#alcohol free era
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just like - æ â„
#momo icons#twice icons#gg icons#icons#black hair#hirai momo icons#hirai momo#2021#alcohol free era#long hair#radio#icons hirai momo#hirai momo twice#twice hirai momo#twice momo#twice#momo#momo twice#kpop#kpop icons
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just like â ćčžçŠ
#sana icons#twice icons#gg icons#icons#2020#2023#2022#long hair#brown hair#red hair#alcohol free era#taste of love#opening#moonlight sunrise#season greetings#hat
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#noel gallagher#news#ng#(headline and text r all from different sources but itâs all the same story)#(*and comments)#noel i WARNED YOU THIS WOULD HAPPEN like 6 years ago. did you listen?#and look where we are now. smfh#alcohol-free noel would be a good era for him but what we really need is for him to become a megastoner.
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20200612 @ Music Bank
© Brighter Than White | Do not edit.
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cr. njmsjmdct2 on twt
#twice#twice scans#nayeon#era; heart shaker#era; dance the night away#era; feel special#era; I CAN'T STOP ME#era; alcohol-free#era; talk that talk
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"Ehhhhhh~!?... Whaddya mean I'm married?!" Yoruichi, clearly drunk off of this one single margarita, set her cup down and dramatically checked her hands for a wedding band by fanning them in front of herself. Finding one on her left ring finger, her eyes went wide in shock. She then reached up to touch the ring of the narrow collar about her neck, before her fingers shifted to the embroidered leather.
"T-ta... KĆ«kaku...?" She seemed to pause incredulously at the idea, staring off into space for a moment. "... Yokatta na, I'm the luckiest person in the world!!!" She started to laugh and apparently also cry at the same time since she was dabbing at her eyes.
#In Character#Character: YORUICHI#Verse: BLEACH MAIN#Era: UNITED#Free Range#Alcohol TW#[ the real Sunday content ]
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Need
Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader
Summary:
Daryl comes back from a run acting strangely needy, and you find out that Zach made him jealous. (You may have to thank Zach later.)
Or - Daryl fucks your brains out to prove to himself that you're his.
Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader. Established Relationship. Smut/PWP. Set during early Season 4/The Prison Era.
Word Count: 3,000
The Walking Dead Masterlist | AO3 Link
Detailed warnings and author's notes below the cut.
Warnings: this is mainly a smut fic - the reader uses she/her pronouns and has a vagina; the reader and Daryl have a sexual relationship that skews slightly romantic; the reader's age is not at all specified; Daryl being very needy (hence the title); Daryl is more dominant the reader is more submissive, but there is no laid out rigid roles; Daryl is jealous and trying to 'claim' the reader after someone else makes sexual comments about her (when she is not around to hear those comments); mentions of Daryl drinking alcohol and smoking (does not take place during the fic, just a background element); some manhandling - from Daryl towards the reader (nothing unrealistic or beyond Daryl's known strength); oral sex - reader receiving (Daryl certified pussy eater); references to hunting/killing animals for food (come on, this is a Daryl fic); Daryl is slightly mean in this (he tells the reader to shut up) - but he's not vengeful or mean on purpose, he's just in a mood; spit kink - Daryl spits on the reader's pussy; pussy spanking (this was such a last minute addition and I am so glad I did); Daryl calls the reader 'woman'; overstimulation - towards reader; mention of the reader crying/having tears in her eyes (due to overstimulation); Daryl being very possessive due to his jealousy; hair-pulling - Daryl receiving; very slight anal play (Daryl tongues the reader's asshole - juust a bit); penis in vagina sex; unprotected sex - they don't use a condom and there are no mentions of other forms of birth control (don't be like them); there is no mention of Daryl cumming inside the reader, though because the fic ends before we get to his orgasm (sorry, Daryl); slight cockwarming; the sex gets rough toward the end; I believe that's it for this fic?
A/N: No, this was not the winner of the poll. But right now I am in a mindset for TWD fics because I have been watching the show and I think it's a good opportunity to get this one out of my drafts - especially because it's shorter and easier to edit. If it's not your thing, feel free to ignore it. Also, I am not doing a taglist for this one because a lot of people on the taglist last time did not follow my taglist rules (basically, they were tagged and they didn't show up to read the fic, so it feels like a 'why bother' type of situation). So I'm gonna clean out the taglist and after such a short time, I am considering quitting taglists altogether. Anyway, if you do read it, I hope you enjoy the fic.
...
Need.Â
That was the only word you could use to describe Daryl in those moments as he threw you down onto the cot and ripped your pants off with record speed. The air was absolutely ripe with need, the likes of which you had never felt or seen from Daryl before. Especially not in this magnitude.Â
Daryl Dixon was someone who rarely came off as needy.Â
Since the two of you had started this relationship (it was strange to call it a ârelationshipâ when there was so little conventional romance to it, and so few words) - Daryl was never someone you would have described as âneedyâ. He was always the definition of calm. He was level-headed, quiet, reserved - even more so in the face of your intense needs. The more you became a puddle of melded need, when you boiled over into pure want, especially in his presence, the more he turned into a stone wall of uncrackable cold hardness that you wanted so desperately to see crack.Â
It was a game the two of you had been playing since day one. And he hadnât lost yet, not once.Â
Of course, the sex was amazing - even if he never let that facade down. He made sure that your overwhelming, unhidden need always came first. He made sure that you had cum first - usually more than once - before he even considered sticking his cock inside of you or letting you drop to your knees in order to serve him. He was never selfish - a man that lived to serve, in fact.Â
That was why it surprised you when he came back from a run that day and grabbed you by your arm, practically dragging you out to the admin block. It was a place that you and Daryl had set up a little nest for personal privacy in the old wardenâs office. Daryl had chosen the location both for its privacy, and for the wonderful irony.Â
He found it downright hilarious that he was someone who had been reprimanded by cops before the total collapse of society and had been nearly arrested half a dozen times (he liked to put the emphasis on nearly, because he was a fast runner and often disappeared into the woods where they didnât care to chase him, in contrast to someone like Merle, who was a known drug dealer was of far more interest to them - and much slower). Daryl was someone who could have easily ended up in prison, and now he could sit behind a wardenâs desk and smoke a stash of fancy cigars that he had found hidden, and he had polished off the fancy whiskey in between fucking you.Â
And he took an even greater enjoyment in fucking you pinned against the wardenâs desk - but for practical purposes, he had lugged a cot into the office and set up a more comfortable space for the two of you there. The two of you even slept there sometimes because he still refused to sleep âin a cageâ - as he put it. Everyone else in the prison liked to fake that they didnât know where the two of you went, but really - they were just glad that your love nest was far enough away from everyone else that they didnât have to be subjected to the sounds you and Daryl made.Â
And you were glad that you didnât have to pretend to go hunting in order to escape to the woods for some privacy. Especially because, even as capable as Daryl was, the threat of Walkers looming over your head while he fucked you did make it a bit difficult to get fully lost in the sensations.Â
But all of that was far at the back of your mind while he shucked off his crossbow and tossed it aside carelessly (usually he was someone who was careful to put away his weapon, not wanting to damage it so that he wouldnât have to waste precious time on repairs) - but today, there was something simply rabid about him. Something itching and impatient.Â
You couldnât deny that it turned you on, but you had to question what had caused the shift in him. Especially when all of your little games - your teasing, your flirting, your dirty words - hadnât been able to crack him for months.Â
âDaryl, whatâs gotten into-?âÂ
You couldnât even finish posing the question before he began ripping on the waistband of your pants once again. That tense irritability became potent in the air once again when the fabric got caught up in your boots, Daryl letting out a deep grunt and glaring at the obstacle.Â
You reached for the laces in order to get everything off, thinking this was what he wanted, but he simply put two large, commanding, calloused hands on the backs of your thighs and shoved down - hard. He pinned you down to the cot with a tough force, something that made the metal of the supposedly temporary furniture squeal with a worrying sound. You almost didnât hear it over the pitiful, whorish gasp that escaped your lips.Â
He was never like this. He was never so desperate.Â
You loved it. Your body was flooded by heat, equally as desperate within seconds.Â
âDaryl!â You cried out, half confused, half hot red and turned on.Â
Your cunt ached fiercely and clenched around nothing and Daryl locked eyes with that pulsing gash, letting out a pleased hum. There was barely a blink before he dove between his own hands, digging in his fingers in tightly where they held onto your quivering muscles and immediately he licked a long, hard stripe up the center of your pussy.Â
Hungry.Â
That was a word you would have used to describe Daryl many times before.
He was messy and shameless when he ate meals. You had seen him dig into game bloody and raw when he had taken you out hunting, when he was starving and impatient and truly treasured a fresh kill.Â
Currently, thatâs exactly what you felt like - a fresh kill, recently captured by him, a true prey animal under his grasp being absolutely devoured while you could do nothing more but lay there and take it.Â
It felt utterly amazing.Â
It felt like where you belonged.Â
The room soon became filled with sounds - loud, adamant slurping as his tongue furiously worked over your cunt, creating the same kind of shameless slobber that he did when he was thoroughly enjoying a meal. Your gasps and moans shuddering through your lungs as the sensations rocked your body, the pitiful squeaking protests of the cot as Daryl leaned against you more, putting more weight on those rusting springs.Â
He began moaning against your heated flesh while he continued to hold you down by your trembling thighs, and while your ears rang with blood and your face bloomed with heat, you soon realized that the distant, repeated keening sound you could hear - almost like a dying cat - was you.Â
You were having difficulty catching your breath and you quickly became dizzy from the hot, heavy pleasure vibrating up your body from his tongue. Made even better by the feeling of his coarse beard rubbing against your sensitive pussy lips, and the deep vibrations of his moans against you.Â
All you could do was tightly clutch onto the blanket you had used to make up the cot and buck your face against him, hoping for him to shove his tongue deep inside of you or put some more persistent attention on your needy, throbbing clit, rather than simply grazing against the sensitive organ with each pass, making you more and more needy -Â
Daryl groaned into your cunt and then, much to your frustration, he pulled away completely.Â
âStop squirminâ.â He grunted at you, his voice a whole new shade of dark and lustful thick that you had never heard from him - one that made your whole body quiver.Â
You let out a pathetic moan, more wetness gushing out of you.Â
âDaryl, please-âÂ
âShut up.âÂ
Somehow, him barking this rudely at you made you even wetter.Â
You squeaked out another pathetic little sound, expecting that he would get back to devouring you like you were his last meal, seemingly for his own pleasure - but then, he managed to surprise you yet again.Â
He used his hold on your thighs to spread your legs (as much as he could with your pants still tangling your ankles together). And then he pursed his lips and heaved a thick, heavy glob of spit onto you - aiming perfectly and causing it to land right on your sensitive, swollen clit.Â
Just like his perfect mouth, it was hot and slick, and simply seeing the shiny bead come from his lips to land on you caused you to scream and buck against him like a cow being branded. Which is exactly what he had intended - for you to be branded by him, marked as his, fully owned by him.Â
Hot tears of pleasure escaped your eyes and he locked right onto your gaze - even through the choppy dark curtain of his too-long bangs, his steel blue eyes pierced into your soul and the burning lust you saw there punched you in the gut. When he took one of his hands off your thigh, you didnât have a moment to think about what he was going to do before he brought the heavy pads of his tough, well-worked fingers down onto your already sore clit and spanked you.Â
Once, twice, three times - something he had done to you before, knowing exactly how hard to hit you without making it painful, just enough to jolt shocking pleasure through your body and make you sob.Â
âListen, woman.âÂ
He ground his voice again, lowly, making you shiver when he leaned in and gripped your face with that now wet hand, forcing you to face forward and pay attention to him. You stared at him through tear-misty eyes, absolutely enraptured and lustful, wanting nothing more than him.Â
âThis is mine.â He growled these words with quiet power, driving his point home with another smack to your cunt that had you crying out and seizing against the touch.Â
âYours.â You chirped back, eager to affirm it, your brain filled with nothing but him. âYours, all yours. Daryl-âÂ
Before you could babble out any more affirmations, he took an even tighter, possessive, bruising death grip on you once again. One hand on your hip and the other on your thigh - trying to keep you right where he wanted you as he dove back in, just as hungry. This time he gave into exactly what you wanted, seemingly because your words had been what he wanted. He knew you all too well even without words, and he latched his mouth around your mound with intent, laving his tongue furiously across your clit without relenting.Â
You werenât sure which was worse - the teasing, or him tongue-fucking your clit like he was trying to drive you insane.Â
Your hand flew to his hair with the intention of shoving him off as white hot sparks of overstimulated pleasure-pain flew up through your gut, but your muscles curled instinctively and you wove a tight grip into his locks without thinking. Unintentionally drawing him closer and locking him in place as you gurgled out cries of wounded pleasure and he continued to moan against you, almost making your poor clit numb.Â
But of course, being as perfect at this as he was with everything else, he drew an orgasm out of you just as he wanted to.Â
âDaryl! Fuck! Iâm cumming! Iâm cumming! Iâm - ah!âÂ
He moaned against you in pure pleasure as it happened, and then he retreated down your pulsing hole to lick up every single bit of your wetness as it freshly flowed out of you. He continued to moan, slurping and flexing his tongue so he wouldnât miss a drop, eating you like the finest delicacy he had ever experienced. His tongue even strayed down your perineum, dipping into your other hole a bit, clearly unafraid and never shy, not wanting to miss a single bit of your taste.Â
You were left panting, desperate to catch your breath, and with your brain still completely out of commission, he stood up, his mind already on an entirely new track. You couldnât contain your whine of disappointment when all of his warmth was suddenly gone, even his hands losing contact with your thrumming skin.Â
