and start planning a wedding after one conversation and you wouldn’t have blamed her.
You'd looked at him with no more than a curious glance before turning back to your files, pushing all of those thoughts away. you had a job to do and you didn't have time to get distracted by every good-looking rookie who walked through the door.
︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶
The first couple of weeks, you'd kept your distance. Not because you were cold, no, it wasn't that. You weren't a cold person normally or at least you didn't think you were, but you kept your head down because you were busy. The precinct was always busy, and the paralegal internship was demanding in ways you hadn't fully anticipated when you'd accepted it. So, you worked. Head down, focused, moving between the filing cabinets and the desks upstairs with the energy that discouraged small talk. You didn't linger in the break room or chat with the officers unless it was necessary. You were polite, professional, and you kept to yourself.
But you noticed him, sometimes, when you would stop and look up for a second, pausing to stretch your back or rest your eyes from the endless sea of paperwork, you'd catch glimpses of him. And you noticed that he tried, so hard at everything he did. No matter how small or difficult the task.
︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶
You'd been coming back from upstairs, arms full of manila folders, something your supervisor Elle had thrust into your arms that morning with a bright smile on her face, which was deceptive because despite her cheerful demeanor and clothing, she meant business.
Your desk was pushed in the corner, closest to the door and the filing cabinets, which worked for you. You weren't at your desk too often, anyway, always running from Elle's office upstairs down to here where you would file and do most of your actual work. The setup wasn't too ideal for you but Elle did t have room for you in her office and keeping you here kept you out of the way of the officers who needed space to move.
You could hear the crying through the door, It had carried through the wood and glass like a siren. A high-pitched wail, crying that made something in your chest clench instinctively. You'd stopped in your tracks as you entered the bullpen, your arms still full of folders, eyes scanning the room until you'd found the source.
A little boy, no more than five or six, sitting in a chair by Leon's desk. His face was red and blotchy, tears streaming down his cheeks in fat, glistening tracks, snot running down to his upper lip. He was full-on sobbing, not the fake crocodile tears that your siblings would use on you to make you feel bad for not getting their way. These were real tears, the kind that kids shed when they were truly upset and overwhelmed. His whole body was shaking with it, his small shoulders hitching with each gasping breath, and Leon was crouched next to him, looking completely lost.
You were sure that no one had asked him to help. No one had told him to deal with the kid. The boy's mother had probably stepped away for a moment, and the other officers had conveniently found reasons to be busy elsewhere, but there Leon was, trying anyway like he always was.
You'd watched him pull a sticker from Sergeant Branagh's desk and offer it to the boy with a hesitant smile. Watched the kid look at it like Leon was offering him a live grenade, not a harmless sticker to deputize himself right there on his Pokémon shirt. You watched Leon's face fall, his shoulders slumping just a little, the hope draining from his expression before he tried again, his voice soft and uncertain.
"Hey buddy," he'd said, and the kid had just cried harder, and it felt like someone had reached in and squeezed your heart with a firm, unrelenting grip.
You knew that feeling. In fact, you had been in Leon's place many times before. You knew what it was like to try so hard and feel like you were failing, like nothing you did was enough, like you were floundering in deep water with no idea how to reach the surface. You'd felt it a thousand times growing up, trying to wrangle your siblings, trying to be the second parent your mom needed you to be when she was working two jobs and barely had time to breathe, let alone handle four kids under the age of twelve.
You'd felt it when your little brother had scraped his knee on the playground and you'd been the one to clean it up, to kiss it better, to tell him he was brave even though you were only ten years old yourself and had no idea what you were doing. When your baby sister had cried for hours and you'd been the one pacing the living room at two in the morning, bouncing her in your arms until your shoulders ached and your eyes burned, whispering nonsense words until she finally, finally fell asleep against your chest.
So, you'd set down the folders on your desk, with a soft thump, not caring that they were probably out of order now. You’d opened your drawer and pulled out Officer Bandit.
You hadn't planned to keep the plushie in your desk. It had just sort of... ended up there. Left over from some community event months ago, just something that you thought was cute, shoved into the drawer and forgotten until you'd needed it. You'd started using it to comfort yourself when things got rough or you had a particularly bad day, opening the drawer and reaching down to just brush the fur in one direction, feeling the soft texture under your fingertips, the rhythmic motion soothing you.
