#WAIT. damnation leon.

[wherenymphsroam]

leon actually has like …. breeder balls. it’s actually so bad. they’re probably so warm n big and hang so pretty. just makes you wanna nuzzle your face into him, mouth at him idly.

and I say that in like … a non sexual context.

(cw: implied ddlg, reader with an oral fixation)

you just love him so much, you trust him so much. sometimes even just the sound of his voice has you melting into a puddle against him. he’s noticed it, it’s hard not to. but he’s not about to point out your… mouthy habits.

in all honesty, he finds it adorable. how needy you get for him, in the most mundane of situations. go ahead, tug at his jeans when you curl up on the couch to watch a movie. get on your knees under his desk on the rare occasion he uses his home office. he’ll acknowledge you with a stroke of his fingers through your hair and a hum of contentment when your mouth finds his bulge through his boxers. he’ll even help you tug his jeans down, maybe just enough to get at the warmth of his crotch, about mid thigh.

really, he should get hard every time you surprise him with a tap of his thigh or a tug at his belt. but at his age, he didn’t feel the need to be hard, to find your greed overtly sexual.

sure, he’ll press your thighs to your chest and fuck you into the mattress later that night, but this … it’s different. the effect he has on you — the fog that clouds your brain when you lap at his soft cock, the weight of your lashes fluttering, the slur to your speech when he talks to you like that — it’s not something sexual, more often than not. you’re just … safe. he make you feel safe, and he loves that.

however.

on the off chance you do end up getting a lil drunk on him, drool coating your chin, lashes fluttering so sweetly… maybe his dick will twitch in interest. you’re so pretty, almost nauseatingly so. it really does make his head spin sometimes, thinking about how the hell he ended up with such a pretty baby attached to his hip. but to see you so eager, so greedy for him and him alone …. so much so that you’re pushing his fingers past your lips at a moments notice, whining for him to slide his sweats down …

sometimes, he thinks you just might be the death of him.

[writingwisterias]

Each Era of Leon and their first date with you

WARNINGS: Fluff, Fem!Reader

RE2,RE4R, Damnation, Infinite Darkness, Vendetta, RE6, Death Island

(not proof read was bored at my dads and did this quickly lmao)

RE2:

Leon sighed as he looked at himself in the mirror for the 100th time, his keys jingling as he pocketed them.

He swore his heart was going to explode with how fast it was beating, the idea of a first date still seemed stranger after everything he had been through.

His fist shook as he knocked on the door to your house, the stained glass window was decorated with flowers. The walkway lined with small flowers was the perfect family home, something he again assumed would be something to give away after he signed his life away to the government.

Your outfit was different from what you wore at the office, your frame decorated in a soft flowery dress, "Hey, you look nice" you spoke sweetly the door shutting behind you.

He couldn't stop the blush that lingered on his cheeks, the smile that grew impossibly wide as he linked his arm with yours. It felt nice; the weight of your arm in his...it felt right. "So do you" he stuttered out, cringing at the shakiness of his voice.

Once he finally settled in the restaurant, his nervous chatter reduced. You smiled as he talked enthusiastically about your interests, offering pointers and tips on how to help with the garden. Even offering his own help to you.

He somehow stumbled his way through the date for you to offer him a second one, departing the night with a simple kiss on his growing red cheeks.

RE4R:

After everything he's been through, he fought hard with himself to hold the slight shake in his hands.

Checking himself over briefly before going out, his outfit was casual but practical. A new warm jacket draped over his form since he lost his other one in Spain.

His knock is firmer, he's hand tucked in his pockets as he waits for you to leave your house. Not looking at the door, only looking at his feet.

It's only when he sees you his breath falters, your hair curled nicely falling across your shoulders, your dress showing off your form perfectly. "wow" is all he managed to get out, his smile growing at the dust of pink that showed up.

He's cracking jokes the entire evening, small puns here and there as he checks the menu for what he wants.

Pays for the whole thing, maybe would let you pay for the tip.

You already knew he was in for a second date..he didn't even need to ask

Infinite Darkness:

Most relaxed out of all of them, he was confident he looked good, opting for a shirt and jeans. His trusty leather jacket thrown over his shoulders.

He's looking at the door when he knocks, his body is still stiff but there's no obvious signs of being nervous

Smiling before you even made eye contact, hand on your waist as he leads you away.

Opting for a more low-key casual date in case he gets called away on a mission so he takes you to a coffee shop.

Paying for everything again, I'm sure he has so much money and no one to spoil.

But more touchy than the other ones, hands on your lower back as he guides you to a table, small touches of his fingers as he walks next to you.

If he's feeling bold enough he would kiss you, his hand weaving in your hair as he brings you closer.

Damnation:

Despite his grumpier tone during this film and his drinking habits in full force. He would try and do everything in his power to show up sober and not hungover.

This would mean he's slightly more nervous, not just because of the lack of sleep since he didn't drink the night before but also because it's first time he's been open with someone like this for a while.

Would be the easiest person to deal with at the start of the night, very closed off when he picks you up. However he does manage to compliment you though, his cheeks blushing when you return the favour

His humor is dry having lost the will to keep going it became more depressing but you didn't seem to mind. He instead started to view you as a light in the darkness.

So much so that he doesn't want the night to end. Dragging it out by going on a walk buying hot drinks and enjoying the simple conversations.

This is when his guard slips and you see past the tuff exterior he built to survive the harsh world.

His kiss at the end of the night is simple, but leave an impression on you along with a promise for more

Vendetta:

We all know he's the most depressed out of all the eras, so he wouldn't really care too much in his appearance. He's just shocked you even took enough interest.

I imagine it's more after the events of the movie where he's slightly on the brighter side.

He wouldn't talk about his job, using the date as an excuse to get away from it.

Very touchy, probably the only time he's realized how touched starved he actually is.

Drinking, he would probably try to avoid it during the night. He doesn't want to give you the wrong idea but towards the end he eventually gives in..not quiet content enough to go sober.

His kiss is sloppy but meaningful; a lot of his unspoken feelings about you given in the last moment with the kiss..leaves you begging for more.

You feel like you still don't really know him but know him enough to want to go for a second date

RE6:

Defiantly had a drink before he left, his outfit is scruffy and doesn't put too much thought into it. At least he put aftershave on though!

His knock on the door is firm and confident, smiling instantly when he sees you and almost escorts you to the car.

Opted for a nice restaurant making sure he booked a booth so he could have this moment without other people looking at him and you.

His conversations are mainly about your interests again, dealing out a couple of his own hobbies without giving away a lot of what he does...not fully trusting you to handle that information yet.

Keeps his drinking to the minimum, wanting to actually remember the events.

Drives you home but you stay in the car a bit longer, the conversation seemingly flowing a lot easier in this situation.

Kisses you passionately again, cradling your face as he does it.

DEATH ISLAND:

He's more nervous this time around, putting in more thought into his clothing..scolding himself for being so nervous.

Sober when he picks you up and during the entire date.

Is the most open with you off the bat about his interests but is still blunt with his job.

Picks you up on his bike but tells you before hand so you can dress appropriately.

Smiling the entire time he's driving you to the location, he loves how your hands tighten around him as he goes faster. The feeling of you pressed so closely to him

His heart melts when you exclaim how much fun it is!

Very big on touching, but always asking permission before he does.

Kisses you after you get off the bike, not driving away until he sees you have gotten in the house safe.

[leonw4nter]

Through Thick and Thin, Always and Forever

Husband!Damnation!Leon x F!Reader

No one is spared from that stupid blond baby and his arrows, not even two seasoned agents who are were certain that their hearts would never learn to feel something other than guilt, fear, and hopelessness.

After 5 years of dating and now 17 years married, your marriage with him has faced its ups and downs but you two always managed to make amends and continue on smoothly. Lately, it’s been more of a down: minimal talking, less intimacy, and Leon in worse moods. After a particularly big fight regarding his alcohol consumption and the distance he’s been keeping from you, you two refused to talk to each other. The most you two did in interaction with each other is telling each other “good night” before turning to the other side of the bed, backs turned and “good morning” without meeting gazes. Although things between you too are a little cold and tense, you two still held respect for each other and didn’t do anything that meant to harm the other.

You got up earlier than Leon, your husband still sleeping soundly from his side of the bed; eyes still shut, strands of dark hair that fell over his forehead with his arms crossed and small snores leaving slightly chapped lips. You drank in the vulnerable sight of him, sighing and wistfully hoping that things would go back to normal between you two again. After fixing your side of the bed, you head over to the kitchen to start on breakfast. Taking out the left-overs from last night’s takeout from the fridge, you take a pan and add a small amount of oil before putting it on the stove. You decided to opt for reheating using a pan and stove instead of the readily available microwave since you were feeling a little more diligent than usual. While cooking, you realize that the non-stick coating of the pan you’re using is peeling away. There’s some bits of food sticking to the part of the pan that is bare, those bits burning up. The handle is also a lot more loose, the pan being older than 4 years. I’m going to have to look for a new pan I guess, you think to yourself. After a few more minutes of reheating, you plate the food and place them on the dining table.

