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mo0nfairy · 2 months

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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.

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arkeresia · 8 months

Text

the R.P.Ds ex boy in blue 🩵🔥

#my arty crap #resident evil 4 #re4 #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #arkeresia #resident evil

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ovaryacted · 7 months

Text

Rookie Mistakes

Pairing: RE2!Leon x Sergeant fem!Reader

Summary: When Leon seems distracted and makes a mistake during a call, you ensure your rookie gets his head together as his sergeant.

Content/Warnings: 18+/MDNI. NSFW. Porn with plot. Dom/sub elements. Femdom/msub. Praise kink. Slight degradation. Needy/subby Leon. Oral sex. Fingering. Handjob. Office Sex. Slight age gap (reader is older at around 25, Leon is 21).

WC: 4.7k

Notes: Finally this is out. I know I know, I'm a liar! But, I had fun with this one, so I hope you like it. Shoutout to the babe @cinnarette for beta reading this and giving me her approval lolz. Anyways, reblogs & comments are always appreciated!

Leon had always been one to find the good in a shitty situation. Someone with a warm heart that matched the moral compass he developed despite the constant bullshit he experienced daily.

From his hectic childhood to his experiences in the police academy, he had to overcome many trials and tribulations on his own with nobody in his corner. All of those struggles to get the pure sense of relief once he felt his diploma in his hand made all the stress worth it.

When he first arrived at the R.P.D., he didn’t know what to expect. The anxiety of starting fresh in a new city with a new career clouded his mind with a paranoia he seemed to carry in his youth. Walking into the police department he’d call his new home, Leon was fairly surprised to be greeted with a welcome party.

Balloons and confetti filled the common room as he moved around the crowd, bombarded with introductions and greetings as he tried to memorize the names that were thrown his way. Still, the small games and blue cake he indulged in brought a smile to his face, topped off with the polka-dotted party hat he was forced to wear and the words Welcome Leon hung up on the ceiling for him to see.

What Leon didn’t expect was to be assigned to your personal detail the next day. A police sergeant on the force, a bit older, no more than 25 he first assumed, more refined and seasoned with one hell of a glare. First impressions? He was terrified, nervous as hell to fuck anything up seeing how you ran a tight ship, taking your job too seriously for comfort. Of course, you had to. You were working in a male-dominated field, forcing yourself into a mold so you could be taken seriously by those around you.

He took his hand out when being introduced to you, unstable grip and a nervous smile to match as he looked directly into your intimidating gaze. You shook his hand firmly, the strength of your grasp parallel with the small grin you offered him almost made a shiver roll down his spine.

“So you’re the new rookie huh? Well, it’s nice to see a fresh face in here. We have some serious work to do. Let’s get started.”

You were particular about how you wanted things done, very precise in your words and your delivery. A harsh leader, one who easily reprimanded the other rookie officers but was particularly picky with Leon. In a way, he started to feel like you were targeting him, pressuring him so he would crack and leave the force. He knew he couldn’t leave, that this was the career path he chose, and he was too anxious to say anything so he’d let it slide.

You didn’t let up on his training either, always making sure your rookie was on top of what was expected of him. The slight fear Leon had when first meeting you quickly turned into admiration. His stress-induced feelings morphed into respect, now wanting to learn everything you had to show him.

That was when it started. Leon now tried any little thing to get in your good graces, to see even the slightest sign of a smile or to hear you laugh. He started coming to work earlier to help with the case filings you had piled on your desk, organizing them the way you taught him whenever you assigned him grunt work. He wanted you to take a breather and start your day with a clear head, maybe even enjoy your coffee for a bit longer.

When you saw how tidy your work environment was, you went up to Leon who you saw was typing away at his desk diligently. His head lifted up to look at you, blue eyes glancing over your face to read your expression.

“Morning. By any chance, did you fix all the files on my desk?”, you asked curiously, making the blonde rub the back of his neck shyly.

“Yeah, I did. Wanted to help you out a bit and give you an early start to the day” he responded, silently hoping you wouldn’t be upset at him for entering your workspace. Instead, he was met with your look of genuine surprise, followed by a twinkle of gratitude.

“Thank you for that, I appreciate it. Keep up the good work Leon”, you praised him, offering a small smile, one that he made sure to burn into his memory.

“Yes ma’am”, his face was practically beaming at your words as he watched you walk back towards your office, trying to hide the sudden warmth flooding his cheeks.

Your words kept repeating in his head nonstop throughout the entire day. Not only did you acknowledge him in a positive light, you also addressed him by name, which was rare. He was more present at work, his posture straighter, and more eager to help. From that point on, he made it his mission to make sure his sergeant was stress-free, doing anything to see you smile at him again.

Working with Leon, you quickly learned that he was perceptive. A smart cookie, and probably the smartest one out of the current bunch of recruits. Despite the tough love you gave him, especially because he was your professional responsibility, he was the only one truly receptive to your teachings. Like a sponge, he took in everything you gave with a certain wonder you hadn’t seen in anyone else. It was cute really, how he was so ambitious and doing his best to get your approval.

What you liked the most about working with Leon was how he addressed you. He took your authority seriously, seeing someone in charge instead of your appearance. He didn’t say your name, not your first or last out of respect, but rather he always addressed you as Ma’am. You never had someone say that to you directly, thinking it makes you sound older than you actually are. But with the way his eyes warmed up when he’d say it with full confidence, you didn’t have it in you to tell him to stop.

Over the next few weeks, Leon became part of your daily routine, integral to the start of your day. He’d walk in a few minutes early as expected, with two coffee cups in his hands as he waited for you outside your office. Spotting the top of your head coming from speaking to the chief, you were heading his way. You had the same soft smile reserved just for him, one that he always looked forward to seeing when you worked together.

“Got you your usual”, he offered one of the cups to you, your fingers lightly grazing his when taking the warm concoction into your hand.

“Extra caramel?”

“With oat milk, vanilla and cinnamon. I triple checked”, he said enthusiastically, observing you as you sipped the drink. A soft hum escaped you while you closed your eyes in satisfaction.

“You know how to spoil me”, you gave him a wider smile now, seeing how his cheeks blushed the slightest bit at your expression. His reaction made you chuckle, a sound he’s come to enjoy the more time you two spent together.

“Now come on, we need to work on this case before we patrol at 12. The chief’s on my ass again so let’s get this over with before lunch yeah?”, and without fail, he’d give you the same ending response every time.

“Yes ma’am”

The more you invested in Leon’s skills, the more you realized small things about him that were fairly telling. You weren’t stupid. Anyone with a brain could see that the respect and admiration he had for you was turning into something else entirely. You could tell with every passing moment you had with him, noticing how the tension between the two of you would get thicker after every interaction. You didn’t comment on it. Instead, you enjoyed toying with him, a part of your ego feeding off on how he’d say yes ma’am in such a way that would make you want to hear it more often.

The faint touches between the two of you got more frequent. Your fingers would brush his during the exchange of files, you saw how he’d always be within a hair’s distance when standing near you. Moments spent training in the shooting range were where the intimacy seemed to skyrocket, putting your hands on Leon’s arms to keep his form up as he shot towards his target.

You didn’t need to do that. Leon was a good shot, accurate too. But you enjoyed the way he released a shaky breath whenever you were close to him or touched him, how the tips of his ears reddened when you praised him for hitting the bullseye.

In one certain instance when the R.P.D. was extra busy, you were being hammered with files and administrative work. The coffee sitting on your desk was no longer doing its job of waking you up, and the constant bombardment of having to organize new information was starting to make your head pulse. You stood up from your seat to give your back a break, bending backward until you felt a satisfying crack in your spine. Hearing a knock at your door that brought your attention, you noticed Leon on the opposite end.

“Hey, my bad if I caught you at a bad time. The investigators wanted to review those files on that drug bust we did yesterday, something about missing information”

“Oh yeah yeah, it’s right behind me. Hell, I don’t even know where I put it”, you turned to face the mess behind you, lamenting at the stack of files you have yet to sort through today.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll look for it. You stay focused on what you’re doing”

Just like that, Leon came over behind you, going through the files while you stayed reading over the papers in your hand. The both of you made quick conversation, commenting on how busy it became. The increase of instances flooding the department only added more to your workload. Leon kept digging through the pile, turning his body to go to the other side of you.

In the process, he put a hand on your hip and muttered an apology, slightly making you jump and walking behind you to go to your left side. You tried to pay no mind to the gentle touch, going back to refocusing on the case at hand. He found the document folders he needed, suddenly too close to your body when the second he turned, you moved backward into him. Leon’s hips pressed against your rear, his hands reaching toward your hips instinctively despite the hitch in his breath at the contact.

“S-shit, I’m sorry…”, he mumbled, cheeks flushed red as he walked out of your office. You didn’t get a word in, but his reaction was enough to tell you about what you already knew.

The ghost of his touch filled your mind for the rest of the day, and it was worse for Leon. He tried so hard not to think about it. Not to fantasize about how your hips would feel bouncing against his with force, what you’d sound like when you’re aroused. It was practically impossible for him. His imagination went haywire the second he got home, jerking himself off to relieve the hard-on he’s been managing since earlier this afternoon.

He couldn’t get the image out of his head. He thought about how you’d praise him, call him a good boy for making you feel good. Deep down, he wondered if you were equally as authoritative in the bedroom as you were outside of it. As he released all over his hands with a whine, he sighed to himself, fully aware that he had reached the point of no return with his own thoughts about you.

It was a Tuesday afternoon when both of you were assigned to handle two suspects committing a robbery. Called to the scene, you trailed them down to a nearby commercial street. They were careless too, throwing their guns halfway into the chase and the items they stole slipping from their grasp onto the concrete floor. Catching them felt easy, handcuffing one to the ground and throwing him to the backseat of your cop car. Leon seemed to be distracted, with what you didn’t know. When the second thief seemed to slip from his grasp and started to make a run for it, you knew he needed to get his act together.

“Get your head out of your ass Kennedy! Before I put my foot up there instead. Now move!”, you ordered him to get back into the patrol car. Turning on the police siren, you drove to track down the next suspect and apprehended them with quickness.

The drive to the station was quiet besides the two handcuffed men grumbling behind you. Leon kept his mouth shut, refusing to look your way, and focused on listening to the chatter on the radio. He knew you were pissed, and he didn’t know what had gotten into him today but he couldn’t focus for the life of him. The nagging voice in the back of his mind was telling him to be prepared for the worst, because he fucked up, and worse yet, he fucked up with you.

After bringing the two robbers down to the precinct, you couldn’t erase the irritation from your face. You couldn’t even look at Leon, upset that someone like him after so much training made such a rookie mistake. You only offered a glare, knowing for a fact you’d have to talk to him later on when your temper wasn’t so flared up. For now, you made Leon sit at his desk to do filing work, deciding not to berate him in front of the other officers and saving him the embarrassment.

Knowing you were giving him the silent treatment, he avoided you for the rest of the day, staying late at the R.P.D. in hopes of being able to talk to you. Leon drummed his fingers on his desk absentmindedly, until you came up behind him and got his attention.

“Kennedy, to my office. Now”, your tone of voice was harsh, making the hairs on Leon’s neck rise as he got up to follow you back to your workspace.

You locked the door once the both of you were inside, leaning back against your desk with your tactical belt off so your hips pressed against the wooden edge. Arms crossed over your chest, your head raised at the cop before you, watching his feet anxiously moving as he looked at the floor with slight shame.

“I want to know what happened out there. You messed up, and that’s not like you. You don’t make rookie mistakes anymore, we’re passed that”, you started to speak. Leon’s gaze was pinned on you, trying to hide his humiliation but it was clear as day.

“I know. I know I fucked up, it was a stupid mistake. I’m sorry”

“Yeah, it was. I didn’t invest all this time in training you personally for you to let things like this slip. You’re better than this, you know that”, your tone changed from irritation to concern, trying to get him to see the bigger picture.

“You’re my responsibility, Leon. I’m this harsh and this strict for a reason, and it’s because I care. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t give a shit what happened to you, but I do. This reflects back on me, so just get your head together alright?”, you saw how his brows furrowed a bit in slight confusion at your confession.

You cared about him.

“Yes ma'am. It won’t happen again, I really am sorry”, his hands started to fumble with his tactical belt.

“I know you are, but sorry’s not gonna cut it. I can’t have you distracted like this. Not on my watch”, you said, now walking from the desk until you stood in front of him. He didn’t move a muscle, not knowing what else to do besides stand there.

“If you’re really sorry you’re going to have to prove it. You’re not getting off that easy. You got that rookie?”, your eyes held that intimidating stare that made Leon tense, you could practically hear him gulp.

“I-I understand ma’am. Whatever it takes I’ll do it.”, he was still oblivious, having no idea what he just got himself into but he wasn’t complaining, not when you were this close to him. Your hand went up towards his belt, a singular finger curving into one of the loops to yank his body forward. Now standing chest to chest he shivered at the close contact, holding his breath and waiting for your next words.

