#「♡」 Leon Kennedy

[merriepy]

'•.° You would always be Leon's first choice. Sure, he COULD pull every person in Resident Evil (if he knew how to) but he doesn't because he has you.

The one person who was been with him since the beginning. The one that loved him unconditionally, no matter how much he changed. The one that saw him as a their first choice.

Why wouldn't he choose you out of everyone? All the others could gush over him like crazy but he only has eyes for you, his future fiancé that would be with him for the rest of his life.

He would wake up every morning before you, no matter how early that might be, to catch a glimpse of you before leaving for work. He loves watching you sleep, how peacefully you breathe and how steady and calmly you heart beats underneath your skin. Everything about you is perfect to him, and everything about him is perfect to you.

In his whole world is only you, and not a single person could ever come close to competing with you, for your are constantly on his mind and in his heart. He would always tell everyone how tasty the last dinner was you made for him when he returned home late, how you were kind enough to do all of his chores since you felt like he deserved a break, how you always were so kind to him even when worked stressed him out. He doesn't even notice just how much the talks about you and it's the most adorable thing ever. He's just so content with you being his that he doesn't even recognise when other people try to flirt with him.

For him, there's only you~

[harrymasonsdadbod]

THE WAY HES STANDING IS KILLING ME

LOOK AT HIM

[wr0wn]

♡♡♡

[angel-cryptid]

me when I remember my fictional crush has a canonical love interest:

[mrsperv]

Saw you were taking requests and decided to drop on in! I’ve been really trying to push the “Leon loves goths” agenda and just wanted to see if you had an ideas for cute rookie!Leon having the hots for a goth. You can make it as sfw or nsfw as you want. I just can’t stop thinking about smothering him in black lipstick kiss marks ahh.

ROOKIE! LEON KENNEDY & GOTH CHICK

∿ warn . nsfw under cut, riding, tit sucking, leon calls you mommy!

this is a drabble! so the quality isn’t very good :(( vaguely proof read too so WAAA BUT I HOPE YOU ENJOY! 3k words :33 when i tell you i CHEERED when i saw this in my inbox, i’m being so fr! i’m a proud goth so seeing the goth chick agenda being spread.. UGH! the dream don’t play. goth girl x leon is so real.. WRITING RULES | PINNED

when leon first saw you, he couldn’t look away. he really did try to tear away his gaze from you, but he physically couldn’t help but ogle at your outfit and overall disposition. he’s never seen someone with that sense of style you had outside of media — he vaguely knows what goths are, he’s seen goths displayed in movies and shows, like nancy downs in the craft, or late at night when mtv played the cure.

it was surprising to see you in raccoon city, with clothing that made it seem like you had just stepped out of a funeral and heavy eyeliner that made you resemble the dead.

in a midwestern small town, you don’t often see people with alternative fashion, and seeing you in full gothic attire was like finding a needle in a haystack.

it was almost funny how mundane setting was, leon had just stepped inside the local coffee shop near the police station to grab some coffee before his shift, and here you were, tucked away in the corner of the shop idly reading a book. he would’ve expected to see you at the local hot topic or the morgue, but no, you were just.. reading.

your nose was stuck inside a stephen king novel, carrie, leon thinks — he couldn’t make out the cover words as he stood by the cashier counter.

you were listening to music too, leon saw the cassette resting on the table and the headphones that covered your ears, he wondered what were you listening to. the cure? honestly, that’s the only gothic band he knows, he mainly focuses on listening to grunge, maybe the NSYNC when he needs a change of pace. would you hate that? frown down at him because he likes the occasional boy band? he hopes not.

leon was snapped out of his thoughts when the barista called out to him, “sir, can i help you?” she asked sweetly, tensing in surprise, leon looked back at the woman and cleared his throat. “oh, uh, yeah!” he said quickly.

after giving the barista his order, he paused, glancing back at you. you still read, blissfully unaware of his glances, “hey, does she come here often?” leon whispered as he turned to face the barista, subtly gesturing over to you. the barista raised her eyebrow as she looked over leon’s shoulders to you. “occasionally, but only at night.. some of my workers are convinced she’s like a vampire or something.” the woman laughed, mocking you as she looked back at leon. “what? is she scaring you, officer?” she teased, a small grin coming up to her lips.

leon shook his head, “no, no—“ he paused, “..what did she order?” he asked, realizing how stupid he might look.

the barista’s grin faltered, not expecting that response.

“uh.. vanilla coffee, why?” she questioned.

“can i add that to my order?” leon asked, he wanted to talk to you, and he wanted to seem as natural as possible to not seem like some creep.

the barista paused as she glanced back at you, “oh, yeah! yeah, of course, is that all?” she asked as she took her notepad out again. leon nodded his head, raising his hand to scratch the back of his neck, “uh..yeah, ma’am, thank you.” he said quietly, nodding his head at her once more to show his gratitude before he took out his wallet.

after paying, leon stood by the counter, stealing glances over at you. once the coffees were ready, leon perked up and took them, walking over to your table.

once he reached your table, leon cleared his throat, holding the two steaming cups of coffee as he thought about what to say.

“excuse me?” he called out, hoping to get your attention from the book without having to stand there awkwardly. he had one mission tonight: to get your number.

while you read, you noticed how a figure had come up to you by your peripheral vision. taking your attention away from your reading, you looked up to see who was bothering you. you weren’t expecting to lock eyes with a police officer, it was the last thing you expected. tensing, you were startled, why was there a police man looking down at you? you hadn’t been a disturbance to the shop.

furrowing your eyebrows, you put your book down and took off your headphones before pausing your cassette.

“can i help you?” you asked, distaste clear in your features.

leon just stared, baby blue eyes taking in how pretty your makeup was. it wasn’t full traditional gothic glam, yet the detail in your eyeliner and perfectly coated black lipstick was impressive. leon bit the inside of his cheek before he took in a deep breath and shifted, “uh,” what was he supposed to say? “sorry, i was watching you earlier—“ horrible start, leon! “— and i just think you’re pretty, i like your..makeup and clothes.” he stammered. god, get it together, kennedy!

you paused, the tension in your shoulders releasing, that’s not what you expected at all.

as someone with alternative fashion, you’ve had your fair share of problems with people of authority. the world seems to love assuming that you’re satanic and plan to burn down churches, you’re nothing more than a girl that enjoys indulging in gothic media. from songs, to books, to movies, and make up. it’s just who you are.

nonetheless, having a cop, out of all people, compliment you was endearing.

you eyed the chubby cheeked cop, noticing the two cups of coffee in his hands. he was cute, with those bright blue eyes and preppy look, “aw, thanks.” you began, a small smile curling on your lips.

“what are the two coffees for?” you mused, your eyebrows raising in interest as you looked at the cups.

leon pursed his lips and glanced away, damn, why was he was acting bashful? looking back at you quickly, he let out a breathless chuckle, “i got one for you,” he said, offering you the cup. “thought it could help break the ice.”

you reached out and took the cup off his hands, a small laugh leaving your lips, this guy was charming.

“it’s working,” you mused before putting the carton cup to your lips, you took a small sip, a hum of delight leaving your lips as the warm liquid touched your tongue. vanilla, your favorite. “how did you know i liked vanilla?” you questioned.

leon shifted, “lucky guess?” he said, deciding not to mention he asked the cashier.

squinting, you nodded before putting the cup down. “so.. what do you want officer?” you asked, wanting to know the motive behind his actions, leon moved his hand up to scratch behind his neck. “i was hoping to get your number?” he said, looking at you like a hopeful puppy.

“you want my number?”

“yeah, i wanna get to know you better.”

a small smirk curled on your lips, “alright, officer.” you said, reaching into your bag, you slipped out a pen before reached for the table napkins.

leon watched intently, you swore his eyes seemed to be sparkling.

“i don’t know your name.” you pointed out while scribbling your number down onto the napkin, leon straightened up, “oh, right.. leon kennedy.” he introduced himself, glancing over at his digital watch. leon mentally winced as he realized he was already late to work.

nodding, you finished writing your number before standing up. “alright, leon, i’ll wait for your call.” you hummed, glancing at him with a small smirk before grabbing your bag and coffee. handing him the napkin, you walked away, leaving him staring at you like a lost puppy.

you were so pretty and confident, an air of mystery followed you that made leon want more.

taking the napkin in his hand, he read it.

xxx-xxx-xxxx — call me ;)

just then he realized, he didn’t know your name.

your room was chilly, closer by nine inch nails playing in the background, the song was muffled and quiet, leon’s focus was completely on you.

his lips were pressed against yours, making out with you sloppily, a moan slipped past his lips as the two of you kissed. his hands were wrapped around your body while you straddled his lap. leon’s body was hot, you were taking the lead with this and he didn’t mind — your body pressed against his while your arms were wrapped around his neck.

the kiss was eager and messy, leon’s hands resting against your back as they clutched the back of your lacy black bra, shaky hands trying to work on taking off your bra.

once oxygen began to come between the two of you, you pulled back with a gasp, a string of saliva connecting your lips before you pulled back, your hands moving to cup his face as you looked down at him. panting, leon’s eyes locked with yours, your black lipstick smeared, coating his bruised lips.

a small smile curled on your lips before you aided him with unclasping your bra, quickly tossing it to the side, your tits perking in full display. “like ‘em?” you hummed, moving your hands to cup your breasts and push them up, leon’s eyes widened when he noticed two barbells adorning your perky nipples — your nipples were pierced and his cock was aching.

nodding like an idiot, leon shuddered, “y-yeah.” he confirmed, his hands moving to cup your breasts, greedy hands squeezing the mounds of fat, watching as the fat poked through the gaps between his fingers. he groped them like a hormonal teenage boy that’s never had a face full of tits before.

“they’re soft..” leon mumbled, squeezing and fondling.

letting out a huffing laugh, you plucked his greedy hands away from your perky tits and reached down to his pants, his denim jeans pressing tightly against his clothed cock.

shuddering, leon glanced down with wide eyes as your smaller hands palmed his cock.

a soft moan left leon’s lips, his hips twitching upward against your touch, eager for more. you moved your hand up to the zipper of his pants and expertly undid the button and zipper, leon wondered how many people you’ve been with before him. your movements were eager and precise, you had experience — it made leon’s heart tumble as he realized he didn’t match your level, yet a blossoming excitement filled his tummy.

you were going to make him putty in your hands and he was excited.

hooking your fingers on the elastic band of his pants and underwear, you tugged down the fabrics, a shaky gasp leaving leon’s lips as he felt his cock spring up from the restraints.

his throbbing cock stood proudly, the tip sticky with pre-cum while the tip blushed a rosy color.

your hand wrapped around his cock, giving him slow pumps before your gaze locked with his, “you have a pretty dick,” you mumbled, your lips curling up in a playful smile.

leon trembled, his hands moving back to clutch the black comforter of your bed. leon’s cheeks burned red as he looked down at your hand as you stroked his cock. looking up at you, he shuddered, “b-baby,“ he mumbled, “m’need you.” leon babbled.

“yeah, baby?” you mused, slipping your hand away from his cock to nestle yourself properly on his lap.

“you need me?” you repeated.

leon nodded his head, baby blue eyes lidded as he stared at you.

“s’much, please.”

you bit your bottom lip and hummed, moving to grasp his cock again before moving your hand down to your panties and pushing the fabric aside, quickly adjusting yourself above his aching cock, you lowered yourself, his tip kissing your folds.

leon was a pretty sight, he already looked fucked out and you haven’t even put his cock in, there was something about your boyfriend looking so shaky and needy under your touch that made your cunt throb. your pussy was wet and sticky, eager to feel him around your warm walls.

leon’s hands moved to your hips, his large hands squeezing the fat of your hips eagerly.

“c’mon, please, baby— please.” he pleaded, trying to roll his hips up to try and slip his cock inside your pussy.

“aw,” you smirked, tilting your head to the side, “relax, i’ve got you.” you teased, babying him.

in one swift movement, you slipped down onto his cock, a small moan of relief leaving your lips as your cunt sucked leon’s shaft eagerly. you’ve a handful of dicks inside you before, so it wasn’t uncomfortable, but leon’s body trembled.

feeling your warm walls hug his girth snugly made leon see stars.

he threw his head back as a choked moan left his lips, his eyes shutting tightly as he got accustomed to the feeling. holy shit.

panting, he squeezed your hips tightly, leaving crescent shaped marks on your skin as he dug his nails into your flesh.

“f-fuck—“ leon stammered, his eyes fluttering open and meeting your gaze. his breathing was shaky and you haven’t even moved yet — he really didn’t have much experience. leon has fucked before, he slept with his ex-girlfriend every now and then but her libido was low and leon was hormonal, the most solace he got was a hefty amount of lotion and his fist, but this? this was fucking brain altering.

slowly, you began to roll your hips again his, a soft breath leaving your lips as you felt his girthy cock push against your walls, savoring the feeling.

letting your hands rest against leon’s chest, you dug your black manicured nails against his pale skin. leon wasn’t shy about his pleasure, the moans leaving his lips were needy, whiny, and loud.

“like that?” you moaned, glancing down at him as your hips bounced against his, his cock slipping in and out of your pretty pussy, the tip pressing flush against your cervix, giving it kisses with each roll of your hips.

“y-yes,“ he gasped.

each roll of your hips felt like a surge of electricity slipping through leon’s veins, “s’good—“ he slurred, clenching his jaw as he let out a heavy breath. his grip on your hips remained tight and firm, his hips rolling up against your own, desperately trying to match your pace, but it was sloppy.

you let out a soft sigh, moving up to cup his face in your hands, leon’s gaze moved up to your face, big blue puppy dog eyes meeting yours.

smirking, you moved your chest to his face, moving his head against your plush tits.

getting the message, leon eagerly popped one of your pierced nipples into his mouth, his warm tongue pressing and flicking your bud like a baby. he moved his hands up to your waist, holding you close while he suckled eagerly.

shuddering, you let out a moan as leon sucked on your tits.

continuing to bounce on his fat cock, leon was seeing stars. being able to suck on your fat tits while your cunt actively sucked his cock back inside was making his brain fuzzy while a tight coil began to form inside his tummy.

he moaned against your skin, his balls beginning to tighten while his cock throbbed.

“gonna cum, m’gonna cum, mommy—“ he moaned, his cheek pressed against your tit while his saliva coated his skin.

he was too pussydrunk to realize he called you that, but you heard him. your eyebrows raised in surprise, “mommy?” you mused, a small smirk curling in your lips, “gonna cum for mommy?” you teased, moving your hand to the back of his head, your finger tangling between the locks of his hair. you pulled on his hair, pushing him away from your tits to look into his eyes.

leon nodded eagerly, his hips rolling against your hips.

“yes, mommy.” he gasped.

a small laugh left your lips before you let of of his hair and continued to bounce on his cock, “go ahead then, cum for mommy.” you babied, pressing your lips against his forehead, your black lipstick staining his skin.

leon moaned, his eyes rolling back as his lips parted, his lips were glossy with his saliva as his hands moved down to your hips. he gripped your body tightly as he began to maneuver you, guiding your hips against his as he fucked his hips upward.

his movements were sloppy, leon’s brain zeroing in on chasing his high.

the coil in his tummy began to tighten, he was desperate, forcing you up and down his cock like you were nothing but a pocket pussy.

you were surprised by the sudden change of pace, sometimes you forget that leon is much stronger than he seems. gasping, you felt your cunt get fucked with each thrust upward, your tits bouncing at the force while the sound of your pussy squelching around his cock got louder.

whimpering, leon bit his bottom lip harshly, he was right at his peak, and with one final thrust, he pulled you down onto his cock before his cum spurted out.

his tip nuzzled right against your battered cervix, his cum filling your pretty pussy up. thick, sticky, and milky.

leon’s back arched, his toes curling while his body trembled. he gasped and panted, a deep groan leaving his lips. he hasn’t cum that hard in forever, actually— he doesn’t think he’s ever cum that hard, his head was swirling while his body shook with the aftershock of his climax.

you let out a small moan when leon slammed you down onto his cock, your breathing steadying as he filled your cunt up with his cum.

after a few seconds, you felt leon’s cock slowly getting soft inside you, but you didn’t make any attempts to move. “leon?” you mused, feeling leon nuzzle against your chest again.

“yeah?”

you hummed, slowly moving to roll your hips against his again, his body immediately tensing as his sensitive cock got rubbed against. he squeezed you and gasped out a choked breath, wanting to stop you, needing a break to get down from his high, but the words were stuck in his throat.

“you’re getting me a plan b later.” you moaned, smirking as you felt him tremble.

tags 〜 @rigorwhoring @nilpill @cubedkennedy @ottermarbles @dollivication @dilfmaagnet @v0lturiaq @maes-mind555 @antagonize-me-motherfucker @luvrgreyy @arminsbf @sprawberry @xxfritzz @flutterylust @angelstargel @cockiiess @ghosty-the-doll @crystaksack

[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.⠀🩶

▸⠀CHALLENGERS⠀*⠀˖⠀🎾

𝅭⠀crybaby, crybaby⠀.⠀art donaldson⠀૮⠀pathetic and needy, like a lost puppy since you broke up with him. he's lost count of how many times he's heard that he should "get over you", but he couldn't—he needed you, and he needed to know if you still loved him.⠀♡ gender neutral!

𝅭⠀the last time⠀.⠀patrick zweig⠀૮⠀having and not having something with patrick sounded almost the same, since one night you were everything to him and the next day he didn't even answer your calls. you swore that this would be the last time, until he knocked on your dorm door again.⠀♡ gender neutral!⠀⠀⠀REQUEST.

▸⠀FORMULA 1⠀*⠀˖⠀🏁

𝅭⠀non-spanish, yeah?⠀.⠀carlos sainz⠀૮⠀a trainee journalist and the opportunity to interview a driver for the first time, it was a chance that couldn't be missed, right? yes, well, of course, you just had to make sure you didn't embarrass yourself and he had to make sure he didn't flirt with you.⠀♡ female!user⠀⠀⠀REQUEST.