âDaryl-?âÂ
You didnât have long to question it before you heard the sound of a zipper.Â
Not even knowing when you had closed your eyes, you whipped them open to see him shoving his pants down to mid-thigh and pumping his cock in hand a few stray times before he stepped toward you. You werenât the biggest fan of the âbent in half like a pretzelâ position, as your back was starting to ache slightly, but he took the look of pure hunger in your eyes was all the consent he needed (especially with the way your gaze was focused on his cock, the slight glisten of precum beading at the tip).Â
He was secure in knowing that you would stop him or tell him no if you needed to.Â
And there were absolutely no thoughts of stopping on your mind when he put a hand back on your hip and used the other hand to guide his cock into you, sinking deep inside of your slicked, hot cunt in one smooth movement.Â
Fuck - he always filled you up so fucking good.Â
âDar-âÂ
âAll fuckinâ day.â Daryl growled out, tight through his teeth, taking only a single moment before he began to pump his hips forward, fucking into you.Â
He wasnât quite as furious as before, his pace slower now. Seemingly, he had gotten some of that pure need out of his system by eating your pussy. He began to thrust in and out of you at a leisurely pace, making you feel comfortably, pleasantly full.Â
âAll fuckinâ day, I had to listen to Zachâs goddamn yappinâ.âÂ
Your brain was slowly coming back into function.Â
He had gone on the run with Zach and Sasha.Â
You thought Daryl liked Zach?Â
Surprisingly, Daryl then reached for your shoes and began undoing the laces - perhaps now finally interested in getting your pants and shoes out of the way. You just laid back and let him do whatever he pleased, your cunt flashing with a warm, pleasant feeling - simply enjoying that it was Daryl fucking you.Â
âHad to listen to that little smart-mouthed fuckinâ asshole-âÂ
Daryl let out another grunt, smacking his hips into yours particularly hard, causing you to let out a gasp. He took off one of your shoes and dropped it to the ground.Â
âHad to listen to him go on and on about you.âÂ
What?Â
Then went the other shoe.Â
Your jeans followed soon after, easily untangled from your legs by Darylâs deft fingers, making your legs free up to spread widely, inviting him in further - he laid himself down against your body, and you found your muscles much less stiff with your knees bracketing around his waist. There was another moment of comfortable fullness - stillness, as he laid there, nosing at your neck, seemingly enjoying your scent with deep breaths.Â
You ran your fingers through his hair, scratching at his scalp in a way you knew he liked, boiling over with curiosity until the question leapt out of you.Â
âWhat happened with Zach?â You had to ask, still slightly fuck-dumb and confused.Â
You didnât know it, but hearing the name come off your lips was enough to trigger another intense wave of that feeling in Daryl. The jealousy, the neediness, the urge to claim you.Â
Daryl let out another harsh growl - a sound coming from him that made your pussy leak around him and clench down hard on his cock. He grabbed both your hands and entwined your fingers with his - a fierce, demanding grip rather than a romantic one. He kept you pinned in place, right where he wanted you, and he began fucking his hips into you at a fast, hard pace that was enough to push a scream right from your lungs.Â
âHe - would-nât - shut - the - fuck - up.â Daryl grunted in your ear, emphasizing each sharp syllable with a deep, harsh pounding of his hips into your pussy. âAbout you.â He whispered those words lowly, dangerously into your ear.Â
âDaryl-â You gasped, your whole body dizzy and vibrating with that electricity once again.Â
âAbout your ass-âÂ
He reached down and grabbed your ass - harsh, digging his fingers into the flesh with a possessive touch that made you cry out. He hammered his hips forward and used that touch to drag you toward his cock, fucking you onto him like a fleshlight for a few moments before he continued speaking.Â
âAbout your tits-âÂ
He reached up and groped your breasts aggressively through your shirt, popping one of the tiny decorative buttons. A wreckage that would only serve to show off more cleavage in the end. Your nipples instantly became stiff under his touch and you arched into his hands - only for the rough, wonderful feeling to be gone too soon.Â
âDaryl,âÂ
âHe wouldnât stop talkinâ bout what you might look like when you cum.â He growled out. âWhen he ainât never gonna get to know.âÂ
It was thrilling, him being so possessive of you now. But you knew that it was so Daryl. Him being angry at Zach for speaking about you in a vulgar way, but holding his tongue - not speaking up then because he wanted to keep your relationship private, didnât want to claim you in front of someone publicly.Â
Or he simply kept his mouth shut because he didnât want to lose his temper when they had a job to do.Â
âHe wouldnât stop-âÂ
âPlease, Iâm yours.â You moaned out, grinding your hips into him desperately, needy for his full and focused attention.Â
As much as you enjoyed the jealousy streak that had started this heated encountered, you needed Daryl to focus on you now - not on the words of some petty boy who had either been trying to rile Daryl up or didnât even know the two of you were together because of the lack of PDA in your relationship.Â
âDaryl, please. Iâm yours.âÂ
âThaâs right,â Daryl growled out, his voice dangerously low. âYouâre mine.âÂ
He leaned tightly over you once again, and when his hips picked up speed - you were done for.
...
A/N: Please keep in mind, this is a oneshot, and there will not be a continuation or a 'Part 2'. If you are going to comment, please comment about the body of work that has already been written. If you like this and you want to see more of my fics in my style, you can check out my most recent fic Heaven's Gate, which is also a Daryl Dixon x Reader fic, or you can check out my other TWD works on AO3.
#sundrop writes#daryl twd#daryl dixon x reader#twd daryl#daryl dixon smut#daryl dixon fanfiction#daryl dixon#the walking dead daryl#daryl fanfiction#the walking dead fanfiction#twd fanfiction
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.
#thinking about going alcohol free for a bit#not to like never go back to it#but if Iâm in my depressed era I should be avoiding depressants more lol#guess the weekend will tell how serious I am about this but I think itâs a good idea at least
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being an old timey doctor must have been wild bc u could just prescribe anyone anything pretty much and they would listen to u. u could prescribe someone chloroform and cigarettes for asthma. u could prescribe leeches. u didnât even have to prescribe people radium bc they took it themselves
#dove talks#warning for child death mention in tags#weirdly serious infodumping as well lol#watched a video about victorian era medicines the other day and itâs fascinating#they had so many ideas and beliefs and so many of them were very wrong lmao#but they also knew a lot of things#they just didnât always use that knowledge in the right way#like they were pretty free with their morphine and heroine once hypodermic needles were around lmao#*heroin#there was a medication for kids that claimed to treat a lot of things#anything from diarrhea to pain from teething#that was full of an often-lethal amount of morphine and alcohol#u didnât even need a doctor to prescribe that one; it was a patent medicine so u could just buy it lol#n like. Technically it worked#bc morphine is a painkiller and a opioid (which very often cause constipation)#n it would knock fussy babies out too#itâs just that. A Lot of kids never woke up#thatâs the sad part of wild past medicine unfortunately#sorry for infodumping ive been possessed#also yeah the radium thing was real n it was insane#people put it in EVERYTHING#toothpaste soap glasswear u name it#they thought it strengthened u n made u generally healthier#of course it didnât do that it just caused a lot of problems#mostly people observed that it can treat cancer n thought that it could cure other things too#which is a pretty understandable leap of logic to me. unfortunately it was very wrong#there was a pro golfer who took a specific radium drink like three times a day#n basically it rotted his jaw until it fell out#very similar to what happened to the radium girls
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His hand so calloused from his pistol softly traces hearts on my face || Joel Miller x reader
Summary: Tommy hires a new ranch hand behind Joel's back and he's not happy about it.
CW: jackson era, rancher!joel and helper!reader, mean!joel, perv!joel, unhinged and bold!reader, lots of banter, mentions of parent death, alcohol, masturbation, smut, dry humping, unprotected p in v, fingering, daddy kink, degradation kink, lots of pet names (baby, etc.), big cock joel miller, lots of dirty talk, some fluff and feelings, no y/n, multiple POVs. (2.8k words)
A/N: Special thanks to @fhatbhabiee for proofreading, @notjustjavierpena for the beautiful banner, @saradika-graphics for the dividers.
âThe hell is this?!â Joelâs fists are closed against his hips, his head cocked to the side as he looks at what Tommy has brought into his home, another lost sheep.
âThis is your new helper.â His younger brother gestures towards you and you look at the older man, an eyebrow raised in defiance. It wasnât the warm welcome you had expected. âMariaâs about to pop out any day now, so I hired someone to take my place in the ranch.â
âYou think a lilâ girl can help me?â Joel looks down at you, his steel gaze analyzing your reaction. But Tommy cuts you off before you can say anything.
âDonât be a sexist olâ prick. She has experience and took care of animals in her previous community.â
âAnd Iâm not a little girl.â You add, detaching every syllable. âShall we try that again? You must be Joel.â You tell him your name, and he takes your extended hand in his calloused palm, squeezing it stronger than necessary.
âNice to meet you.â He grumbles.
âSo, whereâs my room?â
âYour⊠room?â Joel asks, his murderous gaze pinning Tommy down.
âListen, she just got here. Itâs temporary. Give âer a room, feed her and sheâll work for you for free.â
âI sure fuckinâ hope so.â Joel mutters.
How dare he bring this pretty young woman into his home without asking him before? The worst part is, youâre hard working. Every day, you get up at the crack of dawn to feed the cows and the sheep. Youâre stronger than you look. And sometimes, you cook for him too, and he hates admitting that youâre good. Youâre too fucking young, too fucking good looking and he shouldnât be looking at you like that. He shouldnât be fucking his fist every night since you arrived with your name dying on his chapped lips.
Joel joins you in the barn to see if youâre working well. You are, of course, milking one of the cows; your knees in the mud, pulling on the cowâs udders.
âWhen youâre done, put the milk into glass bottles and bring âem inside⊠We can trade âem.â Joel orders, then clears his throat. âDâya⊠need anythinâ?â
When Joel doesnât bark out orders, heâs silent. Itâs the first time in a week heâs shown any care for your well-being.
âHm⊠clothes for the cold months coming would be nice.â You finish milking the cow and get up. You look at your ruined pants and sigh. âYeah⊠clothes would be nice.â
âSure thing, kiddo.â
You cringe at the nickname. âThanks, Joel. But stop calling me that.â You canât look at him, and you simply pet the giant, but soft beast who moos in response. You chuckle and turn to Joel. You pretend for his sake that you donât hear him on the other side of the wall every night, wet noises mixed with heavy pants. You pretend you donât do the same. âIâm closer to 30 than to 20.â You watch as he swallows heavily.
Still, 26 years is a big age gap, and Joel curses in his head as he hears you confirm your age.
âRight, but Iâm 56. Youâre jusâ a kid to me. I could be your dad.â
âIâm a woman. Treat me like one.â You respond firmly. He sees how worked up that gets you, how your body is facing him with your fists tight like youâre keeping yourself from hitting him.
Joel sighs and stays silent for too long, leaving with a last glance at you and another order. âBe ready in 10. Weâre goinâ downtown to get you clothes. Be late, and Iâll go without ya.â
Youâre fuming, and you want to curse the manâs ancestors, but you stay silent, obedient. You pack the milk harvest of the day: 3 good bottles, that would only need to be filtered before consumption. You go into your room to put on your only clean pair of jeans, and join Joel at the front, where heâs stoically waiting, big, stupid strong arms crossed against his chest, the sleeves of his flannel pulling against his muscles. You stomp to him with a box of milk in hands, and he chuckles, the asshole chuckles â
âListen, asshole â â You push the box into his arms, and he takes it effortlessly, an amused grin on his face. âI donât know if youâre just sexually constipated or what, if so, please for the love of God, get fucking laid, but you donât have to be mean to me all the time. Just because Iâm young or because you donât want me here orâŠ. You know what? I had a dad, heâs fucking dead. Youâre not my father, move on. Treat me like a fucking person.â
One of his eyebrows lift, and he looks at you for a few seconds, before asking: âYou done?â
âNo. Tell me youâll stop being an ass or Iâll go find someone more annoying than me to replace me.â
âFine. Iâll treat you like a woman and a person.â
âThank you for the bare fucking minimum. Letâs go, cowboy.â You say between your teeth.
Your walk from the ranch to downtown Jackson calms you down. Everyone else is too nice for you to stay mad.
âSâhere.â He points at the storefront with a sign that reads clothing and repair services. You go in with him, a soft bell announcing new guests. There are a few racks with seasonal clothing, a few different sections clearly identified: for children, women and men. Joel brings the milk up to the counter and the owner gives him five coupons in exchange.
âYou can get five things.â Joel tells you as he hands you the coupons.
âButâŠ. Donât you need anything?â
âNo, Iâm fine.â
âOkayâŠâ
You look around while Joel waits at the counter. You find two sweaters your size, two pairs of pants and some underwear (that were on âsaleâ for 3 for 1 coupon). You give your coupons to the owner, she counts your items and tells you that youâre good to go.
Weeks pass, where Joel really tries to be nicer to you after your little meltdown. He doesnât call you kiddo anymore â thank God â but you sometimes feel his gaze linger. You both try to stay away from each other â why would you fuck your new boss - because truth is, you find him very attractive despite his ill manners. But seeing Joel every day in the most domestic of settings lights something inside of you â a profound want and⊠affection.
In some rare occurrences, you have fun together. There are a few people in your backyard â Tommy, some townies you met through Joel, Ellie, Joelâs adoptive daughter who had moved away with her girlfriend. Youâre settled around a bonfire to shield your bodies from the cold. Joel has a guitar on his lap, and his face has a pleasant glow from the beers you shared. Youâre sitting between him and Tommy.
âHope the old manâs treating you well.â Tommy jokes, a dig at his older brother.
âSurprisingly well. Well, after he stop treating me like a fucking kid.â You snort.
âYeah, he tends to do that.â Ellie concedes.
âStop talkinâ about me like I ainât here.â Joel grumbles.
âYou just had to be nicer.â You grimace.
âHad to see if you were a good worker âfore.â
âAm I?â
Your shoulders brush, and you smile innocently at him.
âGuess so.â
Thatâs the closest thing from a compliment youâd get. You call it a night shortly after, but everyone seems determined to spend the night outside.
You wake up in the middle of the night to a door closing, so you decide to get up for a glass of water. You pad silently on the cold wooden floor, only wearing your panties and an oversized long-sleeved shirt. You almost jump out of your skin when you see Joel sat on his favorite chair in the living room, knees spread like he owned the world. He had a half empty beer in hand.
