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scentedpepper · 2 months

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Missions, Malaise and Migas Pt. VIII | Leon Kennedy

Pt. 1 Pt. 2 Pt. 3 Pt. 4 Pt. 5 Pt. 6 Pt. 7

Fandom: Resident Evil

Pairing: Leon Kennedy x Male Reader

Summary: Leon and Y/N have some underlying issues. Ones they tried to warn DSO about.

Content Warnings: None

Other Pairings: Luis Sera x Reader

Author Note(s): AHHHHHHHHH

"Y/N. " Over and over he calls your name, a hand gripping your arm. He wastes no time, trying to nudge you awake as he pulls you closer to his shoulder and your head lulls the slightest, a gush of air whispering through your lips as you weakly say his name.

There is blood. Warm, wet, blood stuck between the crevice of Leons neck and the bridge of your nose and he wants to freak out, he wants to panic when he feels your eyelashes fanning down against his skin, leaving specks of droplets as you fall from your own consciousness and all he can do is cradle your form, like the most valuable object in the universe has been dropped. It's like his world is floating out of existence, a speck that keeps getting smaller.

And it does get smaller. Every time your eyes slip shut, every moment you can barely let out a proper breath or the smallest whimper of your partner's name, the tighter he held onto your dying corpse.

Somewhere along the way he'd found himself on his knees, unable to think as he holds on to you as if it'd somehow preserve your lifeline. He doesn't know what to do. He has no clue. For once, he can't seem to conjure up a solution, a plan, the next course of action, an escape route, a different outcome. Anything.

When his hands cup the sides of your face, your skin is still hot, your body limp, all he can manage out in this flurry of seconds is your name, again and again as if it would be the one thing to bring you back into the world. You always seemed so solid, a rock, the one he could lean against but his foundation was gone now, his only salvation left in the form of Luis who was beginning to kneel in front of him, his frame coming back into focus.

Luis rests a hand on Leon's shoulder and he nearly flinches at the action. "Hermano, a breath. " He needs the mans attention. "This is serious. " It isn't easy to break Leon out of his mental state, but there's panic swelling in his own chest as he tries to figure out why your breathing is only growing worse by the second.

His hands travel from the gentle cradle of your head and he's feeling around the right side of your neck. First, in desperation and then in a more calculated manner, following the trail from your jawline to the soft spot and then he feels it. It's a hasty thrum, a pattern of pounding. Something erratic and unsteady but enough of a pattern to cause relief to swirl around in his stomach. "Stay calm. "

He's shaky and unsure but he nods once.

"You need to call. Someone. Anyone. " He says urgently and Leon fumbles for the piece of equipment in his ear. He pushes the button quickly and he mutters a relieved thank you when contact is established and a voice fizzles through the tiny speakers.

"Leon?" Hunnigan's vocals ring out over the static and for a moment, Leon feels his heart being cradled in the sound of her. His fear, his anger. "We've been trying to locate you. What's your status?"

"I.." Leon can't find the words, can't force out the information he so badly needs to relay, even his fingers begin to feel weak and Luis nods reassuringly before responding to the woman on the other side.

"Ingrid! It's Luis. " Luis is already reaching for your limp form, ready to lift you, take you out of this god forsaken place and into somewhere safer, to people who can take care of you. "Y/N, he's injured. "

"Injured? " The panic in her voice mirrors the amount that Leon tries to swallow down. "What happened?"

"Its-- I don't--" He cuts himself off, hands leaving you for a brief moment as if to search but they fall back to your form. "I don't know. He passed out. The injuries we see aren't severe enough for that. "

"You're gonna have to elaborate. Can you carry him out?"

"Leon? Listen to me. " Hunnigan's voice is gentle but stern and it's enough to center Leon in what he needs to do. It's clear to her that the distress is beginning to consume the agent. She can practically sense the slight hysteria creeping its way into his veins. "Listen to me. " Her voice picks up and she's watching the screen pull up various pieces of data.

Your vitals.

It does not read well.

"I see them. " Leon responds slowly.

The data says your heart rate is unsteady, and even climbing. Your breathing is sporadic at best but with every passing second, it gets easier and then harder to manage.

Hunnigan isn't sure if she should force anything else out of him, and the way his body coils around the air is enough to determine this is not the time. "Carry him out. " It's an order. One that he mindlessly follows like a programmed bot.

"Hand him to me. " He says to Luis as he stands up and for a few seconds, Luis is hesitant.

"Please. " Leon can almost see him processing what he'd just said, how desperate his words sounded and the glazed stare is enough for Luis to get moving again, delicately adjusting you into your partners hold.

Leon takes you gently and when he cradles you against his frame, it's one of the most secure things he's ever felt, your head on his shoulder, your breaths against his skin. He's taken aback by the weight that appears heavier than it should.

Luis doesn't speak but keeps a watchful gaze over Leon's shoulder as he exits the storage facilities. His walk is fast-paced with Luis just a few paces behind him, your gun in hand as he keeps a watchful gaze on the surroundings.

“I’m sending a chopper. “

...

The sounds in his ear, or more specifically Hunnigan, begins to fade out and at some point becomes useless as it shifts to something unimportant and distant. He's worried. Too worried.

The waiting room is cold but he's sweating.

Once he has time to reflect in the moment, away from people watching and judging, he begins to come to.

That maybe he wasn't actually capable of being so distracted as he was being an uncaring imbecile.

He wishes you could see him now.

Terrified.

A mess in the middle of DSOs medical facility.

Alone.

His chin dips down to his chest, his hands clenching and unclenching.

He tries not to think about it. He does. The way you could barely breathe or the way you forced his name past your lungs.

Hunnigans gone silent beside him.

The fact that he's here right now grows distant as his gaze fades into the mucky brown carpet. The color of it is close to the stains on his face. He hasnt been cleaned up, checked, or treated. He doesn't want to be.

He wants to sit in the filthy mess of dried blood for the rest of his life.

Maybe thats dramatic.

But its how he feels.

Hes picking at his fingers, shredding them and hes almost certain he can hear muffled cries from the public bathroom Luis had excused himself to moments earlier.

That or his eardrums are finally giving out.

His head lulls against the wall, shoulders drawn in tightly, feet spread apart, like a child.

It feels like he's too big for the seat, that all he has to do is move, and it will shatter beneath his weight. It feels like his head is too large. His heart too massive and it's fighting against his sternum.

He breathes out slowly.

He blinks in long waves.

He's supposed to be responding, he's conscious enough to know that there's someone standing in front of him wanting to know why one of their best agents is facing a sentence of death. But he can't focus on the words. He can't decipher them.

The look on the persons face reads loud and clear.

Their hands. They pull him up. They hurt, tight against his bruising forearms.

"Agent Kennedy. " It's an older man. He has thinning hair and the buttons of his shirt are loose, the collar even worse. He's almost as much a mess as Leon is. Almost. "I need you to answer these questions. "

His ears ring.

The words blend together and fade to white noise. His jaw opens and he can't find himself able to respond.

"Kennedy!" There's anger in the man's voice.

"Yes. " It's a breath, a strangled answer that the older man doesn't quite make out. There's confusion. An unwelcome scowl.

He tries to get a few more words out of the the man but only ever so many seem to get through. Something about 'understands the policies and how the public services they pay for cannot be wasted'. He seems to believe Leon doesn't care enough about his partner and the 'goddamn mission'. Like its more important than a life.

It becomes easier to disconnect.

When he does finally process the last few words out of his superior's mouth, its enough to settle him.

"..be put on a tight rope, Agent Kennedy. As soon as Mr. (L/n) awakens and is properly handled, you will be called for a meeting that is required to take place after the events that took happened here. Or–" The man is scowling, "You can suck it up and tell me what the hell went on here. "

It's an oddly polite wording and as Leon falls back into the seat after his arm had been harshly released he starts to put together what had transpired without his permission. How lost his mind had been.

To be honest it's still lost.

Everything around him is one big mess.

"Alright then. " The man sighs. "Mr. Sera came to me earlier saying his own explanation would be a bit.. disheartening. I agree. Until we get to the bottom of this mess, you are not to leave. Got it, Special Agent Kennedy? I'll give you an hour and a half to wrap your mind around everything that has happened and then-- "

"I got it. " Leon cuts through the thickness of his voice with the strength of a samurai. His eyes lift to his superior's and despite how numb he'd felt before, when he watches the man's jaw tighten and his nose flare in irritation, all he can think of is standing up and putting his hands around the slimy fellows throat. His back lifts off of the back of the chair, his body tense and unforgiving.

"...Fine. " The man responds and leaves without another glance.

It's a while before he finds the energy to breathe.

Even longer before Luis comes out of the room he'd locked himself into and tries to hide his raw face and sobbing voice.

If Leon were capable of doing anything, he'd acknowledge the pain the Spaniard felt. The potential loss of someone so close. He'd apologize. Tell him how sorry he is for how he reacted when you came into your last breaths.

For all he knows, Luis is your best friend.

He doesn't know. He doesn't. He doesn't know as much about you as he should. As much as he now realizes he wishes he did.

There are so many things the agent needs to do and say to the Spaniard that comes out of his sight after managing the tears welling in his eyes, wiping away the lines streaming down his cheeks, cursing and muttering under his breath as he tries to push the feelings back down into the depths of his heart.

"Leon. " His voice is as soothing as a song and it only puts him at the slightest of ease.

"Yeah. "

"Lo siento. " I'm sorry. Luis' voice breaks at the tail-end of the sentence but there's that constant levelness behind the tone.

Leon shakes his head, as if the man is wrong for apologizing, wrong for saying it. Its habitual, to act like you don't mean a thing to him. That you haven't taken up such a large part of his life, that you are simply just a distant presence. Partners, associates, even. But you're both well aware of the truth.

He wants you to live, just to see what a future where you have to spend every waking moment with him has to bring. A future you two might even consider putting a label to.

He wants to say something to Luis. Anything. Even a 'Don't'. Don't apologize. The words form in his brain but refuse to make it to his lips and his forehead creases in confusion, in frustration. With himself. For his fault.

He wants to try again. Again and again until he can get the right words out of his mouth but his minds focus is quickly altered when he sees the door to the waiting room open from the corner of his eye and a man steps through.

By the time his eyes focus and fixate, Luis has already stood up.

He sees Luis turn his body towards the approaching doctor and hes quick to follow suit, his vest, which Hunnigan had forced off his body an hour into waiting to check up on him herself being carelessly discarded to the floor.

It's about three seconds after he joins Luis' side that he's forced to choke down the painful thudding coming from his heart. It takes three seconds for his eyes to begin to tear, burning, stinging, as if his pupils have become a cauldron to melt his skin.

Three seconds and he can no longer keep the tight hold on his breath.

Three seconds is too soon for Leon to push back the hotness pressing behind his lids.

Three seconds and all he can think is that you're gonna be alright.

Three seconds and the doctor is speaking.

"Mr. (L/n)?" He asks for confirmation even when it's been evident for the last twenty seconds that it's the right people.

"Yes. " Luis looks so pale, so fragile and suddenly all Leon wants to do is tell him he'll take care of talking to the doctor, that you'll be okay, that he can promise he'll bring you back to him clean, recovered and fully functional.

"Mr. (L/n) is in a very delicate state. " He glances at the three faces in front of, holding a soft gaze that reads nothing but empathy. "He has a few broken ribs, one of which has punctured his liver. His ankle is fractured. There was major bruising and swelling around the throat, which caused most of the issue when it comes to breathing. Luckily for him, it wasn't quite enough to end him. There are a few other wounds that have been correctly patched up with cleaning and stitching. "

Luis' head tilts down to the floor. His hand going to cover his mouth and its clear the man is struggling not to breakdown again.

"We have him on life-support at the moment to ensure his hearts strong enough to go on without it. The first day or two are never easy, but like I said. Mr. (L/n) is in a... delicate state. The next day or so are going to be risky. "

Leon's arms feel tingly, numb and he wants to move them, to take a breathe but hes become stone.

"Can I-- Can I go see him?"

The doctor narrows his eyes. "I'm afraid that right now, it is recommended that no one visits Mr. (L/n). If that changes, I will be sure to let you know. If anything else happens regarding Mr. (L/n)'s case, I will be back as well. "

Leon's fingers itch to connect. Wrapped around your body again, around anything of yours he can get a hold of, for the sake of knowing you're okay. He needs that.

He needs to say it, to tell you something he's waited too long to confess.

"Will he make it?" Luis' voice is low and it's a sentence as forbidden as the one he'd asked about Leon when you first came limping into his hotel room.

Will he?

Leon wonders the same and it's becoming hard to keep himself standing, his legs feel unused, struggling to hold his weight. They want to buckle, give out. He has told hold the nearest thing next to him. Luis. The only thing that'll keep him up.

"I.. Over the many times that I've found Agent (L/n) in my office, he's insisted on giving me the allowance to talk a little less than formally. So I won't be lying or sugar coating any of this. " The doctor takes a breath.

