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robidentevil · 9 days ago

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∘⧼ ⋆ my spot ˚⧽ ˳

collegestudent!leon kennedy x fem!reader - college au

chapter 3.. WOOHOO my favorite so far.. hope u enjoy it heheheheheeheh

-chapter 3-

You should’ve known the universe wasn’t done screwing with you.

The professor read through names like they were filler audio—just background noise—until yours slipped out. You gave your usual half-muttered reply.

“And Leon Kennedy?” he called.

That voice. That snarky, unmistakable voice answered. Of course.

He’s your partner? Great. Fantastic. Why were you just now finding out his name?

You stood up, ready to bolt out of the lecture hall and pretend this never happened, when you heard him call behind you—

“Yo, Y/N.”

You turned.

“Need your number.”

You blinked. Then laughed in disbelief. “Why? Want to ask me out on a date?”

He frowned like you’d offended him. “No?.. For the project.”

Shit. You're a dumbass. “Oh! Yeah, totally—I was just kidding. It’s ********.”

He walked off without another word. No reaction. No smirk. No nothing. What a bitch.

…He did text you later that day, though.

A few hours later, you were standing in front of his dorm room. You knocked once—and the door opened way too fast. Was he waiting for you?

You decided not to dwell. You had bigger problems to face. Like the group project. With your enemy. (From the past 48 hours—but that’s beside the point.)

You hadn’t realized you were just standing there, zoning out, until he stepped aside and tilted his head.

“You coming in or…?”

You stepped inside, brushing past him.

“You want something to eat?” he asked, scratching his head.

“If it’s another protein bar, I swear to God—”

He raised his hands in mock defense. “Hey, hey! They build character.”

You let out a laugh, unfiltered and sudden. “Yeah, okay, Leon.”

He watched you fidget with your hands, then cleared his throat.

“Sooo… living room? Or—”

“Dining table,” you cut in.

“Right. Okay.” He nodded, shoved his hands into his pockets, and went to gather his things.

An hour passed.

You were still fighting over the meaning of a quote. God. Literature.

“Do you always argue like this?” he asked, glancing up at you.

You shrugged. “Only when I’m right.”

“So, never?”

You rolled your eyes. You could be doing better things right now. Like dissecting this quote. Or literally anything else.

Eventually, you actually started writing the essay. And of course, he had thoughts.

“That’s your thesis? Bold…”

You looked up at him, unamused. “Bold or correct?”

He avoided eye contact. “…Bold.”

Cute. Wait—cute? Did you just think he was—Are you out of your damn mind?

“Heeeyyyo?? Do you even hear me right now?” Leon waved a hand in your face like a maniac.

“Stop! You’re making me dizzy,” you muttered, batting him away. “Let’s just finish this for today.”

These meetups became a daily thing over the week. There were… moments. Like when he changed his shirt in the corner of his room and you caught a glimpse of his happy trail.

…What the fuck is wrong with you?

The next morning, you woke up feeling like death. Leon was the last person you wanted to deal with. But responsibilities existed. Ugh.

Buzz. Buzz.

Your phone vibrated. Jill. Texting you.

After what felt like a century, your classes were finally done. You walked into your dorm and found Jill, cross-legged on the bathroom sink, doing her makeup.

“You’re gonna fall doing that.”

She looked back. “No, I won’t! …At least, I don’t think I will.” She grimaced and went back to her eyeliner.

“Ada’s coming, by the way..”

You groaned. “Really? Ada? Jill, you know we don’t get along—”

“OH COME ON! Just give her another chance, pleaseee.”

“Fine. Just—stop nagging. I hate it.”

She grinned, smug and victorious.

An hour—or maybe a few—later, you both headed out. The frat house is ten minutes away. Your plan? A few drinks. Beer pong. Leave early.

It was going fine… until you saw that blond head. Shit. He was here?

Lying bastard. (Not like you didn’t lie too… but still.)

He looked good. Too good. Out of the hoodies and headphones, in actual decent lighting… He could model. Why didn’t he model?

“Ooo, he’s cute,” Jill whispered, nudging your arm. “Want me to set you up?”

“Ehem?? That’s the guy I’ve been telling you about!”

Her jaw dropped. “THAT’S—”

“JILL! Shhh!”

She leaned in, lowering her voice. “That’s demon boy??” She took a long look at him. “Damn. I would've enjoyed every mom—”

You pinched her side to shut her up.

“Should I play with this discovery?” she teased.

“Totally,” you grinned. “Text him.”

You did. And he responded with a sigh. Like you were a chore. Again.

Jill peeked at your phone.

“Damn. What a dick.”

“Right? And you’re the one calling him McDreamy.”

She pursed her lips teasing. “Him being a dick doesn’t make him less gorgeous.”

Before you could answer, she dragged you toward the drinks table.

Everything after that? A blur. You might’ve downed like 50 fireballs.

You woke up on a couch. Not Jill’s. Not Ada’s.

The dining table across from you looked… familiar. Shit.

You were at Leon’s.

You fumbled through your purse, grabbed your phone. 19 missed calls from Jill. 8:00 AM. Saturday. Thank God.

You got up quietly, trying to sneak out—until you saw him in the kitchen.

“Hey. You’re not leaving on an empty stomach,” he said. “If something happens to you, I’m screwed.”

You turned around, eyes sharp. “Oh, so this is about you? Why am I even here?”

His expression turned defensive. “I brought you here because you were dead drunk and I didn’t know where you lived!”

You winced, holding your head. “Shit… sorry. I don’t know why I screamed.” You exhaled. “Let’s just forget it.” You moved toward the door.

“I gotta go.”

