#Leon kennedy x gn reader
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one of my favorite headcanon tropes is roommate!leon. friends to lovers brainrot anyone?
Leon would start out reserved until you two became comfortable with each other. He’s normally quiet anyway, as you have come to learn, but you also learned that comfortable meant him not being afraid to sit a little too close to you just because it’s cozy for him.
Food is his comfort item. This was discovered very fast. (“Leon, I just bought this whole box of cheez-its two days ago. I didn’t even have any!” “Leon, those were my gummy worms. I would have bought you some.” Once you learned to accommodate his black hole stomach, you found it oddly fun to cook for him, he was always looking to try new recipes.)
He would become overly friendly and caring when he wants something from you. 9 times out of 10, it was because he was hungry. (The one time was when he just wanted company late at night and couldn’t sleep.)
He would always have the courtesy to ask you if something he is doing would bother you, even if it is something you barely even noticed. (“Is my music too loud?” “Should I move my stuff off the table?”)
Leon would slowly start learning your every day routine. What you did on early mornings, how you set up meals around a work or class schedule, and what time you tend to go to bed. He found himself adapting his own around yours, keeping peaceful company unless you were in your room, door closed.
Sometimes, Leon would come home late from work. He tried as best as he could to be quiet so you could stay asleep, but he would always walk into something. It would prompt you to then walk out of your room and just stare at him. (“Leon, really?” “I… I’m sorry, I don’t know how the kitchen table got right there.” You were already awake and waiting for him to come home, but you liked seeing him stumble over himself to apologize to you.)
Once Leon had gotten word that he would be going on prolonged work missions, you could see he was guilty about leaving you alone. You comforted him as best you could, but you were often lonely without his presence. You did lots of cat ownership contemplating during those times.
While he was mostly a heavy sleeper, and could fall asleep anywhere, there were times you would wake up to noise in the kitchen. You would investigate to find him rummaging through the cabinets, looking for snacks. (“I thought you said you bought more cheez-its.” “I did, Leon. You ate them.” “Oh.” “Come on, there’s some in my room. I was hiding them from you, but you can take them.”)
Leon’s love language was very much quality time. You knew his job was stressful, and your schedule was often not fixed, so on the nights you were both home, he wanted to be in your presence, whether it be watching something together, or doing your own thing in the same room. He didn’t want those nights to end, because it always meant you had to go back to your own room. (You didn’t want these nights to end, and you wish Leon would just tell you that you can fall asleep in his room.)
No matter what the temperature is in the house, it seems like it never bothers him, or rather that he gets hot way too fast. This man is seen more often without a shirt than with one, not that it was totally a nuisance to you. You knew he was more observant than he led on to be, so you only let yourself look at his body when he is turned around. (“Leon, I’m in a sweatshirt, and you are half naked. Clearly one of us is wrong about the temperature here.” “Well, it’s not me.”)
Leon grew on you really fast. You knew you made a good choice in roommates after the first time Leon detected your bad mood and did whatever he could to make you happy. (“Gummy worms? Thanks, Leon. I’m surprised you didn’t eat these already.” “I was definitely going to. But you need them more than me.” He definitely snuck a few while you ate them.)
a/n: today is my birthday! take these little headcanons that I'm always thinking about while I finish the other fic and start some more :) does anyone else need a friends to lovers roommates au now... (cause i do) (thank you again for the support on my first fic. the pressure to please is high but i’m excited for my next fics!)
#leon kennedy#leon kennedy x reader#resident evil#leon kennedy fanfiction#headcanons#resident evil fanfiction#leon kennedy x gn reader#leon kennedy headcanons#resident evil 2#resident evil 4
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Tiddies
Reader has small tits/pecs in this. Reader's gender isn't specified.
Gn reader
divider by cafekitsune
'Such pretty tits.' Leon was extremely confused by y/n's behavior. Alcohol lowering their inhibitions, saying whatever was on their mind. Swatting their hands away from his pecs, still slightly uncomfortable with how much muscle he has gained over the years. He still thought of himself as that kid in the academy sometimes and he was definitely not used to women hitting on him. 'They're not tits. Plus you have your own, squeeze those.'
'Not as squishy.'
'Ugh, fine, if I let you touch my--' 'tits!' '--my tits, you'll leave me alone?' Seeing them quickly nod, he knew it wouldn't be that easy to shake them off. Leon folded his arm over his eye while he avoided how good it felt having y/n suck on his nipples. 'You're so red.' Chuckling as their teeth lightly tugged on his nip. 'Sh-shut up.' Their other hand using the other pec as a stress ball. Leon had to tell them to stop being so rough multiple times over. To which they'd oblige before forgetting a few minutes later. He could've sworn he saw them drooling at one point.
'Anyone ever give you a titjob before?' Hiccuping through their question as they stared at the bulge in his pants. Leon softly panting at their ministrations. Thighs starting to shake, attempting to subtly rut his hips. Making eye contact with y/n, he finally noticed all the purple marks they had sucked into his skin. Most placed along his side and under-boob areas. Not entirely visible but not too well hidden either. 'N-no.' The imagery pushing him off the edge, cumming in his pants.
As his breathing calmed, Leon's voice broke clearly through y/n's fuzzy headspace. 'If you remember this in the morning, we are not talking about this.'
#mdni#resident evil#leon kennedy#resident evil x reader#leon kennedy x gn reader#leon kennedy x reader#x gender neutral reader#x gn reader#x reader#smut fic
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merman! leon x gn! reader (but made with m! reader in mind) ˚୨୧⋆。 (a/n) ; first writing on tumblr,, hhfhg i had an idea in mind and ig i wanted to write it sooo.. also sorry this is so short aa i wrote this in like 15 minutes word count ; 270 not proofread.. sorry.. you've had a rough week. whenever you came back home, you felt worn out and exhausted. you just needed a break. sitting at the edge of the pier, you stared into the sunset, feeling yourself finally be able to relax for the first time in what seemed ages. you had your thoughts to yourself, you felt comfortable, dangling your legs into the crisp waters. what more could you really ask for? your train of thought was interrupted by the feeling of.. something. you could've sworn something had touched your leg from underneath the water. instead of making a big deal about it, you simply wrote it off as just you making things up in your head. but you were wrong. very wrong. below the surface, leon had been sort of spying on you for a little. leon hasn't seen a human in god knows how long. leon was always fascinated with them, but he almost never saw them very often. he'd always wanted to know more about them. their anatomy, what they did, how they lived their lives, he wanted to know every last thing about them. leon was debating whether or not he should try introducing himself to you, because how would you react? leon figured that humans didn't really know that people like him really existed at all, (which, he wasn't totally wrong,) so he'd figured you'd be startled upon seeing him. so leon just stayed underneath the pier, just admiring you. admiring you for the time you'd stay, and honestly, leon kind of hoped that you wouldn't leave him.
#leon scott kennedy#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy x y/n#leon kennedy x gn reader#x gn reader#x y/n#x you#leon kennedy x you#leon s kennedy#re4#re4 remake#resident evil 4#fic#leon kennedy#aaa i love leon smm#re4 leon#resident evil 4 remake#resident evil#residentevil
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The calm after the storm-GN!Reader x Leon kennedy Re4 remake
Aww my poor baby needs some love and comfort :(
Warnings
Mentions of pills, axes, blood, wounds, etc. Please be cautious when reading dear! 💞 Takes place after Re4
He was standing in his empty apartment. Cuts, bruises, and injuries litter his body. The soft rising and falling of his chest as he takes a deep breath, trying to cool himself down from the heat of the burning pain. The burning, searing, flaming pain of each injury.
His blue eyes flicker down to his hands. The same hands that held the guns, the same hands that were covered in blood. He lets out a groan and puts his hands back at his sides. Memories of everything that happened flashed through his mind.
Every person, every yell, every scream. All of the blood and the horrible smell of death that surrounded that horrific town.
He could still practically smell it on him. The nasty..horrific scent of blood and sorrow. How his eyes watered with tears from the memories. The horrible trauma was still fresh and new in his mind. He remembered the animalistic groans and yells from the villagers. He jumped in shock when a thunderous cry filled the night sky.
Lightning followed shortly after, adorning his room. It was still the same way he had left it before he left for that horrific mission. Rain softly patterned against his window as he looked around his now-dark room. His bed in the middle pressed firmly against the wall. Grey sheets sheathed his bed, slight ruffles in them from the nights of his turning and tossing in his bed. The soft black and grey comforter was neatly laid out on his bed, a corner open so he could have easier access to his bed.
His eyes moved to his pillows. A grey color covers them as well. There were two larger ones and a smaller, more narrow one for him to hug. The headboard of his bead was a black smokey color. It was padded as well. The foot of his bed had a black smokey board. His eyes moved to his nightstand. There was a lamp there with a black cover. A few empty pill bottles littered the top. A brand new bottle of pills sat there, unopened and untampered.
The rain pattering steadily against his window continued to serve as a sort of white noise. A round of thunder came again before the familiar white flash illuminated his room once more. His eyes traveled to the floors of his room. They were a black wooden floor. The black was soft and smokey so you could walk easily and not get tripped out and it served as an aesthetically pleasing sight.
His eyes moved to the small circular gray carpet that lay on his floor. A few stray pieces of clothing he dropped while grabbing his gear for the mission. He quietly walked over to them, the sound of his shoes gently hitting the wooden floors softly echoing through his room and then disappearing. He bent down and gently picked up the clothing. He observed them gently to see what they were. In his hands was a soft dark navy blue T-shirt. He gently tossed it into his clothing hamper. He picked up the other articles of clothing that included a pair of black jeans, a pair of socks, and one pair of boxers.
As he stood back up fully he was met with his black closet. There were silver knobs on them. His eyes traveled over the pictures of people he met in the agency. His eyes traveled over to his mirror. His eyes widened slightly for a moment as he saw his reflection. He walked to the mirror that was on his desk.
He looked into the reflection, his tired blue eyes met with the sight of his tired, beaten up, and weary form. His arms were scabbed over with blood from several scratches from fences, plants, trees, and walls that he accidentally scratched himself on.
His wrists were bruised. He was slightly confused about why before he remembered the room he was in with Luis. A soft smile feigned over his lips as he remembered Luis. Although..soon enough his smile turned into a frown as he remembered Luis' death.
A shaky sigh left his lips. It was soft and quiet as it left him. He let his eyes continue to wander over his disheveled figure. His hair was soft but slightly plagued by blood in some spots. The blood was dry and a darker color. His hair had little strays from him moving around and fighting so much.
His eyes traveled to his face. There was a cut on his cheek and a bruise forming on his cheek. There were dark eyebags under his eyes. His pupils were dilated from the darkness of his room. A cut was on his top lip as well. His eyes wandered down to his neck which was slowly also starting to bruise. He could make out a handprint that was starting to form.
His eyes moved to his shoulders which had slightly healed cuts from axes. He had bruises that littered his forearms. His shirt was slightly ripped and snagged in some places. His eyes wandered down to his legs. His pants covered every injury that he could feel but not see. He knew they were there without even seeing them.
His eyes looked back at his mirror. More photos of people from the agency were on the sides of the mirror. His eyes glanced over to a few. There were four. Different pictures of Krauser and him. One picture was in the training fields. Krauser had a smirk on his face. Leon was looking up at him with a raised eyebrow. He remembered that day...
He remembered that Krauser wanted to show him a new move. A new defensive move nonetheless. Leon ended up falling on the ground not some mud and Krauser had laughed at him.
The second photo...Krauser was holding the camera. Leon was in the bathroom, scrubbing off some marker doodles the others had drawn on him after he fell asleep. Krauser had a smile on his face and he was holding back a teasing laugh.
The third photo was of Kraused and Leon. Krauser was sharpening his knife and Leon was watching him out of pure boredom.
The fourth photo was of Leon and Krauser standing next to each other. They were in uniform. Krauser had an arm around Leon and rubbed his knuckle on his head. Leon was Laughing and trying to get his hand off of him.
Leon felt a weird feeling of conflict in his stomach. He remembered how he killed Krauser...how Krauser killed Luis. He remembered everything. He turned his head away. He looked back at his room.
His eyes looked around before he saw his bathroom door. He thought for a moment. A shower seemed...nice. He walked over and opened the door quietly. His bruised hand gently touched the light switch. The bathroom's lights turned on. His eyes squinted from the bright light and he blinked a few times before he got used to it.
He took his shoes off carefully and gently placed them down. His feet hurt because of jumping from high heights, walking, running, jumping, and having to hold his and Ashley's body weight sometimes. He let his hands gently grab the bottom of his shirt and pull it up. A shooting wave of pain shot through hir lower back and shoulders.
He let out a groan and stopped for a second. He took a deep breath before he managed to get his shirt off. He gently placed it on his marbled sink counter. He slid off his pants and his buckle. A feeling of relief washed through him as the pressure from his waistband and buckle finally released.
He looked at his body in the mirror. Even more cuts, stabs, and wounds were visible. He grimaced and turned his face away. He laid a soft white towel out on the rack. He had one of those glass showers with the doors.
His hand reached for the door handle and he turned the shower on. He put it to the hottest temperature and closed the door, waiting for it to heat up. While he was waiting he took off his socks. And right before he got in he slid his boxers off. They fell to the floor with a soft noise and he stepped out of them.
He opened the glass door and stepped in. He let out a sigh and a happy hum from the relief of the warm water. "mm.." He closed his eyes softly for a moment, allowing his ears to do the only work. He could hear the water bouncing off of his sore body and hitting the glass or the marble floor of his shower. He could hear his soft noises of relief softly echo and reverberate against the glass and walls of his shower.
He stretched and he could hear a few pops and cracks and he felt relief. He let out a soft sigh and grabbed a bottle of his shampoo. The shampoo was healing and restoring. It had a soft, sweet scent of honey and fresh air. It was a soft but noticeable scent.
He squeezed the bottle gently and closed it afterward. He put the bottle back on its rack before he gently scrubbed the shampoo into the roots of his hair. The soft smell of fresh air and honey mixed with the smell of the hot water almost immediately. The suds and bubbles formed in his hair as his hands gently massaged his scalp.
He let it sit for a moment or two before he washed it out gently. He tilted his head back to avoid getting any soapy water in his eyes. Though...after what he has seen, that may not have been the worst idea.
He grabbed his conditioner and put it in his hair as well, but he let it sit in his hair. While he let it sit he grabbed a loofa and he got some of his soft-smelling Dove body wash. The scent was sweet and soft but not perfumy.
He put some water on the loofa and let the soap foam up before he gently washed his body. He got his arms, legs, feet, and his inner thighs. He got his back and his shoulders as well. He gently washed all of that off and then washed a few other places. After he finished all of that he gently scrubbed his face to get all of the dirt and grime off of him. He finally felt clean after the sweat that had dried on his skin washed off. He cleaned the loofa and then washed the conditioner out of his hair.
He continued to let the water console his aching and pain-filled body as a bit of relief washed over him. He carefully got out of the shower after turning it off. The glass was clouded and so was the mirror. He grabbed the towel and dried his hair and then his body. He wrapped the towel around his waist and he grabbed his hair dryer and brush.
He spent 5 minutes drying his hair and brushing it. His hair was free from dirt, grime, sweat, and blood. He ran his fingers through his soft and dry hair. He picked up his clothes and put them in his dirty clothes on his way out of the bathroom, deciding to just leave his shoes in there.
He walked to the black closet and his hands gently opened the doors. He grabbed a soft black hoodie and he grabbed new socks, boxers, and some shorts. He put on the hoodie and slid the boxers up his injured legs and up to his waist. He pulled on his shorts before he walked to his bed and slid on his socks.
He was sitting on his bed, now letting everything that happened seem like a memory, a distant but also new memory. He started to get lost in the memory of everything that happened. He felt his chest tighten up and his breath left him as quickly as it came. Tears blurred his vision and he choked a few times on his tears and coughs as he tried to breathe.
Suddenly his phone vibrates. He jumped, feeling nervous and paranoid. He wiped his eyes slightly and reached a very shaky hand to his phone. He looked at the screen and a bit of relief washed through his system. You had texted him.
He put his passcode in and looked at the text message. It was simple but cute to him, but also very needed.
You: Hi Leon, I heard you got back from your mission! Saving the president's daughter huh? Now that is pretty cool. I know you may be busy signing autographs or some idol stuff like that but maybe I could come over and you could tell me about it?
His eyes glistened over. He needed someone right now...
His fingers gently typed on his phone's keyboard and he replied
Leon: Yeah, no you can come over!
He saw your little emoticon he had set as your contact profile photo type.
You: Ok! I'll be right over.
He smiled and turned off his phone. He put it on his nightstand and he laid back on his bed. He could feel the migraine setting in and he let out a groan. He grabbed his comforter and pulled it over him and he rested his head on his pillow. He fell asleep.
Soon enough he heard the front door to his apartment open and he smiled sleepily. He heard a coat being unzipped and placed up and then he heard the sound of shoes hitting the floor. Soft sounds of little steps were heard coming to his bedroom door.
Then you opened the door. You weren't wearing your shoes and you were in your socks. He watched as you walked over to him and looked at the injuries on his face.
He saw the worry in your eyes and he frowned slightly. He didn't want you upset or sad.
He sat up on his bed and opened the blanket. He saw your eyes travel down his body and towards his injuries. He saw your face contort into more worry. He saw you walk into his bathroom and grab the first aid supplies.
You walked over to the bed and sat down on it. You started to put disinfectant on all of his cuts. He let out gasps and groans from the pain as he squeezed his eyes shut. you grabbed bandaids and put them on the smaller injuries before grabbing bandages and wrapping them around his bigger injuries.
Toward the end of it, you were holding his injured hands in your own and bandaging them softly and carefully. His tired and sad blue eyes watched your hands move carefully to not hurt him. You gently finished bandaging his hand and you threw the paper stuff away before putting the first aid away.
This had become a routine. After every mission, you would come over and heal him slowly. Sometimes on simple missions, he would purposefully get hurt just so you would come over and bandage him and stay with him. He enjoyed your company, he enjoyed you being there with him.
You came back into the room and Leon looked at you with a soft, sleepy smile. "Thanks..you help me you know..? Every time you help me I always feel a bit safer and...I can't thank you enough"
His voice was soft and raspy as he spoke softly. He looked up at you and he moved over in his bed. He patted the spot next to him with an uncharacteristically sheepish smile.
You laughed slightly and a warm smile spread on your face as you sat next to him on the bed. He put the blanket over you. Usually, he was the big spoon but after missions, you always held him.
He needed reassurance and love. He needed the feeling of being wanted and cared for. He hated having to always be strong and he hated always making decisions. Lord knows he made enough already during his mission. He just needed someone to hold him...and listen to him..and let him cry.
You opened your arms and he put his head onto your chest. He could feel your hands gently scratching his scalp softly. He could feel your other hand gently massaging the sore muscles on his back and his stiff neck. He let out a small sigh.
He was too tired to cry now. He just wanted to rest and relax..and that is exactly what you let him do.
You were usually his rock after the missions. You were the reason he fought to come home alive. You were his reason for everything.
And these moments solidified those thoughts, and that made them stronger every time.
His love for you was true...and he loved you a lot. That is one thing he knew he could count on. The simplicity of your love...your care...your everything.
His eyes softly closed as he could hear you softly humming. He always enjoyed your humming when he was tired and fragile. He could practically feel your concern. You were holding him like he was as fragile as a flower...as if one movement could break him.
He could feel your warmth and love with every tender movement your hand made as they massaged his back. He could feel the kindness and care in every gentle, loving scratch that blessed his clean and soft scalp.
He could hear the sounds of the rain still pattering against his window like earlier and he had a soft hazy smile form on his tired, injured face as he slowly but peacefully fell into a trance.
His arms were gently placed around your waist. His breaths were soft against you. His chest was pressed against your side.
He could feel you press a soft kiss on his head. He could feel your head laying on his. The weight really grounded him and made sure he knew you were there and that he wasn't in Spain...and that he wasn't alone.
He felt the fatigue from the mission slowly catch up to him again. He could feel his legs relaxing first. Slowly but surely his body relaxed into his bed. The soft pattering of rain against the window, the wind gently blowing, the soft rumbling of thunder...and then the soft sounds of your sleepy hums or the sounds of your soft breathing...
Comfort filled him as he finally felt peace..as he finally felt comfort..and he let sleep carefully overtake him as his body, and mind went to rest...forgetting about his trauma, his stress, and his pain.
Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed it. You get some rest now lovely, you need and deserve it🥰
#leon x reader#Leon angst#Leon Kennedy#Leon Sexy Kennedy#RE4#re4make#<3#re4 x reader#resident evil 4#re4 remake#resident evil 4 remake#Leon#re4r spoilers#Leon Sad Kennedy#Leon is soo baby girl#he just needs a hug#he is so sad#he is stunning#he gets comfort#leon x you#Leon x gn reader#and remember that I love you <3#Spotify#gn reader#gnxleon#gn x leon kennedy#Leon kennedy x gn reader#leon fluff#leon kennedy#re4 leon
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Okay so like Leon x GN!Reader right, except they recently got like a surgery so they have to be in a wheel chair for about a month and he comes home after a short mission to see the reader playing the violin again. Idk just something that's been on my mind lately
omg this is such a tender piece to even think about-
Just imagine Leon, who's been reluctant to go to work since he's worried about leaving you at home by yourself after the surgery, comes home stressed and anxious, just ready to relax and have you by his side.
But when he walks through the door, he pauses, holding the handle of the front door before it closes so he can focus on what he's hearing from the back of the house. Music?
He turns the handle so the door shuts as quietly as possible before quickly making his way to the source of the music, music he hasn't heard in weeks. Now standing in the doorway to the main bedroom, he finds the source of that wonderful sound.
It was you, playing your violin; softly, carefully, bow running across strings like it was second nature.
It felt like it'd been ages since he last heard you play like this, with such gentle vigor. He longed to hear you play again, but he didn't want to make you feel pressured in such a state. You'd come back to it in your own time, he thought, or hoped more so. He couldn't keep you away from the instrument before, so it was really only a matter of time before you picked it back up again.
You hadn't noticed Leon yet, too zoned in on playing to turn around, so he slowly walked into the room towards you. He let you finish out whatever song you were playing, it wasn't one he could pinpoint, maybe you learned something new while he was away?
As soon as you lowered the violin to your lap, he bent over slightly and wrapped his arms around you from from behind, low enough to place his head in the crook of your neck. You didn't flinch or turn your head, just quietly accepted his feather soft kisses on your neck with a smile.
He missed you, and you really missed him too.
#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy x gn reader#leon kennedy x gn!reader#leon kennedy fluff#leon s kennedy#leon kennedy x you#leon s kennedy x reader#leon scott kennedy x reader#leon kennedy#resident evil#leon s kennedy x you
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Spoiler alert, ya Boi's going to a party so obv I'm dropping drunk Leon stuff because I adore him!!
This is Def for re6 and up Leon, I feel like he'd start drinking frequently sometime after re4 (probably slipping into alcoholism a few months after or before re6)
Listen, Leon knows his own limits, he knows how much he needs to drink to get how drunk, which means he plans ahead accordingly. This man knows how much his favourite whiskey costs at different bars, let me tell you, he always has enough money to get just as drunk as he intends to.
In an established relationship, I feel like he'd drink less at bars and more at home, he wouldn't stop for sure, getting out of alcoholism is hard and he just needs it as coping mechanism, but he'd Def drink less.
If he isn't in a relationship and just meets you at a bar, he definitely gets you a drink. He doesn't care if he spends more money than planned, he just wants to get the pretty thing sitting beside him something to lighten up their mood. (And let me tell you, at some point of his night he isn't against you paying him back in a back alley or the bars bathroom) Leon definitely would like to take you home, but with how drunk he is that isn't possible (he mostly drinks at bars close to his apartment so he can walk home)
But oh my god, this man is a horny drunk. He loves to bring someone like you home/ drink and afterwards fuck the living shit out of his partner.
He loves it. Loves the way his head feels like it's in the sky while hearing you whine and beg because he's being mean unintentionally. And he definitely has a choked back breeding kink that only comes into play when he's drunk.
Am I... A whore?
I am. I am, definitely.
#resident evil#resident evil fanfiction#resident evil leon#resident evil imagines#resident evil 6#resident evil vendetta#leon s kennedy x reader#leon s kennedy#leon kennedy x gn reader#leon kennedy#leon kennedy smut#leon x reader#leon kennedy resident evil#leon kennedy re6
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The Taste of Your Touch
Leon S Kennedy x GN!Reader
Notes and stuff: you’re a vampire because I think they’re cool and it’s Halloween time anyways / you give Leon some loving treatment / I suck(pun intended) at thinking of titles / Nsfw
Words: 479
“You said you wouldn’t whine.”
“I’m not, it’s just- ow!” Leon Exclaimed as the rope pinched his wrist.
“There, done~” You looked proudly at your handiwork.
Leon looked at you with his typical furrowed brows as he squirmed a bit on the bed, his hands and forearms tied tightly to the headboard. The sight of his struggle made your heart race.
“I can’t move…” he muttered with slight frustration.
“That’s the point~” you purred as you crawled onto the bed and over his nude body, his muscles on an interactive display just for you. You dove in to kiss his neck and smelled his blood. The scent was tantalizing, but worth the wait, and you wanted him to be comfortable.
Speaking of comfortable, he looked the exact opposite of that, extremely tense. “Hey hey don’t worry, you’ll be alright.” You whispered sweetly to him as you placed your hand gently on his cheek.
“Kind of hard to relax when I’m tied to a headboard.” Leon grumbled as he squirmed some more while trying to get comfortable. He shook his head softly and his hair swayed back and forth. He hung his head down, hiding his face under his bangs.
You placed your index finger on his chin, raised his head, and gently placed your lips onto his. After a good moment you pulled away from Leon, who looked a bit more relaxed now. In fact, he looked as if he really wanted to keep going.
“It’s my turn to take care of you.” You said softly as you brushed his hair back and landed your lips on his again. Unable to help yourself you used one hand to run your hands over his biceps and the other to squeeze his pecs.
The longer the both of you went on the more you could feel the tension leave his body despite the squirming from your touch. You moved the hand that was feeling his bicep and wrapped it around his dick.
“Fuck” you heard him try to mutter under his breath as you both continued to kiss. As you started to slowly stroke him off Leon’s squirming and soft breaths intensified.
You separated from his lips and slowly increased the speed of your strokes making his breathing and squirming become more and more intense, his body raised as if wanting to be even closer to your touch, until he finally couldn’t hold it in anymore. Cum shot out of his dick and onto his stomach. Leon slumped down; his body fully spent.
“Hot and ready~” you joked as you dived into his neck, garnering a chuckle from him before your teeth met his throat. The taste was exquisite and you could hear his heavy breathing as you drank.
Fighting your desire to drink more, you pulled away and gave him one last passionate kiss on the lips before untying him.
#Leon S Kennedy x reader#Leon Kennedy x reader#Leon S Kennedy x GN reader#Leon Kennedy x GN Reader#Leon Kennedy drabble#Leon S Kennedy smut#Leon S Kennedy blurb#I'll admit I get nervous posting fics but life is short#also yeah I could probably add onto it someday but I wanted to do a little blurb with rope for a minute now#reno2005fics
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CRUEL SUMMER 🎶
leon kennedy x reader
synopsis : after the events of re4 and yes luis is alive (fuck the canon), the gang hit the karaoke. leon falls in love again after watching you have fun.
Leon and Luis could only watch with amusement, one smiling while one let out a boisterous laugh as you and Ashley excitedly sang into the microphone; the contagious smiles spreading to the two men watching.
It was Ashley’s idea to all go to a karaoke before going back to her father. While Leon had denied, you and Luis eagerly agreed and without a say, the American agent was dragged with.
Though Leon was indeed tired from the mission and wished to go back home, he was glad to come as he got to see something he hadn’t seen in a while.
You having fun.
“I'm drunk in the back of the car
And I cried like a baby coming home from the bar (oh)
Said, "I'm fine, " but it wasn't true
I don't wanna keep secrets just to keep you!!” You gladly took the part with a dramatic act while Ashley carried on with the next line, giggles seeping through her words as she laughed from your silly antics.
“And I snuck in through the garden gate
Every night that summer just to seal my fate (oh)
And I screamed for whatever it's worth
"I love you, " ain't that the worst thing you ever heard?
He looks up grinning like a devil!!”
“IT’S NEWWW!!”
As you two giggle and sing without a care in the world, Leon watched with a fond smile. Specifically, at you. You who looked so relaxed with a big, toothy grin on your face as you dance around with Ashley. You who threw your head back as you laughed, the light from the TV screen highlighting your facial features. (God, did you look more beautiful than ever.) You who noticed his stare and laughed again, sending a small wave before going back to singing.
You who weren’t burdened by the blood stained on your hands.
You who weren’t an agent on a mission.
Just you.
“Oi, Yanqui.” Leon snapped out of his trance and looked at Luis who had a sly grin on his face. “You’re smiling, finally! And of course, it’s because of our little cantante over here, huh.” The spaniard said loud enough to be able to be heard through the music, elbow nudging Leon’s side.
While Leon let out a quiet scoff that only fed to Luis’s amusement, his eyes couldn’t help, but to wander back to you.
As he found himself smiling again, Leon thought to himself, “A smile suits you more than anything.”
And he’d do anything to protect your smile.
a/n : first writing on tumblr 😨 i wrote this under 30 minutes so there wasn’t any checking for spelling mistakes and shit, my bad �� y’all taylor’s music does something to you istg. i was struggling to even write a SENTENCE but then i listen to cruel summer? my hand starts typing like it’s on autopilot
#resident evil#leon kennedy#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy x gn reader#leon kennedy resident evil#re4#ashley graham#luis serra
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i love soft husband leon. who doesn't? what about soft leon who loves that you are a bookworm and dedicates himself to being your biggest fan? i am on board for this.
Ever since you had met, Leon knew how much of a reader you were. So much so, that before anything serious had even transpired between you two, he vowed to be the reason for your eventually massive book collection.
He had never said it out loud, but he loved your dedication to your reading space and how you cared for your growing library. You treated it like an entity, and he couldn’t help but always admire your effort that you put into it. He never thought that he was a second choice to your affection, rather, he preferred seeing you in the state of caring for your passion. It only made him fall more.
Every anniversary, birthday, holiday that required gifts possible, he was buying you a book or something to put in the room. Leon was always paying attention to what you say you need to add, or what you want to read, or something that would make the room look brighter.
Some of his favorite moments with you are the silent nights where he was sitting at one end of the couch, either on his phone or mirroring you and (giving it his best attempt) reading, and you were always right next to him with your own book. If you were close enough to the table, a mug with that night’s choice of drink not far from your reach, and one body part always in contact with him. The peace of the air calmed him after a day at work, or when something insignificant in his life went wrong, and even just looking over at you in your blissful state was enough to soothe him.
Leon, truthfully, loved nothing more than seeing you absorbed in your own worlds. Before he had met you, he thought it impossible that he could live a life where he even had a few moments of a quiet mind. He had no idea that one person could flip that all on its head. You became that for him. And when you are in your own little world, happy as can be (or sad, Leon has seen your many moods with the books you choose), he is reminded of the day that altered his life path forever.
Leon shows up with random plants sometimes. Nothing compliments a warm library space like a good plant, and eventually you had to tell him to slow down, as you were running out of room. (That really wasn’t true, you had a whole shelf and the both of you knew it. You would happily fill it with any plant he brought in, but he stayed conscious to keep it open in order to leave space for all the books he was planning on giving you).
Coming home from work, if you weren’t in the kitchen pouring yourself another mug of whatever it was that you chose for the night, you were in your reading room. The huge chair (that Leon supplied) held you snuggly against the thick knit blanket (from Leon) with your signature mug placed on the side table (...Leon) was exactly how he liked to find you. As much as it pained him to interrupt your reading, he always comes in to greet you, heart lightening at your expression at seeing him home, even if it was in the middle of a sentence.
Basically, Leon knew he made the right choice in choosing you to marry. He thought it would never happen to find someone who was his light even when you weren't paying attention to him. Just the mere sight of you had his heart racing. His safe space was with you, and with you always came the books and the comfort, so for the rest of his life, he knew he was bound to think of you every time he looked at a leather bound hardcover, already being able to picture you flipping through it.
a/n: i'm sorry for being silent! as i said before, the semester is in swing and i only have a month left now! i'm still thinking up ideas for my next full length, but i have not disappeared yet. please check out my others in the meantime if you haven’t already, and i will continue to work hard to make sure i deliver to my utmost quality. thank you for reading <3
#leon kennedy#resident evil#resident evil fanfiction#leon kennedy fanfiction#leon kennedy x reader#fanfiction#leon s kennedy#resident evil 4#resident evil 2#leon kennedy x gn reader
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Everyone Grows Old
x gn reader
written more as an author-insert but can also be read as a x-reader
-- -- --
Y/n had been staring at itself in the mirror for quite some time now, so lost in their thoughts that it didn't hear Leon enter. Knocking on the door frame. 'Penny for your thoughts?' Their hands shot away from their hair, acting as if they were just smoothing the fly-away's down. 'Oh it's nothing.' Turning off the faucet, realizing it had forgotten to do so after brushing its teeth. Leon raised an eyebrow at their pitiful lie. 'Wanna try that again?' Leon knew it had something to do with their hair as they'd been wearing more hats and accessories over the past week.
'My hair's started to go gray.' Pointing out the strains that instead of being a vibrant y/h/c hue, were a stark silver. Leon pulled them from its spot in front of the mirror, directing them to sit on their shared bed. 'Why does it trouble you so much, hun?'
'It's not just the gray hair, I've been losing it in chunks. It's just my hair has always been the one thing people have always complimented me on.' Refusing to meet his eyes, y/n stared at the wall, past Leon's shoulder. Cupping its face, 'there's more to you than your hair. Plus I somewhat get it. Aging fucks with the brain. You know how weird it is to look at yourself in photos and suddenly there's crows feet near your eyes?'
'But I love those on you! Look less angry.' Laughing as they protested. 'Well, I'm glad to hear someone likes them. Also you're not the only one. Look at the top of my head.' Following his instruction, '--you're balding?' Leon sheepishly nodded in confirmation. 'But hey, at least we get to grow old together.'
'You're such a sap.'
'You chose to marry this sap.'
After a minute of silence, y/n spoke up again. 'I love you.'
'Love you too.'
#resident evil#resident evil vendetta#re vendetta#leon kennedy#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy x gn reader#resident evil x reader#x gn reader#x gender neutral reader#wiptober#wiptober 2023#they/it pronouns used for reader
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He's so silly
Y/N, trying to hype up Leon’s low self esteem : I’m serious! You look good, anybody would be lucky to have you, an—and you’re such a good person, like—
Leon, stares blankly at them : So date me.
Y/N, stunned :
Y/N : What?
Leon : So date me.
Y/N, slowly backing up : I mean. …..I’m not…..
Leon, suddenly beeline towards them : You said I’m a good person, so date me.
Y/N, suddenly the room feels hot : yeah but—
Leon, kabedon them to the wall : You said anybody would be lucky to have me, so be lucky.
Leon, tips their chin up to his searing hot stare : Date me.
#Resident Evil#Resident Evil x reader#Resident Evil incorrect quotes#Resident Evil Leon#Leon S. Kennedy#Leon Kennedy#Leon S. Kennedy x reader#Leon S. Kennedy x you#Leon S. Kennedy x oc#Leon Kennedy x male reader#Leon Kennedy x fem reader#Leon Kennedy x gn reader#Leon Kennedy x reader#Leon Kennedy x you#Resident Evil fluff#i would literally eat him up because i love him so much kts hnreal
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Shower Thoughts ₊˚.༄
MDNI // NSFW
He can’t get you out of his head. The hot shower streams down his tense face.
He thought that it would distract him from the wet dream he had about you riding him holding onto his cock so tight. With the stupid cute smirk you always give him.
Groaning as his dick hardens once again aching for your sensitive wet hole.
He wraps his hand around his thickness moaning out your name like a prayer asking you to fit him inside you.
Thoughts continue to stream out of his mind the water making his slippery shiny skin desperate for your touch, your warmth.
Thinking about you putting your tongue on him, opening your mouth and welcoming his needy cock into your pretty mouth.
He goans out as cum spurs against the shower wall painting the blue tile white.
He sighs knowing he has to wash all over again and your still not here begging for his cock.
♡ DABI, Shigaraki, BAKUGOU, Kirishima, GETO, Gojo, EREN, Levi, Armin, JEAN, Leon, König ♡
Likes, Reblogs, and Comments appreciated
#levi x reader#levi ackerman x reader#levi ackerman x you#levi ackerman smut#dabi smut#dabi x reader#dabi x you#dabi x y/n#gn reader#gender neutral reader#bakugou x reader#bakugou x y/n#bakugou katuski x reader#bakugou smut#geto x reader#gojo x reader#gojo smut#armin arlet x reader#armin smut#jean kirschtein x reader#jean kirsten smut#jean kirschtein smut#jean kirsten x reader#kirishima x reader#kirishima x you#kirishima smut#shigaraki x reader#shigaraki smut#leon kennedy x reader#konig x reader
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Y’all need to understand what gender neutral actually means. Saying “This fic is gender neutral and there are no pronouns or descriptors used” then using “pretty girl” or “that’s my girl” immediately after is NOT gender neutral! Stay out of our spaces if you can’t respect us.
#gender neutral x reader#daryl dixon x gn!reader#simon riley x gn reader#daryl dixon x reader#simon riley x reader#ace x reader#portgas ace x reader#joel miller x reader#joel miller x gn!reader#spy x reader#sniper x reader#eustass kid x reader#kid x reader#killer x reader#thomas hewitt x reader#crocodile x reader#mihawk x reader#cod x gn!reader#star wars x reader#crosshair x reader#jacob seed x reader#Jacob seed x gn!reader#arthur morgan x gn!reader#arthur morgan x reader#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy x gn!reader#michael myers x reader#the penguin x reader#levi ackerman x reader#levi ackerman x gn!reader
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Resident Evil – Oneshot [Leon Scott Kennedy X GN!Reader]
Pronouns used for Reader; They/Them
Warnings; Panic attack, Mentions/Thoughts of Injury/Death/Kidnapping
Summary; Leon comes home to his partner late at night after a long mission and realizes that they're not there, he panics thinking something happened to them when in Reality they had just been out with friends.
Authors Notes; wanted to make this Angst, decided against it because I thought that this man has had enough trauma in his life, now it has a happy ending and just passages of Leon having mental illness.
Kinda on the shorter side since a) I wanted to get This out faster because I'm currently working on two other oneshots and this one was just a really short idea I had and b) I needed to write a tad bit of comfort because I was thinking of Leon during the time in-between re2 and re4 and how much he had to go through (he needs a hug fr)
During his whole life Leon never thought he'd end up with having to go on days long missions that end in him coming home at one in the morning. Only a few years prior he had thought he'd get to sit in the RPD all day long, catch criminals and come home to a cold flat with maybe a cat waiting for him. To be brutally honest, Leon didn't think that he'd end up as a Special Agent that fights against mutated, infected freaks for a living. Not that he was complaining, for all the working close to death the job paid good. Good enough for him to afford the whole flat by himself and still be able to get himself everything he wanted.
But god knew his partner, and roommate, sure as hell didn't let him pay the rent. Leon kept on insisting that he wouldn't mind the paying, saying that it wouldn't even hurt his pocket one bit, yet they were stubborn enough to not care. Leon smiled. He was glad he had found someone that truly understood him and still agreed to dating him. If he didn't know better he'd say they did it for the money, but due to all their bickering about paying rent and getting upset at him when he bought them expensive gifts for no reason he knew that they truly loved him. Even though he had his flaws – many at that.
Leon got his keys out as he approached the Appartment building, wondering which of their neighbours had left their lights on as he unlocked the entrance door. He actually disliked living in a huge apartment block, but in today's economy he couldn't really choose, though he could probably just buy a house. He had to be able to get everywhere in the city fast though, so living further outside – as much as he wanted to – would be an issue. He would probably have to ask Hunnigan or someone else about getting him off the call list for immediate reply. He noted that he should've done that when he started dating again, yet he hadn't been bothered at the time. The second he got into a relationship though, things had become a lot more difficult.
