re4! leon kennedy x dso! reader
summary: when you get a job at a top government agency, you reunite with a man you never thought you'd see again
tags/warnings: eventual smut, unprotected sex, no use of y/n
a/n: my first re fic and my longest fic yet! i hope you enjoy :p
at twenty-five years old, you have your bachelors in journalism (minoring in biology), and your masters in journalism as well, both from northwestern university (chicago born and raised!). you also have extensive firearm and self defense training, something you decided to pick up because nothing else sounded interesting enough. while all your friends picked up pottery, or pilates, you decided to do something a little more… niche. this is what led you to your chosen career path.
you networked a lot in college, and met a lot of important people. one of these people was able to get a good word in for you at the division of security operations, and that is how you landed your first job post-grad that wasn’t cashiering or waiting tables.
from there, you packed up your things and moved into a small apartment in washington d.c.. a job like this, one would think, would be incredibly hard to get, especially since you work directly under the president of the united states, but for you, it was actually quite simple.
the president asked the american people what they wanted to see. the response? they wanted to know more about bioterrorism. bioterrorism was a massive issue, not only in the united states, but all around the world, and yet, the average american knew virtually nothing about it.
the chief of the dso decided that in order to gain the trust of the american people, something that was incredibly difficult after the events of raccoon city, he would hire someone that could capture the real, raw, and terrifying things that its members go through on a daily basis. one of your favorite professors at northwestern is a former cabinet member, and still kept in touch with a lot of government employees, so he referred you straight to the white house. i mean, your skills made you a perfect match. your studies in journalism, and your portfolio from working at your school’s newspaper, your brief studies on biology, where you learned about various viruses, and your self defense skills meant there was almost nobody else that was as qualified as you were.
fast forward to today, it’s your fourth night in your new apartment, and the night before your new job at the division of security operations. nervous was an understatement. you paced around your living room, freaking out about how your first day would go. you were the first of your kind. there was nobody else at the agency, or any federal agency, that had a job quite like yours. you worried about if you would get along with your coworkers, if they were tough and strict, as the job would require, or if they were more laid back. you were also worried about the job itself, you had some experience reporting, but self defense? essentially none. you believed you were trained for the situations they would put you in, but that was just in theory. what if your first mission was something totally insane and life threatening? would you be able to handle it?
you like to think of yourself as an independent, confident person, but this move has been more difficult on you than you thought it would be. hopefully that changes once you start your new job and get the hang of everything. i mean, you’re a rookie, they’re not gonna send you somewhere insane for a little bit.
you get tired of pacing, and look at the time to see that it reads 9:00 pm. you decide it's probably time to go to bed, even though you doubt your nerves will let you sleep at all. you talked to your family and friends earlier, and they all wished you luck from back home, but you wished that they were with you in d.c.. after doing your extensive nighttime routine, you get into bed, turn your white noise on, and close your eyes.
some time, and some tossing and turning later, your alarm goes off and its 6:00 am. you’ve never been one to take a long time getting ready in the morning, so after a quick shower, outfit change, and breakfast, you’re out the door at 6:30. you don’t live too far from the pentagon, but after a short and silent drive, you get there about 15 minutes before you’re supposed to, just in case anything goes wrong.
parking is easy thanks to the permit they sent you in the mail, and after an annoyingly long security process, you find yourself inside the largest office building in the united states. a few ‘where do i go’s’ later and you’re at the door you need to be at, and you’re five minutes early. once you open it, there’s no going back. you take a deep breath, your last moment of silence before what could be the rest of your life, given that you like your job, and they like you.
you sigh, “here goes nothing,” you whisper to yourself, before scanning your brand new identification badge and entering the bioterrorism wing of the pentagon. you hear a quiet beep before gently pushing the door open, your warm palm shaking against the cold metal door.
you are greeted by various sounds, chatting, typing, and papers printing. so. many. footsteps. you didn’t realize how many people actually worked to fight against bioterrorism. so many people, and yet, the american people knew nothing about this? that’s why you were here, you suppose. in front of you were an inordinate amount of cubicles, and offices lined the sides of the incredibly large room. you wonder if you’re gonna get your own office, or if you’ll have to share a space with others.
you don’t realize how long you’ve been standing at the door until a man comes up to you. he is dressed incredibly well, wearing a suit tailored exactly to his frame. he’s not super old, maybe 40s, but by the look in his eyes, he’s definitely seen some things.
“chief matthews,” he says to you, extending his hand to you. you take his hand, and shake it gently. “you must be our new recruit.”
“in the flesh,” you respond, forcing a smile. it’s not that you’re not excited, you’re just so nervous that it’s showing up on your face. “nice to meet you.”
“nice to meet you too, agent. there’s no time to waste, let me show you around.”
you smile once again as he turns around and gestures to all the cubicles in front of the two of you.
“this is where all the paperwork happens. reports are filed and stored safely into folders for easy access. it sounds mindless and boring, but this agency wouldn’t run without these guys.”
he begins slowly walking through the cubicles. you follow directly behind him.