You heard him start to protest as you shut it behind you.

Thankfully, you lived a few floors above. As you got into your room, you caught your reflection.

Your makeup… gone. He wiped it off? Where did he even get makeup wipes?

Why was he being so nice?

You didn’t have time to think. You needed sleep. The meetup was at six.

Later that evening, you returned to his dorm and knocked. He opened the door, same as always. You sat down, expecting work. But he just… stared.

“What are you looking at?” you asked.

He quickly looked away. “Nothing.”

A pause. Then—

“Did you go out with Ada?”

You groaned. “Seriously, Leon? Now’s not the time.”

“She almost left you there. If Jill hadn’t found me—if I hadn’t come—”

You cut him off. “Thanks for your input, Dad. But I can take care of myself.”

He rolled his eyes and dropped it. The usual rhythm resumed. Barely.

“Are you suuure? That sounds like bullshit to me,” he teased later.

You raised a brow. “Really?”

He backed off immediately. “No… not really.”

You hummed a soft mhmm in response.

He giggled.

Cute.

Wait—no. Weird. Right?

You weren’t sure anymore. Because it wasn’t a chore anymore. It was… kind of fun.

You actually turned down Hangouts for this. (Pssst… he did too.)

You had something to look forward to. Someone.

One day, he casually dropped a Rice Krispies bar in your lap.

“What’s this?”

He shrugged. “You said you were waiting for a better protein bar flavor. This was the sugariest one I could find to match the cup of caramel in front of you.”

You laughed. “Leon. This isn’t protein. It’s cereal.”

He raised a brow. “Potato, potahto.”

God, he was a dumbass. Your dumbass?

…Maybe.

—-

The dim light of the empty study room flickered overhead, casting shadows on the forgotten papers scattered across the table. The hum of the air conditioner filled the silence between you and Leon, but it did nothing to cool your rising temper. You stood across from him, arms crossed, pulse thrumming hot beneath your skin—mostly from frustration.

“I’m serious, Leon,” you snapped, your voice sharp as you tried to keep it from shaking. “You don’t just get to hijack the whole project and pretend like we agreed to your idea.”

Leon leaned back against the table, effortlessly calm, that infuriating little smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. He crossed his arms, like he was settling into the argument instead of trying to end it.

“I didn’t hijack anything. You just don’t like that someone actually had a better plan.”

Your jaw clenched, eyes narrowing. “You are so—God, you’re so infuriating sometimes. I can’t argue with you when I’m this—”

“What?” he cut in smoothly, his eyes catching yours and holding them. “Turned on?”

The words landed between you like a dropped match. For a second, you actually forgot how to breathe. You froze, every nerve in your body buzzing. Heat crawled up your neck, blooming across your face like wildfire. Leon was smirking now—barely—but it was there. Controlled. Knowing. He’d planned that.

“I was going to say angry, you jackass,” you managed to hiss, but the edge in your voice was gone, replaced with something… shaky.

His smirk didn’t fade. “Mm. Same thing, isn’t it?”

Your breath caught again. You hated how your body reacted to the low rasp of his voice, the way the air between you suddenly felt heavier. You hated how close he seemed even from a few feet away. And most of all, you hated the awful, undeniable truth echoing in your head:

He might’ve been right.

Eventually, the silence broke. You packed up your notes with trembling hands, neither of you saying much after that—but the tension hung in the air like static.

When you finally left the study room, he held the door open for you. You stared at him in disbelief, still caught off guard by whatever the hell that was. In classic Leon fashion, he kicked at your ankle as you walked past. You stumbled forward with a hissed “ow,” turning to glare at him.

Of course. You slapped him on the arm in return. He grinned like he’d won something.

You both stepped into the front lobby of the library—just in time to hear the crash of thunder. It was pouring. Sheets of rain hammered against the pavement outside, wind slicing sideways.

“What is with your weather luck and libraries?” you muttered, mostly to yourself.

Leon said nothing—just pulled an umbrella out of his backpack. You blinked.

“…You checked the weather?”

He shrugged. “Maybe I don’t like being soaked on the walk back. Crazy, I know.”

Before you could sass back, he popped the umbrella open and stepped closer, holding it over both of you. His arm brushed yours as you walked side by side under the awning, the wind still managing to sneak in. You didn’t say anything. Neither did he. You just listened to the rain and let the silence stretch between you, warmer now than it had been in the study room.

When you reached the split in the path, he gave you a lazy half-smile as he stepped back, hand still holding the umbrella out over you.

“Night.”

It wasn’t much. But it made your stomach do that stupid flip again.

You gave a little wave and turned toward your dorm, heart still pounding for some ungodly reason.

Inside, you kicked off your shoes, still thinking about it. You didn’t owe him a thank you, but… maybe a short text wouldn’t kill you. Something casual. Like "thanks for the umbrella lol". Reasonable. Normal.

You typed:

“you’re kinda nice when you’re not being a smug asshole”

Your thumb hovered. Then deleted. Backspace. Backspace. Backspace. Gone.

You let out a groan and put your phone on the counter.

“HEY! COME ON!!” Jill’s voice rang from the other side of the door. “Stop hogging the bathrooooom!”

You sighed and headed over. But she was waiting just outside the door, one brow raised suspiciously.

“Hey… why are you smiling?” she asked, arms folded. “Was the project that funny?”

You rolled your eyes. “Shut. Up.”

Her jaw dropped in theatrical horror. “OH MY GOD. You like him.”

You grabbed the nearest towel and threw it in her face. “I DO NOT.”

She held her hands up in surrender, laughing. “Okay, okay. Just finish up!”

You closed the door and stared at yourself in the mirror for a second.