Inside the building Leon contemplated whether he was going to take the elevator or not. He was tired and didn't want anything more than to slip under the covers of the bed he shared with his partner and sleep, but the fear of being stuck in an elevator this late at night got the better of him. He took the stairs up to the floor his apartment was on. He had never been someone who was afraid of small spaces, let alone elevators, but due to his many, many times being stuck in one and the horrors he had faced in small passages both somewhat made him shiver. He still wasn't scared, he wouldn't say that, he just had a strong dislike and tried his best to avoid them as best as he could. Plus he didn't mind the extra cardio he got through climbing the stairs. Though this was more like a simple morning exercise than an actual workout for Leon. Still, once on his floor he could feel the effects of it in his legs. The slight burning made him remember that he had been on his feet for a long time already, he really should've taken the elevator. Things couldn't be changed though and Leon was already at the apartment door, carefully unlocking it, trying his best to stay quiet as to not wake the only person that truly mattered to him personally.
The apartment was quiet, after all it was the middle of the night – Leon knew that the sleep schedule of his partner was surprisingly healthy, even though they loved staying up late. He quickly stashed away his shoes, not noticing that one pair was missing, and hung his jacket right beside his other one. He frowned for a moment, wondering why his partners jacket was nowhere to be found. In the end he just decided that they had thrown it over the couch again, as they often did when they couldn't wait to get into bed. Yet upon walking through the small living room Leon once again was taken aback by their jacket missing. He now hurried to the shared bedroom, not actually caring about whether or not he was being too loud anymore.
Leon stopped all his movement once he saw the bed, without his partner in it, untouched. The pillows neatly sat beside each other, the blankets laid flatly on the matrace like all their fluffiness had been pushed out – Leon overanalyzed the whole bed to find any hints of it having been used. He had to come to terms with his partner not being at home, without any notice towards him. His hurried steps took him to the little planner his partner used to keep track of any meetings or events they had going on, not finding anything that would excuse their absence. His mind was running wild already, thinking about all the ways they could have possibly been injured – maybe they were at the hospital, maybe they were at someone else's house, Leon didn't even want to think about it. Besides, they knew he was coming home today. He had told them a few hours ago while he was still busy with noting down the important parts of what happened on the mission. Nothing explained why they weren't home.
He hastily took note of their phone hanging on the charger in the kitchen, frantically searching the entire flat for any signs of a fight. Leon wouldn't be able to forgive himself if he found out his partner had been kidnapped. He checked every window, every door, every corner, nothing gave him information of the whereabouts of them. He sat down on the couch, head on his knees, hands pressed to the back of his neck. It slowly dawned on him how many possibilities there were why they weren't home. His mind was filled with images of his partner being taken away, hurt or worse, killed. He didn't even notice that he started sobbing, only taking a second to realize once he felt the tears hit his knees. It didn't distract him for long, instead panic took him over once again. He wanted to search the flat a second time, maybe he had missed something, maybe this was just a bad dream and they were eight beside him, but he stopped himself, unable to move from his spot. He froze up, his nails digging into the flesh of his neck, Leon didn't even register the pain. He sat there for what felt like an eternity, beating himself up for not being able to protect even one person – the one person that still mattered to him at that.
In his panic and through his sobs Leon didn't hear the door unlock. They heard him immediately though. Rushing to his weeping figure, softly loosening his hands from his neck, taking them into their own instead. Leon took a while to notice. Once he did, he wrapped his arms around his lovers waist tightly, pulling them into him, not wanting to ever let go. His face was squashed against their shoulder, tears starting to get soaked into the fabric of their shirt. They softly ran their hands through his hair in a soothing matter, lowly humming one of Leon's favourite songs, knowing both would help him calm down.
»Thought I lost you...« The taller mumbled against his lovers shoulder after regaining enough stability to trust his voice again. »'m sorry baby my friend called, she had a shit time and I went to hers without leaving a note. I'm here now, I'm sorry.« The mumbled back, pressing a soft kiss onto the others head. Leon somehow pressed himself further against his partner, almost as if he'd die if he was even just an inch away from them. »'s fine just... Leave a note if that happens again...« Leon managed to huff, smiling softly once he felt the other nod and heard their soft hum.
After a while the two agreed to finally get ready for bed, though Leon clung to his partner the whole time, making everything a bit difficult. He had chosen to completely stay by his lovers side the whole night, wanting to absolutely make sure nothing would happen, and they let him, holding his hand while falling asleep against his chest. Leon on the other hand stayed awake a bit longer, partially because he couldn't sleep, partially because he wanted to protect the other.
Plus he could never get enough of his lovers peaceful face when sleeping.
#leon s kennedy x reader#leon kennedy#leon kennedy x gn reader#leon s kennedy#resident evil leon#leon kennedy x gn!reader#gn reader#re4#resident evil#oneshot#resident evil one shot
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4th Cup
Summary: reader is a freelance mercenary who falls for the new customer(Leon) at the cafe they frequent. [fluff]
Leon(RE4) x GN!Reader
Note: I really love the casual outfit / There's no violence or action / First-person
Word count: 1564
Bored.
I sat at the booth in a small tidy coffee shop in a quiet city staring at my phone laying in the middle of the table. My contact hadn’t text back since last night and I was fearing another client had gotten cold feet. It was typical in the line of work I made for myself. One mention of “freelance mercenary” and people either took it as a joke or were too scared to talk again. Needless to say, my social life was usually about as empty as my client list.
“I guess that preorder will have to wait.” I said out loud to myself, thinking of the figure I had my eyes set on as the waitress poured more coffee in what was probably my third cup, or I was hoping it was only the third.
“Don’t worry I’m sure it won’t sell out. Besides at least you can still pay your bills?” The waitress, Diana, smiled at me with a face that said “especially your coffee, right?”
“Don’t I already pay you to sit here on a weekly basis?” I playfully jabbed.
“Oh, you’re no fun.” She smiled back and knocked on the table. “Hope you get a catch this week, coffees on the house.”
Diana walked back behind the counter and started cleaning the froth and milk off of the equipment.
“Yeah, the only thing I’m catching this week is bills…” I said to myself as I started to kill my coffee, ready to give up and leave. I was halfway through my drink when I saw him walk in from behind the cup on my lips. He was wearing a blue flight jacket, sleeves slid up to his elbows as much as he could over his muscular forearms, though he didn’t seem like a pilot and wore it more for fashion. His jeans were so tight you could see the shape of his legs. Obviously, whatever this guy did for a living made him the most fit person I’d seen since I moved here years ago.
With every step he took, my heartbeat quickened. His mere presence was magnetic, drawing me in like a helpless victim. “Blonde, blue eyes…” I whispered to myself making a mental note as I stared at his hair. It was like a Japanese idol walked into the building. I watched as he ordered his drink—a cappuccino with a sprinkle of charisma, I imagined. Our eyes met for an instant as he turned to walk out, and in that fleeting moment, I felt Cupid’s arrow.
I got up and rushed over to the order counter. “Did he give a name? It was an advanced order, right?” I asked frantically.
“Oh no I had it ready for him.” Diana answered before she turned to face me. “I think he’s new to town, he just started coming in a few days ago. Always orders the cappuccino and sits at the window booth until he rushes out. Must have been late for something today…”
“What time? What days?” I asked, desperation spilling from my voice.
“Please don’t stalk my customer, he actually pays me.” Diana sarcastically joked.
“I’m not- “I stopped and l at her sternly although I knew she was joking.
“Okay okay, sorry.” She chuckled at me. “You might want to puff up your chest from 1 to 3pm every day lovebird. But he doesn’t seem like the talkative type. Just sits and stares out the window.”
“Might have to move some appointments but okay… thanks!” I rushed out as I heard Diana yell out “Good luck!” from behind though I couldn’t tell if it was sarcastic or not.
The rest of the week consisted of me sitting at my regular booth trying my best to blend in and spy on the new customer for anything I could use to my advantage. I took her words with a grain of salt but everything Diana said was spot on, same time, same table, same drink. He’d look out the window as the sun shone down on his face and his beautiful blonde hair. “Wish my hair looked that good anytime…” I grumbled to myself looking at his lazily combed hair. It was like he didn’t even try and yet he exuded such an eye-catching aura. Small pangs of worry washed over me anytime I saw someone checking him out.
“Just introduce yourself already.” Diana caught me off guard and broke my gaze.
“But… I don’t know… should I even bother him? He looks so comfortable. So serene.” I couldn’t help but get lost in the adonis again.
“you’re not going to win him over just sitting here. C’mon I’ve never seen you like this before.” Diana gave me a pat on the back before walking behind the counter.
With my newfound confidence borne from Diana’s encouragement, I mustered the courage to approach him. I sauntered over to him and mustered my most charming smile.
"Hey," I casually greeted, trying not to lose my cool. "Mind if I join you?"
He glanced up, his eyebrow arched inquisitively. Then, after a moment's consideration, he nodded.
"Not at all," he replied nonchalantly as he went back to staring out the window.
"Great!"
I sat down across from him, trying to act like I wasn't fazed by his indifference. I looked back at Diana who shot me a thumbs up. "So, what's your name?" I asked.
He gave me another glance and answered as he looked out at the bustling street. “Leon.”
A few moments passed in silence. I looked out the window, wondering what caught his attention so much every day, seemed the same to me or maybe I’ve just been here too long. I needed to get his attention either way, couldn’t risk fucking this up.
"So, how do you like the coffee here?" I asked, trying to break the deep silence.
"It's decent," he said, taking a sip.
I sighed. This was going nowhere fast and the silence was starting to kill what little courage I had mustered up. Accepting defeat, I stood up. "Well, it was nice meeting you, Leon" I said, trying not to show my disappointment. "I'll leave you alone now."
"Wait." He said, finally breaking his gaze from the window.
I stopped, turning back towards him. "Yes?"
"You know, it's rude to leave someone hanging like that," he said, finally making eye contact. His gaze pierced into my heart, it was so serious, cool, and sexy. My heart started to beat like crazy.
"Oh, um, sorry." I sat back down, fidgeting with my hands.
"You seem nervous," he commented, noticing said hands.
"Well, you're kind of intimidating." I said in the nicest way I could with a nervous laugh.
He chuckled. "I get that a lot. But I assure you, I don’t bite."
"Yeah, sure." I said with pouting lips, trying to be cute and funny.
He sighed. "I'm sorry if I'm coming off as aloof. I’m just not really into small talk anymore."
"Well, why did you agree to sit with me then?" I asked, confused.
"Because you seem like an interesting person," he admitted.
"Really?"
He nodded. "Yeah, and you're kind of cute, too." He took another sip.
My face turned bright red. "W-what?" I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. This Prince Charming was calling me cute. Me.
"You're blushing," he teased.
"Am not." I said with a face as red as a tomato.
Leon chuckled. "Relax, I'm just teasing you.” He took another sip. “But it’s true.”
I was speechless. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. It seemed I wasn’t the only one hit with an arrow.
“So, what do you do besides watch me from across the Café?” Leon joked as he changed the subject and brought my attention back. Though I was surprised he had even noticed.
“How’d you-? Uhm I’m freelance….” I said hesitantly, afraid my job title would ruin this chance too.
“Artist?”
“Mercenary” I cringed a little inside, ready for it all to crumble away.
“I guess I was right about you being interesting.” Leon smiled, as if he was proud he guessed right.
"And you?" I said, surprised that he hadn’t left the tip and ran off the second the word left my mouth.
"Oh, I'm just an agent," he said, before taking another sip.
"An agent, huh? That's awesome." Images of movies stars and singers flashed in my head. Of course he was, he had the look.
"Yep. It pays the bills." He said, not elaborating any further.
We continued chatting, and I was surprised to find that we had a lot in common. And, despite his frosty exterior, he was actually pretty funny. As we talked, I found myself falling for him more and more. He was intelligent, charming, and just plain cool. Suddenly, the spell was broken.
"Oh, shit," he cursed, glancing at his watch. "I'm going to be late."
"For what?"
“The job calls.”
He stood up, taking his jacket and coffee. "It was nice talking to you."
"Likewise," I said, unable to hide the disappointment in my voice.
"Don't worry, we'll meet again." He said reassuringly.
"Really?" I said hopeful.
He smiled. "I'll make sure of it."
With that, he left, leaving me alone with my coffee. As I watched him walk away, I felt a mixture of emotions. Happiness, infatuation, and a strange sense of hope.
#Leon S Kennedy x reader#Leon Kennedy x reader#Resident Evil 4 Leon#Leon S Kennedy x GN reader#Leon Kennedy x GN Reader#Leon S kennedy#Leon Kennedy fluff#Leon Kennedy drabble#reno2005fics
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ᥫ᭡ . # ۫ , ⸺ UNCHAINED MELODY, PART SEVEN !
summary :: surviving raccoon city together, you catch the affections of leon kennedy, ada wong, jill valentine, and carlos oliveira. six years later, you reunite with them and realize their obsession with you has increased tenfold.
chapters :: the masterlist.
word count :: 23.3k
content warnings :: mdni! yandere!leon, yandere!ada, yandere!jill, yandere!carlos, love triangle, kidnapping, violence/death, ptsd, suic1dal tendencies, alcoholism/alcohol use, invasion of privacy, unprotected s3x, non-c0n, master k1nk (reader is called this), mommy k1nk (ada is called this), p3t-play, drugging (use of aphr0disiacs without knowledge), face-sitting, squirting, s3x toys, & physical restraint.
──── Yellow light bleeds through your closed vision. When you blink away the remaining clumps of sleep in your eyes, you find yourself in the passenger seat of a vehicle. Your stomach twists with newfound fear, as though your body were wringing a wet towel.
Before you can question how you somehow time-traveled to the tea-induced unconsciousness forced by Jill and Carlos, a voice permeates the silence.
“Morning, sunshine.”
Nearly snapping your neck, you turn your head to find Leon Kennedy behind the steering wheel.
With a soft grin on his face, he shifts his gaze from the road, to you, then back again. He’d much rather stare in awe at the way your chest rises and falls with tranquility, but alas, he cannot. He’s well aware of what occurred the last time he drove with you. Like Hell will he allow anything of the sort to happen again.
“Oh… So, it wasn’t a dream.” You mutter sleepily, some lasting despondency dragging with your sluggish speech.
Lowering your head, you discover your opossum plushy nestled in your arms. Still adorned in the silken ribbon from earlier, but missing the handwritten note from Ada tucked beneath.
Leon most likely crumpled the paper and tossed it in the garbage, always the territorial dog he is. You still remember the savagery in his eyes whenever you’d speak to coworkers at Mizoil about recent gas prices or late paychecks.
Speak of the devil, Leon is quick to save you from your inner turmoil.
“Stay with me, Y/N. ‘Promise you’re safe here… You’ll never need to worry about anything ever again...”
He rests his hand on your knee, massaging soothing circles into your flesh. You’d surely succumb to the lulling motions and fall asleep, had your brain not been wrecked with surging questions.
“I-I don’t understand. What’s happening? Where are we going?”
Leon’s hand finds yours. Calloused fingers interlock with your shivering digits, lightly squeezing your palm as a means of reassurance. A firm reminder that he is here. Always. And he will not be leaving your side anytime soon.
“I have a cabin up in the mountains. The safe house. Our safe house.”
The last time you lived with someone in the woods, it ended very poorly. You pray Leon does not share any notion with your previous partners.
Despite these worries, another special someone remains on your mind.
“What of… What about Tyrell? Will he be joining us?”
Trying to shield the hope in your tone was a lost cause. Especially when spoken to a secret agent of all people, who studies every twitch and timbre in your voice as easily as a picture book. All of which tells him you like Tyrell.
Leon’s knuckles bloom in hues of white the tighter he clenches the steering wheel. Jealousy like never before courses through his bloodstream.
Even in the presence of others who are not afraid to show their attraction to you, he never encountered emotions so grand. When it is you who displays the perceptible favoritism, Leon has to physically restrain himself from whipping the car around, speeding back to Tyrell’s home, and beating him to a bloody pulp.
You, safe and sound in his humble abode, and that man, rotting six feet under — that is really all Leon could ask for. Maybe even the death of a certain red-obsessed mercenary, but as tenacious as she is, there is no hope for such a fate.
“Nope. No Tyrell. Gonna be just us for a while.”
The disappointment that washes over your face is catastrophic for Leon. It is almost enough for him to consider tearing himself apart to become the version of Tyrell you adore so much. Carving away at his features, nails and hammers to his flesh, and plucking every piece of his personality to claim as his. Anything to make you think of Leon alone in that regard. No one else.
“Hey, I swear you’ll enjoy it here.” He cannot tell whether he’s trying to assure you or himself of this. “We’ll have bonfires, hikes, car rides like this. I’ll even take you on a canoe ride around the lake, if you’d like.”
“And what about after that?”
He pauses, casting a quick glance of confusion your way.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, what will happen once all of this blows over and we can leave the safe house? When can I live on my own?”
Leon tenses. He does not like this topic; he’d rather speak more of the romantic dates you’ll have in the mountains together.
Mornings will be spent watching the fog settle across the surrounding forest, hands interlocked with one another and enjoying steaming cups of tea and coffee. Nights will be spent cuddled by the campfire, indulging yourselves in sugary kisses smeared with melted marshmallows and sticky chocolate.
He’ll spend his days with you nestled in his arms as he rows you around the lake, cooing over the way your heavy eyes droop and you drift off to the sound of gentle waves.
After six long, tortuous years, you’ve finally returned to him and dipped a toe into the thrashing waves of his life. And like some famished, deep-sea creature, Leon’s hand ensnares around your ankle and pulls you into the depths. Seized in his arms and to never part again.
Here, life will become what Leon has always wanted it to be: sunlit and alive.
“Hey, watch out!”
You’re shocked you hadn’t launched out the windshield by how violently Leon slammed on the brakes. His arm stretches over your chest in an attempt at protecting you, the aggressive and desperate motion enough to bruise your ribs.
When he looks to identify what danger intends to take you away from him, he finds a raccoon. How fitting. The critter scurries across the road before vanishing into a nearby array of bushes.
“Are-Are y-” Leon swallows a scratching cough. “Are you okay?”
The stunned silence is accompanied by his stuttering, shaky breaths. His trembling hand finds your shoulder. Grasping tightly, as though you would wrangle yourself out of his grasp and limp away. Just as he watched you do in Raccoon City.
You do not answer him. Instead, a smile creeps onto your face before you burst with loud laughter. The sight sends electric bolts straight through his chest; the mellifluous sound filling his ears like warm, oozing honey. A sound so heavenly, in fact, Leon finds himself laughing with you, despite the hammering speeds of his fearful heart.
You raise your opossum in presentation with a sun-bright smile still stamped on your face. “I think the little guy just wanted to visit his friend.”
You’re sent into another series of adorable laughter and candy-sweet giggles. Leon studies every tone of your amusement and stamps them into his memory. He has seen many versions of you, yes, but never complete happiness. Sheer, unadulterated, beautiful happiness. And he solemnly swears to keep this emotion perennial, for now and forevermore.
When your laughing fit dies down, only then does Leon begin to drive again. As he accelerates forward, you look his way and begin to absorb his appearance.
He does not look very different than he did before. Perceptible creases deepened on his skin and have replaced that baby-face he was once notorious for, however.
“’There something on my face?”
You flush upon realizing how long you had been dissecting his appearance. Fortunately, that witty humor of his mends any lasting embarrassment.
You had almost forgotten about the newcomer in town you met several years ago. When you see his chapped lips stretch into that pretty-boy smile, you’re reminded of how that rookie at the R.P.D. still lives inside him.
“I’m sorry, you just… You don’t look any different than when we first met.”
Now, it is his turn to blush.
His eyebrows raise in shock. He turns his head to search your face for a sign of a joke. Though, with how focused he is on the road ahead (and his poor luck with driving), he is granted no opportunity. The silence that settles tells Leon all of how truthful you are.
To make matters even worse for him and his flustered self, you continue your thorough inspection of his appearance.
That dull, pallid color casted upon his face has restored its lively, childlike tint. Now, you can fully see that rosy flush cloud his creamy skin.
His eyes are a misty blue with scattered specks of gray. The most prominent feature of his eyes, however, was the life within them. And back on those loading docks, you witnessed first-hand as that liveliness returned.
Beneath their glittering luster holds the last few remnants of innocence he still has. For too long, they had been vacant and soulless — a permanent scar of that day in September. Excitement, adventure, and ambition now glimmers with every blink. You look into them and can only find that young man who visited your gas station to offer clumsy pick-up lines and hefty tips.
“I’d tell you to take a picture if I didn’t mind you staring at me so much.” Leon’s voice has deepened to a gentler husk over time. Aged like a fine whiskey.
The wind passing through the window tousles with his hair, capturing your attention. You notice how the color of his hair has changed over the years, as well. The dark tones of his roots now fading into a dimmer blonde.
