lilyleely - Tumblr blog

lilyleely · 10 months

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♡ drunk with chan

⇢ pairing: chan x fem!reader ⇢ word count: 2.7k ⇢ genre: smut, friends to lovers ⇢ summary: a texting mishap makes it sound like you’re offering your friend a handjob ⇢ warnings: 18+, minors dni!; mentions of an injury, handjob, cumshot, unprotected sex, breast play ⇢ masterlist ♡ series masterpost ♡ updates ♡ read on AO3 ⇢ reblogs and feedback are always motivating and appreciated! ♡

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The club is boring tonight, to say the least. Firstly, it’s because Chan isn’t drinking with you. Usually, you two are the loudest and most annoying people when your friend group goes out clubbing just because you dance like no one’s watching and do stupid things that make you laugh. In other words, you release all the pent-up stress and don’t act your age, for a change.

Tonight, Chan is not drinking because he’s grabbed a boiling pot with his bare hands, leaving both his palms burned. They’re recovering slowly, but it’s only been ten days and he’s on meds, so he can’t drown his sorrow in alcohol. He’s been snapping at his roommates for the smallest things, and they were surprised he even wanted to join you all tonight. He did join you, but he’s been sitting by the table all night with one fist completely bandaged up and the other only partially, looking around or just staring at his phone.

The second reason why the club is boring is that no one manages to catch your attention, other than Chan. He is a friend, but so are the other guys, who are all very charming and handsome and pretty—but only he makes you feel that way, which is becoming obvious. Because of this, you’re not around him tonight, especially since you’re drinking and he’s not. You both might have a small crush on each other—more serious on your end than on his, you’re sure—but you don’t want to admit to any feelings or anything like that.

You’re sure you will if he snaps at you while you’re drunk. You’d probably cry, too, and then it’d really be obvious. So, you resort to just standing around the bar and watching him, enjoying the fact that he wore a tank top, which reveals so much of his skin, muscled chest, and sides, the arms that you want to hold onto while he plows into your cu—

“Take a picture while you’re at it.” You’d recognize Minho’s snickering anywhere, so you scoff and shake your head at his petty little comment.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” you mutter back and go back to your drink. Is your crush really that obvious?

“Wait, you have a little something here,” he says and leans in, thumb swiping over the side of your chin. “Oh, it’s just the drool from all that staring.”

You swat his hand away and roll your eyes at the comment. “Ha-ha, funny.” It would be funny if it weren’t absolutely tragic.

“Just tell him. The man’s had a shitty couple of weeks, he could do with some good news.”

“There’s nothing to tell.”

It’s a lie, and you both know it. Minho’s words stay with you, make you drink more, make you stare at the object of your desire longingly, wishing you had the guts to make the first move. But, the fear of rejection is too strong, probably always will be.

And then, he texts.

Chan: this place is so boring

Chan: i’m going home

You take a while to type your response, not noticing that he’s sent something else in the meantime. You respond with “i’m coming with”, and only then realize the conversation reads:

Chan: gonna go jerk off

You: i’m coming with!

What is he going to think of this now? You feel like you want to throw up, but then again, it’s kind of funny. Chan will understand. But, he’s the only one who’s not drunk, so he might find it weird.

Minho texts, too.

Minho: when i said go for it, i didn’t mean in the group chat

Minho: either way, smart move

You go back to the conversation and realize that Chan hadn’t texted you—he’d texted the group chat, which means all your friends can see the thing you sent and made a fool out of yourself.

Jisung: 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

Felix: so we should stay here for at least an hour

The rest of them probably haven’t seen your embarrassment yet, but you’re sure they’ll have something stupid to say when they do. And then, Chan responds.

Chan: shut the fuck up

You’re not sure if he’s angry with you or with them, but it doesn’t sound goo. A second later, he texts you outside of the group chat.

Chan: are you going home?

And so you find yourself in the back of an Uber with him. He hasn’t said a word about the group chat. All he did was get in the car and stare through the window, chewing on his bottom lip.

“So are you really going home to jerk off?” you ask, chuckling as you remember the embarrassment from earlier. It’s awkward as hell, but it’s better to address it when you’re tipsy than tomorrow when you’re sober.

“I fucking wish,” Chan tells you, lifting both hands to remind you of the current state of his hands.

“Wait—” You gasp, realizing why he’s been so fucking snarky lately, why his fuse seems shorter than usual, why he’s been so off. “You can’t do it on your own?”

“Nope.”

“That explains why you’ve been… weird.”

“Weird?” He looks at you with a frown. “Towards you? I really didn’t mean to. I’m just… frustrated. Can’t do anything with these hands, not even that.”

“Don’t you have a fleshlight or something?”

Chan looks up in embarrassment, chuckling. “No, I don’t.” With that, he looks through the window. “I’ll get these off sooner or later and then I’ll stop being weird, I guess. Sorry if I was rude to you.”

“You weren’t,” you say with a gulp because your mind is taking you places it shouldn’t be taking you, like wondering just how hard his cock would get if you were the first thing to touch him after such a long time… How quickly would he blow? “Do you need a hand?”

“What?” His head snaps in your direction. “What do you mean?”

“With… that?” you ask, sneaking a glance at the boner that’s very visible.

Chan gets them around you sometimes—when you’re talking about sexual stuff or when you’re sitting on his lap or cuddling—but he usually shoves a hand in his pocket to hide the telltale sign of arousal. He can’t do that tonight and he knows he’s busted—you can tell when he bites down on his lip and chuckles nervously.

“Sorry,” he whispers, “I… I’m like an animal these days.”

An animal? God, that sounds promising.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“You’re serious about this?” Chan looks at you questioningly, a slight frown on his face.

“It’s just a… Handjob, I guess.” You shrug, making it seem more meaningless than it actually is.

When you get to his place, you’re still determined to go through with it and you have alcohol to thank for that. Chan asks you if you’re sure again, and you laugh it off, going towards his bedroom. It’s just a handjob, right? Just that.

So, when he sits on his bed and pulls his shorts and boxers down a bit, you shouldn’t shiver, right? Your mouth shouldn't salivate, and you definitely shouldn’t be thinking about taking him in your mouth and gagging on i—

“You really don’t have to,” Chan says again, placing his bandaged hands over his cock, covering it. “I can live for another week, it’s no—”

You grab his hands by the wrists and pull them away. The next second, you’re straddling his knees. It’s not because you want to be close to him, it’s just that the position feels more natural. “Just shut up and let me help you for once,” you hiss the words, alluding to the well-known fact that Chan always has everyone’s back. Maybe it’s time you did something for him, even if it’s as self-indulgent as this.

Chan grunts when you wrap both hands around his cock and start tugging at it. “Do you have any lube?” you ask, knowing it would be wildly inappropriate to wet his cock with your mouth. Even though rushed, the moment is weirdly intimate, or at least that’s what it seems like when your eyes meet and you realize you’re on Chan with his dick in your hands and that he’s trembling under your touch.

“Uhm... Top drawer,” he finally speaks, looking at the nightstand. His voice quivers, which makes you feel a bit better about being so shaken up about getting to finally touch him. His cock is so hard and warm and you can help but think about what it would feel like inside of you.

You get the bottle of lube out, squirt some on your palm, rub both palms together, and get back to what you were doing. This time, Chan moans and closes his eyes, letting his head rest on the wall. “Fuck.”

You’re going fast since it’s what most of your partners preferred. A hard grip, fast movements, a squeeze here and there and they’d shoot quickly—you figure that will work for him too. “Good?” you still check, wanting to hear Chan say it. Selfish, this whole idea of yours.

“Perfect,” he hisses, opening his eyes. “Slow down.”

“Don’t like it fast?” you wonder, slowing down your movements, just as he asked.

“I like it a lot,” Chan explains, looking down at your hands. “Too much.”

“Oh,” you understand what he means when you realize how much precum has dripped out of his cock. That’s when you remember he hasn’t been touched in a while and that he’s probably been aching for release. “Come fast if you want to, I don’t care.”

“It’s— I want to enjoy it some more.” The fact that he bites his lip after saying that makes you whimper, which is embarrassing considering you aren’t being touched in any way. “You okay there?”

“I… Yes.”

“Sure?” he asks, gaining his confidence back. “You look a little flustered.”

“Maybe because your dick is in my hands,” you suggest, scoffing. Since Chan chuckles, you decide to be mean and start moving faster again, which gets him to hiss in mere seconds.

“Please, please, please,” he begs so sweetly that you really don’t want to stop, but you do.

“Why do you not want to come?” Isn’t he snapping at people because he just wanted to orgasm?

“I want to,” Chan stresses, looking at your hands once again. They do look nice around him, you have to admit, especially all wet and slippery. “I need to, but I want… I… Don’t want to make things weird, but I guess they already are. I want to enjoy you touching me for as long as I can.”

It’s not romantic, it’s not any type of admission of feelings or anything of the sort, yet you find yourself smiling and looking away like a fool. A fool in love, but he doesn’t have to know.

“Chan,” you hum slowly, starting to tug at his cock with both hands, twisting them in the opposite directions. “Come. I’ll touch you again, I promise.”

“I can’t ask for this twice,” he shakes his head, “I can’t.”

“I’m already doing it once, so what’s the difference?” You shrug, knowing very well the more times you do this, the more you’re going to want the man.

“I won’t want you to stop, fuck—” He grunts when you start going fast, face twisting as if he’s in pain, a guttural groan turning you on beyond belief. “Get greedy and all that.”

“Sometimes greedy is good,” you say and grin at him right before starting to move so fast you just know he’ll blow.

“I’ll— I’ll come. Fuck, yeah… You’re so good at this,” he gulps, “I’ll come. Don’t want it to get on you.”

“Can you come all over yourself?” you ask the question before really thinking about what you’re asking. It’s something that turns you on immensely, but definitely not something you tell guys you aren’t even dating. Hell, you haven’t really said it out loud before.

“That’s what you want?” Chan cocks an eyebrow up and gives you a smirk, and you just know he’s about to start teasing, so you start twisting your hands again. “I can, I can.”

So, you push his cock away from you, getting it to point towards him, and continue doing what you’re doing. The louder Chan gets, the louder you get, even though you’re not being touched.

You can’t stay quiet when the guy you want to fuck is moaning because of you, grunting your name, digging his heels into the bed, twisting and turning under you. He blows without warning, cum shooting out and spraying his black shirt, streaks of white cum staining it instantly, the fabric soaking in the sperm. You keep jerking him off until he gives you everything, until all the cum is out and on his shirt, until Chan’s body relaxes under you and he whimpers. “Fuck, I needed this.”

You wipe your hands on his shirt and then tug at the hem. “Up.” He listens, allowing you to take the shirt off of him. You get up and take it to the bathroom, soaking it in water to get the cum out of it.

When you get back to the room, Chan is still in the same place you left him, head resting on the wall, cock out. He looks tired but blissful, so you walk over to the bed and grin. “You okay?”

He nods at you and looks at his lap. “Come sit.” When you take your earlier position, Chan places his hands on your thighs, but he can’t really touch you—the bandages are in the way. Still, you can feel the warmth of his body, so you shiver.

“Listen, I… Can I return the favor?”

“Re— Return the favor?” You gulp, wondering what he wants to do with you, wondering why you’ve already made up your mind about letting him.

“I can’t finger you, but I can… I have my mouth, still.”

It’s then you notice he’s hard again, and you wonder just how many times he can go in a row. Maybe you’ll find out someday. “You’re serious about that? You don’t have to return anything.”

“I know, I’m just— I want to.”

“Why?”

“Come on, I’m not oblivious,” Chan notes, and you know exactly what he means. “You aren’t either. We’ve already crossed the line, might as well do it in style.”

“Then how about I make you come again?”

“Me?”

You grab his cock again and run your hand over it, sneaking the other one down between your legs, under your skirt, pushing your underwear to the side. That’s when Chan realizes what you mean and looks up at you with adoration on his face. “You want that?”

Instead of responding, you scoot over closer and lift your hips so you can position him at your entrance. When Chan nods at you, you sink all the way onto it and grunt loudly. Fuck, it feels good.

“Fuck me,” he groans, “how can anything feel this good?”

“Right?” you grunt right back, grabbing his shoulders. “You just came and you’re already this fucking hard? What?”

“Can you please take off your shirt and whatever you have under it?”

You do as asked, not realizing Chan would instantly attach his mouth to your tits and start sucking on them one by one. Here and there, his teeth dig into the flesh, making you cry out while you move your hips back and forth and then in circles, trying to find the motion that feels best for both of you. It’s so easy to get lost in it, though, when he sucks on your nipple so sweetly and looks up at you with puppy eyes.

So, you have no choice but to wrap an arm around him and use the other to tug at his hair while you ride him. “You really like them, huh?” It’s been minutes of him just going at it—licking, sucking, biting, suckling, and he doesn’t seem to want to stop.

“Always stare at them,” he admits, breathless. “Wanted to touch it for a long time. Now I get the chance but can’t.”

You laugh at that, realizing how tough everything must be for him right now. Fuck, the guy can’t even get himself off properly. But, now Chan has you.

if you want to support my writing, you can buy me a coffee here and let me know what you think about it here. thank you! ♡

#screaming kicking my legs!!!!!

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lilyleely · 1 year

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The Three Times You Share A Bed - Leon S Kennedy

Pairing: Leon Kennedy x reader

Genre: fluff, some light angst thrown in towards the end?

Word Count: 2.7k

Summary: two times you sleep in leon's bed, and the one time he sleeps in yours

CW: roommate! Leon, kinda friends to lovers?, light angst, abandonment issues, paranoia, fear + insomnia, mentions of zombies, bedsharing, leon has intimacy issues (get therapy challenge)

OMG HAPPY RE4 RELEASE!!! I am SO excited to play once im done work this weekend! Leon looks so damn fine in the gameplay ive seen and i am going FERAL! pls no spoilers for anything new in the game! <3

RE4 remake spoiler free zone!! I have yet to play the remake so there are no spoilers in this!

————

The telltale clicking of a key in the door has you on your feet in seconds, abandoning the plush throw blanket on the couch. Before it even opens, you’re standing on the doormat. You feel a little silly, like a golden retriever waiting for its owner, but the shame is washed away when Leon steps through the door.

It’s been three weeks since you’ve last seen your roommate and best friend, and just as long since you last had company. He raises an eyebrow at the sight of you standing in front of him, the dark circles under his eyes becoming more prominent.

“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” He sighs and drops his backpack on the floor, locking the door behind him.

“How was it?”

You fight the urge to wrap your arms around his broad shoulders and inhale his scent, knowing that’s not what friends do. Still, the feeling is there and if he went in for it, you’d reciprocate in a heartbeat.

He opens the fridge and beams at the fully stocked drinks and snacks. He cracks open a can of cider and leans against the counter. “Long,” he admits, “way too long. And my nose is still burning from the smell of rotten flesh.” You crinkle your nose at the thought. Leon’s never been much of a talker and most of his work being classified didn’t help. Whenever something wasn’t top secret, though, you were sure to sit there and listen no matter how horrific the details were.