𝅭⠀monaco’s it couple!⠀.⠀charles leclerc⠀૮⠀rumors and more rumors, people were always talking about your relationship on the internet and since you stopped going to see the races, they just assumed you had broken up. until the monaco grand prix brought more than just a victory for charles.⠀♡ female!user⠀⠀⠀REQUEST.

▸⠀ONE TREE HILL⠀*⠀˖⠀🏫

𝅭⠀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!

[ovaryacted]

me and a friend were talking about Leon during classes today and I couldn’t get dad bod Leon out of my mind😪 I need it bad

I just imagined him coming home tired after a long day of work and needing and relief and just letting reader suck him off or bending us in half, being all soft and warm and I had to stop thinking about it because I was getting distracted😭

-🐏

MDNI/18+. NSFW. | Vendetta! Dad Bod! Leon x fem! reader CW: blowjobs, fingering | WC: 1.1k

I've been meaning to answer this message for a while but haven't had the energy to properly decipher my thoughts. But yeah ram anon, listen I've been in a serious dad bod Leon phase which is all @larvamars fault with their recent drawings. I have moments where I'm at work and my brain just goes "mmm, Vendetta! Dad Bod! Leon" and I lose focus so I get it. It's just something comforting about him having a stomach and thickness that you can grab on to. I need it bad.

Stepping through the front door, the agent walked over the threshold of the entryway and closed the door behind him. Lowering the zipper of his leather jacket, he tossed it over the back of the couch and trudged towards it, plopping himself down with a heavy grunt. Leon placed his head against the edge of the couch and inhaled before exhaling out of his mouth, fingers pinching at the bridge of his nose as his eyes fluttered closed.

Today was a pain in the ass, the cycle of continuous bio-weapon debriefs and missions gave him a run for his money and an unwanted migraine. All he had been thinking about was coming home and cuddling with you, rotting away in bed together until the next morning. He missed you, he always did, and lately, you have been the only source of release from his pent-up stress.

"Leon? Is that you?" He heard your voice filter through his thoughts, lifting his head slightly from where he rested to skim your silhouette.

"Yeah baby, it's me. Come here," opening his arms out for you, you didn't need to be told twice to move, gravitating towards him and situating yourself over his denim-clad lap.

"Rough day?" You asked him, thick arms wrapping around your waist to bring you closer to his warm chest. He breathed in and breathed out, your scent filling his senses and easing his ticked nerves.

"Something like that," he groaned when you rubbed at the base of his neck, lightly massaging his nape. He gripped your thighs and caressed you, the rough material of his fingerless leather gloves contradicting his needy touch.

"I missed you today," he confessed in a tired whisper, kissing softly along the side of your neck, his affectionate side coming through.

"You did?"

"Of course I did. Needed to come home so you can take care of me." He squeezed your body a bit harder, the tension he felt building up and flowing to another region down south.

You hummed in contentment, hands running down from his neck to the softness of his chest and towards his lower stomach. He knew he didn't have the same physique from a few years ago when he was younger, the extra weight counted on with time and his figure began to expand. It initially bothered him and it took him a long while to fully look in the mirror again. But to you? It just gave you more to grab, more to hold, more to love.

"Yeah? Need me to make you feel better baby?" You leaned forward the slightest bit, giving him a sweet peck and his hips a teasing grind. The corner of his lips curved in a smile, his dimple shy of making itself known along with the growing bulge hidden underneath his jeans.

"Mhm. You're the only one that knows what I need," he gripped onto your hips, meshing his lips with your own and urging your mouth open to make room for his tongue. You could taste the faint traces of whiskey left behind from when he snuck a sip from his flask earlier, not that you minded.

He was always touch-deprived, always greedy for more but you never complained. You were more than inclined to please him the best way you knew how.

Propped on your knees in front of the couch, you bobbed your head over Leon's cock, a daily occurrence it seemed, and one of your favorite things to do. The fingers of one hand grasped at the thickness of his thighs, a soft layer of fat over the muscle he sported so frequently. The other was busy rubbing at your clit beneath your cotton shorts in tight circles, moaning with every pass of your tongue over his length.

"Feels so good sweetheart," Leon said above you, his neck strained with the way his head was thrown back, clasping your jaw to guide your movements over him.

“Open wider for me baby, want to be deep in there,” he commanded, instinctively relaxing your jaw until he hit the back of your throat with ease, gagging before repeating the act over and over again.

“Fuuuck, that’s it,” he hissed, shifting his attention downwards to watch you suck him off. 

You held his gaze then, following up his happy trail and his lower tummy, admiring the way it folded and creased from the way he slouched. You focused on the stretch marks that made a tantalizing path around his hips and his biceps, lines you wanted to trace with an imprint of kisses. Whimpering at the thought, you drooled around his length, his pelvis becoming a mess of spit from the amount that dribbled out of you. You moaned loudly when you slipped two fingers into your pussy, wishing you had something more to fill the empty ache between your legs.

Leon grinned at the sight of you craving his touch so badly, paying attention to the telltale signs of you reaching the edge with the way your hand pumped in and out of you.

“So desperate for me, poor thing hates being empty,” he patronized you, the pleasant hum you gave him sending his hips jerking into your face. It was only a matter of time before he spilled down your throat and made a mess of you—just the way you wanted.

“Don’t worry. I’ll feed ya, honey. Just a little bit more and you got me,” Leon grumbled, fucking up into your mouth with an audible plap plap plap. Your throat constricted around him, his balls hitting your chin with every thrust he gave you. Eyes rolling into the back, you focused on regulating your breathing when he slammed your head down to press your nose into his pubic hair as he came.

“Take it, fucking take it.” He practically roared from his release, pudgy stomach and dense legs flexing from your touch, your nails digging into him and leaving crescent marks. You choked as your walls clenched around your digits, in tune with his climax and your own hitting you with a dull cry.

As gently as he could, he drew you away from his softening cock, letting you catch your breath with a light cough. Your lips felt numb and your eyes were bloodshot with tears, but you’ve never been more satisfied, a dopey smile evident on your features.

“How about I return the favor now? Gotta clean up the mess my girl made.” He proposed with a smirk, affectionately wiping away the spit that stained your cheeks along with the tears that left their streaks.

This was why Leon liked coming home to you. You’ll always be there with open arms, an open mouth, and open legs.

©️ ovaryacted 2024. Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI. Support your fellow creators by reblogging, commenting, and liking!

[cursedcatvibes]

SWEET BELIEFS

re2r!zombie leon x survivor reader

word count: 7.2k

summary: Leon turns into a zombie and has to learn to navigate how to live as one, while doing this he comes across you and your group of survivors. What will he do when he eats your now dead boyfriend's brains and falls head over heels in love with you enough to make you become like him?

tags/warnings: 18+ only please. I don’t want any controversy, minors DNI. Smut, Angst? Fluff for a paragraph or two. Descriptions of blood and gore. This could technically be considered a bit of Necrophilia? Implied suicide. Pain kink, Leon kinda takes a few bites out of reader. Slight non-con. Mentions of breeding but it doesn’t happen. AFAB reader, I tried to keep it as gn as possible.

A/N: hii so like i am absolutely awkward when it comes to writing smut to be honest, like it’s a bunch of thoughts that have to go into positions and the dialogue. i’m still a little unsure how to work tumblr and i feel so old. I took very very heavy inspo from warm bodies, one of my personal favorite movies. (I pulled up the script and everything so if you've seen the movie and are like hey.. word for word, bar for bar, YOURE NOT WRONG)

Songs I listened to while writing (just so you can picture some scenes with what songs I was feeling):

Sweet Beliefs - Cyann and Ben

Yamaha - Delta Spirit

Midnight City -M83

Hungry Heart - Bruce Springsteen

happy reading!

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Leon was a determined man; he could do mainly anything he set his mind to if he tried, and he did. He would do everything in his power possible to stop the spread of this virus, well, he tried anyway. He knew that he couldn’t do much to begin with, but he always had a small sliver of hope that he could. Stupidly he braved his way forward after the car exploded, promising Claire to meet at the police station. How naive. Is the two words he uses as he thinks back to that same day.

He held his Matilda gun in both hands as he made his way towards the front gate of the R.P.D. He grunted audibly as he shut the gate and then proceeded to lock it. He turned around to face the front of the building in partial awe, a bitter expression souring his face. This is where he was meant to work, to protect and serve the people and yet he never got a chance to properly even start to accomplish that task. 

With a heavy sigh Leon stepped into the building and looked around the main lobby, taking note of the shudder to his right that had a large warning with blood splattered on the floor, he grimaced and walked up to the small computer on the front desk, watching the cameras to see some guy flailing around a small notebook with the promise of a way out inside of it. 

Leon typed away on the computer to find out which room the guy was in and felt his heart sink a bit when he realized it was being blocked off by that same shudder he had saw earlier which was definitely not ideal but if he wanted to help get a cure he had to first escape with as many survivors as possible, so he inhaled sharply and opened the shudder by a lever with shaky hands, his grip on his gun tightening.

The shudder only opened enough for him to crawl under, so he pulled his flashlight out and crawled under while shining the light around, biting his bottom lip anxiously as he stood up from the floor and made his way to the room where the guy was, which unfortunately was behind another shudder. 

Leon holstered his gun quickly and manually forced the shudder open enough to pull the other officer out from, but unfortunately he was too late because the zombies had caught up to the guy on the other side and all the pulling from both ends along with the pressure of the shudder on the guys pelvic area ended up splitting him into two, leaving Leon with the upper half and the zombie with the delicious bottom half. 

He immediately felt sick, just staring at the blood and organs leaking out from the guy's poor body. Yet he forced himself to look away once he grabbed the small notebook from the guy's dead hand. He gasped softly when he saw that he needed to collect three medallions from different statutes and put them into the main statue in the lobby to unlock a secret path. 

Leon quickly pocketed the notebook and stood up, silently disappointed in himself for not saving the guy and making a quiet promise he would find a cure and try to save everyone else. He turned towards the door he entered, only for the door to swing open and a zombie to come barreling through, without hesitation Leon shot the zombie in the head and darted off, his main goal? Get back to the damn shudder that led him to this damn area in the first place.

As he ran, he bumped into two zombies, he panicked and shot one in the head and kicked the other one in the stomach to stagger back enough to fall on the floor. Leon heard a window break and started running towards the shudder, he could see the main lobby light peeking out from beneath the small sliver.

He got down on his hands and knees and started to force the shudder open, fear and adrenaline pumping through his veins. Yet he couldn’t get it open much with just his hands so he pushed his upper body through it and placed his palms flat on the floor, forcing it open enough with his back, almost crying with relief as he crawled through.

That relief was short lived as his leg was grabbed from the earlier zombie and before Leon could try and either shoot it or attempt to squirm away he felt this horrible pain shoot through his leg. A loud scream erupting from his lungs, he scrambled for his gun and shot the zombie, standing up quickly to force the shudder shut. He whimpered in pain as he limped over to the medical beds in the main lobby. 

He could see the blood seeping through his pant leg and when he rolled the fabric up, he almost vomited at the sight of his flesh missing. Apparently while he was crawling and squirming it caused his pant leg to bunch up a bit to expose skin and a bit of his pants fabric was missing from where he was bit. All the hopes of saving everyone and being the help people needed went down the drain. He’d seen enough zombie movies to know he was going to turn within a few hours and this whole thing was pointless and stupid. 

He glanced down at his gun, breathing heavily as he brought it up to his temple. “I won’t become those... Things.” He whispered to no one but himself, tears welling up in his eyes, but he was too chicken shit to kill himself. He burst out into tears and laid back onto the bed, sniffling softly to himself. He failed. For the first time in his life, he failed to protect someone. 

That was the last thing he remembered as a human as his eyes got droopy, fluttering shut every once in a while, before finally shutting, taking his last breath. 

When he awoke, he gasped as he rose up, clenching his hand over his heart, taking no note of the fact his heart was no longer beating anymore. He glanced down at his hands and saw they were paler than usual, he figured it must’ve been a nightmare or maybe he was immune. Otherwise, how did he survive a whole zombie bite? 

He got off the bed and grabbed his gun once more he was able to find a sharp object to use to pry open a door, he carefully stalked through the West Office, pulling his lips into a thin line as he tried to be as quiet as possible but when he stepped onto an empty plastic bottle his head shot up towards the two zombies in the room that roused up from their sleep. Leon fumbled for his gun getting ready to shoot because he was not about to be bitten or eaten alive, only for the zombie sleeping at the police desk to shush him. “Sleeping... Shush.” The zombie grumbled tiredly before going back to sleep. 

Leon’s jaw dropped in awe, why hadn’t they attacked? Why could he understand them now?! All the scenarios ran through his head at once and he could only land on one possible one. With a panicked look on his face, he rushed out and sprinted up to the second-floor bathroom, the zombies lingering in the hallway ignoring him, grunting and groaning out broken English to each other. 

He threw the bathroom door open and walked towards the mirror, finally looking at himself. It finally made sense to him now. It only took one look at himself to clearly see that he too was now a zombie, a hideous creature like the rest of them. Yet he didn’t look busted and beaten up, all his facial features were still intact and none of his skin started rotting, although some joints of his were stiff, assuming the rigor mortis set in for him if he were to be an actual dead corpse, but he wasn't. 

His reality came crashing down on himself and he couldn’t even cry, dead things don’t have emotions anymore.

-

Upon watching the news for a few days, months, years? He wasn’t sure anymore, everyday blended into one and after a while he stopped caring, he was dead now. He made a few zombie friends, those…people? Helped him adjust to the new life he was forced into fairly quickly. Almost like a family, every zombie was family, it didn't matter if you weren’t related or what you looked like, if you were a walking corpse you qualified as family. 

But if you were human, you were considered bad, an enemy, a meal. He learned that humans managed to build a wall to keep zombies out while they tried to start civilization anew, hoping to repopulate. Though some rebellious teens often snuck out beyond the walls and became a meal or turned into a zombie, or people ransacked through old buildings in hopes of coming across supplies, fortunately for zombies they could sense humans by smell from miles away, just most were lazy and didn’t want to die a whole second time for a worthless meal, unless the humans were in groups. 

Just like your group.

Out ransacking a place for medicine for some members of your community that fell ill and just extra medicine just in general. Leon was rather hungry as he walked with his usual horde of zombies towards the building you and your friends were in. He was quite happy because it smelled delicious. (Having grown accustomed to eating humans at this point.)

It didn’t take long for the horde to break down the door to the room you were in before they started attacking, gun fire ringing through the air, yet if it wasn’t a headshot, it didn’t matter much. Leon made eye contact with you when a zombie in front of him got shot in the head. Once he locked his eyes with you, he was smitten, he hadn’t felt like this since the day he arrived in the city. He felt… determined. He was absolutely fascinated with you enough to spare your life from being taken by him, he watched your beautiful eyes widen before sliding away behind a counter to hide. 

The moment was short lived as some annoying guy shot him, Leon growled and pounced on the guy, ripping him to shreds within seconds, eating the yummy brains he got through hard work, blood all over his mouth, hands, and clothes. As he chewed on some of the guys' brains, he indulged in the memories he got from them, for some reason if you consumed the brains of a human you get to see, experience, and feel all their past memories stored in that part of the brain.

Yet as he silently ate the brain’s he started seeing you in this guys’ memories, your sweet laugh, the soft and tender kisses between you both, even when you guys had sex. Leon’s eyes snapped open at the last part, gasping softly at the stirring in his loins. It wasn’t strong, no. But it was very faint, and for a moment he felt human again. 

It didn’t take a miracle for Leon to figure out he ate your boyfriend, he gulped down the brains in his mouth and pocketed the rest, all while chaos ensued around him, people dying, gunfire, stabbing, crying, shouting. None of it mattered. He could feel the amount of love your boyfriend had for your coursing through his veins as he crawled over to you. 

He saw the look of horror on your face as he spotted you, slowly crawling over to you because your gun had jammed, and you ran out of stuff to defend yourself with. He sat right in front of you and watched as you leaned back with a scared and disgusted look on your face. He frowned slightly and leaned closer, placing his bloodied hand on your cheek, making sure to smear you in your now dead boyfriend's blood.

In a hoarse and cracked voice Leon then spoke up. “S-Safe... Now.” He stuttered out, it had been a while since he had to use that word that he almost forgot it. He wanted to keep you safe, he now claimed you. It didn’t take long for the other zombies to grab the brains and other pieces of human body parts before they got ready to leave, sniffing around to make sure they couldn’t smell any more alive humans. 

He carefully took your hand and placed his bloodied finger over your lips. “Shh... Come.” He muttered softly, it hit him that he hadn’t spoken in full sentences or English in a while now, zombies understood each other by just grunting or groaning, they did speak in broken English sometimes. 

“What?” You whispered in confusion as he helped you up and walked you alongside the pack of zombies. He held onto you tightly with an expressionless face, guiding you along with the group all the way back to the police station, very determined to keep you as his own. He took you to a small space that no one really lingered at. Luckily, he had claimed this space, so no other zombies dared to go back there out of respect for when Leon wanted to be alone. The other zombies didn’t suspect you either, to them; if you smelled like you belonged then they thought you were one of them, plus they’re brainless idiots too, who is gonna know the difference if they don’t have the intelligence to figure it out.

Leon stared at you with uncertainty in his eyes, wondering if it was really the best idea to bring you back here of all places. What he did know was that he was super happy to even have a human in his vicinity, even if well you did attempt to kill him.

“This is... home...” Leon said softly, crouching down in front of you on the floor, trying to figure out how to explain he wasn't going to eat you. He pointed at you and then himself, chomping his teeth a few times. Cringing internally when you looked even more horrified, so he repeated the motion once more. “Not... eat.” He mouthed quietly with a soft expression in his eyes.

