Re2! Leon S. Kennedy × Reader
꒰`'summary: Leon comforts you when, during your intimacy with him, you remember something you would rather forget and never remember again.
ミ`note: agnst, mention of sexual harassment (without a detailed description), mentioning close contact in an intimate way, consolation, fluffy(?), you're in a relationship with him, I did not specify the gender of the reader.
!¡ 《This is my first work. I've never written anything before, and English is not my native language, so I'm writing this through a translator. Please be understanding. I hope the translator didn't distort my words. I've only recently downloaded this platform for the first time, so my post design may not be as visually appealing as it could be. However, I hope you enjoy it. If there are any unclear or incorrect descriptions, or if Leon's behavior is not canon, I'm open to criticism and would appreciate your feedback》 ¡! ♡
And there it is. A viscous, cold, sticky feeling of guilt and fear envelops your entire body as Leon's hand moves from your face to your body.
Leon is a wonderful guy. He is caring, sensitive, and attentive. He notices the small details in your behavior and preferences, knows what things you like, and knows that you like to open the window at night while wrapping yourself in a blanket. He always prioritizes your comfort. He remembers the sounds that annoy you and the amount of people and information surrounding you.
Leon has been in your life for a long time, and you can't imagine your life without him. The feelings you have for each other can be described as a connection of souls. He loves you. And you undoubtedly love him too. However, every time it comes to physical intimacy, it becomes unbearable for you. This time was no exception.
The dim, warm light of the nightlight illuminates part of Leon's face and outlines his silhouette above you. You can feel his rapid heartbeat as your hand rests on his neck, keeping him close. His skin is hot, contrasting with your cold fingers. Your lips are pressed against each other. Your breaths are in unison. Your rapid and heated breaths meet his. Despite your closeness and the desire you feel for him, the stream of thoughts and memories in your head never stops. "We've already discussed this. Everything will be fine," you tell yourself as his lips descend and kiss the delicate skin of your neck. However, your fingers on the other hand clench, and your nails dig into your palm, leaving half-moon-shaped marks.
Your body freezes on its own. You can't control the panic and fear that consume your entire being. You're just lying there. On one side of your mind, you're enjoying what's happening. Your loved one is close to you. You're close to each other. You can feel his warmth, and you know that he's comfortable and trusts you. But on the other side of your mind, deeper within you, you're frozen in your fears and memories. Leon's touch, his breath, and his presence fade into the background. It's as if you're deep underwater. So you don't immediately react to Leon's words when he's now hovering over you instead of looking down at you as he kisses you. You don't immediately feel his soft fingers wiping away a couple of tears that slowly slide down your cheek, leaving a wet trail. How did you miss them? Again.
"Hey, lovely," you're finally starting to make out the words and sounds around you. "Come back to me. Look at me." Leon whispers. His voice is soft and so full of care that it makes my heart ache. Heavenly eyes, clouded by desire and another level of love a few moments ago, are now running over your face with anxiety and tenderness. Only when your eyes meet and he sees the realization that you are here again, not in your head, does Leon lower himself to the side, resting on his elbow. With his other hand, he slowly strokes your shoulder, moving up to your head and tucking your hair behind your ear with tenderness. After a moment, you begin to tremble. His warm hands and gentle touch bring you back to reality. Your lips form a line on their own, and your eyes fill with moisture. You desperately try to even out your breathing, but the echoes of what you've been through prevent you from doing so, so you exhale loudly and shakily through your nose.
"Again...Fuck...I've ruined everything again," you whisper with quick and shallow breaths, covering your face with trembling, cold fingers. You hate these feelings, just as you hate the fact that they're interfering with your happiness with Leon.
"Honey," the guy's voice carries all the worries and pain he's feeling about your condition. He lies down and pulls you into his arms with a confident move. His hands wrap around you in a warm embrace. The kind that instills a sense of trust and security. Leon places a gentle kiss on the top of your head as he holds you against his chest. His palm replaces his lips, and he gently strokes your hair, allowing you to regain your composure.