To answer his statement, you reach over and sink your fingers into the strands and ruffle the locks. He laughs in response and playfully pushes you back to your seat with tender effort. From here, you finally halt your scrutinization and return your gaze to the forestry outside.
That adoring, lopsided smile remains permanent on Leon’s face for the rest of the car ride.
And that very smile is entirely formidable, you conclude. Time passes by and still, this happiness of his does not falter in the slightest.
It has now been over three months since you stepped foot into Leon’s cabin. More notably, it has now been three months since you’ve stepped foot out of Leon’s cabin.
You’ve become accustomed to the routine of waking up to gloomy clouds and shadowed sunshine. As you stir awake now, you study the bedroom you currently reside in.
On the bed, where you lay, cushiony comforters are embraced by fluffy, knitted blankets. Leon is satisfied with sleeping with one pillow, but he bought several more for you to sleep with, of which you use heartily. Only a fool would miss the way he wishes you’d use his chest to rest your head on instead.
Fairy lights are woven around the wooden beams supporting the ceiling. Directly beneath is a rug stretched across the floor, where the original intricate design is now convoluted with dirt and grime. A lit fireplace is centered directly across from the king-sized bed, protecting you from the bitter temperatures outside. Not that the protection is necessary, as you can always find a certain warm body draped around you.
Outside, a porch ensnares around the walls of the exterior, where two rocking chairs are situated right beside each other. They overlook the layer of fog resting upon the adjacent lake, surrounded by miles and miles of pine trees.
Through the front entrance, you step directly into the living room. The interior is elucidated by soft, golden lamplights. More knitted blankets and pillows adorn the surface of the handmade couch. A hand-carved bookshelf holds the weight of a myriad of books.
The living room goes hand-in-hand with the kitchen. A wooden stove, rustic pots, and even more ancient kitchen utensils scatter around the small expanse. Tucked in the corner of the kitchen is a timber table with a candle as a centerpiece, joined by two wooden dining chairs.
Down the hall and opposite of the bedroom is a bathroom akin to the size of a shoebox. A stone-walled shower contains all your preferred soaps and washes, as well as Leon’s classic scents of amber and cedar-wood. There is a mirror strung above the log-supported sink with, what you could swear is, a blinking red light tucked in the corner of the glass.
Relaxing and cozy is this cabin, yes, but it is all a temporary living situation. Then, you can step into the real world and see what life has to offer you.
At least, that is what Leon claims.
What you are unaware of is that in these six years without you, wrecked by your death, Leon built this cabin as his final resting place.
His time was devoted to operating his plans of destroying Umbrella and slaving the hours away on this property, crafting every ounce of love and detail into the estate. After his goals reached success, Leon would venture back here where no one would find him. Then, he would end his life.
When he reaches the afterlife, he will find your soul there. Waiting for him. You and him would then spend the rest of time with one another, happily haunting the halls of your humble abode.
These plans have, of course, fallen short when he learned your precious heart was still beating. Now, Leon intends on residing in the cabin for the rest of his life, indulging in the rays of sunlight held in his arms.
There are still a few finishing details that require his aid, some last screws to be fastened and whatnot, but it will remain of utmost perfection as long as he is here with you. Then, when your long, amazing life inevitably reaches its final chapter, he will end his life right beside you.
Leon intends on spending eternity here with you. No matter what shifts and changes may occur in the trajectory of your lives.
Picturesque as his beloved cabin is, you’re still overwhelmed with the feeling of being trapped. And God, do these feelings puncture you with guilt. All that he has done and sacrificed for you, just for you to return his efforts with rejection and discomfort – you’d hate yourself if you were him.
Even though you perceive your desires as selfish, you still can’t help but wonder how fruitful your life could be if you were to be alone-
“Jesus, fuck-!”
Shifting your vision to your right, you swear your heart nearly collapses into itself when you find Leon. Chin rested on his palm, you had caught him in the middle of watching you. Intently.
His staring does not cease upon your frightened reaction, either. It remains just as it was, with a new grin spreading on his face. You’re just like a baby mouse, eyes blown wide in fear of the vicious world around them. Too fucking cute.
Face hidden behind your hands, you catch your breath and question him.
“Jesus Christ… How long have you been watching me?”
With a lighthearted titter, he answers.
“Not for long. Just over three hours.”
With every day the fog settles, you have come to learn several new things.
Oh, how Leon Kennedy loves the sight of Y/N L/N.
It is evident throughout every day, where fragments of his obsession are sprinkled into every moment you spend together.
Eyes still glued to your every move, his burly arms encompass around your waist and pull you closer to him, chest now cemented to your back. Languid kisses are littered across your jaw like confetti dispersed upon a stage.
Ever since you arrived here, Leon always insisted on sharing a bed with you. Even going as far as to exclaim in faux dismay: “Oh, no! There is only one bed!”, as though he had not decorated the cabin himself.
He further asserts how sleeping beside you is the best course of action in keeping you safe from any creeping danger. When he then takes your chin between his two fingers and presses a hard kiss to your mouth, moaning in fervent contentment, you fail to see how this is meant to “protect” you.
Despite this, you have grown familiar with these sleeping arrangements beneath the sheets with Jill and Carlos.
Speaking of those two, their memory stirs your stomach.
You do not know if Leon is aware of their existence and what you endured under their care. You don’t know where they currently are, either. If they are even dead or alive…
These thoughts are immaterial, you assure yourself. They are far, far away and will never lay a finger on you.
Nagging thoughts like these are especially assuaged in the morning, where you can cook breakfast for you and Leon. Even just the sight of a pan in your grasp would be enough to get Carlos sweating, further proving the two are not lurking in any hidden corners. He’d surely die just seeing you mere inches away from a knife block.
Sure, it may have had to take a few voluntary cuddles and some puppy-dog eyes, but eventually, Leon caved and gave you permission to cook. Despite how ecstatic you are to receive some form of autonomy, you always remain careful in your efforts. One nick to your skin and this privilege will be yanked from your hands before you have the chance to enjoy it.
Now, you stand here in the kitchen, poking and prodding at the sizzling eggs on the stove. Although you are certainly no chef, you managed to pick up a few skills while watching Carlos prepare your meals. Leon always praises your culinary works, nonetheless. The clean plate he leaves behind tells you such.
Leon himself is currently outside the residence, gathering lumber for the bedroom fireplace. It is one of the rare occurrences where you are granted solitude, so you revel in the time as thoroughly as you can.
He sought after time off work for the sole reason of never spending a second without you. Wearing the badge of surviving Raccoon City then saving the notorious Baby-Eagle has earned him many points with his superiors, granting him permission to bring home the bacon without partaking in any labor.
You joke to yourself about becoming the classic 50’s housewife as you set the table.
Two plates of steaming omelets with a cup of tea for yourself and a glass of sparkling water for Leon. He alluded to his problems with alcohol on one occasion, but he informed you of how he was receiving help. This ‘help’ remains a mystery to you, but you assume his choice of beverage plays a role in this assistance.
Although the problems you face are much different than his, you can’t help but wonder if you’ll ever receive help when you finally leave this-
“Fucking christ!”
When you turn your shoulder to set your apron away, you swear your heart, once again, nearly collapses into itself when you find Leon. Standing just at the threshold of the kitchen, watching your every move. Intently.
All he does is shoot you that same grin, complemented with a light chortle, before sitting down at the table. God, how long was he standing there? Did he even leave the cabin!?
With a deep breath, you join him at his side. Before you can even take hold of any cutlery, something tugs at your chair. You glance down to find Leon’s hand ensnared around your chair leg, before he pulls you closer to him. Now shoulder to shoulder, he plants a prolonged kiss to your cheek as a silent way of thanking you and an apology for startling you, before digging into his meal.
You then begin consuming the works of your hard work, as well. In the midst of eating, Leon speaks about the plans for the day ahead. And for the umpteenth time, he broaches the idea of enjoying a boat ride around the lake.
With the shimmering hope in his eyes, you know very well of what he is asking you. After all, you remember your first boat ride very well.
Watching the fish swim through the murky waters, listening to the birds sing and frogs croak, sinking your fingers into the stream and toying with the waves – enjoying the nature outside serves as a lovely memory.
Much to Leon’s shock (and yours as well, if you are honest), you halted his rowing and pulled him into your very first kiss. As stingy as your affection is, he clung to whatever slivers he could grasp. And to receive something as breathtaking as your kiss, he could have sworn the world shattered around him.
Ever since then, the desperate man has been nudging you in the direction of giving him another. Or any scrap of affection, for that matter.
You take your last sip of tea and agree to Leon’s advances of a boat ride, ignoring the elation that floods his face in response.
Some time out of this stuffy cabin is what you have been needing. Maybe you’ll even give him another kiss in the end. As much as you hate to admit it, your lover is quite handsome. Also very fun to kiss. Annoyingly so.
Unfortunately for Leon, the boat ride you enjoyed that morning was devoid of any physical affections. As the day continues along, however, you can’t help but wonder if some affection is what Leon needs. Maybe then, he’ll be satiated, and finally, you’ll be granted more time to yourself…
As dusk settles in, though, you begin to notice a perceptible excitement within Leon. It is nothing out of the ordinary, as he always harbors some form of elation around you. Tonight, however, this gleam sparkled differently.
An hour managed to pass by, spent scouring through a book you plucked from the living room bookshelf. And so absorbed in the wondrous world of ‘Woodworking 4 Dummies’, you had not realized how long it has been since you last saw Leon. This phenomenon was strange, as your puppy-dog is always at your hip like a tight belt.
You are only enlightened on this peculiarity when Leon enters through the front door moments later.
He is adorned with that familiar shimmer in his eye, but you also notice how he has his hair slicked back. You can easily recall the occurrence where he laid his head on your chest and you ran your fingers through his blonde strands, before impulsively telling him he looked sexy with his hair pushed back.
Embarrassed, you prayed he was too drowsy to hear your spontaneous compliment. When you found a mountain of hair gel in the bathroom a day later, you realize then how wrong you were. Though, who are you to complain when you’ve got good eye-candy standing right in front of you?
“Sunshine! ‘Got something for ya.”
Your book is robbed from your possession and tossed onto the couch surface, where your attention is then forcibly diverted to Leon. Exactly where he needs it most.
His hands, soft as they always are, guide you to your feet. They are then placed over your eyes.
“Is it something that I’m not allowed to see?”
A kiss to your head, he answers. “Not yet. Gonna have to let me be your legs for a while. Unless you want me to carry you there?”
Please say yes.
“Lead the way, Mr. Kennedy!”
The disappointment he feels fades quickly as he begins to guide you out the front door.
The bite of the early-night chill crawls up your arms. If it weren’t for the strong chest pressed against your back, you’d surely succumb to the shivering temperatures.
“I would’ve brought a jacket if I knew we’d be taking a stroll.”
The breath of his chortle fans against your ear.
“You’ll warm up soon, sunlight. Trust me.”
Through several short-lived twists and turns, you are soon halted in your tracks. Any attempts at piecing together where on the property you may be fails you, as you have no recollection of stepping this far from the cabin.
“Any wild guesses?” Leon’s voice nearly touches your brain with how close he is to you.
The specks of golden light peaking through his fingers hints to what may be the answer.
“Uh… A campfire?”
He laughs again. “We already have one out front.”
“Yeah, but the s'mores the merrier, right?”
He responds to your god-awful pun with more laughter and another kiss to your head, before finally pulling his hands away from your face.
From there, you absorb the sight of a newly built hot-tub. It bubbles with scorching water and you can almost feel your muscles ache with want. Beside the tub is a fireplace, alive and flickering with fire. There are towels folded upon the surface, where they absorb the heat to embrace you soothingly after a nice soak.
Surrounding the hot-tub is a tall, solid black fence. Perfect for complete and total privacy. Not that anyone could step within a mile radius of the home without Leon knowing, but you digress.
Clean, skimmed wooden planks trail from your feet to the hot-tub. Searching further, you see an array of fairy lights strung upon the trees above. Their lights twinkle and illuminate the new addition to the property.
So engrossed in dissecting the new sight, you forgot about your puppy’s incessant need for your attention. You almost forgot he was even there to begin with until you feel his arms ensnare around your shoulders, tugging you closer to him.
Another kiss to your cheek and you finally fill the silence with your voice.
“You built all of this?”
He answers with an ‘mm-hmm’ and sways you both from side to side. You do not question his abilities, more-so the time frame. He’s constantly latched to you like that damned Las Plagas, where in his schedule did he find time to do all of this?
“Goddamn, how good are those woodworking books?”
You’re almost convinced to take up comedy with the way he laughs at your dry attempts at humor.
“You should know. You seemed pretty focused on it back home.”
Home. It’s a comforting phrase, but even in your subconscious mind, you don’t interlock that word with the cabin. You aren’t sure why.
“Nah, I’ll stick to the omelets. I’d probably chop my fingers off if I tried what you do.”
Leon shudders. The playful energy is drained the very moment those words leave your mouth. You should’ve known how sensitive he is to such ideas, after all. You almost turn to apologize, but he responds before you can even clutch the chance.
“Good.” He swallows dryly. You swear you heard a sniffle somewhere in there. “Don’t need any of those curious fingers around my table saw. Rather you just keep them on me.”
You answer the flirtation with a giggle and a “shut up!”, before shoving him off of you. From there, Leon begins to undress himself. You watch his efforts with a furrowed brow, before questioning him.
“O-Oh, now? We’re gonna use it right now?”
That grin on his face, always permanent, grows into a smile. “I built it for you. Didn’t bring you all the way out here just to stare at it.”
“Touché.” You answer.
Since you do now own a swimsuit, as you have minimal clothing for yourself back in your dresser (due to the fact your entire wardrobe still remains at Jill and Carlos’ estate), you begin to undress yourself, as well. It hadn’t crossed your mind that this was the first time Leon has seen so much of your skin, as you are more preoccupied in imagining how relaxing it will be to finally sink into the warm water.
Leon, in question, nearly gets caught in his pant legs and topples over from the sight of you. He wants to be witty, for his brain to form another charming one-liner that would snag your heart. But alas, seeing every blemish, every scar, every stretch of skin on your body has rendered him speechless. Those pesky undergarments of yours may be in the way, but even just a glimpse of your ankle is enough to get him drooling.
While Leon stands there with his head in the clouds, you rush over and finally step into the searing, muscle-melting embrace of the hot-tub. When you look to see why a certain blonde has yet to join you, you find him just standing there. Eyes the size of dinner plates.
You do not refrain from commenting on this. “When you said you didn’t bring me all the way out here just to stare, I thought you were talking about the both of us.”
A few blinks and Leon is finally brought back down to reality. There’s a subtle blush dusted on his cheeks, but yet again, he does not take his eyes off of you. With a light chortle, he finally climbs into the tub and adjusts himself beside you.
You take notice of the old pair of swim trunks he had worn beneath his clothes, which surely had been collecting dust in the bottom of his dresser. The heavy muscle gain over the years makes it rather tight around his thighs. You quickly avert your eyes away from the sight, but Leon is not as stingy when it comes to his staring. Especially when it is you before his gaze.
Enjoying the steaming temperatures, you then proceed to ramble about frivolous matters. With how peaceful your days have been (as well as how much time you spend with Leon), there is not much glamor or drama to enlighten him of. Still, you always manage to find some topic to blabber on about.
For tonight's subject: eggs!
You are rarely given the privilege of pursuing your hobbies and exploring beyond that point rarely ever happens. Anything perceived dangerous in the eyes of Leon is immediately off the table. Cooking, as baby-proofed as it is, has become a newfound interest for you. Specifically the art of cooking eggs, as your morning omelets still weigh in your stomachs.
“-And that’s why you should always use butter instead of oil when cooking eggs. I’ve learned it makes the eggs a lot more creamy, while oil just makes it, kind of, goopy, in my opinion. Bonus points if the butter you use is unsalt-”
So engaged in explaining the art of cooking eggs, you hardly comprehend Leon and his current state. Your tangent is soon brought to a sharp halt when you cast a glance at Leon.
You find him staring, once again. Only this time, not a single inch of your chest is free from his scrutinization. You peer down to look at yourself, assuming something of sort was wrong with it. When you find nothing but your normal body, you finally conclude his actions to not be at fault of you, but simply Leon thinking with what’s in his pants.
Looking back at him, knowing smirk on your face, you point your fingers up. “My eyes are up here, y’know.”
Leon abides by your comment and returns his gaze to you. Then, in his best attempt, he tries to flirt.
"If being gorgeous was a crime, you-you'd be guilty as... as... shit, I... I'm sorry."
You’re taken aback by his odd reaction. You have never seen Leon Kennedy nervous, no less stutter before. You’re positive you’re the only person on Earth to witness such.
“Right… So, as I was saying, it’s also best to use unsalted butter while cooking eggs. Not only does it help cook better, but gives you the opportunity to add in your own seasonings. Especially with how picky you know I am when it comes to-”
There he is, doing it again!
Staring at your chest as though it were a delicious buffet and he had not eaten in days.
Just how much is he even listening to you, anyway? If you asked him, do you think he’d be able to reiterate even just a word of what you said? What if you used this to your advantage?
With this newfound idea sparked in your mind, you begin to tell a ridiculous, fabricated story of the morning you had.
“Yeah, so after I cooked us eggs, I went outside and actually ran into the chicken who laid it.”
You search for any sign of confusion and find nothing. So, you continue.
“Then, she started to berate me! Squawking and screaming, “How could you!? You cooked my baby into a tasty breakfast!?””
Complemented by your eccentric motions and exploration of different octaves, you pantomime the comical story to Leon. Still, all you receive is a monotone, periodic “uh-huh” from your ever-so-immersed lover.
“And then she started running after me, pecking at my ankles no matter how fast I ran! She actually chased me all the way up that mountain back there. I even asked a squirrel to help me, but he just acted like he didn’t even see me, that bastard! When we finally reached the top, I just…“
Further insight on your vibrant morning borders on your tongue, but when you cast your gaze further down, you find an unmistakable sight through the fizzing bubbles: Leon using his hands to shield his… problem away from your attention.
From here, you finally cut your tale short. You giggle to yourself before forcibly snagging his attention away from your chest. You grasp his chin and pull his gaze to meet yours.
“I thought I told you my eyes were up here…”
A foggy film hazes over his eyes. Mouth slightly agape, he nods lazily in agreement. Does he like it when you’re in control? When you’re rough like this?
As you ponder over it, you realize you have never really taken control before. And knowing you’re gonna be stuck in this cabin for God-knows how much longer, you might as well have some fun with it, right? Besides, you’ve caught a glimpse or two of what’s hidden in those pants. Maybe some sweat is what you truly need to ease into this new lifestyle.
Even when holding his chin hostage, his eyes do not stop themselves from searching for what they want. They shift down to your lips and lock onto the sight. Of course, you know fully of what he is asking for. Though, it wouldn’t be fun if you couldn’t drizzle in a little pain with pleasure.
So, you play against him in his most favorite game: freeze and stare. You do so and watch as he squirms like a worm through thick soil.
As you watch Leon crumble from something so mere as intensive eye-contact, a knowing smile quirks at your lips. The sight of your pearly whites, especially when exposed in his favor, is what pushes Leon to snap. His mouth waters at the prospect prodding at his mind, as though he were thirteen years old again, reading the raunchy romance books he snagged from one of his orphan caregivers.
Leon leans in to kiss you, but you nod away from his advances. The further you push away from him, however, the more Leon chases after you. Soon, there is no room for you to escape. And his mouth practically bruises your own from the force of his scorching kiss.
You try to speak his name to capture his attention back, but there is no room for conversation. Not when your senses are overwhelmed with the clashing of lips, saliva, and gut-wrenching devotion.
You sink your teeth into his bottom lip in a final attempt at halting his zeal. This action brings you success, yes, but only chucks buckets of fuel into the rampant fire burning inside Leon. He’s said it before, after all: pain at your hand would bring him bliss like no other.
And that it does.
His jaw drops with a sharp gasp. From there, you listen as Leon whimpers into your mouth. He chases after the warmth of your lips again, but you do not let him indulge by establishing firm restrictions. This resistance only causes more trouble, as Leon grows impatient with each passing second without you close.
“Please… Need more…” His voice raises in an octave you don’t recognize; a tone that encapsulates the hunger he is overwhelmed with.
“Take them off.” Your demand is curt and sharp. It is a new disposition you do not recognize, but something Leon is absolutely enthralled by.