You settle in on the couch next to the agent, listening to him drone on about a zombie-like creature that had peeling flesh and fifty eyes. You could vividly picture it from his words alone, and the image of the creature sent a shiver up your spine.

Leon talks for hours, spilling every miniscule detail of every horror he encounters. You stay the whole time, nodding along. Leon laughs at the way you scrunch your face in disgust or close your eyes in fear. He hates how cute you are, but he can’t seem to stop telling you stories. After many hours and a few drinks between the two of you, he’s almost run out of stories to tell.

Leon pats your shoulder gently, collecting his cans from where he’d set them on the coffee table. “I need a shower,” he states. “I’ll see you tomorrow, y/n.”

“Go shower. You stink,” you joke and punch him in the ribs.

He feigns injury at your blow, pretending to suck in a breath like you’d really hurt him. He keeps up the facade the whole way to his bedroom, only leaving character when he shuts the door behind him.

It’s only when he’s disappeared that you realize how late it's gotten—and how dark. Even though your shared apartment is on the 19th floor, you can’t help but worry something is going to crawl through your window. You shake the thoughts away and get ready for bed, but every gust of wind and rustling of leaves makes you flinch.

You close your eyes and tug your comforter over your head, hoping that if there is something out there, it won’t know you’re there. You toss and turn for a while longer, staying dead quiet and pushing your fears away.

Finally, you can’t take it anymore. You take a deep breath, throw your comforter off of your shoulders, and sprint to Leon’s room. It’s like your brain is on autopilot—it knows exactly where to go to be safe.

You don’t knock on the door, instead quietly twisting the knob and slipping in through a crack in the door. Leon sits up as soon as your feet touch the wooden floor, eyes snapping towards your silhouette. He’s been a light sleeper ever since Racoon City, waking at the slightest of sounds.

He relaxes at the sight of you but only for a second. He glances at his digital clock, eyes widening at the time. “Y/n? What are you still doing up?”

“I-I couldn’t sleep…I feel like a flesh eating zombie is going to climb through my window and eat me.”

He chuckles. “That would be my fault.” He shuffles over in bed and pulls back the comforter. “You’re more than welcome to stay here for the night.”

You crawl into bed next to him, keeping as much distance between the two of you as possible. You can feel his body heat radiating through the blankets and smell his body wash on his skin. The feeling is new, yet so familiar it eases you instantly.

“Leon?”

He hums in response.

“Is it safer to sleep next to the window or the door? From like, a secret agent standpoint.”

“We’re on the 19th floor so window, but unless it's a hotel room, the door. You would more than likely hear it if they broke down the front door so you’d have more time to get out.”

You think for a second. “Can we switch places?”

“Honestly, y/n,” he laughs dryly, “the safest place to sleep right now is next to me.”

Your face warms at that and you nod, relaxing into his pillows. While you drift off to sleep, Leon watches over you. He knows nothing is going to come for you here, but he did promise to keep you safe, and he’ll keep that promise no matter what.

—

When you get home, you’re in a foul mood. You practically throw the groceries onto the counter before walking to your room and throwing yourself onto your bed. It’s been a long day. All of the stores were so busy you could hardly get through the aisles, and all of the people you encountered were rude.

Leon comes out of his room a few minutes later. Seeing the groceries abandoned on the counter, his first thought is to check on you. He doesn’t check on you, though. Not yet, anyway. He knows you’ll just be more upset if the frozen items melt and the milk sits out all night, so he sets out on putting them away.

After almost an hour of laying in your bed trying to recuperate after the day you’ve had, you’re snapped out of it by a text.

Leon: Come here, I have a surprise for you

You don’t feel like leaving your bed, but you force yourself out of it anyway. It’s not Leon you’re mad at. Leon is probably the only person in the world you don’t hate right now. You knock on his door softly, holding your arms behind your back.

“Come in!” He shouts.

You open the door, shuffling into his room and closing it behind you. Your jaw drops when you see a tray in the middle of his bed piled high with your favorite snacks, drinks and two wine glasses. Leon pats the spot next to him and you’re happy to oblige, relaxing onto the mattress.

“You didn’t have to do this, you know.”

He shrugs, pouring you a glass of wine. “It already seems like you had a bad day, I just wanted to do something to make it a little better for you.”

“Thank you.” He nods in acknowledgement, turning on his tv and handing you the remote. “You can choose the first movie. Just—maybe no zombies?”

You snort at that. Classic Leon, using his corny jokes to make light of even the worst of situations. You settle on an old favorite movie you love, handing the remote back to the blond and switching it for a wine glass.

Between your favorite movie, the delicious wine and your favorite snacks, your spirits are lifted in no time. One movie turns into two, and two turns into three. Soon enough, you’re dozing off in Leon’s bed.

He moves the tray of snacks and the glasses off of the bed to give you more room to sprawl out. Laying down next to you, he watches you sleep. A part of him wishes he could see this every night—the same sight he fantasizes about on even the hardest of missions.

He flicks off the lamp on his side table and settles in. “Good night, cutie,” he mumbles, knowing you’re far too deep in sleep to hear him.

—

You wake up in the middle of the night, moonlight streaming through the window and illuminating Leon’s bedroom. You’re still numb from sleep, your senses dulled just enough that it takes you a minute to realize that something is grabbing you. No, not grabbing—holding.

You blink a few times. Leon is laying next to you, his chest pressed to your back, his arms around your waist. You can feel the slow beating of his heart and the heat coming off of his skin. He’s so close it overwhelms you, yet it’s all you’ve ever wanted.

You think about slipping away but you know what a light sleeper he is, and you don’t think you could handle it if he woke up and saw how close you were. You close your eyes and try to calm the beating in your heart so you can fall back asleep.

When you wake up again, Leon is gone. Your body feels cold where his once was. You sit up—is he showering? He can’t be, the bathroom door is open. You sit up, letting the blankets fall off of you. You swing your legs over the side of his bed, walking out to the kitchen, but he’s not there either.

Did he leave to go get something?

You check your phone, expecting to see a text saying he ran out to go get more milk or something, but there’s nothing. You sigh, typing up a message and sending it to him.

Y/N: where’d you go?

You practically jump when your phone lets out a noise, but your heart sinks when you see what it is.

Message Not Delivered. Try Again?

You sigh. That can only mean one thing: he’s on another mission. Typical Leon, disappearing in the middle of the night to go god knows where for god knows how long. The frustration bubbles up in your chest and you feel like hitting something, but you don’t. It’s not worth it.

You try to keep your mind off of his sudden disappearance by throwing yourself into chores. You wash his bedding and make his bed, then wash your own. You sweep and mop the floors and vacuum the carpets. You dust the blinds.

It doesn’t help.

Your mind keeps wandering back to the fact that he left without saying goodbye. That he woke up at some ungodly hour, saw you laying in his arms, got up and left without another word. He didn’t even leave a note. He really cares that little.

You shake your head and even though the pit in your stomach makes you feel like not eating, you make yourself a sandwich regardless. Seeing the untouched groceries in the fridge just adds to the feeling.

Even though you know he’s not going to get it, you pull out your phone and start typing.

Y/N: do you at least know when you’ll be back?

Message Not Delivered. Try Again?

The message makes you roll your eyes. Leon fucking Kennedy.

—

A week goes by, and then two, and you still hear nothing from your roommate. You send texts here and there, hoping for an answer, but none of them go through. Eventually, you start venting to him through there, too. Expressing how frustrated you are that he didn’t say goodbye, how annoying your feelings are, how sometimes you wish you didn’t know him so you didn’t have to go through this.

It’s a random Sunday night when you’re sitting on the couch, watching trash reality tv and eating snacks. It’s cold in the apartment, but you can’t be bothered to turn on the heat. Only when your arms puff up with goosebumps do you scour the room for a sweater, settling on a random one hanging on the back of a chair.

It’s Leon’s, an old one from the Police Academy. His smell floods your nose when you pull it over your head, and it's so bittersweet you don’t know if you should laugh or cry. You settle back on the couch, but a rustling at the window makes you freeze in your tracks.

It stops for a moment, and you can almost convince yourself you’ve imagined it or it’s a part of the show—until it happens again. You scramble for the remote, pausing it so you can hear better. The noise starts again, and you waste no time in hightailing it to your bedroom and slamming the door behind you.

You flop onto your bed, trying (and failing) to remind yourself that it’s just the wind. That you’re safe here. But it’s hard when it’s late and you’re tired and you’re alone and the only person you feel safe with just abandoned you.

You curl up into a ball, pulling Leon’s sweater over your mouth and inhaling the familiar scent. It’s enough to calm you down, if only for a few moments. If you close your eyes, you can almost trick yourself into thinking he’s there, and for now, that’s good enough.

—

Leon knows he fucked up when he gets back to the country and turns on his phone. Almost fifty messages from you, each one more sad than the last. He wants to slap himself—why couldn’t he just grow a pair and say goodbye? Why did he have to be so noncommittal?

He reads every message on the cab ride back to the apartment, and his heart breaks for you. He didn’t think about how you would drive yourself crazy over him or how worried you must have been. All he thought about was getting the call for the mission in the middle of the night and not wanting to wake you up.

But he didn’t abandon you. He thought about you every day and god—he wishes he could have talked to you. Hearing your voice and seeing your face was enough to make everything better. With the horrors he’s seen lately, all he wants is to be back in that bed with you for one more night.

He’s quiet coming into the apartment, hoping he doesn’t wake you up or scare you. And even though he knows you’re sleeping, he’s still disappointed you’re not waiting at the door for him.

He tosses his backpack into his room and strips off all of his holsters and velcro. He’s quiet walking down the hallway to your room and even quieter opening the door. He relaxes at the sight of you curled up in a ball.

You look so cute and so peaceful and—is that his sweater? The sight brings a smile to his face. He closes the door behind him with a soft click, climbing into the bed next to you.

You wake up when the bed dips down and arms wrap around you. You’re so tired you don’t even care who or what it is.

“If you’re gonna kill me, can you at least let me sleep first?” You mumble.

You fully awake as soon as you hear Leon’s laugh.

“You’re back?” You say, and you hate the way your voice cracks.

You turn around to face him, tired ocean eyes meeting yours. He nods sleepily, “‘m sorry I didn’t say goodbye. It was stupid of me.”

“It’s okay,” and it really is okay. All the resentment you felt melted away at the sight of him.

“C’mere,” he mumbles.

You lay your head on his chest, wrapping your arms around him. You can hear his heart rate slow down at the contact.

“I just—I just need you tonight.” Those are big words coming from the agent, and they leave you completely stunned. He must have seen or done something horrible while he was away for him to be this vulnerable, even with you.

“You can have me tonight.” You try to keep your voice even, “you can have me whenever you need me,”

He kisses the top of your head. “But I always need you.”

“Then I’m always yours.”

Neither of you speak after that, Leon falling into a light sleep. You stay up a while longer, watching the blond boy rest beneath you. He looks so fragile like this, you can’t imagine him fighting off monsters and handling weapons. You kiss his collarbone through his shirt and let yourself fall asleep with him.

#i always come back to this for a pick me up #i want a leon of my own pls n tq

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lilyleely · 1 year

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𝕃𝕖𝕠𝕟 𝕊 𝕂𝕖𝕟𝕟𝕖𝕕𝕪 | ℝ𝕖𝕤𝕚𝕕𝕖𝕟𝕥 𝔼𝕧𝕚𝕝 𝟜 (𝟚𝟘𝟚𝟛)

ᴬᶠᵗᵉʳ ˢᶦˣ ʸᵉᵃʳˢ… ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᶦˢ ᵒⁿᵉ ʰᵉˡˡ ᵒᶠ ᵃ ᵍʳᵉᵉᵗᶦⁿᵍ.

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lilyleely · 1 year

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you & i ; leon kennedy / reader

and i'm not normally the jealous, jealous type. but if we're picking favorites than i am yours. [jealousy, requited unrequited love]

He wouldn’t admit it, but you could see it clear as day in his eyes. Or at least you think you could. Leon was quiet and focused, repeatedly checking on his hand gun like he didn’t believe it was perfectly fine. You fiddle with your combat knife between your fingers while stealing glances at him. No matter how many times you asked if he was alright he always gave the same excuse: It’s just Ashley. But it wasn’t. He was worried, but his mind was occupied with something else— someone else. It wasn’t any of your business, but the haunted look swirling about the solid blue in his eyes was your ghost as well. She might as well wrap her gloved hands around the column of your neck and squeeze the air from your lungs with the aftershocks she sent through you both. An appearance from an echo of another time, another place.

And the silence was the worst part of all.

It gnawed on the marrow of your bones and made a home in your chest. He barely acknowledged any attempt you made at a conversation. You wanted the sky to open up and swallow you whole; break every bone in your body and tear you so finely apart you were nothing more than stardust. Maybe you’d come back as a hurricane or an earthquake. Maybe you’d unleash your anguish and heartbreak in a fury of raging winds and seismic waves. You didn’t care what you’d leave behind in the wake of your destruction, everyone else be damned. What mattered was the aftermath. The peace beyond satisfaction as you wither into nothingness. But you weren’t a devastating storm, you were just devastating. And it hurt to feel so small with someone who made you feel so warm. Leon never talked about her much, but he confided in you enough for you to know whatever you guys were was in jeopardy if not already damaged beyond repair. His demeanor only solidified the fear.

Then he stood up and you watched his every movement right down to the way his shoulders rose and fell in rhythm with his breathing. He holstered his gun. You faced the knife blade down between your thighs and dug it into the wooden chair beneath you. He avoided eye contact. Your knuckles turned white from the sheer force of your anger-turned-suppressed-sadness. Did you even exist to him right now?

“Let’s get goin’.” His voice held firm, but you felt anything but. Standing up after him, you slide the knife back into its sheath wrapped against your thigh. You figure a small hum in response would suffice. Before walking out behind him, you glance back at the window that is wide open and clench your jaw. Then you swiftly turn away.

You suppose you should have realized Leon wasn’t serious about you two. All those flirty exchanges and nothing to show for them. You had thought this was just the usual talking stage, but perhaps he never planned for it to go past that. Of course, why would he? With a woman as beautiful as her it would be no competition. You follow him through a hallway in disarray with only a single room at the end of it. Chairs, tables, and other furnishing items were shoved up against the walls with no regard. Inside the small room was nothing special, but you looked around regardless. The fireplace was lit and wood burned and crackled within. There was a table with books and cups strewn across it with chairs around it. You stepped forward, placing your hand on the book that rests at the end of the table. Your eyes scanned over the pages and you barely noticed Leon attempting to press on.

“You could let me get a good look around before you rush me.” You narrowed your eyes at him, your voice dull of emotion. He seems a bit taken aback by it, but his expression melts away into something more his speed; neutral.

“We have more important things to do than read.” Leon holds your gaze and you roll your eyes only to abide by his pace in the end.

