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obsessedwithtoomanythings · 1 year

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The Terrifying Ordeal of Falling in Love with Leon Kennedy

CHAPTER 14 - ENDING

Pairing: Leon Kennedy x Reader (female reader)

Series Warnings: Minor injuries, Leon teases reader a lot, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Drinking, Drinking followed by driving, DO NOT DO THAT THIS IS FICTION, Anxiety, Leon S. Kennedy has PTSD, Leon has an anxiety attack, Anxiety Attacks, Swearing, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Nightmares, Leon S. Kennedy has Nightmares, Cuddling & Snuggling, Probably incorrect medical talk, Strangulation in one tiny little scene, Reader's brother was a cop who was KIA, Slow Burn, Slow Build, Grief/Mourning, Christmas Fluff, Mistletoe, Fluff and Smut, Eventual Smut, Arguing, Love Confessions, Looking for Alaska is mentioned, Inconvenient Love Confessions, Penis In Vagina Sex, Dirty Talk, Dirty Thoughts, Oral Sex, Cunnilingus, Leon loves eating Pussy change my mind, Shower Makeout, romantic smut, Desperate Leon S. Kennedy, They are both desperate for each other tbh, They say I love you as they come, Scar Kissing, Enthusiastic Consent, Always pee after sex, UTI PREVENTION, POV First Person, No use of Y/N

Words: 10K

Author's Note: Well! This is it! I'll be honest, I may write some epilogues, detailing the wedding and possibly kids and stuff like that cause I am legit obsessed with the dynamic Leon and the reader have and I'm not sure I'm ready for it to be over.

Thanks to anyone who read, commented, like, ANYTHING on this! It means the world to me! Also anyone from AO3 who came over to comment or anything like that! I love you!

THIS CHAPTER HAS SMUT

Masterlist

January 2005

Nuh-uh, uh-uh, don’t wanna do this now

There’s just inches in between us

I want you to give in, I want you to give in

There is tension in between us

I just wanna give in

And I don’t care if I’m forgiven

-Shameless, Camila Cabello

He’s late. This isn’t the ‘traffic was bad’ late. It’s ‘someone is going to show up at your door with a KIA notice’ late. The anxiety has been eating me alive for the past 3 days.

The first day was fine. He’s been that late before. The second day is when it began. The twisting in my gut as I checked my phone to see nothing. The gnawing sensation that crawled up my spine every time someone walked into the infirmary that wasn’t him. The squeeze of my heart at footsteps in the hallway that walked right past.

Then the fourth day rolled around. I felt sick, physically. Barely able to eat anything other than a mandatory protein shake that Dr. Dalton practically poured down my throat himself, soft reassurances of ‘I’m sure he’s fine, sweetheart.’ Sweetheart. The term of endearment that Leon had called me so many times made my ears twitch in confusion at hearing it in a tone that wasn’t Leon’s. Shaking hands. This is how it feels to love someon- No. This is how it feels to love Leon. I’m sure Lilian doesn’t feel this way when Jasper is late coming home. He was supposed to be home 4 days ago. He sounded exhausted when he called, saying everything was okay - that he was okay - and that he would be home the next day. That was 5 days ago.

“You alright?” Thomas, the new medical intern asks, his dark brown eyes shining with affection. He had asked me on a date a week and a half ago, the day before Leon left. I agreed, feeling guilty saying no to the first man who had asked me on a date in years. I can’t wait on Leon forever, right? Deep down, I knew it was wrong to agree to a date when I was so deeply infatuated with someone else, but he looked so excited. So proud of himself for working up the courage to ask. Maybe there was a part of me that liked the idea of someone wanting me. Wishing for me the same way I wish for a man who views me as nothing more than his best friend.

I have done plenty of dumb shit in my life. Who hasn’t? But this? This is a new level of stupid.

“Yeah, I’m good,” I mumble into my wine glass, red lipstick smudging slightly across the rim. The restaurant was lively around us, with waiters and patrons flitting around through tables of deep mahogany. The food was delicious, or at least it smelt that way as it passed by our table.

Thomas is being overly patient. He hasn’t asked why we’re our on third glasses of wine, yet still have yet to move past the toasted bread that arrived when we sat down. My tight black cocktail dress feels too scratchy on my skin despite the reason that I bought it being that it was made of soft velvet. My shoes dig into my ankles uncomfortably, forcing me to shift my feet continuously to relieve the irritating bite.

“Dr. Dalton told me about your friend.” I jerk my head to him like he slapped me, guilt and shame beginning to practically leak from my eyes in the form of tears. You’ll ruin your makeup, stop. “I get why you’re worried. Maybe we should reschedule? For when he’s home?”

‘Sweetheart, you're making the air around you vibrate with the sheer force of your anxiety. You need to calm the fuck down.’ I can practically hear Leon’s voice in my ears. Thomas is nice. Leon would never allow me to be this anxious, he’d make fun of me until I couldn’t remember why I can feel the sweat pooling against the pits of my dress. I nod, noting how rude it is that I’m comparing a date to my best friend.

“Yeah, that’d be good.” He gets the bill, and while I offer to help, he refuses. A gentleman.

‘No way, sweetheart, I do have some manners.’

Get out of my head. Please, Leon.

The drive is short, and while I assure him that I’m alright, Thomas insists on walking me all the way to my door. I unlock it easily, turning the key and flipping on the light, muscles tense and tight with poorly contained anxiety.

“I’ll see you at work tomorrow?” He asks, almost like he doesn’t know how else to end the evening as I turn to say goodnight.

“I’m off tomorrow, but the day after, absolutely.”

“Oh okay, well then I’ll-” He stops, glancing behind me, confusion etched on his features. I whirl around, fight or flight ready to force a reaction from me. Holy fuck.

“Leon?” I practically cry, rushing into his arms and wrapping my arms around his shoulders. I barely notice the sound of the door closing, my date for the evening clearly getting the memo of ‘time to go.’ Leon’s arms come around my waist, a soft touch that isn’t like him. Preparing to be lifted like usual, but nothing like usual happens. He pulls away instead. He backs up, quickly taking notice of my clothing choice before crossing his arms across his chest. “Are you okay? You were supposed to be home 4 days ago.”

“I’m fine,” he practically huffs, turning to walk back toward his room. I reach forward, fingers landing in the crook of his elbow to catch his attention but he pulls away.

“Leon, what the hell?” I demand, frustration rising. Maybe he’s just tired?

“Don’t worry about it,” he states, pulling himself from my grip with a sigh of my name. Not Nurse Nosy. Not Sweetheart. My name. I feel anger bubble up in my chest. I spent days worrying about him, and he can’t even let me at least check him for injuries? He won’t even let me touch him. I’m aggressively reminded of a time when he shut himself off at the slightest push in a direction he didn’t like. It builds with every step he takes down the hallway, into his room.