"You haven't ruined anything," his calm and quiet voice continues to soothe you. "It's me. And I'm here. Give yourself some time."
Your hands leave your face, and now you're desperately clutching the fabric of his shirt. You need to feel that he's close. It's Leon. It's him. You're safe. Your thoughts race one after another, and you can't latch onto just one to calm the anxiety and throbbing in your head. Despite the fact that you're aware of the embrace of your loved one, it becomes too overwhelming. The feeling of someone else's hands, the touch of the past, which doesn't let go but pulls you back. The unwanted pressure and the false sense of someone's presence that shouldn't be there, it's suffocating. You feel a new stage of panic coming with this wave of memories. Too little oxygen.
Leon notices your shoulders starting to rise more than usual, even through the fabric of the clothes separating you, he can feel your heart starting to beat even faster. He pulls back slightly, wanting to look at you.
"I... I can't," you say as loudly as you can, but all that comes out is a hoarse whisper. You pull away from his arms and sit down on the edge of the bed. A wave of goosebumps runs through your body. It's hard to tell if it's from the stress or the contrast between the room temperature and Leon's warm embrace. "I can't," you repeat desperately. Your voice is trembling. "Those touches, those hands. I remember everything, and it won't stop. I can't stop feeling them on me. I don't want to. I feel so dirty," the words rush out of you in a rapid stream. You clench and hug yourself, wanting to feel the reality of what's happening instead of the dark and sticky ghosts of the past. Leon's large palm covers yours. It feels so familiar. It's slightly rough from constant training and exertion, but it's also gentle in its own way. You know and remember every callus and scratch on it. The way he touches you with such tenderness and ease, as if you were the most fragile and precious thing in the world, is impossible to forget or confuse. You can hear him sitting down next to you. The bed sinks and creaks under the weight of your two bodies. Your eyes feel heavy, and you can't lift them or look at him. You feel ashamed. Your head is filled with white noise and a sense of unease that turns into a throbbing sensation. His fingers gently squeeze your palm as you dig your nails into your skin, hugging yourself. His other hand hesitantly touches the back of your shoulder blades, tracing their outline before resting fully on your spine, gently moving across your back in circular motions. Leon remains silent. You can't see, but you can feel his eyes fixed on you, observing every detail and change in your behavior. He doesn't demand anything, but neither does he speak. He simply shows that he's there, that he's with you. The guy understands that first comes the realization, and then comes the conversation.
After a couple of minutes of silence, when your shoulders have slumped and your deep, frequent breaths have stopped, which means that your breathing has returned to normal, Leon sits down behind you. You can feel the warmth of his skin and the presence of his body. With a single motion, he brushes your hair off your back to avoid pressing it down and spreads his arms. You don't need an invitation; you understand what he's doing without words. Your back is pressed against his solid chest. You rest your head on his shoulder and close your eyes, allowing him to wrap his strong arms around you again.
"I'm sorry..." As soon as you open your mouth, he presses his lips firmly against the top of your head and hisses at you to be quiet.
"(Name), I know what you're trying to say," he begins. His voice is confident and firm, but filled with warmth and sincerity. "There's nothing wrong with not being ready. I won't love you less, I won't leave, and it's not your fault. My love for you won't diminish if I don't express it in this way. We'll find other ways to create a comfortable and safe environment for you, and we'll work it out in any case. I'm here for you, no matter what." - Leon speaks slowly, drawing out the words in his velvety voice. He traces his fingertips over your skin, drawing patterns, knowing it will soothe you.
You'll sit like this for a long time, his movements won't stop, and his voice won't fall silent until he's sure you're okay. Leon won't forget about your injury. Of course not. This isn't your last conversation. But right now, he's just taking a deep breath, putting all the sadness he feels from seeing you struggling with this trauma into that breath, and making sure you're breathing evenly and can sleep peacefully, and tomorrow or some other day, when you're ready, he'll be there to take your hand and guide you out of this anxiety.
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