lysol1201

[lysol1201]

Raccoon City might be in... Colorado?

Important Background Knowledge: As I mentioned in my interactive map post and like I'm sure at least some of you have seen be discussed, the topic of Raccoon City's real-life location has been something of a mystery. Important context when discussing theories regarding real-life locations of places within the RE universe is that, most of the time, they're not entirely fictionalized. The developers and production teams will sometimes do what's called location scouting where they either visit a place or heavily research areas to find a real-world match for the setting they want to set part of the game or CGI movie in. We saw this with Damnation especially, where they had taken a map of Slovakia and changed the names of places to create the Eastern Slav Republic and then used Ukraine for the architecture and narrative inspiration for the film.

The Theory:

Back to RC, many have theorized that it's likely the in-universe Springfield, MI based on geographical features and the information we have about RC. However, I think I may have found a better alternative that's based in canon material. The origin of this theory is a little humorous-- at first I was going to make a highlights post for Biohazard: The Stage (for those who don't know, it's a canon stage play for the franchise), but during the flashback sequence, I realized that they actually gave us a map for once. And not just any map, but a map that very conveniently (but quickly) zooms in on RC to establish the location-- which appears to be Colorado.

So after nearly 2 hours, many attempts, and the combination of an editing software and Google Earth, I was successfully able to map (ha) the real US map onto the original image, using various techniques including a spherical warp (because the original image is on a globe, thus there's a change in perspective) and so. much. fiddling with rotation, anchor points, etc. Additionally, you can see the dense part of black and white map (from the play) is the same shape as the mountain range topology from Colorado, so I'd say it's a pretty good match.

This also makes a lot of sense when you consider what we know about Raccoon City. Originally, RC was described as a small town, somewhere toward the Midwest in a mountain range that was known for hiking and tourism, however, the "small town" idea later evolved into a more populous city as the franchise expanded. Colorado has all of these same features-- it's around that general area, it's known for it's mountains, there's a lot of tourism, lots of hiking, etc. As of the current lore, it was said that RC had a population of over 100k, and Denver specifically had a little over 400k in 1998, so that would certainly fit that description.

Now, how much thought the production team behind the play put into where exactly they were putting RC is debatable. Although the play was overseen by Capcom and produced by Capcom as part of the RE continuity, Leon's hair color and Chris' eye color change practically every game or movie, so there's no way for us to know if everyone behind the scenes was in agreement on the map. However, considering Piers was in the play and they even went out of their way to draw connections to the "secret organization" Leon worked for that we knew nothing about, it does seem like the play's continuity was pretty well thought-out.

But that's just a theory... a Resident Evil Theory...

-----

Also now that I think about it, this makes Leon's decision to go to Estes Park even more interesting. And perhaps that's how Chris was able to find Leon... but that's a theory for a different post.

[lysol1201]

Trunk

Leon Kennedy x female reader (BSAA) for this request Fluffy, bit of mild spice, bit of blood, mention of panic attack, swears

It was meant to be straightforward surveillance ahead of the main op. Monitor the drop – the metal suitcase fitted with a tracking chip and three fake virus vials – note any observations about the pick-up, then inform the rest of the Wolf Hound Squad who would track the co-ordinates to find the terrorists’ base of operations.

You had pouted a little at being sidelined from the main action, but Chris needed someone stealthy to keep an eye over the drop and, with a squeeze to your shoulder, your track record meant you were the prime candidate.

You’d set yourself up in the eaves of the abandoned warehouse that served as the drop-off point, armed with a pair of binoculars, an ear piece and a couple of guns, as always, for if anything went south...

..which it did the moment you detected movement from the south-east corner. It took a few attempts to get them in focus, but your heart sank when you recognized the figure – one Leon S Kennedy of the DSO rolling between abandoned shipping containers, honing in on the one you’d placed the metal suitcase in a few hours previously.

What the hell is he doing here?

You press down on your earpiece and it beeps once, opening the line to transmit. “Alpha to Lupe. Got a problem. Over.”

Silence.

“Alpha to Lupe. Got a problem. Over.”

Nothing – again. Maybe your current position has poor signal, but there’s no time to troubleshoot when squealing tyres echo around the structure, alerting you to the two black cars swerving in and heading to the shipping container in question.

The cars stop, their engines remaining idle and five well-built and well-dressed men depart – three from one, two from another.

Through your binoculars, you see Leon head straight for them, gun raised.

Shit.

--

You are jolted back into consciousness when your crown smacks on something hard, before being ricocheted back down to your nose cracking against something firm, groaning as you come to.

“Finally awake, sleeping beauty?”

The voice is familiar and rumbles through your chest with the horrible realization that you’re lying on top of someone. You try and scoot back, whacking your head again and a sinking feeling as you feel plastic digging into your wrists, keeping them bound behind you.

It all comes flooding back.

Numerous gunshots go off as you slide down the ladder back to the ground floor, half expecting to find Leon bleeding out or even dead on the concrete. Instead, he’s being heaved up by his armpits, unconscious, and pushed into the trunk of one of the cars, half in, half out as one of the heavy-set men commences a search, confiscating a multitude of weapons with a scoff.

You can’t see any other bodies, which is strange. Is Kennedy getting slow in his old age?

At the other car, a man with a blonde pony-tail is bent down, talking through the window to someone you can’t see. “Go on ahead with the package.”

The driver seems to protest, but ponytail shakes his head.

“We’ll take the rat elsewhere, have some fun… We’ll join you back at base after. Go.” He thumps the top of the car with his fist to emphasize his point.

The idling car now hits the gas with gusto, the tyres burning against the concrete before it skids out of sight.

The heavy-set man seems to have concluded his search of the unconscious agent by then, finishing with what looks to be Leon’s phone. He considers it for a moment before he drops it to the floor and grinds it into the concrete with the heel of his shoe, the screen splintering and plastic cracking under his weight.

He then leans into the trunk before holding Leon’s arms behind his back and securing his wrists with what looks like a zip tie, before heaving up his legs and giving his ankles the same treatment.

You grit your teeth as you think – you don’t have much time. They’re not taking Leon to the HQ, so it’s not like you can catch up and let the rest of the squad know they’ve got a hostage.

The other car’s gone, one of the guys is distracted, if you just-

“Well, well…” There’s a gun pressed to the small of your back and your stomach sinks. You’d thought the two remaining were the ones you had in your eyesight, assuming three others had got back into the other car, but one seems to have been prowling. Fuck, you’re better than this usually. Are you and Kennedy both having an off day?

A thick forearm wraps around your throat in a headlock.

“Drop the gun.”

Before you can even think of how to get out of the hold, a knee is forced between your thighs, weakening your stance and preventing any sort of retaliation you might be able to achieve with your legs. The forearm tenses and cuts off all air, the order repeated and it is not until your grip on your gun goes limp, letting it drop to the floor that it relaxes, leaving you gasping for breath.

“We’ve already caught ourselves a rat this evening, suppose it makes sense we catch a mouse next.”

You try and throw your head back in desperation - if you break his nose he’ll definitely let go, but there’s not enough room and the arm around your throat squeezes again, but this time there is no relief, only a smug whisper in your ear.

“Sweet dreams, little mouse.”

 Everything went black.

You squint in the dark of what you assume is the car trunk – an eerie red glow emitting from the corners which you presume are the taillights – and your eyes slowly begin to adjust to find two icy blue ones staring up at you under familiar bangs. “Leon?” Your voice is a little hoarse, but it’s better than being dead.

“One and only. Gotta say, this is a surprise. Been a while.”

You try and roll off his chest entirely but it’s awkward and cramped. The trunk is not large enough to be accommodating two adults, let alone one as muscular as Leon. You manage to shift most of your weight off him, though your legs are somewhat still entangled, ankles crisscrossed together with the same zip tie treatment. You cough, trying to relieve the tightness in your throat. “What are you doing here? This is a BSAA op.”

“DSO had intel of a terrorist cell being supplied with virus samples.” He tries to shuffle back a little, take in your face after you lying atop of him unconscious for however long.

“It’s a fake – it’s our drop.”

“What?”

“I was doing surveillance to confirm they accepted the suitcase with the tracker – the rest of the pack is gonna intercept their base once co-ordinates are confirmed.”

You see him raise his eyebrow in the dim light. “Pack? Redfield still going by that wolf crap?”

 “Oh, because birds are so cool, right?” You retort, though you’re more annoyed at your situation than him.

“How’d they get you?”

“Does it matter?” You avoid the question, not wanting to tell him the real reason you’d got caught was because you’d been concerned seeing him being shoved into the trunk.

“We’ve gotta get out of these restraints. I can try and…” You trail off, your breath catching in your throat. You pull fruitlessly at the plastic holding your wrists, ignoring the sharp pain, and try and bring your knees up to your chest.

“Already tried, there’s not enough space.” Leon interjects. “Maybe if I was here solo…”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you mean to sound sarcastic, but with how you’re breathing it sounds more like a genuine apology. “I just thought it looked so fun when I saw you being kidnapped so I had to join in, you know?”

You’re breathing too heavy now, but it’s not getting down into your lungs. You’re not sure if it’s because your windpipe was crushed earlier, or that you’re on your side in an awkward position, or the fact that you’re stuffed in the trunk of a car with potentially limited oxygen.

Fuck.

“Hey.” Leon’s voice sounds foggy.

You shuffle as best you can, hoping a change in position might open up your airways, but it feels like as if the trunk is closing in around you.

“Hey. You good?”

“I…”

“You need to breathe deeper than that, okay?”

Deep down, in your logical mind, you know you do, but in the panic it’s just not happening, and your breaths grow only shallower. Your throat is too tight, the zip tie around your wrist and ankles is too tight, the space in here is too tight. Leon tenses his forearms behind his back for the umpteenth time, willing the plastic to break as he sees you falling further and further into distress. His words aren't getting through and he can't really touch you either, can't grab your hand or your shoulder and try and ground you for a moment to catch your breath. “I’m so sorry.” Leon throws his head forward and kisses you – not square on the lips, more at the corner of your open mouth, messy and awkward - but it’s enough to knock you out of hyperventilating as your scalp tingles.

“Breathe.” He orders, pulling back.

“You just-”

“Breathe. There’s plenty of oxygen in here – it’s not airtight. Breathe.”

You close your eyes and mouth and take a deep inhale through your nose, spluttering a little as you try to hold it. It takes a few cycles, Leon keeping silent as you gather your bearings, but eventually it steadies.

“Sorry.” You mumble, embarrassed.

“I’m sorry – I shouldn’t have kissed you, I just couldn’t think of how else to divert your focus.”

“No, it’s okay. Definitely worked.”

There’s an awkward silence before Leon shuffles ever so slightly.

“Promise you won’t tell Redfield? I’d rather not have my neck snapped.”

“Why would he do that?”

“You... You two aren’t a thing?”

“No.” Your brow furrows. “He’s my captain. My life’s already complicated enough fighting bioweapons without throwing in dating my superior.”

“Oh. I thought…” He shrugs as best as he can before you can see the infamous cocky grin. “Well, how about you and I grab dinner after this?”

“If there is an after this.” You try and swallow down the anxious feeling that’s crawling up from your stomach once more. “Being moved to a second location against your will is nev- Ugh!”

The car drives over a pothole but, thankfully, your head doesn’t collide with the top of the trunk. Leon groans as the impact threw him over onto his front before he mutters under his breath and starts to grind his hips.

“Holy shit.”

“What?”

“I think they missed a weapon.”

“Really?” Your voice perks up. “What?”

“A knife.”

“How’d they miss a knife?”