“I was worried sick about you.” Leon stops. He’s still wearing his boots, his black cargo pants, and a tight compression shirt that is torn in multiple places. Those black fingerless gloves. His watch. His blonde hair is greasy, stringy. He hasn’t even showered yet. I hear him scoff before he turns, hands tucked into his pockets as if his face wasn’t burning with irritation as he looks at me.

“Yeah, I’m sure. You seemed so concerned.” He gestures in the direction of the front door with his eyes. Oh no. Abso-fucking-lutely not.

“I had him bring me home early because I didn’t feel right being on a date when I was practically sick with worry.” I’m gesturing wildly with my hands now, my internal temperature rising at least a few degrees with how wound up I am. Another scoff.

“Yeah, sure.” He turns away again.

“You know what, no.” Another pause was followed by a halting in his tracks. The tension in his shoulders could shatter his bones if he tried hard enough.

“No?” He hasn’t turned to look at me, but I suppose part of me is grateful for that, knowing I may lose my nerve if he looks at me like a kicked puppy.

“No. Since when do you care? I haven’t been on a date in years. Why do you suddenly care now?” I’m yelling by this point. If everyone had a threshold like a cup, mine would be overflowing with bubbling red heat. He does not get to take this shit out on me.

“I have always cared!” His tone matches mine and his eyes burn with a fury I have never seen as he whips around to face me. Nails press into his gloves, digging into the leather, presumably leaving tiny crescents in their wake.

“No, you haven’t! It was easy to not be pissed when I was always home. Always here when you got back to greet you with a hug and a smile. But now that I have things to do, suddenly now you care.” We’re gonna get a noise complaint.

“Yes I fucking have, I have always cared. You just weren’t paying enough attention to see it!” Leon points an accusatory finger at me, and it feels like a literal jab in the chest despite him being almost 6 feet away. I laugh as if this situation is amusing. As if my heart isn’t breaking.

“Please, enlighten me then Agent Kennedy, as to what exactly I’ve missed, since clearly, not everyone is as perceptive as you are.” It’s a low blow, calling him by his title, but I’m fuming so much I’m surprised steam isn’t blowing out of my ears. His slight recoil is almost enough to make me apologize. Almost.

“Don’t do that.” He sounds small. Fuck. I want to hug him, apologize for screaming at him before he has even had a chance to change his clothes and shower. But I can’t. I can’t do this anymore.

“Don’t what?” I’m riding on this wave of red, fists twisting in the soft velvet of my dress.

“Don’t Agent Kennedy me,” he utters before he brushes it off, like flipping a switch. “You know what, I’m not doing this tonight, I’m exhausted. Go makeout with whats-his-face.” That’s it.

“Excuse me? What kind of person do you think I am, dickhead?”

“Oh, you didn’t wanna shove your tongue down his throat?” He feigns surprise, a hand pressed against his chest. I have never wanted to hit someone. Ever. But right now? I want to deck him.

“I wanted to be around you! I missed you!” I’m screaming again, and I feel tears brimming in my eyes. Fuck my makeup. He clicks his tongue, and it feels more like a taunt.

“Well, you should have been home earlier then.”

“Why the hell are you punishing me? I was worried sick the entire time you were gone, especially these past few days of radio silence!” His tone is condescending as if he’s riding some high horse.

“I’m sure it was so difficult for you. Next time, I’ll send a postcard.” He has no clue how it feels. So tell him.

“Do you have any idea what it’s like?” My tone is calmer, fury burning just below the surface of my skin like some virus, ready to raise the fever. Leon’s lips part to respond, but I don’t let him. “Every knock on that door when you’re gone scares the shit outta me because I’m expecting it to be some suit, telling me that you’re dead or worse. I get that what you do isn’t easy, but don’t try to make me feel guilty when all I ever did was worry about you.” My words have an effect on him, his demeanor shifting from one of defense and attack to… almost regret, it seems.

“I never meant to worry you, but you knew what you signed up for when you asked me to move in.” Leon’s tone has shifted. We’re no longer screaming at each other but with the barely-held-together emotions running rampant in the room, I can’t tell if this is better or worse than when we were screaming.

“You’re right. I did,” I concede, and for a second, his blues show a flash of confusion. “But I didn’t sign up to be punished for trying to live my life.”

“I’m not punishing you-” His tone is rising again as he rotates his body to face away from me, not entirely turned. He’s facing my bedroom door.

“Yes, you fucking are, Leon! Why are you so mad about me going on a date? Is it cause you don’t have time to go on one of your own?” It’s the only logical reason I can think of as to why he’s so angry. We’re screaming again.

“Because I don’t want you going on dates!” The words slam into me, turning the tidal wave of rage into a puddle. Not a big one either. The kind that you can step in with sneakers on and your socks won’t even get wet. It leaves a dark pit of bewilderment in its wake. Complete and utter confusion.

“Why?” He’s silent. Leather-covered palms press into his eyes as he huffs in frustration. He wants me to leave it alone. Wants me to back off, letting him close back into himself, where he thinks no one can find him. Where no one can hurt him. “Leon. Why don’t you want me going on dates?” His hands drop to his waist as he spins on his heel once again, and I’m floored by the intensity in his eyes. There’s almost no blue left, or at least it seems that way from where I’m standing.

“Don’t make me say it.” There’s that smallness. The look of begging. Pleading.

“Leon…” I start, but he doesn’t let me finish.

“I’m asking you to drop it.” JUST FUCKING TALK TO ME. LET ME IN.

“No! I’m not dropping it! What the fuck do you mean?” He laughs, a full-blown sound that rings out almost maliciously as his whole body practically moves with it.

“Wow! The return of Nurse Nosy.” Fucking. Dickhead. “Never saw that one coming.”

“Fine,” I deadpan, moving toward him and turning into my room, attempting to close the door. His hand presses against the wood, forcing it to remain open, fuming bodies only a couple of feet apart now.

“What the hell are you doing?” Oh, so when he walks away, I’m the bitch. But when it’s me, I’m still the bitch.

“I’m going to bed, asshole.” I put every ounce of strength into shoving the door, but his arm holds steady. Easily.

“We’re not done.”

“Yes, we fucking are. You made that crystal clear.” Another attempt. Another failed attempt. The tears are blurring my vision, finally seeing an opportunity to pour in the privacy of my room. Away from his terrifyingly focused blue gaze.

“Would you just come back out here and talk to me?” He has no right to ask me that.