âDidnât mean to wake you up, sweetheart.â His voice is rough. He looks up at you, eyes tracing your curves through your shirt, focusing on your bare legs, on your nipples peaking through your shirt. You self-consciously wrapped your arms around your torso.
âSâokayâŠâ You go into the kitchen to get a glass of water. You could still feel Joelâs gaze on you, since the house was open-floored. âHm, Joel?â You suddenly felt bold, maybe it was the remaining alcohol in your system.
âYeah?â
âWhy do you masturbate every night when Iâm right here?â You sip on your water as you walk back calmly to where Joel sat. âWhy donât you fuck me, huh?â
Joelâs face burns with shame, and you smile when you realize you were right.
âYouâre way too young and pretty for me, darlinâ.â He leaves his bottle on the table next to him, and he pinches the bridge with a long sigh. âAnd youâre workinâ for me.â
âLet me be clear, Joel.â Your glass joins his bottle, and you lean towards him, your legs between his, your arms around his neck. âI like you. I want you. Please. Let me have you.â
Joelâs breath comes out shaky, and his rough hands grab onto your shirt. âTried so hard to make you hate me, so this wouldnât happen.â
âYou succeeded for a while.â You smile sweetly, your fingers treading in the curls on the back of his neck. âYouâre very hot, Mr. Miller. I wonât beg again.â Your breath fans his dry lips.
âOkay. Okay.â Joel pulls you down even more, and youâre almost falling on his lap as his lips crash on yours. Itâs hungry and angry, desperate. Heâs angry at himself, you know it, but you donât want his shame. The older man tastes like beer and smells like fire. Your teeth pull on his bottom lip.
âI do the same thing, Joel. I fuck my fingers every night while I imagine yours.â You whisper against his lips after a chaste kiss to his swollen bottom lip.
Joel groans and drags you down. You sit comfortably on his lap, feeling the rough tent in his jeans.
âLeâme see you.â He sounds more confident now as he pulls on your hem and lift your shirt over your head. You like his heavy gaze on your breasts, his calloused fingers pulling on your nipples to make them harder. You sigh happily and thrust your hips against his hard cock. He feels so big, but youâre confident you could take all of him.
âYâwanna rut against my cock like a bitch in heat, huh? Go ahead, sweet girl. Make yourself wet for daddy.â
You didnât think Joel had such a dirty mouth on him, but you obey. You rub your wet panties against the large bump in his jeans. The rough texture of the used fabric pleases you, but you need more. You clumsily remove your panties and abandon them on the floor. Joel, in a trance, admires your pussy. His fingers barely touch you, and youâre already panting.
âSâall foâ me, huh? Dâyou need help?â
You nod enthusiastically.
âWords, baby.â He pressed, his free hand holding your chin up.
âTouch me, daddy. Please.â
âSuddenly so polite and sweet.â Two of Joelâs fingers circle your clit as you keep desperately moving your heat against his jeans, your mouth falling open in a silent moan. Pleasure builds rapidly in your core, and youâre thrusting your hips even harder, until you come in a moan.
âThatâs it, thatâs it.â He soothes. âCâme here.â He holds you in his arms strengthened by years of manual labor and lifts you up as he gets up. You wrap your legs around him. âMânot done with you, but I want you to be comfortable.â
He brings you to his bedroom, which you had never seen fully. Only glimpses here and there. Somehow, it felt more intimate. He drops your body on his large bed.
âHow are you still wearing clothes?â You complain, and he chuckles.
âSo eager, arenât ya?â Joel starts undressing, still on his feet by the bed. He only leaves his boxers on, and you try to see him in the dark. You decide to rely on your touch instead, when he takes the spot between your legs. Your fingers trace his strong back, finding scars here and there. You kiss him, softly this time.
âNeed to get you ready foâ me,â
âYes, please.â
His calloused hands spread your legs more, before he inserts one of his thick fingers in. You tighten around him, it already feels like heâs stretching you out.
âRelax baby.â
You breathe, in and out, slowly relaxing your walls at the same time.
âThatâs it, leâme in.â He thrusts it in and out a few times, before adding another finger. He uses his thumb to caress your clit, soothing the pain through another wave of pleasure.
âF-Fuck, Joel. Thatâs so much.â
âI know baby, youâre doinâ so well. Jusâ let go.â
He fucks you hard and fast with his fingers, pressing on your swollen clit with his thumb. Youâre moaning and thrashing through your second orgasm of the night, and Joelâs looking at you intently, his free hand caressing the lump in his boxers.
âNeed to fuck ya now. Can you take it?â His fingers leave you empty, and he soothes you with a kiss on your forehead.
âYes. Give it to me, please.â
He pulls down his boxers and throws them away. You watch in awe as his girth jumps out. He holds the base and swirls the fat head against your wetness, making you jump a little, still sensitive.
âSo wet foâ me.â
He aligns the head of his cock with your hole and pushes in slowly. You let out a breath after the big tip has breached your entrance.
âThatâs only the tip. More?â
You nod your head a few times. âI want everything.â Youâre so scared this will be the only time you can have him like this, bare and desperate.
He thrusts in, feeding you his cock as slow as he can bear. You hold on to him.
âYouâre so big, Joel.â You whine.
âI know baby I know.â Joel kisses you lazily and sensually, stopping his movements when his hips are flush with yours. He waits until you move on your own, and he thrusts in and out with your help, still slow and careful. Your eyes roll in the back of your head, you had never felt better in your life.
âFaster.â
He listens, snapping his hips faster and harsher, but he canât seem to be able to fuck you as hard as he wants in this angle. He suddenly leaves you empty and grabs your hips to turn you around, your ass in the air.
He thrusts in before youâre even ready, and the angle is perfect. He fucks you hard and fast, the sound of his hips snapping against your ass and your pants fill his bedroom. The line between pleasure and pain is so thin, but you love the way he lets himself go. His big balls hit your clit a few times, and youâre crying of pleasure. You hold on to his silky sheets and to the solid, wooden headboard as he pounds into you.
âGimme ânother one, câmon.â He urges you through gritted teeth. âCome on my cock.â
He slows down to catch his breath, fucking you deep and hard, and one of his hand sneaks to the front of your body, teasing your tits with expert hands. Your pleasure builds in your tummy, before the pressure releases, and you come hard around his cock.
âAtta girl.â He praises, breath heavy. You feel him move away, and you turn around just in time to see him pumping his cock a few times, until he comes in any piece of fabric he can find â which ends up being his boxers.
You lay down on his bed, all members spread as you catch your breath with a dumb smile on your lips. You couldnât believe you were just fucked by Joel Miller.
âI never came so much in my life, God.â You whisper in amazement, a hand against your sweaty forehead.
Joel chuckles and you hear his steps moving away from the room, but he isnât gone for too long. He comes back with a warm, wet cloth, which he uses to soothe your swollen pussy, and clean himself up. He climbs into bed with you, and you hope he doesnât ask you to go back to your room. Ever.
Youâre both laying on your side, facing each other. Joel lifts the blanket over you and lays his palm against your warm cheek.
âMâglad Tommy hired you behind my back.â
âYeah?â
âYeah. Stay. I like you.â He adds after clearing his throat. You smile and bring his palm to your lips to kiss it.
âI like you too. I wonât leave, if you want me to stay.â You assure him.
âGood.â He says as he closes his eyes. âSleep, youâre workinâ early tomorrow.â
âYouâre the worst.â You mumble as he chuckles weakly.
#joel miller#joel miller smut#joel miller x you#joel miller x yn#joel miller x y/n#joel miller x reader#joel miller tlou#jackson!joel miller#jackson!joel
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OLDER
leon kennedy x reader
synopsis: he's getting older, and he knows that. not believing in luck or in love, leon finds himself in a position of complete misfortune. he convinced himself he's not worthy of love, but that changes when he meets you.
warnings: angst with fluff ending, age gap, leon is very insecure about his age and the reader. strangers to lovers, mentions of smut, ptsd, alcoholism, depression, suicidal thoughts. reader is very delicate, kind, and patient. there's parts from the vendetta book and a few scenes from re6. it starts with re6!leon and ends with di!leon
word count: 15k
a/n: guess who's back? to celebrate the 1 year re4r anniversary, I decided to post this one shot I was working for almost two months. I'm into my angst era again. also i wrote this based on this analysis i read, which made me think about the broken part of leon for a while, also this fic contains part of the vendetta book. feel free to leave comments, reblogs, tips, or positive critics. they're always very welcome â€ïž
I. THE WEIGHT ON HIS SHOULDERS
Life can be a bitch sometimes.
This is what he says to himself when he finishes another bottle of whiskey. Every day, when he opens his eyes, he tries to stay positive, hoping his day will be different from his usual schedule; in the end, it is always the same bullshit. Over and over again. No apparent ending; always his solitude.Â
But someday it must end, right? He canât be fighting B.O.W.'s for the rest of his life, can he? Maybe someday heâll finally settle down and have a peaceful day. Maybe, on this day, his nightmares will stop, and if heâs lucky, heâll sleep for the entire night. No one can blame him for dreaming of a perfect life, and no one can take this from him.Â
The government made him their slave, their deadly pet that follows and obeys every rule and command, and forced him to risk his neck almost every week to keep their country safe. What a bunch of assholes, he thinks to himself. Thing is, Leon hates himself for what he was forced to become.Â
There is so much pain. So much suffering. He only wanted to be a cop â nothing more than that. He wanted to deal with simple things â not bioterrorists ready to blow up the entire world, not grotesque mutations that defy the natural order of things. Certainly, if he had a choice to go back and change that night, he wouldnât go to Raccoon City. He would've stayed in his cheap hotel room; he would have obeyed Marvinâs orders to not go in there.Â
But now heâs something else. The rookie cop who had to survive that night died. He canât even recognize himself anymore, and sometimes, he blames himself for it. No more than he blames the government for it; if he could go backâŠÂ
His days are filled with this emptiness â the sensation that he might never see his happy ending. Ada? Yeah, sure. He knows he canât trust her, and God knows where she is or what sheâs doing. He was so naive to fall for her like he did. While on his free day out of the office, he finds himself with a certain envy of happy couples. He canât stop thinking: why canât he have the same? Why canât he be happy for once?
Getting older sucks. At this point, Leon thinks and has already convinced himself that he doesnât belong to anyone and that he wonât be able to have someone. To experience love and being loved, he wants to be wanted. Heâs getting older and still doesn't have anyone by his side. Thatâs the price he pays for having this life, and he still blames the government for taking it from him. He doesnât remember the last time he actually felt something for someone, and at this moment of his life, it doesnât matter to him anymore. Leon had already accepted the fact that he'd die alone. Maybe heâll get a cat to keep him company. Since heâs not much of a dog person since Raccoon City, maybe heâll name her a cute name; who knows? Thatâs probably the closest heâll get to having something waiting for him at home.Â
Leon doesnât remember the last time he actually felt happy. Since Raccoon City, he doesn't know what happiness means, and sometimes, on very rare occasions, he envies people around him. He feels like his entire life has no purpose and no meaning, and heâs completely faded to emptiness, to a sad existence based on killing bioweapons and serving his country. Does he feel proud about it? No, he doesnât.Â
Itâs been a very long time since Leon felt pride. That feeling died and is now buried in the remains of Raccoon City, inside that police station where his life turned upside down. Now heâs only an empty shell of what he used to be. Heâs rotting inside, craving something he knows he canât have, and thereâs nothing but a void inside him, consuming every inch of him.Â
After serving his country for years, he started to get used to the idea that maybe he wasnât made for a happy ending, and he shouldnât bother with such things. He canât afford the luxury of being with someone, because it means being vulnerable, and it also means he would have to open himself to things he swore he would never feel again. No, thank you.Â
Things at work arenât exactly the best, either. Years ago, Leon started to question himself about whether the government cared about their people, especially the ones he had to kill in order to save others. Leon couldnât forget what happened in Spain â the entire village he was forced to end so he wouldnât die. Perhaps they couldâve saved them; possibly they couldâve had a chance; maybe if⊠and this is where he dozes off thinking about the infinite possibilities.Â
After what happened in Raccoon City, Leon knew he had lost faith. He knew things would never be the same after everything he saw that day. Sometimes, he finds himself thinking about Annette and William Birkin. He feels his body shivering when he remembers he had to fight for his life, clinging to something bigger than him. Survival.Â
II. RINSE AND REPEAT
He has no social skills, and doesn't know how to interact with people anymore. It all feels weird and uncomfortable, and it makes him feel terrible. Sometimes he feels like heâs stuck in time and canât have a proper conversation with someone normal. The worst part of his life is that he feels heâs carrying a weight on his shoulders that it wasnât supposed to be his in the first place. He has the weight of the world with him, and there is no one to help him through it. Life made him depressed, cold and distant. Life has built him this way; he's shaped himself into something heâs not, and he canât find himself. Heâs lost.Â
Leon canât stop having nightmares about Raccoon City.
At this point, he just accepted that they wouldn't go away. It feels like heâs trapped inside his own mind, and thereâs no turning back. Sometimes at night, he keeps looking at his ceiling imagining a different life, where he was a cop and happy. Usually, his nightmares are so dark and deep that when he wakes up, he finds solace in the sunlight, feeling relieved that he survived another night. When he doesn't sleep, when heâs too scared to close his eyes, he cries quietly, protected by the walls of his room, searching for assurance and a promise that everything will be fine. It doesnât always work, but now he knows he can control his fears, and somehow, it helps him feel safe.
This time, his mission nearly got him killed. His entire body was full of bruises and wounds, and every part of him hurt. He felt his body swallowing a little, and he felt terrible again. He has blood under his nails, and he washes himself at least three times to make sure thereâs nothing more on him than the burden of being a slave for the government.