“Is that a complaint?” Leon scoffs.

“No, just seems a bit amateur hour. Can you reach it?”

“Not a chance, but, er…”, he clears his throat, “you might. We’re gonna have to try and adjust positions first, I’ll need your back to my chest.”

“Okay. Erm…” You scooch yourself forward with your hip and heel of your boot - easier said than done as the trunk grows narrower the further you go down, your knees bunching up towards your chest. “Like that?”

“Gimme a sec.” He responds through gritted teeth, trying to roll over again. Whatever make car this is, it’s not American – the trunk space is abysmal. Eventually, he manages it, shuffling himself forward until your fingers are pressed up against what feels like his chest.

“Hey!” He snaps with a poorly concealed laugh as your fingers twitch against the fabric. “That tickles.”

“Sorry – reflex. Where is it?”

“Well, put simply, my crotch.”

You give yourself a moment to let the words sink in.

“You keep a knife in your crotch? How have you not cut off your-?”

“It’s more a scalpel than a knife,” he cuts you off. “And it’s hidden away in the lining – in-built sheath – near the fly. Think you can find it?”

You close your eyes tight, thinking it might help you focus. Your thumb brushes up against something firm and you feel Leon tense behind you.

“Is that…?”

 “My jockstrap, thank you.” He clears his throat again. “Higher than that and more to the left.”

You try to follow his instructions, but it’s impossible to go any higher, unable to bend your elbows. “I don’t think I can. Can you shuffle down any?”

“Er…” He tries, shifting down an inch or so, his knees pressing into the back of yours in a spoon, his breath tickling your ear as he settles back down. “There. Bit to the left again.”

You close your eyes again, feeling the zip with your thumb and head to the left until you feel what feels like a thin tube.

“That?”

“Yep. Now, just try and bring it up and out. The blade’s at the bottom.”

That’s easier said than done as you press your thumbs either side of it and feel it move ever so slightly up. It’s a slow and steady process, not helped with the fact of how sweaty your palms are now getting with Leon pressed right up against you. “I think it’s nearly there. If the blade’s at the bottom, can you shuffle back? I don’t wanna slice you open.”

“You got a good grip?”

You swear you can hear the grin in his voice with that one.

“As good as I ever will.”

He scoots back a little, not as far as possible, but enough room so you can pull the scalpel implement up and twirl it around carefully in your grip so you can start to saw against the zip-tie.

“Got it.”

“Does it feel like it’s working?”

“Yeah. Just kinda awkwa-" There’s a stinging pain in your palm as the knife slices through and you hiss.

“What?”

“Got my palm.”

“Bad?”

“Had worse.” You bite your lip at the pain then, eyes squeezed shut again, trying to visualize what might be going on behind your back. Your movements are miniscule, a concern that that if you went any faster you’d slip in your enthusiasm and stab Leon.

It feels like hours when you finally feel the tension give and your wrists are free of the horrid plastic.  

“Got it. Just…” Mindful of your bleeding palm, you roll over with your good hand and lean up, pushing Leon face down so you can set to work on his wrists. It only takes a few confident saws, despite how slick your palm is with blood, before the agent groans and pulls his arms in front of him.

You pull your knees up to your chest and quickly slice through the restraints around your ankles, before handing the scalpel to Leon to do the same. His fingers pinch your other wrist instead, bringing your bleeding palm up close to his face to analyze in the dim light.

“Shit, that’s deep.”

“It’s fine,” you try and shake off his hold, but his grip remains firm.

“That’ll be the blood loss talking. Hold on.” He pulls up his shirt with his free hand and rips at the hem with his teeth, tearing off a rough strip, before he begins to wrap it around your palm in an attempt to stem the bleeding.

“There.” He announces, tying it off with a tight knot. “Not ideal, but it’ll have to do for now.”

“Thanks.” You cradle it back against your stomach and hand him over the blade so he can finally cut through the zip-tie around his ankles. It seems just in time too, as the car begins to slow.

“How do you want to play this?”

“You sit tight, I deal with whoever opens the trunk… then we go for dinner.”

“You know I am not a sit tight kinda gal, right?”

“We’ve only got one knife.”

“One scalpel.” You correct.

“Exactly.” The car stops.

“Roll over, face the back.” He orders, taking control. “I’ll go the other way – they won’t be able to see our hands. When they lean in to haul me out…”

The dulled sound of the car doors opening leaves you with no choice but to turn away as instructed and your hand brushes up against Leon’s as you tuck them back behind your back. With the hand that’s not holding the scalpel, he grabs hold of your uninjured hand and squeezes your fingers in reassurance.

The trunk opens.

Leon is peering through his lashes, bangs over his eyes, as his captor comes into view, gun raised. He nudges Leon’s shoulder with the barrel, watching the agent’s head lull back before holstering his weapon and preparing to heave Leon out of the trunk.

And that’s when he takes his chance, scalpel in hand, straight into the jugular, his other hand nabbing the gun out of the holster as he twists himself up and out of the trunk before the man can hit the ground.

Before you can get up to join him, he slams the trunk back down. You curse, hearing back and forth gunshots before the trunk opens again a few minutes later, Leon stood there with an apologetic smile.

“Coast is clear. We’re down at the docks – I can’t believe I let myself get caught by these amateurs.”

“Well, I can’t believe you shut the trunk on me!” You shuffle forward using your good hand, relieved to be sitting upright at last, legs dangling out from the trunk.

“I’m sorry - I know most guys bring their dates flowers,” he pulls another confiscated gun out of his back pocket – must be his prize from the other guy – and offers it out to you, “but something tells me you’d accept this instead?”

You take it with a smirk and a retort too good to pass up on. “You’re really gunning for this dinner date, huh, Kennedy?”

He leans forward and pushes you back into the trunk with a kiss.

--

This is so, so silly but I had fun x

Masterlist . Requests welcome . Commissions/Ko-Fi

[lysol1201]

last night i dreamt we did our laundry together

re2 leon kennedy x male! reader

warnings: yearning.

notes: n/a.

fem dni.

Morning dew clung to the windows, a hazy, young dawn hanging as a heavy blue blanket over the slowly waking city.

A still morning, just as good as any other. Silence only broken by the scuffing of shoes echoing from the other side of the break room door, the buzzing of the fridge, the slow turning of the fan, it's blades creaking.

[Name]'s nails tapped against the flimsy paper of his coffee cup, it's heat warming his palms, held snug between both hands, fingers interlocked. Coffee had stained the outside of the cup, the outline of a long drop stretching down the length. He was never great at keeping his hands still.

He had tried to whipe similar spills he'd caused on the one he'd brought in for Leon, but to little avail. He could0 only hope the fact it was free coffee would make up for its messiness. That, and the handful of a few different creamers he'd brought-- he wasn't exactly sure how Leon took his coffee.

He kept his gaze glued to his own cup, all too aware of his own body as he sat in the flimsy metal chairs, the slightest shift of his elbows causing the table to shift and wobbling-- the damn old thing-- how the fabric of his slacks clung to his legs, his shoes digging into the back of his heel.

Every thought that passed through his head neared either destructive, or delusional-- the in-between was negligible, and in the past few months, he hasn't thought of much else besides the man infront of him.

He didn't like the word *crush.* It felt childish-- immature. He was a man, not some school boy fauning on the playground. Unfortunately, there was no better word to describe what he felt, try as he might to find one.

Even worse than that was the way his own mind toyed with him because of it.

In fleeting moments, he swore those butterflies in his stomach, the rapid beating of his heart, the genuine want to come into work for more than just his paycheck, were all mutual. What else could it all mean? The lingering gazes, the routine 'good night's' and 'mornings' they exchanged, the little grazes of Leon's palm right between his shoulder blades as he moved past, knees brushing whenever they sat just a little to close to eachother at roll call. God, what else could it mean?

Then, the next minute, [Name]'s world seemed to dull around him the moment any womans name rolled off Leon's toungue. Dread would wrap its heavy hands around his throat and squeeze till every word died in mouth.

He never entertained the idea of a confession either. He'd built up something good with Leon, made himself a friend in an utterly imposing city, and a great one at that. It'd be selfish of him to throw it all out for something as trivial as this.

He often didn't trust himself enough to keep that promise most days. On late nights, especially. The two of them in the station, wasting away the night while they were supposed to be working. His teeth dug into his toungue much harsher those days.

"Hey," Leon's voice cuts through his thoughts, a rush of nerves and anxiety swiftly bunching in his gut in painful, tight knots.

[Name]'s eyes snap to Leon's, breath stilling. He worries he'd somehow given himself away. Was he thinking out loud, staring without realizing, or was there an undeniable want in his eyes he could never hide?

He takes in every inch of Leon's face, his expression, the slight twitch of his muscles beneath the skin of cheeks, the ones he were hardly aware of. A crease between his brows, bunched together, a tense pursing of his lips, the corners of his mouth twitching into a frown.

"You alright there?" Leon finally asks, head tipping to the side, blonde hair sweeping over his brow. From beneath the table, his foot nudges against [Name]'s.

"Yeah," [Name] breathes out all too quickly, the heat of embarrassment washing over his skin, his clothes feeling all the more unbearable. "Just a long night is all," he tries to laugh it off, bringing a coffee-warmed hand to the circles under his eyes, trying to rub them from his face, maybe give Leon something more pleasant to look at.

Leon's unconvinced. He usually is. This would all be much less nerve-wracking if he'd just been a smidge dumber.

"Right." Still, as he always does, he nods, face shifting into that smile of his. The overall softening of his features, lips tilting up, the edges of his top teeth peaking out as his lips part. This time around, his grin doesn't quite reach his eyes. "Well, you know I'm always here if you need anything."

"Yeah," [Name] pulls his gaze back down to his hands, leaning further back into his seat.

Leon was a hard man not to like, and this was just another example. Relentlessly compassionate and kind. Always there to stick his neck out for everyone and anyone. Just talking to him made everything feel so much lighter. [Name] wasn't even half the man Leon was, and it was nearly that reason alone [Name] knew Leon would always deserve much more than him.

"What was it?"

[Name]'s attention is swiftly brought back to Leon. "What was what?"

"Y'know... What was keeping you up?"

"Oh." You, god it was you-- it's always *fucking* you. A gwaing ache eating him from the inside out, cracking open his ribs and making a home in the deepest parts of his being. Arm wrapped around a pillow, face burried into the fabric, pretending he could hear a heart beating beneath the casing. Burring himself under layers of thick blankets, manufacturing a warm embrace. His own hand ran it's fingers up and down the side of his ribs, trying to imagine what it'd feel like if it wasn't his own touch for once. "Nothing really. Just uh, stayed up thinking, I guess."

"About what?

"Just, uh, paper work, and stuff... I dunno, really. You know how late nights can get," he weakly laughs. Every word that slipped from his tongue felt like an awkward caricature of what a normal person should sound like. "When I did manage to get to sleep-- it was really only for a few minutes, really. Felt more like a nap, really, but I feel like you can't really call them naps at night. I still ended up staying awake for most of the night, so. Uhm, but you were in my dream, actually."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah. It was about you-- or, I guess not *about* you. It's just, you were in it, like us-- you and me, I guess. So, it was kind of about us."

"Really?"

"Mhm."

"... Well, don't leave me hanging here. What happened?"

"I mean, I don't really know how to explain it," he mutters with a soft breath. He pulls a nerves breath from the tension-thick air around them, stuffy and near suffocating. He takes a hasty sip of his coffee, burning the tip of his tongue, holding back a wince. It was all an attempt to stall, to give himself a chance to get a damn grip. "We were in my house, like, my childhood house, back in my hometown. We were in my parents' room, but the furniture was all different-- like switched around, y'know? And we were just... sitting on the bed, folding some laundry."

