#↳ ༉‧₊ YANDERE LEON KENNEDY X READER
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The Devil is Real (Part 1)
Summary: Your troubled older brother disappeared two years ago, vanishing without a trace; that is until one day you receive a letter from him. He’s living in Spain after having joined a religious group called Los Iluminados, his life seemingly changed for the better. He would love it if you came to visit him. Who are you to refuse an invitation from your beloved big brother, right?
Word Count: 4.2k
Pairing: plagas!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader (afab)
Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. Actions depicted in this story are not condoned in real life. You are responsible for your own content consumption. If any of the following warnings trigger you, please read at your own risk. Minors do not interact, this story is 18+ only.
Warnings: drug abuse mention, abusive household mention, religious cult, religious trauma, body horror, noncon, dubcon, unprotected p in v, creampie, oral (m and f receiving), kidnapping, yandere tendencies, somno, extreme violence and gore, human sacrifice, murder, blood play/kink, breeding kink, pregnancy, pet names, stockholm syndrome, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT [More warnings may be added in future parts]
A/N: I want to give a shoutout to @d10nyx, who's bot heavily inspired this new series. I had been wanting to write plagas!Leon again for so long, but I wanted to do something I hadn't seen done before and my interaction with her bot planted the seed (breeding kink go brrrrrrrrrrrr). This will likely be my darkest series yet so if that's not your jam, I kindly ask that you keep scrolling. It should be noted that any of the Spanish seen in this series is either from my extremely vague recollection of the language from my youth or from Google translate, so I apologize if there's any weird grammar in any of the Spanish, it is not my intention to butcher the language.
I hope you guys like thrill rides :3
The title is inspired by Bad Things performed by I Prevail
April 22, 2008
Sis,
I apologize for this being the first time I’ve contacted you in two years, but I promise you, it was for good reason. I finally got help. I moved out to Spain to this lovely rural area called Valdelobos to live with this wonderful community called Los Iluminados. I’ve been sober for just over two years because of them. I would really love it if you came to visit, you would absolutely love it here, sis! I would love more than anything to share with you the community that has made such a huge difference in my life. I don’t have access to a computer, so you’ll have to send me a letter to reply. You can find the return address on the envelope. I eagerly await your letter!
With all my love,
Vince
You sit on your old saggy couch, gently holding the handwritten letter in your hands like it’s going to disintegrate. Your mind is in turmoil; your older brother Vincent, or Vince as most people call him, had disappeared about two years ago. He struggled with drug addiction when he reached adulthood, always chasing his next high. When you had reported him missing, police searched everywhere for him for weeks until you finally had to come to terms with the fact that he was most likely dead.
This letter, however, says otherwise.
“Who’s it from?” your boyfriend asks before sitting beside you, seeing the strained look on your face and growing concerned.
You don’t answer him at first, your eyes locked on the weathered piece of paper. Realizing your boyfriend, Mark, had asked you a question, you blink a few times and shake your head, snapping yourself out of the shocked daze.
“It’s from Vince,” you reply, looking over at Mark.
Mark looks at the paper you’re holding, then back to you, “are you sure it’s from Vince?”
“Of course I’m sure! That is definitely his handwriting. He’s alive!”
You hand the letter to Mark, who takes a moment to read the letter himself, adjusting his glasses as he does so, “he wants you to go visit. What are you going to do?”
“I have no idea…” you say softly, burying your face in your hands as you continue to struggle with your emotions.
Growing up, all you had was your brother, having lost your parents at a young age. Growing up, the both of you lived with your grandparents, but they were very abusive. As soon as Vince had turned 18, he fought to become your legal guardian and the two of you moved out. Unfortunately, Vince had turned to drugs to deal with his trauma, but could you blame him? Your grandfather was especially hard on Vince; there were many nights you could remember falling asleep to the sounds of the two of them shouting and throwing things at each other.
There’s a ten year gap between you and your brother, so naturally Vince had become something of a father figure to you, especially considering you were only two when your parents had died. A car accident you had been told; hit by a drunk driver on the way home from a New Year’s party. You felt like life always dealt you a shitty hand. First your parents, then your brother. But now, your brother seems to be back and he’s ok; he’s sober. You should be happy, so why are you so conflicted?
“I’m going to do some research on this ‘Los Iluminados’ group,” you finally say before standing up from the couch to walk into your bedroom, “make sure it isn’t some Jim Jones bullshit…”
“I’ll get dinner started then,” Mark says, also standing up, making his way over to the kitchen, “I’ll holler when dinner’s ready.”
You nod at Mark before walking into the bedroom, sitting down at your desk in the corner of the room, opening your laptop and powering it on. You open up Internet Explorer and open a new Google search window, typing in Los Iluminados which unsurprisingly yielded zero results; with them not having computer access, it makes sense that there’s no trace of this group on the internet by searching their name. You then search cults in Spain and skim through the results. Again, there’s no mention of Los Iluminados anywhere. Drumming your fingers on your desk, you begin to question the letter’s legitimacy. Whoever sent it knew where you lived and that your brother had been missing for two years. No one would go through that much trouble just to prank someone.
“Babe, dinner’s ready!” you hear Mark call from the kitchen.
Letting out a sigh, you reluctantly stand up from your desk, walking out of the bedroom to join your boyfriend in the living room, who just finished putting both your plates down onto the coffee table. Laying in the middle of the living room, your 8 year old brindle English Mastiff, André, lifts his head lazily, sniffing the air upon smelling food. You can’t help but let out a chuckle as you sit down on the couch, grabbing your plate to start eating.
“Even in his old age, André has a one track mind,” Mark says, watching as the large dog gets up from the floor. Mark gently pats him on the head, “don’t you buddy?”
“He sure does,” you reply, reaching over to pat the gentle giant before returning to your meal.
“Were you able to find anything on that group in the letter?” Mark asks, looking over at you before taking a bite of food.
“Not a damn thing. Which I guess makes sense but still…” you say, your voice trailing off as you let out a heavy sigh, “something about it just doesn’t sit well with me.”
“Then we go to Spain, find out if this group is real or not and bounce if it’s just a wild goose chase,” Mark says, weaving his left hand through the air as he speaks.
“And who’s going to watch André?”
André’s big brown eyes look between the two of you, letting out a soft whimper. Mark mouths the word ‘fuck’ before taking another bite of dinner.
“Right,” Mark says quietly, giving André another pat on the head.
The two of you finish eating dinner in silence, afterwards helping each other clean up the dishes. You let Mark know that you’re going to write a response to Vince’s letter, heading back up to the bedroom to sit back at the desk, pulling out a notebook and a pencil.
May 15, 2008
Vince,
First, I just want to say I am relieved to see that you’re ok and that you’re doing better. You had dropped off the face of the earth and I couldn’t find you anywhere; I thought you were dead! I’m so incredibly glad I was wrong. And, of course, congratulations are in order for your two years of sobriety. I know that’s something you really struggled with and I’m glad this community was able to help you. Is it a religious group? I think Los Iluminados roughly translates to “The Enlightened Ones” if my vague recollection of Spanish serves me right. Regardless, I would love to come visit you and see where you’ve been living these past two years, just let me know where I need to go.
Sis
May 31, 2008
Sis,
I was so excited to see you had written back that I practically ripped the envelope open. Los Iluminados is a small religious community and, I know what you’re thinking, it’s not a cult, so you have nothing to worry about there. They’re really big on living a traditional, almost pagan-like lifestyle and for me, being able to unplug while I got better was exactly what I needed. I’m hoping after experiencing Los Iluminados yourself that you’ll feel the same. As far as getting you here goes, you’ll want to fly into Valencia Airport, we’ll come pick you up from there. Call the enclosed number once you have your flight booked and tell Maria what day you’re coming. I’m looking forward to seeing you!
Vince
You tuck the letter back in your carry on bag, leaning back in your seat on the airplane and closing your eyes. You land in Valencia Airport in less than an hour and you are doing everything in your power to keep your nerves in check and not get your hopes up. You did as Vince had asked, you called this woman named Maria and with really broken Spanish, you had told her you were flying in on June 17th. At some point you must have dozed off because you’re jolted awake when the plane lands on the tarmac.
The plane pulls into the dock and you along with the other passengers file out. You head down to baggage claim to grab your luggage; you had packed about a week’s worth of clothes since you didn’t know how long you were staying. You low key were hoping to talk your brother into coming back to the States with you, but that’s a bridge you’ll cross when you get there. That thought is far from your mind, however, when you get through airport security and immediately spot your brother holding a large sign with your name on it. Your mouth hangs agape as you stop in your tracks. The last time you had seen him, he was a 33 year old who looked almost 50 due to his years of drug abuse. Now? He has color in his face, he’s gained weight and actually looks healthy. His clothes are a little disheveled and covered in dirt, but he’s smiling, probably the first time you’ve seen him smile since you were children.
Dropping your luggage, you run over to your brother, throwing your arms around him and hugging him tight, tears freely flowing from your eyes as you cry out, “it’s you, you’re real! You’re alive!”
Vince tightly hugs you back, rocking you both back and forth before stepping back, smiling down at you as his hands remain on your shoulders, “look at you! All grown up; 25 has treated you nicely!”
You playfully scoff before walking back to grab your luggage, “hardly.”
You return to Vince, who then takes your luggage from you as the two of you begin to walk out of the airport, “how’s Mark? You two are still together, I take it?”
“We are! He’s doing good, he’s at home watching André.”
“André is still around? That’s nice to hear!” Vince says as the two of you walk up to a very beat up looking sedan, “here’s our luxury limousine!”
You playfully smack him with the back of your hand, “very funny, Vince.”
You watch as Vince opens the trunk of the sedan, putting your luggage inside, he looks up at you as he closes the trunk, “go ahead and get in the back seat, Sis.”
You nod in acknowledgement, climbing into the back seat, your brother joining you shortly after. An older couple sits in the driver’s and passenger’s sides of the sedan, promptly driving away from the airport once you and your brother put your seatbelts on.
“We have about a three hour drive ahead of us, you must be exhausted from your flight,” Vince says, looking over at you and giving you a warm smile.
You nod, feeling your eyes grow heavy from jet lag, however you force your eyes to stay open; you desperately don’t want to miss a single moment with your brother.
“Hey,” Vince lays a hand on your shoulder, “it’s ok, get some rest, I’ll wake you up when we get close to the village.”
“If you say so…” you reply softly.
You hesitantly let your eyes close, drifting off into a dreamless sleep. It feels like only a moment has passed when Vince shakes you awake.
“Hey Sis, we’re here!”
After getting out of the car, there was still a considerable hike until you got to the village proper. Once getting there, however, you find yourself pleasantly surprised. You weren't sure what you were expecting of a small village at the center of a religious community but what you’re seeing wasn’t it. It is a bonafide village, with actual houses, a town center, a watchtower and a large brick structure towards the back. In the distance, you can see a windmill slowly spinning. You chalk it up to the large number of documentaries you had watched on cults leading up to this trip that painted a picture in your mind of what this village would look like; the small, white cottages of People’s Temple immediately coming to mind. A part of you is glad you were wrong.
“So, what do you think?” Vince asks me, gesturing one of his hands towards the village, “this is where I’ve been these last two years.”
“It’s nothing like what I expected, it’s… honestly really peaceful,” you reply, looking around the village in awe.
You watch as several of the other villagers stop what they’re doing to look at you and your brother, an older woman over by a well giving both of you a warm smile before pulling a bucket of water up from the well.
“My house is over here,” Vince continues, pointing to one of the houses on the left before leading you towards it.
Vince’s house sits next to the watchtower, he opens the door and walks inside. Before you enter, you happen to turn around and look towards the large brick building in the back of the village. Standing at the door is someone wearing a black cloak with gold trim, underneath his clothes you can tell he’s wearing cargo pants and a tight fitting athletic shirt of some kind. But that’s not what grabs your attention; it’s his azure eyes locked on you, causing your blood to run cold.
“Vince,” you say, your voice trembling as you reach to grab his wrist, stopping him, “who is that over there?”
Vince turns to look where you’re looking, letting out a soft chuckle once he sees who you’re looking at, “him? That’s just Leon. He’s the right hand of our Lord Saddler. He’s probably here to check on things, don’t worry about him. Come inside.”
Vince practically pulls you, shutting and barring the door shut once you’re inside.
“Why are you blocking the door?” you ask, raising an eyebrow as your brother turns to face you.
“We tend to have an open door policy in the village. Where you and I haven’t seen each other for awhile, I figured it’d be best to have some privacy, wouldn’t you agree?”
You nod as you take in your surroundings. There’s a staircase leading upstairs and around the corner, a dining table and a kitchen area. Several candles are burning; they definitely don’t have electricity and running water in this village. Behind your brother is a worn couch.
“Is that where I’m sleeping?” you ask, pointing at the couch.
“Nope, you get the bed upstairs. I can live with the couch for a while. Nothing but the best for my little sis.”
“Thanks Vince,” you reply, grabbing your luggage, “I’ll bring this upstairs, then maybe we can talk. You know… catch up.”
You grab your luggage, dragging it up the stairs. You spot the bed at the end of the bannister next to a window overlooking the village center. As you’re staring out the window, you spot the cloaked man, Leon, again. He’s standing in the center of town, looking right at you. It sends a chill down your spine. You turn around and scream a little when your brother taps you on the shoulder.
“You ok? You weren’t answering me,” Vince says, his face full of concern.
“Sorry… it’s that guy. He’s right down there staring at the window,” you reply, turning to point out the window, however, Leon is gone, “oh, nevermind. It must have been my imagination.”
“He’s like… a guard dog of sorts. He’s probably just making sure you’re chill,” Vince explains, gently grabbing you by your upper arm and leading you back downstairs, “he’s like that with anyone he doesn’t know.”
“Right, of course…” you’re still uneasy, but decide to trust your brother.
“I’ll get started on dinner, have a seat at the table,” says Vince before walking over to the large wood stove, which is already aflame.
“Can I help with anything?” you ask, still standing by the table.
“No, I got it. Been doing this for two years. I can handle it. You’re the guest of honor, you just sit back, relax and let your brother take care of you.”
While your brother prepares dinner for the two of you, you make small talk, getting him caught up on the two years worth of stuff he missed. You told him about Mark and André, told him that your horrendous grandfather finally passed away a year ago; you had caught a smirk on Vince’s face before he turned his attention back to making dinner. Once dinner is finished, he sets both plates down at the table and the two of you dig in.
“Earlier you had said Lord Saddler,” you begin, taking a bite of food before continuing, “Vince… are you sure this isn’t a cult?”
Your brother bursts out laughing, reaching over to put his hand on yours to comfort you, “Lord Osmund Saddler is the patriarch of Los Iluminados and the speaker for the Holy Body. I’m not held here against my will. I promise you with every fiber of my being, this isn’t a cult, Sis.”
“I’m sorry I just… I may have watched a bunch of documentaries before coming here on cults and I just want what’s best for you, that’s all.”
Vince smiles, “Don’t worry, no one is going to drink any Kool Aid here.”
“Vince, that’s terrible!” you playfully smack him, “also it wasn’t even Kool Aid!”
You can’t help but laugh, slowly letting your mind be at ease. It’s clear your brother is happy and healthy here in this village. Before you can continue your conversation with Vince, you hear the chime of a church bell in the distance and you watch as your brother immediately stands up.
“What’s that all about?” you ask, slowly standing up.
“That is the sound of evening service. Come! I’d love for you to see one of Father Méndez’s services.”
Taking your hand, Vince unblocks the door and takes you outside. You see all the villages are filling into the large brick building you had seen Leon standing in front of earlier.
“That’s the meeting house, we have to pass through it to get to the church,” he explains to you as he leads you to follow the other villagers inside the building.
Upon walking in there is a large room, shelves of food and supplies lining the walls. In the back of the room was a large painting of a robed man; not Leon, but someone else, Vince notices you staring at the painting.
“That is our Lord Saddler. Hopefully you’ll get to meet him during your visit; he’s a wonderful patriarch, I think you’ll like him.”
There is something about the painting that unsettles you, but you can’t put your finger on it; nor do you have time to because before you know it, Vince is leading you into the adjacent room. This room has a large table lined with chairs on both sides. You both proceed around the table exiting out of the door on the other side with the other villagers. The door takes you out to a winding path which opens up to a cemetery with the church sitting just at the top of the hill.
You and your brother make your way up the hill, following the rest of the villagers into the church where you and your brother sit in one of the pews in the middle. There is an extremely tall man standing at the altar, wearing a black leather trench coat and a large brim hat. His dark beard has subtle white hairs, indicating to you that he’s much older than you and your brother. In fact, now that you think about it, you realize you and your brother are probably the youngest ones in the church.
Behind the imposing man is a large stained glass window decorated with red, blue, green and white. The white glass makes a pattern. You’re not sure what to make of it; it’s almost like a crude insect-like cross with four appendage-like parts extended out with a tail pointing downwards. Once everyone is seated in the pews, the man at the altar addresses the villagers.
“My brothers and sisters,” the man begins, his Hispanic accent thick, “before we begin tonight’s sermon, I wanted to welcome the visitor that Vincent has brought to visit our village.” The man gestures one of his hands towards us, “if you would do the honors, Vincent.”
Your brother stands up, “Gracias, Father Méndez. This is my younger sister,” he says before telling everyone your name, “she’ll be staying with me for a while, we haven’t seen each other since I first came here. I hope you all can join me in showing her what makes Los Iluminados a special community.”
The other villagers clap softly as Vince sits back down. After that, Father Méndez begins the service, which is in Spanish, so you strained your brain to try to pick up bits and pieces of what he’s saying. This doesn’t last long, however as your eye catches movement in the darkness in the back of the church. You feel your heart skip; it’s Leon again, his azure gaze once again locked on you. His expression is cold and emotionless, but there is no doubt in your mind that he is staring at you.
As if sensing your unease, your brother nudges you with his elbow and whispers, “what’s wrong?”
“It’s Leon again…” you reply, nodding your head in Leon’s direction.
Vince’s gaze follows yours, spotting Leon staring at you from the back of the church. Vince lets out a soft sigh.
“I’ll talk to Father Méndez after the service.”
For the rest of the service, you steal glances towards the back of the church, where Leon remains, still staring at you. At the end of the service, however, when you look back, Leon is finally gone, much to your relief.
Father Méndez’s booming voice draws your attention back to him, “¡Gloria a Las Plagas!”
“¡Gloria a Las Plagas!” the villagers, including Vince, repeat back.
Gloria a Las… Plagas? you think to yourself, glory to the… plague? Plagues? Pests? What? That makes no sense…
Before you can think it over further, your brother stands up abruptly, pulling you up with him.
“Pablo,” Vince says as he approaches another villager, “¿Puedes llevar a mi hermana de regreso a mi casa? Tengo que hablar con el padre Méndez.”
The man nods, “sí, claro.”
Vince turns his attention back to you, “Pablo here is going to take you back to my house while I talk to Father Méndez about Leon, ok? I won’t be long.”
“Alright, thanks Vince,” you reply as Pablo gently takes you by your upper arm, leading you out of the church.
You turn back, watching your brother approach Father Méndez before the church doors close behind you.
“Vincent,” Méndez begins as Vince approaches him, “what can I do for you, my brother?”
“It’s about Leon,” Vince says, crossing his arms, “I want him to leave my sister alone.”
“What do you mean? You do remember what you agreed to, no?” Méndez presses straightening his posture.
“I do remember, but he is scaring her. All he’s done since she got here is stare at her.”
“And? Are you saying you’re defying the will of Lord Saddler?”
“No, of course not!” Vince exclaims before lowering his voice, “but if we want any chance of her staying in Los Iluminados, he needs to chill out with the staring, ok? Is that too much to ask, Father?”
Méndez brings a hand to his beard, stroking it as he contemplates Vince’s request. After a few moments, he gently nods, “fine. I will speak with Lord Saddler on this.”
“Thank you, Father.”
She is perfect.
Leon stands at the end of the bed that you’re sleeping in, completely oblivious to his presence. Bringing his hands up, he lowers the hood of his cloak. The exposed skin on his neck and face are completely covered in inky black veins and seem to pulse under his skin. He gently crawls onto the bed, being careful not to wake you as he cages you with his body.
Leaning down so that his nose is nearly pressed against the side of your neck, he breathes in your scent deeply, opening his mouth slightly to lick his sharpened incisors with his tongue. He moves away from your neck, staring down at you as he watches your chest rise and fall gently as you slumber. Unable to help himself, he leans back down, his lips hovering above yours when he hears the unmistakable sound of the front door opening downstairs.
His head snaps towards the stairs, crawling off your bed with the grace and stealth of a panther. He brings his hood back up over his head, walking silently over to the open window at the head of the stairs where he had let himself in, climbing out and shutting the window carefully behind him, not leaving a single trace that he was even there.
#leon kennedy#leon s kennedy#leon kennedy x reader#plagas!leon kennedy#leon kennedy smut#dead dove do not eat#dead dove#gigabyte writes
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PUPPY OBSESSION V
Yandere Leon Kennedy x Reader
Part I — Part II — Part III — Part IV — Part V
Y’all wanted it, so y’all got it. Thank you for being so patient and waiting an entire fucking year (Christ, has it really been that long??). And so — without further ado — I hope you enjoy part 5 of this quirky series, tee hee.
This is in HC format.
The reader is gender neutral.
Contains: feelings of paranoia, being hunted, deliberations on murder, Stockholm syndrome if you squint.
↳ ༉‧₊ You woke up to the worst pain in your life.
And that’s no exaggeration, either.
Your legs felt like they were splintering at the bone, and your cheeks stung of tiny cuts. Not to mention your aching joints and muscles.
After a while, however, you managed to sit upright without falling flat back on the ground. And that’s when you decided to assess your current situation;
You had no idea where the fuck you were.
It was morning, at least, so you were able to see the tall trees that surrounded your battered form. The only thing you could hear were the soft chirps of distant birds.
Lost in a forest, you noted. So, escaping WASN’T just a dream…
Part of you wanted to rejoice at this revelation. You were finally free; free from him. After being in that basement for god knows how long, you escaped..!!
But another part of you knew it wasn’t that simple.
You knew he was coming after you. Hell, he was probably searching all night, and even still searching. There’s no way he would just let you hit him with a vase, jump through a window, and disappear into the woods.
You might’ve escaped, but you quite literally weren’t out of the woods yet.
Which is why you found yourself struggling to your feet. It hurt like a bitch (maybe jumping out of a window was a bad idea), but the remaining adrenaline of the night before — mixed with your unwavering determination — got you standing in no time.
If you wanted to remain free, you had to keep moving.
It was the only way.
↳ ༉‧₊ Walking through the woods was a nightmare in itself.
And it wasn’t because your legs ached with every step. Well, that might’ve been part of it, but it definitely was the least of your worries.
Every single sound you heard — every snap of a twig or crunch of a leaf — sent waves of terror through your body. For all you knew, any of those sounds could’ve been him.
God, what if he was following you from a distance? Carefully watching until you took a rest, which would be the perfect moment for him to catch you off guard?
Then again, he probably wouldn’t be patient enough for that. If he saw you, he’d probably waste no time in tackling you or something.
A shiver went up your spine, though you didn’t know if it was the chilly morning air or the thought of him charging at you…
All the more reason to keep moving, you told yourself.
But… moving towards where?
These woods were unfamiliar to you, and you weren’t sure if Leon had neighbors in the woods.
Maybe you could find a nearby town? Or a campsite of some sort? Even a highway would be good enough.
Whatever was closest, you’d find a way to work with it.
Anywhere that wasn’t near him was like heaven, after all.
↳ ༉‧₊ The woods seemed to go on for hours.
And, admittedly, it probably did.
You had no idea how long you were walking for. But the sun was right above your head, meaning it was almost likely around noontime.
Though your rumbling stomach was really the only indication you needed for the time…
Okay, you had to admit; your escape wasn’t so well-thought out. You were so hung up on the actual escape part that you didn’t really think about what would happen afterwards. And that was really evident in your lack of food… which is kind of important for survival.
Maybe I should’ve taken a bit longer to plan…
You shook the thought from your head. There was no way you would spend anymore time in that place. If you had to sleep one more night with him, you might’ve lost it.
… Though, maybe you already have lost it.
Even so, you still had to keep moving. No matter how tired your pained legs were, you had to keep looking for something. There was no time for a break; you couldn’t take a break.
↳ ༉‧₊ Your body, however, had other plans.
By the time the sky was a brilliant orange color, you were practically crawling on the forest floor.
You bitterly thought about how pathetic you must’ve looked; wrinkled clothing caked in mud, dirt underneath your fingernails, hands clawing into the earth to drag the rest of your body forward…
And it didn’t help that your stomach was rumbling louder than you would’ve preferred…
Or that your throat felt so dry…
However, your luck seemed to be turning around a bit when your ears picked up on a soft, trickling, gushing noise.
Water.
The thought of a river or stream nearby motivates you enough to shakily get off of the ground, your legs stumbling towards the promising sounds of nice, cold water.
It didn’t take long before you managed to find yourself on a riverbank, jagged pebbles crunching under your feet as you lurched towards the clear and glittering water.
You wasted no time in cupping your hands and plunging them into the river. The cool water felt refreshing against your hands, creating a soothing ripple effect across your entire aching body.
Was this water clean? Probably not. God knows what nasty particles were swimming around in this unfiltered river water, and you did not want to know where this water was coming from.
But none of that stopped you from bringing your hands up to your lips and gulping it down.
You repeated this action about 5 or 6 times, the cool water doing good to quench your thirst. Despite the earthy taste — and the overwhelming flavor of straight-up river — it was probably the best water you’ve had in a while.
↳ ༉‧₊ It was then that you decided to take a break for the rest of the night.
The sun was barely peeking behind the tree line at this point, and wandering in the dark wasn’t going to do you any favors.
Besides, that little voice in the back of your head that was pleading for you to rest was getting on your nerves.
You cupped some water into your hands once more to splash your face, effectively removing whatever dirt and grime you had collected. The cold liquid against your skin made you feel much more rejuvenated than when you initially woke up.
You also took the time to dip your sore feet into the river to provide some sense of relief. A sigh of relief was pulled from your lips as you looked up to the darkening sky.
Why did it have to be you? Why did this sick fuck have to destroy everything — your promising career, your general sense of safety, your entire life — all because of his borderline psychotic obsession?
Did you piss off whatever god was out there so badly that they decided to punish you like this? Did they create Leon Kennedy to be your own personal demon? Someone that would latch himself onto you like a parasite and drain you of everything you loved?
I... I have to make you love me, his twisted voice echoed in your head. I— I need to make you love me… pl— please— please love me…
Love me…
Love me…
Love me…
A distant twig snapping made your shoulders jolt.
↳ ༉‧₊ It was him.
There was something about the way a shiver ran up your spine that made you know.
He was somewhere nearby.
So, as quietly as you could manage, you pulled your feet out from the river and frantically scanned your surroundings.
There was a thick, good-sized tree with a bush next to it that would (hopefully) provide adequate cover should he look your way. Hiding from him made you feel pathetic — you were supposed to be an officer; someone who was fearless and brave — but you had no idea what he was armed with.
Or if he minded cuddling with a dead body.
That’s why you darted towards the tree. You paid extra mind towards the dead leaves on the ground, making sure not to create any sound that would alert him, as you dove behind your makeshift cover.
It was quiet for a few moments. The only sound you could hear was the trickling body of water next to you, and you were starting to doubt yourself.
Maybe it wasn’t him after all…
But another twig snapped — sounding much closer than before — and your stomach dropped completely.
Crunch… crunch… crunch… crunch…
You could hear dead leaves being stepped on by careful feet, getting louder and louder by the second. Your head carefully peaked out from behind the tree and bush as you silently prayed for it to be someone else; anyone else.
But, of course, fate never worked in your favor.
When he came into your field of vision, you had to fight your initial urge to bolt the other direction. But you knew better than to give away your location and have him chase you in your current state.
So, instead, you took notice of his current state.
He was still in his RPD uniform, though it was caked in mud and dirt. His hair was sporting a similar grimy look with dirty blonde strands poking every which way.
You weren’t close enough to admire him in full detail, but you did manage to catch the cuts that littered his face.
As well as the good-sized chunk of porcelain that was embedded in his forehead.
A dark part of your mind felt satisfied at this.
↳ ༉‧₊ Fortunately for you, he didn’t seem to notice your hiding spot.
You watched him slowly the riverbank, most likely trying to pick up on any signs that you were at least nearby.
It felt like hours passed before his head lowered towards the river. His shoulders hitched upwards before sagging downwards; you guessed it was from him heaving a sigh.
Maybe that means he’s given up, you thought. Or at least moving on to a new area.
But any hope of that went out the window when he suddenly dropped to his knees, his hands clutching at the pebbles on the riverbank.
You weren’t expecting him to do that, which is probably why you felt your entire body flinch. Your eyes narrowed as you watched him intently.
What is he doing?
Your question was quickly answered by the front sniffling noises that filled the evening air. Leon’s entire body seemed to tremble as the sniffling turned into full-on sobs.
He was crying.
Of course. Just your luck to have him come to the exact same area you’re in… just to cry.
All you could do was uncomfortably watch him wail into his hands, his body curling into itself.
“… (Y/N),” you could faintly hear him whimper. “(Y/N)… wh-where are you?!”
The way he sobbed out your name crawled underneath your skin, sending a deep chill up your back.
He reminded you of a lost child crying out for his parents…
Except this lost child needs to fuck off, you mentally spat out.
In between his hiccups, you could hear those disgusting I love you’s he would mumble into your ear. The ones that would haunt you during the night, or when he was away at work.
“I… love y-you… I-I love you…”
“I love you…”
“I love you…”
“I love you…”
It would always roll off of his lips like a prayer.
His wailing soon turned into soft whimpers, which then turned into soft sniffles. What felt like an eternity of his cries piercing your ears was finally over.
He looked as though he was asleep.
Find a rock, a dark corner of your mind screamed. Find a rock that’s big enough to crush his skull in.
Killing him… that was…
Well…
You couldn’t explain it, but something about that idea just didn’t sit right with you.
Which was absolutely crazy to you; this was the guy that stalked you, broke into your house, kidnapped you, kept you in his basement for god knows how long, and tried force his twisted romantic fantasies onto you.
A psycho like him deserves to die, that dark voice reasoned with you.
But…
Maybe it was some sense of morality that was holding you back. To kill another human, well, is a crime. Leon is a piece of shit, but murdering him wouldn’t make you any better. As much as part of you thought he deserves death, you knew it wasn’t up to you to make that call. If anything, if he deserved anything, it was professional help (in a nice padded room far away from you, might you add).
Even so, the dark voice was persistent.
Kill him. He’s done nothing but make your life a living hell. He’s practically hunting you down, for fucks sake, and he won’t stop until he has you again.
And if that ever happens…
God, what would he even do to you?
↳ ༉‧₊ You found yourself in a moral dilemma.
The night was upon you, and Leon remained asleep on the riverbank.
It would be an easy kill, you mused to yourself. If you were quiet enough, you could pick up a rock, sneak up on him, and hit him as hard as you could. Over and over and over again.
But… what if he woke up? What if he managed to grab the rock from your hands, or heard you approach him to begin with? Would you win that fight? Would you be able to outrun him?
And… more importantly… would you have enough willpower to strike him in the first place?
Surely, you would, right? This man is terrible. All of your rage should be bubbling towards the surface, giving you the strength to cave his fucking face in.
But something was holding you back. You didn’t know what it was, but it somehow trumped over your anger and caused anxiety to claw at your mind.
Kill him… kill him… kill him…!!
You felt your hands trembling as you stared down at them.
I… I can’t…
It just wasn’t right. Leon was fucked up in the brain, sure, but should he really die because of it? In his sleep, no less?
It might not be right, but it might be the only way you can get the hell out of here.
So…
↳ ༉‧₊ What is your plan of action?