“You’re gonna use your pretty mouth to prove that you won’t mess up like that again. Maybe if you’re good enough, I’ll think about being nice and rewarding you. That okay?”, your words were laced with pure temptation, making Leon nod, too scared to speak up. He didn’t know what to expect, but lord if he wasn’t going to pretend he wasn’t enjoying it.

“Use your words baby”

“Yeah, f-fuck it’s okay”, he was shaking in front of you, a blush on his cheeks so intense you could feel the heat radiating off of his skin.

“Can I kiss you?”, you tilted your head up towards him, his warm breath against your lips as the ends of your noses touched.

“Please do…”

You didn’t waste another second, lips colliding against his as Leon finally released the breath he was holding. He let you take control, his mind turning to complete mush at just the feel of your mouth against his. Tongues dancing together, you ran your fingers through his hair, his own hands going to paw at your hips. He released needy faint moans, holding on to you as if you were going to leave him any second now. When you pulled away from him and bit his bottom lip he whimpered, a sound you didn’t expect him to make. You fucking loved it.

You walked backward while he followed you on jittery legs. With your back now pressed against the desk again, Leon’s face dug into your neck, leaving a path of kisses in a way that made you chuckle. His hands were everywhere, overwhelmed with what to do or where to touch. You brought your fingers into his hair again, giving him a soft yank as he groaned out from the action. Pupils already dilated, you eyed him closely, how he seemed so far gone when you haven’t even started.

“You want to be good for me Leon?”, your voice was soft, almost patronizing and it only made Leon’s dick pulse in his pants.

“Yes, I wanna be good for you. Don’t want you mad at me”, Leon pouted, and you fought the urge to kiss him again.

“Then get on your knees and start working on your apology”, you commanded, watching how he bit his lip and nodded.

“Yes ma’am”, he was already shifting down to the ground, diligent fingers on the button of your cargos and undoing them, while you threw your shoes off.

Pulling the zipper down, he started to drag the fabric to your knees until it hit your ankles, pants discarded to the side and leaving you in your panties. Sitting on top of the desk, his eyes looked up at yours, coming face to face with where you wanted him most.

His large hands moved from your shin to your knee, then towards your thigh and hip to hook his thumbs into the waistband of your underwear, noting the wet patch that was already staining the cotton material. He dragged them down with ease until they hung at your ankle, lifting one of your thighs onto his shoulders to admire all of you with a soft moan.

“Can I taste you? Please?”, he mumbled against your thigh with a soft kiss. He was already playing the part so well, offering him a smirk as you drank in the way he begged you for more. You didn’t even have you train him.

“Yeah baby, you can”

Without hesitation, his mouth made contact with your body, the taste of your wetness filling his tongue and making his chest rumble. It was better than he imagined, moving his tongue up and down against your slit to collect the developing slick. You released a low hum from your lips, already pent up from the stress of your job and your day, now having your favorite rookie tending to you on your orders.

Leon was anything if not keen, tongue lavishing against your throbbing clit and his lips circling around it as he began to suck. You threw your head back at that, hand holding his head in place and hips moving towards him shamelessly. He was grunting under his breath, growing obsessed with the way your body twitched anytime he touched you just right.

“You’re doing so good Leon, so damn good for me”, you praised him again, feeling the sounds he’d release when you did talk to him. It was debauched, how his senses were filled with just you with no end in sight.

This was how you wanted to see him. On his knees and eager to please.

His attention went back to your opening, feeling it flex around nothing with every flick he gave you. Inserting his tongue into your cunt, your hips arched towards him again, moaning louder than you anticipated.

You were silently thankful your office was a bit farther away from the rest of the department, and being it was later at night, you didn’t have to hide much of anything. You moved Leon’s face closer to your body with a pull of his head, clit pressed against his nose as he sucked at your essence greedily, taking in everything he could get.

A warmth started to develop in your gut, pleasure like liquid fire making your body twitch. The high you so desperately craved was in near sight, grinding yourself against Leon’s face and using him to get off. He didn’t object, moving his mouth to suck at your clit again, two fingers teasing your entrance before inserting them inside. You cursed under your breath, the dual sensation of Leon’s fingers curling against your g-spot and his consistent sucking brought you closer to your much-needed climax.

“Fuck you’re gonna make me cum”, you could almost taste your release right at the edge of your tongue, could imagine the way it would feel to finally let go.

You looked down to watch Leon at work, how he’d pump his fingers at just the right pace, how his eyes grew hazy with pleasure when they looked up at you.

With one soft nip at your clit your release hit you full force, a small squeal leaving your lips as your gummy walls clenched around his fingers. Your grip on the desk and his hair were both tight, knuckles turned white as stars filled your vision. Leon kept moving his fingers and mouth the whole way through your orgasm, groaning loudly against you and refusing to stop. He couldn’t get enough of you or your taste, forcing you to pull his head away before the overstimulation made it too much to handle.

The both of you were panting, eyes widening when Leon pulled his digits away and inserted them into his mouth to lick off what remained of you. You pulled him up towards his feet, dragging him down to kiss you again and chasing your own taste that flooded his tongue. If you weren’t on a time crunch, you would’ve gladly let him go down on you again.

“Did I do good ma'am? Do you feel good?”, Leon asked, thumbs rubbing your trembling thighs as you came down from your high, flushed face waiting for your approval.

“Yes, you were so fucking good for me. You ate my pussy so well”, your words made him smile then, a dopey lopsided grin that seemed to ease his doubts from earlier.

“I think you deserve a little reward now. You want some help with that pretty boy?”, your eyes gestured to the tent in Leon’s pants, looking up at him from your long lashes.

“God, please touch me”, he begged then, blue eyes engulfed in pure lust.

You didn’t want to tease him any longer, undoing his pants and slipping your hand inside. With a gasp he felt your fingers wrapping around his cock that pulsated with need, knowing it wouldn’t take him long to cum either. He had been on the edge for too long, imagining you like this for what seemed like months. You pumped him, twisting your wrist and pressing your thumb against his slit, feeling the precum that was already making a mess in his briefs.

“You get hard when you have your superior’s pussy in your face huh? You like being used like that baby?”

“Y-yes, yes I do. God I fucking love it”, he nodded dumbly. “Love the way you taste, the way you feel…”, he didn’t even know what he was saying anymore, mind so blurred with just you that he was losing track of time and himself.

You smirked, kissing his neck and pressing your lips against the mole on his throat. Leon swallowed, hands pressing into your thighs for stability but he was so close to losing it. He thrusts his hips up into your hand, chasing his own high and you gladly let him, whispering sweet nothings into his ear and biting at the lobe. The sounds Leon released were downright pornographic, whines and lewd wet sounds filling your office.

“S-shit I’m gonna cum. Can I cum? Please ma'am, I’m so close”, he begged again, his cock throbbing and hot in your hand as he spoke. He bucked his hips more into your squeezing fingers, your pace picking up as you jerked him off more persistently. He felt like he could barely breathe, the prickly feeling in his lower spine getting more prominent the closer he got to his orgasm.

“Be a good boy and cum for me Leon. I want to see you cum baby”, it was your final order, and those words alone were his undoing.

His body shook above you when he fell over the edge, his lower stomach flexing hard as he came all over your fingers. He cursed and whimpered, an array of thank yous were said against your neck, hands pressed into your thighs hard enough to bruise your skin. His cum dribbled out of him as his body jerked, still pumping him to the point of sensitivity. He clutched your wrist to signal you to stop, half-lidded eyes looking at yours that filled with mischief.

You took your hand off of him and licked the remaining fluids, purring at the taste of him filling your mouth. Leon bit his lip when watching you, already starting to feel his dick twitch again for more.

He leaned down towards you, kissing you hard and chasing his taste, just like how you did with him. The eroticness of it all overwhelmed him, rasping against you as you pulled away. You looked over his face, cheeks flushed pink and lips plump from their usage. You burn that image into your mind, saving it for later when it would be more helpful.

“No more distractions or mistakes from here on out Leon. You come to me if you need to clear your head. Understood?”, he released a dry chuckle, placing another kiss against your lips, much softer than before. The intimacy made your chest warm, your smile matching his own.

“Yes ma’am”

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#leon kennedy #leon kennedy smut #leon smut #leon x reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy fanfic #leon scott kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #re2 smut #re2 x reader #re2 leon #re2 leon x reader #re2 leon kennedy #resident evil fanfic #resident evil smut #ovaryacted fics #⋆♱ nic works ♱⋆

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narcissarina · 22 days

Note

I read a hilarious Reddit post of a guy saying “called my wife after I got shot and actually said ‘hey honey, I kinda got shot’ and she was mad I said it like that” and all I can picture is re2!Leon (maybe RC didnt get destroyed, so he’s a cute lil rookie) getting a call from his s/o and s/o is like, in the hospital or something and is like “Hey, just so you know there’s a dude with a gun mugging people. Oh btw, he tried to mug me and I kinda got shot”

Poor pookie is gonna be SO distraught.

LEON WOULD LAUGH AND CRY AT THE SAME TIME😭😭😭 making a short one shot outta this, sorry it took so long😭😭🙏

𝚂𝚑𝚘𝚝 𝙲𝚊𝚕𝚕

Leon was working a little late so he made sure to tell you, he’s finishing up his report and check his phone for the time. His thoughts drift you, he wonders how beautiful you sleep in your shared bed and how he’ll slowly get on bed—careful not to wake you up until your feel the bed weight shifts and turn to him and ask him that he just got home in a tired tone.

Files were stacked on his desk; messy and pens all over. He picked the papers he should organize, pens in its case. He yawns and keep himself awake with some coffee, he hums as he thought of you.

As if the noise seems to muffle, leaving Leon on his own in his world. His phone rang, snapping him back and took his phone. Its was your number on display, a big grin planted on his face as he picked up, “hey, baby. Need something?” he asked, his tone sweet and loving, “uhm…” your voice was heard from the end of his phone.

“Yeah, baby?”

“I’m in a hospital right now.” Before you could speak further, Leon hang up the call, adrenaline course through him.

Everything is clean in this room, you were lying in a hospital bed with the monitor beeping. You look down at your phone that shows Leon hang up on you, cutting you off before finishing what you had to say.

You place your phone down near the bed drawer and deeply inhales, you pick up a nurse shouting from outside your room, “sir, you can’t come in there!”

You flinched, tugging the blanket close to you as Leon burst right to the door—sweat running down his forehead, he’s out of breath as he spots you in the bed, “baby, what happened?” he asked, rushing to your side and squeezing your hand as he brought your knuckles to his lips.

“I just want to buy you your favorite food because I was planning to stay up late and wait for you on the dinner table.” He hums and nod, “yeah?”

“There was this dude who’s mugging people,” Leon raise a brow and nodded, “where is he?” he asked, going to call units to find the smuggler. “He tried to mug me and I kinda got shot.” Your lips turn to thin lines as Leon’s face dropped and his mouth open.

Silence comes between you as he let out a small, “huh?” he was distraught, “got shot.” You repeat and laugh it off, “don’t worry I’m—holy shit are you crying?” your tone changing to chill to concern, “are you okay?” he sniffle, he just couldn’t believe that you would laugh it off and go about your day.

He leans close and bury his head to your stomach, “Leon, I’m fine.” You assured, “no, you’re not fine.” He mumbles and you could feel warm liquids from your hospital gown, “I’m sorry, I’ll try to get off work as early as I can and be with you and won’t let this happen again.” He apologized to something he can’t control, you smiled at his warm words and assurance.

“There’s no need for that,” you said, “yes it do.” He insist and called up a friend back to R.P.D to catch the smuggler as he promised you to make that guy apologize for shooting and trying to mug you. What you kept in mind is Leon is just super worried and blamed himself when you get hurt and he’s not there to support you when it happen.

“You’re such a baby.”

“I’m your baby.” You earn a laugh from him as he pulls you into a sweet and tender kiss, “not going to lie, it was kind of funny—but it’s also not funny since you got shot.”

𝑳𝒂𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒏, 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒖𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒏.

#resident evil leon #leon x reader #leon scott kennedy #leon s kennedy x reader #leon resident evil #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy #leon re2 #leon s kennedy smut #leon s kennedy x you #he's my baby princess:3 #my pookie>-<#HE DOESN'T LIKE IT WHEN YOU'RE HURT😭😭😭🙏

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meiluu · 9 months

Text

Sleepy

Leon S. Kennedy NSFW one-shot

Leon S. Kennedy / Reader(AFAB) cw: soft morning SMUT 18+ MDNI, re:2 leon, no RC event.

*not edited

Quietly closing the door behind him, Leon breathes a sigh of relief. It was another late night patrol with the R.P.D, even though Leon was exhausted he would never grow tired of his job. Since he was orphaned at a young age he dreamed about becoming someone who could protect those who couldn't protect themselves, and he was able to do that with his job. Although he had only joined the force a year ago he has made his impact not only that but has made many friends along the way. And that included you.

