metam0rph0sis444

[metam0rph0sis444]

Volleyball player leon kennedy x reader 🏐.

_____________________________________

6 months since leon had joined the team.

and it’s been four months

since Leon Kennedy ate gym floor mid-air and won your concern, your hand-holding, and — unfortunately — your undivided attention.

You told yourself it would pass.

You were wrong.

Because now, here you were, standing in a fluorescent-lit hotel lobby three hours from campus, surrounded by duffel bags, exhausted athletes, and the unmistakable sound of Carlos flipping a vending machine off.

And Coach Wesker had just announced: “Room assignments are posted. Get settled. Lights out by ten.”

Cool. Great. You could handle that.

Until you read the list.

Room 312 – Kennedy, L. \ Y/N

You blinked. Blinked again.

“No,” you said aloud, pointing at the sheet like it had personally insulted you.

Claire leaned in. “Yikes.”

Chris, reading over her shoulder, let out a low whistle. “Ohohoho. You’re gonna murder him.”

“Wrong,” you snapped. “I’m going to murder Coach. I mean is this even allowed? .

Leon, of course, appeared right then, fresh off the bus and blissfully unaware of the chaos about to erupt.

“Hey, did I miss something?” he asked.

You shoved the room list in his face.

His smile faded. “…Oh.” He awkwardly responded

⸻

Room 312 – aka the Gates of Hell

The room was nice, if you were into haunted Victorian dollhouse vibes.

There was one queen-sized bed, a TV that only played static, and a window that looked directly into an alley full of feral cats.

You dropped your bag by the door, arms crossed.

Leon hovered by the desk chair, clearly panicking. “I—I can sleep on the floor.”

You stared at him.

You kicked off your shoes. “I’m taking the left side of the bed. Don’t breathe near me. Don’t kick me. Don’t even dream near me.”

“Noted.”

He stood in place like a golden retriever who’d been scolded for peeing on the carpet.

You sighed.

“Leon. Sit down. You look like you’re about to be vaporized.”

“I just… didn’t want this to be weird.”

“It’s already weird,” you muttered.

He sat. Cautiously. Like the bed might explode.

__________________________________________

“Stop moving.”

“I’m not!”

“You literally just rolled into my side.”

“I was asleep!”

“gross, You snore like a vacuum.”

Leon groaned into the pillow. “I do not snore.”

“You do. And your feet are cold.”

There was a long pause. Then, softly—

“…Sorry.”

You opened one eye.

He was looking at the ceiling, arms tucked behind his head. The soft glow of the alley cats outside lit half his face in blue.

You hated how good he looked in moonlight. It felt like betrayal.

“It’s not your fault,” you muttered. “Just… this whole situation is stupid.”

He nodded. “Yeah. But… not completely stupid.”

You turned toward him. “Excuse me?”

His voice was quiet. Careful. “I mean. I don’t hate sharing a room with you.”

Your stomach did a dramatic somersault. You punched it internally.

“Oh no,” you said flatly. “You’re not doing the ‘soft voice, meaningful stare’ thing while we’re lying in a bed. Absolutely not.”

Leon laughed, half-buried in the pillow now. “Okay, okay.”

“Save your charm for the next girl Coach forces you to bunk with.”

“…So, like, next tournament?”

“Leon I will smother you with this pillow.”

You shook it off.

Kind of.

The team won.

But Leon didn’t.

And you could feel it in every breath he took after the last serve hit the ground.

He smiled through the team photos. Joked around on the bus. Gave Carlos a high-five that sounded too loud to be real.

But the second you reached the hotel and people started peeling off to their rooms, his energy evaporated.

He didn’t say anything when you both stepped into the room

Just sat on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, staring at the floor like it had answers he didn’t.

You stood by the bathroom door for a moment, chewing your lip.

This was supposed to be another awkward “don’t breathe near me” kind of night. But something in you shifted when he pulled that hood up over his head and didn’t meet your eyes.

So instead of changing, instead of brushing your teeth and hiding in the covers, you walked over and sat down next to him.

Still. Quiet.

Just long enough that he finally said, “I sucked today.”

You frowned. “You didn’t.”

“Be honest.”

“I am being honest.”