“Keep you safe.” He stated firmly, his eyes darting away from your gaze awkwardly. He got up and searched the room for some canned goods he had stored away when he first turned into a zombie. Eating humans disgusted him and he really didn’t wanna try to figure it out, so he tried to eat normal food, but that was never no use. He always spat it out with a disgusted look on his face, it tasted horrible.

He found a large can of fruits, smiling happily as he brought it over to you with a knife. You shakily took both items from his hands, being extremely cautious around him still because you were still unsure. Plus, it’s not like he looked like a model, you were sure that if he wasn’t covered in blood and didn’t have a few pieces of his cheek missing he would be close to a model. 

He was cute in a sense, like a dog almost. But you didn’t trust him, not yet at least. Zombies were the things you were warned about. With a reluctant sigh you stabbed the knife into the top of the can and ended up prying it open. You glanced up at him as you used your fingers as a spoon, catching his eyes dart away nervously. 

You pulled your lips into a thin line before letting out a small chuckle. “I guess you’re not all that bad, Mr. Zombie.” You snorted, watching Leon sit down in front of you. He scratched gently under his chin, a habit he never grew out of even when he was undead. He also learned that if he scratched too hard then his skin would fall off. 

Which is why it looks like a cat scratched the side of his cheek; it would’ve been a cool scar if it healed. But he was dead... So, nothing could scar... Or heal.

“My name...” He murmured, trying to think back on what his name actually was. It had been so long since he actually heard his name or even said his name that he forgot what it was. You on the other hand perked up a little bit. “You have a name?” You asked, sitting up a little straighter. He nodded and tried to think back on it. “L...” He elongated the first letter of his name because that’s the only thing that came to what little mind he had left. 

“Leonard? Lachlan? Landon? Leroy? Lawrence?” You started listing off different names that started with an L that came to mind, hoping one would stick but he just kind of shook his head before blinking a few times. “Familiar.” He narrowed his eyes before shaking his head, he almost had it but just as soon as he thought he did he lost his train of thought.

You sighed and ran your clean-Ish hand through your hair, eyes roaming over his body before you saw what looked to be an imprint of a wallet in his pocket. Your eyes widened slightly, and Leon noticed your gaze at his pants. He got excited for a moment, thinking you were checking him out or trying to look at his dick. He would gladly show you if you wanted!

He watched with excitement as you moved your hand out to his crotch area, he wasn’t sure if he was prepared! What if you didn’t like what you saw? Could he even have sex? So many questions racked his brain, each making him more excited than the last. Until... Your hand swerved to the left of his pants, aiming for his pocket as you tapped the stiff object. His face dropped in disappointment, but what was he thinking? Why would you even want to think about such an ugly hideous monster in such an intimate way? “Can I?” You nudged your head towards his pocket, and he nodded in slight defeat. 

You took out the wallet and flipped it open, looking at his ID. If you thought he was partially cute before, he was definitely cute now. You had to hide the blush that was threatening to sprout on your cheeks, quickly shaking it off. You redirected your attention where it was supposed to be aimed at. His name. 

“Huh. Leon Scott Kennedy.” You murmured aloud, watching Leon perk up with excitement as his name came back to his brain. “Yes! My name...Leon!” He pointed at himself happily again. He nodded and gently took the wallet from your hands. 

His eyes settled on the ID photo, and he felt a small wave of sadness wash over him, it wasn’t even his fault he turned but he supposed he turned in the least painful way possible, the most unscathed too. Some people had their limbs pulled off their body and some people had been halfway eaten alive because the damn zombie wanted their organs and not the brain. 

Yet he felt this was the closest he had come to crying ever since he turned into a zombie. He had tried everything he could do in his power to cry, and none of it worked at all. It mostly just damped his mood.

But even now he could not get that tear he so desperately wanted to fall from his eye. He shut his wallet and stuffed it into his pants pocket again, looking away from you awkwardly. He was going to say something until he watched you look out the window with your own longing look.

He wanted to comfort you but didn’t know how, plus he definitely didn’t want to be called or considered creepy. So, he turned around and pulled out some of the stashed away brains in his jacket pocket, he popped a big piece into his mouth like it was gum. He was able to divulge in a few new memories that your boyfriend had.

His eyebrows scrunched up as he could see your dad happily welcoming your boyfriend into the family, having a serious conversation while also celebrating your dead mom's anniversary. Then the memory faded out until he came back to reality because you had started talking to him. 

“I want to go home, Leon.” You stated firmly, your gaze still peering out the window for a bit longer before turning around to stare at him. “It’s n-not safe...” He warned you once more that going outside was not a good idea at all and you were stubborn and set on leaving. 

You sighed rather heavily and rubbed your face as you tried to figure how to explain it to him because he was quite literally not the brightest tool in the shed, and it wasn’t even on purpose either. “I get that.” You paused before continuing. “And look… I know that you ‘saved’ my life. And I'm grateful for that. But you walked me into this place. So, I know that you can walk me out again.” You narrowed your eyes at him as you waited for his response, you had a solid argument through and through. Leon knew that but didn’t want to let you go.

His poor brain scrambled for an answer, he didn’t wanna lose you. “H…h… have to wait. They… They’ll notice.” He blurted out as best as he could manage. You weren’t the happiest person on the planet with that answer, but it was better than staying with him permanently. 

“How long?” You questioned, sitting down in front of him as he kept his eyes trained on you. “F.. f.. few days. Th.. they’ll forget. You’ll be o-kay.” Leon tried to reassure you and he sounded quite serious about this. 

You nodded with a firm tight-lipped expression. “Fine. A few days it is then.” You responded quite tiredly. Leon was a bit eager that you bought into his lie, why wouldn’t you? No one else could sway you to believe otherwise since he was a zombie and you believed he knew everything about every zombie in this post-apocalyptic world. 

The next few days consisted of the both of you doing fun things to relieve your boredom, he showed you his fun little trinkets and items he collected during his time as a zombie just so he could feel a little human again and you in turn showed him the fun things humans still did that he forgot about.

But all good things must come to an end when he got distracted roaming around outside the safe place, he took you to find some more food and perhaps a better blanket, it was a big police station, something had to be there. But when he arrived back a while later with the objects, he was shocked to find you missing when he deliberately only went out while you were napping or sleeping so he didn’t have to stress about you running away.

He pursed his lips into a pout before he heard you scream, he immediately dropped the stuff in his hands and rushed off towards the direction of the scream, finding you surrounded by zombies. He panicked and grabbed a fire extinguisher, whacking the other zombies in the head in order to protect you while you stepped out the way to avoid being attacked or injured in some way possible. 

When he was sure he killed the other zombies, he dropped the fire extinguisher and huffed softly, wiping the blood away from his face and hands onto his already bloody clothes. Leon snapped his head up towards your direction with a frown on his face. “You said a few days. It's been a few days, Leon.” You demanded answers, you were feeling restless after all. “I have to go home; I have a family. A family that's on the other side of that giant wall that keeps creatures like you out of it.” You tried your best to explain it to him, but he didn’t want to hear the nonsense. He wanted you.

He took your hand in his own cold and stiff one, tilting his head at you fondly. “S... stay t-together.” He smiled as best as he could manage while guiding you to the parking garage. “We leave.” He tapped his wallet again and then took you over to a hoodless red car that had the keys still in the ignition.

Leon wanted to drive but he wasn’t very sure in his abilities and as if you read his mind you spoke up. “I'll drive.” You exclaimed cheerfully, hopping into the driver’s seat while he got into the passengers. He took the parking garage keycard out from his wallet that he often used to go out and explore carefree and handed it to you, which you gladly accepted. 

-

It had been a few hours since you and Leon left the police station, a clear destination in mind for you. That same wall you referenced earlier. You could’ve gotten there before midnight, but it had started raining and the heater in the car crapped out. “Dammit it, I’m freezing...” You grumbled in slight frustration, but Leon wasn’t cold at all. Corpses don’t get cold, which is an added bonus sometimes.

You glanced around and realized you were in a neighborhood close to home, well not super close but close enough to finish driving the rest of the way there.

“Full disclosure, I am exhausted beyond, and I want to warm up before I catch hypothermia. I’m not a corpse you know.” You teased, smiling a bit as you informed Leon of what was about to happen. He nodded and gave you a thumbs up.

You were still a little uneasy around him, but he was growing on you. You pulled over into a random driveway and hopped out the car, shivering as the cold wind paired with the rain blew harshly against your skin. Leon followed right behind you, albeit a bit slow but he still followed along.

As you approached the door you silently hoped it was unlocked, because who the hell would lock their door after being evacuated in a zombie apocalypse? 

Unfortunately, it was locked, and you seriously considered busting the door down, you took a step back but stayed beneath the awning of the front porch, rubbing your hands up and down your upper arms to warm yourself while searching for a window that wasn’t boarded up to break into.

Leon on the other hand was confused why you didn’t just open the door considering he got there a little after you did. “What's... wrong?” He questioned, staring at you with his usual cute look of curiosity.

Your eyes darted back towards his own and you purse your lips tightly as you explained that the door was locked. “It’s locked, I can’t get in it and I’m searching for a window-” Before you could even finish your sentence Leon slammed into the front door and it swung open. You were stunned. Could he always do that? If so, why hadn’t zombies come in bigger hordes to storm the wall keeping the rest of humanity alive.

Leon turned towards you when he opened (broke) the door for the two of you, but mainly you. It’s like he was expecting some praise for helping you out. He was a good zombie after all! 

With a small smile on your face, you patted his head. “Thanks Lee.” You crooned, the nickname easily slipping past your lips as both of you sauntered inside the house while Leon closed the door behind the both of you once inside.

You desperately rubbed your hands together for a shred of warmth, Leon took note of this and frowned. He wanted to help you warm up but how? His brain (what was left due to deterioration) searched for an answer and came up with one possibility but didn’t know if you were going to want to do that. After all, he was let down earlier with the whole wallet situation.

“Let’s go upstairs, I’m dying to get out of these clothes and under a blanket.” You emphasized your point by tugging on your soaked shirt. Leon being Leon let his eyes roam over your body, admiring the way it clung to your skin before noticing you were walking away towards the stairs. “O-Okay.” He murmured, tailing after you like a puppy.

Once you reached upstairs you asked Leon to make sure no other zombies were in any of the rooms, you survived this far. No way in hell were you going to die in such a pathetic way. It's the first rule of the apocalypse, be cautious and also know your route to escape if you do encounter a zombie. You can thank Zombieland for that warning, it did amuse you in some odd way.

Watching some guy who was surviving a zombie apocalypse thinking it would never happen but never say never. It felt like some sick joke that sometimes didn’t feel real until you encountered a zombie, then it felt a little too real.

Speaking of zombies, here comes the cutie who waddled back with a shake of his head. “No zombie!” He exclaimed, pointing to a room at the end of the hall. "Bed.” He said simply, putting his hand on your lower back to guide you inside the room. You didn’t protest it at all, hell you would sleep on a rooftop if it provided you with good enough shelter along with a decent bed at this rate.

After a quick check of the mattress to discover it hadn’t rotted much, and a bedsheet was over it so it added a decent layer of protection as well, you sat on the edge of the bed while Leon sat on the floor like usual, wanting to make sure you were comfortable.

“I’m gonna get undressed. Don’t look.” You ordered firmly, hoping he would understand. You smiled when he nodded and turned your back to him while he turned his head away long enough for you to see he did before he turned right back towards you.

Leon wasn’t an idiot; he knew very well what he was doing. He was once human too after all, plus he would feel stupid if he let this rare moment slip away from his grasp, it had been too long since he saw actual decent tits and ass, most of the other zombies who were women were all rotting and very unappealing to him. He’s sure you would look so beautiful if you looked like him. 

You on the other hand were completely oblivious to Leon’s plan or the fact he was ogling you like you were his next most delicious meal, and in a way... You kind of were. 

Nonetheless you stripped down to just a bra and panties before curling back into the bed and under the blanket, shivering quietly while hugging your legs for warmth still. It was so silent between the both of you. So silent you could hear your teeth chattering echo throughout the room.

Leon sat on the floor awkwardly, wondering what to do with his newfound feelings. You never banished him from the bed, nor were you shying away from him when he touched you recently. Maybe this time he could get what he wanted from you, right? He would have to eventually.

A very confident Leon rose up from the floor, you watching with furrowed brows in confusion. Was he going to leave the room? But to your surprise he curled up in bed with you, his cold dead hands sliding around your waist to cuddle you from behind, you instantly stiffened up from multiple things, the fact he was cold, and his hands were resting on your belly and the fact he was so close to you like this. But after a few moments you relaxed and leaned back into his touch.

Leon felt like he was over the moon when you reacted positively at his touch, he could smell your scent, your musk and if he had a consistent blood flow, he was sure it would’ve all rushed down to his penis. Luckily for him he could make his body stiffen up in places or even all over in general. Lord knows how many times he escaped second death by doing this neat party trick when humans tried killing the groups of zombies he was in. He never left unscathed though and caught a bullet in his shoulder once. But it never bothered him because he didn’t feel it. It did piss him off though. 

He was so tempted to take a small bite of your sweet supple flesh; he had been suppressing his desires for so long now it was becoming unbearable. “Such a temptress...” He thought to himself, rubbing his hand up and down your waist gently, easing you up to his touch in small doses. 

You were feeling pretty sleepy but a part of you was getting a little turned on, you hadn’t had sex in a while even while your boyfriend was alive so any touch from a male was enough to set you off, even if unfortunately, that male was a zombie. But it was different somehow, he was gentle. Plus, he was cute so that definitely didn’t hurt either.

You guess the only plus of the whole situation was the fact Leon wasn’t breathing super loud in your ear like a fat pig. That’s what your now dead ex(?) boyfriend did, and it was a major turn off because it sounded like he was dying every time he was moaning or even came. 

Not a word was spoken between the two of you as Leon’s hand drifted lower to cup your inner thigh, the two of you looking down at his hand on your body. He whimpered softly at the warmth between your thighs. “M-May I?” He pleaded; he can’t remember the last time he was this nervous. Oh wait, yes he can. The first time he met you and a few hours earlier when you pulled that little stunt of disappearing on him. He thought he lost you forever. 

Not this time. 

Not ever again. 

You gulped quietly and looked over your shoulder at him nodding slightly, breathing out a soft yes. 

Leon was happy, he felt a warmth within himself in his chest area, well maybe if he had a beating heart it would feel way better, but he can’t get greedy now. Not after he worked this hard to get to this moment.

It had been a while since he had sex, things with his ex-girlfriend weren’t so great before he came to Raccoon city. He silently apologized if he was a bit rusty. Though as soon as his hand slipped beneath your panties, and he heard your soft gasp when his fingertip brushed against your clit it's like all his knowledge on how to please a woman came back to him.

He tightened his grip on your waist with one hand while the other dipped down to collect the slick leaking from your hole, using it as lubricant to swipe at your clit as best as he could, hoping to pleasure you. He figured he was doing a good job when you pressed your face into the pillow to muffle a moan.

That wouldn’t do at all!

Leon removed his hands from you and sat up, pouting a bit as his ego inflated from the soft whine of confusion left you. “I wanna..” He paused and looked down into your eyes. “So pretty...” He thought to himself. 

“Sound.” He pointed at your mouth; it took a second for it to click but once it did you nodded. “Right, yes. Sorry.” You blushed at his comment, for a zombie he seemed sure of exactly what he wanted. Even if he wasn’t good at it verbally.

Leon smiled and climbed on top of you, running his knuckle against your cheekbone with a delighted expression. You nuzzled against the gesture, a small part of you was calling yourself a freak for even enjoying this and the bigger part was you telling that other part to shut the fuck up.

Your hands came up to cup his face, being mindful of the piece of flesh missing from his cheek, he appreciated the gesture, but he couldn’t care less if you touched the wound. He rested his weight on his forearms to grind his cock against the wet spot on the gusset of your panties. A soft moan left your lips and if you weren’t so scared of getting bit you would’ve kissed him, but you didn’t want to tease him and him end up biting you.

You were so eager and desperate though that you yourself disregarded foreplay because you were definitely wet enough. You helped Leon strip down to nothing, admiring his toned body, ghosting your fingertip over the bullet wound too. He was embarrassed and shied away from your wandering eyes.

“You’re so handsome, Leon.” You confessed, watching his eyes go wide with his head snapping back towards you with a hint of vulnerability beneath them. “Really?” He tilted his head at you while you discarded your bra and panties somewhere in the room. 

When you met his eyes, you leaned forward to kiss his cheek, nodding while dragging your fingers through his soft but slightly matted hair, trying to ignore the fact you might’ve tugged a bit too hard that some strands actually fell out. It was just another reminder that you were literally about to have sex with a whole zombie.

Leon cleared his throat as best as he could while positioning himself between your legs to rub his cockhead between your folds. Low moans escaped both of you before he slowly pushed himself past the tight muscle that relaxed with ease. Leon swore he was in heaven, that he died for a second time and that heaven was you.

So warm and wet. Is literally all he could think of.

You on the other hand couldn’t get over how good it was, but that lingering guilt still bubbled at the back of your mind. You shoved those thoughts down and wrapped your arms behind his neck tugging him closer towards your body.

Slowly he started to thrust into you, he tried to be gentle, but each thrust was hard and rough. Punched out gasps and moans filling the room each time his hips met yours. “D-Do you like...?” He asked quietly, burying his face into your neck, holding his desire to bite you at bay. He had to remind himself it wasn’t a good moment. But seeing your bouncing tits and flesh so close to his face was his breaking point.

“Y-yes... I love it–AHH!” You screamed at the end of your remark, feeling tears well up in your eyes at the pain of being bit. 

