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creator1mpersonator · 3 days ago

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The Rescue Mission

03. Up and Down and Around

No use of Y/N, reader nearly dies like 50 times, some cursing, Leon is himself

The two of you peeked outside the fence. There were a lot of villagers wandering about the bridges and platforms.

“Got any ideas?” You asked him in a low voice.

“There’s a gate on the other side,” Leon said, “I say we get rid of as many hostiles as possible and make it over.”

“The door’s got some kind of keyhole, we’re gonna need something.” You added, and Leon groaned.

“We can’t just stay here, either.” You said, “I’ll take the front, you take the back.”

Leon looked like he had more to say, but he bit his tongue. You nodded, pushing the gates open.

“¡Foresteros!” One of the villagers yelled, alerting the rest. You ran ahead, sliding on your knees to slice at his kneecaps and as he fell, Leon shot at his chest before kicking him off the bridge. You continued, narrowly dodging a Molotov cocktail and shooting the next one thrown with your pistol, causing the villagers in the vicinity to go down.

But it felt like for every villager that fell, two more took their place. It was becoming an ambush, and ammo was fleeting.

“The treasure chests!” You exclaimed, “go for the chest by the house, I’ll get the one over here!”

“What will a chest do?” He asked.

“It’ll have what we need to open the gate, now go!” You yelled, before running up and jumping over sandbags. The hoard split up, some going after Leon and some slowly chasing you. You used one of your last bullets to fire at the gas canister, making it explode. That’ll take care of them.

You opened the chest, finding the right side of the emblem you’d been seeing everywhere. You heard a whistle, and you looked over your shoulder to find that Leon had obtained the left side.

You jumped down from where you were, running across the bridge and kicking whatever villager was in your way. You met up with Leon, putting the pieces together in the keyhole before opening the gate. More villagers were approaching, but the doors slammed shut behind the two of you.

“Good thing they’re slow.” You commented, trying to catch your breath. It was all quiet again, save for the wind. You rubbed your arms, trying to warm up.

“Cold?” Leon asked, noticing your behavior.

“A little. We’re high up,” you said, “but I’ll be okay—“

You fell silent when Leon took off his brown sheepskin jacket, placing it over your shoulders.

“...You don’t have to do that.” You said.

“You don’t accept things easily, do you?” Leon responded, ignoring your protests as he walked forward. You pulled his jacket on and followed close behind. The two of you walked quietly, breaking a few barrels and finding some ammo and green herbs. Leon opened the next gate, which led you into some kind of building. You could see a Venetian Mask on display behind some broken bars. You and Leon wandered in, until three villagers began moving towards you. Though Leon took care of them easily, being in front and all.

You continued on, dealing with a few more hostile villagers before you grabbed the mask (“you never know,” you told Leon) and left the building. It led into an underground water deposit, and you made a face when Leon jumped down into the water.

“That water’s disgusting.” You said, standing on the platform and watching as Leon waded around in the murky water.

“Yeah, but look—“ he held up a little red box, “I found ammo.”

“How??” You exclaimed. He shrugged with a grin. He then climbed back up the ladder, and the two of you left. You were now above ground, feeling the sunlight upon your skin. More or less, it was pretty cloudy.

The two of you continued on the path in silence.

“Shit!” You suddenly exclaimed, stepping back just in time before the bear trap snapped closed on your calf.

“You okay?” Leon asked, immediately at your side with a hand around your elbow. You nodded, shaking his hand off while muttering something about how well the villagers hid their traps.

You and Leon moved forward, carefully walking into an old, run-down house. You went up the stairs, finding a door with a teal crystal ball as its lock.

“Looks like it rotates.” You observed it before testing your theory. It did rotate, and after a few tries, you displayed the emblem you had been seeing everywhere here. The door opened, leading into a bedroom.

There was a bed, a bookshelf, a desk, and two portraits of a somewhat elderly man with pale skin, sunken eyes, and a purple cloak. There wasn’t much to take in, though Leon found a key. On the bed was a sheet of red paper entitled Chief’s Note. Likely the same chief who wrote the memo about Leon you found back in the village.

You read it out loud. It spoke of his confusion about keeping Leon alive, so it was written before you had shown up here. The chief also mentioned Luis and how there could be a third party at play in the area. He finished by stating his complete devotion to one Lord Saddler.

You pocketed the note as well before pushing the door next to the bookshelf open. You heard two people speaking in Spanish, although it was muffled. You slowly entered the hallway, finding two portraits— one of the tall, bearded man from before and one of the cloaked man. The people speaking mentioned something called Las Plagas. As you turned around to talk to Leon, you found the bearded man who wasted no time grabbing you by your neck.

“___!” Leon yelled, pointing his pistol at the man. You choked, legs flailing and hands scratching at the bearded man’s thick wrists. In your fight for air, you didn’t notice how he observed Leon closely, seeing a flash of bright red in Leon’s cloudy blue eyes. The bearded man finally let you go, tossing you away. Leon ended up being the one breaking your fall as you landed on him. His pistol slipped from his hands, clattering on the hardwood floor.

“It appears you carry the same blood as us,” the man said to Leon as you coughed, “but regardless, the two of you are outsiders. If you become unpleasant to our eyes, we will dispose of your friend and then you.” The man walked into the bedroom, the door closing behind him. Neither of you pursued.

“Same… blood..?” You said between excessive inhales, “What is he talking about?”

Leon didn’t answer, still stuck underneath you with his hands on your shoulders. You rolled off of him, extending a hand to help him get up. He took it, standing up.

