Feeling like a million bucks

(leon x ingrid) (Kennigan shippers stand up! all 12 of yall!)

tags: hurt/comfort with a lil bit of freak ‘cause old man leon loves a good ass (i stand by that!)

cw: mentions of dead bodies, skeletons, and zombies

word count: 3k

3:54 pm

The black truck rumbles lowly as Leon pulls into the driveway of a cozy home, the quiet of the neighborhood making his shoulders relax for the first time in the past two weeks. Taking the keys out of the ignition before closing his eyes to let the quiet sounds of the neighborhood wash over him, the faint chirps of the birds eating in a nearby bird feeder were slightly muffled through the rolled-up windows. The police scanner in the car momentarily turned off as the DSO decided to give him two weeks off to rest from the mission, which he immediately took without asking twice.

Opening his eyes and looking over at the passenger seat to see the small stack of paper perfectly organized in a manila folder. A small, quiet huff of a laugh escapes him as he looks at the post-it note that’s sticking to the manila folder that reads, ‘Have fun on your break, old man! — Sherry.’ Rolling his eyes as he picks the manila folder off the seat and gets out of the car with it in his left hand. “Old man, huh? Kids these days…” He chuckles to himself as he walks up the steps of the dark blue house, the faint but still slightly vibrant color of the house standing out just a little in the neighborhood but blending in just fine. Rolling his shoulders a bit as he uses his keys to open the front door, quietly closing the door behind him and locking it before he fully steps into the foyer of the house, taking off his shoes and setting them on the small rack near the door, careful to not get any dirt on the newly cleaned wooden floor, and he hangs his jacket up on the coat rack sitting on the wall.

Taking a deep breath through his nose, the smell of jasmine and cedar wood made his body relax as he walked through the foyer with his arms stretched above his head, a few of his joints popping in relief as he was tense the whole drive. “I’m home!” He yawned as he took off his vest and gun holsters, set down the manila folder on the coffee table, and a small smile formed on his face as the sounds of shuffling got closer towards the living room while he crashed onto the soft couch. Taking off his leather gloves with the tip of his teeth, his eyes softly lit up at the sight of Ingrid in a house robe and holding two cups of tea, the steam coming from the cups as her house shoes shuffle against the floor as she moves towards him, a few curls escaping her bonnet while she fully walks into the large living room.

“What? No fanfare? No big celebration?” Leon tilts his head at Ingrid, and he smiles even wider while she sets down the two cups of tea on the coffee table and leans down a bit to kiss him. His hands instinctively move towards her hips as a soft grunt escapes his lips, and he deepens the soft kiss a little longer before reluctantly pulling away with a dramatic sigh when she lightly swats his wrist. “There’s your fanfare, Mr. Kennedy.” She chuckles as she steps over his spread legs to sit down next to him on the couch, his hands lightly grabbing her crossed legs to pull her closer, and he rests her legs on top of his spread thighs. Picking up one of the teacups and giving it to him as she uses her free right hand to lightly comb her fingers through his hair, a quiet moan escapes him as he melts a bit against the plush couch, tilting his head towards her a little more to signal to her to keep going while he takes a sip of the tea.

“Always so touchy, Mr. Kennedy.” Ingrid playfully huffs as she watches him set down the mug on the coffee table and rest his hands on top of her legs, lightly massaging circles against her light-brown skin as he buries his face into the curve of her neck and closes his eyes for a moment. “I can’t help it, darling. My hands sometimes just have a mind of their own.” He lazily mumbles against her neck, the low vibration of his voice against her neck sending a quiet shiver down her spine as she tries to focus on just letting him relax and taking a break. Having been a slight nervous wreck for those two weeks, even though Sherry had kept her updated throughout that whole mission, she deep-cleaned the house a few times to try to keep her mind occupied throughout that time, but nothing seemed to work. She slept in one of his shirts for those two weeks, missing his touch in the morning when he usually accompanied her in the kitchen to help with breakfast, mostly using that as an excuse to keep his arms wrapped around her hips while she tried to maneuver around the kitchen.