It was the same trick you'd used on your siblings when they were upset, a soft stuffed animal went a long way when you were trying to calm an overwhelmed child. And somehow, you'd adopted it yourself, a self-soothing measure that you were probably too old for but couldn't quite give up. But now you were glad you had officer bandit tucked away for a moment like this.
When you'd crouched down next to that little boy, watching as his sobs had stuttered to a stop as he'd stared at the raccoon with wide, wet eyes, when his small fingers curl into the soft fabric and squeeze. You'd felt something inside you melt, something warm and tender spreading through your chest. But It wasn't just about the kid finally looking at peace, his breathing evening out, his tears slowing to hiccups. It was about Leon too.
You'd brushed the kids hair off his forehead with gentle fingers, rubbing slow circles on his back between his shoulder blades, but you'd been acutely aware of Leon standing there, watching you.
You'd glanced up at him, and he'd been staring at you like you'd just performed a miracle, like you'd walked on water or pulled a rabbit out of a hat. His eyes were wide, his mouth slightly open, and the soft, warm expression on his face made your stomach flip in a way that was both thrilling and terrifying. You'd felt your cheeks flush subtly, heat crawling up your neck.
When you'd caught his eye and raised an eyebrow. "You good, Kennedy?" you'd seen the way his face had gone red, the color flooding his cheeks and spreading down his neck. How he'd stammered out a response, his voice rough and unsteady, his hand rubbing the back of his neck in that nervous gesture you were starting to recognize, and you'd had to bite back a smile.
Oh…he was cute. He was really, really cute. But you'd again forced yourself to focus on the task at hand, you didn't have time to get distracted by a rookie who was cute…with nice eyes and a smile that made your heart do stupid things.
︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶
Except It seems the universe was not on your side and you couldn't stop thinking about him. You'd started noticing him more after that day with the kid.
Leon often smiled when he thought no one was looking, a soft smile that made the corners of his eyes crinkle, made his whole face light up in a boyish way.
He always held the door open for people, even when his hands were full. He'd juggle files and coffee cups and evidence bags, contorting himself into awkward positions just to keep the door propped open with his shoulder or his foot, waiting until everyone had passed through before he'd follow. He never complained.
He’d often make extra coffee in the breakroom and leave it on the counter for whoever needed it, never asking for thanks. You'd come in some mornings to find a fresh pot brewing, still hot, and you'd know it was him. You'd seen him do it once, early, before the day shift had fully rolled in, setting it to brew before slipping out like he was afraid someone would catch him in the act of being kind.
One night when you'd walked into the breakroom, exhausted and frazzled from a long day of chasing down missing files and dealing with an attorney who'd been an absolute nightmare. Your hair had been falling out of its ponytail, your blouse wrinkled, your eyes burning from staring at documents for too many hours straight. You'd just wanted coffee and to sit and relax for five minutes, anything, to get you through the last hour of your shift. The break room usually had more chairs, but you suspected, as you looked at the single table that usually had at least two chairs, that people forgot to bring them back after a briefing.
Leon had been sitting there in the break room, head down just reading a report when he’d looked up from the table, his eyes widening slightly when he saw you, and without a word, he'd stood up and offered you, the only chair.
Not in a showy way that was meant to be some grand gesture of chivalry, where he expected something in return. No, he'd just... stood up, gestured to the chair, and said, "Here. You look like you need it more than I do."
His voice had been soft, sincere, and when you'd tried to protest. "No, it's fine, I'm just grabbing coffee" he'd shaken his head and gently guided you toward the chair with a hand on your elbow.
"Sit please," he'd said kindly with a smile on his face. And you found you couldn’t say no to that face.
You'd sat, and he'd poured you a cup of coffee without asking how you took it. Two sugars, no cream. He'd remembered. And then he'd set the cup in front of you, his fingers had brushed yours, just for a second.
"Thanks," you'd murmured, wrapping your hands around the cup, and he'd smiled at you and said, "Anytime."
Then he'd gone back to his reports, standing at the counter, because you'd taken his chair, and he hadn't complained once.
︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶
After that day in the break room It was like you couldn’t stop looking for him, It wasn't conscious at first. You'd just... find yourself glancing up from your files when you heard his voice, your eyes tracking him across the bullpen as he moved from desk to desk, helping other officers with their reports or asking questions about procedures. You'd linger in the breakroom a little longer when you saw him there, pretending to be engrossed in the bulletin board or the vending machine selections, just so you could be in the same space as him, hear his voice and see his smile.
You'd find excuses to walk past his desk. Dropping off files that could have been left. Asking questions, you already knew the answers to. Offering to help him with paperwork you had no business touching.
And he always looked up. His face would light up when he saw you, his eyes crinkling at the corners, his mouth curving into that smile that made your stomach flip. "Hey," he'd say, like he'd been waiting for you to walk by. And you'd smile back, your heart doing that stupid flutter that you were starting to associate exclusively with him, and you'd find some reason to stay a little longer. To lean against his desk and chat about nothing, about the weather, about the latest ridiculous call that had come in, about the new coffee shop that had opened down the street.
He'd look at you when he thought you weren't paying attention. His gaze lingering on your face before he'd catch himself and look away, his cheeks flushing. He'd often find excuses to touch you. Brushing past you in the narrow aisles of the filing room, his hand grazing your arm. Reaching across you to grab a file, his arm pressing against yours. Handing you a pen and letting his fingers linger on yours just a second too long.
It was subtle. So subtle you weren't sure if you were imagining it and reading too much into innocent gestures, if your own growing feelings were coloring your perception.
︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶
It had been during the community event, the one with all the kids running wild through the precinct, their voices echoing off the walls, their laughter filling every corner of the building. You'd been helping wrangle them, handing out juice boxes and wiping sticky faces with damp napkins, tying shoelaces and settling disputes over who got to sit where. Leon was on his hands and knees searching for a stuffed cat while a gaggle of children shouted directions at him like he was navigating a minefield.
He'd been grinning and laughing, his hair was a mess, sticking up in six different directions from where at least three kids had tried to style it with their sticky hands. His uniform was wrinkled, the collar askew, and there was a suspicious sticky spot on his shoulder that you were pretty sure was juice box residue, and he'd looked happy. His eyes were bright, his face flushed, and when he'd finally pulled that stuffed cat out from under the desk and held it up, the kids had erupted in cheers, and Leon had laughed, a full, belly-deep laugh that made your chest tighten, and you felt that familiar ache settle deep in your ribs, spreading through your whole body like warmth from a fire.
You'd grown up in a big family. Four siblings, all younger than you, The house was always loud and chaotic, and someone was always demanding something of you. Your mom had worked two jobs to keep the lights on and food on the table, and you'd been the one to pick up the work. You'd been the one to make sure everyone got to school on time, to help with homework, to break up fights and kiss scraped knees and read bedtime stories.
You'd been a second parent before you'd even hit puberty, and you'd loved it and hated it equally. When it was bad, it was bad and you hated it, but when it was good, it was amazing and you'd loved it. You'd loved the noise, the chaos, the way your little brother would climb into your lap and fall asleep during movie night. Loved when our baby sister would reach for you when she was scared, and the way your other siblings would come to you with their problems, their secrets, their fears.
You'd loved being needed and loved by them, but then you'd left for college, and everything had gone quiet. Your dorm room had been silent, your apartment after graduation even more silent. Sometimes it ate at you, and you craved being home, where it wasn’t so quiet that you could hear your every thought like a drop in a still lake. I mean sure the precinct was loud at sometimes which helped, but it wasn't the same, It wasn't home.
You'd buried that longing deep inside, told yourself you didn't need it, that you were fine on your own. You'd thrown yourself into your work and into building a career, you were strong, independent, and self-sufficient.
But then you'd met Leon, and that desire had come roaring back, clawing through your chest cavity to eat at your insides. You wanted him. You wanted to build a life with someone who would get down on the floor with kids, who would try so hard even when he didn't know what he was doing, who would look at you like you were the only person in the room. Who would laugh like that let himself be silly and messy.
You wanted the noise and chaos. The sticky fingers and the laughter and the bedtime stories and the scraped knees. You wanted the life you'd had growing up, the life you'd been missing for so long, the life you'd buried under career ambitions and independence and the lie that you didn't need anyone, and you wanted it with him.
Later once the children had left and you were alone, he'd asked you about the future. You'd been working on paperwork together, the precinct quiet and empty around you, and he'd looked up from his files and said, "You ever think about the future?” This was the moment in which you knew that everything could change.