Leon cursed himself for doing it, but he could only hold his primal desires at bay for so long. “What the fuck did you do! G-Get off of me!” You shrieked, trying to fight away from his grasp but he was much stronger than you. Immediately pinning your wrists down to the mattress with one hand, shaking his head as he continued pounding into you.

“I'm s-sorry!” He apologized profusely but his hips never slowed down. “Accident...” He whimpered coyly as you kept struggling. 

You felt like an idiot, who in their right mind would trust a zombie after all? You. You did and now you were reaping the consequences. 

As much as you hated to admit it, the blood loss and the blood around Leon’s mouth was making you dizzy with pleasure. It didn’t take long for your struggling to cease; you knew you would ‘die’ from blood loss but the adrenaline in your body was fighting while blood gushed out from the bite on your neck.

Leon let go of your wrists shakily to test if you would harm him but when you didn’t and you just laid there looking up at him with a hazy look in your eyes, he felt like he was on top of the world. In one swift movement he put your ankles over his shoulders, putting you into a mating press damn near with how feral he was fucking you.

The lewd squelching sound of your pussy was enough to send him over the edge, but he can’t cum, he lost that ability the day he died. He was upset he didn’t meet you earlier, he’s so sure that you would look so perfect with his child in your belly.

“You’re going to be just like me...” Leon hummed, concern brewing in your belly when he started getting easier to understand. Was this really it? You weakly protested against the idea when his thumb pressed against your clit to get you to have one final orgasm. 

He tilted his head to the side to lick up your calf all the way up to your ankle, suckling on the area he wanted to bite. Without much thought he sank his teeth in your leg, right where he was bit. What was more romantic than having matching bite marks?

You jolted from the pain mixed with pleasure, weakly crying out Leon’s name. “L-Leon... Stop it...” You pawed at his back as your back arched off the bed, feeling the life slowly draining out your body the faster your heart pumped out blood from such a stimulating touch, your body temperature lowering to almost eerily match his own.

He could feel your gummy walls squeezing the non-existent life out his cock and he threw his head back in pleasure, groaning loudly as he doubled down on his efforts, he could tell you were close. 

He wasn’t wrong though, you were so close to reaching your sweet release, the bedsheet and mattress soaked with your bodily fluids. Blood and your arousal forever staining the sheets. “P-Please my Goddess...” He squeaked out, leaning down to lick at your neck, lapping up the blood oozing out. 

Your body was getting weaker and weaker, eyes fluttering shut longer than they were open as you slowly died beneath him, yet right before you took your last final breaths as a human you came violently around his cock, feeling utterly spent and satisfied as you drifted into an unconscious state.

Leon sat up straight, staring down at your lifeless body with a small amount of concern. He had never turned someone into a zombie before, so he wasn’t sure if he actually killed you or not. He pulled his cock out of your hole, admiring the creamy white ring around the base of it.

He ran his fingertips over the bite mark on your leg, sighing in content, his eyes drifting up your body to admire your glistening folds. He glanced around nervously before leaning down to lap at your cunt, moaning softly at the taste. "Gosh..." He could definitely eat you up.

He whimpered in frustration when you didn't stir awake after a few hours (minutes), placing small kisses on your belly with a pout, wrapping his arms around your waist while he laid on top of you, covering your naked bodies with the blanket. 

He kept your hand outside the blanket, staring intensely at it. 

“Please move. Please move.” He thought anxiously, finally after what felt like eternity, he saw your fingers twitch and he felt relieved. He smiled fondly at the sight, kissing your sternum with a dopey grin.

You were going to be with him for eternity. <3

[roseglazedlens]

⦑ THE FUCKING DEAD ⦒ 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞

➠ series masterlist | 🔃girl’s route | 🔃boy’s route |

𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓┇𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐑┇𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐅𝐈𝐂┇𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐒𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐀𝐃𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 LEON S. KENNEDY & CARLOS OLIVEIRA X AFAB GN! READER ADA WONG & JILL VALENTINE X AFAB GN! READER chapter synopsis: You are amongst the top five selected for this infiltration to take down Glenn Arias. An argument unfolds between the agents and you are forced to pick a side. chapter content: smut in next chapter, resident evil: vendetta spoilers, zombies, haunted mansion, explicit themes throughout this series. a/n: welcome to my second series!! (need to finish my first one oops) on a thursday one month ago, i thought to myself 'zombie threesome hehehe', then i took the idea and sprinted with it and this series is born. so, uh... zombiefuckers rise up?? « 3.3 k words | general masterlist | ao3 | reblogs appreciated! »

Millions are dying—Mass infections are happening across the globe swamping the streets with an unbeknownst fear. The symptoms of this virus are faint, indecipherable next to an x-ray of a man who is perfectly healthy. Not even the carrier themselves are aware of how the virus lies underneath their veins, dormant, until a click of button is pressed from a commander far away, then their symptoms worsen: a headache, a cold, veins turning purple as the poison hatches in them, spreading, until the only thing that can manoeuvre their limbs is the word: KILL.

That’s the greatest strength of this virus. Anyone can be infected, and maybe, you already are.

This product first reached the underground market three months ago. Called the A-Virus; a bioweapon succeeded in the market for its ability to infect targeted communities remotely and leaving no evidence on the perpetrator, which no other distributors had successfully produced before.

Engineered by Glenn Arias, the researcher sold over thousands of this bioweapon, becoming a billionaire overnight at the cost of lives lost from the whims of the rich. He supplied the wealthy and corrupted, like insatiable brats, with new remote-controlled monster trucks, who only aims to tear down families and have their victims beg mercy to a monster that will not speak reason.

Hence, this problem brought attention to a global scale, having the DSO come in alliance with the BSAA and other independent mercenaries to hunt down the vaccine and put a stop to Arias’ grand schemes. Handpicking five agents who are equipped with both experience and skill to combat a zombie attack on this scale of doom and urgency.

Those five agents are Jill Valentine, Carlos Oliveira, Leon S. Kennedy, Ada Wong, and you.

A plan is already in place. A distraction concocted with your intel and the help of a senior researcher of all things bioweapons, Rebecca Chambers. While Arias is busy attending fake business meetings on the other side of the world, the five of you will infiltrate his private mansion to retrieve a concentrated sample of the A-Virus. Rebecca can use the sample to reverse engineer it into a cure and send her findings to facilities across the world.

The plan sounds brilliant in writing, but when you arrived his private mansion in Queretaro region, Mexico, something is off about this place.

Arias is a mastermind, you had been warned many times, in which you appropriately prepared all your best gear for this mission to treat it with utmost gravity. You’re thinking armed guards, well-equipped security, BOWs. But when the five of you pushed open the front doors of his mansion, it was quiet.

Empty. Not a single soul. Just five of you greeted by the whisk of wind through weakly hinged windows that somehow makes the humid air stick to your skin further. Did Rebecca get the wrong info? No one lived there. From what you heard when you were in town, not even the locals dare to venture anywhere near the odd gothic mansion on the top of the hill. They said it’s abandoned, cursed, rumoured to whisk away young children if they ever step foot inside.

It’s a story they say to stop the naughty kids, you remind yourself. It’s not haunted. And you’re not a kid anymore.

The inside is abandoned. Cobwebs lay thick between cornices and carved columns, the floors laced with a film of dust on the luxurious dark wood flooring, creaking with worn age as you take each step. Besides the chandelier, every single piece of furniture is either the same colour of black or red, or nothing else. The soft red velvet upholstery and the rug are made with the same fabric. And you can find the same dark wood in every corner of this house. It’s in the tables, the shelves, the chaise, the painting frames, and stone-like head sculpture whittled with the same exact dark wood, ridged the exact uniform way.

Then, you look at the wall. Black patches of mould smearing across the burgundy wallpaper like a crime scene.

Something creaks behind you. The hair on your arms stands up as you shiver, immediately followed by a wave of embarrassment. Despite the number of times you had taken down hordes of incoming zombies like they’re cardboard targets, why is a bit of wind freaking you out? It’s not a ghost, just old foundations, maybe mice, or wind kicking something off a table, like how every old house sounds like. You look around to see if anyone else catches you jumping at nothing, before Jill says, thankfully unaware of your worry:

“God, the smell. What have they done to this place?” Her hand flies over her nose as if that will help to shield any smell whatsoever. Unfortunately, the building is moulded far beyond salvageable that the stench lingers in every part of the mansion.

“I’m sure it’s not that bad. We get weeks-old corpses in body bags every day. It’s absolutely retching.” Jill’s earpiece fizzes into life, and she recognises the familiar playful lilt of Rebecca’s voice on the other side of the line.

“At least that’s refrigerated and contained, Rebecca. This fucking stinks.” Jill scrunches her face like she just ate something unpleasant.

“I’m sending my sympathies from my well-conditioned lab right now.”

Carlos appears from Jill’s behind, placing a firm, teasing hand on top of Jill’s shoulder. His wavy curls catch in the wind and his teeth glistens sparkly white. “Yeah Jill, got a problem with my natural musk?”

Jill shrugs his hand off, grimacing at his attempts at flirtation. “Take a shower first, then we’ll talk.”

In which Carlos laughs, holds his hand out at his heart as if it was just torn into shreds. “That hurts my feelings, Jill. Why aren’t you ever saying things like that to pretty boy over there?”

“I have a name, Oliveira.” The blond man turns around at the call of his nickname, familiar with the nickname, but it's not pleasantly received by him.

“I think pretty boy suits you more, Kennedy.” Carlos replies, a glint in his voice that hints something a bit less than friendliness between them.

“Ah, so you do know my name.” Leon quips back while staring directly into Carlos’ eyes, before getting cut off by Jill.

“I would, Carlos, but if I have to hear one more corny ass comeback from Leon’s mouth, I’ll throw myself out the window right now.”

“Takes a genius to get my humour.” Leon smirks.

Your eyebrows raise almost immediately to chime in. “Erm… I think we have different meanings for the word ‘genius’.”

Quiet chuckles ripple through the room. It helps that you have worked with these guys throughout the years and had come to know and get close to them—some a bit closer than just friends—but none of them are strangers by far. Usually, you would be working with only one or two of these guys, never in a big group like this, but it seems that everyone is already well-acquainted with each other.

You toss a glance at Carlos and catch him staring at you, smiling. Ah, you see now. Carlos must have been trying to lighten the mood because you had been jumpy ever since you had arrived. You nod at him, a silent thank you before the five of you venture deeper into the eerie atmosphere.

The goal is to arrive at Glenn Aria’s office. According to Rebecca’s intel, Arias hid a concentrated sample in a safe last time he was here. You will need Ada to crack the safe to retrieve the sample and deliver it to Rebecca. As you traverse the corridors, it twists and turns in different directions—whoever engineered this did not enjoy unexpected guests at all. But under Rebecca’s guidance, she walks you and your team through the labyrinth with ease and precision.

But unfortunately, not ease and precision on your part. You trip over your own leg and almost fall to the floor as you round a harsh turn according to Rebecca’s instructions, and Jill catches you right on the arm before you fall.

“Easy there.” Jill pulls you up the ground, and you regain some balance. “You good? Mind your step.”

“Why did I agree to babysit?” Ada speaks, finally, for the first time in this mission. Despite how quietly she spoke under her breath, her words abruptly cut through the air, and all attention is on her and the red sweater dress that curves into her frame perfectly now.

“Oh, I bet once you get your paycheck it will be worth it. Or will you be betraying us, huh, Ada?”

Leon smirks loudly. Ada’s face goes from tired to exhausted in one second. “You just can’t let bygones be bygones, can you?”

“That’s rich coming from someone who used to work for Wesker.” Ada’s heels come to a stop, and with a slow turn, she stares deeply into Leon’s eyes that speak a million threats without needing to be utter a word. Oh, and believe me, you do not want to be messing with Ada. You learnt that the hard way.

“Woah, guys. Let’s keep this civil. No need to get heated.” Carlos rushes to stand right between them as the duo glares at each other with passionate fury and resentment.

You nod, joining Carlos’ side to stand by him. “Carlos’s right. This is not the time to pick a fight.” But it falls on the deaf ears of Leon and Ada.

“Thousands were killed. I want what’s good for the people, and I’m not sure Ada here is on the same page.” Leon continues, adding fuel to the fire.

Ada lets out a disbelieved gasp in response, before recollecting herself and replying in her usual tone of calmness: “Someone has to pay the price. I’m just the executor.”

“Regardless of our motivations, we all are on the same side here.” Carlos attempts at resolution again, putting his hands up in between them, and fails embarrassingly once more.

The air is heated with hostility; Leon and Ada’s eyes are locked in a trance, a hazy spite that reigns their composure, that looking away from each other means forfeiting. You don’t see either of them walking away first, they are both prideful people after all.

“Uh… Jill? Some help?” Carlos looks around to find Jill, who is leaning against a wall, her arms relaxing by her sides, unphased by the fire stirring right in front of the crowd.

“Not my circus, not my monkeys.” Jill is merely waiting for either one of the parties roll over.

You feel speckles of flame through the two of them, as if steam is retreating over the top of their heads, burning not just them, but also everyone else in the room. Until the boiling point hits, and it erupts all in one second. The duo walks away, off to different directions in bitter adrenaline, until you and Carlos are just looking at each other.

“I guess we’ll take five. There’s a safe room up ahead.” Carlos is speaking, but you’re the one listening.

The five of you enters the safe room in silence. It is a storage room—despite its name, it’s quite large for a normal storage room—with boxes stacked on all ends that made the room seem smaller in comparison. A ceiling light illuminates the room dimly, but it isn’t enough to shade away years of old animosity from their past.

The lively conversations you had mere minutes ago is gone now. Just silence and awkward rustling as each of you sits in your own designated corner. Carlos and Jill find themselves a seat on top of a firm box. Leon and Ada giving each other the silent treatment, standing on farthest end of the room to each other. You are simply minding your own business, gathering materials to craft a flashbang to pass the time. Doesn’t hurt to have more supplies anyway.

There is a notable division on each side, an imaginary alliance that you choose to be on neither side. Until Leon crosses the boundary line, somehow making his way to you. He picks up an empty grenade case next to you, assembling the pieces together for your project.

“Sorry you had to see that.” A little guilt tugs at Leon’s voice.

“Not at all. I get why you felt that way.” Leon nods, a look of gratitude hanging softly through a smile. His other finger seals the flashbang cap and hands it back to you. “But you need to learn to control your temper. Especially when it comes to Ada.”

Speaking of Ada, a shiver runs down your spine suddenly. The feeling of someone sending laser signs and telepathic warnings towards you. You turn around towards the direction of the aura to find Ada, her back leaning against the wall, arms crossed without engaging or acknowledging anyone in the room. She stands by herself alone, and that’s how you had always known Ada—distant and in her own mysterious world. Not really a chatter, despite the number of times she had saved you in the past.

Ada does not look at you, but you can feel her glaring down—either you or Leon—with her entire body.

“Good to see the two of you getting along at least.” Carlos holds out two plastic water bottles to you two from a supply crate he found in the room, which Jill has finished downing two of them already.

You two gesture ‘no thanks.’ Ada does not spare Carlos a glance at his direction when he offers.

“You’re welcome, I guess.” Carlos says sarcastically, before taking in a generous sip from his drink.

There’s a moment of silence. Then, a moment of dry coughs; a squeak of footsteps, a joint click from a stretching neck. Then silence once more.

“I’ve had enough.” Jill slaps her hands on her thigh before pushing herself up from her seat. “You guys gonna keep acting like kids? Grow up, this isn’t high school anymore. Take your drama outside. If we’re gonna take down Arias, we have to get along. And yes, that means moving on from shit that happened… five years ago? Five years ago and you two are still hung up? Unlike you all, I’m actually looking forward to go home and get a decent shower, hopefully soon.”

You nod in approval as Jill speaks her mind, and you are glad at least the few of you have their priorities in order. Ada flicks her head away from Jill, but her silence is telling of how much she is thinking over Jill’s words.

“Leon, can you accept this?” Jill asks.

There’s a bit of reluctance in his voice, but he agrees anyway. “Fine.”

“Ada?”

Before Ada can respond, smoke is creeping into your vision, coming in quick. It merges into your view, obscuring it, and you whiff something artificial, some kind of chemicals that is piercing to your nose and eyes. You can’t help but wince, hands groping the air in attempts to find comfort in the person closest to you—anyone for that matter—to indicate you’re safe and is indeed not under attack. Your fingers find themselves in a fistful of someone’s shirt, muscles tensing tightly underneath the fabric on their shoulder cap.

“Leon. Is that you?” You cry out.

“It’s me. Stay close and don’t let go. It’s an ambush.” Leon pulls your arm towards him, securing your safety with his hand in yours.

There is some coughing through the air, faint panic in voices underneath the hissing of gas that seems to be coming from above. You hold onto Leon a bit tighter.

Carlos calls out desperately “Where are you guys? Is everyone okay?” as he flaps his hand around the smoke to stir it away. He finds you and Leon almost immediately, and looks down to your hands, finding them clasped tight against each other. Your hand lets go of Leon flying behind your back, but Carlos already saw it.

Jill is coughing deep from the smoke. “I-I’m here!”

“It seems like we’re all here.” Ada says, composed as ever despite the circumstances.

The smoke dissipates—until most of the fog fades away, escaping through the cracks underneath the door to the other side. Leaving the five of you standing in the same storage room darting eyes around, seemingly unharmed, and even more confused.

After what feels like a while later, Jill finally breaks the silence: “Huh. What was that?”

“No enemies.” Ada unholsters the pistol from her belt, inspecting the room and the door behind the room. “Clear on this side too.”

It’s strange. If this is an ambush, why isn’t there an attack?

Leon places a finger on his earpiece to activate his microphone. “Rebecca, come in. We’ve just been ambushed by some kind of smoke, but nobody’s hurt. Happen to know what’s going on?”