His hand reaches out for you. You look up at him from the ground, cautious and hesitant, but accept his help. You didn’t realize how badly you had been smacked into the stone wall until he examined you from behind.

“That’s gonna make a nasty ass bruise.” He scoffs, his demeanor different all of a sudden. You’re quiet, studying his face for a sign. Your lack of reaction causes him to stare back with something almost unreadable then his gaze drops to your lips and back up to your eyes. There’s something soft, but you’re so scared of his soft. Quickly looking away, you roll your shoulder back a few times and groan.

“They pack a punch in here… I hope Ashley is okay. I know they wouldn’t—“ You pause, inhale, then exhale, “Let’s just fine her.”

Leon keeps his eyes trained on you and you alone. He makes you feel naked under his stare; vulnerable and exposed. There’s a beat then he’s matching your steps down the path before you. It’s so painfully awkward, but you only have yourself to thank for that. It would’ve been easier to play the stupid, oblivious second choice as you assumed he’d want you to. But you didn’t want to. You wanted to be selfish in a job that forced you to be only selfless. You wanted him in every possible way and so painfully wholeheartedly it made you want to cry. So badly it felt too heavy on your chest and you struggled to breath against the weight of your wants. What did you have to do to be enough? The pain rushed through you in quick succession. You were thankful Leon was behind you or he’d see the way your lip quivered as you fought back tears the welling in your eyes.

Leon never promised a future together. He never even let you get your hopes too high. It always hurt knowing he wasn’t all in like you were, but you accepted it nonetheless. Now you feel foolish. You couldn’t convince someone to love you.

Ashley was elated to reunite with you both after Leon comforted her. You stayed back guarding the door, unable to look her in the eyes. She would know something wasn’t quite right with a glance. It was a talent you weren’t anticipating dealing with. Ever since you had both located and saved her, Ashley was keen on asking you questions about your relationship with Leon. You wouldn’t give clear cut answers, but the way your cheeks dusted pink and you tried to hide a smile, Ashley knew. She would be able to spot it a mile away. The older sister-younger sister dynamic came easily between you two as you were relatively close in age to begin with. It was sweet, but also terrifying how she could pinpoint your thoughts with accuracy. Maybe that was your downfall. You wore your heart on your sleeve and Leon kept every little thought and emotion locked up tightly. He wasn’t stoic by any means; capable of laughing, smiling, and joking. He was just…guarded. Way better at it than you were. If she couldn’t get answers from him she could get them from you. It was easy to tell yourself that talking about how you felt made it somewhat better, but then you’d have to admit what you avoided. You’d have to tell Ashley she was right all along. These were words you weren’t sure you could say.

There was a knock on the double door behind you. A signal that he and Ashley were finished talking. Once you had walked in, Ashley ran up and hugged you with all her might (which was surprisingly a lot). Her head easily rested against your shoulder due to you both being very similar heights. You, of course, embraced her back and the lump in your throat came back. Warm, comforting…it was what you needed most with your conflicting thoughts and emotions.

The moment was broken by Luis on Leon’s earpiece. You and Ashley slowly pulled away from each other as you watched. From what you both could hear it sounded as if Luis was in quite a predicament. You frowned, but there was a hint of amusement in your eyes at their interaction. The transmission is cut short and Leon’s face is contorted in annoyance.

“Can’t believe that guy.” He scoffs, doing one last sweep of the room for anything remotely useful before your journey continues.

“He’s in trouble. We can’t just leave him, right?” Ashley was not fully separated from you, concern glistening in her eyes. She was sweet, but Leon looked exasperated having to come to Luis’s aid. He was an interesting guy despite his past dealings and you couldn’t lie about feeling distrusting of him, but he made you laugh and it was hard to not like someone who did that. You join him in taking a quick look around before he pushes the door open to reveal a hedge maze below. You lean against the railing, pulling your rifle off your pack and situated in your hands. You peered through the scope. A lone Colmillo stalked a pathway across from your group.

“Fifteen?” You asked.

“This isn’t even a fair bet.” Leon huffed a small laugh, crossing his arms as he watched your target. You hummed, taking aim and watching for a moment to catch the creature off guard. The second he stood still your finger squeezed the trigger and a loud shot rang out across the maze. His body fell limp to the floor. You leaned back and Leon whistled, ruffling your hair. For just a minute you forgot why you were even upset and welcomed his gentle touch.

“Alright, write it down. I owe you fifteen bucks.” He playfully rolled his eyes at you. When his back turned, you watched him saunter off down the steps with his handgun ready. Ashley glanced at you.

“Did he do something?” Her voice was soft and gentle as if you were a cornered animal. You hardly realized the frown on your lips and the way your eyebrows creased together. His retreating form made you feel empty. Loneliness thrived.

“Let's not fall behind.” You smiled in her direction, but it never reached your eyes. Now it was Ashley’s turn to frown, but she complied.

Your knuckles turned pearly white as you gripped the golden bars of your cage. Your eyes were focused on the balcony above you where Ashley had been taken. Leon hurried to unlock a door, but was interrupted by another call on his ear piece.

“Ada?” His voice speaking her name caused your stomach to plummet far, far down— or at least that’s how it felt. Every nerve in your body trembled as you bow your head against the bars. The conversation seemed brief as not a minute later he was calling out her name frantically then sighed. You couldn’t even stand the thought of looking at him. It seems that’s all you have felt this last hour; unable to confront the one person you should be able to trust the most.

“C’mon— Hey, are you alright?” His hand barely grazed your shoulder before you whipped around and stared at him with wide eyes. He seemed stunned himself, holding his hand in the air, mouth agape. You couldn’t think, couldn’t move. The ache in your heart and the burning in your lungs. Your chest feels heavy and constricted and you could only watch as he lowered his hand and waited on your cue. But there wasn’t a cue. You wanted to scream at him, but you also wanted to run off alone and scream until your throat was raw and bloodied. Attracting the attention of the castle's inhabitant did not matter, but thinking rationally wasn’t on your agenda currently. You bit the inside of your cheek and inhaled a trembling breath.

“...I’m sorry. I just…” But you couldn’t finish your thought or rather your excuse as none came readily to mind. It should’ve been easy to blame the things you endured, but that wasn’t it. And even if you were to voice the real reason you would feel idiotic. Leon was in mission mode and didn’t need a lovesick girl making a scene while the President’s daughter was snatched from their hands.

“You haven’t been acting like yourself. One moment you’re talking to me like normal and the next you’re— You seem so angry.” Of course he would pick the worst time to wrangle the truth from you. His eyes were so sincere, but his features weren’t soft. There was determination dancing in his tone as he spoke.

“It’s just this whole mission.” You were quick to excuse yourself, but Leon followed.

“Is that really it?” He brushed his fingers on your elbow, but you refused to look back at him. You’d kill for one of those Zealots to interrupt this moment, but God wasn’t so kind.

“I knew it wasn’t going to be easy, but everything is so fucked up. I’m just not doing so well.” It absolutely murdered you to seem so weak and vulnerable to something you both had been groomed for, but it was easier to use that as an excuse than confess to being head over heels for your partner. Of course, it wasn’t like Leon hadn’t already blurred that line. He proved it in the way he stepped around you to stand face to face once more. You didn’t need to look up to know exactly how he was watching you. In fact, it was better you didn’t. One look into those mesmerizing blue eyes and your anger and sadness would waver. It was so easy to forget when he looked at you like that. Leon cautiously raised a hand and wrapped it very gently around your elbow, caressing the material of your black long sleeve. The fabric had already been snared by a close call with a Zealot and his crossbow. He could make out the vibrant blue and purple painting the soft skin of your arm. You were littered in battle wounds and deep bruises.

“We’ll handle this the same way we always have. Together.” He was soft spoken and reassuring. It only made you want to cry. How could he be so kind when breaking your heart?

“Yeah…yeah. Let’s go find Ashley.” You finally matched his gaze with a meek smile. He was hurting you and didn’t even notice. Leon was ever the oblivious type unless you made it apparent. He looked over you with confliction as if something was stuck in his throat and he didn’t know how to say it. His hand fell down your arm, fingertips bumping against yours as if he was attempting to muster up the courage to hold it. You could feel your heart rate speed up at his simple gesture. You quickly cover the lower half of your face with your hand and turn away from him.

“I said let’s go find Ashley!” You sped walked over to the room that opened up beside you guys earlier.

“As you wish.” He huffed a laugh and you could just hear the smile. He knew he had gotten to you.

The mineshaft was damp, musty, and smelled heavily of rockdust. You sat next to Leon as he flexed his arms, watching the limb very carefully for any protruding veins. Luis proudly leaned against a structure. You wished you could finally breathe a sigh of relief that the suppressant worked, but Leon was a ticking time bomb. Any moment the infection could regain control and the symptoms would resurface. How long did he have until then? What measures could you both take to hold it at bay? You were overthinking and thinking overall was bad, you knew that. If you thought for too long you would eventually break away piece by piece until nothing was left of you but brittle bones and teeth. Your heart was shattering for a man who would not give you his eternity.

So you did the next best thing: walk away from the problem— literally. Feigned the desire to strategize while he recovered and hid away between wooden crates and empty drums. It wasn’t home, but you could breathe. The ache in your chest and lungs subsided as you drew your knees to your chest and wrapped your weary arms around them. Held them as close as you wanted to hold him but he longed for the embrace of another; a woman dressed in red and confidence. An image of her face flashed through your exhaustion riddled mind and you simpered. You were a kettle ready to shriek from the pressure that built deep within. Only your shrieking would be a spectacle. It would be tables turning, glass shattering. You would not go with grace for that was admitting a defeat only you knew of. Was letting go even possible? Leon left a scar on you that would never fade and every fall you’d see him in the fog like a phantom of the past. He was inescapable. And you wanted to be selfish anyways, hold onto him like he’d dissolve into ash if you let go.

“You look…stressed.” A familiar voice startled you out of your thoughts. Eyes wide like a deer in headlights, staring up at Luis as he held your attention with his signature smirk. You scoffed, stretching your legs out while he took a seat beside you.

“That’s an understatement. All this Plagas bullshit is getting on my nerves.” You fibbed through pearly white teeth. The words felt bitter on your tongue and you were unable to hold his gaze.

“Is it really that?” He asked. You froze. Your expression remained neutral, but Luis could feel the confliction radiating off of you like body heat.

“Is that answer not good enough? I know I’m bad at lying, but have some sympathy.” Your words spilled from your lips with a tremble. Your voice cracked into a whisper as if you strained to maintain composure and perhaps that was precisely the struggle. A question. It was simple and you could have lied again. But you were weak and he was honest.

Luis sighed, smiling softly to himself while looking at the ground, “I’ve spent my whole life mastering that and you can’t fool a professional.”

Now you were fraying at the seams. Every emotion bloated in size and threatened to burst. Heavy was the weight you burdened yourself with. Droplets fell like pearls on the floor of the mineshaft, collecting dirt on its spherical surface until it popped and soaked in. You looked up for a brief moment wondering if the ceiling was leaking only to discover you had begun to cry. Ducking your head down again, you pulled the hem of your sleeve up your palm and used it to dab the tears streaming down your face.

“That was kind of corny.” You sputtered a laugh and sniffled.

“Corny? I think you’re just embarrassed and don’t want to admit it.” He was right, but you refrained from answering. Instead, you inhaled deep breaths as you patted down your damp cheeks.

“I guess you can know, but it’s a secret between us.” It was meant to come across as humorous, but you sounded pathetic, “It hurts. Ya’know, being in love with someone who belongs to someone else.”

Luis didn’t interrupt. He also didn’t belittle you for how you felt. He sat there, listening attentively, and occasionally nodding along so you knew he was still listening. It meant the world and more to you. Had Ashley been here you knew you’d have broken down the same way in front of her, but she was so far away and you were so fragile. Luis was a shoulder to cry on; something you needed for a long while.

“I don’t really know the specifics, but…maybe you’re not looking at it from the right angle.” Luis merely suggested and you could hear the struggle in his words as he chose what to say very carefully. It made you laugh again.

“Hey, we ready to go?” This time, Luis was startled as well, but he hid it quickly behind a cheshire grin. You looked up to see Leon a few feet away. In the dim lantern light, he appeared holy. If you were to believe in something, you’d believe in his divinity. Something godly walked among men and you weren’t the religious type, but you didn’t need to be. Shaking your head gently, you stumbled onto your feet. Leon watched you cautiously. You knew your eyes were red and puffy, but you merely walked past him to the path forward. It took awhile for you to realize they had fallen behind, but the further away you were from him, the more at ease you felt.

If looks could kill, yours would be lethal. In fact, you spent the entire boat ride avoiding absolutely any eye contact with Ada. It was awkward and Leon was tense. You expected him to make his move here, but that was more so your imagination. As soon as Ada had left and the boat stilled at shore, you leapt forward to grab his arm. You don’t know what came over you. It was almost on instinct you attached yourself to him. Leon looked down at you, eyes filled with bewilderment. The waves crashed against the rocks below you both, filling the silence with ambient sounds. When he fully turned to face you, you pushed yourself off him and heaved a shaky breath.

“Leon—”

“This is about Ada, isn’t it?” You paused, snapping your head up to meet his eyes. It was like he gave you permission to combust, word vomit everything you had been thinking and feeling the entire time.

“I don’t want to do this anymore.” It came out close to a whisper, but you tested the waters with it.

“Hey now—” But he was effectively cut off as you picked up a rock and threw it at the boat with all your might. Now he was just confused. This didn’t stop him taking a step back as you found more ammo to unleash on the one thing that did absolutely nothing to you. You pelted it with stone after stone, grunting at the force with which you launched them. It was the same cycle of scour and attack until you became noticeably feeble with your hurling.

“I hate—” The rock hit the very front and left a noticeable dent, “—her so much! I hate that you love her!”

Then you crumbled, meekly tossing the rocks now with no strength behind them. It was cathartic at first, but quickly became meaningless in the face of heartbreak. You were now a shell of your red-hot anger; a bright flame dwindling in the rain until the glowing embers were burnt out. For the first time since this feeling settled on your stomach, you sobbed inconsolably. You covered your mouth with your palms and leaned forward to curl into yourself and released a scream muffled against your skin. It hurt. Everything hurt and you wanted to puke so hard your intestines fell out of your mouth. You wanted to be gruesome and unsightly. You wanted to be swallowed whole by absolutely anything at this point. Unrequited love was too much to bear. Ashley was gone. Luis was dead. You had no one to lean on while you wept so hard you began to choke and gag. The arms that wrapped around your trembling form were so warm and, even if it was Leon’s, you were desperate for comfort.

“Please, please don’t pick her over me. I can’t live with that. You’re not allowed to break my heart like that. You’re supposed to fall for me.” Your hands came up to grip the material of his black shirt, “I want you, Leon. More than anything and if you pick her, then you pick wrong.”

