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girlleon · 3 months

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B-E-H-A-V-E, ARREST US! (ITALIAN MOBSTER, LOOKING SO PRECIOUS!)

leon kennedy x fem attorney reader

warnings: unwanted advances, car crash, ummm he breaks into your house… slight misogyny in his internal monologue? ooc leon too. Obsessive behavior if you squint. copious amounts of pet names because he’s on some shit. more unreliable narration. title taken from kill v maim by grimes

an: this was inspired by the courtroom scene in the dark knight sorry hope you enjoy :)

Leon Kennedy looked like he was having the time of his life as he was yanked out of the prison’s bus, smiling smugly as he was led along to the courthouse. Some cops had to push the press out of the way as they tried to shout questions at him, shouting at the press to get back and clear the way. You wouldn’t think a criminal trial would get such a big production, and yet. The head of the Salazar crime family gets caught on RICO charges and the press goes insane.

He doesn’t get a glance at you as he’s ushered in for the first day of cross-examinations, chains around his wrists and ankles jangling.

The presiding judge arrives and all stand before sitting. The charges are read—hundreds of counts of extortion, racketeering, witness intimidation, obstruction of justice, et cetera. Then, he’s brought up to the witness stand. Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God, yadda, yadda. “I do.” He wears that smug smile like the Armani suit he chose today, sitting with a bang of the gavel.

And aren’t you just so cute, in your little skirt suit and button-up shirt. A cutie like you shouldn’t be in a courtroom, you should be in his bed. What a cute little Assistant District Attorney, he should’ve looked you up when he had the time, he didn’t know the DA’s office hired such adorable looking little things.

You look visibly uncertain when you catch him eyeing you up and down, looking back at the big bad DA—Redfield or something—who sits at the table looking extremely unamused. “Please state your full name for the record.” You tell him, thumbing through the little manila folder you’ve got in your hands, heels clicking on the floor.

He leans forward into the microphone with a small smirk. “Leon Scott Kennedy.” He’s not listening to a word you’re saying as you pace in front of him, only clueing in when you look at him expectantly, eyes bright behind your glasses. “Can you repeat the question?”

You look so cute when you frown in irritation, he might just eat you up. “I asked if you can explain the thousand percent exponential increase in your earnings in just one month.” You fiddle with the papers, eyes flicking off to the side. “Exhibit ‘C’ in front of you.”

“Ah.” He looks down and spots the cute little graph, wondering if you made it. “My investments turned out swimmingly.”

“Your investments.” You repeat flatly. Cute little habit you have of parroting him. “Who did you invest with?”

“Oh,” He waves a hand blithely, “a new company, you wouldn’t know them and don’t need to worry your pretty head about it.”

You freeze, not sure what to do as he flirts with you so openly.

The judge gives him an irritated look and says, “I’ll remind the defendant to remain civil.”

Leon shrugs it off, he’s made of iron, he can handle this little bit of pressure, it’s good for him anyway. And he loves a challenge.

You clear your throat a little nervously, leafing through the notes you have. Aw, your little hands are shaking minutely, he bets if he held them, they’d shake more. “This company has no record of existing before those investments.”

Leon blinks. See? The pressure’s good for him. He gives you a slight smile as he recalibrates, linking his hands together in his lap. “Is that so? Then where would it come from?”

“Why don’t you tell the court?” Comes out a little short and his lawyers object on the grounds of it being combative. He watches you count to ten before you calm down enough to nod to the judge when he tells you to tread carefully. “I’ll rephrase: I’m hoping you can tell us.”

Leon leans so close to the microphone that his lips nearly touch it. “I think you mean, you’re hoping I can tell you.”

Your jaw tenses, and that can’t be good for your teeth, a pretty thing like you shouldn’t be so stressed. Unexpectedly, you go with it, shrugging blithely before you say, “Sure.” Your move, is what you really mean.

He grins widely, amused and delighted all at once. “I had my friends do a little digging for me to find a suitable investor for our… money.”

“Uh-huh.” You shift a little, your confidence coming back. “What made you trust this investor?”

He comes to a pause—he hadn’t been expecting that. “What do you mean, counselor?”

You grin just this side of smugly at getting him slightly off kilter. “This investor has no prior portfolio of successes or failures. How could you trust them if you have no background?”

Leon’s chains jingle as he spreads his palms with a shrug. “Investing is risky. And everyone has to start from somewhere, Tesla wasn’t built in a day.”

The jury and gallery murmur before the judge bangs his gavel for silence.

He watches your face harden in annoyance. “A bit of an unnecessary risk, no?”

“Why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free?” He throws out to see you confused, your head cocking at him as your brows furrow. You stare at him for a good few minutes and he can’t resist leaning in with a slight smirk and asking, “Cat got your tongue?”

The judge reminds him again to behave, if he does that again, he’ll be taken to jail in contempt of court. Oh, but that would be fun, wouldn’t it? It’d be an inconvenience for him, but to see the little look on your face as he’s walked away… he’ll keep that in mind.

You clear your throat and he watches you swallow, throat bobbing. “What made you choose to throw your lot in with a company that didn’t exist before the very month before your earnings increased?” He can practically see you telling him to dig a hole, any hole.

Leon shrugs. “Gut feeling. And my friends had given me good things from them.”

“How come their investments never showed up in their portfolio?” He watches you try to contain your glee. You’re too cute when you’re trying not to look too happy and remain professional, he bets if you won—which you won’t, he’s made sure of that—you’d be skipping down the courthouse steps.

Leon pauses for a long while, eyeing you as he considers all the possible answers—I never asked, why don’t you ask them, it was under the table—before he settles on, “My mistake, counselor, I’ll clarify: I’d meant that my friends had heard good things about them through the grapevine.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.” You say, eyes narrowing slightly. “I’ll repeat myself: that company—CAPCOM Industries—doesn’t have a prior portfolio of investments, good or bad. How could they have heard good things if there’s no previous work, if they don’t even exist before the month when your earnings went up?”

The defense objects on the basis of badgering, which the judge overrules.

Damn, you’re good, and foxy in all the ways that can be meant. Which leaves him with one option. He smirks and leans into the microphone, maintaining eye contact for a stilted amount of time. Eventually, he says, “I plead the fifth.”

Oh, beautiful. You couldn’t have given him a better reaction. Your jaw drops open and you stare at him for a long while as he sits back against the witness chair.

He’s cross-examined for a few hours before you’re all adjourned for a two hour long recess.

Cross examinations go on for five more days before closing statements come, this trial having gone on for a month at this time.

Defense goes first, blathering mindlessly about how Leon has a right to spend and earn his money how he chooses, on and on. He tunes it out, more interested in watching you pull your silly looking peacoat off and hang it over the back of the chair, dressed in a cute little button up and slacks set, your hair gathered at the back of your head. How cute, he bets they’d look cuter on his floor. Corny, but he had to use it.

Oh, the DA’s making you give the closing statement. That’s just cruel, you’re just a little creature and should be protected. To him, it just looks like a little girl trying to walk in daddy’s shoes.

You get up and shift around the edge of the prosecution’s table, your notes in hand. Wow, you really fill out those black slacks so well, he’ll have to thank whatever God is out there for building you like that.

He tunes in when you say: “You all have had the chance to hear many things over these past few weeks.” Your hands shake slightly, cue cards creasing at the corners. “That Leon Kennedy is being wrongfully prosecuted, that we have no right to poke into a man’s business and how he makes his money.”

He watches you pace in front of the jury, loafers whispering on the floor. That’s a shame, he likes you in heels, really makes your legs look long.

“You also have heard testimonies about how police have been hindered from doing their very jobs for fear of one bogeyman. You’ve heard testimonies of people he’s sold drugs to in front of NA meetings. On and on.” He watches you turn around and meet his eyes, tongue darting over your lower lip. He swallows when he sees that, stomach flipping. That’s embarrassing, he’s a grown man, he doesn’t get butterflies.

“When you take all that away though, all that remains is one man, this man.” You turn back around and point at him behind you. “No man is above the law, especially not one who terrorizes our city. We must take it back from him. Thank you, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, for your time.”

The judge waves a hand and the bailiff takes Leon out of the courtroom to wait out the verdict in his jail cell. He maintains eye contact with you the entire time he’s dragged out of the courtroom, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth.

The next day, all parties are brought to court to hear that the jury is deliberating. The next day, the same. The day after that and the day after that are the same. The entire next week, the jury is still sequestered and deliberating.

Until you wake up one day, a pit in your stomach as you dress for court and wade through the paparazzi and news outlets on your way into the courthouse.

All rise as the judge presiding enters, all remaining standing when the jury spokesperson finally answers the judge. “We’re deadlocked, your honor.” She says solemnly, “We’ve been deadlocked for weeks, nobody will budge.”

Your stomach drops all the way down to mingle with your intestines, your knuckles blanching at your side.

The judge sighs and looks down. “Then I’ve no choice but to declare the state of New York versus Leon S. Kennedy a mistrial. Thank you, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, for your time. Case dismissed.” He bangs the gavel with a sense of finality.

Poor baby, you look a little like you have to sit down when you hear that. Leon shakes the hands of his lawyers, smiling like the cat that got the canary before he looks over at you.

Even worse, you can’t retry him with these charges because it’d qualify as double jeopardy. The bailiff contemptuously uncuffs him and he rubs his wrists, watching you stand there with your mouth agape, looking positively destroyed at not being able to put him behind bars. He bets you look just a little like that after being fucked silly.

Jeez, little thing, you don’t need to look so damn sad about it, he’s sure he’ll slip up at some point and you can have your fun with trying to prosecute him and igniting your little cat-and-mouse-game.

He makes a point of waggling his fingers at you as he walks by. “Don’t be so sad, cupcake.” Leon says blithely, sauntering out of the courtroom like he owns the damn place. “Better luck next time.” He calls out, a smug laugh echoing off the marble as he walks away, the doors shutting behind him firmly.

You’re at the DA’s office for the rest of the day, trying to get the files in order for the archives because a lawyer’s office is a little like a church—you never get rid of anything that may be important, no matter how old it may be.

You’re in there for a long while before you go out to the parking garage around two thirty in the afternoon, your car flanked with paps. It takes a while until they let you go, having to lay on the horn until they scramble out of the way and you’re free to go. You’re most of the way home when you notice a black SUV following you. Your hands flex on the wheel as you speed up just a little, taking a right turn to test your suspicions.

They follow.

Could be just a fluke. You take another right turn.

They follow again.

Could be another fluke and really awkward, anybody ever tell you that you’re paranoid? You take a third, then fourth right turn, the SUV following you the entire time.

Okay, so you’re not paranoid, and you’re being followed. You take every almost legal action you can, too caught up in the SUV behind you to note the SUV aiming right for you on your left.

The cars collide and your air bags go off, knocking you unconscious and giving you a bloody nose. Thank God you’re not awake, otherwise, you’d notice that the driver gets out of the car to see how you’re faring before speeding off.

You come to when the paramedics are there and trying to stabilize you, your neck in that stupid looking brace as they ask you questions you already know the answer to, hauling your sorry ass into the ambulance after gathering your bag and hightailing it to the nearest hospital.

You’re given two of morphine as you’re kept alive long enough for them to cart you to the hospital. You’re in and out of it as the EMTs give the hospital the details of you being t-boned, loss of consciousness at the scene, pupils equal and active, and so on and so forth. The doctor asks for your name and you give it a little sluggishly, but correctly. They work on you in a trauma room, x-raying and suturing up the cuts on your face, feeling for any fractures on your nose and eyes and any abdominal discomfort.

When they deem you lucky you weren’t hurt further, you ask if they can take off that ridiculous neck brace—you’ve gotta fight them for it, but they acquiesce because you’re so good at arguing your case. When you’re taken to a hospital room to wait for the cops, you call your secretary and update her on the situation.

Are you okay? No. You rather liked that stupid car.

