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#vendetta leon kennedy

hades-in-bloom · 8 months

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Scars

Leon S. Kennedy x Reader

summary: thinking of Leon’s scars (with a little bit of touching).

warnings & contents: fluff; assumed older Leon (more of RE6 and Vendetta, although I keep using ID! to illustrate); could be age gap, could be none; lots of cuddling; mentions of violence (sorta); the reader could be any gender; no mentions of y/n

a/n: a blurb, because I can. As always, proceed at your own risk. Minors DNI! Masterlist xoxo

soundtrack: billie eilish — when the party’s over

***

Leon’s figure was resting on top of the bedsheets, his bare back exposed to one’s curious sight with his features relaxed, while he was catching up on hours of sleep he was deprived of this week; thanks to another one of those excruciating missions. You couldn’t hold back a small smile; he looked so peaceful, lying there with disheveled dirty blonde hair and not a glimpse of worry on his face—something you would die to see more often after everything he has endured.

You were doing your best to stay as quiet as humanly possible so you wouldn’t wake him up when your gaze got drawn to the network of scars, interspersed with moles, scattered across his pale skin. There were a couple of fresh bruises flourishing into purple and yellow blobs, too, adding to a rich picture. You winced like you could feel his pain. You’d never get used to seeing him this way—seeing him hurt.

Your touch was lighter than one of a feather when your fingers slid over one of his scars, tracing its shape slowly, with care. This one seemed to be old, fading away over the years, thus one of the rarest ones—as there were many more those anew, coming in different shapes and shades of pink. It didn’t matter, though, how many of them were on Kennedy’s body—you knew them all, keeping the count.

You pulled your hand away in a swift motion as you felt Leon stir. He was still half-asleep when he opened his eyes a crack, his gaze fixed on your features. You looked guilty.

“Hey,” he muttered hoarsely with a faint smile. He didn’t sound irritated—rather exhausted. “Can’t keep your hands off of me, sweetheart?”

You chuckled softly as you eliminated the distance between the two of you, and then rested your head on the edge of his pillow. His hand immediately wrapped around your waist, pulling you even closer.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to wake you up.” You pressed your lips against his forehead. You kept your voice barely above the whisper, hoping he’d be able to go back to sleep.

He hummed, “It’s okay,” with his eyes almost shut again, as his mind stayed in the half-place between awakeness and dreams. His thumb caressed your side mindlessly, soothing himself down.

You put your hands on his back in a kind of hug, feeling the bumps of his scars under your fingers.

“You have never told me their stories,” you said quietly, cradling him with your touch.

Leon’s body tensed slightly, his face now hidden in the crook of your neck. His warm and even breathing sent shivers down your spine.

The man became silent for a moment, taking his time before he replied, “I don’t believe these are stories that I should make you listen to.”

He preferred not to bring his work home.

You didn’t insist—you have always respected his choices. You left a kiss on his temple while Leon hugged you tighter.

“I’ll listen to anything you’d be willing to tell me, handsome.”

He smiled; you could feel his lips stretching out on the skin of your neck. It wasn’t a trust issue; Kennedy could tell that much—but he needed time to gather the courage to drag you into his waking nightmare.

“Maybe one day, sweetheart,” Leon sighed deeply, his tone calm as he admitted; his eyes now closed. “Maybe one day.”

You spent the next minutes running fingers through his hair until he drifted back into a blissful sleep.

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fortune-fool02 · 1 year

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I want to make Vendetta Leon breakfast in bed, run him a bath, massage his back...

For the love of God, let me love this man.

#leon kennedy #vendetta leon #leon kennedy vendetta #resident evil vendetta #re vendetta #vendetta leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon scott kennedy x reader #leon s. kennedy #leon s. kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy

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xmalereader · 1 year

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— - Leon S. Kennedy -—

Leon Kennedy RE2R

• Leon S. Kennedy RE2R x Male Reader

Summary: Reader is a mafia leader who becomes attached to none other than Leon Kennedy after the new rookie saved his life.

Leon Kennedy RE4R

• Leon S. Kennedy RE4R x Male Reader x Simón Riley

Summary: Leon and reader are tasked to work with 141 after they stumble upon there business, getting involved and needing information about an Umbrella lab. What Leon doesn’t know is that his boyfriend of five years dated the lieutenant and used to be apart of the 141 before he met and worked with Leon.

Leon Kennedy Infinite Darkness

• ID Leon S. Kennedy x Teacher! Male Reader

Summary: Leon is in need of a teacher for his daughter, Sherry and is recommended one of the best homeschooling teachers.

Leon Kennedy RE6

Coming soon…

Leon Kennedy Vendetta

Coming soon…

Leon Kennedy Death Island

• DI Leon S. Kennedy x Bunny! Male Reader

Summary: Leon is in need of a vacation and wants to spend more time with his bunny boyfriend, perhaps start his vacation with some welcome home sex?

#male reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #Leon Kennedy x male reader #RE4R #resident evil #PS5 game #crossovers #au #LETSS GOOOOO #my RE era is back #RE2R Leon Kennedy #infinite darkness Leon Kennedy #RE6 Leon Kennedy #Vendetta Leon Kennedy #death island Leon Kennedy

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skyballz · 5 months

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Do you think Leon would wear those 1800’s nightgrowns or those like fluffy ones?

Just asking for a friend

(Here’s a visual:)

(I kinda wanna draw him in one of them with my self insert)

#resident evil #resident evil 4 #resident evil 2 #resident evil 2 remake #resident evil 4 remake #resident evil 6 #death island leon #vendetta leon kennedy #rookie leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #skyballz talks

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noodle-bin · 3 months

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Dust Collector

Vendetta!Leon Kennedy x Reader

summary: short drabble about leon and reader wallowing in their substances about how life just never gets better.

tags: angst, substance abuse, alcoholism, devil’s lettuce, reader smokes, heavily self-projected

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“Smoking again?” A deep voice called out from behind you. You knew it was Leon’s. You let the smoke fall from your lips as you stared out at the city lights, legs dangling from the balcony.