“Thanks for breaking my fall.” You said, and Leon nodded. You were half-expecting some corny, witty comment about you being heavy, but Leon didn’t speak. Your transmitter beeped, and you turned away without noticing the light flush of pink on Leon’s pale cheeks.

“Leon, ___,” Hunnigan spoke. “We got some new intel that could help you out.”

“Fill us in,” you said.

“There’s a religious cult involved there, they call themselves Los Illuminados.”

“That's a mouthful.” Leon finally spoke. “We also had a run-in with the head honcho of this village. He could’ve killed ___, but he let them live. He also said I had the same blood as them, whatever that means.”

“Thats… interesting.” Hunnigan said, “but we have bigger fish to fry. Find that church.”

“Copy that.” You said, before ending the transmission.

The two of you left the house, heading down the path leading towards El Pueblo. The village was empty, no villagers came out from their hiding spots with mal intent. The Sun was beginning to set now, and you hadn’t slept since you arrived. You assumed the same for Leon

“We should set up camp.” You spoke, hands in the pockets of his jacket, “I haven’t slept for like, two days. I doubt you have either.”

Leon nodded, “Yeah, ‘been sluggish lately. Should we take shifts?”

“Sounds good. I’ll watch, and you sleep.”

“Not happening,” Leon said almost immediately.

“Excuse me?”

“I’ll take the first shift.”

“You’ve been here longer than I have; you need to sleep more than I do.”

“And you’re here to rescue me, right? Can’t do that if you’re tired and your aim’s shit.”

“I’m more so here for Ashley than I am for you. You’re still alive, aren’t you?”

“Whatever makes you feel better.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“I’m amazing.”

You rolled your eyes.

“I thought you didn’t need rescuing.” You said, mocking his words from earlier.

“That was before I saw how cute you were.” Leon winked, making you groan.

“Your pick up lines fucking suck.”

“Sticks and stones, gorgeous. You’re still gonna sleep first.”

“But—“ you sighed, “fine.”

The two of you made shelter in the two story house you got ambushed in before. It was quiet, the windows still broken, but at least there was a bed. You laid down on the tough mattress, placing Leon’s jacket on you because you were very much worried the blanket would give you an infection.

It took a lot of tossing and turning, but you eventually fell asleep. Leon stood at the foot of your bed, watching.

He doesn’t understand how you’ve enraptured him so. He should be insulted, did the D.S.O think he was a fool? Sending one of their best, too, like he needed a babysitter.

And yet, when he saw you, those thoughts suddenly went quiet. You were headstrong, straight to the point, but it wasn’t like you were lame and stoic. You had a personality, which was more than any of the D.S.O. drones had. You always seemed to know what to do, like with the treasure chests.

Who knows, maybe you could get dinner together once you escaped this hellhole.

Leon let you sleep for a while, but his sentiments got the best of him and he crawled into bed next to you. This was so unlike him, to be so stupid.

And Leon knew he did something stupid, because you were missing when he woke up.

#fic: the rescue mission #effiewrites #yandere leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy #x gn reader #yandere x reader #x reader #yandere resident evil #re4 leon #re4 #resident evil 4 #fanfiction #yandere fanfiction

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creator1mpersonator · 3 days ago

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Haven't been able to draw as much recently but I miss chreon so much

(The inspo😭)

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creator1mpersonator · 3 days ago

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sad beautiful tragic | leon kennedy

❝ kiss me, try to fix it. could you just try to listen? ❞

info re6 leon x female reader. i wanna say reader is like helena's age maybe? it doesn't really matter. established relationship. very angsty with a bittersweet ending. leon's a mess ok but he swears he loves you. mentions of alcohol consumption/alcoholism. sfw, spare for a handful of somber, desperate kisses.

notes i don't listen to taylor like i did when i was thirteen but this song is so ugh. reblogs & comments are always appreciated. <3

word count 3.9k | ao3 link

You’d tried to fix him, as if stitching together the frayed edges of his soul could silence the storm inside him. But every attempt only left you more hollow, more desperate. His misery seeped into your home like an uninvited guest, a shadow that devoured the light, eroding the fragile moments you used to call happiness. Leon had become a ghost of the man you’d fallen for—present in body but distant, unreachable, and haunting in his silence.

The walls between you grew thicker with every passing day. Words, once tender and easy, had become brittle and sharp. No matter how far you reached, his touch always seemed just out of grasp, his warmth slipping further from your fingertips.

Your mother always said: never give more love than you receive. But she’d never prepared you for how impossible that would feel when the person you loved most was unraveling before your eyes. The weight of it all dragged you to new lows, a kind of emotional exhaustion that made your chest ache and your mind wonder when the dam would finally break—when you’d either stop loving him or lose yourself entirely.

The rain pattered insistently against the windows, the occasional rumble of thunder shaking the silence. When the front door clicked open, your heart jolted despite yourself. His heavy footsteps echoed in the stillness, as familiar as they were foreboding. You tried to focus on the book in your hands, but the words blurred, forgotten the second they hit your mind.

You didn’t need to look up to know. The way the air shifted, the subtle tension of his presence—it was Leon. You could already feel it, the simmering frustration he carried like a second skin.

Figures.

His keys clattered onto the console table, a metallic sound that cut through the quiet like an accusation. His bag followed with a dull thud, then the sigh—low, heavy, resigned. You looked up in time to catch the way his hair clung to his rain-soaked face, his boots kicked off haphazardly by the door.

For a fleeting moment, his eyes met yours, and you thought—hoped—he might smile. But he didn’t. Of course he didn’t. He couldn't even be bothered to spare you, his sweet girlfriend, a single glance.