“as you’ll notice, there's plenty of offices. me and you, we work for the dso, but because the work we do goes hand in hand with that of the bsaa, everything is almost just mixed into one big agency.”
he lowers his voice, “don’t tell any of the bsaa agents though, they like to be in their own little world.”
just as he says that, a tall and incredibly large man comes out of a nearby office, speedwalking.
“speaking of the devil,” chief matthews exclaims, “here comes a bsaa agent now!”
the tall man is about to walk by the two of you when he stops dead in his tracks, “me?” he asks?
“yes you,” responds matthews. he looks at you, “chris redfield, a top bsaa agent.”
chris raises his eyebrows, “no shit!”
you look at him, “nice to meet you.”
he nods, “you too. gotta go.” he walks away very quickly as the two of you just watch.
“agents tend to get very busy around here, something you will learn quite fast.”
you laugh nervously, “how busy?”
matthews bursts into laughter, “that is hilarious! how busy? well you’ll just have to see, my friend.”
you laugh with him, internally panicking. he finally catches his breath as he continues giving you an incredibly detailed tour of the wing. from the cubicles to the offices to the break room, you might actually be able to get around without asking for help. the last stop of the tour is a small office with your name written on the door and the words ‘chief journalist’ written underneath it.
“well, this is your new home!” matthews says with more enthusiasm than you would prefer.
you step up to the door and inspect the plaque with your name and title on it, “chief?” you ask him.
“of course you’re the chief! who else would be?”
“i- i don’t know actually.”
“exactly. you’re the first of its kind. you are actually making history, i hope you realize that.”
a small smile forms at the corner of your mouth, “i never actually thought about it that way.”
“well you better,” he says, “you’re about to be famous.”
the small smile immediately disappears. famous? obviously you’d be famous. you’re the first ever chief journalist at a government that people have been begging for information from since bioweapons were invented. your findings are going to be read and/or watched by people not only in the united states, but all over the world. you might even become a household name soon. good god.
“you okay?” matthews asks, noticing that you’ve zoned out.
“perfect, yeah.” you say, quickly to avoid suspicion.
“great, well how about you get settled in your office, and i’ll-” he is cut off by his phone ringing. he furrows his eyebrows, and takes his phone out of his pocket, “excuse me,” he says before answering and stepping away.
while he’s on the phone, you open up your office and look around. it’s not the biggest, but it’s big enough. with enough string lights you could make it the perfect atmosphere for writing about your gruesome findings. how aesthetic.
“what?!” you turn around to see a frantic chief matthews. you furrow your eyebrows and take a few steps forward. “that can’t be right, are you sure?”
all you can do is watch him as he paces back and forth on the phone until he hangs up. once he hangs up, he looks at you, eyes nearly popping out of his head, “come with me,” he says, all the enthusiasm previously there now gone.
you drop your belongings onto your desk and follow him as he hurriedly makes his way through the wing.
“is everything okay?” you ask.
“the president’s daughter was kidnapped.”
“the president’s daughter was kidnapped and is believed to be in a remote village in spain.”
“oh my god.” you have a million questions, but you decide not to ask them, because you don’t want to push. the two of you stay silent until matthews reaches a room that you had just seen on your tour, the conference room.
he quickly swings the door open to reveal various agents (dso, bsaa, and fbi) and bioweapon researchers sitting around a giant rectangular table with the president himself at the head of the table. you’re a bit starstruck, but obviously, you keep that to yourself.
the president’s eyebrows furrow when he sees you, “where’s kennedy?”
“he’s on his way, mr. president. and this is our new recruit, the journalist,” matthews answers for you.
“nice to meet you agent, it’s unfortunate that it is under these circumstances.”
you nod, “nice to meet you too, mr. president.”
“alright everyone, we can’t wait for kennedy, have a seat.”
he spends the next twenty minutes talking about how his daughter, ashley graham, was marked absent from her classes at the university of massachusetts, and that it prompted concern from her professors, as she had never missed a day of school before. reports of secret service on campus were also made, which was unusual as there were no secret service agents sent by the president. these secret service imposters were said to have abducted ashley, and her whereabouts were unknown until american intelligence operatives tracked her location down to a region of spain known as valedobos.
the president looks at you, as you jot everything he just said in a small notepad that you carry around with you everywhere.
“you got all that?” he asks.
“good, because this is your first mission.”
your eyes go wide, “wha-”
“you and another agent are going to be sent to spain, as soon as tonight hopefully, and you will be tasked with the mission of bringing my daughter back to the united states.”
you begin to sweat. this is your first mission? “mr. president if i could just-”
“your job is to document everything. audio, video, written reports, you will document everything you see and bring it all back here, along with my daughter, safely,, so that the american people can see what bioterrorism is really like.
suddenly, the door to the conference room swings open. you are too busy suppressing a panic attack to turn around and look at who just showed up.
the president stands up, “look who finally decided to show up.”
