#leon drabble

“You know she can barely hold her head up, right? She won’t fulfill your wishes,” you answer, smiling as you watch Leon play with your three-month-old. Your husband, who complains that his daughter is growing too fast, is desperate for her to say her first words.

“She’s a smart girl, isn’t she?” he asks before blowing a raspberry on her tummy, earning a giggle from his little girl. Leon can’t help himself before pinching her chubby cheeks. “She’ll be speaking in no time.”

“Say dada, sweetheart. Dada.” He drags out the word, hoping that it’ll incite her to speak. As if the refined motor skill just needs some motivation from dad for it to get going. You let out a low laugh before deciding that you’ll let your husband be.

You never pictured Leon as this type of father. While he made it clear that he was overjoyed, you didn’t expect him to be so loving with the baby. It’s only natural though. And you can say that you’re overjoyed as you discover this new side of Leon. A side only you and your daughter get to see.

“Look she’s about to–” Leon’s eyes widen as she opens her mouth. He’s filled with false hope until he remembers that she loves to put her hands in her mouth. He sighs before he lets out a chuckle. He kisses her cheeks before saying, “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“Honey, she won’t speak any time soon,” you remind him and he shakes his head.

“Don’t listen to mama, love. She doesn’t know just how smart you are,” he says, eyes engrossed with the baby. He looks at her adoringly up until she sneezes– And even then he’s completely enamored. She has the absolutely cutest sneezes. 

leon was the same man you'd known for the past six years. hardened shell, gruff voice, a body worn and rough from years of training and fighting—of surviving, never knowing if he’d even see the next sunrise. the dark circles under his striking blue eyes, the gentle wrinkles that adorned his face, small creases around his mouth and nose showing glimpse of the rare moments where life had given him something worth laughing for.

moments with you.

he never thought he'd experience a love like this, didn't think he was worthy of it—of a dynamic like yours. the kind you'd see in 90's movies where the main couple grows old together, learning every little detail about each other until decades pass and their presence becomes something as familiar as breathing. a love that stays through cold winters, warm and sticky summers, floral springs, and muddy autumns. love that didn't fade with time, but instead grew alongside it, blooming quietly with every passing season.

the kind that made him feel embarrassingly soft and had him getting all gooey inside, blush creeping up the back of his neck before slowly traveling to the apples of his cheeks, grinning so hard his lips would quiver.

when he finally proposed, the ring he slipped onto your finger wasn't extravagant. it didn't need to be. it was thoughtful, carefully chosen, and carried every unspoken promise he struggled to put into words. a promise of every quiet morning, every ordinary day, every tomorrow he was lucky enough to have.

the vows he shared with you would keep you up on random nights, heart still thumping at the thought.

“i spent a long time thinking i wouldn't get a future,” he'd whispered, his thumb brushing gently over your hand as he held back a grin. “but somehow, I found one with you.” his voice trembled slightly, nervous.

“i can't promise that life will always be easy. i can't promise i'll never worry, or that i won't come home exhausted and stubborn…” a small laugh escaped him.

“but i can promise i'll love you through all of it. i want to spend every tomorrow i can get with you.”

"Leon, look at this." You lean over, extending your arm to display the TikTok you'd just found.

Resting against the other arm of the couch was your husband, reading glasses slipping down his nose while his fingers tapped absent-mindedly against the spine of his book. He turned his head in your direction, craning his neck to set up a good angle to read whatever nonsense you were shoving in his face. With a sigh, he set the book down and shifted in place, getting comfortable again. He pulled his head back, furrowed his brows, and squinted at the screen. You couldn't help but let out a laugh.

Immediately, his eyes left the screen and flew to you. After years of marriage and even more dating, he knew when you were laughing at him and not something else.

"What?" He questioned suspiciously. His voice was low and soft, the tone reserved for peaceful Sundays with just the two of you; no work or worries permitted in the calm before another grueling work week. You grinned and shook your head.

"You're just silly, that's all." His mouth twitched but he didn't badger you for a better answer, returning to his position of trying to read the text on the screen you were still holding up. He finally took your phone from you, holding it a considerable distance from his face.

You lifted your now-freed hand and ran your fingers through his gray-streaked hair while admiring his wrinkles—yes, the ones from his dorky phone-viewing frown, but also—from all the years of stress and fear and hopelessness. His shirt rode up a bit, letting you see a sliver of soft tummy between it and his boxers. How lucky you were to have him sprawled on the couch, not a care in the world, looking like a midwestern dad attempting to comprehend whatever it was the cool kids were up to online these days. And, you supposed, he kind of was.

He pulled his reading glasses from his face with one hand, passing back your phone with the other. He did not appear impressed.

"So who is Cheesy Michael and what's the deal with his door? This seems like a waste of time."

Leon was so unbelievably cute.

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞. i have not been locked into writing and i apologize my life has been get high, eat, watch tiktok, think about leon 😅

summary: headcannons with short drabbles about sub!leon

tags/cw: sub!leon . nipple play . body worship . dry humping . overstimulation . use of safe word . coming in pants . mommy kink

notes: boredboredbored!!! will make one for dom!leon in the near future. will probably add to this whenever a new idea pops into my rotting brain. not proofreading any of this so sorry for mistakes!

so you do the only thing that makes sense. his grunts fill your ears as you lap your tongue over the head of his cock. he wakes with a start when you bottom out, taking him all the way to the back of your throat.

his hands are instantly on you. a hand tangled in your hair while the other cradles your cheek. his already deep voice is an octave deeper as he grunts out a “good- fuuck. good morning, sweetheart.”