“Hey, Leon.”

He sat beside you, and you noticed the drink in his hand.

“Drinking again?” The edges of your lips curving only slightly, amused at your own joke.

“Yeah. Seems that way, doesn’t it?” His words fell out a little slurred and slow. Not much different from your own absent mind.

“Talk to me,” Leon said before taking a swig of the flask in his hand. You could barely see the outline of his face and the movement in his throat as he swallowed the booze.

“Hm,” you hummed. “It’s an easy escape. I shouldn’t even be sad, I’m not living through some sort of severe trauma. It’s easy to understand yours,” you nudged your head in the direction of his flask.

You felt his hand gently touch your cheek, tracing your eyelids and the shape of your lips.

“Everyone’s issues are just as serious as anybody else’s. Even if others 'have it worse'.” Leon made quotation marks in the air.

“Yeah well, I can’t explain why I’m sad. It all comes back from nowhere. Seizing in my chest. It won’t leave, and I’d rather feel nothing than feel these waves of pain,” you say before taking another hit of your pen. It was easy. Getting high. In moments like these when the world was becoming too much and it feels like you’ve been trying to wade through a never-ending pool of mud. You didn’t want to feel much of anything anymore. What was worse is that you also lived with the contrast of it. It was scary when you finally snapped back into reality and craved the exact opposite of being numb. Putting yourself into dangerous situations to feel something. It was a never-ending cycle. Running from your feelings, muting them down, and next you’re fighting to feel anything except what you felt.

“Hey,” Leon called out. He leaned in closer to you, sitting flush to you now with your thighs touching. You could smell the alcohol on his breath.

“I know it’s scary and never ending. I’ve been there.” Leon tried to comfort you, but his own slurred actions were just as helpful as your absent high. “I’m still there.” Leon whispered, swishing the drink in his flask. “It won’t leave me alone either.”

You leaned your head on his shoulder, staring out at the lights in the city. It was comforting, the both of you here at rock bottom. It felt like the night could continue forever, and this high can continue forever, and it’d all be okay.

“Talk to me,” you murmured before taking another hit, letting the smoke go down your throat.

“I’ve lived through hell.” Leon started. “I’ve seen so much and lost so much. It feels like it’s a past I can’t escape,” Leon sighed. His body felt so heavy. “I can’t sleep. I only ever get nightmares. It feels like I’m on the edge constantly.”

You held his hand.

“It’s so much easier to numb the past like this,” his voice was back to a whisper again. You looked at him through sleepy eyes, seeing his own absent mind.

“We have each other,” you say simply.

And it was true. The both of you could mediate the pain like this. Let the waves of nothing envelope you over and over, a sweet escape from hell in your mind. So the both of you stayed like this. He passed you his flask and you passed him your pen, the both of you succumbing to the numbness of it all.

It was easier than facing whatever mental hell you had to go through.

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #vendetta leon #vendetta leon kennedy

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rad1og1rl · 10 months

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sleep awake

vendetta leon kennedy x gn reader

word count: 540 words

tw: mention of firearms, anxiety and paranoia.

dating leon kennedy, meant understanding and adapting.

understanding why he did some things. adapting to accommodate them.

it meant understanding why he drank. it meant adapting to his drunken behaviors.

it meant understanding his anxieties and adapting to his paranoia.

you pitied him, as much as you knew he would not want you to.

you loved him, much more than he could fathom.

one thing you still had yet to adapt to, was his sleeping habits.

you understood why he was a light sleeper. you understood why he was an insomniac, you understood why drinking helped him sleep easier, and you understood why he kept a .45 on the nightstand.

yet, you could not adapt to the fear the sight of it caused you. being a normal citizen, you had no use for a firearm. being the partner of leon kennedy, you now had one in your home. you'd be lying if you said it didn't bother you.

leon knew. and he made sure to reassure you every time your worry spiked. always showed the safety was on, that it was pointed away from the bed, away from you.

leon kept the handgun there, as a reassurance to himself. he wanted to protect you. raccoon city and his work as an agent left him distraught at the idea of anything happening to you. he needed the handgun there. he needed to feel the weight of it in his hands when he lay awake at night and could not sleep.

he needed to hold it, trace the grooves, feel the trigger, and let the weight keep him grounded. it took him forever to finally get to sleep; even then, he was a light sleeper. one hand around your waist, the other on his .45.

at first, you tried to convince leon to put the weapon in a closet, not wanting to see it anywhere in the shared apartment. you then realized that he couldn't... not without making himself anxious.

it was almost like withdrawal, in your eyes.

seeing the way his fingers would twitch, itching to feel the metal of his constant company on his missions. his eyes would dart around more than usual, and it was then you truly realized that the handgun would not be disappearing anytime soon.

out in public, he kept it concealed in his waistband. in the house, he left it on the nightstand. waiting for his skilled fingers to pick it up, give it purpose, and set it back down.

you also realized leon wasn't anxious because he couldn't protect himself, he was anxious because he couldn't protect you.

at least, not without the help of his metal friend. you understood this.

but you would probably never adapt to it. knowing it's been used. not just for practice. not just for fun.

you loved leon, but you feared his method of protecting you.

understand and adapt. let the handgun sit on the nightstand. understand and adapt. let it face the window for an intruder that would probably never come. understand and adapt. let him hold it in one hand and caress your hair in the other.

understand and adapt. know it would never leave its spot on the nightstand, and curl further into leon's warmth.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy imagines #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #leon scott kennedy #leon x reader #leon x y/n #resident evil vendetta #vendetta leon #vendetta leon kennedy #re vendetta #resident evil fanfiction #resident evil x reader #Spotify

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hades-in-bloom · 9 months

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Shower Thoughts

Leon S. Kennedy x Reader

summary: Leon has just returned from another soul-crushing mission—and you didn't happen to be home yet.

warnings & contents: heavy angst, our sweetpea is hurt; suicide trigger/thoughts; implied severe depression; assumed older Leon; implied military training on the reader; more hurt than comfort; mentions of death and violence, and blood; could be read as age gap but could be none; the reader could be of any gender; there's light at the end of the tunnel.