"He went over the permitted amount of stress for his heart. He had a significant amount of bleeding into his chest cavity and if he wasn't a fighter, as I know from our various chats, we'd be having a different conversation. I'm sure you and him are close and I hate to inform you with such grim details, but Mr. Sera, he is in an incredibly difficult position. "

..It is possible that he will make it. He'll say, to comfort, even though Leon is barely breathing, fighting to keep the dark dancing along the edges of his vision at bay.

He hopes.

But he can't feel it enough in his heart. Not right now.

What's obvious now, to Leon is that you're at your limit, that you're done for.

You're at your most fragile point, this man clearly knew you well to take away the false promises, the pointless fluff that comes with any story after these events. The story where his partner beats impossible odds, reaches the insurmountable and becomes unbreakable.

This is the part where you pull the plug.

Where it all ends, even the fantasy Leon's created in his own head.

Hunnigans head hangs low behind the men. Her eyes closing tightly. "Right..." She says, her voice soft, choked on with sympathy and grief.

She doesn't lift it again until the doctor gives them his sincerest condolences and not much else.

Her eyes follow him out the door, silently chasing after some foreign fantasy as if he'll suddenly turn around and deliver different news.

"...I want to see him. "

It's Luis. Luis is crying.

He's holding onto Leon like hes the last piece of you he has, the last connection to the living.

"Me too. " He says weakly. His voice cracking under the pressure of his emotions.

When their eyes meet, they seem to be trying to draw strength from each other.

Their bottom lips twitch, their hands shake, and their eyes gloss over and the more the atmosphere settles the closer they lean into each other, as if its keeping them on Earth.

Leon is the first to grasp the man.

Pulling him into a tight, desperate hug.

Hunnigan knows that and not much else as she meets the eyes of the figure standing in the frame of the door your doctor had just walked through.

Her eyebrows twitch.

How odd. The strangest time to show up, she thinks. The most unexpected appearance of those sharp features that had some how managed to hold a quiet resonance of sympathy in them. A sadness.

Hunnigan thinks it's unfitting for Ada.

But she supposes, at the end of it all, she's human.

#resident evil #leon kennedy x male reader #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #luis sera x reader #leon kennedy x you #male reader #luis sera x you #angst #ada wong

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scentedpepper · 2 months

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Missions, Malaise and Migas Pt. VII | Leon Kennedy

Pt. 1 Pt. 2 Pt. 3 Pt. 4 Pt. 5 Pt. 6 Final Part

Fandom: Resident Evil

Pairing: Leon Kennedy x Male Reader

Summary: Leon and Y/N have some underlying issues. Ones they tried to warn DSO about.

Content Warnings: None

Other Pairings: Luis Sera x Reader

Author Note(s): guys I'm pissing and shitting the last part is out tmrw

fighting sleep when I edited this😭

The storage facilities were further away than either man had anticipated. Another half a mile of trudging through sticky mud, the sweaty hands and the way you all clung to your weapons, it left Leon, in particular, feeling uneasy and vulnerable to anyone else's attack. So, of course, when the steel doors finally opened and you all limped inside, Leon turned too quickly, unceremoniously slid the deadbolt, a loud thud echoing the vacancy.

You were the first to sit, and you lowered yourself to the metal floor in such a way that you didn’t want Luis nor Leon to see it. Because there was struggle there, that much was obvious as your hand, which had bled through the bandage, grasped to the crinkles in the wall and you delicately lowered your form to the floor as if you held a child in your non-existent uterus. You let out a soft huff when you felt a solidified pressure against your butt and your gun fell into your lap.

Despite the fact that you don't directly look at your partner, your senses are turned in his direction, taking him in, feeling when he eases into position beside you, his legs outstretched, though his fingers still clenched around his gun. He doesn’t lean against the wall, doesn't force you to fall into a lull like your body craves. He knows you're not calm.

After a beat of quiet, he decides to interrupt.

"How you holding up?" He barely gets the question out before your head ticks in his direction. His vision is focused on his weapons. He's carefully looking over every bullet that he has left, the stocking, the inventory that his vest holds.

"I'm fine. " You reply sharply. You can practically feel the suspicion drying against your skin like the layers of blood already there.

Though you can't directly see him, you can feel his stares heating your skin. The one that begins with concern then slowly melts away and comes back like the water drops from rain. The one where you're unsure if he's judging you, mentally criticizing what you're saying to him. Sometimes, you wonder if he has an open book with his thoughts that he conveniently turns the pages to. If you could see his mental library, your name would appear on those pages a lot more than you care to admit.

You shake the thoughts from your head, your other senses returning to the man. The inhales and exhales, how you can hear the slight jangle of his vest moving as he breathes and your hand is reaching into your pocket, pulling out the handgun you took from the woman who attempted to stab your partner in the neck.

A silent thank you that wasn't exactly appreciated.

You let a sigh, a puff out of your chest that hurts more than you're willing to admit and you say the first thing you think of.

"It doesn't feel like we're making progress. "

Leon didn't look at you, continuing to examine his weapons.

"We'll go back for more evidence. " He manages after a moment, the tone of his voice causing your heart rate to throb in your ears. It's deadpan and you get the distinct sense that he doesn't really want to be talking to you right now. Like every other thing that comes out of your mouth is a spitball aimed for his left temple.

Another exhale that you wished you didn't push out so harshly. Your head leans against the wall behind you and then a clank, your gun, at your side. After that, the silence.

Moments later, after peering out the crack through the heavy door and listening more intently than his ears were capable of, Luis sat in the empty space on the other side of you. You're vaguely aware of your breathing, your heartbeat, Luis next to you. It's all in and out and you can't tell if the beat of your heart is from the walk uphill to the storage facilities but the increasing rate is beginning to cause worry that you otherwise hadn't addressed.

You close your eyes, an odd way to fight against the blurring of your eyes.

Your chest wants to rise with the amount of oxygen your body craves and your toes are curled inside your boots, arms draped loosely over your abdomen. There's a faint but consistent ringing in your ear. Despite the fact you could've sworn you weren't in the battlefield, the sounds still echoed around in your skull.

Something is crawling at the back of your throat and there's an airy feeling in your head that causes you to force your eyes back open, wide. You lift yourself up just an inch before a white dot begins to move in and out of your field of vision. You let out a strangled, hitched gasp, slamming back against the wall.

"Hey. " There's something, or more so someone that calls your name in the distance, an arm outstretched, someone's fingers curling around your shoulder. "Y/N. "

You don't respond. You can't. You're too busy trying to stand again. Fight it. Fight. Fight. Fight. But your back slides back down the wall. The sound reverberates through the room and it stuns the men into silence for a moment.

"Y/N?!" Luis is alarmed to say the least and he's begin to get up on one knee. You can't feel his hands on you as you try to stand again but it's his palms bracing you that leaves you successful in your improper endeavors.

"Y/N. " Leons standing now. He takes a few steps forward. Slow. He's stepping like you're a tiger who's been cornered and at any second you may pounce. "Y/N stop. You're just hurting yourself. " There's something other than the usual authority he holds in his voice as he watches you stumble across the room, a hand clutching at your abdomen.

Before you get a chance to speak, a hoarse wheeze shakes through your body and the hands that have wrapped around you, pulling you back with little struggle, seem to have a secure grasp and without intention, you do nothing but use that. Your head falls into the crook of the persons shoulder, the back of your skull, the nape of your neck, the curve of your upper back. It fits against them perfectly.

"Leon. " Your voice is a mere whisper and your eyes are screwed tightly together. Everything feels like pins and needles. When you speak his name it's like watching something deteriorate; crumbling brick, cracks spreading across a clear surface. "I-" You can't get it out. It takes too much of a breath. It'd send a blinding strike of pain throughout your entire torso.

"Don't try. " He says quietly.

It's a few more seconds of staggering with him holding you close to his frame, never daring to pull you away from his shoulder even when you sway on your feet.

You can feel another prescence above you and it doesn't take much to know Luis is there, examining your face, listening to your unsteady breaths. Then his hand is on the back of your head and his fingers give you a kind stroke.

It should hurt. If he were to press a little firmer it would ache but you appreciate the touches nonetheless.

"We need to get him out of here. ¡Rápido!" Luis sounds almost as uneasy as you feel.

"No. " Your voice is barely audible. It's strained and full of effort just to make a sound at all.

Luis and Leon look to you and then back to one another.

In-between the exchanges, your eyes slowly slit open, locking with Leons as you grip the vest that is looped around his side. You can feel yourself losing your footing, like your legs are being detached from your knees and pulled out from underneath you.

You faintly register your name whispered from his lips, his face is strained, scared, and he doesn't look away from your fading gaze and suddenly, it stops. Your vision.

Your lungs cave in, your chest caves in and your head is resting in the safety of Leon's shoulder, an arm bracing you.

#resident evil #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x male reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #luis sera x reader #luis sera x you #male reader

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scentedpepper · 2 months

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Missions, Malaise and Migas Pt. VI | Leon Kennedy

Pt. 1 Pt. 2 Pt. 3 Pt. 4 Pt. 5 Pt. 7 Final Part

Fandom: Resident Evil

Pairing: Leon Kennedy x Male Reader

Summary: Leon and Y/N have some underlying issues. Ones they tried to warn DSO about.

Content Warnings: None

Other Pairings: Luis Sera x Reader

Author Note(s): dr. mike kinda...

Leon's not sure how this happened.

Moments ago, he was staring up at the ceiling, the fans blades spinning round and round as you and Luis converse in the dark, unbeknownst to his conscious body. And now, he was hiding in the trunk of a car with the lengthy man, his feet pathetically shoved into his face.

He doesn't pay attention to the mumbling Spanish cuss words underneath Luis's lips, too uncomfortable, too irritated with his posture and the stuffy area to care. Instead, he's attempting to pay attention.

There's voices outside and there's people rummaging around in the front of the car. He can hear their footsteps, the bumping of legs into the sides, the shifting around the contents, pulling things out and carelessly tossing them to the floor.

Two men, and it's obvious from the slang-like Spanish that's escaping their mouths that they're infected. One in particular chattering on about getting all 'these pricks' and throwing them in one big room for everyone to feed.

He wants to vomit.

Instead, he presses deeper into the vehicle, lowering his body further to avoid hitting his head against the top, listening intently to their activity, allowing his eyes to close in the dark, calming his body down.

He contemplates springing out of the vehicle now. The lack of knowing makes him uneasy because you're around here somewhere, hiding, just like them. You're in danger, they're looking for all three of you and here he is, sitting under the armpit of Luis, the sound of spores coming from a distance.

It seems like it's been eons when finally, the shuffling comes to a stop and the grumbling voices grow fainter. He's almost ready to breathe when the footsteps abruptly stop.

"Hey. " The man slurs. "I wonder how the others are doing. "

"Oh jesus, Alejandro, keep it in your pants. ”

"Nah, I'm really wondering, " Alejandro continues. "You hear some of 'em shot bullets this morning?"

Leon feels his nerves chill.

"I wonder where that could be?"

"Who gives a fuck? Come on. "

"One minute. I'm just gonna radio and let them know we checked this area out. "

The sound of static and then buzzing.

Then, silence and then, noise.

Gurgling, choking noises. Like someone has water stuck in their esophagus and Leon can only think of one thing that would cause that.

He doesn't move, waiting, listening intently as the radio slips onto the floor with a thud, then the choking sound soon stops and there's no sounds to follow. Nothing. No more footsteps.

He waits a while longer before hearing the rustling of the branches. A deer or a random animal.

Slowly, the hinges of the trunk hiss open and the sunlight blinds him for a quick second, casting a bright glow on his face before your shadow casts over it.

You look exactly as he expected you to be. With droplets of blood splattered over your face, nearly coating your hands.

But your eyes are calm and the only sign of disturbance is your chest moving with a greater heaviness than he's used to seeing.

He looks you over after struggling to get past Luis, taking in the way you stand, which parts of your body slump and he thinks your ribs might be causing you more pain than you've let on.

There's a brief moment when you meet his eyes, Luis is cursing in the background, tripping over his own limbs and at the angle you're standing there's wind whipping into your eyes from the opening of the outside storage shed. So maybe you're not seeing straight, or perhaps, all the hard labor of this job is finally getting to you but– your partner‐ well, you could've sworn there was concern in his eyes.

Leon doesn't get a chance to speak.

Before he can get something out, you're turning away, back around to assist Luis who's still trying to work himself out of the clutches of the compacted car.

Leon feels a pinch in his chest, so rapidly, his hands move, fingers curling at his side. You don't even try to say a word to him, let alone look at him. Like you're still bitter that he's here, lingering in the background to criticize you and your thoughts.

When Luis emerges from the car there's a dramatic hand on his heart, but it vanishes rather quickly and he's the one to talk first.

"You okay?" There's seriousness in his voice as he scans you up and down, his eyes meeting Leon's for a split second. "Not hurt, not nothing right?"

You give a firm nod, your face showing not an inkling of distress.