Leon is paranoid; he canât stand the fact that he has blood on his hands. If he sees a spot, heâll clean it until thereâs nothing left, and maybe heâs now too obsessed with the idea of being clean. It makes him feel sick to the bones, because he knows what he does and what it means. He knows that this guilt wonât be washed away like the blood on his hands, and certainly wonât get away from his head like it does from his clothes whenever he launders them. Itâs a pretty shitty routine, but heâs used to it.Â
Now he finds himself in a very dark place; he canât eat without feeling guilty. He canât do the basics of his chores because he canât stop thinking about his life, regretting every decision he made. Everything he does seems mechanical, like heâs repeating the process over and over again, a perfect killing machine that has no one to care about. On Fridays, he finds himself sitting on his couch, in complete silence, holding an empty bottle. He knows he canât drown himself in alcohol, no matter how much he wants it or how tempting it sounds, because the liquid doesnât affect him anymore. It doesn't make the pain go away or silence the horrors he saw during his life.Â
After three weeks inside his house, locked inside his room, Leon woke up with a strange feeling inside his chest. Something was telling him that this day would be different, like a big change would happen. For the first time in weeks, he decided to leave his place for a simple walk. He could do that; he could walk into the market and buy some real food or maybe get a haircut. He felt that he was able to allow himself to have an ordinary day.Â
After taking a long shower, Leon decided to wear cozy and comfortable clothes. He was so used to his brutal routine that he almost forgot what it was like to have a normal day, but this time, he was willing to try something different. He took a deep breath before leaving his house, and when he felt the soft, cold breeze reaching his skin, he knew he could do that.
Step by step, Leon found himself walking towards the market, even enjoying the lovely view he had from his neighborhood. He doesnât remember it to be so⊠gray. Sure, he knows what winter is, but he doesnât remember the last time he actually stayed at his home during the winter. His lips turn into a small smirk, and he thinks how silly he is. When he reaches the small market, which is more of a store, he walks slowly, looking at what he might be buying - heâs done with frozen food. He stops at the veggie section and keeps looking at it, confused.Â
âThese arenât freshâ a sweet voice is enough to wake him up from his trance. He looks in that direction, and all he sees is you.
âHow can you tell that?â he asks you in visible confusion, which makes you smile. And that smile was enough to sparkle something oddly inside him.Â
âColor, smell, texture,â you explained, still smiling and showing him a fresh vegetable. âThis one is fresh."
"Thanks,â Leon replied awkwardly, taking the vegetable from your hand and placing it in his basket.
âYou donât come here very often. I know almost everyone who comes to buy food here,â you said next, glancing at him with curiosity.Â
âI⊠have a busy schedule,â he says, still sounding awkward.
âReally? Well, you should definitely take some time to buy healthy food. Iâm pretty sure you do a lot of workouts to keep your body in shapeâ you giggle, noticing the size of his muscles, which makes his face turn red.
âIâll keep that in mindâ Leon managed to say, although he wanted to dissipate from Earth.
âI can help with thatâ you suddenly said, analyzing him more carefully.
âWith what?â Leon frowned, already feeling his heart beating ten times faster.
âI noticed youâre having difficulty with your right arm, which makes me think you got it hurt. If youâre planning to buy more, I can help with your bagsâ you offered, very polite and kind, catching him by surprise.Â
âThanksâ Leon says, finding himself smiling, which is unusual.Â
At first, having some company after so much time alone made him think it was strange. He wasnât feeling ready to have a small conversation, but you didnât seem bothered. In fact, you were enjoying walking to this stranger's house in complete silence. Fifteen minutes later, you were in front of his house in an awkward silence between the two of you.Â
âI guess this is itâ you smiled at him, and Leon found himself lost in your smile.Â
âYeah. Thank youâ he said for the fifth time, which made you giggle a little.Â
âAnything for a customerâ you said to him, giving him his bags. âMy parents are the owners, soâŠâ
âYou donât seem too oldâ he said, and after a second, he felt more weird. âI meanâŠâ
âNah, itâs ok. This isnât the first time people say I'm younger than I lookâ. You smiled again, thinking that this old man was very silly and cute. âIâm 25, donât worryâ
âIâm Leon, by the wayâ He finally says his name to you, stretching his hand in a very educated way.
âNice to meet you, Leonâ you said before shaking his hand.Â
Leon took at least three weeks to return to the market.Â
His initial thoughts about you were that he definitely felt weird in your presence. Maybe he felt that way because of his lack of social skills and because he really sucks when the subject is social conversation. He caught himself thinking too hard about the visual and evident contrast between the two of you; you were young, bright and smart, with a great future ahead of you, and plus, you came from a loving family. Leon, on the other hand, was an orphan used and abused by the government, their pet and a man who only knew pain and brutality.Â
However, you were the first friendly face he saw after years. The way you were smiling and giggling at his awkward answers, it definitely made him feel something he thought he would never feel again. It was like you found the rookie cop inside him, and despite the fact that he barely said something, he felt normal around you. And that was more than enough. How could it happen so fast?Â
âHow can I help you?â you said before noticing it was him. âOh, hiâÂ
âHiâ Leon is welcomed by that smile of yours. âI⊠umâŠâ
âYou came to buy more veggies?â you ask, still smiling at him. You think itâs cute to see him without any words.Â
âNo⊠I just came because Iâm looking for food seasoningâ Leon said, his face slightly turning red. âIâm trying new recipes, soâŠâÂ
âYeah? What have you been trying?â you ask with sudden enthusiasm, leading him to the part with seasonings.Â
âNothing too riskyâ he answers vaguely, following you closely.
âWhat kind of seasonings do you like?â You turn back to face him as you show him the shelves with different types of seasonings.Â
âIâm more into spicy flavorsâ Leon tells you, his attention going to the shelves.Â
âIt suits youâ you said, giving him some space. You saw him smiling again.Â
"How does spicy seasoning suit me?â he asks with a hint of curiosity.Â
âYou might think Iâm weird, but⊠seeing from outside, you look like someone with a rough agenda and, apparently, whatever you do is dangerous. Personally, I think you suit perfectly spicy thingsâ you said, hoping it would make sense.Â
âI think I got your point,â Leon said, and then he found himself smiling for the second time.Â
âLucky me, right?â you laugh, walking back to the cashier. âIs this all for today?â
âYeah, I guess it is,â Leon nods, grabbing his wallet to pay for the seasonings.Â
âHowâs your arm?â you ask, taking his money and counting it.Â
âIt's better. I had to take a few painkillers, but itâs definitely betterâ he said, avoiding you for a few moments.Â
âThatâs great. I know a few herbs to help with the painâ you said, giving him the change from his purchase.Â
âHow so?â Leon asks with another hint of curiosity.Â
âA great sorcerer doesnât reveal her secretsâ you wink playfully at him. âYou need to earn that, soldierâÂ
âAnd how could I earn your secrets, great sorcerer?â Leon asks, enjoying your playful mood.Â
âMaybe you can invite me for dinner and show me your cooking skillsâ you shake your shoulders and, for the second time, catching him by surprise.Â
âYou would love that, wouldn't you?â Leon said, and a slight smirk appeared on his lips.Â
âWho knows?â You wink playfully at him, with another suggestive smile on your lips.Â
The world has gone to hell, Leon thinks to himself.Â
He starts to contemplate everything that has happened to him. When did this madness begin? It was back in Raccoon City? Oh, no. It is way older than that. Maybe his collapse started when his family died, and he was left an orphan; what happened in Raccoon City wasnât really the beginning of his nightmare. It was the cherry on top of the torments that would become his life.Â
Now that heâs coming back home from another mission, he canât stop thinking how his life couldâve been if Umbrella had never happened. If those bioweapons were never created, defying every natural order. He looks outside his window, and he just canât stop blaming himself for Tall Oaks.Â
What has become of this world? Leon thinks. Where did I go wrong?Â
His life is an entire mistake. It just goes on and on. His family first, then Raccoon City. Tricell, Los Illuminados, Uroboros and, finally, that nightmare at Tall Oaks. Leon takes a deep breath. He feels his hands shaking and closes his eyes, forcing himself to forget. How silly he is!
The future is a hell thatâs only getting worse.Â
III. THE PAIN OF REMEMBERING
You weren't expecting Leon to find the note with your number that you left on his seasonings, the same way you weren't expecting him to call you.
However, something about him got your attention the minute he stepped foot inside the store. He wasn't like anything you had seen before; he was definitely something else.Â
After almost four weeks since the last time you saw him, you got a call from an unknown number. It was pretty late at night, but your curiosity won the battle within you, and you had to pick up the phone. With a groggy voice of sleep, you saw the number and frowned.
âHello?â You ask, followed by a big yawning. It was one in the morning.Â
âHi⊠um, it's Leonâ he says with some urgency, to which you jump from your bed. âI'm sorry to wake you upâÂ
âNo, don't worry. I wasn't sleepingâ you lied, forcing yourself not to yawn again.Â
âI know it's late, but⊠I was thinking about that dinnerâŠâ he says, sounding somehow hopeful. âMaybe you could come later and⊠talk?âÂ
âYeah, sure. Can you pick me up?â You ask him, and a smile appears on your lips as you answer him.Â
âOf course. At seven?âÂ
âAt seven, it is,â you smiled again.Â
As soon as the call ended, he was in complete shock. For some reason, Leon felt you wouldnât accept his invitation, especially after being alone for so long. His heart was beating faster inside his chest, and he had to remind himself that it was just a casual date between⊠two friends? Could you possibly be his friend?Â
Leon felt anxious, something he only felt when he was on his missions.Â
Suddenly, the mere thought of having you at his home with him sounded terrifying. He felt like it would end in a complete disaster, and you wouldnât see him ever again. Then, Leon had to stop and calm himself down, knowing it was his trauma trying to get the best of him. After everything he went through in his life, being able to trust someone proved to be a difficult task. He felt scared, and his mind was racing with thousands of different thoughts, each worse than the other.Â
Betrayal is the word that defines Leon.Â
He was betrayed before and multiple times, which left him with a lot of insecurities and traumas to the point he feels that he canât trust anyone, which led to another set of insecurities. Leon feels that he isnât enough anymore, that he canât provide the proper attention someone might need from him, and that he canât be in a relationship because of his problems. The truth is, he canât be in a relationship until he leaves his trauma behind, and he knows it. Thatâs the easy part, but the hard one is how to let it go.Â
Later that day, Leon finally had the courage to clean his house. He needed some motivation to get rid of his depression, and nothing was better than finally allowing himself to have some company besides his solitude. His house smelled pretty good, everything was clean, and his furniture was even shining. He opened the curtains, and the sunlight entered his living room. He took a deep breath with the fresh air that came inside, and smiled, feeling somehow proud and happy.Â
At seven, you were waiting outside the store, scrolling through your phone, when you saw Leon approaching on his motorcycle. You were gorgeous, wearing a beautiful dress and covered by a black leather jacket â the perfect contrast that suited you well. Leon was completely mesmerized by the sight of you - so beautiful, he thought.Â
âHey, thereâ you waved at him as he parked next to you.Â
âHi,â Leon replies, sounding embarrassed. âYou look beautifulâ
âYou too, handsomeâ you said playfully, taking the helmet from his hand and sitting behind him, your hands holding him tight. You didnât notice the small blush on his cheeks.Â
"Are you okay back there?â Leon asks you, making sure you were fine before starting the engines.Â
âYeah, Iâm fineâ you said, nodding your head, and smiling when he started to drive his bike to his place.Â
You two didnât take long enough to reach his place. Leon offered you his hand so you had support to get out of his bike, and he even opened the front door for you. He led you inside his house, and everything inside was enough to show you the kind of man he was; his home was big, but simple. He had a lot of comfort there, but it seemed like he didn't spend much time at his place. You saw some photos at the fireplace, a few when he was younger, at some training camp with his possible friends.Â
âHow old were you when you took these?â you asked him with curiosity.Â
âI was twenty-oneâ he said, grabbing the wine and the glasses.Â
âSo youngâ you whispered, noticing that in some pictures, he was sad.Â
Leon took another deep breath. Why did this have to be so difficult? Why couldnât he be just normal for once? Why did everything have to happen to him? You were standing there, so gracefully, observing his old photographs, so young and full of life, with no baggage with you. Someone actually happy and alive. If you knew how much he envies this.Â
âPeople say that our eyes are the windows to our soulâ you turn to face him, noticing his sudden silence. âYours are so sad and broken⊠what happened to your neck?â
Instinctively, his hand reaches his neck, and Leon feels the bandage perfectly secured on his skin, with a small spot of blood. Gladly, it was enough to change the subject, because he was shocked enough by what you said about his broken soul. If you only knew.Â
âI, um⊠got hurt on my job. Itâs nothing.â Leon tries to avoid speaking about his past.Â
âIt seems pretty badâ you step closer to him, your hand gently touching his bandage.Â
âItâs nothing⊠trust meâ Leon smiles weakly, looking down. His heart is beating so fast inside his chest that he could explode any time. âIâm fineâÂ
âThen explain why you are so nervous around meâ you whispered, now softly touching his cheek.Â
Leon felt he stopped breathing, like his lungs decided to leave him alone and deal with the matter himself; how powerful your touch felt. It was enough to break every wall he built around himself for years; it was enough to make him break. And it was only a soft and kind touch. He slowly closed his eyes, his breath becoming normal again, and he allowed himself to just feel it.Â
âI donât know what on earth happened to youâŠâ your voice is full of kindness as you speak, now seeing him hold your hand as you keep touching his cheek. âBut Iâm always here if you decide to talkâÂ
Leon was reaching his breaking point.Â
He was used to being a slave, always using his body, mind and soul to provide safety for the others without them knowing one damn thing about it; he was used to always being alone, to the point that kindness was a strange feeling, almost not existing at all and that he didnât deserve it. But here you are.Â
âIt hurts to remember,â he confessed, his voice a low whisper. âI tried to forget it, but I canâtâÂ
When he felt you wrapping your arms around his body and your warmth embracing him, Leon felt his eyes getting wet. He was so deeply touch starved, craving something so human, that when he got it, he knew he was going to break. His mind was racing, and his body was trying to process the feeling and react in the proper way. He felt so many emotions at once that he thought he was going insane.Â
âPlease, keep holding meâ Leon begs, his arms finding their way through your back as he hugs you back. âBecause I know Iâll fall if you let me goâÂ
After that night, it took almost two months until Leon decided to show up at the store to see you again. He felt nervous, but at this point, he realized that, for some reason, he couldnât stay away from you; he felt that you had some type of magnetism enough to keep him close, which made him feel comfortable, something he hadn't felt in a while.Â
However, before he went to the store to see you, he needed courage. Leon thought you would be upset with him after being ghosted for almost two months, although he felt responsible for it, since he never told you the nature of his job or why he was so absent. Sadly, Leon was again in a spiral of sadness and depression. His last mission was a disaster, and Leon knew he had no control over his feelings again. He was sitting on his bed, contemplating the bottle in his hands. The curtains were closed, and the atmosphere inside his room was darker. He closes his eyes for a brief moment, and then, heâs there again.Â
June 29, 2013. Tall Oaks, USA
âIt might create more problems than it solvesâŠâ the voice of the president echoes inside his head as he points his gun towards the said person.
