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dylan-o-yumm · 2 years ago

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Little Moments (Part 2)

It's finally here! Im so sorry for the wait but you have all been very lovely and patient, I hope you enjoy the second and final part of Little Moments. Feedback is ALWAYS welcome! AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/46338547/chapters/122848546

Warnings: Talk of trauma and PTSD, talk of break-in’s, reader is done with Leon’s shit, SMUT, unprotected sex, cream pie, kitchen sex

Word Count: 9k

Part 1, Part 2

“I don’t think I’m ready to share everything…”

“That’s okay, dear. Just say whatever you’re willing to say. This is a place to share and cast judgment aside. You’re safe here.” An elderly woman smiled at you comfortingly, her wrinkled hands shaking as they held onto her cane. Her eyes weren’t the only ones on you, there were men and women all sitting in a circle, every one of you sitting on a cold grey chair.

You were in a rather spacious room, it was well lit and the children’s drawings taped to the walls brought a comforting vibe to the space. However, the air conditioning made the room a few degrees too cold, causing goosebumps to rise on your skin as you hugged yourself and looked at a spot on the floor as everyone else’s eyes remained on you.

You swallowed your nerves and cleared your throat.

“I went on a vacation to Spain a few months ago,” you started, releasing a shaky breath and rubbing your arm to rid your skin of the little bumps. “On my second day there, I was kidnapped. I was… held hostage in this small house that reeked of rotting… fruit.” That was a lie, it smelled of rotting flesh but you couldn’t say that to a bunch of small town people who were comfortable living in ignorance. You couldn’t blame them for living that way though. Ignorance is bliss.

“I managed to escape after three days, and hid inside a barn for about… just over twenty-four hours I think. There were people everywhere, but I stayed hidden because I was so scared of what they would do to me if they found me,” you stared through the floor now, becoming distant as the memories plagued your mind.

You couldn’t share too much. Perhaps you had already shared too much. People couldn’t know about all the horrors, the monsters, the infections, the mutations. But did that mean you had to bottle everything up for the rest of your life and slowly turn yourself crazy? Wondering if what happened back then was actually real or if you just made it all up in your head. Having no outlet…

“Whatever… Long story short, I obviously survived and got out of there…” you wouldn’t be here to tell the tale otherwise. You didn’t want to speak any more about what you went through, all these people needed to know was that you had a traumatic vacation. They couldn’t know about Ashley or Leon or Ada. You got as much off of your chest as need be, and now you could openly talk about your feelings, right? — Which is what you had come here for.

“I still feel like I’m there, though.”

No one interrupted you, giving you the floor to say whatever you needed or wanted. That was what this place was for, to open up about things you couldn’t open up about to family or friends. Other people who understood what it might feel like. Maybe not fighting against monsters and mutated people, but they knew the struggles that came afterwards. The trauma, the PTSD. All the people sitting in a circle with you had trauma of their own, and they were all dealing with it somehow.

They were brave for being here and opening up. So why didn’t you feel brave?

“I'm constantly on edge. I'm scared of the dark again, to the point where I need to turn on all the lights in my home- so I'm pretty sure I’m building up one hell of an electricity bill…” you scoffed lightly but no one else found it humorous. Some people slowly nodded along, knowing almost exactly how you felt.

“Whenever I do manage to sleep — which is very rare these days— I have these horrible nightmares where I’ll wake up screaming and thrashing in my bed… I’ve actually worried my neighbors a few times,” you remember the first time it happened. Police had knocked on your door and asked if you were okay. They then came into your home and searched around, no matter how many times you said you were fine and no one else was in the house with you. Having the police check the house however, did bring some comfort.

A few nights later it happened again, but instead of the police, it was your neighbor. They asked if you were okay and you apologized profusely for waking them up a second time. They seemed nice and understanding enough. Until the fifth time when they knocked on your door and tiredly begged you to get help.

Today was your first day out of the house in weeks.

Your eyes stung with tears yet to be shed.

“I feel like I’m losing my mind… I don’t want to live like this. I just want to know when it’ll get better.” A broken, half amused, wet sob escaped past your lips which brought you back to the room you were in. Everyone’s eyes on you started to feel so much heavier and unsettling. You couldn’t help but shrink back into your seat and avoid eye contact with every one of them.

“It does get better. The healing process is different for everyone, dear,” the old woman spoke up again, her smile was sad but comforting. You wanted a hug from her. You were able to meet her gaze for a short moment before looking at, and keeping your eyes fixed on the bottom of her cane. “I hope you’re very proud of yourself for all that you have survived. I know we are all proud of you… isn’t that right, everyone?”

The people around you murmured soft encouragements and nodded in agreement.

—————————————————————

You were emotionally drained on your walk back home, being so lost in your own head that you barely remembered walking at all. First you were at group therapy, and suddenly you were back home, standing in your driveway. You had headphones in your ears but there was no music playing, no podcast, just the sound of silence — blocking out noise of cars passing by or people chatting or birds chirping. Nice and quiet.

You liked the quiet when you weren’t inside your home. When you were inside your home the silence gave you time to think, to be alone with your thoughts. You didn’t like being inside your home anymore. It was too isolating. You didn’t like being alone, you didn’t like being so on edge all the time, thinking there were monsters hiding in every shadow. Yet when you were inside your home, it was hard to leave it.

You stood on your driveway, staring at your home. You were stalling, you didn’t want to go inside just yet. You wanted to stand out in the sun for a moment longer, and feel safe a moment longer. It was an odd sensation to feel safe on the street, but not inside your own home. Maybe something to do with enclosed spaces?

Thankfully you remained outside for a moment longer, or you would have missed the shadow of, what seemed to be, a person walking past your kitchen window. It was brief and you wanted to play it off as your mind just playing tricks on you. Maybe a bird flew past and you mistook it for something else? Maybe the curtains on your kitchen window caught the wind? But no… the uneasy feeling in your stomach was enough to know…

To know that someone was inside your house.

Or… something was inside your house.

Your blood ran cold and your heart started beating rapidly inside your chest— if you were to look down you would have seen the thump thump thump of it hitting against your chest hard and frightfully. You needed to go inside and neutralize the threat, that’s what Leon would do, and that’s what you needed to do. The thought of calling the police hadn’t even entered your mind but you didn’t want to wait around for them anyway. Who knew what that thing was doing in your house. How long they had been inside there for.

Had they been in there before you left for group therapy?

That thought terrified you.

What if they had been hiding somewhere while you were inside? Watching you while you watched tv, while you slept, while you ate and showered. While you were vulnerable... Surely you would have known right? You would have heard something, smelled something. If it were a monster, you would most likely be dead by now.

