i fucking hate cantaloupe

when all the guys around him were going through puberty, sharing their curated collections of x-rated videos, jabber never really reacted or felt any… arousal. 

for most of his teenage years, he damn near thought he was broken. his freshman year of college, he really started to date around. however, none of his escapades ever went well with every single partner citing the same issue of him unable to get it up.

it wasn't until his last ex started their spiel of why jabber was an unfulfilling partner that he noticed something... felt something.

he was called to a cafe near it's closing hours by his current partner. he found them tucked away in the corner, bouncing their leg rapidly. likely irritated by jabber's late arrival. “yooo, what's up?”

they looked at him, very clearly pissed, “jabber, you realize you're 45 minutes late, right???” the man casually shrugged, he never really cared all too much for this dating stuff. he found it all to be a drag more than anything. 

their patience began to wear thin, “you never pay attention to me!! it's like you're not even interested in me, why do I always have to invite you out first??? matter fact-”

blah blah blah. he couldn't care less about what this one had to say, they would just end up dumping him like the others, “well maybe you're just boring? ya ever think of that? huh?”

the person in front of him found themselves silenced by jabber's words and quickly turned furious, “wow, you're really a fucking dick aren't you?”

at their words, jabber's ears perked up through his long dreads. all of his attention zeroed in on their words. this was the most interesting they'd ever been throughout the entire duration of their (very short) relationship.

“you're a fucking loser jabber, I don't know how I ever saw anything in your sorry ass,”

a shiver ran down jabbers spine, their venom-laced words leaving pinpricks of heat all over his brown skin as they spat insults at him.

“yeah? do ya really mean it?” a slimy grin slipped across jabber’s face as he propped his elbows on the table and dropped his chin into his palms. he leaned forward, clearly intrigued and further causing his soon to be ex to be even more disgusted than they were before. 

they scoffed, “you're a fucking freak, you know that? weird as shit and you can't even get your pathetic dick hard!” their voice rose then, and jabber was quite literally at the edge of his seat. his legs were crossed under the table, inviting a welcome pressure to his crotch. his toes dug into the fabric of his boots and his lower lip found it's place in his eerie grin. jabber bit hard, almost causing his lips to draw blood as he anticipated what they would say next, “yessss… yes! a-and what else? how awful am I???” 

“you know what FUCK YOU jabber! you're nothing but a lowlife self absorbed asshole with no fucking purpose, go fuck yourself!”

and that's all it took for jabber to find himself flooded with sheer ecstasy for the first time in his life. the whites of his eyes overtook his eyeballs as the rolled into his head. his release followed shortly after into the now sticky confines of his boxers. his entire body was twitching from the sheer amount of tension released after all these years. he was a shivering mess, unable to keep his composure in public. jabber keeled over, as he tried to catch his breath. his mind returned to its rightful place in his brain as he focused his eyes back on them.

“thank youuuu~” he drawled out, drunk on his own pleasure. “m-maybe you're not as lame as I thought you were," he managed to get out between twitches.

his ex looked disturbed, but there was a glint of something in their eye. something a bit more sinister. before jabber could say anything else, they got up and left the near empty cafe, leaving jabber in his delirium.

“Jabber.” Your voice is gentle despite your laughing fit earlier. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I’m just having a hard time taking you seriously.”

He wipes the excess toothpaste from his mouth with his towel, then tosses it over his shoulder. “I already told my boys I’m takin’ you out. C’mon! We can get pics and stuff. You can finally let me in them pants, too.”

“Want me to hang up?”

“No.”

“Where are you trying to take me anyway?”

Jabber has already walked into his room and has already began searching for something presentable to wear on your unconfirmed first date. “Anywhere you wanna go. You know I’m good for it.” He quickly pulls on a tank top. “Say the word, and you got it.”

“Take me to Tokyo.”

“Get dressed.”

The phone bangs.

Now, Jabber sucks his teeth. He’s being completely serious, yet you’re laughing in his face. You’re so mean, he loves it. While he would love to rub one out at the thought, he has a mission he’s ready to carry out. Operation: Take y/n on a Date.

So, he plops onto his bed and rests his arm underneath his head. Maybe he was too aggressive. He’ll change his approach!

“Do you have nothing better to do, Jabber?”

“Listen, girl. The only thing on my mind right now is showing you a great time this evening. I was on your page last night, I know you like hibachi. Let me take you out!”

