Rosah

Masterlist:

Headcanons:

Carlos Oliveira relationship headcanons

Chris Redfield relationship headcanons

Leon Kennedy relationship headcanons

Leon Kennedy headcanons part 2 (period headcanons)

Drabbles:

Unnecessary backflip (Leon)

Fics:

Their different styles of being protective (Chris, Leon, and Carlos)

More explicitly, I'll write anything other than non-con, romantised gore, incest (pseudo or not), zoophilla, underage characters, romantised abusive relationships, or certain kinks, like piss, scat, ageplay, or emotophillia. I'm open to pretty much anything else, and will say if I decide I'm not ♡

Tags

Please don't repost or translate my stories on any other platforms. Also don't feed my writing to AI. I really don't like AI 😭

#rosahgrace - all my posts

#rosah's headcanons - my headcanons for all characters

#rosah's fics - my fics for all characters

● He is completely unfazed. If you're still at the start of your relationship and you're worried about telling him, he’ll completely put you at ease the second he notices you're uncomfortable. He'd say something like, "Hey, you don't have to hide anything from me. I've got you. Tell me what you need, and I'll go grab it." After everything he’s seen and experienced, biological functions do not make him squeamish in the slightest. If you ask him to pick up specific supplies, he doesn't hesitate.

● If you're having cramps, he immediately has you ibuprofen, a hot water bottle, and a banana because he read that the magnesium and potassium ease cramps. He also is naturally warm, and he'll use that to your advantage. If you're dealing with the cramps, he'll just hold you and place his warm hand directly on your lower stomach.

● He'd be there for anything you want. If you want space, he'll give you space. If you want to be close, he'll be close. If you have cravings, he'll get them for you. If you just want to lie in bed all day and ignore the world, he’ll lock the front door, turn off his phone, and slide right in next to you. He is incredibly intuitive when it comes to reading your energy. He doesn't need you to explain why you're frustrated or why you suddenly feel like crying, he just adapts to whatever version of him you need in that exact moment.

● He finds a different kind of closeness in just being your comfort. If you aren't feeling up for anything intense, he genuinely doesn't mind. He loves the intimacy of just holding you close. He’ll pull you flush against him in bed, letting you bury your face in his neck while he breathes you in, completely content to just exist in that quiet, shared space.

● If you get snappy or irritable, he doesn't snap back. He just gives a small, knowing smirk, kisses the top of your head, and says, "Rough day? Let me go make you some tea." He has zero ego when it comes to something you can't control.

● If the hormonal shifts make you suddenly self conscious or emotional, he doesn't treat it like an inconvenience. If you're upset over something small, he won't ask why or tell you that it's only a small thing. He just holds you through it.

● Hypervigilance means Leon is highly sensitive to bright lights and sharp noises when he's overwhelmed. He assumes you feel the same way when you're on your period and under stress. He will go through the house turning off harsh lighting, drawing the blinds, and switching on dim lamps or amber nightlights to create a soothing environment.

● He knows that not every period is the same. Sometimes you have little appetite, sometimes you have an appetite bigger than what you can physically fit in your stomach, and he doesn't bat an eye. He's happy to either make you some buttered crackers with fruit on the side or a 3 course meal. As long as you're eating something, he doesn't care what he has to make.

● He's very tactical and observant. He notices the specific position of your neck when you have a hormonal headache and your posture when you have a back or stomach ache. He usually knows what you need without you needing to say it.

● He utilises heavy pressure therapy for physical relief. Instead of just a light touch, Leon understands the mechanics of deep tissue aches from his own recovery routines. If you experience lower back tension or your normal cramps, he uses his physical strength. He will have you lean against him or lie down while he uses the palms of his hands to apply heavy, grounding pressure to the ache. His hands are naturally warm, like a weighted heating pad.

● He respects your boundaries. If you want to be left alone, he won't bug you. He deeply understands the need to isolate and recharge in dark silence. He's been there many times. He'll stay quiet, close doors softly, turn the movie he's watching in the living room down even though it's a whole floor away from you. But he'll be there immediately if you do end up needing something.

● For a man who carries an immense amount of survival guilt and trauma, being able to successfully protect your peace and make you feel safe is incredibly grounding for him. When you let your guard completely down, complain about the pain, or fall asleep dead weight against his chest, it fulfills his deepest instinct to protect.

● Leon doesn’t do anything halfway. Once the worst of the physical toll has passed and you are just tired, he stays in full caretaking mode. He will slowly wrap you into a fresh set of his own clothes, smooth the hair back from your face with a steady, lingering touch, and press a warm kiss right to your forehead.

● He uses his physical size to anchor your restlessness. When the aches make it impossible to find a comfortable position and you're tossing and turning at night, he will shift his weight to help you settle. He’ll drape a heavy arm or leg over you, securing you gently but firmly against him.

● He keeps your favourite low-effort movies or series on. He won't suggest a heavy, plot-twisted movie when you don't want it. Instead, he’ll silently pull up your comfort shows, a stupid comedy, or a slow paced documentary you’ve already seen a hundred times. He doesn't need to discuss the plot with you. He’s perfectly content to just sit there with you and let the low noise fill the room.

● He doesn't make a big deal out of it, but every time he walks past you, he checks your glass to see if you've drank any of the water he gave you. You’ll find a cold glass of water, some ice, or a light snack like toast or fruit constantly refreshed on the side table within arm's reach. He does it so casually that you don't even have to interrupt your rest to ask for a refill.

First date

You two finally go on a first date

● Hear me out. He'd take you to an aquarium. I don't care what anyone says, it's peaceful. He's been surrounded by things trying to kill him constantly. Seeing something beautiful, slow, and natural would be grounding for him.

● He definitely prefers walking around, looking at things, and talking, rather than just sitting at a table and asking about each other's lives. He finds the experience more connecting. Sitting across from someone feels like an interrogation (which he's done too many times).