His earpiece buzzes into life. “Hmm, let’s see. From the architecture plans, I see the vents are connected to a lab below. It seems abandoned, there are no signs of anyone triggering an attack on my end.”

“Whatever it is, we need to investigate.” Leon’s voice is firm and serious. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

You swallow deeply, fear settling back inside you. “You think it’s a trap?”

“I think…” Leon pinches his chin. “…Arias knows that we’re here.”

Your heart drops—Bundle of fear, anxiety and stress springing back into your nerves as you probe at the possibility of Glen Arias knowing where you are. What you’re trying to do. Making sure you will never reach that sample despite your hardest wills.

“He shouldn’t. Rebecca, didn’t Arias get on the jet?” Carlos is also thinking too.

“Affirmative. Security footage showed Arias walking into his private jet, and it took off four hours ago. He should still be in the air. No signal of them making a pitstop anywhere.”

You hear black pumps clacking against the hardwood floor. “I’m getting the sample.” Says Ada, her foot is already halfway out of the door. “Follow me or not, I don’t care. I’m here for the objective, and only that.”

“And what if something happens to you?” Carlos asks, genuinely concerned.

“I’ll deal with it if it happens.” Ada waves dismissively.

“Ada’s right, we could be set on a wild goose chase.” Jill chimes in. “Millions of lives are dying. We don’t have time to waste.”

“I guess it’s just you and me then, pretty boy.” Carlos rounds his arm around Leon’s neck, bringing him closer in an almost choking grip, a little too close and tight to his liking. And with Leon’s history with Carlos, Leon refuses to believe this is just a friendly gesture.

Leon grimaces, removing Carlos’ hand over him. “So that’s it? We’re splitting up?” The answer is unanimous. “Fine. I guess we’ll cover more ground if we split up.”

Rebecca, through the other side of your earpiece, speaks: “Be careful everyone. You don’t know what kind of schemes Glenn Arias had set up. Please stay safe.”

“We’ll be fine, as long as we don't have any traitors in our team.” Leon says the word ‘traitor’ while maintaining eye contact with Ada. She ignores him, simply deadpans.

“Well, what about you?” Leon nudges at your arm.

You are faced with two options. Indulge in your curiosity and find the source of the gas, or stick to mission as planned? Both options will be dangerous. So who will you trust with your life?

[OPTION A] “I’ll follow the girls.”

[OPTION B] “I’ll follow the boys.”

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 thanks for reading! come check out my other works! —yours truly, rose. i love my beta reader @scar-crossedlvrs! series taglist: @j3llyd0nut @ovaryacted @daydreamrot @madcap-riflette @access--granted @obsolescent @briermelli @secretiveauthor @ghosty-frog @navstuffs @slowcryinginthedark @rentaldarling @lesbntired © roseglazedlens — please do not repost, plagiarise, or feed to ai.

[postersofleon]

Virgin Who Can't Drive

Leon is trying to teach you how to drive so you'll visit him in Raccoon City.

content: fluff and smut

- request

notes: afab fem!reader; fluffy couple who love each other; talking about porn; praise kink coming from both leon and reader; it's a short long. I wanted to write a fluffy sex scene because re2 leon is so lovely. um, i don't like the ending. y'know, it's like written perfectly in your mind and the next day it's just an ass writing of it. both reader and leon are virgins. it took forever because i hate myself so here you go

part two (here)

taglist: @argreion

Leon smiled brightly at you as he saw your cheeks puff up. "C'mon, reverse isn't that bad." He hoped his words be enough to make you feel better, but you looked so frustrated. "I, I panic controlling this machine." Once he heard those words come from your mouth, he sighed softly.

A typical nice day with his girlfriend who hated the idea of driving. "Once these cities are walkable, I'm going to finally hate less my life." You reverse the car gently, you focused on the car and on Leon. Leon nodded his head slowly, "Yeah, good, good..." Your cheeks began to burn a bit from his words.

"Sweetie, focus." Leon said kindly.

You wanted to desperately mock him, judge him for his cute words, but what else can you do this exact second.

"Okay." You said almost immediately. You kept your hands on the wheel as you slowly turned the wheel. Once you completely turned the car, you turned to see Leon with a happy smile, "Yeah, see, I told you you can do it." Leon kissed your cheek, and it was so easy to know that he did this to praise your little heart.

"Ready to drive?" Leon asked.

You nodded your head weakly as you began to drive. Your foot on the gas and the other foot just stayed floating above the brake. You weren't a complete idiot at the idea of driving, you knew how to make turns and stuff, but the fear of the other drivers made your stomach turn. If you weren't a reckless driver, another idiot will and, fuck. You glanced at Leon, "Leon, can we just skip the driving and," You leaned a bit close to the wheel, "I hate driving."

You were twenty years old practicing how to drive with your boyfriend. No matter how positive you tried to see the story, you felt like a loser.

Leon placed the car in park, "Honey," He gently cupped your face, "Take a deep breath in." He whispered softly. You looked into his eyes and took a deep breath in. His fingers gently squeezed your cheeks to help your nerves that kept spiking up. He leaned gently and kissed your lips, "I'm here to help." Leon muttered softly. Your teeth chewed on your lower lip, "Okay."

You drove around the streets; it wasn't hard because Leon made sure to keep another extra eye as they went around. "I can't park, Lee." You mumbled softly. Leon rubbed your thigh gently, "Yes, you can, baby." He kept his hand on your thigh as you twirled the wheel into position. "That's it... good." He nodded his head slowly. You blushed at every single word he said, your cheeks burned up.

"Be careful with the other car. Nice and easy." He nodded his head slowly until you finished. You parked the car and looked at Leon, "I hate driving." You mumbled softly. Leon caressed your cheeks, "I know, but when I go to Raccoon City, I need my princess to learn how to drive so she can visit me." You looked away; it felt so unfair that Leon accepted a job so far away. Leon. You looked at the wheel of the car, "So, how many days are you betting on me to get better?"

"A couple of weeks." He promised.

And Leon was leaving in a couple of months. You needed to get rid of your stupid fear.

-

Leon was finishing his small studies of law he took in community college. It wasn't required, and probably it was wasting time and money, but he didn't mind waiting around the campus for you. Leon hated to think about leaving you alone. He wanted to take you to Raccoon City, but you needed to finish your classes. Leon didn't want you to stop everything you are doing for him. However, he feels anxious of leaving you without actually losing his virginity with you.

Both virgins who were too scared to look at real life penis or a vagina.

He had seen those trashy porn movies in his home trying to prepare, but he knew things about you. He knew you wouldn't be super sexual and he was aware that maybe his boner won't appear like he planned.

Planning sex was hard work. Especially when everyone apparently lost it in high school. It was his fault for wanting to watch Plup Fiction and Casablanca with you. He was horny, but never enough to force you to do something he knew you would be uncomfortable with.

The closest thing Leon has done was sit between your thighs as he played video games on his Sega. Your legs on his shoulders, his hands every once in a while rubbing your legs. Okay, maybe he was a moron for not having sex yet. He saw you leave your class and he stood up straight. "Honey, I was planning we can watch The Wedding Singer." He stammered out like a wheezing toy. Your eyes narrowed, "Didn't we see that already?"

"Yes," He agreed, "But, who said we can't enjoy it again."

You exhale through your mouth, "Mm, okay, I guess." Your fingers scratched your cheek, "So, The Wedding Singer and we are done for the day?"

Leon laughed softly, "Not really." He knew his face looked dumb, "I was thinking that maybe we should buy condoms."

"No fucking way." You gasped softly. Leon nodded his head excitedly, "Yup, I, I want to do it with you unt-until I go to leave. I don't want an awkward sex moment with you and fail at it." He laughed softly to himself before looking back at you. "I don't want that to be last memory of me."

You looked away from Leon and let out a laugh, "So," You held gently his arm, "I'll rewatch and see The Wedding Singer and remember that's when we had sex." Leon nodded his head, "Yeah, it'll be fun, I guess."

-

You couldn't watch the movie properly now. You kept looking at Leon as Adam Sandler and Drew Barrymore fell in love. You felt yourself smile with the thought of a romantic moment with Leon. You have known for so long. You knew all his little quirks and... You are learning how to drive thanks to him. You gently pushed his hair back, you saw his moles scattered around his neck and your heart clenched.

Lee. Leon. Your love.

Leon turned to see you.

Your eyes looked down at his lips, "I love you." You whispered softly. Leon smiled weakly, "I love you more."

When the movie ended, he held your hand tightly and pulled you so close that your hips crashed with his. "So, what's the first step of sex?" You teased Leon. You had your ideas of just grinding on him until he popped a boner, but it was just your needy self. You didn't mind how long it lasted to love Leon until he was hard.

Leon laughed softly, he didn't have an exact answer, but he got into his knees and pulled out a dozen roses. You wanted to pretend you weren't digging his romantic gesture. "Lee, stop it." You groaned weakly. "Nope," He has the cutest awkward smile in the world, "I have to express my love over and over."

You accepted the flowers in a shy manner. "I hate you." You mumbled softly.

Leon and you went to car and he drove you back to your rent home you shared with roommates. "A-are we really doing this?" You asked Leon weakly. Leon nodded his head, "I brought my cassettes for the occasion." You were scared for Leon's type of music for the moment. "What's in the cassette?" You grabbed a vase to put the flowers in.

"Honestly," He clenched the cassette, "A bit of everything I thought would be romantic." Meaning, you knew Lovesong by the Cure will be there. You held Leon's hand and led him to your room, Leon felt nervous already and it pained him.

You sat on the corner of the bed. Leon nodded his head, he needed to assure himself as he prepared the cassette. Leon turned to you and smiled, "Forgive me if I fail to satisfy you." He muttered softly. He got into his knees and placed himself the only place he knew where to start. You didn't know what to do and neither did Leon. He rubbed your thigh and his hands landed on your hip.

The music of the cassette began and it was a Queen song. A small piano began and you recognized it without an issue. Leon blushed at his song choices, "I, I know I'm not good with songs." His hand grabbed your hip tightly, "A song named Jealousy shouldn't be a tape where I want to love you, but I... I can't imagine a life without you."

Your eyes looked up at the tape player and back at Leon. "Lee, I don't know how to... start." You mumbled shyly. Leon nodded his head and stood up, "I don't either," He smiled, "They don't teach this in pornos." He leaned close to you, his legs slowly tangling with yours. Neither of you were sexual aroused. But it was nice. Leon's hand caressed your face and his thumb rubbed your lip.

Your hands slowly grabbed his hip. Leon closed his eyes for a second, he leaned back and took off his white shirt off.

You knew he was in good shape. You always saw him train and see how scrawny his body was until now. He had barely formed abs and soft pecs. You usually saw this body when you two went to lake to enjoy the fresh water in a summer day. He was beautiful. More of his mole decorated his skin, he even had one so close by his nipple. His head tilted a little, his cheeks were pink, and they won't seem to fade away.

The music was completely in the background noise now. Leon closed his eyes for a second, "Okay, okay..."He swallowed weakly. Your hands stayed a while on his hip until they slowly slid down into your stomach. "Your turn." He whispered softly. His hands gently traced your stomach; his fingertips were barely even touched you skin and a small whimper escaped from his lips.

You tilted your head away. It was simple touches, yet those small butterflies formed around your stomach and between your thighs. The grip on Leon's hands tightened on your hip, and they slowly went up and up and gently pulled off your shirt. Leon smiled weakly at his new view. Your breasts looked so soft. He leaned close, his breath was against your neck, "I love you."

Your kisses met his neck and shoulders. "I love you too." You mumbled back. Leon smiled, "I like this." His hands rubbed your hips, skin on skin action wasn't as normal for you two. His hands slowly went up and took off your bra. His pecs and your breasts rubbed against each other, your nipples perked up. Leon's hand gently held your breast and placed his mouth on it. He sucked on your nipples, tugged them gently between his teeth.

The music completely disappeared now. A tiny moan escaped your lips when he pulled away from your breast and went to the other nipple.

Leon had always loved your tits. Seeing them covered with a shirt was enough for Leon, but now he was between your tits.

Leon felt how his limp dick was getting swollen up. Tighten around his jeans, aching around and becoming... it was hard to explain. This wasn't like masturbation. He had you. You felt how his bulge pressed against your covered pussy. Leon could already imagine how... fuck... your tight walls clenching around his poor aching cock. Leon's tongue traveled up until it met your neck, licking up all those details of your skin.

His own blue eyes met yours, his hand caressed your face again and pulled you close. "I, I love you." He couldn't help but repeatedly tell you those words. He meant it.

But with his dick tightening his jeans and him loving you. The next step came. You and Leon temporarily separated from each other remove your jeans. Leon was embarrassed of his tighty white underwear. He kicked them off your bed and he looked at your thighs slowly showing. Leon blushed again. You turned around and faced him. "Sorry if my vagina looks ugly." Your hands cupped your already covered pussy, but once you said those words Leon said, "I don't care." He just hoped you won't be scared of his worm.

Leon looked up at the ceiling, "So, I'll whip it out, okay?"

You nodded your head.

Leon swallowed nervously, his hands played with the elastic band and tugged them off. Your eyes couldn't stop looking at Leon's penis, "It's pretty." You whispered. His cock twitched at the compliment, "I trimmed it." Leon muttered softly. His hands played with the pubes he had, "I'm decent size." He was proud of five inches, but you didn't care of his size. You saw how his cock looked thick and heavy, and your eyes widen at how big his balls were.

"Holy shit." You mumbled softly. Your eyes saw his again, "I'm guessing that's you man spread so much."

Leon blushed again, his hand held his cock and you noticed the pre cum sticking around. You liked how Leon's cock looked. Most of the other dicks you have seen with Leon for future practice were kind of ugly looking. "It's okay?" Leon asked you.

You nodded your head.

Now it was your turn. You slowly took them off, Leon groaned weakly when he saw his girlfriend's pussy. His thigh clenched, "Baby..." You looked away for a second until you looked back at him. "Is it...pretty?" Leon nodded his head, but there was no thoughts in his mind. He was so curious of being of you now. Just the tip would be nice...

Learning was taking forever. But nobody mind it. You leaned back and Leon was rubbing his shaft between you pussy lips. His eyes fluttered a bit as how good this felt, your small moans made him want to fuck you so badly. His cock's tip caressed your cunt, his cock then just spilled his cum. It was spilling out and covering your pussy with his seed. He groaned weakly, "S-sorry..." He forced his half hard cock deep in you.

Losing your virginity was so... strange.

His cock made space for himself inside your pussy. You were gasping with every single push. He just kept pushing and pushing your walls open until he was fully in. His cock was still cumming, "Sorry for cumming." Leon muttered softly. He wanted to keep himself nice and hard for you. His hands grabbed your hips and kept himself close. Your wall kept clenching and drying up his cock.

He moaned softly. Leon's head tilted back as he released all his cum deep in you, "S-sorry-" He whispered softly. He looked back down, he smiled weakly at you.

Leon caressed your cheeks gently, rubbing the palm of his hand to your cheeks.

-

"Leon," You felt your heart beat so fast, the phone was pressed against your cheek, "Leon, you have been in Raccoon City for three days, and, fuck, baby, you haven't answered yet." You drove around the empty streets. Leon never just decides not to call you or ignore your calls. He isn't that type of guy. You threw your phone on the passenger's seat and kept both hands on the wheel.

But the world stopped when you mountains of military men and women boarding up the street. You stopped the car and placed it in parking. "Um, e-excuse me?" You cleared your throat, "W-What happened?" A man looked at you for a second, "You lived in Raccoon City?"

You shook your head, "No?"

Your mouth felt dried. "W-what happened?" The military man didn't answer you. "My boyfriend is a cop. He was..." Your voice stammered, "He was suppose to be here."

The military man sighed softly, "Sorry, ma'am, I can't say anything."

"His name is Leon Scott Kennedy," You said fast, "Is he okay?"

[astarionposting]

Leon and Ada ♡ 

[merriepy]

EMPTY HEART

•. Leon S. Kennedy x gn!reader

tags: angst, hurt/comfort

cw: /

summary: After not seeing Leon - your boyfriend - in over a month, you start to re-evaluate your relationship with him

a/n: I took so long to finish that one, I'm so sorry; no third person pronouns used for the reader; no specific Leon mentioned but written with his re4r-version in mind + reader is < 30

words: 2,7k

The apartment always seemed so very empty when he wasn't around. So very quiet. So very lifeless.

Him potentially dying was the only thing in your mind when he wasn't by your side. Maybe the uncertainty made these thoughts so unbearable. You knew nothing about him, and he was your partner. The word fiancé had only crossed your mind ever so slightly whenever he laid next to you in bed, which wasn't very often since he was out most of the time.

He worked for the government. That's the only concrete thing you knew. The rest was what you had pieced together via reading classified information he left laying around in the apartment (he wasn't the most organized kind of guy) and through the very limited amount of things he told you. In moments of weakness.

Leon hadn't been home in over a month. Fighting bioweapons. Or something. You didn't know what it specifically meant but it definitely sounded dangerous. And it was. While he wouldn't return visibly wounded, you would always new soft scars on his already wounded skin, telling the story of who he was and what his life had turned him into. He would leave on short notice and just return one day without ever contacting you during his leave. You've gotten used to waking up alone, well aware that we might not ever return from his mission. But orders were orders and you knew that even if he wanted to, he couldn't stay with you for his job had to be his top priority.

You had placed down the controller on the coffee table in front of your sofa. Playing videogames did not turn out to be enough of a distraction from the matter at hand, and both everything related to your own job and household chores had already been done. The pressure had made the air unbreathable so you had tried to pull your body over to the balcony to get some fresh oxygen, yet your limbs didn't move. Saying that your relationship with Leon had some negative side effects as well would be an understatement. It was terrible whenever he was gone, knowing that you, his partner, future fiancé even, knew so little about him and had no control over all the dangerous things he was put through was more than awful.