#↳ ༉‧₊ PUPPY OBSESSION#↳ ༉‧₊ YANDERE RESIDENT EVIL#↳ ༉‧₊ YANDERE LEON KENNEDY#↳ ༉‧₊ YANDERE LEON KENNEDY X READER
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baby steps ♡ yandere!leon kennedy x reader
nsfw (18+) - minors dni or i will call ur mom. and also the cops
word count: 5k
description: moving to raccoon city with leon, your long-term boyfriend and childhood sweetheart, doesn't go as planned. while you consider moving back home to lick your wounds, leon conspires to keep you right by his side, where you were always meant to be.
tags/warnings: yandere!leon kennedy, specifically rookie cop leon, squishy soft dom leon, manipulation and generally toxic behavior, baby trapping (via tampering w condoms), daddy kink, praise kink, pet names, no use of y/n, fingering, p in v, creampie, cockwarming, mention of vomiting
a/n: this piece was commissioned by #1 Soft Dom Rookie Leon Truther and My Feral Puppy Wife @nexysworld ,, pls pls check out her work, she's so very talented and sweet and i am lucky to call her a friend ;w; <33
hopefully if u made it this far u read the tags and know what ur in for, but out of an abundance of caution i would like to reiterate that this is a yandere!leon fic and therefore contains dark themes a la dubious/uninformed consent and unhealthy relationship dynamics. if that's a no-no for u, pls kindly move on and take care of urself !!
my masterlist ♡
my ao3 ♡
fic under the cut, thanks so much for reading and i hope u enjoy ;w;
-venus ♡
Leon had it all figured out from the day he met you, the first day of kindergarten. The two of you were going to be just like the movies, just like the storybooks– you would grow up as friends, blossom into lovers, marry young and start a family, and everything would be exactly as it should be. He would have fulfilled his purpose, and you would have fulfilled yours. All would be right in the universe.
And he wasn’t exactly far off, for a long time. You were attached at the hip through elementary school, somehow managed to stay friends through middle school and after an awkward, smitten kiss shared in the empty auditorium, you began dating in high school. It was perfect, he thought. He didn’t even have to pull that many strings.
You went to prom, got drunk for the first time, learned to drive, all in each other’s company. You had each other’s virginity. You’d seen, touched and savored every inch of each other. There was almost nothing you didn’t share.
It wasn’t too long after graduation that Leon applied to begin training at the police academy, just like he’d always dreamed of. It was a solid profession with plenty of benefits for both of you and it would give him the opportunity to help people, ticking off all the boxes of what he wanted for himself. It was perfect, it was safe.
No one was surprised when he soared through the police academy with impeccable marks. You were such a little angel when he graduated, showering him with kisses and sweets and letting him pound you into the mattress for a whole weekend to celebrate. And when his application in Raccoon City was accepted, you did exactly as he hoped you would and you followed right along with him.
Of course you would follow right along. You didn’t know what life without Leon meant. You couldn’t even conceptualize what that would feel like and you had no intention of finding out, but that was fine by him. He was happy to be your rock, your guidance, your big, strong boyfriend who would hold your hand and follow you through everything.
With Leon, you would never be alone. You would never be far from home. After all this time, he was your home, exactly as your lives were designed.
For the first few months of living in Raccoon City, the two of you shared a cozy apartment. It was a little worse for wear, but it was cute, and it was a fun way to start your adventure into young adulthood together. He was happy to handle all of the spiders and quadruple check the locks every night if it made you feel safer, if it gave you an excuse to come crying to him like a beautiful angel whenever you were frightened.
Bumps in the night, creaks of the pipes, the skittering of the upstairs neighbor’s little dog, they all sent you folding into his arms, shaking like a leaf, crying for him to protect you. He was your knight, and God were you his perfect little princess. The apple of his eye, the one and only object of his affection. No, not his affection, his obsession.
You were all he thought about, day and night, for more than half of his 21 years of living. Everything he did, every breath he took was with you in mind. You were the only living manifestation of complete and total perfection, every inch of you crafted with care and divinity. Your lives fit together like puzzle pieces– hell, your bodies fit together like puzzle pieces. You were meant for each other.
It wasn’t long after you moved that the job you had lined up fell through, and you were left reeling. Moving away from home just to fall flat on your face was a massive blow to your self esteem, especially considering your parents practically screamed a hole through the phone at you about it. The next few days were spent sulking around the apartment, trying to pick up the pieces and choose a completely different path for yourself.
And there was Leon to hold you while you cried. To make dinner every night and dote on you endlessly, to pamper you with gifts and to insist over and over that he could make rent on his own, that he didn’t mind if you needed a little more time to wallow before finding a job… and to console you when your search for employment would prove fruitless once again.
He was there to tell you it wasn’t your fault, that the job market was just rough right now and that no matter what, he would be there to take care of you.
Weeks stretched into months and you still felt like you were spinning out, even with Leon by your side. Every single day was beginning to feel the same and you didn’t know what to do, all you knew was that you couldn’t imagine living the rest of your life like this. Something had to give and Raccoon City clearly wasn’t it.
Leon came home with a big smile on his face, just like any other day, but today was extra special. He’d finally had his one year review at the police station, and he was getting a sizable raise. He couldn’t wait to tell you he was gonna get you out of this shitty apartment and into somewhere nicer. He couldn’t wait to sneak his way down to the jeweler in search of a ring. The storybook life he had laid out for you was coming to fruition right before his eyes.
But you were quiet over dinner, and you looked exhausted. You wouldn’t even meet his eyes as you picked at your plate.
He was just about to ask you what was wrong when you finally spoke up, “I-I think I need to move back home with my parents.”
Silence. He felt like he had been shot.
“It’s just that… I know you said you’re happy to take care of bills and everything, but I just feel terrible every day being a burden and I think I need a chance to figure things out and get back up on my feet. I don’t even know what I’m doing with my life anymore.”
His expression fell and his heart ached, any and all excitement he had about his situation now gone in an instant. All the money in the world meant nothing to him if he couldn’t share it with you, and to see you so lost and scared made him feel like he fucking failed you, his poor, sweet princess who looked to him for purpose and protection and partnership.
Leon wasn’t stupid. He knew that allowing you to move back in with your parents could potentially be a death sentence to your relationship. When people aren’t around each other anymore, it’s only natural that they drift apart, and Leon could not let that happen. It wasn’t even an option in his brain. Something had to be done and something had to be done now, before your lease was up in a few months, before push came to shove and you would finally have to make your choice.
He wasn’t even really sure where he got the idea. It wasn’t something he’d ever considered before, mostly because he didn’t think he’d ever be put in this position.
A few nights after that conversation, Leon couldn’t sleep. It was well past two in the morning and you were peacefully asleep beside him while he stared at the ceiling, entirely lost in thought. He witnessed the worst and darkest of humanity at work every single day, but nothing scared him as deeply as the idea of losing you.
Eventually he got out of bed as carefully as he could manage, not wanting to wake you with his troubles. He only planned to get some water and maybe a minute or two of fresh air to clear his mind, but what he didn’t plan to get was some inspiration.
You had asked him to stop at the store on his way home from work to pick up a few things you needed, and the bag was still sitting on the counter. He took it upon himself to grab a few things he needed, too, and among the items left in the bag was an unopened box of condoms. At first his eyes skimmed over it without much interest, but it wasn’t long before he froze where he stood and turned to look at the bag again.
Leon wasn’t sure what came over him. He didn’t really feel like himself, it was like he was watching his next moves from a third person perspective, hovering above, detached. For a moment he even wondered if he was sleepwalking, or if this was a dream. He stared down at the box in his hand, carefully opened it, and pierced a hole in the center of each and every one. He tucked the packets back into the box and brought it with him on his way back to the bedroom, stashing it in the usual spot in the bedside table.
On his side, of course.
He tried to go back to sleep, but he couldn’t help but just watch you. You were so pretty, so peaceful when you were dreaming, such a nice contrast to the stress and insecurity over finding your life’s purpose that plagued you in your waking hours.
But Leon already knew your life’s purpose. He reached out, gently brushing your messy hair away from your sleepy face so he could admire you more fully, and all he could think about was how much happier you’d look with a ring on your finger and a baby in your belly. Maybe an unexpected nudge in the right direction would set you back on the correct path and make you come to your senses about moving back in with your parents.
You huffed out a sleepy little breath from between your plush lips, stirring in the bed and peeking open your eyes to look at him. It was clear you weren’t fully conscious yet, but you were trying, squirming closer to him to tuck yourself into his chest.
“W’time is it?” You mumbled, rubbing your eyes.
He smiled fondly, petting your hair and pressing a kiss to the crown of your head as you cuddled up to him like a sweet little baby bear, and he tried to pretend he hadn’t accidentally made himself hard as fuck thinking about knocking you up just to get you to stay with him. Somewhere deep down, he knew it was gross, he knew it was wrong, he knew it could violate your trust in so many ways.
But Leon was nothing if not a yearner, a hopeless romantic who couldn’t bear the thought of life without you by his side. He’d done everything right by you and you were still straying away from him, and that just wouldn’t do. It’s an act of desperation, he thought to himself, justifying his actions into the ground, I just want her so badly I’m not thinking straight, all pleas for forgiveness he would store for later use.
“It’s late, baby,” He mumbled into your hair, breathing in the scent of your shampoo. “I’m sorry if I woke you up.”
You just shook your head and tightened your arms around him, clearly on the verge of dozing off again. Perhaps if the circumstances were different, he would have just let you, but he wouldn’t be awake in the first place if it weren’t for the extreme sense of urgency he felt.
His broad, warm hands engulfed you, one cradling the back of your head while the other rubbed your lower back, tapering off to paw at your hip. Your shirt– well, his shirt– had ridden up nearly to your waist, baring your cute panties, your soft belly and your plush thighs to his gaze. He swiped the pad of his thumb along your hip, imagining your bone structure spreading open to make room for his growing baby.
Leon didn’t take the time to talk himself out of it before his fingertips were sneaking down between your legs, slipping beneath your panties and finding your clit with practiced ease. The sensation was enough to jerk you awake again, a quiet mewl tumbling from your lips as you rocked into his hand, so sleepy and out of it and just so very cute.
“Leon?” Your voice was thick with sleep, but airy and light with sudden onset desire. That was all he needed to know he had you right where he wanted you.
“Shh, shh, you’re alright,” He cooed softly, following up the soothing whispers with a few gentle nibbles and bites to the shell of your ear, knowing that such attention always melted you into a puddle. “You’re alright, pretty baby, I just wanna play with you. Can daddy play with his sweet angel?”
You squirmed in his hold for a second, pondering his proposition while barely awake, but it wasn’t long before you were nodding into his shoulder and peppering his collarbone with wet kisses in return. It never took much to convince you when he spoke to you like that, so adoring and saccharine.
“That’s my good girl,” He mused, invigorated by your consent. Almost instantaneously he became more heavy-handed with his touches, fingertips massaging firm, purposeful circles around your clit, occasionally dipping down to collect your growing arousal and bring it back with him. “You’re all mine, you know that? Never gonna let anyone else have my baby.”
Poor you. Clueless of his intentions, you interpreted that sentence in a much different way than he really meant it. But, ignorance is bliss, and what you felt right now was nothing short of blissful.
You poked your head up just to catch his lips with your own in a wanton grasp for more intimacy, a signal of your agreement, like you were giving yourself to him. He knew it was wrong that you didn’t fully realize what you were agreeing to, but again, he compartmentalized that, deciding that was a problem for his future self. What mattered right now was securing your place at his side for the rest of your lives.
He could feel the way your hips were stuttering, he could feel how short your breaths were becoming against his lips, and he knew you were getting close. Grunting into your mouth, he forced his hand further down your panties and sank two thick fingers into your hole, stretching you open for him. The intrusion was quite a bit less gentle than you were used to from him, drawing a shocked whimper from you, but you soon began to relax once more when he curled up into your sweet spot, sending you boneless.
“D-Daddy,” You whined, nails biting into his shoulders. “Hurts… Slow, slower…”
A shiver rolled over his body, that of immediate guilt. He knew he was being a little rough with you, and he certainly didn’t want to hurt you, but…
“Fuck, I can’t help it,” He groaned, “Been thinking about this pussy all night, princess, I need you like air…”
You could hear the desperation in his tone, and even more you could feel it in the way he touched you like he was starving, like he was stranded in the desert and you were an oasis. Softened by this– and entirely hypnotized by his praise– you resigned to the feeling, allowing him to play with your body as he pleased. He was rutting into nothing without even thinking about it, his cock woefully hard and straining against the front of his grey sweatpants.
He wanted to prepare you properly, he really did, but he was so revved up and needy, he didn’t want to risk blowing his load anywhere but inside you. That wasn’t an option. Hands shaking, he pulled away from you just long enough to kick his sweatpants off and reach for one of those condoms, silently resenting the fact that he had to wear one at all, but he had an appearance to keep up.
He tore the package open haphazardly with his teeth and rolled the condom on, shuddering deeply. His grasp was tight on your thigh as he pulled it up and over his hip, his other hand pushing your dainty purple panties aside to guide his cock into the heavenly, pillowy walls of your ethereal cunt.
Fuck, you were so fucking tight, clenching around him, whimpering and whining and writhing like a perfect little puppy in heat. Leon’s teeth sank into your shoulder as he bottomed out in you, and he almost could have sworn he felt the tip of the condom rip open even wider. The image alone had him moaning like an animal, pinning your quivering body to his own while he rolled his hips, fucking you deep and hard and slow, savoring every single stroke of your slippery walls around his aching cock. Every meeting of your hips was joined by obscene squelching with the way you were practically sucking him in.
“G-God, fuck,” Leon growled, his face contorted with pleasure. You and Leon had always had what you considered to be an active and healthy sex life, but you’d never seen him quite so beside himself with raw lust. Whatever drove him in that moment was primal, and you could feel it in his every movement, his every breath, see it in the wild look in his eyes.
His pupils were like dinner plates as he gazed down at you, stamping your forehead with kisses and feeling over every inch of your body. “Look at you, just look at you… Such a perfect little dolly for daddy to love on forever and ever, huh? Oh, my princess…”
You were lightheaded with arousal, every nerve ending in your body lighting up with white hot pleasure. You could barely even form a sentence, just nodding along as he moaned out his praise and letting him manhandle you like a ragdoll. Perhaps his words had more than a modicum of truth to them.
“F-Feels so… so… fuck, daddy, feels so good,” You babbled mindlessly, head falling back to the pillows beneath you. He was overwhelming your senses, taking over every corner of your mushy brain. The room was dark and you were still a bit delirious with sleep and to that effect, nothing existed in your world right now but daddy, daddy, daddy…
He laughed softly, pressing a kiss to the spot on your shoulder he’d so harshly bitten earlier, the pace of his thrusts not faltering for a second. “Yeah? I’ll bet it does, judging by the look on you,” He teased, nipping at your throat. “So pretty when you’re all fucked out.”
Your back was arching up off the bed, your eyes rolling back and your walls pulsing around him. Addicted to eliciting pleasured reactions from you, Leon wedged one hand between your two bodies, flattening his palm on your lower belly before pressing down.
Stars. You saw stars. A broken, high-pitched cry ripped from your throat, and you didn’t even have the capacity to hope the neighbors didn’t think you were being murdered, because you didn’t care. You could feel every rigid inch of him inside you, dragging over every nerve, his cock stuffed so deep that you swore you could feel him in your throat. Toes curling and your nails raking down his naked back, tears were beginning to prick at your eyes– you were close.
That was a good thing, though, considering he was too, and he could only hope the wet heat of your release would mask the feeling of his own. Leon sealed his lips over your own once more, swallowing your broken, needy cries as he fucked you to completion, letting his hand fall a little bit lower until his fingertips were on your clit again.
Your body twitched at the stimulation, thighs clamping down tight around his hips as you sobbed into his mouth and soaked his cock with your gushing sex. “Daddy,” You wept, clinging to him for dear life as he fucked you through your high, his own spilling out in sync. “Daddy, daddy, daddy…”
“Shh, I’ve got you, baby, I’m right here,” He cooed, taking your bottom lip playfully between his teeth before pressing a gentle kiss to the tip of your nose. “Just stay put, you’re doing so good for me, angel…”
His hips continued to piston forward as he hoped to force as much of his cum into you as he could manage, while still maintaining the believable illusion of protection. He intended to put every last one of those tampered-with condoms to use, though he wondered silently to himself if you might give up and just let him take you raw once you were to inevitably find out you’re pregnant.
You were a weeping, shivering mess in his arms, thighs clenching and twitching around him as he shushed you and babied you, petting your hair away from your tear-stained face and stamping you with delicate kisses, still stuffing his cum into you with shallow thrusts. He couldn’t wait to see you blossom right before his eyes. He couldn’t wait for you to realize your purpose was right here with him. He couldn’t wait to have you to himself for the rest of your days, his princess.
Leon remained sheathed deep within you, even as he softened, wanting to make sure you stayed plugged up well. But, he also couldn’t resist the warmth and wetness of you, how comforting it felt to be enveloped by you.
“You just stay put right there, okay, princess?” He reiterated quietly, lips brushing over your brow in a loving kiss. “Want you to keep daddy warm for the rest of the night. Can you do that for me?”
As if he even had to ask. You would have done practically anything for him when reduced to such a bleary, agreeable state of mind. He knew you all too well.
You just nodded like a bobblehead, dreamy, doe eyes staring up at him through teary lashes, hanging off his every word like gospel. He tucked you in even closer to his chest, cradling you with such adoration, his hips rocking forward every now and then just to get a reaction out of you, and to remind himself this was real.
He wasn’t at all surprised that you were able to fall asleep like that, stuffed full of cum and sated like a good little princess deserved to be. In a perfect world, you would never have to move again, just stay there in his lap forever and soak up every drop of him you could take.
In the coming weeks, that box of condoms wouldn’t last long. The only thought on his mind day in and day out was bending you over every surface in the apartment, and you thought nothing of it. Of course you noticed his sudden, insatiable lust for you, but you assumed it was a symptom of knowing his beloved girlfriend was just a few short months away from potentially leaving. He was only grasping at every inch of you he could commit to memory, right?
In all fairness to you, you weren’t exactly that far off.
Your tired eyes pried open at the familiar feeling of Leon rutting up against you, gripping at your hips like you would disappear if he didn’t. The morning sun was just barely beginning to peek through the windows and the bed was warm, it was a lovely way to wake up, one you would never get tired of.
Or at least you never thought you would. You loved Leon— and his sexual prowess— very dearly, but you also loved being able to sleep through an entire night without interruption, and you hadn’t been getting much of that over the past several weeks.
“Mnh… Leon, babe,” You grumbled, burying your face back into your pillow. “Not today. I’m exhausted.”
He was taken aback by this at first, and then his expression fell with disappointment. Leon had gotten so used to breeding you dumb every morning before work that he wasn’t confident he could go back to functioning without it. Regardless, Leon knew that continuing his attempt to seduce you while you were this grouchy would be a death sentence, so he opted to take the path of least resistance.
After the moment or two it took for him to process that decision, Leon’s touches quickly shifted from provocative to soothing– he was no longer grasping at your hips but wrapping you up in his arms, pressing gentle kisses to your temple and cheekbone as if to regain your good favor.
You hummed contentedly, relaxing back into his embrace. Leon always warmed up like a heater in the night, and you were more than happy to bask in it. His muscular frame was like a weighted blanket and his presence alone was usually enough to knock you out like a light, but for some reason, you were struggling to fall back asleep. Every second felt like five minutes and despite your best efforts– and your complete and utter exhaustion– sleep refused to reclaim you.
Biting back the urge to blame Leon for waking you up in the first place, you huffed out a breath and rolled over in his arms, hoping the change in position might be just what you needed.
Wrong. Very, very wrong. Something about the movement made you dizzy, nauseous, your stomach twisting into knots. You wanted to say something, but you weren’t even sure what to say. It came on so suddenly that it caught you off guard and you weren’t even fully confident you would be able to get up at first.
You whined his name quietly, nuzzling into his chest and wrenching your eyes shut in an attempt to reorient yourself, your arms closing around your middle instinctively.
“You alright? What’s the matter?” Your sweet boyfriend asked quietly, brows furrowing with concern. He could feel your body trembling against his own, your back rising and falling with short, shallow breaths.
Now it was your throat tightening, too, and the second your mouth started to flood with saliva, you knew what was about to happen. Leon didn’t stop you when you writhed out of his embrace and stumbled out of bed, depending on muscle memory alone to get yourself to the bathroom with how woozy and ill you felt.
You just barely made it to the toilet in time to vomit. The cold tile felt nice on your knees, but the impact, not as much. It wasn’t long before Leon materialized at your side with a glass of water and a cold washcloth to hold over your forehead, rubbing your back and already silently conspiring to call out of work and give his poor, sick angel the princess treatment all day.
You collapsed back into his chest with a deep shudder, reaching for the water in a desperate attempt to wash the taste of bile from your mouth. He ended up grabbing it for you, raising it to your cracked lips and helping you take slow, measured drinks.
“There you go, pup,” He hummed, rocking you gently in his lap, his poor little darling princess. “I’m sorry you’re not feeling well.”
Your eyes fluttered closed, a sense of relief washing over you at last. Maybe you just caught a bug, or ate something your body didn’t agree with, or your stress and exhaustion were finally catching up to you. Surely you would feel better within a few days.
“I’m okay,” You whispered, reaching for his hand and squeezing it affectionately. “Thanks for taking care of me.”
Leon smiled, a burst of warmth spreading through his chest. You couldn’t possibly imagine what that meant to him, considering he chose to interpret it in whatever way felt most validating. After all, no one could take care of you like Leon could, and they wouldn’t have the chance to try, anyway. Not over his dead body.
Stooping down to kiss the crown of your head, Leon’s every word was thick with syrupy sweetness, “My baby, I would be so lost if I didn’t. Taking care of you is like breathing to me.”
And he meant every part of it. He didn’t just mean it, he showed it. He showed it when he held your hair back, and he showed it when you realized you couldn’t even remember when you’d had your last period. He showed it when you sent him to the drugstore in the middle of the night for pregnancy tests, and he showed it when you broke down crying at the results, wondering how this could have happened.
His favorite part was showing it when you tearfully called your parents and told them you were staying in Raccoon City, not because you had found a job, but because you were pregnant.
“I can’t believe they’re choosing to react like this, sweetheart, I’m so sorry. They should be happy for you, and it’s awful that they’re anything but happy for you,” He said, voice low and soothing, tone purposeful. “I’ve got you, princess. I’ve got you. I’m gonna take good care of you and this baby, and we’re gonna be happy. Alright?”
Leon tipped your chin up with his knuckle, making you look at him. Your cheeks were red and your eyes were puffy with tears, droplets still clinging to your little dolly eyelashes.
It was hard not to believe him when he spoke with such conviction, when he looked at you with those rich blue eyes that bled from an endless well of love. The pad of his thumb skimmed over your pouty bottom lip as you unknowingly submitted to his grand design.
#venustext#sintext#resident evil#leon kennedy#yandere!leon kennedy#dark!leon kennedy#leon kennedy x reader#yandere!leon kennedy x reader#dark!leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy smut#leon kennedy x you
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ᥫ᭡ . # ۫ , ⸺ UNCHAINED MELODY, PART SIX !
summary :: surviving raccoon city together, you catch the affections of leon kennedy, ada wong, jill valentine, and carlos oliveira. six years later, you reunite with them and realize their obsession with you has increased tenfold.
chapters :: the masterlist.
word count :: 12.3k.
content warnings :: mdni! yandere!leon, yandere!ada, yandere!jill, yandere!carlos, gender neutral reader, smut (not involving reader), murder, death, violence/gore, suic1dal tendencies, suic1de attempt, alcoholism, weaponry, panic attacks, ptsd, hallucinations, & sleep paralysis.
leon kennedy's yandere traits are . . .
clingy, heroic, & territorial
──── Leon Kennedy hates sunlight in his eyes. Yet still, he finds himself basking in the warm rays.
When the sun hits the window just right, ensnaring the room in its golden hues, he bathes in its light the same way he'd lay in a hot bath. The lulling warmth melts his muscles and eases his body. After he falls asleep in the office after another unsuccessful investigation, your sunset is there for him. When he passes out after a drunken night at the bar, your sunrise is there for him. You're looking down at him always, embracing him in splotches of sunlight.
For a while, Leon thought he knew what it meant to be alive. To touch the hands of guttural pain; to feel the jagged juts of his past nestle against him. But, after that horrid night six years ago, after the exposure to sunshine he did not know existed, he truly touched the scorching surface of rock bottom.
And it is killing him. All because of a singular person.
Y/N L/N. The name he will never forget.
Leon remembers your exuberant eyes, your adorable mannerisms, the glimmer of your smile; he will never forget how you sparked the beginning of his life in Raccoon City.
He remembers the orange lights had swayed in his vision. How everything was stuck in a blistering sea of vertigo. Listening to the fire crackle and creatures groan, Leon coughs from the tickle caught in his throat. There is a weight pressed to his chest, something akin to a cushion. White. Artificial fabrics, a plastic touch. An airbag, maybe?
September 28th of 1998. The memories all return to him like a violent supercut. The yell of his name, the squeal of the brakes, the collision afterward. His precious Jeep Wrangler had now been flipped upside down and he was now caught in the savagery of the aftermath. The blood rushing to his head has the world swirling around him, lulling him into another state of unconsciousness. Leon touches the passenger seat with his red hands, terror ensnaring him upon realizing the seat was empty.
Something blurry in his trail of vision grips his attention. Through the shattered window, a figure stumbles through the brume of the flickering streetlights. Blue glares frame the dirt-stained "R.P.D" sign and the figure hastens towards its doors.
A whimper of your name is stuck on his tongue, as words get trapped in his congested throat. Don't leave me. In Leon's efforts to escape, his foot gets caught on the gear shift. He pulls with all his might, despite the twists and strains his ankle endures. Y/N, please don't. Shards of glass fall from his hair as he wrestles his way out. A few pieces manage to leave shallow nicks against his flesh. Come back to me.
Leon then plummets to the wet pavement, finally free of his demolished car. Frivolous debris and fresh corpses litter his path. His newly-purchased white sneakers (which he bought solely to show off to you) are splattered in the disgusting matter. Stumbling, he is able to persevere through all of this and he quickly trudges through the wreckage.
Leon barrels through the doors of the R.P.D. and surges through the police department. Bullets pierce through the skulls of pedestrians and coworkers roaming the building. Blood paints his body like rainfall. All while he is searching for the face that will end the torment reigning havoc through his mind.
The holding cells are inspected thoroughly while Leon's disposition is one of acute desperation. The adjacent areas are consumed with infected prisoners, all of which he promptly executes. Much to his dismay, however, the rookie does not find you sitting at a bench or clinging to the rusted bars. It is all empty, leading him to become more frantic in his search for you.
Something navy blue then captures his attention. Left on the floor of a cell is a name tag. Something small and wet with blood.
Leon takes the object into his fingers. His heart wrenches when he reads the name stamped on the plastic. The familiar "Mizoil Gas Station" is printed above "Y/N L/N".
A gasp fills the empty silence. Y/N... Where did you go? Why did you leave me?
"Hey.”
He jerks around to the intruding voice.
"Who is that?"
"Stay sharp."
Behind him is a rotting face with dead, paper-white eyes staring right through him. The zombie towers over him, growling for a bite. Leon yanks Matilda from his holster. The action is swift. Adept. Exactly the way he was trained. The echo of a gunshot permeates through the large expanse and fuses with the squelching sounds of brain matter oozing from the zombies' open skull. The corpse falls to the grimy floors with a thud and once more, silence returns.
The click of stiletto heels treads closer to Leon. On the threshold of the prison cell, a woman walks into his train of vision.
Ada Wong.
Finally, a human! Leon thinks to himself. He is quick to take advantage of the company of a normal, uninfected person. The pestering questions he has all tumble out out his mouth like an avalanche of blabbering nonsense.
"Please, you have to help me! I-I'm looking for someone!"
Her lack of articulation urges Leon to continue.
"My name is Leon Kennedy."
He takes a breath before continuing.
"The person I'm looking for- they, um- they're about... this tall." He holds his flat hand up to demonstrate your height. "Their eyes are Y/E/C. Well, maybe not like an exact shade of Y/E/C. It's more like a softer, prettier-"
She scoffs, cutting him off from his incessant rambling. Turning her heel, Ada begins to walk away from the pathetic mess she stumbled upon.
"Wait! Their name is Y/N!”
The woman halts.
“Y/N L/N! Please, you have to help me find them!"
Body tense, her eyes peer at him through the dark barrier of her sunglasses. Her arms weaken, once sternly folded over her beige trench coat.
"They're my partner... Please..."
Ada's lips part. From them, a sharp inhale.
Leon begs her with desperate worry, encompassed in a vehement frame of mind. His plead is spoken with such clarity, Ada can only assume it as truth. And the prospect of you belonging to someone else cuts like a dull knife. It is gross, it is nauseating. Unnatural. Like worms slithering around in her stomach, trying to escape the heart-shattering effect this information has on her.
Then, there is the anger. The betrayal is like a song too loud, the resentment like sheer alcohol on her tongue. Everything manifests into a spirit so overwhelming that Ada cannot find air to breathe. This blanket of rage stirs with her sorrow like two conflicting chemicals. The reaction sparks something iniquitous.
So, in turn, she does what she does best.
Lie.
"Y/N is dead."
A silence settles in the room.
Leon stares. That is all he does.
He stares at Ada and tries to scrutinize her to find some other truth. Anything other than this.
"Ambushed. No possible way of getting them out of that mess..."
Ada speaks with defective emotion. The words land mercilessly and hit with ruthless force.
A harsh ringing noise permeates around Leon. He covers his ears, blunt nails digging into his scalp. He shakes his head no, as though he merely disagrees with fact. It's not true. It can't be! Losing grasp on the only good thing in his life is something he will not accept. He refuses to.
You are his sun. What is existence without its warmth? What will happen to Earth without its necessity?
How can he possibly survive without you?
Ada rolls her eyes at the dramatic scene now playing out at her hand. She ignores her own hypocrisy, of course. If she had learned of your demise, only God knows what blood-curdling reaction she would have. When it comes to Leon, however, every blink of his eye and twitch of his muscle has her riddled with irritation. Does he not know how lucky he is? Ada would endure any pain if she knew she had the comfort of calling you her lover. It is a dream she would kill to make reality.
Leon soon collapses to the floor. A shot of pain courses through his knees from landing harshly on the cement. His hand clutches over his heart, absolutely gutted by the torment forced upon the organ.
Ada then leaves this lie where she puts it down. She struts out of the prison cell, thus continuing her search for wherever in Raccoon City you may be.
You do not need a boyfriend. Especially one as pathetic as Leon Kennedy.
The man in question has been rendered into a puddle of blubbering nonsense. Questions still fill the silent air. How, when, why? Why did it have to be you? The one person on this disgusting planet who did not deserve it. Why couldn't you have just stayed with him and let him devote his life to protecting the precious gem of your life? Why? Why? Why?
Leon has already lost so much, you were the very last thing keeping him afloat. You are his life preserver in the middle of the ocean. He has now succumbed to the thrashing waves, as he was always destined to be swallowed by the sea. Saltwater permeates his lungs and his limp body sways with the lulling current. As though this is what his life was always meant to be: crawling after happiness just to have it yanked away when he gets too close. In the end, his sugar-sweet delusions will always sink down to the ocean floor.
Tears do not escape Leon, no matter the weight of the pain. He does not care for anything but you. Now that you have left him, nothing else matters. Therefore, no emotion can be elicited from him anymore. He has been touched so violently by this intensity, it eradicated any surviving nerves.
His handgun had been left on the ground, a few feet away from him. Assumably falling from his grasp after his knees gave out. He takes the weapon and it shivers in his trembling grasp. It's blurry in his gaze, as his entire vision is overwhelmed with stupor. Should he? God knows he wants to. What is there left to experience in life without you there with him?