Always your obedient puppy-dog, not another second is wasted before Leon is practically ripping his swimming trunks from his waist. The array of gurgling bubbles shields what lies beneath the water surface, but you compensate by allowing your eager fingers to explore for themselves.
Pressing a sharp nail into the muscle of his thigh, you slowly tread your feather-touch upwards. Leon’s chest rises up and down with rapid breaths, as though he were the first to cross the finish line after a miles-long marathon. Just waiting, waiting for you to touch him in the one place he needs it most.
You indulge him once more with your much-awaited kiss. While doing so, you are able to easily remove yourself of your undergarments, as you were not wearing much to begin with.
Leon tries to slither his tongue into your mouth, but always the sadist you are, you decline this effort. You are not focused on his pleasure for now. You’re more interested in learning what will be buried inside you soon. Testing the waters, per se.
When your thumb skims against the skin of his heavy balls, Leon nearly keels over. You’re then ensnared in the tight embrace of his Herculean biceps. Despite the debauchery sewn into his bones, puppeteering every move of his, he still remains tender with his actions. The notion to treat you with the utmost softness is unbreakable, even when he is suffering at the hands of devastating carnality.
Meanwhile, you drag your finger down his hardened length and estimate every inch he possesses. You ignore every shiver that cascades down his body and conclude the measurement lies somewhere near 7.5 inches. Leon lies on the thinner side, but compensates with just how intimidating the straight, narrow length is, leaving no room for any curves or arches. In contrast to this, his head is fat and irritated, desperate for your attention.
While you remain engrossed in your thorough studies, Leon begins to paw at you with his greedy hands.
“Please. Master, please…”
Master? You’ve never heard that one before…
You share a hearty chuckle and beneath the touch of your fingers, you feel his dick jerk in response. A thing for humiliation? You’ll jot that down for later.
With a swift roll of your eyes, you shuffle your legs over to straddle him. His hands clutch on to your shoulders in a fervent attempt at keeping you close, to a degree that almost brings you minor pain. Much like a normal dog, Leon often forgets the weight of his strength and how large he is. Especially when he is blinded by his own ravenous lechery.
“Do you want me to fuck you?”
Leon shudders and weakly nods. It’s almost comical how a few heated touches can cause all that famous wit to ooze out his body. However, it is not the response you wanted.
You tightly grasp hold of his face like a parent scolding their child. He gasps from the harsh contact, but the way his eyes sparkle tells you he is a fan of the rough treatment.
“Speak.”
With a jagged groan, a collage of messy words spill from his mouth.
“Yes! God, yes, there is nothing I want more. Master, please give it to me!”
Satisfied with his answer, you use your free hand to take hold of his length. Goosebumps adorn his shivering body in response. With one last deep breath of preparation, you then guide his bulbous head past the tight barrier of your wet entrance.
Your jaw drops from the sheer stretch. Despite how much you could have prepared yourself for penetration, it still finds fresh ways in taking your breath away.
Leon is not in any better of a state, either. Arguably, much worse.
Gasps pervade from his mouth as he desperately tries to verbalize just how soul-crushing you feel. He might as well have ascended onto cloud nine where his lonely skin can be embraced in the fluffy, sunlit expanse.
The further you sink yourself down, the more his brain becomes smeared with melted concupiscence and the feeling of absolute, irrevocable love. Leon has to restrain himself from snagging back your control and just fucking into you until the sun rises. Poor thing doesn’t know how much more he can take before he snaps.
When you finally do bottom out, you have to impede a wince. He may be able to reach places your measly fingers could only dream of finding, but fuck, will he take some getting used to.
A choked gasp of your new title bridges on the edge of Leon’s lips, but is quickly halted by him. Even when he is in the position he has dreamed of obtaining for years, those nagging thoughts still manage to creep in.
Leon fears the aspect of losing control and the consequences it may garner. What if someone is out there? What if they’re watching, just waiting for him to give in to the pleasure? All so they can swoop in and take you from him? What will he do if he loses you again? Would he even survive-?
A gentle bounce of your hips and all worry is flung into outer space. Leon lurches forward, burying his head into your neck and digging his blunt nails into your shoulders.
While you remain focused on adjusting to the new rhythm, Leon is reciting a mantra of “don’t cum, don’t cum, don’t cum” through his hazy head.
“There you go… Good boy-“
Well, that didn’t last long.
That’s all it takes for Leon to plunge over the edge.
“M-Master! Fuck, uhn-!”
He bleats out an obnoxiously loud cry, as though he were the lead star in a world-famous porno.
Sweltering heat pervades through his stomach in an inordinate fervor. Thick, heavy ropes paint your walls white and fill you to the very brim. Hands gripping every chunk of flesh they can reach, Leon revels in the weight of the pleasure.
Never has he been able to cum so quickly. All efforts with the toys in his bedside drawer or the blurry faces he’d bring to bed were rarely brought to fruition. If he were ever brought to that peak, it was always a pitiful release.
One thing remained constant, though: it was always you on his mind.
Tonight, however, euphoria could not have come quicker when his senses are overwhelmed in all of you and your perfect self.
With such meek effort, you’ve now reduced Leon to a gooey puddle of ecstatic, dazed shivers. You take his newfound silence as embarrassment for lasting several seconds inside you. The truth is, you have stunned him into an enraptured state of silence. Still, you’ve accepted the fun has ended and begin reassuring him of any drifting doubts.
“You’re okay, puppy… Did so well for me…” You whisper, leaving a trail of gentle kisses down his jaw.
Leon’s rapid breathing has now eased, with the occasional whimper managing to escape. Tears build in his baby-blues. His grip on you is weak, but still maintains that vehement desperation you’re so familiar with. Inert is now his disposition, all with just a few pumps inside you.
Six years have been spent in isolated misery with the memory of you poisoning his mind. To finally feel the caress of your love, Leon can’t restrain the tears that begin to fall.
Your reassurances remain soft and your kisses drag further down his skin. His chest, riddled with scars from his past, does not remain untouched by your care. This includes the jagged cut above his collarbone that he received during his search for you in Valdelobos. It had healed since, but it is perceptible in its hues of purple and red. You kiss upon the wound, complemented by the subtle drag of your teeth.
You’re caught off guard when you feel Leon’s hardened length spasm within you in response. You devote your attention to that sweet spot and drag the warm sponge of your tongue on the scar, relishing in the moan it evokes from his throat.
Sucking into the marked skin, Leon starts again with his pathetic stammering.
“Pl-Please…” he cries out. “You’re killing me…”
You press a tender kiss to the fresh hickey as a silent apology. Slowly, you then begin to grind your hips to gently ease him into round two. Your efforts for a forgiving transition fail you, however, as those needy hands dig into your flesh as some desperate query for mercy.
Leon shields any absconding sounds of his by hyperventilating through clenched teeth. Once again, however, that scrap of self-control is torn from his grasp with another bounce of your body.
As your motions continue, Leon takes hold of the hand you rested on his shoulder. He buries your fingers in the heaps of short hair on the back of his head. His eyes are locked on yours through it all. Where else would they be?
“Pull. Please, pull on-”
You yank on his hair with all your might and watch in reverie as his jaw goes slack. A few moans part from his gaping mouth before he can collect the correct words to speak.
Taking your other hand, Leon guides it to his neck and applies the pressure he’s been dreaming of for years.
“Sq-Squ-”
You abide once more and compress your fingers down on the most sensitive areas of his throat. And you almost crack a joke about how he’d do well in a Hentai with how perverse his reaction is.
His tongue lolls out of his open mouth and rests against his chin. His eyes roll so far into the back of his head, you wonder if they’ll be stuck there forever. All of this over some slow grinding? You could assume him to be a virgin over such dramatics.
For a moment, you decide to soften your movements. With his track record, you doubt he’ll last much longer with such efficient motions. Instead, you take advantage of that loose tongue hanging lazily from his mouth.
You begin to suck on the lax muscle. The response it garners from Leon is immediate. A torrid moan pervades muffled, but the volume is still enough to shudder through the air.
Every twist and turn of his hot mouth is sloppy, as he is too twitterpated to use his lips accordingly. His hands, weak and idle, clasp your jaw and hold you in place. Leon has kissed many others before, yes, but none like this.
Then finally, finally, you begin to ride him. The attention reserved to his mouth is robbed from you, as Leon’s head droops backward and hangs over the rim of the hot tub. His body goes limp, slack arms falling from your body and to his sides. That mouth, overwhelmed with pooling saliva, lets out a raucous series of “ah! ah! ah!” with every thrust you impel into yourself.
He becomes blinded by his appetency. As he stated, being victim to the fusion of heaven and hell at your hand brings him bliss like no other. And through the clenched curses and pitiful whimpers, the universe finally grants him the ability to speak.
Soon, all fantasies he’s had surrounding this moment begin to spill out of his brain. Every meager attempt at masturbation, every tedious one-night stand, every sexual desire never brought to fruition — one crack in the dam leads to every thought of you gushing out with no hope of control.
“You have no idea...” His voice is a mere squeak; you barely discern what was even stated. “No-No clue… ‘Needed this ever since I saw you at that f-fucking gas station!”
Fire burns scorching in your gut.
“Spent six whole fucking years chasing after this. Never-Never thought I’d find it… Never thought I’d find you.”
Every thrust baffles you, as no one, not even yourself, has been able to reach so deep. Complemented by the intensity and verity of his words, you’re surprised it all hadn’t made you cum prematurely, as well.
A particular rough pump hits a good spot inside you, a spot you had not known existed. A moan gasps from your throat, of which you try to muffle to no avail. Leon takes notice and immediately fills the silence with more pleads.
“No, d-don’t hide. Wanna hear you, master. Ne-Need it…”
Paired with those pretty eyes, shimmering as though he were a dog presented with a juicy bone, that was all you needed to let go. You angle your hips to abuse that spot relentlessly, relishing in the immediate gratification it ignites within you.
Soon, you’re no better than him in regards to sound release. The last time you heard yourself like this was when Carlos was buried inside you, but Leon does not need to know about those past excursions.
Leon, in question, was none the wiser. Overwhelmed with ecstasy, he continues with his blabbering about every wet dream you played the lead role in.
“Wanna- Wan’ you to put a collar on me. ‘Wear the ears an’ a leash. Have you pl-plug a tail inside me.”
The idea of adorning the Leon Kennedy in all those garbs is almost enough to make you laugh. A man of such strength and power would really let you do that to him?
“Wan’ master to cum in a bowl. ’Make me eat it.”
He lifts his head to rest his forehead against yours. His eyes gaze into yours with an intensity that touches your bones.
“Survive on it…”
His statement almost unnerves you. The entire time you thought he was dead, that is what he occupied himself with? Thoughts like this?
With your free hand, you return the grasp you once had on his hair and you yank on the strands in an attempt to get him to shut his mouth. His eyes roll into the back of his head and he cries obscenely, but does not dare separate the distance between you both.
Through gasps for air and prevailing moans, the blabbering continues.
“Luh-Lock me in a cage. Tie a vibe’ to my dick and just sit there, just f-fucking watch me fall apart.”
Yeah, he definitely took your ‘puppy-dog’ nickname too literally.
You’re sure if you told him to bark, he wouldn’t think twice. You don’t even know if you have the heart to fulfill all these fantasies, no matter how pretty he’d plead for you.
The lack of vocal indication of your end has taken a perceptible toll on Leon, as it seems. He eagerly awaits for your reply, to see your face stretch into a sneer, for you to tell him he is a disgusting mutt who doesn’t deserve another second in your presence. The mere thought could make him cum again right there.
“Master, please! Wan’ hear your voice.”
You hadn’t even noticed your sudden inclination to silence. After all, you have been rendered speechless from his previous statements. And with a face like that, you don’t have it in you to deny Leon of what he asks for.
“Yeah? Feelin’ good?”
Oh, he could just melt beneath that voice.
Leon is positive he almost does with the way he can’t bring himself to answer you with words, only returning your question with another onslaught of whines and snivels.
Now that he has you where he has only dreamt of holding you, it’s too much for him to handle. Even when faced with the most formidable, revolting creatures on Earth, the utter severity of it all couldn’t even begin to compare with what you offer him.
“F-F-Fuck! Master, gonna-gonna make me-!”
You halt, reducing your violent thrusts to gentle pumps. And the sob it earns you is nothing short of beautiful.
For a moment, you find yourself worried over the visceral reaction it pulled from him. If it weren’t for the lust fogging his brain, he’d adorn you in wreaths of reassurance and adoration. Leon has been victim to so much pain over the course of his life, but none of which compare to this. It hurts, but fuck, does it hurt good.
“… Need… Need you…”
And God, will he do just about anything to be a victim to it for the rest of his life.
“Make… Make me cum first, then maybe I’ll consider letting you finish inside me.”
His eyes, peering into yours, darken in response. Just how long has he been waiting for you to throw a demand like that his way?
Years, you conclude, based on how he obliges with whiplash-inducing swiftness. Leon takes the labor off your shoulders and pounds against that spot that turns your body to melted goop. The noises you make, like sheer heaven pouring into Leon’s ears, intensify when you bring much-needed stimulation to your sex.
“Wan’ make you feel good. ‘S all I ever wanted.” He whines through sniffles.
His nails cling to the meat of your hips, whisking you closer to his chest. You’re positive by morning, you’ll look as though Wolverine chose you as his prey.
The tears bridging in his eyes now seep down his cheeks, face twisting as sobs begin to heave from his body. Leon hasn’t cried since the moment he saw you on the loading docks. What is there to cry about anymore? With you there, the sun in an empty void, how could he ever be brought to tears again?
Now, however, he cannot refrain himself from sobbing his eyes out. Every wail escapes with a hiccup as he desperately restrains himself from disobeying your word and finishing inside you. Six years spent chasing after an orgasm had not prepared Leon for what would happen when he’d be forced to prevent that peak.
“I’ll get you there. Mmph- ‘Puppy will get you there.”
That tether keeping you stable weakens with every thrust plunged inside you. Your brain is sheer mush, your body is enfeebled, and the knot in your gut stretches until it becomes too much for you to hold.
A sharp curse gasps from your throat as you let yourself go and into the arms of sheer rapture. You clutch onto his shoulders as your orgasm courses through your body. And to be the one responsible for such intensive, euphoric feelings within you turns Leon into a man lost to the whorls of insanity.
“Fuck-! Thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you!” He trails on like a broken CD.
“Y-Yeah? Feels good fucking into me like a bitch in heat, huh?”
You don’t even know who the person saying these words is, as it all tumbles from your mouth like second nature.
Leon does, however. And God, he couldn’t be more in love with them.
“Come on, you’ve earned your reward. Breed me, puppy.”
Just like that, all Leon needed was another sugar-coated command and he is cumming his brains out.
“Fuck, I’m-!”
Leon fills you up once again, practically squirting into you like a bitch. The remnants left with no room excrete from your heat and flow with the bubbling water.
Drool pools underneath his tongue, snapping in strings as his mouth opens to cry out for you. All sorts of curses and proclamations of love tumble from his weak jaw. His brows pinch upwards as his gaze remains locked on yours, relishing in the sight he’s fought tooth and nail to retrieve.
The blurry memories of those pitiful one-night stands bid their last goodbye, firmly replaced by the ground-breaking, earth-shattering pleasure only you are capable of conjuring.
And once again, that staring problem of his has not halted, even when he has been reduced to a whiny, woozy mess.
Leon lays there, limp as a wet noodle, and just marvels at the sight of you before him. Every inch of your body is scrutinized through his eyes, once again.
All the fantasies of you on top of him, none of it compared to the genuine sight. Strikingly beautiful as you always are. It is better than seeing daylight for the first time, better than seeing a rainbow of hope after a tragic storm, better than watching all your desires and dreams unravel before your very eyes. It is everything.
All you can do is remain seated on his lap and admire the work, or rather, destruction, you have caused.
“Leon?”
Nothing.
“Leon…?”
No response.
“Hey, pup.”
You pat your hand on his cheek, finally capturing his attention.
Dazed, he answers with a lazy “huh?” while still refusing to cease his staring.
“I’d tell you to take a picture if I didn’t mind you staring at me so much.”
He huffs out a dazed chuckle, gaze still buried into every inch of you it can reach. With no verbal reply, you laugh to yourself when you realize you’ve managed to fuck the wit and humor out of Leon Kennedy, the king of all cheesy dad-jokes.
“Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?”
He nods weakly in response.
You now dread the thought of dragging the dead weight of this burly secret agent all the way back to the cabin.
Night has now consumed the sky, shedding the light of the moon and its glittering stars across the land. After a swift shower with an affectionate, semi-conscious Leon, the two of you return outdoors.
The campfire outside crackles with heat in front of the hammock strapped beneath two trees, where you and Leon currently lay.
His head is buried into your neck, desperate for the comfort only your touch can provide. With the occasional sloppy kiss to your jaw and drowsy, love-struck praise, you realize you have rendered one of the most powerful men on the planet to a mushy mess of devotion.
Holding the light of his life close, affixed by the sounds of chirping crickets and swaying waves, he is soon rocked to sleep like a baby in a crib.
Despite the soothing environment, however, you cannot find it within yourself to join Leon in his state of slumber. Instead, your brain is plagued by concern.
Foolishly, you assumed drowning Leon in affections would grant you a moment of solitude. Just satiate his hunger and you’ll catch a break, right?
Wrong!
Your efforts have only intensified the avidity coursing through his bloodstream. Where his muddled mind can only conjure words of your beauty, your psyche, your perfection — just you, you, you, and only you.
But, what about you?
What do you crave? What do you want most?
As the idea simmers in your brain, you conclude what you want most is to start anew. Move to a different city, reconnect with old friends, adopt a furry friend, maybe even return to school or pursue a new career field.
It does not matter what choices you make down the line, as long as you have a choice to begin with.
And maybe when the time is right, you can pursue romance again. You cannot explain why, but your mind then drifts to Tyrell and you start to wonder if he-
“Oh! God, you startled me…”
You dip your chin and find Leon in a new state of complete consciousness. Staring at you. Intently.
Almost as though he could read your mind, he had roused from his sleep the very second your thoughts traveled in the opposite direction of him. Another smile stretches on his sleepy face, nonetheless. His finger draws up to your face and he boops you on the nose.
With a content hum of laughter, Leon then snuggles closer to you and proceeds to drown you in another suffocating array of kisses and nuzzles.
“I missed you…” He exhales.
With a glance of confusion, you question his confession.
“What? I’ve been here the whole time?”
Your bewilderment is not alleviated, as Leon only doubles down on his confession.
“I really, really missed you…”
Just when you think he cannot get any closer, he forces himself further like a python ensnaring around its prey. Almost as though he were trying to forge the two of you into one person.
You hereby make a promise to yourself that if you are ever granted the chance of a new beginning, you will never adopt a dog.
When you wake the following morning beneath the sheets of the bedroom, you are met with the same routine. Hazy sunlight, singing birds, lively fireplace — all the essentials to a morning spent in the cabin.
This time, however, you feel someone affectionately dragging the joint of their fingers down your face.
This strikes odd, as you always wake before Leon. He was never a deep sleeper before bringing you into his bed, always flinching awake to gusts of wind or creaks in the floorboard. With his thick arms around your waist, trying to wake him was now a fool’s errand. That is, until you leave his side. You are convinced he has some form of sixth sense devoted to ensuring you are close by. There is no other coherent explanation for this superpower of his.
As he continues to caress the jut of your jaw, you keep your confusions at bay and your eyes locked tight. You hope with careful effort, you’ll succeed in pretending to be asleep.
“Told you I’d come back to you.”
That is not Leon.
Your eyes launch open to identify the voice, only to find no other than Ada Wong sitting beside you.
She is dressed in her famous red garbs and dark leather. Acrylic nails grazing over your flesh, she pets you as though you were a sleeping kitten curled up in her lap.
“Ada!” You exclaim, voice woven with shock and relief.
You escape the expanse of Leon’s strong grasp, albeit with struggle, and bring her into a hug, of which she joyously accepts.
The act of affection given to her was platonic. A greeting of an old friend, nothing more. The embrace you initiated, however, quickly becomes a bit too intimate for your liking. With glossy lips a little too close to your neck and hands treading further and further down your back, you pull away from her before she can conjure up any ulterior ideas.
Though, knowing Ada and her love of romance, those very ideas have most likely forged a home in her mind.
“This is the ‘humble abode’ Leon spoke so proudly of?” She questions, studying the room with a perceptible sneer. “He has you living like a dog.”