So, you'd set down your pen, and you'd looked at him, and you'd listened, and when he'd talked about wanting a house, kids, dogs, a family. When he'd looked at you with those blue eyes full of hope and vulnerability and asked, "Is that stupid?", you'd reached across the table and taken his hand.
"It's not stupid, Leon," you'd said. "You'd be a great dad.” And you'd meant it with every fiber of your being, because you'd seen someone kind, and patient, and selfless. Someone who tried so hard, who cared so much, who wanted to make the world a better place.
When he'd told you that he liked you and asked you out, his voice shaking, his face flushed, you'd said yes without hesitation.
︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶
The house was a disaster.
Leon stood by the counter top, surveying the wreckage like a cop at a crime scene. Toys littered the floor, action figures, a headless Barbie doll that had seen better days, building blocks scattered like shrapnel from an explosion, a stuffed raccoon that looked suspiciously like the one from the precinct all those years ago, now missing an eye and most of its stuffing.
The breakfast table was a war zone. Cereal scattered across the surface like confetti. Milk dripped steadily onto the floor in a rhythmic plink that was starting to drive him insane. There was a suspicious sticky puddle near Oliver's placemat that might have been syrup or jelly.
The TV blared a cartoon theme song at full volume, singing about a talking dog and a mystery van, bright colors and loud voices that drilled into his skull. The dishwasher was rattling through its cycle, the plates inside clanking together and the refrigerator hummed and over it all, the voices of his three children, each one louder than the last, competing for dominance like they were auditioning for a reality show about who could drive their father crazy first.
Leon stood in the middle of it all, barefoot, his old RPD academy shirt wrinkled and riding up slightly from where Sophie had been using him as a climbing post five minutes ago, her sticky hands leaving prints on the fabric. His sweatpants had a suspicious stain on the thigh and his hair was sticking up in about six different directions because he hadn't had time to shower yet.
He had Oliver wrapped around his leg like a koala, tugging insistently with sticky fingers on Leon's pant leg, his small face scrunched up in determination. While Leon tried to grab items from the fridge.
“Papa, Papa, I want pancakes!”
Leon looked down at him, four years old, blue eyes wide and demanding, his blonde hair, the color of honey in the sunlight sticking up in cowlicks that defied gravity and every attempt Leon had made to smooth them down. He was wearing his Batman pajamas, the ones with the cape that he refused to take off even though he'd been wearing them for three days straight and they were starting to smell like a combination of sweat and maple syrup.
“Ollie, buddy, we just had pancakes yesterday—“
"Papa! Look what I can do!" That was Emma, their oldest, standing on her chair at the table like it was a stage and she was the star of the show. Seven years old and already too smart for her own good, with a vocabulary that sometimes made Leon wonder if she was secretly a tiny adult in a kid's body.
She was waving a spoon like a sword, her blonde hair cascading past her shoulders in tangles that would take ten minutes and a bottle of detangler to fix, whipping around as she moved. She had food smeared across her cheek and her pink nightgown was twisted around her waist, the hem riding up to show her knobby knees.
"Em, get down before you—"
"Mine!" That was Sophie. Three years old, a tiny whirlwind of chaos who was currently on top of the kitchen counter. Leon's heart seized, his dad instincts kicking in as he watched her curls bouncing, chubby little hands yanking at a box of cereal she'd somehow managed to reach despite being three feet tall on a good day. She teetered dangerously close to the edge, her toes curling over the granite, her balance precarious, and Leon could already see the trajectory of the fall in his mind.
"Sophie, no—" he said reaching for her, but you were faster.
You swooped in from the hallway before Leon could even take a step, your reflexes honed by years of wrangling three tiny humans who seemed determined to injure themselves in increasingly creative ways. You scooped Sophie off the counter with practiced ease, one arm hooking around her waist.
"Nice try, Fi-bug," you said, your voice warm and patient despite the fact that it was seven in the morning and you'd probably been up for a while. Leon was up at five in the morning when Sophie crawled into your bed and kicked Leon in the ribs until he'd groaned and rolled over, giving up on sleep entirely as he got up to let you sleep some more.