Leon was still within his first week when he met you, cliché enough you both had bumped into one another. Leon had stupidly not been paying attention and had spilt his morning coffee all over you. And thankfully you hadn't beaten him for ruining what looked like a beautiful sun-dress. But Leon just couldn't let you walk away without repaying you, so that's when he had offered to get lunch sometime and by a miracle you accepted. And from there a relationship blossomed. You had become a rock, a pillar of reliability and comfort, something Leon had never had within his life. And now a year later your relationship has bloomed into a beautiful garden.

Gently taking off his boots, setting them aside next to your shoes he makes his way into the living room as he lays down his bag along with his belt and the rest of his gear. Then he's making his way to your shared bedroom. Leon's heart swells at the sight of you bundled up in the thick comforter, face snuggled into his pillow. A soft smile painting his face, stealthily Leon showers and readies himself for bed- happy that he's off for tomorrow and can sleep in with you. Reaching the bed, he pulls up the comforter cuddling himself around you. A sleepy sound leaves your lips, "Leon?" voice thick with sleep you turn towards his chest. "Hi baby, go back to sleep." whispering to you as he pulls you closer to him, relishing in your warmth. A soft 'I love you' is mumbled into his chest before you fall back asleep, "I love you too." placing a kiss atop your head Leon buries himself in your scent and is soon pulled under into a dreamless sleep.

The morning rays of the sun stream into the bedroom, a groan leaves Leon at being awakened. Turning away from the window he snuggles himself further into your chest. But before he can fall back asleep your voice is ringing through his mind. "Good morning grumpy." Leon lets out a grunt at your teasing, a soft laugh bubbles up from your chest at his antics. Hoping to better his mood you begin to place kisses upon his face. Starting at his messy bed head you trail your way down his face, past his furrowed brows, placing a light kiss atop his nose as you continue downwards not so subtly avoiding his pink lips that are just begging to be kissed. Voice a bit husky with sleep calls out your name, "Don't tease- it's too early." With a cheeky smile you continue your teasing, now your kisses have past his sharp jawline and are now mapping out the delicate skin of his neck. A familiar sound of pleasure tumbles from Leon's lips and not a moment later are you rolled onto your back, hands pinned beside your head. Leon has a smug smile painted upon his face, "You should know better baby, if you're not careful we’ll be in bed all day." A mischievous smile tugs at your cheeks, raising a brow "would that be such a bad thing?" Leon's lovely laugh fills the air around you both, and you can't help the genuine smile that takes up your face. Leaning down Leon finally gets what he has been deprived of, the feel of your lips against his has him shutting his eyes in relief.

It starts off slow and measured, Leon removes his hands from your wrists as he begins to caress your curves as he travels down to the hem of your-his- shirt. his warm and slightly calloused hands mapping out every inch of you. Mouths locked in a dance, taking the lead you nip at his plump bottom lip, and Leon gives into your request allowing your tongues to meet one another. Your hands are quick to crawl up his bare shoulders rising to his blond locks, carding your fingers through the soft strands. Taking your dance further, Leon's moving his lips down to your neck placing open mouth kisses upon your skin- relishing in your natural scent that does nothing to curb his want for you. With his mouth littering kisses his hands are massaging the swells of your breasts, your whimpers of pleasure reaches Leon's ears. Reaching the collar of your- his-shirt he takes a moment to look up at you, giving you the opportunity to stop this if you didn't want to go further. And Leon is met with your lust filled gaze, "Please, Leon." and that's all it takes for Leon to quickly remove the offending fabric from you body, finally Leon can now continue where he left off.

Mouth marking your skin, creating a beautiful constellation of hickeys across your skin. Then he's pulling the hard bud of your right breast into his warm mouth. Tongue swirling around the bud, a moan is quick to fall from your lips as your fingers tug on Leon's hair, eliciting a groan from him, mind and body buzzing with pleasure. After he's satisfied in his worship of your right breast he is moving onto the other breast- not wanting to leave it out of his loving devotion to your body. Giving it the same treatment as the other, with every swirl and flick of his tongue sending jolts of arousal to your core- no doubt dampening your panties. Once he finishes Leon is soon to move downwards, mouth lighting a fiery trail of pleasure down your stomach- past your navel, only stopping at the hem of your panties. His fingers are quick to remove the fabric just as fast as the shirt- eyes blown wide in a mix of lust and adoration his gaze locks with yours. Once again silently asking if he can continue, "Leon if you don't fuck me- I'll do it myself." voice filled with lust and frustration. "Yes ma'am." who was he to deny you? Whenever you asked-begged or made so much as an inkling that you wanted something Leon was quick to fill that, the same way you did for him. He was so in love you, and he planned on making sure you remembered that- always, even with the late night patrols or having to reschedule plans with his job he always made every moment with you count and this was no exception.

Raising his head level with yours, he's taking one of his hands dragging it down to your center. Fingers meeting your arousal, a throaty groan leaves Leon at the feeling, you were so wet for him. Slipping two fingers into you easily, your warm walls are quick to clamp down upon him. Pushing in until his fingers were completely within you, does he then finally start his movements. Deep but measured thrusts of his fingers in and out of your cunt has your whimpering in ecstasy. Taking his other hand, bringing it down to your bundle of nerves, putting just the right amount of pressure and swirling your clit underneath his fore and middle finger. Your moans are a beautiful melody that he'll never grow tired of listening to. Your cunt is soon to grip his fingers in a vice like grip, as you near your impending climax. "Fuck- cum on my fingers, please baby." Leon's voice is a needy whimper filled with lust and its sending you off that cliff straight into your orgasm. As your mind blanks with your orgasm, you are soon brought back down to earth as Leon's cooing words of encouragement and love begin to register within your mind.

"So good, that's it baby." Gently removing his fingers from your cunt he is bringing his wet digits up to mouth, letting himself taste the unmistakable flavor that is you. Leon is quick to remove his clothing- luckily it was only one piece of fabric, throwing his underwear to the side his cock now free. A sigh of relief falls from his pink lips, cock hard and aching to be within you. Precum has already smeared the tip of him no doubt leaving a wet patch upon his clothing- but Leon couldn't care less about that right now. Bringing his length to your core, taking a moment to grind his length into your arousal, wetting his cock. Though he is quick to push himself into you, taking steady breaths so that his doesn't cum too quickly. He lets his cock sink into you until he is flushed against you. Fuck, he will never get tired of this feeling- your inviting cunt hugging him, warm and wet just for him and only him.

Pulling his hips back, feeling his cock drag against your walls, stopping only when his tip is left within you does he then sink back into you. Deep and rhythmic thrusts, not slow but not fast either. Your arms are wrapping around his neck while your legs cage in his hips, encouraging him to go deeper- to go harder. A soft cry of his name has Leon's eyes leaving where they were watching himself disappear within you up to your eyes. Obeying your silent begging, Leon quickly brings his hands down your thighs raising your left thigh to rest against his chest- allowing him to reach deeper within you. His other hand gripping hard onto your right side, giving him the perfect leverage to fuck you into the bed. In and out, his harsh and deep thrusts has your head falling back into the pillow as your back arches up into Leon's chest. His mind-numbing sounds of pleasure has your cunt clenching down hard upon him- trying to keep him within you, never wanting him to leave. Taking his eyes away from the hypnotizing sight of your cunt taking all of him to the hilt every time he thrusts, rising to your face again he nearly cums at the sight before him. Your face is etched in pleasure, mouth open allowing for your sweet sounds to fall from your lips. And then you are throwing Leon right to the edge as you bring one of your hands down to swirl your clit as you near an earthshattering high. A curse accompanied with your name is cried out, as Leon feels your cunt rhythmically begin to quiver and squeeze around his cock. Leon's grip upon you tightens, undoubtedly leaving bruises for you to find later as he feels white hot pleasure roll down his back as his body tightens before he feels himself cuming within you. Pushing as far into you as possible grinding his length as he paints your inner walls with his cum.

Slowly his grinding comes to a stop as you both finish riding out your highs, he is gently setting your thigh down against the sheets. And just as Leon goes to remove his now softening cock to clean you both up- you are quick to latch onto him. "Stay- just a bit longer, please."

"Of course." leaving himself within you, his arms wrap around your torso. There he settles himself atop of you, placing feather-light kisses against your neck. "I love you." your lips are placing a kiss upon his temple, "I love you too Leon."

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sickophantic · 4 months

Text

𝘴𝘶𝘨𝘢𝘳𝘺 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘵 ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

pairing. stalker!leon / afab! reader

warnings. stalking, kidnapping, noncon, probably other stuff but idkk, read at your own risk

word count. 4,644

note. i like, haven't written anything for ummm half a year,, but i'm super excited about this fic!! started it almost two months ago and i finally finished it :33

Poor baby, haven’t been taking care of yourself for weeks; haven’t been eating or sleeping and barely going out for groceries, always staying inside except for work, leaving the house early in the morning and returning home at 2 a.m. Poor girl’s been coming back so late just for a shower, a quick, shitty dinner or a cup of tea, and after that straight to bed, day after day after day. And of course, Leon noticed what it was doing to you immediately: your sunken eyes from the late hours and the graveyard shifts, the dull skin from all your forgotten skincare, God, all those products collecting dust in your little bathroom, and the way your flesh was starting to cling to your bones, oh you poor thing. He couldn’t have that happen to his angel, absolutely not.

Sitting on the bed, watching you, something broke in him every time he saw you all teary eyed and tired, scrolling through your phone, looking through all your contacts. It’d happen almost nightly, after work and after a shower, all of you but your face hidden in the cold cover of the darkness, your quivering lips and your matted eyelashes limned by the blue light of your phone, your finger hovering over your friends’ numbers as you debated with yourself. He’d see the way your brow furrowed as you weighed the risk of opening up to people who should care about you, but fuck if it actually felt like it. So you’d just sigh, suck in a breath, and set your phone on the bed table and fumble in the darkness to find its charger, before shutting your eyes, preparing for next day’s hell.

He’d watch you breathe for a little while, his own eyes intent on his screen, before he’d shut the app and set his phone down. It was like a nightly routine at this point. He’d come home from the R.P.D., and every day, his heart would soften when he’d check on you, watch you through the cameras he installed and see how lonely and apathetic and pathetic you were. Poor baby had no one. Just made it even more obvious how much you needed him.

When you’d skipped dinner for the third time that week, he decided enough was enough. He didn’t want to, of course he didn’t, but he’d have to take drastic measures. Just, take you away for a little bit. Temporary, of course. Just until you got your things together. He was helping you. You’d see that. That’s why today, he slipped into your apartment with a copied key and stirred something special into your tea.

Sweet thing came home late, rubbing your bleary eyes and yawning, throwing your keys somewhere by the door, slipping your coat off and heading to the kitchen, wanting to microwave your day-old tea. Waited thirty seconds for the microwave to beep. He watched on his phone as you put creamer and sugar in your tea and downed it quickly. You always liked things sweet. You took a shower and stumbled into bed, all sluggish and soft, falling asleep almost immediately.

A few minutes later, the front door opened, letting in the dim, yellow light from the hallway and a pair of silent footsteps. He took his coat off, setting it gently on the rack, slipping his shoes off quietly before stealing into your room. His heart fluttered when he saw you, the only sound in the room your soft breathing and the only movement the light rises and falls of your chest.

He sat next to you on the bed, feeling the way the mattress dipped beneath him, and placed a hand on your cheek, rubbing small circles into your skin. He watched you for a while, resting his arm on your shoulder and gazing down at you, fingers playing with your hair or knuckles grazing across your face, before he smiled. He’d be good to you, real good. Treat you like a princess, just the way you deserved. No more stress, no more hard work. Just smile and look pretty. He wanted you so bad, fuck, even right now, but he promised himself to take it real soft, real slow, real sweet. Just for you, his perfect girl.

His heart almost stopped when he saw your eyes open, eyelashes fluttering, cheeks flushed. He’d been sitting on his bed, admiring your sleeping form, lightly rubbing small circles onto your cheeks with the backs of his knuckles, just like last night. Except, now you were really here, in his bed, with him. Made him want to kiss you and hold you and fuck you, all at once. Couldn’t do that yet, though. But God, he was so excited to see you, couldn’t stop himself from thinking about you, had to pull himself away from work cause he couldn’t get anything done, even made you breakfast in bed. But seeing your waking face not be that of immediate adoration, even though that’d be a little insane to ask for, broke his heart. Seeing your eyes widen and your brows furrow as your mind raced to explain where the hell you where and how this happened made his chest tighten with guilt. Poor baby. He’d make it better, make it all better, pinkie promise.

“Hi, hi.” He cooed, still caressing your cheek. Immediately, you flinched backwards, finally noticing him. But he kept going, keeping his voice quiet, low, like he was talking to a frightened, injured animal. “‘m Leon, okay? Don’t be afraid, just gonna take care of you, sweetheart.”

You opened your mouth to speak, to scream out, to cry for mercy, to beg to be let go, he couldn’t tell, but instead, with a small, cracked voice, you asked, “What?”