You needed to stop thinking about ‘ifs’ and ‘buts’ and actually do something. You needed to take back your home.

You crouched down and grabbed the closest item to you, which was a solar powered garden light that was stabbed into the dirt — pointy and sharp, a good enough weapon to stab monsters with. Now you just had to sneak inside somehow without getting caught. To be light on your feet and keep your shaky breaths subtle and, preferably, silent.

Thankfully the front door was unlocked, so opening the door quietly only took patience and a steady hand. You were concerned however, because you really thought you had locked the door on your way out. How did this intruder get inside your home? The thought that they had been inside your house all along really started to weigh on you and stress you out even more than you already were.

Slowly and gently opening the front door, you left it open behind you as you carefully stepped inside the house. You raised your arm, pointing the end of the garden lamp up and ready to strike or stab whatever was inside your home, whatever was stupid enough to think you wouldn’t put up a fight… To be honest you didn't know until this very moment that you would put up a fight. You figured you were the cower and hide type, but perhaps the horrors of Spain prepared you for moments like these.

One foot in front of the other, you made your way down the hall and away from the entrance of your house, staying on your tippy toes and being cautious of your weight placement. All it took was one wrong step and your position would be discovered by the enemy. And it just so happened to be your luck that, even though your steps were light and careful, one wrong step on one particularly loose floorboard had you almost crying as panic came over you.

You winced and moved your foot off of the squeaky floorboard, knowing not to step there again. However you didn't know if you had already been found, you couldn't see or hear anyone so maybe you were in luck? Or maybe there was a deaf monster lurking about. You remember Leon telling you about Lickers and the Garradors who were blind but had sharp hearing skills. Maybe there were some monsters that couldn't hear well but could… see through walls or smell you from a mile away?

No.

You still had the element of surprise to your advantage, you just needed to be more careful.

It only took you a few more careful steps until you were in the kitchen, which is where you saw the intruder through the window. You held your weapon tightly in both your hands now, preparing to strike down or lunge forward into a body that could and would probably kill you. But not before you put a couple holes in them.

The floorboards creaked again, but this time, not under your weight.

You yelled and swung your weapon as a figure made its way into your peripherals. You aimed to plunge the sharp spike into the skull of your intruder, however, your arms were unable to come all the way down, something blocking you from eliminating the threat. Your wrists were caught in a strong grip. A strong hand, a male hand, holding you tight and bruising your skin.

The hand pinched and twisted, angling your hands at an awkward angle. You held onto your weapon for dear life but the hand simply twisted your wrists even more until you were forced to drop it and wince in pain. The weapon clattered to the floor noisily and you gasped as you tried to twist your hands back the right way. You needed to get out of this and fight and scream and make a scene so that hopefully your neighbors would call the police. But right before your lips parted, a scream building up in your belly, your eyes met his…

“I knew you were here but I couldn’t pinpoint where. Keeping the front door open was a smart move — the sound from outside muffled your noises,” Leon quipped, his eyes squinting slightly as he cracked his neck.

You were completely stunned. Calmer now that you weren’t fearing for your life, but stunned nonetheless. What the hell was Leon doing in your house? How did he get into your house? He probably knew how to lockpick but all you had seen him do was kick down doors with his own damn feet. And you don’t remember seeing any boot prints on your door.

“You didn’t want to call out to me and let me know you were here?! I was just at a fucking PTSD therapy circle thing! Now is not the time to be scaring me like this!” You yanked your hands out of his grip and angrily took a step back away from him.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, though he didn’t sound disingenuous. It had been a few months since you had last seen Leon. His hair was still straight and styled in a way that shaped his face nicely, his eyes were the same deep blue you loved to swim in, his brow was a little more tense than you remembered. However the main difference was the slight prickly stubble on his face. It made him look more mature, more jagged, more hardened.

You huffed, hands on your hips, glaring at him. You gave yourself a moment to calm your racing heart, to get out of your fight or flight mode.

“Why are you here? I thought I’d never see you again,” you couldn’t help your snippy and impatient tone. You had said goodbye to Leon, you had prepared to never see him again, to move on and find someone new. You had almost stopped thinking about him and pining over him and now here he was standing in your kitchen? Uninvited?

“I just… had to make sure you were okay,” He answered a little bashfully, forcing himself to hold eye contact with you but you could tell he was a little nervous and maybe even embarrassed.

“Why would I not be okay?”

“Well, you live alone for starters,” he stated bluntly and gestured loosely around the room as if to say ‘I don’t see anyone else here to keep an eye on you.’

“Thanks. I'm aware,” you sassed, rolling your eyes as if he were just rubbing it in your face that you were single and living alone. Did he live with someone? He was single… right? He wouldn’t have kissed you back at the hotel if he had someone at home waiting for him. Leon was a loyal guy, it didn’t take a genius to figure that out.

Why did you care though? You had your chance and he was the one that walked away from you. You didn’t think you did anything wrong to make him walk away, so maybe he just wasn’t into you like that. Maybe you were a lousy kisser and he didn’t have the heart to tell you. Maybe he was holding out for Ada.

“You’re not happy to see me,” he stated. It wasn’t a question.

“You shouldn’t be here, Leon!” You snapped, your eyebrows raising into your hairline, pleading with him to understand where you were coming from — how confused you were and how painful this would turn out to be. You had just gotten over him, and now he was back? Which could only mean you would have to get over him all over again. “When you dropped me back off here all those months ago, and you turned around and left, that was meant to be the last time I saw you!”

“I thought you’d be happy? Especially after how we left things at the—“

“Don’t even get me started on the hotel room incident.” You quickly cut him off, hands on your hips and a sour expression on your face. He looked so innocently confused, maybe even a little hurt. His eyes weren’t very expressive, he was rather good at hiding his emotions, though if you looked close enough, you could see right through him.

“That makes it sound like it was an accident,” his brows pinched together and you hated that you thought he looked cute.

“Wasn’t it?” You shrugged, having an expectant look on your face. You wouldn’t be disappointed again, you couldn’t be. It was too hard getting over him the first time, you couldn’t do it again. Not now, not when you had finally started trying to do better for yourself.

Leon was silent for a moment.

“I don’t know.” He finally answered, quiet and dejected.

It hurt.

Knowing that he might say it was a mistake, might consider it to be a mistake. It wasn’t like you two slept together, it was just some kissing, and hugging… and sleeping, but no sex. It was a gentle, tender moment between two lost souls who just survived something that might as well have been out of a horror film. You needed Leon at that moment and you thought he needed you too, but maybe it really was just a big mistake— something that would only hurt your feelings again and again and again.

At least with Leon, he knew your pain and you knew his. Maybe not all of it, but you were bonded through trauma. It wasn’t like you could date any random person and expect them to deal with all your baggage that you carried off that damn island with you. Leon at least had the same type of baggage as you so there was an unspoken understanding between the two of you, something that no one else could have with you.