As he guides the barrel of his gun to his temple, the static ringing in his ears accelerates in volume. Somehow, though, Leon does not feel fear. He does not feel anything. No dread, no despair — just sheer, hollow nothingness. It infuses his entire body like a roaming virus, ensuring it does not leave any traceable fragments of emotion.
A quivering finger hovers over the trigger. One pull and he will be free.
Leon presses his finger down.
Click.
Nothing.
Click. Click. Click.
Nothing happens.
Click. Click. Click. Click. Click. Click. Click.
"FUCK!"
Leon chucks the gun to the ground. His yell comes out guttural, a touch away from being a growl.
The clatter of Matilda's impact is not enough to appease him, as this swamped nothingness is more than he can endure. In a fit of defeat, Leon balls his fists and punches the cement floor. Agony surges through his entire hand and blood smudges his knuckles. The sound of his bones cracking still does not satisfy him in the slightest. Nothing can aid him now. Absolutely nothing.
With heavy legs, Leon stands to his feet. He holds his broken fist close to his chest and limps out of the empty prison cell. As he meanders through the station, he finds a set of car keys to a police cruiser on the corpse of his former co-worker. Despite claiming the title of "hero" when he first earned his badge, he does not intend to help anyone tonight. He couldn't save the only thing he ever loved, what kind of hero fails to do that?
The screaming of pedestrians and desperate pleas for help fall on deaf ears. The vehicle's engine rumbles and Leon's dead eyes stare at the road ahead. He leaves Raccoon City forever in his dust.
Six years have passed since the night you were taken from him. Leon wants to die, that much is for certain. The only thing preventing him from giving in is the fact that people need him. They all fail to see that he needs you, as he always will. Besides, he’s got some last few words he wishes to tell Umbrella before he bids this life farewell.
This is his life now. And in a morbid way, he thinks it is romantic. He read somewhere that if a swan dies, their surviving mate will fly into the sky and let themselves plummet to their death. Is that you and him? Should he put the final puzzle piece in your happily-ever-after and end it all? When the sun shines through the window and he wakes up without you again, however, Leon cannot romanticize the empty shell he is trapped within. He is desperate to know why you couldn't have taken his body with you on your way to heaven. Why death couldn’t have brought him eternal peace the very second you passed.
These several years have been spent drowning in alcohol. Leon has no preference for whatever booze he consumes, either. Anything that will make him forget it all will do the trick. At the bar with concerned bartenders or in his almost-empty liquor cabinet at home — he’ll take whatever he can get his hands on.
All his nights are now spent beneath the golden lights of the local bar. Dawn is spent crying on the kitchen floor with a queasy stomach. His days are all the same, too. Saving the lives of helpless citizens, he never forgets how the glimmer of gratitude in their eyes should have been yours.
This night in particular was no different. Leon has nearly drunk the entire bar's alcohol supply in hours. He imbibes a glass of whiskey and cringes at the cheap taste. Too sweet. Poorly made. He does not mind this, however, as anything that can ease the pain is satisfactory enough. And just like any other night, Leon is thinking of you. He watches the ice cubes dance in the cup, arms lazily resting on the sticky countertop. If only things were different, then he wouldn't have to be in this shit-hole right now. He could spend all his nights with you, instead. God, he misses you.
"You look lonely."
Leon didn't have to look up from his glass to know what was happening. At a place like this, it was inevitable.
He never took to heart whenever his coworkers teased him with names such as "pretty boy" or "Leonardo DiCaprio." It seemed to be a "chick magnet," as they so called it. So, when another stranger approaches him with that familiar glint in their eye, he knows what they want from him.
"I can fix that."
Leon looks to where the woman is sitting beside him. Like he does with every courting, he searches her for any remnants of you. If he were honest with himself, these people served as a good distraction. Enough bottles and he can delude his fuzzy brain into believing it was you standing beside him instead of another stranger.
The sight is blurred from his intoxicated state, but his judgment is clear as day. Her face shape and height contrast from yours. She is an inch or two shorter. Her smirk is sensual, not as toothy and adorable as your vivacious smile. Her body is entirely different, as well. Too bony, with wonky proportions that were nothing like you. The only similarity was her eye color. Your exuberant shimmer was missing, but the collection of hues shared puny similarities.
Eh. Good enough.
"Daddy! S-So big- fuck!"
The blaring sounds of heavy rock playing outside the motel room do not ease the headache Leon has, nor does the vociferous calamity of this woman. She doesn't sound anything like you. Too submissive, too goddamn insufferable. In his head, he can only imagine the dulcet sounds he could pull from your pretty lips. This woman was ruining that heavenly fantasy.
"I told you to be fucking quiet."
He uses his strength and pins her harder against the squeaking mattress. Insufferably irritating moans are muffled upon shoving that loud mouth into the pillows. Leon squeezes his eyes shut and puts all attention to the image he has painted in his mind.
You'd be different, much different. He can only imagine you beneath him like this. Harsh demands formed from your dulcet voice, commanding his every move and action. Telling your puppy dog to make you feel good with the promise of a reward — the thought alone never fails to send a shiver through his body. Leon is sure your golden voice praising him is all he needs to die happy.
"Fuck, 's too much. Daddy-"
The reverie shatters as quickly as it was formed. His calloused hands find the woman's hair and he forces her further into the pillows. She is not opposed to being treated roughly in the sheets, discernible in the way her moans and mindless babbles increase in volume.
"Shut your fucking mouth!"
Leon would be different, too. Much softer than this. He would handle every inch of your skin like he's unmasking an archeological masterpiece. God, he couldn't treat you roughly even if he wanted to. Ruin every orgasm of his, leave his body littered with bruises and scratches. He would be a slave to your every whim, as pain at your hand would bring him bliss like no other. And in return, Leon would still touch your body with the same glass-like softness he is only ever capable of treating you with.
He buries his face into the stranger's shoulder and inhales the scent of their perfume. It is nauseating and nothing like you. Artificially sweet and too strong. Leon desperately fills the plot holes in his fantasy and imagines you dolling yourself up for him. Maybe after a tireless day at work, he would arrive home to you greeting him with a surprise. Where you got all dressed up for his eyes only and allowed him to indulge in your body again and again and again and again.
He can only imagine the look in your eyes when you call him your puppy, your husband, your good boy.
The thought sends him over the edge.
It is not a euphoric unfolding. It is sharp. Gross and weak. It is merely something to help him get by, even just barely. At least tonight Leon was able to finish inside a warm body instead of the plastic toy he keeps in his bedside drawer.
He doesn't even remember the name of this stranger. However, that doesn't matter when loud whines of your name jump out of his throat instead. The word tumbles from his mouth as though if he spoke it enough, you would materialize into this bed with him.
The unsatisfied woman does not overlook this. Another person's name shamelessly moaned by the man she thought she would have some late-night fun with, is he serious? She rolls her eyes and escapes from his sweaty hold. As she dresses herself, rehearsing how she'll tell this horror story to her friends, Leon stays on the bed. He does not try to stop her from leaving.
The afterglow is feeble, but he merely pretends it is as strong as he knows it would be with you. He wants to ensnare his body around yours and reaffirm just how deeply he loves you. He just wants to be with you again, no matter what the circumstances are. In the sheets after Earth-shattering sex with the love of his life or back in the grimy streets of Raccoon City, he will take anything if it means looking into your eyes again.
The door closes with a slam. Leon is now alone. But, then again, how could he notice? It is what the past six years have looked like, after all.
2,327 days and counting since he lost you.
If you asked him all that time ago where he thought he'd be right now, he would answer with the hope and happiness he only had then. He'd sit cozy in the little cabin in the woods you and he would occupy, he was sure of it. Summers would be spent in the sunlit lakes and Winters would be spent huddling for warmth by the fireplace. Years would pass like this. All laughter and kisses, snuggles, and healing hearts.
These fantasies haunt him like a horror-flick ghost floating around an attic, as it is what his life could have been had he not failed to protect you. He could have you in his arms this very second, but because of his God-awful driving skills, your body was left behind in the rubble of Umbrella's mistakes. It is what he devoted his entire career to now: tearing down that damned corporation. It is why he is in this motel room, to begin with, where he rots in these musty sheets and sleeps with people he can't remember the names of.
Images of you and him sharing smiles flicker through his brain and lull him. Your eyes are the last thing Leon sees before he falls asleep.
It is a light slumber. He does not dream, he is merely unconscious. When he wakes an hour later, it is like he has not slept at all. As if the short period of time passed in a sheer blink. This is what his sleeping schedule normally looks like nowadays, complemented by the heavy, storm-grey bags beneath his eyes.
The sheet draped over his waist leaves him cold. The Winter weather creeps into the room and engulfs his naked skin in goosebumps. When Leon tries to grasp more of the cheap blankets to drape himself in, he is at a loss when he finds himself unable to move. Almost as though a weight had forced him back onto the bed. He can't move even a muscle; he is wholly and utterly paralyzed.
There's a soft footstep that permeates. Leon's eyes dart around the room, but there is nothing to perceive in the dark emptiness. When he tries to open his mouth and question if that woman has returned, his jaw remains locked shut.
Another footstep. He searches for anything to defend himself from whatever monster lurks in the shadows.
Then, another step. There is no doubting someone is in this room with him. He tries to regain mobility of his body, scrambling to use his fists or to find his gun.
"Leon?"
Something blooms within him. A vibrant, healthy flower persevering through the fiery ashes.
"It's me..."
Home. That is the only word Leon could use to explain your voice. Like the swirling scent of oven-fresh cookies made by his grandmother. Like the imagination in his mother's voice when she read him a bedtime story. Like the scent of freshly mowed grass when he plays outside after school. The cadence and inflection of your words bring a sense of comfort like no other. Honey-sweet in the purest form.
Through the dust-ridden curtains, the hues of streetlight seep into one corner of the room. You step into the light, midnight shadows framing your features. You're dressed in the exact clothing he last saw you wearing, in the absence of all that blood and grime from that night. Those beautiful, beautiful eyes bore into him as you step closer. Sitting down on the edge of the mattress, a smile grows on your lips and robs him of all coherent function.
Leon can't but wonder if this was it, if he had died on this disgusting motel bed and you were finally taking him back into your arms. He doesn't even mind losing all sense of mobility, as long as you keep looking at him like that. Neither his face nor his body can physically react to the rush of emotion that comes with your presence, but it is more than perceptible in his eyes. Sky-gray irises drowned in oceans of fervor. Baby blues overwhelmed with shimmering, flamboyant love.
"If only you had just heard me out, then I could actually be with you right now." Your words, as heavenly as they sound, confuse Leon.
You tuck some fallen wisps of blonde hair away from his face and he swears it is real. His heart hammers like a snare drum. This is real, it must be real, it has to be.
"If only you had just looked at the damn road instead of me. Then neither of us would be in this mess, would we?"
Something shifts in your gaze. That smile he loves so much is torn away and replaced with a scowl. There is now a perceptible rage in your expression, drowned in hollow emotion that clenches his heart.
"And look at you now! Cheating on me with someone you knew for three fucking seconds!? Like everything we have means jack shit to you!"
No, no, no, no, no! It's not like that! She means nothing, she is nothing! He only used her as a placeholder for you! There isn't a single redeeming feature about her that compares to you. Jesus Christ, how could he want anyone else when you exist?
Leon tries to respond, he really does. He wants to tell you how sorry he is, how badly he wishes he could go back six years and change it all. How many hours he has spent with his hands clasped in prayer, apologizing relentlessly to the sky and hoping you'll hear him from down here. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry.
You stand from the bed, hands balled into fists at your side. "You're not gonna say anything? Just lay there and look at me like I'm nothing but-!"
A figure then barrels at you from the shadows. Your infuriated rant was cut short with a gut-wrenching shout when you are knocked to the ground. Saturated flesh peeking from dead skin and groans of hunger plunging from their slack mouth — a zombie had leaped from the darkness and sunk its teeth into your shoulder. Blood spouts from your wound and cascades down your body. You plead for Leon to help you, that he not leave you behind like he did all those years ago. And so desperately, Leon tries to.
A scream is locked behind his closed mouth as he tries to wrestle his way back to you. It pries and fights to escape, as though the force of his shout would be enough to convince this brainless creature to leave you be. Eyes blown wide with dizzying panic, all he can do is watch. His toned chest, sheen with sweat, rises and falls with rapid movements. Muffled whimpers of horror escape from the subtle crease of his mouth.
With every beating second your life fades away, the more Leon latches to any vigor he can grasp. His efforts to save you are overwhelmed in sheer desperation. He cannot let this happen all over again; he cannot lose you a second time. It would kill him, he is sure of it.
Something twitches in his finger. Then his foot. And for a moment, hope flickers in his mind. He can save you and atone for what he failed to do before. When the squelching sounds of flesh torn asunder fill the silence, that hope wears thin.
Like a bag of sand, Leon is able to drag his limp body across the mattress. His jaw weakens, to where sounds of despair are granted the ability to escape in roaring fervency. Off the side of the bed with the speed of a slug, he hits the ground with a harsh thud. Hauling himself onto his stomach, a verbiage of your name leaves his mouth.
He begins to crawl helplessly to where you are, only to stop in his efforts when he finds nothing. The lights from outside still seep into the room and the racket sounds of rock music still play from a room over. But, you have vanished. Leon stares at where you had fallen, scrutinizing every detail for any resemblance of you.
Misery strikes like a gunshot through his chest. Why did he fail again? Why can't he be enough, even for just once?
Why do you always leave him in the end?
He is alone again. Sat by himself on top of the soiled motel carpet and used condom he had frivolously thrown across the room. But, once again, how could he notice? It is what the past six years have looked like. And now, it is what the rest of his life will likely be encompassed in — empty solitude and hopeless dreams of you.
Leon does not sleep for the rest of the night. He is far too restless from the stressful events, terrified of watching that scene play out all over again. The digital clock on the bedside table provided minimum light, where the vibrant red numbers tick away. All he does is lie in this mess, watching the hours drift away.
A dark blue soon ensnares the sky. Birds squawk and sing. Dawn has finally arrived and so does the sun, bathing the room in its glowing orange and pink hues.
Your sunrise welcomes him, once again. The warmth and its serenity fails to placate him, though. Sitting here, he realizes how much of a fool he was to believe it was you in some form. The very second you left, you took everything warm and bright with you. You left him cold and empty and lifeless. You nestled the sun behind your resting eyes when your life faded away.
Cuddling up with you in that imaginary cabin is the only thing that can vitalize him. Two cups of steaming tea, watching the wind sway through the trees from the porch. Oh, the things Leon would take to bring this fantasy to life. To bring you back into the warmth of his arms is all he could ever need, where you will be safe and forever alive.
6:02 AM on the clock, Leon is expected at work in the following hour. Without a morsel of energy left in his feeble body, the thought of standing on this grimy floor overwhelms him with disdain.
Despite how badly he wishes to beat all scientists involved with Umbrella to a bloody pulp, he must take a course of action that abides by legal standards. To do this, Leon must work behind the scenes, ensuring every nail and screw is fastened with flawless finesse. This slow journey toward his goal of tearing Umbrella to shreds has taken a toll on him. No punching bag to take his rage out and his anger nestles itself into his body. Once Umbrella is six feet under, only then will he grant himself permission to join you and let Earth reclaim his body.
Today, Leon is now a part of the Torrents: a Capture-Force team designated to take down Umbrella's rumored return and prosecute those working for them. He has been assigned to replace someone on the team upon their suspension for "severe mental issues,” or whatever that entails. Alcohol heavy on his breath and bags beneath his eyes, Leon arrives at work for the day. He walks through the doors of a sanctuary Umbrella was confirmed to have been located at but has since fled from.
"You're late."
Leon doesn't care to look at the voice, as he already acknowledged and dismissed the vibrant "7:39 AM" on his wristwatch. They should be grateful he was even here in the first place and not rotting in bed.
"Not exactly rooting for employee of the month. Do I look the type?"
Leon's comment causes him to let out a quick huff of laughter. This new guy is much more amusing than his previous coworker, after all.
"Tyrell. Call me 'T."
He takes his hand out for Leon to shake, which he ignores. Tyrell stuffs his hand back into his pocket upon his refusal to reciprocate. An awkward silence settles between them.
"Leon. But, you knew that already."
The blonde then walks away from his new acquaintance. He can't recall the last time he had one, no less a genuine friend. The only person he put honest effort into discerning was you. Everyone else was just painfully bleak background noise stood behind your radiant aura. There is no one in the universe he wishes to befriend anymore, not when you're gone.
Leon treads through the building in search of the office organized by the team. Working behind a desk provides him his wanted rest, but taking part in the action scene provides an acute distraction. With his hands covered in blood and his fingers reeking of gunpowder, it is the most peace he can feel. Punch after punch, shots upon shots — the thought of you is eased little by little. The memory of you still lives on, but it is ephemeral moments like this where Leon can forget it all.
Several workers walk through the halls with heavy boxes marked "EVIDENCE". Others photograph imperative scenery around them, while some are busy scribbling on their notepads. Leon passes all of them without a second thought. However, two of his coworkers in particular capture his attention.
They both guide a surviving patient through the hallway. A young man holding a file in his hands and a perceptible fear in his eyes. The man then swiftly, albeit pathetically, throws himself at Leon and the file is shoved against his chest upon impact. A few of the files' contents slip from the folder and splat against the tiled floors. Hands curled around the sheepskin hems of his jacket, the man begs Leon for his help.
"Please, you have to help me! I-I'm looking for someone."
Leon's stare is harsh. Cold and empty. Any living creature would surely keel over beneath that terrifyingly vacant gaze. The man, riddled with desperation, perseveres through this fear and continues to plead.
"They're my best friend... Please..."
The guards quickly shuffle over to the scene. Their hands grip the man's shoulders, but do not apply any further pressure. They look to Leon, waiting for the demand of their superior.
And without breaking eye contact, Leon speaks.
"Get him out of my sight."
They do as told, nearly shoving the man to the ground in their efforts to escort him out of the building. The hopeless gleam in his eyes should have sparked some form of guilt within Leon. Looking into that man's eyes, however, he feels nothing. Leon instead shifts his gaze to the ground. There, right beneath his boot, the sight of something causes his heart to quicken. Swiftly taking it into his gloved hands, his breath is then yanked from his chest.
In the polaroid is no other than you.
Snow engulfs the ground and you’re dressed in a large coat that practically swallows you whole. Pine trees blanketed in the white matter surround you. With chunky mittens on, you form a heart with your hands. Snowflakes descend from the sky, a few landing on your shoulders and knitted hat. Behind you, a stack of plastic sleds. You're captured with that smile of perfection on your face, the very smile that could rival the sun.
How...?
How did he have this? Leon could've sworn he had every picture of you...
He crosses the hallway in several large strides and finds him in mere seconds. With every sliver of strength in his body, Leon tears the man from the grasp of the guards and shoves him against the wall.
"Where did you get this!?" His voice has been reduced to a gruff timbre. A horrifying whisper.
Gesturing at the Polaroid, the man looks at him in bewilderment.
"W-What are you talking about-?"
Leon's forearm pushes against the base of his throat, pressing harder and arousing choked gasps from his throat.
"I won't ask you again..."
"Me! Me, I-I took it! I took the picture!" The man, wide-eyed and terrified, desperately exclaims the truth. However, his answer seemed to be the exact opposite of what his interrogator wished for.
Calloused hands clasped around his collar, Leon pulls the man back before shoving him back into the wall. A blood-curdling crack, then a grunt pervades the air. The unmistakable scent of iron diffuses from the man's skull, inevitable from the force of the hit. Leon practically snarls through his heavy breaths.
"When!? When'd you take this fucking picture!?"
The man slurs out his answer, now rendered delirious from the strike his head endured.
"Jan... January... La-Last January..."
The world then shatters around Leon.
The tumultuous clamor of everything falling apart before his eyes robs him of any coherent, proper function. These past six years play out like another nightmare. Every sip of alcohol, every aimless nightmare, every mediocre hookup — it all crumbles and joins the rubble of the destruction.
This whole time... This whole time you...
His vision blurs as the revelation settles, swimming through a void of vertigo and devastation. A sharp ringing permeates around him. It complements the sound of his hyperventilating breaths and hammering heartbeat. The firm grasp he once held on the man weakens, to where he scrambles away from Leon and his violent antics.
This whole time you were...
Alive...?
Leon turns his feet and stumbles away. Sweat seeps down his face and then his neck, staining the musk-stained clothes he had not washed in weeks. The sheer luminosity of the white lights, white walls, and white floors do not aid him in his attempts to soothe his sorrows. There's a sudden tightness in his chest. Leon brings his hand up to the painful ache, falling in his efforts to mend his affliction, once again.
"Are you alright, sir?"
The new voice could easily be spoken from miles away. Vanished and impossible to discern. Leon tries to clutch the walls to maintain his stability, but this inevitably fails him, as the shock derived from this epiphany sends his weak body to the unforgiving ground.
"I'm dying..."
He can hardly recognize his own voice. It is now a higher, fearful pitch than he is used to. The other person speaks once more, but he cannot perceive what was said. Their words are merely a quiet boat in a thrashing ocean.
"I can't breathe. I can't breathe."
This feeling of realization bubbles in his chest and infiltrates every inch of his form. His chest is overwhelmed with panicked breaths. Up and down, up and down. The stranger then sprints away from Leon. Their shouts for a doctor are distorted, now an echo Leon cannot discern.
Voices from his past speak to him from all directions. As though the very walls surrounding him were taunting him. Mocking every failure of his.
"Leon- LEON-!!"
"And look at you now! Cheating on me with someone you knew for three fucking seconds!?"
"I wanted to. I wanted to kill him."
"Ambushed. No possible way of getting them out of that mess..."
"If only you had just looked at the damn road instead of me."
His world has been torn to paper-thin shreds. Then, it all goes dark. Leon is left alone and unconscious in this vast abyss of nothingness.
Tyrell sighs in frustration. He wonders why this team has such a knack for hiring people with "severe mental issues".
A harsh cut to reality is what Leon was next met with. Inside this shoebox-sized hospital room, ragged belts are restrained around his limbs. Doctors rush in and out of the blinding-white room. A myriad of drugs course in his system, intended to ease the rampant panic pumping through his body. The aftermath of his panic attack was fresh, yet still, all Leon could think about was you.
How you, his sunshine, his sweet baby, have been alive all this time.
Leon thrashes and fights against his restraints, as though you were just outside the door, waiting for him to come scoop you in his arms and close the distance between you at once. For the umpteenth time, several nurses race into the room and sedate him. Again, he is forced into another fit of unconsciousness. This routine will go on to repeat numerous times. Knowing you are out there somewhere, alone, makes for a man inconsolable.
Several days pass before Leon is brought to a state of mediocre tranquility. His heart is still rampant, but with fear of more time wasted without taking proper action, he abides by the doctor's demands. He will do anything to get to you, after all. Kneel before God, succumb to the Devil. Face him with the most torturous, humiliating, gut-wrenching fate with the promise of your return and he will simply smile in response. Leon will lay with blood painting his teeth and purple bruises caked into his skin, unhinged with euphoria knowing you are the prize at the end of the tunnel.
Mere picoseconds had passed before he sprung into action. He is swift to return to his work. Fervently, he begins scouring through every detail Umbrella left behind to pinpoint the exact location you reside at.
The most valuable piece of evidence was security camera footage. A prominent clue that made Leon's stomach coil like a snake ensnaring itself around its prey. Outside of the window to your bedroom, the night-vision camera highlights the scene of two intruders. With careful ease, they pull your unconscious body through the room and flee to the adjacent forest with you in their arms.
Jill Valentine and Carlos Oliveira are their names.
Or, as Leon prefers to refer to them, two names that have now been added to his lengthy list of those who will face his wrath.
The team has theorized the two have been working for Umbrella and were assigned to sneakily escort survivors to a new location. Due to this, patients still in this present location are now being sent to a hospital guarded by the Torrents. A place where they will be kept far away from Umbrella's grasp. What the team can't piece together, however, is why the two never came back to take more survivors. They had plentiful opportunities, but you, Y/N L/N, are the only missing patient. Or, as the team has now assigned your code name as, "Baby-Eagle".
Now, Leon is coursing through Spain. Guns strapped in their holster, knives out at the ready, and a reveling rage in his eyes — he counts every second spent away from you. The chilling temperatures gust against his skin like sharp teeth as he practically tears the country asunder. All that matters is finding the face that has been stamped in every dream of his for the past six years.
Alive. Alive. Alive.
He still can't believe it. You are alive.
If Leon grants himself permission to revel in this fact, he will lose what little control he still possesses over himself. God knows how much he needs the slivers that still remain. These feelings, despite all, have kindled strength Leon never recognized. A new spark; a fresh, riveting chapter. Emotions which only you, some sort of sorcerer, are capable of conjuring.
A day has now passed of his relentless search. More and more does fear cradle Leon. Like a warm blanket nestled around his heart, he is horrified by the silence that ventures through the land of Los Iluminados. The mere thought of potentially stumbling across you, lifeless, is enough to evoke a gag from the back of his throat. He cannot handle that. He cannot lose you again.
The dim light of dusk irradiates the loading docks. Every rushed step Leon takes causes the decrepit surface to moan weakly from the weight. He scrutinizes every shipping container, every nook and cranny, every barrel splattered with yellow paint. He becomes increasingly more ridden with desperation as his lasting hope begins to flicker.
Leon turns a corner and finds it: the sight he has been crying every night to see for six years. His mouth speaks before his brain can emulate these soul-crushing sensations.
"Y/N...!?"
You turn your head to the intrusion. Leon is shocked he had not died right there beneath your gaze.
You, his epic, undying love, rest there as though Botticelli painted you as the focal point for 'Birth of Venus'. Sat against some paper sacks like Venus stood on her scallop shell, Leon has never seen a sight quite as perfect as this. Strikingly similar to the pearl Venus resembles, you and her are pure and exquisite as you are brought to life. In a way, it is precisely the events which take place now. Six years wrestling with the burden of your death, only for you to be reborn before his very eyes like the natural, divine God you are. Absolutely, irrevocably perfect in your stance.
Leon stands frozen in place. Staring at this work of art, this utter masterpiece mere yards away from him. He is then taken aback when he feels something wet trickle down his cheeks. What he assumes to be rainfall is actually... tears?
All these years, he has begged the universe to feel his emotions. Or to feel anything, for that matter. It will not bring you back, as he wholly prayed for every night, but it would bring temporary, weak relief. Right now, as though you had some form of superpower, Leon cries. He cries like he has never before. His face twists into an ugly scrunch; he can feel the hot tears and stringy snot seep down his skin. He listens to the gut-wrenching sobs protruding from his chest and holds his hand over his heart, overwhelmed by the intensity the organ is enduring.
Despite the tragic scene, Leon has never been happier. The journey these six years have taken him on has been rough. Irrevocably soul-crushing. Seeing you here, beautiful as you always were, makes everything worth it — utterly, indubitably, and completely.
Then, someone else interrupts.
Ada Wong, a few years older, steps into view. Guarding you from the unwelcome intruder.
The epiphany strikes like a broken heart. It is not betrayal, as he has never trusted Ada. Rather, it is a flood of humiliation. It is absolute shame, unadulterated and pure. How could he have been such a fool?
All this time, Ada had kept you with her. She was the reason he was apart from you; she was the distance that stood between two soulmates. That must be the story, right? She sunk those acrylic claws into your pretty skin and took you away from him, spewing lies about your death and granting Umbrella access to you.
Leon is hit with this epiphany. Hit with what he perceives to be the truth. And it makes him alive with rage.
"It was you, wasn't it...?"
The silence is shattered by his voice. Sewn with fury and nestled deep inside him. His attention, once solely devoted to the love of his life, has now been shifted towards someone else. The one he believes to be responsible for these six years of sheer agony.
"This whole fucking time-!"
In one swift motion, Leon storms over with his fingers clenched to his holster. You stand from the paper sacks and use your body as a shield between Ada and him. Your hand ghosts over Leon's chest to prevent any more unwanted violence. And how unaware you are of the sheer impact your physical touch has on this man.
For a moment, just a fleeting second, Leon is able to overlook the context of the circumstances. Your hand barely makes contact with his body, and from them, he can feel your warmth. The same warmth he has been chasing after; the same warmth he has killed himself over and over to try and retrieve again. It is like a gentle breeze, like tepid bath water. Somehow, your simple touch has pacified his rage as though it were merely child's play to you. Something Leon never thought was feasible.
And just like always, Ada Wong is there to shatter yet another trance.
"Have you really gone so far off the deep end, that you think you could ever amount to being their boyfriend? You truly believe you deserve that title?" Ada laughs. A deep, mocking chuckle. "Are you really that delusional or just naturally blonde?"
You look at Ada and speak for the first time.
"'Boyfriend?'"
An expression of puzzlement is plastered on your face. In return, their heads whip to stare at you, brows furrowed while searching for confirmation.
"I don't know what you're talking about. Leon was never my boyfriend...?"
Their confusion deepens. Ada questions how she could have so foolishly fallen for a fantasy this dumb boy created. Leon questions why you are telling her such lies. You've been dating for almost seven years now, what are you talking about?
"Y/N/N, you don't have to lie to her. You know I won't let her hurt you."
Now, it is your turn to be just as perplexed as they both are. What the fuck is he talking about?
As you're busy scrutinizing him for an explanation, Ada grasps hold of your forearm. Protectively and with softness, she guides you away from the deranged antics of Leon. You lean into her touch in response, as your trust in her is stronger than whatever you feel for him. Especially after the events you and Ada have both endured today.
The man in question, however, does not favor this action. With a swiftness that makes you dizzy, Leon shoves her off of you. Ada falls to the ground from the force of his strength but gracefully springs to her feet. Eyes narrowed and hunting knife in hand, she is ready for battle.
A shriek then falls from your mouth when Leon takes his pistol from its holster but is replaced with shocked silence when Ada kicks the gun from his grasp with her stiletto heel. A stab towards his chest is easily blocked by his meaty forearm, but she still manages to retaliate and surges a punch across his jaw.
Everything happens so fast that it is impossible for you to keep up with the speed of it all. When Ada drops to her feet, encasing her leg around Leon's ankles and sending him to the floor, the loud clamor of his harsh landing takes you back to a few days ago. That bang! is all too familiar. The fire of gunshots out of Jill's gun and the pounding of their fists against flesh — these memories return more harshly than before. Your heart hammers with dread and adrenaline, as though the same inner turmoil has returned yet again.
Once again, who do I choose? The clingy customer at Mizoil, the overly affectionate Superwoman, or myself?
In a state of pure instinct, you do what you predominantly fail at the most. Run.
You don't anticipate how close they may be behind, or if two of your past lovers may be waiting somewhere in the forest. You do not pay these thoughts any attention, for that matter. Focused entirely on the path ahead, you run like you never have before. And if it weren't for the rampant adrenaline coursing through your system, you could say you've become familiar with this forest. It is almost ridiculous how much you have raced past all these trees. Burning lungs, numb legs and all — oh, this is really getting old.
When a sudden force knocks you to your feet, you can feel yourself begin to succumb to lethargy. The relentless sprint and post-laser-induced pains have become too much for your body to endure. Shifting your gaze up, however, you are met with a burst of energy when you see that you have collided with... A person?
Thick gear is strapped to his strong body. Glasses are rested upon the bridge of his nose. This is the first stranger you have seen in months and you do not know how to handle it.
"Oh, shit. It's really you..." His concerned gaze peers at you through his foggy eyewear.
When his fingers ghost over your arm, you flinch away from him. You do not mean to do this, but your body, riddled with turmoil and trauma, reacts before your brain can.
"It's alright, it's alright..." His voice goes softer. "My name is Tyrell. I'm here to help you."
He reaches a cautious hand out to you, as though you were a feeble, terrified animal backed into a corner. Your trust has been worn thin, but whatever fight left in your system has entirely perished. You cannot run anymore; you cannot defend yourself. If this is death, then you will welcome it with open arms. At least you can say you've made it this far.