“G’morning.”

“God you scared me.” You reply with a small jolt of electricity flowing through your body. You place the plates down, Leon getting up to help you with the others. Instantly, your day gets better now that Leon is doing things like these but you don’t push your luck, knowing that Leon is still a helpful guy no matter what and this could be him being friendly but still upset at you.

He waits for you to take a seat before he takes his, scooping some food onto his plate before he takes a bite. You two have breakfast in silence, him reading some article on his phone while you go looking through Amazon for new non-stick pans. Unfortunately for you, you don’t find any pan that looks good so you put your phone down with a small sigh. Breakfast ends silently with Leon doing the dishes and you sweeping around the house. This time, Leon is speaking up more but he’s still closed off but you’re happy that he’s begun to be a lot warmer to you. You thought about going out to buy the pan but your laziness said no, causing you to opt to stay inside and be curled up with a good book.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

I should’ve bought that damn pan yesterday.

Unfortunately for you, your period started today which meant cramps that you swore was just your uterus doing crazy acrobatics. Of course you were extra cranky, all your emotions upped a notch by a hundred but a tiny part of you was thankful for this because Leon began to warm up more. Just this morning, he offered to change the sheets and wash the old one when you bled into it; it’s as if you two had never fought days prior but you aren’t complaining. Now, you are curled up and buried beneath the sheets while clutching at your lower abdomen while waiting for Leon to come back home. You had sent him on an errand to go get you cheese fries and boba tea which should only take him 15 minutes max but he took a little longer than that. You poke your arm out of the sheets, feeling around for your phone before you finally feel it and drag your arm back inside the sheets. You look for Leon’s number, phoning him to hurry up and get home because you needed his company more than anything.

“Leooonn…” You weakly groan.

“Hm? Yes, sweetheart?” He asks on the other end of the line.

“Got me my food?” You quietly ask.

“Yeah. I’m on my way home, just stuck in traffic. I promise I’ll get there soon baby, hang on,” He responds.

“Okay… I’ll hang up now, the screen is giving me a migraine.”

You press the ‘end call’ button, groaning even louder now that you feel a migraine incoming. Can this day get worse?

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

Leon finally arrives home with the fries and boba tea but he makes you drink water and take Advil before you have your snacks, hoping to alleviate the migraine you have going on. He also got a heating pad to help with cramps and offered to give you leg massages since your cramps caused spasms in your thighs as well. After giving you messages and looking after you, he slipped out of the bedroom to go show you something. He comes back with a pan, a non-stick one too.

“Baby is that…” You softly whisper, vision getting blurry with the tears in your eyes.

“Yeah. I saw you going through pans on Amazon so I thought I’d pick one up for you instead,” He explains. He goes on to explain his shopping process, going through the nitty gritty of the features of the cookware.

“The salesman told me that it’s made of stone too so it doesn’t retain strong odors like fish and is oven-safe. You’ll have crispy edges and browned crusts too– honey, are you crying?”

You take a big gulp of the boba before setting it down, wiping your tears with the sleeve of your sweater. Hormones were everywhere, your emotions are a mess, you’re going to be bleeding for the next 5 days and here is your husband: an absolute sweetheart, the only man there is for you. You walk over to him and wrap your arms around his neck, hugging him tight while trying to keep the tears down.

“Thanks, honey. I appreciate it. A lot. Tons, even.” You softly mumble. He brings a hand to the small of your back, giving you small pats as well. You feel a content rumble from his chest, smiling because you know that your fight is now a thing of the past.

“Anything for my girl,” he responds. “Name it and I’ll get it for you.”

“What if I want cuddles right now?” “Your wish is my command,” he agrees. With a pleased smile, he wraps you in a fuzzy blanket before laying at your side and hugging you like you’re a teddy bear. Well, he’s your teddy bear but today you don’t mind having the roles reversed.

NOTE - Today's fic is a little short because I am (1) tired and (2) not having a nice time rn!!! Yeyy!!! It's Valentine's Day today (as of writing) and not to sound like a salty person but everyone getting gifts from either their partner or friends made me feel a lot more alone 😭😭 Like a relationship is not what I'm looking for right now but it won't hurt to yk- receive something, even if it's just chocolate or candy. Anyways, I hope your Valentine's Day went great and if you confessed then I hope your feelings were reciprocated and if not then it's not the end of the world yk, you'll find the right one in the right time <3 Tysmm for reading my fics and I <3333 UUUUUUU (also this fic is inspired by that one reddit story)

[willownwisp]

ree's leon valentine's day advent <3

hi everyone. <3 as the leon kennedy fluff truther, i'm making an advent for valentine's day because pookie deserves so much love! everyday, i'll be posting a fic ranging from nsfw/sfw fluff for babu leon, i'll be putting out the scenarios and snippets below if y'all are interested. author's note: i've been meaning to put this out like a week ago when i finally figured out the problem w my account as to why tumblr wasn't letting me reply to comments :( but sadly, college got me so head empty. anyway, i've already got 2 days worth of fics already finished so i hope y'all can give me a read. <3

FEBRUARY 8 𖹭 nice legs, daisy dukes. (vendetta!leon x fem!reader) Leon feels like a creep, fuck that. He definitely looks like a creep. Thirty-six year old in all of his 5'11 glory standing outside his girlfriend's college leant against his Ducati like a dick, carrying a box of those, instagrammable pastries you always like to look at. It doesn't hurt to be sweet. Not when you walk — run, at the sight of him in your preppy mini dress, highlighting those long, long legs. Nothing is sweeter, especially when it's wrapped around him.

FEBRUARY 9 𖹭 starry skies, blue eyes. (re4r!leon x fem!reader) Stars dot stygian skies, the night is young, the moon is high. Leon's heart soars with your every laughter. The way your eyes close and your nose scrunches. God he was so in love with you, he could forgive the fact that the tent should have been up hours ago before night. You swear you remember your knots from your wide-eyed Girl Scout days, and he swears these silly moments with you are what makes life bearable.

FEBRUARY 10 𖹭 cold woes. (re4r!leon x fem!reader) Leon S. Kennedy. The apple of his instructors' eyes (and yours), he's a top graduate in the Police Academy for fuck's sake. He's decimated hordes of zombies in his first day as a rookie cop. Endured military training in the middle of nowhere, he's saved the President's daughter. He doesn't get sick. Only that he does catch a cold at the expense of prioritizing you, his clumsy girlfriend, who forgot to wear a jacket on a camping trip, offering his warm clothes to you. He doesn't regret it, he likes taking care of you, but there's something adorable about your sheepish apologies as you wait on him. He could get used to being babied. FEBRUARY 11 𖹭 love on me. (di!leon x fem!reader) As much as Leon loves the sun, the beaches, the tropics. Oh what he would give to become a beach bum in his next life instead of being smacked by bioweapons day in, night out, and being a good bitch to good ol' U.S of A. Unfortunately, after the events of Alcatraz, maybe he's had enough of the sea for now. He gives himself a pat on the back, takes out a chunk of his savings to go to Japan because you've been eyeing it. You said you were interested in the food, culture, and sights. So why in the world were you dragging him to a love hotel? FEBRUARY 12 𖹭 fill up your cup. (re6!leon x fem!reader) He feels himself spiraling recently, turning to the bottle because a glass is never troubled by his woes. He breaks them of course, can't help it, seems like his life is doomed to him breaking in the end. Fragments of glass scatters on the floor, vodka spills on the floor splashes it around like his grief because his body can only take so much. You arrive as he tries to pick them up, attempts to pick himself up. You whisper assurance, he doesn't deserve it. The way you look at him ardently, the gentleness that is your existence. You empty out his pain, and fill it with love. FEBRUARY 13 𖹭 the thrill, the love. (damnation!leon x fem!reader) He wills his old Yamaha to go faster. Your dainty arms clinging to him, the softness of your touch as his speed breaks the sound barrier. What started as mere curiosity turns into rituals. Secrets that only the both of you know. He knocks on your door at midnight, drives you around town. He scolds you every time your arm breaks free, throwing them to the wind. You don't care, you love the thrill, you love him. Leon admits that there is something alluring to the thrill of the chase. Perhaps that's why he's spent his years chasing Ada, but with you it was different. FEBRUARY 14 𖹭 kiss it better. (di!leon x fem!reader) Leon is a man full of stories, his pain, his peace, his fears, his needs. There is more to him than just being a formidable weapon against bioterrorism. He never was a weapon, just a flesh and blood human, and in his mortality there are scars. Deep within him, and littered in his skin. You kiss the faded slash on his hand, he tells you how he'd got it from when Ashley Graham had tried to stab him under the influence of the plaga. You kiss it again, and what he doesn't tell you is the wave of warmth that washes his entire being, it tugs on his very soul. You kiss the scars because it's there, because it's him, and in his reverie, he thinks you truly are his person.