“You’re home,” you murmured, stepping cautiously closer, your voice barely louder than the rain.

Leon hesitated, his lips parting as if to speak, but no sound came. The silence was a knife, sharp and cold, carving through the fragile hope you hadn’t yet managed to smother.

He flinched when you reached for his arm. That hurt most of all.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” he said, his voice rough and distant, as if it was a chore.

“You didn’t,” you replied softly. “I couldn’t sleep. Not until I knew you were okay.”

His jaw tightened imperceptibly, baby blue eyes darting away in shame. Leon didn't want you to see how tired he looked, how the weight of his missions—or maybe the weight of everything—had stretched him thin.

"Is everything—"

"I'm fine." The words came too quickly, too curt. They were meant to end the conversation, but all they did was light a fresh spark of frustration in your chest. He brushed past you, his worn leather jacket hitting the floor with a heavy thud.

You picked it up with a quiet sigh, hanging it on the coat rack as if that small act of care might bridge the growing chasm between you. "You don't look fine," you said, keeping your tone gentle, almost cautious. Talking to your boyfriend shouldn't feel like tip-toeing around glass. Was it so wrong to be concerned about the man you loved so hopelessly?

Leon didn't answer. He collapsed onto the edge of couch, his elbows on his knees, calloused hands running through his semi-damp hair. His silence, albeit suffocating, spoke louder than words—another wall, another barrier he so intricately placed between the two of you.

"Leon," you tried again, siting beside him, voice trembling with the heavy load of everything you wanted to say. Trying to get a single, meaningful sentence out of Leon these days felt like pulling teeth. "Please, just talk to me."

"There's nothing to talk about." His tone was clipped, but underneath the surface, you heard the slight crack, the exhaustion bleeding through the cracks. You could see it in the way Leon's eyes were half-lidded, the way he pinched the bridge of his nose, his fingers digging into his eyelids. The exasperated sigh he let out was the cherry on top.

You replied softly, equally as exhausted, "I'm not an idiot."

Finally, Leon snapped, like a rubber band pulled taut, "Why do you always have to push?" His tone was sharp enough to make you flinch—and you did. Regret flickered in his eyes almost instantly, but it wasn't enough to stop the sting. The slap had already been left on your poor cheek.

Why do you always have to push? His words repeat over and over again in your mind, like a broken record.

That wasn't fair, you always gave Leon the space he deserved after his long, taxing missions, but tonight you were struggling to stay afloat. It wasn't fair to you, constantly playing nice even when he showed zero signs of changing any time soon. He had to realize that this wouldn't slide, not anymore.

And as much as it troubled your lovesick heart, if Leon wasn't willing to let you in, then he wasn't ready for a relationship. A healthy one, at least.

"Because I love you!" you cried, the words bursting out before you could stop them, raw and desperate. "Because I'm here, Leon, and I'm fucking trying, but you just won't let me in, no matter how hard I try. You just—" You stopped, swallowing thickly, trying to steady your cracking voice. "Y-You just keep shutting me out like I'm some stranger you couldn't give a damn about."

His shoulders sagged, the fight draining out of him just as quickly as it had been triggered. Leon looked at you then, really looked, and for a moment, you thought he might finally say what you needed—no, deserved—to hear. But instead, he shook his head, sullen gaze falling to the carpeted floor.

"You don't get it." he said, barely above a whisper. "You couldn't."

Honestly, you'd prefer if Leon had kept his mouth shut. Not a single word of reassurance, or an I love you too, baby. The sickening, heavy weight of his cruel sentiment settled deep in your bones, nearly rattling you in place.

"That's not fair," you bit down on your bottom lip, a poor attempt at keeping your composure. "Maybe I don't understand everything you've been through, but I'm here for you because I love you," pathetic, so pathetic, "and I want to help. Why won't you let me? Why do you insist on wallowing in your own misery?"

Leon stood abruptly, his movements sharp, restless. "Because it's not that simple." Just the way he said that made you feel stupid. His hands clenched into fists at his sides. "Every time I leave, I don't know if I'll come back," he stared directly at you, burning holes into your own eyes, "And when I do, I'm not the same. I can't give you what you want. I don't know how."

Tears dewed your lash line, "Then learn," you pleaded, standing up and grabbing ahold of his hand. "If you love me, if you really care...then try. That's all I want." If only he knew how much it killed you to watch him fall apart while he kept you at an arm's length.

With a sharp sigh, he scowled, "I am trying," his tone was terse, cold. "Can't you see that? Can't you see how hard it is for me to come home and pretend everything's okay when it's really not?" Leon scoffed in disbelief. Fucking fantastic. After a barely surviving a demanding mission that sucked the soul out of him, now he was arguing with his girlfriend that didn't have the slightest idea of the things he witnessed.

The look of pure anguish on your pretty face tugged at Leon's heartstrings. The little pout, most of all. Poor you looked so shaken up, unable to utter a single word in response. "You deserve someone who can give you something better than this, baby." He freed his hand from your grasp, and brought it up to your cheek, his thumb stroking over the soft skin. You leaned into his touch instinctively.

But you still relented, "You don't get to decide that for me, Leon. You don't get to push me away because you think it's easier." Your hand clasped over his, moving it away from your cheek and back down to his side. His lips part.

“Is this about her?” you then asked, the bitterness oozing into your gentle tone before you could stop it.

As if his night couldn't get any worse...He knew exactly who you were talking about, and it made his blood boil.

Leon blinked, his brows furrowing. "What?"

Feigning ignorance. Classic. An insult to your intelligence, really.

“Ada.” You hated the salty way the name tasted on your tongue. “Is that why you’re like this? Because she’s still in your head? Or because you think I’ll never measure up to her?”