Lifting a shaky hand up, you let out a gentle gasp when you make physical contact with him. With tender encouragement, Tyrell brings you to your feet. Your tired legs wobble as though you were a baby fawn. Touch that does not inevitably follow with romantic expectations is something foreign to you. This level of kindness has almost become a stranger. Although you would never verbalize it, his touch feels good. It is a comfort; a softness.
Before you know it, your eyes flutter shut. Your body fails you and you collapse into Tyrell's arms. Now, unconsciousness comes as a solace, instead of that familiar trepidation.
And so engrossed in their own feral need for dominance, neither Ada nor Leon had taken notice of your sudden disappearance.
Fresh bruises and blood splatters permeate their bodies. What neither of them realizes about the other is that Leon fights hard, yes, but Ada doesn't fight fair. In a matter of several seconds, she takes the man to the metal floors, once again.
Leather heels pressed to his neck, she points his own pistol to his face.
"Now stay down."
Leon has never been one to back down. Even with death staring directly into his eyes, never once has he begged. However, with you here, alive, he can't bear to be torn from you again.
"Don't... Please, I-I'll do whatever you want. Just please don't take me away from them. Not again..."
Ada is nearly struck dumbfounded by this new side of him. Leon Kennedy, the savior of the president's daughter, one of the few survivors of Raccoon City, is begging for his life? What has she done to this man? Or, above all, what have you done to him?
"Tell me what Umbrella wants with Y/N."
Leon's eyes trail off behind her, seemingly searching for something with frantic movements. Her words had merely gone through one ear and out the other. His silence is only met with frustration.
"I've kept you away from them for this long." Her finger moves to hover over the trigger. "I can easily turn those six years into forever."
"Where did Y/N go?" Leon cuts her off.
Ada nearly snaps her neck with how fast she turns around. Dark eyes scanning the loading docks, her stomach sinks into a sea of dread when she cannot find you. Leon scrambles to his feet and searches alongside his nemesis. Shouts of your name echo into the gloomy skies; their hammering hearts could rival a war drum.
From here, yet another search for you begins. And between them, there is now an unspoken agreement, a newfound alliance. Although their plans rarely come to fruition, they have both found a conclusion together. The two are now wholly focused on the scheme they will achieve or die striving for.
Find you, ensure your safety, and keep you forever in their arms.
A warm, wet rag pressed against your forehead is what you awaken to next. The sudden shift into consciousness causes you to jerk back. Your eyes burst wide, scrutinizing as much of your environment as you can.
You're finally out of that dark forest. Now, you've been rested upon a dilapidated couch. Damp clothes are still stuck to your body, but a thick comforter has been draped upon you. The golden lamplight highlights Tyrell, who sits on the coffee table beside you. With a bowl of water and a rag in his hand, he looks at you with a concerned gleam in his gaze.
You are brought to a mild sense of ease once you comprehend your surroundings. You do not have it within you to trust anyone, but for some reason, this man has brought tranquility you cannot explain. Safety has become a rarity. And you gobble every breadcrumb of it you are able to garner.
"Welcome back." He jokes. His tone is still quiet, as it has been. Careful.
Your throat aches, but you still speak.
"Where am I?" You nearly cringe at how scratchy, how pathetic your voice is.
"My house." This does not calm you. Tyrell notices.
"Hey, no one can get you in here. You are safe, I swear it." His assurances help ease you. He, once again, takes notice of this before continuing.
"I'm sure you have a 'lotta questions for me, huh? I got some for you, too."
"Umbrella. What do they want from me?"
"That's a good question because I don't know either. It's what we're trying to figure out." You furrow your brow, to which he answers to your confusion. "I work with a team called the Torrents. We've been tasked with locating Umbrella and finding any survivors. You were top of our list, 'Baby-Eagle'. Now that you're safe and sound, my teammates can finally get some sleep."
Your smile grows at that nickname. God, when was the last time someone elicited a genuine smile from you?
"We think they may have been testing on some of the patients they have. Do you happen to know anything about that?"
Then, the dread settles with the realization. Jill and Carlos were right this whole time. When you would travel to the ends of the Earth to defend that corporation, it was all for a lie in the end. When Jill and Carlos saved you from them, you paid them back with cruelty and distrust. You left them both in the dust when all they wished to do was save you. Should you have ever left them?
"What about Carlos Oliveira? Jill Valentine? We know they had, um... taken you. If you're willing to talk about them, I'm all ears. 'Got all night, anyways."
There Tyrell goes again. The voice of reason in a bubble of incoherent regret.
"All I-um... All I remember is being at the sanct- er, Umbrella. I drank some tea and then I woke up in Jill and Carlos' house. The next several months, they-uh, they convinced me we were in a... relationship, of some sort. Matt- or Umbrella, found us in the end. They all hurt each other. Real bad. Then, I ended up here." Your words are quiet and broken, but Tyrell manages to pick up every cracked piece of your voice.
"Okay. I see..." He nods. "Do you think Jill and Carlos could have possibly been working for Umbrella?"
This question leaves you taken aback, evident in your dramatic reaction and scrunched face.
"God, no! They despised Umbrella. And I... I defended Umbrella. I thought they helped me, I thought they were the good guys. Every time Jill and Carlos talked shit about them, I would get so-" You interrupt yourself with a coughing fit.
Reaching to his side, Tyrell holds a plastic bottle of water in his large hands. The prospect of drugs floating through the liquid fills you with apprehension. However, with your throat on fire, you eagerly take the bottle and nearly down the entire beverage. Tyrell is one of the good ones, he wouldn't do that to you. You're sure of it.
"It's alright. You don't have to answer any more of my stupid questions, don't worry. All you 'gotta do is rest."
If you were more conscious and without the weight of fresh trauma, you'd make a joke of how he should be a voice actor with such a soothing voice like his. Tyrell's hand finds your shoulder and softly guides you back down to the couch. You ignore the unfamiliar, teenage-love-like bolt of electricity that flows from his touch and you follow his lead. When your head hits the rough fabric of the pillow, you let your heavy eyes fall.
When a door down the hallway bursts open, you cannot tell if you had been asleep for hours or if you had slept at all. Without Tyrell's presence, that all-too-familiar sense of terror returns. When you are barely able to discern his muffled voice through the walls, that terror is slightly diluted with ease. The context is what lies outside this room still has you riddled with fear.
Then, like every cheesy romance film you've ever seen, Leon Kennedy stands on the threshold of the living room entrance.
You are barely allowed a mere second to process his presence before he is barreling for you. His arms, thick and warm, ensnare around your waist. He exhales your name with a breathless tremor, burying his head further into the crevice of your neck. And you melt into him. After everything you've been through, a hug is something you are in dire need of. Leon croons in response, latching onto you tighter. Nestling himself closer against you like a touch-starved, needy puppy-dog.
"Oh, sunlight... I was so worried...!" Although this man has suffered drastic changes in the six years you've been without him, he never seems to have let go of that saccharine tone. Unbeknownst to you, you are the only one capable of summoning that side of Leon.
Although you feel safe in the comfort of Tyrell's home, there is still that stagnant terror fizzing in your stomach. A myriad of questions overwhelm your brain. What has happened? How much time has passed? Where is Ada?
You weaken your hold on him. He does not like that. "Leon. Please, I need to know-"
"Shh..." He interrupts, his hands trailing up your form until they grasp hold of your face. His grip on you, tighter than ever, shifts so he can gaze into your eyes.
"Just let me look at you..."
And that he does. Seconds, then minutes pass. All Leon does is stare directly into you. As though every inch of your irises were being studied to memory by him. As though he was pulling the depths of your soul to the surface of your eye, all for him to gawk and goggle at. It should make you blush and avert your gaze, as the characters normally do in those romance movies. However, you can't bring yourself to. You feel uncomfortable and scrutinized. As though you are restrained to a metal table for strangers and doctors to poke and prod at.
The doorbell then rings and the echo roams through the halls. You are broken from this entrance with Leon, but he is not. God, how could he?
With you here, all the cruelty he has been faced with is now wrapped together in a pretty bow. It was all a present, he now realizes. Everything that has happened led him to the personification of utmost, perpetual happiness. So, you must forgive him if he finds himself staring for too long (not that he even realizes, for that matter). It is impossible to fathom the flood of euphoria rushing through him, hence the dumbfounded, love-struck expression stamped on his face.
"Y/N..." He exhales, honey dripping from his voice.
Although he does not wish to close his eyes, Leon cannot imagine a better time to kiss you. Where the music swells, the candles glimmer, the moon gleams. It is what he has been dreaming about for six years, after all.
Just as Leon leans in, his intentions are cut short. Someone else, once again, interrupts.
Tyrell avoids the death glare from Leon and focuses on you, oblivious to how this action is the root of Leon's fury.
"Hope I'm not interrupting anything. Someone was just here for you, Y/N."
Carlos and Jill are the first people who enter your mind, here to take you back to the affection-ridden toxicity of their humble abode. When Tyrell holds his hands out and displays what this stranger left, however, you're taken aback.
"She claimed to be your wife...?"
Tyrell informs you with uncertainty in his voice.
"And she left this."
What he then gives to you is a plushie, one you remember all too well. It is an opossum, the very same opossum you cuddled with every night during your time at the sanctuary. You've missed him very much whilst you were stuck with Jill and Carlos. Despite your expressed wishes, they never made the effort to retrieve your darling opossum. Why cuddle some measly fabric and cotton when you can cuddle them instead?
You let out a sigh of relief. Thank God it is not those two at the door.
The only striking difference in your fuzzy friend is the blood-red ribbon tied around the opossum's neck. Wedged between the silk and faux fur is a folded piece of paper. Both Tyrell and Leon watch as you open the letter, digesting the contents written on the surface.
In red ink, "Wait for me, petal..." is written with flawless, cursive handwriting. Beneath, a dandelion is drawn. The pappus drifts through the wind and scatters across the paper.
Ada?
Why is she here? Where has she been?
Or, more importantly, how the hell did she find your opossum?
A rough, sharp gasp sprouts from Jill's throat when she awakens.
A flickering light sways above her, the sight blurred in her tired gaze. Her body aches from the awkward position she was unconscious in. Lifting her weakened body up, Jill discerns several bodies, painted in blood and grime, that had been splayed in a frivolous mess. There are miscellaneous documents scattered amongst this violent disarray. Shifting her distorted gaze, she finds two metal doors that had been sprung open. How the hell did she get inside of a truck? What caused it to crash in the first place?
Using the dented walls for support, she stumbles forward. Black dots dance in Jill's vision for a moment, before returning to a hazy blur as she staggers out of the vehicle. With an abrupt grunt, she collapses into the mud. Her hands, stained with dirt, hold her ribs in an attempt to ease the stagnant pain.
For this simple moment, Jill is alone in the world. When the most important thing in her life finally flashes through her mind, the pumping of her heart accelerates.
Y/N... Where did you go?
Memories of her last encounter with you return, as well. It harbors terror like no other. She speaks your name and it sprouts from her throat in a desperate call.
Jill's breath quickens when she discerns a voice. The indubitable sound of someone crying for help echoes through the forest. She turns to the source with hope and worry shimmering in her eyes. Oh, it's her baby, her butterfly! You need her help!
"Y/N...! I'm coming..." Her voice is weak, but her attempts are the entire opposite.
Jill limps through the forest, clambering over wreckage with frantic effort. Averting her blurred gaze to the sound of cries, her face drops when she finds something entirely different.
That doctor you are evidently so infatuated with is stuck beneath a pile of rubble. His face appears as though it had been sunken in. Drowned in a mess of gore.
And sitting on top of the doctor is no other than Carlos Oliveira, whose fists are painted in that same gore.
His clenched fists plunge into Matt's face over and over and over again. His teeth are barred and bloodied like some sort of animal. His voice is several octaves lower than ever before, all guttural growls and grunts like some sort of rabid creature. It is something Jill has never seen before. Not in Raccoon City, not when they took you from the sanctuary, not even when she took you out for a ride on her motorcycle. He is now a monster in its absolute form.
However, Carlos is not something she is concerned with at the moment. She hurls herself over to the two and shoves Carlos off of Matt. He falls to the ground with a loud thump and a harsh curse. Jill ignores his dramatic reaction, before climbing atop of Matt and ensnaring her hands around his red-stained neck. Jill then proceeds to interrogate him of your whereabouts.
"What did you do to them? Where the fuck did you take them!?" Jill does not recognize herself, either. Her voice has morphed into a low, violent tone, an inflection she never knew she was capable of producing.
Matt does not respond to her pressuring questions. He chokes and gurgles on chunks of blood, teeth, and spit. His eyes, now puffy and swollen from the relentless blows they have endured, gape at her in confused terror. However, not that Matt could even be given the chance to respond. Jill glances at the sudden movement in her peripheral and is met with Carlos' fist striking her cheek. The force of the punch sends her to the dirt.
"This is all your fucking fault, Jill!" Her ears almost ring from the sheer volume of his shout.
Once again, it is a side of Carlos she has never seen before. She can take a punch, that's for damn sure. God knows she's handled worse. But fuck, is he out for blood right now.
"If you had never taken Y/N outside, they never would've wanted to leave in the fucking first place!" The tremble in the back of Carlos' throat jeopardizes his intimidation factor. Of course, he is crying, Jill sighs to herself.
Her lanky fingers press into the damp ground to stabilize herself. Before she can bring herself back to her feet, however, something catches her eye. A single document among the millions. She takes the closest one into her grasp and reads through the classified contents. With that damned Umbrella logo in the corner, Jill is fully aware of what evil, corrupt plans await her in the following passage.
As Carlos sobs like a child behind her, whimpers of "my baby" and "come back to me" filling the silent air, she scours through the information printed on the page. Three names are stamped in bold: Jill Valentine, Carlos Oliveira, and Y/N L/N. More survivors collected from Raccoon City, they claim. There are reports of your physicality and state of being, accompanied by their predictions on how you'll react to their new testing. "Las Plagas" is what they refer to it as.
At the very bottom of the document, most imperatively, is a series of coordinates to their new location.
With this newfound, fruitful information, Jill trudges over to Carlos for additional aid. When she finds him practically tucked into a ball, sobbing his lungs out, she cannot restrain herself from rolling her eyes.
"Get up. Get up, pussy, come on-!" When she tugs on his arm, he pushes her harshly away from him.
"You don't understand!” Brown eyes, overwhelmed with tears, glare at her in accusation. “I can't live without them..."
Jill is swift to counter back. "Neither can-fucking-I! And we will never see 'em again unless you man-up and fuckin’ listen to me!"
This grabs his attention.
"So, are you just gonna sit there and fuckin' whine about it or are you gonna help me?"
With a sniffle, Carlos nods in agreement.
"Good. Now get your shit together and find me a goddamn map."
Jill does not waste another second before springing into action. She begins with a thorough scrutinization of the scene of the crash, searching for any specific landmarks that will inform them of their current whereabouts. When all she finds is a street sign made of decaying wood that reads "Los Iluminados," she knows her luck is wearing thin.
When Carlos announces with a cracked voice his discovery, Jill limps with urgency to him. Nestled beneath the passenger seat is a map, crumbled and stained with filth. Jill yanks the paper from his hands and searches for the street they are currently stuck on, while also discerning the coordinates Umbrella had disclosed in their document.
Meanwhile, Carlos chokes out demands left and right. Asking her what all of this is for, and how this will help him in his efforts to reunite with his sweet bumblebee. Despite his irritating questions, she does not respond to him. She is too engrossed in her own head, manipulating her detective skills.
"There." Jill finally breaks her fit of silence.
Presenting the map to Carlos, she points to where the coordinates line up.
"That's where Y/N is."
A beat passes as Carlos, too, inspects the contents before him. Then, he snatches the map from Jill's hands. He storms off in the direction she advised with a desperate vengeance in his disposition.
When Jill takes a step to follow him, something clutches around her ankles. With a sharp gasp, she looks down to identify the sudden matter. When the hopeful fraction of her mind told her it could be you, she was met with disappointment when she finds Matt. Whining and pleading for her help, blood still oozing from his butchered head and seeping into the mud below.
Jill stares at the man with absolutely nothing in her eyes. She, instead, snatches a loose, sharp twig from the mess of detritus scattered around. Before Matt can obtrude another helpless plead, she drives the stuck directly into his eye. Blood squirts from the fresh wound like a fizzy soda. One last gurgle for air and his body finally goes limp.
She spits on his corpse. Then, Jill turns back to follow Carlos on his trail.
Wherever you may be, she will find you. Even if it kills her.
⁺ 🎧 , 🪷 you are currently listening to . . . ⁺ 🪺 , 🎵 ꪆ
THE BONUS TRACK !
❝ I TRY TO FALL FOR HER TOUCH,
BUT I'M THINKING OF THE WAY IT WAS . . . ❞
long wait but we back again babyyyyy
gif creds :: leon.
#moonfairy#resident evil#leon kennedy#ada wong#jill valentine#carlos oliveira#resident evil x reader#leon kennedy x reader#ada wong x reader#jill valentine x reader#carlos oliveria x reader#resident evil imagine#leon kennedy imagine#leon kennedy smut#ada wong imagine#jill valentine imagine#carlos oliveira imagine#yandere resident evil#yandere leon kennedy#yandere ada wong#yandere jill valentine#yandere carlos oliveira#yandere#gn reader#gender neutral reader#Spotify
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Being mostly unloved your whole life with out much attention from people around you 🤝 loving obsessive yandere characters
#🤭#yandere hotd#yandere house of the dragon#yandere got#yandere game of thrones#yandere marvel#yandere avengers#yandere xmen#yandere resident evil#yandere Leon kennedy#dark fics#yandere#dark#Yandere avatar#yandere spiderman#joe goldberg x reader#love quinn#love quinn x reader
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Dark! Yandere! Leon Kennedy Headcanons
Warnings: 18+ (just to be safe), Possessive Behaviour, Obsessive Behaviour, Mention of Plotting, Mentions of Smut, Non-Explicit Depictions of Smut, Mention of Dirty Talk, Mention of Overstimulation, Mention of Choking, Mention of Power Imbalance, Mention of Manhandling, Mention of Aftercare, Dominant! Leon, Rough Leon, Feral Leon, Paranoid Leon, Leon just wants Validation <3, No Pronouns used for Reader except ‘You'.
SFW
Possessive doesn’t even begin to describe how Leon acts around you.
Territorial may be how you describe him to your friends – a compliment, really.
But the fact that he never lets you out of his sight and worries about you whenever you’re not in his immediate vicinity is…telling, to say the least.
Calls you every 30 minutes on the rare occasion that you’re not together.
“Are you okay ?”, “Are you hurt ?”, “Do you need me to come over ?”
Paranoid aaah Leon.
But he means well – you know that much.
Once, you joked that the two of you “Might as well move in together if we’re going to talk this much !”
And that started putting ideas in Leon’s head.
He does have the notion of staging a break-in at your current home address so that you’ll feel unsafe and be more likely to move in with him.
But he doesn’t want you being traumatised like he is. Not by his hand.
But can you blame his rather questionable behaviour ?
After everything he went through in RE2 and RE4, you’d have been surprised if he didn’t turn out the way he had.
Despite all that, he’s a good boyfriend :>
Does anything and everything you ask him to, without question.
Scarily loyal.
And he expects you to be the same.
That being said, he doesn’t get jealous, as such.
Rather, he believes that the guy who’s been glancing at you every minute or so is planning on attacking you.
Not on Leon’s watch.
Scary dog privilege. Though your ‘scary dog’ is rather pretty; he just has an intimidating glare and figure.
Due to this paranoia and constant anxiety about your health and wellbeing, Yandere! Leon prefers an S/O who’s reclusive, one that doesn’t venture beyond their home very often.
It makes it easier for him to survey you, makes him feel more at ease knowing that you’re tucked away someplace safe.
Well, not entirely safe. Leon firmly believes that you can never be entirely avoidant of disaster unless you’re with him 24/7.
Not sure if you’ve noticed, but Leon has a *sliiight* saviour complex.
He wants to feel strong and dependable – to counteract all that the events of RE2 forced him to feel.
While this manifests in his wild daydreams about saving you from some undead horror straight out of a zombie movie (or real life, in Leon’s case), this manifests in more subtle situations in your day-to-day life.
He’ll open a jar for you, or reach something off the top shelf (regardless of whether you can reach it or not).
Don’t ask how he knew you were going to have trouble opening that particular jar, or that you wouldn’t reach your favourite mug that was placed a few shelves higher than it was yesterday.
It makes his chest swell with pride and strokes his ego.
But, as much as Leon likes it when you’re dependent on him, he does want you to have a fighting chance if the unthinkable should happen – that he’s not around to save you.
He tries teaching you self-defence, which, while you appreciate the thought, you tell him is unnecessary.
Yes, you know (vaguely) about what happened during Leon’s missions (though he is typically quite scant on the specifics, not wanting to worry you or drive you from him, as selfish as he believes that desire is).
But when you tell him that “I don’t need to know self-defence,” and Leon, cautious, asks ‘why ?’ you hit him with an answer far better than anything he’s fantasised about. And trust when I say that Leon has fantasised about you. A lot.
“Because I have you to protect me !”
As well-intentioned and innocent as your statement is, something within Leon breaks. Snaps.
NSFW
He has you under him quicker than you can blink.
His territorial, possessive nature filters through into the way he claims you – marks you.
He doesn’t bite you, though.
Years of trauma with the snapping jaws of zombies has put him off the idea.
But he sucks bruises into your skin, goes harder than intended when he turns feral, gripping your thighs, your arms, your sides – anything accessible to him.
And though he tries his best never to hurt you, he does end up losing himself whenever he gets like this.
Not that you mind.
His lips dip beside your head, and you can hear him say “You’re mine. All mine,” as he holds your body hostage.
He has a lot of endurance and an abundance of excess energy (usually emotional), so he ends up overstimulating you a good deal of the time.
Just pounding into you long after you’ve finished, his face buried into your neck, breathing becoming uneven as he works another euphoric release out of the both of you.
Say his name and he’ll go wild.
“Say it again,” he pants, his chest to yours as he takes you. “Tell me I’m the only one who can protect you – the only one who– aah! –you love–”
I understand why people say Leon’s a switch with bottom lean, but consider that time in RE4 when he said that “Following a lady’s lead just isn’t my style,”
You can’t say that there isn’t at least a remnant of top energy in there.
Hence, Leon – at the very least Yandere! Leon – can be quite…dominant.
As evidenced above.
Also evidenced by the fact that he gets off on the fact you’re weaker or smaller than him.
Doesn’t matter how tall you are, how much muscle you have; Leon is stronger both mentally and physically.
Though, this is somewhat of a guilty pleasure. But he has no problem letting you know what he’s thinking.
“God, you’re so weak,” he says, voice straining with his release hanging over him.
“Say it – say you need me; that I’m the only one who can take care of you, who can make you cry like this,”
Maybe he grabs you by the throat. Maybe he chokes you a little when you’re taking too long to answer.
But, regardless of how rough he can get, Leon is a certified King of Aftercare™.
Feels absolutely abysmal if he thinks he’s hurt you, or pushed you too far.
And your part of the aftercare is purely emotional. You have to convince him that you’re fine, you’re happy. And maybe enjoyed being manhandled a little…
Masterlist
Masterpost
Yandere Masterlist
Juicy Original Content <3
#resident evil#resident evil x you#resident evil x reader#leon kennedy#leon s kennedy#leon kennedy x y/n#leon kennedy x you#leon kennedy x reader#leon s kennedy x reader#resident evil smut#leon kennedy smut#yandere leon kennedy#yandere resident evil#yandere leon#yandere leon x reader#yandere leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy headcanons#resident evil headcanons#resident evil 4
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the sweetest goodbye.
mdni, eighteen plus only.
there's content in this fic which may be upsetting to some so content warnings are as followed; darkfic, stalking, obsession, non-con, voyeurism, dead dove; do not eat, drugging, cumplay, unconcious reader, non-con photos, creepiness, ooc leon kennedy
slick cum drips over the edge of his plush, yet somehow course knuckles, years of heavy work evident upon them. he watches you through the high apexed window and fucks into his aforementioned hand. the carnal grunt that leaves his lips as he watches your own pointer slip between the soft lips of your soaked and probably sweet pussy is near feral and he scoffs, the tear in his eyes one of pure disgust and shame for himself; but he’s fucked if he even imagines for one second he could stop.
and for a second time, a whimper escapes his lips and he presses his ear against the wooden front door, if he turns his head to the left, ear flushed against it, he can vaguely hear your own whimpers reverberating through the oak, but barely, it’s not enough and he edges himself post orgasm. the mutual masturbation between the thick walls and double glazed windows is too much and simultaneously not enough for him.
his cock throbs in his hand, almost like if he doesn’t fuck you, he’ll burn up indefinitely. it was sorely pathetic to come back night after night, hopping on various transports to spend a few hours of pleasure with you. but, you were so predictable, he had your schedule drilled into his head by now.
the eight am work calls, midday shopping, friends and then home to fuck your own cunt day after day. it was kind of cute and the predictability had led to him roaming your rooms when you weren’t around, the thrill of perhaps being caught as he cum’s into a pair of your used panties or when he ground his dick down into the very pillow he’d watched you orgasm on many, many nights.
the hair on the back of leons neck stands on edge as he looks down at his weeping cock once again this evening… “talk about predictable,” he mumbles to himself before fear of missing the show overcomes him and he whips his head back up in time to watch your eyes roll back into your head, a choked chuckle coming from his lips, mentally berating himself for forgetting to film you once again.
he’s been watching you for months now, a shameful amount of time had passed since you locked eyes at the grocery store you worked at, some organic non chain, where a brown apron cinched itself around your waist, ass perked up below it in some god willed sweatpants that seemed to hug you in all the desirable places.
leon hadn’t meant to follow you home of course but the smell of your fresh flowery perfume had him wafting through the air like a cartoon character to a pie. he’d climbed the fire escape for the first time that night and was delightfully greeted with a similar sight to the private show he was receiving this evening.
he hadn’t meant to watch.. to perv, for want of a better word. but fuck, the cherry pie between your legs was truly hypnotising, like a snake being charmed by music or a mere man being bought in by some supernatural factor. the delicate parts of you were all he had wanted and more. he remembered the way you laughed and brushed his hand whilst helping him to pack the brown paper bags and it was another reminder of how rough his hands really were, whilst yours skimmed past like butter.
how he’d embarrassed himself when he read your name tag aloud and watched you stare at him puzzled for it before realisation passed through your silky eyes. and then, he’d come back the second night after painting your window with his cum, and you’d failed to notice that even now, the stain is still there. blushing, heating up his cheeks slightly, getting flashes of how insane this really was. how crazy it had been to follow you home and continue night after night to drip cum on your fire escape patio.
he pulls the used panties out of his back pocket again and held them up to his nose, eyes closed as he inhales, hips jutting out pre-emptively in excitement, but he pulls his pants back up as he watches you settle into bed, sleep shorts discarded for a lace thong and some oversized t shirt he hasn’t seen yet.
and now. he waits. one thing he knows for sure is how much of a heavy sleeper you were and the brush of the tips of your favourite cups with some medicine was enough to kick start yawns and desperation for rest. leon’s thoughts are calculated, this has all been planned and tonight, he plans to fuck you for the first time. he smiles, our first time. and he thinks it a shame you won’t be able to remember it but he’ll make it up to you.
climbing through the latched window; (he really has to teach you to be more careful) excitement laces his bones. his hands shake as he peels the cover away from your bare shoulders, dropping to his knees and burying his nose in your neck, he’s waited so long to touch you, actually feel you properly. his hand finds the hem of your shirt, pressing a hand on your belly beneath it, heart beating feverishly and he flicks his eyes up to your face once more before fully planting it, feeling his cock weep at being this near to you.
his free hand moves down to palm himself gently and he continues to nuzzle into your nape and take in all your undernotes. the hand resting on your belly slithers down towards the top of your lace panties, a shy finger making its way under the band, resting atop the groomed hair which lays there, his eyes roll back at the softness there, how were you so soft everywhere?
he pulls your panties down more, finger finding your still wet clit, after remnants of your playtime. he fully removes your underwear now, balling them up by your ankles and leaving them there, trying desperately not to cum right in his pants there and then.
leon knows his time is running out but he’s trying his hardest to savour every moment possible. and against his own shallow will he’s pulling his pants and boxers down, turning you over and shoving his cock into your tight cunt, biting his lip so hard it bleeds, legs faltering slightly at how tight and delectable you truly felt, choking on a moan once more. fuck this, he thinks to himself and ruts his hips back and forth, the way your cunt holds him has him seeing stars.
“ah fuck, shit, take that, take it baby, you’re so fucking sexy” he moans into your neck, losing any restraint or semblance of restraint he ever had, completely lost in the ecstasy of fucking his girl. even if you had no idea you were his girl. he had to admit he was reaching his edge much quicker than he would have liked to but, he had years of you to come and he pulls out before he reaches his high, splattering his thick cum over your back and shoulders, pornographic moan leaving his chapped lips.
he pulls away, pulling his pants up quickly and admiring his damage properly this time, before shifting his phone out his pocket, leaning down to kiss your covered cheek. “smile honey,” he teases your unconscious body, smirking and snapping a photo before he slinks back out of your room, softly closing the door and starting his commute back home. “see you tomorrow.” he says to the wind.
#leon kennedy x reader#dark leon kennedy#leon s kennedy#leon re4#leon kennedy#dark fic leon kennedy#leon kennedy imagine#leon kennedy resident evil#leon kennedy smut drabble#leon kennedy smut#yandere leon kennedy x reader#leon s kennedy smut#leon s kennedy x reader#re smut#resident evil smut
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American Psycho Killer
Summary: Leon S. Kennedy, a man who’s taken his duty of protection very seriously. He’ll do anything to ensure the safety of people, especially the safety of one particular girl.
Warning: stalking, murdering, mentions of planned murder, mentions of drugs and drug abuse, gore (kinda), death, masturbation (m receiving), smut, creampie, yan!leon, not proofread lol, fem reader, psychopathic.
A/N: I did my research for this as I wanted this to sound a little spooky teehee :3
[part two]
“I got you under my skin” - Mirotic, TVXQ!
Psychopath vs. Sociopath. The popular argument in between psychologists.
Leon never really cared enough to get himself checked out but there were signs. He didn’t feel empathy for others, his moves were calculated and he’s highly educated. He has a well paying career, he pretends to be this normal guy when in reality, he’s psychopathic.
What defines a psychopath apart from a sociopath? Psychopaths, at least in Leon’s case, cannot form established bonds with others. He doesn’t feel guilt or sad when he sees a person die by his hands.
His job already requires him to kill so this was an easy feat. He doesn’t care. He can’t feel anything.
He couldn’t feel anything until you came along.
Leon lived in this apartment complex just downtown of a city in the state. The apartment was big and had security cameras all around. It was well guarded and the people were kind.
When he saw the new neighbor move in, he felt weird. He narrowed his eyes as he watched you from the window of his apartment loft. He was growing suspicious at his behavior. Why did his chest feel warm? Why is his heart beating fast? Why are his hands sweating?
He didn’t know. Up to this point he didn’t feel anything but you brought something to him and it made him uneasy. So he decided to keep an eye on you.
Days passed after you moved in and you settled just fine. The old lady at the end of the hall brought you cookies, a sweet old lady. She talked to Leon a few times and he didn’t think much of her other than just as his neighbor. Nothing more.
But if you were to ask him what he thought of you? Oh boy, he thought a lot of things. Both good and bad.
Being a psychopath isn’t praised in society. Only 1% of the population is considered one and no one knew he belonged to that percentage. And he’d like to keep it that way; his excuse for his behavior was his job. He always left early in the morning and came back late at night. A manipulator and a liar is what he was, and a very good one.
He’s seen you leave your apartment from time to time. You’d take out the trash, went out with your friends- he’s seen everything you do.
Leon isn’t stupid, he’s attentive and observant. He leaves no trace behind of the murder he just committed. The male neighbor across from your door saw you one day when you walked out of your door with a short dress.