You settled Sophie on your hip, and she pouted, her lower lip jutting out in a move that was pure manipulation and had worked on Leon more times than he cared to admit. Her blue eyes, Leon's eyes, not the only thing she'd inherited from him, went wide and glassy, threatening tears. But you were immune to her manipulation, and just kissed her forehead, your lips pressing against her curls, soft and gentle, and smiled.
"How about we sit at the table like a big girl, huh?" Sophie grumbled, an indignant little whine, like a tiny angry bear cub, but she didn't argue, never with mama. You set her down in her booster seat, the pink one with the unicorns on it that she'd picked out herself at the store, screaming "THAT ONE!" at the top of her lungs until Leon had caved and bought it. She immediately grabbed a fistful of Cheerios and shoved them into her mouth, her cheeks puffing out like a chipmunk.
Emma was still standing on her chair, spoon raised and you pointed at her without even looking, your mom-radar finely tuned after seven years of this.
"Emma Kennedy, sit. Now."
Emma sat. Just like that. No argument or negotiation. She plopped down into her chair, crossed her arms over her chest in a huff, and went back to eating her cereal.
Leon stood there, next to the microwave waiting for Ollie's pancakes, watching you move through the chaos like you were performing some kind of magic he didn't understand but was endlessly grateful for. You wiped Sophie's face with a damp cloth you'd pulled from seemingly nowhere your movements efficient and gentle, your touch soft. You poured Oliver a cup of juice without him even asking, because you already knew he was going to ask. You somehow managed to get Emma to eat an actual bite of cereal instead of flinging it at her brother, which was a minor miracle in itself, the kind of thing Leon would have needed at least thirty minutes to accomplish.
And then you looked at him, your hair was falling into your face, strands escaping the messy bun you'd thrown it into before bed last night, the elastic barely holding on. Your shirt the one with the faded RPD logo on the chest that he'd worn during his first week on the job, was stained with God-knows-what. There was a smudge of something on your cheek. You looked exhausted and frazzled. Your eyes had dark circles under them, your skin a little pale from lack of sleep.
You looked beautiful and you laughed as you looked at him, like you knew exactly what he was thinking. It was the same laugh, the one he'd heard in the precinct all those years ago, when he'd been a nervous rookie with no idea what he was doing, watching you calm a crying kid with nothing but a stuffed raccoon and a smile. The same one he'd heard on your first date, when he'd spilled red wine on the white tablecloth and you'd told him it was fine, that you liked messy, that perfection was overrated. The same one he'd heard in the delivery room, exhausted and radiant and covered in sweat, holding Emma for the first time while Leon cried like a baby himself, his hands shaking as he touched her tiny fingers.
It was the same laugh, and it still made his chest tighten, still made his heart do that stupid thump that he'd never quite gotten used to.
Leon looked at the kids, Emma, now actually eating her cereal her spoon moving from bowl to mouth in a rhythm that was almost civilized; Oliver, shoveling tiny pieces of leftover pancakes that Leon placed in front of him into his mouth by the fistful, syrup and chocolate dripping down his chin; Sophie, babbling to herself in a stream of nonsense words punctuated by the occasional "mine!" and "no!" and kicking her feet against the chair, and then back at you.
This was what he'd wanted all those years ago, this exact moment.
He crossed the kitchen, his bare feet sticking slightly to the floor where syrup had pooled, the tile cold and slick. He ignored all of that as he wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, pulling you against him, and buried his face in the curve of your neck.
You smelled like coffee and baby shampoo.
"Leon," you said, laughing, your hands coming up to rest on his forearms, your fingers warm and slightly damp from the washcloth. "What are you doing?"
He didn't answer. He just held you tighter, his chest pressed against your back, his arms wrapped around you like he could keep you there forever, keep this moment frozen in time. His chin hooked over your shoulder, and he closed his eyes, breathing you in.
"We did good," he whispered.
You went still and he felt you take a breath, felt the way your body softened against his, the tension draining out of your shoulders. And then you turned in his arms, your hands coming up to cup his face, your palms warm against his stubbled jaw, your thumbs brushing over his cheekbones.
When you looked at him, your eyes were soft and warm and full. "Yeah," you said quietly, your thumb brushing over his cheekbone, tracing the line of his face like you were memorizing it. "We really did."
Emma made a loud gagging noise from the table, her face scrunched up in exaggerated disgust. "Ew, gross."