No, like, physically. Yeah, you somehow only got away with a couple cuts, bruises, a mild concussion, et cetera.

Are you safe? Probably.

Do you need anything? A change of clothes and something greasy in the morning, they want to keep you overnight for monitoring.

I’ll get some flowers for you! And a card! No thanks, that’s not necessary, the pollen makes your ears itch.

The police eventually make their way up and you give your statement, more and more irritated when they see it fit to try and interrogate you when you’re not under arrest, but that’s cops for you.

You have a fitful sleep because those lights are always on and your bedroom is usually kept dark, you like honoring your circadian rhythm. Which is why you’re awake at seven when you receive a call from an unknown number.

“This is the assistant district attorney speaking.” Your voice is a little scratchy from lack of water, you have to turn and clear your throat.

He chuckles on the other end of the line, the sound making you freeze. “Did I interrupt your beauty sleep, counselor?”

You straighten up. “How did you get this number?”

“I have my ways.” Leon replies casually, “How are you feeling?”

“Shitty.” Mild concussion, one major cut and two minor cuts on your face, a minorly broken nose and bruised ribs and sternum, but you’re fine.

He laughs on the other end of the line, warm and… affectionate? “Such language so early in the morning.” He tuts, his sheets rustling as he shifts.

You grind your teeth and count to five before you respond, holding your phone so tight you think you hear the case creak. “You hit me with a car.”

He scoffs, shifting his grip on his phone. “I certainly did not.”

“Then you had your underlings do it.”

He laughs again and you almost want to throw your phone. “You’re sharp.” Indirect confirmation, this entire conversation is inadmissible in court. Motherfucker. “I like you, you know.”

You pause, anger momentarily dissipating. “What?”

“I like you.” You can damn near hear his smile.

You pause for long enough that he wonders if the line went dead. When he checks, his phone still has that timer counting how long you two have been on the phone: edging onto five minutes. He waits for a little longer, eventually starting to feel uncertain when you repeat, “You like me.”

He laughs, just slightly tinged with relief. “Yeah. So? Is that so hard to believe?”

Coming from the man who arranged for you to be in a car accident? Yes, absolutely. “Yes.” You say shortly, eyes wandering around your hospital room. “Absolutely.”

He tuts on the other end of the line, more rustling coming through as he shifts and gets out of bed. You never would’ve taken him for an early riser, you thought he was the sort of guy to laze around until the last possible moment—but then again, you’ve known a lot of drug dealers in your time and not all of them were lazy. Dealing drugs, apparently, requires a lot of hard work, regardless of whether it’s street operations or organized crime like Leon fucking Kennedy makes most of his money. “That’s a shame, I was hoping I could take you out.”

And apparently, he has a fondness for double entendres, you just know he’s holding back a cackle. But even onions have layers.

“Not happening.” You feel immensely satisfied when he pauses this time, holding back a smirk of your own.

“May I ask why not?” He asks eventually, voice carefully level. You get the feeling that he’s never been rejected before.

You pause in turn this time, befuddled as to why he’s even asking why not. There’s many things: he’s evil, you’re on opposite sides of the law, you don’t even like him one bit, it’s a conflict of interest—“You know why.”

“No,” He says firmly, surprising you. Okay, maybe you can see why he became the Don. “I want to hear it in your own words. Why not?”

It’s your turn to pause, staring at your phone as the seconds tick by. “You’re a mob boss. Why would I want to go out with you?”

“Why don’t you?” He presses, voice hardening before he reminds himself that he catches more honeys with fly, rather than vinegar, or whatever the stupid saying is.

You hang up on him and put your phone on do not disturb when he calls you back. You’ve got a caffeine headache and a concussion headache and it’s too fucking early to deal with this bullshit. Your secretary finally gets over here around eight thirty with a change of clothes hanging from her arm and a bag of appropriately greasy food and a coffee for you. She pauses in the doorway when she sees you, brows furrowing in concern. “Jesus. You look like you got hit by a car.”

You frown at her, setting the clothes at your feet when she comes closer, passing you everything you asked for. Food gets eaten and burnt coffee gets drank first, grimacing with every sip. You can’t change yet, still hooked up to all these monitors. A doctor comes in at nine-oh-five sharp, flipping through your chart before he asks the perfunctory questions and declares you safe to go home—gotta love the American medical system. A nurse unhooks you from the monitors and gently drags the IV needle out of your vein, giving you privacy to change.

You’re summarily sent home with a concussion care sheet and strict orders not to return to work for two weeks. You’ll stay home for a week at absolute maximum, but it’s the thought that counts. You and your secretary take her car to your apartment because yours is totaled and you argue with your insurance most of the way there. When you get out, she stops you with a gentle grab of your wrist. “Are you sure you don’t want me to come up with you?” She asks, teeth digging into her lower lip.

“I’m a big girl.” You snort, gently removing your wrist from her hold. “You left the key in the right place, right?”

“Yeah…” She says reluctantly, left leg bouncing.

“Okay, then. See you in a week.” You get out of the car the rest of the way and she calls back, “Two weeks!” Before speeding off. You make your way to the apartment building—one of the most secure in the city—and buzz yourself in, walking through the lobby and garnering a few stares as you walk over to the elevator and press the button for your floor. You lean against the wall for support, pressing a hand to your aching head.

You sigh once you’re inside your penthouse, toeing off your shoes and hanging your bag on a hook by the door, trudging to your room and collapsing on your bed. It takes you three days of medical leave for you to become officially restless, you hold out for the next four days before you come in on Monday to your desk covered in Get well soon! Bouquets. You pause and stare at it, then note a giant teddy bear holding a heart that reads: You’re bear-y cute!

No note for the flowers or teddy bear, but you know who they came from.

You have a normal month of work, discarding the bouquets Leon sends every damn day. Just how much money is he throwing away trying to woo you? Eh, just a penny in the bucket; when you were gathering evidence for that RICO case against him, you saw how much he made in a month, easily your yearly salary.

You come home from a long day—your office is litigating another for a miscarriage of justice, you haven’t come home in days—sighing as you hang your coat and bag up, freezing when you hear a gun clicking. “A little cliche, isn’t it?” You move a little slower as you toe off your shoes, kicking them over by the shoe rack. “The click of a gun as a greeting, I mean.”

Leon laughs, then puts the safety back on the gun, setting it on your coffee table. “Why not have a little theatre in your life?” He eyes you as you turn on the lights, revealing you, consummate professional in your adorable looking slacks and button-up shirt. “Anybody ever tell you that you fill those out really nicely?” He says, eyes on your thighs and ass as you walk over to the kitchen.

You grunt in disgust, pulling your hair down from where it was gathered at the top of your head. “How did you get in?” You ask as you fill up a glass with tap water. Really, you’d rather go for a mixed drink or some wine, but you don’t trust him enough to drink in front of him. This is really just the horseshit icing on the bullshit cake, to be honest.

“Pfft.” Leon waves a hand. “Key on top of the door. You should’ve moved it after your assistant came and got you clothes the day you got out of the hospital.” He shifts, long legs crossing. “How are you feeling, by the way?”

“Better.” You say shortly, keeping space and the counter between you two. “It’s amazing that I wasn’t more hurt.” You walked around with a butterfly bruise across your nose for a while and the DA had to keep you out of court until it cleared up, but you’re fine.

He smirks, pink mouth pulling up and to the side. “Yes, quite a miraculous thing.” He sighs and gets up, buttoning his suit. Is that what he thinks real people dress like? Jesus.

“I find that I rather like you alive, not dead.” He says conversationally, looking over at you and really taking the chance to drink you in, brows twitching together when he sees how tired you look.

That’s not how you’re supposed to look, you’re supposed to look bright-eyed and bushy-tailed and all excited. “You look tired, bunny.” He tells you, leaning against the table.

You stare at him for a while, head cocked to the side. “Work.”

“Ah.” He kisses his teeth, eyeing you up and down shamelessly. “There are easier ways to make money, sweetheart.”

“I love my job.”

He laughs, soft and deep. You shift a little from foot to foot, nails tapping against the counter.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, babydoll.” He waves a hand and watches you bristle, shoulders stiffening and drawing up. “You can’t offer a guest a drink? I’m parched.”

You frown at him. “Guests are invited in. You broke in.”

He leans over and swipes the half full cup from you and turns it so his mouth can touch the imprint of lipstick you left behind. “No sign of forced entry.”

You’re a little too shocked to say or do anything. “Because you used the key.” You watch his throat bob with a swallow.

“Tomato, tomato.” He sets the cup down and gives you a debonair smile. “Anyway, counselor, I thought it’d been a while since we talked.”

You stare at him for a while. “And you can’t get yourself arrested instead?”

He laughs a little louder and your hands fist on the countertop. He strolls to your door and opens it up. “Where’s the fun in that? Get some sleep, counselor.” He calls out, door shutting behind him and rattling the pictures on the walls.

You wouldn’t think it after seeing him on the witness stand, but he’s got a dramatic streak the size of you.

Leon smirks when he sees you walk over to the holding cells, an unexpectedly stern look on your face. “We’ve got to stop meeting like this, cutie.” He drawls, head cocking as he looks you up and down, eyebrows raising.

“So you took my advice about getting yourself arrested.” You fold your arms and lean against the wall.

He gives a dashing—and a little smug—smile, eyes flicking up from where they ogle your chest. “And you can prosecute me again, I love watching you work.” He stands up from the bench, wandering over to the bars. He leans forward, hands wrapping around two as his head cocks, still grinning like a fat cat who got the canary.

You don’t move from where you’re leaned against the wall. “You’d be wasting the court’s time over a speeding ticket. The DA doesn’t take those cases.”

“Ah, not a speeding ticket, beautiful.” He uses pet names so easily. He leans in as if to tell a secret—you lean in too, straightening up slightly. “What if I’d said I turned myself in?”

Your stomach drops. “I’d say that you’re a liar.”

“Ouch, counselor.” His smirk remains on his face. “I’m many things, including a bogeyman, but I don’t lie.”

Your face warms. He really remembers your closing statement? You’ve had two cases every month since then. “Legally, financial fraud counts as lying. False advertisement, for another.”

He scoffs, blue eyes rolling before he shakes his head at you. “Where’s your sense of fun?”

You were just joking, but telling him that takes all the fun out of it. “Why turn yourself in?”

“Easy, counselor.” His—clean, warm, smooth—hands flex around the bars. “I’m not on the stand yet.”

“I’m not examining you.”

His dimples show, eyebrows jumping up as he stares at you like you put the stars in the sky. “Touché.”

You can’t prosecute him anyway because of a legal hiccup; somehow, you think he meant for that to happen, to walk into the police station, knowingly not be read his rights and to confess anyway, thus violating his third or fourth amendment, that parts not your deal, it’s the stupid cowboy cop’s fault.

You’re there, trying to do a good impression of disappointment as the judge informs everyone that the case is dropped, yet again putting these charges—and all he admitted to—inadmissible under, yet again, double jeopardy.

Leon, for his part, looks pleasantly surprised, then a little quizzical as his cuffs are unlocked and he’s set free. He catches you by the arm after lurking by the door for you to come out, dragging you to an alcove. “I was read my rights.” He tells you, blond brows furrowed as he boxes you in.

“Were you?” You ask innocently, head cocking like a confused puppy—Leon almost wants to kiss you for it. “It wasn’t on the recording of the procedures.”

He stares at you; you watch him with interest as the cogs turn behind his eyes. Understanding clicks in place and you pat his chest twice.

“I’ll see you next time, cupcake.” You tell him, close to skipping away, you’re so giddy. He watches your hips sway as you walk away, lower lip between his teeth before a smirk crawls across his face. He walks away whistling, scuffing his dress shoes on the floor.