He moved his hand upwards, rubbing circles with the pad of his thumb on your temple. He saw the way your eyes were glossing over and the way your eyebrows scrunched and the way your lips trembled beneath him and he felt so terrible for doing this to you but at the same time you looked so fucking pretty he wanted to do it over and over again. Shit. He didn’t mean to think that way, that was so mean. Didn’t mean to, not at all. It was an accident, honest. He sucked in a breath, realizing he’d been visibly hesitating for a few seconds. Remembering what he was trying to do, he reached behind him, grabbing a fork and a plate, still a little warm, bringing a piece up to your mouth. “Just wanna take care of you, baby.” He spoke softly, trying to hide all his earlier thoughts. “It's just French toast. Nothing else in it.” He promised.

You grimaced. "No."

He opened his mouth to try to reason with you, explain that he just made it and there really was nothing in it and you needed to eat, but he could tell you were scared. He swallowed, setting the plate aside. He scooted a little closer on the bed and kept talking, all soft and sweet, “Haven’t been looking after yourself for the past month, have you?” He asked. “Just wanna help you, angel. Don’t need anything in return. No work, no chores, nothing, okay?” He murmured.

He watched your face for a few seconds, expression twisting from panic to confusion to disbelief. “What the fuck are you talking about?” You whispered, all hissy and teary eyed and confused and scared. “Oh my God, what, you can’t, fuck, what are you talking about?” You repeated, almost incoherent.

He just shushed you gently, placing a thumb to your lips. “Shhh. I told you. 'm just gonna take care of you.” He cooed.

You squirmed uncomfortably beneath him, trying to escape out from under him only to have his wrap land around your throat, pressing lightly enough to hurt only a little but enough to warn you to stop squirming. He hated squirming. He felt bad, really bad for threatening his poor girl, but your reaction was starting to be a little frustrating. He sighed. “C’mon, it’s not that bad. Just gonna keep you here for a little, unless you wanna stay more,” he smiled. “Get you back on your feet, sweetheart.”

For some reason, you suddenly stilled. He noticed, and he also noticed the way your entire expression grew dazed, but he just kept on talking, almost rambling, enjoying your silence and your stillness, kept murmuring sweet nothings to you, his perfect, perfect girl. He was telling you how much he loved you and how long he’d been waiting to take you home and just how God damn excited he was when you interrupted him.

“I’m gonna,” you stuttered. “‘m gonna throw up.”

The sounds of your dry heaving over the empty toilet were the only sounds in that bathroom, echoing, bouncing off the walls. Sick, pitiful noises. Leon leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, as you gripped the sides of the toilet like your life depended on it, knuckles turned white from the pressure and the rest of your appearance disheveled. He knew what you were thinking, knew that you were panicking about the fact you’d never met him before and who the hell was he and Jesus was he a psycho? And was he in love with you? Oh God, what was he saying about you not taking care of yourself? Was he watching you? Must’ve been watching you, or how else would he know? He saw you wretch even harder. Nothing came out. He grimaced.

“It’s not that bad, baby. Promise.” He said, approaching slowly. You were sobbing now, not even trying to vomit anymore. Not like you could, anyways. “C’mon,” he asked, tone dropping a little. Your chest rose and fell faster. Frightened little thing.

“Fuck,” you whispered, voice cracking, and he couldn’t tell if it was because he just kidnapped you or because nothing was coming up. You sat back from the toilet, crawling backwards into the corner farthest from Leon, mumbling, begging, crying something like go away go away please please please. You kept on repeating yourself, sometimes stopping to swallow and bringing a hand up to your chest or your throat because it hurt so bad or maybe you just couldn't breathe. He was trying to comfort you, let you know he wouldn’t hurt you and he loved you and it was okay and you were okay, but you just kept curling further in to yourself, crying now replacing the sounds of your dry heaving, face all red and eyes a little puffy and voice completely broken as you begged about something, but at this point you were just incoherent.

Leon stepped forward and you flinched back, and he let out a little sigh, leaning against the bathroom wall and staring at your poor, shivering form, brushing his hand through his hair, completely exasperated, and thinking What am I going to do with you?

- A few hours earlier, he was stirring coffee in the breakroom, absently glancing up at the television, when he recognized a familiar pair of tired eyes. Huh, he thought. He sipped his coffee as he watched your parents crying on live television, almost incoherent, recounting all the details he already knew about you. He felt a little pang in his heart, knowing that he took away these people's only child, only daughter, but it was for the best, wasn't it? He was taking such good care of you, and though you would never admit it, he could see the way you were slowly brightening up, the way life was returning to your drained body. He was doing a good thing. He was a good person.

Now, a little later, with keys jingling in his finger, he whistled softly, listening to the small click as the door unlocked and he slipped inside quietly. It’d been about two weeks since he’d… kidnapped? you. He wouldn’t say kidnapped, maybe taken instead. It’d been two weeks since he’d taken you. Sounds a little better. He pulled his shoes off by the door, debating whether or not to call out to you that he was home. It was dark already, so you were probably hiding, shivering under his blankets and clutching that little bear he’d bought you, as if that’d stop him from finding you. He sighed a little. This was taking longer than he thought it would. Would’ve thought you’d have at least warmed up to him by this point.

There were only two lights on, one above him and the other a little farther away by the dining table, leaving the rest of the room in a semi-darkness. He saw your half eaten bowl on the kitchen counter. He yawned, setting his coat on the rack and slipping his keys into his back pocket. He’d have to hide them later. Remembering an earlier text from Chris, he leaned against the wall, taking out his phone to check his messages. He watched the loading sign, watched it swirl and swirl and swirl around nothing. Finally loaded. He tapped on Chris’s icon and skimmed something about a work party. He yawned again. He’d deal with it tomorrow. He was slipping his phone into his other pocket when he heard your voice, soft and strangely deferent. “Leon?” you asked.

He looked up, a little surprised to see you standing there, your silhouette outlined by the light behind you. He was surprised to see you in one of his shirts, completely oversized on your frame. He realized it’d already been a few seconds, passing by with him just staring at you. It wasn’t a bad thing, though. You were just so pretty, how could he not? When he finally snapped himself out of his daze, he yawned again, “Yeah, baby?”, finding himself walking instinctively towards you.

You were fidgeting with your fingers. Your eyes darted from him to the door, from him to the door. Can’t be asking to leave now, can you? Or maybe you were asking for something. He was about to prompt you to finish what you’d started when you finally spoke up.

“I felt…felt really lonely today.” You murmured, looking down at the floor, at your bare feet on the cold ground. Kicked at the ground a little. “Missed you. Didn’t um…” you trailed a little, eyes wandering slightly upwards. “Didn’t know what to do.”

Huh, he thought. His heart fluttered a little at your words, making his chest feel warm and light. He smiled at you. “That’s sweet. Missed you too, missed you so much.” He said. “Was thinking of you the whole day, angel.” He was standing right above you now.

For some reason, he thought he saw you grimace a little. But it was a momentary thing. He probably imagined it. You finally looked up at him, finally made eye contact for more than a split second. He could tell you wanted to say more, that what he said wasn't exactly what you hoped for. What you did want? He didn’t know.

Looking down at you, he stared in silent anticipation, in absolute adoration. His heart fluttered. Just as he lifted his hand up to brush away a stray hair on your cheek, you leaned into him, wrapping your arms around his torso and burying your face in the dip between his neck and shoulder. He huffed in surprise a little, holding you against him as you shivered.

"Really missed me, huh?" He laughed, rubbing circles against your back. He was so happy. So happy he could die.

He held you against him until you pulled away, looking up at him with your perfect doe eyes, asking him to come to bed with you. Nothing sexual, you just wanted someone near you. His heart jumped, and so did his dick, but he nodded, willing to ignore his needs for yours. He promised to join you soon, watching you pad off to his bedroom, needing to go finish some nightly chores. He headed to his office, brain so full of rushing, giddy thoughts that he didn't notice the unusual quietness when he walked or even the strange emptiness in his back pocket.

You were dragging your nails down his skin like some feral animal, nose red and cheeks flushed and eyelashes all wet and matted, tears freely flowing down from your pretty doe eyes. He grabbed you from behind, placing a hand over your mouth to muffle your cries as you sobbed and weakly writhed against him. He held you close to him, hand on your face and an arm wrapped around your waist. He was about to say something, to tell you just how disappointed, how pissed off he was, when his voice caught. A minute ago, maybe two, he'd found you at 3 a.m. in the morning, fucking with his front door and his keys, you ungrateful idiot, yet here he was now, tongue tied. He barely got a syllable out before he stopped himself, cursing you when he realized he was getting all breathy, his face flushing a little, his pants growing tighter. Fuck, was he getting off to this? That’s sick. He was sick. He was getting off to the idea, no, to the sight of you choking. Made him feel all warm and fluffy inside for all the wrong reasons. Actually, he was getting off to the idea of raping someone. Jesus, Leon. Fuck. He was getting off to the idea of raping you. Damn.

He held you against his chest, staggering backwards to lean against the wall for support. He hissed curses under his breath next to your ear, warning you to keep still. He couldn't stand squirming. Made things so much more difficult. It was hot though. God damn. Fuck. Fuck. He wanted to scream. Shout at you, maybe. He didn't know. Hearing your muffled pleas, something stirred within him, pent up and tired and angry, and for some sick reason, he didn't lift his palm from your mouth, instead wrapping his arm around your neck, pressing your windpipe in between his forearm and bicep, hissing in your ear, "Shut the fuck up."

He sucked in a breath, closing his eyes, ignoring your begging and yet at the same time reveling in it. He needed to think. Needed to think about what the fuck he was doing. He felt you hiccup against him, felt your warm tears drip onto his cold skin, and Jesus Christ his dick was harder than ever. He loosened his grip on your throat, hearing you gasping for breath, not even trying to beg him to stop. He slumped a little, guilt climbing up from the depths of his wretched soul. He was still breathing hard.

When did you get his keys? He heard you sobbing apologizes now. How the fuck did you manage to snatch them without him noticing? He was running through all his interactions with you recently, unable to pinpoint when, where, how, until he remembered what happened just a couple hours ago. Oh. Oh.

"Feeling sorry, angel? Or feeling guilty?" He murmured into your ear, fighting to keep his tone flat. He was irritated enough that he had to stumble out of bed at three in the fucking morning, pissed that when he was still rubbing the blurriness from his eyes he found you trying each of his keys and still somehow failing at unlocking a fucking door, but at the same time, he was hurt, betrayed that you had tried to leave him, even entertained the passing thought of escape.

"Sorry, sorry, 'm so, so sorry," you sobbed against him, breathing erratic and your entire body shaking. What a mess. You could barely stand.

"Really?" His voice dropped. "Sorry for waking me up at three in the fucking morning? Sorry for stealing my keys? Sorry for lying to me, for betraying me?" For some reason, he couldn't feel anger at your escape attempt. Not like he wasn't angry, though. No, he was angry, but not because of that. You lied to him. Said you missed him in that sweet voice, looked up to him with those big, innocent eyes, shivered against him and said you missed him, all just for some bigger plan. He was almost disgusted.

He heard your incoherent, pathetic pleas for mercy. He wasn't hearing you out, though. He grabbed you, tossing you over his shoulders and headed to his bedroom.

He kicked the door shut and threw you down onto the mattress, watching you cry and shiver and open your mouth to scream. Nothing would come out, though. He felt his hands fumble with his belt, with his jean's zipper. He dimmed the lights. Maybe he wouldn't feel as bad if he couldn't see your face. Maybe.

He found himself crawling on top of you, slipping his hands up your shirt. He wanted to be mad, wanted to be able to take out his anger on you, choke you and slap you and bruise you and bite you, mark you as his, fuck you so hard you wouldn't ever think of escaping again, but he couldn't. He couldn't bring himself to hurt you, even when you deserved it. At least not that way. He cursed you under his breath as his hands found your breasts, kneading and grabbing and even twisting your nipple between his thumb and index. You cried out, all pathetic, squirming beneath him. His heart softened, just a little.

"Shh, don't cry. Don't cry." He murmured against your ear. He heard your loud swallows, and looking at you, looking into your eyes, he saw your lovely, naïve face twisted into one of pure terror. Maybe even disgust. He felt so bad, but it wasn't his fault. He tried to be so good to you, treat you all soft and sweet, take it real slow, make it romantic, make it easy. But he was just a man. You committed the crime. It wasn't his fault. Not his fault. He heard himself groan a little, even as your hands pitifully shoved against his chest, even as you tearfully begged him to stop. He was just a man.

The bed creaked, and you cried, and his breathing just kept getting heavier and heavier. He tried to ignore the slight tightening of his throat, the just noticeable watering of his eyes. He couldn't hurt you. He couldn't. But he was, he was hurting you in the worst way possible. His heart broke as he watched you flinch, but his dick somehow hardened every time you sobbed, as you somehow tightened with every wince.

He gripped your hips to pull you up against him with each thrust, and at the same time tried to ignore the way you gripped the sheets, knuckles white, face frozen in pain and pleasure and fear. He had to stop himself from crying a little. You felt so wonderful, though, looked so pretty, even now. He leaned his forehead against yours, felt you rock beneath him. "Sorry, 'm so sorry," he murmured with each thrust, voice clouded by lust, apologetic even as he raped you. He still loved you. Really did. But still, he didn't stop, shutting his eyes instead as if that would make all his guilt disappear.