“Why?” My voice breaks on the word, and for the first time, it’s like he finally sees how I feel as his hardened features soften. How my heart is breaking and it’s spilling out from my eyes into his waiting palms. “So you can be pissed at me some more?” With his other hand, he runs his hands through his hair, touseling it even more in frustration, and while he’s not looking at me, it’s clear he’s at war with himself. “So you can make me feel like shit even more?”

“Because I love you, damn it!” He shouts again, and the tone causes me to flinch before it sluggishly catches up. He…

“What?”

“You heard me,” he admits, cheeks stained bright crimson at the admission. “So would you please just-” The words he was saying are long forgotten as I rush forward, cold hands on either side of his face and tugging him in. I love you, the words bounce around in my skull as my lips collide with his, and for a moment, he seems surprised. It only takes that long for him to catch up. Palms find my hips, pulling me flush against his warm chest, against his hammering heart. He tastes like spearmint, his lips refusing to relent until we pull back for air, foreheads pressed together, noses brushing as labored breaths pass between our now-red lips and my cheeks are wet with tears. Those ocean eyes look at me like the light spills from them, lighting his way home. A small giggle breaks the silent air, the heavy breaths.

“I pour my heart out to you and you laugh?” He mumbles, but I can practically hear the smile in his voice as I giggle again. “What’s so funny?”

“You stink.” He laughs. The sweet kind, like cold lemonade on a hot day. The kind that makes butterflies swirl inside your stomach to the point of painting your face with an unmovable grin.

“Well, someone interrupted me as I was on my way to my post-mission shower,” he teases, planting another tender kiss across my lips like he can’t get enough of them. My hands slide over his shoulders, cupping the back of his neck as I nose along the line of his jaw.

“I’m so sorry. How can I make it up to you, Agent Kennedy?” The question is much more sultry than intended, my racing heart making me feel practically breathless. Leon’s eyes narrow at the nickname in mock irritation - especially because he specifically told me not to use it months ago - smile still evident as his arm drapes over the small of my back to hold my other hip, if only to add more points of contact. I’m expecting a ‘make me something to eat please?’ or maybe even a ‘kiss me more’. I am not, however, expecting his next words.

“Take it with me?”

“What?” I giggle through the question, wondering how the hell he manages to exude confidence even in situations like this, his finger pressing my chin up until our eyes lock.

“You heard me.” He repeats his earlier phrase like this single sentence holds all the power between us, and maybe it does. “Take my post-mission shower with me.” My face heats up again, and I finally understand the look he’d give me when he’d get a reaction out of me. The amusement. The pride. He wasn’t proud because he got a reaction. He was proud because it gave him hope. Hope that one day, he could kiss me like this. I can’t stop the way my eyes drop to the floor, only for him to clear his throat, drawing my attention back to him. To his lips. To those damn ocean eyes.

“Lead the way, Superman.”

“Oh, I will.” Chapped lips smushing back onto mine, muffling the squeal that rips from my chest. The leather of his fingerless gloves glide over my exposed thighs, gripping them before mumbling ‘jump’ right into my mouth, and who am I to argue with a government agent? My thighs wrap tightly around his trim waist, fingers pressing into the flesh there as Leon begins to walk, presumably carrying us to the bathroom, but for all I know, he could be walking us out into the snow. My mind is far too preoccupied with running my tongue along the seam of his lips, tasting the bitter tang of the nightcap he had, which now lies unfinished on the living room coffee table.

My back hits the wall, sandwiched between his warm chest and the chill of the painted sheetrock. A hand - I couldn’t tell you whose - reaches to flip on the bathroom light before he carries us in, closing the door before I feel the chilly countertop beneath my ass. Leaving one last kiss on my swollen lips, he pulls away - taking his warmth with him - chuckling at the small sound of disapproval leaves my lips.

“What are you-”

“Relax, I’m just turning on the shower, sunshine.” It’s hard not to stare, taking notice of the smattering of scratches that litter his arms as he reaches in to flip the water on.

“Sunshine?” I question teasingly, pressing my palms to the granite surface and leaning forward, head tilting to the side in curiosity.

“Yeah,” he smirks, removing his gloves and tossing them onto the tile flooring so he can check the temperature of the falling water. “You’ve always been this… Light in the dark for me. So ‘Sunshine’ seems fitting.” Leon’s not looking at me, but his cheeks are pink again. He must be satisfied with the temperature because he pulls back to finally meet my eyes again, stepping back up to where I’m perched. “Have I mentioned how sexy you look in this dress?” He mumbles, his lips skimming the skin of my throat in soft bites and kisses.

“You haven’t.” My words come out in a breathless gasp, his hands sliding up my thighs - barely grazing the bottom hem of the black velvet fabric - massaging the flesh in his grip.

“Well, I should have,” he growls. Holy fucking shit. That’s a sound I never thought I’d hear. “Maybe you wouldn’t have gone on that date if I had.”

“I definitely wouldn’t have,” I tease, fingertips moving to climb under the fabric of his compression shirt, desperate to explore his form in ways I have never been allowed to until this moment.

“Eager, are we, sunshine?” Fucker is smirking into the kiss as if he’s faring better than I am at this moment.

“Says the one who asked me to shower with him.”

“Touché.” I grip the hem of the fabric between my digits, pushing it up his chest in an effort to rid him of it. His arms come up to aid me in my own personal mission, revealing his chest to my wandering eyes before toned arms come down on the counter on either side of my hips.

“You don’t need to be this attractive, asshole,” I murmur, almost more to myself than anything before he responds with a passionate kiss, his warm hands slipping beneath my dress to shove it above my hips, revealing a pair of lacy blue panties. A light groan spills into my mouth from him as he presses himself between my legs, hands finding the backs of my knees and yanking me forward with a yelp.

“Speak for yourself,” he argues, refusing to part from my lips for more than a second. “Fuck, can I take this fucking dress off of you?” My only reply is a nod, our foreheads tapping together because of the movement. Leon doesn’t waste another second, gripping the soft fabric and pulling it over my head without hesitation, and his eyes widen at the sight of the bra, lacy and matching perfectly with the panties. “You’re trying to kill me,” he whispers, eyes raking down my figure before I begin squirming anxiously. The room is full of steam by now, the mirror behind me completely covered and his creamy skin covered in a thin sheen of sweat.

“Maybe we should actually shower instead of you just staring at me?” I suggest with a nervous giggle. He finally looks back up at me, and I notice the blues in his eyes are slowly slimming, his pupils dilating.

“I think that’s a great idea.” Hands skim across my back to easily unclip my bra, tugging it down my arms until it joins his shirt in a pile on the floor, my panties soon following, leaving me completely exposed before him. This adonis of a man is looking at me like I’m the most precious piece of art he’s ever laid his eyes on.