[postersofleon]

the different leons way of looking at your face during sex

notes: no minors. implied that reader is afab but not super. happy holidays

re2 remake leon: leon has your body bend like a pretzel. your legs above your head, you were wheezing weakly as he pumped himself over and over inside your warmth. he liked your small facial reactions so much. the way your lip trembled, your eyes closed as you cried for a release. many people underestimate leon for his neediness, and assumed he was a sub. but he was a switch. his cock went in and out, "please, please-" leon was begging for a release as well. he need to fill you up so badly it was embarrassing. you felt so good. he drooled a bit, he bit his tongue. "c'mon, need you." he needs to cum in you or he will die.

re4 remake: unlike his younger self, he refuses to completely put in that same position to see your face. he holds you tightly as he kisses your body over and over. he fucks from the back and forces you to look at him. "there you go." he quietly praises you. his hand is gently holding your chin, his eyes are focused on your eyes. "you like it?" he smiled before kissing your cheek. he loves the comfort of sex. it's the only way to feel vulnerable. his thrusts are slow and patient. when he notices you are close he pulls out and cums on your stomach.

infinite darkness: he likes cockwarming. he sits annoyed at work while you sit on his lap, taking him in like the angel you were. he sighed softly when you were twitching and whining. you asked cockwarm him, and now you are begging for him to move. he gently cups your face, "shh, i know." he kisses your face, and his eyes shine bright at your face. "you need to wait. can you wait?"

damnation/re6: he sits on the couch as you suck his dick. he fully lacks the energy to do more. he feels guilty as hell. he is always working, so he barely even properly sees you. but it feels nice to see you on your knees. your tongue gently licks his cum, leon nods his head absent minded. he doesn't want to forget how you look. you gently sucked the tip and leon groans weakly. he doesn't care where he cums he just wants it anywhere.

vendetta: he wants to see bounce on his dick. he wants to see your face. he feels old so he wants to make sure everything is fine. he lays on the bed as you roll your hip, pushing him deeper. "yeah," he had a shitty grin as you cry for him, "no one but me, huh?" he pushes his hair back to look at you, "no one but me." he loves the attention. he wishes to just disappear after fucking you because what's better than this. when he is about to cum, he pulls out. "can you clean me up?" he whispered softly.

death island: he now grabs your hips and controls the pace. both of you sitting and leon with the control. leon grunts weakly, "nice and easy." he whispers softly. he kisses you tenderly and lovingly. he kisses your neck. he pulls away when your moans increase. he grins at your cute face. "see? you love it." he grabs your ass and rolls your hips around. he loves to see you gasping for air. he kisses you to suck away the whines. he doesn't pull out or nothing. he needs to see the good job he did in you.

[sincerelymina]

shades of cool

content ꒰ 4.0k ꒱ damnation leon x female reader.  unrequited love.  slight age difference if ya nasty.  hard angst.  hurt/no comfort.  mild smut (p in v).  very very toxic behavior from leon.  you just want to be loved.  leon couldn't care less—but there's a catch. he says the thing !! could also be interchangeable with vendetta leon. not proofread. author's note shoutout to @vaaaaaiolet for the endless support & help !! be sure to check her stuff out as well, they're a godsend. i listened to a weird mix of lana del rey and jeff buckley while writing this, so do with that what you will. reblogs & comments are highly appreciated !! ꣑ৎ

moonlight pours in through the curtains, casting a soft glow in the embrace of your bedroom. every night slowly began to feel longer than the last, sleep eluding you despite the exhaustion that lingered in your bones. you lay there, staring up at the ceiling, the weight of leon's absence pressing heavily onto your chest. nine days of unrelenting radio silence. 

you missed the comfort of his presence, the rough kisses he'd leave on your soft lips, the sweet nothings he'd coo into your ears as he thrusted in & out of you like his life depended upon it. 

the darkness whispers into the tiny room, enticing your doubts and fears, weaving them into the delicate fabric of your thoughts. maybe he ran into ada. despite the sour taste the theory left behind, it made sense, much to your dismay. 

you had nothing on her. how could a tough agent, known to be quick on her feet, be so naïve to think that leon truly was over the woman in red—did you seriously think he was in love with you now? it was pitiful by all means. 

whatever you had going on with the man, it was anything but love. sure, you might've been so utterly transfixed by the man, enough to the point where you always at his beck and call. but he surely didn't feel as strongly towards you. you were just easy, so pliable in his calloused hands. leon was a cruel, broken man that simply took what he wanted and left you with nothing.

yet still, you'd be waiting for him with open arms—and legs.

you were like a moth, irresistibly drawn to a flame that would eventually burn you. a light that you'd always come crawling back to, even if it singed your wings.

rain pelted against your window, bathing the room in a comfortable silence, spare for the pitter-patter upon glass. it does little to quell the hollow beating of your heart, the racing thoughts in your restless mind. this week had been full of one too many sleepless nights. you just wanted to finally succumb to your exhaustion, pretend leon didn't exist just for a few hours.

but you were too damn weak. such a slave for his attention, for his "love." you'd do just about anything for the older man's approval. everything about your self-worth was based upon those icy blues. not even the desire to sleep could surpass the desperation for him. 

leon's shoulders sagged as fatigue coursed through his blood, hot and heavy. rain splatters against the bottoms of his dark blue jeans, his motorcycle coming to a halt in front of your apartment complex. with a smooth twist of the throttle and a gentle squeeze of the brakes, the tires skid against the gravel, followed by the rumble of the engine fading into a soft purr. 

his brown hair was sodden with water droplets, the strands sticking to his forehead. a sharp sigh left the expanse of his lungs as he swung his leg over the seat and dismounted from his bike. just his luck, leon thought with a grimace, that a storm hit mid-ride.

as he walked through the lobby, heading straight for the elevator, leon silently wondered what the hell he was doing. a part of him felt unbelievably guilty for taking advantage of your feelings like this, always expecting you to allow him into your place, even on a whim like this. especially after not bothering to send a single text to you for well over a week.

the pad of his thumb pushes the button, the elevator doors splitting open. leon pushes any feelings of shame to the far back of his mind, focusing on the main task at hand—sex. that's all this was to him after all. he couldn't be bothered with commitment. 

years of slaving away for the government had etched a weariness into his bones, leaving him a hollow shell of who he once was. one whose heart, that once yearned for love—similar, if not identical, to the kind you felt for him—now laid dormant beneath a shroud of emotional detachment. 

that kept the guilt that wrapped around his heart at bay, a poor excuse for how he treated you.

a few moments pass before the elevator's doors slide open with a soft hum. leon steps out, finding his way to your place as if it were second nature, which at this point, it was safe to say it was. his muscles memorized the entire way, every twist and turn. soon enough, he was right at your doorstep, anticipation thrumming in his veins.

a knock against the front door shattered the silence that encased your apartment, the sound of someone's fist rapping against the wood rippling through the quiet atmosphere. it causes you to jerk upwards, afraid of who might be waiting at the door at two in the fucking morning. it couldn't be leon, he was the last person you expected—then again, him showing up on a whim wasn't a foreign notion between the two of you. 

expecting the worst, you kick the comforter off your body, allowing it to cascade to the ground as you carefully step outside your bedroom. swiping your handgun off the kitchen counter—because of course, you'd carelessly left it there—you then pad down the threshold, one foot in front of the other.

the sound of shuffling on the other side of the door isn't lost on leon, to which he furrowed his brows, wondering why you were taking your sweet time heading towards it. "it's me," he says gruffly, the deep baritone reverberating off of the hallway's walls. 

you could recognize that voice from a mile away, unfortunately. your heart thumped in the confines of your chest, beating erratically at the knowledge of who was behind that door. you swallow hard, hand hovering over the cool metal of the knob before turning it slowly, revealing the man you had been longing to see.

remnants of the pouring rain outside glistened on his worn leather jacket as leon stood stiffly in the doorway, with a sullen yet exhausted expression sewn between his features. droplets clung to his hair, tracing rivulets down his face like tears mingling with the dark circles beneath his eyes. icy blues pierce through your own. he was so gorgeous, it physically pained you.

he was actually here, at your doorstep, in the flesh.

a puzzled look finds its way onto your face, mingling with the tiredness in your eyes. in disbelief, you mutter, "leon?"

"can i come in?" leon asks, not giving you any context as to why he just showed up after days of no communication. his eyes rake over you, taking in your appearance—tousled hair, thin tank top and shorts, sluggish demeanor. you looked so pretty in the dim light.