"Folding laundry?" he repeats with a small laugh.

It felt remarkably real in the moment. He woke up nearly believing he'd fallen asleep in a pile of freshly washed clothes. He'd smelt the detergent, the warm of the clothes on his hands, the dip in the bed from Leon's weight in front of him.

"Yeah," [Name] attempted to echo the sound, voice cracking at the end. "Folding laundry. There was some song playing, but it wasn't really coming from anywhere. I didn't really recognize it, and to tell you the truth, I don't even remember what it sounded like, but we were both singing along. It wasn't all that bad."

But, he'd woken up to the dreery ceiling of his apartment, blankets half off his bed, yet still sweating.

"Doesn't sound all that bad," Leon concedes after a tentative sip of his coffee. "Not sure how happy I'd be after dreaming about chores. Can't say I enjoy doing laundry all that much.

"Yeah, I mean, me neither." His body moves without much thought behind it, mirroring Leon's as if second nature.

Nobody liked chores, laundry least of all, but some company made it feel all the better. He'd like it, [Name] thinks, at least. Something about the thought of standing by the sink, hands scrubbed away as dried food with a flimsy sponge, even if Leon just sat by the counter, talking about anything and everything. He could do that for hours. Shoving dirty uniforms into the washing machine, filling out tax forms, picking up around the apartment, arguing over identical paint swatches. Maybe they'd have a dastardly little creature running around, wreaking havoc; maybe a cat, maybe a kid. Existing with him.

It was stupid dream, one he'd do well to forget about as soon as he could

"... Anything else?"

"... Yeah, actually. You were wearing those bright-ass white shoes. Somehow, they looked even goofier than usual. So, pretty accurate a things considered."

[lysol1201]

OH MY GOODNESS, LEON WOULD LITERALLY BE SWEATING.

Knowing Leon; he’d probably show up in a fancy suit. Him and his now wife had been dating for a couple of months, having to push back when he’d finally be able to meet her parents because of work. He wanted to look presentable and nice, especially after finding out her father was a high ranking military official.

He’d probably show up with flowers in hand for your mother, giving her a hug as she kissed both of his cheeks and treated him like a baby. All while her father stood back and watch with his arms folded, poor guy was probably shivering as his girlfriend’s mother introduced her husband, giving Leon a nice firm nod and extending his hand out.

They had planned a nice little dinner together; His girlfriend and her mother would finish cooking in the kitchen as her father quite literally conducted an entire interview with Leon in the living room.

“What do you do for work?”

“What are you trying to do with my daughter?”

“How long were you in training for?”

Being the nice respectful guy he was, he’d reply with “No sir” or “Yes sir” to his questions. Go into further depth with the harder ones, really trying to get on the old man’s good side. They had a little talk about the army and stuff, listening to his old stories before your mother and you finally finished the food.

Dinner went well, so far your parents absolutely adored him. Especially your mother; she’d probably be telling your father “Can you believe it Dave? Our little girl with an amazing man like him! I know he’ll protect her, especially with that fancy government job he has!” Leon would just blush and thank her, smiling and happily eating his steak.

Let’s just say, as soon as he felt, your mother was already gossiping with you. Talking about how “Handsome” and “Strong” he was. You just blushed at giggled, agreeing with her every word.

- Anon! 🎀

Love this 🎀anon, but I have a feeling as soon as her father heard his name he knew who Leon was. Everybody knows everybody in certain lines of work!

The second he hears your father is a general in the military he has a lot of questions. He's questioning you and you're answering to the best of your abilities. But his rank pops up. Four star general... Your father is a four star general. One of the highest ranks you could possibly get...

Then his brain starts turning, your last name moving through his head until it finally sticks. He's scrubbed floors at the rumor of that man showing up. Knows stories of how ruthless he is and the things that man's done. Climbing ranks quickly in the Army with the amount of raw potential he had.

"General Tarkin..." You freeze for a minute looking at him.

"The Star Wars character?"

"No, the other cadets... They'd call him General Tarkin. I know your father... Well, know of your father. Never met him personally but I've heard he's... Terrifying." Your father? Terrifying? You laugh at the thought, smiling at your boyfriend who seems to look a lot more tense than he already was.

"Daddy's not terrifying. He's like a giant teddy bear if anything." Leon knows you mean well but the thought of meeting this man has his stomach in knots. Not only would he have to impress her parents but the man who he knew could do a lot of things to make his life more miserable if he pissed him off.

Leon was definitely gonna have some kind of stomach ulcer with the amount of stress by the end of the night.

Your mother adored him, wouldn't stop calling him handsome and welcoming him into the family without even thinking about it. But Leon could hardly focus feeling the generals burning glare on him from behind your doting mother.

As soon as Leon introduced himself, your father tightens his grip on Leon's hand.

"I know who you are boy."

Boy... That's the name Leon gets stuck with for a chunk of the night and sometime after.

Your father tells you to go help your mother with dinner and you happily follow. Leaving the two of them alone in the den. Sitting across from each other in silence for a few minutes.

"You know me?" Leon's the first to speak, your father still staring him down with his arms crossed.

"Hard not to. President Graham speaks highly of you for helping him with his daughter. We're friends, told him personally who my daughter was seeing and he couldn't stop talking about you." His face tightens as he leans forward, towards Leon.

"I've read the reports from '04. Know what you saw. But I don't take too kindly knowing my daughter's dating a man who skipped around in Spain with another woman. Even if it was to protect her."

Leon's at a loss for words. What even could he say!?

"What're your intentions with my daughter?" Oh thank God something he can answer.

"To be with her, Sir." The generals face softes slightly with a nod.

"You love her?"

"More than anything, Sir."

"You wanna marry her? Have a family?"

"When the time comes, Sir."

The grilling continued until you came in to save him with the news of dinner being done. Your father didn't say much after that. Your mother talking all through dinner and dessert.

Upon leaving you and Leon say your goodbyes and take off. Your mother looks at your father as he shuts the door and smiles.

"Well?" She questions, looking at him.

"He'll do fine." He says, smiling ear to ear.

[lysol1201]

Playground Love

ೀ older!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader

Tags: hurt/comfort, age gap (unspecified but reader is an adult), a lot of self doubt, talks about mommy and daddy issues, pet names (angel, princess, sweetheart).

W/C: 1.0k

A/N: studying? who is that? Anyways, this was supposed to be a cute ‘sitting on his lap would fix me’ but I got hit by existential crisis at 2am so angst.

"Wow, dating an older guy? That's so sophisticated!"

“Are you sure about this? Don’t you think there’s a reason why no one his age is dating him?”

"You get to date someone older? That's not fair! All I get are immature guys my age."

"Darling, I know you're an adult now, but dating someone significantly older... it just worries me. Are you sure you're on the same page?"

I love him.

At every reaction, you find yourself repeating the same phrase in your mind. It was a simple truth that anchored you amidst the swirl of opinions and doubts. Every concern, every envy—you faced them all with the same unwavering declaration.

But do you really love him?

The question lingered like a shadow, casting doubt on the certainty you had clung to so desperately. You couldn't shake the nagging feeling that perhaps you were merely caught up in the allure of dating someone older, mistaking infatuation for love. Or was it that you longed for attention from an older guy who could fill the void your absent father left?

You craved the paternal presence you had been denied, and in him, you found echoes of the guidance and affection you had longed for. 

"Dating someone older? Isn't that a bit... strange?"

"Why? Age is just a number, right?"

"Yeah, but... do you really think you're at the same stage in life?"

Oh, how naively optimistic you were. 

Perhaps you have been too quick to dismiss your loved one’s concerns, too eager to embrace the illusion of love in the arms of someone—his arms—who offered the fleeting promise of stability and security. 

“But he makes me feel loved and safe,”

“Does he?”

Was your love truly built to withstand the test of time, or was it merely a fleeting illusion, destined to crumble beneath the weight of your differences?

“Darling, can we talk for a moment?”

“Sure, Ma. What’s on your mind?”

"Well, I couldn't help but notice... you seem quite taken with this new guy you're seeing."

"Oh, you mean Leon? Yeah, we've been spending some time together."

"He's... older, isn't he?"

"Um, yeah, he is."

"I see... darling, I just want to make sure you're being careful. Dating someone older can bring its own set of challenges."

"I know, Ma. But he's different. He understands me in a way no one else does."

"I'm sure he does, dear…but promise me you'll take things slow and really get to know him before things get too serious."

"I promise, Mama.”

You've broken many promises with your mama, but why did this one hurt? Is it because you partially blame her for shaping you the way you are? Is it because she married your father? Maybe she would have lived a happier life if it weren't for him, if only.

But you thanked her, both her and him, for the lesson learned, for the wisdom imparted, for the love that had always been there, and for helping you recognise the kind of partner to avoid. 

You stood before the polished wooden door of Leon’s home office, your hand hovering in uncertainty over the ornate doorknob. Each second felt like an eternity as you battled with the torrent of doubts and fears that raged within you. 

You needed him, wanted him to hold you, and tell you that everything would be fine.

But what if he couldn’t understand your doubts? What if your confession shattered the fragile illusion of your love?

With a steady breath, you pushed aside your apprehensions and grasped the doorknob, steeling yourself for the conversation that lay ahead.

“What’s up, sweetheart?” His voice, gruff yet soft and reassuring, always managed to send shivers down your spine, freezing you in place. You couldn’t find the words to speak, and your throat suddenly dried.

Sensing your hesitation, he beckoned you closer with a gentle smile. You could see the experiences he went through, the complexities of adulthood etched into the lines that creased his weathered face.

“Come here, angel. Sit on my lap while I work.”

You obeyed, crossing the threshold into his office, your feet padding on the wooden floor as you made your way to him. Settling onto his lap, your linen dress pooled around you, the fabric soft against your skin. His arms encircled your waist, pulling you close, his rough touch sent warmth flooding through your veins.

You inhaled his scent, a mixture of citrus and wood, with a hint of something familiar: whisky. You thought he quit. Ready to question him, you opened your mouth, but he stopped you before you could question him.

“Don’t worry your pretty head, princess. I only drank a glass, I promised. I’m just a bit stressed.” 

“Mm, okay,” you replied, pushing aside your concerns for the moment as you melted into the warmth of his embrace.

You found solace in the familiar embrace of Leon's arms, the weight of your doubts momentarily forgotten as you leaned into his chest, burying your face against him. A few of his buttons were undone, allowing the soft hairs on his chest to brush against your face. 

"Is everything alright, angel?" Leon's voice, soft and concerned, pulled you back to the present moment.

"Yeah, everything's fine. I just want to stay like this, with you," you murmured, the words slipping out before you could second-guess yourself.

His arms tightened around you, drawing you closer, as if he could sense the hesitation in your voice. "Me too, princess. Me too," his stubble pricked your forehead as he murmured against them.

Oh, how weak you were. His voice and touch alone melted you into a puddle, and all your problems seemed to vanish in his embrace. Your mama wouldn’t be happy with how you turned out; she wished that you would never let a man make you weak like she was.

Closing your eyes, you allowed yourself to sink deeper into his embrace, letting go of the weight of your doubts and worries. In this moment, all that mattered was the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against yours.

Perhaps one day, when the time was right, you would find the courage to open up to him about your inner struggles. Until then, you cherished this moment, clawing in the warmth of his love.

Pressing a tender kiss to your forehead, Leon whispered softly, "I love you, angel.”