You'd been acting nicer for the past two weeks. Compliant, deferent, soft and malleable. Your voice was always low, sometimes to the point he'd have to ask you to repeat. You didn't say much anymore, not like you did before. There was a heaviness in your movement, like everything you did was a struggle. He'd notice it when you woke up, with the morning light streaming in through the window, his arm wrapped around you, holding you close to him, and you just wouldn't move. He'd brush his nose against your neck, murmuring soft Good morning's and How're you feeling?'s, but you just wouldn't move. You'd sit there like a corpse, cold and apathetic, yet your flesh was still so warm and your skin so soft.

He'd wonder about that while he brewed your morning tea, watching you slump against the dining room chairs, staring out the window, staring into stillness. He'd talk to you the whole time, trying so hard to coerce some sort of response other than your one word answers or your quiet hums, but nothing would come out. Your eyes were constantly glazed over, like an unending cloudy day. It wasn't all bad, though. All those jokes about women existing to be looked at, not to be heard? You were just that. He was just a man, you know.

He came home from work a few hours ago, whistling, keys jingling as he spun them on his fingers. Now, you were curled up together on the couch, your back to his chest, engulfed by the darkness of the early winter night like a heavy blanket, your form illuminated only by the blue light of the TV. He had some random local channel on. It didn't matter. Only you mattered.

After that incident, you stopped squirming in his arms, stopped trying to escape his grip or lose his touch. Instead, you just sat there like a pretty doll, just like you were meant to. You let your entire body weight slump against him, let your head rest in the crevice between his neck and shoulders. He pet your hair, brushing his fingers through each strand, gently detangling. He wrapped his arms around your torso to hold you close to him, and he hummed in contentment. "Missed you, baby." He watched your head slowly perk up to look at him, expression all dazed and dumb. So pretty. "What'd you do today?" he murmured quietly, looking into your glassy eyes and brushing away a stray hair.

You had a neutral expression on your face as you thought the question over. It took you a few seconds to respond. "Slept."

The TV, which he vaguely recognized to be playing a news channel, buzzed in the background. He laughed a little at your response. It made him so happy that you even spoke. "Really? Slept all day, but you still look so tired." He teased, almost commenting on the growing bags beneath your eyes but holding himself back. You just nodded in response, laying your head back down on his shoulders.

One hand rubbing soothing circles on your back and the other still playing with your hair, his mind started to drift. Not to anything in particular, though. He wondered what that secretary at work was writing down, what Chris and Wesker were talking about, just little, curious things. He felt your breathing slow, and he suddenly felt so warm inside, knowing that you could fall asleep against him. His breath right against your ear, he murmured, "Night, sweetheart," and looked up at the TV, noticing a missing person's report.

A random boy returned his gaze. The camera panned to shots of a forest, and a news reporter recounted all the details. Name? Jack Reed. Age? Seven years old. Last sighting? Three days ago, heading into the woods for some reason, somewhere. Leon didn't care. What he did care about, though, was that this meant that the world had already moved on. Everyone had stopped looking. Or at least, the public gaze had already shifted. Now, they were looking for someone new. And the week after that, someone else. And with each passing week, the world would forget about you, and that just left more for him. So he just kept on brushing his fingers through your hair, humming quietly to himself. You were his girl now, his perfect, perfect girl, and maybe he hadn't made it real soft, hadn't taken it real slow, maybe even the opposite, but at least now, he could make it real sweet.

#sicko's #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #stalker leon kennedy #kidnapper leon kennedy #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x y/n #writing ೃ⁀➷

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kurosaaki · 1 year

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LOVEGAME — LEON S. KENNEDY

SUMMARY: it’s been 15 years since the Raccoon City outbreak happened, and you wonder why Leon still has his R.P.D. handcuffs if he doesn’t use them at all, so you ask him. And he decides to show you why he still has them.

WARNINGS: smut— soft dom!leon, vaginal sex, bondage (use of handcuffs), roleplay (policeman & bad girl), brat taming, teasing, oral sex, creampie, basically porn without too much plot lol.

WC: 3K

TAGS: @antidesire, @whore-era & esp @rxllingstones <3

A/N: i love leon so much. it was time for me to write him finally. i had re6 leon in my mind while i wrote this. as always, support and reblogs are appreciated! NOT PROOFREAD, so apologies if there’s any mistake.

It all started as a game.

A joke.

A "playful little joke".

"You still have those handcuffs from your rookie days, Leon?"

Leon turned his gaze to where you were. You were not far from him, in fact, you were close to him, only your eyes were glued to his leather belt, where he carried those handcuffs from the R.P.D.

It was easy to tell those were from the R.P.D., as they had a little inscription on them. You wondered why he had them in the first place, given the fact that he didn't really need them in his actual job right now. They could be helpful on some occasions, like for interrogating a subject right at the moment and keeping them still, but...his job wasn't exactly that.

Handcuffs weren't required at all in your job, so...why did he have them?

You still decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. In the end, Leon's a very strategic, intelligent man, and you were sure he had a reason to carry them every day with him.

But you couldn't help asking him directly. It did make you curious.

"Well, yeah" he answers as if the reason was obvious, "You never know when they'll come in handy on a mission, right?"

Maybe he was right, you thought. But something deep inside you told you that it wasn't just as simple as that. There had to be another reason.

"Such an odd question to ask, don't you think?

You chuckled. You knew perfectly well that work was not a reason to have them. The way Leon was trying to hide his cheeky smile was also an indicator that you might be right. Still, you wanted to remain discreet.

There were no secrets between you and Leon. You've been his partner for 2 long years now, mission after mission, you eventually get to know the person you're working with. Even more so now that he was your boyfriend. Secrets had no space in your relationship.

Or so you thought.

"Such an odd reason to have them when our work doesn't require them, don't you think?" you playfully mocked him, copying his words with a sly look on your face.

Touché.

He chuckled, looking at the handcuffs. After all, you weren't dumb and it was obvious. No matter how much he tried to hide it, the truth is that Leon didn't keep those handcuffs out of nostalgia or utility.

"I keep 'em for a reason," he said, glaring at you from across the room.

You could see a wicked grin peek out of his lips as he toyed with the handcuffs. His fingertips wandered over the metal, being too careful to not damage them--and your mind couldn't stay sane at the sight of it. Leon was playing with you. He was practically screaming for you to keep feeding into this conversation.

"And, you know..." he slowly approached you, holding the handcuffs with his fingers "I've been wanting to try these out for a while now," he whispered, his voice low and seductive. "I bet you'd look amazing in them."

Your heart raced as his words sent a shiver down your spine. You tried to stay composed, but it was getting harder and harder to resist him. Leon had always been good at pushing your buttons just right, and now he had you exactly where he wanted you. He cornered you when you were the one starting everything.

"Oh, yeah?" you tilted your head "You want to arrest me, Officer Kennedy? Have I been a bad girl?"

Leon's eyes sparkled with lust at the sound of his name in your innocent tone of voice. If there was one thing Leon always regretted, it was that he never became an official police officer because of the outbreak in Raccoon City 15 years ago.

But maybe that was about to change today thanks to you.

"Oh, you have no idea" he chuckled, his pupils dilatating at the thought of you handcuffed and at his mercy "You've been a very, very bad girl"

You couldn't help but shiver at his words. As much as you tried to resist him, you were completely under his spell. You had never felt this way about anyone before, and the thought of exploring this new side of yourself with Leon was both terrifying and exhilarating.

"I'm sorry I've been a bad girl, Officer Kennedy" you pout, "I promise I didn't mean it"

"Nuh-uh" he shook his head, grinning as he heard you say his name again. "You're not sorry at all"

It was like music to his ears, and your "innocent, clueless girl" facade only drove him crazier. He was feeling his blood rush through his whole body, the sudden sense of power he had over you when playing this "silly game" was taking over you little by little.

Suddenly, his lips were extremely close to your neck, feeling his breath against your skin, noticing how your body became stiff, earning a smile from him.

"You know what I do with bad girls like you?" he says, hearing his deep voice next to your ear right now, "I teach them lessons. I make 'em learn"

You shivered at his words, feeling a mixture of fear and excitement course through you. You knew that Leon could be intense, but you had never seen him like this before. It was like he was a completely different person when he had you under his control.

"What kind of lessons?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Leon chuckled, the sound sending shivers down your spine. "Oh, you'll see," he said, his hands trailing down your body, stopping at your waist, "But first, let's see just how well you can follow instructions."

He leaned in close, his lips brushing against yours. "Undress yourself. Then I want you to put your hands behind your back and walk over to the bed," he whispered, sensing a smile from him.

Oh, he was enjoying this.

You hesitated for a moment, unsure of what was about to happen. But the look in Leon's eyes told you that he wasn't going to take no for an answer.

So you did as he said, following his orders. You got rid of your shirt, followed by your jeans and shoes, leaving your bra and panties on. You put your hands behind your back and walked over to the bed. Leon followed close behind, his hands on your hips as he guided you.

You had no idea what Leon had in store for you, but you were eager to find out. With a wicked grin, he raised the handcuffs, and without a warning, he snapped them shut around your wrists, the metal clinking together with a satisfying sound.

"Are they too tight for you, love?" he asked, his hands placed on your hips.

"A little bit..."

"Good" he chuckled, and unlike you thought, he didn't bother to adjust them. "Let's see if you can learn your lesson. Turn around, let me see you"

You felt a rush of excitement as you turned around, trying to avoid his piercing gaze. You could feel his eyes on your whole body, and you shivered at the thought of what was about to happen.

Without a warning, you felt a sharp sting across your ass as Leon brought his hand down hard. You cried out in surprise, but the pain quickly turned to pleasure as he continued to spank you.

"Is that what you want, love?" he asked, his voice rough with desire.You could only nod, too caught up in the moment to form words.

Leon's hand continued to rain down on you, each slap sending waves of pleasure through your body.Finally, he stopped, his hand still resting on your ass.

"You're such a bad girl," he said, his voice deeper now, "You need to learn how to behave. Shouldn't be asking nosy questions..." You could feel his breath against your skin, and you moaned softly as he leaned in and kissed your neck.

You were completely under his spell, unable to resist his touch.As he continued to kiss and touch you, you felt yourself growing more and more aroused. You knew that you were completely at his mercy, and that thought only made you want him more.

Leon pushed you down onto the bed after getting rid of your bra, unclasping it with just one hand. The soft mattress gave beneath you, your eyes glued to him as he leaned down and whispered in your ear.

"Now, I want you to spread your legs for me," he commanded, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses over your neck, and down your breasts until he reached your panties.

Your heart raced as you spread your legs, feeling too exposed and vulnerable in front of him. You always felt this way with Leon, but deep down you had a sense of security when you were in such vulnerable positions like these. He always made you feel protected, but you couldn't help but feel butterflies each time he went down on you.

Leon's hot breath tickled your inner thighs as he leaned in closer, his lips tantalizingly close to your center. You could feel his warm breath against your sensitive skin, and your heart was racing with anticipation.

You closed your eyes, letting out a soft moan as Leon's tongue flicked across your clothed clit. He knew exactly how to touch you, how to make you feel alive and he knew how to fuel the fire inside you.

Leon left little kisses on your inner thighs, while his thumb made circles on your clit. Although you were not fully aware of it, you were gradually getting more and more wet, soaking your panties as Leon enjoyed this moment, not giving any importance to your aching desire to feel his tongue.

You couldn't help but move your hips forward, trying to satiate your thirst to feel him close to you.

"S'okay pretty, I got you" he whispered, and he immediately grabbed your panties and took them away, throwing them onto the floor.

Leon grabbed your legs and pulled you closer to the edge of the bed. He lowered himself down, resting his knees on the floor as he made sure to put your thighs over his shoulders, bringing your pussy closer to his face. His hands gripped your thighs tightly as he took advantage of such position and started to eat you out like you were water in the desert, and he was thirsty.

You swore if you weren't cuffed right now, your hands would be running through his hair, pulling it and caressing it as he ate you out. But the only thing you were physically able to do now was thrust your hips into his tongue, begging for more of him.

He licked and sucked at your clit, his tongue driving you wild with pleasure. You even felt dizzy as his wet muscle worked you up, occasionally stopping licking you and leaving kisses on your clit, just to begin lapping on it again.

It was swaying of pleasure you couldn't resist.

As he worked his magic, you felt yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. Your body was trembling with need, and you could feel your orgasm building deep inside you.

"Are you getting close, baby?" he asked as if the answer wasn't obvious, "You think you deserve to cum, hm?"

"Yes!" you nodded as he kissed your clit, covering his lips with your juices, "Please, I need it!"

You felt him chuckle, and he went back to eating you out again. This time, Leon didn't try to hold back or try to edge you—he was going to make you cum right on the spot. He grabbed your legs again, securing his grip on your thighs to avoid you from closing them. With each drag of his tongue, you were a step closer to the brink of orgasm.

