#leon scott kennedy hurt

[dmitriene]

SOMETHING GOOD.

requested synopsis: when you get out of an abusive relationship, leon begins to loom in the distance, and you face an internal struggle with your own feelings, but he lends a helping hand and always remains by your side until you feel comfortable enough.

cw: fluff, comfort, emotional and physical hurt, bits of suggestive maybe, described past abusive relationship, mentions and description of abuse and being abused, really vile words, mentions of blood, possibly mentions of selfharm (no cutting things), cries, emotional outbursts, self accusation, many metaphors, many intimacy, one night stand, leon is helping reader and just in love, falling in love, confessions, pet names, hints on proposing. pairing: bf id leon scott kennedy x gf fem reader

author's note: after a quiet long time, i'm back with leon kennedy and with request about him, so here i am, please read all the warnings and then continue to the fic, i didn't write once in my life about such themes, but, i hope those who will read it enjoy, and if you struggle, please search help in any face you can, also tagging the one who requested the writing @paladin-heart5.

✎ 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵. 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴. 𝘢𝘰3. ˑ༄

No one is protected from abusive love, from violence, from rude words — at first it begins imperceptibly, fleeting words, too sudden control, outbursts of anger, too rough touches to scarlet, poisonous marks on the skin, almost bloody kisses, and then it’s too late, when there’s a loud crash sound in the air that come with a blow, and the cheek with the broken flesh of the lip burn with acute pain.

When the eyes swim with salty tears, flow down the cheeks and seem to leave burning traces, when it is too late to move, because the bird in the cage can only flutter its wings against the bars, but never really fly away — an imitation of freedom given to take your gaze away from the truth behind the golden cage, but a bird that can't fly won't survive, and so you thought.

— “he's just shows his love this way„ “i should appreciate it„ “it's my fault„ “if i wouldn't annoy him he wouldn't do this„

Your own thoughts are poisoning you, dissolving like an acidic liquid in your very being and the thin veins under your skin, accumulating at the bottom of your throat and rolling onto your tongue with nausea, you must spit it out, get it out of the depths of your mind and body, scratching your skin until there are bloody traces, but exposing yourself again and again under fresh blows, until bruises bloom before our eyes, which cover reality, pushing it further away.

The marks on the skin hurt and burn, your past version of you screams and vomits in salty tears, poisoned, the disgusting reflection of the current you on her once pure skin and soul, your new reflection in the mirror — causing neither emotions nor tears, there is nothing left that you would like to do, say, instead of throwing away the empty shell, you turn into it.

Your wings no longer flutter, you no longer cover yourself, you don’t snap, you don’t cry — you are slowly dying, and your abuser doesn’t like it, he doesn’t like that his doll no longer reacts when her threads are pulled, when his bird doesn’t chirp and flutter wings when they try to pull them out, he gets bored of playing, mocking, and he leaves you in this poison.

— “you're boring, barely experiencing a single emotion, so fucking annoying, sex with you is like shagging a corpse, at lough you also look like one„

— “i'm done with you„

Plays in your head like a creaking vinyl record, scratching painfully against the walls of your mind, and you don’t feel relief when he leaves, because you’re still bleeding, choking on poison, tearing your flesh and fighting with yourself, and he’s beaming, hands up to the elbows in blood which is not visible to others, teeth are exposed in a vile grin, fangs shine under the sunlight that is repelled from you, every scar and bruise burns.

You emerge with torn wings and deep wounds on your back, with a scattering of purple and yellow hues on your skin, haunted by light, uneven scars and accumulated toxins at the bottom of your body, you do not fly out of the open cage, but pause before crawling out, letting the rays wash over your skin and soul, even through pain.

— “i deserve it„ “deserve better, better life, better care, better love„

And the old you, the one behind the mirror, reaches out and wraps her arms around you, draws out all the pain and tears, changes places, locking everything behind a solid glass surface, allowing you to flutter again, spreading your regrown wings through pain, through therapy, the play of emotions and constant reminders that you deserve better, you deserve to forget, you deserve to no longer be afraid.

This better comes in someone else’s image, “Leon Kennedy„ the word rolls across your tongue like liqueur, tartly sweet, like his pale blue eyes turned in your direction, like his plump lips that folding into a smile before he stretches them wider and shows you his snow white teeth, pressing against your thin neck and scratching your skin with his stubble , leaving tickling marks and warm kisses, blowing dark strands of his hair from his face to cling to your flesh again and again with tenderness and adoration, desperation for intimacy.

This is the first time, after all the events and years of therapy, when you allowed yourself close contact, more than a nod, more than a slight flirtation — you allowed someone else's warm hands, covered with calluses, to trace every contour and curve, to bend over you to run their lips over you, kneel in front of you with such warmth in the blue pools that your knees become weak.

The first, and the last, you say to yourself and the reflection in the mirror, pushing away from the fleeting permission to feel loved, afraid to open up, afraid to let someone get too close to your painfully grown wings, even when he appears on your doorstep with a bouquet of lush flowers, with a wound on his cheek covered with a plaster, with a loose tie thrown over a broad shoulder, with playful sparkle in the eyes and bared wrinkles around.

— “it's.. no, nono — i can't, i won't, i'm sorry„ scattered pieces of sharp glass pour from your lips, your eyes burn following the skin along which warm, acidic tears flow, you reluctantly open, release the sharp thorns of self defense, grown by your own strength, and his gaze gets lost, flicker around, and you don’t even see through the wet veil, you just feel, feel how warm wide hands wrap around your body with care, as if holding a crystal.

Fresh buds scatter under your feet when he presses you to his hard, but so warm chest with absolute tenderness, collecting the scattered pieces, pressing into the thorns in response, holding you when your knees gave way and unbearable bitterness curled up in your throat, when you pull his jacket towards you, screaming into his solid figure, while he buried himself in the top of your head and whispered quiet, fragile phrases intended only for you.

— “it's alright, sweetheart, i'm here, shh.. — i won't force you, promise i won't, it's alright„

He repeated again and again in a low baritone, staying with you that night until all the tears, all the accumulated grief leaves you completely, flowing as far and away as possible, leaving you in his arms, pressed against limp muscles, in a tight embrace that doesn’t prevent you from breaking free, running away if you want, but in his arms you wanted to linger, you wanted to dig a place for yourself, to stay as long as possible.

And you stay, you let him into your abode, which he enters carefully, curiously studying and looking at, playing with the blue flashes of his eyes and toothy smiles with you, watching how new colors of blush slowly bloom on your skin, your eyes run from meeting his shyly, eyelashes tremble from his every gentle touch and stroking, treating you patiently, spreading his arms so that you can cling to him and rely on him at any time.

A sense of responsibility and anger arises in Leon — his fists turn white and his jaw clenches every time he observes what past relationships have left on you, the fear of saying something unnecessary, the fear of allowing being touched without warning, knowing that this will be followed by a reflex, an attempt to cover up , and the blood in his veins boils with acute hatred for the one who treated you this way, with contempt for the mere realization that this man is still there somewhere, and if Leon could, if he knew — he would’ve finish him off.

With each time you are around Leon, it becomes easier, simpler — you more often take the initiative, discuss your feelings with him, argue while preparing dinner together about the fact that you have already eaten this dish, and it’s time for Leon to stop fixating on the same thing, to which he snorts, waving his head and kisses the top of your head with a slight chuckle, stroking the curve of your shoulder with his thumb and silently agrees, pressing you closer, proud of every change you make.

You learn to accept his attention, bouquets of flowers, payment for purchases — be it new clothes, something for personal care, jewelry as a gift for memorable days, you learn to accept his touch, at first with slight avoidance, then with tension, and then coming to his hands yourself — hugging while sleeping, while watching a movie, kissing his bare muscular back in the morning when he is preparing breakfast, running his lips and nose along his stubbled chin and jaw, kissing the small moles on his neck, finding scars on his skin that are far from yours in meaning, but equally painful in the past.

— “i love you, truly, Leon„ you lick each other's wounds, small , but deep kisses, warm touches, skin to skin when the moon rises in the sky and his confessions turn into sweet whispers, and your love into meek, sincere smiles and tears of happiness, when he fills your insides not with poison, but with something sweetly stretching, leaving not painful wounds on the skin, but blooming buds demonstrating affection, whispering into the sweaty, warm skin under the pads of his fingers — “I love you too, darling, with everything i have, i love you„

His words are sincere, connected with your by red thread, when his dark wings bloom to wrap them around you, he is warm, covered with his own honest earnings of scars, missing feathers, problems in order to trust, but he reveals himself to you from the most beautiful and ugly sides, he tells about his past, about horrors, losses, allowing you to exchange your own experiences, when his hands stroke your bare back along your spine, and yours his in return, touching each other’s wounds and scars, whispering in unison — “I'm proud of you„

And so much more awaits you together, because Leon has long put off the idea of buying a beautiful, neat ring, the diamond for which he chose with his own hands, putted aside in a bluish velvet box and waiting in line at the jewelry store, only then, when you would be ready.

[cultven]

Whumptober Day 6 - Not Realizing They're Injured

"It's not my blood."

RE2r Leon Kennedy X Reader

Content: Leon being a sweetie, Marvin mentions, Reader has been through a lot the past few days, teamwork!, and lots of hurt/comfort

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: Some mentions of blood/wounds (not graphic)

a/n: Wrote this for Whumptober day 6 a while ago but kind of just gave up on Whumptober because I am completely overrun by school </3 this one is still fun tho! (I am probably going to still post Whumptober content, just not at the right times lol)

You really wish you didn’t wear short sleeves today. Originally it was perfect weather to do so, with a cool breeze and warm air still surprisingly prevalent in the late days of September. What you didn’t account for was a zombie outbreak to begin the very same day. You were walking home from the story, retrieving a few necessities your roommate sent you out for, when you had your first encounter with a zombie. You’ll never forget the cold, white eyes that peered into your soul. Her pale skin was overtaken by lesions and blood, it was a gamble on whether the blood was hers or not. Thankfully you were able to dodge her attacks and settled into a sprint back towards your apartment. What was not so fortunate, however, was the explosion you were met with once you got back. Your apartment, your home for the past two years, all of your belongings, now nothing but ash and despair. 

How could this all happen so fast? One minute you were a normal citizen, and the next you were almost a victim of a horrible outbreak rampaging through your hometown. After brief consideration, you decided to head down to the police station only a few blocks from your apartment. You figured it would be better than leaving yourself in the open, plus they have officers and weapons there. If there were any safe places left in the city, it would be the Raccoon City Police Department. 

On arrival, you were met with many timid questions through a cracked door. You could tell they’d already been ambushed a few times by the way they were on edge to even speak to you, an outsider, after some convincing you were let fully into the building. There you sat with other survivors and police officers, trying to process that this was your new reality. Over time you lost more and more refugees. Officers who thought they were brave enough to survive got themselves killed, and citizens who began to get worried over their families all left until it was only you and Marvin left. That was until the rookie came in. 

Leon Kennedy, a tall man with brown hair and an adorable smile. The two of you instantly clicked. You were both similar in age and his personality meshed well with yours, resulting in deep conversations quite quickly. You learned he was supposed to have his first day around a week ago when this whole shitshow started but was told to stay away. As much as you grew a liking towards Leon, you could’ve scolded him for his idiocy. He should have stayed away, he should have spared himself from the horrors of Raccoon City. But you remind yourself that he couldn’t have known, and besides, in some selfish way you were glad he found you. 

With the task of getting out of the city at hand, you and Leon have grown closer and closer, which brings you to now, wandering the corridors together, flashlight in your hand and a gun in Leon’s. A groan emits from around the corner. 

“Did you hear that?” You whisper to Leon, keeping close since he is one of your only defenses against the zombies. Leon and a small knife Marvin gave you. 

“Yeah, stay behind me.” You nod slightly at his command, standing right behind his uniformed body. It should be illegal how cute he looked in the cop uniform. As the two of you rounded the corner, Leon cocked his gun and held both arms out to stabilize himself. Just as you had guessed, a zombie begins to come forward making its way into a sprint at the two of you. Before you could even think to react two bullets are lodged in its head as it falls limp to the ground. Leon puts an arm out in front of you, signaling for you not to move closer as he nudges the zombie with his foot. Dead. 

“Good aim.” You pat Leon’s arm as his gaze is still fixed on the body. He was still readjusting to the whole zombie thing. Even though he’s doing it out of necessity it feels wrong to kill the zombies. In his eyes, they’re still human, at least part way. Seeing he was lost in thought you nudge his arm a bit, “Let’s go. Marvin’s waiting.” He only nods as you begin to move again. Leon is grateful for you, he truly is. He doesn’t know if he would have the courage to do any of this without you. It seems there’s one good thing that came out of this tragedy at least. 

The pair of you continue walking, not having the luxury of spare time in this hell hole. To make things a little better, you try some small talk. “So, what’s the first thing you’re gonna do when you get out of here?” 

“Hm, definitely get some good food. Maybe some fast food. Is it bad to crave fast food in an apocalypse?” You giggled at his question. 

“Probably not. I just know the first thing I’m doing is taking a shower.” You’ve been stuck in the police station longer than Leon and it is very telling appearance-wise. Your clothes were not only filthy, but you also admittedly smelled. It was a wonder Leon wanted to be around you, much less wanted to stay so close to you. But you suppose it wasn’t the first thing on your mind. 

“Shower is a good one! Can I change my answer?” Leon looked you in the eyes, smiling. You had to resist tackling him on the spot. He was so cute, even with dirt and grime on his face. 

“Nope! Can’t steal my answer.” You playfully responded, still trotting by his side keeping an eye out. 

“Aw, dang. Well, Mcdonalds is still pretty good I guess.” Leon conceded. You were about to respond when you heard noises coming from the main atrium. You looked at each other in confusion, then in worry. Marvin was out there. 

“I think we should head back there.” You state, turning your head back in the direction you came from. Leon agreed and you both began to backtrack, maneuvering over dead bodies and pools of blood. Gross. Right as you were about to reach the gate you felt your boot slip on a puddle. As you were falling backward muscular arms caught you just in time, capturing your body in a tight hold. You open your eyes and are met with crystal blue. Leon. You smile seeing the relieved look on his face, his arms pulling you in closer before releasing his hold. 

“Please be more careful. I’m going to die of a heart attack before a zombie could get me.” Leon huffs, half joking half serious. 

“Yeah, sorry.” You apologize, feeling a bit bad. Leon only shakes his head a bit before smiling one of his sweet smiles again and leading you with his arm. 

“It’s ok, let’s just go check out Marvin, yeah?” With soft footsteps you make your way to the main hall where you expect to see zombies but nothing. Only sharing a quick, tentative glance, you continue forward. You were about to call out Marvin’s name when you heard a long, guttural groan. Turning your heads you find yourselves a devastating sight, Marvin with his head completely bent to the side with white eyes. The eyes were always the creepiest part in your opinion, it was the first glimpse of the zombie apocalypse you got. With painful noises leaving his mouth Marvin begins to limp forward, acting like all of the zombies you had encountered before. Earlier that week he told you to promise him if he ever became one of them, to shoot him. At the time you thought the promise was unnecessary. 