Your conviction was solid. It had to be you and no one else because who better to understand exactly what he was going through than you? The world could end tomorrow, but all that would matter was that he wanted you more than he ever thought of her. You both could fail this mission, you could become parasitic with the rest of them, but you would know he loved you more. It was a simple choice. You or her and you hoped to god he would choose you any day in any lifetime.

Leon was silent, however. His grip never wavered, but he was in deep thought. Then he pulled back from you and you lifted your head. He leveled his gaze with you. There was something unreadable on his face. His touch was ever so gentle and you swore you would melt if he were any softer. One of his hands reached up to caress your cheek with calloused fingertips. You shuddered, leaning into his touch. As you closed your eyes, you pictured spring and flowers and his smile belonging to you. It was perfect and so were the lip brushing against yours as your eyes fluttered open. There was no time to react; you could only accept his lips pressing against your own in a gentle kiss. There were no sparks, no fireworks, only something akin to the gentle warmth of a fireplace. After what felt like eternity, he pulled away.

“It wasn’t like you gave me a choice anyhow. The moment I looked in your eyes for the very first time, I was fucked.” He chuckled, thumb brushing against your supple cheek as he leaned his forward against your own. You could hardly contain the tears of joy that flooded you now. It felt almost too good to be true, but sometimes that is just the way it goes.

“Good because I was prepared to give a whole speech about it.”

“Powerpoint, too?”

#lord i cried along with the reader #SOBBING UGLY CRYING WITH THEM

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lilyleely · 1 year

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Partners, Roommates, Best Friends

RE4!Leon x f!Reader

Summary: Yourself and your partner Leon have just returned back from a harrowing mission overseas in Spain. The both of you are severely affected by what you'd seen out there, both developing insomnia that only the other can seem to cure. You share a job, a home, a friendship, and now a bed.

Warnings: 18+ minors dni. Smut.

Words: 3.8k

Notes: This is pure filth tbh nothing much more to add lmao apart from I need help

You and Leon had been partners for the past two years. Partners, best friends, roommates. Everything you did, you did together. There were pros and cons to this of course, the pros being the two of you knew every little thing about each other, and the cons being that you knew every little thing about each other - hence knowing how to get on the other's last nerve. However frequently that may happen, tonight was not one of those nights.

It had been just short of two weeks since you’d both returned to the U.S, after being on an assignment in Spain. It had been the hardest thing you’d ever experienced in your career so far. You didn’t need to have a conversation with Leon to know he felt the same. The tired faint expression on his face, and once shining blue eyes now dark and glazed told you a story without having to ask. The two of you had barely spoken about it since getting back. It was kind of an unspoken rule between the two of you usually, to never really talk about work. You assumed this was a fairly normal thing, wanting to keep work at work. The only time you and Leon ever discussed anything related to your jobs was when you both needed to. Sometimes it was good to debrief, after all the information was strictly confidential but seeing as how you were partners, it didn’t prevent you from talking about it freely to each other. Just one of the perks of being partnered together you supposed.

This hadn’t happened this time though. Instead you’d both simply gone about your daily lives, but both much quieter and more subdued. You noticed Leon was much more clingy, he wanted to be close to you at all times. This wasn’t completely out of character, but the intensity flagged up with you almost immediately. It started on the first Monday night since you’d gotten back on the Friday. Curled up watching a movie and he’d suddenly come and shuffled up close to you, and gently placed his arm on the back of the sofa and asked if it was okay. As soon as you’d nodded, his arm was draped around you and pulling you tight to his chest.

That’s when it started, and then it turned into hand holding whilst eating dinner and buddying up to go to the laundry room. Which then progressed into naps together on the couch during the day time. You knew full well neither of you slept at night. This wasn’t typical friend behaviour, friends didn’t hold hands having dinner or cuddle on the couch but, it’s what you both needed.

The clock had just struck twelve am as you climbed into your cold sheets on a damp and drizzly Friday evening. Two weeks since your return, and every time the silence fell and you closed your eyes you were back there again. Spain.

You couldn’t escape it, it was like running from a never ending nightmare playing on a loop in your brain. You’d been staying up for as long as you could, hoping that when you finally settled into bed you’d be tired enough just to switch off and sleep. You were always too hopeful. And always wrong.

You tossed and turned for what felt like an eternity, any tiny disturbance making you jolt your eyes open and jump. Something hit the window with a crack that made you almost rise two inches off the bed. You shot up, your hand immediately outstretched reaching for the pistol you kept in your nightstand drawer.

Your fingers gripped around the cold, heavy metal until you saw the loose bit of tree branch hanging from the window awning. Your chest relaxed, and you cursed under your breath at your own stupidity.

Everything made you on edge nowadays, even though you knew you were safe at home. You couldn’t be any safer if you were completely honest with yourself, knowing that Leon slept a mere door across from you was a huge comfort. Slept is a loose term, you would bet money on the fact he wasn’t asleep at this moment in time. However, he did almost act like your personal guard dog, whether you were on the job or doing your grocery shopping together.

The rain grew heavier outside, the pattern on the windows normally added to a serene atmosphere, the ambient sound usually lulling you into a peaceful sleep. It wasn’t working its usual magic however, you feared nothing would.

Sighing, you flung the sheets off you, determined to swallow your pride and do what you should’ve done two weeks ago. You needed a good night's sleep, and the only time you could ever get some sleep lately was during the day, wrapped up with your roommate. It was pathetic really, you thought to yourself. You’d never been this affected after a mission before, and you’d seen some gruesome shit, but this past assignment had been something else entirely for the both of you. You’d witnessed Leon almost die a million times, and those memories flashed up every time you closed your eyes and then continued like a reel you couldn’t turn off in your nightmares. In your dreams you weren’t there to save him, you were simply a helpless onlooker. You just had to stand there and watch.

Wrapping your arms around your body in response to the chilly air, your bare feet pattered across the wood floor as you crept out of your dark room. You eased the door open gingerly, trying to prevent any loud creaking as you slipped through the gap and into the hallway. Leon’s bedroom was directly opposite yours, and you hesitated for a moment at the door, trying to listen for any soft snoring that indicated he may be asleep. The last thing you wanted to do was disturb him if he had by some miracle managed to drift off, he was a light sleeper and you knew the second you opened his door he’d be awake in a flash.

Listening for a moment, you were met with complete silence, so you decided to go ahead and gently twist his door handle. Leon’s room was in complete darkness, apart from a slither of moonlight that cast a stripe across the room from the tiny gap in his curtains.

You crept in as silently as you could, making sure to close the door behind you with a gentle click. You saw movement from the bed, a shadow sitting up and you heard Leon sigh from the mound of sheets.

“Hey, it’s only me.” You whispered. “Sorry if I scared you.”

Leon exhaled a deep breath from his nose, and sat up from his bed, leaning over he pulled the curtains back a tiny bit more, revealing more of the room under the moonlight. You could see him now, and you were very grateful it was still dark enough that he wouldn’t be able to tell you were blushing. He was sitting on his bed, shirtless and in pyjama shorts that hugged his hips in a way that made you want to stare. You’d seen Leon almost naked plenty of times and it never failed to cause a blush to creep up your cheeks.

“No, you didn’t don’t worry. I heard you get out of bed. You can’t sleep either?” Leon muttered, his voice low matching your whisper.

“No.” You responded, glumly.

He sat back properly in bed, and pulled the covers back, patting the mattress. Neither of you spoke, instead you simply obliged, silently accepting his offer by climbing under the sheets, the unoccupied side of the bed cold and crisp. Leon adjusted, shuffling himself so he was propped up on one arm and you lay on your back staring at the ceiling. Your shoulder was grazing his torso, and the warmth radiating from his body was exceedingly comforting. There was a lingering, but comfortable silence. Just being in one and other's company helped to relax the other.

“A tree branch scared me.” You suddenly said into the darkness.

“A tree branch?” Leon asked.

“Yes, it hit my window and I nearly had my gun out and everything. I’ve never felt so stupid Leon.” You huffed, and laughed humourlessly at yourself.

“I get it, I’ve been on edge too.”

“When d’you think it will stop?” You whispered, more seriously.

“I dunno, I really don’t know.”

Leon sighed, and brought his free arm over both your hands that were resting on your stomach. You froze a little at the contact, and Leon picked up on it immediately, because of course he did. He was so ridiculously in tune with your mannerisms and moods, he practically knew how you were feeling before you did. Leon immediately retracted his hand.

“Sorry, ‘there something wrong?” He asked, tentatively.

You took a sharp, shaky inhale of breath. Nothing was wrong with what he just did, and you weren’t sure why you’d tensed up like that. You and Leon were touchy most of the time, especially in the recent weeks, but it was in a friendly, overly comfortable way. Or so you’d convinced yourself. But there was something about lying next to him in his bed, bare skin almost daring to touch and feeling the heat radiating from his bare form that had everything feeling different. You suddenly felt as if you had nowhere to hide. You couldn’t play off a subtle touch as a friendly gesture. Everything felt all the more intense.

“No, no. It’s okay.” You reassured him, and you turned to face him, one hand tucked under your head as you met his gaze.

“I’m just tense, is all.” You smiled weakly, his piercing blue eyes never leaving yours.

“You won’t mind if I do this then?” Leon asked softly, as he rested a palm on your side and squeezed reassuringly. The contact felt comforting but was stirring up something else inside you you weren’t ready to address quite yet.

“I can’t stop the nightmares.” Leon said, suddenly. His confession shocked you slightly, he wasn’t one to share much, even to you. He’s gotten more generous over the years when it came to giving you an insight into his psyche, but it was still a rare occurrence that shocked you whenever it happened.

“You too?”

“Yeah,” Leon chuckled dryly, devoid of any humour. “You wanna talk about it?”

You sighed for a moment, and were very aware of how he’d begun tracing small circles on your thigh with his calloused thumb. You hesitated for a minute, before saying,

“I see you die every single time I fall asleep.”

Leon didn’t respond for a second, he was clearly processing what you’d just said but didn’t seem to be phased by your confession. His thumb was still tracing small circles.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, sincerely.

“I’m just terrified I’m going to lose you Leon.” You breathed, through a well of tears forming. What you didn’t know, was Leon had the exact same nightmares, except it was you he couldn’t save. The words broke Leon’s heart, and the hand resting on your thigh soon applied some pressure, pulling you in closer to him so your bodies were flush.

“I’m not going anywhere sweetheart, I promise.” Leon soothed, and kissed the top of your head firmly whilst you found yourself sobbing into his chest.

“I can’t stand the thought Leon, it scares me so much.” You sobbed quietly against his skin, and all he could do was whisper small “I know,”’s and “it’s okay I’m not going anywhere,” as he stroked your hair.

He gripped you tight, and it took you a moment to gain your composure before you were gazing up through teary eyes at the man next to you.

“What about you? What do you dream about?” You asked, your voice hoarse. Leon paused for a moment, contemplating your question and how to phrase the answer.

“You. The same situation but in reverse. I’m not fast enough or I’m not close enough or I’m not good enough, and I lose you.” Leon answered honestly, and your eyes softened but your brows knitted upwards in an expression of guilt and sadness.

“Oh, Leon…” was all you could muster as you stared at him. “I’m not going anywhere either.” You gave his arm a gentle squeeze, and that was how it started. Before you knew it, Leon was leaning towards you and placing his lips on yours. He kissed you gently, his lips feather light on your own as he cupped your jaw to tilt your head up to him ever so slightly. It was like something clicked. You knew you’d always felt something for Leon, but you’d always feared taking it that step further, fearing it would ruin what you had or that it just wouldn’t feel right. But this, this felt right. It felt natural, normal.

You took initiative, deepening the kiss by propping yourself up on one elbow and pinning his chest flat to the bed with your other hand. Leon responded almost immediately, his hands finding your hips and tracing lines up your back as you hooked a leg over his waist. You were lost in the moment, the taste of him completely addictive as you entangled a hand in his hair, earning a low groan from him that caused heat to pool between your legs. Your hips began to move involuntarily, grinding gently against him that caused you both to shudder.

Leon held his hands against your shoulders for a moment, breaking away from the kiss and he pushed your hair out of your face.

“You’re so beautiful.” He breathed, his pupils blown out in lust and his lips pink and wet. It was a gorgeous sight. You didn’t have the chance to respond before he was pulling you back into the kiss, but this time, he angled you in such a way that meant he could flip you on your back. He towered over you, his hair brushing against your face as he peppered doting kisses along your jaw.

You sighed, suppressing a moan as he worked his way down your body. He reached your breasts, and he looked up at you through hooded eyes.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Leon asked, his gaze never leaving yours. You nodded, and Leon wasted no time continuing. He lifted your his old shirt with ease, taking one of your breasts in his mouth and sucking gently. Your hand shot into his hair, intertwining your fingers in the strands and giving them a gentle pull to encourage him to be a little rougher. He got the hint, his other hand massaging your other breast applying a pleasurable amount of pressure whilst his mouth and tongue got to work sucking and biting your nipple. You desperately wanted to touch him, but your hands had no chance of reaching where he needed you in the position you were in. You reached between the two of you anyway, your fingertips just about reaching the tip of his waistband, indicating what you were desperate to do. Leon pulled his mouth away, causing you to mewl slightly at the lack of contact. He moved your hand away and gently placed it back at your side, not taking his hand away yet like he didn’t trust you not to move.

“I’m nowhere near done with you yet.” Leon spoke in a rough, low voice that sent your head spinning.

He continued down your body, placing kisses along your stomach before settling himself on his front and parting your legs. The way his breath felt against your clothed pussy made your skin flush hot. Leon hooked his arms around your thighs so they sat on his shoulders, and began placing more doting kisses along the inside of the soft flesh.

You tried your best not to squirm as he fingered the line of your panties, pulling the now soaked fabric to the side to allow him access. He groaned slightly at the sight of you glistening wet for him.

“Fuck baby.” He hissed under his breath, before placing a sloppy kiss on your clit making you gasp as shockwaves of pleasure rippled through your stomach. He placed another kiss on your clit, harsher this time causing your legs to clamp together. Before you knew it, Leon was back up on his knees and pulling your underwear fully off now, seemingly growing impatient with the fabric.

All bets were off the table now. Leon returned to his position on his stomach and threw your legs back over his shoulders, burying his face between your thighs and getting to work with his tongue. Your senses were completely overloaded, all you could think about was Leon, and a string of his name rolled off your tongue in throaty whispers as he sucked and licked in all the right places. Your hand shot to his hair once again, combing your fingers through the strands to massage his scalp. It was a desperate plea for him not to stop. You pulled on the strands which made him groan again, the vibrations reverberating against you which intensified everything he was doing with his tongue. You gasped, sitting up slightly and opening your eyes to see his stare fixed completely on you, drinking in your responsiveness. He was determined to please you, desperate to know exactly what you liked.

He pulled away for a second, his thumb immediately going to rub small circles on your clit as a substitute for his mouth. His blue eyes darted from you and back to your centre, before he sunk a digit inside you causing your jaw to fall slack.