[RE4 Leon Kennedy x fem!Reader]

Kiss me (drabble)

Notes: I just finished writing the last parts of Cooperative Parenting so RE4 Leon was an obvious first choice. This is kinda Flynn Rider coded, no?

word count: 400 words (short and sweet)

Warnings: none, princess!reader

permanent tag list: @zaddywiththephatty @like-gh0sts-in-sn0w @gabithefanwriter @barryatsumu @xoxomargaret @fondlyfuriousstar @stolengardeni4 @niamh-28

Let me know if you would like to be added to this and notified about all my new works. 🩷

Masterlist

"Who even still puts people in towers?" Leon huffed as he climbed up the rope to rescue you. “That's fucked up.” His arms flexed as he pulled himself up, eventually reaching the window to your room.

You were startled by the appearance of such a handsome man. This must have been the prince you were promised. You smoothed out your hair, deliberately arranging the skirts of your dress, so it looked good on the daybed you were lounging on. 

*not my art*

When Leon's parents died, yours took him in. Your families had already been close friends for years, after all. And besides, your family had a pretty little girl for him to play siblings with.

That's not exactly how it went though. Leon was the grieving outsider your parents brought home.

He never fully stopped feeling like he has to earn his place in the family.

Typical Leon.

So with you, he gives constant presents, he fixes things, he hovers, he worries. Most importantly, he lets you get away with murder.

He thinks he owes your family his life just for loving him. That means his attachment to you becomes frighteningly personal. Brotherly on the outside, protective, approval-seeking, and painfully needy.

On the inside, it was something else entirely. Something he was determined to die with, rather than ruin you.

Meanwhile, you grew up with him. So climbing on him, stealing his shirts, barging into his room, using his cologne, dragging him places, all these things are so very normal to you.

Leon S. Kennedy x Reader

summary: thinking of Leon’s scars (with a little bit of touching).

warnings & contents: fluff; assumed older Leon (more of RE6 and Vendetta, although I keep using ID! to illustrate); could be age gap, could be none; lots of cuddling; mentions of violence (sorta); the reader could be any gender; no mentions of y/n

a/n: a blurb, because I can. As always, proceed at your own risk. Minors DNI! Masterlist xoxo

soundtrack: billie eilish — when the party’s over

***

Leon’s figure was resting on top of the bedsheets, his bare back exposed to one’s curious sight with his features relaxed, while he was catching up on hours of sleep he was deprived of this week; thanks to another one of those excruciating missions. You couldn’t hold back a small smile; he looked so peaceful, lying there with disheveled dirty blonde hair and not a glimpse of worry on his face—something you would die to see more often after everything he has endured.

You were doing your best to stay as quiet as humanly possible so you wouldn’t wake him up when your gaze got drawn to the network of scars, interspersed with moles, scattered across his pale skin. There were a couple of fresh bruises flourishing into purple and yellow blobs, too, adding to a rich picture. You winced like you could feel his pain. You’d never get used to seeing him this way—seeing him hurt.

Your touch was lighter than one of a feather when your fingers slid over one of his scars, tracing its shape slowly, with care. This one seemed to be old, fading away over the years, thus one of the rarest ones—as there were many more those anew, coming in different shapes and shades of pink. It didn’t matter, though, how many of them were on Kennedy’s body—you knew them all, keeping the count.

You pulled your hand away in a swift motion as you felt Leon stir. He was still half-asleep when he opened his eyes a crack, his gaze fixed on your features. You looked guilty.

“Hey,” he muttered hoarsely with a faint smile. He didn’t sound irritated—rather exhausted. “Can’t keep your hands off of me, sweetheart?”

You chuckled softly as you eliminated the distance between the two of you, and then rested your head on the edge of his pillow. His hand immediately wrapped around your waist, pulling you even closer.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to wake you up.” You pressed your lips against his forehead. You kept your voice barely above the whisper, hoping he’d be able to go back to sleep.

He hummed, “It’s okay,” with his eyes almost shut again, as his mind stayed in the half-place between awakeness and dreams. His thumb caressed your side mindlessly, soothing himself down.

You put your hands on his back in a kind of hug, feeling the bumps of his scars under your fingers.

“You have never told me their stories,” you said quietly, cradling him with your touch.

Leon’s body tensed slightly, his face now hidden in the crook of your neck. His warm and even breathing sent shivers down your spine.

The man became silent for a moment, taking his time before he replied, “I don’t believe these are stories that I should make you listen to.”

He preferred not to bring his work home.

You didn’t insist—you have always respected his choices. You left a kiss on his temple while Leon hugged you tighter.

“I’ll listen to anything you’d be willing to tell me, handsome.”

He smiled; you could feel his lips stretching out on the skin of your neck. It wasn’t a trust issue; Kennedy could tell that much—but he needed time to gather the courage to drag you into his waking nightmare.

“Maybe one day, sweetheart,” Leon sighed deeply, his tone calm as he admitted; his eyes now closed. “Maybe one day.”