“Oh, so you were stalking me?”

“Girl, your page is public!”

The phone bangs again.

“Feisty, huh?” Jabber drops his phone beside his leg on the bed and lets out a loud sigh. He thought that was pretty good!

If you wanted him to take you to Tokyo, he really would. If you wanted him to cook your own damned hibachi, he’d do that too— anything to make you smile and all that.

Jabber startles when his roommate, Zanka, knocks on his doorframe. “What?”

“You were mewling like a dying cow, so I thought I’d check on you.” He shrugs, tucking his hands into the pockets of his pants. “So? Where you taking y/n tonight?”

“Between your preppy ass and I—“

“You know, I can tell you need my help. Are you sure you want to start with me?” Zanka threatens to place his headphones over his ears, and that’s enough for Jabber to rise to his feet and wave his hands in disapproval. “Talk.”

Jabber pushes his hair back, another loud sigh leaving his mouth. “I ain’t ask her out yet! I said I did, and I didn’t.”

“Oh-ho! You lying bastard.”

“Oh-ho! You preppy bitch. Help me.” Jabber dramatically drops to the floor. His hair is sprawled around him in a messy sea of black. “I’m desperate.”

“Well, have you tried toning your voice down? What about speaking slower, lowering your tone some? Chicks dig it.”

Jabber looks up at his roommate with a scowl, “Why you single then?”

“I- because!” Zanka places his headphones over his ears. “Some people are focused on their studies, Dreads.”

Jabber flips the bird as Zanka walks away, probably into his room of the suite. He could have a point, though. Jabber is loud, and that’s good for partying. Zanka is much more reserved and everyone swoons for him. Maybe he’ll give it a try…

“Hello—? Oh, it’s you. Hi, Jabber.”

“Hey, y/n.” Jabber clears his throat. Low and slow, low and slow. “Sorry ‘bout blowin’ your eardrum out earlier.”

It’s quiet for a moment or two.

“No worries.”

“Really—? Ah— great. That’s good. So, I want to ask you again…properly.” Jabber nods to himself, even patting his own shoulder in encouragement. “Do you have any plans? For tonight?”

There’s your laugh again. It’s not patronizing or insulting in the least bit. It’s softer, almost genuine? He must be doing something right!

“No, Jabber. I don’t have plans for tonight.”

“Me neither.” Jabber lets out a breath of air he didn’t know he was holding. His fingers fidget with the belt loop of his jeans as he speaks, “It’s a shame a girl as beautiful as you ain’t got nowhere to be tonight. I was hopin’ I could change that, if that’s aight with you.”

“Aww.” You chime, “Someone’s been talking to Zanka.”

Damn, is it that obvious?

“A brotha needed help from his brotha.” Jabber shrugs. “What do you think? I would, uh, love if you let me treat you to a nice dinner.”

“That would be nice.”

Hook, line, and sinker—

“How many other girls did you ask out today?”

His slit eyebrows raise in surprise. “None?” He wouldn’t do that, not to you. Nobody else has peaked his interest at all!

“You sound unsure.”

“Why would I go ‘round asking everyone to be my Valentine? I ain’t six no more. You the only one I’m chasin’. Little Jabber has been out of the game for a minute now.”

You scoff, “Uh-huh. Jabber, I’m not going to be one of your many booty calls. Stop playing on my phone.”

Jabber pockets his phone, his hand coming up to slap the surface of his forehead. “Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

He rolls onto his front, fingers gliding across the hardwood underneath him. The problem is that you think he’s still a playboy, isn’t it? Well, he’s not and he’s turned over a new leaf! He doesn’t do meaningless one night stands anymore. They’re not fun anymore, and the only person on his mind is you— it’s been this way for the past few months.

Okay, he may have pushed up on you a bit too hard in the dining hall the first few attempts but he’s sorry! He didn’t mean to come off assertive or like that cockiest man alive…he was just thinking with his cock.

Truth is, Jabber has a mean crush on you. Usually, your rejections to his advances would turn him on but he feels low right now. So, this is true rejection. Oh, this sucks!

Jabber fishes his phone out of his pocket again and calls you once more. He’ll try one last time.

“Jabber—“

“Y/n, please! I hung my hoe gloves a while ago. I’m serious ‘bout taking you out!”