“Oh my god.“ you breathed, your head falling automatically back onto the mattress, and you heard Leon chuckle lowly.

“You good, sweetheart?” He said, lowly.

You just about managed a nod, your eyes still closed and mouth slightly agape as the coil in your stomach began to wind tighter with every touch.

“Use your words baby.”

“Yes, yeah-“ You breathed quickly, eyes shooting open, fearing he might stop. Leon chuckled softly, before his mouth was back on your clit and he added a second finger that caused your back to arch involuntarily off the bed.

Leon curled his fingers upwards, hitting that spot inside you that caused you to lose all sense of self.

“Fuck Leon, right there oh my god.” You moaned, and you only got louder as his fingers got faster, working you with expertise you weren’t used to. You were so close, the feeling in your stomach building and building until it finally snapped. A string of cries escaped your lips as you finished, Leon’s hand pressed down on your stomach to keep you still as he continued to finger you through it.

You were still coming to your senses before you even realised Leon was now kneeling in front of you, lining himself up with your entrance and pumping himself a few times as he teased you. Your head shot up from the mattress when you realised what he was doing, and you immediately whined, reaching down between the two of you to impatiently guide him to sink into you.

“Eager much?” Leon smiled, his voice low and rough and it continued to make you dizzy.

“Please.” You begged with doe eyes up at him, but he just laughed softly and took both your hands in his, proceeding to pin them above your head with one hand whilst the other stroked his cock again.

“Stay like this for me, sweetheart.” He breathed against you, before pushing into you painfully slow. He stayed still for a moment, and you both moaned as he bottomed out inside you.

“Please start moving.” You whined.

“Since you asked so nicely…” Leon breathed, his right arm still pinning both your wrists above your head and just like that, he was snapping his hips into yours at a rate that was fatal. The sound of your wetness and his hips slapping into you filled the room. The gasps and moans that left your mouth as your jaw fell slack once again were obscene, you were propping your head up slightly, watching as he pounded into you and it made your head swim.

“Dirty girl, like to watch, do you?” Leon whispered through panting breaths as he continued to fuck you senseless. All you could do was pathetically nod, as your eyes rolled back and you let the pleasure overtake you. The familiar tightness was building again, you instinctively snaked your hand between the two of you and began circling your clit. Leon made a noise not dissimilar to a growl, as you clenched around him at the additional pleasure of your clit being stimulated.

“Fuck.” He groaned. “Look at you, going all dumb on my cock.” Leon brought his other hand up and rested it around your throat, squeezing gently and this almost pushed you over the edge. You fluttered again around his cock, earning a low moan from his lips.

“You like my hand around your throat like this, baby?” He got the hint, you fucking loved it. He squeezed slightly harder on your neck as his pace increased, fucking you deeper than you even thought possible as the head of his cock kissed your sweet spot with every thrust.

You were a mess, writhing beneath him, eyes rolled into the back of your head and babbling nonsense as your climax grew nearer. Leon was close too, his thrusts becoming more stuttered and inconsistent. Your noises got even louder as you gripped onto the arm that held your throat, the pleasure now becoming overwhelming and the band in your stomach snapped again. Another string of cries, mixed with a mantra of Leon’s name left your mouth as you came, the spasming and squeezing around him triggering his own orgasm.

He emptied himself into you, groaning your name and panting into your ear as he slowly fucked you through your orgasm as well as his own. After a moment, he slowed almost to a complete stop before sliding out of you and laying on his back. The two of you lay there, getting your breath back and coming down from your highs.

“Why the fuck haven’t we been doing that this whole time?” You said after a few moments. Leon laughed, his broad chest rising up and down as he did and you still couldn’t help but stare as a sheen of sweat glistened on his skin.

“I don’t know, maybe because we’re both idiots?” He grinned, resting his hand on his stomach whilst tucking the other one behind his head. “I’m sorry if I was a little rough back there.”

You frowned, turning to face him now.

“Not at all. It was fun.” You reassured him, taking in his beautiful face as he still remained laying on his back, glancing up at the ceiling.

After a moment, he broke the silence. “Not gonna lie, I didn’t strike you as the type to get off on choking.”

Your mouth opened in shock and you slapped his arm playfully, and Leon just started chuckling and turned on his side to snuggle into you, his laughter was infectious and you couldn’t help but join in.

“You tired?” He said, lowly.

“Not really.”

“Good, ‘cause I’m not done with you yet.”

#HIS LAST LINE #OMMO

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lilyleely · 1 year

Text

₊˚✧ phone lights up my nightstand in the black

bestfriend!leon kennedy x fem!reader smut

warnings: 1.6k words, use of y/n, curse words, iphone user (sorry android users), COP LEON!!, phone/facetime sex, masturbation (f + m), kinda cnc idrk, itsy bitsy tiny sadism (m),

masterlists , based on this pic (i wanna eat his collar bones)

The sound of Leon's phone ringing unpleasantly woke him up. The default iPhone ringtone makes him groan. He hesitantly lifted his head from his pillow, scanning the nightstand for his ringing phone. Once his eyes saw the phone and the contact name, Leon accepted the Facetime, only slightly annoyed now.

"Y/N, it is one in the morning and I have work in a few hours. This better be good." He sighed. He took note of your camera being off even though you explicitly chose to Facetime him. "I can't sleep." Your voice was breathy and a little hoarse. "Can you talk to me until I fall asleep?"

Leon would be lying if it didn't make his heart flutter at the fact that you called him of all people to help you. He sighed before setting his phone on the nightstand, leaning it against a half-empty bottle of beer, his body turning to lay on his side rather than his previous position on his back.

"What do you want me to talk about?" He left his camera on, too lazy to make an effort to turn it off. His broad chest and arms on display, the blanket falling comfortably on his torso. "Anything." Your voice was even breathier than before, it concerned him a little, wondering if you were crying before you had called him, your camera being off not helping your case.

"I can tell you about what I did at work today." You thought it was cute how he would sacrifice his very deeply important sleep to help you even when he had to be at work in just a few hours. "Okay." He could hear the smile you had on your face even though he couldn't see you. "Well, I woke up and then I had to go straight to work because I overslept. I had to drink the shitty RPD coffee." He laughed softly as you hummed along.

"I don't know what they put in it to make it taste like it came from the depths of hell." He laughed again and was relieved when he heard your laugh emit from his phone. "It was pretty slow today, just had to look over some paperwork with Chris." You hummed again, letting him know you were still listening. "Like I said, pretty slow today. I don't wanna bore you."

"Keep going, you're not boring me." Leon looked at the phone, staring a pink letter where your pretty face should be. "Keep going? Well, if you insist." He jokes but you don't find it very humorous, desperate for him to keep talking. "I thought about calling you 'cause I was so bored. I was just sitting at my desk all day." He admitted, a little shy to share this with you. "Why didn't you?" Your voice coming out whinier than you would have liked.

Leon raised an eyebrow slightly. "I figured you were busy. Next time I will." He smiled, glancing at the clock that read 1:27. When he got no response from you he assumed you had fallen asleep. He wondered if he should hang up or if he should just leave the call going while he slept in case you needed him again. Neither choice mattered though once he heard the noise that came through the phone that you accidentally let slip.

"Did you just... Did you just moan?" He stared at his phone in disbelief, convinced his mind was playing tricks on him, but it all started to make sense. The turned-off camera, the breathy and hoarse voice, the small whine that came with your words only moments before. He could hear your heavy breaths as silence overtook the both of you. "Y/N?" The way he says your name almost makes you moan again. "M'sorry."

Leon stared at the pink letter, shock written on his face. "Sorry for what?" He asks hesitantly, wanting clarity on what you were apologizing for even though he had a pretty good idea of exactly what you're apologizing for. You stay silent again, unsure of what to say. "Y/N?" He says again and you have to bite your lip to stop yourself from saying something you'll regret. "Are you doing what I think you're doing?" He asks, feeling a bit bold.

"What do you think I'm doing?" He could hear the dismay in your voice and he couldn't help but laugh. "I think.. you're touching yourself." He spoke slowly, afraid of what you would think if he had gotten it wrong. You go quiet again from embarrassment, and god, getting caught is really turning you on. "Sorry." You mumble, hoping he won't hang up and never speak to you again.

"Why don't you, uh.. show me?" You can see the nervousness on his face when he asks the question and you would be lying if he didn't look cute. You don't say anything as you hesitantly turn your camera on, his eyes instantly being blessed with the slight of your hand shoved down your pretty panties.

He remembers when you bought them, texting him a picture and asking what he thought. Getting a boner in the middle of work and he couldn't even think of what to say to you without sounding desperate, opting for a simple "they're nice" with a thumbs up emoji. And once again, he doesn't know what to say while looking at the same pair of underwear.

"Oh, fuck." He glances at the clock again, 1:31 AM. He could feel himself getting harder under the meticulously placed blanket. He could see the outline of your fingers through your underwear as you rubbed slow circles on your clit. He looked at the screen intently, neither one of you saying anything. "Do you want me to take them off?" Leon's breath hitched in his throat and he could've sworn he just saw the gates of heaven for a second.

"Yeah, please do." You complied quickly, setting the phone down for a moment, letting a black screen overtake your camera before picking the phone back up, giving Leon a much better view than before. He can feel his cock twitch as he looks at the way your legs are spread, giving him the perfect view of your soaked pussy. "You're killing me, Y/N." He sighs as he tries to readjust his pajama pants.

You continue to stay quiet as you brush your fingers over your puffy clit then dip them down your slit and tease your enterance. "Come on, pretty girl. Show me what you were doing while I was talking before." Your fingers pressed harshly into your clit as you bucked your hips at the nickname, making you moan at the sudden feeling. Leon closes his eyes and takes a deep breath before returning his eyes to the screen, the tent in his pants getting harder and harder to ignore.

He watches as you begin to finger yourself and you no longer care about being quiet, moaning softly as you fuck yourself with your fingers. Leon never found interest in watching porn, thinking there was no real point to watching someone so intimately but that mindset quickly dissipates as he looks at you, giving him such a show.

He knows he shouldn't but he can't help but think what it would be like to pound his cock into your pretty pussy, the mere thought turning him on even more, if even possible. He grabbed the phone from the nightstand, flipping onto his back as he shoved a hand down his pants. He winced as he brushed his hand against his hardened cock, quickly wrapping his hand around it and slowly pumping it.

"Are you touching yourself?" Your sweet voice echoed through the phone. "Yeah, I am." Leon sighed, his eyes still stuck on the screen. "Am I turning you on?" If it weren't for the slick noises that could be heard from the phone or the sight that you're graciously letting see or the sentence you had chosen to say, you sounded just like an angel to Leon. "Yeah," He laughed softly. "You are." He gently groans as he squeezes the tip of his dick, letting precum drip out for lube, some getting on the warm pajama pants.

"Can you show me?" His eyes widen in shock for a second before he places the phone on the bed, camera positioned at the ceiling as he shuffles his pants to his ankles. He quickly picks the phone back up, now angling the camera so you could see his twitching cock. "Woah." It was barely above a whisper but Leon still heard it, pride swelling in his chest.

"Wish you were here right now. Want you to fuck me so bad." You whine. Leon sucks in a sharp breath, your words shooting straight to his sensitive cock. "Me too, baby." You both continue to touch yourselves, watching the other as you do. Moans transfering through the phones’ microphones.

"I'm really close." He admits a little embarrassed he couldn't last long, but the sight of you was just too pleasurable for him. "Me too, Leon." Hearing you say his name makes his cock twitch in his hand, pushing him over the edge, and painting his abdomen with cum. Your orgasm shortly following Leon's.

"Holy fuck." He curses under his breath as he watches you fuck yourself through your orgasm, your legs trembling and fighting to stay open. "Look at you." He says softly as you pull your fingers away from your cunt, letting him have a complete view. "Need more, come over." He can feel himself getting hard again and he glances at the clock once again, 1:44. "Be there in twenty." "Make it fifteen." He was going to be so tired at work later.

‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏��‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎┊ㅤㅤ 🌾 ㅤㅤ ﾟㅤㅤ ┊

#OHOHOHOHOHOHO #KINKY

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lilyleely · 1 year

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is this not exactly what happened

#i love 911 #not the lonestar one tho we do not look at that

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lilyleely · 1 year

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⇁a snake in this garden | leon kennedy.

resident evil 4 remake leon s. kennedy x gn!reader angst

in which you find a picture of the woman he can't let go of.

content contains: angst, unrequited(?) love, hurt/no comfort, no use of y/n

937 words

song rec: "just like chet" by laufey

my first work here! this is short, as i am just trying to get a feel for how things work on here :] enjoy below the cut!

You've never once doubted Leon's love for you. You met him when he enrolled in STRATCOM after the Raccoon City incident, and you've been inseparable ever since. After so many nights staying up late over a cup of coffee together, you eventually confessed your feelings to each other after almost eight years of friendship

But things have changed.

Every since the blonde man came back from his mission in Spain, he's been different—Leon's been more distant, staying at work till the late hours of night, and he's even opted to sleep on the couch instead of with you. The bed has been void of his warmth for a few weeks now, and you've missed his touch every second he's away.

One night, Leon comes home earlier than usual. While you laze on the couch of your shared apartment's living room, you're reading a worn-out copy of Dracula, not expecting your dear boyfriend's arrival until later in the night. You look up from the yellowed pages of your paperback novel, eyes wide as you lay your sights on the agent's tired figure. He's slipping off his shoes and lazily unbuttoning his dress shirt, mumbling jumbled words beneath his breath that you can't catch.

"Leon?" You call, your head peeping above the couch. He looks up from his shoes, his ocean-hued gaze locking onto you. A faint smile paints his face.

"Hey, hon," he whispers. Your eyes soften at the sight of him. Leon looks exhausted, his eyebags worse than usual. You're heart ached as you took in his figure. After dating him for almost a year and knowing him for nearly a decade, you knew when he was sick of the world. Leon walks towards your spot on the couch sluggishly, flopping into you to lay his head on your lap. "Missed you..." he whispered, voice muffled into your thigh. You pet the top of his head, threading your fingers through his mildly greasy hair.

"M'right here, Lee," you hush him softly. You missed this—being with him, feeling him, seeing him. Silence filled the living room as you two sat comfortably.

Suddenly, the ex-cop gets up, tugging at your wrist as a silent suggestion for you to follow. You move without thinking, trailing his heels as you two walked to your shared room.

It looked like any other portion of the little apartment—minimalistic, but homey. This was your garden of Eden. The peace from the storm that was STRATCOM. You sit with Leon on the edge of the bed, the ivory sheets creasing beneath your shared weight. Your lover sighs, laying on his back as he relaxes into the mattress. Your hand feathers against his chest as his eyes flutter close, and you figure he's going to pass out in only a few minutes.

As your fingers fiddle with the buttons of his shirt, Leon's breathing steadies. As the seconds tick by, he falls further into sleep, and you can't help but smile at the domestic sight. Ever since his mission to save Ashley Graham, Leon has never looked so at-peace. The visual made your heart melt as a warm smile etched across you face.