4:05 p.m

The comfortable silence fills the room as Leon’s hands continue to massage her legs, her fingers resting in his hair as she quietly sighs and rests her head against his, their breathing synchronizing with each other in the quiet room. “I missed you.” His voice softly breaks the silence as his hands move to gently wrap around her stomach, moving his head away from her neck to gently pull her fully onto his lap, and she sits bridal style in his lap after shifting around a bit to get comfy, turning her head towards him with a soft gaze in her eyes as her right hand moves from his hair and down to the light gray stubble on his face, and she cups his cheek while her eyes never leave his.

“I missed you too, my love.” Ingrid leans her head forward a little, her forehead touching his as she gently rubs circles against his cheek. “I was worried, you know. Sherry told me that she couldn’t reach you for almost two days when you went back to Raccoon City. I was about to call Chris to get a team together to come get you if he hadn’t already; you know I still have those connections.” She lightly chuckles, using every bit of her mental strength to not just fully blurt out her racing thoughts about the whole mission, wanting Leon to talk about it but not trying to push him to talk if he’s not ready.

Leon pulls back just an inch away from her face, his eyebrows furrowing a bit as if he can see the gears in her head starting to turn rapidly while her eyes start to fidget and dart away from his face, smoothly leaning in and kissing her before she could open her mouth to say something. Quickly shutting down whatever she was about to blurt out, a small, surprised-like whine softly escaping her lips as he pulls away from the kiss and looks deeply into her eyes. “Hey, I’m okay. I can talk about it.” He murmurs as his hands lightly squeeze her sides, pulling her closer out of habit even though the space between them is already nonexistent. Her eyes never leave him as he leans his head back against the couch and takes a long, deep breath before exhaling slowly. Trying to get his thoughts together to not freak her out and make her worry too much.

“Yeah, going back to Raccoon City felt… different. It was a ghost town, but the skeletons were still there, watching. The memories, the voices, they all seemed to come back tenfold.” He mutters, his eyes still closed, and his hands squeeze her sides just a tad bit tighter, trying to keep himself grounded and stop the memories from flooding back into his mind, her hands moving away from his face to rest on his chest. He spent the whole ride home in silence earlier, the memories of that night overflowing in his mind: the horrors, the panicked screams, having to kill some of the other officers as they turned into zombies right in front of his eyes. Finding Lt. Branagh’s body again, his skeleton still sitting in the exact same spot he got killed, replayed again and again in his head during the car ride home.

Ingrid feels his body shudder a bit as he momentarily gets lost in his thoughts, saying nothing as she simply tilts his head to make his head rest on her shoulder, moving her left hand to grab his. Quietly noticing the infection on his hand isn’t there anymore, mentally storing away her million questions about it for later while she keeps her attention solely on him and starts to gently squeeze his hand to let him know that she’s still here and that they’re safe. Giving him time to quiet his thoughts and refocus as he squeezes her hand back to let her know that he can still sense her through the slight fog slowly billowing through his mind.

He finally opens his eyes after a long period of silence, his head still resting on her shoulder as he stares at nothing in particular. “You know, Grace, that kid…. She was just like me when I was a rookie, scared, confused, wanting to do right and save as many people as possible. When she thought she couldn’t save Emily, I could see it in her eyes.”

He takes a pause to swallow a gasp, his throat starting to feel tight and rough, but he forces himself to continue. “The hurt, the guilt, thinking that she failed the only person she fought so hard to protect. It was like watching Emma and her dad all over again. Knowing that their bodies are still there, lying there as skeletons, it’s just…” His hands move to fully wrap around Ingrid as his body trembles a bit more, his breathing starting to shallow as he tries his best to calm himself down, his blue eyes turning blurry as his peripheral vision begins to fade.