#resident evil #leon x reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x you #mine

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lipglossanon · 1 year

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The Darkest, Most Depraved of Joys

»»————-　★　————-««

{next installment}

Stepbro!Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ so minors DNI, stepcest, bully Leon, perv Leon, reader is a bit sassier in this so heads up I guess lol, dirty talk, slight somnophilia, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, strong breeding kink, leaning heavy into the stepcest kink so for real be prepared haha, uhh I think that’s it 🤔

Not proofread; literally banged this out in a few hours this morning 🤣

Title from Monologue by She Wants Revenge

Shoutout to all you lovely readers 😘 😘

»»————-　★　————-««

It’s been a few months since your mom remarried some businessman from the city who decided small town life was more his speed. Everything’s going smoothly for the most part. The only exception to your idyllic home life is the absolute terror that is now your stepbrother. Leon is the bane of your existence. He’s older by a few years and he lords it over you every second he gets. And he’s such a jerk to you.

It’s not overt bullying cause Leon doesn’t want to get in trouble, but away from prying eyes he likes to pick on you. He tugs your hair or steals whatever you have in your hand and, just in general, behaves like a complete asshole. What drives you even more crazy is he acts like a complete angel around your mom and his dad so you can’t even say anything or else get scolded.

Your mom laughs and says he’s joking, but it leaves you fuming— especially since you also find Leon ‘the asshole’ Kennedy extremely attractive. Life is so unfair. You’re sick of his bossy attitude and his stupid good looks.

Because of the utter dismissal of your mom, you’ve taken to jotting down your thoughts in a journal. A diary. Whatever.

At first it was to vent about what asinine thing Leon had done to you that day. Him purposefully taking your favorite seat on the couch so you’d have to sit in the recliner. Leon throwing his leg out just as you walk by, sending you stumbling into the wall and him smirking at your angry scowl. Volunteering you when your parents asks for suggestions on who should do dishes or the laundry.

He always seems to follow you randomly throughout the day, taunting you about your choice of wardrobe or how you try to one up him or, sadly, how single you still are. You spin around to argue with him but he just breezes past you, shoving your shoulder as he heads back to his room.

The list goes on and on. But then the venting in your journal starts to meld into a mix of how good he smells (sandalwood and vanilla) and how pretty his hair is even on those overcast drizzly days where it’s more rain than sky outside. Or how nice his arms and hands look doing something so simple as setting the table.

At some point even those diary entries devolve into how hot it would be if maybe Leon got a little physical. Maybe pushing you against the wall when no one’s looking and kisses you until you can’t breathe. Maybe he’d drag you into an empty room and convince you to give him a handy. Maybe even corral you into sucking him off or coaxing you into letting him eat you out until you cry.

After writing some of these you realize that maybe you’re a little more pent up than you thought, but then promptly shrug it off. It’s not like you’re hurting anyone.

Until one Saturday afternoon that is; you think you’re all alone and as you set your journal on your dresser, it’s yanked out of your hands.

Leon stands to your side making you realize the house is empty save you two, and dangling your diary full of unspeakable thoughts just out of your reach.

“Give it back,” you grit out, feeling that familiar rage creeping into your posture.

“Aww, upset sweetheart?” he mocks you, “I’ve always wondered what goes on in that pretty little head of yours.”

“Leon, I’m being serious, give it back.”

He smirks holding the diary up higher as you reach out on your tippy toes, hand going to his shoulder for stability.

“Nah, don’t think I will,” he presses his index and middle finger to your forehead and pushes you until you have to step back or lose your balance and fall.

“Fuck off asshole,” your voice raises, “that’s private shit. Private? I’m sure even you understand what that means”

His smirk drops and his brow furrows in irritation, “Are you insinuating I’m stupid, princess?”

You give him a sickly sweet smile, “Oh a multi syllable word? That’s a big one for ya,” you simper up at him, “do you need to sit down?”

He glares at you before a slow grin spreads across his face making your heartbeat fast.

“Well maybe some light reading might strengthen my vocabulary,” he shakes the book in his hand.

You jump up and try to make a last ditch effort in grabbing it, but he swings his arm up and out of the way.

He clicks his tongue, “Manners, sweetheart.”

You stomp your foot, “God you’re such a dickhead! Give it back!”

He sighs, “Alright,” and goes to hand it back but then yanks it away at the last minute and takes off to his room.

“I’ll have it back to you later! Thanks, princess!!”

You yell at his disappearing figure, feeling rage and embarrassment warring in your chest. Following him, you slam your fists against his locked door. After a few minutes of getting nowhere, you slowly shuffle back into your room. You might as well go dig a hole and lie in it cause anything would be better than Leon reading that damn journal.

You morosely flop face first down onto your bed. You scream into the pillow before rolling over onto your back to stare up at the glow in the dark stars that have been stuck to your ceiling since you were seven. Maybe he won’t read it all. It did start out as a hate journal so maybe after the first few entries he’ll get tired and quit reading. God you hoped so.

Sighing, you raise up and scrub your face until you feel a little less like you want to jump out a window. You scroll mindlessly on your phone, keeping an ear out for any noise coming from Leon’s room. Giving up after a few minutes, you heave a sigh and get out of your bed and make your way next door to Leon’s room.

Rapping your knuckles on the wood, you call out, “Leon, can you give me my diary back, please? I’ll.. do your chores or something.”

You hear the click of the lock being undone and the door swings inward.

“All of my chores?” he crosses his arms and props his shoulder on the doorframe, smirking at you.

You roll your eyes at how stupidly hot he’s being, but bite back your sarcasm, “Yes, all of them. Can I please have my book?”

You feel a spark of something when his eyes drag down your body and back up to your face. Leon grins at you as he straightens up from the doorframe.

Flicking your forehead, he steps back into his room, “Okay, princess. Come in and get your book and then I want you to do something for me.”

You bite your lip to stifle any complaint and rub your head as you step further into his room.

It’s similar to your own, a bed and dresser with a side door that leads to a closet. You frown to yourself; it is pretty sparse considering all the posters and photos you have tacked up on your walls.

You snap out of your thoughts when Leon waves the diary in front of your face.

“You good?”

Blinking, you scowl up at him and grab the book.

“Now I am; what do you want?”

He pouts at you mockingly, “Aww you don’t want to know what I thought about such riveting writing?”

Your heart rabbits in your chest and your palms tingle.

“You didn’t really read it, did you?”

You know your voice wavers and the mocking look on Leon’s face morphs into a sly grin.

“Don’t worry your undying hate for me will remain close to the chest,” he ruffles your hair, “after the first few pages of it, I quit reading.”

“Oh,” you duck your head and chew on your bottom lip.

Looking up again, you give him a shy smile, “Thanks, Leon.”

He stops ruffling your hair and drags his hand down to the side of your neck. He rubs his thumb over the column of your throat.

“I wouldn’t thank me just yet, sweetheart,” he presses you to step backwards until your back is touching the door.

You put your hands up on his broad chest, still clasping your diary, “W-what’re you—“

“Think this was about 20 pages in, right?” he muses, blue eyes darkening as he dips his head down to be closer to you.

The hand not gripping your neck comes up to cup your jaw, tilting your head back.

“Just let me,” he breathes out, the motion causing his lips to brush up against yours.

Your eyelashes flutter closed as he presses a searing kiss to your parted lips. He groans and kisses you harder, his body pressing yours against the door completely. You try to push him away but to no avail; his strength outmatches yours easily.

Leon moves his hands down to grab your hips, holding you still while he molds himself against you. Your hands are trapped between your chests. You can feel his dick beginning to chub in his sweats.

"Damn," he murmurs as he pulls away, grinding against you.

A soft gasp passes your lips, which he zeroes in on. Leon presses against you more firmly before slotting your mouths together. You try to push against him but can feel your resolve weakening under the constant barrage of wet, tongue filled kisses. Arousal pulses in your clit with every wet press of his mouth.

You’re finally able to pull away from his hungry mouth.

“What’re we even doing?” you gasp as his mouth finds a sweet spot on your neck.

“Just trying to make my little sis’s dirty dreams come true,” he snarks, before taking your mouth once again.

You moan, letting yourself be swept up in the sensations Leon’s bringing out in your body.

He kisses you slow and deep, tongues tasting each other before pulling away to suck on your bottom lip. He slides a hand along your thigh, caressing softly as his fingers drift closer to the apex of your thighs. You’re so wet already just from kissing him. You cant your hips towards him and his fingers brush against the zipper on your jeans.

A loud door slam pulls you both apart; you hear your mom call your name from downstairs.

Leon tugs you away from the door and into his chest. He spins you around and pulls the door open for you.

“We’ll be picking this up later, ‘kay princess?”

He smacks your ass as you cross the threshold back into the hall. You whirl around but he’s already closed the door in your face. You look down at the diary in your hand, glaring at the inanimate object.

“Unbelievable,” you mutter out loud.

Walking to your room, you toss the book onto your bed and head downstairs to meet up with your mom.

:::::::::::

The rest of the afternoon passes by pretty quickly. Luckily for you, Leon keeps to himself so you don’t see much of him until dinner. Your mom is very adamant about having dinner together as a family.

“It builds those familial bonds, honey,” she pats your cheek when you try to weasel out of it.

So here you are, sitting across from Leon, trying to eat with him staring a hole into you. When you reach for your glass to take a sip, you raise your eyebrows at him.

He smirks at you then glances at your parents; seeing that they’re not paying attention to you two, he brings his hand up to his mouth and makes a ‘V’ with his fingers and thrusts his tongue between them a few times.

You press your thighs together and glare at him. You flip him off and that’s when your mom gasps.

“No vulgar displays at the table!”

You shoot her a disbelieving look, “What? But he started it!”

“Well, that goes for both of you then,” your stepdad cuts in, “behave you two.”

You take a deep breathe and let it out slowly.

Leon laughs, “Just joking around, dad.”

Your mom smiles at him, “I’m so glad you two get along so well.”

Leon catches your eye and gives you the fakest smile, “Of course, that’s what a big brother’s for, right?”

You roll your eyes and go back to your plate.

Pushing around the food, you look over at your mom, “May I be excused?”

“Sure, honey. Just take your dishes into the kitchen.”

Nodding, you gather up everything and head into the kitchen. You scrape what food is left off in the trash and set the dishes in the sink.

You feel a line of heat press against your back, pushing your hips into the countertop. You see Leon’s hands on either side of you, holding onto the counter’s edge; his thick biceps flex as he ducks down to mouth at your neck.

“So mean to me, princess.”

Goosebumps race across your neck and down your arms from his moist breath on the shell of your ear.

“What would they think of you wanting me to stick my cock in your wet little pussy and stretch you out, hmm?”

A bolt of heat flares in your stomach, nipples hardening as you stifle a whine.

“Leon,” you whisper, “shut up, you’re gonna get us in trouble.”

He chuckles into your neck and drops a kiss on your jaw.

“What? It’s the truth; your little diary will just confirm it.”

You press back against him trying to get him to move but he just pushes against you harder, grinding his half hard dick against your ass.

“Don’t be that way,” he coos, one hand slipping from the counter to cup your hot pussy.

You gasp and toss your head back, “We’re gonna get caught.”

“So?” his voice is low and rough in your ear, “don’t want me to play with this needy cunt? C’mon baby thought that’s what you wanted?”

Using the last of your self control, you elbow him in the ribs and duck around his lax arm. You run from the kitchen to the stairs, aiming to lock yourself in your bedroom. You make it to the upper landing before Leon wraps his arms around your waist.

You squeal when he jerks you back to his hard chest.

“You little brat,” he hisses, “I’m gonna—“

“No roughhousing near the stairs,” his dad calls out from the bottom, looking up at you two.

Leon gives him a sheepish smile and drops his hold on you, “Of course, pops.”

You take this distraction for what it is and rush off to your room, shutting and locking the door. Listening, you hear Leon pause outside your door.

He lightly taps the wood, “This isn’t over, sweetheart.”

You shiver, feeling hot at those words. You hear him make his way over to his room and shut the door. Walking over, you collapse down onto your bed with a sigh. What have you gotten yourself into?