● He'd know nothing about fish. But when you walk past one species, he'd definitely know a really random, niche fact that no one knows about it. He’ll know the exact chemical composition of a pufferfish toxin from a survival manual, but then he’ll look at a sea turtle and just go, "wow. He's a big guy, isn't he?"

● Even on a date, he always subconsciously maps out the exits to each room you enter. He makes sure he's always as aware of them as he can be, making sure you're a tiny bit closer to them than he is.

● He always smells expensive, but understated. Maybe expensive leather and some sort of citrusy cologne. Think bergamot, sicilian lemon, black tea, leather, and a hint of vanilla. It's a scent that lingers on your clothes days after he's hugged you.

● He’d 100% buy you something stupid. A keychain or a plush shark. He’ll act like he’s doing it ironically, but he’ll be genuinely pleased if you keep it.

Everyday life

Things go well and you start dating

● His love language is definitely quality time. He finds peace in just sitting near you while you both do your own thing. You'll catch him just watching you. Not in a creepy way, just memorising all of your features.

● He's surprisingly precise about his hair. You'll catch him in the bathroom mirror for 10 minutes trying to get one specific piece to sit exactly right.

● The longer you date, the worse his puns get. He uses humour to cope. If he's had a bad week, you both sympathise with him and become full of dread because you know the jokes are about to be absolutely unbearable to hear.

● He seems like the type to sit there reading a mission report while holding your hand, not even saying a word, but his thumb is constantly stroking your knuckles.

● He has a habit that you find both endearing and persistent. He will make sure you drink enough water, eat enough, get outside at least once a day, sleep enough. He is unbelievably determined when it comes to you taking care of yourself.

● He has zero respect for what you’re actually doing when the urge to hug you hits. If you’re trying to type an email or cook dinner, he will weave himself around you anyway. He knows he gets in the way because he's a big guy, but he doesn't care.

Mornings and nights

Waking up and going to sleep with him

● He'd definitely be a bit of a night owl. You'd wake up at 2am and see him just watching TV all the time. When he can't sleep, he finds that forcing himself gets him absolutely nowhere, so he just does what he wants until he gets some sort of sleep. His job and all his PTSD has given him pretty bad insomnia.

● If he wakes up from a nightmare, he won't tell you. He’ll just gravitate toward you in his sleep, tucking his face into the crook of your neck as if to remind himself that you’re real and safe.

● He loves playing with your hair until you fall asleep every single night. It relaxes you and gives him something to do with his hands. He's not used to sitting completely still, one of the reasons why he struggles to sleep.

● If you have to get up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom or get some water, he is instantly awake. He's not suspicious of you, it's just his active brain. He'll wait until you get back in bed for his breathing to fully even out again.

● He isn't a "jump out of bed and make pancakes" guy. He’s a "stay in bed for an extra twenty minutes staring at the ceiling and holding you" guy. He loves the quiet moments where the world hasn't started demanding things from him yet. But, he'll still make you pancakes if you want him to when he actually gets up.

● If he actually goes into a deep sleep, expect to wake up to him practically crushing you. If he's fallen into a deep sleep, he's shockingly heavy. He'll have an arm thrown over your waist that feels like a weighted blanket. And he won't let you move it.

Bad days

You both have many, bad, heavy days.

● His bad days are heavy because they're riddled with guilt. He's always had pretty bad survivors guilt. He feels like he shouldn't have made it out of Raccoon City. On his worst days, you’ll find him staring at nothing for long periods. It’s like he’s rewatching a movie of his past in his head. He gets very quiet, and his movements become mechanical.

● He might subconsciously pull away or spend the evening in another room because he feels like his "darkness" shouldn't touch you. He thinks he’s protecting you by being distant, but he really just needs to be reminded that he’s allowed to be human and that he isn't "tainted" by what he's seen.

● He is an incredible listener. If you need to vent, he will sit there with his full attention on you, never interrupting, never judging. He’s seen the worst of humanity, so nothing you say will scare him. He’ll just pull you into his lap afterward and let you hide your face against his shoulder until you feel steady again.

● During bad days, he tends to punish himself subtly by not taking care of himself. You happily cook him meals, help him bathe, maybe go on a walk with him. He's very hard on himself, and you both take care of him and try to bring him back.

● If your bad day leaves you too exhausted to take care of yourself, he will quietly take over. He’ll make sure you eat, bring you water, and gently guide you through a routine to help you get better, reciprocating the care you show him on his own difficult days.

Life when he's away

Your life when he's away on missions

● His missions are sudden. One minute he's helping you with dinner, and the next, his phone pings and his entire posture shifts. He can't give you details about where he's going or what he's doing, but he always takes a long, quiet moment to hold you at the door before he walks out.

● He deliberately leaves small, comforting pieces of himself around the living room. He might leave his favourite worn-in hoodie on the back of a chair, or "forget" to put away a specific book he was reading. He likes knowing his presence stays in the room even when he isn't there.

● Before he walks out the door, he double checks everything regarding your security. He will quietly double check the window locks, make sure the door lock works perfectly, and remind you to keep the porch light on.

● The last hug at the door is always the longest. He’ll wrap his arms around you tightly and bury his face into your shoulder or the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent to memorise it.

● On nights when the anxiety gets particularly heavy, you find comfort in the things he does when he's home. You might put on a movie he likes just for the background noise, or make sure you drink the exact amount of water he’d usually badger you about. Taking care of yourself becomes a way of honouring him while he's not there to do it for you.

● You know he's skilled and you know he can handle himself, but you can't stop lying awake at night, worried if he's alive or not. There's so much danger in his job, and he can't tell you where he's going. You don't know if it's the deadliest mission of his life or something simple.

● When he first gets home, he’s a bit of a ghost. He’ll walk into the kitchen, stare into the fridge for five minutes, and forget why he’s there. He needs to be tethered back to reality.