Leon isn't too sure that the response was feasible. But he watched you as you simply went off, to the dusty work table, shuffling around, grabbing things without a second thought. Papers, files, anything. They were haphazardly tossed inside an old backpack that was laid messily by the bench. You were packing the things like your life depended it, looking for any keywords that signaled "bio weapon" to you.

"We have a leak, Leon. Someone's spilling the information on Luis and other projects, not to mention the one for the US government. "

The man lets out a deep sigh and his voice is careful. The new patches of dirt on your face, the arrow holes that punctured the surface of your vest, blood dripping from your eyebrow, the loose strands of stitches that were hanging from your arm after being ripped out, they were all things that made him wary, tip toeing around you, more heedful than Jack and Jill jumping over a candle.

This conversation could and probably would go south at the blink of an eye.

You don't seem to notice his presence until his hand is on your shoulder.

You're zipping the bag up when Leon begins to approach you, his steps are slow and precise like he's stepping on weak floorboards and the outstretch of his arm is even slower.

"Y/N. " His tone is steadier than the shakes of his fingers as they come down onto your shoulder and he turns your body towards him.

Nothing can stop the agitation that pulses throughout your body when you gaze into his blue eyes, staring at him and feeling about ready to cave in his skull.

You're glaring, you realize this but nothing would make your mood budge.

"Lets find a space to sit. " He can tell by the flickering of your eyes that things aren't exactly steady, your mind is at a rapid pace. He saw the way you nearly killed yourself jumping from that landing, running down a hill with a few men on your heels and ripping into people like the idea of humanity no longer interested you. You're worse than normal and it's not just the stress, it's a lot. "There's some empty storage units down the road. We can take advantage of that and you can rest. "

"Rest?" Your voice is hard enough to cause a tremor to jolt inside his body and your face is twisted into something wicked. "Aren't you the one that was so urgent to get out of Luis' hotel room. " You gesture towards the man who's looking on at the two of you, his face contorted into concern. "And suddenly, I'm weak? You want to take a fucking breather?"

"You've done more than your fair share, " Luis throws in. "We're not in a rush anymore. "

"We are in a rush. " You insist. "There's people after us. " Your eyes flee back to the door as if they may suddenly appear. "They're after you. I won't let it happen. You nearly died last time the three of us found ourselves together. "

Something in his face softens ever-so-slightly at your declaration, the worry that twists in your tone. And you feel a small sense of relief flutter around in your chest when he takes your hands in his, the warmth, the reassurance.

"And we'll find 'em. It just means you need to recharge. "

Leons grip tightens on your shoulder but you don't seem to notice as Luis holds your attention. He almost wants to say 'I don't want you getting hurt' but there's a sense of vulnerability in that, so he stops himself, not crossing that line. Not in front of Luis, not in front of anyone.

"And we'll be dead if they find us first. All of us. " You quickly look back to Leon, a huff through your nostrils and a hardness to your stare. But then, Luis gently says your name, bringing your eyes back to him.

"Do you trust me?"

For a moment, you don't know what to say or how to even react. It's been so long since someone has outright asked, knowing the lengths of your career.

After a long beat, you respond. “Yes. “ Your voice is slow, low but there isn’t hesitance and there isn't uncertainty.

Leon seemed to be holding his breath as much as you were and when you finally let it out– he thought you were stupid. Just stupid.

Stupid, not intelligent. Stupid.

Out of all of the people you had to trust. Out of all the people in the world, why would you go out of your way to trust him.

His hold falls. A slight loosening.

To gain someone's trust is hard, to keep their trust, even harder.

Your partner didn't mean to do it, not really. It was such a fine line he walked with you every day. You couldn't tell if he had crossed it or not, even when Luis watched the two of you, the same thing on his face as your own emotions swam around in your body.

Guarded.

Unsure.

If I can trust you with my life, then why can't I trust you with the things that keep me up at night?

#resident evil #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x male reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #luis sera x reader #luis sera x you #male reader

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scentedpepper · 2 months

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Missions, Malaise and Migas Pt. V | Leon Kennedy

Pt. 1 Pt. 2 Pt. 3 Pt. 4 Pt. 6 Pt. 7 Final Part

Fandom: Resident Evil

Pairing: Leon Kennedy x Male Reader

Summary: Leon and Y/N have some underlying issues. Ones they tried to warn DSO about.

Content Warnings: None

Other Pairings: Luis Sera x Reader

Author Note(s): whoop whoop part five

Ada thinks it'll be fun.

It'll give her something to do besides be in and out of planes and cars and boats and a bar full of horny men and wasted women.

In her eyes, it will also be therapeutic for two love-scorned people who seem to be grappling and grinding on each other because of their own moronic emotions and stubborn attitudes.

What would it hurt?

She's already gathered the obvious.

–The obvious being Leon, that is. She could practically read it in the way he held his gun, the way his eyes twitched and how they looked at you. His gaze, a flash, but his behavior told her so many, many things.

The way his hands fiddled with it, the tapping of his left foot, the biting of his tongue. And you were oblivious. Moreso a side effect of you disliking the man than anything else. Because she knew you, she could see the skill in every wrinkle of your body. You were just a hardened, distrustful shell, and it was so cute. Two angry, headstrong people ready to bite the necks of anyone who entered their personal space. She was so giddy.

Pure bliss.

Excitement over cracking her dear Leon open like an egg.

All for you.

Her eyes flicker to you, then him, repeating, comparing. Analyzing and prying until finally, she rests back in the chair beside Luis and she's content, having already placed the seed of her diabolical plan.

"Luis. " She's almost gushing. "You got a map on the computer or something?"

He glances at her, and a broad smile comes across his face.

"Sí. Whatever you need. "

"Good. I have to go fetch something. "

She sees your eyebrow quirk towards her in curiousity. But you don't say much about it, your mouth occupied by a large bite of the sandwhich.

Before she heads out, she turns towards you and the words that escape her mouth cause the twitching of Leons trigger finger.

"I want you to come with me. "

"We have to go. " His tone is sharp and immediate, he doesn't allow room between her words and his. His eyes flicker quickly to yours. "I mean it, Y/N. "

Luis is shaking his head and you don't need words to tell Leon how you feel.

"We need to secure the area. If they aren't gonna find us, we have to try and find them. Otherwise, we're just waiting. "

"Then we wait. “

The words fly from your mouth like ninja stars.

"You expect to stay here longer than you have to?" Leon is aghast. "You got your rest. You've even ate. " He gestures to the plate. "Now let's go. "

"You want to walk back into the storm outside and spend the night out there when we have this?" Your arms spread outward. "What's the logic there, Leon? I mean, really, " you scoff, "what are we going to accomplish?"

"This isn't up for a vote, " Leon spits back, his head working, his tongue fumbling with how to explain to you that you're idiotic plan won't work. "We aren't waiting here to become dog food. “

"So sleeping in the woods solves that problem?"

"There isn't a better option. If they're aware of our presence and know we're with Luis, " he adds, "they're going to come hunting. "

"They haven't come yet, not even with everything, " a thumb rubs at a broken section of the thick wooden table. "Whatevers left of his crew is preoccupied trying to deal with the virus. "

"The calmer route will be to wait here. "

The sound of a new voice washes over you both.

Ada is about to take a step closer when Luis steps between her and you two, raising his hands, palms up, eyes wide. "Yo amigos, do you mind telling me what exactly is going on here?”

You both look at the taller man and his furrowed brow, attentive gaze. Ada has a bit of a smirk on her face, enjoying the dynamics.

It's only when Luis clicks his tongue and urges your attention do you answer.

"There's too much risk, with a lot of things. It's best we stay here. "

"Absolutely not. "

Leon talks almost immediately after you do, his words curt, and flat. Directly over yours.

Like you hadn't said anything to begin with.

"You do whatever the hell you want to, but we're not staying here to get gobbled up while you and Luis pal around, then use me as your shield when things go south. "

"You're so full of shit. " You spit back, your nerves crackling with energy.

His eyes are cool. "This isn't a democracy. “

"Neither is working for the fucking US government. "

Ada frowns a little bit at the outburst and her voice remains even.

"Try to relax. All of you. "

"Try this. " You gesture with a hand between yourself and Leon. "Assigning two people to bring back evidence of a potential new Bioweapon, and putting it on both of us is hard enough when you factor in all the shit trying to eat and kill us, " your hand is still up. "But the fact that one of these individuals is a glorified agent that's known for all but trying to get the drop on their partner isn't all that reassuring. “

Ada sees it. She sees it from Leon now. A crumbling, slowly as a boat losing its control over the waves in the ocean. The tightening of his lips, the firm set of his jaw, the quaking of his eyebrows.

And she sees you.

Recollecting. Repenting for one second as the heat radiates, scorching you alive from the inside out. You're embarrassed, hurt and even guilt is in there somewhere.

But it's not long.

Because your face is out of her view when you make headway for the door.

Ada's eyes widen ever-so slightly and the way Leon moves when you turn away. Like he's connected to you with a string and if he wants to let you go, he's gonna have to un-string himself first. It's in sync with Luis who gets up from his seat in an instant, his mouth opening to make verbal protests, to defuse.

But Adas hands are up, putting them both in pause like the press of a remote control button.

"Let him go. "

There's a mutual crease of foreheads and slack jaws.

"Ada. " The displeasure in Leon's voice is thick. Almost like smoke that fills the room and seems to get heavier and darker the longer time goes on.

She doesn't let him continue. "I'll go. Make sure he's safe. But you two– sit. "

Luis lowers himself first, without an ounce of fight, and Leon stays. His blue eyes pierce hers.

"He's volatile. " His tone is sharp.

She thinks about it a moment, how much truth to his statement. How far could you push him? How much shit could you feed to him until he really broke.

"He's not. " Ada admits. "Have you ever really spoken to your partner?" Her head tilts in a way that isn't a challenge, but curiosity, giving the impression that she wants him to think. "There's obviously a lot of information that has never been shared. "

"Didn't see you offering therapy sessions. " Leon spits.

Ada stares. Luis watches carefully, unsure how to react and unwilling to move.

Ada swallows like her throat is coated with tar, hardening her resolve. The expression she makes afterwards is one that almost physically sickens Leon.

It's patronizing.

Merciful.

She's looking at him like he's a child having a tantrum and not a man who had made hard choices since 1998.

"Oh, Leon. " Ada breathes the words out. She gives a slight shake of her head before moving on with her plan, feeling more confident in it as she gives Leon one last sympathetic look.

She hopes he can see the deeper meaning behind her look. How her eyes dip in sorrow, the way her features remain cool, untouched and not judgemental.

"It's not my job to play therapist. But if you'll allow, " she folds her hands neatly infront of her, "I'll see if I can not just secure him, but allow for a cooling off period between the two of you. "

"I don't care. "

"Sure you don't. " She gives him a quick wink before turning around, the sound of her footsteps against the tile becoming fainter and fainter.

He felt himself starting to get emotional, and suddenly, just as quickly as she appeared, she vanished again, going outside to fix a problem between two children with the capabilities to take down a large city.

#resident evil #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x male reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #luis sera x reader #luis sera x you #male reader #ada wong

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scentedpepper · 2 months

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Missions, Malaise and Migas Pt. IV | Leon Kennedy

Pt. 1 Pt. 2 Pt. 3 Pt. 5 Pt. 6 Pt. 7 Final Part

Fandom: Resident Evil

Pairing: Leon Kennedy x Male Reader

Summary: Leon and Y/N have some underlying issues. Ones they tried to warn DSO about.

Content Warnings: None

Other Pairings: Luis Sera x Reader

Author Note(s): I looked this over briefly in class 😥 ignore errors 🙏

It's sometime later that you open your eyes, not knowing how long it has been, but the lights in Luis' hotel are still glowing warm and your partner is sitting beside you, on the bed. You're not sure when your legs had made their way up onto the mattress, or when you'd turned on your side and laid with your hands placed together. All you know is that the bed is comfortable, the room is warm and the area is void.

Your gaze is blurred for a moment and the man is unaware of your consciousness until he can feel the bed move underneath him, ever so slightly.

His eyes raise to your body and stay fixed for a few seconds and he releases the sigh in his chest. You're not sure which part of this whole ordeal it's meant for, but you don't question it as your vision focuses on the table that's been pushed back up and the sandwich that sits atop it.

Your eyes begin to drift around the hotel room and you prop yourself on your elbows before Leon tells you to stop. His voice is much calmer than before. The anger is gone.

"He's out. Getting supplies for us with Ada. "

Your forearms crunch with the strain of your body and the weight you're pushing on them. There's a slight dip at the head of the bed and the feeling of his hand is soft yet firm when he presses your left arm down, putting you back in the position he found you.

"Rest. " He can't bring himself to say much more.

Your eyes close and the sigh that follows is tired. Tired, the way you always feel now. You wonder why he's here, why he hadn't gone with Ada and you wonder what time it even is. And if you're safe.

Of course, you aren't.

But that knowledge lays in the back of your mind for now, until it's ready to be disturbed again. Which, it inevitably will.