"Goodnight, Lee," you murmured quietly, pulling your hand away from his resting figure. You gently get off the bed, body adjusting to the cold hardwood beneath you. You tiptoe out of the bedroom, shutting the door behind you with a little click! before venturing back to the living room. You get back in your seat on the couch, but a little white paper catches your eye.

On the floor is what seems to be a polaroid. It's small, only the size of your palm. You pick it up when you sit down, flipping it around to check its contents.

A woman in red, smiling coyly at the camera.

There's a note written in thin, black sharpie at the bottom. "A gift for you," it says in neat penmanship. Your heart squeezes. You realize that there's a snake in your garden.

You know who this is. Ada Wong, the woman that captured Leon's heart almost a decade ago. You remember your lover saying that she was nothing, that it was just a moment of loneliness in a dark time.

It's clear that wasn't true.

You never considered yourself a strong person. Your duty as an agent was to give intel to your partner, whoever it was on the mission. Much like Hunnigan, you stayed in your office, talking to your mission partner over a communication line, and give them orders depending on the task at hand. It wasn't physically taxing, seeing how you had no military experience.

Ada had everything. She's intelligent and she can fight without breaking a sweat. It's no secret that she's beautiful, too.

"Is this what Leon wants?" You whisper, tears swelling in your eyes as you the picture between your fingers shook. Your lips quivered as your eyes traced the outline of Ada's body. Hourglass, toned, and so very alluring.

Any man in their right mind would want a piece of her, you think to yourself.

You're unsure of what to do with the picture. Do you throw it out, do you hide it, or do you give it back to Leon without question? You decide it best to leave it on the floor, just like you found it.

You get up from your spot on the couch, straightening up your casual attire before walking to the front door. The polaroid is on the floor, and your coat is in your hands.

A walk wouldn't hurt, you tell yourself, ignoring the ache in your heart. Keeping secrets won't hurt either, you lie to yourself.

no hate to ada tho she bad af.

#OH #I FELT THIS ALL THE WAY TO MY TOES #OH READER PLEASE #LEAN YOU BETTER COME FIX THIS

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lilyleely · 1 year

Text

KEEPING PROMISES

pairing: leon kennedy x gn!reader

summary: After four months of captivity, Leon comes to your rescue. You soon find that the worst part of trauma is the aftermath—something he knows a thing or two about.

words: 4.5k

warnings: kidnapping, mentions of torture, heavy PTSD, hurt/comfort

notes: got a light-hearted request and absolutely butchered it bc i wanted to explore the effects of what being taken for experimentation might actually look like.

The room they throw you into is comprised of four-walled metal. A hospital gurney shoved into a corner. A chair with leather straps buckled to each arm and leg, crusted over with aged brown puddling—the morbid centerpiece.

The last twenty-four hours have been a blur. A blink of darkness. A flashbang through time. You suspect you have a concussion, and the blood congealing your hair at its crown all but solidifies the idea. A shitty predicament to be in. All the videos and articles and word of mouth said the same thing: no second location. Die if you have to. Don’t let a kidnapper drive away with you inside the car.

What about four of them? What could you have done, truly?

You try to remember. Memories are the only thing you can control now. You remember friends and family, your pets, your shitty job. But still, the last twenty-four hours draw one big blank, except for the car ride. The music. Four deep voices, muffled by the trunk. No safety release—an older model. They thought it through.

They plan to torture you. That much is clear. That much sends you to wracking shivers that chatter your teeth, that rattle the brain inside your throbbing skull.

Nobody will find you here. Wherever here is. A warehouse, you believe.

No. Scratch that. Someone will find you, maybe years down the line, when the rats have gnawed on your corpse until nothing but brittle bone remains.

The door swings open, spilling light into the room, showcasing the well-used chair. A masked man steps inside, dressed all in black, kitted out in tactical gear, and you tense. He doesn’t deserve a reaction. To see you shiver and shake. You’re terrified—a fact he’s better off not knowing.

“Drugs wore off, I’m guessing.” His boots thunder against the floor as he strolls over to you, knife poised in his right hand. “If you promise to be good, I’ll untie you. Our intentions aren’t to make you suffer.”

Whatever he wants. Whatever he wants if it means letting you leave this place alive.

You nod your head in agreement, and he lifts a gloved hand to your mouth. Frees you from the cloth gag.

“I’m sure you have questions. Unfortunately, I can’t give you any answers. Not right now.” He tugs you forward by the collar of your shirt, far enough to reach the arms tied behind your back. “You’ll see soon enough, though.” A quick slice through fabric, and your shoulders ache as they relax to neutral position, a sharp burn that lances down to your fingers.

You say nothing in response. Just cross your arms at your chest and hope that he’ll leave you. That he’ll bypass the chair and lock you in here again, all alone.

No identifying features. Every bit of skin, covered in black material. Even his accent sounds fake.

“You’re docile,” he says, darkened eyes squinting from behind his mask. “That’s good.”

You aren’t sure what his praise entails. Just want to go home, to sleep in your own bed, to not be so scared anymore.

“Someone’ll be here shortly to collect you. Play nice.”

As if you would risk any other course of action.

He closes the door, a set of keys jangle inside the lock, and his footsteps thud away. You’re left to darkness yet again.

An unbearably long time later. They lead you somewhere, a man at each arm, tugging you along. A place encased in shadow, cold and damp. Still inside the maze with the uninviting metal walls. The grating bites at your bare feet. A scream echoes up from below, curdles the blood inside your veins.

“Don't worry about that. Our patients can be dramatic sometimes.”

You worry. Worry even more after that.

Patients. Patients mean doctors. Doctors mean facilities. Facilities mean testing. Experiments.

Or they’re lying. Seeking to chip away your armor—any easy feat regardless.

You’re unsure of the day, the week, the month. Let alone the time. You’ve lived in total darkness for who knows how long. You sleep, you wake, they bring you food, they draw blood. They’re nice enough to let you shower, to provide you the decency of relief inside an actual bathroom.

Unfortunately, the whole taking you against your will thing ruins any hospitality they care to give you.

“Today’s the big day,” says one of the men, eyes squinting with a smile beneath his mask. “Are you excited?”

Excited is the last word you would use. Maybe terrified. Maybe resigned. Maybe exhausted.

You’re our last hope, they had said. After you, there’s nothing.

And you see why now. Bodies line the hallway, stretched out inside green canvas bags. They remain still within, unbreathing. You’ve witnessed death. The after.

That will soon be you, no doubt.

They planned for this. The malnutrition, the poor accommodations, the sleep deprivation, the psychological warfare. Wear you down, stretch you thin, keep you pliant.

You’re docile. That’s good.

But they haven’t hit you—yet. Small victories.

They lead you into a laboratory of sorts. Empty rows of beakers, jars filled with pickled body parts, a program pasted onto a computer screen. An operating table.

You dig your heels into the floor, dead your weight as flight rips through you. They hold steadfast, unmoving while you thrash around in a pitiful display of strength.

There’s nothing left. They laugh when you slump. Laugh even harder when you begin to cry.

Within the hour, you will be nothing but a body bag. They’ll make you disappear—burn you up, dissolve you in acid, throw you into a pit where you’ll find companionship with the dirt.

You have no fight left. Strapping you to the table is easy. Cutting away your shirt is easy.

However, the surprise of far-off gunshots provides an unexpected difficulty.

The men bristle to attention, speak to each other in coded phrases before they disperse out into the hallway.

You’re left alone, left to endure the shouting and the shooting, left vulnerable and scared.

You shift your body to the side, and the gurney rocks—just a small vibration, a small jolt of the wheels, but you can work with this. They failed to secure your feet, simply looped the straps through.

Okay. Think, quick. Need a plan.

You glance around. Surgery tools on the counter. Gotta have something sharp in there to cut these straps.

The gunshots start up again, echo closer, and you throw your lower body off the side of the gurney. Surprisingly lightweight when you roll it over to the counter and kick off the bag of instruments. Easy to knock on its side, but you didn’t think about the sharp clatter that sends thundering footsteps your way, shouting voices.

You take the bag between your teeth, then a trembling hand busies with its contents. Just enough give from the bindings to move your wrist, and it’s all you need. You pull out forceps, clamps, sutures, scissors—

Scalpel.

Your heart almost stops when a bullet sprays through the door. Your brain shuts off. Act. Survive. Get the fuck out of these straps.

One hand freed. You see the blood but feel no pain. Get out. Just get out.

Someone bursts into the room. You shield yourself, huddled behind the gurney. Grip the scalpel tight in hand. Both of your hands, now freed.

Your odds of winning against a gun: negative zero. Your odds of trying anyway: one hundred percent.

Footsteps thump throughout the room, cautious in speed. You curl further in on yourself, your hands shake, you hold the breath inside your lungs.

They grow closer. You have two options: fight or die. Running will get you nowhere with bullets involved.

“Are you alright?” asks a deep voice, quiet. A lie. A fucking lie.

When a hand touches your shoulder, you spin around and stab the scalpel into flesh—your target cries out, hisses out a string of curses.

You sprint for the door, only to realize it’s locked. It’s locked. You turn to locate the other door, only to find the man standing between you and escape.

You’ll break it down if you have to.

“Fucking—hey. Hey!” Much like a cornered dog, your hackles raise as he approaches, blood draining from the laceration on his arm in thick tracks of red, like a raindrop window.

You miss the rain. You miss the sun. You miss your home, and your bed. Good food, a bubble bath. You miss living.

“I’m not here to hurt you,” he says, arms outstretched in an offering of peace.

“Sorry, but I’ve heard that one before.”

You search for a weapon, a defensive item, a distraction. The beakers on the shelf. Just a few steps to your left.

“Okay, can we not throw things? That hurts, you know.”

“That’s the point, dumbass.”

“Jesus Christ—“ he ducks under your throw, levels a tired glare your way. “It’s a bad idea to hurt the only person trying to help you.”

You attempt another. A pathetic toss that he easily sidesteps.

The adrenaline runs dry. Your knees buckle. Shattered glass coats the floor.

“Are you done?”

You nod. “You can kill me now.”

“I already told you, that’s not why I’m here.” You slump against the wall, and he approaches, blood-splattered and battle-ready. Kneels before your pitiful form. “Let me see.”

He holds out a hand, nods to your bleeding wrist. What do you have to lose? You’re exhausted. Couldn’t fight him if you tried.

“I’m guessing the scalpel did this,” he says, gives you a soft smile that settles balmy inside your chest. Strangely genuine. You aren’t used to that.

“Yeah. I think I should stay away from sharp things.”

“I agree.”

As he wraps a layer of gauze around the injury, you ask, “What… what month is it?”

He glances up at you. “March.”

March. Four months. You missed your best friend’s birthday. Your cousin’s had her baby by now.

Four months gone. Wasted away, spent damned in that awful metal room.

“Hey.” He rests a hand on your shoulder, lightly squeezes to reorient your reality. “Life goes on, but you still have plenty of time to catch up.”

You aren’t sure how he knows. Maybe he does this often. Saves innocent people from big bads. Regardless, his words comfort you a little. Help the thought of after seem less scary.

After you leave this place. Adjustment seems impossible. Going back to work, paying bills, grocery shopping, cleaning house. All so mundane in comparison. Useless. What’s the point in doing all that shit?

He helps you to your feet. Says, “I’m getting you out of here.”

You believe him.

When he brings you to the extraction site, calls for evac, tells you everything’s okay now—you believe him.

He visits you in the hospital during a two week stint of quarantine. Day four of fourteen. March twenty-third. Says so on the calendar.

Funny. How time changes, your perception of it. You were shoved into that trunk last year. Last. Year.

His presence helps.

“You clean up well,” he says, taking a seat in the chair at your desk. Temporary lodging, barebones, stark white everything.

At leaks it looks like a bedroom. And nice people visit. To take your vitals, and draw blood, and ask you questions (a lot of questions). They give you medication.

“I don’t think you’re allowed to be back here.”

He presents his wrist, the hospital band wrapped around it, and the orange sticker signifying that he is, in fact, allowed to be back here. “My room’s down the hall.”

“So we’re neighbors, then.”

“I guess so.”

You fold down the corner of your page then close the book: a sappy romance novel given to you by one of the nurses on the floor. “How’s your arm, by the way?”

“It’ll be fine. Luckily, you have shitty aim.”

“I never apologized for that, did I?”

He gives a calming shrug. “I don’t need one.”

“Oh. Can I ask why?”

“You were scared, and you weren’t thinking straight. I get it.”

“If I’m being honest, I still don’t think I’m exactly… normal.”

“It’ll take a while.”

“I guess you understand that, too?”

“More than you know.”

In a melancholic way, that comforts you. He’s been where you are now, at least somewhat, and he seems to be doing well. Better than most would, at least.

“Can I ask you something?”

“That depends.”

“I just…” you exhale a sigh, “Do you know why they took me? I’ve asked half a dozen people and nobody will give me an answer.”

If you can understand why they did it, if your captivity was assigned purpose, then maybe—maybe your suffering would mean something.

“Sometimes there isn’t a reason,” he says, and your shoulders wilt. He leans forward in his chair, bracing elbows on his knees, and looks down at the bruised-up state of his hands. “Bad people do bad things just because they’re bad. That doesn’t make what you went through any less real.” He clenches them into fists.

More than you know, he had said.

You believe him.

A routine begins after his first visit. Borne from boredom, seeking comfort, a need for companionship.

He shares bits and pieces of his life, small anecdotes that say little about him as a person. He asks you questions about your life from before. About your job, your hobbies, your family.

On the seventh day, he tells you his name. Leon. It sounds nice on inner-monologue repeat. Even better out loud.

“Leon. Yeah, that suits you,” you say. He’s moved from your desk chair to the edge of the bed, thumbing through the book you currently read.

“You think so?”

“It’s unique. Elegant.”

He snorts out a laugh. “Nothing about me is elegant.”

“I very much disagree.” He glances over at you, gives a hum. Closes the book. “No, I wasn’t—fuck, I wasn’t trying to make it weird.”

“I’m flattered, actually.”

You scrub a hand over your buzzing face, now timid as he stares at you. “Jesus Christ.”

You have eyes. Those eyes work. And now that you aren’t in immediate fear of death, you can appreciate his… aesthetic. He cleans up well, looks good in civilian clothing.

Him sparing you from a torturous death might contribute a bit to your starry eyes. That’s what you tell yourself.

“Anyway, thank you again for saving me.”

“Like I told you the last seven times, you don’t have to thank me.”

“I do, though. You have no i—“ you clear your throat when a surge of tears constricts your voice, and he tilts his head. Patient, observant. “You have no idea what it was like in that place.”

He turns serious, brows knotting, settling a shadow over his eyes. “You’re right. I don’t. But if you ever want to talk about it…”

“… you’ll be here.”

“Exactly.”