“Feels a little unfair, don’t you think?” My arms come up to cover my chest. No one has looked at me in this state in a long time.

“Don’t,” he coaxes, grabbing my hands to rest them against his shoulders, leaning in to nuzzle into my neck and jaw again. “Please don’t hide from me. You’re gorgeous.” I hear a clinking before feeling his shoulders shift beneath my palms, undoing his belt - I assume - and then I hear his pants hit the floor, although it’s barely audible over the pattering of the water against the shower curtain. Leon takes a slow step back, holding my hands to help me down from the countertop before practically dragging me into the warm stream of water. I can’t help as my gaze drifts down, taking in the wet ridges of his abs, to the v of his hips, and down until his voice forces my eyes back up in embarrassment.

“My eyes are up here, baby.” He closes the shower curtain with a teasing smile.

“Sorry.” My voice is shaking.

“Sunshine,” he soothes, hands finding my hips to pull me against his body in what was supposed to be a comforting hug. It quickly dissipates into anything but as I feel his hard length against my stomach, slick practically dripping from my center by this point. “You’re fine. I’m teasing you.”

“Well, you did always say I was easy to tease,” I mumble into his chest, using his embrace as an excuse to hide my blush.

“That you are, sweetheart,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to my now-wet hair. “Although I do actually need to shower.” Reaching for his shampoo while still keeping an arm locked around me, I take a deep breath before taking it from him.

“Can I wash your hair?” I question, looking up at him through my lashes.

“How could I say no to that?” Leaning down so it’s easier for me to reach him, I pour the pine-scented shampoo into my palm, rubbing them together before lathering the soap into his scalp. The agent releases a string of curses and groans as I massage his head, knowing from experience that he really enjoys it. Shifting around so that his head is under the water, I rinse the suds from his blonde locks, a soft smile pulling at my lips.

“Maybe this should be the new tradition.” The words are said without thought, falling from my lips.

“What?”

“Me taking your post-mission shower with you.” Fingers tighten around my waist as a small grunt departs from his throat, sounding more like it came from his chest.

“That sounds perfect.” He’s breathless. “Fuck, I can’t wait anymore.” Wet lips pressing to mine, hands gripping my thighs and lifting, not even prompting me to jump as I’m brought against his body, trapping his cock between us. A jolt runs through my spine like lightning at the sensation and my back hits the cold shower wall, thighs tightening around Leon’s waist.

“Impatient, are we Superman?” It’s mumbled into his mouth and I can feel his smile in response.

“Take one look at you, and tell me I shouldn’t be impatient.”

“Maybe not in the shower though?” I giggle, and the chill sets in as the water begins to run cold.

“Maybe not,” he says with his own chuckle, dropping my feet to the floor before steadying me, the floor slick as he moves to switch off the brisk water from falling on my bare shoulders. His arm comes around them to tug me close to his chest, the heat radiating off of him creating a heat wave in the middle of January. With a goofy smile, I lean out and grab a towel from where it hangs before throwing it over his head.

“I think pink is a good color for you, Superman.” Damp blonde locks emerge from the pink fabric with a cacophony of light chuckles and shy smiles filling the room.

“Yeah? I think it looks much better on you, sweetheart.” The cockiness has returned to his tone, and I roll my eyes at his shifted behavior.

“Oh really? And what makes you say that?” I sass, ready to take him on. In more ways than one.

“Cause it’s the prettiest color I could turn your cheeks.” His tone sends heat straight to my core as he steps forward, the pink towel wrapped around his neck, inches between our noses.

“We both know you can easily make me blush. This isn’t new info, Leon.” Don’t back down from this.

“You’re right. It’s really easy.” Leon brings the towel over his head to wrap it around my back. The gesture seems sweet. For a minute. Tugging on the towel, it forces my chest against his, wet skin sliding against wet skin. “I fully intend to make you turn every shade of pink tonight.” And then he’s picking me up again. Holding me is easy for him, with years of strength training proving to be useful for pleasurable purposes as well as he carries me into my - Our bedroom? - I’ll need to ask him about that, I suppose. As my mind wanders, the agent doesn’t hesitate to throw me unceremoniously onto my - our bed, a small yelp leaving my throat at the sudden drop.

“Leon you can’t just throw me around!”

“See, I think you like it.” He mutters, voice dropping into a lower octave, gravely and rough as he rests his weight onto his hands - which are on either side of my head. “I think you like how much stronger I am. I think it gets you going, baby.”

“Is that so?” I say, voice shaking with barely contained arousal, and Leon being, well Leon, knows this. With a nod, he presses his lips to the column of my throat, sucking a smattering of red marks onto the skin. My teeth clamp over my bottom lip, muffling the sounds that threaten to leave my voicebox, but clearly, Leon has other ideas. His hand presses to my jaw before his thumb caresses my chin, applying light pressure until my lip slips from between my teeth.

“Don’t hide any of those sounds from me, gorgeous,” he commands, and I’m reminded of his position in his career. The power he holds at the young age of 27. I nod in his hold, goosebumps prickling across my skin as he nips at my tender skin. His name leaves my lips in a muffled whimper; hands tracing soft patterns into my arms before his lips dance across my collarbone, his teeth pressing into the bone as a quick gasp breaks from my mouth. “Good girl.”

“Leon,” I whimper as his mouth drags lower, pressing soft kisses to my sternum, between my boobs as I lace my fingers through his blonde locks. “You can’t just say that.”

“Aww, why not, sunshine?” He teases, his hot breath teasing across my pebbled nipple, his warm hand coming down to cover the neglected breast. He looks up, as if he’s waiting for something. “Can I?” I nod, his blue eyes practically swallowed up by the dark pupil that swells in his arousal.

“Yeah.” The word is a breath released into the quickly cooling air. It’s all he needs before his warm lips close around the nub, suckling gently before his tongue swirls over it. I gasp, back arching slightly as my eyes squeeze shut, fingers tightening in his hair as he releases a small groan against my flesh.

“Fuck, you’re so sensitive,” he mumbles against my skin, almost to himself before his lips seal again, tonguing it before switching to the other nipple. “Can I taste you?” His tone is almost desperate. It takes my mind a moment to catch up to what he means before I nod with a mumbled ‘please’.

He doesn’t waste another second, planting wet kisses down my stomach, licking and suckling as he goes solely to illicit reactions from me, which leave him chuckling against my flesh.

“Leon-”

“Shhh, sweetheart,” he hushes, pulling my thighs apart easily as he settles between them, lips and teeth grazing across my inner thigh before giving the other the same treatment until I can practically feel myself dripping onto the mattress below me. “God, you have no idea how long I’ve dreamed of this…”

“Really?” I find myself asking as my heart thumps against my chest. He’s thought about this?