“Jabber, you really want me to believe you’re done sleeping around?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m not stupid, Jabber. You’re just trying to get your rocks off for the night. I don’t blame you, but leave me out of the equation.”

Jabber presses his forehead to the floor, a literal whine leaving his mouth. “No matter what I do, you always gon’ tell me no. I tried different approaches and I even begged. How you gon’ judge me for my past, mama? That ain’t fair.”

“Are you…frowning?”

“Is this because I’m Black?” Jabber sighs. “You won’t go out with me because I’m Black, right?”

“You know that’s not why.”

Jabber whines again. He doesn’t care who hears or if you think it’s pathetic. His crush on you overrides any judgement he can ever receive!

“You’re such a baby, Jabber.”

“I’m tryna be your baby.” Jabber turns onto his side, “Let me take you out, mommy. Just for tonight. If you like it, you like it. If you don’t, you don’t.”

After a soft sigh and lots of thought, you finally answer him. “Fine, but I will be choosing the venue. I’ll be ready by five.”

Jabber picks his head up, a wide grin pulls at his lips. “Yeah? Mean it?”

“I’ll be ready by four if you call me mommy again.”

“Get sexy for me, mommy. I’ll see you by four.”

Jabber is the one who hangs up this time. He jumps up in triumph. He brings his hands together in a loud clap, “Fuck yeah! I’m going on a date with y/n! I’m going on a date with y/n!”

Then, there’s another knock at his doorframe.

“I’m proud of you, momma’s boy!”

Shit, Zanka heard that?

——————

Happy V-Day! I didn’t know how to write this since I’ve only ever been on one Valentine’s date, but I think this Jabber is so cute!

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.

Let Him Go, Give Him Back - @monomyth-scribbles = I think the dynamic of the reader an Leon in this is so good, it’s so thoughtful but so cute

FATHERHOOD ANXIETY - @rednnedy = I really like whenever you get to see the vulnerable side of Leon and this fic does it so well, it’s adorable :’)

touch starved partner - @pinkfairycake = THIS IS SO CUTE it’s so fluffy and I love how he’s so willing to understand and reassure

restless sleepers - @dollyzdaydreamz = This fic is so adorable but i also love the dynamic in it. Also the concept of him disliking a sleep divorce is such a cure headcanon omg

Wedding Ring - @topsytervy = This is best described as short and sweet, especially when you see in the ending of re9 that he puts his ring back on </3

the family protection act - @leonarchive = Adding this even after I posted the rest of these because this concept is just so cool, I’m so intrigued by the mystery

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ✧ yours truly, andrea ✧ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

The door slams shut harder than it needs to and Leon’s already moving before it’s closed.

Checking Windows.

Scanning Corners.

Gun Raised.

Still not quite sure whether this shit show has put an end to its awful waltz, Leon pauses and exhales through his nose.

“Clear,” he mutters, more as a confirmation for himself than for you.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

You don’t answer. You’re watching the way his shoulders tighten when he lowers the gun. The way his left hand presses—just briefly, a minute detail—against his side.

Ah, there it is. How come you didn’t see this before?

“Sit down.”

He doesn’t even have to look at you before he dismisses you with his hand. “I’m good.”

Suddenly the plain wooden wall looked interesting.

“Right,” you say flatly, “That’s why you’re bleeding all over someone else’s floor.”

That gets your snark chuckle and a glare. He looks exhausted, yet awake at the heart at the same time.

“I’m fin…” He starts to argue momentarily, his pride seeping through the cracks but then folds under pressure, succumbing to his body’s response.

And you don’t do anything to hide the victory smug off your face.

He comes to a stop and sits down, but resists all at the same time. He is a man of habit after all. Gotta’ make things hard.

To Leon, stopping means thinking. Thinking means feelings. Feeling means letting everything he’s holding underneath, in a little bottle, float back to the surface. That’s why he hates stopping. Even at home, because it’s either the motorcycle needs repair, or the kitchen cabinets sound squeaky, or even better, the city grass on the sidewalks needs mowing, obviously, his next door neighbour doesn’t exactly like him. So it isn’t breaking news that Silence and Leon don’t get along, though they’ve grown accustomed to each other’s presence.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

Then there’s you.