The man eye-fucked you so much he literally almost started drooling. Leon cringed and found him repulsive. How dare he look at you like you were some meat on the market?
He felt anger and disgust. No one should look at you like that. No one.
So, one summer day, he made up an excuse to visit him. Something about a water pipe connecting to his sink that didn’t make it work. Like I said, Leon is a good manipulator and a good liar. He always gets what he wants.
The male neighbor invited him in and closed the door behind him. He offered Leon a beer, to which he refused. He found liquor and other substances repulsive. He walked over to the man’s kitchen sink and began to inspect it.
He noticed the man’s sink had a garbage disposal unit. That’s pretty dangerous, he thought to himself.
He walked over to where the man was sitting. The male neighbor was sitting on his reclining couch as he watched a game with a cup of beer on the stand next to him. The neighbor was so engrossed on the football game that he didn’t notice Leon slipping something into his drink.
Leon was smart. Dangerously smart. He knew everything when it came to death- he worked in the DSO, of course he knew some things. He knew the effects of alprazolam and what it does to the brain.
So when he lied to a psychiatrist about his insomnia and got prescribed some Xanax, he crushed a high dosage into fine powder and slipped it into the man’s beer.
Stupid bastard, Leon thought to himself.
He watched as the male neighbor took a sip of his drink and Leon waited. Xanax is a powerful drug, can cause hallucinations and make your brain become a little too calm. You’re bound to fall asleep at some point. And with the amount Leon dropped into his drink, he knew he’d knock out sooner than later.
After a few minutes of “tinkering” with the man’s sink. He got up and went to check on the man again.
And sure as hell did the man find himself in a profound slumber. His snores layering with the sound of the TV.
Too easy, Leon smirked to himself. He put on some elastic gloves and made sure he wore shoes that wouldn’t leave footprints. In case things would get messy, of course.
He poured the man’s drink down the sink to get rid of the evidence. He then thought hard about how he should go about this.
There’s many different ways one can commit murder but Leon wanted the cleanest one. So he came up with one.
He brought pans to the stove and made it seem like the man was cooking something for himself. He partially cooked a stupid egg and left it there. Leon went back to where the man was sitting and dragged him out of his couch and towards the kitchen. Since this man’s place was small, the kitchen and dining area were joined together. He sat there man down on the dining table, which happened to be near the stove. He took out the man’s phone and put it in the man’s hand to make it seem like he was using it.
Leon went back to the kitchen and continued to prepare the scene. He took out bottles of alcohol the man had and poured them down the drain to make it look like he’d had a few drinks. He took a single cup from the cup rack and filled it up halfway. With the cup and bottle of whiskey in both hands, he walked back to the table where the man was sitting and laid them on the table. He took the half empty cup and smeared the man’s lip on the rim. You must cover every single detail.
He even poured a little alcohol into the man’s already parted lips. Leon walked back to the stoved and kept the gas on. Now all he needed to do was wait and let nature do its thing.
Leon walked out of his apartment, pretending to still be talking to the man since there was a camera on the corner of the hall. As the door opened, the camera couldn’t record that Leon had been talking to himself. It made the act believable.
With a smile, Leon walked back to his place and stayed there.
A few hours passed and it started to get dark outside, each resident was inside their unit and ready to go to sleep when the fire alarm began to sound. Everyone was forced to evacuate the premises as the firefighters came to the scene.
You saw as the ambulance brought out a stretcher into the building. Someone was still inside, you thought to yourself as your eyes widened and your heart rate increased. You tried to move but felt someone’s hand on your arm, it was Leon.
“Don’t. It’s too dangerous,” he replied in a serious tone as he stared at you with those cold blue eyes. You pinched your brows together. He was right. If you were to try and save the person, you’d die in the process. You nodded defeatedly and he let go of your arm. He stood there watching you- analyzing you.
You had a good heart, he thought. Too good for his liking. That made you an easy target for people and he loathed the idea of people exploiting your kindness. He vowed to protect you, to mark his hands dirty for you.
As the EMT brought back the stretcher, you could see a person lying there lifeless. All the other residents immediately started to mutter amongst themselves, some started to cry and others gasped in shock. You simply stood there, wide eyed and jaw slack. Leon’s expression remained unchanged as he watched you react to the man’s death. The man deserved it, he thought to himself.
Couldn’t you see that he was protecting you? You’ll come around eventually, he thought.
As the ambulance left the area, the firefighters started to clear the smoke as the police arrived. The police began to do their investigation as the firefighters checked the unit and deemed it good after clearing out the fire and the smoke. One police officer began to make her way to the apartment as the other stayed behind with the residents to ask questions.
Leon was a smooth talker. A trait most psychopaths had. He could get himself out of any situation and he could lie. So when the police asked him what had happened, Leon simply replied with, “I’m not sure. I went to his apartment to check his water supply as my sink stopped working and he lived next to me. I noticed he was making himself some food but I was too busy checking our pipes. He reeked of alcohol and barely spoke to me,” Leon’s tone was different. He sounded likey he spoke the truth.
You couldn’t help but listen to his words. To you, they are true. You saw him walk out of the man’s apartment.
The investigation was deemed as self-manslaughter. The police believed that the man suffered from deliberate alcohol poisoning which caused him to pass out in the process of cooking himself some food.
This made news headlines. Everyone believed the story but they thought the man was stupid enough to cook while he was drunk. Many of the residents believed it, he was a known alcoholic. Leon was never caught.
He was watching you from the window, months after the incident occurred. You had just come back from your college lecture. Leon knew. He stalked you, he followed you.
He knew your weekly routine. Monday through Thursday you had lectures. On Friday, you did work study. And the weekends were reserved for your personal time. He felt proud of you for balancing your life. You lived healthily and he couldn’t help but feel proud at your decisions. He knew you were smart enough to take care of yourself.
He knew the campus you went to, he knew the classes you were taking, he knew your major- he knew everything. But he pretended like he didn’t.
So when he saw you in the parking lot, right next to his car and you had trouble with your groceries, he couldn’t help but feel like your knight in shining armor. With his hardened expression, he asked you in his stern and serious voice, “Need some help?”
You smiled sheepishly and nodded, “Yeah… you don’t mind helping me?” You scratched your head awkwardly. On the inside, he found it adorable. But on the outside, he maintained his cool. He nodded and walked over to your car to retrieve the bags of groceries you bought. He was so strong he carried all the bags to your apartment door. You thanked him graciously and invited him inside.
“You can put them on the table, I’ll assort them,” you said as you took of your jacket and hanged it on the rack right next to the door. He nodded and walked over to the dining table, where he put all the bags with food. He took this opportunity to look around your place.
You kept it simple. It was nice, colorful, but nice. You had tons of books on your shelves, he took a mental note that you probably liked to stay indoors. He noticed the way your laptop and a few papers were scattered on the couch and coffee table, you were studious and dedicated to your education. He silently applauded you in his head. He liked that about you. You had goals and ambitions.
“Thank you, again. I owe you one,” you walked up to him and gave him a warm, genuine smile. He looked down at you and nodded again. Pretty smile, he thought to himself.
“It’s no problem, let me know if you need help with anything. I’m a couple doors away,” he replied with his usual serious tone. He remained unchanged, at least to you. To him, he felt like he about to combust into pieces. You were perfect, absolutely perfect.
Days went by and you found yourself talking to Leon more often. Or at least on the days you could. Leon was gone most of the day, he told you about his hectic work schedule and you couldn’t help but feel bad about him. So you decided to make him a small dinner with a note.
You left it on the front door of his apartment and walked back to yours. When Leon came back from work, it was 2:27 a.m. As he climbed up the steps of the stairs, he noticed something on his front door and felt slightly confused. He hasn’t ordered anything. He grew cautious and slowly approached his door. But then he saw your name on a sticky note. He quickly picked up the lunch box and walked inside his apartment.
Walking to his dining table, he read the note you left. Even your handwriting was perfect. The little swirls of the letters, almost writing in cursive made him want to keep you all to himself. He brought the piece of paper to his nose and sniffed it roughly, the paper crumbling in his hands as he could smell your scent on it. He groaned in pleasure as he could imagine your soft and small hands picking up a pen and write something just for him.
Just for him.
That thought alone almost set him off. He couldn’t eat dinner, not with the growing erection in his pants. He put the dinner you made in his freezer and quickly walked to his bedroom. He sat down on his bed and unbuckled his belt, throwing it somewhere on the floor. He pulled down his pants and boxers and watched as his cocked sprung freely, hitting his abdomen with a thwack.
His left hand held the piece of water with your handwriting and your scent while his right hand traveled to his cock. He brought the piece of paper to his nose again and closed his eyes in pure delight. Your scent was intoxicating- sweet vanilla with a hint of coffee. He grunted and moaned at the thought of your hands picking writing this note. He could picture your small hands wrapping his big cock, rubbing his base up and down as your scent infiltrated his airway.
His muscles tensed up as the thought of having you in between his legs made his cock throb. His stomach coiled as he felt himself nearing his orgasm. He could imagine your mouth sucking on his cock as he rammed his hips deeper down your throat, making you gag on him. He’d grab your hair and pull you closer to his pelvic area, having his blonde pubic hair rub against your face as you took his cock like a good girl.
He growled your name as he came in himself. White ropes shooting down at his palm as he tried to collect his cum and prevent it from staining any of his furniture. He sighed softly and laid his back on the mattress as he thought of you.
You drive him wild, he’d do anything for you. If it meant having you as his.
And that’s what drove him to kill more people. One day, he overheard you while both of you “coincidentally” went to get the mail from the lobby. You were speaking on the phone to a friend and he tried to make it seem like he wasn’t listening. But he was.
He heard you talk about how your ex is pestering you and giving you a hard time. That you cried last night because you two had an argument while he tried to get back together. His blood ran through his veins as you mentioned you cried.
He’d kill anyone who made this sweet and perfect angel cry. And that’s what his next murder was going to be. He went back to his apartment and began to stalk you again. As a government agent, he had privileges the common folk didn’t have. He was able to run a background check on you and found out your ex. To his surprise, he was your first and only relationship so far. He knew this guy probably broke your heart as your first relationship will always be your worst one.
He narrowed his eyes in anger as he found the man who broke your heart. And jotted down the information he had on him- his address, his workplace, his contact information, etc. Leon found everything thanks to his job.
When you heard news about your ex dying, you were shocked to see that he died from overdose. You’ve never known he was a drug addict, or at least that’s what Leon made it seem to be.
Leon drove all the way this man’s house and observed his routine. Your ex went to work, came back home, and went to the bar. An alcoholic, this made it easier for him.
Leon walked into the bar with his casual clothes, he spotted the man sitting on the bar counter with a drink already in his hand. He walked over and sat next to him as he ordered himself whiskey.
Your ex was already stupidly drunk, flirting up some poor girl who was just trying to talk to her friend. So he’s a creep too, he thought to himself as he took a sip his drink.
Why do you always find yourself around creepy and perverted men?
Leon looked around and made sure no one was watching him as slipped some stuff into his drink. Leon then continued to sip his drink and even chatted up the bartender.
The more your ex drank, the closer he got to an overdose. Turns out if you mix alcohol with prednisone, the effects could be fatal. Your ex would develop a liver damage that could potentially end his life if he kept drinking like he was right now.
It was getting late and Leon paid his tab. It was 11 PM and he decided he should go home. He wasn’t drunk, not yet at least. So he was perfectly capable of driving back to his apartment. But not your ex.
It was nearing closing time for the bar and the poor bartender saw your ex passed out on the counter. She didn’t know what to do but she tried waking him up.
Unresponsive. Her eyes widened slightly as she over to his side and checked for a pulse.
Flat line. She called the police and reported the death.
The police declared it suicide. They believed he voluntarily took drugs and alcohol at the same time.
In your mind, you were in denial but then you slowly began to think to yourself. He’s been acting weird and out of the ordinary when he’d talk about getting back together. It all made sense now. His aggressive behavior, his short temper… he was a drug addict and an alcoholic.
You attended the funeral, of course. And when you came back, Leon had been unlocking his door. He saw your puffy eyes as you had your heels in your hands. You looked like you’ve been crying- which you probably were. Leon paused as he stared at you, he nodded once at you, acknowledging your presence. He then spoke up in a tired voice, “Rough day?”
You nodded as you blinked slowly, “You could say that.”
He hummed in response and looked back down at his doorknob. Then he looked back to you, “Do you want to talk about it?”
Leon himself was tired as he just came back from a tough mission, but he would never be too tired for you. He pushed his exhaustion to the side and would rather take care of your needs for you.
You sighed and nodded slowly, “I could use a drink.”
He invited you over to his apartment and let you sit down on his couch as he took two glasses and one bottle of Jack. He walked over to the couch and set down the glasses and the bottle on the coffee table as he sat down next to you.
He began to pour for the both of you, not wanting you to work any more than you’ve already had.
“Cheers,” you muttered under your breath as you clanked your glass with his and chugged the liquid down your throat. The burning sensation almost making you forget about the mental strain you had.
He watched you as you set down the glass back down on the coffee table. Even in this state, you looked absolutely beautiful. He couldn’t wait to have you for himself. To prove to you that what you needed was a real man.
One thing let to another and you found yourself pinned under him on his bed. Your legs spread open as your knees rested on his shoulders. The head of his cock abusing your cervix, bruising it with brute force as he pulled out and pushed back in harshly. His balls smacking against your ass as his arms caged you under him. Your hands were on his shoulders, nails clawing deep into his flesh as the bed creaked from him pounding into you. The headboard hitting the wall behind the bed as he pulled out and forced his cock back into your tight walls. Your cunt clenching around his member as his hands gripped on your hair, forcing your head up so he could hear your stupid blabber.
He pulled out and rolled you over to your stomach. His left hand gripped on your waist as his right hand gripped the back of your neck and pushed your face down the sheets of his bed as he rammed his cock from behind you. Your ass jiggling as pounded harsher and harsher. Making sure you knew who you belonged to. He’d fuck you until you couldn’t walk.
You kept moaning his name against his pillow. Drool falling down your lips as tears rolled down your cheeks from the pleasure. You felt him even deeper from this position. His left hand gripped on your waist as it then traveled down to your ass and smacked, almost immediately seeing his hand print show in a pink and red hue on your skin. The burning sensation of the slap only made you more needy for his touch. His left hand found your hip and forced your body to clash against his as he fucked you straight to bliss.
Stars clouded your eyes as you whimpered and moaned. He cock throbbed and twitched inside of you as it stretched you. It hurt but it hurt good. His right hand gently squeezed the back of your throat, causing you to moan.
“Fuck- Leon- ‘mma cum-“ you spoke breathlessly in between moans and whimpers. He leaned down to whisper in your ear, “Cum for me,” he pressed a kiss on your shoulder blade as he felt you squirm under him. Your body convulsing as your orgasm took the best of you.
Your pussy clamped and clenched around him, wedging him with your juices. He didn’t stop, however. He kept pounding into you as the squelching sound echoed through his room.
He grunted and growled as he felt himself about to cum. He began to speed up and he let go of your neck. Now that both of his hands were on your hips, he gripped the fat of them and forced your body in and out of his cock. Bruising your cervix as your ass hit his hips. The sweat making your skin glisten under the shitty light of his room. You looked even more beautiful when he was fucking you like this.
His hot and sticky cum spurted out of his cock, coating your walls with a part of himself. In his sick and twisted mind, he branded you. He branded you with his essence and he didn’t regret it. He pulled out and heard you moan dumbly as he watched his cum slowly drip down the lips of your cunt to his bedsheet. He’d have to clean them but he didn’t care. He gave your ass a gentle squeeze as he patted your back for you to lay down. He knew you enjoyed it so much since you were on the brink of passing out.
You closed your eyes and felt as Leon cleaned you up. He took your hand and placed a gentle kiss on you knuckles. He was grateful to have you.
He wouldn’t mind killing again. Now that you were his in his mind, he’d go as far as killing every man who’s ever laid eyes on you.
For you, he’d become the world’s best serial killer.
#leon kennedy#leon s kennedy#leon scott kennedy#resident evil#id leon kennedy#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy x y/n#leon kennedy x you#leon s kennedy x reader#re4 leon#re2 leon#di leon#re2r leon#re4 remake#re2 remake#resident evil 4#leon kennedy headcanons#leon#yandere!leon kennedy x reader#leon smut#leon kennedy smut#r#re4r leon#smut#infinite darkness#death island leon
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Insatiable (Part 1)
Summary: You are a researcher for D.S.O. who is responsible for studying Leon Kennedy as Las Plagas overtakes him, maybe even finding a cure. He starts to take a liking to you, too much of a liking to you.
Word Count: 2k
Pairing: yandere plagas!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader (afab)
Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. Actions depicted in this story are not condoned in real life. You are responsible for your own content consumption. If any of the following warnings trigger you, please read at your own risk. Minors do not interact, this story is 18+ only.
Warnings: Extreme violence and gore, biting, dubcon, forced breeding, gross las plagas-y things, death, mentions of un-aliving. DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT.
A/N: Heavily inspired by this artwork by @chanif-art on Tumblr along with Project Scorpion by @tagzpite. Literally could not get this idea out of my head until I wrote it down. Definitely going to be another series. We're also going to pretend D.S.O. was founded way sooner than 2011 k byeeeeee
“I fought a war and I learned how to win, but how do you fight when the enemy’s within?”
You step out of an elevator led by two armed D.S.O. operatives in tactical gear deep underground at HQ, your white lab coat flowing gently as you walk forward. Grasped in your right hand is a voice recorder. You and the operatives go through a series of heavy steel doors leading you into the bowels of the underground facility.
Is all this really necessary? you think to yourself as you’re led deeper into the abyss.
Finally, you’re brought to a single cell enclosed with clear polycarbonate panels with steel reinforcements. In this cell was a man sitting in a chair that was bolted into the floor, his hands chained behind his back and his legs chained to the legs of the chair. This man is Agent Leon S. Kennedy. You approach one of the panels closest to the steel door keeping him in.
Switching the voice recorder on and bringing it to your mouth, you state your name before continuing, “The year is 2004. The subject is field agent Leon Scott Kennedy, currently 27 years old and exhibiting the late stages of Las Plagas infestation, his body is covered in dark, vein like marks. Subject is currently slumped over in the chair. He appears to be catatonic.”
Bringing the recorder away from your mouth, you motion to one of the operatives to guard the door. You input a passcode into a key panel next to the door. It lets out a hiss as it slowly swings open. As you step in, the door swings closed and locks.
You bring the recorder back to your mouth and continue, “Agent Kennedy?”
You watch as Leon slowly lifts his head, his face completely covered in the dark veins, his once blue eyes now have a slight red tinge to them, it makes your stomach twist in sorrow, he used to be such a handsome man.
“Subject appears to still have some cognitive ability left as he immediately recognized his name. We’re still trying to understand how he hasn’t broken down now that the alpha Plagas host, Osmund Saddler, has been destroyed--”
“I’m right here, you know,” Leon suddenly spoke, making you jump.
“Ag-Agent Kennedy!” you reply, eyes wide in shock that he’s able to speak.
“Please, just call me Leon, sweetheart.”
His dark gaze seemed to pierce straight into your very soul. You collect yourself, clearing your throat.
“How are you feeling, Leon?”
Leon looks down at himself, tugging gently at his restraints before looking back up at you, “all things considered, I actually feel pretty damn good.”
“That’s… good, I guess,” you reply, your nervousness clear in your voice.
You hadn’t prepared for this, every researcher that attempted to interact with him got absolutely nothing out of him, hence why they sent you down. You argued with them, not seeing the point but now you began to realize that the difference was they were all men, you were a woman.
“Awww… there’s no need to be so nervous, sweetheart, it’s just me, Leon Kennedy. I promise I don’t bite,” he says, a small smirk appearing on his lips, “hard.”
“Do you know where you are and why you’re here, Leon?”
He lets out a chuckle, “yeah, I’m in D.S.O.’s research facility because I’m turning into a monster.”
“That’s putting it rather bluntly, but yes, that’s correct.”
“About time they sent someone cute down here to visit me, the rest were much too dull. If I wasn’t chained up, I’d ask you out to dinner and a movie.”
You feel yourself blushing, “that’s… very kind of you Leon, however that won’t be happening anytime soon, I’m afraid.”
“That’s a shame, because I’d love to take you to bed and make you scream my name,” he growls, a sinister grin overtaking him.
Your heart is pounding out of your chest as your eyes widen at him. This wasn’t like Leon at all, the parasite was clearly twisting his thoughts. You panic, turning around to motion the operatives to open the door and let you out. As soon as you’re out of the cell, you briskly walk away from the cell as fast as you can, not once looking back. You could have swore you heard Leon’s laugh echo after you.
“I am not going back down there, are you insane?!”
“You’re the first person he has actually spoken to since he got back from Spain,” the lead researcher, Bryan said, setting your voice recorder down onto his desk.
“So? Your point? I’m not doing it and that’s final!”
“Look, this recording gives us valuable data on him, it’s clear that the Plagas inside him is mutating into a more dominant strain. It must know it’s the last one left,” Bryan said, pleading with you.
“So we’re just going to poke and prod him like he’s some guinea pig? Leon wouldn’t have wanted that! Are you sure there’s no way we can cure him?”
“If we attempt to remove the parasite now, it will kill him--”
“Then let’s put him out of his misery, this isn’t right!”
The silence between you was deafening. After a few minutes, Bryan finally spoke.
“Judging by this recording, the Plagas has one thing on its mind.”
“Which is…?”
Bryan looked up at you, letting out a heavy sigh, “reproduction.”
“All the more reason I shouldn’t be going back down there!”
“He’ll be restrained and you’ll have at least two operatives with you at all times, you’ll be safe,” Bryan leans forward on his desk, folding his hands together, “the data you collect from Agent Kennedy is invaluable in finding out how the parasite works, just… go down and talk to him. I know yesterday was unnerving but there is one thing he said that is true, he’s just Leon Kennedy. He’s in there somewhere, even if the Plagas is influencing him.”
You cross your arms, staring at the floor, letting out a frustrated sigh before looking back up at Bryan, “fine. But I want hazard pay.”
“Consider it done, here’s your recorder back,” Bryan says, sliding the recorder across the desk towards you.
You grab the recorder of the desk, turning on your heel to walk out of Bryan’s office.
“You are to report down there in an hour, you hear me?” Bryan calls after you just as you walk out the door.
You fight the urge to flip him off, thinking better of it. You walk down the hall into your office, getting your lab coat back on and sitting at your desk. You press play on the recorder, listening back on your interaction with Leon several times. There was one part where you repeated it several times, sending chills down your spine.
“That’s a shame, because I’d love to take you to bed and make you scream my name.”
How long had Leon been locked down here, chained to this chair? How many men in lab coats came and tried to talk to him? He knew he was a lost cause, why were they keeping him alive? How many times did he wish death would come and take him in his sleep?
But then you came, awakening something in him.
Your natural scent filled the cell completely, so many hours had gone by and he could still smell you and you smelled absolutely divine. He couldn’t stop thinking about you, the way your voice was so sweet yet filled with drive and intelligence. The way you blushed when he flirted with you. The way your heartbeat began to race at just the mere mention of taking you.
God you were so cute when you ran off, all flustered, he couldn’t help but laugh; he hadn’t felt alive like that in so long. His reminiscing was interrupted suddenly when he could hear footsteps coming down the hall. Lifting his head, he practically began to salivate when he saw you had returned.
You came back to me, baby, where you belong…
“The subject appears to be conscious and alert, he watched us as soon as we were in his line of sight,” you say as he watches you speak into the voice recorder.
With a hiss, the door opens and you step inside. Leon breathed in deep, taking in the smell of you, you smelled even better than you had yesterday. He feels his cock twitch in his pants in excitement. He watches as the door behind you closes and locks, just like it had yesterday, trapping you in here with him.
Curse these fucking chains…
“You’re more lively today, Leon, care to tell me why?” you ask, your voice flat and void of any emotion.
“How about you tell me why you smell so nice,” Leon replies, grinning at you, drool running from his mouth down his chin.
He watches you shift uncomfortably before you continue, “I’m not answering that.”
Leon scoffs, shaking his head, “then I’m not going to talk to you, sweetheart.”
You take a deep breath, “if I’m going to be honest, I don’t know why I smell so nice to you, Leon.”
His red eyes scan up and down your form, imagining it without all those needless clothes. Imagining himself pinning you to the floor and fucking you stupid. A strange, clicking sound came out of him from the back of his throat as he pulled aggressively on the chains holding him to the chair. He watches as the two men with guns outside become alert. Leon lets out a low growl as he glares at them.
You turn to face the men, signaling to them to stand down. He watches them both relax before you return your attention to him.
“The transformation appears to be progressing faster than expected,” you say into the recorder, “are you in any pain, Leon?”
Leon slowly shakes his head, “no, just unbelievably horny, doll.”
“We have reason to believe the subject is displaying an increased libido due to the fact that the parasite inside him knows it’s the last of its kind.”
“Stop talking about me like I’m not here, that’s awfully rude.”
“Fine,” you say, lowering the recorder away from your mouth, “what do you want to talk about, Leon?”
“You should ask those nice boys out there to take these chains off me,” Leon purrs, staring at you longingly.
“Absolutely not, Leon,” you reply, crossing your arms, “those chains are there for my safety as well as your own, at least until we can get the Plagas out of your body.”
“I think I’m too far gone for that, don’t you think, sweetheart?”
You take a deep breath and exhale loudly, the sorrow clear in your eyes, “I am so sorry that this is what you have become, Leon.”
“I’m not,” Leon says as that sinister grin overtakes him again; he starts to chuckle.
“Leon,” you begin, stepping closer and kneeling down to be eye level with Leon, “I know the real you is in there, somewhere, you have to fight it.”
Your scent was almost enough to drive him crazy, you were delectable. He licks his lips, that clicking sound coming out from this throat again. His eyes are locked on you and he sees you glance down briefly before looking back into his eyes. He knew what you were looking at, you were looking at the noticeable bulge in his cargo pants.
“You’re so pretty, you know that?” Leon says, his body visibly trembling.
You don’t respond, you simply stare at him with that same sad look in your eyes. How could you not want him as much as he wanted you. His lips curl into a snarl.
“Let me FUCK YOU!” he growls, lunging forward, the bolts in the chair letting out a loud screech as they’re bent slightly.
You stumble back, falling backwards onto the floor as Leon continues to struggle violently. The two men with guns come rushing in, one of them grabbing you off the floor while the other shoots a tranquilizer dart into Leon’s thigh. Leon feels the effects almost instantly, his body becomes limp as he becomes sluggish, his mouth hanging agape as he watches you get led out of the room by the two men, the door shutting and locking behind them as you’re led away.
“Mine,” he whispers in his last moments of consciousness, “all mine.”
Part 2
#leon kennedy#leon s kennedy#leon kennedy x reader#leon s kennedy x reader#leon kennedy smut#leon kennedy x reader smut#yandere!leon kennedy#plagas!leon kennedy#gigabyte writes#insatiable
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Chapter Summary: You wake up dazed and confused, no memory of anything he was saying. But it's Leon, and you can trust him right? Besides, maybe a vacation is exactly what you needed.
Pairing: Yandere!RE4R Leon x Fem!Reader
Tags: NSFW, Dead Dove, Dubcon, Kidnapping, Stalking, Smut, Unprotected Sex, Pet Names, violence, gore, MDNI, masturbation, murder, slow burn. Psychological manipulation, abuse of power, etc. no use of y/n. PTSD, flashbacks. There is smut this chapter.
WC: 9.5k
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It’d been a long time since you had such a good night's sleep, not even realizing the way you conked out completely on top of Leon. The even sound of his heartbeat in your ear – ba-bump, ba-bump, ba-bump – lulled you like the world’s best white noise machine. His warmth was comforting in a way no space heater could be. The smell of his fresh and spicy cologne was familiar. The combination was killer and before you knew it, not even the rumbling in your stomach was enough to keep you awake on top of him.
It was reminiscent of the nights you’d spent in his apartment all those weeks ago after everything happened. Leon was your comfort, he was your safe space. After speaking with Dr. Birkin, while still not fully having come to terms with things, you were at least able to get rid of the guilt and lean into the man under you – leaving you weightless, at least for the moment.
When you woke, it was due to the feeling of wind on your face, cold air stinging at your nose. The feeling of confinement made you panic, gasping as you clawed around until you realized you were no longer on your couch, but Leon’s jeep.
“You good?” He asked, looking over to you.
You were too busy looking around in confusion, panting as you tried to calm down. “Yeah I’m just… I’m confused.”
“Confused about what?” He asked, cooly flipping on the blinker, his free hand making its way over to your thigh giving it a reassuring squeeze.
“We were on the couch, and now I’m in the car. What happened?”
“That was this morning, don’t you remember?”
You shook your head. “No, no I –”
“Hey, it’s alright. Don’t worry about it. You’re probably just tired.”
It was dark out, definitely well into the middle of the night if you had to guess. The only lights were the high beams of his jeep and the overhead moon — no familiarity of the city. Just thick trees and empty grass fields every now and then. If Leon hadn’t been with you, heavy hand on your leg, you’d have panicked from sheer lack of awareness. The sound of his voice cleared your head. “I honestly thought you’d have been out longer.”
“I don’t understand.” You paused for a moment, fidgeting with the soft knit sleeves of your sweater — you hadn’t remembered changing clothes either. “We fell asleep on my couch after ordering food. I don’t remember anything after that . . . but I don’t get why I was tired again if we slept. Where are we even going? Leon, I’m really confused right now.”
“Hey, hey. It’s alright.” He cooed, moving the hand that was resting on your thigh to gently pry your own from its fidgeting, kissing your knuckles gently. “Relax.”
“That doesn’t answer—“
“I’m getting to that.” He assured, laying your hand back onto your lap with his on top. Whatever road you were on was long and winding, barely even speed signs posted throughout. “Sometimes people are just tired, it happens. After we woke up we ate the leftover food, you were talking about stress. I said you needed to relax, I suggested we go on a trip, away from it all for a change.”
An odd uneasiness washed over you at his words. “I don’t remember any of that.” Flashbacks were coming to you the more you saw the pathway, the drive out to the camping spot with Derek, what came next. ‘That wasn’t real. That wasn’t real.’ You tensed, feeling a wave of nausea hit you. “We’re not going camping right?”
“No. No, of course not!”
“Where are we going then?”
“To an old farmhouse.” He said casually. “It’s actually mine. Was left to me by someone I guess I’d consider my adopted father when he passed away. It’s old, but the land is beautiful, there’s tons of cute critters you can see too. Hey, you alright?”
“I don’t know. I guess I’m just held up on the fact that I don’t remember any of this.”
“Well you know, gaps in memory are a thing. That’s what the Doctor said, right?”
“Yeah I guess, but this just feels so immediate. I mean — my job requires two weeks notice. It just doesn’t sound like me to do something so abrupt.”
“I took care of it.”
“What?”
“Your job, I took care of it for you. You brought that up as your first concern. And then your meeting with Doctor Barkin. I have you covered on both fronts, he can do virtual sessions.”
“Oh. Ok.” A thick silence overcame you both as you settled back into the carseat, rubbing at your tired eyes. “What about Mrs. Wilson?”
“What about her?”
“I was still checking in on her when I could…even after…you know…when my leg was hurt. At least I tried to.” Truthfully it had only been a few times over the course of those weeks that you managed to make it over to the old woman’s apartment. But you did call more often to check-in, ordered groceries and other items she needed.
“Don’t worry about that either.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah. I promise, I have everything taken care of. All you need to do is relax, rest. It’ll be alright.”
“Ok.” What else could you say? It felt strange, the whole situation felt strange, but everything always did. There was no point in questioning him further or arguing, so you instead focused on the drive, sitting quietly in your seat.
“We’re almost there.” He added, breaking the tension. “Maybe 30 more minutes at most.”
