#can be leon x reader x luis if you squint

[zer0pm]

Imagine Luis using a jacket to protect you both from the rain.

“I’m back! Did you miss me?”

Your head snaps up at the sound of his voice and you rush over to his approaching form with haste. Luis spreads his arms wide, ready to accept your warm embrace with sincere enthusiasm. What he got knocked the air out of him. Literally- his breath escapes him as your fist connects with his gut.

“Mierda… that’s a good one…” he groans, hunching over in pain.

“You asshole!” you scold him, ignoring his snark. “I thought you were dead! I saw Mendez dragging you away!”

“C’mon, my friend. Have a little faith,” Luis huffs, his signature grin returning to his face once he recovered to a standing position. “So long as they know I’m the one who hid The Amber, I’m untouchable.”

You had an unamused expression on your face, reaching up to poke at the evident bruise swelling on his forehead. The man winces under your touch but does not move away, a slightly guilty smile on his lips.

He shrugs, “Yes, well- uh, mostly untouchable.”

Although you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at the Spaniard’s breathtaking talent for witty remarks in dangerous situations, you were mostly relieved that he was okay. The feeling of water droplets pouring on your head brings you back to awareness of where you both were standing. Lowering your hand from Luis’ head, you latch onto his wrist.

“We should get out of the rain. Hide it out somewhere safe until we figure out our next move.”

Luis nods in agreement, “An excellent idea. Oh, un momento-”. Taking advantage of your grip, he effortlessly pulls you closer to his side. The weather was damp and the air was chilly, but Luis’ breath upon your cheek warms you.

The sudden closeness throws you off guard and you were about to question his actions until a distinctive shadow looms over you both, blocking out the downpour. You glance up to see Luis’ hands holding some sort thick faux fur lined with leather over your heads.

“Stay close,” he advises, each word fanning down the skin of your neck and cheek. “I don’t plan on separating from you again.”

Against the chilly wind and rain, your temperature grew hot, both from the dark-haired man’s close proximity to you as well as his words that made you shudder with heat. He thought you were shivering and inched himself closer against your side. You had no choice then but to wrap your arms around him to stay under the protection of the-

Huh?

Now that you were looking at it, Luis was using a jacket. A jacket that was most definitely not his. The fine brown leather and fur lining was a tell that it most likely did not belong to any of the locals either. The style was too modern. So where did this come from?

“Luis,” you began to ask, “what is- whose jacket is this?”

You hear him chuckle under his breath, the sound coming off like he was revisiting a funny memory. When you glance at his from your peripheral vision, you spot a glint of intrigue in his reminiscent eyes, matching the lopsided smirk characteristic to his sly demeanor.

For a good minute, he doesn’t answer you. When he finally does, there was no mistaking the amusement laced in his voice. “My new friend. Sancho Panza.”

That’s all he said. Of course, you follow-up with more questions, but Luis was a master at evading inquiries with vague responses. The only information you were able to gather was that this new friend came to the village looking for someone but your companion purposefully leaves out the details of how they met as well as how they separated. Eventually, you two come across an abandoned house and that was when you dropped the subject for time being.

Once inside, you moved to detach yourself from Luis, but he stops you. Maneuvering his arms in an almost elegantly dramatic fashion, he drapes the jacket over your shoulders. At his insistence, he helps you slip your arms through the sleeves. Thanks to your shared body heat, the inside was pleasantly warm, a welcome relief against the drafty chill in the air. The dark-haired man then tugs at the fur collar, securing the jacket on your frame, pulling you closer in the process.

At the sight of the blooming blush on your cheeks, the suave man winks at you before stepping away wordlessly. You had to stop yourself from leaning in after him, but your slight tilt did not go unnoticed. His smirk widens.

After the two of you secured the area, you settled down in the first floor and indulged in the brief respite. Luis’ capture threw a wrench in your shared plan to escape, but Luis, ever the optimist, assured you that you were still on course. As you hashed over the details on how to recover The Amber and meet up with Luis’ informant for safe passage, gunshots and screams were heard from the distance.

You rise up from your seat in alarm and look out the window to see two blonds, a man and a woman heading your way, both ardently being chased by a mob of infected villagers. “Luis, look! Survivors. We have to help them.”

Your companion leans his head over your shoulder to follow your line of sight. Against your ear, you hear him curse softly in his native tongue.

“You were bound for an introduction, I suppose.” he scoffs. You didn’t get a chance to ask him what he meant as he left your side to rush over to the door. He pries the wood open and waves at the running pair to come inside. Not long after they were ushered in the house and you and Luis barricaded the door, the blond man takes note of your companion’s presence.

“You,” the man glares, disdain dripping in his firm tone. He stomps towards Luis, the latter backing up with each approaching step.

“Hey,” Luis greets nervously, playing up his sly charm you oft see him use to get himself out of trouble that he’s landed himself in. “Listen, about earlier-”

The angry blond pins the Spaniard against the far wall with a strong fist, “Yeah, about that.”

Curiosity got the better of you, “Luis, who is this?”

Your voice rips the blond man’s attention away from Luis, redirecting it now towards you. His cold eyes scan over your face with analytical wariness until they relented to something akin to genuine surprise upon noticing the article of clothing on your person. His expression filled in the details that Luis purposefully omitted behind the story of the jacket. The gears in your head clicked into place. It was your turn to throw an accusatory glare at the Spaniard.

“Did you-” you started before sighing, pinching the bridge of your nose. You approached the two men, an apology on the tip of your tongue as you shifted to remove the jacket and give it back to the stranger as a show of good will, but Luis’ voice stops you in motion.

“No hagas eso. Keep it on, it looks good on you.” The Spaniard interjects, grinning playfully at you. His grey eyes then glance back at the blond expectantly who still had his uncertain gaze on you. “Our new friend thinks so too. Eh, Sancho?”