“I love you, too, Leon, always,” you replied. The words were a vow of unwavering devotion and love…was it really?

All women become like their mothers. That is their tragedy. No man does, and that is his.       

- Oscar Wilde

[lysol1201]

Angsty Sentence Starters #3

"Please, speak to me."

"I never wanted this."

"What else is there to do?"

"I am just so tired."

"You can't leave me alone."

"I don't know what that means!"

"Sorry, but I don't think I can do this any longer."

"Do you want me to fear you?"

"Why are you doing this to me?"

"I'm so sorry for anything I've done to you."

"This is nothing I ever wanted to happen."

"Can you please listen to me?"

"I am no longer accepting this."

"The uncertainty is killing me."

"Don't just walk away from me."

"It was never about winning."

"Tell me what I can do to make you stay."

"You are scaring me."

"Don't be afraid. It will be over soon."

"I can't save you if you don't want to be saved."

More: Angsty Masterpost

If you like my blog and want to support me, you can buy me a coffee or become a member! And check out my Instagram! 🥰

[lysol1201]

A Sinking Feeling [Chapter Two – I'm Lost (I'm Found) In You]

Summary: You and Leon go to your new home and those feelings threaten to swallow you whole – if your target doesn't end you first.

Pairing: Leon Kennedy x reader

Word count: 2859

Additional tags: canon-typical violence, awkward pining and practice

Author's note: Sorry the second chapter took so long to post. I got insanely busy irl and didn't have much time to edit this and get it formatted correctly. But I'm back now and back to making my favourite blonde man get hurt!

☣ read on ao3 ☣ | series masterlist

An agent escorted you and Leon to the large, luxurious house at the end of the block just at the edge of the small town – your new home for the next... month? Year? You don't know. No one gave you or Leon any idea how long it would take, if anyone knew. As if anyone ever truly had an idea what was going to happen to the both of you after you left the hotel room.

This was to be your new home. Until it wasn't.

The agent stayed long enough for you and him to get out, hand outstretched for payment; an envelope filled with cash, hiding the packaging from the sim cards now safely tucked away within your burner phones. A similar envelope is put in your hands; replacement for the payment.

They're gone as quick as they came, leaving you and him alone as you walked into your new home with your suitcases at your side. The house is massive, towering above you and him, simplistic compared to the other houses nearby but still costing more than you and Leon could ever make in your lives combined. The porch is equally large, dark hardwood a stark contrast to the simple white siding of the house, windows to the inside showing the dark red curtains within and hints of the lights on inside. Even the front door is expensive looking, plain white with an ornate brass doorknob. Fancy but enough to be hard to deal with if it were too cold outside.

You took Leon’s hand, ignoring the butterflies fluttering in your stomach. The street may be empty now but the show was on whether you liked it or not. All eyes were on you and your ‘husband’. If you dared look at the other houses lining the street, you were certain you’d see eyes watching.

Leon opened the door, his other hand remained intertwined with yours as he led you inside.

It's even more simple on the inside, outwardly flashy, inwardly, comfortable. Simple. Still, luxurious, much more so than you or him were accustom to, but nonetheless, simple compared to other houses on the block. Everything is neat, clean, furniture all but begging for you to sink down into it and sleep for days.

If it weren’t for the threat of being found out, you could've thought it was only an insanely luxurious all expenses paid vacation. If the D.S.O. actually cared about you and Leon past your usefulness to them. It was only for show, if you dared look past the pretty exterior, you’d find everything could fall apart at the slightest movement.

"This is nice," he mused, looking around the house. As the door closed behind you, lock clicking into place, his hand dropped from yours. He stayed close, not leaving too much space between you.

"Yeah," you agreed. Walking further into the house, looking around at the new place you find yourself in the kitchen. Settling down at the small island, envelope in front of you, you wait for Leon, sunlight glinting off the ring on your finger.

"Bills, huh?" he joked as he took a seat beside you.

"Everyone always wants our money," you responded with a soft sigh.

He opened the envelope, taking out the thick package of papers hidden within. Inside, marriage certificates, dates and everything there, everything including yours and his signatures, staring down at you.

Your stomach churned at the sight.

He dug through it more, finding the real reason for it all. Letters from to an unknown agent – you can only hope it’s not from someone you knew – giving what little extra information that could end this easier.

The first one is hastily scribbled by hand, obviously photocopied, the rest typed out.

Subject: (None) From: ███████████ █████████████████ Enclosed is all my findings on the recent arrests of those belonging to the trafficking ring known as Galea Styx. I hope these can be of use to you, as Empress has found my location. I will not be submitting any more information as it may be too late already. By the time you read these, I am most likely dead.

Leon sighed, closing his eyes briefly as he read through the first of many pages. You don't need to see what part he's at to know.

File 1: The Empress Empress has been known to authorities from a young age, crimes ranging from petty theft, all the way up to murder which was written off as accidental manslaughter at the time, but had been confessed to much later in her brief stay in prison. Any records of her have been wiped away from official documents. Since then, Empress has changed her legal name, I do not know what it is now. She is a danger to everyone. Incredible caution is needed near her. Do NOT take her unimposing stature lightly. Empress has no formal training however it hasn't slowed her down. Each crime has gotten progressively more deadly to those around her. Even those closest to her in Galea Styx have been known to be killed for any range of offenses, including misspeaking.

"Sounds like a lovely woman," he murmured, eyes never leaving the pages. You look down at the photos of Empress, the photos ranging from up close, almost perfect, suited for the high praise of models, to blurry messes, the only visible parts the crimson as it soaked her skin and the perfect sky blue hair atop her head like a crown.

File 2: Galea Styx Galea Styx is a ruthless gang, borne from Empress' ruthlessness in the local gang population. Most members have defected or been captured from rival gangs. All members are fiercely loyal to her, all quoting that she is their "Queen" and have proven to die for her, no matter the circumstances. Do not engage without proper means to defend yourself.

“Of course they're loyal," you sighed. "Can't make it easy for us…”

“Loyal?” Leon questioned, looking up at you finally. “Or scared shitless?”

You both know the real answer. And it terrified you.

Loyalty is easy to anticipate. It is as easy as breathing for you and him, something that didn't take thought. Simple actions, no thoughts. A dog on a leash, awaiting the next command. That you understood.

Fear was never easy to anticipate, to prepare for. Fear and a leash only meant more danger than the most deadly guard dog, it's actions only leading to further bloodshed. No one knew what it's next actions were, not even the dog.

File 3: B.O.W. Involvement Empress had focused on drug trafficking for most of her life, however in recent years she has turned her attention to B.O.W. trafficking, including Las Plagas and Uroboros. I have no idea how she was able to obtain samples of Uroboros, besides a single sighting of her and ███████ ██████ before the latter's death in 2009. Even more worrying, there seems to be a new type of B.O.W. in her possession. There are no sources on what this new B.O.W. is, only brief rumors of “dismantling” someone or something [with it]. She has not been seen creating any B.O.W., known or otherwise, instead all of her focus seems to be on this new B.O.W.. I do not know where it is from, there are only rumors from it being from China. In the one document I found, there was no originating city, only the half-scribbled out signature “.W.” appeared in any documents alongside it. Infection rate in Galea Styx is currently unknown. Assume complete infection.

Leon tensed up, shoulders hunched as he read, worry radiating off of him. As sudden as it appeared, it was pushed aside. "Great," he groaned, heaving a sigh as he looked down at the files in his hands. "Just keeps getting better."

You remained quiet. There was nothing more to be said, not when you knew he was thinking the same thing as you were.

The further into this mission you went, the worse the sinking feeling got.

How could they send in a lone agent, knowing what Empress did? Even knowing the risks, no one person, no matter how formidable, stood a chance against her and the countless humans – and monsters – she controlled.

What could only two agents possibly do better while she expected more spies? If it weren't for the simple fact you and Leon were too valuable of a resource, a weapon, it'd feel more like this was only meant to clean up loose ties.

It would not have been the first time and neither you nor Leon were lucky for it to have been the last.

***

The first night is rough, somehow worse than the first day. There's only one bed, not big enough to be comfortable for you or him – for a married couple certainly, but not whatever you and Leon were. It’s cramped, uncomfortable and lent far too easily to rolling over into one another.

You both spent more time shifting in the small sides you'd slunk away to, hiding away from one another as if even just being near would lead to something deadly. Tossing and turning all night, you barely slept.

In the few hours you did get, Leon left at some point, leaving you alone in the cold bed sheets with the quiet hum of familiar music playing over the radio.

Awkward didn't even begin to cover how you felt, how everything that shouldn't matter now left you second guessing everything.

In the morning it got even more awkward.

The one thing you feared the most. Practice.

It's just practice, he told you, a nervous expression on his face, barely hidden under the hard exterior he'd tried to put up – more practice for later. It's practice. Practice for the real deal, for making the fake marriage seem believable.

Sure, you could pretend it was a failing marriage and act as if his touch burned – you could, for it did, in a very different way. It wouldn't explain the longing looks tossed your way when you'd gotten too far away from his side.

No, it had to be a believable, solid marriage.

Until it wasn't. Until it wasn't convenient, or until it was over. Whichever came first.

You'd been warned, whatever you did, it had to be believable, that you truly loved one another, or you didn't. Hate was out of the question and you both knew it, lending to even more embarrassment. The practice for the real thing only further feeding the pit of shame festering within.

You couldn’t hate one another. You couldn’t look like two lovesick puppies on their first date ever.

It had to look believable.

The first kiss was awkward, your teeth unintentionally scraping across his bottom lip, earning a quiet groan from him, much to your pleasure that was quickly hidden far away in your mind. It wasn’t planned, though acting as if you’d never kissed someone before or doing it on purpose were equally very, very bad.

“Sorry,” you murmured quietly, hiding away the spark of pleasure and pride for being the one to coax the sound out of him. Shame quickly replaced it however. How could you feel this way for him?

"It's okay," he leaned in again, hand placed on your chin to halt your almost eagerness. He closed his eyes first, lips grazing yours once again.

It's soft, tender, loving.

The pit of shame grew with every heartbeat, threatening to burst and take you down with it.

He pulled away first, looking at you, watching your every movement and you nearly burst into tears.

You couldn't keep this up. It was wrong and if Empress didn't kill you, the steadily growing pit of shame would certainly swallow you whole. How could you ever think you could pretend to just pretend you loved him?

"Try not to bite me again," he murmured, breaking you out of the downward spiral. Thumb brushing over your cheek, resting over the corner of your lips as he stared at you, somehow pulling you along while pushing you further into the abyss. “You’re not that innocent… are you?” he added quietly, teasing and curious all at once.

You want to say something, you want to confess. I like you. I love you. I need you in my life more than I need to breathe.

Instead of saying the stupid words on the tip of your tongue, all but begging to be released, you chose other stupid words, words that won't destroy it all and leave you in ruins but instead string you along further.

"Just for that, I'll bite you every time," you replied, giving him a forced smile. He saw through it before the words left your lips, the question almost out of his before you turned your head slightly and nipped at his thumb.

The question died on his lips and he just smiled, shaking his head slightly. Not quite the laugh you'd hoped for, though you didn't give it much thought, not when if he'd actually done it, it might've been the final crack within the dam holding back everything.

You laughed at his amusement, trying to ignore the pit within you.

Mistake after mistake, yet you kept taking a step backward, despite all the warnings.

You were ruined beyond repair and the more steps you took, the less the leash could hold you back even as it left you choking on air.

***

Leon was certain this mission was going to kill him.

Every mission could, no where in this world was truly safe for him anymore. But this? This was certainly going to be the end of him.