a/n: I was craving some angst but didn't plan it to go that far; oh well. Our sweet boy deserves all the happiness though—but author is a bitch. Also, I don't believe Leon would be seriously considering harming himself, but I do believe that he's an empathetic human being kidnapped in his youth to do a shitty job, so there could be a moment of weakness; otherwise, “we owe it to the people who died alongside us, so we have to continue living.” As always, proceed at your own risk. DNI minors & if mentions of suicide affect you. This is a work of fiction and shouldn't be used as guidance on how to behave in similar sensitive situations. Masterlist

***

Leon rubbed his hands under the hot tap forcefully, willing to wash off the blood; the water coming off his fingers was clean for a while, but he seemed not to notice it—after all, there was always blood on his hands, whether others could see it or not. The man only stopped when the touch started to hurt, his abused skin red from friction.

“Shit,” Leon grunted under his breath and turned off the faucet angrily, his breathing ragged. Others might say that it was adrenaline still rushing through his veins, but he knew it wasn’t it. For how long he’s done this job, he was past the prolonged adrenaline rush a while ago. Leon put his palm over his forehead, barely covering his exhausted eyes; his hands slightly shaking.

How many more people had to die before this shit would end?

He remembered them all, those he couldn’t save, and he only kept counting. Leon knew he wasn’t supposed to—saving ordinary folk was a luxury in his position—but it was hard for him to accept who he had become. The extensive bathroom mirror in front of him, he couldn’t level his gaze to take a look at himself, and when he did, his teeth clenched, and his glance shot into the corner of the reflection—there was his essential gear, a pistol and a knife, thoughtlessly dropped on the bathroom floor.

Suddenly, he felt exhausted. A carnal thought made him blush in a fever—wouldn’t it be so easy? Leon was never the type to look for easy ways out—but he was only of flesh and blood, too; isn't he only human? Despite what reports said about him always being “the survivor” and “the golden boy.” Screw the odds.

He picked up his gear from the floor, his palm sliding across the pistol barrel. Leon counted the bullets left in the magazine with another hand, pulling it back into the grip compartment right after; his facial expression was unreadable, deprived of emotion. In moments like this, the man wasn't sure if he could feel anything anymore.

Wouldn't it be so easy, after all? Maybe after that, he'll be able to wake up from this bloody nightmare.

Consumed by his thoughts, he didn't hear how the keys screeched in the lock of the apartment door, and you came in.

You noticed his jacket on the hanger, and your eyebrows shot to your forehead in surprise.

“Leon?” you called to him, dropping bags full of groceries next to the kitchen island; your body tensed in anticipation. You didn't expect him so early. After his assignments, he usually barged in the middle of the night and not in the light of day. You didn't complain, though. You missed him.

You gently knocked on the bathroom door when you heard muffled sounds from another side. “Hey,” your voice was calm and soothing. “Can I come in? Do you need help?” At this point, you got used to his bruises and stitches, caring only about him getting back home in one piece.

There was something more to his injuries this time.

“Shit,” Leon cursed under his breath again when you stepped into the bathroom, despairing of getting a word out of him. You were worried; he could see it on your face. You quickly noticed his scalded hands, the right one behind his back, hiding something. He looked like a curious teenager who got caught watching adult movies.

“Hey,” his lips stretched into an unnatural smile. “Sorry, I didn't hear you come in…”

“You should've called me,” you scolded him calmly, making a step forward. His body tensed and froze as soon as you stretched your hand toward him, and you held back a frown. “…I would’ve been home in a heartbeat.”

The man’s eyes were bloodshot, his lips chapped, and his breath ragged; and then you saw it—the reflection in the mirror betraying him—his long fingers clinging to the gun. Your mouth went agape, and you dashed forward with a precision of a trained police officer.

“Give it to me,” you hissed, your heart beating in your throat. You were scared—you haven't been that afraid of in ages. Leon gasped, bamboozled, and his hand easily let go of a weapon. You didn’t ask—you slapped him across the face, letting your frustration out. “Are you mad? What were you going to do with this thing?”

You would react differently if he wasn’t hiding it; somehow this bothered you more than anything. After all, Leon should’ve known that you wouldn’t fumble at the sight of a gun, which made his attempts to cover its presence even more pointless.

His cheeks flushed, and he gulped, incapable of looking at you; he was confirming your worst fears, and after giving him a long stare, your hand covered your mouth to stop you from sobbing.

“Moron,” you grunted under your breath. His head got even lower, and you saw a tear falling onto the lightly colored tile. It took you a moment before you grabbed him into an angry, desperate embrace. His hands wrapped around your waist, then one shot into your hair, pressing at the back of your head, pulling you closer. His face was buried into your neck, and his body shook violently as he let himself cry.

You held him painfully close as long as it was necessary. “I am sorry,” you whispered next to his ear while he clung to you like a drowning man to a lifeboat; you sounded hurt and angry—and hopeful. “I am so, so sorry.”

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leonsbunny · 4 months

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Oh, Pretty Boy

( Vendetta!Leon Kennedy x GN!reader || sitting on a staircase your husband ♡ angst with comfort )

Oh, if Leon could, he would keep you close to his heart, always. He already keeps you in his wallet. How close could he get?

That's where you should be, with him, he thought. You made him feel young again, like he had some sort of control in his life.

A security blanket, open and loving. Always waiting for him to come home, excitedly embracing him like you haven't seen him in years. Even if it's only been hours- can't help but worry for an old man like him, huh? Poor baby.

And there he finds himself, draped over your shoulder by the arm. You sit together with him on the carpeted stairs of your shared home.

“Pretty boy…” his blues focus on you as you speak, his eyes droopy. Tired. A bit unhappy with how lonely he's left you since he came back.

All Leon wanted now was you.

To be the object of your affection, to have his company wanted, needed because he was himself. For him. Was he selfish for wanting to be loved by you? All he wanted was to be the object of your love.