You nodded in response, returning to leaning against the doorframe watching the scenery pass by. The road had narrowed out into an open field, the pavement replaced by a dirt road that expanded farther out than you could see past the headlights. It felt eerie in an existential way, the expanse of field, being the only two alone on the empty road. It made you feel small and uneasy.
True to his word, no more than 30 minutes later, the dirt road narrowed further into a tight path of trees with only enough room for one vehicle to pass. The dark tube of greenery opened up to reveal the house, just as Leon described. An old fashioned farm house — two stories with a gigantic wrap around deck. In the dim light it was hard to make out much more detail than that.
“Here we are.”
The inside was nicer than expected — but then given the upgrades Leon had made to his apartment, maybe it shouldn’t have come as a surprise. The plush sectional in the living room was huge, followed by a large TV mounted to the wall. Unlike his apartment there was more decor hung to the walls, little knick knacks scattered around. The place looked nice, lived in.
You felt his arm wrap around you from behind, gently corralling you towards the staircase. Opposite of the stairs was a door, it looked different from the others you’d seen so far, too sturdy looking. A keypad type lock was above the hook-styled doorknob. “That’s fancy.” You pointed out as you let him guide you further up the stairs.
“Oh yeah – I keep some work equipment down there.” He replied quickly, his other hand adjusting to lift the bags he was carrying, ensuring they didn’t smack the stairs as he went.
The top floor plan was simple, two bedrooms, a large open area that connected to an upstairs balcony, and of course a bathroom. The bedroom was different, less modern than the setup of the downstairs. It was like it was ripped out of a vintage magazine, a fancy blue duvet set and a sturdy dark wood bed frame holding the king sized bed all together. No closet to be seen, but there was a matching dresser and wardrobe set. It was cozy.
You followed Leon’s lead, setting your phone on the nightstand before unpacking your things.
“You hungry?” He asked, folding the last of his things into the dresser drawer.
“A little, yeah.”
“I can do breakfast for dinner. Tomorrow we can go to the store to get some actual groceries.”
“Sounds good to me.”
You followed him back downstairs, leaning against the island, watching as he flicked on the burner to heat up the pan. The smokey scent of bacon and the popping sizzle of grease filled the kitchen, making your stomach rumble. It felt domestic in a nice way, normal. You watched his broad shoulders from behind as he focused on cooking. You had the urge to hug him from behind, press a kiss to his back – you didn’t act on it though.
The relationship between you was still strange, you weren’t able to put a label on it. Whatever the two of you were was trapped in some liminal space between couple, friends, and caretaker. It made you freeze before initiating on your end, even if you’d never deny it when he does it.
To not have to deal with the feelings, you chose to take a better look around while you waited. Circling the living room a few times, running your hand over the soft fabric of the couch, before swinging around through the french doors into what looked like a sunroom repurposed into a library. The walls were covered in large bookshelves, each filled. Most were encyclopedias, college textbooks, science books for things you didn’t quite understand. There was a desk in the corner, an older looking laptop caked in dust sat on it.
Nothing was really interesting to look at, you were going to return to Leon when you noticed an open shoebox settled on one of the shelves, almost missing it as it sat atop some shorter books. It felt like snooping, but your curiosity got the better of you, pulling it down to peek. It didn’t have a lot, some documents with a few pictures scattered.
The first was an image of a younger looking Leon, same cropped hair and smile, but with far more boyish features. He was standing next to a stern looking man in a police uniform. Leon was holding what looked like a diploma of some kind. The next was a much more recent photo, dated for only a few months before you and Leon had even met. He was wearing that suit you saw him pack for work. “Oh shit –” You muttered to yourself, noting the girl standing next to him. “Ashley Graham?” It made sense, he worked for the government, but still, the president’s daughter? It seemed more than professional, the way he smiled at her, hand on his shoulder.
You went to toss both images back into the box when you realized that the first had another stuck to it. It was just a picture of a girl, brown hair pulled over her shoulder as she looked off into the distance, sitting on a bench. There was nothing really noteworthy about it, no label or date either.
“What are you doing?”
Leon’s voice nearly made you jump out of your skin, seeing him standing in the doorway. “Sorry, I was just looking.”
“Where’d you get those?”
“They were just in this box, sorry, I shouldn’t have looked without asking.”
He took the photos from your hand eyeing them before tossing them back into the box for you. “It’s fine. I thought I’d tossed them all anyway.” He said, chucking the whole box into the trash on his way back to the kitchen.
“Why’d you do that?”
“They’re just memories I’d rather not remember.” He said coolly as he set the plated food out on the kitchen island.
“I can respect that.” You replied, not questioning him further. If there was anything you understood, it would be wanting to rid yourself of certain memories – though his were real pieces of his life.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The following morning started off rough. Out of habit you went to grab your phone off the nightstand the moment your eyes cracked open – yet all you felt was the hard wood of the table. You slapped your hand around a few times, still not feeling it. By the time Leon had woken up, you were buried into the wardrobe, digging into pockets of your own clothing, searching the bags too.
“What’s up?” He asked with a yawn, scratching the side of his head. Parts of his hair stuck up a little unkempt from sleeping. You frowned at him, shutting the wardrobe’s doors. “I can’t find my phone. I had it last night.”
He nodded at you, rubbing some sleep from his eyes. “You sure? I don’t remember seeing it.”
“Leon don’t… don’t say that please.”
“Ok, ok. Let me call it.” He plucked his own phone up, you could hear the quiet dial tone and ringing through his speaker, but no vibration or ringing anywhere else in the room. You chewed your lip out of frustration, tapping your foot on the ground. He rested his hands on your shoulders giving them a light squeeze. “Look, it’s almost time for your appointment with Dr. Birkin. Why don’t you focus on that and I’ll look for it?”
“Well how am I supposed to even go to said appointment witho–”
“I got you covered.” He said, placing a quick kiss to your temple. “Laptop downstairs, already logged in. Set it up last night.”
“Alright.” You conceded, not having much choice in the matter anyway.
The appointment itself was standard. You talked about your feelings, he asked questions here and there. You answered. It didn’t feel nearly as emotionally heavy this time as before, and if anything you left feeling better having spoken about things again. It was also another sobering reminder of how much you needed Leon – how out of it you’d be without him.
Stretching from the hour of sitting in an office chair, Leon knocked on the door frame to get your attention before making his way to you.
“How did it go?”
“It went well.”
“I’m glad to hear that.”
“Did you ever find my phone?”
“Unfortunately not, I checked everywhere, including the jeep.”
“I guess I must’ve left it at home.”
“One less distraction from your mini vacation.”
“Mmmm true.” You conceded, following him out the library. “You still need company for that trip to the store?”
“Would be lonely going alone. Might even get lost in one of the aisles.” He said with that signature smirk of his.
You couldn’t help but laugh in return. “Can’t let that happen.”
The air outside was a little nippy, not wanting to change you asked if you could borrow a jacket. He pointed you to the hall closet, the one just inside the front door. You prodded around, there were several of what you assumed were Leon’s hanging up. A leather one with white stripes on the arms had your interest, you almost grabbed it when you saw a different one next to it. The bright red color caught your eye as you moved to pull it off of the hanger. It was smaller than the others, a woman’s styled leather jacket. You wondered for a moment why he would have something like that – an unfamiliar feeling of jealousy sparking up for a moment, you pushed it away telling yourself it didn’t matter. You slid the jacket on, fitting like a glove. It still had the lingering scent of perfume on it, one you recognized as your own. Not lingering to think about the situation further, you ran back out to the jeep.
“There you are. Took so long I was starting to think you got lost in there.” When Leon lifted his head from the radio to look at you, his expression changed entirely, posture stiffening up like a cat.
“Yeah, almost found my way to Narnia.” You joked, settling into the carseat.
“Why are you wearing that?” His voice was sharp, sounding like some kind of accusation, not a question.
“Well all I found were heavy winter coats and leather jackets. I saw this and thought it would be a better fit.”
His knuckles turned white as he grasped onto the steering wheel, vision straight ahead at the house. He held his breath in for a moment, like a cartoon character about to pop and let steam out of their ears. “That belongs to her, it isn’t for you to wear.”
You weren’t sure how to respond to that. Immediately you were on edge, swallowing down that nervous dryness in your throat. “I’m sorry – “
“Take it off.”
“Right, I can go grab another —”
“No, give it to me.” He said, putting his hand out expectantly.
Not wanting to argue with him, and more confused than anything, you quickly unzipped the jacket, sliding it off and handing it to him. Shuddering a little from the cold breeze hitting you now. He took it, tossing it into the back seat, his other hand still glued to the wheel, squeezing it tightly.
“I’m sorry if I did something wrong.”
“I think it’s best if you stay here.”
“But Leon “
“Out of the car!” He snapped, this time pointing back to the house. The sound of his voice made you jump in your seat, scrambling to open the door and step out onto the grassy ground. The moment the jeep’s door was shut, he was backing away so loud the tires whirred loudly, kicking up some of the dirt on the ground as he spun it around and took off down the road, leaving you where you stood, some mud specks on your face.
It reminded you of the movie theaters, getting left there out in the cold. The hurt and anxiety you felt after. But this was really happening, and you had no idea why. Standing there for a few seconds, like a lost child, you looked around taking in the place now in the view of sunlight. The dark trees that wrapped around the property danced in the wind. The house itself is more visible, the wooden exterior plated over itself, white painting chipping from the sides. You moved to stand on the wrap-around patio, following it around the house and towards the back yard to get a better view of the property you couldn’t see in the shadows of the previous night.
There wasn’t much to see from where you stood. A small garden in the back that hadn’t been maintained in sometime from the wild weeds and flowers that were scattered about. A decorative white fence latticed in vines and other foliage wrapped around the backyard, separating that section of land from the rest. Your standard hammock like bench-swing swung idly in the wind on the back part of the patio.
With nothing more to see and the chill of the outside creeping up again, you made your way back inside, relishing in the warmth of the house. Not sure how long you decided to stay outside, or even what time it was, instinctively you reached for your phone, patting at your pocket before remembering that it wasn’t with you. ‘Shit.’ You cursed inwardly, pinching the bridge of your nose.
Without Leon around, the house felt huge. It occurred to you that you were really all alone out in the middle of nowhere. No vehicle, no Leon, and not even a phone. It made your spine tingle, you squirmed a bit in place to get the feeling to go away before deciding to flop onto the couch.
‘I don’t get why he’s so upset. I would’ve just changed.’ You thought to yourself, mindlessly flipping through streaming apps. ‘Who is she anyway?’ The thought of Leon being angry with you made you want to cry. You didn’t though – managing to keep it together enough to idly watch some stupid show.
You hadn’t really paid attention to how many episodes you watched or how much time had passed. The soft rumbling of your stomach was the only other indicator that it had been awhile. As if on cue, you could hear the familiar sound of the jeep’s engine outside, whirring to a stop. Next came the inevitable footsteps on the porch, followed by the door opening.
Like a puppy, you bounded from the couch over to the sound, careful to get too close, scared he was still upset with you. There he was, hair slicked back slightly, multiple bags of groceries dangling on each arm.
“Is that all of them, I can help –”
“I got it.” He said flatly. The words cut you, deflated you.
“Oh, ok.” You heeled back a bit, not moving from your spot. ‘So he is still mad.’
Tearing your eyes off of him, you looked down at the floor, fidgeting with your hands as you worked up to the courage to do or say something. The consideration to return to the couch won and you scurried back to sit and go back to your show.
A while later, the smell of food filled your nose, and a plate was held before you. Your eyes trailed up the muscular arm to meet Leon’s gaze as you took it from him. “Thank you…and hey look about earlier, I’m sorry.”
He sat next to you on the couch, his entire posture more relaxed than earlier. Setting his own plate down on the coffee table, and leaned back, one arm slung casually over the back of the couch. “Don’t even worry about it. It’s over with.”
You nodded, taking a small bite of the pasta you twirled up on your fork. The silence lingering over the both of you made you feel heavy. Against your better judgment, you looked over to him and prodded. “Can I ask who she was?”
He looked a little short circuited as he processed the question, like he was deciding what the right answer was. “An ex.”
“Oh.”
“Let’s just say things didn’t end on good terms. I don’t really want to talk about it.”
“Right, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. You didn’t know.” He leaned over and pressed a quick kiss to your cheek before grabbing his plate to eat himself. “You know.” He added, “It’s still early enough in the day. I was thinking we should still get out of the house.”
“Sure. Did you have something in mind?”
“Yeah, a surprise.” He added with a big smirk.
You couldn’t help but match his smile, the corners of your mouth tugging up instinctively. “Sounds good.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It was the late afternoon, nearly early evening when you found yourself out by the lake. There was a small dirt path that led from the backyard and down through the woods. It had opened up to a small clearing by the water, some crude seating and a stone-campfire set up already there.
Initially there was trepidation on your part, worried that the site of the woods might stir some of those bad memories up. He managed to convince you though, promising to take you back the moment you became uncomfortable if you wanted.
So far things were ok. The last of the warm sun beat down onto your back as you laid out on the soft towel beneath you. It was refreshing and relaxing – it’d been so long since you’d had that full sense of pure normalcy and relief. Arms crossed under your head, you watched Leon as waded through the shallower part of the water. He stopped when the water landed just below his navel, looking out towards the trees behind you.
Your eyes ran from the dusty blonde happy trail upwards, over his abs and to his pecs, before finally landing on his eyes. The way the warm tones of the sunset casted down onto him, made him look beautiful, like he belonged in a painting. The blonde in his hair was contrasted by the different shades of purple and orange that lit his right side. Before the light of the day was finally gone, you wanted to get closer – see if it did wonders for the pools of blue in his eyes.
Stretching out like a cat, you languidly crawled to your feet, wading into the cool water. A slight hiss escaped you at the abrupt change in temperature, but you continued forward until you reached him.
“Well hello there.” He looked down at you running his wet thumb over your collar bone slightly. “Almost thought you were sleeping over there.”
“Almost was.” You confirmed. “But that was before I realized there was a view to admire.” This moment felt familiar, safe.
“Why do I get the feeling you’re not talking about the lake?” That damn smirk again, got you every time. Your theory was right too, the specks and hues of blue stood out under his thick eyelashes as he looked down at you. He was gorgeous. So very Leon.
“Well maybe that’s because I’m not.” Placing a hand on his chest, you moved a little closer to him.
“You’re not talkin’ about me are you?”
“I just might be.” Leaning real close, you nearly stood on your tip toes, lips so close you could feel his breath gently fanning your face. You could see what he was expecting as his lips twitched. Unfortunately for him you broke the tension by splashing some water on him, your own smile twisting into an amused smirk.
“You play dirty.” He accused, splashing back at you. “Get back over here coward.” He said playfully, following you as you cowered back to shore to avoid his onslaught of water, stopping every now and then to launch a counter attack.
Your back hit the soft sand of the shore, him on top of you, elbows on either side of your head. You couldn’t help but laugh at the cheesy exchange, genuine happiness rumbling in your chest. “Very cute, sweetheart.”
“I’d like to think so.”
Again you were close, face to face, but it was his turn to deny you. He pushed himself up and out of the water. “It’ll be dark soon. You want to go back?”
Pondering the question for a moment, you shook your head. “Not yet. I’m having a good time.”
“Glad to hear it.” Digging around through the bag he’d brought out with the both of you, he pulled out a zippo lighter and some bundle of what almost looked like tumbleweed tied together. He held the small flame to the fire starter before tossing it into the bundle of wood that had been left in the fire pit.
Everything was fine at first until the licking flames picked up intensity, the entirety of the pit filling with the dancing orange and yellow lights – high enough for the heat of the flame to slap against your face. A tightness in your chest formed, freezing you in place like a statue. Your throat dried and contracted like trying to breath in dust.
“My head. It’s splitting my head.” Your head turned side to side, scanning for the source of the voice. The world around you black besides the flames.
“IT’S SPLITTING MY HEAD!”
The words were so loud it was like a flashbang against your ears, brain rattling in your head. You couldn’t focus on anything, the hazy colors before your eyes turning into a kaleidoscope from the water forming in your eyes.
“IT’S SPLITTING MY HEAD!”
You couldn’t breathe at all now, gasping desperately for air. Every time you blinked a shadowy figure moved in the fire, a tentacle-like outline whipped about above it. ‘Leon. Leon please I’m scared.’ You couldn’t get the words to vocalize out of your mouth, trapped in your throat.
“Sweetheart?” Leon’s voice whispered in your ear, two large arms snaking around you from behind to hold you close. “It’s ok. Breathe baby.” He cooed. You squeezed your eyes shut, gulping down as much air as you could. “There you go. There you go.” You did it a second time, and a third, until your breathing evened out and you could ground yourself where you stood. The heat of his torso was pressed against your back, the weighted feelings of his arms. “I’m right here. You’re safe.”
When you dared to crack your eyes open again, the world was normal. No shadowy blackness, no bleak figure, just the fire crackling in front of you. The trees swishing back and forth, lit up by the twinkling stars and moon, sun having fully set. And of course, Leon. You spun in his arms, wrapping your own around him, he tightened the hug holding you close. “God I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry…I….god.”
“Shhh. Shhhh.” He rubbed your back softly. “Why don’t we head back?”
“No!” You snapped, looking up at him. “No, I don’t want to go back yet.”
He flashed you a confused look, opening to say something, but you cut him off. “Please. I was having such a good time. I’m sick of being crazy. I…it was just one incident. I don’t want to go yet.”
“Ok.” He agreed. “Ok, we won’t go yet.” Conceding his tucked some of your hair behind your ear again, clearly still concerned, but not pushing it.
You plopped down onto the towel, facing the fire. No more threatening images for the time being. The two of you sat in silence, his hand over yours on the ground. It took a while for your heart rate to fully go back to normal, for the feeling of being on edge to fully dissipate, but once it did you felt like you were floating, just sitting next to him – like his hand was an anchor and without it you’d just drift away into the vast emptiness of the sky. You didn’t deserve him but God you were sure you loved him – the first time you could admit it even inside your own thoughts. It was freeing. No guilt or shame attached, just the gooey feeling of contentment.
“Leon?”
“Hmm?”
“Thank you. For all of this.”
“Don’t mention it.”
“I mean it.”
“I know.” He lifted your hand to his mouth, kissing it gently.
“I like you.”
He let out a soft chuckle against your knuckles. “Well geez, I’d hope so. I like you too.”
It felt a little pathetic to announce yourself that way. “Can I ask you something?”
“Shoot.”
“What are we?”
He looked up to meet your gaze, his expression soft but serious. You watched Adam's apple flex as he swallowed nothing, analyzing the question. “What do you want us to be?”
“Maybe more than friends?” You offered a non-absolute answer, nervous of any true rejection.
“I think we already are more than friends.”
“Well yeah, true.” You tapered the conversation off, not brave enough to ask for more definitives just yet.
He dropped your hand in favor of scooting closer to you, wrapping his arm around you to pull you onto his lap. “Why don’t you tell me what you’re really feeling.”
“Why are you so perfect?” Your words were barely above a whisper as you slunk your arms around his shoulders.
“Far from it, actually.”
“Disagree. God I disagree.” His retort stopped dead when you blurted out the next words so quickly they shocked even yourself. “I think I love you.” You’re not sure you’d even seen him with such a deer in the headlights expression on his face before, it made you feel the urge to backtrack, suck the words right back in. “I’m sorr –”
He pressed his lips against yours, silencing any apology. Your heart skipped a beat, blood feeling boiling hot each time it pumped through you. You returned the kiss this time, softly, slowly. It wasn’t like the quick passion at his apartment. “Can I have you?” You whispered into his neck, kissing at his pulse.
“I’m already yours.”
You responded by nipping at that same spot. “Take me?”
He sucked in a breath at the sensation, squeezing you a little tighter to him. You could feel his cock twitch in his swim shorts. “Are you sure?” His voice was low. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable again, move too fast.”
“I’m sure this time. Very sure. Please, I just want you.”
He pulled you back from him just enough to scan your face, giving you one more moment to back out. When you didn’t say anything else, he kissed you again, this time leaning forward with you until you were laying on your back. His lips were as soft and plush as you remembered them, making you want more.
“You’re so beautiful, you know that?” He asked, mouthing more kisses along your neck and chest. He made quick work of your bathing suit top, sliding the straps out of their tied knot and tossing it gently to the side. Arousal mixed with the light breeze blowing the warmth of the fire past you made your nipples perk up, sensitive as ever. It didn’t go unnoticed by him as he took the opportunity to run his tongue along your collarbone before following down the center of your chest. The trail of saliva left behind drying in the outside air making your skin tingle in the best possible way.
He pressed another kiss to the side of your right breast before he teased your nipple, flicking it with licks of his tongue a few times before sucking it into his mouth. The sensation made you squirm beneath him, thighs squeezing together around his leg that was planted between them. By the time he’d moved on to your other tit, you were rubbing yourself against his leg for some relief. He chuckled, popping off with a smile. “So needy baby. Must’ve been pent up these last few months.”
“Mhmm” You nodded, eyes already hazed over with lust, mind empty of any critical thought.
“Don’t worry, I’ll make you feel really good. Scouts honor.” He punctuated the sentence by moving down to nip at your hip making you buck up a little. Amused by the reaction he did it again, this time on the plushness of your inner thigh while he worked the ties of your bottoms off as well, discarding them with the top. He returned to what he was doing, this time sucking a bruise into the soft skin. Then another, each one a pleasurably dull kind of pain. He flattened his tongue to each one, helping soothe out the pain. “Purple’s really your color baby.” He cooed, admiring his work.
Your clit throbbed with need, hole begging for attention. He rested one hand on your hip, rubbing soft circles into it as he continued to tease you, pressing a kiss to your mound, another on the opposing thigh. “Leon.” You whined. “Please I need more.”
“I know, I know. I’m getting there sweetheart. Just wanna take my time, been imagining this for so long.” He rewarded your please by dragging the tip of his tongue down before flattening it against your clit, lapping at it gently. The sugary heat radiated out as you moaned, fingers working their way into his soft hair, gripping at it.
It should’ve been no surprise Leon was good with his mouth, circling your bundle of nerves with his tongue before sucking on it gently. You’re not sure you’d ever had a lover so attentive before, not even in your false memories. “F-fuck, so good.” You closed your eyes, focusing on nothing but the pleasure he was giving you. You felt him sink a digit into your slicked pussy. It wasn’t enough, but it was better than the nothing that was there before. He added another finger, pumping them as he worked your clit with his tongue.
He curled his thick fingers just right, reaching that special spot inside of you. The one that made your legs tense, clit pulse. What blood was left in your head soared to your lower half, a weak gasp escaping your mouth as you came. Your legs trembled around his head, thighs clamping shut, you’d almost be worried about crushing him if you were capable of thought. He continued to gently work you, not enough to overstimulate, but the perfect amount to draw out that pleasure until it faded to just tingles at the tips of your toes.
You were left breathless, panting as he pulled away, wiping his chin off on the back of his hand. Your eyes landed on the now fully formed tent in his shorts, expecting him to move to get it out, to fuck you into the ground. Instead, he leans back on his legs, looks down at you. The silence feels strange, and you're suddenly reminded of your location – outdoors – as the crickets pick up their chirping, the leaves of the trees crash into each other from the wind. You shiver from the breeze, until it blows in the opposite direction, sending a wave of heat from the campfire washing over you.
When he still doesn’t move, you quickly become self conscious, scared that he was changing his mind. Worry takes over your face as you prop yourself up on your elbows, before you can say it, he leans down to kiss you again. This time he makes a point to slip his tongue into it, letting you taste yourself on him. He wraps his arm around you, holding your head in place to kiss you sloppily. He grinds against you slightly, groaning into the kiss when he does. “Don’t worry princess. I just needed to take a moment after that. Was too good, so perfect, had to take it in.” He knew you so well.
“Want you.” You mumbled against his lips. “Want you in me, wanna feel you. Wanna be close.”
“I know.” He said, reaching his hand down between you both to undo the drawstring of his shorts. He tugged them down just enough to free his erection, thick and throbbing. You couldn’t see it perfectly in the deep shadows that the fire made, but you could feel it. He ran the head along your slit a few times. “Can tell how bad you want me, she’s practically crying for me.”
You suck in a breath at his words, feeling arousal begin to twinge between your legs again. He gently pushed the tip into your soaking folds, the stretch stinging slightly despite his earlier actions. “Oh.” You gasped as he pressed each inch slowly into you. You’d never felt so full before, like he was in your ribs – it was overwhelming and comforting at the same time. “O-oh.” You moaned, feeling him pull out again, grasping up at his shoulders.
He gave a few more slow but deep thrusts, giving you the chance to adjust and accommodate him. “That’s it baby, so tight.” He flattened his palm against your belly, pressing down making the full feeling intensify. Your back arched into his palm, adding to the sensation.
“S’big.” You whined.
“Mhmm. Just relax, you’re doing such a good job. Already taking me so well.” He readjusted your position, leaning forward and pulling your legs up at the same time to hook over his shoulders. The shift made him feel even deeper inside of you, head of his cock pushing against your cervix with each thrust.
You didn’t even know you were this flexible when he practically folded you in half while he fucked himself into you, making sure he was close enough to pepper your face with small kisses when given the opportunity. You heard him mumbling sweet compliments between his increasingly erratic breathing, but you were too blissed out to even register the words.
“God….god…oh my god!” You squeezed the towel beneath you,, bunching it within your fists as he continued to roll his hips against you, wiry blond hair and his pubic bone bumping into your clit as his cock rubbed past that spongy spot, more sensitive now from your first orgasm.
“That’s my girl.” He sped up his pace, the sound of skin slapping mixing with the cackle of the fire as you moved from death-gripping the towel to clawing at his back, desperate for your next release, desperate to be as close as possible to him. “My pretty Bunny.”
The pet name clicked something in your brain, and you lost yourself again, muscles tensing velvety walls tightening around his impossibly big cock as you came again. His own eyes closed, a bead of sweat dripped from his forehead to between your breasts, his own quiet noises picking up in volume, his pace erratic as he chased his own high this time. Pulsing with the aftershocks of your second orgasm, you could feel as he throbbed within you, painting your inside white with his hot seed.
Half asleep and sated, you let out a noise of disappointment when he finally pulled out, wanting to stay as close as you could to him. As if he could read your mind, he immediately pulled you into his embrace, rubbing his hand against your stomach as he spooned you from behind.
The visual of the campfire became blurry the heavier your eyelids grew, and it wasn’t long until you were out like a light, curled against him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You woke up some time later, scrunched up in bed. It was still dark out when you sat up to rub your eyes and yawn. You didn’t remember the journey back but you weren’t surprised Leon had managed that, likely carrying you back in your sleep. If not for your dry throat and desperate need for a glass of water, you’d have flopped right back down to resume your unconsciousness.
Instead, you pushed your legs over the side of the bed, still a little wobbly and exhausted. In your half asleep state it took you an extra minute to register the fact that Leon hadn’t been next to you. “S’weird.” You muttered to yourself, sluggishly moving towards the door and down the hallway.
The house was dark, no light to be seen, not even from the bathroom – which you noted was open, no Leon inside. As you took a few steps down the staircase, you could see from above the living room was also dark and silent, not even the TV’s screensaver was on, and the only light emanating from the kitchen was the small light above the stove.
A more awake version of yourself would’ve been a little more worried with his whereabouts, but for now you only had one mission – water. The moment the tap finished filling up the glass cup, you gulped it down, and then another. Soothing the cottony feeling in your mouth and the soreness of your throat.
Relieved and quenched, you exited the kitchen heading back to bed. Though still tired, you were slightly more alert now, rubbing at your eyes again while you walked. Passing the double doors to the library room, you heard Leon’s voice, and it stopped you in your tracks.
“I miss you.”
“Huh?” The words caught your attention instantly. One of the double french doors was cracked enough that you could peer through without much effort. While the initial reaction had been jealousy, the fear he was talking to another woman on the phone, you were left dumbfounded by the reality.
He was sitting at the desk, the red jacket in his hands as he spoke. “You know I didn’t want things to end this way. I thought you were perfect for me. We could’ve been so great together.” He brought the jacket to his face, taking in a deep inhale of it, holding his breath before finally exhaling. “I blame it on him, putting those awful thoughts in your head. Tearing you away from me.” His grip on the jacket tightened so much you could see the vein in his arm flex even with just the dim lamp on the desk and the distance between you.
‘What the hell?’ You weren’t sure what to make of what you were witnessing, but you knew it didn’t sit right with you. It was just…weird.
“I wish you didn’t force me to end things. But it’s alright, I’ve moved on. I know you’d be happy for me.” He spit onto his hand, moving it beneath the desk. A whimper left his mouth, needier, different from how he sounded above you. Wet schlicking noises told you exactly what he was doing as he sniffed the jacket again. “You both wear the same perfume. Love it so much.” He added between grunts. “God. Might take me a minute baby. Already blew a load earlier.” The sounds picked up speed.
It felt wrong to keep watching, whatever was happening was a clearly intimate moment you didn’t belong a part of. You took the opportunity to gently back away from the door, and as quietly as you could made it back up to the bedroom, pulling the thick blanket over your head, like a child fending off the boogie man.
“What. The. Fuck.” You whispered to yourself. It left you with a million questions you weren’t completely sure you wanted answers to. An amalgamation of emotions swirled in your head, confusion, worry, jealousy? You knew the jacket smelled like your perfume, but the confirmation as he jerked it to his ex made you shudder. “Gross.”
Your sleepiness had worn off, leaving you to lay awake with your thoughts. It wasn’t long after that the bedroom door creaked open, the sound of soft padding across the floor was heard before the weight of the bed sunk in behind you. Leon’s arm wasn’t comforting as it wrapped around you this time, it felt more like a weight forcing you in place. You wanted to pretend you were asleep, but the claustrophobic feeling was too much making you move a little on instinct.
“Why were you downstairs?”
The question made the hair on your neck stand up despite his warm breath. “I needed some water.”
“Mmmm, you going to lie to me now?”
“What? I’m not –”
“I know you were watching.” His grip around you tightened, squeezing you against him. It felt threatening in a way you couldn’t explain.
“I didn’t mean to.”
“It's not polite to stare.”
“I know.”
“What were you doing downstairs?”
“I told you I was just getting a drink.”
“Then why were you watching?”
“I heard your voice. I didn’t know where you were. I’m sorry.” Tears formed quicker than you expected. He sat up slightly, rolling you to face him. His hand gripped your jaw slightly, you could barely make out his figure in the dark room. He pressed his lips to yours. “Don’t let me catch you spying again.”
“I’m sorry.”
He didn’t reply, instead laying back down, pulling you against his chest. He rubbed your back like he normally did when you fell asleep, but no comfort came from it. The whole thing had you wigged out, bad.
“Leon?”
“Hmm?”
“Is there any way we could head back tomorrow?”
“We have a whole trip planned.”
“I know. I just wanted to get my phone, I’ve been feeling weird without it.” You let out an awkward laugh, hoping to play it off. Really though you were desperate to be closer to other people.
“Sorry I’m not good enough company.” You couldn’t tell if he was joking or not.
“No really. It’s nothing to do with you. Please, we can come back, I just really want to get it.”
“No.” It was so firm it threw you off completely.
“But Leon that’s not f–”
“Leon –”
“I said no. I’m not driving you hours there and back, wasting gas because you forgot your phone. You don’t even need it.”
“It’s not about needing it. I’d just feel more comfortable if I had it.”
“We’ll talk about this tomorrow.”
“I don’t want to talk about it tomorrow, I just want to go home and grab it.”
“I already said, no.”
You yanked yourself away from his space, to the other side of the bed, flicking the lamp on. You can’t remember ever actually having argued with him before, at least not in a true capacity. “You’re making me uncomfortable.”
“You’re being ungrateful.”
His words sliced you like a knife, you frowned. “I’m not –”
“You are.”
“I want to go home. I don’t want to stay here anymore. You can’t just keep me here if I don't want to be.”
“Sweetheart –”
“No, I’m serious Leon. I’m not staying. I don’t know what’s up with this weird thing you have with your ex, or anything else. But I don’t want to be here anymore. I need to go home. I need space.”