Later in the evening, you make your way to the bathroom to brush your teeth and get ready for bed. When you return to your room, it slips your mind to lock your door for the night. Tiredly, you slip under your cool sheets and drift off.

You’re slowly coming to, still half asleep. You question what woke you up and right as your about to be pulled back under, you feel a pair of hands caressing and pinching your nipples over your thin sleep shirt.

“So pretty. Pretty girl don’t even know what you do to me. These fuckin tits just begging me to play with’em.”

You hear a low voice muttering next to you. You struggle to remember who else would even be here but that’s wiped from your mind as the hands keep teasing and tugging your sensitive buds.

“God I wanna suck’em. Leave bruises all over you.”

Leon your mind supplies. You forgot to lock your door earlier.

“Always walking around the house wearing those little outfits. Practically begging me to just bend you over and fuck you til you can’t think.”

You feel a warm hand smooth up your ribs before cupping one of your breasts while the other softly pinches your nipples.

“Wha-“ you groggily reach a hand back to the body behind you.

“Shh, princess,” his low voice rumbles in your ear, “let me make you feel good.”

You sigh out in response and let him snake his other hand underneath the side you’re laying on to grope your other breast. Your nipples harden to the gentle strokes of his fingers circling the sensitive buds.

You arch your hips back to grind against the bulge pressing into your ass. Your pussy starts to leak slick into your panties.

He groans aloud and slips his hands underneath your shirt to glide fingertips across heated skin. You sluggishly shrug out of the shirt with his help. Immediately afterwards, he grabs each breast in his hands and squeezes, the fat dimpling between his fingers.

“Fuck, that’s— you’re so good,” he presses wet, open mouthed kisses on your neck and shoulder before scraping his teeth along your shoulder blade.

“C’mon, roll over for me, sweetheart.”

Your eyes are heavy with sleep but you can blearily make out his dark eyes as they drink in your half naked body.

“Gonna let me eat this pretty pussy, baby?”

You’re so tired you can only let out a low whine.

“I know, sucha sweet girl when you wanna be,” he kisses your cheek then your lips, dipping his tongue into your mouth for a quick taste before pulling away to lie between your spread legs.

He eases your panties down your legs and tosses them to the floor. You can feel how wet you are when the cool air of the room hits your pussy.

“Can’t believe you wrote all that shit down where anyone can read it,” he eyes your leaking slit hungrily before meeting your gaze with blown out pupils, “fuckin made me so hard, baby.“

“Leon,” you whisper, voice cracking in pleasure, “‘m sorry.”

He presses soft kisses to your thighs, bypassing where you most want his mouth, laying soft open mouthed kisses to your hips and lower abdomen.

“Why’re you apologizing? I think it’s hot that y’need your big brother to take care of this sopping wet pussy,” his hands are softly running up your legs, massaging the skin randomly.

“We can’t,” you whisper, pressing your hands against his head to keep him from moving, “it’s dirty. And plus don’t you have a girlfriend?”

He growls at you, “So? I’ll dump her tomorrow once I have a taste of this sweet little cunt. And it might be dirty but doesn’t it get you wet, princess? I read all about your filthy thoughts of me eating you out.”

He grins at you from between your thighs, eyes hungry, “You can even be my new girlfriend.”

Leon finally presses his lips to your mound, “And now I’m gonna eat out my girl’s pussy.”

You sigh out in pleasure as he places sloppy kisses to your clit over and over making your legs twitch. Your hands come down to tangle in his messy hair.

“Leon,” you moan, “please.”

Ignoring your urging to go lower, he laves his tongue across your pussy lips. He pulls back just to press his pouty mouth softly against the hood of your clit making you arch your hips upward with a moan.

His tongue darts out to lap at your sensitive bud before trailing down to your leaking hole. He teases his tongue around the entrance, dipping inside briefly, before pulling away to messily kiss your clit. Your thigh muscles jump underneath the palm of his broad hands. He continues to drag his lips across your aching clit, giving it soft kisses repeatedly.

“Fuck, so good,” you squeeze your eyes shut, “please Leon I need more than just kisses.”

“Nah,” his eyes darken even further, lips ticked into a mean smile, “just wanna give my girl’s pretty pussy lotsa love. She only needs my kisses.”

He presses another sloppy, spit filled kiss onto your swollen clit.

You whine pitifully, “Such a tease.”

“Oh I’m the tease?” He pulls away from your slick cunt leaving you gasping out in disagreement, “You’ve been teasing me for the longest time, princess. Wearing those slutty shorts, showing off those fucking thighs of yours.”

He shucks his sleep wear off until he’s only in his boxers. You can see a prominent wet spot where the head of his dick has been pressing against the fabric. You whine again, hands scrabbling at his forearms.

“‘m sorry Leon. I’ll be good, promise,” you pull on his arms, trying to make him move up closer, “I didn’t mean to tease.”

“I bet you didn’t,” his voice is rough, deeper than you’ve heard before, “those flimsy little tops showing me your hard fucking nipples.”

You watch as that mean expression comes back into his face. His thumb presses down on your swollen clit making you gasp in pleasure.

“But I guess that’s what slutty little sisters do to their big brothers, huh? You were just trying to get me hard so I can fuck you good later, right?”

You feel tears pooling in your waterline.

“Leon,” you hiccup, “please.”

His expression softens.

“Hey don’t worry,” he moves up to cage your head between his forearms, bent so your faces are nearly pressed together, “I’m gonna take care of you.”

You keep eye contact as you ask, “Really?”

“Yeah,” he gives you a soft look. “Gonna make you feel good.”

You bite your lip and run your hands through his hair, “Yeah? Gonna show me stepbrother’s big cock?”

“Fucking hell,” his hips grind down onto yours. You feel the scratchy material of his boxers press against your wet cunt as the heat of his cock drags across your pussy lips.

“I’m gonna fuck you hard, baby. Hope you’re ready for it,” he kisses you, thrusting his tongue into your open mouth.

Leon presses you on your back; he brings your knees up to your chest and pushes you down into the bed as he drags his thick cock across your sensitive clit.

You look down and watch as his hand wraps around his dick, pulling back the foreskin to smack at your clit and leaky hole.

“Think I’ll fit, princess?”

He’s so big but that just makes you arch your hips up, angling to get his tip to slide into your clenching hole.

“I don’t know,” you whisper, eyes watching as he glides his cock through your wet folds to tap your clit again.

“Guess we’re about to find out,” he grins.

You both moan when he presses the fat tip inside and sinks into your tight, wet cunt.

He gives you a second to adjust before pulling halfway out to slide back in your hot pussy.

“Fuck,” you pant.

Your hole stretches to accommodate the thick cock fucking into you.

“That’s it,” Leon’s raspy voice washes over your ears, “you can take it.”

You whine, “Too big.”

Your hands claw at the sheets, trying to gain purchase. Your cunt drips slick all over the bed while Leon stretches you.. filling you up so good. Sweat begins to bead up around your hairline making your hair stick to your skin.

You can’t stop clenching down on the thick length spearing you open.

“Please move,” you choke out, lifting your head to peer up at Leon’s dark stare.

“You can use your manners,” he chuckles, “aren’t you full of surprises.”

Your eyes flutter as Leon pulls out to slowly slide back in. You moan unabashedly as you’re fucked slow and deep.

“Please, please,” you chant, “so good. Feels so good.”

Leon’s hands grip your hips, fingertips digging in, “Don’t you make a pretty sight. Such a lovely hole.”

You whine as arousal pulses through you at those words.

“Please, I want more.”

“Yeah?”

“Please,” you mewl, as his thumb starts to circle your clit.

“Mmm so fucking sweet,” he moans, using one hand to hold your hips down and the other pinches and strokes your clit.

“Gonna breed this pretty little cunt,” Leon grunts as he thrusts harder into your pussy walls clamping down onto his thick cock.

“Leon,” you moan out, nails biting into his shoulders.

He grins down at you, “Yeah you like that sweetheart? Yeah you do. Want me to put a fat load deep in this tight pussy.”

Punched out moans are all you can manage as his hips piston harder into you, the wet squelching between your thighs getting louder.

“Shit so fuckin good f’me,” Leon hikes your legs up higher onto his shoulders, “gonna cum in you baby. S’what big brothers do, right?”

“What?” You choke out, feeling the tip of Leon’s dick nail that spongy spot inside you repeatedly.

“Yeah, wouldn’t dream about coming in my girlfriend, but you? My little sister? It’s the only thing to do,” his mouth drops hot, tongue filled kisses on your bite covered neck.

“Ohh,” you keen high in your throat, feeling your walls squeezing onto Leon even harder. Just the thought of him cumming inside you has your clit throbbing.

“Baby fuck yeah only wanna cum in you,” Leon slurrs, “you’ll let me right? Let your big brother fill you up? Show you how much I care.”

“Yes yes yes. Please! Want it so bad Leon.”

You’re drooling from how good he’s fucking your pussy. His fat cock bullies into your cunt on every thrust, spreading you open and filling you up.

“So wet and tight," he grits out, voice rough.

You toss your head back in pleasure, "Fuck, Leon. Your cock feels so good."

You can’t stop your hips from meeting each one of his powerful thrusts. Your pussy clenches around his dick like a vice.

He moans, "That's it, take it, such a sweet girl."

"More, please,” you pant, pushing sweaty hair away from your face.

He bottoms out in your cunt to kiss you sloppily.

“You on some kinda birth control, princess?”

You are, but a dark pulse of arousal makes you want to see what he’d do if you said no.

So, you shake your head no, “I’m not on any.”

His hips stutter and buck deeper into your squelching pussy.

“Fuck,” he’s panting, pupils blown, “really? Fucking hell. I need to—“

He moans and grinds so deep you can feel his tip kiss your cervix.

“S’okay that I don’t pull out?” He slips his cock out and slams back into your pussy, making your eyes roll back.

“But you gotta promise me not to get pregnant, yeah? Otherwise I can’t cum all in this needy little pussy. Promise me, baby and I’ll give you a nice creampie.”

Whining, your nails scratch and claw at his shoulders as Leon rails you into the bed; your bed frame is rattling and the mattress squeaking. You’ve never been more grateful your parents slept on the complete opposite side of the house.

“Promise, promise,” you gasp out.

“Hmm yeah, okay then baby. I’ll fuck you raw and cum in this little pussy. God damn,” he groans, thrusting harder, “fuck, don’t even care if I knock you up. So fucking hot.”

He fingers pick up their speed, flicking and pinching your clit as he hammers into that spongy spot in your pussy.

“I-I’m gonna cum. Leon, you’re gonna make me cum,” you mewl.

“Yeah gonna cum on your big brother’s cock?” He kisses you, tongue fucking into your mouth.

“Uh huh, yeah gonna cum all over my big brothers cock,” you whine, “oh fuck, Leon! You’re gonna have to cover my mouth.”

He grins down at you, hips pistoning harder into your pussy.

“Gonna get loud, baby? Fuck that’s so hot. C’mon cum all over my cock.”

Your eyes roll back as your thighs shake with the force of your orgasm. Leon clamps a hand over your mouth as you scream, pussy gushing and clenching around his hard cock.

“That’s it, fuck me, princess. Best pussy I’ve ever had,” he groans, “gonna cum, gonna cream this little cunt.”

He bites down on your shoulder as his dick buries itself deep in your pussy. Your still clenching walls milk his cock until you can’t feel his cum spilling inside anymore.

“God damn,” he pulls back from your neck, “sorry bout the bruise, sweetheart.”

You roll your eyes, “S’fine.”

He slips out of your cunt with a low hiss. Greedily, he watches as his cum drips out onto the sheets.

“Mmm so hot, baby,” he rubs the cum into your pussy lips, “do I need to get you the morning after pill?”

You laugh at him, “No, I’m on birth control.”