You didn’t need Leon to answer that; the thought alone was enough to unravel you. Ada was everything you weren’t—dangerous, intoxicating, unattainable. She moved through the world like she owned it, all sharp smiles and quiet confidence, the kind of woman who left destruction in her wake but made you thank her for it anyway.

She didn’t ask for love; she demanded it, consumed it, leaving no room for doubt or hesitation. How could you, with your soft edges and wide-open heart, ever hope to compare? You weren’t a storm—just the aftermath, picking up the pieces she’d shattered. If anything, you felt like some naïve, wide-eyed child who had no perception of the real world—you could never hold a candle to her.

Leon's face twisted, a flicker of anger lighting his tired eyes. "Don't even go there," he seethed, "This has nothing to do with her. This is about me, and my problems." Funny how he'd gotten so defensive all of a sudden.

"Isn't it, though?" you challenged, matching his tone. "Because it feels like I've been fighting ghosts since the moment we met. I don't— I don't even know if you're really here with me, or if part of you is still chasing after her."

You got him there. "That's not fair," Leon said, his voice low but icy. He wasn't outright denying anything, much to your dismay. Nausea churned in your stomach at the thought him truly still loving her. The fact that you couldn't even blame him either made it all the more painful.

"Fair?" you echoed, frustration coursing hotly through your veins. "No, you know what isn't fair, Leon? Loving someone who's too scared to let me in. Someone who would rather run far, far away from me than let their guard down." It was getting harder and harder to suppress your tears, and Leon noticed.

God, Leon felt so sick. How the fuck was he supposed to fix this now?

Before he got the chance to say something in response—as if he had anything to say—you continued your siege, "You don't get to keep doing this. You don't get to keep pushing me away and shutting me out and then expecting me to stay with open arms." And legs.

His lips parted, but whatever words he had to say succumbed to their death, strangling his throat, before they could even reach you. A single tear rolled down your cheek, finally slipping free.

"I can't do this right now." you whimpered, shaking your head in disbelief and backing away from him.

"Wait—" But you were already retreating towards your shared bedroom, the door clicking shut behind you, quiet but final. Leon stood frozen in the middle of the dimly lit living room, staring at the empty space where you had been pouring your heart just moments ago.

And you were gone. Out of sight, but the sound of your sobs and cries echoed throughout the small apartment.

Leon ran a shaky hand through his hair, letting out a shuddering breath. He felt deflated, even more drained and tired than he initially had when he first stepped through the front door. The storm outside raged on, thunder rumbling in the distance, but the silence that enveloped the place felt heavier. Suffocating.

His gaze drifted towards the kitchen, eyeing a specific cabinet. Leon knew he shouldn't—knew you hated it when he turned to the bottle instead of you—but the ache in his chest was unbearable.

He needed something, anything, to dull the edges of his agonizing guilt.

His hands still trembled as he poured a glass of whiskey, the amber liquid catching the faint glow of the lamp. Leon stared at it for a long moment, trying to find the strength to resist—and he almost did, almost poured the poison down the drain.

But then, like always, he brought the glass up to his lips, and took a slow, deliberate sip, swallowing it down neat. The burn was familiar, grounding, but it did little to quell the thoughts racing through his mind. He'd never felt so pathetic, so miserable in his entire life.

You deserved better than this. Better than him.

"I've been fighting ghosts since the moment we met."

You were right. Damn it, you were right. Leon had been so caught up in his own head, caught in a quicksand of despair, that he didn't even realize he was doing exactly what he feared most—dragging you into his own mess. He was tearing you apart at the seams, stitch by stitch, without even realizing it.

That wasn't even the half of it, though. Ada. He hated that her name had come up, hated that she still lingered like a dark, looming shadow, haunting the spaces between you with a coy smile on her red lips. But the thing is, you weren't her. You weren't some fleeting, elusive dream. You were real, here, and you loved him despite all the reasons he thought you shouldn't.

The drink wasn't helping. If anything, it only heightened the feelings of remorse. With a frustrated sigh, Leon set the empty glass down with a thud, and scrubbed a calloused hand over his face. He decided doing some paperwork might do a better job at keeping his mind off things.

Fast forward an hour, and it in fact, had not helped him. Not even in the slightest. He groaned, slumping over his desk and burying his face in his hands, an air of weariness surrounding him like a thick, stormy cloud. Leon sat in the quiet, the weight of his own thoughts pressing down on him until he couldn't take it anymore. He stood up from his swivel chair, and head straight over to the sweetest girl he knew.

His steps were slow and prudent, as if each step towards the bedroom door was a battle in itself, a march to the guillotine. Leon hesitated, his hand hovering over the doorknob, before swallowing his pride and finally knocking softly.

"...It's me, baby." Who else would it be? He mentally chastised himself for sounding so pitiful. "Can I come in?"

There was a long beat of silence from your end. Leon almost thought you might not answer. He wouldn't be mad if you didn't. But then came your precious voice, muffled and tired. "The door's not locked."

Cautiously, Leon pushed it open, his heart was pounding in the confines of his chest—like he'd drunk an entire pot of coffee—as he stepped inside the bedroom. You were sitting on the floor cross-legged, back against the foot of your bed. Your arms were wrapped around your body, as if you were holding yourself together, afraid of collapsing like a house of cards caught in a gust of wind.

Christ, the sight nearly tore Leon apart; he couldn't even begin to imagine how you were feeling.

"Hey, sweet thing," he said softly, unsure of where to begin. He strode towards you, kneeling down to your level, and brought a hand up to stroke your tear-stained cheek. You grimaced. "I...I wanted to talk. Apologize."