"it's two am." you say matter-of-factly, eyes now glued to the floor. 

his jaw clenches, biting his tongue to hold back a snarky remark you didn't deserve. hell, you should've just slammed the door on his face, without a single word, and he would have no right to be angry at you about it.

so, leon resorts to simply inquiring, "is that a no?"

"not exactly," your voice was subdued, weak. should you let him inside? you mull over the thought, letting it ripple through your mind, like a pebble dropped in a pond. despite your better judgment, you step aside, letting him walk past you and into your humble abode. he mutters a quiet thanks as he shrugs his jacket off.

the living room held its breath along with the two of you, the air thick with unspoken words. the silence stretched like a taut wire, vibrating with the weight of your incessant thoughts. with a heavy sigh, leon collapsed onto the couch, sinking into the soft cushions. you hate how he's acting as if everything between the two of you was normal, like he hadn't been deliberately ignoring you for days.

"so…" you break the stillness, unable to take it anymore. "are you just going to pretend everything is okay, like you haven't been ignoring every single one of my calls?" despite how fragile you sounded, your misery was clear as day. 

"here we go," leon grumbles to himself, still audible enough for you to hear. "listen, i was busy, okay?" his tone goes shifted from quiet to frustrated, refusing to look you in the eyes as you tentatively stood a few feet away from him.

bitterly, he adds, "and i'm not obligated to. i'm not your little boyfriend. how many times do i have to remind you?" sure, it might've been common courtesy, but leon was stretched thin tonight, leaving you demurred and him unbothered. 

"i'm sorry," you sigh pathetically, feeling helpless. 

but instead of easing his nerves, your apology only further agitates him, "oh, now you're gonna go all pouty baby on me? give me a break." leon hisses, each word a stab to the heart. "jesus, you're hopeless." his eyes meet yours again, only this time with displeasure glimmering solemnly.

desperate for a shred of salvation, you clung to what little self respect you had left in your bones, determined to salvage any dignity you still possessed after all this. 

your brows knit in frustration, retorting back just as harshly, "you're the one who keeps showing up at ungodly hours, always expecting me to bend to your fucking will. you never call, never text, unless i do first, yet always expect me to welcome you in." 

your fists clench, fingernails digging crescents into your palms. you couldn't stand it anymore, being his bitch, always so compliant, so understanding of his random bursts of insensitivity. you could just tell that deep down, he knew this meant more to you, giving him all the more reason to keep coming back—it didn't help that you were really pretty too. he was blatantly taking advantage of your love, and with zero remorse at that, as the cherry on top.

leon groans in pure frustration, eyes fluttering shut, as his head tilted backwards, "i'm too fucking tired for this shit." brown locks of hair partially obscure the side of his face, a perfect silhouette of his side profile on display—he was infuriatingly handsome. he stood up, fixing you a look that could slice through stone. 

"i don't ever see you slamming the door in my face. you let me in like it's the one thing you're good at. always so fucking desperate to please someone who couldn't care less about you." 

the words are crueler than he wished they'd be, regret instantly hitting him like a pile of bricks. he could say he didn't mean that all he wants, but the words flowed so seamlessly, without a single stutter or falter. it was plain as day that this was how he truly felt—the raw, unequivocal truth. once spoken, undeniably irrevocable. and you both knew this.

and it stung, like a hard slap across the face. you would've preferred for him to do that; at least the pain would've withered away far quicker than the mental anguish you were left with now. even in his fit of rage, the defeated, wide-eyed expression you donned tugged at leon's heartstrings. 

uncomfortable silence lingers in the air like bad perfume. "don't look at me like that," leon mumbles softly. this wasn't how the script was supposed to unfold. you finally proved that you had some pride left in you, but he was so quick to shoot you down. everything had unraveled in the worst way possible.

his voice soft and gentle now, abandoning its previous ire. leon's mood always flipped like a light switch, annoyingly so. 

"i'm sorry, doll." apologizing felt like pulling teeth, and to his dismay, it was falling upon deaf ears. leon wasn't cruel, just unbelievably damaged. and unfortunately, you happened to be the best outlet to release that misery onto. it wasn't an excuse for how awfully he treated you, but rather an explanation. 

if you had half a mind you would've ended this charade long before it got to this level—for you, at least. things only seemed to be getting worse, and it was becoming more obvious that this was just a game to leon, while you were smitten. 

"forget it, leon, you should just go." you say lowly. 

"don't be like that." leon didn't want this trip to be a waste. "it's not my fault you're emotionally invested. i thought we made it crystal clear from the start that this wouldn't mean anything. zero commitment, zero obligations." a beat of silence passes, before he adds, "listen, if this is going to be a problem, we should stop this. now." 

he could always find another girl to suit his needs. one that wouldn't cling to his leg like a lonesome child.

"i don't get it," you mumble, eyes finally meeting his. tears dew your lashline, but you wouldn't dare cry in front of him. "it's obvious that you've known for a while that i have feelings for you…" the realization finally creeps in like a cold draft through a cracked window. "you're using me?"

"using you?' he muses, cocking an eyebrow in confusion. leon has to fight the urge to roll his eyes. "you women and your emotions." he chides. "how many times is it gonna take for you to get it through that pretty little head of yours? this never meant anything to me. it never will." 

you bite the corner of your lip, pressing down hard, but not enough to bleed. you stood there, shoulders hunched and eyes downcast, the cruel words washing over you like vehement waves, trembling hands fumbling with the hem of your shorts, as if seeking refuge from the storm of anger. no had ever made you feel this insignificant before.

leon's lips part slightly, suddenly becoming acutely aware of something you'd rather he didn't figure out. "...you thought i was going to eventually fall for you, didn't you? jesus, i didn't think you were that naïve." he laughs—the first smile he cracked tonight was at your misery. "i almost feel bad."

mr. i'm sorry. mr. i didn't mean that. mr. i'm just tired.

fighting back tears, you hiss, "just leave."

you could slap the smug look right off his face, the air of superiority that clung to him like heavy cologne being enough to piss you off. leon was well aware of the chokehold he held you in—he reaped the benefits of your feelings at every given chance. it felt good having a girl like you always at an arm's reach, spare for the times you'd get all "emotional" and "clingy" on him. 

leon thinks about leaving, the mere idea pissing him off beyond belief—he rode all this way, in the pouring rain no less, just to make you feel like a piece of shit. no kisses, no sex, not even a single touch. deep down, he hated the reflection of his own bitterness that he spewed towards you. he hated how easily his words hurt you, how easily they spilled out of his mouth. this wasn't who he was, or at least, who he once was. after all, you were just a sweet girl who was irrevocably in love with him. 

"fine," he ceases, concealing the anger he felt at his core—you didn't deserve anymore than what you'd already been cursed with tonight. 

pathetically, you watch as he tugs his leather jacket back on, sliding his arms through the sleeves quickly. you feel the urge to apologize bubbling up to the surface, but for what? you hadn't done anything wrong, simply stood your ground, defended what dignity you had left. he doesn't mean any of it, your mind feeds you lies, he's just hurt cut him some slack. 

leon's hand lingers on the doorknob for a second too long, hesitating his next move. your eyes narrow in confusion. cautiously, you take a few steps towards him, each one feeling like a march to the executioner's chopping block. 

"fuck it," leon huffs, hand abandoning the cool metal, and now seeking refuge on your hips, pulling you flush against him as his lips meet yours. this wasn't right, he wasn't thinking straight, clearly lost in a haze of frustration. but he couldn't help himself. you reciprocating the kiss didn't help his case either. 

a soft, content hum left your lips as his mesh onto yours so seamlessly. it's anything but sweet and delicate, rather laced with hunger and raw unadulterated lust. his rough hands smooth up your stomach, your thin tank top riding up in their wake. you can feel the desperation oozing off of his lips, from the way his tongue pushes past the crack of your own lips.

you're like putty in his hands, forgetting all the spiteful things he'd just said to you, only focusing on how good this felt. he inadvertently called you his bitch—any sane person would've happily shoved him out the door, but here you were, melting into his unprompted kiss. the things you do for love.

lips still smothering yours, he mumbles, "this a good enough apology for you, doll?" his breath fans against your skin, mingling with yours as he shoves you up against the nearest wall. 

"mhm," you're thinking with everything but your head, succumbing to the rush that coursed hotly through your veins. "i'm sorry," but leon shuts you up by plunging right back in. he knows you shouldn't have to apologize, but he doesn't care enough to tell you to give it a rest.