Backing away, you could see Leon was sweating. He looked at the gun in his hands before quickly looking at Marvin once again. It was hard to gauge his thoughts, he looked conflicted in himself. “Leon…?” You whisper, still slowly backing away as Leon stays in place. 

“What do we do?” His voice was quiet and strained. Marvin showed him kindness and was one of the only reasons he was still alive at this very moment. He should have died a few hours ago but Marvin saved him, and Leon couldn’t return the favor. His breathing picks up and his head begins to shake. “What do we do?” Leon repeats, slightly louder this time. His head was now facing you, desperately needing you to guide him. 

“I don’t know.” You stutter out, feeling hopeless. Like Leon, you wouldn’t be here now without Marvin’s generosity. He not only physically helped you by providing food and water, but once everyone else was out of the station the two of you gave each other emotional support as well. You knew what Marvin wanted, but you couldn’t bring yourself to suggest it. 

“Should I…?” Leon’s voice trailed off, but you knew what he was referring to. He was staring straight down at Matilda, his hands violently shaking. Deep down you both knew it was the only way. Either that or leave him alone in this miserable state. If there was any Marvin left in that brain of his you knew he would want to be taken out. The atmosphere became suffocating. You inched towards Leon, trying to gain a sense of false security. 

“He- Marvin told me, before you were here, that if he turned into one of those things he wanted someone to shoot him. He didn’t want to survive as one of those monsters.” You solemnly repeat Marvin’s words back to Leon, who was only falling further into distress at the words. Now he knew what he needed to do, but bringing himself to do it was a completely separate issue. 

“I can’t.” No, he wasn’t trained for this. The academy didn’t build him strong enough to kill his allies like this. 

“I can.” You put your hands on Leon’s, staring into his soft eyes. For the past week, you’ve been surrounded by chaos and despair. If anyone were mentally ready enough for this, it would be you. Leon has protected you time and time again, it was your turn to protect him. 

“Are you sure?” Leon looked suspicious but allowed you to gently take Matilda out of his shaking hands. You squeezed one of his hands in your own, a gesture he mimicked back to you, before cocking the gun towards Marvin. It was your turn to be anxious now. Before this week you’ve never shot a gun, even then you’ve only used one twice out of necessity. You take a deep breath in. 

A gunshot rings through the room, but nobody falls to the ground. Instead, you feel a decaying hand grab yours and push you down, effectively knocking Matilda out of your hands in your stunned state. Of fucking course you missed the shot, why did you think you could get it in the first place? You weren’t trained for weapons, let alone a police handgun.

You’re now on the ground, fighting Marvin off of you as you frantically attempt to grab the knife attached to your hip. Leon watches in horror at the scene, stumbling to retrieve Matilda from the other side of the room. As he grabs the gun you successfully grab your knife and jab it into Marvin’s side. Much to your displeasure it doesn’t elicit any reaction other than a small groan. Losing your grip on the knife due to the many liquids such as blood and sweat surrounding you, Marvin gets his chance to take the knife out of himself and begin swinging at you. Luckily, Leon returns from grabbing his gun just in time to kick Marvin off, effectively taking the knife with him. 

Without hesitation this time, a gun goes off, and then silence. You look over to see Leon coldly standing over Marvin’s lifeless body. He liked Marvin, he truly did. Leon held much respect for his elders, but he knew this wasn’t the same man he saw at the beginning of the night. Even if it was, however, Leon still didn’t regret his actions. You were his haven in this hell, and if protecting you meant he had to make some hard decisions then so be it. As much as he wanted to believe the opposite, Marvin was never going to make it out in that state. But you had a chance. 

Looking over at you his heart was beating out of his chest. Even disheveled from a fight you looked beautiful. Not to mention the fact you could have almost died right in front of him. Leon yelled your name, running back over to you. He enveloped you in a hug, pulling away after feeling a warm liquid coat his clothes. He looked down in horror to realize the liquid was blood. 

“Are you hurt?” He asks, confused since you seem fine. 

“What?” You look down at his hands that were smeared with blood. “That’s not my blood.” You felt fine, maybe a little buzzed after the fight, and your heart was racing out of adrenaline, but nothing hurt. 

“Your arm…” Leon whispers, turning you slightly to the side to take in a giant gash on your upper bicep. It was likely from when Marvin was slashing the knife at you. You were so focused on getting him off of you that you didn’t feel the pain. 

“Oh shit.” That was all you said before Leon guided you over to the bench and firmly sat you down. He seemed angry. Not aggressive, just silent and mad. He grabbed a first aid kit and took out a rubbing alcohol pad. 

“I’m sorry, this might hurt.” He seemed genuinely hurt when he felt you wince against the pad, your teeth gritting together. “I’m sorry.” He whispered the phrase again, somewhat to himself. Luckily the gash wasn’t deep enough for stitches, only surface level. If you had sleeves on it likely would’ve been the depth of a paper cut. Damn you short sleeves. Leon began to wrap gauze around your arm as the room was buried in silence. Once you were all wrapped up and Leon put the first aid kit away you both sat in silence, about a foot apart and awkward. You weren’t sure why Leon was being like this, he saved your life. Did he think you were weak and didn’t want to associate with weak people? No, that’s not Leon. 

Little did you know, in his mind, Leon was killing himself over the fact he allowed you to get injured due to his empathy for a fucking zombie. His skewed moral compass could have been your first-class ticket to death. You deserve someone better than that, someone more rational. How is he supposed to get the two of you out of here when he can’t pull a trigger? 

Sick of the silence, you spoke up. “Leon?”

“Yeah?”

“What’s up?” You look over, he is clearly still lost in thought. When he doesn’t answer you nudge his arm slightly, scooting closer so that your hips are now touching while sitting. 

“It’s just…” Leon trails off, allowing himself to reword his thoughts before spewing them out. “I hesitated to kill a fucking zombie and it almost got you killed.” 

“Leon, I understand your hesitation. He was our friend.” You inched your hand close to his but didn’t commit to touching it. You were uncertain whether or not he wanted to be touched in this state. He answered your question however by grabbing your hand and squeezing it on his own, a grounding technique. 

“Exactly, was. I knew it wasn’t him. I knew he was dangerous, and I still allowed him to get close enough to hurt you. I’m the cop here for God’s sake!” His frustration was taking over, you could tell all he wanted to be was a protector. 

“You still saved me, Leon.”

“Saved you from my own actions.” He let go of your hand and buried his face in his palms. The stress of everything was beginning to get to him, Marvin was only the final straw of everything that had been building up recently. 

“Hey,” You moved Leon’s palms from his face, taking his hands in yours and holding them gently. “Leon, without you I wouldn’t be here right now. Not only because you stopped Marvin, but because of all the other zombies and monsters you’ve saved me from today.” He still didn’t look convinced, so you continued. “Your hesitation only further proves how caring you are. Marvin was our friend.” Leon looked away at the word ‘was’. You sigh, moving putting one hand on his cheek and redirecting his gaze to you. 

“You’re a good person, Leon. I need you to know that.” It felt like there was a laser between your eye contact, anything that tried to pass through would simply burn out. You were all he could see and vice versa. Suddenly, Leon’s arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you in. His face buried itself into your neck, beads of water, presumably tears, beginning to run down your skin. 

“Thank you.” It was just above a whisper, but you heard him crystal clear. There the two of you sat in each other's arms, recollecting yourself for the certain hell you had to face once more.

[xxacademy]

tender

husband!leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: succumbing to injuries inflicted by a B.O.W you fight the mental and physical battle to recovery. meanwhile, your husband does everything in his power to support you.

any leon timeline works, except re2. i did have older leon in mind though <3

a/n: inspired by lil a snippet from an anon request, find it here. anyhow, i love how this turned out, i was 🥺 writing it. pls lemme know what you think <33

content//warnings: depictions of blood & injury, hospital setting, non-graphic description of an IV, pain medication, y/n is used ONCE, pet names (dear, sweetheart, honey), hurt/comfort.

harsh white light wakes you revealing an image of horror. your trembling hands painted with your own dried blood, hooked up to an IV and a pulse oximeter. dazed, you know you’re in pain, but it’s not registering. it’s like you’re floating, possibly in a dream. a bad dream. but the reality of your condition is enough to confirm this is in fact not.

there’s a small group of medical staff standing at the end of your bed, talking quietly amongst each other. “the bloodwork came back, she’s not infected. all though the acid is wreaking havoc on her immune system, sending it into overdrive. the patient needs to be monitored for at least another two days.”

one of the nurses walks over to check on you, first, he looks at the monitors at your bedside, then goes to place a hand on your forehead. he notices you’re waking up, your heavy-lidded eyes focused on your hands.

he calls the doctor over, who pulls a chair up next to you. “hey, how are you feeling?” her voice is soft and calm.

“w-why am i here?” you mutter shakily, unable to make out much more.

“you sustained serious injuries on an extraction mission against a bio-organic weapon. you came in contact with its lethal acid, which is primarily why you’re here. your ankle is broken and you have puncture wounds in your arms.”

you’re still fixed on your bloodied hands, images of what you endured flood back. it was so intense- the last thing you remembered is a sharp talon-like claw piercing your upper arm. it all went fuzzy after that.

“you had surgery early this morning, and we have you on a morphine drip to help with the pain. please let us know if you begin to feel ill.”

you respond with an unsteady nod.

“you’re gonna be alright.” she smiles sympathetically.

another nurse comes into the room walking directly to the doctor. their speaking is hushed. “doctor, there’s a man here to see the patient. he says he’s her husband.”

��we can’t risk exposure from an outsider, we can’t have visitors yet.”

“he seems antsy.”

“well, assure him that she’s okay”-

the room is dead silent, so you can rather clearly make out what they’re saying.

“bring him in.” your voice quivering.

their heads turn, giving you a look of disappointment. similar to the one your mother gave you as a child. a sullen expression of remorse when she couldn’t afford to buy you new toys.

they do not want to hold your loved ones away from you. but it’s what has to be done. after all, it could mean life or death.

you sigh. you’re in no place to put up a fight.

“i’ll talk to him.” the nurse whispers. leaving the room.

“i’m sorry mrs. kennedy, you’re just not in a well enough state for visitors yet.”

you respond with yet another dreary sigh. fidgeting with the ring finger of your left hand.

your wedding ring is missing. you know you were wearing it prior. you’re always wearing it. sometimes you would loop it around a necklace chain, but you didn’t before this mission. surely it was on your finger.

“-doctor” you whisper.

“yes mrs. kennedy.”

“do you have my wedding ring?”

your tattered and blood-stained belongings were placed in a biohazard bag. a nurse picks up the bag feeling through the plastic for a ring.

“it’s not in here.” the nurse admits, a touch of anxiety in her voice.

“that’s okay.” you exhale.

it’s not okay. your beautiful diamond ring was more than just a pretty thing. it was one of the only sentimental pieces you coveted so highly. hand-picked by leon, it was a symbol of his undying affection. despite all the odds pinned against your love.

wanting to cry, but your bloodshot eyes are dry. the medication numbs you enough to let the pain run by, but you still feel broken, physically and mentally.

the hours pass as you bob in and out of sleep. your wavering limb’s finally settling. nurses and doctors are always present, constantly checking your vitals.

the next day two nurses come to bathe you at your bedside. gently wiping the sticky dried blood from your skin. the other trying to get it out of your hair.

“thank you, i mean it, thank you,” you whisper, fighting to keep your eyes open.

it was a relief. the sweet, metallic smell was driving you crazy. it felt itchy and uncomfortable against your skin.

…

leon hasn’t left the hospital. confined to a chair in the waiting room for the last day and a half. constantly flagging down staff for updates on your condition.

“she’s doing really well, the blood transfusion took perfectly.” the nurse smiles reassuringly.

“does that mean i can see her?”

“not yet, but soon.”

leon sighs. “well anyways, thanks for the good news.”

he sullenly returns to his chair. the stress and lack of sleep painting his under eyes dark. in his grasp is a picture you two took together, one he always carries in his wallet. it was taken a few years ago and you’re kissing his cheek. it’s the only solace he can find in the depressing waiting room.

leon had fallen asleep for the first time in over twenty-four hours. slumped over in his chair, chin resting in his palm. he jerked awake when his chin slipped. it was dark outside and the lobby eerily quiet.

3:47am

leon walks to the front desk heavy-footed and groggy. “my wife, y/n kennedy, is she okay?” his voice is grave.

“yes sir, she’s sleeping- and everything is looking good. but, you should get some sleep too sir, it’s gonna be a while until she wakes up.”

“-thanks.”

the pain of not being able to see you cuts like a knife. leon can't stand the image of you suffering and alone. but he’s borderline delirious from the sleep deprivation. he returns to his chair, lays his legs out across another, and falls asleep.

leon is jolted awake by a nurse tapping his shoulder. it’s morning- warm sun seeping through the windows and the smell of fresh coffee wafts through the lobby.

“do you need me to move?” he asks, still half asleep. voice deep and raspy.

“oh no mr. kennedy, your wife is on the right track to her recovery. you can go see her now.”

…

you feel much more alert, the daze the blanketing your apprehensive thoughts finally lifting. they switched you onto a far less invasive medication, which was probably helping.

it’s been a week since you’ve seen leon, and about two of those he’s been here, but just barely out of reach.

whenever the nurses praised you for the progress you made- you jump straight to asking if you're well enough for visitors. In your defense, it’s been unbelievably hard going through this journey alone.

the door creeks open, a very common occurrence of your stay. but instead peaking through the door is your blonde-haired husband.

you immediately start to cry- tears welling up and streaming down your cheeks. leon tears up too, casting a glossy filter over his blue eyes. he delicately wraps his arms around you, careful not to inflict any more pain. and you bury your face into his chest, immediately staining his shirt with your cry.

“i missed you, leon, i can't believe you’re here, i’ve missed you so much.” you sob.

“it’s really you, you don’t understand how much i’ve missed you, dear.”

you take your time, relishing in the comfort of your husband's arms. he gently rubs your back, consoling you with his touch.

“how're you feeling?”

“ugh okay, i guess. my whole body hurts and i can barely move. but the doctors say i’m improving- so yippee” your deadpan tone emphasizes how exhausted you are.

“that’s what i heard. and look, i know it’s been hard, but i’m so proud of how strong you’ve been, sweetheart.”

“i love you.”

“i love you, too” leon squeezes his embrace around you a little tighter, gently kissing the top of your head.

you smile, the first one in a while. but it quickly fades. “leon, can i tell you something.”

“of course you can.”

you fidget with your hands pressing your face deeper in his chest. “i lost my wedding ring- i think it was during the mission. i’m so sorry.”

“is that really what’s on your mind right now?” leon chuckles.

you look up at him with, tears streaming down your face. “you do understand how much that ring meant to me.”

“of course, i know, dear. but how can i care about the stupid ring if the wife i thought died is actually alive and in my arms?”

leon wipes the tears from your cheeks, his hand cupping your jaw. “i promise i’ll make it up to you, okay?”