He clicked his tongue, sitting up. “We both know that you don’t know what you need. Just come back to bed.”
Resistant, you stood out of the bed staring down at him, face red with anger and upset. “No. Take me home right now.”
He didn’t respond immediately, scanning you with his eyes. “Sweetheart, you’re not going anywhere. Not tonight. Not tomorrow either.”
“I –” He was making you so frustrated. “If you don’t take me home, then I’ll figure out a way home myself.”
“No, you won’t.” He threw his own legs over the side of the bed, righting himself.
When he turned to face you, you felt cornered. To combat the feeling you sidestepped closer to the bedroom door. “Stop.” You said, putting your hand out in front of you, palm open fingers spread out as if that would magically keep him distanced from you. “Stay there.”
“Baby.” He said unamused.
“I mean it.”
“What’s gotten into you?”
“I told you. You’re making me uncomfortable.”
His brows came together as if he was considering what you were saying. You took the opportunity to back up from the door into the hallway. “I think you’re having an episode. I think you need to calm down.”
‘The fucking audacity.’ You thought to yourself taking another step back. Lightning lit up the hallway from the window, the boom of thunder following close behind. Rain pattered against the windows as silence took over the situation between you. He didn’t move from where he was standing in the bedroom, you didn’t move from where your feet were planted in the hallway.
“Please come back to bed?” His voice was soft now, pleading. “I’m really not sure why you’re acting this way right now. But I’m concerned about you. I’m sorry if you’re uncomfortable, just come back ok?” He reached his hand out gently, as if he were taming a wild animal – the only result was you taking a step back.
Defiantly you shook your head.
“Sweetie.”
You took another step back. He sighed, taking a step forward. You felt sick somehow, legs telling you to run again, run before he did something. Run before you’d be stuck just like in the woods. Fear you couldn’t explain. You knew you were being dramatic. It was Leon, there was no reason to be this on edge, even despite the weirdness of the evening, but your nerves told you differently.
“Are you going to take me home?”
“No baby.”
That was it, you bolted as fast as you could, feet skittering across the polished wooden floorboards. If you hadn’t used the bannister, you’d have face planted with the quickness you used to get down the stairs, missing the last few steps entirely. There was no immediate sound of movement behind you, at least none you could hear through your own pulse thrumming in your ears. You tore through the living room looking for a home phone, his cell, anything.
Finally his flat steps were heard coming down the stairs
Your search came up empty. You knew there was nothing in the kitchen. Nervously you slid into the library, slamming the double doors shut and clicking the little turn locks on the inside knobs, just in time for him to be on the other side, gently twisting the knobs.
“Baby, just come out here.”
“No.” You said weakly, looking around the room. The laptop was no longer on the desk, but you did see his keys tossed on the corner of it. With a shaky hand, you reached out and picked them up, tucking the fob into your palm, the metal part sticking out between two fingers as a defensive weapon. He stopped attempting to twist the knobs and instead knocked gently.
“Why don’t you take a minute to calm down?”
“No.” You repeated again, looking for a way out.
“You’re not acting rational.” He added.
There were no other connecting doors besides the ones leading out into the living room area, and you knew you couldn’t make it past Leon that way. The windows to the office were large, missing screens like with most old homes. It wouldn’t take much to slip through one – ‘but which of us would make it out to the jeep first?’
“Just leave me alone!” You yelled back at him, clicking the little latch on the window sill. You waited for the next crack of thunder to make the move. Despite the old wood, the window lifted easily, giving you a view to the patio.
“I can’t do that. You know that.” He replied, seemingly unaware of your plan.
You went out leg first, making sure the key was tight in your fist. Rain was beating down on the ground so hard the yard had practically been rendered all mud, running through it barefoot was going to be a challenge. ‘Just get to the jeep. Just get to the jeep’ You repeated in your head, stepping out into the disgustingly wet dirt, cringing when it mushed between your toes.
Without a second thought, you took off running towards the front of the house, feet slapping into the wet surface of the ground, tshirt and hair soaked in the rain. You tripped over a rock, tumbling flatly splashing up grass and more mud into your face and torso. Not giving up, you righted yourself completely, half falling again as you ran to the car.
By this point Leon had already figured out your plan, the front door of the house slamming open. You looked back only long enough to see him walking towards you as you grabbed the door handle to pull yourself back up and over into the driver's seat. Trembling, you dropped the keys trying to get them into the ignition. “Shit. Shit.” You felt around on the floor, grabbing hold of them again, this time successfully managing to stick them in the ignition and turning the jeep on.
“You’re being so dramatic right now.” He called out, halfway to you. “You’re acting terrified. Just come back inside.”
You shook your head, pulling the gearshift out of the parked position and into reverse, careful to not let it slip in your shaking and wet state. Slamming the gas pedal didn’t go in your favor, instead of moving, the vehicle roared in place, tires spinning against the soft earth, mud flying about, some flinging backwards smacking into you.
“No…no…shit no..” You squeaked, slamming down on the pedal harder, turning the wheel. It still wouldn’t budge, mud and grass going everywhere in the rain. You tried putting it into drive, the whole vehicle lunged forward an inch before getting stuck again. “Come on. Come on.” You begged the universe. Too focused on the jeep, you had lost focus of Leon.
The door opened and he reached over you, pulling the keys out and tossing them into the passenger seat floor somewhere. You went to dive for them when he scooped you up instead, holding you tightly as you kicked and squirmed, clawing at him to get out of his grasp. He didn’t speak, but held firm as he made his way back inside with you, depositing you onto the floor of the entranceway.
You stared up at him, trying to scoot back. There was a claw mark on his face from your nails, a little blood beading up there, a matching one on his shoulder. He knelt down to look at you, face full of concern. He cupped your cheeks in his hands, stopping your movement. “Good god baby, look at you. I mean really, look at you. This isn’t what a sane person would do.” His voice was so sickly sweet, it made you choke out a sob.
“Y-you scared me – I.”
“I scared you? Baby I’m bleeding because of you. You tried to steal my car. You’re soaked, covered in mud….God baby, see this is exactly why I had to bring you out here. Could you imagine what would happen if you acted like this in front of other people?”
“But I –” You looked into his eyes, then at the stripe of blood on his cheek. You looked around, then down at your mud covered body. You felt pathetic. He was right, this was ridiculous, you were ridiculous. “I’m sorry Leon.” You said, face scrunching up into an ugly cry. Like a toddler you sat in front of him sobbing, soaking wet. “You’re right, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“Shhh. Shhh.” He hushed you, one hand leaving your cheek. You felt the sting of something in your side, but were hazy before you could even register anything.
You managed one more snotty sob before your vision was spotty, head becoming harder and harder to hold up – then the relaxing tug of unconsciousness overtook you.
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#Leon Kennedy x reader#Leon Kennedy x you#Leon Kennedy x y/n#Leon kennedy#Leon s kennedy#Leon Kennedy fanfiction#Yandere!leon kennedy#yandere!Leon#yandere leon kennedy#yandere!Leon Kennedy x reader#resident evil#resident evil 4#resident evil 4 remake#re4r#re4r leon#Leon x reader#resident evil fanfiction#resident evil imagines#x reader#reader insert#guardian angel fic
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Am I still your good boy?
If I’ve done something terribly bad, am I still your good boy?
If I killed someone, am I still your good boy?
If I don’t care about others, am I still your good boy?
If I’m gonna fucking kill everybody here, am I still your good boy?
supportme
#chanif art#art#male yandere#yandere#fanart#my art#yandere art#leon s kennedy x reader#dark leon kennedy#leon imagine#plagas leon#leon x reader#resident evil leon#yandere leon#re4 leon#leon s kennedy#yandere leon kennedy#leon kennedy
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yandere! re2 leon kennedy x reader
✰ warnings: stalking, sub leon, slightly nsfw but not smut, leon is a creepy masochist, kidnapping, no use of y/n or name, gender neutral reader, not proofread bc it's 2 am for me rn
✰ summary: you were never very close to leon, but you harbored some feelings for him. but your entire view on him changes when you get invited to his place and you find out how he truly feels about you...
✰ a/n: remember when i used to be a havik account? good times. also i still *only* take reqs for mk1 characters. ik i wrote genshin and now i'm writing resident evil, but i am not entirely comfortable with taking reqs for them yet soooo here's me just dipping my toes into the waters of those fandoms. still sticking to mk1 tho. for now. also it's been a hot minute since i played re2 so if it's ooc i apologize.
leon thought you looked so pretty in your sleep. you looked completely peaceful and unbothered. your bedsheets covered your entire body except for your ethereal face, which he could stare at all day. the moon provided a dim glow through your window, giving leon a clear view of your entire bedroom while you slept. sure it may be creepy or a bit stalker-ish of leon to watch you sleep, but he couldn't help it! you were just so irresistible. if only you knew how much he loved you, and how he was capable of protecting and providing for you. he has the potential to be the best boyfriend to you. but you didn't even know him that well, and he was fully aware of that fact. so that's why he suddenly got an idea while he watched you sleep that night. it was a brilliant idea. he could invite you to his place and gain your trust! leon didn't want to waste any time, so he would immediately ask you first thing in the morning.
when you woke up that morning, you got a call from leon a few minutes after you got out of bed.
"i know it's a bit early in the morning, i hope you weren't sleeping... if so, i'm really sorry. i mean, i didn't know when to call you because i didn't want to bother you but at the same time i just really wanted to ask you something." leon rambled.
"no worries, leon. you could never bother me. besides, i just got out of bed. this was so perfectly timed, it's almost as if you memorized my sleep schedule." you joked.
"oh, yeah, that's crazy. imagine that," leon chuckled nervously. "um, anyway, i was just thinking... would you like to come over to my place later? i just thought that we know each other a little bit, but i'd like to get to know you more, since i think you're pretty cool and stuff, so, uh, yeah..." he trailed off, waiting for an answer.
upon hearing his proposal, you lit up in excitement. you always thought he was cute and wanted to get to know him, but you were too nervous to make the first move. this was a great opportunity.
leon was nervously fiddling with his fingers as he waited for your response. the longer you took to respond, the more his anxiety grew. he could feel the sweat forming on his skin and his chest tighten. what if you weren't interested in him in that way? was he being too forward? were you too busy?
you took a deep breath before you finally responded, mustering up the courage to say something. "i'll visit in a couple hours. i'll see you then, leon." you responded quickly, hanging up the phone and getting ready to see him.
leon's heart almost jumped out of his chest when you finally responded. he dropped his phone and immediately got to work, cleaning his place and hiding the pictures of you sleeping and your old clothes in a box under his couch.
he worked very hard to tidy everything up, wanting it to be perfect for you. only the best for you.
when he finished cleaning, he sat on the floor in front of his door like a puppy waiting for its owner. he patiently waited for you to knock on the door and come in, even though it would be a couple more hours until you arrived.
after a few hours of leon not moving a single inch, you finally arrived. as soon as your knuckles grazed the door to knock, leon swung it open with superhuman speed.
"thanks for coming! i hope the weather wasn't too harsh on you." leon greeted, stepping aside to let you in. he didn't actually know if the weather was harsh or not, he just said the first thing that came to his mind to start a conversation with you.
"thanks... and uh, the weather isn't bad at all. it's just a bit windy." you responded, awkwardly standing by the door.
leon was trying his hardest to act calm, but his heart was racing and he could feel his palms getting sweatier and sweatier. you were standing right next to him! and you were alone together! he could've just died right then and there. instead of watching you through your window, you're right in front of him! instead of breaking into your house and stealing and sniffing your clothes, he can just smell you right by him! he was in heaven.
for a couple hours, you both spent time together by watching movies and chatting, getting to know each other more and more. leon even ordered dinner for you both, and somehow he got your favorite food, and he claimed it was just intuition. it didn't even feel like hours had passed, since you were both enjoying yourselves.
"so, uh, do you like this movie?" leon awkwardly spoke up, as you both sat on the couch in front of his tv. you simply smiled and nodded, too tired to respond. it was a random film that you weren't familiar with, and you watched it in silence next to him. you were both clearly tired after that long day, but leon didn't want you to leave just yet. so he started awkwardly starting new conversations or asking you questions, hoping to keep your attention on him. he loved the amount of attention you already gave him that day, and he was still giddy that you agreed to visit him in the first place. all he needs to stay happy is for you to look at him. but you were literally sitting on his couch and spending time with him, and it just made him so overwhelmed with joy. it gave him hope that you could work as a couple someday, and you would never know about his unorthodox antics to get to this point.
or at least that's what he thought.
at some point, leon excused himself to the restroom and left you boredly swinging your legs back and forth on the couch. but you felt your leg kick something hard underneath the couch. when you decided to investigate, you found a hidden box. curious as to why it was hidden, you decided to open it and look inside.
big mistake.
you found some old clothes and underwear that you thought you lost, pieces of your hair, various pictures of you sleeping, a few grocery lists and paperwork that you thought you threw away, and even pages ripped out of leon's journal describing his dark fantasies of you. some of it had some mysterious white stains on it. it was disgusting, and it made you sick to look through it. you thought leon was just a cute sweetheart, but it turned out he was a stalker and a creep. you were so shocked, that you didn't know what to do. should you run? call someone? but it was unsafe, because he clearly knew your address and a lot of your personal information. you had no idea what to do, so you stayed frozen in shock.
when leon returned, he saw the horrified look on your face and saw the box in your hands. his heart dropped. you knew his secret.
"shit. oh my god, uh, it's not what you think. i swear, i just, uh, fuck..." leon stammered, dropping down to his knees in shame.
"what the fuck is this? how long have you been stalking me, you fucking creep?" you yelled, standing over his shaking form.
"haah.. i... uh.." leon seemed to be breathing weirdly, and you weren't sure if it was out of anxiety or pleasure.
"and this," you picked up one of the pages from his journal and waved it in front of his face. "what the fuck is this? you are so fucked up... are you in love with me or something? or is it just some weird ass sexual obsession?"
"i.. i do love you! of course i do! this isn't how i wanted you to find out, but i really do love you! please don't take it the wrong way. i don't want to hurt you, i just want to be with you. i want to feel you and- and spend every waking moment of my life with you.. please don't hate me." leon begged, grasping onto your leg pathetically.
"you're sick in the head. and you're nothing but a pathetic stalker." you scoffed. all the trust and affection you had for him went out the window after you opened that box. there was no way he can get your trust back. hell, you were willing to cut contact with him and move to another country at that point.
"fuck... okay, maybe i am.. but, uh... shit." leon struggled to get his words out, as he felt aroused by your degradation. he never thought it would feel so good to have you yell at him. he could barely even speak, it just felt euphoric for you to scold him for his actions. you expected him to panic, but he seemed to have mixed feelings about the situation. he was still horrified that you discovered his dirty secret, but he had stars in his eyes the more you screamed at him.
"oh my god... you're a masochistic freak, huh? you like it when i yell at you? god, you're so fucked up." you spat, grabbing his collar and lifting him up to your level.
leon whimpered at the sudden contact, not responding to your degredation and simply squirming at your touch.
you sighed. "are you going to explain yourself? or are you just going to keep babbling nonsense?"
after getting no response, you dropped him and started to grab your things and leave.
"i.. i love you so much!" leon blurted out. "please don't leave! i promise, i can make it up to you! i'll do whatever you want! i can uh... i can provide for you! you won't have to lift a single finger for the rest of your life! and uh... i can cook and clean! sort of. i'll learn how to take care of you. i'll show you that i can be a good boyfriend if you let me! please, just love me! i did all these things for you and i promise i will stop if you want me to! please, don't leave."
leon stood in front of the door and desperately held you in place, not wanting to let you leave.
if you chose to stay, leon would be overjoyed. he would keep his promise and make it up to you, spending the rest of his life protecting you from harm and doing anything to keep you happy. your well-being is his number one priority, he'd make himself look like a fool if it meant getting a smile out of you. just let him love you. you don't need to give him anything in return!
if you chose to leave, leon would be a sobbing, sulking mess for about an hour or two before he decided on what to do. he still had all of your information. he knew pretty much everything about you. he would probably do something to force you into being with him, such as faking your death and kidnapping you. you have nobody else now. you have to be with leon now. he is the only one that still loves you and will keep you happy. even if you're mad at him now, he has hope that someday you will warm up to him and be willing to have a relationship with him. he'll wait patiently for that day to come.
#resident evil#leon s kennedy#leon kennedy#re2 leon#yandere resident evil#yandere leon kennedy#yandere leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy x you#leon kennedy x y/n#resident evil 2#yandere#sub yandere#yandere x reader#yandere imagines#resident evil x reader#leon x reader
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ᥫ᭡ . # ۫ , ⸺ UNCHAINED MELODY, PART ONE !
summary :: surviving raccoon city together, you catch the affections of leon kennedy, ada wong, jill valentine, and carlos oliveira. six years later, you reunite with them and realize their obsession with you has increased tenfold.
chapters :: the masterlist.
word count :: 5.7k.
content warnings :: mdni!! yandere!leon, yandere!ada, yandere!jill, yandere!carlos, noncon touching, drugging, kidnapping, ptsd, violence, explosions, weapons, death, mild sexual themes, sexual harassment (done by some random npc), car crash, hospitals, reader breaks their arm.
──── Rain.
It's the first thing you are able to scrutinize once you come out of your state of comatose. You listen to the tumultuous melody as the droplets batter against the roof of the car. Even with your eyes locked tight, you are able to figure out where you are just by the rumble of the car engine, jostling you around when the tires hit a crevice in the road. A fuzzy, knitted blanket is adorned around your body. Your headphones are set on top of your head, a playlist of your favorite songs playing on a low volume. The sounds come out distorted, somehow, as if the lyrics were tripping over themselves and the tunes were awkwardly dancing with one another. It's almost as if you had been drugged.
The right side of your face is squished against something, which you now perceive as somebody's neck. The surface pushes your headphones uncomfortably into the side of your head. In a fruitless attempt to take them off, you realize you are paralyzed from head to toe. An arm is draped around your shoulder, the other firmly around your legs which are draped among their lap. Whomever this stranger is, they are quite brawny as they tighten their thick arms around you. They press gentle kisses to your forehead, the stubble of their beard tickling your skin. A deep voice whispers sugary affirmations against your temple, but you are unable to dissect them through the warped music and white noise. Have I been kidnapped? Who the fuck is this person?
With what little strength you have left in your body, you are able to peel your eyes open just a crack. You find yourself in the middle of the backseat (the safest spot in the car, which was certainly done on purpose). You find the arms draped around you are tan, adorned in heaps of black hair. Casting your gaze forward, you look to the driver. You see a woman with short, dirty-blonde hair whose slender fingers grasp hold of the steering wheel. The identity of these two people remains unknown to you. Looking at the windows, the rain cascading down the glass prevents you from pinpointing any potential landmarks. The only thing you can do is slump against this stranger and let yourself be driven far, far away.
You rewind into the past to collect any memories that would help decipher the current events. All you are able to garner is a crisp October evening, where you snuggled beneath a blanket in the safe expanse of your bedroom. You remember wrapping the blanket around your shoulders and strolling into the kitchen, where you would then make yourself a hot cup of tea. This was your normal night routine, you recall in defeat. The last memory you had would be of no use, considering the large gap in your mind once you drank the first sip of tea. So, you rewind even further to see if anything abnormal had occurred during the day.
You remember how you had spent your morning journaling in the garden, analyzing the faces of other patients and doctors wandering through your memory. Nothing stuck out, however, so you abandoned your reminiscing of this past morning. You then think back to group therapy at noon, where others would express their traumas from Raccoon City six years prior. You would tell your own story of the agony you endured and how you met several people who had protected you with their lives. Leon Kennedy, Ada Wong, Jill Valentine, and Carlos Oliveira — four names you would never forget.
Then, you would express the grief you felt when you were told none of them had survived the night. You had never felt so alone after. But, fortunately, you were then taken under the wing of this sanctuary built just for survivors. You have stayed in their habitation since.
The faces of those listening to your story were people you have seen every day; none of their features matched the physicality of the people in this car. With that, you fast forward further into the afternoon to find anything that sticks out. The heightened security that seemed to be reserved for you made you furrow your brow. However, it was nothing explicit enough to explain your current circumstances. Several guards stood outside your room as you lost yourself in the book you checked out from the sanctuary's library. The headphones you wore blared your favorite music and tuned out any and all outside noise. Even the hushed noises straight from your kitchen.
The hours of the afternoon faded away while you read through your book. It wasn't until a friend had come to your door to remind you of your plans to go stargazing did you realize the sun had begun to set. As they left, you decided to brew yourself some tea before you would join the others outside. You remember sitting at your frail kitchen table, blanket adorning your shoulders like a cape as you watched the tea kettle on the stove. Silence pervades and you can't help letting your mind wander. It has been six full years since the incident in Raccoon City. Still, your brain always seems to saunter back to the memories of that night.
You think of Leon Kennedy that night. You remember those pale blue eyes, freckled innocence, puppy-soft hair; you remember how he had saved your life that night in Raccoon City. Working at the Mizoil Gas Station, sitting right on the outskirts of the city, you're bound to face your fair share of weird regulars. And Leon Kennedy, by far, was the weirdest. A week before the night that sent your life into a tornado, you had met the new rookie who just arrived in town. And for seven days, you would always spot that familiar green jeep outside your workplace. His relentless appearances made you worry he had a hole in his gas tank or something. However, his visits weren't to grab gas or a quick snack for the road, it was to awkwardly lean against the counter and pathetically try to win your heart.
"Oh, hey Y/N! Funny running into you here..." The twelve visits a day spoil his attempts at being suave. "Yeah. I work here, Leon." His name sounds like nectar on your tongue, to a point where he is on the verge of outright begging you to say it. Even once more.
You then think of how during your closing shift, a coworker had become something ghastly, something monstrous. It all just happened so fast. You think of how you shielded yourself in your cramped work locker, limbs jutting out against the uncomfortable metal walls. To this day, you can still feel the suffocating tightness in your chest from holding back your sobs. All while you helplessly listened to the horrific sounds of your coworkers and customers being torn apart. You're entirely shaken with trauma, but with your brain in survival mode, you know this was no time to rest. Who knows how many more of those things will arrive? Now was your only shot at escaping this hellhole. So, you begrudgingly peel open the locker door and carefully inspect your surroundings. You grab a six-pack of beer on the desk beside you and take one of the bottles out. It was your only available weapon against your zombified coworkers, after all.
Blood paints your sneakers red and cheap beer stains your uniform as you fight your way out of the station. The sight of the entrance feels like a light at the end of the tunnel. Your lungs tighten with exhaustion as you continue to run towards it. That is until a firm grasp on your wrist halts your intentions. Swinging the bottle towards the assailant, they block it with ease and disarm you. It wasn't until a stuttering, concerned voice gasps your name do you realize that you almost just stabbed Leon Kennedy in the face. But God, you never thought you would be so happy for the persistent neediness of this cop.
You don't even know what had overcome you, but the sight of something human fills you with so much relief, you engulf the man into a hug. It lasted a mere second, but it was more than enough to get Leon's heart thumping in his chest. Even in the face of death, a smile tugs at his lips with any crumb of affection he can extrapolate from you. Muttering an apology to him, Leon disregards it entirely and stares at you with that dumb, love-struck expression. Your drop-dead gorgeous self; your witty comebacks that have his ribs tough with laughter… You, of all people, initiated affection with him, you actually wanted to touch him!
The roar of something inhuman cuts Leon off, to where he then bends down and scoops you into his arms. Without a second to resist, Leon (who is far too elated for comfort) sprints through the door with you and books it to his jeep. You're too busy staring at the store in trepidation to stop Leon from opening the car door for you, placing you in the passenger seat, and fastening your seatbelt for you. Almost as if you were a child, incapable of using your own hands.
The car ride to the Raccoon Police Department is quiet. Other than a few hushed reassurances of comfort from Leon, a heavy silence sits between the two of you. It's so bewildering that the people you had spent every day with are all dead. Not even dead, but zombie-fied creatures groaning to tear your flesh asunder. Your brain drifts to one coworker, in particular. One who was a master at getting under your skin. Manipulating your time alone to ask you out to dinner for the umpteenth time while tracing his hands over your skin. You never agreed, but with every attempt to bring this problem to your manager, it was always swept under the rug. And at last, you would have to endure the eerie smile and roaming hands of this middle-aged creep.
But now, things are different. You think about how he is now dead and can never touch you again; you think of how sickeningly good it felt to drive the rear end of a half-shattered bottle into his skull. Looking at your hands, you find your palms caked with his blood. Leon takes notice of this, taking one hand off the wheel and using it to grasp your hand into his. Electricity tickles through him from the contact. "You didn't have a choice" he assures in that soft tone reserved for you, but he is wrong. You did have a choice, and in the end, you wanted to hurt him.
"I wanted to. I wanted to kill him." Your gaze is locked on your red hands as you confess; Leon's gaze is fixated on you. "I just couldn't put up with him anymore. I finally got to fucking get back at him for once, to take advantage of him while he was weak." You don't even notice the tears streaming down your emotionally-drained expression.
You especially don't notice the sheer affect your words have on Leon. Tense jaw, flared nostrils, chest rising up and down with short breaths. What the fuck did he do to you? What had he done to push you, the angel of Leon's life, to such violent measures? He imagines his disgusting hands, dirtying your heavenly form; he imagines your face scrunched up with dismay, tears brimming in your eyes. And it absolutely destroys him. His heavy stare remains locked on you, entirely oblivious to any outside sources. No zombies, no eight-foot-tall tyrants — all that mattered was the audacity this dead man had to put his hands on you. And god, it makes him red with rage.
"Leon- LEON-!!" You shout out to warn him before the jeep then collides into a car wreck. It is pure mayhem as you shield your head with your hands and prepare for your demise. Leon’s arm stretches out over you in a desperate attempt to protect you. How ironic that in the face of a zombie apocalypse, you would die because of someone's poor driving skills.
You reluctantly open your eyes; you're alive. With your ears ringing out and your vision fuzzy, you manage to wrestle your way out of the jeep that had been flipped upside down. A grunt escapes from your chest as you make contact with the pavement. Something wet trickles down your head and from your nose, which doesn't take much for you to perceive as blood. You are so disoriented, you entirely forget about the man who was driving you just moments before. So disoriented, in fact, you don't hear the weak whimpers of your name from Leon as he watches you stumble further and further and further away from him.
You think of Ada Wong that night. You remember the click of her heels, her expensive perfume, her manicured nails; you remember how she had saved your life that night in Raccoon City. Somehow in your bewildered state, you had found yourself in one of the holding cells of RPD. You had collapsed against a metal bench, catching sight of a blood-stained first aid kit just within reach. You then tend to your wounds with feeble efforts. Soon, your senses clear, to where horrifying screams of agony echo through the large expanse. An unseen force rattles the room, and chunks of wall soar through the air from the cell beside you. There's a pop! before a deafening silence settles in the room.
All that is left in the air is your rapid breathing, waiting for your inescapable demise to embrace you. But, there is simply nothing to greet you but you and your thoughts. The gentle tap of quiet footsteps fills the permeating quiet. A woman then enters your train of vision, dressed in a trench coat, sunglasses, and stiletto heels. She stops in her tracks upon seeing you, seemingly inspecting you from behind her eyewear. With a tilt of her head, the woman steps through the threshold of your cell, where you then bundle yourself in the corner of the room. And you are just so adorable how you cave into yourself, almost like a bunny. So frail and terrified; too damn cute.
The way she walks to you is as if she were on a catwalk. Your trauma-ridden body trembles in fear with every step she takes closer. When she is just within reach, you act on instinct and push her away from you, racing past her and out of the cell. She barely stumbles from your attempt at an attack, an amused chuckle vibrating from her chest. You get a good several steps away before you finally discover what had made such a booming noise before. A man lies dead on the ground in the locked cell beside yours with a punctured hole in the wall. His dry mouth is hung agape and his body sits lifeless. Both eyes have been popped out of their sockets, blood seeping down his face and to the ground below. The woman follows you in your footsteps as you stare in horror. She merely tuts at the sight, a sigh of disappointment filling the empty air. How in the world is she not as terrified as you are?
"Come with me." Her voice is feminine, oozing with sultry confidence. It's soothing to listen to.
"Why?" Meanwhile, your voice is nothing like hers. Your speech comes out shaky and quiet, adorned in the fear this woman was apparently immune to.
"Well, you wouldn't want to end up like Ben, would you?" Your silence serves as your unspoken agreement. "Come now." In addition to her poised nature, her voice is also flat with demanding dominance. You find yourself blindly following her as she struts away.
Accompanying this woman as she walks through the police department as if she were the headline of a fashion show, you soon make it to the grimy streets of the city. During that time, she had introduced herself to you as Ada Wong, a spy working to retrieve the G-Virus. Why is she telling you the whole truth about herself, she doesn't know. Why did she make you follow her when she knows she works better alone, she doesn't know, either. There's just something about the way you cower into her when a zombie growls and the way your eyes glimmer with gratitude when she annihilates the monsters in your path. It makes her feel worthy, for something other than violence or money. As if she were the big, bad wolf who had fallen for the helpless bunny rabbit.
Now standing at the end of the street before the sewer entrance, you stare below in apprehension for what you have now learned lies within. This whole time, all the secrets Umbrella have were hidden right beneath your nose. Or better yet, right beneath your feet. A tank truck lies on its side several feet away from you and behind it, a trail of fire travels closer and closer. The flames and oil mending together then causes an explosion to erupt. Before you even had a chance to process anything, you're in the air, where you land in a patch of grass with a loud crack. Permeating pain courses through your right arm. From the time you had broken your wrist in 5th grade from attempting to climb a tree, you can tell your arm has suffered the same fate.
A leather-gloved hand then places itself onto your cheek. You look to see Ada, now with no glasses, tousled hair, and her coat discolored from grass stains. A dandelion had managed to wrangle itself with one of the dark-colored strands on her head. Playfully, you pluck the dandelion from her hair and gift it to her. Then, you make some joking remark about how it's a "thanks for the save earlier" with a weak chuckle. Your hand touches hers and something flutters within Ada's stomach — something grand, something scary. Something... warm. It stuns her into silence and catches her entirely off guard.
Her gaze shifts to your lips. Despite how chapped and dry they are, your bottom lip seeping with blood after the tough fall, they couldn't look any more appetizing to Ada. The mere idea of pressing her lips to yours causes her to relentlessly fall further and further into this unfamiliar, twitter-pated oblivion. You are just so benevolent, softhearted, and so, so bright. Ada's head is so fogged up with all sorts of devoted insanity, she doesn't take notice of the mass of zombies treading closer. While Ada is crouching beside you, she is then tackled to the ground. A pandemonium of zombies roaring ensues, and you're attacked by the undead, as well. With a hard kick to the skull of your assailant, you're able to wrangle yourself out of their grip on your leg. You stand to your feet and search for Ada to no avail, the heaps of zombies restraining you from any clarity.
With that, you turn tail and slam open the doors of the closest shelter you could find: Gun Shop Kendo.
You think of Jill Valentine that night. You remember her calloused hands, her rough-edged attitude, her scent of gunpowder; you remember how she had saved your life that night in Raccoon City. When you enter the gun shop, you're met with a man and a woman, both disheveled with dirt and blood. They point their guns at you upon your rushed entrance and in response, you raise your hands to surrender. The pummeling on the doors then has you all racing to barricade the entrance, using abandoned shelves and boxes as impromptu defenses. With heavy panting and a hefty barrier, the three of you stand, exasperated, trying to catch your breath. You sink to the floor and hold your arm, flashes of agony pumping through the broken limb.
Despite the danger just outside and your arm overcome with pain, this is the best you'll get in your current state. Shelter and weapons. You'll just have to endure how the shop owner shoved the barrel of his gun in your face and how the cop beside him sees you as gum beneath her shoe. Jill treats you like she does everyone else: ice-cold and blunt. She doesn't say a word to you; she barely acknowledges your presence. For that, you assume she hates your guts. Considering the circumstances, however, you don't take it to heart. Instead, you thank the two for allowing you to stay in the shop while the storm of zombies outside dies down.