● For a little while, you only really have what's left of all the energy he spent on the mission, but you take care of him the same way he would you, and eventually, he comes back mentally and you’ll notice the exact moment his eyes lose that distant, survival-mode glaze and truly focus on you again.

Intimacy (NSFW)

What it's like being intimate with him

● He'd definitely talk you through it. I don't make the rules. "Don't close your eyes. Look at me. I want you to see exactly who’s doing this to you." "Yeah, say my name. I want to hear it again. I want to know you know exactly who you belong to right now." "That’s it. You’re taking it so well for me. You’re being so good." "Tell me how that feels. Does it feel good? Yeah?" I could make a list of all the things he'd say.

● He’s heavy, and he knows it. He’ll use his size to pin you down. Not to be aggressive, but because he wants to feel the maximum amount of contact and he wants you to feel him.

● He’s usually a bit self-conscious about the scars on his back and shoulders from Raccoon City and his various missions. If you touch them or kiss them, it completely undoes him. He’ll go quiet, his breath hitching, and he’ll pull you closer and hide in your neck.

● He definitely has some hard limits, like cop/criminal or interrogating role play. It feels too much like a Tuesday at work for him. He wouldn't do weapon play or anything like that. Even if it's unloaded or on safety or just for show, he’s seen too many accidental deaths and has used weapons to kill many things. For him, weapons are a tool for death, not something he'd put you around.

● He never shuts up. He'd talk to you throughout the whole thing, praising you, teasing you, and narrating exactly how you’re reacting to him until your ears are ringing as much as your head is spinning. Even when you’re breathless and trying to lose yourself in the sensation, he’s right there. When you finally go over the edge, he just pulls you closer, his voice in your ear. "That’s it. Just like that. I’ve got you." He forces you to maintain eye contact with him throughout the whole thing.

● I also think sometimes he lets you be in control if you ask to. (He says he's letting you "for now," but he actually really enjoys it). He's also vocal. He doesn't leave you guessing. If he likes what you’re doing, you’re going to hear it. He’ll groan, whimper, moan, or breathe your name like it’s a prayer. He knows that his vocal reactions are a reward for you, and he isn't shy about giving them.

● He likes leaving faint marks. Bruises on your hips from where his hands held you tightly, or a hidden bite mark on your shoulder. If you leave scratches on his back or shoulders, he wears them like a badge.

● When it comes to aftercare, he isn't passive. He is the type to immediately bring you a glass of water without you needing to ask. He appreciates the quiet task of bringing a warm towel to clean you up, treating it as a slow routine to help you both wind down. He will press slow, lazy kisses to your forehead, temples, and jawline, whispering low, gentle praises like "You did so good for me" or "I've got you, you're safe." His hands are never still. He’ll trace faint patterns on your back or play with your hair, relying on constant physical connection to anchor himself in the moment.

Chris Redfield

He'd be a shield. Heavy and unmovable. He would be a silent, anxious protective, worried for you, refusing to ever come close to losing you.

You were out late and your phone died. Because of how many people he's lost, he immediately panics when you aren't back at your normal time or answering your phone.

You finished work for the day and packed up before leaving the building, the breeze cutting through the warm air, soothing your sweat covered skin. It had been a long day, borderline trapped inside that building.

Instead of going straight home, you took out your phone and messaged your best friend, wanting to meet up with them. They agreed, and you met up at your local café for a coffee and snack.

"What have you been up to?" They asked, nails lightly tapping against the cup of their caramel latte.

"Nothing much. Just work," you sighed, looking down at your drink. "You?" It had been about 3 months since you two had met up in real life, and you promised them you would soon. It was a lovely evening, and you had nothing better to do before you had to go back home to Chris.

You two spoke until the sun dipped below the horizon, causing a gorgeous pink, blue, and red scene across the sky, thin, fluffy clouds scattered about.

"I should really get going. I need to get back home before my boyfriend gets worried," you said, crumpling the food wrapper and grabbing your cup.

Your friend smiled, nodding. "I need to get back, too." They said. "I promised my family I'd cook tonight."

You got in the car, dragging your seat belt across yourself. It wasn't until you started the car that you gasped. You needed to go shopping. There was nothing in the house.

You groaned, grabbing your phone, pulling Chris' number up.

'Hey, honey. I'm gonna be a bit longer than usual. Need to go shopping.'

Just as you went to press send, your phone went dark. You dropped your phone on the seat, groaning into your hands. You needed to go shopping, Chris wasn't aware, and now you feel awful because you know damn well he is going to panic.

You considered just driving past. You were exhausted, and the dead phone felt like an omen. But you remembered the empty carton of eggs and the bag of coffee that was mostly dust. Chris had a 0500 start at the base tomorrow, and the thought of him navigating one of those mornings without a proper breakfast made your guilt outweigh your fatigue. He also wouldn't have enough time to go get it himself. You had little choice but to go shopping.

You sighed through your nose, starting the car. If you were quick, you'd be able to be a little less late.

You pulled into a parking space at the supermarket, getting out and walking in. It wasn't extremely busy at 9pm on a Monday.

The bright lights made your work-tired eyes burn a little, but you grabbed a shopping cart and continued on, grabbing bread, milk, eggs, all that, different meats, his favourite protein filled snacks, like mixed nuts and beef jerkey. All the essentials.

And, of course, his favourite instant coffee. He loved unsweetened black coffee in his flask, one of the only things about him that you didn't understand.

You were waiting for the cashier to print the receipt. If you left now, you'd be home in 15 minutes. He's been home for 3 hours by now. He's definitely called someone at this point, you thought.

You knew his struggles and anxiety with people being late. He's lost one too many people, and it made you feel like a piece of shit for forgetting you had to go shopping.

You drove back as quickly as you could, relief flowing your insides as the places that were usually full of traffic were mostly clear.