When you look at your partner, you're faced with his stony expression and he speaks before you even say anything.

"When they come, we leave. You don't wander off from me. When I point, you shoot. Understand?" Leon stares hard at you, his words sharp, direct and calculated like it all takes no thought.

You want to be civil. Really. You want to keep this new resonance of calm and you're too tried to rev the engines but– you're not his subordinate either. And you've never taken kindly to being spoken to as such.

Your need to take responsibility seems to evaporate and float out the window and before you know it, you're pushing yourself up from the bed and you're not speaking, not saying anything. Not even looking at him now, you just walk towards the bathroom door.

Leon watches your body twitch in protest at the sudden movement of your muscles and his lips press tightly together when you seem to just ignore it. The bruising on your lower back has turned a deep, ugly shade of purple and it's blotchy, painful.

It looks bad.

And you're still not moving slow enough. Not to him.

Leon shifts and he is there as your fingers turn the knob. Your head has whipped around when his hand almost covers your wrist, the heat of his fingers resting atop the bandages. His shoulders are slumped forward slightly and his free hand massages the back of his own neck, closing his eyes as he goes in to speak.

His voice is low and weary and it doesn't seem to hold the same weight it had before.

"Listen. "

"I don't have the patience. "

Your eyes close, you try to move in. To push the door open or shirk away, but both of your wills are too strong and instead your hand comes down hard on the metal of the bathroom knob.

"Are we doing this?" You ask.

"What, exactly?" Leon replies in a grave tone, the corners of his mouth curling downward. "Because it looks like you're avoiding the issue. "

Your brow raises. "Do you even know what the issue is?"

The question hits him like a brick and his jaw sets solidly. "Yes. " He states, emphasizing the last vowel, shifting in his spot before adding more. "I wasn't the one that went and took off in some stupid, blind fit of rage. "

You want to say something else, something more. It's on the tip of your tongue but with the little self control you have left, you don't. "The mission will be back on track, alright? Don't worry about it. " You try the door again. But, to no avail, so your head rolls on your neck, stretching the taught muscles.

"Not yet. " He replies and his hand flattens against the door as he pushes. "Look. We had a disagreement. Things get said. That's life. Now grow up, step up and do the job. " He stops for a second, keeping the door closed, seeing the way your left cheek hollows and flutters when you bite it, probably out of annoyance.

Then, something deeper sets into the creases of your face and it keeps coming, seeping like honey into the creases of your expression. He knows you're keeping something inside but you're hesitating and he's forcing it out.

"What?"

"You're an asshole, you know that, Kennedy?" The words pump out like oil seeping from a car. Disgusting, slippery and he doesn't want it on him. "Still the same one I met 10 months ago. "

It's like the clouds outside have taken his face and made his expression disappear like raindrops touch the Earth. There's surprise, but the rest is indefinite.

The sound of the broken door moving draws both of your attention away and makes the air stale. Shifting and fumbling and then Luis enters, still talking, still alive and Ada is following closely, a bag grasped in her hand.

"Mi amore! You can say you missed me now. " He's turning back around to fully enter and shut the door and he's being playful and doesn't seem to read the thick tides in the air.

"Hey. " You greet, softer than you've ever spoken to Leon.

You glance at Ada and you can tell she's analyzing the situation for what it is. Because it doesn't take a scientist to know something is not right between partners. Her eyes catch the way you guys are peeling away from each other, hands leaving the door and faces smoothing out as if to hide whatever words or heated looks you just exchanged and the act fools Luis. But not her. Never her.

Luis has stopped for a moment to hold your face and it's only after he gives you a quick peck on the cheek and starts talking to everyone does she see the relief for a moment on your face, the ease of posture and the slacking of the skin around your eyes.

Her attention is on Leon almost immediately after the interaction, and there she is, like a crow, watching. Circling. Picking apart the loose threads and the seams. She starts at his brows first, knowing if his facial muscles are tweaking, even the slightest, it's gonna be there. And it is. Subtle. An irritation. But there. He's trying to hide it, mask it. Keep it to himself.

She picks at his lips next. Thinner and pouty. Sealed tighter than ever before. Any information wanting to escape he's keeping very secret. Very private and held back.

But it'll show.

The way he holds his body language is a lot less expressive, his shoulder sags, so subtly if you weren't truly paying attention, you'd never know.

And his eyes follow, almost dance in uneven steps as they tread tactfully after Luis then follow you following Luis. Who is oblivious, but attentive, and carries the conversation to make up for your silence. She's got to admit, the man has character.

Her attention returns to Leon's gaze when he rolls them and then the way he's walking to stand towards the farthest wall across from you, still watching as you and Luis converse, the words flowing naturally, not all bunched up and jagged like yours and his.

Her focus hones into the twitch of his face.

He looks tired now, possibly regretful, the way his muscles are sagging and his skin is growing soft and melancholy at the creases, around the eyes.

But his jaw is still set and the blue is still resting on the two of you. Critiquing the details. The way your hands brush together as you pick items out, how Luis maneuvers past you with a soft hand on your back, how his warmth radiates when he stands within proximity. And the fact that you're actually receptive to this man has him twisted up.

The longer Leon focuses on your sudden bout of happiness, the more he wants to leave and turn away, let it flood over him.

But he stays there and he doesn't even notice the way Adas eyes are doing twirls and cartwheels over his features. His expression is on you and so is his brain, though he would never admit it.

She's noticed all the information she'll need. Her lips curl slightly at a thought as she unpacks the things from Luis satchel onto the counter.

Right here. In front of her eyes.

That even the man who's saved the world numerous times can't hide the fact that he's head over heels in love.

#resident evil #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x male reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #luis sera x reader #luis sera x you #male reader

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scentedpepper · 2 months

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Missions, Malaise and Migas Pt. III | Leon Kennedy

Pt. 1 Pt. 2 Pt. 4 Pt.5 Pt. 6 Pt. 7 Final Part

Fandom: Resident Evil

Pairing: Leon Kennedy x Male Reader

Summary: Leon and Y/N have some underlying issues. Ones they tried to warn DSO about.

Content Warnings: None

Other Pairings: Luis Sera x Reader

Author Note(s): Don't mind errors, I edited this half asleep

Things get less gender netrual here with he/him pronouns being used

The storm is back. The rain is pounding down on the window and you're not sure how much time has passed, only that the windows are practically fogged up now and Luis seems to have all the areas of your body that hurt wrapped up like a mummy.

You stay void of the areas that have bandages plastered to them as you wipe the grime from your body with a rag. When the water in the tub has turned a brown color you drain it and fill it halfways again, like a mop bucket.

The bathroom is silent other than the continous splash of soapy water and the scrubbing sound that emits from the rag moving too harshly against your skin. Your hair is damp, pushed back and out of your face.

And though you can hear Luis rummaging around in the other room and you can faintly smell something being cooked, it's not enough of a distraction to pull you away from your thoughts. It was stupid coming here without a word. You knew that. And you were dreading what would come after.

It was just a bad move.

Luis, bless his soul and his ability to set up a good atmosphere and help you feel comfortable, had taken to leaving you alone and making you ease into the change of setting. It would be rude not to appreciate it, or try to find a way to ask for his forgiveness instead.

You sigh, moving to sit on the edge of the tub, hands dipping into the water to unplug the drain and let the it escape. You step out after watching it swirl and swirl and swirl. But your movements feel slowed, as if the moment you step from this bathroom, your responsibilities come back to you. –Not that they ever left.

So you stay in there for a while, staring at yourself in the mirror. You comb through your hair with your fingers. More time than necessary is taken to check over everything. Some blotches and bags have formed underneath your eyes, tiredness seeping into your muscles, showing itself in different parts of you. It makes you annoyed. Wanting to leave, get your partner, go home.

"Mierda. " Luis cusses and you can only guess it's because he's burnt his finger on the skillet.

It's enough to move you away from your head and you reach for the boxers the man leant you without a second thought. You step into them slowly, and you pull them up even slower before settling on yourself in the mirror again, adjusting the waist band.

Your shoulder hurts and so do your hands, but everything else feels less stiff. You have one hand resting on the mirror as you gaze at yourself. More marks from various different missions litter your face. It wasn't unusual to forget what the normal you used to look like.

Your eyes are droopy, your features weighted with tiredness. But before you know it, they're changing, switching rapidly and you're grabbing your gun from the counter top. Suddenly, all your exhaustion is gone and you feel your body shoot to the exit like a missle.

Your eyes are wide when you burst through from the bathroom and your bare feet cause a crunch when you're left to stand on the door that's been knocked clean off its hinges laid in the middle of the walkway.

Your gun is up, arms outstretched the moment you turn the edge of the door frame and your finger is twitching at the trigger. You don't see anything at first, but when you pursue deeper into the room, your tense shoulders fall at the sight.

Luis is pressed against the wall, his hands are up in surrender, and there's a gun digging into the side of his turned face.

The food has been discarded, onto the floor, the skillets face down, the tables on its side.

Everything has gone to complete dissary in a matter of minuets.

"Where is he?" The voice is deep, angry and littered with resentment.

"Has interrumpido la cena, amigo. "

"In English. " The cold steel is pressing harder.

"Leon, let him go. " The words come out of your mouth with the breath you'd been holding.

The gun lowers so fast it may as well have turned back into air, never even been there at all. And you watch Luis retreat away from the opposing partner who has yet to even look at you, hands still raised in the air.

You're just standing there, near nudity, staring. Staring at the gradual lowering of Luis arms. Staring at Leon's back. Staring at Ada.

Staring at him.

When he finally turns around, his gaze moves straight to you before it darts over the bandages and all the bruises littered across your body. He's frozen at the sight of you and he keeps trailing all of your injuries but his face is unreadable.

His eyes go down your arm, stop at your ring. Flicker back up to the underwear.

"Put this on. " He says suddenly, jerking his upper body, and your eyes have already found the fabric flung towards you, plucked from your lost bag by the time his hand has released it.

You've already gathered that he's angry but this is no explosion and your eyebrows are creased in concern.

"How did-? " You ask cautiously and the last syllable of your sentence is barely heard as Leon turns his back to you.

"We're leaving. " He says bluntly and you hesitate a bit, slowly putting the pants on anyway.

"Leon, " its the beginning of Adas reasoning. "It's dark, we should wait out the storm. Your partner needs rest. " She shakes her head with a sigh. "Just look at him. "

As Ada refers to you, Leon's eyes stay solidly on her. You can see the muscles of his jaw clenching and unclenching. You can see him taking in a deep breath before addressing the situation. You can hear him when he speaks, when his eyes drill through anyone who looks at him.

"We have nowhere to go but forward. He'll have tough it out. “

Leon stares a bit longer, his words for you, for Ada, for Luis. He's just as emotionless when he's talking as when he was earlier and his fists clench and flex with the tense atmosphere he's created.

Leave it to Luis to never learn when to shut up.

"¿Perdón?" Luis takes one step forward. "He stumble in here, his poor body being bruised and broken. What were you doing in the moutains in the first place?" His hands are flat out, throwing questions the other man's way and the glare he receives only makes his eyes bigger, his movement more emphatic. "He has to rest! You want him dead?" His exclamations are fueled with exasperation.

Ada is not helping at all, staring silently and watching Leon out of the corner of her eye like she can tell what's about to happen.

"Don't be dense. You took his shirt off, didn't you?" The look on his face twists slightly, anger brewing, mixing with the other emotions that have started to surface. You've known him long enough you're able to read a few pages. "He doesn't need rest. " He squints. "He needs to get back in his gear and learn what it means to follow orders. "

That one gets you. It heats you to your core.

"Estúpido!" He grunts. "You won't even take the time to- to, " A hand gestures lazily. "take a moment and look at him. Look around you! " His hands swing wildly again.

Your face scrunches at the thought. "Luis. " You try to interject, huffing as you step forward, putting yourself more into his field of vision, but it doesn't work. They both ignore you all together.

"What's next, Captain? Hmmm?" He keeps rolling out with it. "This?" He swipes his forearm outwards, gesturing to your person. "Is this next? His death?" His hands bang together before gripping the air. "Another funeral you have to plan?"

That tears Leon apart. Splits him like paper. And the only way he can think to retaliate is with anger and harsh tones and the rebuttal comes from him almost faster than you can blink.

"Maybe if he could afford to listen! Maybe then, I won't have to push him so hard! To look at what his failures lead too!"

The accusation pisses you off more than anything has in a while.

"Leave. " You say and you're trying to keep things under wraps before they get more out of hand. The single word is pushed out fast and the way you're folding your arms over your chest helps you hide some of the hurt and the clenched expression you wish not to display.

Leon, stubborn and angry, doesn't listen.

"Yes, leave, hermano!" Luis insists.

"Maybe we should step out. " It's Ada speaking up now, her voice carrying a certain amount of calm and seriousness, but she makes no move to go, she simply addresses Leon.

Leon's reply is swift. "We have a mission. "

"Just to breathe. " She clarifys, holding the bridge of her nose, her lashes kissing and mingling together when she closes her eyes before she's sighing. "Why do we have to hold him prisoner? He looks like shit, Leon. " Her arm reaches to push her hair back.