Silence and you get along as if you were two lovers in the middle of a ballroom. Never fighting for dominance but in a say. You find comfort in the stillness because you observe everything, you imagine in the quietness, you map out regions in the loudness of harrowing silence. From the outside you seem like an outgoing individual, sure, but there’s more to you than that. You prefer your deafening quiet like Leon prefers his blender on at 4:00 in the morning. So the only person that only saw this side of you, was Leon. Afterall, long missions with nukes detonating and grenades being thrown, with just one person as your mission partner may do that to you.

“Sit still, Leon.” His name rolls off your tongue like second nature and so he finally does sit still. Not gracefully nor comfortably.

He lowers himself into the chair like a child that’s been told off by their parents. You can see the way his mind is in constant battle with his body. Not many can catch that, but you did. You weren’t exactly his weakness…at least that’s what he tells himself. Sure, he may argue with you on certain topics, but you always get the last say with him and that’s clear as day.

His shoulders remain tense, spine rigid, like even resting is something he doesn’t fully allow himself to do (except for when he drinks, of course). You can see just how much he wishes he had a bottle of whisky on the flimsy table next to him to numb the pain. It wasn’t a secret that he had a drinking problem, because in this line of work you’re lucky as it is to get out alive, so it’s transactionary to come out with an unhealthy coping mechanism.

Yours was Leon.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

The safehouse is poorly stocked. A half-empty med kit sits on a scratched wooden table off to the side. The contents disorganized like someone else had used it in a hurry before abandoning the place. Gauze, antiseptic, and a pair of dull scissors.

‘No, fuck! It’s not enough. He’s bleeding through like a pig.’

But it’s what you have and right now, he’s what matters.

So when you kneel in front of him, the shift in perspective changes something.

Leon has presence, I mean he always has. Sure when he stands, he feels larger, harder to touch— reach, like there’s this distance that’s been programmed into him.

You’re not a sicko or anything, at least you don’t think so…But gosh, like this? Fuck.

Injured? Sitting? Forced into that stillness?

He looks and feels human. Probably more exposed and vulnerable than he realizes.

Earlier, you had forced him to take off his protective gear. Now it seems that his shirt is soaked through where the blood has spread, the dark fabric clinging to his skin. The abs and chest are a bit more prominent.

“Well fuck me. There’s not enough. I thought I could use the rest to get myself drunk.” Leon’s definition of a joke and chuckle pulls you out of your quiet observations.

“Drink—? What? That’s an antiseptic. The things’ like 80% alcohol.” You scrunch your nose and look up at him in annoyance.

“Exactly. And whisky's 100%.” He snorts.

Silence.

“Okay, It was a joke,” he sighs. “Relax, will you?”

“Relax?” You shake your head. “ I physically can’t with you—just take your shirt off.”

“Eager aren’t we?”

Your stomach flips so violently it actually irritates you.

“Leon.”

“There she is,” he murmurs under his breath, amused.

That’s the worst part, he absolutely has no idea what he’s doing to you.

Your gaze flickers to his lips.

And that’s the second mistake you make. Because, now, you notice things you shouldn’t.

The split in his lower lip from earlier and the way he wets it absentmindedly while thinking.

Get it together.

He enjoys this frequent banter with you. It helps him stay grounded throughout missions without wallowing in self pity.

Quickly, with another smug grin, he grabs the hem of his shirt and pulls it over his head.

The movement is rougher than it should be and the fabric drags across the wound and his jaw tightens instantly, a sharp breath slipping through his teeth before he can stop it.

Your expression drops immediately.

“Careful.”

“Careful’s my middle name.”

“Evidently so.”

You reach forward before thinking, fingers brushing briefly against his wrist to help pull the fabric free and that tiny bit of contact nearly ruins you.

Which is ridiculous.

Actually ridiculous.

So Ridiculous.

And he doesn’t notice. Of course he doesn’t.

Dumbass.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

Leon’s completely unaware, too distracted by the pain and exhaustion to catch the way your breathing changes slightly whenever he gets too close.

Too distracted to notice the way your eyes linger for half a second too long.

Too distracted to realize that somewhere between near-death missions, terrible safehouse coffee, and late-night conversations in military trucks—

you’ve started falling for him.

Fuck, and that realization terrifies you more than any of the zombies that’s chased you tonight.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

Up close, the room feels smaller.

Your knees press against the worn floorboards. His presence fills the space in front of you, heat radiating off him despite the cold dampness clinging to his skin. The air smells faintly metallic—blood—and something sharper from the antiseptic you open.

Your hands are steady.

They have to be.

Because his body isn’t.