“okay.” you say sniffling your runny nose.

with a big yawn, leon stands up raising both arms up into a stretch, his shirt lifts up slightly showing off his abdomen. “i’m going to find your doctor, see when you’re coming home.”

you smile. it’s nice not being alone. you feel bad knowing leon anxiously waited at the hospital for days. but there’s an unfamiliar warmth in knowing how much he cares. leon had always cared about you- before you were even dating. that’s one of the many reasons why you married him. aside from the ongoing list of shared interests- he’s so protective, it’s one of his beautiful ways of loving you.

leon comes back to the room, “looks like they need to run more blood tests, make sure that acid is out of your bloodstream before you come home.”

you’re totally spaced out, it feels like you haven’t even had a chance to take in what’s happened to you. it’s all become a blur, taking in the moments a second at a time. you were so worried about the details it almost failed to compute that you were nearly infected by the very thing you swore your life to rid of.

like a time release valve finally triggering; anxiety washes you cold- it could have been the end. leon would have been widowed, and all your friends would have been at your funeral. your mind is playing devil's advocate. what if i don’t get better? are the doctors just hoping i stay positive?

“are you okay?” leon’s bloodshot eyes are nearly aching with concern.

“i’m scared.” your chest is sinking deeper with each anxious breath.

“why? why would you be scared?”

it may not make sense to you now- but having leon there was a sort of reality check. alone, you just survived. with him, everything has weight.

“i dunno… i just want things to be okay. i want you to be okay, i want to get better.”

leon rushes to your bedside, holding your hands in his. “but it will get better- you’re doing better, so much better! i’ll be there every step of the way. i promise you.”

you take a deep breath in an attempt to calm yourself. trying to hang on to his words.

you sob, absolutely overcome by emotion. “i love you, leon. thank you for being here, thank you for everything you’ve done.”

a nurse knocks at the door but you don’t let go of leon’s hand.

“mrs. kennedy- so sorry to intrude. but the doctor wants to do a scan of your ankle. is that okay?”

you wipe the tears from your face, trying to compose yourself.

“yes, of course, that’s alright, thank you.”

leon whispers “you got this, dear,” before standing up and sitting in a chair by the window.

…

leon has done everything possible to make the next few days easier for you. like ordering takeout and watching your favorite movies with you. serving as a distraction while you recover.

it certainly worked. he’s good at keeping you calm, and the energy light-hearted. you didn’t even think it was possible, given the grim reality of your circumstances. but somehow he can have your eyes filled with tears, giggling with laughter.

four days you’ve been in the hospital, and today is your last one. you’re able to stand up and the effects from the B.O.W are finally gone. granted you still have a long journey to recovery, at least you can go home.

…

after the agonizing hours of travel, you make it home. leon helps you into the house, guiding you to your bed. “i want to take a bath, i feel disgusting.”

“i’ll draw one for you, you want it now?”

“hmhm” you nod.

“sure thing, sweetheart.” leon tenderly kisses your forehead.

he runs a hot bath, adding a little lavender soap, just the way you like it. he walks you to the tub and helps you undress. he holds your hand as you shakily step in, slowly adjusting to the hot water.

“god my first real bath in a week, can you believe it.” you sigh, sinking your body in the bubbly water.

leon chuckles, “i know, you poor thing, those nurses really tried their best to help. but it’s never the same, is it?”

“…especially considering i was covered in congealed zombie guts”

leon laughs, “but look at you now, covered in…” he pauses to read the name on the soap bottle “…lavender dreams”

you both giggle, in love and delighted by each other's company.

“okay, i’ll leave you to it, holler if you need anything.”

…

“leon! will you fetch my bathrobe!” you yell from the bathroom. you hear his feet patter across the hardwood, “coming."

you stare at your reflection in the mirror as you brush your wet hair, inspecting the scars, bruises, and stitches that litter your body. it feels like you came home to a different person, a body you’re now unfamiliar with.

leon peaks through the door. head cocked to the side. “everything alright, baby?”

“i don’t know- it’s hard to wrap my head around it. i-i feel off.”

“c’mere i got something to show ya.” leon swoops you off your feet carrying you in his arms.

“what are you doing?” you giggle wrapping your arms around his neck.

“you’ll see.”

he delicately sets you down on the couch in the living room and sits next to you. he fumbles around in his pocket pulling out a little black velvet box.

“leon-honey, oh my god, what is that.” your eyes are round and doe-like, your bottom lip beginning to quiver.

he opens the box, presenting it to you as if his hands were a clamshell, revealing a glimmering ring set in pearlescent white satin.

“for you- i know it was hard losing the ring, but that one was beaten up anyways. you deserve something a little nicer.”

tears swell, gathering in the inner corners of your eyes. chocked up and rendered speechless, you mouth the words, i love you.

he reached for your trembling left hand, sliding the diamond wedding ring onto your finger.

“i love you, most.” he beams, the words fluttering with tenderness.

“i-i love the ring, it’s beautiful-truly. but how’d you do it?”

“do what?”

“get a new ring, you were with me the entire time…?”

“i have my ways,” he smirks, planning on keeping that little secret to himself.

leon holds your hand, admiring the way your hand looks adorned by his diamond ring.

“remember when we got engaged?” he muses.

“of course i do! you took me to milan, i should have known you were going to propose.”

“you have the same look in your eyes as you did then.” leon swipes his thumb along your cheek, smiling to himself, gazing into your eyes.

“and you’re as smooth as ever” you look at him through your lashes, pupils wide. “but really leon, thank you, means more than the world”

“you are my world.” his soft lips meet yours, kissing you gently.

somewhere in the crystal pools of leon’s eyes, you find the hope you were looking for. his unbreakable faith in you, alongside his never-ending acts of love, is reassuring.

hell, it’s not going to be easy, but at least you're not alone.

⭐️tags

@yourgentlegirlfriend

[narcissarina]

I read a hilarious Reddit post of a guy saying “called my wife after I got shot and actually said ‘hey honey, I kinda got shot’ and she was mad I said it like that” and all I can picture is re2!Leon (maybe RC didnt get destroyed, so he’s a cute lil rookie) getting a call from his s/o and s/o is like, in the hospital or something and is like “Hey, just so you know there’s a dude with a gun mugging people. Oh btw, he tried to mug me and I kinda got shot”

Poor pookie is gonna be SO distraught.

LEON WOULD LAUGH AND CRY AT THE SAME TIME😭😭😭 making a short one shot outta this, sorry it took so long😭😭🙏

𝚂𝚑𝚘𝚝 𝙲𝚊𝚕𝚕

Leon was working a little late so he made sure to tell you, he’s finishing up his report and check his phone for the time. His thoughts drift you, he wonders how beautiful you sleep in your shared bed and how he’ll slowly get on bed—careful not to wake you up until your feel the bed weight shifts and turn to him and ask him that he just got home in a tired tone.

Files were stacked on his desk; messy and pens all over. He picked the papers he should organize, pens in its case. He yawns and keep himself awake with some coffee, he hums as he thought of you.

As if the noise seems to muffle, leaving Leon on his own in his world. His phone rang, snapping him back and took his phone. Its was your number on display, a big grin planted on his face as he picked up, “hey, baby. Need something?” he asked, his tone sweet and loving, “uhm…” your voice was heard from the end of his phone.

“Yeah, baby?”

“I’m in a hospital right now.” Before you could speak further, Leon hang up the call, adrenaline course through him.

Everything is clean in this room, you were lying in a hospital bed with the monitor beeping. You look down at your phone that shows Leon hang up on you, cutting you off before finishing what you had to say.

You place your phone down near the bed drawer and deeply inhales, you pick up a nurse shouting from outside your room, “sir, you can’t come in there!”

You flinched, tugging the blanket close to you as Leon burst right to the door—sweat running down his forehead, he’s out of breath as he spots you in the bed, “baby, what happened?” he asked, rushing to your side and squeezing your hand as he brought your knuckles to his lips.

“I just want to buy you your favorite food because I was planning to stay up late and wait for you on the dinner table.” He hums and nod, “yeah?”

“There was this dude who’s mugging people,” Leon raise a brow and nodded, “where is he?” he asked, going to call units to find the smuggler. “He tried to mug me and I kinda got shot.” Your lips turn to thin lines as Leon’s face dropped and his mouth open.

Silence comes between you as he let out a small, “huh?” he was distraught, “got shot.” You repeat and laugh it off, “don’t worry I’m—holy shit are you crying?” your tone changing to chill to concern, “are you okay?” he sniffle, he just couldn’t believe that you would laugh it off and go about your day.

He leans close and bury his head to your stomach, “Leon, I’m fine.” You assured, “no, you’re not fine.” He mumbles and you could feel warm liquids from your hospital gown, “I’m sorry, I’ll try to get off work as early as I can and be with you and won’t let this happen again.” He apologized to something he can’t control, you smiled at his warm words and assurance.

“There’s no need for that,” you said, “yes it do.” He insist and called up a friend back to R.P.D to catch the smuggler as he promised you to make that guy apologize for shooting and trying to mug you. What you kept in mind is Leon is just super worried and blamed himself when you get hurt and he’s not there to support you when it happen.

“You’re such a baby.”

“I’m your baby.” You earn a laugh from him as he pulls you into a sweet and tender kiss, “not going to lie, it was kind of funny—but it’s also not funny since you got shot.”

𝑳𝒂𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒏, 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒖𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒏.

[leonw4nter]

hiiii so I really like your fics (you write incredibly well 😭💗) and if you're free I wanted to ask for one that consists of something fluff comfort ??

reader (can be female) is an agent just like Leon (her bf>:3) and it is a stormy night when she wakes up from a nightmare/or night terror and as there is a lot of thunder and she ends up getting scared and ends up having a panic attack or something because of the ptsd that she developed through missions and ends up asking Leon for help, but Leon has never seen her go through that so it's kind of his first time having to deal with her being scared by the storm so... 😞

it was more of a thought than an elaborate idea so if you want to give more "story" to this feel free to adjust it:,)) feel free to ignore this too, but I'd appreciate it in advance if you request the idea ^^🩷🩷oh and it could be Leon re4 remake c:

Cold Air and Warm Bodies

RE4R!Leon x Agent!F!Reader

You were sitting in the dining room of your parents’ house, both of them on your left and right as they sang “Happy Birthday” to you with soft claps. A single-tiered cake covered in white frosting dusted with rainbow sprinkles and topped with ‘2’ and ‘1’ candles lit up by a golden flame sat in front of you, the blazes waiting to be put out by your gentle gust of air by the end of their song. The scene appears perfect, eerily serene; something feels off about this and you’re not sure why– it’s the ideal home life, the ultimate dream of a girl celebrating 21 trips around the sun.

“Happy Birthday to you,” your parents finish the last lyric together as they place their palms on your shoulder, a touch you should not have flinched slightly from.

“Go blow out your candles,” your mother gently urges.

“No, she has to make a wish first!” your father interjects.

You nod and make a silent wish– rather, you stay silent as you try to fathom what could possibly be the element that makes this whole picture odd and make yourself look as if you were wishing. You blow out the candles one by one, starting with the ‘2’ candle first; you watch the faint gray wisp of smoke dance around before you whisk them away with the swat of a hand.

“Mom?” you ask in a small voice. “Can I have some almond milk with my cake?”

“Almond milk?” she asks, to which you respond by nodding. “Sure, I’ll go fetch some for you. You and dad go take bites without me!”

She walks to the kitchen and opens up a cupboard to pull out a glass to pour your milk into. It takes her quite some time to rummage around the fridge, taking out cartons and jugs but never finding almond milk. She walks back to the dining room, leaving behind the empty glass on the kitchen counter.

“Sorry sweetie, I must’ve forgotten to get you the almond milk. What’s that brand you liked again?” she responds as she places a hand on yours with a simper too sweet on her face. This is not your house. This is not your dad. This is not your mom. You will die.

“We don’t have almond milk because you’ve never bought any,” you say as you start to rise from your chair as your hand attempts to hide the cake knife you’ve taken while your ‘dad’ was preoccupied. “I’m allergic to almonds. You’re not my mom.”

“Clever girl.” The woman in front of you starts to distort into a mutated mass of flesh, blood vessels, eyes, and bones along with the man. You lift the table with whatever strength you have in you, obstructing the mutants’ way as you make your escape to the upper floors of your house. You know you’re running fast, legs pumping forward to move you away, but the stairs look as if they’re moving against your direction. The stairwell seems longer and the mutants are getting closer but the opposing movement seems to stop so you get to run up and escape into your room, locking the door and pushing down your bookshelf to barricade.

“Shit,” you mumble to yourself as it starts to get harder to breathe. Your throat feels like it’s closing up, a suffocating weight pressing against your lungs as breathing becomes strenuous. It occurs to you that you’re probably asthmatic and in need of an inhaler to work well again but that’s downstairs, where the monsters are. You’re wheezing and coughing, red-faced and teary-eyed as you fall to the ground, desperately clawing at the wooden floorboards as you desperately try to level your breathing and manage without a dosage to stop this asthma attack. You feel incredibly helpless, trapped in this body that isn’t conditioned to fight bedtime story monsters; you know that deep down, you know how to fight– you know your way with a Walther PDP and combat knives but this stupid, weak body can’t do those things for reasons unknown. A screeching sound catches your attention and you watch as a long talon rip off the door knob and throw it down the hall, a disgusting red eye peering at you through the hole uncovered by the makeshift barricade as clicks and screeches ensue outside. One BOW taunts you as you struggle for air, the other is actively working on dislocating the door from its hinges and it’s doing a damn good job at that. The floor opens up, catching you off-guard and you land on the living room on your back.

“Fuck,” you seethe and curse as you clutch your back due to the impact and the way you didn’t brace yourself for a fall. Another stinging pain ensues, this time on your right foot near your Achilles tendon; a blunt wooden piece of the ground found itself lodged on your leg.

“No…” you quietly wail to yourself as you try to drag yourself to safety and keep the wheezing to a minimum. Several cold and grimey hands yank at the hem of your jeans, dragging you to some place in the unfamiliar house. Zombies, you’re positive on this. You look down as you try to fight your way and are met with achingly familiar faces: your best friends, classmates, coworkers, school teachers, neighbors, little children, and Leon.

“No!” is all you can scream, voice cracking you kick them away and crawl. “No! Help me! Someone! Please, help!”

You start to cry as you feel bites on your feet, agonizing and stinging pain. You scream for help, arms reaching out when there’s nothing to cling to. Chunks are being taken from your leg, blood, flesh, and tatters of your jeans lay where your legs should be.

“Stop! I’m scared!” Your voice is nearly gone, your throat is exhausted, and you want your real mother back. “Please! Stop! I’m begging! Let me go!” you’re choking on sobs as you look down and see the damage done to your body.

You awaken to the sound of your own hoarse scream, this time held down in a cool and dark bedroom laying against soft sheets. You can’t see, your eyes haven’t adjusted to the darkness yet but you’re sure there’s a large figure right beside you.

“Legs,” you pant as you try to fight the figure and sit up to check on your right leg. “My leg.”