Oh, how you wish you weren't cuffed right now.

"I'm- I'm gonna cum! Oh, fuck!" you whined out in pleasure, biting your lip as hard as you could, clenching your fists furiously in pleasure.

"Do it, baby" he growled, his voice sending you vibrations and making your body shiver "Cum for me"

Finally, you couldn't hold back any longer. Your body convulsed with pleasure as Leon continued to lick and suck at your clit, sending you over the edge into blissful ecstasy.

As you came down from your high, you felt Leon's hands massage your shaking thighs. You tried to calm your breathing while he gave you a "time out". Leon stood up and leaned closer to your weakened body, kissing all over your skin tenderly.

He stopped for a moment when his face came up high enough to look at you. He lingered for a few seconds as he watched your eyes close and open a while later, noticing how your pupils dilated in pleasure. He let out a small laugh and kissed you deeply, only to leave you breathless again.

"Just so you know," he kissed your nose, "I'm not done with you"

When he said that, Leon lifted you off the bed, grabbing your body with his arms to keep you from falling down your shaky legs.

It looked like he wasn't going to give you any rest today.

"Have you learned your lesson, pretty?" he asked you, pressing your body against his due to the grip he had on your waist. Seeing how you couldn't even form a word, he decided to tease you a bit more, "Speak up"

"Y-Yeah" you nodded, not really sure of what his answer was going to be.

"You don't seem very sure of that" he replied, feeling your body tremble against his, "You think it's okay to ask an officer such nosy questions, huh? What do you think was gonna happen if you asked why I had these handcuffs?"

"Fuck, Leon" You couldn't stand not feeling him. You needed to feel him with you as fast as possible, you didn't want to put up with his game anymore, no matter how much you liked it.

"It's Officer Kennedy to you, miss" The smug look in his eyes increases, like he's proud of himself, of the good work he's doing.

He traced his fingers down your arm, sending sparks of pleasure through your body. You couldn't help but let out a soft moan, and Leon chuckled in response.

"You like this, don't you?" he said, his lips hovering just inches from yours. "Being under my control..."

Oh, you were completely under his spell. Leon had a way of making you feel alive like no one else could, and you were helpless to resist him. You wouldn't be able to resist him even if you were paid to.

He leaned in and pressed his lips to yours, the kiss sending waves of pleasure through your body. You kissed him back eagerly, losing yourself in the moment. Leon's hands wandered all over your body, pressing you against his hard boner, feeling it through his pants.

For a while, all you could focus on was the feel of his lips on yours and the touch of his hands on your body. You were completely lost in the pleasure he was giving you, and you didn't care about anything else in the world.

But eventually, reality came crashing back in. You remembered that you were still cuffed and that you were at Leon's mercy. You pulled away from the kiss, panting heavily.

"You're not getting out of those cuffs anytime soon" Leon looked at you with a smirk plastered on his face.

"Please, Officer Kennedy," you whined, "Take the handcuffs off, I just- I need to touch you"

He has the same slightly amused smirk on his face when you ask him to take the handcuffs off. He starts to move his hands. They slowly move towards your hands, like he's about to take the handcuffs, but the slight smirk never leaves his face in the slightest. He's like a cat that caught a mouse, and now he's just playing with it and can't really stop. He just keeps looking at it, playing with it, staring straight into its eyes.

"You're in my custody, are you not?" He asks in a calm, confident, mocking tone.

He still has that look on his face. He's still flirting with you, his cocky smirk plastered on his face like he's trying to hide those feelings and just be calm and collected like a good cop.

You were so close from losing your mind.

But you were loving it so much.

"Y-yes, but..."

"I'm not done with you," he says with a stern look on his face, and suddenly his serious cop facade has returned, "Face against the wall"

You swallowed hard. You were used to Leon giving you orders while you were doing it, it didn't bother you how he handled you as he pleased, but...seeing him this serious, into his cop role, was something you would have never really imagined and you even fantasized about knowing what he was capable of now that he had given you such an order.

Your face was now against the wall as he wished.

You heard him unbuckle his belt, too shy to turn around no matter how much you wanted to and watch him do it. You could only imagine how he did it and that only turned you on more.

Leon got rid of his shirt as well, and finally, when he got closer to you, he got rid of his pants and his boxers as well.

You gasped when you felt his hard cock against you. He chuckled, leaving kisses along your back and your shoulders. His fingertips wandered all over your body, bringing his index finger down your spine, stopping where your hands were cuffed, grabbing the handcuffs with his hand now, he positioned himself on your entrance.

"Fuck, you're tight" he groaned, throwing his head back for a moment.

His free hand rested on your waist, and he began to thrust into you. Slowly, savoring every part of you, letting you get used to his length--even if it wasn't your first time with him.

You began to grind your hips against him, letting him know you were ready for more, and he picked up on the signal quickly.

He couldn't wait any longer.

He began thrusting deeper this time, hearing your sweet cries of pleasure each time he reached your spot. He had your body memorized, every single part of you.

He could only concentrate on the swaying of his hips, wet, messy sounds filling the room you both shared. You were careless of being heard by anyone at this point, too blinded by the pleasure of his balls slapping your cunt frenetically.

Even if your body looked so fragile, so tired and so worn out after that first orgasm, the truth is that you only wanted more and more from him. You couldn't care if your legs were about to give out, if your muscles were now sore--it wasn't enough. You needed him.

"Fucking hell, baby" his voice cracked when your walls clenched around him, his sloppy thrusts driving you crazier now "You love this, huh? You like me fucking you from behind, huh? Makes you feel like a naughty girl, right?"

"Fuck, yes!" you screamed in pleasure, closing your eyes to concentrate on just the feeling of his cock deep inside you, "harder, Leon!"

"Is that an order, little one?" he chuckled, his face now close to your ear, bringing your body close to his, pushing the handcuffs towards him, "I'm the one in charge here, remember?"

It didn't take him too long to turn his deep thrusts into irregular, sloppy ones. He couldn't help it: you felt so good clenching around him he couldn't contain himself any longer. Plus, it had been a while since he had some alone time with you, so he was aching to feel you finally.

"Goddamn, baby" he groaned, "Look at how you're moving, you just love this, don't you?"

You could barely talk at that point. The only thought in your mind was him, there was no room for anything that wasn't him.

You kept moving your hips against his so you could help him reach his orgasm at the same time, and he just kept going, drilling your pussy until he started to give in into the pleasure he was feeling.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum" You felt his cock throbbing inside you, as you clenched around him unconciously, as you reached your second orgasm of the night, feeling how he was getting close too, "I'm gonna cum, baby, are you close?"

"Yeah!" you whined out, "Cum in me, Leon, fuck!"

"Such a good girl f'me, fuck!" he leaned his head against your shoulder, his strong arms hugging you from behind as he thrusted again and again.

With sweat covering the both of you now, you felt him reach his orgasm, followed by you seconds after. You whined out his name, as he could only try to recover his breath, mouth opened and eyes shut, resting his head on your back, still hugging you through your orgasm.

He left a shy kiss on your shoulder, while trying to clear his throat to talk to you. His hands were still on your body, this time on your lower stomach, trying to calm you down after that orgasm.

You finally felt your hands free from the grip of those damned handcuffs. Leon kept you from falling by grabbing you again, pulling you towards him and turning to look at you.

"I wanted to try this for so long" he joked. In fact, he was saying the truth, but he laughed at what he just said, "You okay, baby?"

"Yeah, that was...amazing" you tried to recover your breath, feeling how he kissed your forehead, "You really liked to hear that name, huh?"

He chuckled at your words. He kinda realized he had a kink for you calling him Officer Kennedy...and he really liked to act like he was a cop.

"You know...we could do this again if you'd like"

Perhaps your nosiness wasn't so bad after all.

#leon x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon s kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader smut #leon scott kennedy x reader #resident evil smut

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gigabyte-flare · 7 months

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He Comes Alive (Part 5)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Summary: The townsfolk decide to hold the annual Harvest Festival despite the police chief's son being found dead. Meanwhile, Leon acts on his instinctual desires.

Word Count: 6.7k

Pairing: vampire/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: Biting, blood, gore, murder, unprotected p in v, masterbation, oral (m and f receiving), stalking, pet names, kidnapping, breeding kink, blood play/kink, age gap, dubcon, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT [More warnings may be added in future entries]

A quick reminder that I no longer do tag lists

You’re somewhere in the middle of asleep and awake as you listen to Leon descend the stairs to answer the door, hearing him call out as you hear the squeak of the front door opening. You can’t understand what they’re saying but you immediately recognize the voice as Chief Bob, causing your anxiety to immediately spike.

Had your Dad actually called the police on Leon?

You decide it’s best to get up and look for yourself, so you climb out of bed, your eyes widening at the literal bloody mess that’s on Leon’s sheets. You’re mortified but you’ll deal with that later. Not wanting to put yesterday’s clothes back on just yet, you walk up to what you assume is Leon’s closet, opening it to see if you can find a t-shirt you can throw on. You spot a navy blue t-shirt, grabbing it and slipping it on over your head. It just barely covers everything, but it’ll work.

You go downstairs, following the sounds of Leon and Chief Bob’s voices to the front door. You walk up from behind Leon to stand next to him rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

“Everything ok, Leon?”

Leon turns to you, his eyes widening subtly upon seeing your attire before he replies, “everything’s fine, angel, Chief Dion was just telling me about the emergency town meeting later tonight.”

“Oh?”

“With the closure of the hiking trails up in the Notch, we need to decide if it’s safe to have the Harvest Festival,” Chief Bob explains, “I hope to see you both there tonight. It’s at 7:00.”

“Of course, we’ll try to be there,” Leon replies, giving Chief Bob a warm smile.

“Perfect, take care, you two,” Chief Bob says, giving the two of you a subtle wave before walking back over to his police cruiser.

Leon shuts the front door, looking over at you. His eyes scan up and down your body, a subtle smirk forming on his lips.

“I never thought you’d look so breathtaking in one of my old Raccoon City Police t-shirts.”

“Oh--” you reply, looking down at the faded R.P.D. logo before shifting your attention back to him, “I just threw on the first t-shirt I saw in your closet. I hope you don’t mind…”

“Of course not, angel. Now then, I’m sure you're starving, let’s get you some breakfast, hm?”

You reply to Leon with a nod as you follow him into the kitchen and watch him make breakfast for the two of you; the smell of bacon and eggs soon filling the room.

“Thank you, by the way,” Leon suddenly says as he continues to cook breakfast.

You raise an eyebrow, “for… what?”

You watch Leon plate the bacon and eggs before turning to you, handing you the plate, “for letting me be your first.”

“Oh…” you say, realization hitting you like a ton of bricks, causing your cheeks to turn pink, “n-no, thank you. You were amazing… and sorry that I’m on my period… I can’t imagine that was pleasant…”

“On the contrary, angel,” he says, plating his own breakfast before leading you to the dining table, “I very much enjoyed myself, regardless.”

If your cheeks weren’t red before, they certainly are now as you slowly eat away at your breakfast, glancing over occasionally to see Leon doing the same. After a few minutes of eating in silence, you speak up.

“Do you think they’ll cancel the festival?” you ask, mid-chew on a piece of bacon.

“Only one way to find out.”

The rest of the day had gone by in a flash and, before you know it, it’s time to go to the town meeting. You and Leon get into his Jeep and drive into town. You are taken aback by how crowded it is; Leon had to park in the grocery store parking lot, forcing the two of you to walk about 10 minutes to the town hall. You gather that almost everyone is here; there weren’t even any chairs left in the meeting hall; you and Leon stood in the back of the room, his arms wrapping around you.

You lean into his embrace as your eyes scan the crowd for your parents. Sure enough, your eyes settle on your father’s. The look on his face as he stares back at the two of you could have set something on fire. You watch as your mother suddenly turns to you, smiling before turning to your father and smacking him in the shoulder, forcing him to look away from the two of you.

You watch as Chief Bob walks out to the podium, tapping on the microphone to get everyone’s attention. The idle chatter immediately ceased, the room so silent that you could hear a pin drop.

“Thank you for coming, everyone,” Chief Bob begins, “We honestly did not expect this large of a turnout but it warms my heart to see that the festival is something that our town clearly cares about.”

He clears his throat before continuing, “as many of you know, Oakvale has held this festival since 1947, this year marking its 40th anniversary. We’re about two weeks out but the festival committee has been keeping a close eye on the situation with hikers getting attacked and killed on the Franconia Notch trails. With Nate’s untimely death, that hit close to home for many of us, especially for my wife and I.”

You feel Leon give you a reassuring squeeze in his arms upon the mention of Nate.

The Chief continues, “and with the closure of the Notch trails, the committee has gone back and forth on whether or not we cancel the festival for the safety of not just our citizens, but of the tourists that will come here for the festival. However, it was decided that we will discuss this as a town; I’d like to open the floor for questions, concerns and comments.”