When you finally pulled into the driveway, you see him standing on the front porch. He isn't pacing. He's perfectly still, watching the street. The second your headlights hit him, you see his shoulders drop about 2 inches, the only indicator of the tension he was knotted in.

He meets you at the car door and takes the bags without a word. His hand lingered on yours as he took one of the bags for slightly longer than necessary.

You followed him inside, and he set the bags on the counter. "You didn't answer your phone," he said, attempting to sound casual. But his voice was deeper and a little rougher than usual.

"I know, I'm so, so sorry," You said, sweat clinging to your forehead. "I left work and met one of my friends, then i forgot I needed to go shopping, and I tried to message you, but my phone died just as I went to hit send, and I tried to hurry in the store, so I might have forgotten something, and it was a disaster." You rushed out.

You went to continue apologising, but his hand grabbed your arm, his strength, even when he was being gentle, cutting through your thoughts.

"Hey, hey, calm down." He said in that voice he knew silenced your brain. "It's okay, it's not your fault." He paused, before saying, "But don't let that happen again, baby. I need to know if you're going to be late. It's never as quiet as it looks out there."

You nodded, wrapping your arms around his rock solid but warm torso, resting your head on his chest as he returned the gesture.

"You should go to bed. You have to be up early tomorrow," you said into his chest, and you felt a small huff of laughter escape him.

"You really underestimate me, don't you?" He said, playfulness creeping into his earlier heavy tone. "I've gone to work on little to no sleep multiple times, and I've been just fine."

You rolled your eyes slightly. You could feel the tension cracking and melting away slowly. "Yeah, well, you should still try to go to sleep. It's 10pm. And you always wake up an hour or two before you need to leave."

He nodded. He never argued with you when it came to his physical health because you were relentless. Enough water when he was working out, more food than just protein filled dinners, not too much coffee.

You both walked upstairs, and the first thing you did was get in the shower, washing away all the evidence from the day at work and the panic of being late.

Once you came out, he had that look in his eyes. The look that said he wanted you to come closer without asking. He was never extremely forward, but you had learned to read him.

You moved closer, sitting next to him and letting him pull you close, pressing a kiss to your lips. His lips were soft against yours, his hand gently cupping the back of your neck. You know how anxious he could get when people he loved didn't show up on time or answer him. He's seen too many things, experienced too much loss. You know he didn't want to come close to letting it happen again.

His lips were a little rougher against yours than usual. Probably him trying to convince himself that you're really here. To so many other partners, being late every now and then wouldn't make them panic, but for Chris, his brain raced through worst case scenarios.

When you deepened the kiss, his breath hitched, a low sound vibrating in his chest that was half sigh and half shudder. His hands, that were so steady on a rifle, shifted to cup your face. His thumbs brushed over your cheekbones with a shakiness that made your heart ache.

He pulled back just an inch, forehead resting against yours. His eyes were still closed, his eyelashes fluttering as he slowly breathed in.

​"I went through every possibility," he confessed, his voice a gravelly murmur that barely carried in the quiet of the room. He sounded almost embarrassed of his brain. "I keep telling myself I'm overprotective, that I'm suffocating you. But then the house gets too quiet, and I can't breathe."

You reached up, running your fingers through the short hair at the nape of his neck. "I'm here," you murmured, matching his volume. "I'm safe. I'm not going anywhere."

​He let out a long, shaky exhale, finally leaning his full weight into you as he tucked his head into the crook of your neck. The tension that had been coiled in his spine since 7pm finally snapped, leaving him heavy and warm against you.

Leon Kennedy

He would be a sentinel. Observant and tactical. His protectiveness isn't a wall, but a constant eye scanning every crowd, making sure it's exactly as it should be. Safe.

Someone was bothering you at a bar. With years of training, he's incredibly observant and reads your discomfort without saying a word, stepping in

You were sitting on a chair that was rather uncomfortable with a man talking practically in your ear. Could this night get any worse?

You had come to the bar to decompress from the stressful past few weeks. Work had been chaotic, the family drama had gotten worse, and one of your friends had ghosted you out of absolute nowhere, even going as far to pretend not to see you in public, which absolutely shattered your heart.

Now, you have some random creep saying perverted things in your ear, the potent smell of alcohol invading your senses. You had told him, politely, to leave you alone many times, even moved seats, but he wasn't letting up, and you were half convinced to stop being mannered and tell him to fuck off.

You ignored the words coming out of his mouth to your best ability. His words, "Is that what you're wearing for me? Because it’s working. Why don't we get out of here?", "You don't need to play hard to get. I know exactly what a person like you is looking for, and I'm right here," were freaking you out beyond belief.

You asked the bartender for another drink. This wasn't making your week any better.

"Oh, so you'll talk to her? Not me, huh?" The man said, shifting impossibly closer.

Something in you finally gave way, and you couldn't ignore him anymore. "If you keep on inching closer, you're going to make me fall off the chair. Can you move back, or, even better, just fucking leave." You snapped, leaning your head against your hand as you waited for your drink.

"Oh, a feisty one, huh?" He chuckled, sending a disgusted shiver down your spine. "I like that."

This man was not going to leave you alone. You wanted to leave, but you came here by bus. You couldn't drive with all the alcohol, you couldn't walk the hour back in the dark alone, and you couldn't catch the bus with all your money spent on drinks.

As the night went on, the relentless man became more and more impatient.

"I didn't ask if you were busy, I asked what time we're leaving. Stop making this difficult."

​"You keep saying 'no,' but your eyes say something else. I think you just like the chase, don't you?"

​"I bet you aren't this quiet when you're behind closed doors. How about we go find out?"

It was never-ending and disgusting and so exhausting.

You were contemplating calling someone, whether it was a member of your already very stressed family or your friend who apparently no longer cared about you.

Before you could even get close to clumsily grabbing your phone, alcohol making your aim awkward, you felt a hand rest on your shoulder. Just as you were about to turn to the man to tell him to get off, you noticed it was someone else behind you.