All Leon needed was you to keep him grounded. To be loved by you meant that he at least did something right in his life, even if it wasn't what he wanted it to be.

In your hands was a small locket. An intricate, silver locket.

You smile as you present it to Leon, “I uh..got this for you, hon.” The way you hesitate to present the locket to him was cute, Leon thought. A sweet thing like you shy around him? What an honor. You gently shove it towards Leon. He looks down at the locket, no words leaving his lips for a solid moment.

“You…you got this for me?” He asks if it wasn't already obvious enough. That you did, in fact, get it for him. It was right in front of him. You eagerly nod your head, your smile widening.

He blinks as he stares down. You cared enough to get him a locket? Just for him?

He blinks more, his blues wash over with tears. He was crying? Over some locket? Leon sniffles, corners of his eyes folding into creased lines as he narrows them to hide his tears.

“Aww sweetie..” his gruff voice softens, his bleary eyes drop down to look at the locket again.

And, his blues fill with tears again. The more he thought about it, the more he realized you cared for him.

It was a bit foreign to him, this feeling. Made him feel fuzzy. Like TV static. He couldn't really explain it.

He gently holds the locket, thumbing it open with his hand.

The locket clicks open, and inside was a photo of you. All smiley and sweet, just how Leon liked seeing you. If you were happy, Leon was, too. If you were mad, he'd be mad with you.

Although you couldn't see it, his heart was beating in his chest like a metronome back and forth. His heart in his ribcage was he too old to say he could feel it in his bones? Oh, Leon didn't want to dwell on that now. He was already beginning to feel nostalgic about what was happening right now, and it wasn't even over. Leon was in the moment.

In the moment with you.

This wasn't like the movies. He had to remind himself. There wasn't an end credit scene.

Well, at least not yet.

“Oh..” He mouths, blinking. His lash line fills with tears again. The harsh lines in the corners of his eyes soften as he looks at the picture of you inside the locket. “What are you, a mind reader?” He chuckles softly, running his thumb along the surface of the photo you somehow stuffed into such a small thing. Leon could never.

You don't answer his quip. Instead, you brush away the hair framing his face. “Are you…are you crying?” You ask softly. He looks toward you before quickly looking away. “N-no, no, I'm not crying. Shit…” He murmurs the last part under his breath. You caught him. You did it. You caught Leon crying. It was obvious. You've seen him cry before. You could tell by his slight stammer, his avoidant gaze, that he was going to cry.

And yet Leon acted like his heart was going to explode into pieces if he did cry. Like it was wrong to cry. It wasn't wrong. But to Leon, it felt wrong to cry in front of a sweet thing like you. He didn't like crying at all. He absolutely despised the stammer he had whenever he teared up. Lower lip shaking, his blues clouding up in warm tears.

“I'm not crying.” He denies, though it was obvious that he was. “But you are crying,” you murmur softly, pushing his hair behind his ear. You just had to see his face.

He tries to push down your worries by chuckling, though it came out more shaky than he wanted it to be. “You're crying, hon.” You repeat, wrapping your arms around him. “It's okay.”

Leon sighs shakily, leaning into your embrace. His posture softens, drooping down against yours. “What did I do to deserve you, sweet thing?” He murmurs onto the crown of your head, his eyes wander from your face, down to the locket again.

“You did the right thing, hon. C'mon..don't be like that.” You reply, drawing out your words like soft lines in the air. Like nostalgic cords of a song Leon couldn't remember the verses to.

Hearing you say that, hearing it come from your lips makes the tears clouding his vision finally fall. “Don't…don't be like that..” Leon replies in a low whisper.

He embraces you, taking in your warmth. Soaking it in as best as he could through his leather jacket.

#꒰͡ ♡ vendetta leon ♡ ͡꒱ㅤ #i love vendetta leon #older leon kennedy #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x reader #‧ ₊ ﹒ ୨ ♰ ୧ ﹒ ₊ ‧#leon kennedy angst #leon kennedy fluff #resident evil x you #resident evil x reader #resident evil angst #resident evil fluff #vendetta leon kennedy

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dmitriene · 5 months

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𝗜𝗧'𝗦 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗠𝗘 𝗜𝗡 𝗧𝗛𝗜𝗦 𝗪𝗢𝗥𝗟𝗗.

❝𝗖𝗢𝗡𝗧𝗘𝗡𝗧❞ 𝘣𝘰𝘺𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘢 𝘭𝘦𝘰𝘯 𝘬𝘦𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘥𝘺 𝘹 𝘨𝘧 𝘧𝘦𝘮 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

❝𝗦𝗨𝗠𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗬❞ 𝘱𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘦𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦, 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘵, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘦𝘰𝘯 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘥𝘦𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘯 𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘧 𝘰𝘯 𝘥𝘳𝘶𝘨𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘵𝘩𝘺

❝𝗧𝗔𝗚𝗦❞ 𝘈𝘕𝘎𝘚𝘛, 𝘏𝘜𝘙𝘛 𝘕𝘖 𝘏𝘈𝘗𝘗𝘠 𝘌𝘕𝘋, 𝘕𝘚𝘍𝘞, 𝘚𝘔𝘜𝘛, 𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘵, 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘢𝘭𝘤𝘰𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘮, 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘥𝘳𝘶𝘨𝘴 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘶𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘶𝘯𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘵𝘩𝘺 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱, 𝘤𝘰𝘥𝘦𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱, 𝘳𝘶𝘥𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘰𝘹𝘪𝘤 𝘣𝘦𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘳, 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘲𝘶𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘴, 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘶𝘱, 𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘰𝘧 𝘥𝘪𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘶𝘦𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦, 𝘮𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘺 𝘣𝘪𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵, 𝘶𝘯𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘱 𝘪𝘯 𝘷, 𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘴, 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘱𝘪𝘦, 𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴, 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘢𝘴𝘮𝘴

❝𝗔𝗨𝗧𝗛𝗢𝗥'𝗦 𝗡𝗢𝗧𝗘❞ 𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘴, 𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘯, 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘢𝘴 𝘪 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘰𝘵 𝘣𝘦, 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘷𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘥, 𝘪 𝘢𝘥𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘴𝘮𝘶𝘵, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘤 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘵𝘴 𝘯𝘶𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳 16 𝘢𝘯𝘥 10, 𝘪 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘭𝘭 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘪𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘶𝘵, 𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨

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

The night air was filled with the scent of distant rain while your apartment was bathed in a dim amber glow, the only source of light being the cityscape peeking through the window.