Leon doesn't recognize the man in front of him, or what he used to be. He keeps his gun raised, his grasp around the trigger getting tight by the second he makes his decision. His voice comes and goes, creating a tense atmosphere around him.Â
âBio-organic weapons are a global threat and we are partly to blameâŠâ Benford said once to Leon when he expressed his desire to expose the truth about the Raccoon City Incident. He looks at the living corpse in front of him. Tick tack. He knows what he needs to do. âIâve always valued your friendship, Leon⊠Itâs time to take responsibility and end this messâÂ
He shakes his head, somehow returning to his reality.Â
âStay right where you are!â Leon said, his voice sounding cracked and angry. The corpse starts walking towards him and as a reflex, his grip gets more tight. âMr. President!âÂ
The zombie starts walking towards him and the woman next to him. He hesitates for a moment, unsure and sure about what he needs to do. Every part of him screams and begs, trying to find a solution. He knows itâs too late. He canât save the president, he canât save anyone.Â
âDonât make me do thisâ Leon gritted his teeth, trying to find any reason to avoid what needed to be done. It happens fast. Adam Benford, the former president of the United States and now a corpse, throws himself towards her. âAdam!â Leon screams.
He pulls the trigger.Â
And thereâs only blood.Â
He gets out of his thoughts when he hears someone knocking on his front door. It doesn't take too long for him to finally stand up and see whoâs there, and, inside his mind, heâs already preparing himself to tell this person to leave him alone, but his entire demeanor changes when he opens the door, and all he sees there is you.Â
âYouâre backâ you smiled warmly at him, your cheeks red because of the cold temperature. âI wasnât sure you were homeâÂ
âWhat are you doing here?â Leonâs first question isn't as welcome as you thought it would be.Â
âA friend canât see a friend?â you answered simply, and the smile never left your lips.Â
âIâm sorryâ he sighs, giving you space to enter his place. âI didnât mean to be rudeâÂ
âDonât worryâ you said, removing your scarf and hat. âAre you ok?â
âIâm fine, I guessâ Leon nods slowly, and you notice heâs not entirely well.Â
âBreakfast?â you ask him, wanting to confirm your suspicions, and he nods quietly.Â
You had difficulty finding yourself inside his place, since youâve been there only once. You notice that heâs quiet, and despite that fact, which is completely normal for him, you know that thereâs something wrong. So, you decided to go simple with his breakfast. Almost forty minutes later, you came back with a plate full of pancakes, crispy bacon, scrambled eggs, and some orange juice.Â
He leisurely used his knife and fork to eat the food you made. The careful manner in which he ate wasnât due to his cautious nature, but rather because he had a terrible hangover that messed with his coordination, and rushing could easily lead to a slip of the hand and his shaking. Leon was a pretty man, and he could easily take on leading roles in Hollywood blockbusters. However, he currently sported a scruffy beard, exuded a weary atmosphere, and radiated fatigue and discontent.Â
âI think I reached rock bottom,â Leon finally says, but he avoids your gaze at all costs.Â
âThen Iâll help you get out of thereâ you said with kindness, your pinky finger interlocking with his.Â
IV. GRIEF AND BARGAINÂ
The path to healing isnât always easy, and now Leon is aware of that.Â
The year is now 2014 and heâs struggling to forget what happened a year ago. Sometimes, when his mind is quiet, he starts to wonder. Is it possible that there could have been a world without Umbrella and zombies? Leon scoffed and shook off his sweet dreams. A world without zombies? That's something from a long time ago. The future is only going to become a worse hell. Then, he has to remind himself about the great things he has in life. You are one of these things.
Although he has your support, he knows that heâll only get better walking this path by himself. The winter deciduous forest looked like branches made of human bones. A mixed forest with a walking path spread out. This is a high-end residential area in Bethesda, Maryland, where congressmen and bureaucrats commuting to Washington spend their nights. In the depths of a thicket, there was a slightly open gentle sloping area where the desired building was located. It was a designer house filled with a sense of openness, with all outer walls covered in glass, and it appeared like a model intended to showcase beautiful scenery rather than a place for people to live in.Â
The luxury was excessive to the point where it seemed somewhat like a toy. Leon had hidden himself in the thicket away from the road and was monitoring the designer house through binoculars with night vision capabilities. It was an unacknowledged fact, but a traitor to the country was living in this mansion. Senator Steven Air, who had sold information to a bioterrorist organization, was one of many government officials who had been involved in the incident in Tall Oaks where the President became a victim of B.O.W. Simmons, the President's aide, was among those who betrayed the government. And Leon still blames himself for what happened that night.Â
Currently, fifteen members of the Division of Security Operations (DSO) and two stealth drones have surrounded Steven's mansion. It was necessary to capture him and extract plenty of information before bringing him to trial. According to reports from aerial surveillance, Steven was on his way home by car from Washington. The distance from the White House to Bethesda was approximately twelve kilometers, and it would take about thirty minutes if he drove fast. Leon shifted his focus to his shoulder holster with a handgun. Of course, capturing him alive was best, but there was no hesitation in shooting the traitor if he resisted.
Leon suddenly remembers. This is Bethesda. The name is derived from the Bible. From the Gospel of Johnâ
âNow there is in Jerusalem near the Sheep Gate a pool, which in Aramaic is called Bethesda and which is surrounded by five covered colonnades. Here a great number of disabled people used to lie â the blind, the lame, the paralyzed. One who was there had been an invalid for thirty-eight years."
Jesus healed the man who had been sick for 38 years. God's love and His miracles. Bravo. That's exactly what this world needs in this hell.
"Target approaching."
As he thinks about the Bible, a communication comes through his earpiece. It's a report from the overhead surveillance team flying a drone. A roadway that weaves through a grove of mixed trees was approached by Stephen's white Porsche, an elegant luxury car resembling a graceful white swan. Perhaps dozens, hundreds of people may have died to buy that car. Such is the life of a villain.
"Visual on the target vehicle. Secure upon my GO signal," Leon whispered into his radio microphone. Both the earphones and microphone were of a bone conduction type that excelled in noise resistance. It converts vocal cord vibrations transmitted through the skull directly into voice signals. It was a perfect gadget for special operations where one couldn't make loud noises or miss instructions in the midst of noise.Â
The Porsche approached the garage.Â
"GO," Leon said sharply.Â
At that moment, two SUVs that had been hiding in a blind spot by the roadway started their engines like barking dogs and closed in on the Porsche at tremendous speed, trapping it in a pincer movement as planned. The driver of the Porsche was Stephen's secretary, with a bodyguard in the passenger seat and Stephen himself in the back seat.Â
Suddenly trapped from the front and back, they were thrown into confusion. Leon wondered â would the bodyguard or secretary resist? There was no doubt that they were carrying guns. He didn't want to give them unnecessary visibility, but he would deal with it when the time came. The agents jumped out of the trees. In the next moment, Stephen's Porsche exploded.Â
A deafening roar and shock. The high-performance explosive device planted under the car's body lifted the Porsche several meters off the ground, engulfing it in flames. And caught up in it, the DSO's SUVs overturned as well. The window glass of all the cars shattered into tiny pieces, the car bodies twisted and burned the people inside. All six agents from the team on foot, including Leon himself, were blown backwards by the force of the blast. Leon still thinks like heâs floating in the air, an eerie feeling of weightlessness that ended when he felt his body slamming against a tree trunk. In those fleeting moments, his consciousness waned, and it was the closest he had come to death.
Yet, it seemed the Grim Reaper was not yet ready to claim him.Â
Pain, intense and searing, jolted Leonâs awareness back to life, a grunt of pain escaping his lips. Leon struggled to his feet, and he threw up, retching repeatedly. His consciousness ebbed and flowed like waves, and he knew that rest was essential. Leon suspected that his ribs and collarbone were either fractured or cracked, but, fortunately, his arms and legs remained unbroken. Gritting his teeth, he managed to force his dislocated left shoulder joint back into place, enduring the excruciating pain, as he tried to work out which way was up.Â
There are bruises littered across his skin, scratches and abrasions where the bark of the tree tore his flesh. The shock of the explosion and the fear of death⊠an unpleasant feeling of internal organs turning over welled up. No matter how many times he experienced it, he could never get used to the terror of a close-range explosion. The air was knocked from his lungs; his breathing temporarily stopped; his eardrums were about to burst; and his knees were weak. He can barely stand. Leon finally sits up, willing his agent training to give him a sense of urgency even though his body is screaming in agony. The stench of gasoline fills the air, but Leon can barely smell it. His sense of smell and hearing are both almost gone. What the hell happened? Leon asked himself in front of the burning Porsche.
He feels paralyzed.Â
It was three in the morning when your phone started to ring.Â
It was an unknown number, and you had to fight the necessity of hanging up; something inside you told you to pick up the call, which you did. It was Leon, and the way his voice sounded on the phone made you aware that something bad had happened. Terrible, nonetheless. You drove to his location, and you found yourself shocked when you found smoke, fire and the smell of gasoline among a lot of government agents and military personnel. You found Leon sitting in the back of an ambulance, his body covered by a blanket, as he was examined by a paramedic. Not only that, but you had credentials to enter that isolated area, and the way those agents were rushing from one side to the other, talking on their phones, made it clear that someone important had died. You made your way towards Leon, not daring to look around, and when you reached him, you saw tears in his eyes. You hugged him tight, like you were holding the world in your hands.Â
âItâs ok, I got youâ you said to him, your words full of assurance and kindness.Â
Leon refused to be taken to the hospital; instead, he asked you to drive him back home, since he felt he couldnât do it on his own. The ride back to his place was silent, and you decided to respect his space, although you saw him trying to find solace in something real. He couldnât stop playing with his finger, showing an elevated level of stress and anxiety. You have never seen him like this before.Â
âCan you stay?â Leon suddenly asked when you pulled over in front of his house. âI⊠donât want to be aloneâÂ
âYeah, sureâ you nodded, noticing how vulnerable he was, which was odd.Â
You heard him groaning in pain once he got out of your car, but he refused your help, insisting he was fine. Knowing him well at this point, you gently held his hand, offering nothing but your support, and Leon quietly appreciated your effort. You helped him sit on his couch and heard him mutter something only he could understand. Judging by the look on his face and the way his hands were still shaking, you knew he was in shock.Â
âDo you have any first aid kits or something?â you asked him, hoping you would gain his attention.Â
âIâm fineâ Leon replies, his eyes fixated on his shaky hands. You sat next to him, holding his hands and scratching his skin softly.Â
âItâs ok not to be okay." Your voice is almost a whisper as you look into his blue eyes. âYou donât have to be tough all the timeâÂ
You saw him reach the breaking point.Â
Feeling embraced by your kindness and safety, Leon finally allowed himself to feel his emotions â the same ones he fought hard to bury deep inside him â in the same place he swore he would never visit again. In the cozy atmosphere of his living room, having nothing but you as solace, the brunette agent gave himself a break, and when he did that, his eyes started to get watery.
After Raccoon City, Leon shut himself up so he wouldnât be hurt ever again. He used to keep his emotions contained; he used to not think of them. He kept everything bottled up, because he knew he couldnât handle it. Leon was so traumatized that the way he dealt with his feelings was to pretend they didnât exist, in the first place. After Spain, it got worse. Nightmares after nightmares, the paranoia of still being infected with Las Plagas, everything that came after this.Â
But here you are, telling him that it is ok not to be okay, that he doesnât have to be tough, and that it is okay to feel and to be vulnerable. He couldnât stop sobbing; his hands were still shaking, but he didn't even care about this at the moment. Gently, you started to play with his hair, your fingers slowly going up and down on his head, providing comfort and care â exactly what heâs been missing his entire life.Â
âI lost them allâ Leon started to say through sobs. âI saw them deadâÂ
âIt wasnât your faultâ you assured him with calm words.Â
âI failed them," he says as he looks at you, his blue eyes shining with tears as they fall through his skin.Â
âThatâs not true. You didnât know the car was about to explode or whatever happened thereâ You tried to calm him down.Â
âWe were watching him; it was my responsibility to make sure they would be safe⊠it was my job to ensure thatâ Leon sobs again, and you can see heâs struggling to breathe due to his anxiety attack.Â
âListen, youâre too nervous right now. Come on, take a deep breath with meâ you said, hoping he would listen and cope.Â
Leon nods between sobs and takes several deep breaths to try to calm himself down. You took a glass of water and gave it to him, then you took his hand into yours, whispering words of assurance and kindness. You decided to put him to rest, and it wasnât necessary to drag Leon into his bed; the moment you step foot inside his room, you can see how severe his depression is. Successfully, you were able to lay him down and remove at least his boots. Leon curled into his blankets and muffled his sobs with his pillows.Â
âDo you want me to stay here until you fall asleep?â you ask, sitting on his bed with him, moving his hair from his eyes. He nodded silently.Â
Slowly, his sobs turned into sniffs, and Leon finally fell asleep. It took almost an hour to calm him down completely, but now he was safe and sound into a peaceful slumber, or what appears to be. You donât recall exactly when you fell asleep on his bed, but you certainly remember when you woke up to the sound of his screams. Leon never told you about his nightmares, and you werenât expecting that. His chest was drenched in sweat, and he seemed like he couldnât breathe. His eyes were filled with fear, and he was shaking head to toe.Â
âFuckâ Leon mutters, his hand running through his hair.Â
âWhat happened?â you ask him after turning the lights on.Â
âJust a nightmareâŠâ he whispers, trying to calm down again.Â
âHow frequent are they?â It was a bold question, but you needed to know.Â
âEvery nightâ Leon ignores your glance, focusing on his shaky hands again.Â
âHere, drink itâ you give him a glass of water with sugar to calm his nerves. You already had that glass with you the moment you went with him to his room.Â
âDo you even like me?â Leon suddenly asks you.Â
âWhat do you mean?âÂ
âYouâre so kind, beautiful, and young, with so much in your futureâ Leon sighs heavily. âWhy would you be with a⊠broken man like me? I have nothing to offer but traumas and the big baggage of my shitty lifeâÂ
The pressure you put on biting your lip was so intense that it was enough to cut your skin and make it bleed.Â
âWho says you have nothing to offer? I donât think thatâs true. Youâre a wonderful person, Leon. I can see it every day when you come to see me at the store. The way you smile whenever you are around me, the way your eyes shineâŠâ you said to him, hoping it would be enough to give him some comfort. âI donât see you as a broken person or a man with the baggage of a shitty life. I canât imagine what must have happened to you, and I know it must be difficult and hard because that's what I see, but, Leon, the darkness around you doesnât define who you are. Whatever life did to you, it doesn't dictate your present or future."