You, however, didn't say anything in response, didn't lean into his touch like you always did. You even refused to meet his gaze, unsurprisingly. It hurt Leon nonetheless, but at least you weren't frantically kicking him out. He took that as permission to continue.

"I'm sorry," his voice was thick with remorse and shame, "For what I said earlier. For...everything, really. I didn't mean any of it."

"You didn't mean it, or you didn't mean to say it out loud." Ouch.

Leon winced, the words hitting him harder than he expected, like a bitch slap right across the face. "I didn't mean to hurt you," he pleaded, "Jesus, I could never. I was—" he stopped himself, running a hand through his sandy blonde hair. "I've been an ass. Taking all my shit out on you when you've done nothing but try to help me."

Finally, your bloodshot eyes meet his, sharp but wounded. "You think an apology fixes this? Think it erases the way you've been shutting me out, making me feel like I'm not enough for you?" you hissed bitterly, swatting his hand away from your face like an obnoxious mosquito. Leon swallowed thickly, backing up a bit.

"No, of course not," he shook his head. "I know it doesn't. I just...I just don't know how to do this."

"Do what?" you asked. "Let someone love you?"

"Yeah," Leon admitted, feeling like an open wound. "That. Letting someone in, it...it scares me, baby. I can't help it."

You stared at him for a long moment. He could see the war in your eyes—the hurt battling against the love you still hopelessly felt for him. "I don't need you to be perfect, Leon. I just need you to try. To meet me halfway." It was the least he could, wasn't it?

"I want to. I will. I just...I need you to know that I love you, even when I'm too much of a coward to show it. I love you. And I'm sorry for making you feel like that isn't true."

For a fraction of a second, Leon thought he'd won you over, mended your shattered heart, and that things would go back to normal, like when you first started seeing each other. However, that hope crumbled the moment you didn't kiss him back, his chapped lips lingering awkwardly over yours. He pulled away in shame.

"No, Leon." You wiped at your eyes, frustrated by the tears you couldn't hold back, streaming hotly down your cheeks. "You don't get to say you're sorry and just expect me to forget how much this has been hurting me." The lovelorn, sick part of you just wanted to accept his semi-sincere apology and move on with your life, but the more self-respecting half had overpowered that desire.

"You kiss me, try to fix it. But you never listen." you swallowed hard, taking a moment to gather your restless thoughts. "Don't tell me you're scared, or that you're broken, or whatever excuse you think I'm going to forgive this time. Because I know you're hurting, Leon. I know you've been through hell. But I'm here," your voice cracked, embarrassment crawling up your neck, "I always have been."

"Just please...stop making me feel so fucking stupid for staying. Like I'm wasting my time loving someone who doesn't even want to be loved."

Leon didn't even know what to say in response to that. His mouth dried uncomfortably, paralyzed by the impact of your desperate words. Again, like always, you were right. He didn't have a single thing to defend himself, because he really was in the wrong, trapped in a mire of hopelessness. It was oozing its dirty self into his relationship, tainting the one good thing he had in his godforsaken life.

So, he could only whisper, "You're right." His arms wrapped around your frame, caging you in effectively. You didn't protest against his embrace, making the most of the warmth and comfort it spread through your frigid bones. "I am so, so sorry," he mumbled, his hand cradling the back of your head, holding you close to his chest.

"I need you, sweetheart, more than I've needed anyone. You're the light of my fucking life, I just...I don't know how to be the man you deserve." Leon pressed desperate, frantic kisses against your forehead, then to your cheeks, tasting your salty tears on his lips.

"But I'll try, for you. I swear to God, I'll try." The crack in his voice was unmistakable. It tore you to shreds.

Against your better judgment, against all the hurt and anger that simmered beneath the surface, you pulled back a bit, enough to see the forlorn, crestfallen look that etched itself into Leon's jaded features, then to notice your tears that had stained his t-shirt. You bit the corner of your lip, a feeble attempt at suppressing your sobs, you then leaned in, lips capturing his in a kiss that was neither soft nor forgiving.

It was desperate, messy, and filled with everything the two of you couldn't say. All the love, the pain, the hope you somehow hadn't given up on yet. His tongue slipped past the crack of your lips, hands roughly gripping onto your thighs and coaxing you onto his lap, your legs wrapping around his waist. Teeth clicked against one another, noses bumping into the other's cheek, foreheads pressed tightly. His stubble scratched your soft skin deliciously.

"You're all I have left," Leon murmured breathlessly between kisses, his voice thick with a maelstrom of emotions, the rawness of his confession hanging heavily in the charged air. His hands smoothed up your figure, finding purchase in your hair as he pulled you closer; he thought you might vanish if he let go, even for a moment.

You melted against him, like butter, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, trying to tether yourself to this moment—to him. Leon's lips tasted of something bittersweet—maybe cinnamon—the kiss holding a desperation that bordered on aching, as if he was trying to pour every unspoken apology and feeling into it.

A single tear rolled down Leon's flushed cheeks as you pulled away for air, forehead resting against his. His breath was warm against your lips, a sign he was real and right next to you. That this wasn't some dream, but reality.

Probably not the time, nor the place, but Leon was so fucking pretty when he cried.

You brought your hand up, the soft pad of your thumb stroking it away. He leaned into your gentle touch like a kicked puppy, pressing a soft kiss against the tip of your thumb as it brushed over his bottom lip.

"I don't deserve you," he whispered, the words barely audible but so full of meaning it made your chest ache, "but I don't know how to let you go."