A beat passes.

"Your mission can go to shit too. Like that. " She snaps her fingers in the air.

You know she's right, the both of you.

There's a silence that wafts over the air, like the calm before the storm, and you know it has hit Leon. That the words that have been spoken are sticking and he is analyzing all of them like a puzzle.

But he can't seem to muster up his next line and he's trudging out of the room, knocking his shoulder into yours.

Your face distorts into of pain as your left hand grapples where he'd hit you, the fresh relocation of your shoulder tender and sore.

Ada inhales, looking away for a moment and rubbing her brow again before she follows Leon.

The click of her heels pause when she gets to your side and her hand is resting on top of yours, her painted fingers far gentler than the current hold you have on your shoulder. "It was bad, wasn't it?" She asks and her eyes are fixated on her hand like it knows the answer better than her own mouth.

It was and she can see that without having to question you, but neither one of you press for further elaboration.

"I'll bring your boy back more reasonable, don't worry. " She beckons and her hand flits from you.

Luis is talking out his concern as he follows her, probably to put the door back up, waving his hands over his head, turning around abruptly, saying something in Spanish as he points at you. You can't make out half of it, but you believe it to be more exasperation.

The sound of the door being placed back in its frame is loud and chaotic and under normal circumstances you probably would've laughed at the lanky man. But it all feels like white noise right now. Your feet take you to the bedside and your body feels as heavy as a brick.

You let out a hefty puff, your fingers rubbing against your eyes until Luis' footsteps near closer and he is clasping your chin. You're already turned up to stare at him, eyes trained into his warm gaze.

"Mi amor. I'm sorry. " He states and you shake your head as his hand trails up your bandaged one, his skin touching you. He lays his fingers on the split of your palm.

"No big deal. " You dismiss but your voice doesn't meet your words.

"Lo es. " It's quiet and it's a hiss. He disagrees, even though, at this point, you're not sure if he understands you've brought this upon yourself. He starts to say more and the small laugh that's escaped his lips comes out halfway through. "You two so stupid. "

He's amused now, and you can't really help the small smile that warms your lips. He leans in slightly to place a lingering kiss on your forehead, the feel of his soft, brown strands falling onto you.

The creases of his eyes soften after a moment and he retracts his hands, sitting beside you on the edge.

"I fix some food. " He resumes and his steps are bouncy and upbeat this time, like the problem has already been rectified. "Simple. Because sancho..." He gestures to the fallen food on the floor, his tongue clicking.

He is so unbothered.

You feel like this was his intention the whole time. To get you smiling, which you're sure doesn't happen enough when you're not around him.

You give a half nod in response.

"You eat?" Luis is quick to fill the air.

"Two days. " You reply.

He scoffs slightly, pausing for a moment in the kitchen area.

"Grow your waist line, sweetpea. No time to lose. "

A small, rumbling laugh rolls in your throat. It's soft and nonchalant and your head is hanging, eyes closed for a moment. But you feel a little bit lighter after it.

"Now, you are tired. " Luis says.

"Luis. "

"Shhh. "

Your head rises to look at him and it hurts your neck to keep your gaze elevated but he's so matter of fact about everything it makes you roll your eyes and huff, laying back on his bed. Just for a moment. Just to rest.

"You sleep. Don't let him bother you. "

"Mmm. " You slur.

Luis looks over you when he turns, placing something back in the fridge. You're fighting the weariness, keeping your eyes open, watching his movements. He's humming to himself and re-stacking papers that had fallen when the door had been sent through the air moments before.

You fight it, but the sweet hum of a song you don't know begins to lull you, send you drifting. It was so nice to just stop for a moment. It was so nice to find Luis, a home, even if it was temporary, a place that could feel friendly while the world around you was turning without end, an uncontrollable amount of death and destruction looming.

So you fall, with the final note of his melody in your ears, asleep on the brink of the end of the world.

#resident evil #leon kennedy x male reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x reader #luis sera x you #luis sera x reader #luis sera x male reader #ada wong #angst

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scentedpepper · 2 months

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Missions, Malaise and Migas Pt. II | Leon Kennedy

Pt. 1 Pt. 3 Pt. 4 Pt. 5 Pt. 6 Pt. 7 Final Part

Fandom: Resident Evil

Pairing: Leon Kennedy x Male Reader

Summary: Leon and Y/N have some underlying issues. Ones they tried to warn DSO about.

Content Warnings: None

Other Pairings: Luis Sera x Reader

Authors Note: Sorry if the Spanish is inaccurate 😥 I've been white washed

Feel free to correct me

This one's still quite gender netrual other than one masculine term being used by Luis

I'm typing and copying pasting all this out again as we speak because tumblr closed on me and didn't save ☺️

"Hold still. "

Red was leaking through the wound covering your forearm and staining your sleeves. It was beginning to slow to a stop, the stinging and burning yet to subside. Luis' hands continued to tremble, looking much too weary as he pressed a small towel that, after a while, had grown warm against your skin. Blood had begun to absorb into its once clean white surface until it dripped.

Luis' fingers had turned a crimson color, more red than olive.

It was unnerving, knowing that your injuries had caused him so much distress. So much distress that his hand went to scrub against his forehead and then brought up to squeeze the bridge of his nose while shutting his eyes closed.

His brow hadn't unknit itself from the moment you showed up at his doorstep, clad in dirt and blood asking if he had any medical supplies.

You didn't explain the part where you'd fallen through a shit load of trees nor that you were here with Leon on a mission and he lost your supply bag during the fall.

You tread discreetly through the edges of the town when you found yourself growing increasingly impatient waiting around in the rain for him and Ada after they'd gone off to look for it.

Who other then the man you'd shared messages with from across the world to patch you up?

And, oh, the way he does.

You blink down at your wound as you're settled on the counter in his hotel room with his back half turned to you. He'd done your arm first in his worry but you've had deeper lacerations, so you didn't bat an eye in the same way he did.

He was checking up the left of your body now, with hands so careful against your bare skin you hardly felt his touch as his dainty, latex covered fingers tapped every centimeter of the underside of your arm, earning no flinch nor words of complaint from you despite the heavy bruising that was already occurring.

It was then that his body leaned further into yours and he was dabbing something against one of the larger wounds. It smelled sharply of alcohol and stung briefly, before going mostly numb.

It's very strange, the feeling.

He seemed to be saving your dislocated shoulder for last. The dread etched on his features telling you he wanted to avoid hurting you more than you already looked.

He was quieter than you were used to. Like the sight of you had sent him into a permanent shock. The most reaction he'd had was the hand that had covered his mouth when you showed up and he didn't hesitate to usher you into his room. He didn't need answers. Not right now.

But you, you were beginning to become unsettled by his silence and your constant shifting showed it. You wondered if you were overstepping when you showed up like this. If the friendship over messages hadn't quite translated to real life friendships and helping strangers didn't fit in the spectrum.

Your stomach churned at the thought and your face scrunched uncomfortably, unnoticed by Luis.

Until it was.

"Pain?" He finally asks.

"No. " Is what you answer as your nose wrinkles again and Luis comes out of his bent stance, moving away from examining your ribs and he stares at you for a moment, two.

He doesn't say anything right away.

"...no puedo adivinar tu cerebro."

Luis speaks in Spanish, which isn't abnormal and you'd gotten used to it fairly quickly.

And the that term, well, you've found him using it often with you. 'No puedo adivinat tu cerebro. ' I can't read your brain.

You'd look it up one day on your phone when you got service but when you had it translated it came back with something along the lines of: I can't figure you out.

I can't figure you out.

Your nose scrunches again, the breath in your lungs shuffling.

It feels funny to hear it from him in person now.

You look back up to him, meet his gaze of confusion with your own, eyebrows rising momentarily. The corners of his lips are pulled downwards, lines marring the corners. You feel the temperature around you rise but can't focus on anything else but him. He almost looks hurt, as if one day the you in front of him would just... subside.

"Can I ask..." He licks his lips with a long stripe and then bites the inside of his cheek as he continues to rummage through his bag. "Why you are here?"

He almost seems unsure, of whether he should even ask the question as he busies himself with grabbing another rag from his bag. It's only after he's wiping the blood from your arm and going onto a different bottle does he look up, expectant.

But you're shifting again and you're not looking at him so realizes perhaps it was the wrong thing to say. His brows knit again and he's uncomfortable with the lack of usual lightheartedness between you two. The flirting, the jokes. Nothing like this.

He speaks again. To soften his words? "Is good that you have come here, to the town. "

His voice is level, clear. His hand reaches under your chin and you wince but at least let him tilt your head back and center. So you're looking at him again.

You sigh, not at him, or the situation but yourself.

"I'm on a mission. " You clarify but it doesn't fully answer his question and you wait for him to prod. He does.

"Here?"

"Mhm. " You hum in response. "And well‐ things went a little astray when I fell off the side of a moutain. " Your cheeks puff out slightly.

There's a small pause.

"A moutain?"

He offers you a cautious grin and for a moment he thinks you're joking.

But then your eyes meet and you nod your head and an incredulous look is on his face.

"A moutain?" It's an exclamation of disbelief this time. "Miente. Are you sure?"

Your lip quirks up at him, the smile on his face still has yet to fade, his tone turning a touch playful at your confession.

You let out a small laugh. "I'm sure. –And some trees. " You add and that would explain the bruises scattered across your skin like the dirt you were constantly covered in.

"How many trees?"

"A shit ton. " You say softly, watching as his soft fingertips have begun to slide in circles on your knee.

"We were meant to go up it– me and Leon- but then the rain started and things went bad from there. "

"Sancho?" A tone of recognition comes on his voice and he looks around the room as if Leon might suddenly appear. And then he whips back around to you and the words on his tongue feel forbidden. "Is Leon...?" He looks more scared than he had when you walked in and you shake your hands immediately.

"No, no. He's well. –Better than me. " Luis doesn't miss the roll of your eyes. "Ada. " You announce. "She must've plucked him out of the air when we were falling. " You scratch at your temple and shrug your good shoulder.

Again, his hand is massaging in circles over the bone on the underside of your knee. The touch feels good. Better than the throbbing all over you.

"And you, querido?" Luis prods. "Who came and plucked you from the moutains?"

"Uh‐ well the trees mostly. Then Leon. Eventually. "

"Bueno. " He purses his lips, nods once. His eyes crinkle like that and they seem to get lighter before the wrinkles on his forehead return. "Where is he now?"

"He's off. With Ada. "

His hands move to your vest and he begins undoing the straps. Your shirt underneath is drenched and he's already cut the left sleeve when he stitched you back together. "¿Por que?"

"He dropped our supply bag during the fall, I needed the bandaging so they went searching. "

This makes him stop and take one more worried look at you before he tilts his head. "He know you're here?"

You shake your head and your lips press together as the weight of your impulsiveness sits on you. Not knowing where you were is nerve wrecking for your partner, you know that. It was for you. But being so reckless, pushing for your own desires and storming off on him was something beyond how you normally functioned.

The circumstances of your relationship had really been flipped on its head lately. And you couldn't say if it was ever going to be fixed.

You hear Luis sigh and he finally moves the vest over your head.

"No tienes ningún respeto por tu vida. "

You're not sure what those words mean but the tone of the reprimand has you tilting your head just a bit and catching his eyes when his hands stop at the collar of your wet shirt.

You tilt your head further, eyeing him.

Luis sniffs a laugh.

"Have you no respect for your life?" He translates and you quirk a brow at him.

"Sometimes. " You shrug.

"Enough. " You insist when he gives you a pointed look.

"But not when you walk off in random towns. "

The roll of your eyes is present this time.

"I needed medical attention. "

You hear the snipping of the scissors, the noise gradually descending to the hem of your shirt.

His hand lingers a bit. Stops moving. The criss-cross net of muscles on your stomach comes into view and he swallows down whatever words he wants to say. Just staring.

And then a smirk rises onto his face as the light bulb of wit goes off in his head, registering the next thing to say about your toned body.

His lashes move in a flirtatious manner and a hand drapes on your thigh gently. His smirk deepens.

"And you need me. "

A snort is let loose, the tension in your body breaking around you as you shake your head and rub your brow.

"Relax. " You say with the words stretched out and you use your finger to push his chest.

Luis doesn't complain about it.

"Bueno, bueno. " He insists upon before the tip of his tongue darts to his top lip and he's trying to untangle you further from your clothes, going farther down your back. "Solo te quiero ver bien. "

You turn your head, only recognizing bien.

"Gotta repeat it for me, bicho. "

Luis doesn't respond, just smiles so big it reaches his eyes. He makes eye contact again.

"I said I want to only see you well. "

You wave him off. "I'm well. " You tell him but he looks you over before rolling his eyes.

"Here. " He gestures to your lower half and you undo the belt that holds all your guns and knives alike.