But you couldn’t fool yourself. It wasn’t meant to be, and even Leon knew that.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and forced down the burning sensation that lingered behind your eyes, threatening to bring the tears. You would be an immovable rock, staring down Leon Kennedy where he stood.

“Why are you here, Leon?” You asked once again... slower and quieter, but more firmly this time. He would not feel welcome here and you would make sure of it. It was for your own good.

“I kept having this dream— nightmare.” He forced the words out like he was ashamed to admit he had any nightmares at all, but you’d be more concerned if he didn’t, given his line of work. You can’t see all that horrible shit and then come out perfectly fine on the other side. You weren’t okay and you had experienced, maybe a quarter, of what Leon himself had gone through. “You were all alone here, and… I had to make sure you were okay.” He continued.

“A nightmare?” You asked skeptically, wondering why that meant he would want to come here. So you continued, “about me?”

He nodded his head. “You were hurt. Needed me,” he stood stiffly, trying to remain cool, calm and collected, but whatever he dreamt about had clearly shaken him. You could see the nightmare playing behind his eyes, the way his eyes felt muted and dulled, and his features slackened as if just the memory alone took all the energy from him.

Whatever he had dreamt about you, it was enough to make him worried. So worried that he would drop everything and come all the way here, on his day off, just to see you. So worried that he couldn’t even tell you the details of said nightmare. He knew it was just a nightmare and that you were safe… He wasn’t here for you, he was here for himself. To ease his own fears. At least you knew he cared for you somewhat.

You decided not to press him about what happened in said nightmare, you weren’t sure you wanted to know anyway.

“How’d you get inside?”

“I remembered where you kept your spare key,” he responded, a little life coming back to his face, obviously glad for the topic change. And his answer relieved you, knowing that there wasn’t a smashed window somewhere or a faulty lock on one of your doors. You thought about moving the spare key from under the doormat but then, how would Leon find his way back inside then? That was, if he was even planning on coming back.

Did you want him to come back?

Him being here was already confusing your mind and your heart.

“How did you get here?” You continued questioning him.

“I rode here. Motorbike,” he gestured outside with a faint tilt of his head. You looked out the kitchen window and sure enough, there on the side of the street curb was a sleek, black motorcycle with a black helmet dangling off the handlebar. You scoffed at the thought of him riding all the way over to your home on a motorbike — however then you realized you didn’t even know where he lived, so maybe he was rather close by and the ride was shorter than you were expecting? You just assumed Leon was too far out of your grasp, physically and emotionally.

“Is that meant to impress me? Mr. Leon Kennedy rides a motorbike?” You turned back to him and cocked an eyebrow. He was subtle in the way he was smirking, his eyes constantly on you and watching your reaction, even when you turned to take one last glance at the bike sitting on your curb.

“Is it working?”

“No.” Yes.

“Then no.”

You huffed, looking down at your shoes for a moment to take your eyes off of his gorgeous blue ones. You really had a weakness for them, if anyone could resist their charm, you’d think them psychopathic.

“Did you check in on Ashley too?” You asked, feeling a pang of jealousy at the thought of him going to check in on her before he came to check on you, but you didn’t let it show on your face.

“Ashley has bodyguards.” So that was a no, you gathered. He only came here to check in on you? No one else?

“Is that why you’re here…? To be my bodyguard?” You questioned, crossing your arms over your chest and tilting your head, trying to maintain your minimal patience attitude.

“No. I wish I could, but I can’t.” He scoffed and your heart cracked a little, not because you wanted a bodyguard but because his words echoed in your head. They had been echoing in your head for the last few months.

“There it is again. ‘I can’t.’” You scoffed back at him.

“Again? What do you mean?” His brows pinched together in confusion.

“Back at the hotel. While Ashley was showering. You know, before the incident. You told me you can’t… Can't what, Leon?” You reminded him, staring deep into his soul and knowing you were making him uncomfortable by putting him on the spot, but you didn’t care. He made you uncomfortable by breaking into your house unannounced, so if he wanted to do that, you would pay him back by grilling him for the answers to the question that you had been pondering for months now.

He sighed and his posture sagged, your words immediately took ten years off of his life. He had an answer but he didn’t know how to say it, it was complicated— everything about his life was complicated.

You stood there staring at him for a few long seconds before he finally spoke up.

“You know what.” He told you in a quiet but stern voice.

“I wanna hear you say it.” You quickly retorted. Because after all these months of pondering, you had a good idea of what he had meant back then. It didn’t take a genius to figure it out, Leon was a selfless guy. And he had been acting selfless for as long as you’d known him, except for today. It wasn’t very selfless of him to come see you.

So he didn’t say anything, he didn’t respond to you, but he didn't have to.

You signed.

“It’s my choice, you know.” You folded your arms over your chest and told him blatantly how it was.

“Don’t these things usually need two people to be in agreement?” He sassed.

“It is my choice,” you stopped him from talking, not wanting to hear his witty remarks and cheesy one liners. “If I want to sit and worry for weeks or months while you’re away on a mission, that’s my choice. If I want to put my life in danger just because I want to be around you more, that is my choice.” You explained angrily, wanting him to either get it through his thick skull or to leave your home.

He huffed a short, heavy breath, resting his hands on the kitchen counter as he leaned forward and dropped his head down, his chin almost touching his chest. “You don’t even know me.” He sounded sad, and you realized that he probably felt like a lot of people didn't really know him. He was never in one place for too long, he didn't seem like the kind of guy to have friends outside of work, only because his life was his work. No one knew Leon personally.

“I know enough.”

“No. You don’t. I'm just some guy who saved your ass. Ever heard of trauma bonding? It’s when you-“

“I know what trauma bonding is!” You quickly cut him off, knowing that what he was saying could potentially be true – you did experience a lot of trauma alongside him. But it felt like more than just a trauma bond… Though how could you ever truly know? “I haven't known you for a long time but I don’t need to… You’re gentle and kind. You made Ashley and I feel so safe. You put our safety above all else.”

“It was my job-“

“I saw the way you spoke to Ashley after she attacked you. When she was scared of hurting you again. I saw how much you hated seeing her in pain when we were in Luis’ lab, how you held her hand through it all, even though you were seconds away from being infected yourself… Forget the fact that you saved our lives. I’m focused on the little moments. The moments where you weren't just doing your job.”

“I can’t…” he refused to meet your gaze but you didn’t give him the chance to shut down. Not yet. You stepped closer to him.