The clink of ice cubes in the glass filled the room as you poured yourself a drink, the amber liquid swirling in the glass, inviting yet burning, like the memories that haunted your relationship with Leon.

People have often said that love is a journey, an exploration and a shared path of two souls finding solace in each other, but your love for Leon was more of a storm, a noisy whirlwind, a tornado that threatened to tear you apart even as it bound you together, you ran your fingertips along the rim of the glass, getting lost in the reflections dancing in the amber abyss.

𝗟𝗘𝗢𝗡 𝗞𝗘𝗡𝗡𝗘𝗗𝗬.

The name alone carried weight, weight of scars and battles fought in the name of justice, when you first met him, it was like a scene from a typical crime drama — rain soaked streets, neon lights reflecting in puddles, and there he was, silhouetted in night, with a pistol in his hand and determination etched in his stern face.

Little did you know that this meeting would reveal a story of both passion and pain, a story that refuses to follow any script, far from real drama.

People came and went like mismatched puzzle pieces, but you and Leon were shackled by invisible metal handcuffs that teetered on the brink of codependency.

The allure of his presence was intoxicating, a drug that made you both addicted to the chaos you found in each other's arms, but every high was followed by crushing lows, and the demons that tormented him seeped into your shared reality like there were multiple cracks everywhere.

The first cracks in the fragile shell of your love appeared when you realized that it was not pure affection that was keeping you together, but toxic satisfaction.

It was the satisfaction of feeling needed, of having to be indispensable in your life, the dark truth was that you clung to each other not out of genuine love, but out of a shared brokenness that, for a while, seemed , made you whole next to each other.

The nights were the hardest.

When he stumbled through the door, his breath was laced with the sharp taste of alcohol, and his eyes carried the weight of the world, the weight of what he had experienced.

You were always the one to pull him away from the bottle, witness to his breakdowns that made you feel like you were tiptoeing along the edge of a collapsing abyss, along a thin rope stretched between half collapsed houses.

— «It's none of your business» he growled, his voice hoarse due to the screams that had found a permanent home in your shared space, and you, unable to tear yourself away, always screamed back, a storm of emotions seething inside you.

You couldn’t control your voice as the lump in your throat grew with every insult that sounded like a request to «fuck off» thrown at you, and you endured it all, swallowing tears, because blaming him for the storms raging inside him was the same as blaming the sky for its thunder.

The apologies came quickly, viscously, desperately and hoarsely, each «i am so sorry» was a plea for forgiveness that inadvertently tugged at the strings of your sympathy, tearing it raw.

How can you blame him if he was not the cause of the traumas that turned him into this broken creature? It was hard to tell him it was okay, to convince him that he didn't need forgiveness, but either way, any words you spoke were muffled by the press of his lips against yours.

Sweet and sticky, his kisses were like forbidden fruit, the taste of something you craved but knew was laced with poison.

With each apology, his lips wandered down from your mouth to your neck, exploring the geography of your collarbone and beyond, below, as silent pleas for forgiveness were fervently whispered, words hanging in the air and never fulfilled.

The dance of forgiveness is played out in the spaces of your common sanctuary, once absolutely rotting from the inside, a choreography of passion and pain, and in it — you, caught in the whirlwind of his emotions, have become the involuntary protagonist of the scene that unfolded in the dim light of your apartment.

Familiar hands grip your hips tightly as he thrusts into you with a force that leaves you breathless and your eyes stinging as tears well up, not from pain, but from seething emotions, the sound of flesh slapping flesh fills the room, drowning out any other noise, filling thoughts with their naked vulgarity.

His thrusts are deliberate and controlled, an attempt to drive something, his affection, maybe, because each thrust hits you deep and hard, declaring his rights, the signs of sex and sweat hang heavily in the air, mixing with the pathetic whines escaping from your lips.

Pink lips find your collarbone, teeth sinking into the tender flesh with a mixture of desire and possessiveness, sudden and sharp, and bruises bloom on your skin, marking you as his as his pace quickens and his cock slides in and out of your wet cunt , stretching you to the limit.

Your legs, bent at the knees and stretched to the limit, tremble as pleasure flows through your body, threatening to drive you over the edge with just a couple of minutes in this position.

Calloused fingers dig into your flesh, leaving red marks as he holds you steady, relentless in his pursuit of pleasure, huffing and growling at you but not leaning in to kiss you.

As his rhythm becomes more chaotic, his cock seems to become larger, stretching you even more, forcing your wet walls to suck him deeper and feel every vein and how his tip bumps against the cervix, making you sigh every time, as if everything had been knocked out of your lungs.

In response, his hot hands grip your hips tightly, forcing your legs to spread wider, eager to penetrate even deeper as he slowly expresses and stretches your hole with just the tip before, with a wild grunt, he thrusts forward, his swollen cock passing through your trembling walls and bumping again your cervix again and again.

A harsh mixture of pleasure and pain overwhelms your senses, making you whimper and scream in a symphony of raw need, your nails digging into the bulging muscles of his arms, desperate as you cling to him for dear life, your body arching in response to the overwhelming sensations like a lost note.

He continues his relentless thrusts, the harshness of them pushing you closer to the all consuming abyss, each collision between your bodies sending shockwaves of pleasure through you as the pain in your core grows stronger and deeper.

Leon’s breath comes out in burning gasps, a primal quality unfamiliar to you takes the lead as the room fills with the sounds of your desperate cries and the wet slaps of his hips on your ass, painting the sensitive skin scarlet.

The pressure builds, coiling tightly inside you and your stomach as his cock mercilessly slams into you in an animalistic rhythm, each new thrust making you roll your eyes back and never bring them back, moaning mindlessly, to which he responds with a growl or a sigh each time.