"They're with me," the new man said. His voice was deep and steady, dropping like an anchor in the middle of the man’s aggressive rambling. "You can leave."

The stranger scoffed, throwing his hands up in a fake gesture of innocence. "They never said they were taken."

"I shouldn't have to," you muttered under your breath, still leaning against your hand.

​"Well, you better watch out," the man spat, directing a jagged look at the new man. "They led me on the whole time, knowing they were in a relationship. Good luck with that."

​"I never-" The words caught in your throat, a mix of shock and anger, but the man didn't stay to hear it. He vanished into the crowd.

You let out a long, defeated sigh, your shoulders finally dropping from around your ears. The new man didn't hesitate. He slid into the empty chair, claiming the space.

​"You okay?" he asked. His voice was different now, softer.

You nodded slowly, finally looking up to take him in. He had tired eyes and a look of someone who had traveled a thousand miles just to get to this chair. "Fine. Just... thank you. Who are you?"

​"Name's Leon," he said, offering a small, ghost of a smile.

His leather jacket was tight around his broad shoulders. No wonder the man left. He was huge compared to him.

"You need a ride home?"

You hesitated, lips parting slightly. You didn't want any more creepy men. You were already hazy from the alcohol.

"I don't want to force you. You can say no," he said, amusement coating his tone. Probably at how nervous you were to say no.

You shook your head, "No, it's fine. I don't have a way to get back, anyway." You said. Your words slurred slightly.

He nodded. He knew exactly what to do, and taking advantage of you was not one of those things. You were agreeing easily because you were drunk and he wasn't being threatening. He knew that, and he wasn't about to exploit you.

He stood up, helping you up. "Wanna tell me where you live?"

You said the address and road, and he nodded in familiarity, leading you out into the cold, dark air.

He led you over to his sleek black car, opening the door for you. You climbed in, clumsily putting your seat belt on. Your hands were always the most affected when you were drunk.

It was weirdly warm despite being parked in the cold air, and it smelled just like him. Leather, musk, and some sort of fresh cologne.

You knew you shouldn't be getting into a car with a man you didn't know, but the alternative, the man at the bar or the long walk home felt so much more dangerous. Something about the way Leon moved, steadily and calmly, made your clouded brain decide he was the exception.

He got in and started the car. As he drove down the roads, he didn't try to start much conversation with you. He could see how dazed you were.

The car was almost completely silent. The music was dimmed down from what you assumed it would normally be. The soft clicks of the indicator were incredibly grounding, and every time he shifted gears, his arm brushed near yours.

Eventually, your head drifted back against the headrest, the world blurring into a haze of streetlights and buildings. Your eyes began to flutter closed, the exhaustion of the day finally winning.

​"Hey," Leon’s voice cut through the fog, accompanied by a gentle tap on your arm. "Stay awake. We’ll be there in twenty minutes."

You blinked hard, refocusing on him. The dash lights cast a blue glow over his sharp features, highlighting the focused set of his jaw.

​"Sorry," you mumbled, your tongue still heavy.

"Don't be. Just keep your eyes open a little longer," he murmured.

Once you got home, he got out, walking around to your side. When he opened the door, the cool night air rushed in, but it was quickly replaced by the heat radiating from him as he leaned into your space. He moved slowly, his chest nearly brushing your shoulder to unbuckle your seat belt.

He helped you out. You almost collapsed on your weak legs, and his arms caught your waist. ​"Easy," he murmured, his voice a low vibration that seemed to hum right through you.

He led you through your own front door after you had managed to unlock it with his help.

"You're gonna be okay?" He asked. He didn't just look at you, he looked at the room, checking the interior before his eyes settled back on yours. He helped you onto the couch, his grip lingering just a second until he was sure your balance had held.

​"I'll be fine now," you whispered

A small, tired smile ghosted his lips. He reached out, his thumb grazing the back of your hand in a brief gesture. "Lock the door behind me, yeah?"

He didn't wait for a reply, already moving towards the exit. He closed the door gently, with a soft click.

Carlos Oliveria

He’d be a rock. Comforting and grounding. His protectiveness isn't heavy like a burden. It's steady.

You had a stressful day with someone at work, and you're struggling to come down from it. Carlos notices it the minute you come home.

You packed your belongings into your bag. Today was god awful, and you felt weak for letting it affect you. Miller's words rung in your head like a never-ending bell.

"I’m actually impressed you finished that report on time. I know how much you usually struggle with the technical side of things."

​"Did I take credit for that? I thought we were a team. I didn't realise you wanted the recognition so bad."

​"Relax, I was just joking. You really need to grow a thicker skin."

​"I actually went ahead and double-checked your work from this morning. It’s a good thing I did. I found some 'oversights' that would have been pretty embarrassing for the department if they'd gone out."

​"Don't bother taking notes. I’ll send out the summary later. I want to make sure the instructions are actually clear for once so we don't have a repeat of last week's disaster."

His snarky, passive-aggressive tone was really getting to you today. You had been holding in your anger all day. Hell, all week.

You shoved the rest of your belongings in your bag before making your way to your car. It made you feel beyond pathetic, letting someone's snide get to you like this.

When you got home, you walked through the door with a huff, keys jingling loudly in your hand. Everything was too loud. Your keys, the keychains on your bag, your shoes against the floor. You needed to get it off right now.

"How was work, baby?"

You heard him before you saw him. Carlos had gotten home before you, clearly.

​"It was fine," you said, but the sharpness of your words said otherwise. You dropped your bag on the table with a loud thud.

​Carlos appeared in the doorway of the kitchen, leaning slightly against the door frame. He didn't ask again. He didn't push. He just watched the way you ripped your shoes off, his eyes tracking the frantic energy radiating off you. He could tell immediately.

​"Come here," he murmured. It wasn't a suggestion.