“When Luis died. You lit a cigarette for him. You comforted him in his last moments even though he was a pain in the ass… You also ended Krauser’s suffering. You didn’t care about how it would affect you, you just knew that you had to be the one to do it. And even though he kidnapped Ashley and he tried to kill us multiple times… I believe you when you say he was a good man. Because I trust you, Leon.”

He was still quiet, refusing to look at you but you could see his face, see the way he took in your words and the way his body relaxed slightly. Maybe it was all obvious to you, how good he was, but that didn’t mean he didn’t need to hear it.

“I’m never going to have a decent night's sleep again because of all the shit I've seen, but if you told me you needed me to go back to that village for whatever reason. I would do it in a heartbeat. I would do it… all over again. I’d do it for you.”

“I would never ask that of you,” he whispered, finally looking up to give you a shy glance through his hair.

“That’s all you got from my speech?” You cocked your hip and frowned.

“No. I just… I don’t want you getting hurt.” He turned his body to you completely now, one hand resting on the countertop while the other hung by his side, itching to reach out and grab you. You stepped to him again, holding eye contact even when you could tell he was feeling flustered and embarrassed. Your chest was close to pressing against his.

“It’s my choice. Hurt me.” You whispered back.

His eyes remained on yours, you could see every emotion running through his mind, every thought, every feeling. He was fighting with himself for the first second — trying to convince himself out of whatever it was you were trying to get him to do. Trying to convince himself that he should just leave your home, he checked in on you just like he intended to, you were fine and safe. He could leave now.

However, his mind wasn’t as strong as his heart was.

Like two lions lunging at one another, you and Leon pounced at the same time. His hands grabbed your face and your hands buried themselves in his dirty blond hair as your faces squished together. Teeth clacking against teeth, nose pressing against nose, trying to bury your way into each other's skin.

His lips were on yours but the both of you were pressing so hard into each other, you could only feel your top lip being sandwiched in between your gums and his lips. So hard that your lips swelled almost immediately, as did his. Not that you had a chance to look in a mirror or even part from him long enough to see just how swollen his lips were, as you were too busy pushing him back into the kitchen counter while toeing your shoes and socks off.

His back bumped into the counter and something clattered onto the ground, you didn’t take a moment to care what it was, even if it was your most prized possession, you couldn’t care at that moment. Leon’s hands remained on your face, holding you softly and sweetly no matter how hard his lips pressed against yours, but you wanted him to touch you elsewhere.

Instead of using your words, your hands slid out from his hair and down his neck, over his pectorals and down to the hem of his shirt. You kissed him a moment longer before slowly pulling it up, holding your lips against his for as long as you possibly could until the hem of his shirt had been lifted up to his chin, which meant you had to pull away to take it off.

Finally now you could get a look at his puffy lips, his flushed face, his lust-filled eyes. The both of you panting heavily to catch your breath as you lifted his shirt off of him and discarded it on the floor. Your hands immediately touched his warm skin, feeling the curves and definition of his abs. He was hairless, smooth and a little shiny from the thin layer of sweat he was building up, but you couldn’t take your eyes off of the v-line dipping into his jeans.

Leon’s hands came back to your face, gently cupping your cheeks and brushing your hair behind your ear. Your eyes were torn off of his body and pulled back up to meet his gaze. Panting softly now, having filled your lungs with enough air, you reached up and took his left hand in your right. His eyes watched his hand as you moved it off of your face and down past your neck. Your eyes however, remained on his.

His hand flattened out once you guided him to your chest, though where you wanted him to tear your clothes off or grope you mercilessly… he instead paused for a moment to feel your racing heartbeat. His lips parted and he breathed out softly but just heavily enough for you to feel his breath on your skin.

“Leon?”

“Are you sure about this?”

You huffed, tilting your head to the side disappointedly. His self doubt was not going to ruin this moment. You took his hand, peeling it off of your chest and bringing his open palm to your lips where you gave him a soft yet lingering kiss. His eyes softened at the gesture and you could make out a hint of a smile on his face before you then guided his hand back down to your chest, over your right breast.

His hand slowly closed around the clothed mound and squeezed softly. “I guess that answers that question.”

You smiled, a soft chuckle coming out your nose before your hand stopped guiding him and instead went back to burying itself in his soft hair. His face remained quite red as he watched what his own hand was doing, massaging and rubbing your breast with soft, gentle fingers. You couldn’t help but find it so endearing, the fact that you told him to hurt you and yet his touch had never been gentler.

“Are you a virgin?” The words slipped out of your mouth before you could stop them, a teasing smirk unable to while itself off your lips.

“What? No. I just… We’re in the kitchen, I’m not sure w-“ you cut him off instantly with a scoff, smacking his hand away from you playfully and turning your back to him. He was worried that he had offended you or hurt you somehow, but he watched as you jumped up onto the kitchen counter, sitting down with your legs spread the perfect amount for him to come stand in between.

He didn’t move just yet as he continued watching you. Your hands grabbed the hem of your own shirt and pulled it up and over your head, tossing it on top of Leon’s shirt that was also discarded on the floor. The sunset behind you, streaming in through the open window, surrounded you and made your body glow. Leon finally moved forward and took his place between your open legs.

“I don’t have to tell you what to do, do I?” You teased him a little more and his eyes had never looked so young and innocent. It was incredibly hard to believe that this man had killed a whole village full of zombies. Yet here he was, pressing against you, his jeans tight and his zipper digging into his groin painfully. He shook his head no, to answer your rhetorical question, but his hands finally started moving again.

Starting on your thighs, his hands slid upwards, his thumbs coming incredibly close to where you throbbed and craved his touch. But his hands followed the round of your hips and settled on the waistband of your pants. His forehead rested against yours as he looked down, watching as he tugged the fabric down.

“Lift your hips,” he told you and you obeyed, leaning back on your hands and raising your pelvis as Leon slid your pants down your thighs. They stopped around your ankles but Leon didn’t want to bend down and leave your space for even a moment. So you watched and gasped as his boot came down between your ankles and stomped the material down in one swift motion, having them off your body and on the floor in an instant, but something about the action made your body even more tingly.

Left in nothing but your panties and your bra, Leon looked down at you and admired your body while your hands grabbed at his belt and loosened his pants. Once he was free enough that the zipper was no longer digging into him, he stopped you from what you were doing and suddenly captured both your wrists in his firm grip.

“Leon? I’m sorry, am I moving too fast or something?” You worried yourself for a moment but Leon settled your fears with his lips on yours. His kisses were remaining hard and rough, but everything else about him was gentle and loving. Your eyes fluttered shut and his grasp on your wrists lessened a little, but he pushed forward with his lips until you were about to fall backwards out the window, only he released your hands in time for you to place them behind your back and save yourself.