You and Leon listen as compelling arguments are tossed back and forth both for and against canceling the festival, the main concern being the loss of revenue for the town. There is no doubt that the festival is a huge money maker for Oakvale. Another concern, one that your father unsurprisingly brought up, is that with the trails now closed, that there’s a risk of the animal wandering into town, drawn by the large crowds.

“That can be avoided with enough police presence, Lincoln and Woodstock have already stated they’d lend us officers in the event we decide to hold the festival,” Chief Bob replies to your father.

For agonizing minutes, the room bursts into chatter while you and Leon stand in the back of the room, observing the spectacle. Chief Bob taps on the mic once more, the room going completely silent once more.

“Alright, let’s hold a vote. All in favor of canceling the festival, raise your hand.”

You watch as about a dozen hands go up, including your parents’.

“All in favor of holding the festival, raise your hand.”

This time, almost everyone’s hands go up, including yours and Leon’s. You lock eyes with your father once more, his look of disdain going straight into you, causing your blood to turn cold.

“Well…” Chief Bob says, looking around the room full of raised hands, “I guess that answers that question.”

It’s late; Leon doesn’t know what time it is. What he does know, however, is how perfect his angel looks beneath him, passed out from the string of orgasms he gave her some time ago. It’s been a week since she started staying here with him; Leon couldn’t believe his good fortune. He finds his gaze focused on her exposed neck, his hunger becoming ravenous.

No. He made a promise to himself he wouldn’t feed on her until it was time to give her his gift. Climbing off her, he sits at the edge of the bed as he peels the condom he used off. He lifts the condom up to eye level to inspect it, watching as a single larva wriggles around inside his seed trapped in the condom. Letting out a sigh, he stands up, walking into the bathroom, grabbing some toilet paper to wrap the used condom in, giving it a firm squeeze in his hand to ensure the larva is dead before tossing it into the trash.

Walking back into the bedroom, he grabs his boxers and jeans off the floor, putting them on. He walks over, checking to make sure she’s sleeping before he leaves the bedroom, descending the stairs to the padlocked basement door. Digging his keys out from his pocket, he unlocks the padlock and descends the stairs, turning the light on at the bottom. What he finds troubles him.

The young man he had brought back from his hunt over a week ago is clearly dead, his body slumped forward; the only thing keeping him upright is his restrained hands tied behind him around the support beam. Leon walks up to him, grabbing him by the hair on the back of his head and lifting his head up, letting go. He watches as the young man’s head immediately drops forward, confirming that he is very much dead. Judging by how white the man’s skin is, Leon wouldn’t have gotten much out of him anyway if he was still alive.

“Shit…” Leon mutters to himself.

Leon walks over to a workbench against the basement wall, grabbing a large knife from it. He walks back over to the dead young man, cutting his restraints. The body falls forward onto the floor with a loud thud. Leon walks back over to the workbench, putting the knife down and picking up a large tarp to wrap the man’s body in. Once the body is thoroughly wrapped, Leon slings the body over his shoulder, carrying it up the stairs, shutting the light off on his way up. He sets the body down onto the floor, turning around to lock the basement door back up.

He then turns to go up the stairs, stopping in the bedroom threshold to admire his angel’s sleeping form for a moment before he walks around to her side of the bed, bending down to give her a soft kiss on the lips. She stirs in her sleep.

“Leon…?”

“Hey angel,” Leon starts with a soft smile, “I have some traps on the hiking trails I need to check for the B.O.W.. I’ll be back, ok?”

“O-Ok… be careful…” she says softly, closing her eyes.

“I will. I promise,” Leon replies, giving her another kiss on the lips before he turns, leaving the bedroom.

He goes into the living room, putting his socks and work boots on before he walks back over to the body to pick it up off the floor, walking outside with it. He walks up to his Jeep, opening the tailgate and tossing the body inside, shutting it. He walks over to the drivers side, putting his keys into the ignition and driving off.

It must be really late because there isn’t a single soul on the road as Leon drives to the trailhead where he originally found the two poor hikers unfortunate enough to cross his path on his hunt. The fact that they were the same two men that gawked at him and his angel as he was courting her was just an added bonus. Coming upon the trailhead, Leon kills the headlights on his Jeep and turns in to park. He wastes no time grabbing the body from the back, unwrapping it from the tarp and heading deep into the woods with it. He finds a good spot to dispose of it, about a half mile from the body of the other hiker he killed that same night. He’s honestly surprised Fish and Game hadn’t found it yet.

After disposing of the body, Leon goes on the hunt, sniffing the air for any signs of anyone on the trails. He knew it was a long shot now that the trails are closed, but he is hoping there would be someone stupid enough to come anyway despite the ordinance. Leon must have walked several miles but can’t find a single scent of human life in the forest. He does stumble upon a deer. He technically can survive on animal blood but Leon is a picky man.

Human blood tastes so much better.

After several hours, Leon can see that the sun is about to come up, so he calls off his search, returning to his Jeep to drive home while it’s still dark. His timing is perfect, because the sun is just starting to rise as he pulls up to his house, parking his Jeep to go inside. He’s surprised to be hit with the smell of eggs and bacon as soon as he walks in; his angel must have gotten up to make breakfast.

“I’m back!” he calls out as he walks into the kitchen, confirming his suspicions upon finding her in front of the stove.

She turns, smiling at Leon as he walks into the kitchen, “you went out without a jacket or anything? Aren’t you cold?”

“Nah I’m fine, the cold air is good for burning calories,” Leon replies with a chuckle as he walks up next to you, wrapping his arm around your waist, “thank you for breakfast, angel.”

Leon kisses the top of her head as he watches her cook. He appreciates the gesture, even if the food will do nothing to sate his hunger.

“Any sign of the B.O.W.?” she asks, leaning into his embrace as she cooks.

Leon shakes his head, “nope. Nothing.”

While the town is busy getting ready for the Harvest Festival, you and Leon are hard at work on his house. Over the last couple of weeks since you practically moved in with him, you two managed to get the living room and entryway redone and decided to work on the master bathroom upstairs. It’s small, so most of the time it was just Leon working on it while you keep him company. Currently he’s laying under the bathroom sink, redoing the plumbing from the sink while you sit on the edge of the bed.

Over the last day or so, you notice that Leon is looking exceptionally pale and today, you can see some of his veins are dark and prominent, especially on his arms. He also seems to tire more easily, his breaths heavy as he works to wrench off one of the pipes under the sink.

“Leon,” you finally speak up, “have you been feeling ok?”

Leon stops what he’s doing, sitting up and looking at you with a quizzical look on his face, “what makes you ask, angel?”

“You just look… I dunno… sick…”

Leon looks down at his bare arms, seemingly acknowledging how pale he looks as he nods his head before standing up from the floor.

“I suppose I have been pushing myself pretty hard, lately,” he says, walking up to you before sitting next to you on the bed.

“Maybe you should take a break. The Harvest Festival starts tomorrow and goes until this Saturday, Halloween; let’s pick a day and go!”

“That sounds like a wonderful idea, angel,” he says, wrapping his arm around you.

You notice immediately that his skin is cold and clammy, but you chalk that up to his exhaustion from working on the house nonstop.

The two of you decide to go Wednesday in hopes that it wouldn’t be as crowded. Unfortunately, you were wrong, very wrong. Parking was next to impossible until Leon finally found a spot way in the back of the lot by the forest. It’s late afternoon, the sun hanging low in the sky. The Oakvale fairground is teeming with life, the sounds of people laughing and screaming on carnival rides filling the air. The star attraction, a large ferris wheel, lights up the entire area like a lighthouse, drawing everyone to it like moths to a flame.

Leon is wearing one of his dark leather jackets, but even with that on you could see that Leon looks even more pale than he had the other day, noting dark veins spreading over his muscular neck.

“Leon, are you sure you’re feeling ok, you look worse than you did the other day.”

“I promise, I’m fine, angel. I just need some fresh air, which I’m sure we’ll get plenty of here.”

“Alright… but if you look worse tomorrow, promise you'll go to a doctor.”

"I will, angel," Leon replies, giving you a reassuring smile before he wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you close.

He suddenly leans down to you, burying his nose in your hair and inhaling deep. You let out a playful giggle at his gesture.

“Leon! What are you doing?”

“You smell irresistible, angel,” he replies, giving you a kiss on the top of your head before he pries his nose from your hair.

It takes several minutes to walk the length of the parking area to the fairground, the setting sun turning everything a brilliant orange as it makes its descent behind the mountains.

“How about we watch the sunset from up there?” Leon suggests, nodding his head towards the ferris wheel.

You feel your cheeks tingle at the idea, “we’ll have to get tickets first, there’s a ticket booth right there next to it.”

“Wait here,” Leon says, planting a kiss on the top of your head before you watch him walk up to the ticket booth.

You watch them exchange words, unable to hear anything they’re saying over the sounds of the crowd and the rides. With tickets in hand, Leon walks back over to you, reaching to take your hand and leading you over to the ferris wheel line. It’s long, but it goes fast; the two of you are next to board before you even know it. Getting into the cart, the two of you sit on one side as the wheel slowly begins to move up. Leon wastes no time pulling you into his embrace.

“So…” you begin resting your head on his chest, “once the B.O.W. is taken care of, you’ll have to leave, won’t you?”

You feel his chin rest on the top of your head, “I should be able to pull some strings to be able to stay here, I wouldn’t be fixing the house up otherwise.”

As the cart makes its ascent to the top, the two of you sit there in silence, but Leon’s gentle rubbing of your upper arm and the occasional kiss he places on the top of your head speaks more than words ever could. The love you feel for him is overwhelming, although for some reason you were hesitant to say it out loud. The cart finally reaches the top, stopping for a few minutes.

“Wow…” you say under your breath.

The sunset is the most beautiful you have ever seen. It looks like the whole sky is set ablaze as the sun slowly creeps behind the mountains. You feel Leon’s nose bury itself back in your hair, feeling him inhale deeply once more.

“Someday soon… I hope to give you something really special,” Leon says suddenly, “a gift.”

You shift in his embrace, looking up at him into his blue eyes, “what kind of gift?”

You can barely contain your excitement at the implication of his words. The first thing that immediately comes to mind is an engagement ring. You watch a smirk cross Leon’s lips as he stares back at you.

“I don’t want to ruin the surprise, you’ll have to wait and see.”

“You’re such a tease,” you say as you playfully punch his shoulder.

“God, I love you,” Leon replies before he pushes you into the side of the cart, kissing you deeply.

His words give you whiplash, you aren’t even given enough time to process them when his tongue dips into your mouth as he practically devours you. He breaks off the kiss for a moment, his lustful gaze locked on yours.

“Do you think anyone would notice if I fucked you up here?” he says with a smug look.

“Pretty sure they’d notice one of the carts moving erratically,” you reply, unable to contain your bashful giggling.

“Damn,” he replies, the disappointment evident in his voice as he leans back so that you can sit back up in the cart as it begins to make its descent.

You watch his eyes scan the fairgrounds for a moment before you shift back over to him, his arm draping across your shoulders. After a few minutes, your cart descends back to the ground and you’re let off the ride.

“I need to use the bathroom real quick, I think I saw it over there while we were up on the ferris wheel, I’ll meet you back here, ok?” Leon says, leaning down to give you a quick kiss on the lips.

You reply with a quick nod as you watch Leon head into the crowd. You take this opportunity to look around at some of the vendors in the immediate area. A lot of them were selling cheap knockoffs of popular cartoon characters, funny hats and toys, but there are some homemade soaps and other homemade crafts and foods as well.

15 minutes go by and Leon still hasn’t come back yet. You do your best not to worry, you figure there is probably a large line to use the bathrooms; there always seems to be a line at the festival. You’re at a stall belonging to a lady that made handcrafted signs when all of a sudden you hear a very distinct sound.

Bang. Bang, Bang. Bang…

“Is that gunfire?!” you hear someone say as you hear more banging sounds ring out.

You quickly realize the sound is coming from the direction of the bathrooms.

“Leon!” you call out as you make a run to the bathrooms.

As you run closer, you can still hear the gunfire, and as you come upon the bathrooms, you realize the gunfire is coming from the woods behind them. You don’t hesitate and run into them, noting that there are several police officers following behind you with their guns drawn. You run about a quarter of a mile when you find Leon standing over a young man; his gun drawn and pointing to the depths of the woods.

“Leon!” you call out to him, the officers quickly catching up to you, “are you ok?! What happened?!”

Leon turns to you and you’re shocked to find his jacket, shirt and face are covered in blood, “when I got over here to use the bathroom, I heard someone calling for help, so I came to investigate. Something was on top of him. I managed to drive the creature off him but it bolted into the woods. I tried to resuscitate him but…”

You watch Leon’s gaze shift to the young man splayed out on the ground. The man had a large gaping wound in his neck, blood still coming out of it and his mouth. That at least explains why Leon has blood all over him, he had tried to perform CPR.

“Sir we’re going to need to see some identification,” one of the officers states, approaching him.