Your breathing comes out in quick and loud gasps, shoulders swiftly rising and falling with each furious intake of oxygen. You push muscular shoulders away with a force strong enough to distance the figure away from you before furiously checking if your legs are still intact and if there isn’t a piece of wood impaled through your leg. You feel around your body, checking if there’s any blood and injury that needs immediate care and much to your relief, the only thing you need to work on is your breathing. You didn’t even realize that you’ve been holding your pistol, only registering the cool gun metal against your warm palm. You aim it into the seemingly vast expanse of the dark bedroom, trying to keep your hands as stable as possible to be able to aim well in case any BOW happens to sneak into the space you formerly thought was safe. Your ears start to ring, muffling any other noise in the room, and it appears that your vision is blocked off at the peripheral. It’s all too overwhelming and the tears resume again, coupled with the hyperventilation; your face tingles from the sheer force of your sobbing, throat parched with all the crying you’re doing. You’re terrified and confused; you know this bedroom like the back of your hand but you can’t help but obsess over the possibility that what you’re seeing is an illusion again, a trick of your troubled mind.

Leon moves to his bedside table and switches the lamp on, a dim golden glow illuminating the room. He slowly approaches you, his hands placed where you can see them as he helps you reorient yourself back to reality.

“You’re alright,” he begins to say in the most soothing voice he can muster. “You’re safe with me. It was just a bad dream, none of that’s real.”

You slowly lower your gun, index now linger right outside of the trigger guard as you realize that it’s Leon. A Leon that’s still alive and real, slowly approaching you so as not to make your panic attack make a turn for the worst. Tears still distort your vision but you can make out his wrinkled white sleep shirt and his messy mop of blond hair, dark roots showing themselves. He sounds exhausted too, but he doesn’t make it obvious.

“It’s me, Leon. I got you,” he adds with a soft smile as he nears you though he’s wary of the gun. “Let’s put the gun away so we can talk, okay?”

You drop the gun, the heavy firearm dropping with the loud thud on the floor. You fall to your knees, the flow of tears becoming heavier than it was moments ago. Leon moves near you and scoops you up in his lap, cradling you back and forth as he presses kisses to your sweat-dampened hair.

“You're safe with me,” he reassured you. “It’s alright–”

“L-Leon,” you stuttered through choked sobs and loud sniffles. “You w-were dead. They pretended– pretended to be my parents–”

He gently shushes you as he moves a lock of air away from your face, still enveloping you with his firm body.

“It’s just a dream, see? I’m still alive. The monsters are gone now and it’s just you and me and we’re far from danger. Come on, breathe with me: inhale and exhale slowly. Yeah, yeah, there we go.”

You follow him, your body still shaking and stuttering but you follow his instructions in an attempt to slow down your rapid breaths.

“Focus on me, alright?” you nod.

“Describe three things that you feel right now.”

You stay quiet for a while, trying to focus on what you’re feeling aside from the storm inside you. He gives you a moment, patiently waiting as he brushes hairs away from your face and wipes the tears away with a calloused thumb.

“The floor… cold air and… your arms,” you answer.

“Good. That’s great, you did so well,” he croons. “Now, give me three things that you can see.”

This time, you take a shorter time to compose your answers. “The bed, you, and the rain on the window.”

He nods and whispers more encouragement and reassurances, gently shifting your body to a more comfortable position as he notices that your breathing is far less brisk.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he offers. “It’s okay if you don’t–”

“It was my birthday and, and… there were BOWs pretending to be my parents, those fuckers. They were chasing me and I felt like I didn’t know what to do, I felt so puny– incapable of defending myself. I couldn’t breathe properly and my leg got stabbed and people I’ve known were zombified, you too, and they were clawing at my legs– my legs were chewed off and it was so painful, too real. I was so terrified and scared, I didn’t want to die but you were dead and I felt guilty that you turned out like that. I just… I don’t know, I’m so scared. I don’t want to lose more people but I can’t save everyone– it’s just… it feels horrible.”

He hums and lets you ramble on before he responds with his own experience.

“It’s alright, I’m here and alive. I’m here for you and I understand what you’re experiencing– I’ve been through that shit myself too but trust me, we’ll overcome this together. It’s normal to be this terrified beyond words and horribly shaken but I’ll always be here to comfort you, m’kay?”

He’s well aware that you have night terrors, it simply came with the job– he knew it all too well. The only consolation the government said as soon as you two were deployed was that they would compensate in pay, which they stayed true to; it paid well but he’d rather not feel fucked up. You never told him about your night terrors, about the visions that plagued you in closed lids, insisting that this is something you can handle by yourself so he didn’t press any further but still watched out for you. He’s unsure about what he’s doing but he had to keep up the image of someone who knows what he’s doing, having only watched a few YouTube videos and medical articles but it appears to be working, so he’s relieved. He sits with you on the floor in a comfortable silence, ears open to listen for your breathing. You’re no longer shaking and shivering, now stilled in his arms and curled against his chest. You’ve fallen asleep, the effort exerted to snap out of the dream and regain your bearings too much for your body so he carries you back to bed and gently lays you down as he picks your pistol up and unloads the magazine before stashing it away. The room is silent save for the muted sounds of his footsteps, the pitter-patter of rain, and the low rumble of thunder. He mentally considers getting thicker curtains to block out the flashes of lightning as this triggers memories of the city long forgotten.

He joins you back in bed, moving you so you’d be pressed against his chest with his arms wrapped around you. He feels your hands instinctively cling to his shirt as his hand pats your back. With his free hand, he reaches to touch the part of his cheek where you struck him quite strongly by accident when you trashed violently but he won’t tell you, he can’t possibly burden you about the possibility of hurting him by accident. Soon, his lids grow heavy and he gives in to sleep as he holds you.

NOTE - Thank you to kittzy2 for this request, I hope you enjoyed this and the two month-long wait is worth it 💗!! Initially, I thought about posting this today (Sept. 4) but I decided to post this on raccoon city incident day for funzies :) A day ago, I found out that one of the kids I look after is getting into RE like?? ONG??? so ofc I had to message them (which I normally don't do) and we chatted for a bit and I had to tell her about the toxic side of the fandom and we shared favs too ; her favs are Jill and Ada which is so real of her actually, I lost my shit kinda coz I was getting extremely excited to start yapping about them both :3 ALSO ALSO TO THE DMC PPL IN MY BLOG: YALL. THEY'LL FEATURE DMC IN THE NETFLIX GEEKWEEK THING. THEY BETTER NOT SHIT ON MY DICK RN BRO I WAITED ALMOST AN ENTIRE YEAR FOR THIS 😭🙏 Anyway, thanks for reading my fics!!!!!!!! I <33333 UUUUUUU!!!!!!!!!!

The pattern dividers are made by @cafekitsune , the images are made by me (sourced from Pinterest).

[0kayblue]

Choices

Choices 

A drunken kiss, unspoken feelings, and a nasty argument leaves Leon in a cracked state. Painfully stuck in the crossroads of realization that nothing is going to get better until he starts talking and actively takes the steps to come to terms with his past and his disjointed emotions. 

Word count: Almost 5k (not throughly proof read)

Angst. Language. Gun mentioned. Drinking mentioned. Happy ending. Partners to friends to lovers? The timeline is a little funky so let me explain: the events of Raccoon City take place in 2004 and that places this story towards the start of 2011.

A/N: Long time no see, huh? Things got heavy and they got heavy fast. Between vacation, moving, and the holidays; I’ve kinda fallen off the face of the planet. But it is what it is and I’m back for a minute or two. 

As far as requests are concerned I’m working on them, but I get distracted with other ideas. My google doc is full of rough outlines and unfinished works in progress. I don’t have any idea when things will come out, they just will. I apologize, but damn, life is stressful. 

Anyway, I hope you all are having a lovely day, week, month, and year. Please enjoy!!

“Hey. . .” Leon starts, his voice low and like gravel with uncertainty. A sense of deprecating self-consciousness following in the silence, before he lets out a frustrated huff. “You didn’t pick up, not that I’m surprised. . .but still, it hurts.” He admits as his grip on his phone grows tighter before it loosens and a conflicted sigh leaves him. 

“I’m. . .sorry.” He struggles with the apology as he shuts his eyes and another exasperated sigh leaves him, “Truly, I am sorry. I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did and I shouldn’t have pointed the finger at you. It’s not your fault and it never has been. I need you to know that, I need you to know that I know how I’ve been acting lately is stupid and. . .” He stops as he opens his eyes and looks around the dim space of his empty living room, the loneliness of this moment threatening to swallow him whole. The numbing silence of the room mixed with the silence on the other end of the phone became too much to handle causing him to swallow the confession on the tip of his tongue. 

He licks the dryness from his lips as his other hand goes to massage his forehead in a stiff and irritated manner. He sucks his teeth as his hand falls while he lets out a disheartened sigh as the words fall from his lips, “I can’t do this without you here.” He admits with frustrated sorrow, “I need to see you. I need you to look at me. I need you to. . .I just need you.” 

The static of the other empty line cuts through silence like a rusted combat knife through brittle sheet metal. Leon’s lips part for another sigh to escape him, but it never does. The air stays lodged in his throat before he painfully swallows. 

“Look,” The word came out dry and somewhat short, before he clears his throat. “I’ve got some things I have to deal with, but if you could come over just for a moment—or at least call me back– it doesn’t have to be tonight; but sometime.” He can’t stop it from sounding like a desperate ramble; a plea for your silence to be broken.

“I don’t know when I’ll be back, but it probably won’t be until the early hours of the morning so if you could just at least call me back tonight. Let me know you’re okay. You don’t have to give me any other information and I won’t ask, I just want to make sure you’re okay.” He explains softly, biting his tongue to keep himself from making the accusations that scream at him. 

He opens his mouth to say more, to at least say ‘bye’; but he can’t, so he pulls the phone away from his ear and he ends the call. A frustrated grunt leaving him as he peers down at your contact photo, his gaze softening as he studies the smile on your face. The photo one that he cherishes with every heart string he has; a moment he was able to capture without you knowing. The rarity of being able to capture a genuine smile on your face. He recalls the day fondly and for a moment a smile curls at his lips until he eyes glance at the time in the top left corner of the thin device. He locks his phone as he stands from the loveseat you often perched yourself in whenever you were over, the seat cushion practically molded to only sit your frame comfortably. 

Putting the phone in his pocket he makes his way through the kitchen and to the door that leads to the garage; grabbing his car keys from the key hooks by the door and opening the garage door. 

The dark of night not holding its usual tranquility as the earthy smell of the heavy rain floods his nostrils. It’s eerily fitting given his current circumstances and it makes his skin crawl slightly as he gets into the driver seat and starts the car. Putting the car in reverse he backs out of the garage, his ears starting to ring slightly as the quietness of the night floods the car. A slight scoff leaves him as he goes to shut the garage door and he heads north towards his destination. 

—------------------------------------------------------------

Leon drives for hours in silence trying to put his head together. Trying to string together what exactly he wants to say while also remaining focused on the road ahead. All his thoughts scattered and disorganized; any sense of pulling it together immediately wiped out whenever his phone buzzed. A thin line of hope is always shattered when he glances at it and it’s just another notification about god knows what. It didn’t matter and he didn’t care because it was never your name on the screen. 

It felt as if you were playing this silent treatment thing as if your life depended on it and it was killing him. Suffocating him. Each ping brings him above the tidal wave for just a moment before being dragged back under by the force of the freezing crisp waves. He could almost taste the bitter salt water with each defeated sigh of disappointment. 

His glare on the road sharpens as he sees the abandoned gas station, slows, and makes the sharp right turn into the parking lot. The sound of stray gravel gritting against the tread of the tires as the car reaches its destination, Leon on the other hand still has another hour until he reaches his. 

A single unmarked cruiser awaiting him parked perfectly in between two faded and barely visible white lines. He parks his own car a couple spots away from the cruiser before he shuts it off and steps out of the car, grabbing his phone and keys sliding them into his back pocket as he takes calculated steps to the cruiser. The rain only becomes more intense as he tries not to be affected by the cold laced into every drop that hits him, soaking his clothes slightly. 

“Should’ve brought an umbrella.” He mutters to himself as he opens the driver’s side door of the cruiser and gets in. He shakes slightly in an effort to get any excess water off before running a hand through his damp hair, the water slicking it back for just a moment before his bangs fall back into place. 

He leans over the center console and gets into the glove compartment on the passenger’s side. A single car key and a beretta 92fs pistol sit exactly where they were supposed to be. He opts for the cool metal of the hand gun as he picks it up and inspects the weapon briefly, leaving the safety on before he sets it in the passenger seat. He then takes the car key and starts the car, whereas his car was quiet the cruiser engine debates on whether or not to come to life and he almost took it as a sign to give up despite not being a superstitious man; but he digresses as the old cruiser decides that Leon is worth the ride. 

Just as he goes to put the car in reverse his phone pings and he immediately takes his hand from the gear shift and fishes for it with a grunt from his back pocket. A moment of relief leaves him as this time the contact that greets him is yours. Quick to unlock the phone he is greeted with a text of only one word:

 ‘Maybe.’ 

“Maybe?” He grumbles, “What the hell does that even mean?” He asks no one but himself and yet is met with the low rumble of the cruiser’s transmission. Before really thinking he goes and types a reply, staring at the message with a puzzled expression. 

‘Maybe what exactly?’ 

Surprisingly he barely moved before he got a reply.

‘Just maybe.’

He takes in a deep breath before letting it out in a shaky manner. Stubborn, you were always so stubborn. Of course he was too, but he was the one actively trying not to be this time. He was the one trying to get you to open up and not the other way around. Trying to get you to communicate with him, trying to get you to be vulnerable with him, trying to repair the rift between the two of you.

‘Can I get more than maybe?’

‘Please.’ 

He knows it’s his fault. He understands that regardless of how you left he still hurt you and you still had every right to be upset with him. Neither of you made anything official, never committed to anything, and he was a fool to think that a drunk kiss meant that his feelings were reciprocated and defined you both as an unit. He should have known that your avoidance of him the next day meant that something was off, but he convinced himself that you understood everything. That you knew everything he’s wanted to say for months. So, when he was informed of you being around someone who clearly was no good for you; he snapped.

‘I’ll be by.’

It wasn’t much, but it was something. A crumb that would subside the ache he felt. He lets out a sigh of relief as a small and soft smile finds his face. It was confirmation to him that he hasn’t lost you completely. He hadn’t lost you. 

‘When?’ 

‘Tonight. Please.’

He stares at the screen waiting for a reply he doubts he will get; so he isn’t surprised as agonizing seconds turn into minutes. Glancing at the time he knows he needs to move, and he will. Just a minute more. 

A minute passes, then two, and still no reply. He runs a hand through his hair before it finds the steering wheel, gripping it with force. Trying to let out some of the agitation he felt in the least harmful way possible. He tosses the phone into the passenger seat before taking his leave. 

—------------------------------------------------------------

Leon pulls up to the agreed upon meeting spot, the headlights of the cruiser reflecting off of the multiple ‘WARNING’ and ‘DANGER’ signs. All signs informing the public to stay clear of the abandoned wreckage that was the nightmare that started his adult life. 