You laugh even harder at his scandalized expression.

“You serious?”

You nod, still giggling, “Yeah.”

He huffs a laugh and cages you in against your bed; he gives you the filthiest kiss and when he pulls away there’s a string of saliva connecting your lips.

“Fucking tease,” he drags his half hard cock over your sensitive pussy, “just means I can cum in you as much as I want though, princess.”

You moan and pull him into another hungry kiss. The kisses turn wet and sloppy, spit dripping down your chins as he sucks on your tongue.

He pulls back to take in your hazy eyes, “Give me a few and we can go again.”

You run your hands through his messy hair, “Mmm sounds good to me.”

#Stepbro!leon s kennedy #Stepbro Leon S Kennedy #Stepbro!leon #Stepbro!leon s kennedy x fem!reader #Stepbro!leon s kennedy x you #Stepcest #leon s kennedy smut #leon s Kennedy x fem!reader #Fem!reader #resident evil smut #lipglossanon

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writingwisterias · 2 months

Text

Blossom

Bestfriend! Leon Kennedy x AFAB! Reader

Words: 3.8k Warnings: Smut 18+, Praise Kink, Overstimulation, Unprotected sex, Friends to Lovers, Cheating (not Leon or Reader) Summary: Alone and running away from a bar where your boyfriend cheated on you. You call Leon whom you haven't spoken to in months to seek comfort and end up finding it in more ways than you expected..

Masterlist

Hope you enjoy my first fic, my requests are open. Check my page for a list of characters I will write for ~ Mads <3

The rain was loud against the hood of your coat; the once peaceful sound that would comfort you as you slept, would now haunt you as you ran away from the bar. You didn't know where you were - you were quite literally running away from your problems. The once peaceful life you had made for yourself was now shattered by one too many drinks; ruined by one stupid pub quiz night. Your boyfriend was caught locking lips with your sister at the bar, his smile brighter than any smile he ever gave to you. Her smug glare was one you would never forget as she looked over her shoulder at the argument unfolding between the two of you. You felt small.. Used. Weak. The entire bar watched on with smiles and laughter as you were humiliated by your own family. “What are you doing?” you whimpered at him. God you felt so pathetic, the tears brimming in your eyes as you looked at the man you sacrificed so much for. “I didn't mean to…baby I'm so sorry” he lied, he grimaced at his own lie. Like the words hurt him to say only now he had been found out. He chased you down the road from the bar until eventually he gave up, you weren't coming back. Not that he cared.

Eventually you came across a bench; deciding you had enough distance from your problems, you sat down ignoring the large puddle of water that had collected on the seat. Your clothes were already soaked through, so what difference would sitting there make now. You had nowhere to go. You couldn’t go home of course, it was a home you both shared. He would be there, probably with your sister, now they didn't have anything to hide anymore. Your fingers fumbled through your bag in search of your phone. A loud sigh left your lips as the frustration began to set in, the rain water made it harder to work your phone screen. As you scrolled desperately for someone to call, one dopey smile warmed your heart as you hovered over the call button. Leon, your best friend for many years, who you hadn't seen in so long. Your boyfriend was constantly jealous of him, ironically because he worried you would leave him for Leon, due to how close the two of you were. Would he even pick up? Would he be home? The decision wasn't yours to make, as the water droplets on the screen pressed the button for you, the dial tone loudly rang out scaring you slightly. “Just this one call”, you thought. That's all you would do, there’ll be someplace else to go if he didn’t answer..

“Hello?”

His voice was rough as he croaked out the words. You immediately panicked thinking you woke him up, your internal monologue stopped you from answering him.

“Hello? Who is this?” He said, his tone became sharper, probing for an answer.

“Leon?” you whimpered, your hand covering your mouth trying to keep the emotions that were threatening to spill out now you had heard his comforting voice. Your name left his lips in a whisper, as if he was shocked to have heard from you at all, clearly not expecting the sudden contact after months of ghosting him.

“What's wrong? Where are you?” He questioned, you could hear his old lamp flicker on in the background, the duvet rustling as he sat up.

“I don't know where…I just ran”

“Just ran? Ran from where? Do you need me to come and get you? Are you okay?”

His concern was too much, the emotions swirling around in your brain like you were drunk. “I’m on a bench, by the pier I think...I’m really not sure. I’m so sorry Leon, I woke you up-”

“It’s fine, I promise, I'm on my way. Just don’t move I’ll try to find you” the words left his mouth so easily, like second nature. He didn't care what time it was, he didn't care you hadn't spoken to him in weeks. He only cared about getting you to safety. “Leon?” you whimpered…”Can you bring a towel, I don't want to get your car wet”

“Don’t tell me you fell in the pier?” he joked, you let out a small chuckle in response. It was weak, barely audible yet he still somehow bought it out of you, even as your world was falling apart. The perfect life you imagined with you and your boyfriend crumbling into a forgotten fairytale, yet he still managed to make you smile. “I’ll be there as soon as I can, okay?” You could hear the car door slam through the speaker, before he hung up.

The street lamps and cars passing reflected on the never ending darkness of the ocean, the waves crashing gently despite the thunderous rainstorm around you. You were left alone with the rage you felt towards your boyfriend and sister. How long has this been going on? How could she do a thing like that to you? How come you never saw it, could you have stopped this? You were drowning in questions; theorizing how they could have gotten the chance to know each other better, to have the kiss look so passionate and freeing for them both. Were you really that bad of a partner to him? Why weren't you enough? The thoughts poisoned your mind, the cloud of overthinking swirling around what little sanity you had left. Your phone began to vibrate, ripping you back to reality. Your phone glowed with his name, the light hurting your eyes as you stared at his contact, at the stream of texts from him trying to apologize and track you down. You wouldn't respond - You wanted him to panic. You hoped he would worry about you all night, steeped in regret, sleepless in your bed. But he was the one who stopped running after you. He chose to turn back to the bar. Back to her.

In the sorrowful storm of your mind, tires screech from behind you, the slam of the car door pulling you back to a familiar silhouette. One you could instantly recognize from any lineup. “Leon?” you whimpered, standing up. Your body ached with cold, the clothing heavy on your frame as you stood there shaking, waiting for him to react. You expected him to walk away when he saw what a mess his old friend was, but instead he walked towards you; His shoes splashed hastily through the puddles that were in his way. “What happened?” he asked, as his arms encased you in a tight hug. You just shook your head, your body trembled as you leaned into his arms craving the warmth and comfort that he provided.

He didn't speak again, pulling away to lead you towards his jeep, opening the door for you, helping you inside. He threw a blanket around your shoulders before he closed the door, running to his side of the car. You brought the fabric to your nose, his scent lingered on it comforting you further. “Your place?” he questioned - even if he hated taking you back to that place, he would if you needed it. But you shook your head, a quiver in your lips as you turned to look out at your reflection on the window. He watched you intently, trying to piece together in his mind what the next best step was. He then nodded silently, and started the car, the faint sound of his rock music filled the silence. “What did he do?” He questioned nervously, his body tensed, preparing for the reply. “My sister”

Well he wasn't expecting that, his brain running 100 mph to come up with some kind of response. If he was this shocked, he couldn't even imagine the thoughts that plagued you right now. “I’m not sure how long it's been going on but you should have seen how at peace they looked with each other. He’s never looked at me like he looked at her.” you said, wiping your face with the blanket removing the rain from your cheeks, frowning at the mascara that transferred onto it. “Fucking assholes the both of them” he swore under his breath. You finally looked over at him, the street lamps illuminating the soft curves of his face, his brows furrowed together as he sat heavy in thought. Was he always this pretty? Had he always smelled this good? Perhaps it had just been far too long for you to remember all the intricate details of him.

The familiar outline of his building slowly came into view, somewhere you had been so often, so casually, but right now it meant so much more. He pulled into his parking space before hopping out of the car to help you get out. You smiled as he pulled the blanket closer around your frame, draping it over your head slightly to prevent you from getting any wetter. He led you instead with his hand on the small of your back, the weight of him there felt different to your boyfriend. It felt protective, not possessive.

“Sorry about the mess” he muttered as he opened the door, ushering you inside to safety. The apartment looked the same as you had remembered it. The interior matched Leon’s personality well, a plethora of small trinkets littered the shelves, the muted colours gave him a relaxing environment to return to after his hellish workdays. There were clothes screwed up in the corner by his work bag, coffee cups and plates still in the sink patiently waiting to be washed. You perched on the edge of the sofa, taking in your surroundings, reminiscing about the times he would walk you through all his possessions, describing each adventure and trip they were from. He watched you scanning the shelves, his eyes saddened as you began to shrink on yourself. “Can I get you anything?” he asked gently. You shook your head, your words were trapped in your mouth, you were too afraid to speak in fear of breaking down again. Leon didn’t need you to say anything, he just moved to sit next to you. His body was there for you to lean on if you needed it. He waited for you to gather yourself, no urgency, just like he had always done for you. Your body eventually sagged towards his side, he wordlessly lifted his arm enticing you into his warmth.

“What did I do wrong Leon? Was I not good enough?” as soon as the words left your mouth, you could feel the gates of pent up despair fly open. The tears had begun to flow like rivers, waves of emotions that you had held for so long ran free throughout your body. He shushed you, placing a kiss at the crown of your head, trying to stifle his anger toward the man who made you this way. Toward the people in your life who made you feel worthless; toward those who took you away from him when it was you who lit up his world. “You didn’t do anything wrong, you're perfect” he whispered into your hair, pulling you closer to him, his own clothes becoming damper from yours. “Then why would they do that? Why did they betray me?”

He failed to muster up an answer, he truly didn’t know why anyone would want to hurt you. How they could make you feel so little about yourself, how they encouraged these derogatory thoughts in your head. He tucked you under his arm, pressing you against his chest in support. “I feel so small, I feel so used” you whimpered, the small sobs you let out broke his heart each and every time he heard them. He pulled away slightly, lifting your chin with his fore-finger to look at your face, the backs of his hands wiping away the tears still forming in the corners of your eyes.

“You're so special to me. Everything I do, everything I endure. I do it for you.”

“But I haven’t spoken to you in months” you spoke as the guilt slowly seeped in.

Leon shook his head, a soft smile placed on his lips as he looked at you. “I knew you wouldn’t have just stopped talking to me, I still fought knowing the work I was doing would keep you safe, that you would get to be happy even if you weren’t in contact with me.”

His smile was so soft, his expression was so warm and caring. “Why?” the question left your lips before you could process if you were ready for the answer. An answer you always craved but never knew if you could accept if it was anything different than what you secretly hoped for.

He paused, questioning whether telling you now in your darkest hour was truly the right thing to do; it was, not just for you, but for him too. “You're the best thing in my life, the escape I always needed. I would spend a lifetime undoing whatever poison he’s injected into your head, I will show you that I care and I will always care, that you are worth something. You deserve so much more than those two could ever give you”

Your hand was warm against his face as you brought him closer, your lips ghosted his in hesitation. Your breath was a silent invitation for him to close the gap, to allow something light and new to blossom. His eyes scanned your face, hunting for any sign of regret. You had enough of waiting and closed the gap, your lips crashed against his in a gentle and passionate kiss. Leon groaned into the kiss, his arms wrapping around you holding your body close to him. “Are you sure you want this? You just got cheated on...it’s late”

“It feels right, I want this Leon. He chose her. And now I choose you.”

He shook his head, trying not to smirk, leaning to kiss you again, his hands groping the swell of your ass lifting you further into his lap. With that he lifted you up, walking you through his apartment nibbling along your neck taking in the sweet whines that left your lips. He laid you on the bed, the crumpled duvet was engulfed in his scent. He helped peel off your wet shirt before leaving sloppy kisses all over your chest. His hands sprawled out on your waist pulling you closer to him. His hips grinded against your lower half, you let out unstoppable whimpers as your wet jeans rubbed against your clit.

