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I think Tumblr confessed first after the DDOS attack on AO3. Cause that's when they realized they were terrified of losing AO3, and how much AO3 meant to them.....
Could be yaoi, could be yuri, is probably neither or both. Whatever dynamic these guys have, I'm vibing with it.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Anya is LIVE right now
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tired! inexperienced! younger! reader x re9! leon (part 2)
part 1 is here!! this one is a lot more dialogue focused than some of my previous work, and im not used to writing intimacy so have mercy..
song: pale blue eyes - the velvet underground
summary: after leon withdraws from you, leaving you wondering what went wrong, he finds you in the rain- soaked. so he offers you a ride home.
you're angry, confused and frustrated and he is emotionally constipated, lonely and hopeless. only the perfect formula for a heated confession in the car.
those familiar wrinkles and floppy brown hair all held by the one man who had been avoiding you for weeks was sitting in the car.
"get in."
you tried to find words, to yell at him, to call him a douche and a bastard but there was nothing. your eyebrows could only furrow and your mouth slightly part. you could only wait for the words to come to you as your hair was slicked to your forehead and your blouse going see-through.
"i'm not getting in," you spat, "the next bus is coming soon," tucking your bag under your armpit.
"yeah, soon as in the next hour, just get in," he impatiently tapped his fingers against the steering wheel. his icy eyes flickered from you and on to the road.
you huffed and opened the door, stepping into the passenger seat, sighing extra loudly. what sort of man doesn't even open the door for you? chivalry is dead. you soaked the leather of the seat, water droplets falling off your hair.
"there's a towel in the back if you wanted to dry off," he pressed a few buttons on the screen in his car, the heating turning on, the warmth gently blowing on your legs. his foot pressed down on the accelerator, and you were off.
now, why would a man have a towel in the back of his car? you didn't know what kennedy did in his free time, but a towel in the back of a car could be used for many different things.
"i'm not touching that, yuck," you cringed, thinking of all the possible fluids that could've been on it.
he laughed, his shoulders bouncing up and down, "you think i fuck people in the back of my car. pleased to know you think i get some."
i mean, the porsche is pretty sexy.
you stared at him between the branches of your dripping hair.
"now, whereabouts do you live?" he asked, opening up maps on the screen, fingers tapping everywhere.
rain spat onto the window, his windshield wipers flicking it off either side.
"orchid lane, near where that old church used to be. you can just drop me off at some bus stop because the lanes get finicky," you glanced at him, his pale blue eyes illuminated by the blue of the screen.
"c'mon, i'll drive you all the way. it's not a problem," he insisted, jerking his head back to move his hair out of his face.
"it's out of your way."
"i said it's fine."
the two of you fell into silence. you noticed how the muscles in his arms tensed, veins popping.
the streetlights blurred and splintered through the wet windows. the soft yellow reflected off puddles, tall buildings flying into small shops, shops blurring into houses and then eventually, crossing a bridge, you were into towering trees, large green ones.
"you don't go to the break room anymore," he started. here we go.
"well you stopped appearing," you shot back, your face leaning on your palm.
"had paperwork. didn't think you'd notice."
"i notice a lot of things," you mumbled, rolling your eyes.
"yeah? like what?" he said, challenging you. his veins were protruding out of his arm at this point.
"like you don't even speak to me anymore!" you snapped at him.
"that's not-"
you hated confrontation. you avoided it like it was the plague. but when would there be another chance to say this, and some need or desperation within you just had to get it out. as if you thought that if you didn't say it now, he was never going to speak to you again. and that scared you more than anything else.
"it is, it's true, leon," you said, "but if that's the way you want it then i'd rather you tell me than look at me if i'm some ghost,"
a pause.
"i just thought things would be easier with distance."
"i think you're right," you scoffed, looking out the window.
silence fell upon the two of you.
"you can drop me off here," you mumbled, picking up your bag that rested between your legs.
he sped past the bus stop. you huffed, placing your bag in your lap and throwing your back onto the seat.
"great. now im stuck in a stupid car with some old man who is so emotionally repressed-"
"quit it," he snapped. he was leant all the way back in his seat, his elbow leaning on the window, massaging his temple. "it was meant to protect you," his hand now rubbing his mouth, his thumb brushing along his top lip.
"what?" you turned your head to him, in such a quick manner you think you got whiplash.
"the distance. i don't want to mess this up. i didn't mean to treat you like you're invisible," he admitted, his eyes solely on the road.
"i don't want distance. i want honesty."
another pause, longer than the previous.
he sighed.