He clenched his teeth as he parks the cruiser and before killing the engine he scrutinizes the rusted, faded, and graffitied sign that read: 

‘Welcome to Raccoon City

Home of Umbrella’

He can’t help the cold unforgiving glare that hardens his features as he stares intensely at that damn sign. A sign that he once was looking forward to seeing, a sign that was supposed to harken in a new beginning for him. A chapter of his life that he never got to write the way he intended too. 

He forces himself to look away as he kills the engine. All that anger and contempt in every movement he makes; the emotions barely subtle as he grabs the pistol and makes his leave from the cruiser. Uncleaned debris crunching under the harsh step of his sturdy weight. The former storm subsided to a gentle drizzle. As if the weather was deciding to be gentle towards him, to be kind as he faced the location of so much of his trauma. Dulled screams and flashbacks of all the things he saw that night flashing throughout every corner of his brain. He grits his teeth as he slams the door of the cruiser shut, the heavy bang ceasing the noise. The memories. 

He keeps his focus trained ahead as he strides closer to the steel chain fencing with sturdy steps, the dim yellow light from aged street lights illuminating his path with a dull hum. Unclenching his jaw he puts the pistol into the tight waistband of his jeans as he starts to climb the rusted fence that murmurs whines underneath the weight of his body. 

Getting to the top he throws one leg over before deciding to make the jump to the other side. A grunt leaves him as the soles of his shoes make contact with the pitch black pavement, a sharp yet brief pain shooting up his legs. Standing up straight he pulls the pistol from his waistband, shuts the safety off, and proceeds forward. Acutely aware of his surroundings as his stomach starts to turn and bile threatens to creep up his throat. 

Luckily he doesn’t have to travel far as the person he is set to meet waits in the shadows, the click of her heels against the damp pavement making Leon fully aware of her presence as he points the gun at her out of fear. It isn’t until she steps closer that he lowers his weapon. 

“Leon.” Ada says as she looks at him intently. Giving him a once over before she speaks again, “Someone is jumpy, I see.” 

“Yeah, well, it’s the location.” Leon says as he stands up straight, his shoulders remaining tense. Ada nods in a sense of understanding. 

“You went through it to track me down and I’ll admit I’m impressed; but I have to ask: why?” Ada’s voice is smooth and low, clearly guarded. 

“There’s something I have to talk to you about. Something I need to address.” He admits. 

Ada studies him, the tension he carries nearly slapping her across the face; and she knows all the blame can’t just be put on the location. The rubble on the street is a physical representation of the crumbs of trust that was shared between the two of them. 

“So, then why go through the trouble?” She inquires, her brow raising slightly, “I’m certain whatever it is you are here to-.” 

“No, I need you to hear what I have to say.” He says cutting her off. Clearly uncomfortable, unfamiliar, and direct with her; this whole situation reeking of a rotten smell that they could practically taste. 

“Different.” She simply states, very different from their previous meeting six months prior in the rural misty mountainous region of Spain. A change that was lost on her is now clearly present. It’s rough, jagged; and not something she is used to when it comes to him. 

The two stare at each other in silence, trying to piece each other together. A clear lack of communication ringing out into the night, something that wasn’t uncommon between the two. 

“Do you-.” Leon starts but suddenly stops the question in its tracks. He knew the answer and it was pointless to even ask; so he opts for the next question, “Why didn’t you try and reach out?” 

The question takes Ada aback and it shows physically as her eyes widen just slightly before returning to that uncaring gaze. She ponders on how to approach this. On what to say. Coming up short she decides not to say anything regarding the subject; so she changes it. 

“Is this about them?” She asks and immediately Leon plants his feet. Knowing that her them meant you; and the feeling didn’t settle well in his bones. His teeth gritted together as his jaw locked. Yet, the fact of the matter remained: she was partly right. 

“It is, isn’t it.” Ada states as she crosses her arms, a sense of pride finding her as she figured him out so quickly. 

“And if it is?” Leon asks, hoping in vain to throw her off the scent by playing this with a harsh coyness. 

“You’re still hung up over a kiss?” Ada asks, the question slipping from her lips without thinking. A rarity from her, so much so that it takes her aback as the harshness of her words hits Leon with a pang of disappointment. 

“That’s not what I’m hung up on.” Leon answers, bitterness clinging to each word, “I’m hung up on the fact that after everything I—everything we—went through you didn’t even try to tell me you survived that fall. That you survived and you didn’t bother to at least leave me something to show you were still alive; and don’t even try and say you couldn’t find me. You could have. Easily.” His voice grew stronger with every word he spoke, his conflicting emotions present in each syllable. 

Ada is stunned by his candor, the hurt that she caused him present leaving her baffled and grasping for straws. He was being raw here, he was showing her his cards that he held so tightly to his chest. 

“That night was the ending to so much. That night—to me— was an unimaginable horror I was not prepared to face; and you…you were right there. You knew so much more than I did and you remained cryptic.” Leon states with a defeated and heavy breath, “It’s easy to direct my anger there; but I know that’s not where it belongs. That isn’t where my heart places it, even though it probably should be because you played it like a fiddle; but that’s not it. Not the way you used me. Manipulated me. What it is in all honesty is the fact that I couldn’t save you. That you slipped from my grip, but yet you still cling to me.” 

Silence falls between the two again, but this time it’s different. It’s not a burden even though it remains heavy.  

“So you tracked me down to tell me this?” 

“I tracked you down so you can let me go.”

The statement left Leon in one breath as he looked at her with a softness to his eyes. A vulnerability in his gaze that swallowed Ada whole. The lack of light behind his eyes shadowing her in a darkness she never expected to feel from him. Her own emotions are becoming hard to keep in check, as her insides start to simmer with an almost forgotten feeling. 

The silence clings to their clothes as the night time air becomes lodged in Leon’s throat. Nearly choking him as he examined Ada intently, trying to guess her next move. Trying to put himself in her shoes long enough to figure out what she might be thinking; but all of this was so foreign. So he retreated back into his own head and just decided it was best to let her move from here. He decided it was best to just stop; and that decision flooded his body with relief. His jaw relaxing, his shoulder falling slightly, his knees no longer locked; the utter relief he felt just voicing how he felt was something he least expected.

“Okay.” Ada said, breaking the silence. This newfound development changed something in her that she couldn’t pinpoint. Something half of her refused to pinpoint. This growth she sees from him changes her perception of him. 

“Okay.” Leon repeats with a small nod as the subtle rain drops that have been hitting him start to increase. They stand in a tense awkward silence as the wind starts to pick up and begin to howl a broken howl that wavered like a gasped sob. Leon turns to leave before the rain starts to heavily pour again, but the question that falls from Ada causes him to stop. 

“Are you doing this all for them?” She asks, crossing her arms. While Leon looks at her with confliction, still not pleased with her need to keep you in the conversation. 

“Not completely.” He answers; and that is the truth. He needed this for himself, he knew that; but it would be a lie if you didn’t inspire him to take the leap. That you didn’t assure him that he didn’t have to constantly be fighting this inner turmoil, that he could form some type of peace with it; and most importantly that he didn’t have to do it alone. He deserved to care for himself, something he never considered until he felt the gentle warmth of your care. 

“I’d prefer if you would leave them out of it.” Leon says, a protective pitch in his tone that packed a subtle bite. It didn’t catch her off guard, it was him she was dealing with; and she knew that regardless of the strengths she had briefly seen from you in Spain that Leon would still be protective of you. 

So, Ada just nods, turns, and takes her leave,“Goodbye, Leon.” Ada says as Leon watches her walk back towards what he assumed was her entry point was located. 

As her form disappears into the black of night Leon lets out a deep breath with a slight shake of his head; his limbs heavy from the strain of the stress he carried in them.

“Goodbye, Ada.” 

———————————————————--------------------------

It was nearly four in the morning when Leon pulled into his garage. Your vehicle was nowhere in his line of sight as he pulled up to his house. Not that he was surprised, your answer was just a maybe, and he didn’t want you to push yourself out of the realms of something you weren’t comfortable doing just yet. At least he let you know that you weren’t ignoring him completely and that was enough for the time being. 

He shuts off the car as an exhausted sigh leaves him while his hand runs down his face. His head starts to gently pound as he pinches the bridge of his nose. The emotional rollercoaster he has been on starts to churn his stomach, reminding him why he didn’t bother with this stuff for so long in the first place. It hurt. Everywhere. 

He closes the garage as he gets out of the car and makes his way inside. Placing his keys back on the hook, kicking off his shoes, and starting to remove his jacket he stops as he hears the muffled sound of a sitcom laugh track coming from the living room. His chest swells with hope as he quickly disregards his jacket and shoes and with large gentle strides he makes his way into the living room. His heart nearly stops when he sees you asleep on the couch. 

Stopping in his tracks he watches the soft rise and fall of your chest, you were completely and utterly lost in what he hoped was a peaceful slumber. Your arms tucked close to your chest. Your hair fanned out over the couch cushion and the arm of the couch. He fought back how he wanted to run his hand through your hair. How tempting it looked, how he knew nothing brought you more comfort than the feeling of gentle fingers working their way through your hair. He wanted to do that for you, he wanted to comfort you. He wants to give you whatever your heart desires. 

His breath hitches in his throat as he carefully sits on the edge of one of the couch cushions. His heart swells with so much love that it is overwhelming and for the first time within all of this his eyes start to glass over. Tears threatening to spill as a shaky hand slowly makes contact with the warmth of your scalp. His fingers intertwined with your hair as his thumb gingerly brushes the top of your head and a small breath of relief leaves him as he watches your body relax. He stifled a sob with a scoff as a smile found his face while he fixed his gaze on you. The person he holds the most dear. The person he would do whatever it took to just have by his side. 

A craving to show you the utmost love and affection, a craving to care for you so much deeper than what the two of you already had. He hoped with everything that you wanted more. That the ghost of your past hadn’t swallowed you up. That you would choose him. 

He finally sniffs, the sound of distress pulling you from sleep as your eyes open and find his piercing blue ones glassy with tears. You move to sit up as even in your groggy state your arms wrap around him to comfort him.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright.” You coo as your torso presses against him while one hand rubs his back and the other makes its way into his hair as you rest your chin in the crook of his neck. “It’s okay.” You soothe while Leon takes in a strangled breath his arms wrapping tightly around you as he pulls you into his lap. 

“You came.” He utters, his voice breaking slightly. 

“You called.” You answer softly. 

Leon’s grip on you tightens as he buries his head in the crook of your neck, fresh hot thick tears starting to roll down his face. You gently mumble sweet reassurances as you rub his back, allowing him to cry, allowing him to let go of all the shit he has been holding onto. The fight. The end. The struggle. He’s letting go of all of it as he keeps a firm hold on you, clinging to you as if his life depended on it. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed anything and I shouldn’t have gotten mad at you for- for being with them. I- I shouldn’t have yelled. I should have told you how I felt. I should have-.” He chokes out his apology, the saltiness of his tears finding the pallet of his tongue.

“Shh, Leon, it’s okay.” You coo rubbing his back, “Don’t force yourself to speak when you aren’t ready. Take your time.” He fists the soft fabric of your shirt as he wonders what he ever did to know the comfort of your patience. 

As Leon begins to calm down his grip on you loosens, his breathing returning to normal as his chest no longer hitches with quiet sobs. You feel him start to relax and in turn your body loses its own stiffness. You continue to hold him to you, trailing the tips of your nails gingerly up and down a patch of his back. You had no idea where Leon had been, but whatever he did has obviously left him worse for wear. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” You ask in a quiet whisper, concern ever present in your soft voice; and Leon can’t help himself.

“I love you.” He responds as he places a strong hand in between your shoulder blades keeping you pressed against him as he screws his eyes shut trying to commit this moment to memory. The feeling of your body pressed flush against his, the addictive pleasant scent of your perfume, the soft gentle flesh of your neck pressed against the scratch of his stubble. 

“I made a mistake. I shouldn’t have yelled. I should have talked to you directly. I should have seen everything.” He says as he regretfully pries himself away from you to look at you fully, his hands moving to cup your cheeks and hold your face gently in the palms of his hands. He watches the gears in your head start to turn through sparkling big doe eyes and his heart starts to melt. The realization that he wasn’t the only one that needed improvements becoming ever present as he brushes the side of his thumb over your cheek. 

“I love you and I am unbelievably sorry. Please, please, don’t shut me out.” He pleads as he studies your face, noting the way your bottom lip quivered ever so slightly. 

You both sit there in silence as he admires the sad beauty that are your features in this moment. He allows you to just sit there and feel, and think, and breathe. With all the patience in the world he waits for you. 

“I love you too.” You finally say quietly, the words falling from your lips in a hesitancy before you speak up again; but with more strength and convection, “I love you too.” 

A soft wide smile finds Leon’s face as he brings your lips to his in a soft, but desperate and passionate kiss. The taste of your lips are so much sweeter without the bitter taste of alcohol on them. Your arms snaking their way around his neck as you kiss him back the way you wanted to the first time he kissed you. His hands move to your waist to pull you closer to him as his tongue ghosts over your bottom lip. 

You part your lips allowing him access to explore the warmth of your mouth while crooking your head to the side as his tongue makes its way into your mouth. His tongue runs briefly over your teeth before it coils with your own and he sucks slightly causing a deep moan to reverberate from your chest and up your throat. 

The sound causes a smirk to curl at the corner of his lips as he parts from you regardless of how badly he wants to continue. He couldn’t help it, he had to see you; and the sight was worth it. The blissful peace on your face as you opened your eyes to look at him was worth it. A smile plastered on his face as he noted the tiredness in your eyes, the slight bags underneath them, and his hand finds your cheek as he places a kiss on your forehead. 

“Let's save the rest for tomorrow, okay? Let’s get you to bed.” He says as he moves to pick you up bridal style. He stands from the couch as your grip around him tightens as he makes his way to his bedroom.

“Leon.” You scold him slightly, but with no real seriousness to it. 

“Tomorrow.” He assures with a little nod, a playful smirk on his face. 

“Tomorrow.” You repeat with a little roll to your eyes.

[fawnsflowerbed]

hi! if it’s alright could I ask about leon x reader where reader thinks leon still has feelings for ada (angst with fluff ending), it's a lot of worries and insecurities and something like "I'm sorry I can't be her" well, in the end leon comforts reader

English is not my first language sorry ahaha I hope I correctly conveyed to you what I wanted <3

So what you're saying is you WANT ME to make you cry.

Challenge accepted.

A night out with friends means a trip down memory lane. But a certain stop on that trip has you anxious, and it's about time Leon said something.

Word count: 1,825

Warnings/content: GN reader, 2nd person (your, yours), swearing, ANGST, sweet ending. re6 Leon onwards shit cause I love that man.

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“More like well over 8 years.”

When Chris had blurted those words out drunkenly at a meetup downtown, you could see the colour drain from Leon’s face in mere seconds.

Shit was about to go down.

After a few months of nonstop working to no end, you all figured it was about time for a few drinks and a good chat with your fellow B.O.W experts. There was no harm in that, right?

What you didn’t realise was Chris was the most blunt and truthful man when his alcohol started to hit him.

It was a simple conversation in the beginning, nothing more than reminiscing over the old times. 

But then someone brought up Ada. You could’ve sworn half the room saw you physically tense.