Every time you touch the wound, there’s a reaction and it’s benign, but it’s there. The way his abdomen tightens every time you place a finger next to his open skin, or when his breathing shifts, a small exhale he tries to hide.

“Sorry. Just a little bit longer.” You sympathize, frowning slightly and his reactions. The way his forehead scrunches, the way his crows feets’ evident.

You look away immediately, pulse pounding hard enough to annoy you.

Get it together.

Seriously.

He’s Leon Kennedy.

Not some stupid schoolgirl crush.

Not someone you can have and he’s definitely not someone you should want.

Meanwhile, Leon just glances down at the bandage in your hands and says:

“You planning on finishing that anytime this century?”

Completely oblivious, and somehow that makes it hurt worse.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

You finish taping the bandage down carefully before finally pulling your hands away from him.

“There,” you mutter. “Try not to get stabbed again for at least twenty-four hours.”

Leon huffs a tired laugh.

“You know me…no promises.”

You stand too quickly, needing the distance before your thoughts start betraying you again and showing on your face. Trying to pace yourself, your fingers go to thin metal adorning your neck to start fiddling with it.

“Hey.” His voice cuts through the awkward silence and you pause.

“Thanks,” he says quietly, your name following. It’s so simple and so honest and it’s the kind of the things he probably doesn’t realize means more coming from him.

“Yeah, well,” you murmur, rolling your eyes, “someone has to keep you alive.”

Leon smirks faintly.

“Guess I owe you one.”

“Ha, you owe me several.” That earns you a real laugh out of him.

“Don’t make me laugh. Shit’ hurts.” He sighs, a soft smile on his face forming.

And that- that stupid and effortless smile hits somewhere dangerously soft inside your chest, like Cupid himself took careful aim and finally landed the shot.

If the previous two weeks were spent in what you thought were an awkward tension, then they pale in comparison to the absolute horror you have been through over the past days.

Leon has not spoken to you once. And even worse, he has begun to actively avoid you to the point you're certain the other employees have noticed too. 

It’s not like you have been seeking him out either—staying holed up in your office all day and even having your lunch break at your desk. It's the most embarrassingly obvious office drama HQ has had in a while, and you’re just thankful no nosey coworker has asked you questions about it yet. 

The worst part, however, is the soul crushing guilt that you feel every time you remember the hurt expression on his face. You try to ignore it all even if every minute feels like it's harder to breathe. You only hope that even if you don't speak to him, at least not for now, that things will ultimately work out.

You know you will try to make amends eventually, because staying in this emotionally draining limbo is unsurvivable. But you're not strong enough to face him yet. You’re scared of breaking down and laying it all out if you do. For now, you just hope he doesn't hate you.

The tense mutual avoidance, however, is forcibly removed when you enter the Friday meeting late—due to a mini emotional breakdown you had in your office—and find that the single available seat is the one next to Leon. The thing is, everyone is so accustomed to seeing you as a duo, it's become a habit for the other DSO coworkers to naturally leave the seat on Kennedy’s left side unoccupied.

You make your way to the chair with a churning stomach, noticing the way he’s keeping his head intentionally turned away in the direction of the projector screen. 

Sitting down, you mouth a quick ‘sorry’ to the SSAs in charge of the meeting, including Valerie who gives you a firm nod. You still resent her a little for talking to Leon without your explicit permission. But then again, everyone treated you like you were an extension of him—an accessory, even. So the fact she actually considered you for a position outside of HQ, means that she believes in your skills enough she doesn't think your performance is tied to him, and that's refreshing for once.

The lights dim to better project a slideshow of images relating to virus lab test results. You sink back into your chair, making a conscious effort to keep your limbs wound tight so as not to accidentally touch him.

From your peripheral vision, you see Leon’s arm moving ever so slightly on the table from the motion of taking notes, clearly concentrated on the job while you lose your mind at the mere sight of him.

If you could freeze the room right now, you’d lean in just to smell him better—and maybe kiss his cheek—just to bask in the proximity you will lose when you eventually move to New York if you’re selected.

Lost in thought and not listening to a single word from the meeting, your breath hitches when a few minutes later you see his arm slide silently across the table towards you. There's a piece of paper under his fingertips that he quietly slips your way.

When he lifts his hand, your heart stutters to find a torn page of the small notepad, with a drawing of a grumpy Binx.