It’d been years since he first met you, years since that fateful night that spelt the beginning of the end. All of it spiraling down into this fucked up mission that refused to let go now that it’s claws were latched into his throat.

He still remembered that first night, one of the few nights that remained crystal clear throughout everything that ruined his memory. You, stumbling into his office, escorted by a soldier he didn’t remember the name of, clothes ragged and bloodied. Eyes so cold you could’ve turned anyone to stone.

The face of a woman dragged through Hell and down into somewhere far worse. He pitied you – he knew the feeling, knew what had happened in the room you’d just been dragged out of.

He’d been there too, once upon a time.

You were all ‘his’, the soldier had told him, all but tossing you at his feet.

You didn’t know him, didn’t trust him. Expected the worst – he couldn’t blame you. Not even as your first words ever spoken to him were “touch me and I’ll break your nose”… right before breaking his nose, as he tried to help you to your feet.

He should have known better than to reach out right away, you’d been far too furious to cower away at his offered hand unlike he’d been back then. It was simply habit – you were hurt, he had to help. He hadn’t thought of anything else. The moment your fist had connected with his face only further ruined him, the overwhelming feeling further cementing that you were the one.

That feeling only ever got stronger, more deadly over the years. He still had a faint scar across his nose.

It was the beginning of the end. And his end? Practice.

He didn’t know why he said it. Practice. What moron said that? Him, apparently. It wasn’t unbelievable, he remembered the words Ingrid had told him just before leaving. Whatever you do, make it believable. It wouldn’t be believable if he acted like he’d never kissed anyone – and he’d never be able to pull off hatred.

Somehow, pretending to not be a lovesick idiot who was in love with you was even harder than pretend hatred. Everything melted away as your lips touched him, his body reacting way too eagerly when you’d accidentally bit him – what was he? A teenager?

He’d wanted to crawl into a hole and die when he’d groaned. After everything, countless monsters, the D.S.O. and every other fucked up thing in his life, that’s what truly made him want to curl up and completely give up. His only saving grace was your obvious awkwardness, the anxiety giving him something else to focus on than himself.

You didn’t deserve to see his fucked up thoughts and he’d do anything to make sure you were okay. However, it didn’t really work when you seemed to brush off every attempt to make sure you were okay.

Leon was completely and utterly fucked – and definitely not in a fun way. No matter what he did, this mission was going to kill him. Fuck up during the mission and Empress would kill him, no doubt in some creative way that’d make his skin crawl just thinking of, or fuck up with you and lose one of the most important people in his life. Neither one was a good option.

He just had to hope that for once, luck was on his side.

[lysol1201]

dilf leon headcanons:

- leon never realized that he had a breeding kink. rip

- leon and you finally had a baby and he is trying to pretend it isn't a huge goal of his

- when he bottle feeds the baby, he falls asleep on the couch

- he wants to help the best he can, he isn't a lazy husband or father.

- if you work and can't bring the baby, leon has a baby carrier wrap while he is working at the government.

- when he has missions, he has a locket picture of you, him and his baby

- he calls you mama and you don't know if you should cringe or love it

- once the newborn begins to crawl. leon's baby fever grows again and you have to push him off of you

- if he goes in missions, he buys the baby toys and he throws them into his bag before fighting a bow

- he gets a brilliant idea to pet a puppy for his child. he wants them to grow up together. you two take care of both the baby and the dog.

- he is annoying about his child

- the gender of the baby doesnt matter, he braids their hair and loves to teach them self-defense. he doesn't feel he needs a son to show off how to be leon kennedy's child. leon wants his children to be 'cool' like him

- leon has never been happier. it's all he ever wanted

[lysol1201]

okay but like what if Leon is the famous one in the relationship. The whole RE universe is a movie or show and he’s popular. You’re out here devouring his fanfics. Then he found out….or u writing one —then what 🧍‍♀️

I weirdly see Leon as a mom vlogger. He’s one of those😭

(If you ever call Leon a mommy vlogger again it's curtain calls for anon. I will not rest until I find you)

(this is a joke pls don't come for me...)

I'm thinkiiiiing...

Actor! Leon x Assistant! Reader (Post Damnation era)

BUT YOU READING HIS FANFICTION!!!

He knew his fans read and wrote this stuff. Draw him, write about him. Character and him alike. The screenwriters literally wrote everyone's characters based off of who they actually were. So in a way his RE character is an extension of himself but everyone can still differentiate between the two. So he doesn't mind anyone doing this.

He's gotten fanmail with art, copies of fanfiction and even just fan accounts constantly interacting with his social media posts. But one particular account seems to interact with him a lot, R4Kennedy.

No idea who it is but whatever.

Eventually he starts getting a lot of offers from different companies for commercials, brand deals, appearances, ect. He starts getting a bit overwhelmed with things so he hands off some responsibilities to his lovely assistant, you. You get to do most of his social media stuff. But he still likes scrolling around, liking things, retweeting/reblogging stuff and making his own posts life update posts on occasion. But he'd notice the lack of interaction from that one account on posts he specifically didn't make. But the second he'd personally post something he gets responses from R4Kennedy.

Super weird...

He'd accidentally found out by having to use your laptop to check a few things because his computer was having issues. You two know each other well, you've worked for him for years now, practically live together. So you don't even think to close out your open tabs... Tabs to your social accounts...

Leon is too nosy curious for his own good so he ends up opening the tabs.

You're R4Kennedy... He starts looking through the fics you've liked, everything you've said about him, even the things you've written.

You're a good writer, he'll give you that. A lot more brave online versus your usual mousey demeanor on the clock. Maybe you were interested in him and we're just shy? The thought crosses his mind constantly.

But he keeps this information for himself for a while.

Eventually he uses it. A day you're looking particularly good. He's been attracted to you for a while but was scared of scaring you off with his abrasive nature.

But you're making a coffee for yourself in his kitchen and he ends up saying your account name. You tense up immediately and just look back at the massive grin on his face. He says nothing else before he walks out.

He knows. And now you know he knows. And he's definitely going to hold this over your head for a while...

[lysol1201]

Violet would bring Leon to her show and tell day at school, practically bragging about how her daddy’s was a high government official. She’d give a brief description of his job, all while little ‘Wow!’ And ‘Ooo’s!’ Echoed throughout the classroom.

Everyone found it cool—especially the boys. They’d ask him questions, he’d show his cool little DSO badge, tell them stories that won’t traumatize a set of 7/8 year olds. The boys in the class would obviously ask if he has a gun, he just laughs it off and says ‘Maybe.’

After that day; all of her classmates were convinced that she had the coolest daddy in the world.

- Anon! 🎀

(P.S. Love you too pookie <3)

Also, all the kids ask if he has a cruiser like a cop does to which he just responds "No, but I do drive a motorcycle."

Insert room full of gasps here

Violet has kids begging to be invited to her house for playdates constantly and kids fighting over party invites for birthdays, sleepovers or just little get togethers.

But that's when Leon and her mom have to sit her down and talk about what real friends are like because some kids are mean. Very mean...

I'd imagine some kid in her class would start picking on her out of jealousy from so many people thinking her dad is cool. And wanting to be her friend.

This kid... He's a massive asshole for a 7-8 year old.

Now Leon is a pretty docile parent. Would much rather sit down and talk it out with the kids parents but his wife.... Mama bear. Do. No. FUCK. With her family...

Has definitely had Leon had to drag her away at PTA meetings or school functions to not fight this kids dad. She doesn't give a shit if he's a grown man or twice her size. She's not scared to fight a man.

As often as Leon has had to haul his wife away he still appreciates her being a strong woman. This is the kind of woman he wants their daughters to become. People who defend others and fight for their beliefs. Even if he can't always do that himself he values those who do.

It's part of the reason why he fell in love with you in the first place. (I'm gonna make myself cry...)

Eventually this kid becomes a nuisance and Violet gets permission to tell this kid off without censoring herself. And my God does that little lady have a mouth on her...

A WEEKS WORTH OF DETENTION!

But her parents fight with the school to get it off her record because the kid comes clean about being a little dick.

When Violet got home and told her parents what happened they both make sure she knows she did the right thing. Reassure her and reward her for sticking up for herself by taking her and baby Cecilia for ice cream. And she gets a toy.

They honestly can't not spoil her...

[lysol1201]

Leon would definitely match with his little girl daily if it was possible. :3

His little princess is wearing a pretty light blue dress? Now he has to wear a light blue shirt. She’s wearing a pink gingham dress? He’s got the perfect pink button up for that.

They’d wear silly matching shirts aswell like those stupid ‘Her daddy’ and ‘His girl’ shirts, or the ‘Original’ and ‘Carbon copy’ one’s. The day she finally grows up and tells him she doesn’t wanna match anymore because it’s ’embarrassing’ is the day his world shatters.

He’d come crying to you at the realization his baby girl is growing up, especially when she goes from saying ‘daddy’ to ‘dad’. :(

- Anon! 🎀

MATCHING OUTFITS I CAN'T 😭

These shirts... Perfect!

But like imagine Leon's just freaking out cause he feels like he's losing her little girl. He'd be fucking devastated...

You two are laying in bed after putting your baby girl to bed. Leon laying on his side, head in your lap as you calm him down. Whipping his tears away.

"Honey, did really you think she'd want to wear the outfits forever?" Leon turns on his back, he stares up at you with red glassy eyes and a nose to match. You brush his hair back trying desperately to keep your giggles at bay from what seems like such an over reaction.

"She's my baby... Our only baby! When I picked her up from school today, she called me Dad. DAD!" He rubs his forehead with a sniffle, you brush his cheek with your thumb, a small smile pulling at your lips as he leans into your hand.

"It was bound to happen." He glares up at you, crossing his arms like a petulant child. Soon his expression turns to a pout as he huffs.

"Easy for you to say, she still calls you Mommy," he takes in a deep breath, pondering a thought as you roll your eyes, "can we have another baby?"

"Lee..." He sits up looking back at you, hair slightly messy from your fingers playing with it.

"C'mon! It be nice to have another baby. Plus it was so beautiful watching you waddle around in your little dresses while you glowed like the God damn sun... I miss it." Your nose wrinkles as he turns towards you, pulling you into his chest. Looking into your eyes with that puppy dog stare.

"Don't give me that look. I'm not getting pregnant again just to give you your best friend back..."

"What if I got her a puppy?" Your head cranes back, looking at the ceiling with a deep sigh.

"Are you suggesting you'd bribe a 6 year old to love you?" Leon freezes for a minute, looking down at the sheets, getting abnormally quiet even for him.

"...yes."

"Oh my God, you're the most dramatic man I've ever met in my life..."

[lysol1201]

Making spaghetti for dinner but you’re mad at Leon so u make him watch u break the pasta.

His half Italian ass: 😦

No no, break the pasta, throw cold jar sauce on it and serve it to him. Bone Apple Teeth Italian boy

[lysol1201]

infinite darkness leon changed his personality a bit. you dated him after the raccoon city tragedy so he tried to changed his shell shocked issues. he wanted you to see him like he used to be. joking. cute. and flirty as hell. he lost the person he once was. he just wished you saw him before the zombies. before anything ever happened.

he wished his trauma could be the one who forgot, but it seemed he remembered even more than you. saving you was one of the best things he ever did.

you noticed those small changes. leon tried to invite you for dinners or even trying to go on different dates. "oh, you would love the aquarium." leon held your hand tightly against his. when you two looked up at the fishes, you rested your head on his shoulder. you needed to tell this man you loved him. not just his actions of heroism. you needed to tell leon it is okay to cry.