“God, we don’t need to talk about that.” Leon laughed. “I had a hopeless fling with a woman I chased for a while. Nothing else to be said.”

And then Chris gave that oh so helpful comment.

His statement had you and Leon stealing one solid, tense stare at each other before you excused yourself to the bathroom. Leon swore under his breath, watching your hurried steps over stained floorboards. You went in search of a safe spot, likely to cry. Helena gave you both a look of sympathy.

“They didn’t know?”

He stirred the ice in his drink, mind running a million miles a second through a soft haze of alcohol. “They knew about her. They didn’t have to know about how complicated it was, not yet anyway.”

Once they finally wrestled you out of the bathroom - your excuse for being in there for a solid 20 minutes was that you were okay, you just felt sick - the ride back home was tense. The heavy hum of the heater was all to be heard, neither of you choosing to speak. Not yet, anyway. There was nothing to say.

But when the car pulled up into the driveway and you slammed the door a bit too hard, Leon knew it was about time he said something.

“Love-”

“Don’t. Do not.” You hissed. “The neighbours don’t need to hear what I’m about to say.”

He sucked in a breath, watching as you stormed towards the front door. You were never one to show your anger publicly. He followed suit a few steps behind, mind trying to piece together a coherent answer to the questions you definitely had.

As soon as the door was closed behind you both, he watched you charge for the hallway to pace back and forth. Quick steps in anger. He bit the inside of his cheek. How could he explain this so easily? You already knew about his work in the DSO, and the countless missions he went on. He was just hoping he’d have more time to tell you about Ada. The years of back and forth they’d both agreed to discard. It wasn’t working for either of them, a constant cat and mouse that led to someone getting hurt. Funny enough, a few months after their agreement, he’d met you. And his entire world had been flipped on its back.

It was happening at this very moment, his world tumbling. But not for the right reasons.

“Sweetheart.”

“Eight years? You devoted eight years to a woman, and told me it was just ‘some kind of fling’?” Your voice boomed off of the walls, shoulders squared in defense. “Put your life on the line, put other people’s lives on the line for her? A mere YEAR before we started dating?!”

All he could do was sigh. “Just give me a minute to explain, alright.”

He watched as you folded your arms with a scowl.

“What I’d told you was true. We met in Raccoon City, she saved my ass before ditching me for the G-virus sample. I presumed she was dead. Then she saved me again in Spain. We’d met time after time on the field, but it never really became an actual thing. We were just looking for some kind of distraction, I guess.”

“Oh so that kiss on the tram was nothing to you?”

“That was well over six years ago, hon.”

“And so was you risking your fucking life twice to save her during Tall Oaks and Tatchi.”

Leon stiffened just a bit. “You cannot get upset with me for building a connection with someone before even meeting you, Y/N.”

“I can get upset with you for lying to me about this stuff! Like that you fucked her and DIDN’T TELL ME!”

Leon’s voice caught in the back of his throat. Clearly someone had run their mouth.

You laughed bitterly, tears threatening to fall but you choked them down.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. So much for a fling.” You couldn’t meet his eyes as you spoke. “You think the girls at the office don’t whisper? Don’t gossip about the DSO’s golden boy and his affairs to try and piss me off? Bringing up photos of her file, bitching about our differences. I already know you’re well out of my league, but being constantly reminded doesn’t exactly make me feel any better.”

It was true. Settling in had never been harder when you had such big shoes to fill. You felt like a complete opposite in comparison to Ada, and that hurt. You already had bad self esteem, Leon knew that much. Nights of holding you close as you asked over and over why he was with you.

But shit, he had no idea this had been happening. Bitching behind your back, these people who were meant to be your coworkers. You’d only just started working for the DSO, about 2 months after dating Leon. You’d met during a recon mission in your hometown. There were rumours that a drug dealer nearby was potentially trying to recreate old B.O.W strands, and whilst doing his rounds of the civilians he’d spotted you. He was almost winded. But he tried his best to keep his cool, going through the usual questions he gave everyone else. Your soft eye contact and gentle demeanour wasn’t helping him focus, though. Like a soft breeze after a storm. Helena couldn’t help but laugh, watching him step away after questioning you with a strained smile. Once you were out of view she slapped him lightly upside the head, still smirking.

“Oh you’re fucked.”

Leon rubbed the spot she’d swatted with a sigh. “Yeah, that’s for sure.”

And how it was so true. After years of anger and agony, he’d found a sweet sunbeam in the shape of a human being. A human who dragged him out shopping, forcing him to pick out new clothes because they refused to let him wear the same t-shirt for a week. A human built from broken beginnings that somehow threw his world into reverse, bringing that joy from his 20’s back to his battered body. Someone to hold and caress and kiss, to dance with in the kitchen and pillow fight with and take to formal events. Someone who stole his blue RPD hoodie and constantly teased him over his academy photos. Pointing out how scrawny he used to be before trying to arm wrestle him (and losing instantly). A human sculpted for him by the hand of whatever gods there were, every one from every religion took turns touching up your edges and carving out a person he felt unworthy of calling his. A flower left untouched by the horrors of the world he was forced to face. He needed to protect you, craved it, would starve himself if it meant you thrived.

He should’ve told you more often how much he loved you.

“Sweetheart.”

"And its no wonder. I mean, I barely knew you. For all I know you still love her!"

Your voice broke into pieces. Fists balled as if fighting for your love, body rigid and tears falling.

“So I’m sorry, Leon! I’m sorry that I’m not- I don’t know. That I’m not some mysterious woman you can spend year after year chasing. I’m sorry I’m not confident, I’m not cunning, and I’m an eyesore next to you. I’m sorry if I’m too boring for you and that you settled because you two were always on different sides. I’m sorry I’m not her.”

He’d never known the feeling of true heartbreak until he’d heard you say that. He’d felt something close to this when his ex left him before Raccoon, but not this heavy. Not a weight pulling him into the water to drown him.

You were drowning too. He could see it.

Leon watched as your once defensive demeanour shattered. Your body caved inwards, leaning against the nearest wall for some type of support. He couldn’t stand it anymore. He took two strong steps towards you, taking gentle hold of your tear-streaked face with a look of nothing short of love.

“Look at me.”

You couldn’t bear it.

“Come on, sunshine. Please.”

It was an internal battle, trying to gaze upon the one you love when you had so many conflicting feelings in that moment. Still, you did. Dewed eyelashes took their time to open, bloodshot eyes finally focusing on Leon.

“You are the most beautiful thing I have ever set eyes on. And if anyone has at any point made you feel like an eyesore, then I only hope they go blind. They don’t deserve to look at you, okay?”

His voice was hushed and sweet, as if that of a prayer spoken to some holier being.

But to him, there was nothing holier than you.

“I had no idea what love ever felt like. At first I thought it was my ex before Raccoon, but god knows that was bad. So many people around me seemed to have it all figured out. I thought I’d never find it. But fuck. I have never felt this way for any other person in my life. It never felt like this. If you’d told my younger self that I’d found the person I want to spend the rest of my life with, I think he’d be stunned to see it's someone like you. Hell, I’m still stunned by you.” His mouth blurting words of affirmation quirked into a quick smile. “You’re not her. And that’s why I love you. Because I know you’re here to stay. You won’t run off. Or at least, I hope you won’t.”

Bruised over fingertips swept the running tears out from under your eyes. His touch was something sacred, something warm and giving that kept the tears flowing. Every bottled emotion came tumbling out.

“You are my anchor. You are my rock. You are my shelter after years of chasing broken promises and hopeless dreams of a rookie cop on his first day.” His boyish laugh recalling the day everything went south hit your ears, making you look deeper into him. “And I am so sorry if I ever made you feel like anything less than that. But you need to trust me on this. You are mine, and I am yours. I would not trade you for any person, any object, any sum or wish or miracle in the world. I’m not settling with you, love. I’ve stopped running because I’ve found a place to stay. And I’m staying, forever. You got that?”

Fighting with teeth and tongue to force out a sentence, there was nothing more than a question playing on your lips.

“Even if I can’t pull off red?”

His own lips curled up into a soft smile. His head tilted forward, pressing his forehead against yours that was creased with worry. 

His voice made you smile too.

"I was always more of a blue guy anyway."

[rad1og1rl]

this is lowkey self-indulgent bc i’ve been a lil insecure recently, fem reader in mind. he might be a lil ooc…still trying to figure out how to write him.

re4 leon x insecure fem reader.

tw: insecurities, angst, hurt/comfort, body image issues, body dysmorphia(?). plz lmk anything else.

a deep frown pulls at your lips, dragging down both your mood and leon’s as soon as he notices it. scrolling mindlessly through social media, stumbling upon posts from distant family or friends who broadcast their summer plans.

a bikini pic at a lake, an anniversary on a boat, a date at the beach.

all featuring stunning couples, and girlfriends who love their body, in cute sundresses and revealing bikinis.

you can’t help it…the jealousy that creeps up your back and latches onto your mind like a parasite. disgust with yourself seeping into your brain and face at the idea of your body in any of these things.

the stretch marks, blemishes, hair, and any other imperfections you can find on your body bubble up in your mind all at once, creating a cocktail of negative emotions to sour your mood for the rest of the day.

‘oh god, i couldn’t wear a swimsuit like that. my stomach would hang over. i hate my hips. why do i look so…frumpy..in a sundress, while they look so lovely? feminine, gorgeous, curvaceous or thin.’

still grimacing at your phone, you don’t notice leon’s frown as he slides closer to you on the couch, scooting in to see what you’re looking at. once he sees the obvious problem, he springs into action.

“alright, that’s enough social media for today. no more, princess.”

leon says, grabbing the phone from your hands and shutting it off entirely, tossing it onto the coffee table. he reaches for your hips and brings you closer, nosing your hair softly.

“what’s on your mind, pretty girl? i don’t like seeing you upset, y’know..”

“i don’t know….i just,” you started, feeling so small and scared, tears beginning to form as you buried into leon’s chest. “i just wish i had a nicer body….or a different one. there’s just…so much…that i don’t like.”

leon tenses at this, pulling away from you to look you in the eyes as he grabs your chin to prevent you from looking away.

“you don’t need a different body. you’ll never need a different body. because i love you, and i love your body because it’s yours,”

to further prove his point, he drags his hands down to your hips, the shape you despised and the stretch marks along with it.

“i love these hips because they are yours,” punctuated with a squeeze of the fat.

“i love this stomach and these thighs because they are yours,” accentuated with more gentle squeezes and rubs of his rough finger pads.

“i love your face and your legs and your arms and your back and everything in between because they are yours,” he whispers against your lips, hands finding your forearms and sliding down to intertwine your fingers.

“i don’t care what’s there. i don’t care about your acne or scars or rolls or hair or anything, because they are part of your body. you have so much about it that you don’t like, but i find so much that i can love,”

he kisses your tear stains, moving his hands to cup your face and lean his forehead against yours, closing his eyes and sighing before opening them once more. soft, blue orbs looking at you with so much love and admiration, it’s hard to maintain eye contact without wanting to burst into tears anymore at the idea of someone loving you and your body so much.

“these hands of yours, were made to hold mine. they fit perfectly. like a puzzle,”

“these hips of yours were made for me to hold, and these legs of yours brought you to me,”

“and finally, these lips,” that were inches away from each other, soft breaths warming each other as you glanced at his slightly chapped pink ones, noticing his stare intent on yours. “were made for kissing me, and talking to me with your sweet voice.”

he seals his words with a kiss, passionate but gentle, arms embracing you and strong muscle flexing to keep you in place, to keep the puzzle together.

“everything about you was made for me to love. i have never loved anyone like i have loved you. you were destined for me. there is nothing about you that you should hate, knowing that i love it all. because it’s yours.”

[alessiathepirate]

Pre-Resident Evil 4

CUTS: Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader

Summary: Even if no one seems to worry about them, they can still worry about each other.

Notes: English isn't my first language. I apologize for any mistake I made while I wrote this short story.

Warnings: swearing, mentioned violence, scars, hurt/comfort

•••

The past few weeks have been hard. So fucking hard she felt boneless when she was finally able to sit down and rest, breathing calmly, knowing no one will look for her to tell her to go back out there and continue the training.

It was late. The sky turned dark and cloudy, the anger of the weather introducing itself, warning everyone to run inside. Not like anyone cared about running from anything here. You ran when they told you to run and got inside when they told you to go inside.

She looked down at her hands, her lips forming a sad frown as she noticed four new scars on her hands and palms. Angry red, thin lines ran along her skin what started to turn from delicate to hard and well worked. Everyday new lines appeared to hurt and bleed, only to not be taken care of and be brushed under a rug. She felt like everything she had been dreaming about slowly started to fade away. Fade away so far she couldn't even remember why she wanted that at the first place.

Her fingertips quickly brushed along the bleeding wounds, wiping the little drops of blood away.

"Are you okay?" the voice was so sudden she felt her shoulders tense up, getting into survivor mode quicker then she took her first breath.

She looked up, only to meet with the blue eyes she knew and loved, something that was familiar and comforting.

"Sure. I'm just tired - that's all."

She hid her hands away, behind the wrinkles of the cheep duvet the people around here owned - at least the rookies around here owned.

Leon sat down on his own bed - or cot, because these things for sure couldn't be called beds - what was next to hers. For the first few seconds they just sat there, slowly calming down in the other's presence, feeling the life getting back to them. Then she felt his gaze on herself, blue eyes looking at her arms, at the parts that weren't hidden by the sleeves.

"Show me."

She looked up, meeting Leon's gaze.

"There's nothing to show."

"I know you're lying." she bit her lower lip, feeling helpless at the kind words - they weren't something she has heard a lot. "Please, just show me."

She sighed, not thinking twice as she stretched out her arms towards him, making the new cuts visible. Leon's hands touched hers, one gently wrapping around her wrist as his fingers started to stroke her skin. Her breathing became uneven from the sudden affection, feeling like her lungs started to do their work too quickly.

"Why didn't you go to the infirmary?"

"Because then people will come at me with their bullshit again. Especially Krauser."

She looked away, keeping her eyes on the duvet, but still feeling Leon's gaze on her.

It was true - what she said. She was the weakest one in the program. She had no big muscles, no strength in her arms to pull herself up with on the bars, no knowledge in hand-to-hand combat and she was also a woman. She was always laughed at, teased and pushed around especially by Krauser who seemed to really enjoy making her mad and see the anger unfold in her eyes. And the best part for him - he knew she can do nothing about it, because she is weak.

"Yeah, well I don't care what they think about you. But I do care about you and I don't want you to get an infection."

She looked back at Leon, examining his features, the way his mouth moves and how his eyes shine. She loved that about him - how his eyes didn't lose that shining, that kindness and that positivity; all the things that kept them both together in Raccoon City. She still remembered him in his uniform, with his baby-like features what nowadays was partially lost as they both aged. So young and so kind, yet so broken. Just like her.

"You care about me?"

"Of course I do. How can you even think that I don't?" he seemed a bit hurt and that broke her heart a little.

"I don't know. Sorry."

His hands left hers as he reached under the matress on his bed, only to pull out a small package. She could literally feel the confusion what made its way up to her face.