Oliver giggled, a high-pitched sound that was pure mischief, his eyes sparkling. Sophie threw a piece of cereal at the wall. It stuck, clinging to the paint.
Leon didn't care. He leaned down and kissed you, his hands sliding up to cradle the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair. You smiled against his lips, and he felt the curve of your mouth, the warmth of your breath, you melted into him like you always had, like you always would.
When he pulled back, you were grinning, your eyes sparkling with that same warmth, that same light that had drawn him in all those years ago and never let go.
Leon thought about that rookie cop. The one who'd stood in the precinct with a crying kid and no idea what to do, who'd watched you drop to the floor without hesitation and felt his heart thump for the first time.
When you'd smiled at him across the break room table, late at night with paperwork scattered between you, and told him he'd be a great dad, your voice soft and sincere and full of a belief he hadn't known he needed.
"Love you," he murmured, his forehead resting against yours, his breath mingling with yours.
"Love you too, Kennedy." you said, soft and teasing and full of affection, full of a love that had only deepened over the years and made him want to kiss you all over again.
Sophie threw another piece of cereal. It hit Leon square in the head, bouncing off and landing somewhere near the dog's bowl, where their golden retriever, Super-Biscuit-princess, Biscuit for short, immediately gobbled it up.
You both started laughing, the sound filling the kitchen, drowning out all the noise and chaos. Leon pressed a quick and messy kiss to your lips, catching the corner of your mouth, and you swatted at his chest, still laughing.
"Go shower, Kennedy," you said, pushing him gently toward the hallway. "You smell like a gym sock and syrup."
Leon's grin widened, his chest filling with a warmth. He stole one more kiss, his lips lingering on yours for just a moment longer, and then he headed toward the bathroom stepping over toys.
Behind him, he heard Emma ask, "Mama, can we get a big lizard? Like, a really big one? like a dinosaur."
"Absolutely not," you said, but your voice was warm, patient, the same voice you used when you told Sophie she couldn't eat ice cream for breakfast or when you explained to Oliver why he couldn't bring all of his action figures everywhere he went.
Leon shook his head, still grinning as he stepped into the shower, the hot water hitting his shoulders and washing away all the exhaustion.
✦┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈✦ 𝖆 𝖓 𝖔 𝖙𝖊 ✦┈┈┈┈┈┈┈✦
Here we goooo, finally!!! I was very excited about this concept, and really wanted to do something fluffy and cute so I got carried away!! This was actually a request I got in my messages weeeeeks ago from the lovely @king-thunderstorm, I'm so sorry this took so long and thank you so much for the request! I really needed this one, and I hope you liked it!
✦✧✦ 𝖊𝖓𝖉 𝖔𝖋 𝖋𝖎𝖑𝖊 ✦ see you in the next life ✦✧✦
This post was brought to you by BUNI ✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦
Pairing: Leon S. Kennedy x Reader Setting: RE9 AU - City Under Siege Word count: ~2.7k
Premise: Reader is a civilian field medic scavenging supplies in an abandoned pharmacy when they find Leon S. Kennedy bleeding out from a deep side wound.
Warnings: graphic injury, blood, wound packing, medical trauma, pain
You find him by accident.
The pharmacy on Krovnik Street is supposed to be empty. BSAA swept it three hours ago. You’re only here because command’s triage unit got overrun and you ran out of gauze, antibiotics, anything that clots blood. Civilian medics don’t get supply drops. You get desperation.
You’re reaching for a box of sutures when you hear it — a breath. Not infected. Too controlled. Too human. Too pained.
Your flashlight cuts across the aisle.
Leon S. Kennedy is braced against the prescription counter, one hand clamped over his side, the other holding his 1911 so tight his knuckles are white. Blood runs between his fingers, black in the dim light. His face is gray under the grime.
He sees you and his whole body goes rigid. The gun doesn’t raise. That’s how you know it’s bad.
“Civilian,” he says. Voice low. Flat. A warning. “Turn around. Walk out.”
You should. Infected track sound. Gunfire brings hordes. Talking brings hordes. And a bleeding DSO agent is basically a dinner bell.
Instead, you drop your scavenged bag and hold your hands up. Empty. Non-threatening. “I’m medical,” you whisper. So quiet it’s barely breath. “St. Vittoria General. Let me see.”