He gives you his hands to steady yourself as he helps you rise from your perch on the counter and eventually you're stepping out of your shoes as you shed the rest of your clothes. You grimace because your body throbs in disagreement and your hand is burning again when Luis grabs on.

Your pants are shuffled down to your ankles when he turns your hand over and sees the dried blood, the peeled back skin. "Mi amor, ay. "

"Rope. " You retort, using your feet to pull your pants off the rest of the way. "Grabbed mine a few times on the way down. "

"Ay. Turn. " He says and you shoot him a confused look while you do so, unaware of half the scrapes and knots and bruises on your body.

He clicks his tongue, noticing another gash on your leg that needs stitching. "Pobrecito. " He mutters to himself and you're not sure you heard him correctly.

"I'm not fragile. " You remind him and its clearly a rebuttal because he simply agrees.

"Me disculpo. " The tips of his fingers are featherlight as he gets on one knee to wipe the blood from the back of your thigh.

"Next time you fall from moutain? No more falling. Estaba muy asustado. " He shoots you a look that tells you that yeah, he's being serious.

You sigh as he stands back up to grab stitching material.

"No more falling. " You agree.

#resident evil #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy #luis sera #luis sera x reader #luis sera x you #male reader #leon kennedy x male reader

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scentedpepper · 2 months

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Missions, Malaise and Migas Pt. I | Leon Kennedy

Pt. 2 Pt. 3 Pt. 4 Pt. 5 Pt. 6 Pt. 7 Final Part

Fandom: Resident Evil

Pairing: Leon Kennedy x Male Reader

Summary: Leon and Y/N have some underlying issues. Ones they tried to warn DSO about.

Content Warnings: None (?) see below

Other Pairings: Luis Sera x Reader [not 'til pt. 2]

Author Note(s): Guys, let's note RE is a game where big monster throws you into wall and you eat herb to heal. This idea is very much so present here however, I wanted to incorporate some realism as well while still maintaining that superhuman feeling to y/n.

This is again targeted at male readers because they don't get enough attention BUT you can pretty much still read it despite your gender!!

This takes place AFTER the mission to rescue Ashley but not too long after.

There's pretty much no content warnings for this one other then like description of injuries.

Oh, also Luis is alive in pt.2 because I love him

You can't remember the last time in the past four months when you'd actually been able to breathe.

Every inhale had been choked with spores, filled with the odors of infection and death; every exhale had brought on chills, fearing what genetic monstrosity might rise up behind you.

You'd be a fool to think that sitting back in your cot, against a tree, some abandoned building wall or even within the warmth of DSO headquarters would grant you it. A deep inhale. A calming expansion of your lungs.

Because there was your partner, Leon S. Kennedy, butting his head. Like the virus scratching up your insides, clawing to the top until it etched its fingernails against the walls of your throat and brought upon a sharp, painful cough.

It's been nearly a year now. 10 months and a half. And you weren't sure if this was like the phase married couples went through where the adoration melted and was replaced by hot pits of lava and fire shooting out your mouth with every word or– well, there was no or. That just seemed to be where you and Leon sat, in limbo, glaring at each other from across the rope.

Only good thing about ropes was climbing them. Scaling it up to get the advantage, bring him down so you could win. Everything was a game with you two, always had been. Didn't know when it started but knew when the tension began to boil over.

Maybe you should've seen it. Hell, with the way you two complained to your superior for a partner switch –or rather no partner at all– you should've expected. Expected it like you expect a high-speed car to mangle your body after deliberately stepping into its path.

That's what it felt like sometimes with you two. A car crash.

When you first met, you were like two dull kitchen knives being pressed and sliced against each other until an edge formed. Sure, the rough, uncut, jagged edge hurt with every prick and prod but it was the start to a bond. And then you were learning to work the edges on each other's weapons to ensure a lethal and clean cut. —Until, you weren't.

He was civil enough in the beginning —and so were you.

But when things began to slip into that weird, unspoken comfortableness of having a missions partner. The one where you find yourself up shits creek together, bathing in lakes and rivers and showering under the rain together. The one where your hearts are sewn intricately within each others and the responsibility of one another's lives rest against your shoulders.

That one.

That's when things began to slowly unravel for you and Leon.

And now you were here.

Free falling from the side of a mountain.

Deeper and deeper.

Winding, swirling, spinning.

And you're grasping. Grasping for the rope like Leon is.

Your fingers graze it, trap it, and you fight to ignore the razor sharp burn of it against your palms.

But your body isn't stilling yet, and your grip isn't strong enough, and you're being slammed into the harsh rock of the mountain.

It falls again.

This happens two more times over.

And on the last, you're holding on for much, much longer and you almost believe you're stable when your eyes begin searching for your partner.

He's gone.

The ropes blowing in the wind.

He's gone.

Your eyes move rapidly, panicked but before you can do much of anything the wind catches up to you again and your body is crashing right back into the mountain side.

Upon collision, you lose your grip and you're plummeting.

You don't have time to think about your partner as your raw hand clamps down on the rope for the fourth time. Your red palms leave your life line stained and your grip slippery but the blood, or the wind, or the friction, or the speed, or even the rain isn't what sends you fumbling in the air like a baby bird this time.

There's a pop. A sick crunch.

You don't hear it over the rain and wind and the beat of your own heart.

But you feel it.

The pain isn't delayed. It's hot and sharp and sends an immediate chorus of curses from your mouth as your arm goes limp. No grip. Nothing.

You have nothing.

Your body is in gravity's hands. You can't reach the rope. And your right arm is flailing in the wind like a deflated balloon of some sort.

The trees come on quickly.

But for a long moment you stare at the wall you had so harshly collided into, disorientated, your body shifting and swaying with the rushing of the wind.

In another moment, you think there's hands on you.

Frantic and needing, fighting for balance, fighting to save you.

But they're only your own.

And you're ignoring the slight pain that slips through the pump of your adrenaline as you fight against the wind to grab your right arm and tuck it beneath your chest.

Your body curls in on itself, your head tucks into your knees and your free arm wraps around the top of your head, securing yourself into place.

For seconds that feel too long, there's nothing but the rush of wind in your ears and it's almost peaceful. Like floating, drifting, basking.

But then your body is crashing violently, violently through the trees, through a bunch of saplings. Your ears pick up on their snapping, crunching, –it's fleeting. Your body's slowing down considerably but the ground hasn't met you yet. The weight is shifting, your body is jerking and dipping destructively and suddenly, your stomach feels unsettled.

But then you go still. Completely.

The rain stops.

The wind stops.

It's for two seconds, maybe three. Then your ears cut back into reality and your eyes peel open and you find yourself on an enormous branch, right in the crook of its "elbow" so to say. Your body bounces up, nearly slips from the spot, but your left arm shoots out, tightens and your knuckles turn white.

It's not enough.

You're slipping.

Fingers dancing over the wet tree bark as you begin to lose your balance completely, unable to spread yourself out enough because of your hurt arm. You fight but you fall, landing hard on the next branch below. And the next one beneath it.

Violent coughs threaten to bubble through your throat with the impact but you push them down. Because right now pain is a good thing. Means that everything is alive.

Your back feels like it might snap in half if you hit one more branch. So you opt for your stomach and maybe then you can brace yourself, grab something, anything.

Your ribs make contact first. Your body twirls. Not an inch unscathed.

Again and again, you meet with the branches until you fear that it may never end.

But then there's warmth. It's enveloping you and for a moment you think it's your own blood. Or the air being knocked from your lungs when your body finally lands in its final resting spot.

No.

These arms...

"Reach, to the side!"

There it is.

A small bit of bark you can snatch.

You latch onto it, press yourself against the tree.

"Alright, I got you. " Leon whispers above you but it feels too far away as you allow your left arm to slacken, resting the rest of your weight on the tree.

"Shoulder?"

He's asking about the limp, near useless thing that was hanging by your side. You open your mouth to respond, not with much success. The movement nearly cuts it off.

"Yes..." The word forces itself out, strained and bitter. And then you're shaking your head and swallowing past the lump in your throat. "No, I think it's dislocated. "

"Can you manage?" His assessment of you is quick.

"I can't move it. " You spit out and your words are still breathless. Winded. With your face buried in the tree bark, one cheek against the cool, rough surface, you scoff, "Don't think 'm goin' anywhere. "

You want to laugh. But there's nothing funny about this. Just empty air and a thick heat that seems to be simmering between the two of you. The tension is threatening to spill.

"Stay here. "

His voice is too far. His weight is leaving your branch. And your fingers grab ahold of the fabric of his sleeve.

"Where're you going?"

Leon hesitates.

"Ada can help us. "

Your breath whips back into your body.

"Ada?" You question and your eyes are searching, really taking him in now. His form. The rain has soaked him. His breathing is just as heavy. His jacket has the largest tear down the side, the lining popping at the seams and tucked into his waistband is a hookshot. Adas.

"When the fuck did Ada get here?" Your tone is one of bewilderment as you stare at your partner and finally put together how he went so unscathed.

"Back on the mountain. "

"Shes been following us you?" You inquire.

"I didn't realize she was there until she was grabbing me out the air. "

"For a top agent, you got shit on her, Leon. "

It's out of your mouth in a hurry, a slap to the face. It's anger on your part. You turn your cheek against the tree and your eyes focus on the town, not Leon.

You hold grudges. Not that he knew the reason for this one.

He's silent for a moment, his anger seeping through it as he scans the surrounding area. Looking for Ada, no doubt.

But in a little voice he hums a retort.

"Could say the same thing for you. "

Your head snaps up, cheek no longer nursing the rough grooves and ridges in the bark.

"'Scuse me?”

He's quiet again.

"Oh, you don't have some bitch-ass comment to make?"

"Are we really fighting right now?" He looks at your with narrowed eyes and whip of emphasis on his tongue.

"I'm just speaking in a language I've only ever known with you. "

"What does that mean?" He says, turning his attention on you full now.

"Don't act all almighty, Kennedy. I've treated you a hell of a lot better than you have me. ”

"Oh, my bad. What am I? Your husband?" The annoyance is obvious. His voice grows sharp and jabs at your neck as if threatening to slit it. "Because the whole relationship rule to the game is when you see the one person you hate in this godforsaken town you fucking say it. "

You say nothing.

It strikes a chord in you. Rocks you.

But you light like gasoline at what he's referencing and you're opening your mouth again.

"I don't hate Luis. " You spit it out before your voice falls flat and its like a cool cord wrapping around his neck and choking him.

He makes a noise of bewilderment and his mouth falls open.

"I–" His words catch on his tongue as his adam's apple bobs in his throat.

His eyes search for yours, dark and boring into them with a burning intensity that nearly turns your insides out. Or maybe that's your adrenaline. You're not sure.

"I'm getting Ada. " It's final.

And then he's slipping down the tree without a sound. Just him. Your teeth grit into each other, hand clinging to the tree bark.

You and Leon. Tearing at each other like it's a five dollar shirt.

#resident evil #leon kennedy #angst #male reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #luis sera x reader

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scentedpepper · 7 months

Note

Do u smell -ftom max

actually yeah hitting that day 3 mark 😔✊️

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scentedpepper · 7 months

Note

Do u have a pet dog pet hamser ? Soketimes

yeah you don't forget xoxo grandma

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scentedpepper · 11 months

Text

A Favor | Vance Hopper

Fandom: The Black Phone

Pairing: Vance Hopper x Alt!Male Reader

Summary: Vance and Reader have an interesting dynamic. One where the line between friendship and something more can quickly become blurred.

Content Warnings: Implied Child Abuse, Implied Drug/Alcohol Abuse, Homophobic Slurs

Author Note(s): No Grabber Au

The first thought that entered his mind when he opened his eyes to the pitch blackness of his living room was rather more a feeling. Cold. It was cold. Whatever he was laying on was cold. The floor. The tile. It was cold.

He could feel the sweet twinge of pain welcome him like a venus fly trap into the gape of its mouth as he lifted his head from the ground. The sudden shift in his position seemed to trigger an onset of throbs to the forefront and back of his skull. And as his brain kicked into a higher functioning state, he abruptly became aware of how he'd ended up here —and the rest of the pain in his body. His confusion ceased.

He sat amongst the dark for a moment. Trying to gather himself and the will to stand up because sitting had his arms shaking and his breath taken out of his body. He huffed a hot cloud as he settled one of his hands against the couch, mentally preparing himself for whatever ache, in whatever place of his body might come next. Then, when he got the willpower, he gripped the couch tighter and reeled himself off the ground.

He grinded his teeth together as he took on another wave of pain from his torso that he wasn't quite content with placing it at his ribs in fear of them being broken. But he saved the locating of his wounds for later. It wasn't like he could see in the first place. The living room was pitch black, the entire house was.

Well, that was until the door farthest down the hallway squeaked open, leaking light into the air and making him freeze on the spot. He stayed silent as footsteps promptly followed the invasion of light, holding his breath, his body ridgid and glued to one spot against the wall. He didn't know what time it was. How long the moon had replaced the sun in the sky. But he did know that there was only ever one other person in this forlorn home.