​You let out a shaky breath. The frustration of the day, from Miller non-stop undermining you to the sheer exhaustion of performing, finally bubbled over. You walked into his space, and he didn't hesitate.

His arms immediately wrapped around you. He gave the firmest hugs you had ever felt. You let your head rest on his rigid chest, the heat from his body radiating onto yours.

He didn't pull away when he felt you start to tremble. Instead, he tucked his chin over the top of your head, his large hand splaying across the small of your back.

"What happened? Huh?" He asked softly. "Tell me who I need to be mad at so you don't have to carry it anymore."

​"Just this guy at work," you said, trying to sound indifferent, but the slight tremble in your voice betrayed you. You let out a jagged breath, looking away. "It’s really pathetic, honestly."

He shook his head. "Hey, stop that," he murmured, gaze searching yours. "If it's making you shake, it's real. Not pathetic. Talk to me."

You finally let the dam break. About how your co-worker had spent the entire shift today undermining you, talking over you, taking credit for your ideas, making passive aggressive comments that made you feel like shit. How he always did this, and day by day, it was filing you down, thinner and thinner.

"It just makes me feel pathetic because it reminds me of, like, highschool. And that makes me feel like no grown adult like me should be upset about this." Your voice was trembling, pausing in between words to sharply inhale through your tears.

​"Listen to me," he said, his voice dropping an octave, losing all its usual playfulness. "Being an adult doesn't mean you stop feeling it when people are assholes."

He brings his thumbs up to wipe your tears away. "If he keeps it up? You tell me. I’m not saying I’ll do anything. Crazy, at least. But I can definitely find a reason to say something."

You nodded, and he pressed a lingering, firm kiss to your forehead, hands sliding down to hold yours.

He moved to sit on the couch, letting you sit between his legs. His fingers ran through your hair, beginning to braid the strands. He could make braids out of any length of hair. You've watched him do it to himself when he was bored.

You continued venting about Miller and everything else in that building as he soothingly braided the strands.

"He thinks he’s clever because he uses big words to hide his own insecurity," Carlos grumbled. "But he’s just a bully in a cheap suit, meu anjo. He’s trying to make you feel small because he knows he can’t stand tall on his own feet. He sees your light, and he’s terrified it’s gonna show everyone just how dim his own is."

The room fell into a comfortable silence, apart from the sound of your own breathing finally evening out. There was something calming about the way he worked. He untangled the knots of your day, one strand at a time.

​"My grandma taught me how to do this," he murmured, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through the back of the couch. "She used to say that when your head is full of loud noises, you have to give your hands something quiet to do. Just focus on the feel of it. Everything else is just noise."

He finished the braid with a soft pat to your shoulder, then leaned forward to press a kiss to the side of your head. "Do you want some dinner?"

First date

He'd pick a place out of the way. Maybe a local, quiet spot with red vinyl booths and good coffee.

● He'd intentionally lead you over to a seat positioned so he could see the door. He'd be early, waiting for you for around 10 minutes before you'd arrive.

● Dates aren't something he ever does. You two had been talking, and he agreed because he wanted to get closer to you.

● He wouldn't dress fancy or anything, but he'd wear clothing that was nice compared to what he typically had to wear. Maybe a crisp white long sleeved shirt.

● He's a bit awkward. He'd ask about your day with a seriousness that makes you realise he's actually listening to every word.

● He probably wouldn't stress over wearing a lot of cologne, but he'd smell very outdoorsy, like cedarwood and cold air, with a clean, fresh sandalwood note in there.

● You definitely notice how on guard he constantly is, moving the salt and pepper occasionally as if it's blocking his line of sight to you. How his shoulders tense the slightest every time a waiter or waitress walks past a little too quickly. But, despite that, his attention is somehow still fully on you and your words.

● He'll pay the bill before you even see it. When he walks you towards the door and opens it for you, he doesn't push for anything. But there's a little softness in his eyes that wasn't there before.

Everyday life

Things go well and you get together.

● There was never a conversation about getting together. It just happened and clicked into place like a puzzle.

● He is extremely protective, but it's never loud unless it needs to be. Most of the time, his protectiveness is worrying about losing you like he has so many people. He might try to convince you to not go out too late or stop you from getting trapped in his job. He isn't obsessive or very possessive, he just worries.

● His love language is definitely acts of service. You'll find your kitchen knives sharpened as soon as they're just a little dull, you'll come downstairs in the morning to the food cupboards full where he had picked up some stuff for you, you'll find so many previous obstacles in your life just suddenly gone.

● You love hugging him because of how massive he is. He's like a warm mountain. You can never fully wrap your arms around his waist; not many people can. But you can definitely bury your face in his solid bicep.

● As much he pretends he doesn't, he loves kisses. He might huff or murmur about you being "distracting," but if you stop, he'll immediately look for you. When you're on the couch, and you pepper kisses on his face and neck, he gets a tiny bit flustered. His ears might turn a little red, but his hands will still go to your waist to hold you in place so you'll do it again.

● He is terrified of Claire embarrassing him in front of you, but he likes how much you two get along. Claire is arguably the most important person in his life, and he wouldn't want you two to not get along.

● He is shockingly careful with your belongings. You expect a man his size to accidentally be a little rough or aggressive, but he handles your things, like a delicate mug or your phone, the same way someone would handle a little tiny kitten. He is very gentle with things you own, and is terrified of breaking something that belongs to you.

Mornings and nights

Waking up and going to sleep with him

● It's very rare that you actually wake up with him because he's up by latest 5. By the time you get up, he's already in the kitchen, post workout, making you something. Knowing him, it's probably something with eggs.

● When you do wake up with him (maybe the sound of him getting dressed wakes you up), you lie there and watch him for a moment before you pull him back into the blankets by his waistband. He'll huff and tell you that he has things to do, but will inevitably cave and hold you close for 5 minutes before actually getting up. He'll murmur something like, "go back to sleep, honey" before he leaves.