No matter how many kind words you say, it isnât enough for him. Leon blames himself for what happened, and you know he wonât forget it so soon. How can he? Those men trusted him and followed him, and now, theyâre all dead. Leon thinks he shouldâve saved them, even though he knows he couldnât guess the car was about to explode.Â
âI wish I could heal your soul so you wouldnât suffer anymore, but I canâtâ you sigh, then look at his hand. âI wish I could fight all of your demons, but I canât do that. Iâm here and I donât intend to leave you aloneâÂ
After holding his hand, it was the first night Leon actually slept without any more nightmares. When he woke up the next morning, he felt his eyes heavy and he instantly remembered how he cried the night before after his entire squad was murdered. Then, he also remembered that you were there with him the whole time. Finally, he noticed how strange that feeling was - the feeling of being comforted instead of comforting others. It was a strange feeling indeed, but it was a good one.Â
Lazily, he stood up from his bed and decided to look at himself in the mirror, washing his face and taking a moment to see the collateral damage caused by the bomb. There were a few bruises and cuts on his skin, but huge purple marks on his shoulder, which he dislocated. It still hurts, but itâs enough to keep him in the real world. Heâs still alive. Â
âMorning, princessâ you greeted him in his kitchen. âI made breakfastâÂ
âYou shouldnât worry about that, yâknow?â Leon says, leaning against his cabinet.Â
âToo late for that. Now is my job to worry about yaâ you said, opening the cabinet above your head on tiptoe, which made him smirk. âAre you feeling better?âÂ
âYeah, I guess soâ he says, nodding his head and helping you get the cornflakes. âThank you⊠for sticking up with me last nightâÂ
âYou know I care about you, right? Since day oneâ you glance at him with a warm smile. âI really doâÂ
âI care about you, tooâ Leon blushes slightly. âMore than I can tellâÂ
You know Leon pretty well at this point and you know he has trouble speaking of his feelings. You know he canât express himself properly, and you ainât stupid. You know someone has hurt him before and you understand why he is the way he is. Fortunately, you are very patient, and thatâs enough for now, because you donât mind giving him time and space.Â
âI can look at your wounds; maybe I can helpâ you offered, finishing preparing the breakfast.Â
âThis means I finally earned your secrets?â Leon asks, a small smile on his lips, as he references the conversation you had with him a few months ago.Â
âYou surely did." You nodded, smiling. âLetâs eat first, then Iâll take a look at itâÂ
Leon seemed to enjoy the breakfast you made for him, and, for the first time since you two met, he genuinely seemed happy. However, you knew deep inside he was trying and fighting hard to hide his true feelings; losing his squad certainly shattered him inside, and caused more damage to him than you could ever imagine.Â
Leon is a master when it comes to hiding his feelings. All over the years, Leon had built around himself an impenetrable shell, not allowing anyone to get closer, and all of that because he is scared of being hurt again. However, if the explosion never happened, if his men never died the way they did, Leon wouldnât be pretending heâs fine when you know heâs not. The damage is so intense that youâre afraid he wonât recover. Itâll always be there with him, rotting inside him.Â
You werenât expecting so many wounds all at once, but when he took off his shirt and you saw his bruised skin, you took a deep breath. He had so many marks, so many stories. You wanted to ask, you wanted to know, but Leon wasnât ready to share it yet.Â
âI got this one back in Raccoon Cityâ Leon quietly says, pointing to the scar on his left shoulder. âI got shotâÂ
âHow did this happen?â you decided to ask him as you gently cleaned a few cuts he had. Â
âI was helping a woman named Ada Wong to get a sample of G-Virus, and only a scientist named Annette Birkin had this sample. We were trying to find her and, when we did, she started to shoot Ada. I jumped in front of her, thatâs why I got shotâ Leon sighs, recalling the events that happened in the sewers.Â
âThis Ada seems very important to youâ you smiled at him, cleaning the other cut he had on his neck. Â
âShe was, but it was a long time agoâ Leon avoids your gaze. âNot anymoreâÂ
âShe was the one that hurt you?â you ask him very carefully.Â
Leon didnât answer, but his silence speaks for himself. You can see the extension of the damage and how Leon still struggles to deal with whatever happened between him and Ada. He stays silent, maybe trying to understand how his life turned into this mess. Then, he starts to count every time he was betrayed before until this very moment. His blue irises meet yours and all he feels is⊠peace. Thereâs no inner storms inside him, he feels completely at ease.Â
âIf I ask you a favorâŠâ Leon suddenly says, changing the conversation.Â
âWhat do you need?â you ask him without hesitation.Â
âCould you come with me to the morgue? Thereâs something I need to doâ Leon sighs, preparing himself for whatâs about to happen.Â
âOf course. Iâll tell my parents Iâll go to the store laterâ you nodded, quickly picking up your phone to text them.Â
Leon partially felt guilty, but you were so willing to go with him that he changed his mind after you helped him dress himself â the way he dislocated his shoulder still hurts and he has difficulty with it. You drove to the morgue and judging by the interior of the building, you found out Leon was some sort of agent working for the government. You were able to read the name of the organization. Division of Security Operations.Â
âSo youâre a badass agent, huh?â you ask with enthusiasm as you walk next to him.Â
âI wouldnât say Iâm a badassâ Leon chuckles, still feeling tense.Â
âWell, if you put your neck at stake to save your country, then youâre definitely a badassâ you added, giving him a warm smile.Â
When you both stepped inside the morgue, he reached out for your hand, seeking any support you could give him. The back wall was a box-shaped cold storage room, and a row of dissecting tables lined the spacious room. And on those dissecting tables were numerous body bags. It's a body bag with the DSO logo on it. Do they really need a logo even on something like this? Irony floated within Leon's chest. Are they planning to sell products with the logo on them, like DSO-branded body bags, DSO-logoed cigarette cases, DSO-logoed pass cases...?
He walked between the body bags to the sound of his boots. Unlike normal bodies, the victims of b.o.w - related incidents were usually sent for examination to specialized research institutions. Although this time the cause of death was due to a bomb, not a zombie attack, the instruction from above was to send the bodies to various laboratories, so they followed suit. This DSO branchâs mortuary was a relay point for passing the bodies from the scene to the laboratory, like a baton in a relay race. It wasnât easy to simply bury them in a graveyard. The morgue itself wasnât scary, but the corpses were scary because they stimulated the imagination.Â
âWould they suddenly start moving? Would I end up like this too?â Leon thinks to himself a little bit loud, enough for you to hear him.
âYou wonâtâ you whispered, squeezing his hand to let him know you were there. Â
Watching the corpses closely would cause a moment where the elongated shadows would appear like monsters. However, that was before Raccoon City. He had seen too many moments where the dead came back to life.Â
âIâm not scared of the mortuary anymore; recently, Iâve been thinking about it a lotâ Leon frowned as he moved towards the back while swirling his thoughts. He thought he heard a sound from there minutes before.Â
âWhat do you mean?â you ask him with curiosity as he approaches one of the bags.Â
âI was constantly thinking about death and ending everything. I was depressed and thought I had no hope leftâ Leon confessed, his eyes locked on the body bags in front of him. âBut now⊠I donât think about that anymoreâ
He glances at you, finally. Slowly, his eyes meet your hand while youâre holding him and thereâs a small smile on his lips, then his blue irises find yours again.Â
âI used to be scared of the morgue⊠but coming here with you⊠is something elseâ Leon says next. âI couldnât do this aloneâÂ
âIâm glad I can helpâ you said to him with your usual kindness.Â
But he stops and turns his attention back to the body bags and sighs. His entire demeanor changed and suddenly, he found himself fighting hard to keep doing this. He needed that. He owed his men at least this final goodbye.Â
âWhat kind of adult did I want to become when I was a child?â Leon thinks to himself as he approached one of the body bags.Â
The zipper was slightly open, and the body bag seemed like it was about to move any moment. Itâs common for something that seems like itâs about to move to actually move.
Leon carelessly closed the zipper. Was it because of the sharp sound that, suddenly, another body bag bounced behind him? Inside the body bag, the zombie was wiggling and struggling. It seemed unhappy, as if it had been woken up from a deep sleep by force. Leon pulled out his gun from his holster and squeezed the trigger.Â
âWhat kind of adult did I want to become? I definitely didnât want a life like thisâÂ
V. ACCEPTANCEÂ
After everything that happened with his squad, Leon knew he needed time off of his office. Decided to get his mind off everything and take a break, Leon chose the Rocky Mountains in Colorado as his destination. Instead of going there alone, he thought it would be good to spend more time with you, mostly because he felt safe around you and due to the nature of his job and everything he saw, he needed to feel that safety only you provided him. Â
You had to explain to your parents why you would be going on a vacation, but they understood with no problems; they didnât know about Leon because you were fearing some trouble because of the age gap, so you felt they werenât exactly ready to meet him. How could you explain to them you were apparently dating a man eleven years older than you? It would be one hell of a surprise.Â
It was 9 a.m. in the mountainous area near Rocky Mountain National Park, located in northern Colorado. The national park was about a two-hour drive from the state capital, Denver. Along the way, there were several viewpoints where numerous travelers parked their cars to enjoy the scenic beauty. Even in the mountainous region of the Rockies, the mountains around this area were not exceptionally high. They were just before the tree line, covered with spruce and fir trees on the subalpine slopes. The forest appeared like a beautifully groomed brush, while wildflowers bloomed modestly, sheltered by large rocks.
âThis place is incredibleâ you sound mesmerized by the incredible view from the hotel.Â
âYou havenât been in places like this before?â Leon asks you with curiosity.Â
âI barely leave my houseâ you chuckle, leaving your bag on the bed. âI just work at my parentâs store and go to collegeâÂ
âIt feels like Iâm dating a babyâ Leon chuckles, also leaving his bag next to yours.Â
âWeâre dating, huh?â you teased, taking off your sneakers.Â
âYeah, we areâ Leon nods his head, smiling. âI know I havenât officially asked you, but Iâm too old for thatâÂ
âItâs fine, old man. Iâm just messing with youâ you said, playing with his fingers.Â
âOld man? Now Iâm offendedâ Leon teases back, smiling.Â
âYou said it firstâ you replied to him, your hands reaching his brown hair. âBy the way⊠I have something for youâÂ
Leon glanced at you, frowning. The mischievous smile on your lips immediately told him you were planning something. He sat up on the bed and kept his eyes fixed on you, waiting patiently for whatever you were about to do.Â
âI got you a birthday presentâ you said with enthusiasm, catching him by surprise. âI know Iâm a few days late, but I wanted to give you something for your 37th birthdayâÂ
âYou didnât have toâ Leon whispered in shock as you gave him the small box.Â
He unwrapped the present you gave him and found a beautiful dagger, silver and shining, also pretty sharp. Leon knew immediately that you probably paid a lot on that and he felt bad. He took a deep breath and glanced at you.Â
âThis was very expensive. You shouldnât waste your money with me like thatâ Leon says to you.Â
âItâs a gift. You canât give it backâ you said to him, a hint of playfulness in your voice as you insisted for him to keep it.Â
âThatâs not fairâ Leon complains, laughing softly.Â
âItâs pretty fair to me, thoughâ you said to him, smirking. âItâs just a dagger, not a diamond or something related. I know your job is kind of dangerous and you might need itâÂ
âOkay, you win. Iâll take itâ Leon sighs in defeat. âAbout my job⊠I know I havenât been extremely open about it, butâŠâÂ
âItâs okay, I donât want you to feel forced to share this with me if you donât feel readyâ you stopped him before he could finish his sentence.Â
âI wish I could be more open to youâ Leon glanced at his hands, feeling bad because of that.Â
âStart simple and small. You donât have to tell me absolutely everything at onceâ you placed your hand on his shoulder, petting him.Â
âSimple and small? How could I do that?â Leon frowned at the idea. He always thought it was impossible to open up about his trauma.Â
You pondered for a few moments, thinking about a way to help him talk about his issues in a positive way.Â
âStart with something like⊠why don't you like dogs?â you suggested. A while ago you noticed Leon had a certain aversion to dogs.Â
âI⊠um⊠I was attacked by dogs in Raccoon City. They werenât common dogs, they were infected, something like thatâ Leon found himself surprised by the way he spoke about this issue so easily. âThen, at Spain, I had a few encounters with wolves also infected with a parasite, monstrous thingsâÂ
âSee? That one was pretty easyâ you said, encouraging him to keep talking. âWanna try to say something else?âÂ
Leon thought about your question for minutes; inside his head, everything that has happened to him was like an endless movie. The trauma, the pain and the events that seem to be haunting him to this day. It was hard to pick one, but then, he reminds himself of your words of being simple and small. He takes a deep breath and quietly, he convinces himself that he can do this.Â
âBack at Raccoon City, it was my first day at the force and I was 21 at the timeâ Leon starts, his eyes focused on something else. âI was late, but I think thatâs why Iâm still aliveâÂ
While he was telling you the horrors he saw, you gently placed your hand on his, to let him know youâre there for him. It was a simple and kind gesture, but for him, it meant the world. Leon was only familiar with danger and brutality, so having you by his side providing comfort was enough to penetrate the depth of his former persona. It was enough to rescue the rookie cop buried inside those walls.Â
âAfter that night⊠everything changed. Iâm here because of what I did to survive and Iâm not exactly proud of it. I canât stop blaming myself for my past actions, butâŠâ Leon suddenly stops, taking another deep breath.Â
âYou canât control everything around you, Leon. And not everything that happens to us is our fault. You couldnât know you were going to be stalked and nearly killed on your first day⊠you didn't know that there was a virus outbreak in Raccoon City that nightâŠâ you said to him, placing your hand on his shoulder. âYou need to understand that this isnât your baggage to carry. What happened that day wasnât your faultâÂ
Leon had your words playing on repeat inside his head. Even though he was early in the morning drinking his sorrows away, he was still thinking about what you said. He also felt partially guilty for leaving you asleep in the bed while he was drinking, but the other part of him told you knew him pretty well and you wouldnât be judging him for this. His head was a roller coaster and at this very moment, he wasnât at the top.Â
Leon sat on the first floor of a lodge-style hotel in the rural town. The hotel was two stories tall, made of reinforced concrete, but designed to resemble traditional log construction. There was only one waiter and one chef, making it far from a trendy establishment â a rather run-down place. He was having breakfast in the first-floor restaurant. Though the restaurant wasn't popular, the food was decent. Approaching footsteps came from behind him â two sets of them.