But you appreciate whenever he was with you, laying next to you in bed and his random little signs of affection that had made you fall in love with him. The sacrifices would be worth in the end if he was able to survive all of his jobs, if the two of you would be able to hold hands and finally seal your bond in marriage.

Though his dangerous job wasn't the only thing bothering you. To be fair, this particular point was a you-problem so you would never bring it up anywhere but your so tightly sealed own realm. But you were jealous. Of his co-workers. The fact they're able to seem him so much more often than you, that they knew so much more about him;

though worst was the thought that he could be honest with them. He didn't have to hide anything from them and it ate away at your heart like a wolf feasting on its prey.

Doubts would cross your mind, whether you truly knew Leon. Why would he prefer to spend time with you if he could have someone who he could be true to, someone who was able to understand his struggles on a level you yet could only hope to reach one day.

These thoughts circled through your head on a daily, and they didn't seem to stop; even when he was with you, hugging you in his sleep.

You weren't a noble person, if he was ready to commit to you despite having better alternatives you would take him any day, just because you couldn't remotely stand the thought of him being with another person. Perhaps it was selfish, but you preferred that way more than seeing him leave because you told him to.

The clock strikes 11.

You finally moved up from the couch and gazed through the endless night sky. You read a quote once. 'As long as we live under the same night sky and see the same stars, we will always be united.' It made you wonder if you were truly living under the same sky as Leon because it surely didn't feel like it. He was somewhere, but you weren't. You were here, without him. And he was out on a mission with someone, and that someone wasn't you.

As you finished giving into the thoughts in your head, you went ahead on your normal evening routine including closing all the windows, turning off all the lights and preparing your outfit for the next day. With each passing day you tried harder and harder to avoid looking up at the very few pictures of you and him hung up on the walls for it brought to much pain. You've gotten good at it, rushing by as the dead eyes of the picture stared at you relentlessly.

The last light had been turned off and you were just about to go to sleep as you felt way too exhausted to actually take care of tomorrow's choice of clothing when you suddenly heard the door open up. You knew that realistically it would be Leon but the small thought that it could be a robber who conveniently had the key to your front door and just walked in like nothing did linger in your mind, so you quickly entered the closest room and waited for sounds. Fear traveled through your body as you couldn't hear anything anymore. No steps, no doors opening, no nothing. As you instinctively hid behind the door so you wouldn't immediately be seen when being opened, you heard the doorknob being twisted.

A hard, bright light entered through the soft crack in the door though you knew that you had turned every last light off. You paid attention to the shadow forming on the floor as the person stepped through the door. "(Y/N)? Is everything.. alright?" you heard your partner's voice as he walked into the room. You moved away from the behind the door, slightly upset. "Oh my god Leon, you could've just immediately said something when you entered! I was so scared that you were some criminal breaking in!" You stared into his beautiful, blue eyes and despite the anger towards him and the entire situation surrounding him and his work, you could help but be glad that he was finally with you again.

He took a few steps back to turn the light switch on and the flashlight of his phone off. His silhouette was now a lot clearer and you couldn't see any visible wounds on his face and arms which was a big relief. Though he seemed tired and definitely mentally exhausted. "I just thought something might be wrong," he replied before pulling you into a deep hug. "I'm sorry, darling." You felt his chin resting on your head as he carefully moved his hands over your back. "I've missed you so fucking much, you know that?"

You bit your tongue, quite literally, as you remembered the jealousy that had eaten you up during this time of separation and desperation. But you would never tell him, it was a you problem after all, and he seemed to care so deeply since he didn't let you go and only tightened his hug the longer it continued. It seemed so genuine and real, and it almost convinced your irrational head that he was the one though you knew deep down that it couldn't be swayed. Irrationality, after all.

He had only reluctantly pulled away from you and made sure to place a soft kiss on your cheek before giving you a little room to breathe. "We should go the bedroom. It's late after all, and I have to go to work tomorrow," you suggested as you tried to examine the parts of his body that were revealed to you, making sure he really wasn't injured and you didn't miss anything; and maybe, just maybe, that irrational part of yours was looking for something else as well. "Do you need to eat or something? I maybe have some leftovers in the fridge." He shook his head. "Don't worry, I'm not hungry." "What about your stuff?" "In my trunk. I'll get it out tomorrow." You nodded. "I'll just quickly go to the bathroom and change my clothes. I'll be right with you, darling."

You had made your way from your hiding spot, which you had now identified to be the kitchen, over to the bedroom the two of you shared. It was mostly decorated by you, since you arguably spent a lot more time there than Leon. It filled you with sadness, remembering all the negative things you felt during his absence, and anger, since you now couldn't enjoy his return because of it. You didn't want to experience all of this negativity but it was so much and it didn't seem to stop. The bedsheets felt weirdly cold tonight so you had no desire to burry yourself into them. You were just laying on top of it in starfish position, waiting for the door to open once more. You heard the sound of the city's night life unfolding below your apartment which during this particular time felt somewhat comfortable.

Leon had entered the room not shortly after. He was shirtless and just wore boxer shorts, like he always did for sleeping. He smiled as he saw how you were stretched out on the bed. Before you could move away on your own, he had already picked you up and moved you again so carefully to the side. He was being so extra soft today. Once he had stopped adjusting his position next to you, you took the chance to reach out your hand to caress his cheek, something you had longed to do for so long. As your fingers touched his skin your partner closed his eyes, breathing calmly. "Your hair grew a little bit?" "Don't be silly, it hasn't been long enough for it to grow." "It's been over a month." Saying it out loud. 'It's been over a month.' You couldn't really hide the pain that tagged along in your voice, showing him the surface of your current state of mind.

You wanted to pull your hand away from his cheek, but Leon had stopped you. He had placed his own on yours before placing kisses on your fingers. "I didn't know it had been that long. All I know was that I missed you." His voice sounded so weak and now you felt bad that you were ever doubting him. He seemed so genuinely sad about not being able to be by your side. "It's okay," you comforted him before moving a little closer. You softly placed your lips on his, pulling him to a quick kiss. "I need to wake up in a few hours though," you stated as you turned around to set your alarm for the morning. "So let's talk in the morning. Surely you're not gonna immediately leave again the next day," you joked and even though it was meant to come off as one your tone was awfully serious. And in your mind it was, since you were on the edge whenever he was around due to the uncertainty whether or not we would still be there during the next morning. He knew your stance on this matter but just chuckled along. "Yeah, let's hope."

Leon had reached his arms out with an apologetic look on his face. He had these puppy eyes, always looking so genuinely sad and hurt. You couldn't help yourself and snuggled into his arms, burying your face in his chest in the process. This feeling was something you wished to experience on the daily but it simply wasn't possible, so you tried to be satisfied with what you had. His hand trailed over your head ever so slightly and the kisses he had placed on your arm that was wrapped around his neck shortly after were warm and full love. You knew that he wanted to make it up to you and it made you happy, seeing how he cared despite the questionable circumstances.

Feeling his arms around you gave you the comfort you needed to finally get some proper rest, a proper rest away from all the negative thoughts that had haunted you before. Now that he was with you, everything else felt obsolete.

It was the same, every single time.

He would leave, you would be mad. You would have negative thoughts regarding him and you relationship, he would return before things would get out of hand. You would be content when he was around, he would leave again.

You knew it wasn't his fault. Leon had lost everything and forced into positions he didn't want to be in with no choice of his own. His fingers moving down your curves pushed all the negativity away. "(Y/N).." he mumbled sleepily as he pressed his body as close as physically possible against yours. "I love you. Please, never leave me." Something kept you from responding, maybe it were all these weird fears somewhere in your mind, or maybe because you knew he wasn't yet done talking. "I wish I could be with you every day and leave all of this behind. But I promise I'll make it up to you eventually." His head was deeply buried in-between your neck and shoulder, seeking in this familiar feeling of your skin. "Once this is all over we'll get married, and I'll be the best husband you could ever imagine."

You had to stay strong and keep the tears in for now. Thoughts circled through your mind like crazy. He must be apologising because he cheated, because he had to convince himself not to leave you, because he just wanted to keep you by his side for fun. You didn't want to think any of this, you wanted to believe that he loved you as deeply as he made it seem. A weak kiss followed his words before he closed his eyes. You only now noticed that he thought you were asleep this whole time. And you liked to keep it that way.

Leon only had you on his mind during his absence. A picture of you was in his pocket 24/7 and he always liked to look at it during moments of extreme despair. No other person could cheer him up as much as you did. That's why he knew he wanted to marry you one day. It was the only right thing to do.

You knew so too.

Though acceptance was hard those days. You didn't want to end up with a dead husband in the next few years, that prospect frightened you, yet you knew that if the day would come where you would stand before his casket, you'd regret not making him yours.

"You want me to be your wife?" you asked, hoping that he hadn't yet fallen asleep. His grip tightened ever so slightly around your waist. "I wanted to wait," he admitted quietly. His broken, soft voice reminded you of the Leon you had met those years ago, the aspiring policeman, "until this is all over but... this will be the rest of my life. I want to give you the chance to drop out if you don't want to commit to a life like this." He kissed your neck weakly. "I want you so much. It's so selfish but I can't imagine my future without you."

In the darkness of your bedroom, you searched for his lips. Your fingers softly trailed over them, sealing them shut before you replaced your fingers with your own lips. The kiss was loving, not passionate or anything but it meant so much more to you than pure lust. A single tear left your eye, which was quickly wiped away by Leon's hand.

"Never leave me darling," he mumbled into the kiss before quickly grasping for air. "I would never," you replied as you kissed him on his forehead. "You're my fiance after all."

[jks1uv]

𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑁𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑊𝑒 𝑀𝑒𝑡 (𝑎𝑓𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑎 𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑔, 𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒) ; leon kennedy | one-shot |

summary: you meet leon again on quite the interesting night, after many years of his abrupt disappearance.

pairing: fem!reader x re4remake!leon + bartender!reader x richman!leon.

trope: estranged friends since childhood to potential lovers.

genre: the great gatsby au + fluff + slow-burn romance.

warnings‼️: leon's taller than reader + mention(s) of alcohol consumption + a few minor details alluding to fights + a brief misogynistic encounter w/ a sleazebag but it’s the 20’s so.

word count: 2,137.

random disclaimerrr!: i saw an edit of re4remake!leon on tiktok for the first time & i was like “who is this fine, handsome, young man⁉️” & it was love at first sight. happy reading! ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ ♡ © 2024 @jks1uv

────♡♡♡────

Crystal chandeliers that cost much more than your life hang gracefully from the ceilings. The Mahogany floors are polished and filled with servers and performers taking their places and preparing for yet another grandiose night.

Of course it was only a matter of time before the guests came into the mansion, but you liked to enjoy the moments of calm before the inevitable storm. It was kind of like rehearsing before a big play.

Albeit you played an insignificant part, everything had to be perfect for the night to still be the talk of the week.

Perhaps you thought too soon as a rush of water had flooded into the gates of the mansion and through the doors, evidently starting up the long-awaited party.

Music and laughter filled the obnoxiously large space of white and mahogany.

Servers were offering all kinds of delicacies and drinks to the guests, and they were living for it.

The dancers were wearing flashy colors like a blazing orange and a fiery red with a tint of navy blue. Large feathers drape their necks as they sit on the circular cages hanging from the ceilings.

How did they even get up there?

It reeked of alcohol and inferiority.

The women are wearing scandalously short skirts and revealing clothing. They have a drink in one hand and a man in another.

But you admire them. You admire their courage and carefreeness to be with whomever they like and do whatever they like. You admire their confidence as you don’t know if you’d be able to wear what they wear and speak how they spoke.

Everyone seemed to be having so much fun, you admit you are a little jealous.

You wonder what it’s like to be so rich, you’d never have to worry about making ends meet or how you’re going to afford to pay for luxuries like a great school or bills for the house. Maybe even go out to dine with some friends and sport a good fashion of coats and scarves and hats and heels.

You can only imagine.

────♡♡♡────

It was ten past two, and yet the liveliness of the party never faltered. Instead, it grew exponentially!

There’s a redheaded lady in an olive-green dress who is the singer for tonight. She’s accompanied by a male piano player in a classic black and white tuxedo.

“Well, hello there.”

The sound of a man snaps you out of your thoughts.

He was staring at you with his beady green eyes. You had to stop yourself from chortling in his face as the shininess of his head distracted you momentarily.

“What... can I get you?”

You finish your statement with the fakest smile you could offer. Your lips pursing upwards in disgust at the foul stench coming from his body. (Or was it his mouth? Definitely an unappetizing cocktail of both.)

He bares you his seemingly unbrushed teeth; his eyes look you up and down and a trail of uncomfortableness rises on your arms.

“I want you to come with me, doll.”

Uncharacteristically, you roll your eyes at his cheap take and your jaw clenches.

“Sir, I asked what I could get you. Not who.”

You knew rich people were snobby but this? This was new and it is ticking you off. His cocksure attitude made you want to smash the bastard’s face in.

He scoffs and has the audacity to look at you in annoyance.

“You’re a woman; you don’t get to deny me.”

The prick then raises an arm in an attempt at grabbing your wrist when someone intervenes. The stranger grabs his arm, pining it behind his back and locks him in place.

“To think what you lack in manners would be made up by your wealth.”

Sarcasm is your native tongue so you couldn't help but look to see who your knight in shining armor is.

This is this sound of another man and he sounds much younger. His voice is a bit deep and grave. It sounds kind of (very) attractive if you’re being completely honest.

He decides to step out from behind the plump-fitted imbecile and my God you think. The shock that fills your being from head to toe would be enough to bring Frankenstein to life.

His name departs from your lips before you could even register it in your brain. As if he’s a language you’ve now learned to master.

“Leon?!”

You couldn’t believe it.

The boy who left the West Egg in the midst of seventh grade for the East Egg was back?

And he was a man now… an insanely attractive man.

His hair is a dirty blonde; swept up and back with some gel. Two strands of hair are peeking out on the right end of his forehead. His eyes are sharp and a cool shade of blue. Leon’s skin still has that beautiful milky tan, his all-black tuxedo frames his bulky figure well.

He towers over the older man, your guess of his height being just about six feet. He wears a smell, an alluring one at that; a well-worn leather mixed with honeyed whiskey.

God damn you might as well turn into a bulldog with how much you’re drooling.

You hope nobody (Leon) caught your shameless ogling (he didn't, thank fucking god).

Leon looks to be just as agitated as you were with the older and much shorter man. He throws a temper tantrum over the taller (younger, handsomer, better-) man getting in his way.

“You outta stay out of grown folks’ business, kid. And let go of that arm while you’re at it.”

Leon raises an eyebrow in a way that was challenging the man. In a way that was mocking him; take her if you can.

But before things got even uglier, an outrage of women began to circulate the room. Some are screaming at their men for blatantly flirting with other women, others give in to their jealousy and scorn the other woman. Some of the men look like they’re going about to brawl with their so-called “best friend”.

It appears as though liquor really does the bring out the best and worse in people.

Chaos ensues like a zoo of wild animals. Food, drinks, and punches are being thrown from left to right.

Cleaning this up is going to be a nightmare but at least this wasn’t Mr. Gatsby’s place. He’d have you and the rest of the cleaners here up all night until the next afternoon.

Leon lets go of the jabbering baboon and grabs your hand from over the counter to help usher you out.

The older man moves forward, mouth open to protest but Leon throws a swift jab under his jaw and knocks him out cold. Your neck snaps up at him in shock and you see a mischievous glint in his eyes. A playful smirk creeps up his pink lips, and he winks at you.

This is going to be an interesting night.

────♡♡♡────

Leon takes you out to the front yard where the fountain is still spewing water. A blanket of dark velvet overtakes the sky and you’re serene.

There's a quiet chattering of crickets, a calm, cool breeze brushes by here and there.

He’s still holding your hand and when you look down at the action, he lets go and shoves both of his hands into his pockets while clearing his throat out of embarrassment.

A cloud of light pink dusts his cheeks.

Cute.

You make your way to the sidewalk of a once busy road, the dim moonlight serving as your source of sight as those damned streetlights are out.

You’re itching to talk to him, say anything. You look at him and ask.

“When did you get back?”

He eyes the night sky and says, “About a few days ago. I was just in town to catch up with my folks.”.

He looks at you during that last part. You look back down and nod.

It was (SO. FUCKING.) awkward: the silence.

You didn't know what to say.

Well, that’s swell Leon! It’s been a while and you’re still as good looking as I remember. Would you like to catch up some time?

Ridiculous.

So, you prompted for small-talk by asking what the time was. He replied with, “A quarter past two.”.

You exclaim at your loss of time perception. “Wow, it’s been that late already?”

He just nods as if it were obvious. “That’s why I’m walking you home.”

Your heart swelled at his gesture. It was comforting to know that even after all these years, he was still that sweet-natured boy you used to play with. He was still your Leon.

“You a gentleman to all the ladies?” You half-heartedly tease.

He chuckles at this and shakes his head. “Only my favorite ones.”

He meets your eyes and grins, and what a gorgeous sight it is. It's enough to make a girl's heart throb.

“I never forgot about you, Y/n.”

You look up at this and his eyes make you feel nervous instantly. You feel bare underneath his gaze, the intensity making your heart pound. You can’t bear it anymore; you look away.

Your face feels hot, and your stomach feels funny. You deeply inhale and exhale to calm your racing heart.

He's still staring.

To mask your (poorly hidden) flustered state, you attempt to make light of your condition.

“You might as well take a picture of my face, it'll last longer.” You look straight ahead and say (barely) coolly.

He stops walking, making you stop. He reacts like he did something so offensive and rude, he didn’t even notice it.

You fiddle with the pendant of your necklace, still refusing to look at him.

“I’m sorry- I didn’t even realize…” He trails off, awkward.

Staring is rude but because of how much of a gentleman Leon is, you’re far from offended.