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creator1mpersonator · 4 days ago

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The Rescue Mission

02. Blue Medallions

No use of y/n, lowk may be a little bit rushed so I may rewrite it later, things are indeed happening

There was a path to the side of a tall tower. You followed the arrow sign, finding another gate. You opened it, entering another part of the village. There were a few blue medallions hanging on tree branches, but some were broken on the ground. Shot down, by the looks of it.

You hoped that meant that Leon had been here. That could mean the trail wasn’t completely cold.

A blue piece of paper was stapled onto a tree. You hopped over the fence, tearing it off. It was mostly illegible, but what you could make out said that there were 15 blue medallions, 7 in the farm and 8 in the cemetery. 10 or more shot down resulted in some kind of award.

You folded up the paper, pocketing it. It could be useful, maybe.

You walked through the area, finding a few hostile villagers that ran at you with pitchforks. A few knife swipes was enough to take them down, which was useful to know since ammo was precious in a place like this. You shot down the remaining blue medallions, counting five. There didn’t seem to be that much in the area, aside from a few yellow herbs, chicken eggs, and pistol ammo. A few cabinets contained sparkly gems, which you took like a raven attracted by something sparkly.

Once you looted the houses (well, that was practically what you were doing), you continued to the next gate you saw. You walked out, only for three villagers to push down a boulder in your direction from above.

“Fuck!” You yelled, bursting into a run. You just narrowly avoided getting crushed like a bug by jumping out the way the moment you could, the boulder crashing into the side of a mountain by a tunnel.

“Jesus…” you panted, standing back up. You checked to make sure your transmitter was okay, before radioing in.

“Hunnigan, bad news.” You panted, trying to catch your breath, “I’ve confirmed the body of an officer, and something is seriously wrong with the people here.”

“Your intel matches what Leon told me.” Hunnigan said, “where are you now?”

“I just left the village, I’m by a tunnel.”

“Get out of there as fast as you can,” Hunnigan worriedly said, “find Leon and Ashley, don’t engage more than necessary.”

“Roger that.” You said, before ending the transmission.

You armed yourself with your pistol, walking through the tunnel. You groaned when you saw more houses, you knew this wouldn’t be easy but this mission was taking years off your lifespan. Hopefully not literally, you wanted to take a long bath after all of this was over.

You saw what could only be described as a trap, a wire held up by two explosives. You shot one of the bombs, making everything in its vicinity explode. You backed away, covering your face.

“¡No los dejes escapar!” (Don’t let them escape!) One of the villagers yelled. This one was different; instead of pitchforks, they had molotov cocktails. You quickly jumped back, narrowly avoiding the explosive before firing at the villager. He fell down, but two more took his place. ‘At what point does this become annoying?’ You pondered, firing at them. They moved slowly, before falling like flies

Soon enough, the hostiles were all dead. You walked through the empty houses, taking whatever useful items you found. There was a rather large house, two stories tall with a lock on the door. You broke it with the butt of your pistol, and surveyed the interior before finding no hostiles. It was dusty, and looked almost deserted.

Almost.

You entered a real fancy living room, finding a bookshelf pushed out the way of a secret doorway. It was empty, and a broken closet sat in the corner.

“Nothing here,” you quietly mumbled, turning around to leave. You screamed when you saw a tall man at the doorway behind you. He had a black eye and a red eye, bald but with a long, black beard. He wore a black trench coat and you could see black pants and combat boots. He looked like he’d seen better days.

You immediately began firing bullets, but he advanced like they were nothing. You backed up, continuing to shoot, until he got close enough to disarm you and throw you against the wall like you weighed nothing.

You tried to catch your breath, but your ears were ringing and everything hurt so bad.

“No pensé que enviarían a otro agente…” the man said, before your world went dark completely. (I didn’t think they would send another agent…)

You woke up in a new room, your hands held together by a shackle connected to a chain. But, it wasn’t just you.

Because you could feel two other pairs of hands rubbing against your skin.

One of them, a man, woke up. He struggled against his binding, shifting you and the other person in the process.

“Hey, hey. Are you awake?” He asked, and you looked to your side to see the man you were looking for. Well, at least he wasn’t dead.

“Leon Scott Kennedy?” You asked, and you felt him tense up next to you.

“Whos asking?”

“I’m Special Agent ___ ___.” You introduced yourself, “I was sent on a rescue mission by the D.S.O. after you went twelve hours without making contact. I’m supposed to get you and the Baby Eagle home.”

“A rescue mission?” Leon asked, “I don’t need rescuing.”

“Look at the situation we’re in right now and tell me that again.” You retorted, and he fell silent.

The third person, also a man from what you could deduce, groaned and awoke from his slumber.

“Ay yai yai,” he muttered, “don’t be so rough, whoever you are.”

“What’s going on here?” You immediately asked.

“Americanos? Figures.” The mystery man said, “what brings you two here?”

“I’m— we’re—“ Leon corrected himself, “looking for this girl.” He weasled a picture of Ashley out from his pocket, showing the man, “seen her?”

“You two police?” The man asked.

“We’re not.” You said.

The man hummed.

“Let me guess… is that the president’s daughter?”

You and Leon both paused.

“One hell of a guess.” Leon spoke first, “start talking.”

“I’m a psychic,” the man joked, but after he gained no positive reaction, he awkwardly said “just kidding.”

“How do you know about her?” You asked him.

“Overheard some of the villagers talking about her, guess she’s in the church.” He explained.

“And who exactly are you?” You pressed.

“Me llamo Luis Serra.” Luis introduced himself, “used to be a cop in Madrid, but now I’m a good-for-nothing ladies’ man. And you?” (I’m called Luis Serra.)