“Such pretty sounds from such a pretty girl” he mumbled against your skin as his hands worked on removing your bra. He groaned at the sight of your breasts, the nipples pebbling at the cold air. Leon's lips brought one of your nipples into his mouth, his tongue circling the sensitive nub. His hand moved up to the other breast lightly groping it. Your chest heaved into his mouth causing Leon to let out a loud groan as they lightly pressed against his nose causing him to lose his breath. Leon let go of your nipple with a pop, his lips returning to yours with a deep kiss. His tongue swiped against your bottom lip silently begging for access, which you granted him eagerly. Whilst you were distracted with the taste of him, his fingers toyed with the button of your jeans. Once they had managed to get through, he pulled away smirking as he pulled the fabric down your legs in a single jolt. Your thighs flushed red from the cold, wet clothes that Leon had finally freed you from. Leon’s hands ran down your legs before pulling them apart and slotting himself in between.

He felt your fingers gingerly grasp the hem of his shirt. “Seems a bit unfair” you smirked at him. Leon chuckled deeply before pulling the shirt over his head, stepping away slightly so he could get rid of his jeans as well. He quickly returned, capturing your lips again as his finger teased your clothed pussy. His cock twitched against your thigh as he felt the dampness that lingered there. His fingers moved the fabric, swiping against your slit gathering evidence of your arousal. He pulled back examining his fingers in the soft glow of his lamp. A smirk placed on his lips as he looked you in the eye and brought the digits to his mouth. Leon let out a loud groan at the taste, the sweetness of you was better than anything he had ever tasted before.

You writhed against his thigh, craving any ounce of friction on your throbbing core. He chuckled again and flexed his thigh as he watched you pathetically rub against him, your wet panties causing his hairs to curl as you left your mark. He could feel your thrusts weaken as you got closer, almost tempted to bring you to a stop, but that wasn’t his goal tonight. Tonight he wanted you to chase your own pleasure, become so cock drunk on him that you forget about what happened before. He wanted you to never even think about your ex again. His hands gripped your hips helping you thrust as well as pulling you closer to add more pressure to your clothed entrance. He groaned as he felt the fabric become so thick with your arousal, but he wouldn’t remove them yet, he wouldn’t dare to stop you when you were so close to your climax.

Instead he lent down and captured your breast again, his teeth nibbling at the flesh leaving small marks around the sensitive bud. Your moans increased in volume, he couldn’t wait to hear the sounds you would create when he finally sunk into you. Your hands gripped at his forearms, nails leaving crescent shapes in the flesh. You whimpered loudly, his name leaving your lips along with curses as you finally met your climax. He felt your pussy flutter, the poor thing clenching around nothing. Leon let you have your moment of bliss, removing his lips from your breast and capturing your lips instead. His fingers teased the waistband of your underwear and slowly peeled them away. The cold air hitting your wetness causes you to let out a high pitched whine. “Please leon-” you begged. Who was he to deny you what you wanted, his cock ached in its own clothed prison. He kissed you again when he finally released himself. Leon’s cock hung heavy against your thigh, the tip glistening with the pre cum.

Your eyes widened at the girth and length of him, he was so big. You felt the pressure of him at your entrance, gathering up the remains of your orgasm to help lube his dick. Leon whimpered as he sucked at the nape of your neck to muting his moans. Your fingers scraped his back as you finally felt him enter you fully, the burn of the stretch soon turning into pleasure as your walls welcomed him inside. Leon’s hands found yours, holding them as he sheathed himself fully. Your fingers entwined as your bodies connected, his thrusts slow and deep as you got used to his size. “You feel devine” he groaned in your ear, his hands squeezing yours as he gave you another deep thrust. Your walls fluttered around him, the muscles drawing him in further, holding him deep inside you. His compliments caused you to hide in his neck, a warm feeling began to swell into your chest. He let go of one of your hands and directed your face back to where he could see it.

“Oh my pretty girl has gone all shy, come on baby don’t hide from me now” he whispered. His lips leaving delicate kisses along your cheeks as his thrusts began to increase. He leant back watching as your tits bounce as he drove his cock into at an increased speed and depth. His hands moved so he could grip your hips to pull them closer to him. The new angle allowed him to drive his cock deeper, and deeper, his veins started to hit your g- spot causing you to grip and tug at the sheets beneath you.

Leon watched as your thighs began to twitch under his touch, the muscles tensing as you drew closer to another orgasm. Your eyes began to tear up, a few stray ones escaping and ran down your flushed cheeks. Leon could feel his own finish coming closer, his balls tightened as he prepared to spill his load deep into your walls, coating them with himself as a final attempt to get rid of any evidence of that dickhead you claimed to love before. Leon groaned your name as he moved his fingers towards your clit to draw small circles around the sensitive nub to stimulate you further. Your breath caught in your throat a silent scream leaving your lips as you orgasmed. Your body tensed up and then flopped in Leon's arms. He thrusted through your oversensitive state, his own finish too close for him to care. Leon grabbed at your thighs, hoisting them over his shoulders as he drove himself deeper inside of you. You cried at his depth, he loved it, getting lost in your pretty little sounds, the way your velvet walls still brought him in closer despite the overstimulation he was clearly giving you. His hips sputtered as he finally spilled his seed into you. The sounds of your heavy breaths filled the room, both of you searching each other's faces to confirm there were no regrets.

Leon pulled himself out of you slowly, lowering your legs from his shoulders and gave you space as you recollected yourself. “I’m sorry, I don’t want you to think that I am taking advantage of you” he said nervously. You sat up against his headboard watching him. “I don’t think that Leon. I didn’t even think you would pick up, I’m sorry I listened to him and cut contact with you”

The words hung heavy in the room, the two of you not wanting to overstep anymore boundaries. You wondered if your boyfriend thought like this after he was with your sister for the first time. “I don’t want to lose you Leon, if you don’t want to leave me either”

“Never, you have me for as long as you need me”

Leon stood up, putting his boxers back on before finding a pair for you along with one of his shirts. After you changed you lifted the sheets inviting him in. Once he laid down you got comfy, cuddling into him, he smiled down at your frame. “I could get used to this” he smirked, kissing the top of your head, his arms wrapping around you protectively shielding you away for just a little while. It was from then on that you felt it, finally something good to hold on to as you faced whatever happened came tomorrow.

#resident evil x reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader

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mandalhoerian · 1 year

Note

Since requests are open, can you write please some Leon x gn!reader fluff free angst? Also love ur writing, you're doing amazing job ❤️

~🐸

red herring | leon kennedy x reader

pairing: leon kennedy x gn!reader, leon kennedy x ada wong genre: angst, no spice, hurt no comfort we die like luis word count: 2k summary: you thought ada to be the red herring, when in reality, it was you. notes: hope this is what you had in mind! i wrote this in one day so i apologize for the quality 😭

🌀 read on ao3!

The helicopter’s rotor blades are slicing the air in an ear-deafening force of noise, the wind awakened in the wake slashing at your face, but Ada, and everything about her is unaffected. You had no idea how her saunter was graceful as a feline as usual, the click of her heels rhythmic and not at all imbalanced from having to walk against the heavy current of air. Among the maelstrom of noise, her voice is clear as a bell. “Ride’s here… You coming?”

Directed at Leon, of course. You, and Ashley watching over the scene, hidden somewhere, are not a part of this. These two were in their own world.

“I think we both know this… is where—”

You cut Leon’s dramatic monologue off, fed up with everything. “You go with her.”

Leon glances at you, his piercing blue eyes reflecting a mixture of surprise and concern. The chaos around you seems to fade into the background as he is unable to look away from how done with this you are.

The helicopter's roaring engine makes it difficult to hear, but you can still make out the urgency in his voice. "What the hell are you talking about?" he shouts over the noise, his tone filled with a tinge of outraged worry.

You nod, your determination unyielding. "I got Ashley. Just go with her. We’ll meet at the rendezvous point before extraction comes, I’ll do my best to handle Hunnigan until then—”

“I can’t just leave my mission—”

“You’re not leaving your mission, just making a detour. Partners, remember? Have a little faith in me.”

He begins to frown even harder, about to probably tell you how this isn’t about that, but you see how Ada is waiting. She could have left already, a woman with her own goals and agenda that doesn’t have anything to do with a lone American agent, but she waits patiently. That tells you more than her contradicting talk ever can.

Leon looks torn, his brows furrowing deeply as he weighs his options, gloomy as ever, but there’s a certain want there, and you see deep down, he wants to seize his chance, but as always, he’s his greatest enemy. The wind whips at his hair, disheveling it further, but his gaze remains on yours. It's as if the chaos around you has momentarily frozen, leaving only the two of you in this critical moment. Ada, standing near the helicopter, looks on unreadably, her enigmatic gaze fixed upon Leon.

You step closer to him, your voice resolute despite the chaos around you. “Whatever this is, between you and her… Don’t put a lid on it and shove it in a box until the next mission you meet her on. Solve this, Leon. Have the greeting or the closure you want. Go."

He opens his mouth, seemingly ready to argue, but the weight of your words settles upon him, and he hesitates. The gusts of wind whip at your hair, as if urging him to make a decision.

"We've been through so much together," you press on, your voice softening. "I've seen the way you look at her. Don't let this opportunity slip away."

His features contort with conflicted emotions, his piercing blue eyes searching your face for any signs of doubt, but your belief in him shines through.

Behind that lie the feelings you have for him, but those, you bury. Deep, deep down. They are unneeded. Shouldn’t have existed in the first place.

With a heavy sigh, Leon finally relents, his voice filled with a mix of gratitude and apprehension. "Alright, but promise me you'll be careful. We'll regroup as soon as possible."

You’re not disappointed. You’re not disappointed. You’re doing this for him. If you say it enough times, it’ll become the reality.

"I promise, Leon. Just make sure you get the answers you need."

Without another word, Leon turns towards Ada and strides purposefully towards her. The helicopter's powerful gusts buffet him, but he remains steadfast, his resolve burning bright. Ada's eyes meet his, a subtle understanding passing between them, their connection becomes palpable. It's as if time stands still for them, their shared history and unspoken emotions hanging heavily in the air. Ada's gaze softens, the shift is almost unnoticeable, and she reaches out a hand, offering him a lifeline into her world. There's a sense of bittersweetness as you witness this pivotal moment, knowing that you played a part in setting them free.

Leon pauses for a fleeting moment. He looks back, gaze finding yours once more, a silent message conveyed through.

It doesn’t reach you.

With that, Leon turns back to Ada, nodding at her. Without another word, they move together towards the helicopter, and she gracefully climbs aboard, the chopper's interior swallowing her form.

She only watches you as Leon also hops on, and suddenly, she’s yelling, “Here!” and an object is flying your way. Your reflexes help you catch it easily, and you’re looking at a plush bear chain with a key attached to it. “Better get a move on. This place will blow soon!”

You can’t even say, “It’ll what—?” before an explosion shakes the whole island, and you see Leon almost attempt to jump from the chopper ascending into the sky.

You don’t wait to watch them disappear into the sunset in melancholy. You gotta get Ashley the hell out of here.

She’s a marker. You almost miss the way Leon’s lips are a tinge redder, but the blossom on his neck is unavoidable, especially with the way he’s sprawling on the chair, head thrown back as he takes a shot from the bourbon. In the protection of the safe house, Ashley is sleeping in the next room, and you two have reunited at dead of night as Leon stealthily came back, not even one minute late.

You point at your neck, tapping it a couple times, and his attention is diverted at where you’re showing, one eyebrow rising. “You got a little something here,” you say, chest constricting in a way you don’t like.

“Ah,” he understands finally, hand covering it up almost unconsciously. “Shit.”

“Had a hell of a great time, huh?”

You don’t like the way he can’t even laugh at that. “An understatement.”

“So, how’d it go?”