His thrusts become more powerful, each one driving deeper and faster into your throbbing core, and each movement of his throbbing shaft inside you propels your body forward, making your breasts bounce to the rhythm of his powerful thrusts.

His weight presses against you and his muscular body bends you in half as he leans towards you, looming over you in a two faced image of either a shield or just a shadow, and his controlling stance traps you in your own mind following a wave of whines and moans.

Your legs begin to shake uncontrollably, a clear sign of the impending release within you, a powerful orgasm ripping through your body, shattering your control as you mumble incoherently, lost in a sea of ecstasy, legs practically straightening out at the knees.

— «Jus' like that, good darling, i'll show how sorry i am» Leon chuckles, his deep baritone filling the room as he watches you unravel beneath him, sweat decorating his skin and strands of damp dark hair sticking to his forehead, which he pushes back with a casual movement of his hand, revealing his achingly beautiful, chiseled face.

His thrusts do not weaken, his own need pushes him to the edge, the sounds of your moans and his grunts fill the air, merging into one single and so strangely dirty in the darkness of the room, while you whine, chewing your lips and sighing with each thrust — «T-Too mu-much, angh!»

As your orgasm subsides, the pace of Leon's thrusts quickens, his movements become more insistent but uncontrollable, he feels a burning ball growing inside him, threatening to swallow him completely.

Leon squeezes your trembling knees, spreading your legs wider, causing a mixture of pleasure and sensitivity in your overstimulated body, causing your moans of both delight and discomfort to fill the air as he continues to thrust into you with an unrelenting force, causing your toes to curl and another familiar feeling of heat bloom in the stomach.

He relishes the feeling of your smoothness, your walls stretched to their limit, accommodating his every thrust, and his growl echoes through the room, a sound that leaves his lips as he gives in to his impending release, all the while managing to coo at you as he looks at your blissful face — «Look at you, not even angry anymore, hm~»

His climax hits him like a tidal wave, and his body tenses as he fills you to the brim with his warm, pulsating cum, causing your body to shudder and arch in response, gushing clear liquid onto his cock, achieving another orgasm in a row, the sight of the white ring at the base of his cock, glistening with the mixture of his cum and your fluids, only heightens his satisfaction, making him grin as he watches you tremble beneath him.

He holds himself deep inside you for a moment, ensuring every drop of his seed is released before slowly slipping out, allowing his cum to pour out of your hole little by little as your body shakes in small convulsions.

The blue gaze is fixed on the sight of his sperm flowing out of your stretched and filled hole, and a grin spreads on his face, he quietly coos in a low rumbling voice, as if comforting and slowly returning you from the snow white noise, forcing you to turn into a putty under him, to listen to his words — «That's it, everything is going to be okay, come to me, sweetheart»

You want to cry from the rush of tenderness and sudden emotional leap as he watches with satisfaction as your body trembles and shudders, overcome by shocks of pleasure, and finally the sound of your sobs reaches his ears, a jarring mixture of pleasure, relief and perhaps even a hint of shock from the intensity of what happened.

Leon lays down on the sheets with a gentle expression, not caring about their condition, sharply pressing you against his strong, muscular body, and he hugs you, holding you tightly to his chest, the warmth of his embrace provides sharp comfort, and you even forget that brought you to this moment, going limp.

He gently squeezes you, trying to calm the involuntary trembling running through your body, knowing full well that this was led not only by intense sex, but also by what happened before, although he is trying once again to erase it from his head, both his and yours.

When you cry, your tears mix with his skin, the salty taste on your lips when he holds you securely in his arms, comforting you silently, at a loss for words, and even you yourself don’t fully understand what exactly makes you cry, but in his embrace is so good and warm, so tender as before, but will these apologies be enough?

You could feel the pulsating rhythm of his heartbeat against your skin, a constant reminder of the storm that had just passed, while the city outside, now reduced to a distant hum, seemed to mirror the noise in your chest.

𝗕𝗨𝗧 𝗧𝗛𝗜𝗦 𝗧𝗜𝗠𝗘 𝗦𝗢𝗠𝗘𝗧𝗛𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗪𝗔𝗦 𝗗𝗜𝗙𝗙𝗘𝗥𝗘𝗡𝗧.

The realization hit you like a sudden gust of cold wind cutting through a broken apartment window, «It can't go on like this» — a desperate voice screamed in your head.

The remnants of pride, buried under layers of melancholy, made their way to the surface, it was a call from the depths of your soul, a request to get out of the abyss of dependence into which your relationship with Leon had turned.

The apartment, which had once been a refuge, now resembled a cage.

The walls whispered stories of broken promises, of an endless cycle of events as you watched him push you away again, that familiar cycle of self destruction unfolding before your eyes.

How many times have you endured this? How many times have you swallowed your pain until your throat and eyes burned with the acrid sensation?

𝗧𝗛𝗜𝗦 𝗧𝗜𝗠𝗘 𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗥𝗬𝗧𝗛𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗪𝗔𝗦 𝗗𝗜𝗙𝗙𝗘𝗥𝗘𝗡𝗧.

The embers of self esteem smoldered inside you and you felt a slow burning fire of determination to break free from the toxic addiction that had consumed both of you.

This realization weighs heavily on your chest — this has to stop.

The invisible cuffs that bound you to him needed to be broken, and the gravity that kept pulling you down needed to be released.

In the dim light of the evening apartment, you moved hastily, frantic energy with a fleeting flash prompted you to collect your things.

The closets willingly gave up their contents while you put clothes, memories and remnants of the history that once took place here, into bags, and the snow white walls now witnessed a hasty exodus, a desperate attempt to escape from the smoldering warmth that turned into suffocating cold.

The sharp jingling of keys and approaching footsteps echoed down the hallway, brutally interrupting your escape plan.

Panic welled up inside you as you realized that things like these never go according to plan, and you were once again paying the price for not realizing sooner, as your heart raced and your hands shook as you zipped up your bags, clouded by the fear of confrontation with him.