He let out a soft laugh — not funny, just bitter. “I missed two serves, botched the back row cover, and I basically watched Chris get blocked while I stood there like a lamppost.”

You were quiet again.

Then: “You’re allowed to have a bad game.”

“Not when I’m supposed to be one of the good ones.”

“That’s such bull, Leon. Even Chris messes up. He literally tripped over his own kneepad in the second set.”

“Yeah, but no one notices when he does it,” Leon muttered. “When I mess up, it’s like I’m proving everyone right.”

You looked at him.

He wasn’t angry.

He was… tired. The kind of tired that made your chest hurt.

“Proving who right?” you asked gently.

He rubbed the back of his neck. “I know I’m not some star athlete. I’m not flashy. I’m not legacy. I got in late, barely made the team, and I know half the guys think I’m just filling a spot until someone better shows up.”

You blinked. “You think we don’t want you here?”

“No. I think—” He stopped. “I think you don’t.”

That caught you off guard.

He glanced at you, almost embarrassed. “You’re always on edge around me. You act like I’m some annoying kid you have to babysit.”

“I don’t—”

“And I get it,” he said quickly, cutting you off. “I’m not Carlos. I’m not charming or loud or whatever. I mess up and I overthink things and I talk too much when I’m nervous and I—” He exhaled. “I just… I know I’m not easy to like.”

Silence.

He looked away, jaw clenched like he regretted saying any of it.

You stared at him.

Something cracked open in you — something small but sharp.

“I never didn’t want you here,” you said quietly.

Leon didn’t move.

“I didn’t know how to act around you,” you continued. “You walked onto the team like you’d been there for years. Everyone liked you. You were stupidly polite and soft-spoken and weirdly good at serves for someone who claimed to have zero experience. And I…”

You trailed off.

He turned his head slowly. “You what?”

You sighed. “I panicked. Okay? You were—are—nice. Too nice. And I didn’t want to get distracted.”

Leon blinked. “You were distracted by me?”

You groaned. “Don’t make it weird.”

A beat passed.

Then, softly: “I wasn’t trying to be a distraction.”

“I know,” you said. “That’s what made it worse.”

He smiled faintly.

You shifted closer to him on the bed, not quite touching. “You care. Too much, maybe. And yeah, you overthink everything, and you mumble when you’re stressed, and you give those dumb half-smiles like you’re worried people will think you’re too proud of yourself.”

Leon looked down, ears turning pink.

“But none of that makes you less worth it.”

He didn’t answer right away.

“Really?”

“Really.”

You sat there in silence for a while. But it was a comfortable silence.

The room was dim, curtains open just enough for the streetlights to throw soft gold across the carpet.

Finally, under pressure he just said it

“I’ve liked you since week two.”

Your heart stopped.

He stared at his lap. “You yelled at Chris for forgetting his knee brace and then smiled at me when I passed you a water bottle, and I’ve been doomed ever since.”

You blinked at him.

Then, without thinking, you reached over and took his hand.

He looked at it like it might vanish.

“I might’ve been a little doomed too,” you admitted.

He smiled. Really smiled this time. “So… now what?”

You shrugged. “You still snore. That hasn’t changed.”

“I don’t snore.”

“You do.”

Leon shifted, tugging the blanket up as he laid back against the pillows. “If I snore tonight, you can shove me.”

You laid back beside him, your hand still in his.

“No shoving,” you said softly. “Just stay.”

He nodded.

And this time, the quiet between you felt warm — like something unfolding instead of ending.

[metam0rph0sis444]

Leon kennedy! x reader! 🏐

You never thought you’d care so much about a game you didn’t even play.

Being the team manager for the college volleyball team wasn’t glamorous. It meant sweaty towels, endless spreadsheets, and arguing with the athletic department about who stole your Gatorade stash. It also meant early practices, broken clipboards, and chasing volleyballs that always seemed to bounce into traffic.

But it also meant him.

Leon Kennedy.

The team’s newest outside hitter. A transfer sophomore, late addition to the roster. And somehow, despite all your pride and logic and dignity, he was the first person to ever make you forget why you had a “no dating athletes” rule.

Not that it mattered. He barely looked at you when you first met.