"such a sweet girl, always so understanding," he chuckles breathily. your lips were enough to calm his nerves. "i hate hurting you like this, but you just…" his tone grows solemn, but he pushes such thoughts to the back of his mind, focusing solely on making both of you feel good.

his words struck a chord in you. but you just… just what? you don't want to think too hard about it, that could be done in the morning, once your left all alone in a sea of white bedsheets. when the regret of surrendering to your self-indulgence had fully settled in.

sooner rather than later, you're sprawled out beneath leon, stripped down to nothing. a mix of both of your clothing are scattered across your bedroom floor, joining the rest of the pre-existing mess. your skin is slick with a thin layer of sweat, a testament to just how badly leon had you worked up. it's hard to muffle your breathy moans, to which he can only say:

"ah, come on. don't be shy." he teases, tilting his head while placing a sloppy kiss on your rosy lips. a sharp thrust is what finally draws out a loud moan from your lips, his cock buried deep inside your sopping cunt, "that's my girl."

calloused hands roam all over your soft skin, tracing your every curve, every dip, feeling you in your entirety. you hate how effortlessly he brought you to heaven, how you could feel every inch of him pumping in and out of you. seeing you like this, eyes fluttered shut and lips parted, reminded leon why he hadn't stopped seeing you yet. 

the room is bathed with the sounds of your choked moans and his grunts. his name falls off your lips like its your only prayer, coupled with a slew of desperate pleas. your hands grasp onto his back for support, nails digging crescents into the skin as they drag down, leaving scratches in their wake. 

his hips rolled against yours as his thrusts got messier and rougher, practically slamming in and out of you. your back arches against the memory foam of your mattress, an embarrassingly loud moan leaving your lips as you feel his tip kiss against your cervix. 

"fuck, leon, don't stop," your nails dig even deeper into his skin. 

"wasn't planning on it," leon groans, feeling your velvety walls clamp around his cock. "god, you're so perfect," another wet kiss planted upon your open lips. it's a blessing the bed hadn't given in and snapped yet. 

you're seeing stars at this point, the coil in your stomach tightening with every thrust, pulled taut like violin strings. it's not until leon hits right there that your eyes snap open, glimmering with pleasure, earning a desperate mewl. a smirk plays on his lips. it was ironic how he could make you feel so awful, so miserable, but simultaneously brought you this. 

"oh, you like that, don't you?" he grunts, hitting that same spot repeatedly, determined to make you cum all over his cock. "yeah, i bet you do. pretty thing like you doesn't deserve any less," sweat drips down his forehead, his hair sticking to it. 

"i'm so close," you whimper, the mattress creaking beneath you. 

"i know you are," leon takes pride in the scrunched up look of pure ecstacy on your face, white hot pleasure shooting through his own veins. 

it only takes a few more thrusts before you cry out his name, mumbling a cluster of curses and pleas as you rode out your high. heaven was always a place on earth with leon—spare for the times the two of you weren't in bed. 

it doesn't take long for leon to finish as well, shooting his load on your stomach, not particularly in the mood for an unwanted pregnancy from a girl he barely cared about. completely out of breath, leon sighs, rolling over to the empty spot next to you on your bed. his back falls against the mattress, a million thoughts racing through his mind, all a vehement maelstrom of regret.

i should've left he thought, eyes flitting over to you, who seemed like she was still on cloud nine. guilt pangs in his heart, no longer left in a lust-filled haze. he can only stare up at the ceiling, almost in a similar manner to the way you did only an hour earlier. 

no one felt post-nut clarity like leon did.

you, on the other hand, felt like a million bucks. your chest rose and fell slowly, reeling back in after your orgasm. but nonetheless, leon's cruel words hit you like a freight train, coming back to you all at once in your state of bliss. the reality of your situation creeps in like a thief in the night. 

all you are is—for lack of better words—his bitch.

as the first light of dawn kisses the horizon, the sun rises gently, painting the sky with hues of gold and rose, awakening the world in a tender embrace. left in nothing but a flimsy pair of lacy panties, you stir around in bed, eyes fluttering open as you take in your surroundings. despite the lack of sleep you got the night prior, the mere sunlight still roused you awake.

and of course, just as you anticipated, there's an empty spot right next to you. just one morning you wished to have strong arms caging you in their embrace. but no.

as long as you kept this charade up with leon, this was all you'd get.

frantically, you swipe your phone off of your nightstand—maybe he sent you a text? disappointment etches onto your face as the pad of your thumb presses the power button, only to be met with a handful of notifications, not a single one from leon.

jesus, you were hopeless.

[citrine-elephant]

wait a fucking second.

resident evil damnation

"you're not dorothy are you?" or whatever the quote was leon said when he was being interogated

homosexual. bisexual. that man kisses dudes,

"are you a friend of dorothy" was code for "are you gay/queer" back in the day

leon s kennedy kisses dudes

[shadesoflsk]

Hi Ruby! Imagine going undercover with Leon and having to act like an established couple. I feel like that would be so funny, imagine having to take wedding photos and sleep in the same room together, etc. I feel like he would be totally open to being in a domesticated setting, especially if he had a cat.

(Me encanta tu escritura, Sigue escribiendo, espero que tengas un excelente día/noche!!! 🤍🫶🏽)

(I am deeply sorry for replying so late 😭😭 I've had so much work to do, and I barely had time to actually write something. Thank you so much for your words by the way! I get so happy when I receive compliments like these! También ten un lindo día corazón 😽😽)

gender neutral reader

Moving on, that idea sounds so interesting! There's something about fake dating that makes every writing a lot better and now you ask me about fake MARRIAGE? Straight up my thing I'll eat this whole as if it were my last meal.

So, I don't know why but as soon as I read your ask and registered your words I immediately thought about Damnation Leon… Like I see that man and he's just so fake marriage coded, type of I'll put a ring on your finger but I'll act like I don't know you the second we get home.

So, let's imagine. You and Leon are sent to a mission in which you have to act as a married couple to infiltrate and steal information from a company.

The whole objective doesn't really matter when your agency provided you with the most realistic experience of being a married couple. A nice house, almost mirroring the perfect family. In front of others, Leon would take the role of a doting husband, holding doors open, taking your hand and showing off his perfect partner to 'everyone.' But as soon as you're indoors, he'd act like nothing happened.

I can't picture him being mean or grumpy, but he'd definitely act nonchalantly. What do you mean he complimented the way you did your hair? No, he did not do that. You're crazy.

And don't get me started on the rings. He'd proudly wear them, outside and inside your shared home. After a day on the job trying to retrieve the information and collecting clues, the ring stays on his finger even when both of you come to your house. Eventually, he doesn't take it off. You would find him absentmindedly fidgeting with his ring, playing with it while he waits for the food to heat up.

This little tradition continues with you placing your ring next to his when both of you go to sleep. And talking about having to share a room, well… he doesn’t dislike the idea of sharing a bed. The trope of there's just one bed but we have Leon internally screaming “Yes!” when he first realized.

Overall, I feel like it would be the perfect opportunity for Leon to indulge in domesticity, the one thing he's always sought. Having someone next to him each day is such a blessing for him, like a reminder that maybe he indeed has something else rather than the whole word to fight for.

And, I could definitely see Leon to continue “acting” like a husband, even when the mission was done. The house doesn't need to be sold, he'd tell you. In fact, maybe you both need a cat, a scruffy cat to be specific.

So, in the end, you ‘have to’ share your home with Leon and an adopted cat. Life works in mysterious ways.

[sheepispink]

A Pearl (1/2)

based on the song by mitski because i love mitski and hot traumatised men

Summary: Years of horrific memories still weigh down on him even as he promises to let you help him move on. All you want to do is help, but its not enough.

Part 2 Masterlist

tags: Leon Kennedy/Reader, Hurt/No comfort, Angst, fem! reader, mentions of re4 (no specific spoilers dw guys), mentions of ptsd, heart wrenching angst 😘

other notes: for clarification, the timeline goes— after the raccoon city incident, then he goes on the re4 mission, then it’s like the smaller missions like damnation etc. Towards the end and next chapter it’s basically vendetta. But theres no actual spoilers bcus tbh.. i haven’t watched any of the movies except id 💀

Ch1: Before it Ended

Like a dream is how you’d always describe it. His coworkers, your friends —anyone who had heard of his name— would come up to you, fawning over your pretty looks and lovely personality. They’d ask you every time, “How did it happen?” And always, you’d replay that memory in your head.

“It was winter,” You’d begin by recounting the snow that fell upon your face that day, the breeze that bristled your bones, and the way his hair looked frozen in place. You’d remember the laughter that bubbled in your throat when you saw that and how his lips curved ever so slightly for what you believe was the first time. Some of the soft strands of your hair had itched your skin; It was messy from having been shaken from the depths of sleep, and now your fingers tuck the rogue locks behind your ear. Eyes like a pretty lake, hair like wheat, with his random strands and dirty blonde roots you would soon learn to run your fingers through. He stood before you, only the dim porch light illuminating him on that winter night. “Why are you out so late?” You had asked him, your hand reaching forward to tug him into the warmth of your apartment. Little did you know that’d tug him into your life as well.