“Stay like this,” he whispered, and you realised he had just done that on purpose. He wanted you to lean back and take what he gave you, he wanted your hands behind your back and no longer focusing on him. He wanted you to relax and enjoy yourself.

His hand started on your stomach, thumb stroking your skin and following the dip of your navel. You watched his hand, lips parted and a soft gasp escaped your mouth. He was barely touching you but he had already set your skin ablaze.

Your heart started pounding faster and faster as Leon’s hand lowered down to your panties, sliding over the top of the fabric and settling between your thighs. The subtle touch over your clit had you jolting and bucking your hips, desperate for more of his touch.

His eyes met yours for a short moment, making sure you were okay, before his fingers slipped your panties to the side and started stroking your wet folds with his knuckle.

Your head tilted back and you sighed, turning into liquid under his touch. He watched you with hungry eyes, continuing to stroke your slick folds until his finger was covered in your fluids, lubricating him enough for the tip of his finger to dance around your hole. You bit your lip and lifted your head back up to watch as he, ever so slowly, sunk the tip of his index finger inside your tight walls.

“Oh fuck,” you moaned breathily as you spread your legs open even wider. Leon slid his finger in until the heel of his palm was flush against your clit, curling his index finger to find the soft and spongy spot inside you that had your toes curling. He was slow and deliberate with his movements, keeping his finger inside while doing a come hither motion, making you wetter and wetter until a second digit prodded at your hole.

“You feel good,” he whispered breathily while watching his own fingers slide inside you and coax out your arousal, completely transfixed on the sight while you laid back and enjoyed what he was doing to you.

“It’ll feel better when you use your dick—“

“Shhh… we’re going slow. I’m gonna make sure you’re ready first… I’m not going to hurt you,” he promised, leaning in and pressing his nose to the space just below your ear, breathing in the scent of your shampoo and body wash as he closed his eyes and melted into you. His lips were next to touch your skin, leaving soft open mouthed kisses against your neck while he continued to finger you nice and slowly.

His breath was warm against your skin, and his lips were soft like pillows. He had you shuddering and whimpering when he added his tongue into the mix. He started out with gentle kisses where the tip of his tongue lightly teased your skin, moving around to find the part of your neck that had you giving him the best reactions. Once your breathing got heavier, he flattened his tongue and licked a long, slow stripe up to your ear before nibbling your earlobe into his mouth and sucking softly.

You couldn’t help but dig your heels into the counter to pull your body onto Leon’s fingers more, doing your best to grind against his palm as you got completely lost in your pleasure. Your walls fluttered around his two fingers as he thrusted them into you and curled them just right, you wanted more though. You wanted him to roughly fuck you with his fingers, to plunge as many fingers as he wanted into you while the sound of squelching filled the room. But he was so gentle instead, so soft and sweet.

His free hand that had been gripping your waist moved around to the small of your back. He trailed his palm up your spine slowly until his fingers skilfully unclasped your bra in one swift movement. He quickly tore the fabric off of your chest, freeing you from your bra so your breasts were on full display for him. That was a little rougher than he had previously been and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make your cunt clamp down hard on his fingers.

Leon pulled back from his assault on your neck and ear to get a nice long look at you, admiring your breasts and pert nipples. “Fuck,” he sighed and you blushed under his gaze, but he soon had you moaning and panting once again as his head dived down to press kisses along the curve of your breasts before latching his mouth onto your right nipple.

And it was then that he finally started fingering you with a bit more force and speed. With his tongue swirling around your hardened nub and his fingers fucking into your tightness, you held back a squeal as your legs instinctively shut and clamped around his arm. He didn’t care much however, as he was strong enough to continue the work with his fingers, speeding up more and more and more until you had to squeeze your eyes shut and your whole body tensed up.

“Leo-fuck! Slow d-down! Fuck fuck fuck!” Your whole body curled up as Leon continued finger fucking you at such speeds your mind had completely gone blank. Your hands left the kitchen counter and had wrapped your arms around his neck, forcing his face to be trapped against your breasts. He growled against your skin and you fought the urge to kick your legs and accidentally hurt him as a wave of boiling hot pleasure waved over your whole body. Starting at your stomach and then spreading outwards to the rest of your limbs.

You came with a grunt, almost sounding angry because how dare he be so fucking good at that. How dare he make you feel so fucking good before you had even dared to touch him, before you had even seen his body. You came and he still had his pants on. How dare he!

Though you didn’t have much time to calm down from your first orgasm or to even cuss him out for his stupidly skilled fingers, before he was slipping his fingers out of you and fumbling with his belt to lower his pants.

He let out a choked sigh as he revealed himself, the cool air kissing the hot, angry skin of his cock as it sprung free and slapped against his lower stomach. The tip just reached his belly button and smeared a little mess of precum across his navel which almost had you salivating and spreading your legs even wider like a needy pornstar.

You watched as he grabbed himself, using his wet fingers — wet with your cum, to lubricate himself. You could watch his hands move and stroke himself for years, he was clearly a little shy doing so in front of you, but you were far too excited to feel him inside of you that you had no room for embarrassment at the moment.

“You comfy there?” He asked, one hand stroking his cock while the other reached out and squeezed your inner thigh.

“Yes. I mean no, but if you make me wait any longer we’re going to have a problem,” you huff desperately, and he either didn't much care for your comfort or he saw the way your cunt was throbbing and weeping, begging to be stuffed, because he didn’t bother suggesting you move to a more comfortable spot. Instead he fought a smirk and cocked his head.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Lining himself up with your needy hole, he rubbed against you a little, feeling the tip of his cock catch on your opening. His hands then took your hips and he pulled you onto him instead of pushing himself into you.

He stretched you open nice and slowly, pulling silent moans from you as your lips fell open and your head tilted back. He wasn’t too thick that it hurt— or maybe he had just prepared you really well, which of course he did. He definitely wasn’t thin either though. The more he slid inside you, the more full you felt, like he was morphing your insides to the exact shape of him.

Your elbows, which were propping you up on the counter were sore and red and your tailbone could have been better, but that was all a problem for later. Right now, Leon was reaching balls deep inside you and his needy, shy expression as he held in his desperation to moan aloud, was far more enticing to pay attention to than any kind of pain your body was in.

Your legs wrapped around his waist, keeping him trapped deep inside you for the time being. You could feel him pulsing, feel him twitching. Though he could also definitely feel you pulsing and twitching too, as your walls gripped him and begged him not to leave. He didn’t look like he wanted to leave, not as he brought his lips to the curve of your collarbone and left featherlight kisses on your skin.

Slowly, he pulled out. And slowly, he pushed back in.

Though with each new thrust, he gained a little more speed and force. Each clap of skin against skin became louder and quicker in succession. Like a round of applause slowly ramping up after a moving performance. He soon found his preferred pace and stuck with it, needing to pull back from your collarbone so he could get a good look at your face to make sure you were enjoying yourself.