“It-It’s not so bad! I actually find it quite cozy here.” You defend the unconscious man beside you. “It’s nothing like your million-dollar mansion, though, I assume?”
Ada breathes out a light chortle. How badly she missed you and that playful nature, as groggy as it may be in the wake of dawn.
“Well, would you like to find out?”
She has to restrain herself from pinching your cheeks when you fail to hide your flabbergasted expression.
“L-Leave? You want me to leave with you?”
A surge of fear envelops your body when you contemplate the prospect. Awakening to an empty bed would surely send Leon into a state of crazed hysterics. You’d be overtaken with guilt knowing he’s ripping the planet apart trying to find you.
“Yes. Pack your bags. My chauffeur is waiting for us.”
Chauffeur!? Is she serious?
“Oh, I barely have any clothes to pack. We can just catch up here, right?”
Your lazy excuse is an attempt at convincing Ada to stay within the safety of the cabin, all to placate Leon. What you have forgotten in these few months is just how headstrong she is. Also, how easy it is for her to twist your works to her liking.
“That is alright, we can travel naked. I certainly don’t mind.”
“That won’t be necessary.” Leon interjects her salacious ideas, granting you no time to react to her remark. “I know it’s different from what you’re used to, but we don’t need diamonds to be happy.”
Turning to look at him, you’re taken aback by how overcome with annoyance he is. It is the first time you have seen him so irritated in months, in fact. Not since the two had their cat-fight back on the loading docks.
When he shifts his gaze to you, however, that aggravation washes away and is replaced by content bliss. It seems to be his permanent expression whenever his vision is blessed with the sight of you.
“All we need is each other.”
Leon’s arms find their way around your waist, once again, sprinkling ardent kisses upon your shoulder. You can only imagine the intensity in his eyes when he casts another glare her way.
“Oh. How sweet.” Aversion seeps from Ada’s words as though she were spitting out a chunk of rotten fruit.
It is only now that you begin to connect the dots. They are short and curt with each other, yes, but their interactions are devoid of the violence from before. You can’t help but wonder to yourself if they had planned this?
You are not granted much time to ponder on such trivial matters. Not when Ada is dragging you out of the cabin, Leon hot on your tail.
She assures you there is now no need for packing a bag of any sort, as you will own a full closet and whatever luxuries you desire at her place of residence. The obnoxious flaunting does not go unnoticed by Leon, either. You wouldn’t be surprised if he had caught sight of his brain with how hard he rolled his eyes.
With that being said, Leon is not entirely innocent in his efforts to establish dominance over his enemy, either.
You barely make it a few steps off the front porch before Leon yanks you into a bruising kiss.
With both hands grasping your face, he ignores your muffled whimpers of rebuff and deepens the kiss to an impossible degree. Under the heat of such intense vehemency, however, that facade he crafted to ingrain insecurity into Ada crumbles at his feet. Even the strongest of creatures would melt beneath the veil of your affection, that is an undeniable fact.
You will not be gone for long, but Leon cannot fathom a mere second without you close by. How is he meant to function when you’re under the care of this serpent?
The woman in question is swift in separating you from the lovesick maniac assaulting your mouth. Ensuring your safety and comfort is now a muscle reaction in her, she has come to learn.
Once he finally parts from you, only then does he realize tears have pooled in his eyes, threatening to spill down his face.
“I love you.” Leon confesses.
You do not respond. You do not know what kind of feelings you possess for him, but uttering those words back to him would feel foreign. Now that you think about it, you cannot recall the last time you were positive you genuinely loved someone…
“I love you so much, sunlight.”
Ada has now resorted to dragging him away from you, fully expecting him to tackle you like a dog who has not seen their owner in months. Knowing him, an action of such would not be out of character.
“I’ll see you soon, Leon.”
With that, you begin treading towards the location of Ada’s chauffeur. She begins to follow you in your steps, but is halted when a rough hand clutches her forearm. Harshly, she is pulled away from you by Leon.
Out of your earshot, he whispers into her ear through clenched teeth. Voice now austere and venomous.
“One mark on them and there is not a single place on Earth you’ll be able to hide from me.”
With an amused eye-roll and wicked grin, Ada responds to him.
“Careful, Leon. You know I don’t fight fair. Play your cards wrong and I’ll have them begging to stay with me.”
Leon is not given the chance to fulfill his desires of beating her skull into the mud and leaving behind a gore-ridden disarray. Not when she swiftly escapes his violent grasp and follows behind you.
You remain oblivious to the blood-soaked tension between your two lovers as you send a final wave to a heart-shattered Leon. You then reach the doors of the vehicle Ada was chauffeured in and marvel at the expensive sight.
The steel walls of the car are dark and polished, as though the chauffeur had driven here directly from the dealership. Said chauffeur circles around the car to where you stand. He does not spare you a glance as he opens the door for you, reserving his vision for the costly intricacies of his oxford shoes and fitted suit.
You cast a glance of uncertainty to Ada, who returns your confusion with an affirmative gesture. A grin creeps onto her face in response. She likes you relying on her for clarity. Just her and no one else.
Wiping off any excess mud on your shoes in the dewy grass, you carefully (moreso clumsily) enter the vehicle. You perceive the interior of the car to be just as lavish as the outside.
The seats are imbedded with exorbitant, brown leather and encompass the entire backseat area. Curtains guard the tinted windows, as though you were a celebrity being escorted to some prestigious event.
In your intended seat is a velvet-coated bin filled to the brim with all sorts of goods. Expensive lotions all in your favorite scents, several new LEGO sets, a vintage polaroid camera, as well as… A hankerchief? Why would you need one of those back here?
Shifting your gaze further, the car head unit displays a GPS, detailing the fastest route to Leon’s cabin. You’d think this car was taking you to the moon with how futuristic the interior is.
The partition closes before you can examine the technology further, leaving the backseat in complete isolation. The engine is quiet as it rumbles to life.
Ada then joins you in the backseat, closing the door firmly.
“Seatbelt.”
It takes you a moment to discern what she said, that being an unbending demand. When you finally register her words, you oblige and rush to fasten your seatbelt.
“Wow! I’ve never been in a car so- mmph!”
Ada pulls you into a kiss before you can finish your sentence.
It is a soft affection, but even a fool couldn’t miss the aching relief seeping from her muscles. God, did she miss you.
It is a contrast to kisses from Leon, as well. Her lips are smooth and plump, instead of that chapped, neediness he always overwhelms you with. In addition to this, every advance and nudge of Ada’s mouth is luxurious in effort. Hell, even her lip gloss tastes expensive.
The kiss is short-lived, much to her dismay, as you soon pull away from the second onslaught of greedy ferocity for the day.
“You must have a lot of questions for me.” Ada leans back into her seat and crosses one leg over the other. “Ask away.”
Still frazzled from the sudden affection you were pulled into, it takes a few seconds for you to compute a proper response.
“I… I’m not even sure where to start. I’m just glad you’re okay.”
Ada raises a brow, relishing you caring for her well-being. Lord knows how obsessed she is with yours, after all.
“I guess I’ll start by asking… Um, where have you been?”
Maybe it was the exhausting ride here, maybe it’s the breakfast she forgot that morning, shit, maybe it’s just the weather, but Ada cannot find words to speak when you’re looking at her like that. She concludes it is at fault of the long, torturous time spent without you, immediately met with whiplash upon indulging in your kiss.
“Working. Cleaning up the mess in Valdelobos.”
How she has cleaned the said “mess” remains unbeknownst to you. No matter what the context is, you can always rely on Ada to be vague with her words.
“What about…” You hesitate. “What about Jill and Carlos? Have you seen them?”
Even though your days have been overwhelmed by Leon and his clingy antics, the memory of that cursed picnic still lurks in the back of your head. You still do not know where they are or if they are even alive.
“Taken care of. Nothing you need to worry your pretty head about.”
“Okay… That’s good to hear.” You sigh with relief. “And what of today? Where are we heading to?”
“My penthouse. Top floor. Perfect view of the entire city.”
Penthouse!? You’ve seen your fair share of apartments, as you lived in a roach-ridden studio back in Raccoon City. But, you’ve never even breathed within a mile radius of a penthouse!
“Oh! A-A penthouse?”
You swear you can visibly see the hubris permeate her expression. The pride Ada feels upon your reactions to the fruits of her work is nothing short of euphoric.
“Correct.”
You cough out a nervous laugh. “I don’t- I’ve-I’ve never been in a penthouse before. I don’t think I’ll really… "Fit in”, y’know?”
“Nonsense. It’s exactly what you deserve. What you need.”
“Okay… And what about after that?”
She pauses, confused by your question.
“I don’t understand.”
“I mean, what will happen after I leave your penthouse?”
“You’ll visit Leon provisionally, before you return to me.”
“No! I-I mean, when do I get to go off on my own? Make a life for myself?”
Ada tenses. She does not like this topic; she’d rather go back to boasting about her riches and reveling in the way you fawn after them.
“I…” You begin, before cutting your tangent off short.
You are well aware of the hardships both she and Leon have endured for your well-being. The last thing you want is to be seen as ungrateful.
To alleviate these worries, you place your hand atop of hers in assurance. In the process, you fail to notice the spike her heart endures from the sudden affection.
“I’m grateful for everything you and Leon have done for me. Really, I am. But… But, I think I’m ready to fly the nest now.”
And just how foolish can you be, Y/N?
Ada can’t let you go. How could she ever? She can’t, she can’t, she can’t, she can’t, she can’t, she can’t, she can’t-
“I can’t!”
The shout is abrupt and causes you to flinch away from her. In response, Ada quickly takes your hand back into hers. Her touch is soft, as it always has been, but the desperation is almost palpable.
“Not… Not yet, petal. It’s too dangerous.”
Your heart hangs heavy in your chest.
More hiding?
When will this chapter of your life finally conclude? When can you shift your worries from four love-obsessed soldiers to feeding the alleyway strays and finishing your taxes on time?
When will it all end?
Will it ever end?
This question looms in the head as hours, days, week, months tread past you.
Despite your wishes to start anew, you’ve been forced into an organized routine with Ada and Leon.
One week will be spent at Leon’s cabin, relaxing in the heart of mother nature while enjoying hot-tub nights and fried egg mornings. Once that week comes to an end, you’ll be flown out to Ada’s penthouse, where luxury and extravagance never cease.
Begrudgingly, Leon is given permission to join you on the private jet ride to Ada’s estate, soaking in the last few hours he’ll be granted with you. She cannot bring herself to blame him for this, as much as she wants to. She is also latched to your side for the agonizing drive out to Leon’s cabin, as well.
The two will then share a few sly glares and indulge you in some final, saddened acts of affections. Then, you are handed off to the other like divorced parents trading off kids in a grocery store parking lot.
In this time, you’ve become accustomed to the juxtaposition between waking up on flannel sheets, then silken sheets.
The windows of Ada’s opulent bedroom expand across the walls and welcome the light of the morning sun.
Fluffed pillows support your tired head. The mattress you’re sprawled out on is spacious, allowing you to stretch your limbs comfortably. An incredible contrast to your tiny twin back at the sanctuary. The lavish, bamboo comforters you’ve ensnared around yourself atone for all those lonely nights spent clinging to thin blankets.
You search through the mess of blankets to find Ada, but your efforts are brought to no avail. Much like her partner-nemesis (or whatever she’d personally name Leon), she is normally the sight you’re met with the moment you awaken.
Unbeknownst to you, though, Ada still fears she may wake to cold sheets; to be met with another firm reminder that this is all just another sugar-sprinkled dream and you are far away. To have you here, safe and warm, closer than ever before — it is the most picturesque definition of ‘too good to be true’ a dictionary could articulate.
Now, to awake in complete isolation, you had forgotten what it felt like altogether. Addled by this, you leave the heavenly embrace of the bed and set out on finding Ada.
Sauntering out of the bedroom, the marble floors feel like a fresh sheet of snow beneath your bare feet. All the more reason to crawl into those cozy, warm blankets and let the world drift away.
The walls and floors you tread by are painted a deep black. The only contrast to this darkness are the blood-red accents and the surrounding greenery. Plants, all varying in shape and size, adorn the hallways you amble through.
A few of Ada’s servants are awake bright and early to tend to these plants, squirt bottles and thermometers in their possession. You approach one of them and ask for Ada’s whereabouts, but they ignore you. As though they are stiff, tin-made robots, solely devoted to the task at hand and nothing else.
From there, you shake off the odd encounter and hasten forward, continuing your search for your missing partner.
For the umpteenth time, you walk through the hallway that has haunted your thoughts for these past few months. In this hallway are two doors, mirrored directly across from one another. Both are locked, despite your efforts to enter. You cannot help but wonder what you���d find inside…
As you pace down the staircase, you’re soon hit with the perfusing scent of a steaming meal. Like some starved carnivore, you follow the smell through the grand hallways, before you finally halt in the dining room.
You often joke to Ada how she’s decorated the room as though she were expecting to dine with the Addams family. Gothic and luxurious — those are the two words best used to describe the dining room.
The heavy chandelier dangling above flickers with lit candles, irradiating the jewels strung to the golden encasing. Black, velvet-encased chairs are aligned across the edges of the mahogany table. The chairs on the far ends contrast the others with their shimmering, golden trim. Two chairs meant to support the weight of royalty.
The table is now littered with a variety of breakfast foods. You find crepes, both sweet and savory. Also known as Ada’s favorite, which you noted long ago. Fresh, steaming breads, complemented by your choice of rich butter, fresh jam, or sweet honey. Fluffy Belgian waffles are stacked on a plate beside more bottles of maple syrup than Canada has ever seen. There is even an ostrich egg platter, surrounded with crispy meats and vegetables to plunge into the thick yolk.
You’ll have to ask Leon to add ostrich eggs to the grocery list so you can force him through another rant about eggs.
As you scrutinize all the contents on the table, a server then enters the premises. Just like the others, he does not make eye-contact with you. Almost as if he was afraid to do so, afraid of you.
He grasps the frame of the sumptuous chair and drags it out for you, beckoning you to sit down. You hesitate, questioning him with a pointed finger to your chest and a whispered “me?”, before your brain finally computes and ushers you to abide by his request.
When you sit, you are not permitted the chance to choose your serving of luxurious foods. Not when the servant begins intricately building your plate for you, skimming down a mental checklist of exact proteins, fats, grains, and everything incorporated into a healthy breakfast.
Without making eye-contact, once again, the servant sets the plate down before you. And like some ravenous animal, you do not wait for him to leave before you’re sinking your eager fingers into the dish. Everything is spectacular in its rich, delectable flavors. Surely a breakfast fit for royalty, of which you have not convinced yourself you are yet.
A pair of arms then wrap around your chest, guiding you back into a doting embrace. Glossy lips press an ardent kiss to your temple.
“I’m glad to see you finally awake, petal.”
With every day the fog settles, you have come to learn several new things.
Oh, how Ada Wong loves the touch of Y/N L/N.
It is evident throughout every day, where fragments of her obsession are sprinkled into every moment you spend together.
And you cannot differentiate whether the burning of your cheeks is from the sudden affections or because you were caught devouring your meal like some mess-obsessed toddler.
Ada strolls to stand beside you, dragging a pointed finger across your shoulders as she saunters. With a sticky face, you watch as she curls her fingers beneath your chin, shifting your gaze up to meet hers.
“Cute.” She utters, caressing the narrow line of your jawline.
She loves this sight of you under her like this. Like a wide-eyed bunny, scrutinizing every move of the big, bad wolf. Too fucking adorable. Her fingers then find your head, petting the surface as though you were her personal lap-dog. Pretty and pliant beneath her, exactly where she loves you most.
“I’ll be gone for most of the day, unfortunately. Work stuff.” Her hand grasps your chin, holding your vision to hers. “Think you can keep yourself occupied without me?”
You nod obediently, most certainly a sight for sore eyes.
She chortles. “Good...”
With one last prolonged, impassioned kiss to your forehead, Ada then departs and sets out for the day's tasks.
Despite your imperative stance in her life, you are still left in the dark about what exactly her “work” is. All attempts at questioning result in failure. What you are aware of, however, is how time-consuming it all is. Honestly, you’d think she was having an affair if she didn’t drown you in love and riches every chance she got.
One major (and ridiculous, in your opinion) component of Ada’s richness was the vast indoor pool of the penthouse. You’ve never even seen her in the room itself, so you always question the purpose of its existence.
These matters are immaterial to you now, however, as you strip down to nudity and launch yourself into the crisp water. Here, your body is free from the fervent hands of the clingy customer from Mizoil and the overly affectionate Superwoman.
Lap after lap, you adjust to the bitter temperatures and find tranquility in the repetitive routine. This was a pattern you favored, since it is rare you are granted time for yourself. So, you savor what slivers of solitude you're given as you swim through the sky-blue waves.
Body now weary, you reside in the middle of the pool and float there. With no stimulation from the lovesick creatures surrounding you, the thoughts haunting the back of your head creep forward. Here, they whisper the truth.
Despite how magical it may be to surround yourself in glittering riches and adoring affections, your true desires reside and rot deep within you. How badly you want to start fresh somewhere far from this mess, but how guilty you feel for secretly wishing to reject all this luxury.
Then again, these may be the feelings Ada and Leon wish for you to be tormented with. For you to trust them wholly, before yanking the rug from beneath your feet. Tossing you back into the arms of Jill and Carlos, to Umbrella, hell, maybe even the Saddler, if his formidable self managed to survive your laundry list of lovers.
Maybe that is what Jill and Carlos had done in your last interaction, as well. Selling you to Umbrella for the hefty pay they’d surely return them. All the blood splatters and crocodile tears must have been a show to convince you they had no say in the transaction.
Your head begins to ache as these theories pervade through your head. Your trust has been worn thin in these recent months, even the trust you instilled into yourself. Maybe if you just sink lower, let yourself be consumed by the weight of the frigid waves, then all of it will end.
If you end your life, maybe then you’ll finally be at peace.
“Y/N?”
“Jesus-!”
Your arms latch around yourself in a desperate attempt at shielding your naked body.
A glance forward and you find one of Ada’s numerous servants, eyes laser-focused on her feet and nowhere else. You can only imagine what kind of lethal punishment would be in store for this poor worker had she indulged herself in the sight of you. All it would take is some stuttering words and tear-filled eyes and Ada would have all the heads in the world on a stick.
“Um- Ms. Wong is on her way home and wants to see you first thing. If you will, please, uhm- please get dressed and meet us in the living room.”
She scurries off before you can respond.
You figure you’ve swam enough laps around the pool and around the swirling calamity in your mind. From there, you frantically dry off your wet skin and dress yourself before another unwanted guest can see your exposed self.
Through the numerous hallways, you finally arrive in the living room. Dark in its overall appearance, with the familiar accents of red and greenery. Before you can wait for Ada’s arrival, however, something catches your eye.
On the coffee table is a bouquet of flowers. Red roses entwined with strands of dandelions and baby’s breath.
These gifts have become a daily routine, at this point. You’ll find Ada’s favorite roses and your running-inside-joke dandelions nestled beside each other. Oftentimes, she’ll take a stray dandelion and tuck it behind your ear. Overtly romantic per usual, which proves to be Ada’s permanent disposition.
You shuffle around the table to sit upon the adjacent sofa, but find yourself hesitating in the process, afraid to soil it with your mere fingertips. Yes, you have seen lavish furniture, as Carlos and Jill put their cash towards whatever ensured your comfort and safety. However, you have never seen luxury quite like this.
Carefully, you descend your body onto the surface. The couch is soft, but sturdy. Not a thread out of place, nor a wrinkle in sight. Expensive, that’s for damn sure.
“Full-grain leather. Organic cotton. Hand-crafted. Purchased it from a designer in Italy.”
A voice pervades through the silence. The flat, yet soft tone could only be possessed by one person.
You turn over your shoulder to find Ada Wong.
Her body is adorned with a trench coat made of dark leather, framed with a fur trim. A few metal clinks and she unbuckles the coat, tossing it toward a near servant. Beneath the garment is a red dress. Skin-tight, per usual, and worn with those stilettos she's never seen without.
And inevitable with every interaction you have with her, Ada is wearing that sultry-sweet smile and those bambi-soft eyes — a fashion statement only sewn by your hand.
Trailing your gaze off behind her, you see another servant at her side. In their grasp is a tray holding the weight of several wine bottles, as well as an array of burgundy glasses.
“Italy has always been a second home.” Ada is quick to snag your attention back onto her. “Most of your closet is sheer Rome.”