“God, you have no idea what you do to me, do you, baby girl?” He sighs, nosing along the length of my thigh. I can’t stop my fingers from involuntarily twitching, giving his locks an accidental tug.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s okay, baby. I like knowing how good I’m making you feel.” His blue eyes focus on mine, and I almost pass out at the sight of his damp blonde hair sticking to his forehead, naked shoulders that have my thighs thrown over them haphazardly as he licks his chapped lips. “Tell me this is okay.”

“Please, Leon…” The words come out as a whimper (I didn’t even realize I could whimper), and for a split second, I doubt I have ever been this desperate for anything.

“Good girl,” he whispers, breath tickling against my core and I can barely contain my groan before a squeak rips from my throat, his tongue running a hot stripe across my sex. Well, that’s a new feeling.

“God-” I yelp, squeezing my eyes shut as shivers run up my spine. Leon chuckles against me, tongue plunging into my opening to drink straight from the source before he pulls back to speak.

“Just me, sunshine.” I roll my eyes, laughing just a bit before the agent’s lips seal around my clit, sucking enough to tug the chord in my spine taunt, my back bending as my fingers tighten. Leon groans at the gentle tightening of his damp hair, the vibration traveling straight into my core. “Fuck, you taste amazing.”

“Leon, please just… Please kiss me…” I whimper as I attempt to bring him back up, but he holds firm before dropping wet kisses to my clit, ending each kiss with a light suckle. “That’s not what I meant.”

“You didn’t clarify. I’m giving you kisses, just like you asked.” His smirk is practically audible as he plants more smooches, despite my protests and groans. Fingers gently prod at my entrance, and I can’t help but tense. “Do you wanna stop, sweetheart?”

“No!” I answer, almost too quickly, and the feeling of his smile presses against my thigh before he covers it with licks and bites.

“Then relax,” he assures, hand running soothing circles over any skin he can reach. It takes another moment of his tongue twirling around my nub before I loosen my muscles enough for a thick digit to slowly press inside my heat. “Good girl.” Fuck that should not be a turn on. “Oh you do like that,” he whispers, almost to himself as I tighten around his finger. He picks a leisurely pace to thrust his finger in, basking in each sound he pulls from my lungs before he adds a second, following the same treatment, stretching me to accommodate his length.

“Leon, fuck I can’t…”

“Don’t challenge me, sweetheart. I’m not moving from this spot until you come around my fingers,” he mumbles into my core, fingers moving faster as his mouth works double time on my clit until the white-hot heat rips through me and I come with a high-pitched squeak. My muscles relax one by one, both of his hands rubbing soothing patterns over my skin as I come down from my high with breathless pants, and I realize I barely felt him remove his fingers.

“It should be illegal for you to be that good at that,” I mumble with a breathless giggle, and he chuckles as he leans up, wiping his lips and chin with his arm before pressing his lips back to mine. I can taste myself as his tongue prods against mine for a brief second.

“I’m gonna be spending a lot of time down there, sunshine,” he whispers into my ear as he grips my thighs, pulling them tight around his waist and I gasp at the feeling of him pressing against my pubic bone. “If you want to stop, we can,” he mumbles against my mouth. I shake my head aggressively.

“No, I’m fine.” The offer warms my heart though. “I’ve waited too long for you already.”

“Me too.” He doesn’t hesitate to move toward me, rutting himself against my heat with a groan of his own. He reaches down, leaning all his weight down on one arm, pressing himself against my slick opening before stopping, looking at me with a look that screams ‘Are you sure?’ My answer comes in the form of kissing him again, and he chuckles against my mouth. I’ll never get tired of this.

With the reassurances out of the way, his hips shift, pressing himself forward and my fingers tighten in his hair at the slight intrusion. “Are you okay, sunshine?”

“Yeah, I’m okay,” I whisper, breath tickling his lips.

“Are you sure you want to keep going?” He practically breathes the words, trying to halt the involuntary actions of his hips that send my brain into a spiral before I have to contain the breathy laugh that threatens to ring out.

“I swear to god, Lee, if you ask me that one more time, I’m gonna…” I say with a smile, trailing off, hoping he’ll get my point, but why would I be so lucky?

“You’re gonna what, sunshine?” He whispers into my ear with a chuckle of his own and I move my arms to press against his shoulder blades as he continues his ruthless teasing. “Tell me what you’ll do, baby.”

“Fuck you, Kennedy,” I groan, throwing my head back against the pillow in frustration.

“If you insist.” It takes a moment for my brain to catch up, but it catches up fast when Leon shifts his hips, pressing himself into my tight channel with a rumbling shudder until his hips are flush against mine. He’s trembling almost as much as I am. For a moment, neither of us moves, content in our tight embrace, as close as two people can possibly be. Breathing the same breaths, hearts practically beating in sync as his arms rest on either side of my head, surrounding me in the sweet scent of him. His name falls from my lips as a shaky breath, both of our hands roaming over the others skin without barrier. I can practically feel my walls molding around the shape of his cock, content to keep him there until the sun explodes. “You’re so soft…” He whispers, almost an afterthought. “I’m gonna move, is that okay?”

“Please.” And then he shifts his hips, pulling out before plunging back in with enough momentum to force the air from my lungs, followed by a high pitched keen from the back of my throat. The pleasure radiates from my center the same way his skin radiates heat, and the sweat slicked flesh feels almost like an anchor, grounding me to him. The only thing keeping me afloat. His name falls from my mouth in a cacophony of squeals and moans, and with each sound, Leon grows more and more bold, and after a few minutes of mingling moans and increasingly wet sounds of skin on skin, his pace slows.

“I have a confession to make.” He whispers, an almost guilty look on his face as he leans up just enough for me to see the blues of his eyes.

“Oh god,” I say, palms resting on his damp pecs, anxiety flashing through my mind. “What?”

“You know that um…” He says, pausing as his cheeks flush. He’s embarrassed. “That day I came into the infirmary? With back issues?”

“Tell me you didn’t like, actually break something and I’m hurting you,” I plead, nervous jitters spreading from the tips of my toes to my fingers.

“No, god no, you’re fine,” he exclaims, leaning up until he’s resting on his hunches, cock still pressed tightly inside my body, and I inhale at the sensation of him shifting around, pressing against spots inside me that I didn’t even know I had. “I um…”

“Oh my god, spit it out please, Superman.” He chuckles at the desperation in my tone, eyebrows raising before he continues, but not before canting forward slightly to force a moan from my lips.

“Okay okay. I lied that day. I didn’t actually have any back issues,” he admits, face flushed again.