"i think about you more than i should. more than co-workers should. i wonder if you've eaten enough, i wonder if you've slept enough and i don't want to play it cool anymore because i would eat my own fingers just to look at your face. i hope that you don't carry too much and i always correct the grammar errors on your reports before you send them off," he reeled off, his voice getting louder with every sentence, "god, never use a semi-colon ever again."
"leon-"
"and i'm older. i'm tired. i can't provide the normal that you want. i have a lot of shit on my shoulders that you shouldn't have to deal with," he exhaled, his eyes solemn.
you only wanted him to see himself through your eyes, to make him see himself as something beautiful; make him search for his perfections.
you mumbled, "i don't want normal," and your heart pounded. thudding.
did he remember when you first met? when you were new, on your 5th day- you remembered it being specifically your 5th. it was a friday, and you had just got the hang of the coffee machine in the break room. of course, you saw the storm of leather walking around, but you never spoke to him. did he remember the way your face was softly brushed by the morning light, and how he mistook you for someone else, forcing him into conversation out of politeness? your whole week was terrible, already buried under reports and you didn't even understand half the buttons on the screen. but when that blond walked through the door he said something stupid, some stupid joke. it had you bursting out with laughter, and since then, the morning light that slipped through the office always reminded him of your laugh.
so yes, he did remember.
"i want you," you admitted, your face twitched from just the pure stress those three words gave you.
those weeks where he didn't speak to you, it was something different. mornings were colder; days became mundane. what did you even look forward to anymore? your sister moved 2 hours away and friends didn't last long at the DSO. you would say you preferred the isolation, but really, you just liked quiet. and with leon, you learned that company could be quiet.
you heard a loud exhale from his nose.
"i shouldn't have let you say that,"
"let? leon, i meant-"
"you don't mean it. i've said shit like that before too,"
"leon," you said, firmer than ever before.
but he wasn't listening.
"you deserve something when it's quiet. when you're not clinging onto the warmest thing in the middle of this shit storm," he paused, "you're just tired. that's all this is,"
you go quiet.
in fact, you spent the rest of the car journey in silence. not even a glance in his direction. you left his car just muttering a polite thank you and stormed into your house. his stare was felt, but you were boiling with too much anger to give him the satisfaction of turning around.
how dare he? you had never ever said something so vulnerable before and he just deflected it. well fuck him, fuck men, fuck everyone. you preferred to be alone anyway. your company was the only reliable thing you knew.
his headlights stayed reflecting into your house for a good thirty seconds before pulling away and disappearing into the black.
you stripped your work clothes off in a huff, his scent still tainted on them, and settled on a band tee with plaid bottoms. you threw yourself onto the couch and turned on the tv, hoping it would drown out any of the thoughts in your brain.
you couldn't help the tears that welled up in your eyes, you had just ruined it all. the only thing that drew some sort of happiness out of you was gone. he drove away out of choice and he wasn't going to come back. work was going to be awful, he would be cold and cruel all over again. this absence wounded you, a physical pain in your chest emerging.
a knock at the door. something in you eased, maybe it was him.
you opened the door, finding leon standing there- soaked. he was standing there in his leather jacket, the one with the black fur around the collar, the one that you liked.
"i want you too," he confessed, looking at you, "you don't know how wrong it felt driving off." his expression was comparable to a hurt dog and he shook his head slightly, as if he was in disbelief of his own actions.
you blinked.
"you're soaking my porch," you stepped aside to let him in.
he let out a breathy chuckle, his much taller self towering over you as he stepped inside.
"do you want a coffee or something?" you said, unsure of what else to say.
he felt rather awkward. he had never been in your house before. he was like a dog, waiting for you to say fetch or sit or high-five.
"it's okay," he mumbled, looking around your place. at all your personal belongings.
photos of you and your sister, the frames decorated in stickers. lavender candles to help with your insomnia. dead flowers in a jar. the intricate floral details on your cupboards, painted by you. every corner of the house he stood in had your special touch, and how he wished he could find himself with you here in the morning, making you breakfast or coffee, or just sitting and watching the television with you.
he sat on the edge of your couch, looking rather out of place among the pink lacy pillows and white vases.
you sat yourself next to him, on the opposite end.
his knee bounced up and down before he cleared his throat.
"i'm sorry. i decided how you felt. i just have a bad habit of-"
"pushing people away. i know," you sighed, grabbing a pillow and holding it, "did you mean everything you said about me?"
"of course i did, y/n, whenever i'm around you i feel... lighter," he then murmured, "i'm not good at this whole speaking thing. you just make things quieter. and i didn't want to leave without making sure you knew i meant all of it," he finished, before turning to you.
you were silent, your cheeks coated in a pink dusting. your eyes then slowly drifted up until the two of you were looking at each other.