However, things are quite different on Jill's end. The simple way you exist — it stuns her. Throughout her entire life, this dull ache has resided in her chest. She feels nothing. She would try and garner any feeling whatsoever; she'd do something adrenaline-inducing to feel fear, she'd do something ignorant to feel guilt. She would do everything to fill this hollow void within her. But, her incessant efforts were all brought to no avail.
That is until you came along.
Even though you're just some helpless civilian with no other desires than temporary protection, something foreign pervades her brain. Jill has come to realize you are far more than just the pretty face on the surface (although the idea of others witnessing your beauty causes her stomach to churn). She then tends to your broken arm, acting as if her heart wasn't running a mile a minute from the close contact. Meanwhile, lust-driven fantasies that would make even a harlot blush muddle her brain. To have you beneath her, staring up at her like that. You can't expect her to not swoon at the mere thought of how you'd taste, how you'd sound, how you'd tremble from her touch. Her mouth waters at the mental image alone.
Without thinking, Jill leans in to kiss you, fully ready to take you here on the floor of this filthy gun shop. The cock of Kendo's gun brings her out of her haze. You, on the other hand, assume this woman views you as nothing but a burden despite the clear display of infatuation in front of you. She informs you with a flat tone how survivors would be taken to the subway station, where they would then be transported out of the city. You thank her again for her hospitality, but mostly out of culpability. With your arm now covered with swiftly-made bandages, you reach with the other for an abandoned gun. Now that you've accepted the assumption this woman doesn't want a thing to do with you, the only way you'll get out of Raccoon City is by yourself. However, she blocks your attempt with a gentle grasp of your wrist.
"No need." Her voice is rough, but beneath the facade, it is timid and fearful.
"Why not?"
"You have me. I won't let anything happen to you." You stare at her, completely flabbergasted at the sudden alter in attitude.
The journey to the subway station was a breeze, to say the least. With your new bodyguard there to obliterate any danger in your path, it was practically a stroll in the park. She tells you her name and you tell her yours. Y/N Valentine has kind of a ring to it, Jill thinks. But with only just a few blocks to cross, something large, something beastly, something entirely inhuman stops you in your tracks. Incredibly massive with its large teeth protruding from its mouth, it groans a deep "S.T.A.R.S" before it begins to stomp towards you. Terror submerges your senses and immobilizes you. A red laser points from the rocket launcher in its hands, the dot sitting right by your feet. Jill then grabs hold of your hand and tries to run off with you, but her futile attempts were too late. A rocket then strikes the pavement and its force sends the two of you into the air. Your bandaged arm lands first against the unforgiving ground, anguish permeating your entire body.
You think of Carlos Oliveira that night. You remember his gruff voice, his kind heart, his dirt-caked skin; you remember how he had saved your life that night in Raccoon City. The pain in your arm is so blinding, there is nothing else you can think about. Not Jill, not Ada, not Leon, not the myriad of monstrous creatures on your tail. The only thing that exists right now is the torturous misery coursing through you. You're writhing on the cold pavement as you cling to your arm, cries of distress and exhaustion trembling from your chest. God, when will this nightmare fucking end?
The gut-wrenching entrance you're in is broken when you feel a hand on your shoulder. You expect to find Jill and her stone-cold, yet concerned expression, only to turn over your shoulder and see a complete stranger. He has a head full of messy, dark hair, with loose strands shielding his face; a strong body, with his military vest filled with heavy weaponry. His expression, however, was the most memorable. God, he looks at you as if you've hung the moon. His appearance is unkempt and dirty, but still overwhelmed with cheesy rom-com levels of infatuation. Why is this stranger looking at you as if you were walking down the aisle on your wedding day? You don't know. Besides, there are far more important matters to concern yourself with.
The heavy slam of Jill's boots reverberates as she sprints over to you. She helps you to your feet, not without a quick glare at the man beside you that reads "don't you fucking touch them." Jill puts your intact arm around her and leads you into Moon's Donuts, all while the deafening sounds of gunfire and grisly roars echo from behind. You don't dare turn around; you couldn't bear to look at that abomination once more. The quiet hum of heavy rock welcomes you as you enter the deserted donut shop. You practically collapse into one of the booths, Jill following behind and sitting across from you. With an exhale of relief, you relax into the seat and hold your arm in an attempt for temporary comfort. The man from before enters shortly, as well, then barricades the entrance with ease.
Your bandages are now torn and peeling. In an effort to fix it yourself, that same agonizing pain satiates through your arm instead. You hiss in response, alerting the two others. The man leans down before you, introducing himself as Carlos Oliveira, then eagerly asking you to inform him of your name. You oblige and he visibly shivers when your skin makes contact with his, an expressed concoction of nerves and irrepressible obsession. Upon gingerly grasping hold of your arm, he uses medical equipment from the various pockets around his chest and tends to you. His touch is careful, delicate — as if you would drift away if he applied any pressure. With every whimper and groan of pain from you, shocks are sent straight to his heart. Carlos had just met you moments ago yet still, he can't fathom the idea of you in pain. He assumes it's merely empathy, but when he feels tears brim in his eyes at the sight of you suffering, he knows this isn't normal.
With Jill's hand on your shoulder, consoling you through the pain, Carlos finishes swiftly before reluctantly breaking physical contact with you. He then gives you his canteen bottle, allowing you some water after your exhausting efforts to survive. You down the water like you've been parched for years. In the process, you are entirely oblivious to the heavy breathing from Carlos, who is left stunned at the prospect of an indirect kiss. Your lips against his — he feels his cheeks heat up from the idea alone. He doesn't realize how totally deranged he looks in his lovesick hysteria before the sharp snap of Jill's fingers brings him back to reality. Her possessive stare, her physical affection with you. Carlos feels his world crumble at the revelation that falls: you belong to Jill. The partner of his dreams is sitting right in front of him, but at the same time, is entirely out of reach. And it shatters him.
With that being said, Carlos isn't always the most articulate with his attempts at garnering information, hence why he stuck to the guns. So, as Jill and Carlos guard you like feral dogs with a bone while you travel back to the subway, he lets his facade slip.
"So... Are you two-like... Are you guys-um? Like, together?" Smooth as silk, Carlos. Smooth as silk.
Jill rolls her eyes in response. Mostly due to how annoying she thought him to be, but especially due to the fact that you aren't actually hers. Meanwhile, you tilt your head in confusion like a lost puppy (and you miss the way they visibly melt from the sight). After another fit of relentless stammering from Carlos, Jill finally clears the air.
"No, we're not dating." It hurts her to say it, evident in the way she clenches her jaw in an attempt to suppress her protruding emotions. Meanwhile, Carlos is sent to cloud nine.
Despite the blood, death, and gore he had witnessed in a single night, he had never felt so elated in all his years alive. Jill scoffs at his thinly-veiled euphoria, before grasping your hand and treading forward. Through trial and error (and more zombies than you could count), the three of you finally make it back to the subway station. You could cry, it's almost over. However, you can't help but notice how Jill and Carlos are perceptibly devastated by the idea of letting you go.
You hug Jill. It was nothing intimate, merely a thanks for the help she had provided you. Still, her body goes rigid and her heart flourishes with every kind of emotion she has never felt before. Through all the revelations that have taken place in this hellhole of a night, none of it compared to the earth-shattering emotions you have given her. Fear, lust, jealousy, devotion — it's all so overwhelming and she loves it.
You hug Carlos next. Again, nothing intimate or ulterior about the act of affection. But just like Jill, his heart practically detonates from the close contact. If only you could see his love-struck face; his expression is practically straight out of a cartoon. Cupid's bow through his chest, bluebirds swarming around his head and all. When the friendly hug soon started to turn into a romantic embrace, you push yourself off of Carlos, excusing his actions as nothing short of post-traumatic nerves.
With that, you join the other civilians on the train. The subway doors close behind you as you look at the survivors around you. All of them are riddled with trauma, shaken and silently weeping from the sights they have witnessed. Despite the harrowing circumstances, you're alive. That is all that matters and you could not be more grateful. Sitting on an empty seat, an exhale of relief escapes your chest. The train whirs as it begins to move. You turn your shoulder and look through the filth-stained windows to find Jill and Carlos, eyes blown wide with emotion as they watch you leave them. They stand in the same place you had left them, gazing wistfully at the love of their life. Picking up speed, you are soon out of their sight and they are now without the one they love most. And the sheer affect it has on them is gut-wrenching.
Fortunately for you, the ride out of the city is plain sailing. And with no S.T.A.R.S. members on the train, there is no 8-foot-tall creature there to set everything ablaze. You have now become one of the very few people who can say they made it out of Raccoon City alive.
You think of Raccoon City the morning after and the consequences that came from surviving. You think about what Carlos had said to you in the midst of danger. "I'm not gonna die on you and leave you in a cold, cruel, Carlos-less world." Liar.
Upon escaping the city safely, you and the other survivors were sent to a local hospital. From thereon, you would spend the next several days there (and finally receive proper treatment for your broken arm). After several days of anxiously anticipating the well-being of your friends and the entirety of Raccoon City, a doctor you had never seen before enters your room in the dead of night. Introducing himself as Dr. Matt Gorkis, he then reveals the news of the missile strike sent to the city and how there were no other survivors. A wave of devastation and helplessness washes over you. Weeping softly, the doctor bluntly provides details of the matter.
He then informs you of a sanctuary being built just for survivors of the incident. There will be provided shelter, basic necessities, and all sorts of therapeutic activities that will help you during your healing journey. And with your job, your home, and all of your friends eradicated to dust, you know you have no other choice. With another month of being tested for infections and going through physical therapy, you are released from the hospital and sent away with the doctor. For the past six years, this sanctuary is what you have learned to call home.
The hissing of the tea kettle makes you jump, bringing an abrupt halt to your road trip down memory lane. And while you pour yourself a cup of tea, you realize that your memories will be of no use for your current circumstances. For now, you'll have to let yourself be lulled to sleep in the back of this stranger's vehicle, driven far away to god-knows-where. But, the embrace the person has on you is so warm, so inviting. Your body can’t help but succumb to the relaxation this stranger provides.
You just hope that when you wake up, whatever welcomes you isn't anything reminiscent of the nightmare you faced six years ago.
⁺ 🎧 , 🪷 ۫ you are currently listening to . . . ⁺ 🪺 , 🎵 ꪆ
❝ MY LOVE, MY DARLING
I'VE HUNGERED FOR YOUR TOUCH . . . ❞
not a single person had asked for this, but it has been all my brain has been able to think about. i hope u all can appreciate some breadcrumbs from the ramblings of my heart hehe.
#resident evil#leon kennedy#ada wong#jill valentine#carlos oliveira#resident evil x reader#leon kennedy x reader#ada wong x reader#jill valentine x reader#carlos oliveira x reader#resident evil imagine#leon kennedy imagine#ada wong imagine#jill valentine imagine#carlos oliveira imagine#yandere leon kennedy#yandere ada wong#yandere jill valentine#yandere carlos oliveira#moonfairy#yandere resident evil#yandere#gn reader#gender neutral reader#Spotify
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"What's your favourite scary movie?"
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#leon kennedy#leon x reader#yandere leon kennedy#yandere#resident evil#leon s kennedy#leon kennedy x reader#ghostface#ghostface x reader#ghost face#yandere leon kennedy x reader#ghostface leon kennedy
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Together Forever Pt.1
Warning: Kidnapping, age difference, Leon!ID, affectionate nicknames, surveillance, forced cohabitation.
Synopsis: Working in D.S.O as an ordinary archivist did not promise to be too difficult. At least you didn't have to risk your life or supply the agents with information, you just took care of the valuable data received by the agents, putting everything in order. Everything would be fine… until someone decided that you needed protection from this fucking world full of zombies and other biological weapons.
Note: something like trial of the pen. I think there will be two or three parts, but this is the first time I'm writing something with a sequel (not counting those three texts about a Reader from college). I'm not sure it's going to be good, but I'll try. And yes, I don't approve of this shit in real life. Everything that is written here is strictly FICTION and you do not need to take it literally. If you have any triggers or dislike then skip it.
Part 2
Part 3
It was outrageously easy. Not that Leon thought that your forced "move" to him would be too difficult, but it was even easier than he imagined. His little archivist was still sleeping soundly in the backseat of his car under a strong dose of the drug so that you wouldn't resist when he drove you to his country house. It's okay, Leon just understands that you will need time to get used to your new good life, but he understood that it would be stressful. Therefore, your forced immersion in a sound sleep is just a precautionary measure so that you do not harm yourself by your own stupidity while he was putting you in an SUV. After all, you could have hit your head, cut yourself, or he could have accidentally bruised you when he stuffed you in, but he foresaw all this in advance and now his sweet girl is just sleeping while they go to the new house that Leon has already prepared.
But there will be no special consequences. Leon looks in the rearview mirror, which was specially lowered a little down so that he could observe your condition in case of anything, although there was no excitement. He just drove the car along an empty road, only occasionally there were cars driving straight back to the city. Outside there was only the forest and silence, but another hour of travel and he will settle you in a cozy warm house. A shared bedroom with warm blankets and soft pillows is already ready there. In the trunk he has three large boxes of boxes of your books that he collected in advance in the afternoon when you just left the apartment and some clothes for the first time, but Leon thought it needed to be washed, so it's okay that you sleep in his clothes…then he will buy you a lot of new things. In general, he will buy his baby whatever she wants…the thought made his lips lift in a slight smile.
He accurately calculated the dose of sleeping pills based on your weight, so the drug acted quickly but relatively safely. At least the feeling of nausea, dizziness and disorientation will haunt you for a while until the drug is removed from your body, but that's okay! Leon intended to look after you and take care of you until you finally come to your senses.
When the well-guarded and well-maintained with all the needs for housing finally appeared a few meters away, Leon turned off the engine as soon as he parked the car in the garage where, in addition to various tools with which he repaired his bike, there was also a collection of pistols. He opened the back door and carefully, like a porcelain vase, carefully carried it into the bedroom in his arms. Your head was leaning against his chest and while Leon was carrying you up the stairs, he could not resist the desire to kiss you at least on the forehead. Although it was uncomfortable, his lips touched only the top of your head, forcing you to squirm in his arms, causing an even bigger grin.
Leon opened the bedroom door, got to the bed in just a couple of steps, put you on the soft pillows and reached out to the bedside table, flicking his index finger on the small switch, turning on the lamp. A dim yellow light illuminated a small space, falling mostly on your placid sleeping face. Just like a real sleeping beauty… Leon stroked your cheek with his palm for some time, just admiring you and scrolling in his head how cruel this world is to such an innocent beauty. He saved Ashley, but for some reason she couldn't hook him like you, and Ada… well, it's interesting to solve this riddle woman for a while, but in the end the brain gets tired of the unsolvable task. He is a government agent and people with his profession value the usual stability more than anything else, for which they are ready to give all the money they earn. And you are his little archivist, who spent hours sitting in a dusty archive, sorting through folders with old reports and other documents. Even if you read something from this, you still don’t understand how dangerous it is outside, but he will protect you and you will love him. Necessarily.
However, now it was important for Leon to take care of his baby…
He wanted you to feel as little discomfort as possible after waking up, so getting up from the bed he found some old but clean things in the closet and going back to the bed began to change his little angel. Leon carefully unlaced and pulled your boots off your feet, placing them neatly next to you to put away later. Your jacket, skirt and even blouse followed by a bra. He could not help but hold an enthusiastic glance on your beautiful breasts, his palm gently slid over them, seeing how your nipples harden from the cold air soaring around the room and from this magnificent spectacle it became tight in his pants.
Your flawless appearance alone drove him crazy, causing an unbearable desire to undress himself and just lie down next to you, hugging, feeling your hands on his back. But he drove away the voluptuous obsession by taking his shirt in his hands, gently lifting your body to put your hands into the sleeves and fasten the top buttons, as if you were a doll that needed to be changed…who knows, maybe it will even become his favorite activity? In the end, somehow you got into the blood like smoke, penetrating deeper and deeper that it became impossible to get you out of his head.
Like a parasite, Las Plagas captured all thoughts without giving a single chance to escape, and if at first these feelings were frightening, then after watching you became an integral part of his life for six months. Leon convinced himself that he was taking care of you as he is now, laying you under a warm blanket with pillows so that you lay a little on your side if you suddenly start vomiting because of the drug and it's impossible not to touch your cheek with your lips at least once.
But you didn't wake up. And Leon still gave another kiss on the forehead, clasping your face with his hands, inhaling the fragrance of the desired body. His little songbird.
"You'll feel so good here with me. I promise."
He whispered and it was as if she heard something through a deep sleep, making him smile from the way your eyelids tremble in your sleep while he strokes you on the shoulder.
But while Leon left you to rest, going down to the first floor to unpack boxes of things and books that he took from your unsafe apartment. The door to the bedroom remained unlocked and even slightly ajar so that he could hear how you wake up.
💙💙💙💙💙💙💙
Of course, Leon never had a plan to kidnap anyone, but after all the traumatic events, some paranoia and … the horror that Jason was talking about begins.
As soon as the president's plane disappeared into the sky, Patrick talked incessantly about a pretty young archivist girl to whom he constantly turns up during breaks to treat coffee or a sweet bun to relieve boredom, but Leon always listened with half an ear when circumstances did not force him to go down to the archive and meet you there.
"Can I help?" your voice rang out among these endless folders with documents and boxes on dusty shelves from which his nose itched all the time. Leon tried to determine your location, but perfectly developed reflexes did everything for him when he abruptly turned around seeing you behind his back in a cute skirt, white blouse and jacket. From here, the alarm quickly subsided when he realized that there was no danger.
Perhaps he stared at you a little longer than he should, looking at every small detail on your face, forcing you to sigh impatiently and repeat your question. The agents rarely went down themselves, but mostly they just sent the archive a request and a deadline by which to provide the necessary information, often in digital form.
It was the first red flag and the first wave of feelings that came to him when you first met.
"So?…" you wanted to repeat the question for the third time, but he still spoke.
"Yeah…I need a report. Spain 2004. Los Illuminados" Memories rolled over him like an unpleasant wave, but you just nodded your head as you walked past him, carefully picking up a bunch of boxes, maneuvering between them so perfectly.
Leon only needed this report because of another outbreak in Africa. Not to him, but to his colleagues, however, it was faster to go down himself than to send a stupid request that is still unknown when they will see and process.
"I'm sorry for the mess, we have a little rearrangement and cleaning at the same time. What kind of report is needed? I'll look at the database" you stared at him with such cute eyes that he smiled at you, however, after taking a step, he stumbled over one of these damn boxes, after which you immediately flew up to him grabbing his forearm to help him get up. Not that he needed help, but it was nice.
"Are you hurt?" you asked quickly, to which Leon chuckled merrily. "God, I'm sorry, the last archivist made such a terrible mess here and they made me clean everything up alone. Do you need a Band-Aid?"
"No. It's all right, really, but it's nice of you," Leon dusted off his hands and you stared at his palms as if checking whether he really hurt himself. "But it's better to clean up everything here. It will be sad if such a cutie falls just like me"
You smiled at his compliment, not offended like the others. It touched his heart pleasantly.
"So what kind of report exactly is needed? I'll file it in a week."
"The Kennedy Report. The original." Leon said quickly, carefully catching the information on your face, however…nothing. Perhaps you haven't even touched it yet and haven't even heard anything about those events. Patrick said that you are very young and have only recently come here, so it would not be surprising.
"Okay, it will definitely take some time, but everything will be ideally as it should be. Is it urgent?"
"You have all the time in the world"
He doesn't remember how long it took before you finally pulled out a dusty folder from some box with other reports and handed it to him personally. It's funny that even when you found out that he is the same Kennedy, you practically did not react at all.
You dusted it off and sneezed yourself, so Leon could only hope you didn't have asthma or something. But something else was important because since then you have not left his thoughts.
Patrick told him about your favorite coffee and buns... More precisely, Leon himself saw that he constantly brings you to the archive during lunch. This helped him bond with you, so he started bringing you lunch and even helping with those huge heavy boxes. It's almost indecent that you weren't even given an assistant to put everything in order. And then soft unobtrusive touches began. Passing a cup of coffee, he could accidentally touch your fingers; you let him hold you by the waist as you walked down the stairs. It was easy for Leon to help you, and he even liked that you were like a little doll in his strong arms. It seemed like one careless move and he would accidentally break you.
At some point he was suddenly afraid that you might fall and get hurt or accidentally spill coffee on yourself or one of the many boxes would easily fall on you. There were so many dangers lurking at every corner and he could not always be there to save you. However, that didn't mean that he couldn't not take care of you. Unfortunately, you absolutely lacked care for your personal belongings, but Leon hacked your phone only for security reasons. In principle, there was nothing terrible, except for those moments when some narrow-minded friends invite his dear angel to some noisy clubs or meetings late at night. It wasn't good!
And Leon was most angry when you came home late at night, not worrying about what kind of bastards might harm you. God, you literally put your own life at risk, so of course he had to protect his beloved in every way possible, even if it meant locking you at home.
It was easy to find out the address, insurance number and other documents. D.S.O carefully checks all the details of the new employees, but fortunately everything was in order. And it didn't take much effort for Leon to find all the necessary information, although it took a lot of time to prepare for your forced move to him. Leon has fully equipped his country house, protecting all the sharp corners so that you don't hit. It bought a lot of soft pillows and warm blankets just for you, terry towels, favorite cosmetic products for skin care...Yes, breaking into your apartment also turned out to be a trivial matter. The problem was only that Leon was worried that you might be bored, so after looking at a bookshelf full of various books, he decided that it was worth taking them all with him along with the things from the closet. Well, your game console, too.
the preparation took about three weeks, considering that he also had some working moments that he could not ignore in any way. After all, he should be able to provide you with complete material well-being, because Leon intended to take care of his cute doll with all the love he was capable of. The only catch is that, despite the fact that you liked him, you always kept him at arm's length, just like Patrick, promising yourself no novels in the workplace. Especially with agents who can hurt your heart and soul for fun. That's why you refused Leon even a simple dinner, but this refusal only made him feel touched by you, showing how innocent you are, convincing him that, of course, you should be under his protection.
You thought he was nice and circumspect, but you, but how could you know that he hooked up a tracking device to your phone to know where you are always? Leon was a professional agent of the president himself, but he always looked after you in the car while you were walking to your house after work.
And yet you didn't let him get close to you. Therefore, when Leon realized that it would not work out in a good way, he moved to radical measures by preparing a syringe.
One move and grabbing you with one hand, closing your mouth in a dark alley not far from your own house. Frightened, you put up minimal resistance trying to hit the attacker in the groin and run away as far as possible, since the shoes were comfortable enough, but it was still a lost cause in advance
"Stop messing around, it's for your own good, sweetheart"
The frightened brain tried to do at least something to try to escape and escape, but what are the chances against it? It seemed to you that a steel grip completely squeezed you into a vice, cutting off oxygen and slowly plunging you into a thick abyss from which it was impossible to escape despite all the pathetic attempts to bite or hit opponent.
Being scared, you didn't even know who the voice belonged to. But it was because of your ridiculous floundering in an attempt to escape that Leon stuck a syringe in you, after which all the muscles seemed to turn to stone.
"Shh, everything will be fine sweetie." Leon turned you around to face him when consciousness was already leaving. "So go to sleep and be the good girl you always were. And I'll take care of you..."
Someone else's lips gently touched your face, once he easily picked you up in his arms, quickly laying you on the back seat of the car.
Everything is fast perfect fast clean and no witnesses.
💙💙💙💙💙💙💙
While you were resting on the top floor, Leon set up cameras in the house so that you could monitor your actions while he was not at home. Actually, he was thinking about a comfort zone like the one in the last apartment - a small cozy hanging chair, a cute fluffy white rug and a small table lamp with a coffee table where you could put a mug with a hot drink while reading a book or watching TV. He even figured out in his mind exactly where in the house it would be best to arrange while taking the boxes out of the trunk into the living room. The luggage wasn't too big, Leon decided a long time ago that he had more than enough money to buy everything for you himself, but it should take a couple of days before the drug he injected into you finally gets out of your body, so your things will lie in the next room for a while, which a little later, maybe in a year or two will become a nursery.
Leon looked into the bedroom again when he put all the boxes together, but you continued to sleep in the same position in which he left you. Smiling, he had a desire to take a break and drink coffee. In complete silence, only grasshoppers were chirping outside and a strong wind was making noise, as if foreshadowing bad weather, everything was quiet when he sat down on the sofa holding the remote control. It took no more than a couple of hours before something fell with a crash upstairs, forcing Leon to quickly jump to his feet and instantly run down the stairs, opening the bedroom door and seeing you on the floor trying to get back on your feet.
Poor bunny, but Leon will take care of you...
I'm a little burned out for writing, despite the fact that I have a lot of requests that I still want to answer. It's just that my psychological state does not allow me to make beautiful and smart sentences even in my native language, so I don't even know if I will finish this nonsense with yandere Leon. Reviews are welcome at least because they cheer up the author by showing that you care.
Of course I will publish something from time to time, but it will probably be at a long interval.
#leon kennedy#leon scott kennedy#leon s kennedy#resident evil#leon x reader#leon kennedy x reader#leon s kennedy x reader#resident evil x reader#leon kennedy x you#reader#leon kennedy headcanons#resident evil leon#infinite darkness leon#yandere!leon kennedy#yandere leon kennedy x reader#yandere resident evil#yandere leon kennedy#yandere resident evil x reader#yandere Leon S Kennedy x reader
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Something Missing
Summary: You cockwarm Leon while he reads your missing person poster
Yan!Leon Kennedy x F!reader
CW: Cockwarming, yandere Leon(you were taken), p in v, hickies, breeding, Daddy kink, female reader anatomy.
Word count:1.4K
One of the corners of Leon’s mouth turned up, his hand smoothing at your back before moving down to sink his fingers into the flesh of your ass causing you to whine and move your hips before he hushes you. His hand kneading at the soft flesh as he coaxes you back into a syrupy state of mind, clenching his jaw before pressing a kiss to the crown of your head as he feels your warmth pulse around his cock. The paper in his hand crinkling slightly.
With his lips still on your head, he brought the paper closer “Look sweet bunny, they got that bit wrong didn’t they?” Your head turned from where it was buried in his neck to look at the paper in his hand. The big red ‘MISSING’ was the first thing you saw, your eyes travelling down the words and pictures of you sprawled along in a fine font. Searching for what he had pointed out.
Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you nodded in agreement with him, his hips rutting his cock up into you as you did so “mhmm, wasn’t wearing that daddy” he pressed another kiss to the crown of your forehead, hand still massaging at your ass. But when you moved your own hips, his hand hit with a sharp pain.
“Now now, my sweet girl, you’re meant to sit there and keep daddy warm till he decides he’s ready” You nodded as your head rested against his chest again as he soothed you to stay still again, biting your lip as the feeling of how stretched you are but its for nothing as he readjusts your positions on his office chair and the tip of his cock bumps against the opening of your womb. Hand gripping at the shirt around his waist as you nuzzle into him.
“Sorry, daddy just had to move his leg” a flimsy excuse to enjoy the reactions he got from you. After working so hard on your training the past few years he deserved little moments like this, with your soft warmth surrounding him and being so good for him. He had even been able to take you out into the garden yesterday, he was proud of you for behaving. Even if it had taken a while to get here.
His hand dropped the poster slightly as he tipped your chin up so he could look at your face, the needy look in your eyes could have made him come right then and there. His thumb swiping at your bottom lip, his irises swallowing the colour of his eyes as he leaned down to press a kiss to your mouth. Tongue dipping passed your lips to taste at you, your eyes closing as you pressed yourself closer and your hands moved up to wrap around his shoulders.
When he pulled away you followed slightly, chasing that taste again and causing the grin to grow on his face again. His thumb wiping the saliva from your lip “Think I should frame this, bunny, keep it on the desk in my office” a blush covers your cheeks, the idea of the missing poster in his office with all the other pictures he had taken over the few years you had been together. They all stayed in his home office mind, especially with some showing more skin than others.
The way you blushed at things like this, how you would press your thighs and your breath would hitch when he touched you made him giddy. It hadn’t always been like this. There was a time when you would scream so loud he had to move you to a different location, a time when you’d leave him covered in deep scratch marks and bites…you stopped that after realising it only had a different reaction than you wanted. No that only led to him fucking you into the mattress.
Leon decided that you had wanted long enough, you’d been a good girl, letting him finish some work and not even mentioning anything off limits on the poster. He dropped the poster on the floor, moving his hands to take your legs and placing you on the desk. A high whine leaving you as his cock slid out. He quietly shushed you as he got out of the chair, moving the stuff behind you so you could lay back against the wood.
His hands kept your thighs apart, the sight of your pussy dripping onto the desk and down to the floor. Just watching as your cunt clenched around nothing, and the slick covered the darkened wood caused a groan to leave him and it didn’t take long for him to push into you. Slowly at first, just so his sweet girl could adjust to him and so he could feel every pulse and clench.
His fingers bruise into your thighs, and even though you try to watch knowing how much he liked when you watched the way he stretched you out and pumped into you, your head fell back to rest on the desk as you gripped at the edge. A frustrated noise sounding from you as he stopped moving.
“Daddy, please. Need you to move, want it so bad” Smugness filled his chest at the sound, begging like that always got you what you wanted, and it worked this time too. His hips set a punishing pace, chasing his own high rather than focusing on you. The desk moving under the both of you as it hit the wall, the sound of skin slapping filled the room.
With the angle and how he was holding you, the fat head of his cock rammed at your cervix and the squelching reaching his ears only fuelled him to fuck into you faster. His body bent over you, pressing his weight onto your body as his lips connected with the skin of your neck. Tongue moving to lick at your neck before he bit into the softness on the pulse point, a mark already forming as he sucked a bruise there.
The fringe of his hair tickled at you as he moved to leave more marks along your neck and shoulders, still bullying his cock into you before moving one of his hands up your thigh. He pinched at the inner skin, grinning at the squeal you let out before his hand continued moving. He finger dipping between your pussy lips, gathering some of the wetness and sliding to circle your clit. The other hands pressing your thigh down again as they twitched to close.
“Look so pretty like this, whiny and needy for daddy while he uses you” you could only moan in response, and he took one of your nipples into his mouth as his tongue swirled around it in the same motion he was using with his fingers. All of the sensations causing your hips to buck as you tried to squirm away a little. His one hand moving to your shoulder to keep you where he wanted you.
“Such a pretty bunny, you’ll look even better once daddy’s bred you honey” His hips never letting up the pace as he felt that familiar tightening in his core, and the way you pulsed around his cock while his balls felt heavier than before. Leon moved to stand up again so he could see your face, enjoying the blissed look on your face as your mind emptied of nothing but him. A small whimper leaving you as you gushed around his cock, leaking onto the desk and soaking his jeans.
His hand finally moving from your thighs as he brought it up to hold your jaw. Forcing your mouth open as your tongue immediately lolling out passed your lips for him, your legs clenching around his waist as he rode out your orgasm and into overstimulation. His eyes darkened from lust as he leant over you, spit drooling down from his mouth and into your parted ones and your eyes fluttered shut as your hips bucked up to meet his.
His hips stopped moving, pressing closer to you and your legs locked him in there. He leant over you again, spitting into your mouth as he filled you with hot ropes of cum. And he finally leans all of his weight on you as his head rests on your shoulder, arms either side of your head as he encases you in. Leon goes to move so he can help clean you up but is stopped by a noise of discontent and legs pulling him back in, his hand coming to pat at your hair.
What a good bunny. You know exactly what he likes.
#Leon Kennedy#leon s kennedy#leon kennedy x reader#yandere leon kennedy#yandere!leon kennedy#leon kennedy re6#leon s kennedy x reader#yan!leon x reader#yandere!leon kennedy x reader#re6 leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy x f!reader#leonkennedysmut
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