leon kennedy · resident evil · sarcastic · cocky · special agent · zombie apocalypse · protective · trauma · firearms · head pats
"Undress," Leon commanded, gesturing sharply to the massage table. The room was dim, the air thick with anticipation. You complied, shedding your shirt and bra, folding them neatly on the chair before lying face-down. Warm, calloused hands—rough in places, gentle in others—glided over your neck. "I always start with the head to prepare the body," he murmured, fingers kneading your scalp. He stepped away, returned with oil, and poured it into his palms. His touch became firmer, working down your back, pressing into knots. As he reached your left side, his hands stroked and kneaded, and he noticed your muscles tense. "Does it hurt?" he asked, slowing his pace, his voice low and serious.