“I’m Special Agent ___.” You said, and Leon introduced himself as well.

“Why’d you quit?” Leon asked Luis.

“Bah, policía.” Luis grumbled, “you put your life on the line and no one really appreciates you! Being a hero isn’t what it’s cracked out to be.”

Leon was silent for a moment, before he spoke again, “I used to be a cop. Only for a day, though.”

“And I thought I was bad.” Luis teased.

“Managed to get myself involved in the Raccoon City incident,” Leon said, and you began listening intently.

“Oof, qué suerte.” Luis said, “you know, I think I—“ (What luck.)

The door suddenly opened, and a bloody villager weilding an axe entered.

“Te voy a matar.” He hissed, approaching. Like chickens with their head cut off, the three of you began scrambling. (I’m going to kill you.)

“Do something, cop!” Luis exclaimed at Leon.

“You first!” Leon retorted.

“Either of you do something!” You yelped.

“What about you, special agent?!” Luis yelled.

The villager pulled the axe back, and by some stroke of luck, the three of you managed to move in a position where the axe hit the shackles that bound you. You all rolled away. The man moved toward Leon, who managed to kick him in the abdomen and send him crashing into the wall. He died with a sickening crack, his neck snapped in half.

Luis took this opportunity to run off, and you considered following but decided that Leon was much more of a priority. You got up, before extending a hand out to him.

“Alright?” You asked. He nodded, taking your hand and getting up with your help. Your transmitter beeped.

“Hunnigan, I got good news.” You said, “I’ve found Leon.”

“Really? Oh, that’s great.” She said, “is he with you right now?”

“He is. We also have an idea of where Ashley is. A male civilian held captive told us that she was being kept in an old church.”

“Is the civilian alright?”

“He escaped fine. We’re gonna head back to the village, apparently there’s a secret path that leads there.”

“Be safe.” She said, before the transmission ended.

Leon armed himself with his pistol, and you went to do so as well until you remembered that the man with the trench coat had tossed your’s away back in that old house.

“Damn.” You muttered.

“You alright?” Leon asked.

“No. Some fucking guy in a black trench coat disarmed me, I don’t have my pistol.” You said.

“You have a knife and a shotgun, though.” He said.

“…Touché.”

You decided to use your knife for the time being, and the two of you walked out the room you were originally kept in. In the hallway, a man appeared just outside the window.

“Over here, strangers.” He said, mouth covered by a purple cloth with a silver design and a hood covering his head. You and Leon shared a look before heading out the small house.

It was windy out, more so than when you first arrived in Valdelobos. From what you could tell, you were high up because the clouds were close and you could see mountain peaks clearly. You and Leon moved slowly, checking for any villagers and not finding anyone. Around the back of the house was the man from earlier, who chuckled when he saw the two of you approach and opened up his trench coat to reveal a mini arsenal.

“What’re you buying?” He said, and Leon was the only one who actually seemed interested. He assessed a pistol and a rifle the Merchant was selling, before giving him many gold coins (maybe you should’ve paid more attention to those little boxes…)

“Yer business is appreciated.” He said, and Leon turned around towards you.

“Here,” he held out the pistol. You blinked.

“You didn’t have to buy me a new one.” You said, taking the weapon into your hands.

“I wanted to. I don’t need anyone slowing me down.” Leon said, which killed the mood completely. Does he remember you’re here to save him?

And, well, Ashley too. But you’re sure she actually has manners.

To make matters worse:

“You know, you’re pretty cute.” Leon said, “maybe after all of this is over, we could get dinner?”

“We’re on duty.” You immediately shut him down.

“Story of my life.” He muttered, walking alongside you to the gate leading out. It would only go downhill from here, you should’ve left Leon S. Kennedy alone.

#fic: the rescue mission #fanfiction #x gn reader #x reader #yandere resident evil #resident evil fic #yandere leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #effiewrites #yandere x reader

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creator1mpersonator · 4 days ago

Text

The Rescue Mission

01. El Pueblo (The Village)

No use of (Y/N), reader curses, the dog is here!, thinly veiled frustration about the chainsaw man taking all my ammo before he dies and also me still being mad about how many times i died in the village fight

You arrived in Madrid a few days later. Spanish officials met you at the airport and took you to headquarters, briefing you on the situation.

Leon Kennedy arrived about three days ago, escorted by two police officers that had also gone missing. He maintained regular contact with the D.S.O., but hadn’t reached out for twelve hours. It is unknown what state he is in, and what state Ashley Graham is in. All that is known is that they were both last seen in a remote village in the mountainous region Valdelobos. Valley of Wolves.

Similar to Leon, two police officers took you up into the mountains. They didn’t speak much, only to each other in some slivers of Spanish you couldn’t exactly make out. You looked out into the terrain, assessing your environment, when the car stopped.

“This is as far as we’ll take you, yankee.” The driver said, looking at you through the rearview mirror, “you understand why we’re paranoid to go any further, yes?”

You nodded, thanking them for their help before getting out of the backseat. They turned around quickly, leaving you alone on the path.

This mission, as much as you didn’t want to admit it, made you anxious. More anxious than any mission you’d been on before. You didn’t know what to expect here, and you hated that. You hoped you’d find the two of them soon.

You continued on your way, the only noise coming from the loud wind and the dead leaves crunching under your boots. No one was around, and you couldn’t tell if it made you feel better or worse.

You soon heard rushing water. You went in that direction, finding a broken bridge and two cars destroyed at the rocks below. One was a rusty truck, the other a Madrid police car. On the other side was a dilapidated house, likely where the village began.