The refusal was clear; he shook his head, puffs of warm air escaping as he explained that he had something to tell you. His clothes were dirty, scratched in places, and his combat knife was only hastily put away—just work, he explains, desperate to leave a good impression on you. He had finished, and he was sure that now that he’d have time, he’d be free from the shackles of the years that would creep up on him. Cheeks flushed and Adam’s apple bobbing—you still aren’t sure whether the cold or a blush caused that. “I know I’m always gone, and we dont see each other as often anymore, but I swear- I’ve sorted everything out. I’ve fixed it.” He says his words rushed and mumbled, like his heart was spilling out then and there.“I know this is sudden- i know, but- i just.. Will you marry me?” He blurts out and every puff of air that leaves his mouth feels like another log added to the fire you didn’t know was built in your heart for him. A campfire, as you’d always describe it, is comforting and warm, the perfect reassurance in cold times. Perhaps you should’ve chosen something detrimental to life, but you preferred the romantic speech.

Everyone loved the tale as you did, enamoured with how you managed to get the stoic agent to fall head over heels with you. He’d walk over right then, slinging an arm around your waist, giving you a tender kiss to your cheek, and plastering a smirk on his lips. “Still telling everyone that story?” He’d tease as his fingertips gently rubbed your side, the silver band on his ring finger twinkling with the same light his wine glass did. “As usual.” You’d reply, that same bubble of happiness rising in your throat again as you tilted your head upwards, waiting for the small peck that always came.

Always.

A year would go by, and you’d been learning more and more about each other. Nothing seemed to be too big of a step for you. Opposing voices, loud huffs, doors slamming shut until the other would open it quietly, apologise, crawl into the warmth of their shared bed, and work things out with sweet reassurances. Work was tough; he was on more missions than ever, being considered one of the greatest men to serve your country. Warmth that you always described as adoration filled your heart whenever you heard that phrase; you couldn’t be more proud of him for it.

Besides, not even that could tear you down; nothing could break the delicate encasing that surrounded the pair of you. A greenhouse, you’d say, because it held all the things that grew only with a person’s own nurture and care. Like your relationship, crafted and melded by your kind words and your soft voice. It’s a shame greenhouses are made of glass.

Weekends were quieter now, something you had decided to take in stride; you decided to plan something nice for when he returned. The he anniversary he had missed too. It’s been so long since you’ve seen him now, resorting to spraying his cologne on the pillows in that cold bed to retrieve some imaginary warmth. Then it came—the day he’d return. Open arms is what you welcomed him with; he had always loved to hug you, and holding you close was a remedy for his mind, he’d say. But those words stopped forming after some time. You ushered him into the shared bed that night, your arms curling around him after the nice surprise you had set up earlier had gone well. Perfect, you had thought. The bed was still cold, though. You thought about bringing it up with him but decided against it; the warmth of his arms was enough for you.

You should’ve brought it up with him, for the time would have entered where he couldn’t handle it. He had awoken with a jolt, sweat trickling like beads down his temples. Eyes wide and chest pounding, he sat there with eyes darting for a threat and hands searching for yours. Your fingers would intertwine with his, warm against his cold palms, as you sat up beside him. It’d be over soon; thats what you promised— you’d do this together.

Nights like those started occurring more often than ever, until one day, he’s awoken with a sharp jolt again. His movements are much more frantic, his hands searching and searching.

Though, this time, it doesn’t find itself in yours.

It’s tightly wrapped around your neck, his mind screaming to murder you. Bloodshot eyes and prominent streaks of black down your arms— the horrors he had tried so desperately to push away— return to his mind. Your breath wont come. No sweet words, and he looks down to see his hand contaminated with that same murky colour. The sink of his chest feels like a knife as he sees your arm grab out at him, like they did everywhere he went. Those creatures who would grab him, claw at him, and still threatened to take his life. They had destroyed his mind instead.

But there is no mutant, no bloodshot eyes and no streaks on your skin. All he sees is what he’s done to you, his body weight pressing on you as his hand keeps a firm grip around your neck. Your mouth begs for air, denying the sweet reassurance he needed as he sees you turn pale, your eyes flickering with tears. There’s no threat in here; not even the cold breeze from the open window chills his bones. Nothing can hurt more than the desperation in your eyes as your hands claw—No—plead at him for relief. He immediately lets go, scrambling to the other end of the bed as he watches you pant, his heart filled with fear. Fear of himself. You quickly turn to him, mustering out your honeyed phrases through choked breaths. But they’re just letters dancing about, barely going near his ears in the walls he had built between the two of you. Ignorance is bliss, but he can’t break his gaze when he sees the deep streaks of scarlet he left on your neck. Frozen in regret and shame, you tentatively wrap your arms around him to comfort the pair of you. But he feels your tears on his neck; the fear you felt eats at his gut and his conscience. You had never felt so cold before.

The days he had left for missions were the worst nights of your life, you’d say, having been away from your heart for so long. But even as you see him drinking his morning coffee, those eye bags prominent, you think your heart might be buried in Spain, infected with the plagas of love that died out.

Unspoken was what had happened that night— a silent promise between the pair of you with small random affections to bandage up the wound he had inflicted. He was still going on the small missions, but they were shorter, and he was back to fill the bed every night. The flowers in the vase never died—a different shade, flower, or even scent every week. A different kind of love.

This continued for weeks, up until you were out with some friends, each talking about their love lives, which was always a topic between the three of you. One of them gushes about how their husband’s love language is gift-giving, describing each and every homemade affection they receive on the daily. Soon it gets around to your turn, and when you speak about his love language, physical touch comes to mind again. Whether it was playing with your hair, rubbing your hands as you walked in the cold, or leaning on you after hard days, he always wanted to be near you. Your mouth fails to respond; no words form yet no examples are recalled in your brain either. You laugh sheepishly, trying hard to wrack your head for something sweet he’s done, until you just laugh it off and talk about how you love him again.

The bed’s empty when you slip inside it; he hasn’t returned yet and he won’t be back for another hour or so. The ceiling accompanies you as you desperately try to remember an act of affection in the last few weeks. It’s only now that it finally hits you, like a tonne of bricks through your skull—

He’s been distancing himself from you.

Knowing that you get caught up in little things, he occupied your mind with flowers and sweet notes. Not once have you actually heard him say any of it or felt his touch, if not accidental. He sleeps at a distance at night, and even when you shuffle closer somehow, you wake up further apart than before. You havent had a meal with him in weeks and you haven’t actually heard that raspy voice you remember as he complains about his day. You cannot remember the last time you felt warmth, and you can’t remember when you last cried this hard.

You’re in the bathroom, wiping away the stray tears as you look at yourself in the mirror. A heavy ache that still scrapes against the walls of your heart, unsure if you feel better or worse after coming to terms with this. Every pump feels like it’s dragging you down instead of keeping you alive. The rush of blood is like-

The front door clicks open.

You almost freak out and you’re not even sure why you would. Why are you scared of this? Why are you suddenly scared of him? Your feet hurries you back to your shared bed, settling under the covers once more to try to play it off as just tiredness. You still can’t figure out why you’re doing all this or why you start to form excuses for your behaviour in your mind. He never does. So why would you? The footsteps draw closer; they’re just slightly heavy, much softer than when he wears his boots. You hear the bedroom door unclick and your shoulders tense with every second.

But you dont see him enter. Slow breathing and closed eyes— you’re even lying on your side as you pretend to be asleep.

————————————————————————

Leon breathes out a heavy sigh, his chest sinking to drain out all his exhaustion from today. There’s a rustle of clothing as he undresses, pulling on some random sweatpants and a spare shirt for the night. Why should he even care if its clean or not? He walks over to his side of the bed, rummaging around the bedside table for something. Then he pauses, his eyes catching onto something in his peripheral view. Tear stains?

You hear the creak on the bed as he leans half his weight on it, about to reach out to you. Your heart beats faster. Is it because you dont want to worry him with your tears, or are you afraid of him? You don’t know. His fingers brush your cheek ever so gently, his voice echoing out your name so, so softly.

“Hey.. you awake?” He asks, and even though your heart is melting into a little puddle so easily, some stubborn stick clogs your throat. His sigh fills the room again and he pulls the blanket over you, tucking it snugly over you before brushing the hair out of your face. Maybe he’s just tired these days, you think. He’s been through a lot after all; it explains all of it. Really, you shouldn’t have been so upset at all—his work and life are on an entirely different level for you.

You’re about to open your eyes, pretend you woke up, and give him a sleepy smile. Images of him giving you a tight hug and one hand rubbing the small of your back as he tells you to fall asleep again fills your mind.