“Of course,” Leon says, pulling his wallet out and flipping it open to show a federal ID, “I’m agent Leon S. Kennedy, Division of Security Operations. I’m stationed here on official classified business.”

The officer nods, looking down at the dead young man, seemingly satisfied with Leon’s response. Chief Bob suddenly approaches, running his hand through his hair, staring down at the dead young man in disbelief.

“Son of a bitch…” Chief Bob says under his breath as he gently kicks the body with his foot before turning to the other officers, “evacuate the fairground, we need to shut down the festival.”

The ride home is solemn, you zone out looking out the window into the night as Leon drives. All you can smell is the man’s blood that is all over Leon’s clothes; he thankfully managed to clean off his face in the bathroom before leaving the fairground. You suddenly feel Leon’s hand caress your thigh, making you jump a little as you come out of your daze.

“You ok, angel?” Leon asks softly as he glances over at you.

“Yeah… I guess I’m just shaken. What was that guy even doing out there?”

“From what I saw when I first found him, he went out there to smoke a cigarette. Poor guy…”

“Did you see the B.O.W. at all?”

Leon shakes his head, “not really, it was dark, but I could see it had these back claw things and a long tail before it bolted into the forest. I’d never imagined it’d try attacking so close to town like that.”

“We’re never going to hear the end of it from my Dad…”

“Your father can kiss my ass,” Leon says, his voice full of malice.

“Leon… please don’t…”

“He treats you like shit, tries to control everything you do. It’s a miracle he’s even married to be honest.”

“Leon, he's still my Dad.”

“And you’re my mate. So long as I’m around, your father has no power over you.”

You blink a few times, your brain trying to figure out if you heard him correctly, “I’m your… what?”

You see Leon shake his head quickly, correcting himself, “sorry… city slang. My girlfriend. You’re my girlfriend.”

Hearing him refer to you as his girlfriend makes your nerves spark, you lean your head against the passenger side window in an attempt to calm yourself. The Jeep finally pulls into the driveway; Leon parks it on the side of the house and the two of you head inside. Leon makes sure the front door is locked.

“I don’t know about you, but I need a shower,” Leon says, peeling off his blood soaked jacket and shirt, walking over to the washing machine adjacent to the kitchen and tossing them inside.

“I like that idea a lot, actually, “ you reply as your eyes move up and down his naked torso, admiring his physique.

Leon smirks at you, seeing you gawk at him, “I knew you would, angel.”

You watch as Leon goes upstairs, you soon follow close behind him. He goes into the master bathroom, turning on the shower to warm it up before he discards the rest of his clothes. Even from where you stand in the master bathroom threshold, you can see that he’s already starting to get hard, meaning the two of you clearly had the same thing on your minds. The second thing you notice is that his skin looks a thousand times better than it had when you first got to the fairground; full of color and life. He was right; he had just needed the fresh air.

You begin to undress as Leon steps into the shower, joining him once you’re fully unclothed. Leon’s hands are immediately on you once you’re inside the shower with him, pushing you against the shower wall as he leans down to kiss the crook of your neck. You feel his hands grasp at your hips as you feel him kiss, suck and gently bite your neck; there will surely be marks later but in that moment, you don’t care; the only thing on your mind is him and how much you want him.

A soft moan escapes your lips as his own begin to trail down from your neck, to your shoulder, then to the front of your chest where his mouth latches onto one of your breasts. You feel his tongue lap the sensitive nipple, causing shivers to travel down your spine and throughout your entire body. With one of your hands, you caress down his toned chest until you’re greeted by his rock hard member, your hand grasping around it to give him slow, but firm strokes.

“Oh… fuck…” Leon moans, taking his mouth off your breasts to lean down and kiss you.

His kiss is deep and hungry, his tongue invading your mouth as he has your hips in his vice-like grip. You manage to break away, suddenly getting on your knees, gently holding his throbbing cock by the base as your tongue gently runs up the bottom to the tip. It’s a lovely shade of dark pink, crying pre-cum as you take him into your mouth.

“I get to fuck your pretty mouth?” you hear Leon growl as he thrusts into your mouth, his hand grasping the hair on the back of your head.

You gag as the tip of his cock pushes into the back of your throat at an increasingly fast pace; the sounds coming out of your mouth are borderline pornographic. You feel tears tease the corners of your eyes as Leon relentlessly fucks your mouth and just when it's becoming too much, his hand that’s on the back of your head yanks your mouth free, pulling you up to force you to stand.

Leon pushes the shower door open, aggressively pushing you against the bathroom counter. You manage to catch yourself with your hands, looking up into the mirror to see Leon looming behind you. One of his hands is placed on your back, pushing you forward as you feel his cock prod at your soaked hole. He quickly sheathes himself inside you, eliciting a loud moan out of you when he bottoms out inside you, your walls instinctively squeezing around him as he fills you.

He wastes no time thrusting into you. The thrusts are slow, but powerful, with purpose. A combination of his name and ‘oh my god’ spilling from your lips as you are fucked dumb on his cock.

“That’s it, taking me so well my pretty angel,” Leon purrs as he picks up the pace on his thrusts.

You lean your head forward, your arms shaking as they struggle to prop you up on the bathroom counter. Suddenly, you once again feel Leon’s hand grasp the hair on the back of your head, pulling you up so that your back is against his chest.

“This pussy is all mine, you hear me, angel?” Leon growls in your ear, “I want you to watch yourself as I breed you.”

His thrusts become aggressive, your mind too cock drunk to protest him cumming inside you. Your eyes threaten to roll into the back of your head as the head of his cock abuses your cervix. A wave of pleasure washes over you as you cum on his length, your walls squeezing him tight as you moan loudly. Letting out an animalistic growl, Leon pushes himself as hard and as deep into you as he possibly can. You suddenly feel a sharp, excruciating pain from deep within your core followed by the warmth of his cum filling you as he pushes himself inside you; you watch as your face contorts in the mirror. Tears stream down your face as Leon’s arms wrap possessively around you while still pushing his throbbing cock inside you.

“L-Leon… it hurts!” you sob out in agony, your body violently trembling.

“Shhhhh… I know, angel, I know. You’re taking my seed so well, baby. I have to make sure it takes. It’s almost over, I promise,” he softly coos in your ear.

It feels like an eternity before Leon’s member finally stops throbbing inside you. He gives you a gentle kiss on your cheek before he slowly pulls out. You let out a pathetic whimper as you collapse against the bathroom counter, your body still shaking from both the pleasure and the pain. You can feel some of his cum leak out as it runs down the inner side of your leg. You feel Leon’s fingers spread your pussy lips open; you glance up in the mirror to see the look of pure admiration on his face as he stares at your leaking hole.

“So beautiful,” he whispers.

Saturday morning, Mick’s favorite. His eyes slowly open to see the clock read 7:47am back at him. He rolls onto his back, stretching his arms out to find the space next to him is empty; Sandi is already up. Mick climbs out of bed, sliding his feet into his slippers before he walks into the master bathroom to relieve himself. Afterwards, he goes downstairs into the kitchen, the smell of bacon filling the air as he spots Sandi over the stove making breakfast.

“I grabbed the paper, hun. It’s on the table,” she says as she begins plating their breakfast.

Mick sits down at his chair, unfolding the newspaper to be greeted with large bold text reading:

Trick or Treating Canceled in Oakvale

Wild animal attack during annual Harvest Festival prompts town officials to cancel trick or treating.

Mick doesn’t bother reading the rest of the article. He flips the page, shaking his head.

“Did you see they canceled trick or treating tonight?” Mick asks Sandi as he reads through the paper.

“I did,” Sandi says as she brings two plates of bacon and pancakes over to the table, setting one down in front of Mick while she sits in a chair next to him, “what a shame.”

“Why does no one listen to me? I told them having the festival was a bad idea and look what happened.”

Not even mentioning Leon was there when it happened…

On one hand, it makes sense that Leon was there given what Leon had made him privy to when his daughter moved in with him, but there is still a part of him that thinks that Leon is somehow involved; he just can’t prove it.

“Honey, I know, but the festival is a huge part of this town, you know that.”

“I know…”

“Fish and Game found those two hikers from Plymouth State yesterday, both dead,” Sandi says, eating her breakfast.

Mick lets out a heavy sigh as he sets the newspaper down on the table, digging into his breakfast in silence, his mind wandering. He calls back to the first hiker that went missing, which wasn’t unusual around here. People went hiking in the Notch unprepared all the time. Now that he thought about it, he doesn’t think they ever found that person’s body.

The rest of the day is uneventful. Not getting trick or treaters is an adjustment. Mick spends his evening in his recliner, mindlessly scrolling through channels on TV. There’s a sudden rap on the door, startling Mick so much that he sits up in the recliner. He looks up at the clock, which reads just after 11:00pm. The knocking continues, insistent and forceful.

“Who the fuck could that be at this hour?” Mick asks himself under his breath as he walks over to the front door, opening it to find Leon, clearly out of breath as he leans up against the door frame with one arm.

“Leon!” Mick says, surprised, “what are you doing here?”

“I need your help, Mick,” Leon begins, “I have the B.O.W. cornered but not for long. I can’t take it down on my own.”

“Why come to me for help? Did you run here?” Mick asks, looking around behind Leon but not finding his Jeep.

“I did…” Leon replies, still winded as he stands up straight, “I came to you because you’re the only other person besides your daughter who knows about the B.O.W. and I am not putting her in danger.”

“Shit hold on, let me get my gun,” Mick says as he turns to walk into the house, but Leon grabs his arm to stop him.

“There’s no time, I have a gun for you right here,” Leon pats the holster strapped to his leg, “we need to go. Now.”

“I need to at least tell my wife--”

“No, don’t tell a soul, if it gets out there’s a B.O.W. here, there will be panic. I can’t let that happen.”

Mick is at war with himself, he doesn’t trust Leon, but on the chance that Leon is being truthful, this is his chance to put an end to this nightmare and things can finally go back to normal around here.

He looks to Leon, giving him a quick nod in acknowledgement, “let’s go.”

Leon pulls the gun from his hip holster and a flashlight from his pocket, handing them to Mick before he gestures for him to follow him. Mick follows, quietly closing the front door behind him before both of them break out into a run. Mick struggles to keep up with Leon, who’s obviously in much better shape than he is being a government agent and all. Within 10 minutes, they’re at the fairground, unsurprisingly; this is where the creature got its latest meal, of course it would stick around.

Leon and Mick head into the forest, Leon leading the way as they continue to run deeper and deeper into the forest. Eventually, they come upon a small clearing, Leon slowing himself to a stop as Mick runs slightly ahead into the clearing. Mick looks around, not seeing any sign of life in the immediate area.

“Where did it go? Did the fucker take off?” Mick scoffs in frustration as he continues to look around ahead of him into the darkness, the flashlight doing little to penetrate it.

“It’s right here.” Leon growls from behind Mick.

Mick turns around slowly, the flashlight confirming his deepest fears as his breaths become ragged with his racing heart. Leon is standing behind him, shirtless. Black veins sprawl across his skin as Leon stares at Mick with piercing red eyes. Leon’s mouth starts to morph into a sinister grin, revealing two long, sharp canine teeth.

“I fucking knew it! What are you, some kind of vampire?!”

“Oh Mick… I’m so much more than that,” Leon purrs, flexing his fists as he slowly approaches him.

Mick watches in horror as four long, claw-like black appendages burst from his back, his eyes widening in shock as he stumbles backwards away from Leon’s approach. Then, a long scorpion-like tail snakes out from behind him, curling to the front to reveal a sharp, blade-esque end.

“Jesus Christ!” Mick cries out, holding the gun up and pulling the trigger.

Click, click, click, says the empty chamber of the gun.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk… you really think I’d be stupid enough to give you a loaded gun, Mick?” Leon taunts, continuing his advance.

In a last ditch effort to defend himself, he chucks the empty handgun at Leon, who catches it with lightning fast reflexes with his hand, putting it back into his hip holster.

“You certainly had me nervous, Mick, you seem to be the only one who caught on to the fact that there’s something very wrong about me,” Leon says, his voice dripping with venom before he licks his fangs with his tongue.

“What do you want?!”

“I want what any man wants, to breed with his mate and pass down his bloodline. I’m the last of my kind, you know. I have to do my part to ensure the survival of my species.”

“Your mate? You mean my fucking daughter?!”

Leon lets out a low chuckle, “yes I mean your daughter. You should be proud of her, she’s currently carrying my offspring. She doesn’t know that yet, but she will soon enough, I promise you.”

“You son of a bitch! You won’t get away with this!”

“Oh, but I will Mick,” Leon says, grinning, “you see, the only ones that know what I truly am are you and I. I am quite famished, Mick and lucky for you, I enjoy playing with my food.”

Mick continues to back away from Leon, the light of the flashlight shaking as Leon stalks closer.

Leon chuckles once more before continuing, “I’ll even give you a head start, so I hope you make it fun for me.”

“Shit…” Mick says under his breath as the reality of his situation sinks in, watching Leon grin even wider as he spreads his arms out in a taunting gesture.

“Run.”

Part 6

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