“Shit,” you cursed under your breath. How were you supposed to get across now? You turned around, trying to spot a fork in the path that would help you and instead finding a large white dog sat right behind you. You almost shrieked, far too on edge.

The dog seemed friendly enough, standing up and approaching you. You hesitantly extended your hand out, and it was sniffed and licked. Yeah, it was friendly.

“Hi,” you softly greeted, petting the top of the dog’s head. It yipped, nuzzling against your palm. You noticed a nasty wound in one of it’s hind legs, the marks reminiscent of a bear trap. Poor thing.

“You wouldn’t know any way around this, would you?” You asked the dog, like it would understand you. Although its ears did perk up, and it ran in the opposite direction before stopping to see if you were following. You decided that this was your best shot, and you followed the white dog.

The two of you ran through the forest, avoiding low hanging branches and, occasionally, the hidden bear trap. No wonder the poor thing had gotten stuck in one; the villagers hid them well. You kept going until the dog stopped in front of a metal gate with an insignia blazed on it. You thought it looked like a bug.

“What a good dog,” you cooed, scratching behind its ears. It yipped happily, nuzzling against your hand before running off again. This time, you didn’t follow.

You took a deep breath, and pushed the gates open. Your transmitter beeped, and you picked it up from where it sat on your utility belt.

“Hunnigan,” you greeted, “I’m in the village.”

“Good work,” she praised, “any hostiles?”

“Not yet. I haven’t seen any sign of Kennedy, the Baby Eagle, or the Spanish officers either.”

“Bad news, ___. Stay sharp,” Hunnigan advised, “if the D.S.O.’s best goes missing, I don’t know what we’ll do.”

“Yes ma’am.” You said, before ending the transmission and placing your “work phone” back on your belt.

If the D.S.O.’s best went missing, you’re sure no one would come looking for you. Ashley, maybe, but not you or Leon. You’d be written off as going AWOL, and forgotten forever.

You moved forward down the path, ducking behind a tree when you saw villagers moving about the center of the village. There were some animals as well, but what caught your attention was the flaming stake. You used your binoculars, finding that one of the Spanish cops was impaled on a hook and currently burning like a log. His eyes were completely gone, melted.

“Christ almighty,” you muttered under your breath. What the fuck was wrong with these people? You swallowed, stomaching your anxiety and trudging forward. They didn’t notice you for a moment, until one of the elderly ladies yelled “¡un forestero!” (an outsider!)

That seemed to be a war call, because the nearby villagers suddenly armed themselves with sickles and hatchets. Why, oh why did you not sneak around? You didn’t want to waste ammo so early, especially not knowing what was ahead, so you ducked into the nearest house—

Which was apparently the wrong thing to do. More villagers began coming out from the shadows, surrounding the house. You blockaded the front door with an old dresser, looking out the small window to see a man wearing a burlap sack over his head start a chainsaw.

“Fuck!” You cursed, hearing a window shatter upstairs from the ladder they put up. It didn’t look like there was any way out but through.

You ran upstairs, finding a shotgun hung on the wall which you of course took along with the grenade kept in a glass cabinet. There was a box of shotgun shells on the bed, and you filled up the magazine.

More and more villagers appeared, banging at the window that wasn’t yet broken and trying to burst down the front door. You pushed the ladder down, taking down the old man climbing it as well. You turned around just in time to find that they’d succeeded in breaking down the door, and the man with the chainsaw was all but running at you. You dodged just in time, had you not he would’ve sliced your head clean off, and you shot at his knee caps. The man yelled in pain, falling over.

You took this opportunity of weakness to use the butt of your pistol to break the other window, making the villagers stumble back. You climbed out onto the roof of the house next door, the mass of zombie-like people slowly approaching. The man with the chainsaw recovered far too quickly, climbing out of the house to join his neighbors.

That was when you grabbed your grenade, pulling the pin and tossing it. You ducked and covered your ears, hearing the screams and blood splatter. A majority of the original hoard were dead, some so much as melting into red goo, but the chainsaw man was somehow still alive and more villagers were scaling up onto the roof. Shit.

You pulled your pistol from its holder, firing at everyone. At this point, survival was your only goal. Some fell, some didn’t. You felt relieved when the chainsaw man finally died, but even more villagers kept coming at you and you felt death get closer and closer.

Then, a church bell rang.

“Que lindo..” (how pretty) one of the men said, and like a hive mind, they all began moving in the direction of the church. To say you were confused was an understatement.

The small village was suddenly deserted, and you were alone. Relief was a welcomed feeling, but there was certainly more at play here. Something very sinister for everyone to react that way.

You jumped down from the roof, looking around the village freely now that there was no grandma or grandpa looking to chop you up and eat you for dinner (‘what do they even eat here?’ you pondered.)

A few houses were empty with a completely rancid smell. Some had helpful items, like ammo for your pistol or shotgun and a green herb that made you feel significantly better once eaten. You hoped it wasn’t weed. You also collected a few eggs the chickens laid.

In one house, however, was a intriguing item. It was a file containing a bunch of photos of Leon. You also found a memo stating that the ‘outsider’ must be dealt with and that the prisoner who you assumed was Ashley was being kept in an old house beyond the farm. It was signed by one Chief Bitores Mendez.

You hoped Ashley was okay. Poor girl, this all must be so terrifying.

With a deep breath, you continued forward.

#fic: the rescue mission #yandere fanfiction #yandere x reader #x gn reader #leon s kennedy #yandere leon kennedy #fanfiction #effiewrites #x reader #i hate the chainsaw man #resident evil 4 #resident evil fic #yandere resident evil

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