Then he speaks again, the bed creaking as he steps back off of the bed, the warmth leaving as fast as it came. “She’s really knocked out.? Phew.. I do not want to deal with some stupid tears..” He mutters out, his raspy voice much lower and breathless—almost exasperated. A low groan leaves him as he dumps his work clothes somewhere. Then, the bed screams again as he lays his weight on it before he shuffles himself to the end of the bed. He looks back at the space between them, another huff of air leaving his lips.

“That’s good enough. I fucking hate being woken to push her away from me..” Eventually, his breathing evens out, and his shoulders are still tight and tense as his body relaxes into the bed. The night falls quieter, and your mind feels blank.

You don’t know when you fell asleep or if he saw your fresh tears when he woke that morning.

Next

[hor3nee]

wait how is he 175 cm? i thought he was 180 cm?

Leon is both.

Capcom characters don't have set heights. We know this because, 1. Capcom no longer adds heights to their character profiles. 2. Capcom constantly changes the motion capture actors/models. 3. There are multiple different media adaptations of the characters. (Leon)

In Leon's first-ever installment, Re2 (1998) his height is listed on his character profile: He is 178cm tall, aka 5'10ft tall.

The second installment of Leon was in Re4 (2005). So for some reason here it says he's 180cm tall, aka 5'11ft tall? I actually only recently learned about this lol. This information comes from the Re4 Digital Archives.

Damnation height chart also states he's 5'11ft tall / 180cm tall:

In Re6 (2012) Leon is given no (known) height. BECAUSE! We know in Re5 (2009), Chris & Wesker's heights were both changed & also their heights weren't included in their character profiles.~~ And every main game that came after Re5 (So Re6 - Re7 - Re8 - Re2r - Re3r - Re4r) do NOT include height in their character profiles.

And as previously stated post-Re5 none of the other mainline games give any canon heights to the characters, so in both Re2r (2019) and Re4r (2023) Leon is given NO canon height. HOWEVER!

Leon's motion-capture actor in both remakes (Re2r & Re4r) has been Nicholas Apostolides who is 175cm tall or 5'9ft tall. So whilst the motion-capture actor doesn't necessarily define a character's height, since we have no stated canon height of Remake Leon's height, we can assume/say in the Re2r & Re4r Leon is 175cm tall or 5'9ft tall.

SUMMING IT UP: PERSONALLY, I like to say Remake Leon is about 5'9 (175cm) and Og Leon is about 5'10-5'11 (178cm-180cm), and the movie Leon's are the same. Not that it matters he's a pixel who gives a shit call him 6'5 daddy build for all I care have fun.

[pink-strawberry-kissess]

Aeon couch sex?😦

Ada face down in the couch and Leon just🧨🧨🧨 or Leon just eating her out while she sits comfortably on the couch🤗

YES AEON COUCH SEX

the latter is quite tastyyy

i very much like the idea of ada in her heels still while perched on the couch with her ass in the air and just

my god i am gay

anyways 💅

okay but wait let's start with the latter first, telling him to be a good boy, a curl of her finger brings him to his knees and she takes her time just crossing her legs and letting him run his hands along her inner thighs. maybe just pushes her skirt she's wearing upwards and lets him pull her panties off from her legs.

he's about to help slip her heels off but she shakes her head and he doesn't. ada just non-verbally gestures towards herself, maybe humming in approval or disapproval whenever he doesn't follow her lead

just her legs over his shoulders while his face is buried between her legs, his tongue lapping at her core, taking his time savour the little moans that escape from her lips and the slight tremble of her thighs that she tries to hide, he gets to enjoy the pleasure he gets her as she writhes against him

she doesn't want it to be over like that though, she keeps him slow, lazy, edges herself so she's close - just to pull him away again, letting him press wet kisses at her folds and everywhere there

he feels her heels hit him from behind, it only reassures him that she's losing her composure >:)

he doesn't miss the tremble of her legs when she urges him upward to stand and she perches herself against the armrest of couch.

her swinging her hips, enticing leon to come closer hehehe >:) he doesn't even bother undressing entirely, just undoes his belt and dig himself O_O out of his jeans, his chest shuddering with a deep breath

pumps at himself a lil bit, his other hand pulling her skirt higher and exposing her ass (also i dunno i just thought about her damnation fit but she wears a lot of dresses ig)

she just keeps staring at him, her lips purse and an impatient look on her face.

he doesn't take much time before he places the head of his cock against her slit and ease his way inside. his hands gripping the sides of her hips and slowly sinking in until he's fully seated inside of her and gives her a few lazy thrusts.

one of them, although, not even that powerful, almost moves the couch and she lowly laughs but he's ready to start up a medium fast pace already so he just does that.

ada just teases him to go harder and faster, and he just grips her hip and her shoulder and has enough leverage to just 🧨🧨🧨🧨🧨🧨🧨🧨🧨

[multi-fandom-imagine]

A/n: I decided to write a song fic using this song using Damnation!Leon

He called her on the road,From a lonely cold hotel room.Just to hear her say "I love you" one more time.

Leon hated taking missions that were halfway across the country, he hated being away from you, being away from the kids. Wrinkling his nose he locked the door to the hotel room then sat on the edge of the bed. Cell phone in hand he dialed the familiar number waiting for you to pick up though a slight chuckle escaped his lips, the voice of his children laughing in the background, Leon quickly brushed a stand tear away.

But when he heard the sound.Of the kids laughin' in the background.He had to wipe away a tear from his eye.

The first voice he heard was is sons voice, he did his best to relax but the man wanted nothing more than to be home. “Daddy! When are you gonna come home?”

A little voice came on the phone.He said, "Daddy, when you coming home?"He said the first thing that came to his mind.

Closing his eyes, Leon felt a small smile form on his lips. He had to reassure his son, he had to let him know so he said the first thing that came to his mind.

“I’m all ready there Buddy. You just just to take a look around alright.I'm the sunshine in your hair,I'm the shadow on the ground,I'm the whisper in the wind.I'm your imaginary friend.And I know I'm in your prayers.”

Placing you hand on your sons head you gently took the phone from his fingers as he started to sniffle, giving him a weak smile you ruffled his hair. “Why do you go play sweetie.

She got back on the phone.Said, "I really miss you, darling.Don't worry about the kids, they'll be alright"

Nodding his head, the little boy said his goodbyes followed by an I love you as he rushed out of the room. “You know, I really miss you Leon. But don’t worry about the kids alright. They’re gonna be alright.” Swallowing back some tears you shook your head sitting down in the kitchen chair. “I really wish I was in your arms right now. Laying right beside you but I know I’ll be in your dreams tonight.”

Wish I was in your arms,Lyin' right there beside you.But I know that I'll be in your dreams tonight.

Closing his eyes, Leon relaxing on the bed though his hand clutched the phone tightly. He knew what you were saying was true, he knew his dreams would easily be filled with you, with your smile. Those dreams of you, thoughts were the only thing that helped him through these missions.

And I'll gently kiss your lips.Touch you with my fingertips.So turn out the light and close your eyes.

“I’ll gently kiss your lips, touch you with my fingers tips.” You teased gently though you could feel your eyes stinging with tears. “So just turn out the lights and close your eyes.”

Clearing out his throat, Leon blinked back his own tears. His forced himself to let out a laugh, his body slouching. “I can same to you, ya know.”

I'm already there,Don't make a sound.I'm the beat in your heart.I'm the moonlight shining down.I'm the whisper in the wind.And I'll be there 'til the end.Can you feel the love that we share?Oh, I'm already there.

“I’m already with you Y/n, so don’t make a sound alright. I’m the moonlight shinning down and I’m the whisper in the wind. I’ll be with you until the end, can’t you feel the love that we share, I’m already there.”

Sniffling, you felt the tears streaming down your cheeks as you listened to your husband. The dull ache in your heart, you desperately wished you could see him.

“We may be a thousand miles apart,But I'll be with you wherever you are. Alright, so don’t worry about me. I’ll be home before you know it.” Leon whispered, he couldn’t wait to for this to be his last.

He couldn’t wait to see you and the kids again but right now he was just happy you were thinking of him.

Oh, I'm already!There.

“I love you.”

[elenafisher-wong]

Hunnigan in Damnation: Leon why do you have a picture of the most wanted international spy as your phone's lockscreen? Hunnigan in Death Island: aww Leon you have a picture of your newborn child as your phone's lockscreen! Hunnigan in Death Island: wait.

[sapphire-weapon]

“sleeping with Ada was the inciting incident behind Leon’s drinking problem and he doesn’t even know it” theory/analysis - wait have you talked about this before? I missed it if you did :(

No, I haven't. I meant to. I actually have a half-finished post about it sitting in my drafts, but then the ADHD kicked in and I got distracted and wandered off and haven't bothered to go back to it since.

The thing with this analysis is that like... it's both not that complicated and also very complicated and abstract, and so just the thought of explaining it feels daunting.