Leon's eyes meet yours, his expression a mix of weariness and a hint of guilt, it turns somber as he considers your question, his gaze drifting off into the distance. He takes another sip of his bourbon, the liquid burning its way down his throat, momentarily distracting him.

"It's complicated," he finally responds, with a touch of resignation. He leans back in the chair, his body language betraying a certain, ancient exhaustion.

“When is it not, right?” You watch him closely, picking up on the conflicting emotions that flicker across his face. The lines of fatigue etched into his features tell a story of the shit he went through in Valdelobos, but he looks relatively better, Ada must have patched him up.

"We made no progress," Leon continues, his voice slightly hoarse. "Still so many unanswered questions. Ada... she's as mysterious as ever. It's like trying to catch smoke with your bare hands. I can’t let go of my anger at her, and she enjoys that."

“Ohhh,” you huff from your nose, wanting to be amusing, trying to not let it slip how the way he talks about her is so magical when you know he is a man of few words. “Hatefucking, huh? I let you go so you could talk about your emotions for once and you come back with one more to your body count. I’m regretting this already.”

Leon's weary expression morphs into surprise and amazement at your remark, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He chuckles softly, the sound filled with a blend of weariness and genuine amusement. He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his face now sporting a lopsided grin. "Subtle as always," he chuckles, the tension in the room momentarily lifting.

"I thought maybe this time things would be different," he admits, his voice tinged with a hint of disappointment. "That I could finally understand her. But it's never that easy with her. She's a master of keeping her intentions to herself and herself only."

You lean forward, resting your chin on your hand, studying him intently. The bourbon in his glass has been reduced to a mere sip, the amber liquid reflecting the dim light of the room. Your voice is gentle as you speak, trying to understand the complexities of his emotions.

"And how do you feel about her?" you ask, your tone soft but probing. "Beyond the anger and frustration, is there something else?"

Leon's gaze lingers on the liquid for a moment before meeting yours once again, grappling with an inner battle.

"I can't deny that there's a part of me that cares for her," he confesses, just admitting having left him frustrated. "Raccoon City’s left a mark on me, and so has she. I can’t get rid of her. She operates in shades of gray, and I can't afford to lose myself in that. I would have followed her, no questions asked six years ago, but I’m not that me anymore."

A sigh manages to escape, your voice filled with a mix of concern and teasing. "Just promise me you'll be careful, Leon. Ada's a wildcard, I don't want to see you get hurt."

A flicker of gratitude passes through his eyes, and he nods. "I appreciate your concern, but remember, I've faced worse than Ada Wong."

You smirk, a glimmer of pride shining through. "Never a dull moment with you, huh?"

Leon's lips quirk into a half-smile, though the weariness still lingers in his eyes. "Never a dull moment indeed," he replies, a hint of wistfulness in his voice. "But you've always been there with me, through it all."

You give him a reassuring smile, your eyes reflecting the genuine care you have for him. "No need to thank me for that."

In response, he reaches forward to cradle the back of your neck and pulls you into a singular kiss, you taste cherry lip gloss underneath the bourbon, and it reminds you the nature of your relationship with him. No name beyond the vague partners label, sharing platonic worries one second and a bed the other, and it’s comfortable. Convenient. A bond two agents who can’t commit exactly need.

Too bad you had to ruin it by falling in love.

As the kiss lingers, you can't help but feel a pang of regret. Regret for allowing yourself to harbor undeniable emotions for someone who cannot reciprocate those feelings in the same way. Regret for getting entangled in a web of emotions that threaten to unravel the delicate balance of your partnership.

But as quickly as it happened, he pulls away, a conflicted expression crossing his face. Maybe he’s comparing you to Ada — maybe he’s gone for it because he wanted to confirm something, who knows? His disappointment is palpable.

"Sorry," he murmurs, his voice laced with regret. "I shouldn't have done that. It's complicated enough as it is."

You try to mask the hurt that stings within you, the unspoken words hanging heavily in the air. You understand the boundaries, the reasons why you've kept your feelings buried deep down. But that doesn't make it any easier.

"It's okay," you manage to say, your voice steady despite the ache in your chest. "You know how it is between us."

With a heavy sigh, you push aside your own emotions, burying them deep within. You've always been good at compartmentalizing, at setting aside personal desires for the sake of the greater good.

(A red herring.)

We should get some rest," Leon finally murmurs, hand on his brow. "We have a long day ahead of us."

You nod in agreement, though your heart aches with unfulfilled longing. "Yeah, you're right. Rest sounds good."

“I’ll take the first watch.”

You leave him alone there, only looking back as you’re disappearing into your own room to see he’s playing with the little bear keychain Ada has left behind.

(You are the red herring in their story.)

#leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s. kennedy x reader #leon kennedy angst #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy imagine

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wexhappyxfew · 4 months

Text

stray bullets

(a/n): it's been a long time coming, but.....i am beyond excited to share this piece. focused on some early days with kennedy x bucky, i wanted to dig into kennedy and her character (and her fun internal monologue) and introduce exactly how she's connected with bucky - because let's be honest, even she doesn't know how it happened. please enjoy!! :D (also...it's a bit of a long one - i was having some fun haha!)

The silence around the interrogation table was enough to mess with any person's head; whether they were the command pilot, like Lieutenant Bradshaw, or a tail gunner, like Marianne Salinger, they all seemed to sit in reserved quietness as they festered in the happenings of just an hour ago.

Sweat trickled down the sides of her face as she leaned against the wooden table, picking at pieces that were peeling up, trying to keep her eyes away from the maps sprawled out, and that big leather-jacket notebook where Bessie kept all her notes, coordinates and documentation for what planes had gone down - when and where. The other tables were much more lively - louder, chatty, a bit of yelling even. The Silver Bullets table was quiet, and they were all sure it had to do with the notable lack of their flight engineer, who was currently at the Med-Bay, bloodied and unconscious.

Margie Harlowe was on all of their minds it seemed.

And the thought of having to recount the events leading up to that point, made Kennedy want to vomit. The hit had come just as they were on the 90 degree turn to get the bombs ready to drop. Achterberg had taken control of the plane, with Bradshaw and Montez working to guide the B-17 swiftly to the side, as the onslaught of flak and bullets sprayed from the German fighters swinging around above them.

Kennedy remembered the yelp and anguished cry of pain that had come from her headset, the blood-curdling scream for help that had Kennedy forgetting about her .50 cal and racing towards where the top turret was. She couldn't get that look on Margie's face out of her mind; sobbing, horrified, the blood covering half her face, Stagliano trying to calm Margie down the best she could, while waving off the sad excuse of help that Kennedy had been. Freezing up like that, what was she thinking?

"Sergeant Farley." Kennedy's head snapped up - she didn't realize she'd blanked out, staring at the dried blood on her hands, shoved up underneath her fingernails, and had her name being called all at once. She met the eyes of the interrogator and swallowed.

"Lieutenant Bradshaw said you were there when you got Sergeant Harlowe out of the top turret." the interrogator started, "Can you recount that for me?" Kennedy stared at him, suddenly feeling the eyes of everyone at the table and some of the surrounding upper brass, on her.

Colonel Harding had stood in the background, hand nervously resting on his upper lip, eyes masked in worry as the group had come in - it seemed whenever something happened to Silver Bullets, he was always at interrogation, especially their table. Making sure wrongs were righted and that whatever was going on, was fixed. He looked out for them.

"I was, sir," Kennedy managed out, shifting a bit, as more sweat dripped down her face, briefly catching the worried look from Judy just a few people down. Her eyes caught on Vivian's gaze opposite her own. She then found Francis watching her, and tried to avoid her emotions that she felt as she noted the ones in their co-pilot's own. The only thing keeping her steady was Lieutenant Bradshaw's presence beside her.

In some innate way, having Lieutenant Bradshaw there kept her from losing it.

"It was quick," Kennedy said, "I figured flak or….something from one of the fighters. German fighters. Bullet spray." Kennedy saw Paulina nod her on encouragingly.

"Sergeant Ratcliff was manning her post….so, I went to Sergeant Harlowe," Kennedy said, her eyes filling with tears, her voice breaking, "I got her out of there. As quick as I could. I…I laid her down. There was blood…..everywhere…." Kennedy trailed off. She was staring at her hands again, covered in blood. Margie's blood.

"I was able to stop the bleeding from both the side of her face and her shoulder. Took what bandage was there and wrapped her shoulder. Set it in a splint." Paulina said quickly, her words firm and much more logically-backed and confident than Kennedy's would ever be, "I ensured that there weren't blocked airways and she could breathe. It was a joint effort, Sergeant Farley and I, to ensure her safety." Kennedy looked to Paulina and gave her a slow nod of thanks, to which Paulina nodded back. Because that's what they did for each other; having each other's backs like this.

"Alright," the interrogator said, making a few extra notes before clearing his throat and looking towards Lieutenant Bradshaw, who was sat there stoic and quiet, "we lost Browning and Alder. How many chutes….?"

Kennedy watched in a reeling bit of slow motion as Judy sat there and recounted the number of chutes she had seen, Marianne and Francis chiming in with their own recounts and visuals. How many more chutes would they have to count, planes going down all around, before this would be over? Before this nightmare would end?

Kennedy looked to the empty chair where Margie would've sat and felt her heart sag and her throat tighten with emotion she had been forcing herself not to feel. It was eerily similar to when Captain Faulkner had taken the hit. When she had died. They still had sat around this stupid interrogation table, having to talk about that mission, about what had happened, with Captain Faulkner's chair left open, her presence highly gone. They all remembered that. It hurt.

Whether it was the fact she was sat at that table, or was used to a constant presence of eyes, she glanced upwards and found, from the middle opening space where some of the brass would linger in times like this, Major Egan watching her, his hands placed on his hips, and his eyes seeking out her own.

Kennedy had never been wrapped up in any sort of long-winded conversation with Major Egan - their differences in rank and formalities were already a larger factor than needed when it came to talking to him and she didn't want to incite any sort of inappropriate ideas past that. They'd debated about baseball a few times - her, a raging Red Sox fan, him a stupid Yankees fan - and they'd even had a few conversations that were outside that realm. But it was never anything much more than that. And she intended to keep it that way. Yet, something in his gaze made her not want to look away from his face, from his eyes, from his presence stood there in the center of the room.

"Sergeant Farley?" She snapped her head away from his eyes and back to the table - many of which of the Silver Bullets girls were currently watching Kennedy with sorrowful and worried expressions, while Lieutenant Bradshaw eyed her curiously.

"Sorry?"

"The number of chutes from Browning. That you saw?" the interrogator asked. Kennedy righted herself and straightened her back.

"Right."

When they were dismissed, after Kennedy had been sat, blanked out for a greater portion of her time there in the seat, Lieutenant Bradshaw had caught her before she could run away, pulling her to the side, with a warm hand on her shoulder and a soft look in her eyes.

"You should go visit her," Annie said quietly, "I can tell by the look in your eye that you won't change out of these clothes or eat until you do." Lieutenant Annie Bradshaw did know her rather well in that sense.

"Yes, ma'am, I will," Kennedy said firmly, reaching up to wipe at the beads of sweat still trickling down her face - whether from the stress still circulating her body or the idea of Margie there on a cot, unconscious, she wasn't sure, "you do the same." Annie watched her with a smile before reaching up to squeeze her shoulder.

"I will, Farley," she said, before patting her shoulder, "and wash up. A few of the girls were planning on heading to the flying club tonight. Destress and all." Kennedy smiled softly and nodded.

"Will do." she said and Annie smiled before turning and heading off - leave it to Lieutenant Annie Bradshaw to instill what comfort they all needed after something like that. Birdie used to do much of the same - Annie even had the same look in her eye as Birdie usually did after a mission. Kennedy smiled slightly.

"Sergeant Farley." The achingly familiar voice struck her system and she turned to her left to find Major Egan walking towards her, as she watched him approach with that slow, even and swaggering gait, his crusher cap a bit lopsided on his head, sweat dropping down the sides of his face, as he wore that stupid, beige sheepskin jacket that she had offhandedly made fun of him for that one time (and proceeded to rub in her face ever since).