“What?” I place my hands over his as they rest on my hips, confusion painting my features. “But then why did you…”

“I wanted to see you. I… I couldn’t stop thinking about you after that first visit.” He pauses, taking a deep breath. “You were the first one to ask about my mental state, and while I wasn’t ready to deal with it at the time, I appreciated the concern.” I reach up, my hand cupping his jaw as I break out into a fit of giggles.

“You are so cute,” I coo, and he rolls his eyes before pressing his finger down on my clit and I jerk upward as if I’m trying to escape his touch. We both know that’s not the case.

“I’ll show you just how cute I am.” The words send a wave of heat down my spine that pool around him, practically leaking out around his cock as he begins his movements back up, blue eyes looking down on me with affection and lust. I relish in his attention with a small smile.

“Please do, Agent Kennedy.” Oh how the tables have turned. He chuckles, leaning back down to cage me in between his arms again.

“You’re in for it now, sunshine.” The tender moment has faded, lips and tongues pressed together in hot kisses as sweaty bodies move in tandem. The knot in my core tightens as my fingers squeeze around the firm muscles of his shoulders, and the sounds leaving my mouth are downright pornographic. I can barely focus on anything besides the feeling of his skin against mine, the wet sounds between us, and every word he whispers directly into my ear. “Good girl.” “Taking me so well, sunshine.” “You’re fucking perfect.” “Come with me like a good girl.” Each phrase sends a tingle across my skin, my orgasm pulled taunt until it snaps like a rubber band, and I come around him with a muffled ‘I love you’ as he follows, spilling himself inside of me with the same groaned ‘I love you’s. His weight drops for a moment before his arms tighten around me to flip us so that he doesn’t press down on me as we both try to take in much oxygen as we can with labored breaths, my cheek pressed to his rapidly rising and falling chest. “Are you okay?”

“Mhm.” I nod, eyes already drifting with the need for a rest.

“No no no, you gotta pee, sunshine.” His hand pats gently against my ass and I sleepily laugh before getting up and rushing into the bathroom to pee, pulling on my panties on my way back. I stop in the doorway, looking at him resting in bed, having flipped over onto his stomach, arms tucked under his pillow.

The chill of the air forces me back into bed quickly though, hopping over Leon to get to my side. My side. His face pressed into the soft fabric of his pillow, and I lay down on his back - practically laying on him - before running my fingers across the raised skin on his right shoulder. This was from when I patched him up for the first time.

“Will I ever get to hear the stories behind your scars?” I find myself asking in a hushed tone as if I’ll wake up from a dream if I speak too loud. I trace what was once that gash the size of my forearm with a delicate touch. Light, soft. He shifts around, moving his face out of the pillow to speak.

“Which ones do you wanna know about?” He mumbles. He’s clearly tired, but he’s humoring me, which is just like him.

“All of them,” I admit. He shivers beneath me, my digits still tracing over marred skin. I feel him huff out a laugh from his back against my cheek.

“Nurse Nosy. That’s never gonna change is it?” He teases. I gasp in mock offense, ready to retort with someone that most definitely would have been witty and clever. “That one was from an axe.” I tilt my head, confused for a moment before I realize he’s talking about the scar.

“It was an axe?” I ask skeptically, sitting up so that I’m sitting on his lower back, legs on either side of his torso bent at the knee. He nods against the pillow.

“Guy grabbed the axe from the fire emergency kit.” I look at the skin, and suddenly it feels different. It feels raw, and intimate, and scary. Before I can think twice, I lean forward, pressing my lips to the marred flesh. Leon tenses, every muscle in his body going rigid and I begin to sit up before his arm comes out from under the pillow, catching my attention.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t hav-”

“It’s okay. It’s okay for you to do that.” He whispers, and I can faintly see the tint of a blush on his cheeks and nose. Leaning back down again, palms resting on the warm skin of his back, I press kisses along the length of the gash before I sit back up, hands not leaving his skin as I move them to the long thin scar that runs from his left shoulder diagonally over his spine, ending at the bottom of his ribs on the right side. The one I patched here, in our apartment. On our couch.

“What about this one?”

“That is from when I was dealing with one guy, another snuck up behind me with a knife. I was really lucky I moved when I did.” The idea of him almost dying isn’t a pleasant thought in the slightest, so I opt to lean down, giving this scar the same treatment as the last one, kisses tenderly placed across it. My eyes move to the small circular wound on his left shoulder. I trace the edges of it, noting how his breath catches. This was caused by a bullet.

“And this one?” I ask, hesitant. He’s never mentioned this one before, and it certainly wasn’t one myself or any of the DSOs doctors did. He takes a deep breath, my body rising slightly as his chest expands before he releases it.

“I was shot. I was trying to protect this girl, her name is Ada. I took the bullet for her. I don’t know if it was some stupid crush or a general sense of duty, but I jumped in front of her.” He tries to keep his tone impassive, but I can tell. I can always tell with him.

“Ada? You’ve never mentioned anyone named Ada before,” I question. He takes a long pause, so long that for a moment I wonder if he’s going to ignore the question altogether.

“She was a mercenary that I met in Raccoon City. Granted, I didn’t know she was a mercenary at the time. She claimed she was FBI, and young and naive as I was, I believed her. She used me to do her dirty work.” He explains, and it’s impossible to miss the sadness in his voice. The betrayal. It’s as fresh as it was the day in Raccoon City.

“What happened to her?” I ask. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Well up until last August, I thought she was dead. She fell in Umbrella’s lab when it started coming down. I couldn’t pull her up. But then she was in Spain, tried to convince me to leave Ashley behind and go with her.”

“But you said no?”

“I did.”

“Why?” He shifts his head, looking back at me before chuckling.

“I promised Ashley I’d get her home.” He says before quietly adding, “And I promised myself that I’d come home to you.” Another light kiss pressed right on the old wound. The old memory. Sitting up, I scan his back, trailing my fingers across scarred flesh before I speak up.

“Can I do the ones on your front?” It’s practically a whisper. Surprisingly, he nods, flipping beneath me so that I’m now resting on his abdomen. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?” It’s a fair question, given the shining of tears I can see forming in his eyes from the moonlight shining. He nods.

“Yeah. I’m just not used to anyone being so… gentle. Not with me anyways. But I trust you.”

It’s hard not to shiver at the feeling of hard muscle under my covered core, but I ignore it in favor of poking a small cut on his bicep. He chuckles, cheeks dusted pink.

“Uh oh. What was this one?” His laugh is contagious, my own chuckle coming out at the notice of his laughter.