Your eyes were mostly black, no colour in them as your pupils had blown wide in lust. You always thought that you’d be more excited watching what was going on, getting to look down and watch as Leon impales you on his cock, or watch the way the muscles in his arms contract and shift as he grips you and guides your hips. However, you couldn’t take your eyes off of his. And he seemed to have the same problem.

Locked in a stare, you could see every emotion he was feeling, as he could see every emotion you were feeling. You could see how his eyebrows crinkled slightly, how his lips refused to touch as little moans and whimpers escaped him. But you could also see how he looked at you, how you knew he never ever wanted to hurt you. How he was scared to lose you.

His eyes had never been so expressive.

You lifted yourself up enough to shake your arms out a little, having lost feeling in them since resting on them. But the moment they came down on Leon’s shoulders, he was all you could feel. And thankfully, he seemed to read your mind as his hands scooped you off of the counter and held you against his body. You could feel more of him, get more contact this way. You could feel his warmth and smell his musk. He could hold you like this.

However, he was a few steps ahead of you. Holding you snuggly so as not to hurt you as he lowered you down onto the kitchen floor, he hoisted one of your legs up, high up so that when he slid back into you, you’d feel every inch, every vein, every twitch and muscle spasm.

You cried out, arching your back both from the feeling of him massaging your insides and the cool tiles of the kitchen floor pressing against your skin. You gripped at his back and shoulders desperately while he panted and whimpered into your neck. You could tell he was clenching his jaw when you heard him moan softly. Knowing your body made him feel so good made you feel even better.

“I’m so close, Leon. Don’t stop,” you whisper to him and he makes sure to keep doing exactly what he’s doing. He massages your insides and the tip of his cock continues to brush against your g-spot, and not that you need any added pleasure to help you reach the finish line, but his pelvis rubbing against yours and just barely creating friction for your clit makes it all the better.

“Yes, Ma’am,” he grunts back, his hands in your hair, gripping and caressing your locks. He doesn’t warn you when he’s about to cum but the surprise is what sends you over the edge.

He moans quietly but that only makes him sound more delicious as his hips stutter and his balls tighten. You feel each pump of his cock as thick ropes of cum paint your insides, leaving you feeling even more full and warm than before, which you didn’t know was even possible. He doesn’t stop moving though, knowing he came before you did, he doesn’t give up. But you’re cumming right there a second after him anyway.

You held your breath as electricity spread throughout your body. Your thighs tense and stiff as they twitched and shook, your backside clenched, your lips parted wide as you moaned loudly. You couldn’t see anything but white light as Leon continued thrusting slowly, rocking his hips against yours. He was watching your expressions closely, listening to the beautiful sounds you made. He wanted to see you like this again and again and again.

Your eyes closed and you let out a shaky breath finally, getting your breathing back to normal as the energy in your body slowly fizzled out. The pleasure felt like it lasted hours before it finally began to lessen, leaving you a puddle on your kitchen floor as Leon held you in his arms. The ground was cold and unpleasant but you wanted to stay here forever. With Leon.

“Oh my god…” you breathed out, reopening your eyes to look up at the man who just turned you into putty.

“Not God. That was all me,” Leon quipped lamely with a wink, which, to your annoyance, had you smiling widely and chuckling at his dumb joke. He wasn’t usually cocky and full of himself like that, but hearing him say something so corny made you somehow fall for him even more. Or maybe you were just biased after that amazing orgasm.

You rolled your eyes and playfully swatted his upper arm, to which he smiled back at you, clearly proud of himself as he rolled off of you and slipped out of you. You sighed at the feeling of being empty now and brought your knees together, feeling your mixed climaxes oozing out of you and down your backside where it inevitably dirtied the kitchen floor. Leon rolled over onto the floor beside you, his hand finding yours and softly intertwining your fingers together.

“Haven’t done that in a long while,” he breathed out as you both looked up at the ceiling. “Glad it was with you.”

Your heart fluttered at his words but you also felt a pit growing in your stomach. Was this just a casual one time thing for him? Were you just the closest person around for him to stick his dick in?

No. You saw the look in his eyes while he was with you. That was more than just casual sex that he could have had with anyone. He wanted it to be you, and you wanted it to be him. You weren’t sure if you believed in fate but this felt like it needed to happen. Not one moment felt like a mistake.

Was this love?

Love is complicated and messy but also beautiful, warm and safe. And you never felt safer than when Leon was by your side. Leon himself was complicated and messy, you knew it would be a long twisted road to get to your destination with him. There were no detours, no straight roads to where you wanted to go, but you were okay with that. It made the end goal more rewarding.

What was the end goal though? Getting married? Having kids? Sharing a house together? Apparently you weren’t even sure about the destination. But that didn’t matter.

“Will you stay?” You asked softly, staring at the ceiling, holding your breath as you waited for his reply. This would determine everything, wouldn’t it?

“If that’s what you want.” Leon nodded, turning his gaze to your face, he admired you for a brief moment before you turned to look at him as well. You brought your interlocked hands to your chest, pressing the back of his palm against where your heart would be.

“Are you dumb? Of course I want you to stay.” You frowned softly and squeezed his hand desperately, as if you were determined to never let him go. Like concrete welding you together forever.

He remained facing you but his eyes lowered to your intertwined hands, watching while he felt your heart beating against the back of his hand. How fast, how strong, how scared it was.

“I don’t want to make any promises that I can’t keep. My job, it will always be an issue. No matter what kind of relationship you want to have with me… But I will try. I’ll try my best to be here for you.” He was determined. And that was all you could ask for.

“For us,” you smiled softly, rolling onto your side to get closer to him. Your lips found his and you kissed as the sun set. Hours ticked by spent in each other's embrace, holding one another, sharing the same space, loving each other.

Love is messy and complicated. But the little moments like these make it all worth it.

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fanaticmorelikefantastic · 5 months ago

Text

Talk too much: Leon fic Part 4

DUDE I FINALLY NAMED THIS STUPID THING YIPPEE :D

Masterlist

Previous chapter ..................................................................................................................... Synopsis: Leon's backk :DD also r is the worst cook in the history of ever, maybe even bordering on the red bull eggs. Leon doesn't care because it's the first meal he's had in a week. He's so nice, we don't deserve him. How did this synopsis dissolve so much :/

Tags: kinda angst, leon/female reader, female reader, reader is a mess, she's just like me fr, kinda hurt if you squint, mostly comfort, leon is compared to a marshmallow, warm fuzzies, everything hurts, :)

I probably looked like a fish with how my mouth was gaped open. I jumped up off of the couch, making a beeline to the bathroom so I would at least look presentable when he arrived.