"You aren't the only one who doesn't want to go to infirmary, you know..." he opened up the package and waved with his head. "Come her and sit next to me, please."

She did what he said and sat down on his bed next to him. Her right leg was touching the floor, but she pulled the other under herself, so she could fully turn towards Leon with her torso. She kept looking at the mystery in her friend's hands and when she realized what he had been hiding, she felt like she's gonna cry.

"I'm not the best at taking care of cuts..." there were smaller, square-shaped band aids in his hands with an ointment and a small towel. "But I'll do my best. I promise. -If you let me, of course."

She looked at Leon with teary eyes as she tried to swallow down both fear and tears and then stretched out her arms towards him without a single word. She knew that if she opens her mouth she'll cry, and that's something she didn't want to do. Not when Krauser can literally smell the dried up tears and then tease her about them as they practice the damn hand-to-hand combat, during which she always ends up pressed to a wall with his knife cutting into the skin on her neck.

Leon was so soft. The softest thing she had in this place with nothing but seriousness and pain. She wished he could get out of here and become the cop he once wanted to be so he can catch speeders on the highway. So he wouldn't have to worry about anything but speeders and giving out parking tickets.

He carefully stroked her skin next to the cuts, then looked up at her face: "Did you clean them?"

She swallowed and hoped that her voice won't shake too much.

"Yeah. I did. I just didn't bandage them."

As she looked at the man slowly spreading some ointments on her cuts and then carefully picking out the right sized band aids, she couldn't help but think about how they met and how their relationship improved throughout the time they spent together. Raccoon City wasn't the best place for a meet up, but the small café they met up at after the incident certainly was. They tried to heal up there, laugh there and try every single type of coffee there... Until they had to join the damn program.

He shouldn't be here. He shouldn't be somewhere so cruel and painful; somewhere where he can lose all the good he has in himself.

"Leon?"

"Yeah? Did I hurt you? I'm sorry if I did."

Her heart started to hurt at the apology.

"No. No, you didn't. I just wanted to say thank you."

"You have nothing to say thank you for."

They smiled at the other softly.

"Now they will certainly pick on me again." she muttered as she examined her hands and palms. They were covered in band aids - every small cut was covered with one white square. Leon made sure nothing was overlooked.

"You shouldn't care. You should take care of yourself, no matter what the others think." his fingertips stroked one band aid on her palm.

"Thank you. I appreciate it. I really do."

Even though they finished taking care of her cuts, they were still holding hands. Her fingers intertwined with Leon's and her thumb was drawing small circles around an old, long healed up scar on the back of his hand.

"You can always come to me if you need help." Leon finally said after moments of silence.

"The same goes for you." she smiled back at him. "Don't be afraid to ask."

"Don't be like you, huh?" he said jokingly with a small giggle. "You can worry about me but I can't worry about you."

"We can worry about each other, because no one seems to care about us. How does that sound?"

"It's perfect."

Leon's grip on her hands tightened a little and then suddenly he softly pulled on her hands, getting them closer to his lips - and when they almost touched his chin, he leaned in and pressed a kiss into her palms, both of them, not wanting to leave either one lonely.

She felt her cheeks burn up.

"I-" she started, but didn't know what she really wanted to say.

"I think you're beautiful with these." he said, referring to the band aids. "Really cute."

"Stop it." she giggled playfully. "How about I put some on you as well? I think you'd look cute with them too."

"Yeah?" one of his hands found its way up to her face, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear.

"Yeah."

"If I want to be honest you look cute without them too. Especially when you giggle at something silly I say."

Her giggling stopped, but the smile stayed even if it turned into something shy and unsure. It stayed there when Leon didn't lean in, seemingly rethinking his actions. It disappeared when she realized the closeness she desired slowly started to back away, his grip on her losing it's confidence and strength. It completely disappeared and turned into something serious when she leaned towards him, following him, not giving up on his touch...

When their lips finally met in an unsure kiss, her right hand shakily touching his shoulder she felt like she found the comfort she had been looking for. The way their lips moved against the others' so slowly, so carefully; exploring the other, yet not wanting to scare the other away made her heart skip a beat. Then it came back - the shaking, the need to cry because her heart felt full, because she finally felt at ease with her pain and aching muscles. She was shaking, because she didn't know what she wanted to do first - kiss him, hug him, stroke his hair, talk to him, tell him how much she appreciates him.

She ended the kiss after the air ran out of her lungs from the sudden love she recieved, but she didn't dare to open her eyes, fearing Leon will disappear. Fearing that he won't be there when she opens them, she'll be there alone, crying, aching for something soft and comforting.

When she felt a hand stroking her cheek she knew he was there. Leon was there and he didn't look like he wants to disappear anytime soon.

"I know it's not the best time or place to say it, but-"

"I love you." the words blew out of her without thinking, not letting him finish his sentence. "God, I love you so much it fucking hurts. And our situation sucks like always, but-"

"I love you too."

And the dam broke. She started to cry. Cry from exhaustion and the overwhelming feeling of finally being loved. She cried when Leon hugged her and she hid her face in the crook of his neck, when he kissed her forehead, when he stroked her back. She cried not caring who will tease her and push her around, not caring how her next training with Krauser will go.

She cried because she finally found comfort.

She finally found peace in that God forsaken place, knowing someone is looking out for her and there is someone she has to look out for - knowing she is in love and she is loved more then she originally thought she was or deserved to be.

[downsteepy]

it's you!

[dmitriene]

𝗙𝗟𝗢𝗥𝗘𝗡𝗖𝗘 𝗡𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗘𝗙𝗙𝗘𝗖𝗧.

❝𝗖𝗢𝗡𝗧𝗘𝗡𝗧❞ 𝘪𝘯𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘭𝘦𝘰𝘯 𝘹 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘱𝘪𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘦𝘮 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

❝𝗦𝗨𝗠𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗬❞ 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘴 𝘓𝘦𝘰𝘯'𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘱𝘪𝘴𝘵, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘣𝘶𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘧𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘴, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘭𝘶𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘧 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘧𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴?

❝𝗧𝗔𝗚𝗦❞ 𝘚𝘔𝘜𝘛, 𝘕𝘚𝘍𝘞, 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧, 𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵, 𝘳𝘶𝘥𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘳, 𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘧 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘢𝘭𝘤𝘰𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘮, 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴, 𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘴, 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘤𝘶𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘴, 𝘶𝘯𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘱 𝘪𝘯 𝘷, 𝘥𝘪𝘳𝘵𝘺 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘬, 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘱𝘪𝘦, 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘣𝘶𝘭𝘨𝘦, 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦.

❝𝗔𝗨𝗧𝗛𝗢𝗥'𝗦 𝗡𝗢𝗧𝗘❞ 𝘮𝘺 𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘱𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘯, 𝘴𝘰 𝘪’𝘮 𝘨𝘭𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘣𝘪𝘨𝘨𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘢𝘯𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪 𝘸𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘮𝘺 𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘯 𝘦𝘺𝘦, 𝘪 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘭𝘭 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘪𝘵, 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨.

 ✎ 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵. 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘴. 𝘢𝘰3. ˑ༄

Within the sterile walls of a government facility, where the faint hum of fluorescent lights echoed through the clinical hallways, you awaited the arrival of one of the agency's most mysterious operatives.

As an experienced psychologist, your days were often filled with routine consultations, but they weren't as intriguing as consulting with Leon Scott Kennedy.

He was a man of deep contrasts, and each meeting revealed a new layer of his enigmatic personality, and it was during one of these routine checks that you first encountered the man whose name was whispered through the agency's corridors.

He entered with the controlled grace of a man who had seen too much, his piercing blue gaze saying much but revealing nothing — Leon Kennedy expressed the weight of his experience in the lines etched on his face, evidence of the trials he had faced.

At first he seemed reserved, as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders — you were keenly observant, noticing how his eyes, usually bright to everyone, seemed clouded with an unspoken burden.

The dark circles highlighted those piercing blue circles, evidence of the sleepless nights and haunting memories that seemed to plague him.

There was a hint of desperation in the air around him, masked by a facade of professionalism — his suit, the color of the deepest ocean, gave off an air of formality that couldn't quite hide the subtle aroma of alcohol, it lingered, an unspoken secret, raising questions that were begging to be asked, but you didn't dared to break professional boundaries.

᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌───────────

The atmosphere was heavy with anticipation, as if a thunderstorm was looming on the horizon as you sat across from him, pen poised over your notepad, ready to probe the depths of his psyche.

But Leon was not one to easily give in to vulnerability, his eyes, once clouded with unspoken burdens, now smoldering with resistance.

The dialogue that ensued was far from the professional exchange you had imagined — as you gently probed him, trying to unravel the layers of his psyche, Leon's reaction was not what you expected.

He clenched his jaw, his blue eyes narrowed with barely contained anger, it was as if you had hit a living nerve.

— «Why are you doing this, huh?» Leon's voice was laced with disappointment with an underlying animalistic growl — «I don't need some psychiatrist digging into my head»

You tried to maintain your composure, to be a steady hand guiding him through the turmoil of his emotions — «Leon, my job is to help, to listen, you don't have to confront your demons alone»

But Leon was far from receptive — his frustration grew and he seemed to be on the defensive again.

His shoulders tensed and his fingers twitched as if he wanted to find a way out of the situation, he was like a wounded animal, ready to pounce on any perceived threat.

— «Don't act like you understand something, Doc» he growled in a harsh and unforgiving voice — «You don't know a damn thing, you have no right to pry into my soul»

Your attempts to contact him ignited a rage within him, a rage that simmered just below the surface, and in a moment of frustration and anger, he pushed his chair back, scraped his feet on the floor, and rose to his feet.

The chair swayed, threatening to topple over, but he didn't care, he rushed towards the door, his movements quick and primal, like instinct.

Before you could say another word, he threw his final statement at you — «It's a waste of time, you can't help me» and with that, he slammed the door behind him, leaving your office in eerie silence, the echoes of his anger still resonating in the room.

It was a tumultuous beginning, a clash of wills that left you feeling like you had failed in your role as a therapist, the air in the room pulsating with the remnants of unresolved emotions.

You were left alone with the remnants of a session that had gone awry, and the notepad in front of you had no answers, only questions that would still take a long time to answer.

᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌───────────

A weight of guilt hung heavy in the air even within the confines of your apartment, a constant reminder that the first session had gone awry.

You were gnawing both as a person and as a psychologist, a constant pain in your chest, and you couldn’t let it go, couldn’t just move on — the thought that you could have driven Leon even further into his own darkness haunted you, and it was a ghost , which you couldn't ignore.

With a deep sigh and a sense of determination, you decided to confront your own remorse, you reached for your phone, your fingers hovering over the keys as you texted Leon.

The words were carefully chosen and considered for minutes, because this is an apology that carries the weight of sincere regret.

«Leon, sorry for our last session, i want to help, can we talk?»

When you hit the «Send» button, you were filled with anxiety — would he read this, let alone respond?

You waited, every minute feeling like an hour until finally a notification buzzed on your phone — it was a message from Leon and he wanted to meet for coffee.

᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌───────────

The ambiance of the cafe was different from your meetings in the office — the sterile walls were replaced by a cozy atmosphere, and the soft hum of conversations became the background to your meeting.

Leon sat across from you with a cup of coffee in his hand and a serious expression on his face.

He was the first to break the silence, his voice measured and contrite — «I owe you an apology, Doc, my outburst of anger at the first session was inappropriate»

In his words one could feel the sincerity, the weight of his regret — «Leon, it's not just you, i should have approached it differently, i'm sorry i put so much pressure on you»

He nodded as if understanding the shared responsibility — «I want to give it another chance if you agree, i've been through too much to let it all haunt me»

So, an agreement was reached.

You would continue your therapy sessions, but this time there was a different understanding between you — there was a flash of mutual respect and determination between you, a shared desire to unravel the complexities of Leon's psyche.

The first sessions were marked by caution - you both proceeded cautiously, aware of the potential dangers, but over time the atmosphere gradually changed, as if a bridge had been built to connect two souls that had once collided.

Your dialogues went beyond the superficial and deepened Leon's experiences.

He talked about the horrors he had witnessed, the friends he had lost, and the scars that remained on his body and soul — the air in your office seemed to carry the weight of his confessions, but you were ready to bear this weight together.

However, the transformation was not one sided.

Your own professionalism began to waver as your connection with Leon deepened — the boundaries between therapist and patient becoming blurred as you found yourself caring for him beyond your role.

It was an unspoken understanding, a shared vulnerability that made the atmosphere even more tense.

The air seemed to crackle with an unspoken tension, a magnetic pull that neither of you could completely ignore, and your interactions took on a new depth, an intimacy that went beyond professional duty.

Every touch, no matter how fleeting, took on an unspoken meaning — a pat on the shoulder to reassure him, the brief brush of his hand on your waist as he reached for something — these moments that should have remained innocent gestures seemed to carried within them an undercurrent of something greater.

The lines that should have remained stable began to blur, the air in the room filled with unspoken desires, unspoken recognition of the attraction that lay beneath the surface.

It was as if the air itself was crackling with a tension neither of you dared name.

Leon's gaze, the way his hand touched yours, or the closeness between you while discussing his past missions all added to the growing tension, he never allowed himself to get attached, but found comfort in your company, in your understanding.

And you, too, struggled with the thinning line between professional responsibility and personal emotions, as your desire to maintain professional decorum conflicted with the undeniable bond you shared with Leon.

And this is what led to the current point of movement.

᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌───────────

The evening began innocently enough — a simple invitation to the bar from Leon, a gesture of gratitude for your unwavering support during his tumultuous journey in therapy.

The atmosphere was light, the bar offering a welcome respite from the heavy conversations that had marked your professional relationship.

As you sipped your drinks, laughter and stories filled the air, the dialogue was casual, and you couldn't help but be amazed at Leon's transformation — he was no longer the stoic agent you met in your office, but a man who knew how to enjoy the simple pleasures of life.

The transition from the bar to Leon's dimly lit apartment went almost seamlessly, as if it was an unspoken agreement — his apartment retained a strange feeling of intimacy that was far from the clinical setting of your sessions.

The dim light cast long shadows, and the air was thick with a palpable tension that had been building for some time.

A red wine stain marred the floor, a testament to the carelessness of the moment, your glasses lay broken, forgotten in the throes of desire, and your dress, once immaculate, was now lifted slightly, exposing the seductive expanse of your thighs to deliberate touches.

Leon's strong hands greedily explored your skin, leaving behind fiery fingerprints, and when his lips met yours, the atmosphere became tense.

It was a clash of desire and longing, a culmination of emotions that simmered beneath the surface, the air seemed thick with anticipation, a silent agreement that boundaries were about to be broken.

His kisses were a celebration, as if he couldn’t get enough of the taste of you — the air was thick and crackling with the sounds of your shared hunger, the intensity of your connection was unmistakable.

His fingers tangled in your hair, his lips leaving a trail of fire along your jaw, neck and back to your eager mouth.

— «Leon» you whispered, the sound barely leaving your lips as his mouth found your collarbone, your desperate call carrying the weight of unspoken desire, a silent plea for more, for everything.

His response was a growl, a primal sound that resonated with longing, and there was an urgency about him that neither of you could deny, and that’s how you found yourself sitting on the edge of the kitchen table, your legs wrapped around him, your fingers tangled in his long dark locks.