"i don't want you to disappear again," you whispered, shifting yourself closer to him, your knees brushing. "i don't want to go to the break room and see that you aren't there,"
you saw his gaze flick to your lips. the corners of his mouth curved upwards.
"i'll be there, i promise," his deep voice reassured you.
you never noticed the faint mole on the side of his cheek before, or how far his stubble actually reached along his jaw. and those sweet lips that released the jokes that made you laugh, and the occasional wise words that helped you get through the day.
then, you gazed back into his eyes that definitely weren't looking into yours anymore. they were on your slightly parted lips.
your body shifted closer, almost subconsciously, like your body needed him.
"are you sure about this?" he whispered ever so softly, his thumb rubbing against your hand.
you nodded.
fuck, was this actually happening?
he leaned in, his cold hands slipping around your waist. it made you jump a little, the warmth your body offered quickly soothed his hands. your breath hitched before his lips made contact with yours in a careful kiss. you sank into him, your palms sliding up his back.
you had no idea what you were doing. you just wanted to make him feel good, make him feel as sweet as he was making you. this burning heat was playing on your cheeks, trying to push your shyness away to give this man the love he needed.
he was gentle, as if pushing too hard would make you vanish.
he then pulled back, staring at you. he paused, then smiled, diving back in for more. your hand was tangled in his salt and pepper hair, overwhelmed by his cologne and leather scent. your back shifted until it was resting on the couch and you were underneath his solid warmth.
you hardly noticed that the storm outside worsened. it was just you and leon, in the quiet of your home.
your lips were going numb from kissing him like you were two teenagers, making out behind the pavilion in high school. you smiled into the kiss, a small laugh leaving you before he went back in for another, his hands sliding up your sides, holding you as close as humanly possible. it was borderline possessive, like he was trying to merge the two of you together- because that way he knew you would always be okay. next to him, safe.
you pulled back just enough to rest your forehead against his.
"i'm not going anywhere." you murmured quietly, your fingers playing around with his collar.
"i know, i just," he laughed a little, "i just need to feel it physically,"
he planted kisses along your neck, before lifting himself back up, leaning on his palms that spread either side of your head. your hair tangling in between his fingers.
you were underneath him, so gorgeous and pretty, your neck exposed due to the cut hem of the collar of your tee. he just wanted to take a picture and keep it in his wallet or place it on his car dashboard.
there was a plant of worry that had taken root under your face. he noticed it at once.
"fuck sorry," he brushed his hair back, his hands retreating back, "that sounded intense."
you giggled softly, your thumb tracing down his lip and onto the roughness of his stubbly chin. the contrast made your stomach flip, "it's fine,"
"god, you don't know how long i've wanted to do this,"
"kiss me?" you teased, a little smirk playing at your lips that were coated in his saliva.
a faint smile touched his face, "no, just to sit with you and know that this isn't nothing,"
you peered down between your bodies, how close you are together. heat gathered under your skin, crawling up your neck and onto your cheeks. he caught the flush growing across your face and the drift in your gaze.
"we don't have to go any further-"
"i'm a virgin," you blurted like a stupid fucking idiot.
why would you say that? why on god's green earth would you say that?
he blinked.
"what?" he said, and then gave a look that said: 'i wish i could retract what i just said'. "hey- it's fine. don't say it like it's a warning,"
"i know but i don't want you to think that i know what i'm doing or-"
the two of you sat up, peeling your bodies away, a coldness settling where warmth used to be.
"i'm not here because i expect anything from you," his fingers rubbed your knee, "we can sit in silence if you want or kiss or talk, i don't mind. i just want to be with you," there was a boyish essence in the way he spoke, the way he looked at you.
"do you want to?" you looked up at him and then away again, "you know."
"i want you, but not at the cost of you feeling rushed or you owing me something," he said, his lips pressing together afterwards.
you just wanted to tell him that you wanted your souls to merge together, to just bathe yourself in him, to share your bed with him, to wake up and find yourself tangled with him in your duvet.
"leon," you laughed softly, "haven't you noticed? you're in my house. you know i don't even let people near my desk. let alone my house,"
"that scares me. it's just-" his fingers left your knee.
"i want to. waiting around is too much pressure," you grabbed back his hand and pressing it on your chest.
he huffed, his mouth twitching, "whatever you say," he sat up, patted his lap and softly said, "come here."
author's note: smut next time, teehee. sorry if this isn't as descriptive as my other works,,, edited: part 3 is here
exams are over finally, so i can finally read and draw and will be glued to my notepad and laptop writing away. guys i physically cannot contain my excitement for requiem like i just wake up thinking about it like its christmas, like even my parents know about leon kennedy its that serious.
for those who wanted to be tagged: @happilyjules @xsammijoanneex @axerrri