He doesn't look at you, he doesn't explain anything, he just hands you a doodle of your fucking cat, and that instantly breaks you. The tears you have fought time and time again not to spill in front of him, pool at the rim of your eyes, right there, in the middle of the meeting.

Leon, whose heart is pounding as he waits for your reaction to the childish act of truce, is growing increasingly nervous when you remain completely still.

At first, he had every intention to avoid you until he had enough of a hold on his feelings to finally attempt to talk things out with you. But every single day has been a fight with himself not to approach you.

You looked more tired than ever, with dark under eyes that match his own despite your attempts of hiding them with concealer. Your entire demeanor was solemn and defeated whenever he caught a rare glimpse of you. And today, you sit beside him like you’re scared he’ll snap again if you breathe too loud, and something about that made his stomach twist.

Your words hurt, they really did, and they hit deep right where he feels the most insecure about being a bad omen in your life. But at the same time, he couldn't fault you for wanting something of your own. You’re young, fresh into your career, and he’s a trauma-ridden nuisance that will only keep you down in the bottomless pit of pain that is this job.

He was happy to learn your new potential position will have you mostly working at an office, meaning less danger and distress—something he has hoped for you from the start.

Despite the soul tearing pain he feels at the thought of you leaving, he has come to the conclusion that this would be for the best. You will be freed of him, and he will eventually move on from you. Hopefully. 

So, as you sat beside him, making every effort to make yourself as small as a mouse, he let his heart take the lead as he doodled that stupid sketch of a grouchy Binx, praying it will make you smile. If you're leaving him soon, then he will be sure to spend every minute he has left with you making you happy.

He sits there anxiously waiting, and as he begins to lose hope for a positive response from you, he hears you sniffle. Just once, and his blood runs cold.

Leon turns his head slowly, pretending to check his watch so as not to gather the attention of coworkers, since he already knows they have taken note of the tension between you both. And then he lifts his gaze and he sees you—beautiful, angelic, perfect you. With teary eyes and your bottom lip bit tightly into your mouth, no doubt to stop yourself from making a sound.

It takes the restraint of every single cell in his body not to instantly grab your face and crash his lips onto yours, and to beg you for forgiveness as he kisses you senseless. He wonders if he would have let that reckless side of him act out if you weren't in a room full of people in suits.

You’re still holding on to the sobs that threaten to leave your body, the task becoming even harder when you see the way his face falls at the sight of your tears. But in the midst of your sentimental collapse, you still worry he will think you're crying because he hurt you.

No. You’re crying because he's everything, and you don't know what you ever did to deserve him.

Without thinking twice, you reach a hand under the table and place it on his thigh, making him tense up with wide eyes, before he slowly relaxes under your touch and places his own hand over yours. He watches you for a moment, taking in a shaky breath, before he reluctantly turns his head back towards the slideshow so as not to draw attention.

The two of you stay like that, his palm keeping yours on his leg, doing your best to breathe steadily despite your pounding hearts, all while the meeting continues around you. 

Only when the projector is turned off and the lights are flicked back on do you retreat your hand, suddenly feeling exposed under the harsh white radiance of the overhead LEDs. Thankfully, you were able to somehow blink away the fat tears that had threatened to fall moments ago, discreetly wiping from the corners of your eyes the remnant beads.

The assembly is adjourned with the loud scrapes of chairs, all attendees standing to gather their things and leave, except you both. Leon turns to you, his eyes searching your face as he leans closer, his voice a soft whisper. 

“Listen, kid, I—”

He’s cut off by a voice calling his name belonging to the SAC standing by the door—a middle aged man with a constantly stern face.

“Kennedy, there's something I’d like your input on. Join me in my office if you're free.”

Leon begrudgingly nods, standing from his chair even as every part of him wishes to stay by your side. “I’ll be right there,” he answers professionally.

Unfortunately, he knows that the Special Agent in Charge wouldn't ask for ‘his input’ if it wasn't important. So, he is forced to put duty first yet again—something he has grown tired of doing after seventeen years of trauma inducing labor.

As he looks down at you, still sitting there quietly, not a single protest leaving your lips, all he can think to himself is ‘fuck this job.’ 

“We’ll talk later, I promise…” he murmurs as he pushes in his chair against the table. “You take care, okay?”

“Okay,” you nod, voice small, fingers clutching the doodled piece of paper.