"--To come fully armed to such a peaceful town," Leon said without turning around.
"Leon S. Kennedy, the ace of the DSO, a special agent organization directly under the President of the United States," a voice replied.
Finally, he turned around to see Chris Redfield and Rebecca Chambers standing there.
"Chris and... oh, the renowned expert in biohazard research, Professor Rebecca Chambers. What do you want?" he asked.
"It's work. Cooperate," Chris said in an uncompromising tone.
Chris and Rebecca sat across from him. And it was noticeable that he wore an annoyed expression.Â
"I'm on vacation."Â
"...In the past, while protecting the President's daughter, Ashley Graham, you fought and annihilated the cult group Los Illuminados. They were using special bio-organic weapons called Plagas," Chris said.
"I've forgotten about that old stuff," Leon replied simply.
"Do you plan on loafing around in this town for another week?" Chris asked.
"I don't know what will happen in the future," Leon retorted.
"Beer, please," Rebecca chuckled at the reference to an old movie, while Chris wore an unamused expression.
Leon called over a passing waitress with a casual wave to place his order, but Chris interrupted him.
"Cancel the beer."
"No, it's not canceled."
âCome on⊠what the fuck?!â
"I don't need any more alcohol."
"Cut it out. What's going on?"
"That's my line."
The waitress looked between the two of them suspiciously and before walking away. Eventually, Leon pulled out a flask from his back pocket and took a swig as a substitute for the additional order that couldn't be fulfilled.
"Youâ!" Chris leaned forward.
"Enough, both of you," Rebecca interjected. "--Leon. We apologize for disturbing your vacation. However, we need the information you possess," Rebecca said.
Finally, Leon showed a willingness to listen.
"...What's the situation?" he asked.
Chris and Rebecca had to explain to him what happened earlier at the university. The case was simple. Glenn Arias was a new threat and they needed to stop him at all costs. However, they didnât know how Leon was suffering inside; they couldnât know about the recent events. Leon wearily intertwines his gestures and continues,Â
"Just before I took my vacation... I was involved in a DSO mission in Bethesda to apprehend a treacherous senator who was selling internal information to a bioterrorist organization."Â
The disgusted irritation was evident in his movements, his expression, and his voice.Â
"You know..." Leon begins. "Here's the thing: the informant we used betrayed us. We fell into a trap instead. A massive explosion killed many of my colleagues... and then there was the incident with the resurrection of the corpses you guys were involved in... It's all a mess,"Â
Leon explains, letting out a heavy sigh. It's a sigh that escapes unintentionally, like a burden he carries.
"I had planned to become a police officer in Raccoon City. It was my dream job. But on my first day, there was a massive zombie outbreak, and from there... it never stopped," Leon pauses and shakes his head. "I've been fighting this whole time. There's no end in sight, and it only keeps getting worse. Have I been living just to fight zombies and the people who create them?"
"What are you trying to say? That you don't want to cooperate with us?" Chris asks.
"It's not that..." Leon's tone is uncertain, "Well, maybe it is."
With a hesitant tone, Leon continues
âWhat exactly is our goal? How far do we have to run? Do we have to keep running endlessly? The villains keep coming, one after another, while the good people keep dying. Maybe it's better to lose our minds."
Then, Chris found himself forced to explain to Leon what they were facing. He showed pictures of Cathy White, the agent that was turned into a bio-weapon. And worse, her son she killed. He showed the photos taken during the autopsy and how Glenn turned people into something else purely because of power.Â
"Killing him is the goal," Chris declares.
"That's only your goal, not mine," Leon retorts, his voice filled with resentment.
Tension fills the air between them once again.
"Hey," Rebecca interrupts, breaking the silence just as she did before. "So, Leon, you're exhausted," Rebecca points at Leon and then gestures to Chris. "And Chris, you're frustrated. There's one thing both tired people and irritable people have in common."
"What do we have in common?" Chris asks in response.
They both look at each other with a wide-eyed grin.
"You only think about yourselves," Rebecca replies.Â
"Iâ" Chris tries to interject, but Rebecca continues.Â
"Chris, all you talk about is wanting to kill Glenn Arias. After helping me, you didn't say a single word mourning the sacrifices of our colleagues. Leon, you're acting like a college student in their moratorium period. People get tired of running. But if we stop running, more people will lose their lives."
Rebecca takes out a trigger-activated needleless syringe from her small bag. In front of the bewildered duo, she abruptly presses the syringe against her left forearm and pulls the trigger, causing her blood to collect in the test tube attached to the syringe.
"I'll tell you something important. We're already infected," she says.
"What?" Leon's expression tightens in response.
Rebecca continues speaking in a tone reminiscent of a teacher addressing a poor student.Â
"The truth is, it's difficult to estimate just how many people have been infected by Arias' new virus. The problem is, we don't know the identity of the trigger that activates it."
As she speaks, Rebecca removes the test tube from the syringe and seals it with a cap.
"The virus is activated by something only Arias knows. When that happens, the dead rise, and living humans become bio-weapons."
Rebecca glances lightly at Leon.Â
"If things continue like this, this city will eventually become a living hell. There won't be any safe places."
Leon remains silent, averting his gaze.
"Just so you know, a prototype of the antivirus has been developed," Rebecca says. "It actually worked on me. However, the effectiveness of the antivirus is unstable without knowing the conditions for the activation of Arias' virus. When to administer it and how long it remains effective..."
Rebecca then places the sealed test tube into a small protective case and puts it on the table.Â
"My blood should provide valuable data. If I die, make sure it reaches a reputable research institution that you can trust."
"You're not in danger. We'll protect you," Chris says firmly.
"What?" Leon asks, confused.
"It seems like you're misunderstanding, BSAA soldier," Rebecca lightly dismisses Chris's assumption.
Thereâs a slight smirk on Leonâs lips as he hears that.Â
"The forefront of pandemic response is not the BSAA, but the research field. How many doctors and colleagues do you think I've seen die in conflict-ridden African countries or small Middle Eastern nations used as testing grounds for bio-weapons?" Rebecca questions.
Chris tries to say something in response, but his voice gets stuck in his throat, and only faint breaths escape.
"After I left the team, you two might have fought against plenty of mad scientists. But science can only be countered with science. Unless benevolent technology advances, we will never have a chance of winning. We fight not only for ourselves but for others. Have you both understood at least a little of what I'm saying?" Rebecca asks.
She stands up and adds, "Cool your heads," before leaving her seat.
"She's a great woman," Leon comments.
"We can't handle it on our own," Chris remarks, watching Rebecca leave, and he and Leon exchanged a wry smile.Â
And then, here it comes. The urge to talk about what happened one year ago.Â
"Leon, China was tough," Chris says, referring to that incident.
"Yeah, it was like a zombie version of Black Hawk Down." he nods in response.Â
"At that time, I wanted to quit the BSAA so badly," Chris admits, surprising Leon, "After getting involved with Umbrella, I witnessed too many deaths. We..."Â
Chris trails off. His expression was heavy, as if lead had settled in the depths of his heart. Then Chris realized: Why does it make me so angry to see him like this? He was too much like his old self.
"It makes you want to quit... makes me want to quit," Chris says, emphasizing his point. Leon falls into silence. And Chris delivers the final blow. "But, the moment we quit, all of our subordinates and friends will have died in vain. We are the survivors of Raccoon City. We carry that burden."
Chris falls silent, and the air becomes still. The waitress looks annoyed by the silence. For a few moments, thereâs nothing but the said silence.Â
"Leon, I always thought you were a cheerful guy no matter what," Chris breaks the silence.
"No one is like that," Leon replies, âWell⊠Iâm not. I've always been a stress-tolerant guy. I've been able to do what I've done because of it. But now look back on it. In Tall Oaks, I killed the president.â
"Technically, you had to save the President infected with the virus," Chris quickly adds, trying to provide some context.
âBut,â Leon shakes his head, "But the fact remains that I pulled the trigger, I shot him, and I was even suspected of assassinating the President afterward. Although I managed to clear my name, the mastermind behind that incident turned out to be the President's aide. The DSO was once called the 'Sword of the President,' but now it sounds ironically fitting."
Chris remains silent, attentively listening to Leon's words.
"Chris," Leon continues. "I've returned to active duty, but every time I face the new President, I feel anxious. I can sense his unease as well. The President's aide had sold his soul to B.O.W. terrorism. Who's next? The Secretary of Defense? The Vice President? What's become of the foundation that supports the soldiers in the field? They keep using us, while the higher-ups continue to flounder, grow bloated... They only think about shifting blame onto others."
He pauses for a moment. Thereâs so much pain.Â
Leon furrows his brow and lowers his voice. "Perhaps the reason entities like Umbrella persist is that our society harbors a fundamental evil... I can't help but feel that way now."
Even agreeing with this stupid mission, Leon canât go without saying goodbye. He feels guilty, but the moment he sees you, everything feels completely right. He sat at the bed, watching you perfectly asleep, imagining what kind of dreams you were having. Leon sighs and shakes his head.Â
âHey, sweetheartâ Leon says when he sees you waking up.Â
âHiâ you whisper, rubbing your eyes.Â
âListen⊠something happened and my colleagues need me. Will you be okay here?â he asks you, his thumb trailing your cheek.Â
âWill you come back?â you ask him, sounding a little groggy.Â
âAnd leave my baby girl here all alone? Of course Iâll come backâ he smiles sweetly at you.Â
âOk⊠Iâll be hereâ you nodded your head, closing your eyes to go back to sleep.Â
Something about you made him see, for the first time, the bright side of things. Maybe it was the fact that you were younger than him, and also the fact that you were full of energy - he was just an old and bitter man. But, hey, heâs learning how to cope with every shit that has happened to him.Â
Before you, Leon was ready to die.Â
He was ready to embrace death, he already had made peace with his inner demons. But everything changed when you came into his life. Suddenly, he thought he could live and find happiness and death wasnât in his thoughts anymore. It was like you were able to bring him back from his darkness. He wasnât rotting inside. You were able to rescue him from himself and return the light he needed.Â
But if he thought he wasnât close to death, he was wrong. Leon never thought he would face something like Glenn Arias and come close to death, but he had his job to do. Chris needed his help and Leon finally found closure to something that was weighing on his head; the death of his squad wasnât his fault and he found the real culprit. He found the peace he was desperately looking for. And he was able to see another sunrise and come back to you.Â
It was a repetitive cycle. Leon recently started to wonder if anything he did was futile. That's why he took a vacation and drowned his sorrows in alcohol. It was a kind of protest, perhaps. A protest against the grand concepts of this world and destiny. A statement of "Iâm not going on like this forever, Iâm not going to do it," or something of that sort. But fate was cruel. In the end, human life rarely goes well by one's own choices. Perhaps humans are merely chosen by fate without their consent. Yet, Leon now felt that it was okay like that. Being chosen doesn't make him a hero by default. He becomes a hero reluctantly because he was chosen. And that's fine.Â
The merged form approached Leon with an eerie growl, swinging its massive fist. Leon leaped back to dodge it, and the merged form's punch shattered one of the spires on the rooftop into tiny fragments. It had the destructive power of a construction hammer, with each strike resembling the impact of a tank cannon round. Leon intentionally slid and jumped into the merged form's feet, thinking that at such a large size, close range might become a blind spot. He positioned himself beneath the massive body, lying on his back and firing his handgun. The shots were practically point-blank, but they were still deflected by the hardened muscles and exoskeleton.Â
"Doesn't matter," Leon muttered involuntarily. "I'll do whatever it takes, even if it's futile. Today's a good day to die anyway."
The merged form kicked out.
The enemy's movements were deceptively swift, and Leon was sent flying as if hit by a car. His body tumbled through the air until it finally collided with a gargoyle statue, coming to a stop. The impact was so intense that his breath nearly ceased. However, the merged form continued its pursuit. It threw a straight punch, a blow that would surely result in instant death if landed, but Leon managed to evade it with a jump. Not only did he dodge it, but in mid-air, Leon twisted his body and unleashed a spinning kick. His boot-clad foot connected with the grotesque face of the merged form.
Whether it would have any effect or not didn't matter. This strike was my will. Of course, a kick from a mere human wouldn't have any effect. The merged form retaliated with its opposite hand, grabbing hold of Leon.
"Gah!" A groan escaped Leon's throat involuntarily. The massive fist tightened around him like a vice, and within a few seconds, he felt himself being crushed like a tomato.
"Leon!" Chris emerged from the penthouse.