“Negative,” he breathes back. “I’m fine.”
Liar. The blood pooling under his boot says otherwise.
A sound scrapes outside — concrete on concrete. Dragging feet. One of them. Close.
Leon’s eyes snap to the door, then back to you. His jaw works. Don’t, that look says. Don’t make a sound. Don’t move. Don’t get yourself killed because I was stupid.
You move anyway.
You cross the tile in three steps and drop to your knees in front of him, staying below the window line. He sucks in a sharp breath when you peel his hand away from his side.
“Shhh,” you breathe instantly, your free hand coming up to cup his jaw. Thumb brushing his cheekbone, feather-light. “I know it hurts. I know. But you have to stay quiet for me, okay? Can you do that, Leon?”
Using his name does something to him. His eyes blow wide. His whole body shudders. No one uses his name in the field. It’s always Agent, Kennedy, sir.
His hand grabs your wrist. Not hard. Just... stopping you. His eyes are blazing and guilty and furious all at once.
“You need to go,” he mouths. No sound. “I’ll draw them off.”
“You can’t walk,” you mouth back.
“I can crawl.”
“Shhh,” you say again, softer this time. The sound barely exists. You lean in, your forehead almost touching his. “No more talking. No more playing hero. Just breathe for me. Through your nose. Slow.”
You ignore his protest. Cut his shirt with the trauma shears from your belt. The gash is deep, ugly, still bleeding. Missed his kidney by an inch. Lucky bastard.
Another scrape outside. Closer. A wet inhale against the glass.
Leon’s hand moves from your wrist to your mouth, covering it. His palm is rough, smells like gunpowder and copper. His eyes are screaming quiet.
You nod against his hand. Then you take his wrist gently, pull his hand from your mouth, and press it to your chest instead. Right over your heart. Feel that? your eyes say. I’m alive. Because of you. So let me keep you alive too.
“Shhh,” you mouth, your own hand coming back to his face. You stroke his temple with your thumb. “I’ve got you. You’re safe with me.”
He shudders again. Bigger this time. His head tips into your touch before he can stop it. Like he can’t help it. Like he needs it.
You work. You don’t have light, but you have muscle memory from the first 24 hours of the outbreak. Bottled water. The last of the antiseptic.
When the antiseptic hits the open wound, he squirms. Can’t help it. His hips twitch, back arching half an inch off the cabinet. A tiny, punched-out sound escapes him before he slams his teeth together.
“Shhh, shhh, shhh,” you’re there instantly, your hand sliding into his hair, nails scratching gently at his scalp. “I know, baby, I know it burns. You’re okay. You’re doing so good. Just keep it down for me.”
Baby. The word slips out. You don’t take it back.
His eyes fly open. Wet. Glassy with pain. And something else — something wrecked and softening. He makes another sound. Not quite a whimper. Not quite a whine. Something broken in the back of his throat that he tries to swallow.
“Hey,” you whisper, so soft it’s just air. You shift, using your body to block him from the window, curling over him. “Look at me. Just at me. Not the wound. Not the door. Me.”
His eyes drag open. Blue, blown-out, and locked on you.
“Good,” you praise, barely audible. Your thumb sweeps under his eye, catching a tear before it can fall. “So good, Leon. You’re doing so good for me. I’m so proud of you.”
He whimpers. Actually whimpers. The sound is tiny and gutted and he hates himself for it — you see it in the way his face twists, shame and pain and relief all tangled up.
“Shhh, no,” you murmur, cupping his face with both hands now. “Don’t you do that. Don’t be ashamed. You hear me? There’s nothing wrong with hurting.” Your thumbs stroke his cheeks. “Let me hear you. Just quiet. Just for me.”
When you have to pack the wound, his whole body tries to squirm away. Instinct. His knees come up, his boots scraping tile. He’s trying to curl in on himself, trying to get away from the pain, and he can’t.
“Leon, hey, shhh, shhh,” you catch his face, force him to look at you. “I need you to bite down for me, okay? Bite down and squeeze my hand. Don’t make a sound. You can do that. I know you can.”
You press your other hand into his, lacing your fingers. He clamps down so hard you think your bones might bruise. You don’t care.