Leon is seething as he walks out of the office of the senior agent. Not because of the classified conversation they just shared, but because it's nearly 7 p.m. and most of HQ has been deserted.

The worst part is you texted him telling him you’ll wait, because you're perfect, but he had to tell you the truth: that he unfortunately has plans for the night. 

So now, as he walks to his car in the DSO parking garage, he’s questioning every life choice he’s ever made as he mentally prepares for his third date with Lyla. Something he was looking forward to less than a week ago, he now dreads as it falls during the worst possible timing ever.

If this had been a first date, he thinks he would have come up with a bullshit excuse and cancelled without a second thought. But the way the previous date with the accountant went meant they had formed a bit of a bond, and he would feel like an absolute ass canceling last minute on her. Though he’s still very tempted.

Pinching the bridge of his nose then dragging his palm roughly down his face, Leon settles behind the wheel. He groans in exasperation before turning on the ignition, the engine booming in the silent garage as it comes to life.

You know he’s on a date.

There’s no other explanation for his text about 'previously arranged plans’ that makes sense. Especially after what happened at the meeting. You know him—your Leon—and he would've found time to talk to you unless it was something he'd be forced to attend.

You’re pacing your tiny kitchen, your mind racing with conflicting thoughts of happiness at the tenderness he showed you earlier, and ugly, consuming jealousy over his date.

So you do what any sane person does: you stalk the poor, unsuspecting woman on social media.

Finding her was easier than counting to three, her Instagram being public, and having Claire as a friend in common. The sight of her pretty face and perfect body that make every random post look like a professional photoshoot infuriates you. She is regrettably gorgeous, and the thought of Leon being attracted to her—which you wouldn't even fault him for—fills you with despairing anguish.

You curl up on your couch, already starting to retreat back into that dark, insecure state that makes you question your very self worth. But then, you remember his earlier made promise, and suddenly, you're filled with a newly born determination.

If this has been any other day, you would have wallowed in your sorrows and cried yourself to sleep… But not today. Not after everything.

He has made you a promise and you are not letting it slide unfulfilled.

Tonight’s date is taking place at Lyla’s home—a clear indicator of where things might go after her and Leon finish eating the gourmet takeout he brought.

As always, the conversation is as easy as ever as they set down their forks, chatting casually despite Leon’s only half present mind. He helps his date clear the table and put the dishes away when they're done, and she turns to him with a small smirk.

“So… How about a movie?” She takes his hand in hers, guiding him to her sofa.

His discomfort continues to slowly rise as he tries to push through. This was the plan ever since that mission when his plaguing feelings suddenly rained down on him—he was supposed to get laid and get over it.

Now, he has the chance to do exactly that and more, since Lyla also happens to be a great woman who he already gets along with well. So why is it that when she seductively sits on his lap and begins to kiss his neck—movie long forgotten—he isn't able to get hard? Again?

Christ, is he seriously that hopeless for you?

A hot woman is sitting on him, touching him, whispering sweet nothings into his ear, and his dick doesn't even so much as twitch. Not only does he feel uncomfortable, but now there's embarrassment creeping into him. He starts thinking of an excuse. Maybe he can say he hasn't slept, or that some new meds have lowered his libido. Something—anything—to not break the poor woman’s heart and to preserve his male ego.

And then, as if on cue from the heavens, his work phone rings, and he’s already hoping for an urgent call, or he will pretend it is one anyway and lie like a coward.

Except he doesn't have to lie, it is an urgent call. Well, to him at least, because the caller is none other than you, your face appearing on the screen with that smile he would kill for.

“Sorry, I have to take this,” he gives the tall woman an apologetic smile that she accepts by moving off his lap.

He leaps straight to the balcony, looking like he just got a call from the damn president himself, when he quickly answers, pressing the device to his ear with a trembling breath.

“Hey,” he murmurs, feigning casualness that's not there.

You stay silent for a while, unsure of what to say now that he has picked up. But then, you let yourself listen to his soft breathing through the phone, and you slowly relax into a more vulnerable state.

“Leon…” 

He bites back a groan at your soft whisper, his free hand clenching and unclenching on the metal railing.

“Yes, kiddo.”

“I… I need to see you.”

His breath audibly hitches, every vein in his body running hot. He doesn't even know if the reason you want to see him is good or bad, he just knows you need him and he’ll be damned if he ever disappoints you again.

“I’ll be there in ten.”

Next chapter coming soon.