She saunters over to you and drapes herself onto the couch, as though she were posing for a painting and you were wielding the paintbrushes.
Without breaking eye-contact, Ada snaps her fingers and points an acrylic nail to the marble coffee table. The servant, with enough swiftness to avoid dropping the platter and facing her wrath, places the platter down. From there, they begin with their eccentric presentation.
“Tonight, we have a sample of the classic Chardonnay, paired with the vibrant Semillon Sauvignon Blanc. Both extravagant in flavor, but contrast in their-”
“Leave.”
The word is sharp. And still, Ada’s eyes are locked on yours.
All servants, deflected as one may be, simultaneously bow to her. They all proceed to frantically trip over themselves to take their leave.
The doors close with a gentle click, leaving you to inevitably be lodged in the jaws of the beast they fear. It certainly doesn’t help when she stares at you as though you were some feeble prey, ready to be torn into bloodied ribbons.
Those dark eyes tread from the tip of your head, then inch-by-inch down to your feet. Trailing back to meet your gaze, Ada fills the silence.
“So, tell me, which do you prefer? White or red?”
Confused, you furrow your brow and tilt your head like a puppy. It takes everything within Ada not to pounce on you right then and there.
“Like, the color?”
“The wine, petal.” A breathless chuckle drags with her words. You’d feel like an idiot if it weren’t for the enchantment drowning in her eyes.
“Oh! I-uh… I’ve never really tried out much alcohol before.”
“You’ve never drank before?”
“No, I-Well, I have, but only once. One of the therapists at the sanctuary was sneaking in vodka, so me and my friend snuck it into my room and drank it. That-That was a long time ago, though…”
Your friend. You have not thought of him in months.
“Did you sleep with him?”
“Wh-!? No! No, it was never like that! He was just my friend, only that!”
Ada chuckles. A deep, thrumming sound.
“I’m teasing you, Y/N. Just can’t help myself when you get all nervous like that.”
She then grasps one of the several bottles from the platter. Sagrantino, a bold red wine. Directly imported from Umbria, Italy. The silence in the room is filled with the pouring of alcohol.
“Well, I prefer red, but that’s just my preference. Got all night to find yours.”
Glass now in your hand, you twirl the stem around in circles and watch as the wine swishes around in hues of deep crimson and purple.
“Go ahead, petal. Drink.”
Ada has a certain timbre in her voice that lulls you, as though she were a siren. No matter what demand falls from her mouth, you find yourself complying to every wish of hers.
So, you drink.
The aromas of violets and berries envelop your tongue, blended with its dry texture that leaves behind a subtle spice. It is a tad overbearing, yes, but delicious in flavor.
A few more sips and your body is overcome with a sudden warmth. The clothes you are wearing feel stuffy and beads of sweat begin to build beneath them. You’ve been tipsy before, maybe even bridging on fully drunk, but nothing has ever garnered this reaction out of you.
Did just a few sips give you heatstroke or something? What is happening to you?
“If you hadn’t slept with him, then who did you sleep with?”
The question appears out of nowhere. Too occupied with studying this sudden heatwave, you do not respond to her.
“The two that held you captive, maybe? Surely, they couldn’t hold themselves back?”
Ah, yes. Jill and Carlos. Just when you think you can abandon them in the previous chapter of your life, they slither their way into the new pages and engrave themselves with the ink.
Begrudgingly, you answer. “Yes, I-um… I slept with both of them.”
“Interesting.”
A pregnant silence settles as Ada’s fingers dance around the rim of the wine glass. Her gaze has yet to leave yours.
“When I found you in Valdelobos, you had bite marks on your neck. Who gave them to you?”
Your brain tells you to lie and blame the Los Iluminados with their hungry teeth. However, the prospect of being dishonest to Ada and the inevitable consequences that would follow prevent you from being untruthful.
“Jill. She gave them to me.”
The expression on her face is indistinguishable. If your other suitors learned of your sexual partners, they’d wage a war on the entire planet. Ada, however, is different. She seems… amused by it all.
“Figured.” She answers. “And how did Jill treat you?”
As stated before, there is no space for dishonesty with Ada preset. Even if you sprung to your feet and raced out the door, she’d find the answers to her curiosity one way or another.
“She was rough. Really rough. Jill, she-she didn’t like to explore, either. We did the same thing every time.”
“Did what every time?”
Ada’s unadulterated attention is latched onto every syllable you speak. Almost as though this were some sleepover in a chick-flick, where you were telling your B.F.F. of how you lost your v-card to the dashing quarterback you’ve had a crush on all year. All that’s missing is the glossy magazines and microwave popcorn.
“She went down on me. It was all we did, all that she wanted to do. A-And not that I’m complaining or ungrateful! But…”
“But…?”
“But, I-I always- I think I always wanted to try… More.”
“And what does more entail?”
“I-uh. Erm, I-I don’t- I think-“
“You wanted to go down on a woman?”
You’re sure your skin must be hotter than the surface of the sun by now.
“Yes, but, I-I’ve never even done it before, so I know I’d suck at it, anyway.”
Her fingers find the hem of your shirt and she begins to fidget with the fabric.
“Would you like me to show you how…?”
You scrutinize Ada’s features for some sign of a joke, but you find nothing but sincerity. Her fingers then tread lower, nails grazing the edge of your thigh in a teasing approach.
“I could give you some private lessons…”
The thought of doing that to any person, no matter an ex or new fling, has a surge of heat pervading through your body. Your chest rises and falls with rapid speed, heart racing with acute palpitations. Seriously, what on Earth is happening to you? It was only a few sips of alcohol and some littering flirtations, none of what is happening to your body is normal!
The glass of wine you once held is nearly shattered with how swiftly Ada takes it from your hands. The wine she indulges herself in has been abandoned, as well, joining your glass on the coffee table.
Ada is more interested in what this newfound, aphrodisiac-induced side of you has to offer, instead.
Yes, guilt rots in her stomach for what she has done. This guilt remained present as she stalked the servant who crushed the pills into a white powder before spewing it into the wine bottle. However, any lucidity still inside her had perished the moment she reunited with you in Valdelobos.
Of course, her actions inevitably resulted in the aphrodisiac coursing through her system, as well. Not that she even needed the hearty drugs or liquid courage, to begin with. You merely sigh and Ada is clutching her thighs together.
And this is certainly the case when her lips finally meet yours. It had begun as a gentle exploration, a symphony of sensations that ignited a light fire within her soul.
When the aphrodisiac finally strikes her, however, there is no room left for tenderness.
Mouth still latched onto yours like some sort of parasite, her clawed hand presses to your chest and pushes. Your back meets the plush surface of the couch and Ada does not waste another second before she’s caging herself around you.
When her acrylic nail ghosts against your nipple, you let out a sharp whine. In response, Ada freezes. She has heard you cry in pain, misery, exhaustion, but never in rapture. And she had not anticipated the impact it would have on her. If anything, the sound you made was more of a light gasp, but still, it had conjured some feral despair she did not recognize.
This intensity stirring in her stomach may have been charged by the aphrodisiac. Morseo, maybe it is the fact she had not satiated any sexual desires in several years. Ada hadn’t even orgasmed once, for that matter. No physical touch, no bedroom fun, no playing around with toys — absolutely nothing.
Despite her sultry nature (and contrary to all your obsessive partners), Ada has never actually fantasized of taking you to bed, either. This task persevered as her most difficult mission. Especially on lonely nights, you became no better than a devil on her shoulder, persuading her to sin.
If Ada indulged that tiny Y/N with thick horns and a sharp trident, she knew she wouldn’t waste another second before claiming you as her most precious, most imperative, most prized possession.
Now that you are finally here, under her, just like she has always wanted, all that longing and suffering comes bubbling to the surface.
“Ada? Is-Is everything okay?”
Your lips are puffy from the relentless passion they have endured, shimmering from the mess of saliva and lipstick stains. A lazy haze engulfs your eyes, as well, illuminating that playful glint she is so enamored with.
“Please… ‘M needy…”
She could assume you were weaponizing your charm by how effortlessly weak you make her.
“Stand up. Follow me.”
Ada is curt with her demands, as she has always been. This time, though, there is a perceptible desperation soaked into her tone.
Your legs wobble when you stand, as you are still woozy from the fervid intimacy. Ada maintains a tight posture, but it wouldn’t take a genius to notice the lack of sophistication in her stance. Words fail to describe just how delicious it was to feel your body against her. Even for just a moment.
She then grasps your hand, guiding you out of the living room and through the many hallways that follow through the spacious penthouse.
Both you and Ada finally halt in front of the two doors that have haunted your curiosity. Fortunately for you, one half of this curiosity of yours is alleviated.
Ada temporarily releases your hand and strides toward the door on your right. With several beeps to the keypad, the light shines green and the doorknob clicks.
“Come now.”
Another demand of hers is brought to fruition immediately. You interlock your fingers with Ada’s as she leads you past the threshold. And all of the theories prancing around your mind regarding what you’ll find ultimately failed you. Instead, you find the exact opposite.
If you were to Google ‘red room of pain’, a picture of this room would be the first result.
The walls, ceilings, and floors are all painted black, embellished with accents of Ada’s signature red. The lack of windows in the room are compromised by mirrors, which cover every surrounding wall. There’s even a wide array on the ceiling, which provide a full view of all possible angles. A purposeful decision, surely.
The dark candelabras scattered around provide minimal, golden light, as well. Some are positioned on surfaces, while the standing few are nestled in the empty corners.
Directly centered in the room is a canopy bed, also painted black. The drapes strung upon the four posts contrast in hues of deep red. The comforters, lavish in their appearance and texture, share these same hues, as well. You do not look over the notable design of the headboard, either. Perfect for any preferred form of restraint.
Behind the bed and against the wall is a tall, intricately-carved cabinet. The contents within are a mystery, but you can only assume it has to do with the activities intended to take place in this room.
To the right is an electric fireplace tucked in the corner. Draped before it is a tiger skin rug with the head intact, jaw wired ajar to flaunt the display of sharp teeth. The fireplace is grouped with a set of two leather chairs, hugged by another spacious leather sofa. The texture is deliberately chosen for easy clean-up, you assume.
In the far left corner of the room is a short platform supporting the weight of a clawfoot bathtub which is, yet again, colored black. The edges of the golden claw feet are painted in a maroon red, as though they have been soaked in blood. A detail demanded by Ada, you have no doubt.
Two robes are hung on the wall behind the bathtub. One is silken in the hue of red, while the other is fluffy and is purchased in the exact shade of your favorite color. Surrounding the bathtub are a collage of soaps adhering to your preferred scents. You have learned to no longer wonder how she knew such minute details about yourself. At this point, it would be strange if she didn’t know something about you.
“While you were busy with that mutt, I was here. Working on all this.” Ada stretches her arms out in presentation, showing off the renovation.
While you’re busy scrutinizing the new environment, you fail to notice how you’re neglecting the needs of a certain someone. A bad habit of yours, you have come to realize. Those acrylic claws ensnare around your forearm with enough firmness to grasp your attention, before guiding you to stand before the mirror in front of the bed.
When you meet her gaze in your reflection, you fail in your efforts to not grow flustered. Ada’s eyes, normally adorned with softness, have now been overwhelmed with salacious fervor.
When her fingertip meets the skin of your neck, another gasp is pulled from your chest. A noise she relishes in. Her other hand fiddles with your shirt, sharp nails just begging to tear through the fabric like some rabid monster.
You are not far behind her in terms of desperation, so you abide by the desires she does not verbalize and you remove all of your clothing.
You fail to register Ada’s downright feral temperamen in response. The shivering of her hands, the heat radiating from her body, the heavy breathing over your shoulder – it is all too much for her to handle. Her eyes don’t hide this truth, either, as they have nearly gone all black from the dilation of her pupils.
Ada’s hand hovers over your skin, afraid to take that step, the very step that will destroy any remnants of self-control she still clung to. It’s nothing short of a miracle that she can still restrain herself from sinking her teeth, her claws, God, every toy in her closet into every inch of plump skin she can reach.
You, however, grow impatient from her hesitation and place your hand atop hers, pressing it firmly against your naked waist. Leaning further against her chest, you finally break the silence.
“’Wanna taste you, Ada. Please.”
She shudders in response. Unbeknownst to you, she had completely forgotten about that promise she swore to you minutes ago. How could she think of anything else when perfection in human form is pleading for her touch?
“On the bed.”
You swear you hear a tremble in her voice, but you chalk it up to your wild imagination. Ignoring it, you abide by her wish and stroll over to the bed. The surface is plush and welcomes you into its soft embrace. You adjust yourself comfortably on your back, relishing in how the soft comforters caress your naked skin.
When you hear the sound of that dress falling to the ground, you shift your gaze forward. Now, it is your turn to gawk at someone’s nudity.
Yes, you may have fantasized about what she may look like beneath all those red dresses, and the images in your mind palace certainly did not fail you.
Her tits are perky, nipples pretty and pink, and they sit tight on her chest; they’re the kind of pair other women would drop thousands of dollars on to obtain. Beneath them is a set of light abs that are rose-tinted with flushed nerves. They lead to her hip dips, which frame the goods between her legs you’ve been dying for a taste of.
“What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?”
Wit run dry, you have no response left in you but a meek nod.
Those model-worthy legs then saunter over to the bed. Your heart stutters miserably as Ada crawls on top of you again, now closer than ever before. She touches up the pillow beneath your head to ensure your comfort. Despite the fervor racing through her veins, the sake of your well-being always perseveres as most important.
“There you are. Comfy?”
You answer with a weak “mm-hmm” and she responds with a sweet chortle. God, she can’t get enough of you.
Ada inches further until her thighs encase your head, hovering over the face that has haunted her mind for years. Anyone with a brain would spill gallons upon gallons of blood for this sight of you, she is sure of it.
Slick drool seeps from her folds, landing onto your lips. Eagerly, you lap up any remnants you’ve been granted and revel in the flavor. A pinch of natural sourness, but sprinkled in with the expensive soaps lining the shelves in her shower. Far better than the wine you have since forgotten about.
Ada then points to various spots of her pussy, speaking in direct tones. “You lick here, kiss here, and suck here. Understand?”
With a quick nod, you wait in anticipation for her to indulge you in what you’ve been aching for. Her hips, shaky as they surprisingly are, finally descend.
At first, you begin your work with weak, nervous kitten licks. Ada is not a fan of this stage fright, however. Her acrylics dig into your scalp and yank.
“I said use your tongue.”
A laugh of amusement parts from your mouth (inevitably squeezing her fragile heart). You finally spit out a glob of saliva onto her and plunge your tongue straight into her dewy heat, lapping up every sliver of her you can obtain. And the reaction it garners festers a burning fire in your stomach.
She stutters on the edge of her words, her head dipping back. “God… You’re a natural, petal...”
Ada’s hips begin to rock the second your lazy lapping hastens into zealous slurping. With a tighter grip on her, you plunge your tongue past her entrance and slurp the creamy slick. The sounds you are able to pull from her are deep and throaty, but smooth and sexy. They meld with the sounds of the bed creaking beneath the weight of her incessant motions.
You continue with your efforts, thrusting your wet muscle in and out, in and out, in and out. Without another second to process, a sudden gush of liquid splashes across your face. It surges across your face and down your neck, staining the lavish pillows.
Is she squirting?
Even as you grant your tense jaw a break, the liquid continues to spurt from her. Ada’s fingers reach down to rub herself in circular motions, causing the pressure to hasten like a popped bottle of champagne. With your tongue lolled out of your mouth, you manage to garner some of the excess into your mouth, of which Ada aims herself toward.
When the dam is finally eased, another demand is thrown your way.
“Mommy needs more, baby.”
Mommy? You’ve never heard that one before.
“Time to start working on that clit, yeah?”
Aware of her impatient strike, you hurriedly begin to leave a series of obscene mwah’s on her puffy clit. Ada throbs with every careless kiss you leave behind, growing more irritated the longer her exact wishes are not brought to fruition. You should’ve known not to disobey her word, even when your intentions were in the right place.
Your attempts to ease Ada into the rough treatment of your tongue were met with her smushing herself into your face. The muffled squeal of surprise you let out is short-lived and instantly replaced by the lewd squelches and slurps you work into her clit.
Your head vigorously shakes back and forth, side-to-side against that sweet spot. The motion sends white-hot pleasure tickling up Ada’s spine, evident in the sloppy grinding of her hips and the pornographic sounds pervading the room.
You’re barely granted air to breathe, but Ada has been blinded by her own need. Drowning you in her scent, her taste, her warmth is nothing short of the most picturesque wet dream come to life. The way her slick is coating your face, arousal dripping down your neck — there is nothing left to do but abandon any and all control left behind. She just wants more, more, more, more, more, more, moremoremoremoremore-
“Oh, God!”
Ada has fully resorted to using your face as her toy. She hardly recognizes herself, humping that magical mouth of yours like some mutt in heat. Then again, you’ve always had a knack for weeding out parts of her she didn’t know existed. That is especially the case now, as that newfound heaven sits right at the horizon and morphs her into a creature crazed.
“It’s coming…!”
Ada gushes into your mouth, overwhelming your senses with her, her arousal, and all her juices. Her jaw drops and her eyebrows pinch as the searing pleasure courses through her body. Her thighs, shivering and sweaty, clench around your head and keep your head in firm place. Her back arches and her hips buck from the intensity, as though some demonic spirit tore her soul straight from her chest.
She’s never seen herself squirm like some sort of dying insect, but when it is your touch she is met with, it only makes sense this is the reaction it’d garner.
Ada has had her fair share of one-night stands, but fuck, they had nothing on this absolute rhapsody you bring her. To be overwhelmed in the touch of you is absolute perfection. It is better than touching the fluffy belly of a lamb, better than blankets fresh out of a dryer, better than the plastic encasing of a life preserver while trapped in a thrashing sea.
All of it comes to head as her orgasm engulfs her, all by the works of you and your marvelous, outrageously-perfect self.
As her breathing evens out and her body reduces to a puddle of jelly, Ada’s brain finally produces a rational thought. Only now does she realize she had been crushing you beneath her weight. With swift, Ada-Wong-style finesse, she crawls away from your swollen mouth. Her heart throbs as she blesses her vision with the way you look now.
Oh, there you are. Sweet petal.
She could topple over that edge once more as the sheer sight of you now. Drunken eyes dazed, mouth all swollen, and rendered to a pussy-drunk mess. It should be a crime for that pretty face to be covered in anything other than her dripping cum.
The fog clouding your brain begins to clear, as well. Lapping up any last few remnants of her still on your face, you begin to discern your surroundings. Specifically that of Ada. Her thumb caresses the jut of your cheekbone. Her lips, smeared with lipstick and drool, scatter ardent kisses down your jaw.
When you look at the expression stamped on her face, you have to stifle a laugh from how stupefied she looks. As though you were in some cartoon and she had been whacked with a sledgehammer. Blue birds circling around her head and all.
“I…” Ada begins, but cuts herself off with a dry swallow. “Mommy wants to try something with you. Will you let her?”
You nod in response, but that is not enough for her.
“Say it.”
Another sharp demand is sent your way, but this time, it is framed with the newfound desperation you conjured within her.
With a gulp, you answer. “Yes, mommy.”
“Fuck.”
Did she just curse? A woman sworn to a distinguished, controlled disposition has, for the very first time, sworn in front of you? Ada is taken aback by this, as well, evident in the laugh of disbelief she exhales.
Promptly, she then leaves your side. Not without a few last caresses to your skin, however. You remain in place within the sea of comforters, listening as she takes out equipment from the cabinet behind you.
The efforts put into trying to discern her intentions through the mirror ahead of you are met with failure, as Ada always loves a good surprise. Especially when it is wrapped in a pretty bow for the love of her life.
“Do you trust me?”
You answer with a nod. Another mistake.
“Words.”
“Yes. I trust you.”
A grin spreads on her face, the one you know all too well.
“Perfect.”
Ada returns to your trail of vision and her hands grasp your foot. She waves a red, silken bow playfully, before using it to latch your ankle to the adjacent bedpost. Another strand of silk is ensnared around your other ankle and fastened to the separate bedpost, binding both of your legs completely.
The last time you were tied up like this, it ended with you writhing from the oscillation between pain and pleasure. All you can do is pray Ada has the mercy you begged from Jill.
And as though she could read your mind, Ada begins to speak about her.
“Since your ex-girlfriend lacks substance, I guess it’s up to me to show you what genuine pleasure is.”