“You- you were staring at me like-”

You cut yourself off. You didn’t want to get your hopes up and make a fool out of yourself if he wasn’t even doing what you assume he was.

“Like… what?”

He takes a step forward carefully, gauging for your reaction. His action causes you to instinctually look up at him.

Leon dips down to meet your height and a lopsided grin takes over his features.

Oh, he’s a smug son of a bitch now. His eyes gleam with an undying sense of amusement and there’s a ghost of a smirk on his lips. He tilts his head to the side, nonverbally teasing you at your loss of words.

He's looking at you in a way your pasts did; curiously.

There’s something he put in the atmosphere that feels like he’s trying to make up for all that time he spent away and the only way he sees you is through the lens of his pre-teen self.

You haven’t seen his face in years so how did you recognize him at first glance, just like that?

Maybe I’ve always missed you.

His eyes soften a bit, that ghost of a smirk vanishes away as the corners of his lips lift only in the slightest.

“I missed you, too.”

You blink a few times; your lips are slightly apart as his confession grounds you to Earth.

Did he just…? He heard that?! YOU JUST SAID THAT??!! OUT LOUD??!! Wow! How embarrassing!

You groan softly and close your eyes, rubbing your forehead but he just smiles largely and chuckles at your discomfort. Not in a way to shame you, never that. In a way that says, you never have to hide your affection from me.

You just couldn’t help it. The corners of your lips turn upwards as there’s just something about this boy, his aura, that just leaves you helpless.

His laughter dies down and he look to his right. His shoulders droop a bit and he looks down, his shoe digging into the dirt under his feet.

“I’ll, uh... I’ll see you tomorrow.” He says, a twinge of disappointment in his tone.

You turn around and don’t even realize you’ve made it to the front of your house.

“Oh.” You say lamely.

You walk up the stairs with Leon following closely behind you and you unlock your door. You pause before turning the knob, something makes you stop.

He bites his lip in anticipation, waiting for you to say something and you do.

You turn around and say, “I’m glad you’re back home, Leon.”

His face lights up, like this is all he’s been waiting to hear. Like he’s been waiting to hear how you feel.

He nods and tries to hide the giddiness in his bones (he fails miserably).

“Goodnight, Y/n.”

Before you slept; you prayed to see him more often. There was a lot of catching up to do.

[ajaxntg]

𓈒 ۫ ᧔ ᧓ ָ֢ ☕ ۫ 𖹭 ︵

[sweeterthanficstion]

— between here and there || l.s.k

pairing: ghost!leon kennedy x ghosthunter!fem!reader

tags: set in 2001, graphic depictions of dead animals one is right under the cut, mentions of death, mentions of grief, mentions of violence, themes of obsession and love, implied/referenced childhood abuse inflicted by a parent, typical horror topics. (if i missed anything pls dm me and let me know!!)

summary: Even if it is full of love, all a ghost can do is haunt. Or: The year is 2001, and you've just found out about a haunted homestead on a prairie, sure to hold a million mysteries within its rotting walls. You've chased rumors of the supernatural before, but this place feels... different. Maybe this time, you'll find the evidence you need to prove the existence of the other side—and finally go viral. But quickly you come to learn that some doors, once opened, can't be shut.

word count: 6.6k

a/n: i wrote 80% of this fic on my phone, so i'm sorry if it reads badly 😔, i hope you enjoy regardless though! and things will make more sense in the coming parts, i promise <3 also; thank you claudia for beta-reading for me!! n also thank you @/uhlunaro for bone-chill, go read their work!! it's so good n inspired this fic.

playlist ⭑ AO3 || back to the party ⭑ next (coming soon) »

You were eight when you saw your first ghost. Your mother had found you with your face pressed up against the living room window, eyes wide as you stared out into your backyard, convinced there was a dog by the fence that was staring right back.

Your mother had ushered you back to bed, murmuring about how there was no dog out there, and you needed to sleep. But you saw him! You swear it! Floppy ears and a bone between his teeth.

You couldn’t sleep that night, tossing and turning and anxiously waiting for morning to come. By the time the sunlight had crept through your window, you scampered outside to prove it. You’d spent nearly an hour out in the early morning cold, digging, digging, digging with your bare hands, until eventually, you found it, something that wasn’t a dog—not anymore, anyway.

Wrapped in a plastic bag you found it, decayed skin clinging stubbornly to yellowed ribs poking through like splintered wood. Its jaw hung open, snapped and crooked, patches of fur still clinging to the skull, matted until it resembled something more like melted plastic. There was a sense of grief that came with finding its body, a suffocating presence that weighed down over your little lungs, tightened your oesophagus, made your stomach clench.

You gave the rotting dog carcass a proper burial. 

A grave by the oak tree, dirt pressed down gently over its brittle body as if the dog might still feel it, a ring of daisies set atop in remembrance. When you finally stood, wiping mud-stained hands on your pants, you could feel your mother’s eyes on you, her silence heavier than her words ever were.

After that, her patience thinned. She’d catch you whispering to empty rooms, her voice sharper each time, the snap of her voice was soon paired with the snap of a belt. The corners of your room were just corners, she’d say. The shadows were just that; shadows. 

You stopped talking about it, but the flashes of something stayed—the fleeting movements, the whispers, the shadows that lingered in the corners of your vision. The haunting weight of it all clung to you like a thick blanket, creeping in with every bump in the night, until curiosity bled into something deeper. 

Eventually, you gave up waiting and started searching, looking for answers between ghost-hunting forums and haunted houses. 

And now, years later, you’re chasing a truth you’re still yet to prove. 

You jolt from your thoughts the same time the van does over a potholed, eyes snapping to the stretch of dirt road before you. The homestead comes into view, your breath catches in your throat at the sight of it—looking every bit more eerie when bathed in hues of twilight than it did in the grainy two-bit photos on your laptop screen. 

Luis lets out a low whistle from the driver’s seat, before he clicks his tongue and puts the car into park. “Well, we’ve seen worse.”

Luis says it with an air of carelessness you struggle to stomach under the looming shadow of the homestead. He’s never believed in the paranormal the same way you do, always the wind, always a shadow to him, everything has an explanation. Never a ghost, never a spirit.

Yet, he sticks with you, out of what sense of loyalty you’re not entirely sure, but you’re grateful all the same. Maybe it’s the remnants of a childhood bond that keeps him tethered to your side, echoes of sleepovers and whispered secrets, of nights spent laughing over nothing, long before you were chasing shadows and seeking the dead.

It’s not that Luis doesn’t care—he does, more than he’ll ever admit. He just doesn’t see the world the way you do. And that’s okay. He doesn’t have to believe. You do.

He slides out of the car easily, no doubt eager to unpack the camera gear. You hear the back of the van slide open, before you finally make the decision to move, feeling as if your bones have stuck themselves together—rigor mortis.

The homestead looks like it’s rotting from the inside out. Once-grand pillars holding up the front porch that have long since bowed, wood that rots and splinters from years of neglect. The windows, fogged over with dust, are cracked and warped as if the house itself has been trying to keep the world out for far too long.

“What even happened here?” Luis asks, eyeing the decayed structure with a grimace as the both of you step onto the creaking front porch.

In truth, the research had been thin. The house didn’t show up on any official ghost-hunting registry, and there wasn’t much mention of it in local history. But there were enough stories, enough pieces of something to make you believe it was worth the three hour plane trip.

If no one else could get proof, then maybe you could. This could be your big break, could be your skyrocket to supernatural stardom—If that was even really a thing.

“A lot. Murders, disappearances, all the fun stuff.” You joke, flashing a wide grin over your shoulder, trying to ease the pit in your chest, and find amusement at the way Luis shivers at the mention of murders. His shoulders stiffen enough to make you bite back a laugh.

Luis fixes you with a hard stare. “You’re not right, anyone ever tell you that?”

“Plenty of times,” you reply, grin only widening. You reach up and give his cheek a playful pat, “You’re not special.”

He rolls his eyes and you’re well aware he doesn’t buy your teasing, but that’s half the fun. You slip past him to check out the entryway, Luis trailing behind with his camera over his shoulder.

Luis keeps his distance as you wedge the door open. A thick layer of dust comes loose with the movement, swirling with the fading light and wafting straight into your face. You cough violently, waving it away with a grimace.

“This place gives me the creeps,” Luis mutters, adjusting the lens of his camera.

“Nothing’s going to happen—” And as if infuriatingly on cue, the door slips from your gasp and slams shut with a bone-rattling thud.

The both of you jump despite yourselves—Luis lets out a yelp that he stifles with a cough, while you freeze, hand still hanging in the air where the door had once been.

The silence that follows is deafening. You stare at the door for a beat, pulse-quickening as if it might just spring open again on its own, while you feel the burn of Luis’ gaze in the back of your neck, waiting for you to explain it away with your usual bravado.

You lower your hand slowly, give him a sidelong glance. You take a step back from the door as if daring it to open or slam shut again. “Well. That’s one way to make an entrance.”

Luis glares at you. “Yeah, real funny. Can we leave now?”

Rolling your eyes, you reach for the handle and tug the front door open again, choosing to ignore Luis’ insistence. The homestead is as quiet as you imagined it’d be, even so you can’t shake the eeriness of the silence. You swear you can hear static in your head.

Luis hands you a flashlight, which you flick on before toeing the warped floorboards. The wood groans beneath you, but it holds, so you plant your foot fully inside, waiting for the house to react. One second. Two.

Nothing.

With a relieved sigh you step deeper into the homestead. The pale remains of sunlight filter through grimy windows, while dust swirls lazily in the beam of your flashlight as you sweep it across the room.

“Are you recording?” You whisper over your shoulder to Luis, who gives a quick nod, a thumbs-up flashing in your periphery.

The homestead opens up around you—parlour to the left, kitchen and dining room through the door on the right, and a staircase, old and worn, curling up toward the shadows in the back.

“We’ll set up in the parlour,” you murmur, moving toward it. Your hand brushes against the wall as you reach for the light switch, fingers hesitant. You flick it, expecting nothing. But then the chain bulb overhead sputters to life, casting a weak, flickering glow across the room.

“Huh,” you breathe. “Not bad.”

Nightfall comes sooner than you would’ve hoped, and you’re starting to understand why there’s so little about this homestead online. In the two long hours you and Lewis have been here, the silence has remained unbroken. The EMF reader has not spiked once and the camera has picked up nothing. No doors have slammed, nothing has creaked strangely, not even an unsettlingly cold gust of wind. 

Maybe this place is a waste of time, another dead end to add to your already growing list. You contemplate if packing the van up now is a good option. But yet, yet—you can’t shake the feeling that there is something waiting for you here, just beyond reach. A presence. A secret.

There’s still upstairs, a voice nags at the back of your head. Rooms yet to explore, yet to be turned inside out so you can find what’s hidden in the confines of this home’s brittle bones.

Luis follows behind as you carve a path up the stairs, flicking the stairwell light on and waiting for the flicker of the bulb to cease into a steady hum. It takes a moment too long, and your fingers twitch at the edge of your flashlight.

You never did shake your fear of the dark.

Upstairs, the floor is dappled in the pale glow of the moon. You sweep your flashlight through the shadows, the light catching on each warped surface, every peeling edge of wallpaper, casting lonesome shadows across the splintering floors. You watch the EMF reader calibrate and tick in your hand as you tread further down the hallway. The air up here feels heavier, like it’s holding its breath, waiting for you.

That’s when you see it.

Or him, rather. 

At first, you make out nothing but a vague shape standing at the end of the hallway, a shadow where there shouldn’t be one.

But as your eyes adjust, you make out the figure’s skin; a sickly pale, marred with crawling veins like rivers of ink. He has hair like dull flaxen straw, eyes that are such a piercing blue you make them out even in the dark. You freeze, your breath catching in your throat as a chill crawls down your spine. You take a step back, stumbling into Luis, who nearly drops the camera.

The light overhead flickers dramatically before the bulb bursts with a sharp pop, plunging the hall into sudden darkness. Your EMF reader spikes violently in time with your heart slamming against your ribs, and in the panic, you scramble to bring up your flashlight—but as the beam sweeps over him, he vanishes, parts of his body disintegrating into the light, like bend the rules of physics themselves, like something wrong.

“Is that—?” it hits Luis the same time it hits you. Not a person. A ghost.

But there’s no haunting glow, no cloud of smoke. He doesn't float; in fact he doesn’t move at all. Instead, the air grows thick, an oppressive weight that threatens to shatter your ribs inwards and pierce into your lungs.

You hear him. The sickly sound of breathing, a rasping inhale followed by an exhale, like a death rattle. The noise crawls under your skin, itches against your bones.

Your own breath catches in your throat in favour of hearing his. The sound swells, crescendos, then tithers to nothing. Silence, like buzzing in your ears, is all that’s left behind. Slowly, you peel your  eyes open, the ghost is nowhere to be seen.

You come back to reality like ungluing yourself from a fly trap—slowly, sticky, the numbness in your body ceases.

“Did you.. Did you get that on tape?” You ask Luis between bated breath, eyes still glued to the wall where he had been.

Luis swallows hard, his breathing ragged. He fumbles with the camera, fingers trembling, flipping through settings with a frantic sort of urgency. His face drains of colour as he checks the screen. The camera blinks, sputters.

Panic surges as you rush downstairs, tripping over your feet. Luis yanks the camera from his shoulder, flipping it open to review the footage. His hands move fast, flipping through buttons…

Then, the camera shuts off with a mechanical click, the small screen fading to black.

"No, no, no," Luis mutters, voice tight with frustration. He pulls out the tape reel, and the acrid smell hits you first. He stares at it, brow furrowing. You step closer, peering over his shoulder. The reel is ruined—burnt and blackened beyond recognition, as if scorched by something unseen.

Neither of you says a word.

“Sorry, we’re full.”

The words feel like a death sentence this late at night. Luis sighs sharply, his breath fogging up the plexiglass screen between him and the motel keeper. “There’s got to be something, no? Just one room,” he mutters, pushing the crumpled fifty across the counter one more time, almost pleading.

The motel keeper eyes the money, before shaking her head. “I’m serious, hon,” she says, her voice flat, tired. “We’re booked solid. You can try the highway if you’re desperate.”

You’re really only half-listening to the exchange, shivering from the cold as you lean by the side of the van parked under the carport. 

The motel sign above flickers weakly, casting uneven shadows across the parking lot, the words The Black Dog barely legible in the failing neon glow. Cerberus snarls from the sign like a bad omen, one head flickering on and off as if it’s ready to give up entirely.

After the encounter at the homestead, neither Luis nor yourself could shake the feeling of dread that had settled like a thick fog, a weighted blanket that provided more unease than comfort. The decision to leave for the night had been easy, but now, standing outside in the frigid air, you’re starting to feel the sting of bad luck. There are only two motels in this entire town—one’s closed for maintenance, and this one, The Black Dog, is fully booked.

Luis pulls back from the counter with a groan, stuffing the money into his pocket as he joins you outside. “No luck,” he mutters, breath curling in the chilled air.

But you're distracted, focused on the yellowing photographs lining the walls behind the motel keeper’s desk, town history captured in fleeting moments behind dusty glass. Your eyes widen in realisation when you note the homestead is in one of them. A farmer’s family stands at the front of it; a husband, a wife, his daughter and two sons.

You quickly rush up to the window, leaning down closer to the little cutout in the plexiglass as you rest your elbows on the counter. “That photo,” You start, finger pressed to the plastic surface, “do you know who the people in it are?”

The motel keeper swivels in her squeaky office chair, her eyes widening with a sort of realisation. “Them? Well they’re the original settlers of this land,” She hums, turning back. “Their family were the first to come this far east, their father built that homestead with his bare hands.”

“What happened to them?” You ask, your curiosity piqued. Desperate for more, desperate for answers. Although, your ghost looks nothing like any of the men in the picture.

“Well they died,” The motel keeper says, something akin to god-fearing in her voice. “But whatever malevolent force has been haunting that place never did.”

You stare at her, wide-eyed and unblinking. Luis fills in for you where you can’t. 

“You’re not serious,” he says, but it comes out more like a question than a statement.

“Dead serious, hon. That place is no good. They say the prairie wind drove that family mad—” she states, sticking a thumb over her shoulder to point to the picture “—we’re just not so sure it was the wind that did it.”

You decidedly spend that night in the back of the van, parked right outside the homestead on that old gravel path. 

The wind whistles terribly and you begin to understand what they mean by prairie fever—you can’t fathom what it would’ve been like, out here, all alone with nothing but the wind and the wolves.

“Something’s wrong,” Luis murmurs just loud enough for you to hear. You turn your head, watching as he stares at the ceiling of the van.

There is a sudden unease that settles in your chest, watching him like this. Luis has never been rattled by the dark, never questioned the supernatural because he didn’t have a reason to. In many ways, he has been your anchor.

And what is a ship without its anchor?

You hum, mirroring his movements and righting your neck to stare up at the ceiling. “Luis, you say this every—”

“No, I mean it.” He cuts in, a certain urgency to his words. “We saw something, I saw it. He was–” His words die, fizzle into nothing on his tongue as if it’ll be a sin to refer to the shadow as anything more than just a shadow. “We can’t go back in there.”

You understand… yet you don’t.

“This is the closest we’ve ever been Luis, what do you mean we can’t?” Your words are oddly calm despite the desperation they clearly convey, “You know how much this means to me.”

Luis sighs, “I get it, I’m just not sure this is a good idea.” He hesitates. “I think… I think we’re way in over our heads this time.”

“I’ll be careful. I promise.”

Luis holds you to it.

A car crash—that’s what you see in your dream. Although, it feels more like a vision; a premonition or maybe a memory. 

You’re trapped behind your own eyes, sitting rigid in the passenger seat. There’s the sound of tyres screaming against the asphalt, a horrible blur of red and blue, glass and smoke. 