In his fading consciousness, Leon thought about you. The way you smiled whenever you were with him and the sweet perfume you love to use. The way your hands embrace him at night, helping him sleep safely, without any nightmares to harm him. And then, he doesnât want to die anymore. Please, God, donât let me die this way.Â
Chris picked up the fully automatic handgun that Arias had dropped along the way and unleashed a barrage of bullets at the merged form. For a brief moment, it seemed like the merged form's focus shifted, and its grip loosened slightly, but that was all.
Was my life meant to end here, crushed by this grotesque monster? Leon wondered, his pessimism threatens to shatter him. Leon wasn't the type to easily get this depressed or overthink things too much. Still, he felt more than a little exhausted.
What kind of adult did I want to become when I was a child? I never imagined I would be burdened with the stigma of assassinating a president. At least, I didn't want a life like this â It doesn't matter what I want. There's no such thing as a person who can live the life they desire. Arias must have felt the same way. In the endâŠ
VI. ABSOLUTION
When he came back, you noticed something inside him had changed.Â
After the fight with Arias, Leon noticed that life was much more than death, darkness and depression. At least, he started to think like that when he almost got killed. And his only thought was coming back to you. No, he couldnât die like that and leave you alone. His arm was injured, but he was alive. And he was back.Â
âWhat happened to your arm?â you asked him when you saw him entering the room.Â
âRemember that day in the morgue when you told me I was a badass government agent?â Leon asks you back, sitting on the bed next to you.Â
âYep, I doâ you nodded, starting to massage his tense muscles.Â
âWell⊠Iâm not this kind of agent. I work under the presidentâs orders. I fight bioweapons for a living⊠since that hell in Raccoon Cityâ Leon sighs, finally opening about his job.Â
âBioweapons? Like zombies and shit?â you ask him with curiosity.Â
âWorse than zombies, but yesâ Leon nodded with a slight smirk. âItâs dangerous, and this time I nearly got killed⊠thing is, my job requires a lot of my time, it forces me to not be around for God knows how long. It scares me because I donât know if you can live this chaotic life with meâŠâÂ
âWait, wait, wait⊠slow downâ you held his hand and squeezed it softly. âEveryone deserves a second chance in life, Leon. You were alone for too much time and I donât mind if you need to go somewhere else to fight bioweapons. If this means I get to see these pretty eyes of yours and this sweet smile every time you come home⊠Iâm willing to live this chaotic life with youâÂ
Leon couldnât believe your words. After being deprived of something so human and getting used to it, Leon felt he was about to explode. It was too much for him to handle. At this point, he knew perfectly he was experiencing anxiety. But it was a good one.Â
âI donât want you to get hurt. If we do this, Iâm gonna get you wrapped up in something bad someday⊠and Iâll never forgive myself if this happensâ Leon tells you, sounding extremely worried.
âI know you wonât let anything bad happen to me. And besides, I can take care of myself. I made self defense classesâ you laugh sweetly, a symphony to his ears.Â
âAre you sure?â Leon asks, and those big puppy eyes of his wanting nothing but assurance.
âHoney, if this wasnât true, I wouldnât be hereâ you chuckled, kissing his forehead.Â
After what happened, you decided to introduce Leon to your family as your boyfriend. But before that, you convinced him he needed to improve a little. Getting rid of the alcohol was the first step. He started to see a therapist and work harder on his issues, which influenced a lot of your relationship. He was more happy and willing to do things he and you both liked. One year after that incident with his squad being killed and his mission with his friends, you noticed he was ready to meet your parents.Â
âIâm nervousâ Leon tells you when you both were entering your home.Â
âWhy? Itâs not like weâve been dating secretly for almost three years. Besides, theyâll think youâre cute, donât worryâ you giggled at him.Â
âIâm not so sure about thatâ he muttered, following you inside your parents place.
You could clearly tell how anxious he was. However, he always felt at ease on your side, and it was like you had the power to make him relax, like nothing could harm him and the world was finally at peace. When you stepped inside the house with Leon right behind you for a Christmas dinner, your parents were already expecting both of you.Â
âMom, dad⊠this is Leon. The guy I was talking aboutâ you introduced him to your parents with certain expectations.Â
âYou clearly got my taste for manâ Leon heard your mom whispering to you, which made his cheeks turn red.Â
âSo⊠um⊠how long are you two hanging out?â your dad asked and you glanced quickly at Leon.Â
âThree years, I guess. We met at the storeâ you tell your parents. âI didnât tell you before because Leon has a busy schedule. Heâs not always in town, soâŠâÂ
âWell, moonpie, if youâre happy, weâre happy tooâ your mom says with a gracious smile on her lips.Â
Leon wasnât expecting to be so welcomed into your family, but the fact that your parents treated him so kindly melted his heart. He got himself thinking about the dinner for at least one week, mostly because part of him was still thinking it was weird to receive so much kindness and affection, especially coming from a real family. He wasnât expecting to be playing cards with your dad while you and your mom were in the kitching talking about girlâs stuff, but it was enough to make him see he made the right choice. That it was okay for him to finally experience love.Â
âI like your light brown hair now that you finally stopped dying itâ you said, sitting between his legs in the living room.Â
âMy emo era is overâ he chuckles sweetly, like a melody.Â
âMay it rest in peaceâ you made the signal of the cross. â
âChanging the subject, tomorrow I gotta go to San Francisco. Work stuffâ he says to you, softly kissing your neck.Â
âYeah? Am I getting some gift?â you whisper, feeling the shivers down your spine with his lips against your skin.Â
âDo I ever go on a mission and come back empty handed?â Leon asks you, his soft lips pressing more against your neck and you can feel him softly biting you.Â
The thing is, Leon is like a porcelain doll. He needs to be treated with softness and kindness, because deep down, he is vulnerable. The way his lips met your skin was a clear sign that he was ready for you. He was finally ready to be yours. However, loving Leon also needed patience, and after three years, you could tell he wanted that too.Â
âDo you want to do this before you leave, handsome?â you ask him teasingly, holding his hands as he keeps kissing your neck.Â
âYes, I do,â he nods, almost moaning in your ear.Â
He gently took you to his bedroom, the place was almost a sanctuary for him. He laid you down on his bed and removed his shirt, and this time, he didnât seem ashamed of himself. You stood up from his bed and sat him on the edge, your hands trailing down his skin like he was a roller coaster. He closed his eyes, his breath soft and calm, although he anticipated what was about to happen. Leon craved for you.Â
âIâll take care of youâ you whispered, leaving soft kisses across his neck and chest.Â
You sat gently between his legs, your sweet and soft fingers removing his pants and reaching his already hardened cock. He sat there, observing you with those big and blue puppy eyes, like he was savoring your image. When you took all his length inside your mouth and gently started to suck him, Leon felt he was in heaven. It felt so good, so powerful.Â
Tears started to fall from his eyes and he cried. Not because you were hurting him, dear lord, of course not! It was because he finally felt that he deserved to be loved. Your tongue did an amazing job on his cock and when he came, he felt his body at ease. Leon moaned with the sudden sensation, it was stronger than he last remembered. But it was because of you.Â
âI love youâ he says when you touch his face, wiping his tears.Â
Loving Leon needed patience, you knew that already.Â
However, living with him brought new challenges that you werenât expecting at all. He would be gone for weeks, then he comes back out of nowhere. He always forgets to send you a message to let you know heâs coming back, but thatâs okay, because his lack of patience to deal with technology amuses you. He always sends an emoji out of context, which makes you laugh and you find it very cute when he gets disappointed for misunderstanding those little and yellow faces. Heâs getting there, donât worry about that.Â
When heâs at home, things turn out differently. He always helps you with the chores, likes to tease you whenever youâre cooking his favorite meal and at the end of the day, you two are together on the couch watching some silly movie while he complains about it and softly scratches your leg. Sharing a domestic life was something he never thought he would have, not after everything he went through alone.Â
Now that he's back from whatever he did in San Francisco, you have another job to do. Tend to his injuries. Itâs a small sacrifice to pay whenever he comes back hurt; this time he has purple marks all over his body and face. You donât ask what on earth happened, because you know he canât really give details, but at least heâs safe and sound with you again.Â
âStop moving, old man!â you tell him, trying to clean a small cut he had on his neck.Â
âThat hurts,â Leon replied back, flinching slightly.Â
âI know, but someone has to clean itâ you rolled your eyes, applying a Barbie band-aid on his neck.Â
âPlease, donât tell me I got the Barbie thing on my neckâ Leon closes his eyes, taking a deep breath.Â
âNext time Iâll get you a cat oneâ you wink playfully at him.Â
After so many death experiences and the inner wish of being dead, heâs glad that he found the absolution that he always wanted. He looks at you with amusement, part of him finds it hard to believe that heâs so lucky to have you, but the other part is glad that you are real and you love him for who he really is. You took every damaged part of him and loved with such intensity that it was enough to bring him back from that dark place he was at. He forgave himself, allowed his soul to heal and to be loved. Life had gifted him with the second chance to live, made him see the beautiful things again. You took him in when he was on the lower part of his life, and your love brought him back. He knows heâs getting older, but he doesnât mind spending his days with you, because you are the only thing in his life that makes sense.
And heâs fine with that.Â
#leon s kennedy x reader#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy smut#leon s kennedy x you#leon kennedy x you#leon scott kennedy x reader#leon scott kennedy x you#leon kennedy x reader smut#leon kennedy angst#leon kennedy fluff#leon s kennedy#leon fluff#leon fic#leon kennedy fanfic#leon s kennedy fanfiction#leon s kennedy smut#leon scott kennedy fluff#leon scott kennedy smut#leon kennedy x y/n#leon resident evil#resident evil fanfiction#resident evil x reader#re6 leon#vendetta leon#di leon
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just like - æ â„
#momo icons#twice icons#gg icons#icons#black hair#lq icons#2021#alcohol free era#long hair#radio#hirai momo icons#hirai momo#hirai momo twice#twice hirai momo#momo#twice#twice momo#momo twice#kpop#kpop icons
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hey friends itâs been a long long time but Iâm hoping to start posting again đ hopefully you all are having a lovely day/night!!
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20210620 @ Inkigayo
© GirlGarden18| Do not edit or crop the logo.
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cr. njmsjmdct2 on twt
#twice#twice scans#mina#era; heart shaker#era; dance the night away#era; feel special#era; I CAN'T STOP ME#era; alcohol-free#era; talk that talk
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Now for the 1920s reimagining of Jonathan Crane ! sorry this explanation is even longer lmao
As everyone's been saying, I should do the rest of the Dork Squad to match 1920s Jervis, and so here is my Jonathan! Easily the hardest to draw out of the three-- but I must say! Despite being outside my expertise, I'm a little surprised how much it looks exactly like I was imagining! Even if it took me ages but that's just procrastination lmao.
Anyways! What is his deal? Well, for one, design wise I did go a more drastically different direction from his usual look by doing a literal scareCROW. He's much more bird like, with a plague doctor mask being common imagery in steampunk, but he's still very southern themed with his messy broken overall strap and patchwork coat. Even his wings are rustic. ( he can't fly just glide btw lol ) Also! I leaned hard into the color orange instead of his usual green gas because it..... bugs me that both Crane and Nygma have a bright green in their color palette. I just want them to have distinct colors if they're going to be a trio. And look how vintage halloweeny he looks !!
So why is he so well dressed out of costume? Well! This Jonathan Crane is not a psychologist at all, here he is the very successful grandfather of horror movies in the silent film era. ( An illustrious origin, i hope canon Crane would be proud lmao ). This is referenced in how his face looks, he's wearing white powder and black makeup that's usually meant to emphasize key features on blurry film like his upper lip and around his eyes. And yes, he just keeps his makeup on during most events, and people just accept he's a little on the... eccentric side.
To me, the archetype of the mad artist fits Jonathan's vibe perfectly. When it comes to striking fear, he's a perfectionist, a trait that drove him to learn every single skill necessary himself, from costume design to props to making his own cameras to mechanical engineering, to.... a "fear gas" that was supposed to gently encourage immersion in the audience but ended up becoming a dangerous chemical weapon.
For his origin crime I am thinking !! Full blown Scooby Doo style monster mystery!! With some nuance! Crane, as a first impression, gives off an immediate air of pompous, aggressively impatient, pretentious director type. His presence is big and dramatic, but its distinctly not southern-- in fact, he seems to play up something between a hollywood accent and a thespian one. But this is all to cover for his farm hick background that he was once very ashamed of.
As a child of a failing farmhand during an infamously dry and dusty era, Jonathan developed an extreme resentment for his country existence from both the bullying of other children for all his strange quirks and the severe verbal and physical abuse of his father, driven to alcoholism by the stress of poverty and the loss of his wife. Originally offering his artistic ideas as a means to help them, he grows sick of their closed mindedness and berating and runs away to learn about the emerging potential of film in Gotham City.
Its been many years, Jonathan now in his early 30s, he finds himself surrounded by the shallow, champagne aristocrats that reflect his childhood bullies. Feeling wrong in his own skin, he develops a sightly unhealthy obsession with the escapism he finds in performing as the monsters in his movies.
But upon discovering that the corrupt rich of Gotham plan to push legislation that would negatively effect farmers like his own history, and that they expected him to be amongst those who support it, his irritation with the shallowness of society reaches its limits. In day, he would feign support for their behavior to cover his tracks, but at night he would don the mask of the Scarecrow, rumored to be the vengeful spirit of a farmer who was hanged, and who he believes to be a more freeing expression of himself than his true face, targeting not just the rich but striking fear in their laborers to scare them off land. And it works. So, he tries bending the will of society more.
Is he doing this out of any moral conviction or just spite and a love for the role? It's... hard to say.
As the Scarecrow, his methods are so effective he's near uncatchable, even by Batman. Its only by solving the mystery of who is under the mask are they able to catch him. They surprise him during one of his screenings, jump him in the dark, and prove his subtle use of fear gas in the theater to the police once he's cornered. Instead of being angry, he goes to the mad house applauding Batman's performance.
What an interesting character they play. He's very inspired.
#( anyways uh I hope you like what i came up with ! lol )#batman scarecrow#batman villains#1920s gotham#1920s#1920s Scarecrow#vintage#fanart#dc comics#Jonathan Crane#scarecrow
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