“It was so stupid. One of the guys I was training with decided he wanted to spar, and in the middle, one of the higher-ups walked in.” He starts, his hands resting on my thighs, the warmth just enough to keep me from needing pants. “Well being the 21-year-old that I was, I wanted to try and show off. I ended up fucking up something and caught myself with the blade.” It’s cute to see him embarrassed.

“Well, at least it’s a good story.” I giggle, before pressing a kiss on the old wound. I grip his hand, the one that had the burn, the skin completely healed, almost appearing like nothing had happened at all. A soft kiss pressed there too.

“Guy had a torch. It caught my glove.” I look up at his explanation, smiling before placing a series of kisses there, one on each knuckle before I set his hand back on my thigh. The scar in the center of his chest. I place my palm on it, the length of it longer than my hand from wrist to the tip of my middle finger.

“What about this one?” A deep breath, steadying. Calming. He’ll tell me if he’s not comfortable talking about it. I need to trust that he will.

“It happened in Spain. There were these… Parasites. It’s what they were using to control the people. They infected me. I know I should have told you soon-”

“Ashley told me. Back at the white house, at that party where you tricked me into coming with you.”

“She told you?” He questions, confusion in his voice as his eyebrows raise. “She told you what they were or…”

“She told me they were parasites. And that both of you were infected, but were cured. I didn’t wanna push you into talking about it, so I never brought up that I knew,” I admit, suddenly feeling as if I’ve hidden some vital detail from him. That feeling is washed away as his chest begins to move with his laugh.

“She would be the one to blab about that.” He chuckles again to himself lightly. “But this is the scar left from the removal.” I kiss it, right in the center before kissing my way up his chest, stopping at a scar on the left side of his jaw. It’s small, almost unnoticeable. “Before you ask, I was shaving with a razor that was dull as hell. It left this as a reminder to change my razors more often.” I giggle into his neck, nose tracing across the line of his jawbone before I place a soft kiss on it. My lips continue to press wet kisses at any exposed skin I can reach without sitting up.

“I’ll ask about more another time. We’ve got lots of time.” His arms come up to wrap around my shoulders, my naked chest pressed against his, able to feel his heartbeat under me. The silence stretches on, and I almost wonder if he has dozed off before he speaks.

“Marry me.” I press on his chest until I’m hovering over him, shock widening my eyes.

“What?” He’s not serious.

“You heard me,” he comments, eyes still shining with tears. Because no one has ever been so soft with him. No one has ever treated him like a person, they’ve only seen Leon S. Kennedy, STRATCOM’s golden boy. “Marry me.”

“You did good.” I turn quickly toward the door at hearing his voice again.

“Sorry?” My voice is quieter than intended, almost making it sound like I’m afraid. Agent Kennedy’s head tilts, looking over his shoulder, no smile, just looking.

“You did a good job. You took good care of your first victim.” For a moment, and only a moment, I see a glimmer of a smirk flit across his mouth before he’s gone, the echo of his boots practically filling my ears as he makes his way down the hallway.

“Really? You? A cop?” The revelation takes me by surprise, although it probably shouldn’t have. My eyebrows rise in shock.

“Yeah, believe it or not. Ended up here through sheer dumb luck.” The way he says ‘dumb luck’, it sounds like there’s more he wishes he could say but can’t.

“Well, then it sounds like you’re pretty brave yourself, Agent Kennedy.” The clipboard handed to him. Him signing it with a scratching across the paper. His hands, bruised knuckles and all, returning it to me.

“Nurse Nosy!” I turn, irritation growing on my face as he quickly makes his way over to me.

“Can you pick a different nickname, please?” I ask, and he ignores the question in favor of his own request.

“A couple of friends and I are grabbing drinks tonight. Come with.” It takes me by surprise, him inviting me out with his friends.

“Look, if this is a pity thing, it’s fine. I’m content in my loneliness.”

“It’s not. I’m just trying t-”

“To help?” His sentence is finished by me, and for a brief second, I see a flash of embarrassment on his cheeks due to the nature of my line of questioning the first time we met.

“I’m just trying to invite you out for a drink. That’s all.”

Looking up, I see Leon slide his arms into his own jacket, the leather practically molding to his stature, and I have to contain a groan at the sight as he zips it. I completely lose focus for a moment, only brought out of it as his fingers knock against my forehead teasingly. “Penny for your thoughts?”

“Sorry, but my thoughts cost a dollar,” I sass, taking the helmet as he hands it to me and pulling it onto my head.

“Well, remind me to start saving up.” Another godforsaken wink. Fuck. Don’t. Leon, I’m begging you. Don’t make me fall in love with you. I can’t.

“Well apparently, it does, in fact, matter. Which sucks. I would need to find someone who could put up with not knowing when I’ll be here and when I won’t.” He glares at the ceiling as if it’s personally offended him, furrowed brows and lips curled downward. Don’t. Don’t fucking say it. Don’t.

“I could.” Had to open my fucking mouth. Leon’s eyes immediately snap to me, his frown replaced with a surprised expression.

“What?” He asks, almost in disbelief.

“I have an extra room. And I don’t mind the chaotic schedule,” I mumble, suddenly very embarrassed by my outburst. “Plus, I could keep your plant alive.” He finally cracks a smile as he laughs.

“You’re serious?”

“I mean, you’ll have to help with rent. And groceries when you’re here, but, yeah. If you want, the spare’s yours.”

“Will you do that for a little longer?”

“What?” He gestures to his head.

“Your fingers in my hair.” Don’t.

“Of course. Come here.” I scoot back, grabbing the pillow from the floor and placing it behind me so I can rest against it, flipping the lamp off before laying down completely. Leon finds the blanket draped over the back of the couch, tugging it over his back and my legs before resting his head on the middle of my chest, and while I knew this was coming, it still took me by surprise. I settle with his head there, his face turned toward the TV I know he’s not actually watching.

“Your heart’s beating really fast,” he slurs, already on the brink of sleep as I thread my fingers through his blonde locks once more, finger combing the strands until I feel him start to snore again, a light sound that could almost be mistaken for breathing if you weren’t listening. But of course, I was listening. I’m always listening when it comes to him.

I fall asleep like this as well, his head on my chest, the smell of his citrusy shampoo in my nose, his breath warming the fabric of my thin sleep shirt, and my fingers in his hair.

5. “What are 5 things you can see right now?”

“You.” His voice is trembling. I can practically feel my heart splintering inside my chest.

“Good. What else?”

“Yellow of your shirt.” I nod encouragingly. “Your radio has green numbers.” Good. “The red straw of the cup in your cupholder.” One more. “Your keychain has a picture of you and your sister on it.”

4. “What are 4 things you can feel right now? Physically.”