[lysol1201]

Would be willing to write a part two for heels over head? it's so good and I'd like to request it if so

Don’t Take My Heart, Don’t Break My Heart

Leon Kennedy X Chubby! Single-Mom! Reader

Part 1

Leon watches Finn for you, and he gets to know you a bit better

Y/N: I'm really glad you liked the first part! I was a little worried it was a little aimless but I did plan to do another part. Lowkey I need to write more older Leon. At this point I might need another part for this story

(Title from "Head over Heels" by Tears for Fears)

Leon double-checks his apartment, making sure it doesn't look like a disaster. Better yet, that a kid won't get into anything they aren't supposed to. He here's the knock at his apartment door and tenses up a bit. Taking a deep breath, he opens the door greeted by you and Finn.

"Hey!" You smile brightly and wave.

"Hi, Mr. Leon!" Finn greets him with a smile. His backpack is secure on his shoulders.

"Hey to you both," He says softly, opening his door wider for you both to enter. Finn enters before you, finding a spot on Leon's couch, you approach him.

“Okay Finn, be good for Leon please.” You kiss his forehead as he nods eagerly. You turn to Leon with a soft smile. "Thanks again for doing this for me."

"It's no problem," he brushes it off with a wave with of his hand. "We're neighbors after all." He assures you with a soft smile. You give him a smile back, really appreciating all that he was doing for you.

"I should be back by eight, and you know you don't have to feed him. I can definitely do that."

"I don't mind." Leon assures you, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. "Finn is in safe hands." You look at him, and as his blue eyes meet yours. You believe him and trust him.

"You boys have fun." You say with a smile and a wave.

"Bye mom!" Finn says happily as he watches you leave. His legs kicking as he sits on the sofa.

"Alright buddy... you want to do anything?" Leon turns to Finn curiously.

"Mom says I have to finish homework first." He sighs thinking about it.

"Oh gotcha, if you need any help let me know." Leon adds on before leaving Finn to do his work. He tried to not worry too much about him as he did his own thing.

Leon doesn't know how he ended up on the floor on the floor with Uno cards and an eight year old but he that's where he was.

"Okay... I pick red." Leon decides after thinking for a moment. Finn can't hide his smile as he puts down his final card.

"I win!" The boy declares happily.

"Dang, you got me!" He declares feigning upset. He watches as the boy celebrates, and Leon smiles softly. As he watches the bright smile on his face, he can't help but think of Sherry. When they were traveling together after Raccoon city. A knock at the door distracts him from their game. "Wait here for a minute," he tells the boy before he stands. Groaning a bit as he does, he opens to the door to see you with a smile and slightly exhausted look.

"Mom!" Finn runs up and hugs you tightly. You hug him back squeezing him a bit. He rushes off to grab his things, leaving you and Leon in the doorway.

"How was he?" You ask softly.

"Great, he's a really good kid." Leon assures you gently. "And if you ever need help again don't hesitate, okay..?" He looks at you with a soft look in his kind blue eyes. You nod gently in return.

"Thank you..." You reply softly, feeling your cheeks getting a little warm from his gaze. Leon notices and feels his own face get warmer.

"Got everything!" Finn announces happily, his backpack secure on his shoulders. Interrupting whatever was happening between you and Leon.

"Alright, ready to go home?" You ask Finn gently to which he nods eagerly. "Thank you again, Finn say thank you."

"Thank you Mr. Leon!" He replies happily. "I had fun!" He adds on cheerfully, to which the man can't hide a smile.

"It was no problem." Leon says with a nod. You turn to leave but the man suddenly grabs your shoulder gently. You look to him, his blue eyes meeting yours. "I-I'll see you around, right?" A smile comes to your lips.

"I'd be disappointed if I didn't." You say your cheeks red and he only nods breathlessly.

"Yeah..." Is all he can manage to say as he watches you and your son return to your apartment. His cheeks warm as he shuts the door to his apartment.

[lysol1201]

A Kiss Goodnight | Leon Kennedy x Fem! Reader

Fluff for Leon since he's a cutie. I picture RE2 (after Racoon City) or RE4 Leon in this but you can choose which ever one you like more.

WC: 1.1K

CW: Leon being a sweetheart? Pet names, kisses (duh), angst/fluff. Mentions of Leon's struggles after RC.

➽───────────────────────❥

Working for the government was hard, especially after just getting dragged into it without a choice. Life was hard for Leon ever since that fateful night where he believed he shouldn't have lived. Luck was too kind to him, but the consequences of luck is always regret. Mission after mission, bioweapon after bioweapon Leon was tired. All he could think about was getting back to you. You were his saving grace, his only way to escape the pain. Even if it was only for a second, a minute, a hour, a day. You helped in a way where he was indebted to you for the rest of his life. Driving home, all he could think about was you. How you warmed him up after a hard time shooting and murdering anything that was diseased. He was yours, and you were his.

Leon shortly arrived home, sluggish in his movements as he took off his work boots and coat. His bag thrown into the corner of the doorway as he sighed heavily. Finally, his body could relax. Tense movements slowly turned into tired movements as he brought himself to the bathroom. Seeing a new cut on his face and blood and mud splatted on him. It never really was a nice sight. The house was silent, you were asleep. Something that wasn't unusual as the clock ticked to 3 AM. You never really knew if Leon would come back from his mission, that sense of worry hung low over you. Causing distress as every call you received could be Hunnigan's voice. Informing you of Leon's death, but you were lucky enough to not have that, not yet at least. As you slept peacefully, Leon showered and cleansed himself from his own sin. His murderous intent and sorrow washing down along with the dirt covering his body. The towel gently wrapping around his waist, he walked into your shared bedroom. Where you laid asleep, seeming to be cuddling a pillow in hopes of getting the same satisfaction of Leon having you in his arms.

Leon couldn't help but smile looking at you as he walked past the bed to his dresser, getting a pair of boxers and sweatpants. Quickly changing to soon sink himself to his side of the bed. Soft. Everything was soft around him. The pillow his head laid on, the new sheets and most importantly you. Getting under the covers he felt your bare skin touch his. Your shorts and t-shirt hugging you in a cozy way. Without thought, he wrapped his arms around your body. Nuzzling his face into your neck, there was no intention of waking you up... But it was bound to happen as he gripped you tightly. Giving you no chance to escape you whined as you woke up.

"Sorry baby... You just looked so warm." He mumbled into your neck as he gave a sweet kiss on your skin. Wriggling yourself to at least turn around to face him, you notice the fresh cut on his face. "What happened?" You whispered, still in a half sleepy state. It always worried you seeing him hurt, but Leon always reassured you he was okay. "Just a cut from the mission, nothing to worry about." He softly smiled, you couldn't help but replicate the smile. A gentle kiss on the nose is what Leon felt from your smooth lips. "You okay?" You asked as your hands wandered down his chest, carefully wrapping your arms around him. Ensuring you weren't going to hurt him in the process. "Everything is okay when I'm with you..." He murmured, slowly enveloping you in a sweet kiss. "God.. I missed you so much, you smell so good" He whispered to you in a gentle tone. Much different to the aggression towards the bioweapons he previously fought only hours before.

"I missed you too.. so much." You whispered back, a giggle following short afterwards as you felt him playing with your hair. "I love you." Was all Leon could say as he admired you in his arms, admiring his lover was his favourite thing to do in this situation. "I love you more." You poked at his cheek as you kissed him again. Soft kisses with him were heavenly, otherworldly. The clock ticked 3:30 AM, it really was time to sleep. Mellowed breathing was soon shared between you two as you held each other. Enjoying the comfort of one another as you were glad he returned home. He was glad for everything. Glad to live in a lifetime with you in it - he would protect you no matter the cost.

"Can't sleep?" You slowly opened your eyes, still feeling him stare at you. "No, kinda hard to." He muttered, relapsing the past mission in his mind. "Wanna talk about it?" Rubbing his arm always calmed him down, made him feel safe for once. Safe from the horrors of this world that he swore in his heart nobody else should face or see. That he would be the one to protect people, to save people. Even if that meant him deteriorating his own mental stability. At least others would be saved. But he didn't need to be the hero with you. He could just be Leon. A man who was lost in his own train of thought, still a young boy in his heart yearning for answers to why he was chosen to face dread at every moment of his life. Sadly, beggars can't be choosers. Although he had one choice in his life, and that was you. He would always choose you. Always. "Not right now.. Just wanna have you in my arms." You felt a peck on your forehead, a grin spreading across your face. "Okay. Well I'm always here for you Leon." Reassurance was vital for you and Leon. The slightest amount of praise to Leon was all he needed to crumble into your arms. He could be himself with you. "Thank you Y/N, I really appreciate you. So much." His voice cracked, tears slowly gathering in his eyes. What did he do in his last life to deserve you? Gentle hands caressed his face as he wept, your kisses taking away the pain.

Minutes passed, Leon's cries slowly disappeared as he cuddled you. Staring into each others eyes, you felt yourself slowly slip into a sleepy state. Same with Leon, he couldn't hold his eyes open much longer. Not when you gave him a warm like no-one else did. "I have one request." He hushed out as he rubbed your back with his calloused hands. "Mm?" You murmured out, melting into his touch.

"One more kiss goodnight?"

➽───────────────────────❥

Someone tell this man everything is gonna be okay.

[lysol1201]

Swipe Right

Leon Kennedy x female reader, commissioned piece Lots of dumb fluff ahead! Thanks so much to the lovely @porcelainseashore for commissioning me with the brief of Leon using a dating app! I've said it before and I'll say it again - please do go check out Porcelain's fics! x

“So,” Leon places his elbows on the counter behind, leans back and flashes a winning smile, “how about dinner later?”

The auburn-haired woman waits for her coffee to finish dispensing before she shakes her head, lips pursed. “No, thank you, Agent Kennedy.”

“Oh.” He was sure they’d had some sort of connection. Their eyes had met across the office on more than one occasion, flirtatiously so – had he read it wrong? “You have plans already tonight?”

“Mm, something like that.” She smiles, politely, picking up her DSO-branded mug and heading out of the break room without so much as a glance back.

Leon shrugs it off – he’s good at that – and places his own mug under the spout, about to make his coffee selection when a familiar voice chirps over his shoulder.

“Have you ever thought of internet dating?”

He spins round, surprised. “Claire?”

“Hi.” She waves with a smile. “So, internet dating?”

Leon’s brow furrowed, about to ask why she was here, but from the visitor lanyard around her neck it was clear it was down to some sort of TerraSafe business, but why is she going on about internet dating?

Oh.

“Wait, did you hear…?”

“The dinner invite? Oh, yes.” She nods, crossing her arms. “Does that ever work?”

“Yes.”

Claire quirks an eyebrow.

“Okay, not recently.” He retorts, turning back around and pressing the button for his black coffee to start dispensing.

“Uh-huh…” She steps forward, turns to lean against the counter to look at him. “I’m telling you, Leon - internet dating. I finally convinced Chris to give it a go about six months back, and he seems pretty happy. Been seeing a nice girl for three months now – a florist.”

Leon shakes his head, watching the coffee dispense with feigned interest. “Surprised Redfield went for it. How the hell do you introduce anyone to what we’ve seen?” At least with women from work, he didn’t have to skirt around what the hell he does all day.

“Heard of keeping work and homelife separate?”

“And Chris manages that?”

“I mean, she knows what he’s shared with her, but he took it slow. It’s not like the government can keep everything secret these days – not with everyone having a smart phone.” Claire grimaces, remembering the videos of the Alcatraz attack popping up on social media on a live stream. It was taken down pretty quick, but still popped up occasionally. They can’t hide it forever.