Beside the occasional too loud, too long hookup, house party, or drug sesh the house was always empty.

Just him and his father.

And that's whose heavy footsteps were coming down the hall right now. That's who scratched his belly as he walked by. That's whose fist still had blood on it. That's who was headed for the kitchen. That's who walked by without a glance in his direction. Thankfully.

He exhaled.

He removed his weight from the wall beside the couch and ventured- limped towards the front door. He grasped the cold knob as glasses shook and clanked together in the fridge. He closed the door quietly behind him, drowning out the sound of his overly loud father, and he slugged his way down the stairs of the porch before a more welcoming, flat surface grasped his feet.

The night air was warm. Too warm for his liking. And without a breeze, by the time he ended up at that house, the pits of his shirt were stained and there was sweat wetting the neck of his hair.

He was out of breath as he rounded the house that he found himself more familiar with than he wanted to be. He made a mess out of the flower pot on the left, dirt scattered, collecting in his wounded knuckles. He dug around until the ends of his dried fingers made contact with the cool metal of a key. And then he promptly stuck it into the door, twisting and turning then pulling, tracking in dust he knew the unruly boy inside would complain about later.

He tried to quiet the heaviness of his boots as he made his way through the layout of the house by memory. He couldn't be sure who was home right now. But he knew someone would have to suffer the consequences. So he went slowly. Bit by bit. Using the wall as a crutch.

His hand seemed to grab the handle of the door- his door almost eagerly yet, with hesitancy. Somewhere inside of him, he felt the boundaries of their dynamic being pushed. The rules to their back and forth being tested. And he would've followed the advise of the big and bold "FUCK OFF" scribbled onto the door with black sharpie if it wasn't for the way the curly headed boy jumped out of bed the moment he heard the god awful squeak of it's hinges.

He knew Vance was paranoid —but jesus christ.

"I've never seen anybody grab a knife so fast. "

He looked like a deranged animal with his blonde hair all fuzzy and hanging in his face. His blue eyes in a craze, any sense of weary from his previous state of sleep diminished.

His voice came out more strained than he expected and beyond the dark there was a slight change in Vances face. The shadow of his body shifted and he slid the door of his closet all the way open, letting the light in fully. It created a warm glow around Vances figure, some of which leaked onto the others face. The contrast of their eyes met.

"Y/N?"

He watched as Vance's body lessened in tension, shoulders dropping and the grasp around his switch blade subsided.

"You owe me, right?"

"Yeah but what the fuck? It's fucking two in the morning. " The irritableness that everyone was all too familiar with seeped back into his voice. Any sound of confusion or alarm nonexistent now. "Are you stupid or-" But his quick mouth cut off when the bedroom light flicked on suddenly, revealing the state of his acquaintance.

"Holy fuck. " His eyes scanned over the tallers body. "Who fucked you up?" There was a slight amusement to his tone. But he couldn't grasp the flatline of his face. Or why there wasn't an immediate hateful retort to his comment.

He took the silence he received as a beckon to head for the bathroom.

"No one's home. " His voice called back from across the hall. "Don't worry about the noise. "

There was relief to be felt in that sentence and he trudged into the bathroom much louder than before.

"You're limping too?" Vance took notice when he caught sight of him in the mirror.

"Isn't that clear?"

There it was. That sarcasm. That hostility.

Most people generally avoided pissing off or testing Vance Hopper. –But he was a different story. People often deemed him an outcast. A good for no one, loser who was only valued for the drugs he supplied. Even after being in the same highschool for three years, he still caught strange looks from people, and if they were brave enough, they'd insult him. All because he had metal in his face and his wardrobe mostly consisted of dark clothing and because he kept his hair dyed a striking red.

He got mixed reactions from people. Not that any of them were ever any good. No. Just that some were simply too intimated to be caught dead looking in his general direction and others would spit out the classic 'Faggot!' if they thought it fit. –But that only happened when he wore eyeliner. He got used to not caring about it. It was a lame insult. He wasn't gay and he never would be. He knew that.

He also knew so long as he wore it, he'd face the consequences. The same way his usual appearance faced the consequences. Yet, he struggled to anticipate being stuck in a bathroom with Vance Hopper all over a smudge of black on his waterline.

"Stop moving. " Vance hissed. Impatient with the scrunch of his face as he wiped away blood.

"Well maybe if you would stop being so damn aggressive for two sec- Ow! You son of a bitch!"

The abrupt increase of pressure on his cheek wound made the boy situated on top of the counter shout on in pain.

"See. That's what your dumbass gets for moving around so much. " Vance shot back immediately, the amusement in his voice from before returning.

"Fuckin' hell. " He muttered, planting his hand against Vance's chest and pushing the boy backwards. "I need a dri-" But as soon as he jumped off the counter he felt his words choke him in the back of his throat and his teeth ground against each other so hard it was enough to cause an ache in his jaw.

He'd seemingly forgotten of the injured state of his ankle until he slammed against it full force. The pressure sent an abrupt strain of agony on his face and he felt his leg giving out beneath. The heel of his foot felt as if it was going to burst and he needed to support himself. His immediate instinct was to rapidly reach out for whatever was in front of him and that 'whatever' happened to be Vance.

His face was pressed against his chest before he even knew what was going on. He could feel Vance's arm wrap around his back, hand squeezing into his shoulder as he pulled the boy upright and held him close.

The weight of his body on his ankle made him gasp out in pain. His mouth was open and the noises that were meant to be words never really formed into anything intelligible. His vision blurred and he felt himself lose focus for a second. His arms gripped the material of the others shirt tightly as he steadied himself. The action also served to help stabilize him as Vance lowered him onto the edge of the counter. He grabbed at the side of the sink for purchase and when he looked up he realized Vance was still right in front of him.

There was no immediate look of concern, but he saw it. It was written on his face, like it was being teleported from a text book and onto the others features. But what came out of his mouth instead was something you'd exactly expect. "You're a fucking moron, you know that?"

It was his usual condescending tone. The one that got under his skin and made him want to punch the smirk right off of his face. And the way it seemed to raise an eyebrow was enough to send the anger surging through his body.

"Go to hell. " Was all he managed in his disheveled state. His hands still gripping the countertop as he leaned all his weight against his right foot.

Vance huffed and crossed his arms in front of his chest, he was trying so hard to keep the distance between them that his legs were uncomfortably pressed up against the toilet behind him. "You think I want to be in here cleaning up your shit when I could be sleeping?"

He looked at him and for a second, eyes trailing over every detail on the others face.

His eyelids were heavy with sleep and the bags under them seemed to make his blue eyes pop more than usual. The strands of hair that framed his face weren't quite as greasy as they usually were and they seemed softer somehow. His brows were relaxed as if he wasn't fazed by anything right now despite how aggressive sounding he was. The shirt he was wearing was a simple, black V-neck and Vace thought he was probably going to make fun of it for looking old until he realized his own shirt was practically hanging off of him and the sleeve of his jeans were frayed at the ends.

He looked back up at his eyes. His voice low as he spoke up. "I'm sorry for waking you up."

He didn't know how else to respond, so he just stared. It was the last thing he was expecting from the redhead and he certainly couldn't explain to you why his heart seemed to pound at the sound of his helpless voice.

He didn't have any intentions of coming over here. But once he realized he couldn't sleep with the throb of his ribs and the ache of his ankle, he knew there was no point in trying to doze off in the comfort of his bedroom. He didn't want to walk the way across town to find somewhere to crash. So when he realized that the house would be empty and Vance probably wouldn't be able to sleep, he knew there was no better option.

He watched him scratch the back of his neck and let out a sigh. "So why were you bleeding all over my back porch anyways? " Vance spoke up, the tension of his body returning as he waited for an explanation.

He wasn't exactly in the mood to talk about what happened tonight. Especially with this kid. The thought of telling him about how he was just on the floor in his living room made him want to run away. So he gave him the easiest answer he could think of. "Got in a fight."

His gaze followed him as he reached into the medicine cabinet. He could hear him shuffle through the contents, closing the door, and then opening the cabinet right next to it.

"At 2:00 in the morning?" Vance questioned. He wasn't the brightest but he sure as hell wasn't stupid.

"Why do you care?" His fingers wrapped around the edge of the counter tighter this time and lifted himself back onto it, losing the thought of a beer from the fridge all together at Vance's sudden inquiry.

"I don't. " Vance snapped back immediately, letting the cap of the ointment fall from his hand. He turned around to face him, meeting his gaze. "I just don't wanna deal with your bullshit right now."

His jaw tightened and he leaned towards him, bringing his face close to Vance's and spitting out his retort with enough ferocity to make him falter. "Fuck you."

Vance's brows twitched and the momentary flinch in his eye was all he needed to keep up the momentum.

"Don't talk to me like you're some fucking hero. Don't act like you've got any kind of empathy or sympathy. You don't know shit about me. " He paused, digging his nails into his palm as he spoke, keeping his voice low so as to not give away the rage that was surging in his veins.

"I've seen the way you look at me. It's a good fucking joke, Vance. How you try to act like you don't give a shit but I know you do. " His fingers started to twitch at his sides and he let them run over the lose skin of his nails, picking and pulling. He didn't know if it was factual or more of a sorry attempt to convince himself someone might care. "You're just like everyone else. " The last part came out quieter than the rest, like it was more so meant to be a mutter that his helper didn't acknowledge.

Vance simply couldn't understand where all this was coming from. Sure. They got into it. But it was never anything like this. He felt the tension in the air shift –to something heavier. Something undisclosed to the both of them. And for once in his life, Vance Hopper was rendered speechless. His arms crossed against his chest, eyes locked on to Y/N's.

"What do you mean?" He finally found his voice, letting the anger rise in his throat, almost latching onto the last thing Y/N said. But he didn't.

He could feel his heart quicken, and his next action was all he could do to avoid any further confrontation. He turned around to grab the kit he was searching in before, stilling himself by taking a deep breath before responding.

His fingers were almost white as he gripped the box in his hand, turning back around slowly. The boy on the counter was still looking right at him, unwavering, and he had no idea why he suddenly felt so exposed under his gaze. He could feel his breath get caught in his throat, and he had to turn his head to the side to try and hide the way he seemed to be acting so oddly. He couldn't make any eye contact with him for some reason.

"Forget it. " Was all he got from Y/N before he turned away but there was so much more in his eyes to be told. So much more that he could see and he wanted to know.

He took another deep breath and kept his head down as he looked over Y/N's body. His clothes were in disarray, torn in places and stained with blood and dirt. His face was covered in scratches and a particularly nasty gash on his cheek and his knuckles were bleeding through the bandages he wrapped around them. His ankle was a different story. He hadn't gotten around to peaking under his shirt at the boys ribs but he was dreading what he might see beneath his clothing.

"What happened?" He asked again.

Y/N didn't answer at first and when he finally lifted his head, the only thing he saw anymore was his tired eyes.

"Nothing. "

He didn't believe him for a second. He wanted to say so many things right now. Like how he could see the pain written in his face. How he was just sitting here, bloodied and beaten up on his bathroom counter. He wanted to say something. But all that came out was, "Don't be an idiot."

And then there was silence.

Y/N shifted on the counter and Vance's hands fell to his sides before gripping the end of his shirt. "Let me see your ribs. "

His fingers pulled the fabric over his body, letting it rest around his shoulders, revealing the bruises underneath. The bruises that were wrapped around his torso and were forming into a dark, painful color. He looked up at the boy on the counter, meeting his gaze for a second. He couldn't hide his concern this time. The state of his body was far too intense to.

The sight made his heart sink and he felt like he should say something. But his voice caught in the back of his throat and all he managed to let out was a quiet, "What happened?" Once again. The same question as before.

"Nothing. " He repeated. This time, there was a more aggressive tone behind his words. It was like he was trying to make sure that Vance didn't bother attempting to get an explanation from him.

"Why're you being so difficult? Just tell me. You have no problem running your mouth any other time you come in here after getting fucked up by some loud mouth jock and his friends. So tell me. What happened? "

The insistentence seemed to rile Y/N up more than anything and he found himself getting angrier than he was at the beginning of this whole conversation.

"Because it's none of your business. "

"You're bleeding all over my fucking bathroom floor, it is clearly my business. " He could feel his voice raise a pitch and the two of them were now staring each other down again.

Vance's eyes had widened, not really expecting the blunt response he had received just seconds ago. His own anger boiling over at the moment. He was so tired. "Why don't you just leave then?"

There was a pause and Vance felt his eyes fall to the ground as Y/N's body shifted. The anger in his words fading as he responded.

"I can't. "

He was quiet and he saw Y/N's eyes move up and down his body. He swallowed down the feeling of discomfort.

"Are you going to help me or not?"

His gaze remained fixed on the floor, unable to move it. "I didn't think I had a choice in the matter. "

He heard him scoff from above him. "You're being a dick. "

He was looking back at him, his mouth falling into a thin line as he tried to muster up the right words.

"Look, " He started again, his hands balling into fists. "I don't know what the fuck is going on with you right now. But you're obviously hurt, not just physically and it's late as fuck so just let me help you. "

"Why do you care?"