⸻

It was a humid Wednesday morning when Coach Wesker had dumped him into your world.

“This is Leon, Leon Kennedy,” he said with a grunt, clipboard tucked under one arm. “Transfer from some small college in Colorado. Late, but he’s got a cannon for an arm. Show him the ropes.”

You’d looked up from your schedule printouts and saw him — golden hair damp from the gym, duffel bag slung over his shoulder, standing awkwardly like he wasn’t sure if he should wave or salute. He wore worn-down sneakers and a sheepish expression, and something about his nervous smile stuck with you longer than it should’ve.

“Hey,” he said, offering a hand. “Leon. Uh, thanks for letting me crash the team.”

You raised a brow, pretending your heart wasn’t doing stupid things. “It’s not a sleepover, Kennedy. If you break a ball cart, you’re buying a new one.”

He laughed nervously. “Right. Got it. No cart-breaking.”

Claire, the other manager — and your partner-in-barely-paid-labor — gave you a look that said you’re already screwed.

And she was right.

⸻

The Team

Leon fit in fast — though not perfectly.

Chris Redfield, the team captain and middle blocker, was protective of the squad. He treated Leon like a new puppy at first skeptical, but eventually affectionate.

Carlos Oliveira, the cocky libero with a fade and too many bracelets, immediately started calling him “rookie” and teasing him for everything — from his clean shoes to the fact that he blushed when the assistant coach spoke to him.

Leon mostly kept to himself. Showed up early. Helped stack chairs after practice. Always thanked you when you handed him tape or water. And every time you caught him staring across the court, it took you a second to realize: he wasn’t staring at the scoreboard. He was staring at you.

⸻

“Your timing’s late,” you muttered one evening, handing Leon a stats sheet after a practice match. “You’re jumping too early on your cross.”

He blinked. “how would you know..? You play too?”

You glanced up from your clipboard. “yeah.”

A pause.

“Oh. Right. Yeah.” He scratched the back of his neck. “That makes sense.”

He smiled, then immediately looked down, as if smiling was too risky.

Claire snorted behind you. “Smooth.”

You didn’t stop smiling for an hour.

⸻

Over time, things shifted.

You caught him watching you more. You started saving his favorite tape color. He brought you snacks from the vending machine without asking. Claire noticed first.

“You like him.”

“No, I don’t.”

“You do. You get all weird when he says your name.”

“I do not get weird.”

“You called him “lee” yesterday”

“Shut up…”

__________________________________________

A/N I have so many ideas oh em gee tell me if u guys like! also inspired by the pretty boy at my school who looks like Leon Kennedy who happens to play volleyball…hehe 

[metam0rph0sis444]

When a fanfic has good writing, 10k words a chapter, slowburn and an author who is active

[metam0rph0sis444]

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. Ada wong x reader! / jealously

You *really* thought she was in this for you?

. It’s laughable, honestly. Just how naïve you are. And uneducated. Maybe, the long list of exes your famous nepo-baby boyfriend possesses is simply something you choose not to involve yourself in. Not purposely, clearly. But her? You don’t know that the famous actress, Ada Wong was originally engaged to your current boyfriend, Leon S Kennedy She thinks you must be asking for it. Of course, you’d never suspect a thing. She’s an angel, after all. You’re just so close, You remind her of yourself. Just another upcoming model.

..She’s plotting on you. These little, petty and coincidental inconveniences are sure to turn into major crisis-causing interferences if you don’t distance yourself. Easier said than done. She’s not one to back down. And she won’t let you slip through her fingers the same way she foolishly let Leon.

You’re at a typical hollywood hills party taking place in a typical, affluently boring, glass-walled home. It’s nothing too important—merely a successful producers wrap party. Dragged along by your boyfriend, which reluctantly, you attended. Eventually, bored by the act of trotting behind Leon ike a lost dog, you walk off on your own.

Suddenly, through the front doors comes Ada—making the usual dramatized, eye-catching entrance she always does. Eyes are on her and her aura alone. It’s breathtaking To most people Except for you.