On the eleventh day, you talk about it. Curled up in his desk chair this time, while he reclines in bed and stares at the wall across from him. A gift of privacy, and you’re grateful.

“The nurse had to sedate me last night.”

“Yeah, I heard. Nightmares?”

You nod. Need to talk about it, lest the brainworms feast on what sanity still resides.

Just say it. Don’t worry about your shaking hands, or the smallness of your voice, or his neutral glances.

Say it. He gets it.

“I don’t really know what caused it, but. Well, everything they did was to wear me down, ya know? It was mostly mental. They never touched me or anything.” You inhale a deep breath, enough to fill your lungs past capacity, and it burns, and you appreciate it. The grounding. “In my dream, though, they did. And it was—fuck, it was brutal. And I woke up and I. Well, I think I was facing the wall, and I thought it was the trunk they put me in and I was just… I was there all over again.”

Fingers graze your knuckles, and you look down at the sight. The way he holds your hand, the scrapes and scars. “You’re okay now.” His grip tightens, but you can’t look up at him, and he doesn’t comment on it. “If you don’t want to talk about it, you don’t have to.”

“I need to.”

“Forcing it does more harm than good. Trust me, you still have time.”

“I’m not like you. I’m weak.”

“You don’t have to be like me.” He laughs under his breath, a sound free of humor. “And I’m not as strong as you think I am.”

He goes to pull away, but you catch a finger and swallow down his stare. “You are the reason I’m alive right now. Don’t sell yourself short.”

“So your opinion is biased.”

You’ve both resorted to hushed voices, as if shutting away the world outside. The four walls of his room intimate instead of imprisoning.

“I don’t know many people who would do what you did.”

“You mean my job?”

“And this. Coming to visit, spending time with me. I didn’t know that was part of the description.”

“It’s not. You just… remind me of somebody.”

“Who?”

He shrugs. “It’s not important.”

Closed-off as ever, enigmatic. Magnetic in the curiosity that plagues you, but still, you let him go, and skin burns warm where his hand used to lay.

“Will you tell me why they took me?”

He leans back, fluffs up his pillow, and you read the change in energy. He’s done talking. “I took an oath of silence, I’m afraid.”

“I figured as much.”

It’s day fourteen now. Your antibiotics are finished, electrolytes balanced, system flushed of illness. Free of… whatever stuck you in quarantine in the first place. Ready to go home.

Home as in a fresh name, a false death certificate, a new start that you never wanted.

Everyone you’ve ever loved will know you to be dead. Four months missing, body never found. You’ve seen too much. Bad people would come looking for you.

Let them.

Far as the doctor and the nurses and the agents who meet with you are concerned, your anger stems from overreaction. They sedate you again—fuck the meds you aren’t taking them this is wrong!

A family you’ve known almost three decades, your entire goddamn life, and you'll never see them again. You never asked for this. You want to go home.

They send Leon to your four-walled cell, some kind of sick-joke manipulation tactic poorly guised as a mediator. Look, the man you’ve grown close to, who understands what you’re going through, here to do our bidding. To make you seem crazy. Dramatic. He’ll convince you, right?

Who wouldn’t act like this? Who would agree to this?

“You’re a fucking liar. I should’ve known.” The meds leave you woozy, double-edge your vision. You can’t even coordinate well enough to sit up, to look at him proper.

You’re still angry. Still so fucking angry you could scream the walls down, but your muscles have turned gelatinous and you couldn’t show it if you tried. Which makes it even worse. Turns to fury that boils and wails and consumes until nothing of you is left but ash and you’ve always been one to project hatred inward anyway.

“I never lied to you.”

“I don’t fucking care. I just wanna go home.” Even your voice runs flat, slurred like you’re six shots deep. At least you can still cry. “This isn’t fair. I wanna go home. I miss my family. I wanna go home.”

“Listen, I understand—“

“No you don’t. Stop saying that. Shut up, Leon.”

He doesn’t. Nobody does. You never wanted this. Never asked for it. It’s not fair. It’s not fair!

A cool pressure rests over your temple, and you open your eyes to find him kneeled beside the bed, a gloved hand comforting against the side of your face.

“I know exactly how you’re feeling.” His gaze shards up your chest—if all-consuming grief had a look, you witness it now. “Losing everything, starting all over again, leaving behind your entire life. It’s not just you.”

“I can’t do this.”

“You can. You’ve come this far, and I won’t let you give up.”

You wish to move, to push him away, but you’re so tired. “You should’ve left me in that warehouse.”

“I’m glad I didn’t.”

He talks you into complying. You resign yourself to a new life. Change your driver’s license, your birth certificate, credit cards, cell phone number, email, leave everything you ever loved behind.

It’s hard. You sit in your new apartment and you cry most days. The agency allots you a therapist for the first six months. Until you can get back on your feet.

After six months, you’re still crawling. You have no money. Your resources are cut off and the agency doesn’t care and you have nobody to turn to.

Scratch that. Leon cares. He calls sometimes, to check on you, to see how you’re doing. What can you even tell him?

Yeah, everything’s good.

You couldn’t leave your house for months because every car screamed danger. When you conquered that fear, got a job nearby, a customer sounded like the man who always drew your blood. Woodsmoke smooth, a guise of trust, malicious in the eyes. You were fired after four days of consecutive no-shows. Four days of hiding inside your locked bedroom. Another job, quit after the first week when the song you heard in that goddamn trunk played every hour like clockwork.

Yeah. Everything’s good.

You don’t expect the knock at the door. Nobody ever comes to visit anymore, and a surge of adrenaline leaves you frozen at the kitchen sink.

Another knock. You drop to the floor. Curl up beneath the counter.

The phone rings, and you leave the answering machine to catch it:

Hey, this is Leon. If you’re home and you can hear this, I’m outside right now. Probably should’ve called first, huh?

Oh. Just Leon. Thank god.

You open the front door and peek through the crack, and he steps back to give you space.

“It’s just me,” he says, gives you a smile, all reassuring and warm.

You step back to let him in, and he moves slowly, calmly. Guilt curls heady inside your chest, makes you wince. It’s not his fault. “Sorry. I’m still jumpy.”

“No, it’s fine. My mistake. I just wanted to stop by while I’m in town.” He toes off his shoes then crosses thick arms, clad in his leather jacket. “You’re a shitty liar.”

Everything’s good.

“I know.”

He motions to the couch, asks, “Can I sit?”

“Yeah. Do you want water or something?”

“No, that’s okay. I can’t stay long.”

You’re used to it. Being alone all the time. Staring at the cold sheets of your bed, sharing meals with the empty chair across from you. You miss having friends, and family, and—and you miss being loved.

As if witnessing your thoughts, he makes a sound in his throat. Shakes his head. “Not that I don’t want to. I have somewhere important to be tomorrow.”

“It’s fine, Leon.”

“Is there anything you need while I’m here?”

“I’m fine.”

He falls silent, squints up at you. “You don’t have to bullshit me.”

You blink for a moment. Decide the best way to worm yourself from beneath his stare. Decide it’s best to be honest. “I’m just…” you deflate with a sigh, and the drain of false optimism leaves you exhausted, “I’m not your responsibility.”

“I don’t think that. Maybe I’d just like to do something nice for you.”

“But… why?”

“Why not?”

You join him on the couch, curling up all sad and defeated. Tired. So fucking tired. “We barely know each other.”

“Like that’s ever stopped me before.”

You don’t deserve it, you want to say. You shouldn’t be here. Alive at all.

He turns to you, leans forward to plant his elbows on his knees. “We can start with lunch?”

“I don’t have any money.”

“I didn’t ask if you had money.”

The thought of leaving your apartment scares you. The thought of staying scares you. And he knows that. Can sniff out your six-month-long bout of agoraphobia like he exists inside your brain.

And he smiles, soft as always, a comfort to frayed nerves. “I won’t let anything happen to you. It’s just lunch.”

Just like before, like all those other times that he made promises with impossible odds, you believe him. God, if you believe anybody, it’s him.

He gets it. Knows exactly what to say to sate, to glue a little piece of the Old You back in place.

He gets it, and he’s been here before, and you like him.

Shit. You like him.

“Okay. Lunch.”

His smile widens, and he looks at you like you’ve walked through flame—earth-shattering pride and warmth and something else you can’t quite place. “Maybe we can make it a date.”

A date. A date.

Your eyes grow wide, and he waits. Gives you time to process.

It’s a lot.

The idea seems wonderful. But the world is grey most days, and many things that should provide happiness bring you little more than lightning-strike stress.

You wish you could say yes.

“I don’t think you realize what you’re getting into.” His smile disappears, and you reach for a hand. Wish to will the color back to his face. “I’m not saying no. I’m just.” You take a readying breath, and steady your eyes on his. “I’m really fucked up right now, and I understand if you don’t wanna deal with that.”

You don’t even want to.

“Listen, I’m not expecting you to marry me. We’ll just… dress up and have a nice time.”

You look at him, and the emptiness, the exhaustion of his own eyes speaks to how much he needs this, too. A break. A distraction. Something good for once in his life. A sentiment you very much share.

You drag a thumb over the back of his hand and scoot closer, until your legs touch and the heat of his body calms you. “When you said I remind you of somebody. It was you, wasn’t it?”

His nose crinkles in a way undeniably cute. Almost embarrassed, if you can believe it. “Damn. That obvious, huh?”

“Context clues, actually. You’re really hard to get a read on.”

“I’ve been trying to work on that.”

“Then I guess I can work on… leaving the house.” You give a shrug. “No better time than now, right?”

“Now is good.”

Another piece, glued back in place. He seeks to work through one at a time, over and over again, until none remain. Won’t stop until the you that you lost becomes whole.

You’re scared. Nauseous, pained in the chest. But hopeful.

He keeps his promises.

#THE GRIP THE ANGST DID TO MY HEART OH MY GOD #like it’s so sad i feel it down to my toes #i loved it

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lilyleely · 1 year

Text

Through Her Eyes

Synopsis: Ada observes you and Leon as you trek through the village and castle of Los Illuminados, only to realize he wasn't her little loyal pup anymore.

A/N: I wanted to try something different! I saw a lot of people writing jealous reader or jealous Leon, but I was like "No one has done an Ada POV yet, I could give it a shot. I might do a part 2 with the rest of the game if you guys would like!

Taglist:

@izuniias , @spookluckpuck , @uhlunaro , @inaflashimagine , @amatxs , @aussiepineapple1st , @honeysoakedbandages , @boundinparchment , @tosuckmyweenis , @airanke

It was interesting, watching you two communicate. Leon had this way of shrugging his shoulders whenever he spoke, sometimes tossing his arms into the air to somehow solidify his point. You, on the other hand, were a bit carefree with your body language, Ada noticed. Quite the opposite to your companion. Perhaps it was because you were more comfortable with him, maybe you have worked with him for a longer time than she estimated. You two were discussing a plan, but Ada couldn’t get the absolute details. If she did, she would’ve most likely been seen–at least heard. The environment was rough and rocky, full of sticks and branches that easily could be broken or snagged against her outfit. She knew better.

Though she did catch a brief moment with you two when she was forced to get closer–she had grabbed her binoculars to observe some of the villagers ahead, they were carrying pitchforks and axes, glancing around like mindless dogs. How cute, such obedient little pups.

“We could split up, maybe we’d find Ashley easier that way.” You suggested, maybe adding a shrug of your own shoulders.

“No, I don’t think splitting up would be the best idea,” Leon said instantly. Ada felt her chest coil at the sound of his voice. It was deeper now, more scratchy, rugged. He had definitely seen more than what he was forced to at Raccoon City. She figured that would be the case, now being the President’s little weapon, being kept under his nose for his every beck and call. Wesker made sure to do some research on him, in case he would be a nuisance in the process of delivering the amber. You, on the other hand, were a new, unexpected addition. Perhaps another lackey the President kept hidden. But Ada couldn’t help wondering why only two people? The President’s daughter was taken here, wasn’t she? She would’ve thought Daddy would come to collect his little girl as soon as he could with an army of men at the ready. Or, he’s truly that worried for his image and was desperate to keep this under wraps because of what was at this location.

“Stuck to me like glue, huh?” You quipped. Ada heard Leon scoff, the sound of a gun being reloaded echoed throughout the area.

“I’d rather you be here than in the dirt somewhere I can’t see.” Protective, she noted. Interesting. You two must’ve been friends, at least. Then again, what did she know? He could’ve been like this with a lot of people. He definitely had a habit of being friendly, of asking questions.

“Hunnigan said the path to the lake was beyond a windmill, right? Then I guess that’s our destination.”

Ada cursed under her breath before launching herself off the roof of one of the houses. She would’ve been out in the open, easily spotted. She hunched over a barrel, checking her own guns. A few bullets had been used earlier when she rang the church bell. She didn’t know what compelled her to come back to the village area, but she found herself here, observing. Too late to complain now, the damage was done. She would book it for a different direction the moment you two were out of sight.

She poked her head out slightly, watching as your shadows came into view and then your figures. She had stopped paying attention to what you two were talking about, that wasn’t in her job description. Though she couldn’t help eyeing Leon for a second longer. His physique had certainly changed, too. He had more muscle, his eyes were tired, small gray circles under them. You were trailing behind him, holding your pistol with a tight grip. Ada noticed your eyes darting back and forth, now extremely cautious. From what she could note, you were the observer type and she had to be extra alert for anything that could cause a sound.

“Wait,” you said, stopping in your tracks. “There’s a path up ahead.” You started trekking towards it, footsteps were heavy with movement. You were in a hurry. Leon seemed to be startled slightly but quickly followed suit. Ada felt a smirk forming on her lips. He was following you so fast, like a lost puppy, just as he did with her. You had him wrapped around your finger and didn’t even realize it. Ada was convinced if Leon had a tail, it would surely be wagging. He was under your spell.

“Still a good boy, huh Leon?” Ada murmured to herself.

–

After saving Leon from nearly being crushed to death by a taller man–Luis called him the ‘big cheese’ of the village–Ada had lost track of you two by the time night fell across the village. This was good. It allowed her to carry through with the delivery of the amber with no trouble. No more distractions.

At least, until Luis found himself caught in between two messes.

From a rock, Ada discovered what seemed to be a battle for survival in a nearby, abandoned house. She noticed your figure and then Leon’s, and then her little carrier pigeon. You three were scrambling around one another, fighting off Gnado after Gnado, scraping by with the skin of your teeth. Ah, she would’ve helped, surely, but she had bigger priorities. She knew Luis could handle himself and if it truly was time for her to rescue someone she’d do what she needed to. She had at least one grenade she could spare if she truly had to.

It wasn’t necessary, you three pulled through somehow. Ada had told Leon he had some unique version of dumb luck, and it seemed it still carried through.

Luis found her later, desperate to catch his breath. She reminded him of the deal, of the amber. He was annoyed, clearly, but he knew what he had to do.