"Why does it matter?"

Y/N was quiet and Vance waited for another defensive retort, but all he got in response was silence.

He wasn't sure how much longer he wanted to keep talking to him. But his eyes found themselves trailing over his body again, settling on his ribs. A sigh left Vance's lips as he lowered himself to the drawers beneath and took out more bandages. "Even if your ribs are broken, wrapping you is the only thing those bastards at the hospital will do anyway. Saving you a hell of bill. " He shrugged, ripping open the package before moving to sit on the edge of the tub. "Get on the floor. "

Y/N was still silent as he took his weight off the counter, gingerly lowering himself down onto the tile, watching as Vance's hand went for the roll of bandages before he joined him on the floor. "Put your arms around my neck and don't move. "

The moment Y/N's fingers wrapped around Vance's neck and he leaned forward, he could feel his entire body heat up, like it was set on fire.

The two of them were close. Physically at least. The first time he laid eyes on Vance, he had been hanging from his friends car window, perched on top of it, talking shit. Y/N was leaving the convenience store, some girl chirping at his side and Vance was instantly enamored by his wild look.

The spikes in his hair and his sharp jaw. The red dye interwtined in his strands that he liked to flaunt, even though he wore a beanie almost everyday of the week. The piercings in his ears and the way he didn't really have a sense of fashion. The ripped jeans, the dark T-shirts, the black band shirts and the converse. The only thing that was relatively normal was the gray beanie he always seemed to have with him. And maybe that was why he liked him so much. That, and he wasn't a huge dick like everyone seemed to make him out to be the way they avoided him.

Vance shifted in his spot and Y/N let his arms drop away from his shoulders.

"Hey, put your hands back around my neck, dumbass. "

He couldn't help but feel his body grow hotter as he complied, wrapping his arms around Vance's shoulders again. His legs laid on the outside of his and he watched as he started to wrap the bandages around his torso. He winced slightly with every turn, the movement causing a dull pain to come from his ribs.

"Does it hurt?" Vance asked, his fingers resting against his chest for a moment.

He nodded his head but didn't say anything. He could feel Vance's hot breath against his neck and it made his chest tighten.

"What?" He felt the pressure on his chest lift up slightly and he looked down to see Vance staring at him.

"You've never actually been this close to me. " His eyes met Vance's and he felt his face burn up.

"Yeah and?"

"It's nothing, just saying. "

Vance had noticed it before too. How close they were standing to each other in the bathroom. How close they were now. And it made him wonder what the hell was wrong with Y/N. But he knew better than to ask. "You know, " He started again, the tension in his voice dying out a little as he spoke. "you've never really been this close to me before either. "

He could feel the arm he had around his neck tighten. "That's cause you're an asshole. "

"I mean I guess. " He could hear the hint of a smile in his voice and he sighed. "Your shirt is dirty. "

"What? What does that have to do with anything?"

He rolled his eyes and let go of the bandage he was wrapping. "It's in the way. "

He watched as Vance's hands slid over his own, gently lifting them off of his shoulders.

"You're making it weird. "

"Shut up. " He sighed, grabbing the bunch of his shirt around his neck and pulling it off. "There. "

Vance sighed, looking at him for a moment longer before leaning forward, starting to wrap the bandages around him again.

The proximity made his skin feel like it was sizzling and he struggled to maintain eye contact.

"Your hands are fucking freezing. " Y/N winced, the bandage he was wrapping moving against his skin.

"My hands are always fucking freezing. "

He could feel Vance's hand brush against the small of his back, causing a shudder to run down his spine. He bit his cheek and tried to keep his thoughts at bay.

"Does it hurt?" Vance questioned, his voice low.

He nodded his head, trying to steady himself. "A little. "

He let out a hum in response and Y/N found himself thinking about the closeness again. He tried to keep his head up but his eyes kept wanting to wander down to Vance's lips. He knew they were pretty but it was so weird to actually see them like this. To think of the way they'd feel against his own.

He shook his head, trying to push away the intrusive thought. He felt his stomach flutter when he realized that he was staring.

"What?" Vance spoke up, the softness in his voice suddenly gone. He looked up at him, meeting his gaze and he watched as Vance's face turned a little red.

"What? Nothing. " He felt his heart quicken as he stared into his eyes, he watched as Vance's eyes shifted down to his lips and he couldn't help but subconsciously lick them.

"Your eyes are fucking weird. " Vance responded, breaking the eye contact between them.

Y/N's hands stilled and he let out a shaky breath. "What?"

"You have weird colored eyes. Like. They're a weird fucking color. "

The moment the words left his mouth, Y/N could feel the anger rise in his chest. "What the fuck are you going on about?" He began to snap back at him. But Vance didn't say anything, just stared at him with a slight look of panic in his eyes. And he couldn't help but think it was all just a joke. Just another way for Vance to make fun of him. But it wasn't a joke. It couldn't be. Not with how red in the face the boy was.

"You're such an asshole. " He huffed, his fingers gripping at his side.

Vance looked away from him, wrapping the bandage around him one last time before he let out a sigh. "There. "

His hand rested against his chest, gently patting it twice before moving away. He could feel the tension leave his body and his stomach falter when the warmth of Vance's body disappeared.

The blonde sat back down on the edge of the tub and let out a sigh. He couldn't help but notice how quiet Y/N had gotten. It was so different than the way he normally spoke to him.

Vance glanced down at his feet and when he finally met Y/N's gaze again, he saw something in his face that he wasn't expecting. Something vulnerable.

He suddenly felt bad. "What's wrong?" He asked, trying to keep the nervousness in his voice muffled. He watched as Y/N's eyes shifted away from his and down to the tile floor.

"Are you going to kick me out now?" He spoke, his voice low.

His chest tightened at the question and he let out a shaky breath. "What? I mean. No. " He couldn't stop his mind from conjuring up ideas of what could have possibly happened tonight. He couldn't imagine what such a beating must have felt like.

His voice broke through his thoughts again. "Are you sure? I just. " He paused, his voice shaking. "I just want to sleep. "

Vance nodded his head, swallowing down the lump in his throat. "Then you can sleep here. " He watched as Y/N looked up at him with wide eyes.

"What?"

"I don't want you going back home. Your dad could be there for all I know. "

"I never said anything about my dad-"

"You didn't need to. " He snapped back. "It was pretty fucking obvious from the way you've talked about him. "

"It's not like he's beating the shit out of me or anything. " He huffed, looking down at the floor again.

"Yeah? Don't worry. I was in denial once too. " He sighed. "Look, I'm not trying to force you to say shit but whatever the fuck is going on with him, it's not good. And if you think it is then you're fucking stupid. "

He saw the look of defiance flash in Y/N's eyes and he let out another sigh.

"I'm not trying to make you talk about shit you don't want to talk about. I just. " He paused, letting his head fall back against his shoulders. "I don't want you to get hurt. "

He looked up at the ceiling, letting the words he spoke sink in. He wasn't sure if he was making the right decision. It's not like he could be sure of anything he did. But it was late and he was tired. He was tired of thinking about it all. Of watching as he slowly became more and more withdrawn from everyone. Of seeing how angry he got when he got an answer wrong or how sad he was when he was in a fight. Of how he tried to play it off like it was nothing when it was so obvious. He was tired of seeing him struggle and he was tired of being the only person he would open up to. So he let the words just spill out of his mouth, not caring for a second if Y/N took it seriously or not.

He looked back down at him, meeting his eyes and he felt his heart skip a beat.

"Do you want to sleep here or not? In my bed. "

There was no response. And Vance was afraid to speak again for a moment. His heart was beating so loud and his skin was so hot and he wasn't sure why he was so nervous.

He saw the hesitation in his eyes and he swallowed down the lump in his throat.

"Or you can sleep on the floor. " He felt his face turn red as he spoke.

The tension between them was undeniable. He felt his body shake with the heavy weight of his anxiety and it felt like he was trying to stay afloat in a sea of emotions that he couldn't keep up with.

Y/N let out a shaky breath and he nodded his head. "Okay. "

Vance let out a breath of his own, one he didn't know he was holding.

"Okay. "

He watched as Y/N made his way off the floor, taking a little more care than usual with his injured leg. Vance cleared his throat and stood from the tub as well, the two of them now standing face to face in the bathroom.

The air felt like it was too thick. The space between them felt too small.

"So, um, " Vance started, trying to shake away the thoughts that were running through his head. "Do you want a change of clothes? You can take one of my shirts if you want. I have some shorts somewhere too if you want to borrow them. "

The thought of seeing Y/N wearing one of his shirts made his heart tighten yet, he still couldn't seem to grasp what it is he was feeling.

"That'd be cool. "

He nodded his head, walking past him, across the hall and towards his dresser. He was pulling out a pair of boxers and an old shirt, handing them over to him. He saw Y/N glance down at his pants and then up at his face.

"You don't mind, right?"

He could feel the tension rising in his throat and he shook his head, taking a step forward. "Nope. "

The closeness between them made his breath catch in his throat and he watched as Y/N bit his cheek again. His eyes falling to the floor and Vance could see that his hands were trembling. His arms moved slowly and carefully, trying not to make any harsh movements that would send another flash of ache throughout his entire ribcage.

"Do you need help?" Vance asked, reaching out and placing his hand on his shoulder. He saw the hesitation in his eyes before he nodded his head. His fingers moved to rest at the waistline of his jeans and he pushed his thumbs up and underneath the fabric. He felt Y/N's skin against his own and it was enough to make him break out in goosebumps.

He pulled away as quickly as he could, pulling off his pants and throwing them to the side. He felt his cheeks burn and he swallowed down the nervousness he was feeling. He watched as Y/N shoved on the pair of shorts he brought him as quickly as he could.

The silence was unbearable and all he could do was watch as Y/N changed into his clothes and he felt himself getting more and more uncomfortable by the minute. He looked away from the boy after a couple minutes, trying to keep his nerves under control. He didn't even dare breathe, knowing full well that he would probably embarrass himself if he tried.

"Thanks. " The soft tone of Y/N's voice caught him completely by surprise and he whipped his head back around to look at him, seeing that he had a small smile across his lips.

A light blush covered his cheeks. "No problem. Uh... I guess we should go to bed. " He muttered. His gaze fell to the ground, avoiding looking directly at Y/N.

He heard the footsteps behind him as he turned towards his bed and he turned back around just as quickly, opening his eyes as wide as they possibly could. He hadn't noticed how close Y/N was to him until that very moment.

As soon as their eyes locked Vance felt every inch of confidence he had disappear in less than five seconds.

The taller male's cheeks flushed and he stared at him with glossy dark brown eyes. "Yeah. "

He took a few steps backwards. His shoulders relaxing just slightly as he stepped away.

"Um..."

They stood awkwardly in front of each other, neither saying a word. There seemed to be no rush to move on from this awkward standstill they were currently in. Neither moving, neither breathing, neither blinking. Just standing in place and staring at each other like idiots. He felt himself fumbling for something else to say. Anything to break the awkwardness between them.

He felt his stomach twist and he closed his eyes, trying to ignore the feelings of anxiety that were building inside of him. Why did he agree to this? This was such a fucking dumb idea.

"Uh, I'll uh -"

Before he could finish, Y/N grabbed hold of his arm pulling him to his chest and wrapping his arms around him. He felt his breath hitch in his throat as he hugged him. He could feel Y/N's head resting on his shoulder, his hair tickling his cheek and the warm smell of the strands filling his senses.

This wasn't what he wanted at all. He didn't want to feel this way. But, at the same time, he didn't want to feel anything right now. At the moment he wanted to be anywhere else. Anywhere except this room or this situation. Anywhere but with someone who hated his guts or who he couldn' t figure out what exactly he meant to him. With somebody he was still struggling to understand completely. Somebody who knew how he felt and who apparently knew better than anybody else in the world about what he needed and when to push him.

He wasn't sure when Y/N began to see through him so easily. Or when his walls of steel and silver armor had become so transparent.

Maybe it always had been there, hidden under layers of bullshit and sarcasm.

Maybe this whole time he really had just been playing the part. The role they both agreed to play and the roles they had played to the extent where there was nothing left but pretending to be friends. And now, finally having the chance to break the facade and be honest with each other, maybe this was what he really wanted all along. Maybe everything he ever wanted was finally happening and he had spent his whole life denying it.

Maybe this was why he was so scared.

And maybe that's why the rough calloused tips of his fingers grabbed the boy a little too roughly. His coldness piercing through the thick skin on his shoulders as he pushed him away. Maybe that's why he let his voice quiver as he yelled out in anger.

And maybe that's why he let those emotions take over his senses.

His voice came out in a deep growl. It echoed around the empty room, sounding threatening and intimidating despite it just being them two. Alone. Even if nobody could hear him.

"You ever touch me like that again and I'll do a number on you worse than your dad. "

And maybe that's why he was gone after that.

#the black phone #vance hopper #male reader #angst #vance hopper x reader #vance hopper x male reader

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