Her hands immediately move upwards and make him lift his head up off her shoulder, and she cups his face so he can look at her, her thumbs tracing circles against his cheeks slowly as she looks deeply into his eyes. “Deep breaths, my love, deep breaths.” Her voice cutting through the fog in his brain as he follows her movements and starts to take slow, deep breaths. His racing heartbeat started to slow down, and he fully leaned into her touch, his face sitting snug in her hands as he studied her face to grind his thoughts to a halt. Ingrid’s soft voice had been a soothing balm for his brain ever since he first talked to her on his mission in Spain, convinced he believed in love at first sight when she first video-called him without her glasses on.

His body relaxes as she kisses his forehead, and his eyes flutter closed to bask in her warmth. Finally gaining the strength to speak, he keeps his eyes closed as he sighs, “I’m sorry, hon; it seems like the memories must’ve gotten to me again. I swear I thought I had it under control.” His eyes slowly open, and he gives her a weak smile, trying to play it off as best as he can, but she knows him too well and simply raises her right eyebrow at him. Crumbling all his defenses immediately, he traces hearts on her lower back with his fingertips, her hands still cupping his face as he finally continues his thoughts. “But Grace is a tough kid; she never gave up, she fought through hell, and she was even smarter than me when it came to that whole Elpis stuff. She’s got a bright future ahead of her in the FBI; I just hope she knows to stick to her guns if it ever gets shady.”

Ingrid nods as she listens to him, letting his words soak in the atmosphere of the living room for a moment as he bites the inside of his cheek nervously, afraid that he said too much and got too lost in his mind again, and he tries to look away from her, but she stops him and gently grips his chin. Pulling him into a soft kiss that immediately makes his brain malfunction, he completely melts into her grasp as he instantly deepens the kiss as much as he can. The kiss effectively shuts him up and gives his brain a well-deserved break from the horrors that were plaguing his mind, a small, displeased noise leaving his lips as she pulls away from the kiss and looks at him, his head instinctively leaning forward a little bit to try to savor the soft feeling of her lips, causing her to giggle a bit at the small wounded puppy look he’s trying his best to muster up.

“Leon.” “Just a little longer?” He dramatically pleads as he tries to lean closer towards her face, but she moves her hand from his chin and places her hand over his mouth to stop him. “Aht! Aht! Let me talk first, okay?” He slowly nods his head as he looks at her, a part of him feeling a bit defeated that she won’t kiss him, but he understandably abides by her wishes. She smiles softly as she moves her hand away from his mouth and gently cups his chin. “I know you’re worried about Grace, but if she’s anything like you, she’s going to be the best in her field; she’ll give people hope and make them proud. Just like you. You give people hope that they can actually believe in, and I’m so proud of you for that. I will FOREVER be proud of you every single day.” She gently squeezes his chin as his gaze softens, a small tear unconsciously rolling down his left cheek, and she uses her thumb to wipe it away gently.

4:25 pm

Leon looks away for a moment, gazing at nothing in particular before landing on a framed picture of him and Ingrid at Claire and Ada’s wedding a decade ago. The picture captures her pulling him into a kiss while he has her glasses in his hand and is holding them above her so she couldn’t reach them. A vivid memory that’ll stay with him forever is that throughout that whole night, they playfully bickered over whether her glasses matched her dress, and he repeatedly told her that she looked more beautiful without them, but she didn’t believe him, and he took her glasses to try to show her how pretty she truly was, not expecting her to kiss him to get them back, simultaneously getting the wedding photographer’s attention enough to take a picture of them. Perfectly capturing the red immediately forming in his cheeks on his already flushed face, as he was tipsy that night too.

He stares at the picture for a little longer as it’s sitting on the coffee table, noting how young they looked in the picture, a part of him missing their youth as he’s still not used to the gray hairs now appearing in his stubble and hair, and how some of his joints now lightly pop when he simply gets up from the couch. He still secretly hates getting older, but then he gazes back over at Ingrid, taking in every detail of her face, the small wrinkles on the corners of her eyes, the small marks on her nose from when she sometimes falls asleep with her glasses still on, the light gray starting to peek through her dark curls, and he can’t help but fall in love all over again. Likewise, he never thought he’d be alive for this long to see himself grow old with someone so beautiful, but he’s glad he did, and he wouldn’t change it for the world.