The door swung open, hitting the wall with a loud sound, and against the light in the corridor you saw the silhouette of Leon.

His gaze, clouded with a mixture of confusion and fatigue, locked on you, and the bedroom seemed to close around you, and the bags filled with the remains of your life were scattered like chess on a board where every step is the last.

In the midst of this chaotic picture, you froze in the tense silence that hung between you and Leon.

Your intention was to slip away quietly, to disappear without stirring up another storm, and yet you stood there like a deer caught in headlights, looking into his tired blue eyes.

Sudden regret and fear intertwined in the depths of his gaze, reflecting numerous cracks, unnoticed by anyone but you.

This is all nothing more than a battlefield where his and yours, or only your, emotions clashed in a silent war, and you longed for a way out of this cycle, like a bird in a cage, which intertwined your lives, but something kept you in place, a force, demanding recognition deep inside, gnawing into the very bones, whispering sickly.

Blue eyes that once brought comfort now glared at you with a weariness that mirrored your own.

And when his gaze darted to the bags, his eyebrows knitted in silent misunderstanding, and you felt a sense of guilt wash over you, a feeling similar to that of a child caught by surprise.

The blue eyed gaze, once warm and inviting, now sent a chill down your spine.

He looked at you, really looked at you, and the room seemed to tremble under the weight of unspoken tension, the first words that fell from his lips were not gentle, they were a growl, a demand for an explanation — «What does it all mean?»

Your throat tightens as if under your hands, a seething instinct of self defense rising within you.

You swallowed hard, the air in the room thickening as you prepared for the words that needed to be said, which slipped from your lips with noticeable heaviness — «I'm tired, Leon, i'm tired of it all»

He walked away from the door and stepped carefully, closing the distance between you.

The air crackled with tension as he studied you, and you stood your ground, not out of fear, but as if chained.

Deep down, you knew that he would not physically harm you, so you stood firm, not twitching, and in his eyes you could see a different kind of fear — the fear of losing, the fear of things being irrevocably broken and never coming back.

As he approached, the space between you was filled with unresolved emotions.

His eyes searched yours, as if trying to decipher the language written in the depths of your soul in raw form, and in that moment, something changed.

Your gaze, once submissive, met his with an intensity that surprised him, one he had not seen before, telling him that you would no longer be a passenger in what was happening and it was time to move.

His blue ones, momentarily caught off guard, widened in response to the newfound strength in yours.

You spoke without words, there was a determination in your eyes that went beyond the usual silence, patience, and for a moment Leon hesitated, as if realizing the seriousness of the situation.

There was a tense silence, an invisible tension woven between you and Leon like a taut wire.

His chest tightened, pain settling inside him as he peered into you, finding a strange hostility, an unspoken resentment that pierced the air like a dagger.

But intertwined with the hostility was a firm confidence, a confidence that sent a shiver down his spine.

Then he felt it — a coming storm that would completely destroy him.

The flow of his thoughts was abruptly interrupted.

The simple but devastating words slipped from your lips like silk, but the sharpness of their impact was reflected in him — «I'm leaving»

It was as if everything inside him had collapsed.

The air in the room became thick, and he felt like he was falling to his knees in a fog.

The low growl that had colored his voice moments ago was gone, replaced by a muted vulnerability, his brows, once furrowed in a frown of disappointment, now arched in pleading as he looked at you, the hostility in your eyes mirrored by an unfamiliar sadness in his.

He felt like an abandoned dog, left alone in a kennel during a tornado.

His gaze slid along the contours of your face, catching a fleeting image of your eyes wandering over his sloppy stubble, bruises under tired eyes and dark, slightly disheveled hair.

His chest tightened even more, a mixture of longing and despair overwhelmed him, he wanted to reach out, grab you and pull you away from the abyss, but the confidence in your eyes held him back, and the fog in his head seemed to thicken so much that it made it difficult to find the right words.

— «You can't just walk away» he managed to say, the words escaping him like an unintentional plea.

Your gaze lingered on him, a hint of indecision flashed across your face, but your original feelings remained unshaken.

It was a devastating contrast — his vulnerability and your strength.

The urge to call it a prank, to insist that you were wrong, stabbed in your throat, but you swallowed the words and the final weight of the truth fell on him.

The silence stretched on, he finally realized the seriousness of what was happening, this was not a joke at all — this was the unraveling of a narrative that had become so complicated that it was so difficult to maintain it any longer.

The weight of the bags, filled with everything you had managed to hastily collect, seemed strangely heavy on the tips of your fingers.

Every object that had once been a sign of permanence now carried with it the weight of an impending farewell.

And everything around seemed to dim as you picked up your bags.

His eyes met yours in a silent plea for understanding, tension hanging thick like storm clouds on the horizon.

You sighed, tasting the remnants of something that had slipped through your fingers in the air.

— «I'm breaking up with you» the words came out like a scene from a cheap drama, and the weight of their impact echoed throughout the room.

His expression faltered, a shadow of disbelief appearing on his face.

The air around you immediately froze as you looked into his eyes, and the gravity of the moment fell like a lead curtain.

For a moment he stood frozen, as if expecting a joke that never came.

A flash of anger flashed across his face, a defense mechanism activated to protect him from emotional shock — «It's kind of a stupid, bad joke, isn't it?» he spat, a mixture of disappointment and disbelief in his voice.

But as you took a step forward, past his frozen figure, realization seemed to dawn in his eyes.

Denial disappeared, replaced by desperate anguish, he reached out and squeezed your hand in a vice — «No» he whispered, and the word fell from his lips like a prayer.

You felt the warmth of his hand on yours, his grip tightening as if trying to bind you to a reality he refused to accept.

His eyes, now filled with tears, met yours in obvious plea.

— «Why?» he asked, and the word was shrouded in confusion — «What's the matter? Why are you doing this?»

Questions hung in the air, and the silence that came again this time was saturated with emotion, tears flowed down his cheeks, and you bit your lips, unable to free your hand from his desperate grip.

It was a paradox — his confusion mirrored your own, the pain of the breakup mixed with the realization that he didn't even understand why.