The car swerves hard, jerking your body with it, weightless, floating, falling. The ground falls away, and for a split second, there’s nothing. Just the sound of your own heartbeat pounding in your ears. 

You try to catch a glimpse of the driver, but your eyes are glued to the chaos that unfolds before you. You catch a glimpse of the side of his face, shadowed in the flickering lights. Just the curve of his jawline—sharp, familiar.

And then you slam into a tree.

The night is much less forgiving than day. In moonlight, your mind is left to fill in the gaps, pulls at the seams of reality, and paints over it with every fear you’ve ever had the cowardice to bury. A creak in the floor becomes footsteps. A sigh of wind becomes a distant cry. 

But daylight? Daylight spills over the horizon like a gentle promise. In daylight, things feel explainable. Safe. You do not falter and question the shape of shadows, each one is tethered to something, tangible and real, solid in your grasp.

Yet the homestead does not follow these rules.

The walls bleed with secrets you’ve yet to learn, each groan of the floorboards underneath your gentle footsteps sounds like another pair is following closely behind. Light spills through windows, but  it dies before it reaches the corners, and does not fill the room the way it should.

It’s that morning, one hour into your second investigation, that you smell it—something faint at first that quickly grows stronger, souring the air with each breath you suck in. It’s familiar but unwelcome, the unmistakable stench of decay. Luis notices it too, his nose wrinkling as he glances toward the far end of the hallway.

“Do you smell that?” he asks, his voice quiet.

You nod. 

The smell rots. It festers the further you walk down the hallway, intensifying until it clings to you like a second skin. It seeps through the floorboards, through every crack in splintering wood, and it leads you to a door. The one at the end of the hallway from the night before. The one you didn’t manage to open because he had been there.

Luis nudges you with his elbow. “Ladies first.”

“Very brave,” you mutter, pushing the door open.

Inside, the room is cold, the air heavy with dust. Yellowing and peeling wallpaper lines the walls, a dusty bed in the corner, a dresser by the opposite wall and a wardrobe by the adjacent one.

But what draws your attention are the walls—every inch covered in horrifying jagged scratches, as if something had clawed at the walls in a frenzy of desperation.

N-O-E-L.

The letters are scrawled over and over, the same pattern repeated a millennia of times. They twist and turn, written backwards and mirrored, as if whatever had left them behind had longed for a voice it had forgotten how to use.

“What the hell…” Luis murmurs, stepping closer with his polaroid camera, the shutter sounding as he snaps a few photos of the scratches. “What are we dealing with, the ghost of Christmas past?”

You swallow, admittedly now confused. “What does that even mean?” You muse, walking towards a wall and running your fingers over the splintering wood.

“His name, maybe?” Luis supplies, lifting his head from behind the camera.

Without thinking, you speak. “Is your name Noel?” 

Silence answers.

You decide to move around the room, keen to find answers where your ghost refuses to give them to you. Your fingertips grazing the walls as if you could pull the truth from the cracks in the old plaster.

“I know you did this,” you say, your voice firm but edged with a strange softness, like you’re coaxing something fragile from the dark. “Why won’t you tell me your name?”

The lights flicker. Luis begins to pray.

The stench grows, grows, grows, more potent with each step you take towards the bed. You fear you’ll find rot when you pull the covers back—a body, perhaps. But what you find confuses you more. You fall to your knees by the bed, crane your neck to peer beneath it, and your eyes catch the glint of silver.

Your hand stretches out, inching under the bed as your teeth catch your lip. When you pull the object free, you look up at Luis, who meets your gaze with the same confusion. In your hands you hold a hunting knife.

And as quickly as it had come, the stench subsides.

You turn the knife over in your hand as you push yourself off the dusty floor, a strange emblem is etched into the heel of the blade. 

“Well that’s not weird at all,” Luis mutters, taking the knife from your hand to inspect it himself. You bite the inside of your cheek, about to say something more, when a faint creak draws your attention. The wardrobe. The door swings open, as if nudged by an unseen hand. You meet Luis’ wary gaze, your heart thrumming with anticipation.

Drawn like a moth to a flame, you rise to your feet, walking closer, pulling the door open by its rusting brass handle. Inside hangs a tarnished mirror, and in it you catch your own reflection—dark circles ring your eyes, your reflection looks as drained as you’ve begun to feel.

Luis hums over your shoulder, a spark of realisation lighting his expression as he clicks his tongue. “Not Noel, look.”

You squint into the mirror, making out the jagged inscriptions in the wall that are now mirrored. “Leon?”

There’s a knock on the wall behind you, too loud to be mistaken for the walls of the house adjusting. 

“Is that a yes?” You breathe.

Two knocks.

Luis stares at you, his voice hushed, disbelieving. “Are you talking to a ghost?”

“Holy fuck, I’m talking to a ghost.”

Your ghost isn’t as terrifying with a name to its haunt. Leon, you’ve come to find, is gentle. You and Luis have spent the past three hours communicating with him; knock once for yes, twice for no. A language of patience.

You’ve been documenting it all in your notebooks—entry after entry of everything you’ve learnt. It's all you can do, considering the tapes you’ve tried to record burn out. You figure he doesn’t like the notion of being seen. Being known is different, though. You can feel that—he wants to be known.

He cannot leave.

He doesn’t remember how he got here.

He knows only his name.

You find he also likes to move things.

First, it was the photos. Luis had left the polaroids from the bedroom out on the dining room table to develop, safe with the windows drawn. You’d found them around the house later, one in your bag, another nestled between the equipment. Harmless. Cute, almost.

Then Leon started to move bigger objects. Your torch was found in the bedroom closet, Luis’ lighter in a kitchen cabinet, your hairpins scattered like breadcrumbs on the mantle of the fireplace. It’s a game to him, one that you find yourself eager to indulge. 

You slip into the kitchen, carrying a small wooden figure you’d picked up from the general store—nothing too special, a simple carving of a bluebird. Ghostly fingers might appreciate the weight of its worn edges, you think.

“Alright,” you say aloud, speaking to the empty room, “I – uh, got you something.”

You place the bluebird on the dining table, straightening the figure before taking a few gentle steps back. The temperature in the room drops suddenly, a chilly cold that you no longer mistake for the prairie wind, a denseness in the air that can only be explained by experience. 

Your EMF reader ticks up, and you itch to jot down the reading, yet the moment you turn your back, there’s the sound of wood scraping against wood. You spin back on your heel, only to see that the little bird has moved, facing the window with its beak pointed towards the fading sunlight.

“So you like the bird then?” You nearly laugh, low and under your breath.

There’s another scrape, this time longer. The bird moves again, right before your eyes, closer to the edge of the table.

Despite the absurdity of it all, you continue to talk. “Careful, you’ll knock it off.” You warn softly.

For a moment, nothing happens. Then the bird stops just short of tipping over the edge, as if Leon has taken your words into consideration. You watch as the bird drags back across the table to the centre. 

The lights flicker with your laughter, as if your ghost finds amusement in the cadence of your voice.

You begin to wonder how anyone could’ve thought this home was malevolent at all. The unease that had come with your first encounter has long since given way to something deeper—an ache, a yearning, a quiet desperation to understand. You don’t want to leave. You want to stay, to uncover every secret this house holds. 

How did he die? Was it peaceful, or something violent? What kind of life did he lead? Did he love? Did he lose?

You sit on the living room floor, your back pressed against the wall, clicking your pen twice as you jot down tonight’s meeting in your notebook. From the wall beside you, two soft knocks answer in return.

There is a difference between an architectural haunting and a hereditary one. There’s a certain comfort in knowing a haunting is bound to a place, that its roots lie deep within the dirt that make up the home’s foundation. That it cannot follow you home.

But when a haunting becomes hereditary—when it latches onto you, burrows under your skin, sinks its claws into your soul, twisting, festering—when it’s tethered to you, that's when the fear takes hold. You cannot outrun a hereditary haunting.

Last night, you dreamt again. The homestead, its walls bleeding dark and thick, like wounds seeping into your memory. The flashes came in fragments: the house, the woods, a clearing bathed in moonlight. A glint of a knife to match the gleam of his eyes. And then, the sensation of cold mud pressed against your skin as you lay in the dirt, helpless, hopeless, dead.

You wake in the middle of the night and wonder when this haunting stopped feeling architectural.

Luis finds you on the third day in the parlour, your fingers curled around the edge of an old, weather-beaten box. It drags across the warped floorboards with a groan, sending up a small cloud of dust. 

He pauses in the doorway. “What are you doing?” His voice cuts through the otherwise quiet home. 

“Cleaning up.” You keep your eyes on the box, focused as you rifle through its contents.

Luis steps further into the room, his boots crunching on the debris-strewn floor, nearly tripping over the marbles you had laid out earlier for Leon to move. “Cleaning up?” His brow furrows. “Jesus, I thought we were here to investigate.”

“We are,” you mutter, your hands brushing off the dust clinging to your clothes as you turn to face him. “I’m just helping out.”

“Helping out?” Luis stops mid-step, his confusion sharpening. “Helping the ghost?”

Your hands still. The air shifts, colder than before, almost as if something is standing beside you. You glance over your shoulder, but it’s just Luis, a mix of disbelief and frustration in his gaze.

“Yes, Luis,” You sound annoyed now. Tension thick in the air.

His laugh is short and bitter. “This is crazy,” he mutters, his voice rising slightly. “You’re growing too - too attached, we need to leave.”

“No.” You straighten up, the words more defensive than you intend. “He needs help. Look at the state of this place!” You gesture to the peeling wallpaper, the broken furniture scattered, the oppressive sense of neglect.

“He?” Luis tries to be your voice of reason, tethering you back to reality, to the here and now because currently you seem like you’re in a different plane of existence entirely. 

“Yes, he.” You drag the box into a corner, your back to him, and run your hand across its lid. The texture feels wrong—too damp, too cold, as if the cardboard itself is rotting from the inside. “He’s trapped here,” you murmur, more to yourself than to Luis. “I don’t know how long, but... it’s been years. He doesn’t even have anyone to mourn him.”

Luis exhales sharply, his breath fogging the air. When did it get so cold? “You don’t know that,” he snaps, his voice louder, louder, louder. “You don’t even know who ‘he’ is!”

The words hit you like a slap. Something shifts, as if the chain binding his anchor to your ship has snapped and broken all at once.

“I’m not—” You stop, swallowing the words. “I’m not crazy, Luis.”

You can see the flicker of regret in his eyes, the way his expression softens, but it doesn’t erase the sting of his words. He hesitates, lowering his voice as if it could take back the hurt.

“I didn’t say that,” he murmurs, “But you’re not thinking straight. You haven’t been since that night. The ghost—or whatever it is—has you hooked. And you don’t even see it–”

Each word feels like a knife twisting deeper. The betrayal coils inside you, bitter and raw. You trusted him to believe in you, to see you, even when no one else did. You open your mouth to argue, but your ghost has better timing.

A sudden, violent knocking echoes through the house, an urgency to each rap. This time, it’s not coming from within the walls, and oddly, that unsettles you more than if it were. The sound pounds from the front door, growing louder, louder, louder with each second that passes. When both you and Luis rush to the foyer, you stare blankly as the door handle rattles on its own.

You don’t think when you walk forward, as if compelled by an unseen force, your hand wrapping around the crystal handle before twisting it and tugging it open. There, crumpled on the porch, lies a bird.

It’s ruined. Feather slicked by a sheen of its own blood, some still fluttering in the wind, others matted to exposed bone. The body is split open, like something had torn it apart with its bare hands, its innards spilt on the rotting boards. Thin ropes of intestine, wet and glistening, loop over themselves. 

The head, nearly severed, hangs at a grotesque angle, twisted so far back it looks as though it were straining to see something beyond its reach, connected by just a thin sinew of flesh. One of its glassy black eyes remains open, dull and lifeless, its beak parted in a scream that never came.

The bird has blue feathers. A bluebird, you realise.

Leon doesn’t speak much the rest of the day—if you can qualify the knocks and the flickers of light as speech at all. When you ask him about the bluebird, there's only silence. When you press him on whether he caused it, a vase shatters like fallen stars at your feet.

Perhaps he’s not all gentle. Neither are you, though, so you give him grace. You pick up the shards of glass one by one, wrap them up in a handkerchief, and discard them in the garden. 

It’s only when you return inside that you realise you’re bleeding. A thin line of red trails from the split in your thumb, the sting arrives after, delayed but insistent. You watch it drip, swirling with the water as you rinse it away, the crimson draining down the sink.

You’ve grown used to seeing Leon in your periphery. His shadow is a presence that has grown comforting. Unknown to know, unfamiliar to familiar. You find yourself looking forward to the night even more now, eager for a glimpse of him. But tonight, he doesn’t visit.

You think you might’ve upset him. Between the dead bird and the silence, maybe he didn’t like all the arguing, how loud the house had gotten today. You don’t blame him. 

“Luis wants to leave tomorrow,” You hum softly into the darkness. You don’t need to see Leon to know he’ll be listening. “I have to go with him.”

Silence.

“I’ll miss you,” You try again, your voice holding a sense of urgency. Please, please, please.

Again, silence.

You ignore the tears that prick at your eyes, upset that your ghost is ignoring you. You fall asleep with a headache and a heartache to match. But when you dream that night, it’s much more alarming than any of the ones before.

You wake in the darkness, your body stiff in your dream like you’ve lost your flesh and have been made up of bones. Rigor mortis once more. For a second you think this might be some sort of horrible sleep paralysis,but before the panic can set in, your eyes focus on the cracks of light in your vision, seeping through the darkness of your mind.

You’re not sure what part of your brain comes to the conclusion, but you realise you’re stuck under something, in something maybe. A coffin? Something wooden. You can smell the musk of the cottonwood.

When you wake from the dream, your headache is pounding twice as hard, you sit up, groaning as you press a hand to your head. When your eyes open, your breath catches in your throat. 

Leon.

He's there. Right there.

Closer than he’s ever dared to get, standing beside your bed, watching, waiting, like he always is. Yet, he looks more solid, more here than you’d ever seen of him before. You could make out the shape of his nose, the curve of his eyes, the length of his lashes.

Your heart beats wildly in your chest, bated breath caught in the cavern of your throat as you try to comprehend what you’re seeing. 

“Leon,” you whisper his name, your voice shaky, barely more than a breath.

He doesn’t move, but his eyes soften, just slightly, a weight behind his gaze that you can’t quite place. You watch his chest rise and fall with breath that should not be there, lungs that have no reason to expand, a heart that doesn’t beat. And yet, yet, he is here, in front of you, as vivid as anyone else would be.

You lift your hand, your fingers trembling as they hover just above his cheek. You know he isn’t real, not in the way you are, but in this moment, he feels real enough. The heat of your skin, the cool air between you—it all blurs together until the only thing you are sure of is him.

Slowly, carefully, your fingertips brush his skin.

It is faint—barely a touch at all, like reaching through fog—but it is there. For a second, maybe less, his skin feels solid beneath your fingers, cold but tangible. The breath catches in your throat as your hand lingers, the boundary between life and death blurring, blurring, blurring. His eyes flutter closed. 

But then, just as quickly, the sensation is gone. Your fingers slip through air, the chill of the room returning, and he is nothing more than a ghost again.

No, no, no your mind screams. A desperation in the way you reach for him again only to feel nothing. A hand over his chest is merely a hand in mid-air. You cannot feel the beat of his undead heart.

Yet, the weight of his gaze remains, heavy with something you cannot name. You want more. You want him to stay. You want to stay.

Leon’s lips part, the faintest hint of a breath escaping, and you swear you can almost hear him say something. Almost. His hand twitches, as if he is also trying to reach for you, but can’t quite cross the divide.

It is unbearable, the way you see him see you. 

You don’t tell Luis of what happened last night, refuse to unravel the complexities of the ache in your being that cannot be satiated anymore. 

It’s not pain exactly—at least not the kind Luis would understand. It’s deeper than that, a longing you can’t explain. You’re stuck here, you realise, tethered not by chains but by something far less visible, yet much harder to sever. 

Luis frowns when you tell him to go without you, that you’ll follow in a day or two. He doesn’t believe you, not entirely. There is scepticism in the way he argues, but you don’t have much fight left anymore. Maybe there isn’t in him, either.

You’d promised yourself this was temporary—a few nights, maybe a week—just long enough to get the evidence you needed. But those days had unravelled into something else. You couldn’t say when you’d first realised you weren’t going to leave. Maybe it was when the lights began to flicker in time with your heartbeat, or when the chill of the air began to feel like a ghost of a touch on your skin.

There was no evidence to gather anymore. No story left to tell but this one.

And perhaps, you think, that’s always been the truth of you—this love of yours, spilling over the edges of your heart until it found something, someone, to hold onto. Living or dead, it didn’t seem to matter. Love for you has never needed a pulse, just a presence.

You walk through the homestead, the familiar creak of the floorboards beneath your feet, and find that the air no longer feels heavy. There’s no longer that crushing weight on your chest, no musk of decay hanging like a warning. You breathe, and for the first time, the house feels still.

"Leon?" you call, your voice fragile, unsure.

The lights flicker in response, faint and distant.

Maybe, you think, this house has always been your grave.

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[mrsperv]

Smash or pass

Leon fucking his sweetheart who holds a teddy bear to her chest.

SMASH!!!!! 🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️ tell me why i have a porn link of this exact thing.. hello

link!

no cuz in this specific situation, he would find it so hot :(( he’s so gross and icky!! having you whine, holding the bear up to your chest while you take his cock.. that might actually send him to cardiac arrest.. freak.

i fear he likes cum on the teddy for funsies sometimes, don’t worry! he puts the teddy in the wash after.. sometimes. (＞人＜;) it’s mostly whenever you’re out of the house, he just can’t help it! you use that teddy and hug it close every night, it smells like you and all, he just can’t help holding it up to his face while jerking off :(