..She’s plotting on you. These little, petty and coincidental inconveniences are sure to turn into major crisis-causing interferences if you don’t distance yourself. Easier said than done. She’s not one to back down. And she won’t let you slip through her fingers the same way she foolishly let Leon

You’re at a typical hollywood hills party taking place in a typical, affluently boring, glass-walled home. It’s nothing too important—merely a successful producers wrap party. Dragged along by your boyfriend, which reluctantly, you attended. Eventually, bored by the act of trotting behind Leon ike a lost dog, you walk off on your own.

Suddenly, through the front doors comes Ada—making the usual dramatized, eye-catching entrance she always does. Eyes are on her and her aura alone. It’s breathtaking To most people Except for you.

It was the first thing she noticed about you. You didn’t care. You weren’t easily bewitched. You weren’t nearly as impressionable as any of her previous rivals. So, how would this work?

Ada shouts out your name from across the room, ecstatic as ever as she walks over to you—her red stilettos clacking an amount near excessive. “You should’ve told me you were coming. Thought I was about to be bored out of my mind.” She laughs, but it sounds rehearsed. Shoulders shaking, fur boa slipping down her forearms. She’s close. Too close. On purpose.

After a little while, Ada comes along and sits down on the red silky couch next to you and Leon.

Leon, she says practically all over him not even trying to hide it.

Leon tenses slightly but plays it cool. “Hey, Ada.”

You lean into him instinctively. Her eyes catch that.

“I didn’t know you’d be here,” she says, running her hand down his arm in a way that’s way too familiar.

Your heart skips. Your jaw tightens.

“Funny,” you say sharply. “I’m starting to think you always end up wherever we are.”

She barely looks at you. “Coincidence,” she says sweetly. “Or fate.”

And then — God help you — Ada crosses her legs slowly. She leans in, whispering something near his ear. His face stiffens, unsure if he should laugh or pull away.

That’s it.

You stand.

“Ada. Come with me. Now.”

The group goes silent.

She raises a brow — amused. “Ooh. That tone. Should I be scared?”

You don’t answer. You’re already walking away.

And, of course, she follows.

⸻

You slam the rooftop door shut behind her.

Cold air hits your skin. The city sparkles below, uncaring.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” you snap, spinning on her. “What are you doing?”

She tilts her head, innocent. “Flirting.”

“With my boyfriend.”

“He was mine first.”

“And now he’s not.”

“But you are, aren’t you?” she says, stepping closer. “That’s what this is really about.”

You blink. “What?”

She sighs like she’s exhausted from your denial.

“I tried to take him back,” she says. “For months. It was fun. But you? You’re… interesting. The way you react. The way you try so hard not to let me in.”

She steps closer. You step back — your spine meeting the brick wall.

“You hate me,” she murmurs, voice low. “You think I’m disgusting. Vain. Dangerous.”

You swallow. “You are.”

“And yet…” Her fingers graze your wrist. “You brought me up here. Alone.”

Your pulse spikes.

“I wanted to end this,” you whisper.

“But you didn’t walk away.” Her face is inches from yours now. “You never do. Not really.”

Her perfume makes your head spin. Her eyes scan your mouth.

“I think you like being hunted,” she breathes. “I think you want to know what I’ll do next.”

You try to speak, but nothing comes out. Her hand brushes your hip.

“I could ruin you,” she whispers. “Break your perfect little world apart. And you’d let me.”

Your voice is shaky. “Why me?”

She leans closer, mouth brushing your cheek as she speaks.

“Because you’re not pretending. Not with me. And that terrifies you.”

Then she pulls back — slowly. Like she’s giving you the choice.

You hate her. You want to scream at her. But your heart is beating so hard it’s in your throat.

And you don’t know if it’s fear.

Or something more intimate .

[metam0rph0sis444]

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ───**

ִ ࣪ ˖ ࣪ ᨰꫀᥣᥴ᥆ꩇꫀ ! ᰔ ִ ׄ

⋆.˚ ⋆.˚ ✦. Jun, 17 Gemini . She/her ♬⋆.˚

what fandoms do I write for? Lads, resident evil, the last of us, and jujutsu kaisen.

I mostly write angst, fluff ~ open to writing smut, I like writing write oneshots or fanfics! Will link to my a03 when I get it going.

𐙚⋆˚✿˖°

requests are open!!

‹𝟑.ᐟ masterlist out soon 💋