“Anyway, enough about Chris’ love life, I’m trying to help yours. Have you tried it? There’s websites and apps…”

Leon recalls a week of medical leave – battered, bruised and laid out on the couch on high doses of meds, flipping through the cable channels and losing hours to a show about people falling in love over the internet, only for the person to be using a fake photo of an entirely different identity and being crushed when they met in person.

“Isn’t that where the catfish are?”

Claire rolls her eyes. “We won’t set your radius that large.”

He looks down, a little confused. “My… radius?”

Leon’s not present on social media, but that’s hardly a surprise with his work. Maybe, if things had been different, he would’ve trawled through it at some point – joined a group for graduates from the Police Academy of ’98, checked in, gone to some sort of graduating class reunion where they would’ve swapped stories from precincts over a lukewarm beer or two in a hall dressed up with balloons and streamers.

Come to think of it, he doesn’t really remember the names of anyone in his graduating class, though he’s not sure if that’s down to a certain amount of knocks to the head throughout his career getting to him. He could look them up – they’ll be in some sort of database somewhere that Hunnigan could help him locate, but what would he say?

“Me? Well, I had one day on the job – hell of a first day, actually – and then I was ‘recruited’ into military training, so technically not a cop anymore either.”

“Phone, please.” Claire has moved to sit down at one of the small tables in the kitchen, now holding out her hand expectantly. He finds himself joining her, mug of coffee in one hand and the other pulling out his cell from his suit jacket pocket. He hands it over because it’s Claire and he’s known her long enough now to know she’s not going to drop the subject so easily.

“Have you got any selfies on here?”

“Don’t think so. Why?”

“To put on your profile. Anything I shouldn’t see in your gallery?”

He shakes his head.

“Seriously, Leon?” She must’ve opened the app by the way she’s scrolling down on the screen. “These are all sunsets and photos of your motorcycle.”

“What should I be picking pictures of?”

“Oh, wait… Here’s one.” She turns the phone around. It’s him, grinning, next to a corpse of a zombiefied lion. “I repeat – seriously, Leon?”

“Ha, yeah.” He smiles in acknowledgement. “I was trying to get Hunnigan interested in fieldwork with the spectacular sights.” Claire turns the phone back around and the sound of a camera shutter clicks out of the speaker.

“Ooh, that’s a good candid – and no-one needs to know what you were looking at.”

“Look, it’s nice of you to offer, but I don’t know about all this…” He rubs the back of his head.

“It’s 30 days free. Just try it and if you still don’t like it by the end of the trial, you can delete it off your phone and I won’t bring it up again.”

He stalls, taking a long sip of his coffee as he thinks. Claire means well, after all and if Chris has had luck with it, considering what Leon knows he’s seen and lived through, what does he have to lose, really?

“Fine. 30 days.”

“Great! Now, let’s set up your profile…”

--

Claire had given him a tutorial – swipe left if you’re not interested on a profile, right if you are. If the person swipes right in return, it’ll set you up as a match and you can start a conversation – signaled by a small speech bubble icon appearing on the bottom right.

It wasn’t until that evening that Leon tried it out properly, sat on his couch, killing time before bed and begins to swipe through. It feels a little odd – he usually likes to get to know a person somewhat before offering out his dinner invite, but this is mostly on looks alone, with a tiny snippet of profile information – age, location, what they’re looking for.

He swipes right on a blonde, her profile full of photos from beach vacations or something, says she’s not too far away from him and is ‘looking to connect with someone deeply.’ A chat box pops up immediately and after a moment or two, three dots show Beauty – he’s not sure that’s her real name - is typing.

Hey, big boy. What’s bigger – your forearms or… An eggplant emoji?

Oh.

He hesitates over writing back a response. He can flirt with the best of them, but how is anyone meant to make a genuine connection over this app? Maybe he’s too old for this shit.

He puts his cell down by his side and switches on the television instead.

--

“So…” Claire drawls over his shoulder over three weeks later, tracked him down to his desk.

“So…” He mocks back with a tease, swinging around in his office chair.

“Any good dates recently?”

He laughs. “How do you even get that far?”

“You’ve not gone on one?”

“Not for lack of trying.” It’s true. After Beauty, he had struck up conversation with a few more genuine girls that seemed to be going well until he’d broached the idea of a date and they’d drop off the radar. “A couple seemed interested but then stopped replying. I got one date – she didn’t show up.”

“Oh, come on.” Claire leans against his desk. “That can’t be everyone. Let me see.” There’s the expectant hand again. He sighs, picks up his phone and opens the app before handing it over to her.

She sets to scrolling through new arrivals for him, before she pauses. “Well, this one looks sweet.”

“Claire, I appreciate your concern but I just don’t think this app is for me. I gave it a go, I swear.”

“I know, but you’ve got a few days left on the free trial at least - you won’t lose anything. Just take a look?”

He takes the phone back and looks at the screen – a cropped picture of you, it looks like, your friends’ arms around your shoulders, a big, genuine smile on your face. Not a pout or a smolder in a night club mirror.

“Aw, you’re smiling.”

“Fine.” He swipes, but the message bubble doesn’t pop up. That’s the one thing he doesn’t like about this app – you never know if the other one will swipe back.

“No match.”

“Give her a moment,” Claire elbows him, playfully. “Not everyone is scrolling for dates at work.”

“Hey-”

“Speaking of, I’ve got a meeting. See you!”

--

You throw yourself down on the bed, a little bit tipsy after an evening of drinking with your friends, and hold your phone dangerously above your face – you’ve been so close to giving yourself a black eye from the drop so many times but never learn – and open up that stupid app. Your friend had encouraged you to sign up to it after declaring you’d been in a pity party for long enough now after your last break-up and it was time to get back out there.

You scroll through the latest arrivals, swiping left as you go. Everyone internet dates now, you don’t know why you only seem to attract utter creeps on it. You’d been on a few dates, but they’d all been entirely awkward outside the safety of the chat box.

You pause on one new arrival, Leon, 41, the first photo in the set clearly a candid. He’s dressed in a suit – no tie. Businessman, you wonder? Amazingly hot and maybe the most shiniest hair you’ve ever seen.

You roll over onto your stomach and swipe right, smiling when a chat bubble appears.

--

Leon had just settled into bed for the night when his phone vibrated angrily on the bedside table. He threw a hand out, blindly, and looked at the screen, half expecting it to be an email from work or a message from Hunnigan.

It’s neither – a notification from the app.

Hi, Leon. Thanks for swiping. Can I ask something?

He frowns – a unique opener, but it could still go the way of the others, he reckons. He’s not a prude, per say, but he’s seen a lot more than he was intending to these past few weeks. He backs up and has a quick scroll through your profile, vaguely recognizing your face from when he’d swiped right earlier that day – the girl Claire had deemed sweet.

Hi – ask away.

A bubble appears with three dots within.

How do you get your hair that shiny?

Leon barks out a laugh - definitely refreshing.

I’m sorry, I don’t think we’re at that stage of our relationship yet where I’m comfortable sharing my beauty secrets.

Please? Mine is so dull.

He clicks on your profile again and onto the photos but can’t see why you’re worried about your hair. Truthfully, all he registers when he looks at the picture is that sweet, genuine smile.

Looks pretty good from what I can see.

The camera adds all the shine. Are you using a filter?

Trust me when I say I wouldn’t know how.

Don’t know about filters but using a dating app? That doesn’t gel.

My friend suggested I give this online dating thing a go, so here I am.

Well, you’ll have to thank your friend for me.

Leon hesitates a moment, before shrugging it off.

I’ll be sure to, especially as it’s got me talking to you.

Your scalp tingles, but it seems nothing to do with the alcohol consumed earlier.

Too cheesy? I told you I’m new to this, right?

Nah, you’re gouda.

Leon grins.

--

The conversation continues to flow over the next few days. You talk about work – he keeps it vague, works in the government, can be called away on business trips last minute – and you are equally elusive in your response of office work. Internet safety, he reckons, smart girl that you are. Hearing his phone ping with a notification has quickly become his favourite sound.

Nice day? Definitely. Picked up my motorcycle – it’s been in the shop a while. Dare I ask what happened? He hesitates. Chasing a bioterrorist down a highway is perhaps a little too much…

Hit by a truck. I wasn’t on it - obviously.

Jeez. Insurance not just buy you a new one? I can’t think how that’s salvageable.

It’s my favourite, I couldn’t give up on her. You ever been on a motorcycle?

Uh-uh. Too scared.

What of?

Falling off, mainly.

No danger of that if you ride tandem - just need to be sure to hold on real tight.

You bite your lip, mulling over a response, but Leon fills the gap.

And I’d look after you, of course. Make a nice first date, don’t you think?

First date? That’s more, like, third or even fourth date material.

There’s your chance, Kennedy – don’t mess it up.

Well, then we better get the first date out of the way.

You bite your lip as you type back a response. Is that your way of asking?

If it is?

If it is, then I’m free Friday...

Perfect.

--

Friday morning arrives and Leon’s at his desk, typing up a report when his phone chimes. Checking over his shoulder, he pulls it out of his pocket and smiles when he sees it’s a text from you. You’d exchanged numbers the other night, deciding it time to take communication off app ahead of meeting up.

Morning. Question?

Morning. Still after my shampoo secrets?

Yes… But not that. How am I meant to recognize you?

I thought that’d be easy – by how shiny my hair is, apparently.

It’ll be dark out, though.

Is this you trying to be subtle about asking for another photo?

No comment.

Leon locks his computer, the screensaver switching to today’s date and time on a black background. He swings his desk chair around, looks around again to make sure no-one’s on their way past, and opens the camera app. He flips the viewfinder around and tries out a couple of smiles before snapping a selfie – if Claire could see him now…

He sends it through.

Included the time and date and all. Happy?

No comment.

Well, how will I recognize you?

Easy. I’ll be the one coming up to you and saying, “Hi, Leon.” See you tonight x

Until then x

--

The two of you had decided to meet at a bistro – varied menu for all tastes, not too intimate, excellent wine, spirits and craft beer menu.

Leon is nervous as he stands to the side of the entrance – an emotion he hasn’t truly entertained since 1998. There had been no time for it when bioweapons and death were staring him down the face. But, tonight… Well, he’s out of his element on this one. Leon had only ever approached women through work and, yes, it was to varying degrees of success but they’d already seen him properly in person, heard his voice, aware of what he does. There was a horrible niggle at the back of his mind that the date who had stood him up a few weeks ago had caught sight of him and turned heel on the spot.

He looks down at this watch to see it’s bang on 7.30. He’d arrived ten minutes too early, but didn’t want to chance being late and showing up in a fluster. When he looks up, slipping a hand back into his pocket, a figure with a familiar face is walking towards him, greets him with an anxious smile and an awkward half-wave.

God, you’re adorable.

“Hi, Leon.” 

“Hi,” He smiles, one hand still in his pocket, the other hanging down by his side. He wonders if he should’ve gone in for the kiss on the cheek, but he’s missed his chance.

“Erm…” You wring your hands together. “You okay?”

“Great. You?”

Why does he feel as giddy as he did when he picked up his girlfriend for prom back at high school?

“I’m good. It’s nice to put a… voice to a face?” You laugh – light and airy - and Leon’s already desperate to hear it again.

“It really is. Er, shall we?” He gestures forward with his arm.

You nod. “Let’s.”

The conversation is stagnant at first, a sentence here or there as you peruse the drinks menu and move on to ordering starters and entrees. With a little liquid courage, though, the two of you soon slip into easy conversation.