“408.” I absolutely slammed my toe into some wall somewhere. “SH- ow, ow, I- um, take your time, I’m not quite ready for guests yet.” I started trying to wash my face right before he hung up. My clothes were fine, acceptable in the context of his visit at least. Instead I worked on my hair. It was an absolute bird’s nest, so I did my best to detangle and smooth it out before I heard knocking on my door. I scampered across the floor to the foyer. It’s him. It has to be. I open the door, and am met face-to-face with-

“Hello, I’m with spectrum mobile and we-” I looked at the college age boy standing at my door, somewhat disoriented and probably with a stupid expression on my face. The whiplash from who I expected to be at the door and who actually was almost hurt physically. Poor sod looked like he had been cussed up, down, and sideways by the other houses he’d been through. I tuned out the fine print of his chatter by wondering where Leon is. Maybe he wasn’t in the apartment building yet. It sounded like he was inside a building though. It could’ve been his own home. He only just got back after all. Whatever this is in front of me needs to wash his hair when he gets off shift, it’s terribly oily. That was unwarranted, I’m sorry. It was about the time of his spiel where he asks if I’m interested, and right before I could answer I hear a familiar voice from just out of my vision.

“Oh.” There he is. Leon stood a little behind and to the side of the salesperson (the little lad looked very confused and a little embarrassed), one hand on his hip, the other one hanging loose and wrapped in medical gauze. It probably hurts. He looks exhausted, skin pale and clammy like a dead lizard. Even so, he (apparently) still had plenty of jokes up his sleeves.

“You should’ve told me if you already had plans.” Very funny. I chuckled despite myself, too enamored in the thought of him being back. I’m clumsily handed a brochure before our little friend scurries away, probably drafting his mental two weeks notice. I stepped out of the doorway to let this exhausted drowned corpse of a man inside. After I close the door, we both just kinda stand in the foyer, looking at one another. He’s got a couple light bruises on his face (two maybe), a gnarly purple one on his neck that peeked out from behind his jacket’s collar, and something along the lines of a paper cut on his jaw. I think about the bruises I can’t see for a second, but not before Leon laughs, a stupid little scoff like he knows everything. I return it along with a cocked eyebrow. I don’t know how he seems both completely unaffected and absolutely enervated at the same time. Truly a man of mystery.

“What’s so funny?” I show him where to put his shoes and start to follow-lead him into the living room.

“You actually listen to those stupid sales pitches?” I didn’t even register how I helped him onto the couch, carefully holding the back of his shoulder as he sat.

“I felt bad for him, he’s probably been getting yelled at all day by his boss and his clients. Least I could do was listen.” I stand and watch him get comfortable. He tries to pout at me, but he’s terribly bad at it.

“Look at me, I’m all covered in bruises, don’t you feel bad for me?” It makes me laugh, just a little. I fold my arms and lean down so we’re a little closer.

“Should I?” Even if I shouldn't, I do, just a little bit. Well, I’m not sure if I do or not; all I know is that droopy and bitter feeling that makes me want to curl him into a ball, wrap him up in a blanket, and hold him close to my heart. My heart. My heart is curling itself into a ball, twisting to match the shape of whatever wound I notice next. His expression relaxed into a small and relieved smile that made my stomach feel like a dissipating cloud.

“No. I won, after all.” That’s a nice way to put it. I gently rub his cheek with my right thumb. It disorients him, makes him look at me like a starving puppy would at the person who saved it from the streets, or more like a Victorian orphan child being given a loaf of bread. I want a loaf of bread.

“Then I won’t.” I do. “You look terrible. Have you had any sleep?” He laughs and rolls his eyes, turning sideways to lay out on the length of the couch.

“I was kinda hoping to do that right here if you don’t mind.” Leon interlocks his fingers behind his head, protecting it from the arm of the couch.

“I don’t. Snooze all you want, sleeping beauty.” I try to match his way of speaking to make him feel more comfortable while I take some pillows from the other end of the couch and arrange them under his neck and head. He doesn’t put up even half of a fuss when I unfold his hands and place them at his sides, allowing me to hold his arms and lightly pat each one when they're in position.

“Perfect.” He mumbled, shrugging off his jacket to use as a blanket. His eyes are closed, but I assume he must be a light sleeper, with his job and all, so I suck in my presence as best as I can and tiptoe away. I’m not sure what to do. There’s a mysterious man with a mysterious life and a mysterious job just here, lying on my couch, fast (I think) asleep. I wait until I’m sure he’s asleep before looking through my pantry and fridge for anything I could make easily. In the fridge there was- um a half rotten tomato and… cheese. That’s okay, if I have anything in the pantry that could- nope, not even bread. Should’ve gone to the grocery store. If I didn’t know any better, I would have let out a grievous sigh, but I kept it in. I checked to see if he was still asleep. Could I run to the store real quick before he woke up? I don’t have enough money for take out right now (I should’ve cut back on those stupid cafe visits). I didn’t really have any other choice, so I quickly wrote up a sticky note and placed it very carefully on the coffee table, ensuring it was in a spot where he sees it once he wakes up. I put on some sneakers and snuck out to the best of my ability. Either Leon is dead tired, or he’s just pretending not to notice me, because there’s no way he didn’t hear that. Whichever it may be, I hurry to the closest grocery-ish store to grab something that I could cook with what’s in the fridge. Pasta was on sale, so I grabbed a box of that (rigatoni, apparently) and some half and half. Speaking of half, half of that tomato is still ripe, right? I decided to get some new grape ones for this dish I’m making. I’d feel bad feeding him a half rotten tomato, even if half of it isn’t. We’ve seasonings at home, so I didn’t need to buy any, but I did get some cookies for dessert (I just couldn’t help myself). I rocked on my feet as the lethargic cashier scanned my items and handed me my receipt and thanked me for shopping and watched me practically bolt out of that store. I made it back home and quietly opened the door, closing it silently behind me. I look over to the couch. Thank God, he’s still-

“And just where have you been, young lady?” I almost jump out of my skin when he says it, still laying in that same position on the couch where I left him. I come into his eye view and lift up my bag.

“Groceries. Thought you’d be hungry, and my fridge is pretty barren.” I hope he is. Well, even if he isn’t, I would be at some point.

“Wow, I get home cooked food on the second date? You’re too kind.” Does this count as a date? He just kind of showed up. When Leon sits up on the sofa, he sets his jacket to the side and I actually see his arms for the first time today. Yikes. He’s got several bruises of varying degree, coupled by cuts from what I could reasonably guess were branches and patched up lacerations from what I knew were not. I notice some purpling peeking out from under his sleeve. I assume it connects to the bruise on his neck. Did he get slammed into a wall of bricks or something? The council decided to ignore it for now, and I make my way to the kitchen to throw what I have into the oven.