A bitter laugh threatened to escape your lips, born from the pain of the situation, from the cruel irony that he was not aware of the reasons for your decision — «You don't even know» you whispered, your voice caught in the coma in your throat.

His grip on your hand tightened even more, as if he was trying to hold on to the slipping reality — «Tell me» he begged, the desperation in his voice tugging at the strings of your resolve.

The warmth left your hand as you pulled it away from Leon's desperate grip.

A sudden cold seemed to penetrate the room, and cold, not at all warm, tears flowed down your cheeks.

Your voice, sounding with resentment and trembling, cut through the silence that hung between you.

— «You've turned my whole life upside down» a muttering that holds weight.

His blue eyes, once filled with unexpected tenderness and childlike affection, shimmered with a vulnerability that reflected the general one, his hand reached out again, desperately trying to find the warmth that had escaped — «No» he whispered again, his voice laced with apology and uncertainty.

— «Then you destroyed it» you added, the words filled with bitterness that cut through the tension.

The light in his eyes flickered, going out like lights, he clung to your hand again, the warmth seeping into your veins again as if trying to gain a foothold.

— «I love you so much» he admitted, his voice shaking with emotion.

You snorted in disbelief, the sound mixing with the unsteady rhythm of sobs echoing through the room.

Tears blurred your vision as you cried not only from the pain of leaving, but also from the realization that he didn't fully understand the reasons for your decision.

— «You like to use me» you muttered in a hoarse voice, the words pierced the air like bitter truth — «You like it when i put up with you, when i depend on you»

His grip tightened, a silent plea for understanding — «I am so sorry» he whispered, apologies tried to crush, secure at the same dead center.

But your resolve only strengthened.

You couldn't stay in this cycle, in this improvisation of dependence and destruction.

Suddenly you pulled away from him, breaking the physical connection that seemed to tie you to a past you could no longer bear.

You rushed towards your bags, the front door beckoning to you and you knew you had to leave before the familiar pull of his presence pulled you back.

Desperately, you threw the door open, the cool night air a stark contrast to the suffocating atmosphere of the room, a breath of fresh air.

He screamed your name, a desperate plea in his voice — «Please don't leave! I can change, i can get better!»

But his words now sounded hollow in your ears.

You walked outside with your bags in your hands, the city outside your door indifferent to the personal storm raging inside as your heart raced.

His voice followed you, a distant echo of apologies and desperate declarations of love, tears now flowing freely and with every step you felt a sense of both relief and grief.

You knew that leaving him behind meant leaving a part of you, a part intertwined with him forever.

The door slammed behind you, the sound echoing down the corridor like the final chord of a melancholy symphony.

The city outside spread out before you, and as you walked away, the mismatched pieces of your life, the same puzzles, seemed to fly away in the wind, and the streetlights cast long shadows, and with every step you carried the weight of an end and the promise of a new beginning.

Meanwhile, Leon remained on the other side of the door, alone in the empty space that was once filled with laughter, love and shared dreams.

He sat on the floor, knees pressed against the cool surface, unable to find the strength to stand up, move, or catch up with the reality that was collapsing around him.

The room suddenly became huge, the walls holding remnants, and silent tears flowed down his cheeks and he didn't say a word, his cries merging with the silence that enveloped him, a mausoleum of memories, every corner of which was inhabited by the ghosts of a now broken relationship.

The new emptiness mirrored the emptiness within him.

The streets are blurry, your vision is blurred by tears that refuse to stop, the rhythm of the city seemed to mock the broken rhythm of your heart, but you moved on, driven by the instinct to escape, to forget, you felt as if you were suffocating with every breath that seemed, stuck in my throat.

While Leon remained on his knees, in the room where the walls closed in around him, and his hands clenched into fists, his fingers dug into the carpet, as if if he didn't hold on to something, he would simply slip away, just like the once fragile bonds built.

Each step along the streets took you further away from the place that once radiated warmth and love, sobs falling endlessly from your lips as with each step you tried your best to put distance between yourself and the apartment, between yourself and the man who, like you once thought it, would be yours forever.

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

#[ ✒️july writing ]#leon kennedy x fem reader #leon scott kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy hurt #leon scott kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon scott kennedy hurt #leon kennedy hurt/comfort #leon scott kennedy x fem reader #leon scott kennedy x you #leon scott kennedy comfort #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy hurt no comfort #leon kennedy fic #leon kennedy fanfic #vendetta leon #vendetta leon kennedy

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bonnibuckets · 17 days

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wip of vendetta leon!! :33

The bar's lights were dim and the music was loud. Your shift was only halfway through and a nauseating headache was brewing. Sighing you look to see if anyone is watching before you dig into your bag and fish out some advil. You pop it into your mouth and swallow dry. Desperate times. “On the job?” you jump hearing a gruff voice, “Oh my god” you chuckle dryly. Looking up you see a brunette man sitting at the bar. “Sorry I have a headache” you smile awkwardly, “but what can I get you started with?” His eyes squinting “neat whiskey”, you smile as he hands you his card “i’ll start a tab—” you look down “mr kennedy.” before leaving to get his drink started.

#bonnibuckwip:3 #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy fanfic #vendetta leon kennedy #re vendetta #leon kennedy vendetta

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leerica · 7 months

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I've created a new bot. I was inspired by some cool artist's art😺So here's your bot.

Your sassy cat Leon😾

(Don't hit me slippers, I really tried😿)

#kitty leon kennedy #cat leon kennedy #leon kennedy #resident evil #puppy leon kennedy #character ai #hybrid #resident evil vendetta #vendetta leon #vendetta leon kennedy #tumblr #catboy leon kennedy

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skyballz · 5 months

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OKOK ONE MORE LEON KENNEDY THOUGHT

I’m listening to “Every man gets his wish” by Lana Del Rey and I’m just imagining Leon and his s/o are out in a beautiful grass field on a warm spring day. He is laying his head on his s/o lap, laughing and just being all lovey dovey. Kissing them, telling of how lucky he become your partner. Just him being him yk.