● He refuses to fall asleep before you. While you're going to sleep, he does his usual ingrained routine of checking the doors and windows are locked a few times before coming back up to bed. He'll get into bed and pull you close while you're half asleep, and he'll wait until you're fully asleep to consider it himself.

● Sometimes you wake up in the middle of the night and admire how cute he is when he sleeps. You don't see him asleep often, so when you do, you take it in and maybe take a little photo of him completely relaxed to tease him about later. When he's sleeping, he's either borderline suffocating you by holding you, or his hand is resting somewhere on you.

Bad days

He's good at hiding them, but he still has awful days sometimes, and so do you.

● He's not the best at being direct, but you've learned to understand him. His eyes are the most expressive part of his body, and you can tell when he's not feeling great.

● He has very, very bad trauma and PTSD. The more he slowly reveals to you, the more you feel for him. All of the loss, the physical trauma, the situations he wishes he could've prevented. He's very disciplined. When he's having a bad day, you notice him working out more drinking less water. You don't try to stop him because you know what he's like, but you have to force him to drink water.

● During your bad days, he doesn't hover or nag you, but he makes sure you know he's there if you need him. He'll bring you some water or coffee, hold you close if you want it, he'll take the trash out or handle the dishes. He'll just make sure there's as little for you to do as possible to not add on to your stress.

● If you're crying, that's what truly undoes him. His voice drops an octave, and he's the type to stay there and let you lean on him as much as you need to. He might not have the perfect things to say, but he believes that no words are better than fake ones. He'll probably rub big, slow circles into your back with a hand that could probably crush anything but is being as light as a feather right now.

Life when he's away

His missions are rough. You have to try to cope with being by yourself

● You know his missions are never particularly easy. You are constantly being drowned in worry, so before he leaves, he holds you in a way that feels like he's trying to memorise every single thing about you. Your scent, the feeling of your skin, your weight on top of his. It's a long, silent embrace.

● He doesn't do goodbyes. To him, goodbyes are too permanent, too much like what he's said to people he's lost. Instead, he'll cup your face in his calloused hands and say something like, "I'll be back before you know it."

● While he's gone, you quickly learn that no news is good news. But, he always has someone, like Claire, to check on you and keep you company. You'd get random texts from her, asking if you want to get coffee.

● You always find yourself gravitating towards his side of the bed at night because his scent lingers on it. It's the only way you can get a full night's rest.

● Once he gets back, he stays in the shower for a long time. It's his decompression time, his way of washing away the memory of the mission on his body with scalding water and a rough sponge. He needs time to process and get clean before he can return to being your partner.

● Once he comes back mentally, he becomes incredibly clingy, although he would never call it that. He won't let you leave the room. If you're cooking, he's leaning against the counter watching you. If you're reading, he's sitting so close, your legs are touching.

Intimacy (NSFW)

What it would be like being intimate with him.

● He isn't much of a big talker. Instead, he lets out low, gravelly hums of approval. If he does speak, it's usually very reassuring. "I've got you" "You have no idea how much I needed this", or he simply says your name like a prayer.

● His hands are rough from all of his work. The feeling of calloused, warm hands on your body reminds you exactly who he is every time.

● He isn't afraid of becomingrougher when he's being intimate with you. He can be rough while still only using 1% of his real strength, and he'd never intentionally hurt you.

● He'd be open to anything you suggested, to a limit. I don't think he'd be into bondage or anything along those lines. It would worry him a little. He's been through a lot.

● He would absolutely love it when you call yourself his. His breath would hitch every time he hears it because he knows it's you choosing him as your person. You'd likely get a very low, rough "Yeah? You're mine?"

● He isn't trying to put on a show, he’s just focused entirely on making sure you’re taken care of. If he finds a spot or a rhythm that makes you fall apart, he won't move. He’ll stay right there, watching your face with an intense focus until you're clinging to his shoulders for dear life.

● He'd want to look at you. When he's on top of you, eye contact is a big thing for him. It isn't usually in the outside world, but with you, he wants to see every single change of emotion and pleasure your eyes show.

● He can go on for a very long time. If you're okay with it, he'd happily be there all night, and the longer it goes on, the more vocal he gets. At the start, he's very quiet, focusing on you, checking your reactions. After a little while, his breathing would become heavy and ragged, and he'd say little words to you to keep you mentally there, like "look at me." Eventually, the gravelly hums would become low groans or a little praise. He might mutter things like, "God, you're so good" or simply repeat your name like he's trying to cling onto it.

● He's big on aftercare. Once the intensity is over, his instinct is to cocoon you. He'll tuck the blanket over both your shoulders tightly to make sure you aren't cold. He'd shift so your head is against his chest, and you feel his heartbeat slowly coming down. If you're thirsty, he's already up. If you want a bath, he's already running it. If you just want to go to sleep, he'd lay there with you.

The first date

You two met after talking over the phone for 2 weeks for your first date. He wanted it at a fancy restaurant, and you had agreed.

● He'd definitely dress smart, like a white button down, and wear his best cologne. Something with lavender, salt, musk, amber, and a hint of black pepper. He'd smell clean, masculine, and approachable without smelling sharp or overwhelming.

● He's the type to want to impress you, and he'd spend the first 5 minutes subtly checking to see if you noticed the effort he put in. He wouldn't show up too formal with a full tuxedo, but he'd still put some effort into his clothing and hair.

● He'd definitely say something goofy during the date, like admitting he looked up the restaurant menu 3 days ago so he wouldn't look like an idiot trying to pronounce the specials. He's not trying too hard to make you laugh, just letting his personality shine through.

● He would encourage you and your confidence. He'd call you and your outfit attractive and tell you that he feels underdressed next to you even though he spent an hour getting ready.

● He would pay. No questions asked. He'd do it before you could even offer to split.

Everyday life

Things go well after a few dates and you finally start dating.