“Your hands on my jaw.” One. “The seat under me.” Two. “My hands on your legs.” Three. “The sweat on my forehead.” Four. Good.

3. “What are 3 things you can hear?”

“Your voice.”

“Mhm. Good.”

“Birds outside of the car.” One more, Leon. “The blood pounding in my ears.”

2. “What are 2 things you can smell?”

“The car’s air freshener. It’s lavender.”

“Good nose.” I whisper, trying to bring a smile to my own face in reassurance.

“Your perfume. It’s vanilla.”

“You’re doing really well, Leon.”

1. “What is 1 thing you can taste?”

“I don’t know, I can’t-” My hands find the gum in my center console, unwrapping it and offering it to him. He opens his mouth without question, refusing to break eye contact as I pop the spearmint strip into his mouth. He chews it, the familiar flavor and texture seemingly bringing him a sense of calm.

“What is one thing you can taste, Leon?”

“My gum.”

“You were there.” I’m not tired anymore.

“Sorry?”

“In Raccoon City. You were there in my nightmare.” He pauses, taking in a breath, his heart stuttering inside his chest. “You were hurt, and I tried so hard to fix it, but…” I run my hand in comforting circles across his shoulder blade as he pauses, taking a breath. “You turned. And I had to…” Oh.

He came in here to make sure I was still alive.

“I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere, Superman.”

“Superman?” He questions the nickname, and I can hear the smile that adorns his lips.

“Yeah. You’re basically Superman.” Words mumbled into his chest, his arm underneath my head bending to run fingers through the strands that have fallen free from the messy bun at the top of my head.

“She really cares about you, you know that?” Silence. I wish I knew if it was because of some unspoken conversation or if Leon truly just doesn’t know what to say. “She loves hard. Friendships, romance, family. Doesn’t seem to matter to her. If she loves you, she really loves you.”

“I know.” What? “God, don’t I know it. She’s one of the few things in this fucked up world that actually makes me think it’s worth it.”

“I saw you, man. I saw the way you looked at her.”

There he is. He’s dirty, face covered in smudges of mud and what I assume is blood, and there is a bandage on his jaw. His arms are littered with cuts and his right hand is encircled in white sterile wrapping, and beneath the thigh of his black cargo pants - which have a very large hole - there is more wrapping. His eyes practically droop under the weight of the dark circles resting below the multitude of blue swirls, blonde hair stringy and clearly in need of a wash hanging down to graze his cheek.

“I sure hope you didn’t give them too hard of a time, Nurse Nosy.” Tears swell in my eyes at his tone, the final nail in the coffin that it’s him.

“Leon?” He opens his arms just like he always does, and despite the nightmare looming in my brain, I bolt toward him, uncaring of the mud seeping into my socks until my arms are around his shoulders and his are squeezing my middle, lifting my feet off the muddy ground.

“Keeping my hoodie warm for me, sweetheart?” He teases in my ear and I let myself cry, tears streaming from my closed eyelids as I sniffle, refusing to let go of him for the first time since I met him. “Wrap your legs around me, sweetheart, you’re not wearing shoes.” Given my lack of coherency, my muscles move unconsciously, winding around his waist. His nose in my hair, lips against my scalp, arms tight around my ribs. “Let’s go home, sweetheart.”

“I never thought I’d be able to care about someone again, not after everything that happened, but then…” He pauses, just long enough for me to wonder if he had fallen asleep right here and now.

“Then what?”

“Then I found you.” We’re silent for a long moment, him because I presume he’s finished speaking, and me because I am attempting to process his words as they circle around my mind, bumping into the sides violently.

“I care about you too, Leon,” I mumble, forearms wrapping around his head in some kind of strange hug. He shakes his head, his temples pressing against my biceps in disagreement.

“It’s not the same.”

“Well, he told me that you are a nurse and that you guys are best friends.” I visibly relax, thinking it’s nothing to make my mind short-circuit. Then she keeps going. “He said that he doesn’t feel like he’s home after a mission until he’s gotten one of your hugs. That you always smell like warm vanilla, despite your hands always being cold. Said you’re the only one who has ever made him feel safe. Like really, truly safe. He told me that you can’t choose between pink and yellow as your favorite color, and that it changes based on the day. You love lavender, but orchids hold a special place in your heart.”

“I don’t know how he remembers all that…” It’s all I can think to say, having finished off the glass of wine, my fingers tangle together, trying to resist the urge to pick at my cuticles.

“Do you remember those things about him?”

“Of course I do. But it’s different, I-” Stop. Don’t do this. Don’t say it out loud.

“I mean, he told me that he lo-”

“There you girls are.” Leon’s there. Standing in the doorway, suit jacket unbuttoned and tie loosened, and I want to beg Ashley to ‘please, just finish the sentence.’ But I don’t.

“We don’t have to actually-” his hand slides under my chin, tilting my head up and before I can even process it, his lips press to mine. It’s short-lived, but it’s impossible to miss the subtle taste of eggnog and rum. The warmth. Spearmint. His lips are chapped, although that hardly matters at the moment, heart fluttering against my chest as he pulls back, just enough for our noses to brush again. I am never going to be able to forget this.

“Thank you.” Neither of us have opened our eyes, almost afraid to break these precious seconds.

“For what?” I whisper back.

“For everything.”

“Leon Scott Kennedy, you are an impossible man,” I mumble breathily, dropping my head to rest against his clavicle. “You changed the one thing I thought I knew about myself.”

“And what’s that?” I feel his words roll from his chest beneath my cheek.

“I’m not content in my loneliness anymore.” The words are practically whispered by this point.

“That doesn’t exactly answer my question.”

“Technically, you didn’t ask a question. You definitely phrased it as more of a statement.” I can practically hear his eye roll, followed by a deep sigh of exasperation. “You always were my first victim.”

“And I’m gonna be your last, right?” He’s nervous now, the inquiry coming out much quieter. Anxious.

“Yeah,” I agree, and his muscles relax under me. I didn’t even feel them tense up.

“So?” Leon’s hands rub softly across the skin of my back, soothing despite the rough calluses I know he has. It reminds me of the tenderness he is capable of, never mind the hell that he has been through. I sit up again, just enough so that our noses brush, breaths mingling in the space between our kiss-swollen lips.

“Do I get to pick the flowers?” I tease, a small smile growing across my lips. Leon’s blue eyes roll as his own smile appears, a huff of a laugh puffing against my face.

“Yes or no, Nurse Nosy?”

“Yes.”

Leon: @house-of-kolchek @bonnibuckets @athanasia-day @muffimtv Everything: @chaosandbubbles @kassiekolchek22 @akiramoon8088

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon x reader #resident evil fanfiction #leon kennedy smut

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