You don’t even want to think about what Jill Valentine is occupied with at the moment. Wherever she may be.
“Y’know, she’d kill you for what you’re doing to me right now.”
Ada quirks a brow, something sinister sinking in her eyes. She smiles at you with that infamous, evil grin.
“Let her try. She wouldn’t be the first.”
The first? What does that mean?
You are given no time to dwindle on this statement, not when Ada finally presents how she intends to bring you that “genuine pleasure”.
She withdraws a vibrator as though it were merely pocket change for a cashier. One of those big, wand-like ones you’ve seen in porn.
It’s mortifying to admit, but on lonely nights in the sanctuary, you’d sneak off into the computer lab to watch those kinds of videos. You only stopped when a security guard intruded your personal time to identify all the “strange” noises he heard. So, although your experience is limited, you’ve seen enough in those videos to know the impact that toy can have.
“This one’s my favorite. I have no doubt I can make it yours, too.”
On top of the stunned silence you’ve been forced into upon seeing that toy, Ada then shows you her second method of bringing you pleasure no human but her can ignite.
A thick, curved, blood-red dildo is held in her dark acrylics. Bulky veins are carved into the rubber skin, spreading all the way to the bulbous head.
Coursing through the images in your head, you search for some resemblance of your past partners and find several similarities. Though, you find differences, as well. It stretches into a similar length to Leon, but is passing him by an additional inch. It possesses the same girth as Carlos, but the curve is more subtle and purposeful than his obnoxious size.
Had Ada somehow known this? Did she add this specific toy to her varying collection for this reason?
“You look like you’ve got something to say…”
The woman in question scrutinizes your body language for any semblance of emotion. Fear? Arousal? Maybe even both?
“No, I just- I’ve never seen… toys in real life, before.” There you go again, stuttering through another confession.
Even when you’re tethered up like a feral animal and entirely naked on display, you’re still shy with your words.
“You’re adorable like this.” Ada leans in close to you again, lips grazing over yours. “I could just eat you out…”
You’re hauled into a searing kiss before you can process her words. You’ve almost forgotten how every kiss of hers is exceptional in erasing any coherency still in your brain.
“Oh… Another day, petal. Another day.”
Even though Ada could continue with the flirtation for centuries, she decides to put an end to the banter and watch in reverie as you fall apart. She guides you to sit up, and obedient as you are, you comply and follow her lead. She then nestles herself behind you and guides you to lay down against her chest.
“There you go. You’re perfect…”
Ada’s praises certainly do not ease the scorching mayhem in your body. Her hands, gentle as they normally are, spread your legs apart with one swift, rough motion.
“Don’t hide from mommy. Understood?”
You answer her demands verbally, as you have since learned Ada does not favor hushed responses. You don’t think you could handle being bent over her knee right now, ass bruised raw. At least, not for tonight.
With that, Ada takes back possession of the thick dildo. A hushed chortle fans against your shoulder when she feels a shiver race down your spine.
“Nervous?” She laughs, as though your body wasn’t practically screaming at her to bring it gratification.
The dildo is first splayed across your stomach. The base touches below your pubic mound, while the tip lands just above your belly button — an accurate display of how far it will reach inside you.
“See. Not too bad, right? I’m sure Leon could go even deeper.”
Of course not. Fuck, she knows exactly what she is doing! And somehow, she knows his exact size, as well.
“Wan’ it…” You whine. “Mommy…”
If you skimmed through the pages of a dictionary for the meaning of ‘starstruck’, you’d find that face stamped into the page. She gasps, as though you had given her that title by your own accord and conjured the idea yourself. Who knew some measly, kinky nickname could bring the Ada Wong to her knees?
“I wanted to tease you more. Watch you writhe and squirm for me, but how can I resist you?” Her fingers curl under your chin and shift your gaze to hers. “Hmm?”
“Don’t-Don’t resist, then. It’s hot when you let go.”
You feel Ada pulsate again beneath you. If you had known you possessed this much power, you would’ve let her between your legs a long time ago.
“Oh, yeah?”
She spits out a wad of saliva onto her hand and treads lower, circling the rim of your entrance and providing lubrication.
“Want to see mommy let go?”
Ada draws you into another kiss, reveling in the way you whimper for more. The abuse of your mouth did not end with just her on top of you, clearly. She ventures into more aggressive efforts, biting into your lips and sucking on your lax tongue. Those cat-like claws reach for your nipple, pinching and playing with your sensitivity.
The tip of the dildo poking at your dripping entrance catches you off guard. You are not granted another second to process before it passes that barrier, stretching you out with its thickness. The kiss is broken as a pathetic cry gasps from your slack jaw, eyes rolling into the back of your skull.
“M-Mommy, fuck-!”
The visceral reaction you have only intensifies the deeper Ada sinks the toy into you, protruding gentle thrusts to ease you into the severity. And she is just eating up every sound and shiver she can pull out of you.
Your brain and body are now entirely controlled by your libido as she accelerates from her slow, torturous rhythm. All misty and sweaty, you reach your hand down to rub a sensitive spot she had neglected in favor of your abusing your poor guts. She slaps your hand away harshly.
With a glance of confusion, still masked in sheer desire, you look to see how Ada still has that familiar look of animalistic fervor on her face.
"Ah, ah, ah. Can't touch what belongs to mommy."
From there, you resort to clinging to the sheets as if you were hanging from a tall building and this bed was a saving hand. All you want is more, more, more.
“Not fond of that, are we?” Ada laughs as though this were all some funny joke. She licks a stray tear cascading down your cheek. “You’re okay, petal. Mommy will take care of you.”
You swear you felt your heart do a cartwheel when you see her reach for the vibrator. Fucking finally. Holding it up for you to see, Ada clicks the button and the vigorous vibrations spring to life.
“This what you want?”
“Yes!”
That damned chortle of hers is dark, so goddamned sinful. Yet still, it festers an unknown, desperate ache inside of you.
The toy lurks down, your hyperventilating breaths hastening with every passing second, before finally making contact with your sex. And all those awful, poorly-made pornos were right about these things: they’re fucking lethal.
“F-Fuck, yes!”
You swear you can feel your melted brain ooze out of your ears, replaced by some sex-hungry fiend who's receiving their first fill in years. The quivering motions of the vibrator and the thick girth plunging into your gushing heat has your back arching, just the same as all those pornstars.
And Ada — oh, she couldn’t be happier to be here with you.
There is no high quite like those desperate hands clinging to her naked skin for stability as you lose yourself to euphoria. She could die right in this moment; some random past enemy of hers could barge in and blow her brains out. Still, it would not be enough to even waver the state of nirvana pervading all her senses. It is more than she could have ever asked for.
A sudden heat permeates throughout your sex and robs all attention of yours. It is a sensation you have never felt before, even when your ex-partners were buried inside your body. Ada can sense it, as well.
“That’s it! Come on now!”
One last squeal of “mommy-!” and you’re toppling over the edge of orgasm with no promise of salvation.
It plunges into you like a parasite and strikes like a harsh punch to the gut. The intensity prevails and perfuses through your abused, numb body. It’s all just you, your weak form, and the vehemence coursing through you. The delectation leaves no inch of you untouched, either, as though it were a greedy poison scavenging for any last sliver of you it can touch.
Through the strength of it all, Ada clings to you tighter and guides you through the land of cloud nine. It is all almost too good to be true, this idyllic moment. She stalks your reflection in the mirror and reprimands herself for not installing cameras to capture this perfect, once-in-a-lifetime moment.
Any lingering doubts Ada had of whether keeping you with her was the best decision for your well-being have all been squashed. Christ, if it wasn’t settled before, it certainly is now.
You are never escaping Ada Wong. Whether you like it or not.
Because God, you are lethal.
And Ada has never known what it would feel like to be on the receiving end of such violence, with ecstasy and delirium carved into the knife you brandish. This knife remains lodged in her chest long after you’ve both succumbed to mind-numbing pleasure, the sharp metal twitching with every beat her sensitive heart passes.
Your skin is warm and soft from the muscle-soothing bath taken after, complemented by the taste of Chardonnay and chocolate-covered strawberries you both enjoyed while soaking in the bubbles.
You’ve now been nestled beneath the covers back in the master bedroom. You’re dressed in silken pajamas and teetering on the edge of unconsciousness, laid upon Ada’s chest and listening to the lulling rhythm of her heartbeat.
After a long period spent with Ada forcing you to give her kisses, she finally grants your groggy self some much-needed rest. Her hands still leave loving caresses on every fraction of flesh she can reach, nonetheless. She has to stifle a chuckle when you’re out like a light in mere seconds.
Much like any other night, Ada’s mind is overwhelmed with love. All of which babble and ramble about you, you, you, and only you.
The head that possesses wit and character like she has never seen before, cheeks she squeezes like an adorable baby when she just can’t resist, lips that are surely capable of killing a man with the emotion they can provoke — all attributes that constitute the enigma Ada loves most.
A neck that conjures the dulcet melody that is your voice, shoulders forever adorned in a blanket of her kisses, a chest that protects the heart she’d tear the world asunder to keep safe — all attributes that constitute the angel Ada loves most.
Arms that always pull her into a sugar-sweet embrace after a torturous day at work, hands that could rival a kitten’s paw with its sheer softness, hips that with one sway could surely turn all evil in this disgusting world to good — all attributes that constitute the deity Ada loves most.
Sex that even the greatest poets couldn’t utilize all human languages to encapsulate, legs you’d find etched into renaissance paintings hung in grand museums, feet that strut straight into her life and robbed her of all clarity — all attributes that constitute the one with full possession of Ada Wong and her weak heart.
The one she has loved wholly for over six years and will do so forevermore.
“Sweet dreams, petal…”
One last kiss to your forehead and Ada falls asleep just like that. Lips pressed against your skin and cocooned in the warm shell of her devotion. Just the way it should be.
Just the way it will remain for eternity, no matter what she has to do to keep you in her arms.
Once more, with every day the fog settles, you have come to learn several new things.
Oh, how Leon Kennedy and Ada Wong love Y/N L/N.
It is evident throughout every day, where fragments of their adoration are sprinkled into every moment you spend together.
Life with these two is a humble routine, but sporadic in the same breath. You receive whiplash from the constant oscillation between a cozy cabin in the woods to a sky-high penthouse in the city.
Ada is suave and sneaky, always maintaining a sharp eye for anything out of place and utilizing it to keep you close by. She’ll tuck a flower behind your ear with an ardent kiss, before demanding her workers to clean the bloody footprints left on her pristine floors. With a few more well-placed touches and expensive gifts, you’ll remain oblivious to the violence that treads behind the scenes. Exactly how Ada needs it, where your protection and happiness is ensured.
There is no need to take that aloof, red-adorned exterior to heart, either. Not when the other locked door across the lust-induced room tells a different story. Just don’t be surprised if you see her venturing past that threshold in the dead of night, hours drifting by without her parting ways.
Leon is the closest human personification of a loyal guard dog. Hooked to your side, you have no choice but to endure the suffocating protection and affections he forces onto you. It certainly does not help when you find him lurking in dark corners, staring at you like some Peeping Tom, before showering you in candied praises and gratitude for mending the shattered remains of his heart.
There is no need to take that territorial, puppy-dog exterior to heart, either. Not when the cameras littered around the cabin tell a different story. Just don’t be surprised if you feel the presence of eyes looming over your shoulder, watching your every move in complete entrancement.
Time continues to pass of this routine and these facts further cement themselves into your life.
The year is now striding through September, where the Summer heat eases and you’re cradled by harsher winds and descending leaves. It is troubling to believe it has nearly been a whole year since this fiasco began, but you have managed to survive this long, if that proves anything.
As another week spent in Ada’s residence meets its end, you nestle yourself on one of the many luxurious couches and watch as the sun sets over the horizon. Here, you anticipate Leon’s return.
Despite how much easier it would be to travel by yourself, Leon insists on coming here and joining you on the plane ride to his cabin. Strange, but as clingy as he is, you do not find yourself surprised by these antics. He is meant to arrive the following morning, as well, but you can’t recall the last time he has ever followed these rules.
Just as you anticipated, a whistle pierces through the air and grasps your attention. When you turn toward the sound, you find Leon Kennedy. Adorned in that familiar sheepskin jacket and lopsided, love-induced smile. He whispers your name breathlessly and makes a swift dash toward you.
The way he engulfs you into a tenacious embrace, any outsider would think he was a soldier finally returning to his devoted spouse after years apart. In reality, it has only been a week. But, what the strangers outside are unaware of is how a single hour is too much for Leon’s weak heart to fathom, hence his obnoxious disposition whenever he greets you after mere seconds apart.
And just as predicted, his lips then meet yours in a grueling affection. No matter how much time passes, you’ll always find yourself astounded from just how needy and demanding his kisses are. As though he were trying to consume you whole; as though he were trying to become so close, no one will know where you start and he ends.
When Leon’s empty hunger is finally (albeit temporarily) satiated from your lips, he then reverts to peppering an onslaught of more kisses across your face. On your nose, cheeks, forehead, eyes, jaw — he revels in the boisterous laughter it summons from you. Music to his ears, he always finds himself remarking.
Before your giggling fit can ease, Leon then positions himself mere inches away from you. Much to your horror, he indulges himself in his most favorite game: freeze and stare. A game you have become quite familiar with.
"There you are… Just let me look at you..."
And that is exactly what he does. Watches you. Perusing every detail upon your face and gushing over the raw beauty sewn into your flesh. There is no denying how horrifically obsessed this man is with you, that is for certain.
Uncomfortable beneath his scrutiny, you scour through your brain for a plausible reason to escape this. With the excuse of needing to retrieve some items you had forgotten to pack, complemented by asking if he’d like to help you obtain such, Leon is folding like a cheap suit and abiding by whatever demands you throw his way.
Like a dog on a leash, Leon follows your lead as you venture up the marble staircase, down the hall, and through the door of Ada’s in-home office. Per her request, she asked you to pack heavy for your return to his cabin.
You fear it implies you will be stuck in those woods for God-knows how long, but with the perceptible elation in her expression, stronger than ever before, you know this theory weighing in your brain is not feasible.
Knowing Ada, she would never be so joyous to leave your side. Especially when it is Leon Kennedy taking her place.
Nonetheless, you brush off the peculiarity and do exactly what she asked of you. And what you certainly couldn’t part from was your beloved opossum plushy, who had made a home in Ada’s office on the leather sofa.
When you take the plushy into your grasp, you take the moment to smooth out the ruffled tufts of faux fur on his body. You adjust the ribbon ensnared around his neck and ensure he is in spectacular shape. Who knows, maybe on the drive back to the cabin, you’ll both stumble into another lady raccoon your furry buddy may want to impress.
One last pat to the opossum’s cotton-filled head and you adjust him comfortably in your bag, engulfing him between the several quilts and pillows you intend to bring with you. It is a lengthy trip back to the cabin for the three of you, after all.
When you turn around to leave, expecting a certain secret agent to follow close by, you’re shocked to look over your shoulder and find the exact opposite. Instead of clinging to you like a pesky illness, per usual, Leon hovers over Ada’s desk, instead. Entranced by something he had plucked from the surface.
“Leon? What is it…?” You question, taking careful steps toward him.
When you halt beside him, you find his shuddering body overwhelmed with heaving breaths, evident rage latched to every rasping exhale. You peek over his broad shoulder to see what conjured such a tyrannical reaction out of him, only to just be met with bafflement.
In his grasp are two small strips of paper, shivering in his shaky grasp. One-way plane tickets to Rome. Yours and Ada’s names stamped on the sheets. Scheduled for that very night.
While your brain is scouring about, searching for some logical explanation, Leon has the entire story painted for him in exquisite detail.
Ada intends to take you from him. And never in his life has he touched a surface of fury so scorching.
He has never been fond of her, but he has grown to trust her in this period of time. Only in the capacity regarding you, yes, but there was still some level of trust evident.
She’s a damn good fighter, after all. He knows she’d protect you by all means necessary and to never lay a hand on you, but he should’ve known she’d eventually manipulate her tools to take you away from him.
Leon should’ve known she’d resort to such drastic measures in the end, as he planned on doing the very same. He intended to take advantage of his role in the Torrents Capture-Force group and send an army of trained soldiers to assassinate her. Plain and simple. Then, he’d be granted his desire of eternity by your side.
Now, there is a loose thread in his plans. And it is wearing a red dress and leaving gloss-stained kisses upon the skin of the one he loves most.
Leon does not utter a single word. Instead, he chucks the crumbled fragments of paper to the ground and rushes past you, vanishing from the office in several large strides.
You follow suit, while trying to assure him of how it was surely a mistake. In your head, you concluded the tickets were intended as a surprise vacation, but Ada had simply left Leon’s ticket in a different location. None of your efforts succeeded, as Leon continues on far ahead of you.
Before you can begin your descent down the stairs, though, something strange catches your eye.
Those two locked doors, mirroring each other.
You know what lies behind one of the doors, where Ada has restrained your limbs and reduced your brain to puddled mush more times than you can count. You have yet to see what lies behind the opposite door, however.
As you stand here, you find that very door unlocked and ajar.
Curiosity getting the better of you, you abandon your attempts at assuaging Leon’s emotions and shift your attention to the door. When you take a peek inside, just a mere peak, your heart plunges into your stomach the second your eyes adjust to the contents of the room.
The floors, walls, and ceiling are entirely made of cement, accompanied by a cheap lightbulb swaying from above. As though someone was just in here.
The entire expanse is empty, besides the two metal chairs centered in the middle of the room. The leather restraints around the arms and legs of the chairs are now loose. All that is left upon the metal surface are stained splatters of deep-red blood.
Instead of trying to find a reasonable conclusion, your brain falls silent. All you can do is stare in stunned silence as your heart rages in violent, accelerating thumps.
You are only torn from this trance when a shout echoes from downstairs. It is met with deafening silence, accompanied by what you think is an occasional grunt and bang through the thick walls. One last glance of uncertainty into the room and you finally turn tail, rushing down the stairs and toward the source of the roaring sound.
Stumbling into the living room, chest rising and falling in rapid rhythm, you find yourself frozen in place once again when you discover the very last thing you expected. Leon has been thrown to the ground, evident in the shattered coffee table and surrounding clutter.
On top of him is Carlos.
He looks like a feral animal, snarling and barring his teeth as though the blonde beneath him were prey he has been dying to sink his teeth into. His fists just plunge into Leon’s bloodied skull again and again and again and again and again and again and again and-
A soft hand meets your forearm, causing you to whip around to discern the sudden presence.
Behind you is Jill.
Battered and bruised, covered in a mess of infected cuts and wounds, a gasp of your name bridges on her lips. Through her brutalized appearance, you find sheer euphoria sparkling in her blue eyes at the sight of you. Just like how she has always seen you: a drop of purity through the drowning blood.
Before a breathless syllable of your name can reach the air, you’re shoved out of the way and Jill is tackled to the ground. You identify Ada through the flash of speed, crawling on top of your injured ex-lover and beating her within an inch of her life.
Underneath the weight of the chaos, all you can think about is how you’ve already seen this movie before. You have a track record of running, you have a track record of staying. But, hey, third times a charm, right?
Should you flee and pray to God this group of secret agents and detectives never find you? Or should you use what little combat skills you have and attempt to fight off four military-trained soldiers?
When push comes to shove, however, you do know one thing as a definite fact.
You never should’ve stepped a fucking foot into Raccoon City.
⁺ 🎧 , 🪷 you are currently listening to . . . ⁺ 🪺 , 🎵 ꪆ
THE BONUS TRACK !
❝ I REARRANGE MY MEMORIES
I TRY TO REWRITE OUR LIFE . . . ❞
here is what i imagined leon's cabin to look like: one. two. three. four. five. six.
and here is what i imagined ada's penthouse to look like: one. two. three. four. five. six.
(also, i saw this pic of leon with his hair slicked back and……………. you couldn’t pay me to not somehow implement this here….)
gif creds :: leon & ada.
#moonfairy#resident evil#leon kennedy#ada wong#jill valentine#carlos oliveira#resident evil x reader#leon kennedy x reader#ada wong x reader#jill valentine x reader#carlos oliveria x reader#resident evil imagine#leon kennedy imagine#ada wong imagine#jill valentine imagine#carlos oliveira imagine#yandere resident evil#yandere leon kennedy#yandere ada wong#yandere jill valentine#yandere carlos oliveira#yandere#gn reader#gender neutral reader#Spotify
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