● I think his love language with his partner would be physical touch. Whether it's subtly resting his hand on your back in public or cuddling you on the couch in private.

● He isn't an amazing chef, but on days where he doesn't have to work, he'd love cooking with you. Maybe even trying to teach you Brazilian recipes his family taught him. He was never an outstanding cook, but he can definitely make breakfast for you while you're in bed, and it tastes amazing every time.

● He's protective, not a prison. He'd respect you and trust you. He'll make sure you know how to defend yourself, but he wouldn't be possessive over who you're friends with unless they actually became a problem for you or started interfering with the relationship

● Expect him to always play around with you. Whether it's having actual game nights, him tickling you non stop when you've annoyed him, watching movies together, or going places with him you've always wanted to go, he'd always be a very playful person. That's just how he is.

● He'd be your biggest supporter. Call yourself ugly? He'd immediately and loudly disagree and give you 73 reasons why you're not even close. Insecure of a project for work? He'd tell you it's great and mean it and give you advice to improve it if you asked. He's very vocal about his pride in you. He doesn't just think you're great, he makes sure you know you are.

● When you're sick, he turns into a doctor-chef-cleaner-caretaker. He'll check your temperature every few hours, ask you if you feel nauseous, give you lozenges. He'll cook you plenty of soup and tea. He'll clean your entire house. He'll make sure you bathe probably and drink enough water. He'll put your favourite movies on, and be more than close enough to you to get sick. Not that he cares, though.

● When he's working, he leaves you his hoodies that smell of him. Some smell of his cologne that you love, and some smell of just him. Clean laundry, coffee, and a hint of cedarwood. He always tells you he doesn't know how long he'll be, but promises to come back in one piece.

Mornings and nights

Waking up and going to sleep with him.

● When you wake up, it's like being trapped under a warm boulder with arms. If you try to move, he just squeezes you tighter.

● A lot of the time, he has completely sleepless nights, whether he's on the field or thinking about things. His body can withstand an all-nighter without any fatigue because of how many he's had. But he always makes sure you get some sort of sleep, no matter what. He'll buy you melatonin if he has to.

● The only time he wouldn't cuddle you at night is if it was too hot, because he doesn't want to overwhelm you. But, he'd still want to be close.

● When you're going to sleep, he'd have a very specific ritual. He'd need the curtains drawn, the TV on with the brightness dimmed and the volume low, all doors in the house shut, the front and back door double checked after locking them, all lights turned off, and having you close.

Bad days

Bad days for you or him are common, but neither of you let them overshadow the relationship. Instead, you support each other.

● He'll come home and just rest his head on your lap. He doesn't need you to fix any pain he experienced during a mission, he just needs to feel your heartbeat to remind himself that he's alive and back home.

● You're always worried to tell him about your bad days because you've seen him go through so much. You think telling him about some idiot at work, or not being able to focus because of your anxiety, would sound pathetic compared to what he tells you. Eventually, you admit this to him, and he is nothing but supportive. He'd hold you close and mutter things like "you should never be scared to tell me anything" and he'd tell you over and over that he loves you and that your pain is just as valid as his.

● He's very talkative usually, but on a bad day, he's perfectly content sitting in silence with you as long as he has some sort of touch with you. Whether your shoulders or hands are touching, or whether you're full on cuddling.

● He has pretty bad PTSD. He gets triggered by seeing the places that caused his trauma and seeing the faces of people he's lost. Sometimes, it hits him bad, and he can't do anything but stay in bed. He's worried it makes him a different person or lazy, but you stay reassuring him, cooking for him all day although he might not eat all of it, helping him shower if he can get to that point. He always feels like he needs to repay you for taking care of him, but you tell him he doesn't. He still subtly repays you by buying you something or being extra attentive. He can't help it, as much as you hate it.

Life when he's away

When he's on missions, you have to live with yourself.

● You are constantly anxious. Thinking of the worst case scenarios. It's very stressful for you, and he never undermines that. He will be the most comforting teddy bear ever when he gets back.

● You always check in on him when he gets back. You know that not every single mission is trauma inducing and life changing, but some of them are.

● When he's not with you or messaging you, you feel really lonely, even with your family and friends. He is such a magnetic, bright presence, and it never feels the same without him.

● You sleep with one of his hoodies on and one next to you every single night. Whenever they start to lose their scent, you spray them with any deodorant or cologne of his you can find although his natural scent is better.

● When he comes back, it's like he never left. The energy he brings comes back immediately, and he never leaves your side.

Intimacy (NSFW)

What it would be like being intimate with him.

● It's never just physical for him. He's very present, no phones, no distractions, just you and him. He likes being able to hear every sound and every stutter of your breath. He likes knowing what he does to you.

● He's a giver. He finds genuine joy (and a bit of an ego boost) in your pleasure. He'd ask constantly, "you like that?" He knows you like his words, and he's also subtly checking in.

● He loves praising you. Calling you good, telling how attractive you are, telling you what a good job you're doing, even if you're letting him do all the work. If you're into degradation, he'd be open to it. It doesn't come to him as naturally as praise, but he'd get the hang of it very quickly. He'd combine his praise and degradation, making it easier for him, calling you "his pretty slut".

● Before he goes on a long mission, he'd spend most of the night taking his time with you, making love to you. It would be more intense than usual, more meaningful. It's his way of giving you something intimate and close you can remember.

● He'd be very into overstim. If you let him, he'd send you over the edge multiple times, to the point your legs are too weak from shaking to wrap around him anymore.

● He would try different things you proposed, as long as they don't go over his own limits. If you wanted to try bondage, he'd make it very, very safe, but he'd put his training to use to make it secure.

● He'd never skip aftercare. If he has enough energy, he'll run you a bath and cuddle you while it's running. He'll tell you how much you mean to him, how he wouldn't be the same without you. If he was too tired, he would just gently clean you off with a warm cloth, and cuddle up to you and go to sleep. He wouldn't skip it, either way.