"Sir." she said, saluting him quickly as he came to a stop in front of her and shook his head, reaching up to bring her arm down from the position she'd taken up.

"Nah, nah, don't worry about that bullshit," he said and she raised her brows, "Harlowe. Sergeant Harlowe - is she good? Is she alright?" Kennedy stared at him, her heart pulsating inside her chest in a way that made her unable to get her breathing entirely under control. She watched him, tilting her head to the side and then managed to find her footing.

"Not entirely, but she's alive," she said firmly, with a nod, "flak hit up top. Or….stray bullets. Either way, she was hit and knocked out. But she's fine now." Kennedy watched him as she spoke, his eyes refusing to leave her own as he stared down at her, his larger-than-life presence soaking up every part of the view in front of her, the worry in his eyes, covered with that joking nature a slight surprise and the deep breaths he was taking enough to make her fail at controlling her own.

"And yourself?" he asked her, the corner of his lips poking upwards, a smile fighting to be on his face.

"Me? Sir, I, uh, I'm fine," she said quickly, sputtering a bit like a small child, "I'm fine seriously-"

"Good, good," he said quickly - they were pretty quick with whatever they seemed to be talking about here, "just…..when the planes came back and Harding said something about Silver Bullets taking a hit, I thought…..thought the whole goddamn plane had gone down from the way he was fucking talking so." She stared at him. He stopped talking and then stared at her, before running a hand over his face and nodding to her. She stared back at him, unsure of what to say.

For probably the first time in a long time, looking at him, she did not know what to say. This panicked approach to this sudden stillness and quiet. There were voices all around them, nurses bustling about with medics and doctors, and pilots with their crews meandering away from interrogation like limp horses, dragging gear that was nothing but a pile of garbage behind them. And the smells - like gasoline, smoke and death wafted through the air, enough to make a person want to vomit. She needed to go see Margie, and she was beyond sure that Major Egan had somewhere better to be as well. Kennedy wanted to move her feet, but she couldn't. No part of her was moving or even ready to move. Major Egan was stock-still in front of her as well.

"Is there….something else, uh, sir?" Kennedy didn't know what to do with Major Egan sometimes - call him sir, but he told her not to bother? Call him sir because he was the one who held rank? Major Egan continued to watch her and then ran a hand down his slightly sweaty face and shook his head.

"No." he said quickly, firmly, "You should get a check on Sergeant Harlowe. Make sure she's alright when she wakes up." If she wakes up, Kennedy thought, but that sour idea in her mind disappeared as Major Egan nodded to her. She stared at him for a moment longer, before she slowly nodded to him, turning away from him. She took a few steps before she could hear his footsteps and feel the placement of his hand wrapped around her elbow.

"Farley," he said, his voice quieter, as she stopped her paces and turned, her eyes searching his own as she looked at him, "seriously, you alright?" She stared at him, slightly surprised at the way his voice had grown softer, his eyes less vibrant than normal.

"Yes," she told him, but as he tilted his head towards her, she felt her heart race a bit faster than normal and couldn't help but take a shaky step back from him, "it was just a lot today that's all. But it's a lot every day. Nothing new. Can't complain." Major Egan watched her, like he was trying to diagnose whatever the fuck was currently wrong with her, acting like she didn't just watch their flight engineer and closest companion almost die.

"You like the jacket?" he asked her quietly, and it didn't take long for what stress she had in her mind and heart to roll back into that violent ocean crawl of waves and a small laugh to leave her lips.

"Is that why you came waltzing over here?" she asked him, her voice low, as she crossed her arms, "Because if that's all this was about, I'm just going to head to the Med-Bay now." Major Egan let out a dry chuckle and looked to her.

"And if I told you it was?"

"I would happily discard that jacket for you, even start a bonfire." she said, "We could get real fancy." She stared at him. "It looks ridiculous."

"You sure about that?" he said, popping up the collar, which made her roll her eyes, "I think it fits me pretty well."

"I would beg to differ," she said, "seriously, an A-2 would do you one better."

"You going sweet on me, Farley?"

"Since when did that idea get into your head?"

"You like me in my A-2, admit it."

"It would look better than that shitty thing."

"C'mon, Farley, don't leave me hangin' now." She raised a brow at him as she crossed her arms across her chest and smirked his way.

"Goodbye, John." she said, with a grin, turning away, only to have him placing his hand on her shoulder and turning her back around. She looked up at him.

"For someone so hellbent on making his rounds, you sure seem to like hanging around me." she said quietly, with a small smile, watching as his eyes seemed to twinkle in the hazy afternoon sunlight.

"Consider it a compliment." he offered her.

"A compliment?" she said with a small smile, "Didn't know you handed those out. And for free?"

"Farley…." he said with a slight groan in his voice that made her laugh as she reached forward and nudged his shoulder.

"It's okay to admit that, Margie says I'm a grand friend to have anyway," she said, watching his gaze soften at her, "it means a lot, truly."

"Friend's a word." he said with a shrug, his face tensing up slightly as she stared at him.

"Yeah." she said, with a nod, "And so is goodbye." He stared at her and she smiled up at him.

"I'm only kidding," she said, before her face fell a bit, "seriously, you okay? You weren't even on the mission and you look seriously fucked up." Kennedy had hoped that keeping up with this banter, this light-hearted, dare she call it flirting, maybe would lift his worrisome and lonely spirits, but he seemed drawn into himself and concave again and she wasn't sure what more to say.

Hey, even going as far to compliment his physique's correlation to an A-2 was pretty nice of her!

And something she wasn't actually lying about - not like she had spent too long staring at his broad shoulders over breakfast the other day (but no one except her knew).

"Didn't know you handed out compliments with a side of self-degradation, now huh?" he said and she let out a scoff and crossed her arms to look at him again.

"Seriously, John, what's wrong?"

"You can call me, Bucky, remember?"

"John."

"Nothing's wrong. Nothing, just…." he looked around, that lazy smile on his face, and looked back at her, hands rested on those hips of his again and looked to her, "does anything have to be wrong when I come to talk to you?"

"Usually there is something wrong."

"Kennedy-"

"Alright, look," she said, "if you don't budge, I'm gonna head to the Med-Bay, check in on Margie." She was playing her emotions really well, so well she had almost forgotten the mission altogether.

"So, you gonna tell me what's wrong, or am I going to have to decode it from you myself? Beg on my hands and knees? Don't make me look that pathetic." Major Egan watched her with a slight smirk and she shoved his shoulder again.

"Stop looking at me like that."

"Like whattt?" he said as she rolled her eyes with a laugh, "Oh, c'mon, Kennedy, I'm supposed to hear that Silver Bullets took a hit and not think about you?"

Kennedy's smile dropped and it seemed the realization hit Major Egan at the same time and for a moment, they were just standing there, staring at each other like deer in headlights. She couldn't look away from his eyes, because for the first time there was something more than besides his usually flirty, joking self. Hell, that was just how he normally was - no stake in the ground with a soul, moving with the wind, taking him where the Lord put him, all that bullshit. For a second, she almost thought she wasn't hearing him straight and was going to leave it at that. But no, he'd said that and she was sure her face matched the color of her dirtied ginger hair and her strawberry-blonde ends.

"Egan!" The two turned from each other, in what had been a…rather intense stare down and found Crank coming towards him, "Harding needs us!"

"Give me a fucking second, Crank! I'm talking here!" Major Egan yelled back before turning to her and gulping, before parting his lips as if to speak. She stared at him still, unable to find the words that would amount to much of anything.

"Don't give me lip, Bucky - look, we gotta go!" Major Egan turned.

"Just a minute, Crank, seriously." Major Egan called out before turning to her still stood there.

"You really should go." she finally said, her voice somewhat hoarse as she did so, like she couldn't get the words out right, "Colonel Harding-"

"I don't care what Harding thinks right now," he said firmly looking at her, "look, Farley, I-"

"It's fine." she said quickly, plastering on a smile quickly and a nod, "I'm fine." Major Egan looked far from convinced in that moment. Because she wasn't convinced herself.

He had heard Silver Bullets took a hit and suspected immediately it was her?

That's why he had looked at her like that?

In interrogation?

She wasn't much to him, so she thought, at least - what…the few conversations they'd share? She'd practically egged him on into conversations about baseball where it was less of a discussion and more of a debate. If anything, he should've heard Silver Bullets and suspected about Annie or Francis.

"Go on," she said, shoving down her feelings and emotions, offering a small smile, "Colonel Harding sounds like he really needs to talk to you. Plus, if you must continue to talk about your stupid sheepskin, I'll be at the flying club later. Maybe I'll even beat you in darts. Again." Major Egan stared at her, for the first time, a little wordless and nodded.

"Kennedy, I-"

"It's fine." she said, convincing herself the very same - if she acted like she didn't hear it from his lips, then it never happened. He never said those words, never looked at her like that, never even bothered to tell her he was worried about her after hearing about Silver Bullets getting hit. If she ignored it, it wasn't what had happened.

And it was better that way.

"Bucky-"

"A second, Crank, please!" Major Egan yelled over his shoulder again, before looking at her and sighing, jabbing a thumb behind him.

"I gotta…." he started, his words fading as he managed a weak smile at her.

"Yeah, yeah," she said quickly, with a nod, and a forced smile.

"Let me know how Harlowe is…?"

"I will." she said as he began to backpedal backwards, his eyes holding hers still. Then, she watched Crank come up to Major Egan's shoulder and spin him around before pointing and frantically talking. Then they were walking away and disappeared. Kennedy stood there like the wind had just been taken out of her sail. Why'd she act like that?

"Hey! Kenny!" Kennedy turned and found Judy coming up to her, with Bessie and Carrie behind her, splitting a few cookies in their hands, "Here you are. We thought we couldn't find you." Kennedy stared at Judy, who came up beside her, with bright eyes, before looking to Bessie and Carrie, who shared a look before looking at Kennedy.

"You alright, Farley?" Bessie asked her, glancing in the general direction of where Major Egan had wandered off to, "What'd Bucky want?" Kennedy snapped into her usual collected self (which took far more effort today than usual) and ran a hand over her hair, cringing at bit at the smell of oil and grease that followed - which undoubtedly Major Egan had smelled - and sighed.

"Heard about Margie." she said firmly, cooly, kind of quick at that, like she couldn't get the words out fast enough to cover her ass, "He knows we're close and wanted to check in. Make sure things were okay."

"Always sticking his nose into all our bullshit," Carrie muttered, crunching off a piece of the sugar cookie and shaking her head, "you know I heard the other day he was trying to ask Bradshaw for a tour of Silver Bullets. Next thing you know, I'm tearing into him, telling him he touches my area, my shit, it's over for him-"

"He just wanted to make sure she was okay, Bergie," Kennedy said with a shrug, "guess it just gets old, hearing about losing people. Over and over."

"Especially someone from Silver Bullets." Judy finished for her, "Bucky's always been sweet as peaches to me, anyway. It's mighty kind of him to come and check up on you. Knowing how close you two are. He's got an awful soft-spot for Silver Bullets."

"Some soft spot." Carrie said with a slight chuckle and smirk, glancing at Kennedy, who rolled her eyes, ignoring the looks, and glanced back to the direction of where Major Egan had gone.

"Let's go to the Med-Bay," Judy said, "I'm sure Margie would want to see us when she wakes."

"What this face?" Carrie said, "We all look like sorry excuses for circus clowns."

"At least a little flak never scared off that charisma, Bergie." Bessie said as she wrapped an arm around her shoulders, and the whole group burst into chuckles as they headed towards the Med-Bay, sharing cookies and smiles.

But all that was on her mind, until the hit the Med-Bay doors was that Major Egan had thought of her, when Silver Bullets was said to have gotten a nasty hit.

Her.

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