It’s just after the appetizers are cleared when Leon realizes he’s completely and utterly smitten.

You don’t even know where the time has gone, but all of the sudden the two of you are the only diners left and it’s clear the wait staff are looking for you to leave so they can begin their nightly clean down.

He follows you out and onto the sidewalk, a few metres away from the bistro entrance, standing awkwardly opposite each other – mirroring the beginning of the evening.

“So, fancy a ride?”

You tilt your head at him curiously before you burst out into laughter and he grins, rubbing the back of his head, awkwardly, as he realizes the context.

“I mean, I brought my bike here. I can give you a ride home - on my bike.”

You smile. “Not on the first date, remember?”

“Of course.” He nods. “Sticking to your principles – I respect that. Well, can I call you a cab?”

“Oh, actually, I’m gonna walk. I live just in that building over there…” You point up to an apartment building about halfway up the next block.

“I could walk you across the street?” He cringes as he realizes maybe he’s coming on too heavy-handed. “I’m sorry, I promise I can take a hint-”

“No.” You cut across abruptly. “I mean, walking me home would be nice.”

You cross the road in silence, both wrapped up in your own thoughts. You wish you lived slightly further away so you’d have longer to work out what to say, how to end the night.

“So…” Leon begins the other side of the road, the entrance to your apartment block just ahead. He’s trying to keep calm and collected, but there’s just something about you that has made his heart race, his palms sweaty. Don’t fuck this up, Kennedy. “I had a really lovely evening.”

“Me too.” You smile back – and you mean it – but you can’t help but brace yourself. Is this the part where he says, yeah, he had a nice time, but he’d rather not do it again? It seems all too good to be true. He’s the same as he was on the phone, messages and photos.

“Great…” You take a deep breath at his pause, unconsciously clenching your fists, “..cos I was wondering how you felt about a second date?”

“You’re really desperate to get me on that motorcycle, huh?” You tease, instantly relaxing. “But, seriously, I’d like that, to see you again.”

“Is tomorrow too soon?”

“That depends what you have in mind.” You stop, suddenly – the apartment foyer to your left. “This is me.”

“Well, we’ve done dinner, shall we work backwards and have lunch next?”

You take a step closer. “And then breakfast?”

“Fourth could be a midnight feast?” He steps forward too, misjudging the distance and something hard brushes against your stomach. Leon’s eyes widen in alarm. “Oh, wait, I…” He dips his hand into his trouser pocket and pulls out a travel-sized bottle of shampoo with a sheepish smile. “I meant to give you this at the end of dinner – my beauty secret.”

You yank him forward by his jacket collar and kiss him before you can even think properly about what you’re doing. You step up onto your tip toes to deepen the kiss, a hand bracing yourself against his chest for a moment before you mean to step back, maybe even apologise for pouncing on the man, but Leon’s arms wrap around your waist, holding you in place, kissing you back incessantly before you both have to retreat for breath.

“Well, if I knew the shampoo would get that reaction I would’ve started the night off with it.” He murmurs, pulling away and resting his forehead against yours. “I gotta ask though - you’ll kiss on the first date, but not ride a motorcycle?”

You shrug, half-heartedly. “One’s more dangerous than the other.”

He kisses you once more, softly, ending with a teasing nibble on your lip.

“Oh, we’ll see about that, sweetheart.” -- Masterlist . 1,000 followers event

[lysol1201]

You said it yourself for the request trope: "forbidden love of best man and bride" 😉 Of course, with who else other than LEON S. KENNEDY!!! ❤️❤️❤️

Forever Hold Your Peace

Female reader x Chris Redfield, x Leon Kennedy, angst Leon feels like he can’t breathe. There’s a phantom pressure around his throat, like any breath he takes in is barely skimming the top of his lungs.

It’s not the tie – he’s checked, loosening it several times before doing it back up again. He hardly wears a tie, it had never been his style, really. That, and too obvious to be used as a weapon against him in hand-to-hand combat.

Not that he’s expecting to get into a brawl today.

A heavy hand slaps down on his back, jolting him out of his train of thought. “You look more anxious than me.”

“Nah,” he turns and steps back, creating a bit of distance between him and Chris.  “You’re just projecting.”

“Maybe.” Chris approaches the mirror in two long strides and sighs. “You know what? I’d kill for a cigarette.” “Want me to go grab a packet?”

“Nah,” he shakes his head, straightening his tie in the mirror. “I quit. Promised I’d be shot of it by the honeymoon. You could do me another favour, though.”

Leon lifts his arms wide, gesturing to his appearance. “Being your best man not count as enough favours for a lifetime?”

“Technically this falls into the responsibilities of a best man.” Chris squats down and Leon braces himself to hear the fabric rip - they’d spent an afternoon being fitted at a tailor, Redfield’s thighs and forearms were never gonna be accommodated off the rack – but it holds true. He stands upright, a silver giftbag held out in offering. “Could you take this to my bride-to-be?”

“Oh.” There’s the phantom squeeze again. “Don’t you… want to?”

“I can’t. It’s bad luck to see each other before the ceremony,” Chris shrugs, holding the gift bag out again in expectation, but Leon still doesn’t try to take it.  

“And you believe in that?” He scoffs as he puts his hands in his pockets.

“No… but I’m not jinxing anything today. It won’t take long – the bridal suite’s the floor above. Please?”

Leon sighs and accepts the gift bag at last.

--

You take a tentative sip of champagne to calm your nerves. It was the first moment all morning you’d been on your own – the room being a hub of activity since your alarm had gone off. The wedding planner had hit a snag with something or other and Claire had hurriedly offered to go and sort it in your steed.

This is it - in over an hour’s time you’d be Mrs Redfield. You hadn’t thought the day would ever come, but now, as you sat in your wedding dress that made you feel like a princess, sat at the dressing table in the bridal suite, you allow yourself to get a little bit excited. It had been a long engagement and you’d been fine with that, truly. What did a piece of paper saying you were husband and wife matter anyway? But Chris had returned from Romania, stoic and silent for a few days before mumbling in bed late one night that he wanted to start looking at venues. Soon after, a date was booked, a wedding planner hired, invitation cards sent out, food and wine tasting, a visit to a bakery when you’d smeared frosting on each other’s faces as you taste-tested what would be your wedding cake and, finally, bought your wedding dress – none of it had felt real. There was bound to be something that came up, a mission that would take him to foreign soil and mean the wedding had to be delayed.

There’s a hesitant knock at the door and you swivel on the stool, curious who it could be.

“Come in!”

The door opens, slowly, and a suited Leon S Kennedy walks in.

“Leon.” You hitch your skirt up to get to your feet, inexplicably feeling silly in the dress that had made you feel like a princess moments before. “Hi.”

“Wow. You look…” He trails off, breath caught in his throat at the sight before him.

“Terrible?” You tease, wanting to break the awkward silence.

“No.” He replies quickly, leaning back up against the door to close it. “You look beautiful.”

“Oh,” your cheeks prickle with heat at his compliment. “Thank you. You look great too.”

“Yeah, reckon I scrubbed up all right.” Leon chuckles with a shrug, before remembering the gift bag in his hand. “Er, here.” He straightens up and walks forward to meet you halfway across the room, holding it out.

“You shouldn’t have.” You accept it, your fingers brushing over his and goosebumps running up your arm at the contact. “Thank you.”  

“I didn’t.” He answers, abruptly, pulling his hand back and slipping it in his pocket. “I mean, I… There’s a card downstairs in the box. This is from Chris – he asked me to drop it off.”

“He did?” You can’t help the giddy smile that crosses your lips and Leon casts his eyes down to the ground – it’s not for him. You place the gift bag down on the table and pull out a small jewelry box from within, a notecard on top.

We made it, sweetheart. All my love, Chris x

You open the box carefully – scared of scratching off your nail polish – and find a simple silver heart-shaped pendent on a silver chain.

“What is it?”

“A necklace,” you hold it aloft in demonstration. “I didn’t get him anything, I didn’t even think to. Isn’t that awful?”

“You turning up at the altar will be gift enough for him, I’m sure.” Leon jokes, but he knows it lands flat from your polite laugh as you place the necklace carefully back in the box. “Aren’t you going to put it on?”

“Oh, erm, I don’t think I can, what with the veil and the hair, I’m scared I’ll detach something. Claire will be back soon anyway.”

Leon steps forward. “I can help?”

“Honestly, I’m sure she won’t be long.”

“I want to. Call it part of the delivery service.” His hand hovers over the jewelry box, awaiting permission.

“Okay.”

He picks it up, delicately, and steps right in front of you, before fiddling with the clasp of the chain. He’s careful as he holds both ends of the chain and reaches around your neck, impressed by how steady his hands are when his heart is pounding in his chest.

He withdraws one hand and hooks a finger under the chain, nestling it so the pendant sits just right in your decolletage.

This is the closest he’s been to you in years, your signature scent overwhelming his senses - of course you’d want to wear it on your wedding day – and somehow his hand is now on your cheek, tilting your head up to meet his eyes.

He shouldn’t.

He really shouldn’t.

But he does, pressing his lips softly against yours.

For a moment, you reciprocate. Your hand automatically lifts to tangle in his locks before you regain your senses. “No.” You pull back, mad at yourself, mad at Leon. “No – this isn’t fair. You had your chance, you had multiple chances. You said you didn’t want a relationship.”

“I couldn’t give you this.” He gestures to your dress. “Not with my lifestyle.”

“I didn’t care about any of that!” Your voice breaks, tears burn at your eyes.

He scoffs, now defensive. “And look where we are – at your wedding.”

“No. Just because Chris did what you were never willing to do-”

“What, paint a target on your back?”

“Open up. Compromise. Literally anything.” And the dam breaks, tears trickling down your cheeks. It hadn’t even been a relationship, not in any proper sense of the word. Late night fumbles, broken promises, a note left on your pillow that he couldn’t give you what you wanted, despite never having the discussion.

“I couldn’t.”

“You didn’t even want to try!”

The door opens and Claire strides in, dressed in a vibrant red gown, tucking her cell in her black purse as you hurriedly try to wipe your face.

“Crisis averted and nearly time to head downsta… Leon - what are you doing in here?”

“Chris asked me to drop off a gift.” His tone is blunt.

“Y-yeah,” you sniff, hooking a finger around the chain to lift up the pendant. “It’s perfect, right?”

“Oh, he got it!” Claire squeals, taking a step forward to get a closer look. “He was so worried you wouldn’t like it.”

“No, I love it.” A rogue tear rolls down your cheek.

“Oh, sweetie, your make-up.” Claire fusses, heading towards the box of tissues on the dressing table. “Sit down.”

“Sorry.” You mumble, sitting down heavily on the stool. “I haven’t ruined it, have I?”

“Not at all.” She smiles, beginning to dab at the tear trails on your face. “Leon, shouldn’t you be heading back to Chris?”

“On my way.” He mocks a salute, before dipping both his hands back in his trouser pockets.

“Leon,” you call and he swings back round embarrassingly fast on his heels at your voice. “Can you thank Chris for me? Tell him I love it. And him.”

He nods and leaves.

--

“Should anyone present know of any reason that this couple should not be joined in holy matrimony,” the minister begins as you stand opposite Chris at the end of the aisle, your eyes flickering from the loving gaze of your groom to meet the best man’s icy blue eyes for a moment, your heart skipping a beat, “speak now or forever hold your peace.”

Leon clenches his fists.

-- Thank you for all your wonderful support, @porcelainseashore ❤️❤️

Masterlist . 1,000 followers event Comments and reblogs make my whole day!