Once Ada arrived at the castle, she started to notice some little attributes of you and Leon. The both of you were a good team–you have saved him countless times, pulling him towards you when an axe was about to slice his throat, shooting over his shoulder when he couldn’t see an enemy. Ada had to admit you were skilled, and it was no wonder you two were there to protect little Miss Graham. The girl was petrified of the whole thing. She reminded Ada of a doe-eyed lamb, sheltered from the dangers of the world until only recently.

Before Ada encountered Leon in the castle, she had accidentally found you two–not three, the girl must’ve been taken away, the two of you probably running yourselves ragged trying to retrieve her again. Ada quickly hid in a spot she knew she wouldn’t be found. You had requested Leon stop for a second, sliding down the wall of a hallway to catch your breath.

“You alright?” Leon asked softly.

“Just peachy,” you snapped, gritting your teeth once first aid spray hit raw skin. You had an open wound, skin sliced open, red flowing to the floor. “Sorry, it just hurts like hell.”

“No, I get it,” Leon said he didn’t have much on him but guns and some herbs, but Ada watched as he grabbed a tablecloth from one of the stands. “Surely they wouldn’t mind if we borrow this?”

You looked at him with big eyes full of gentleness and wonder, of awe and inspiration, the same way he had to her, and she realized that it wasn’t just Leon that was under a spell. Though you immediately hardened your gaze when you realized he was now looking at you.

“There, that should hold you. For a while, I’d hope. Wouldn’t want you to bleed on their fancy carpet.”

“Oh, the horror.” You feigned concern.

Did you two even realize you were flirting? Did you even realize that when you were scourging through your bag, Leon had a softer look on his face? Was watching you with such intent, with such curiosity?

Ada sighed, loading her pistol. She wouldn’t be able to drag him with her this time, but that was fine.

She could find some other way.

#OH this is fresh!!!#i loved it

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lilyleely · 1 year

Text

ᴛʜᴇ ᴏꜰꜰɪᴄᴇ

leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: au where no outbreaks have occurred. chris, jill, leon, and you all work for the RPD, you working as the STARS secretary. you’ve had a crush on a certain blue eyed officer for nearly a year, and chris and jill are getting impatient.

warning(s): swearing, chris redfield being a little shit

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Something something Raccoon City something something Officer Valentine, the voice in your head proof reads on the bright screen for what seemed to be the tenth time in the last five minutes. Something pulses behind your forehead as you squeeze your eyes shut, leaning back in your squeaky office chair. Glancing at the little numbers at the bottom corner of the monitor, 10:16 am, you hold back an irritated sigh. Damn, not even close to lunch yet.

“Hey, did you get that status report filed? Irons said he hasn’t gotten the email.” A deep voice fills your ears, enhancing your forehead pulse. You clear your throat and raise your eyes to see Chris Redfield standing in front of your desk with a cup of coffee in hand. Mmm caffeine sounds so good right now, especially with that hazelnut creamer Barry brought in last week- oh shit he’s waiting for an answer-

“Uh, I’m pretty sure I did, give me a sec,” you click on the reports tab you know you left open to reveal a completely blank document, “aand I totally didn’t.” Chris’ lips quirked up in amusement, observing as your shoulders shrunk and you threw your head back like a teenager who just got grounded. His deep chuckle filled your ears as he sat on top of your desk in the space behind your monitor.

“I’m surprised. You’re usually on top of this stuff.” The ‘seriously?’ look you gave him earned you another bout of laughter, and you roll your eyes at his antics.

“I couldn’t sleep, my asshole neighbors won’t stop screwing each other’s brains out.” You rest your forehead on your hand, and sigh.

“Sounds like someone’s jealous.” Your gaze snapped up to the man, a look of disbelief on your face. Chris had a shit eating grin on his face, knowing your crush was an easy target.

You were walking to Chief Irons’ office to hand him the late reports your predecessor had failed to file, which prompted their firing. It was your second day as the secretary for the STARS unit and you liked the job so far, you got along well with the force. You also didn’t mind picking up the pieces of the previous secretary, which you were warned about before accepting the job.

You were walking across the main hall’s catwalk, glancing down at the front desk, attention taken by a commotion caused by a peeved civilian. Neglecting your surroundings, you found yourself smacking right into a wall. You stumbled backwards as a hand gripped your bicep to catch your fall. Wait walls don’t have hands-

“Woah! I am so sorry, ma’am, I wasn’t watching where I was going.” A sweet, boy-ish voice filled your ears, and your eyes flashed up to your victim. You observed the face in front of you; a strong jaw, straight nose, pretty blues, and sleek, blonde fringe. He was half a foot taller than yourself, and pretty muscular for his age, he couldn’t have been any younger than you. The scent of eucalyptus and peppermint filled your nostrils, and you felt butterflies flutter in your stomach and chest. You were definitely paying attention now.

“Uh- don’t worry about it. Totally my fault.” You nervously laughed, regaining your footing. The man let his gentle grip release from your arm and he flashed you a shy smile. Hot guy smiling at me hot guy smiling at me RED ALERT-

“I’m Leon Kennedy, i-it’s my first day.” He held out a hand for you to shake, and you grasped it in your own, noting how small your hand was compared to his. Imagine these babies cupping my a-

“It’s nice to put a face to the name strewn across the ceiling,” you shared a quick laugh as you referenced the small welcome party the police department held for him downstairs, which you had seen during your tour of the station the day before, “it’s actually my second day.”

“Good to know I’m not the only rookie around here.” One side of his mouth quirked up charmingly, and you felt your knees momentarily go weak. You giggled uncharacteristically, and something in your hand suddenly became heavy. You cleared your throat in realization that you were still holding his hand, so you pulled your hand back and tried to casually to smooth down your black pencil skirt, not seeing the flash of disappointment in Leon’s eyes.

“Right. Well, I guess I’ll see you around, Rookie.” The words left your lips in surprising confidence, and Leon stared at you with a small smile and a look you couldn’t quite decipher.

“See you around.”

Later that day, you sat at your desk with a pitifully dreamy expression, unable to stop thinking about the rookie who was currently downstairs actually working, unlike yourself.

Those eyes, that face, that HAIR. God I could run my fingers through it all day long. He smelled so good, I thought I was going lightheaded- AND HIS HANDS! His grip was so firm, I wonder what else he could grip firmly-

“Hello?? You good?” You jumped at the face suddenly in front of yours, pushing out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Jill Valentine, the gorgeous yet intimidating STARS officer, was staring at you in amusement.

“What? Oh, yeah, sorry.” You spoke nervously. Jill raised a brow and chuckled, leaning one hand against your desk and placing the other on her hip.

“Thinking about your boyfriend?” You felt your ears go hot at the implication, and you stuttered as her smirk grew.

“What? N-No! I-I don’t.. have a boyfriend.” Your eyes diverted away from hers.

“So the kid downstairs isn’t your boyfriend? I saw you two earlier. I thought I was gonna have to bend over a toilet.” You guffawed, and Jill couldn’t help the barking laugh that bubbled from her chest.

“I’m totally joking! But you should go for it. Word around the water cooler is he’s single~” Jill sang, giving you a wink and leaving you to your embarrassment. Unfortunately for you, she was on her way to tell her own boyfriend the gossip about the new girl.

And now, almost a year later and staring in the face of Satan himself, you were kicking yourself for being so doe eyed back then.

“Who’s jealous?” Jill enters the office with a manila folder in hand, a blue STARS logo stamped to the back. Her short, brown hair was pulled back into a low ponytail, a few pieces framing her face in a charming way. Her blue eyes glistened in the fluorescents as they switched back and forth between you and her boyfriend, unsurprisingly excited about some potential workplace gossip.

You see the shit eating grin form on Chris’ face at the opportunity to tease you about Him, and you quickly take the opportunity to intercept.

“I am! Chris has coffee and I don’t. Come with me to the break room?” You put on a puppy dog face for dramatic effect, and Jill raises a suspicious brow. You lace your fingers together with a small pout, and she rolls her eyes playfully with a smirk.

“Sure, let me drop this off at my desk.” Jill turns and walks away, leaving you and Chris alone. His grin was now replaced with an impressed expression, slowly nodding his head.

“Not bad, but this isn’t over.” He gives you a wink and walks back to his desk, and you release a breath. Stupid Chris and his stupid words-

Standing from your chair, you meet Jill at the door of the STARS office and walk side by side to the break room.

“So.. what was that about?” Jill asked, and you groan. She always knew when you were full of shit, it came with the price of being best friends.

“What do you think it was about?” Jill laughed and shook her head.

“God, when are you gonna make a move on that kid? You guys have been pining after each other for, what, a year? I’m surprised it’s been this long.” You scoff and cross your arms as you round the corner of the hallway.

“I am not pining. And neither is he, because if he liked me back he would’ve done something about it by now.” Jill rolled her eyes and huffed.

“I swear you guys are blind. I knew from the second I had to witness that first flirt fest that you guys liked each other. It was love at first sight.” Jill let out a dramatic, whimsical sigh, and wrapped her toned arm around your shoulders. You shook your head, about to push her arm off when she unexpectedly pulled it back down to her side.

“Actually, I’m not feeling coffee. I have to pee. I think I hear my name- yes Chief?” Jill abruptly turned on her heel and you watched in surprise as she dipped back around the corner like a ninja. Why am I even friends with her?

You turn back around and enter the break room, stuttering on your next step when you spotted Leon standing at the counter in his uniform, stirring sugar into his coffee. He was the only one in room besides you, so you took the opportunity to observe him.

Leon had certainly kept up with training, his shoulders were a little bigger and legs a little thicker than when you first met. His hair was shorter though, the regulations the RPD had for their officers prohibiting him from growing it any longer than the tops of his ears, but it still shined in the fluorescent lighting.

“Leon?” You watched Leon’s shoulders jerk upwards and the spoon he previously held clanged to the counter unceremoniously. His head whipped around and spotted you, a small huff of air leaving his lungs in relief.

“God, you scared me.” He laughed, and you laughed with him.

“Sorry, I just wasn’t expecting you up here. You know you have a break room downstairs, right?” For some reason your teasing question caught him off guard, and a faint red tinged his cheeks.

“Uh y-yeah, but the um—coffee’s better up here.” He replied, a cheeky grin gracing his lips. You chuckled and moved next to him, grabbing a mug from the open cabinet, pouring yourself a cup.

“How’s your day going?” Leon spoke after a few seconds, and you smiled giddily down into your coffee at the mere fact that you were having a conversation with him. But then the conversation from seconds ago with Jill came back to mind and your smile dropped as you suddenly became nervous.

“Gine.” You look at Leon and he has an amused smile on his face, a perfect eyebrow raised. Why is he looking at me like that? Is there something on my face??! Wait—GINE??

“FINE! I meant fine. I was gonna say good but then I said fine for some reason,” you felt your face get hot as you babbled in your flustered state, “um. A-Anyways, how are you?”

“Gine.” His smile widened into a cheshire grin and you smacked his shoulder, eliciting a giggle from the officer in front of you.

“Shut up, Kennedy! I’m going back to my desk.” Your face got hotter as you grabbed your mug from the counter beside you.

“No, stay! Have a cup of coffee with me.” You looked back up at him and his cheshire grin was now a soft smile. You narrowed your eyes in suspicion, and he turned towards one of the small tables in the corner of the room, motioning for you over his shoulder.

“Come on, it won’t hurt to take a little break.” Leon sat in one of the chairs and you felt yourself moving to the opposite chair before you could even make up your mind. Only Leon could have this effect on me.

“Only because I like doing charity.” You sighed, and he raised his brows in mock surprise.

“Excuse me, but weren’t you the one begging me to take an extra hour for lunch last week?” Leon crossed his arms on the table, leaning towards you, and you glanced at his muscles bulging in his shirt before you quickly rolled your eyes.

“That taco truck only comes once a month, y’know!” You pointed a finger at him in playful anger, and Leon chuckled, a smile gracing his luscious lips.

“You just don’t wanna admit you like spending time with me.” His smile suddenly turned into a playful pout, and Jill’s words suddenly filled your mind again. ‘I knew from the second I had to witness that first flirt fest that you guys liked each other.’

Jill is the most observant person I know. She couldn’t be wrong. Unless she was teasing me, but she knows how much I like him.. Does he like me? Nobody else jokes around with me like this. Except maybe Chris, but he’s an idiot and Leon definitely isn’t an idiot, and oh god he’s staring at me I forgot to talk he’s so hot-

“Hey, you okay? I was just kidding.” Leon had concern written all over his face and you cleared your throat.

“Yeah, I was just thinking about something.” You said, and Leon raised a suspicious brow.

“And what would that be?” That you like me which is impossible because you’re you and I’m me and Jill has to be wrong!

“Just something Jill said, her and Chris have been teasing me about this crush I have.” Something in Leon’s expression fell suddenly. Oh god why did I say that-

“Oh.. Well, what did she say?” It was silent for a beat, then you decided to test her theory out.

“She’s convinced that my crush likes me back, but I don’t know..” you bite your lip and you watch his eyes glance down at the action, but quickly glance back up at your eyes.

“Well,” Leon clears his throat, “I think any guy would be lucky to say that you have a crush on them.” You feel a blush fill your cheeks and you smile softly at him.

“Thanks, Leon.” You notice his cheeks get red as well, and he gives a shaky chuckle before looking at you with an eyebrow raised.

“Well, are you gonna tell me who it is or are you gonna leave me hangin’?” Leon asked, and you swear your heart stopped. Your mouth open and closed like a fish out of water, and Leon’s eyebrows furrowed.

“U-Uh… I um- well you see-” Before you could embarrass yourself any further, Chris barged into the break room with Jill following, looking up at her boyfriend with an expression of frustration.

“I just wanna see if I can catch them making ou-” Chris stops in the doorway at the sight of you and Leon sitting innocently across from one another, “oh,” his excited expression dropping quickly into disappointment. Jill’s hands were wrapped around his arm as she bumped into his side at his abrupt stop, frustrated eyes turning sympathetic as she shifted them from Chris to you.

“Excuse us.” Jill says, yanking on Chris’ arm and they were gone just as fast as they appeared. Thankfully that little stunt, which you were totally gonna kill Chris for, cured your nervousness.

“I swear he was dropped on his head or something.” You deadpanned, and Leon laughed, taking a sip of his coffee.

“I tell myself the same thing every day.” You laughed together, and after the laughter died down you sat in a comfortable silence. You were tapping your coffee mug with your finger gently, staring into the tan liquid in thought.

“You don’t have to tell me who it is,” Leon spoke quietly, and your eyes shot up to his, only he wasn’t looking at you anymore—“if you like him I can bet anything he’s a good man, and I’m happy for you.” And in that moment, witnessing Leon’s failure to hide his sadness in his smile, you knew.

Leon Kennedy liked you.

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[A/N] hey guys! let me know if i should write a pt 2?? maybe?? potentially???? i really liked writing this one !!

#PART 2 WHERE #I NEED THESE CUTE BABIES TO MAKE OUT ALREADY

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