To put it in the simplest terms possible: Leon spent RE2 and RE4 chasing an idealized version of Ada that didn't actually exist, so when he finally got the actual Ada in bed and realized that it didn't bring him the catharsis that he was looking for -- and that he actually still felt incomplete/damaged -- his brain just kind of shut that down and rejected that reality and didn't want to face it, which then led to a drinking problem that culminated in a damn near full-blown emotional breakdown in RE6.

It all sort of ties back to my analysis of the relationship between Leon and Ada as it exists in OG -- where Leon has tricked himself into believing that Ada is the only thing that's keeping the memory of his old self alive. We as the audience know that that's objectively not true, and that it's Sherry and how she's modeled her life and her worldview after him that's keeping the old Leon alive -- but that's also really painful for Leon to think about, because he's under the impression that he fucked up Sherry's life so badly that he doesn't deserve to be in it anymore, so it's easier for him to just project all that shit onto Ada.

And so chasing Ada was about more than wanting to romantically/sexually pursue the pretty lady who makes his heart go dokidoki. Despite the bond that they have, Ada is still mostly a mystery to Leon and always seems to be 20 steps ahead of him -- and so, on some level, chasing her was less about getting the girl and more about finding the answers that he's been looking for.

But Ada is just a person. She has her fingers in a lot of pies, sure, but she's not omnicient or omnipotent. She doesn't have the answers to how or why or when things went wrong in Leon's life, and she doesn't have the answers as to how to fix them or make them better.

So, when Leon slept with her and found that divine inspiration didn't enter his consciousness through the tip of his dick and travel its way down his boner and then up his spine and then into his brain like the weirdest venereal disease ever -- instead of feeling relieved at finally having taken care of the sexual tension between them, or comforted by her physical presence, or humbled by her intimacy -- he probably just felt... empty.

This was something he'd wanted so badly. He'd been chasing it for so long. And now that he'd finally gotten it, it was nothing that he'd hoped/thought it would be.

Because he wasn't really chasing Ada. He was running from his own demons, and Ada just happened to have been in front of him.

And instead of face that, instead of deal with that, his brain shut down and went NOPE DIDN'T HAPPEN and reached for literally anything that could distract it from that truth -- regardless of the form it took. Whether it was a slavish devotion to his job that was quickly leading to burnout or the flask he always kept in his back pocket -- it didn't matter what it was.

A lot of this theory/analysis/whatever you want to call it really comes from how fucking weird and bizarre their conversation about it is in Damnation. It always struck me as weird. This isn't how normal fucking people talk to each other about setting up a booty call.

Ada: By the way, when are we going to, um... carry on from where we left off that night? Leon: Any time but now. Ada: You're angry with me, aren't you? Suits you.

Something happened that night that: A) left things feeling unfinished and B) was emotionally charged enough that Ada is under the impression that Leon's mad at her for it, but C) wasn't a turn-off enough for Ada to not want to try again.

It almost seems like Ada had picked up on a weird vibe coming from him and didn't let him stay the whole night through. It probably went something like:

sex happened -> lying in bed together in the afterglow -> something about Leon's general demeanor post-coitus just doesn't feel right -> Ada pulls a "you should probably go" -> Leon gets butthurt but leaves without a fight -> Ada spends the next however many months going "that dick was bomb tho" -> they meet up in Damnation -> Ada decides "no the dick was worth it idc how weird he got" -> propositions him for a round two

I don't think that round two ever happened, though -- or, if it did, it just made things worse. And that's why, by the time we reach RE6, Leon's attachment to Ada has become so unhealthy and unhinged that he damn near has a total break from reality towards the end.

Chasing Ada had given him a personal goal to work towards -- it gave him hope that there was still some lost, forgotten part of himself that he could reclaim. And now that he knew that that was all just a massive cope and none of it was real, he didn't know what to do with himself.

It's not dissimilar to the idea of a character feeling empty after finally exacting the revenge they'd been planning for so, so long. Without that goal to work towards, what else do they have?

This is why the progression of RE6 to Vendetta to Death Island is so important.

In RE6, Leon finally comes to terms with the fact that he doesn't know who Ada is and probably never will, which is why he tells Helena "No" when she tells him to go after her.

And with the Ada thing resolved, Leon throws himself into his work, because what else does he have? But his job makes him completely fucking miserable, so it doesn't fix or stop the drinking habit he's developed.

But then in Vendetta, here comes Chris to drag Leon to his feet and tell him he's not alone -- which is the first time ever, in Leon's entire adult life, that that has ever happened. Ever since Claire left him and Sherry on the side of the road outside of Raccoon City, Leon has been going through this nightmare hellscape alone. So, for Chris to actually come around and help support that weight is a massive, massive fucking deal.

And now, by Death Island, Leon has finally started to really wake up to the reality that is his life. He's more grounded and self-aware in DI than he has ever been at any point in his entire character arc.

And I just so badly want to believe that a massive breakthrough is coming for him in RE9 and he actually puts his foot down and takes control of his life for the first time ever. Because, remember: Leon gave up years and years ago. His life is the way that it is because he allowed it to become that way.

It's long since past due for him to finally stand up for himself.

But we'll see how it goes.

[thebrandywine]

You know I'm not sure if you've answered this already or if you have any thoughts on it, but I wanted to ask anyway. What's Leon's relationship with Ada in your broken machine au? Like she knew him before he became an agent and we know Leon still went to Spain and China and would've presumably seen each other again. Which also makes me curious about his fight with Krauser, was he just a random dude he had to fight or did they have some sort of relationship? Anyways I'm absolutely obsessed with all your fics and I can't wait for part 2 of broken machine to come out💕💕💕

excellent questions!!! i left Leon's relationship with Ada completely up for interpretation (mostly by not mentioning it, lol). re2 was the same, but by re4 leon was almost wholly unrecognizable-- she knew who he was and still helped him out, but that was the extent of it. any meetings between re4 and re6 (like in damnation) would have taken place between Ada and *Kennedy*, so they never developed a rapport. he was masked in re6, too, so she might not have even recognized him then! as for Krauser, Kennedy *was* assigned to the AUPIT but they didn't develop the (mostly canon to me) relationship that's so tasty to so many of us. Kennedy was a tool to be used and Krauser used him as needed and then put him away again-- nothing more.

i'm so glad you like my stuff! the sequel to broken machine is still a ways off, but i'm going to play around in the universe intermittently starting on 2/27!

[fonulyn]

wait hi so is leon an alcholic or not cos i cant write the guy struggling if i dont know what hes got issues with

no, he is not.

the answer very much depends on who you ask bc half the fandom has decided that yes he is just because he dares to have a drink. i swear to god the attitude people have about alcohol...

personally, I am always going to say no, he is not. does he use alcohol as a bad coping mechanism sometimes? sure. but that doesn't mean he's an alcoholic. i've personally dealt with a shit day sometimes with a bottle of vodka but it doesn't make me an alcoholic and it doesn't mean i can't (and regularly do) go months without a single drop of it.

canonically we see or hear of him drinking:

in the og re2 he was hungover and missed his first day. his girlfriend broke up with him and he dealt with it by drinking too much. he was also 21, and probably went through a big heartbreak, so even if it wasn't the most solid decision who could blame him.

he takes a sip from JD's flask in Damnation. after the licker attack. that, in my opinion, is more his way of sort of toasting JD, and it's not like he's trying to get drunk. even if he was, a flask that size? good luck trying lmao.

at the end of Damnation he's pouring himself a drink. he just survived a massive ordeal, so honestly, so would I. I'm only including numbers 2 and 3 to be thorough bc I don't even think he was even close to being drunk in either instance.

he is drinking in Vendetta when they come get him at the bar. he's alone, he's on vacation, and he's dealing with yet another traumatic incident (story of his life lmao). he's holed himself away to deal with his shit in private, and if it does involve alcohol in inadvisable amounts? he's an adult he can do it if he so pleases. would there be better ways to deal with things? sure. does it make him an alcoholic? hell no.

just. using alcohol occasionally as a bad coping mechanism does not make someone an alcoholic. there is absolutely no indication in canon that he can not function without alcohol, or that his life revolves around it in a manner that would be concerning. he's an adult who sometimes drinks. end of story.

that all being said? if you want to write a fic where he struggles with alcoholism? go for it! fiction exists so we can put them in situations that are not 100% canonical. i've done it myself too, i have a couple of fics where i wrote him a (recovering) alcoholic because it fit the story i wanted to tell and the themes i wanted to explore. it's not wrong at all, and you can use what's in canon to extrapolate that and it can still be very plausible! you don't need to limit yourself because of that :)

what gets on my nerves is the fandom tendency to act as if it's god's word that he's absolutely an alcoholic no matter what bc how dare a person have a drop of alcohol. it's different to explore it in fic (or in art) than to claim that it's an inherent part of canon when it's not.