You pack the gauze. His whole body locks, then squirms again, a full-body tremor he can’t control. A soft, wounded noise slips out — high, helpless. He slaps his free hand over his own mouth, eyes squeezing shut in horror.
“Oh, baby,” you breathe, heart breaking. You lean in, pressing your forehead to his, your hands never leaving him. One in his hair, one holding his hand. “It’s okay. It’s okay. You’re okay. Shhh, I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”
He’s shaking. Full-on trembling now. The tough DSO agent, the Raccoon City survivor, whimpering into his own palm while you hold him together.
“It hurts,” he chokes out. So quiet. So small. Like he’s admitting to a crime. “God, it—”
“I know,” you shush him, stroking his hair, your lips brushing his temple with every word. “I know it does, sweetheart. You’re so strong. So strong for me. Almost done. I promise. Almost done. Just keep breathing. Keep being quiet for me.”
He nods frantically against your forehead. Tries. Fails. Another soft, broken sound escapes him when you put pressure on the bandage. He turns his face into your neck, hiding, his breath hot and shaky against your skin.
“Shhh, shhh, that’s it,” you soothe, one hand rubbing slow circles on his back. “Let it out. Just like that. Quiet. Good boy. You’re such a good boy for me, Leon.”
He melts. Actually melts into you. All that tension, all that guilt, all that “I have to be strong” just… gives. His arm comes around your waist, clutching you to him like you’re the only thing keeping him tethered. He’s still trying to be silent, but the little whimpers, the hitched breaths — he can’t stop them anymore.
And you don’t want him to. Not when he’s finally letting you help.
You finish. Tape. Done.
The glass door rattles. The infected is right outside now. You can see its silhouette. Head tilted. Listening.
Leon’s gun is up, aimed at the door. But his other arm drags you into his chest and down behind the counter. His body is a cage around yours — warm, shaking, solid. He buries his face in your hair, and you feel him trembling.
“Shhh,” you breathe into the collar of his vest, one hand sliding up his back in slow, steady circles, the other carding through his hair. “Don’t move. Don’t breathe. Just hold me. I’m right here. You’re safe. I’m not leaving you.”
He makes a sound against you — half sob, half whimper — and bites down on your jacket to muffle it. His shoulders shake.
“Shhh, I know,” you whisper, pressing a kiss to his temple. Just one. Just barely there. “Let it out. I’ve got you. I’ve got you, Leon.”
One second. Five. Ten.
The silhouette drags away. A siren wails three blocks over and the thing shambles toward the noise.
You don’t exhale until the sound is gone. Leon doesn’t either. When he finally does, it’s shaky. Broken. He doesn’t lift his head from your shoulder.
“Stupid,” he breathes. The first real sound he’s made. It’s wrecked. Wet. “You’re so damn stupid. Could’ve died.”
“Shhh,” you say, but this time it’s different. Softer. No coaxing, just comfort. Your hand comes up to cradle the back of his head, holding him to you. “So could you. You were gonna bleed out in a pharmacy, Agent Kennedy.”
He makes a sound. Not quite a laugh. Not quite a sob. “Better me than—”
“Don’t.” You cut him off, fingers tightening in his hair just a little. “Don’t you dare finish that sentence. Not when I just got you quiet.”
His arms tighten. For a second, you think he’s going to argue. But he just presses his face into your neck and whimpers again. Quiet. Exhausted. Safe.
“You shouldn’t have risked it,” he murmurs. Guilt coats every syllable. “I’m not worth—”
“Shhh.” You pull back just enough to see his face. Your thumb swipes under his eye, catching tears. You don’t comment. You just kiss his forehead, soft and slow. “You are to me. So shut up and let me save your life, sweetheart.”
He goes still. Then, slowly, his forehead knocks against yours. His eyes are red-rimmed, ruined, and fixed on you like you hung the moon.
“Thank you,” he mouths.
“How bad is it?” he asks, voice barely there. Finally admitting it.
“Bad enough that you’re not walking out of here alone,” you tell him, your hand sliding down to squeeze his. “So bite down, Kennedy. And when I say move, you move. Quiet. For me. Can you do that?”
He stares at you. Then, impossibly, his mouth quirks. Small. Real. Broken and beautiful.
“Yes, ma’am,” he whispers, and his voice shakes.
And for the first time since the world ended, you think maybe — just maybe — you’re both going to be okay.