“You look amazing right now, babe. Have I ever told you how pretty you look in your bonnet?” Leon croons, absolutely not paying attention to what Ingrid is saying, as his brain is now on how much he missed her for those two weeks. His hands unconsciously roaming all over her body, his left hand rubbing on her thighs and his right hand rubbing her lower back, he quickly jolts out of his thoughts when she roughy tugs on his earlobe and gives her a sheepish smile. “Okay! Okay! I’m listening, hon, I promise.” He dramatically rubs his earlobe, which causes her to laugh and roll her eyes at him while simultaneously shifting around in his lap to fully straddle him and face him. Her house robe riding up against her thighs and exposing a bit more of her legs as she’s only wearing one of his shirts underneath the robe, his eyes immediately pan down to her legs before quickly looking back up at her face, trying his best to focus, but his brain is now wired to wanting one thing: Her. All of her.

Ingrid mentally takes note of how hard he’s trying to not stare at her thighs while she’s straddling his lap, deciding to mess with him a little by subtly shifting her thighs to make her robe ride up a bit higher, exposing her inner thighs to his already struggling gaze as she clears her throat a bit to feign innocence. “Now, Mr. Kennedy, Sherry told me that Elpis was some sort of cure for the T-Virus and that you took one of the vials without even knowing that at all. To which, I could scold you for just taking random things that folks give you, but…” She looks down at his left hand, her thumb slowly tracing the back of his hand as she lifts his hand up to fully look at it. “It does seem to be working well, though; the spread is gone, so I guess you’re off the hook this time.”

A sly smile forms on his face as he looks at her, his hands going back to resting on top of her thighs, and he traces hearts on her light-brown skin with the tips of his fingers. “Good, ‘cause whatever was in that vial has me feeling spry and strong again. Almost like I’m back in my 20s.” He lifts his right arm and flexes it, his tight shirt accentuating his muscles a little more, and he watches her eyes dart to his arm, her eyes slowly tracing the outline of his muscles that’s visible through the shirt while his eyes wander back down towards her thighs and his hands start to move.

“In fact…” His hands move down to her ass, her silk house robe covering what he really wants to squeeze, but the fabric doesn’t seem to make that much of a difference to him as his hands simply slip underneath the robe to palm her ass, as it’s his favorite part of her that he can’t get enough of. Leon never thought he’d be such a greedy man, but when he’s with Ingrid…. Plutus and Mammon seem like mere mortals compared to how he’s addicted to her; they’ve had to thicken the walls of the house for the sake of their neighbors so that they couldn’t hear him whimper for the 400th time whenever she tries to move his face away from her trembling thighs in order for her to catch her breath after eating her out for three hours straight when they first got together.

His addiction to her was strong back then, and it’s gotten even stronger now. Chris would call him pathetic right in this moment if he could see him now… And he’d wear it like a badge of honor.

Leaning towards her ear, his lips brushing her ear as the low rumble of his voice makes her body shiver. “How about I put this new strength to the test, Mrs. Kennedy?” a small, devilish smile appears on Ingrid’s lips as she tilts her head away from him. “Hmm… I don’t know… You know I have to start prepping the kitchen, I’m thinking about making your favorite tonight….” She teasingly slides off his lap, turning her back towards him and she starts to untie the house robe while she walks out of the living room. The sound of Leon’s footsteps quickly following behind her as she lets the robe fall from her shoulders and land on the hardwood floor in the small hallway leading to the kitchen, revealing that she’s wearing one his shirts that’s barely covering her ass with the lace of her lingerie panties hanging lowly from her hips. Her eyes catching the clock in the hallway that reads 4:54 pm, almost time to usually start prepping the kitchen to make dinner.

Tomodachi Life is writing fanfiction before my eyes