The air was filled with sighs and moans, the atmosphere hummed with the undeniable connection that had been brewing between you for so long, and Leon's hands continued to wander, leaving traces of heat wherever they touched.

— «I've wanted this for so long» he admitted, his voice a hoarse whisper against your flushed skin, the echo of his words bouncing off the walls of the apartment, the culmination of months of longing and restraint.

Your answer was silent agreement, a whispered acknowledgment of your own desires as a hoarse confirmation escaped your lips — «Me too»

And this became a green light for him.

᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌ ᠌───────────

With a gentle touch, he runs his fingers along your thighs, slowly moving towards the wet panties fabric that covered your sensitive clit under the fabric of your dress as your gusset gets wetter.

His touches are light as a feather, teasing and causing sensations in your body, he feels the warmth emanating from your body, the anticipation growing with each touch and heartbeat.

— «So wet already from just kisses, huh» he whispers, his voice full of admiration — «So responsive to my touch, fuck, deserve all of my attention»

He continues to tease and stroke your clit through the fabric, his touch becoming bolder and more insistent, he can feel the wetness seeping through the fabric, evidence of your arousal.

His fingers dance skillfully, applying just the right amount of pressure to drive you crazy, pressing and tugging in slow flickering movements.

— «You love it, don't you?» he whispers in a voice hoarse with desire — «So beautiful like that, shit»

His words, a mixture of praise and desire, fuel your own arousal, the sensations he evokes electrifying, igniting a fire deep within you.

You can’t help but arch your back, giving in more fully to his skilled touches as his lips press against the skin of your neck, wiggling his stubble teasingly and covering you with wet kisses.

Leon's touch becomes more focused, his fingers skillfully manipulating your clit, bringing you closer and closer to the edge, and his lips brush against your ear as he speaks — his voice a low, seductive whisper.

— «Come on, cum f'me» he calls, his voice is full of insistence — «Let me hear you»

As his words hang in the air in the mix of your moans, he continues his skilled work, bringing you to the edge of ecstasy, your body trembling under his touch, your breathing becoming ragged.

And your body finally feels like an electric shock, when your legs twitch and your muscles tighten, your pussy clamping and gushing all around your already transparent panties, making you mewl and whine.

As your body trembles from the force of your release, Leon wastes no time in quickly falling to his knees, his strong hands gripping the hem of your dress, pushing it up.

With a quick jerk, he takes off your wet panties, leaving them hanging from your ankles, exposing your wet folds to his hungry gaze and his watering mouth, while he murmured in delight — «Fuck, what a meal»

The scent of your arousal fills the air, intoxicating him as he leans closer, his breath skimming over your sensitive skin, sending shivers down your spine.

His lips part and with a slow, deliberate movement he buries his face in your wetness, savoring the taste of your pussy.

The feeling is delicious as his tongue plunges deep into your folds, exploring every inch with expert precision, his licks confident and purposeful, his tongue sliding over your swollen clit, drawing moans of pleasure from your lips.

His hands reach your hips, holding you down as he devours you with unbridled passion, he is completely committed to pleasuring you and his tongue works tirelessly to bring you to new heights of ecstasy.

The wet sounds of his oral sex mix with your moans, creating a symphony of desire.

Leon's instincts and considerable experience leave no doubt that he knows exactly how to drive you crazy — he knows the right pressure and the perfect rhythm that will make your body writhe with pleasure.

His attention is focused solely on your pleasure, his own desires momentarily forgotten as he devotes himself entirely to your satisfaction, distracted by the pressing sensation of the fabric of his pants around his engorged member in his underwear.

As you feel the familiar spiral of pleasure building up within you again, his thrusts become more fervent, his tongue dancing across your clit, flicking and swirling with such intensity that it pushes you closer to the edge.

His grip on your hips tightens, holding you in place as he brings you closer to another mind blowing orgasm, running along your folds and surprising everything that flows from you as if it were a restaurant and he was in front of a michelin starred dish.

Finally, the wave of your orgasm hits you again, allowing Leon to savor the taste of your pleasure as his lips and tongue greedily absorb every drop and your moans fill the air, echoing off the walls as you give in to the pure bliss he bestows upon you.

When you catch your breath, he rises to his feet, a satisfied smile playing on his lips wet with your juices, and his eyes meeting yours, filled with a mixture of adoration and hunger.

— «You taste incredible» he whispers in a voice hoarse with desire — «And i'm only getting started»

The air crackles with anticipation as he takes a step back, his hands deftly unzipping his pants, and with a quick movement he frees his throbbing cock, the sight of him like that takes your breath away.

Leon's eyes meet yours, a mixture of hunger and tenderness shining in his gaze as he moves closer, the tip of his hard cock caresses your wet folds, covering himself with your slippery arousal.

Slowly, he begins to sink into you, inch by agonizing inch, his movements deliberate and measured as you whimper with desire, and your hands instinctively wrap around Leon's neck, pulling him closer to you for stability in the storm of emotions.

A low, rumbling coo leaves his lips as he feels the tightness of your walls squeezing him, the sensation driving him to the brink of insanity, causing his cock to twitch deep inside you, each thrust a careful dance, taking him deeper into your welcoming warmth and enjoying the feeling of your body enveloping him.

— «Feel s'good» he whispers, his voice filled with a mixture of desire and adoration — «So tight, so perfect for me»

His pace remains agonizingly slow, enjoying the sensations, savoring the intimacy of the moment as he continues to go deeper, your bodies becoming one.

His hands reach your hips, holding you tightly as he begins to move harder, his thrusts becoming stronger and more rhythmic, filling the dim apartment with slaps and squelching mixed with your sweet whimpers as your legs spread wider.

With each thrust, his growls fill the air, a symphony of primality and desire, he encourages you with a mixture of praise and dirty talk, his words mixing with the sounds of your moans.

— «You love it, don't you?» he growls with a strong note of lust as his hand lands on the exposed skin of your stomach where the fabric of your dress has ridden up, exposing the bulge that he gently pressed with his thumb — «Feel how deep i can go, how i fill you up, so nice and full for me»

The thrusts becomes more insistent, his pace quickening as the heat between you intensifies, enjoying the way your body reacts to his touch, the way you writhe and moan beneath him, arching your spine and clinging your nails to his back as your your panties slide down your ankle and onto the floor.

Pleasure courses through his veins, driving him to the edge of both of you, and as the tension builds inside you, Leon's thrusts become more powerful and his grip on your hips tightens, causing your legs to spread even wider and your muscles to clench.

He feels your walls clenching around him, signaling your imminent release, and with one last deep thrust he pushes you over the edge, making your cries of ecstasy mix with his own grunts of pleasure and deep sighs as his cock spurts rope after rope of thick cum in your cunt.

He slips his cock out of you gently, trying once again not to bring you discomfort from being too sensitive while his eyes sparkle with great pleasure from the sight of his cum oozing out from your cunt, causing him to feel a sharp sense of satisfaction, a feeling that spreading pleasantly in the bottom of his stomach like long dead butterflies.

— «Guess i won't let you go from now on» he suddenly whispered, nuzzling into your neck and kissing your skin softly as your body leaned slightly limp against his and his fingers massaged the nape of your neck.

With the strength born from his muscular body, Leon easily lifts you into his arms and presses you against his chest, the warmth of his embrace enveloping you as he carries you to the bathroom, his determined steps echoing across the hardwood floors.

Reaching the bathroom, he carefully places your feet on the cool tile floor, his eyes filling with surprising tenderness as he watches you.

He wastes no time, his hands deftly undoing the buttons of your dress, exposing the soft curves of your naked body to his gaze.

As the dress rolls down to your feet, Leon sheds his clothes, and the sight of his chiseled physique gives you a thrill of anticipation that he sees, causing a playful smile to form on his lips, with which he climbs into the warm bath filled with water, and a soothing warmth envelops his body.

His strong arms open wide, inviting you to join him, and you sink into the soothing warmth of the water, feeling his even warmer presence next to you.

He leans back on the edge of the tub, his fingers gently stroking the nape of your neck, causing a contented sigh to leave your lips, his touch gentle as his fingers gently slide through your hair.

The sensation sends a shiver down your spine and your tired body responds to his help, and as he continues to stroke your neck, you whimper softly, a sign of your exhaustion.

Leon's sudden laughter fills the bathroom, echoing deeply off the walls, and he pulls you closer, his arms wrapping you in a protective embrace as your tired body presses against his, seeking solace and comfort in his presence.

— «There there, Doc» he whispers, his voice is full of warmth — «Rest, i've got you»

His words lull you into a state of calm as the exhaustion from your previous activities finally catches up with you, and the sound of the water softly splashing against the sides of the tub combined with Leon's steady heartbeat lulls you into a peaceful sleep, allowing your eyelids to close.

taglist: @roseglazedlens, @scar-crossedlvrs, @daydreamrot, @cehrie, @kennedyswhore dm me if you want to be tagged in my works or open my taglist

[leonsobsession]

The babygirlification this picture gives is unreal 🫠

[writingwisterias]

Hiking with Leon would be like "oh no I stung my ass on a nettle, I need you to kiss it better"

[narcissarina]

Distanceજ⁀➴

𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚟𝚒𝚎 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚗. 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚝 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚗𝚍.

“Leon?” chat sent.

No messages, it was just delivered. Maybe he's busy.

—Chat sent a minute ago—

“Hey, love. It's me again, I wrote you a letter today and I plan on piling them up so when we finally closed the distance, I could give them to you!” chat sent.

Still no replies, your messages were on delivered but you are positive that he's in a mission. He did tell you beforehand, yet you insist on spamming his dm because it gives you comfort.

Looking back, still no reply. A mission does take a week or a month to finish but you couldn't help but worry and feel a little insecure without his assurance.

You were going to send him another message, “Hey Leon...” your finger froze and continue, “I miss you already, text me back okay?”

Chat sent

—Chat sent an hour ago—

Going hom to an empty house, to an empty phone and empty inbox—no response. It made you overthink, insecure and feel a painful ache in your chest, but writing your feelings down and saying your day to his dm does help, right?

“It's me again, everything just hurts, my love:(” chat sent

“Hey baby! I wrote 5 pages of letter for you, will pack a box for the things I write for you♡”

“Had a rough day from work, wish you were here nor we could call. I miss you so fucking much...”

“I wanna recall many memories with you, Leon. And yet, I couldn't recall the last time we kissed:(”

“baby, are you still there?”

“I miss you, sorry if I'm annoying.”

—Chats were sent 3 days ago—

Coming home from work as usual, leaving you extra tired, depressed and sad. Eyes were puffy from all the crying last night, still no messages from him. Must be hard for two souls bound to be in love with a distance between them.

“Baby, my heart aches, but I want you to know that I'm still longing for you, please be safe.” chat sent

You lump down on your bed, hot liquids starts to form at the back of your eyes as you cry out again. It was a tiring long day and Leon would be the first one hearing your whines and complains you tell about.

But you can't.

And you fell asleep, face down to your pillow and the plush (that looks like him) that he got for you on your side, as you suddenly awoke from your sleep. Phone vibrating as you choke a sob out, throat dry and eyes puffy.

You check your notifications, it was Leon.

Holding back your cries as you read his messages.

“Hey, princess. Sorry for responding so late. I appreciate you spamming my inbox, it made my day to see you speak about your day:)”

“don't worry about it, sweetheart. I'm here now, now what kind of stories will you be sharing hm?”

“I'm sorry, I'll make it up to you okay? I miss you too, baby. So fucking much that I'll lose my mind”

“my baby's very pretty and mine only, don't want your pretty little head be filled with those thoughts. I'm here and you can talk it out with me, what your feeling right now is completely valid:) I love you.”

“You're not annoying. I love you.”

Crying to his messages, no matter how late he is—you are glad that he is well and still the same man you fallen in love with, you read his text as he constantly assures you and replies to every messages you sent to him. Small things matter.

One message did caught you off guard, it was just sent two seconds ago: “open your door, baby. I'm here.”

You didn't believe that, he must be tired from being an agent but you try to humor him and went to your door—although you do feel a bit nervous, when was the last time you two saw each other? Six years ago, that's for sure.

Your door slowly creaks as you open it, eyes wide open and tears spilled out from your eyes as he was standing before you—bouquet of flowers in hand with your favorite chocolate and a big teddy bear beside him, “suprise, happy anniversary.” he spoke in a tired tone and lean down to kiss you and give you his gifts.

You cried, being a sobbing mess you were already are—you place his gifts nearby and jump into his arms, feeling his warmth and skin to yours.

He got inside your apartment, it was a mess and Leon lie down in your bed and you on top of him, refusing to let go. “My baby koala.” He chuckles and kisses your temple, you kept muttering your i love yous to him and spilling tears to his shirt.

“You can stop crying now.” he mutter, sitting up with you in his hand as he felt you clench your hands to his shirt—refusing to let go, you shake your head in response as you stick yourself like a glue to him.

He chuckles and let you have your way, staying like that for a few hours as he finally spoke, “I have a proposal.” he pauses, watching you twitch as your reaction, you hum to him and nuzzle closer.

“Let's live together from now on.”

[amazingmagda]

aww

🩹 let him rest 🩹

[faiszt]

✦ ⠀.⠀° ⠀BOT DUMP :⠀ by⠀﹫⠀faiszt ⠀/ᐠ - ˕ -マ⠀♡

NOTES⠀. ᰰ⠀ hey, babies! just had to stop by to say a huge thanks for the 2K followers on c.ai, love you all 🤍 ˊᗜˋ ~

PS.⠀remember, bots are not real. take care of yourself.⠀🩶

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𝅭⠀who are we to fight the alchemy?⠀.⠀nathan scott⠀૮⠀ god knows how many times nathan tried to push you away from him, not 'cause he didn't like you, but 'cause he liked you way too much—and if he hurt you, he would never be able to forgive himself. but, after all, who are we to fight the alchemy?⠀♡ female!user⠀⠀⠀REQUEST.

▸⠀OUTER BANKS⠀*⠀˖⠀🗝️

𝅭⠀the famous vagabond love⠀.⠀rafe cameron⠀૮⠀he was a walking problem that everyone knew about and you were the opposite, the breath of fresh air his numb lungs needed—the only person he genuinely cared about. even if your conservative parents tried to keep you away from him, he would never accept being away from you for a single day, he was yours.⠀♡ female!user⠀⠀⠀REQUEST.

𝅭⠀late-night stalker⠀.⠀rafe cameron⠀૮⠀what place could be safer than your own home in a friday night? no people, no unnecessary noise, just peace... or rather, don't be so sure about "no people". after all, you just walked into your room and rafe is right there... just waiting for you, his angel.⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀♡ gender neutral!

▸⠀RESIDENT EVIL⠀*⠀˖⠀💀

𝅭⠀best friends⠀.⠀leon kennedy⠀૮⠀you, a rookie cop, are leon's only friend and by god, he doesn't even know the difference between a friend and a best friend, but you are genuinely the highlight of his tiring life as a federal agent.⠀slightly insp by aaron warner.⠀♡ gender neutral!