“It’s not really cooking, I’m just grabbing stuff and throwing it in the oven.” I do just that, dumping some cheese (both cream and regular), water, tomatoes, milk I think, and whatever else that stupid recipe said. Where did I even find that thing? It tastes good, so it doesn’t really matter, but still. I ponder that while I mindlessly throw it in the oven and remember that I bought cookies.

“Are you sure you can just put raw pasta into the oven like that?” I almost jumped out of my skin (again), what the hell. Leon is loitering in my kitchen now, standing beside me and looking into the oven like he’s been here his whole life. It kind of makes me shift, not because of anything bad, he’s just really close. I don’t think he notices. I don’t know why I notice. I look at his glossy pearl eyes and I don’t think he knows anything. I don’t know anything either. He’s so pretty, but I don’t think I can tell him. Would he get mad at me if I did?

“Yea, I’ve done it before. It’s less steps, and I’m all for efficiency.” After closing up the oven and putting away the extras, I decided that it wouldn't hurt to have a cookie or two before dinner is served. Leon also decided that it’s his legal right to rest his head on my shoulder. He hovered for a second as if to make sure it was okay. I don’t mind. I don’t mind at all.

“Maybe I should try it sometime.” The murmuring of his vocal chords tickled me. Cute. I think I think he’s cute. He is so I feed him a cookie, carefully pushing it behind his teeth in case he bit his tongue or something while doing- whatever he was up to. He had no qualms and ate it. The crunching was very loud right next to my ear, but that’s okay. We both sit on the couch, side by side in a sort of pleasant silence (well, pleasant for me. I don’t know if he thinks it’s awkward or uncomfortable, so I shouldn’t take the liberty of declaring it comfortable for the both of us). I turn and look at him, at how he tenses his jaw and pretends not to notice, at that big purple bruise which I am now absolutely certain covers the whole of his left shoulder, at that leg that he’s been favoring ever since he came here. I wonder if he got hurt there too. My eyes wander back up to his face, his eyes, which are now tentatively looking at me. He has such long eyelashes.

“I’m glad you’re okay.” I say. He lets out this shaky sigh in response, closing his eyes for a moment before pulling me into a warm embrace. I smile and pat his back as gently as I can.

“Me too. I’m glad I got to see you again.” His voice is a low rumble in his chest. It feels so gentle and comforting (which distracted me from the fact that I could barely make out what he was saying). I hope that I could make him feel the same way I do right now, warm, comfortable, safe, and a little sleepy. I close my eyes, not wanting to leave his arms. The warmth of his chest, the sound of his heartbeat, and the soft rise and fall from his breathing all make me feel like I’m sinking into the center of a toasted marshmallow. I could feel my consciousness starting to drift away, but then he pulled back, or more pushed me back. Some mix of the two happens and he’s holding me by my shoulders, staring straight into my eyes. Everything about him feels so warm and soft that I just kind of melt in his hands, an unconscious smile on my face. Speaking of faces, his is quite close right now. I try not to think about it.

“How have you been?” I thought he’d never ask.

I could swear that time slowed while we talked (yapped, really) to each other sitting on the couch. I told him about my painting. It’s going well. He tells me about the government operated hospital, since he can’t speak much on anything else. It sucked, apparently. I ask him if he had enough sleep; he avoids the question. I don’t think about how he covers up his chapped lips by discreetly licking them right before he speaks. I also don’t think about his loopy smile he gives me sometimes. I do think about how he’s a dog person and how he compliments my couch. Says it ‘sleeps like a dream’. I agree, that’s why I bought it after all. He laughs (there it is again, and just like the smell of the earth after rain I drink it up like a fool). We only took a break when the smell of food forced me out of my spot to set the table. I didn’t help him up this time. I forgot and was swiftly fed a healthy dose of nibbling guilt as I saw him pull himself up at less than half my speed. I kind of clenched the plate I was holding until he finished standing. Standing. Standing next to me while I stir up the pasta. Standing near the table while I place the plates (with food on them this time) down. Sitting and watching me sit on the other side of the table.

“ So, do you cook often?” Leon picks up some pasta and a bit of a tomato chunk to eat. I watch his face for his thoughts. He raised his eyebrows slightly, so I took the liberty of taking that as good news.

“I could hardly call this cooking, but yeah I guess I do.” I take my own bite, pleasantly surprised by the fruits of my (not) labor. Quickly, I take a second.

“Wow, this is actually decent.”

Leon chuckles (or chortles, what do you call that weird throat laugh thing) a little and points his fork at me.

“Why are you surprised? Maybe I shouldn’t have taken the first bite, what if it turned out inedible?” I’d cry that’s what.

“Pish posh.” I pick at my food a little, trying not to eat too fast and seem like I’m starving (I am). He’s just kind of looking at me from the other side of the table. Kinda really looking at me. His glossy blue eyes are a little too shiny. I hope he’s okay.

“How long do you plan on staying?” It’s not as though I want him to leave soon, but the thought crossed my mind and slipped out my mouth. He makes this bitter expression as though I’ve reminded him of something unpleasant.

“I don’t know. I can’t choose how long it is until I’m sent out again, but I think they’ll give me at least two days.” Huh? I stared at his face. I think there’s some sort of dissonance here.

“I meant at the house. I mean, are you staying o- Like, how long before you go home?” We both blinked at each other for a moment, two moments, before allowing ourselves a light chuckle. He’s always laughing, I feel. I want to do that too; always find something to laugh about. He slides his hand through his hair and its luster imparts upon me a conundrum no mathematician could ever solve. Seriously, how is it so healthy?

“I’ll stay as long as you’ll let me.”

“So, forever?” I didn’t mean to say that. I did mean to think it, but it wasn’t supposed to escape my mind. I’m very loose lipped today, and I hope that doesn’t cause any fatal accidents. I blame his hair for being too shiny. Leon looks surprised and intrigued and amused and everything all at once. I’m not sure, he’s making a weird face at me and I can’t figure out what it means, but it’s causing me to feel warm little puffing tingles on my neck.

“Really? Well, thanks for having me.” I hate how smooth every word he says is; everything he says is sweet like agave. It’s not fair that he gets to be funny, and cute, and cool, and suave, and pretty, and strong all at the same time. He makes me feel like I just got hit in the face with a pillow, yet there he is, acting as though nothing happened. It makes my cheeks burn, so I bury the fire in my hands.

#writing #leon x reader #leon resident evil #leon s kennedy #re4r #re2r #talk too much fic #lalalalalal #I love leon #leon/reader #weewoo #chapter 4

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