“i am so sorry, i read the briefing on the way here. i’m all caught up,” the unknown voice says behind you.
chief matthews looks at you, “hey, you alright?”
you nod vigorously, “yep. i’m great.”
“good, because i’d like you to meet your new partner.” he stands up, prompting you to do so as well. you begin to turn around slowly when you hear, “this is agent leon kennedy.”
you pause. you know that name. “leon?” you say, finally turning around.
he looks at you with his piercing blue eyes like he’d just seen a ghost, “no fucking way,” he says, his voice deep.
matthews looks at the two of you back and forth, “you two know each other?”
you and leon look at each other, eyes wide and speechless.
“y-yeah, we do,” you finally say, breaking the silence.
“great,” the president says, “now go save my daughter. your flight to spain leaves in two hours.” he then walks out of the room, along with the rest of the agents who need to get back to their desks in preparation for the mission.
you and leon both grew up in the chicago area. you met him when you were an eighteen year old freshman in college, and he was a 20 year old attending the chicago police training academy. with your sudden interest in self defense, and his need to go above and beyond his peers at the academy, you both met at a training center in the city, where the two of you had gotten pretty close.
you would see each other multiple times a week for months, and despite not even getting each others phone numbers, you had considered each other to be friends, and made it a point to train together multiple times a week.
he had finished his police training, however, and told you that he was going to start working for the raccoon city police department. everything happened so fast, and after he had left, then came the events of raccoon city, and you had no way of contacting him, so you assumed the worst.
you couldn’t believe that he was standing in front of you, alive and well, and you especially couldn’t believe that he was your new partner. he looked like himself, but with a tougher exterior, like there was just something off about him. he also looked incredibly handsome, but that was the least important thing of this entire situation.
matthews looks at you, taking you out of your thoughts, “i know this is crazy. but this is your time to shine. you heard the guy, document everything, and… be careful.” he looks at leon, “both of you.”
you nod, staring into space, still in disbelief at everything that just happened in the last twenty minutes.
matthews begins heading towards the door before pausing and looking back at the two of you, “you’ll both get a message soon about the flight details, but in the meantime, go home and pack,” he says, before leaving the room.
you stare at the floor, anxiously. “i thought you died,” you say, before lifting your head up and looking at leon.
“i’m sorry,” he says, quietly, “i wanted to reach out. i tried. i contacted so many different people, but i just couldn’t find you. i even called the training center, but they had told me you left, and that your information was no longer in their system.”
“training with other people wasn’t fun.”
a small smile forms on leon’s face. he looks down, looking as though he is trying to gather his thoughts. “i can’t believe you’re the new recruit, i mean i should’ve known.”
“you ready for this mission?”
“i kinda have to be, don’t i?”
“you’re gonna do fine. trust me.” he looks at you, and that tough exterior you noticed before was already fading. “i’m glad you’re here.”
the door to your apartment slams shut as a dramatic sigh escapes your mouth. “fuck.”
you quickly pull your phone out of your pocket, going immediately to your contacts and calling your mom.
you hear a faint click on the other side of the line, “hello? did you get off early?”
“i’m going to spain.” your voice is quiet. you trail off.
you swallow, loud enough that the gulp is heard on the other end. there’s the answer.
“you’re gonna be safe, right?” your mom asks, her voice nearly breaking.
you’ve already worried her enough with the tone of your voice alone, so you clear your throat, ready to answer her with confidence, “yeah, of course i am.”
“good.” your mom answers, with less enthusiasm as you had hoped. “are you gonna call dad?”
“okay, well, i love you.”
with your phone screen back to your contacts list, you call your dad.
the hum of the small government issued jet that you were currently in sounded much louder in your head than it was in real life. granted, military jets operate at much higher speeds than commercial planes, and, therefore, are louder than them, but the sheer magnitude of your racing heartbeat was making it worse.
leon sat across from you, his tough exterior back. he looked out the window, even though there was nothing but clouds for miles. it was almost like he was a different person than the man you spoke to in the conference room several before. i guess it was necessary if he was to go out and kill zombies.
both you and leon were outfitted in tactical gear. he wore a leather bomber jacket, navy blue compression shirt, black tactical pants, and combat boots. you also wore black tactical pants and combat boots, but opted for a long sleeve black compression shirt, and a black softshell jacket over it.
next to leon was an abundance of weapons such as a handgun, shotgun, machine gun, and enough ammo to last a month. you also had a weapon, but only a handgun. it was made clear during the meeting that leon was going to do a majority of the combat on this mission, while you would stay behind and do your journalistic duties, such as record footage and take auditory notes that you could go back to later (it would be too time consuming to hand write notes on a mission like this). your handgun was to be used purely if necessary for self defense. you prayed that you wouldn’t have to use it at all.
a small hiccup of turbulence takes you out of your thoughts and back to this incredibly unique reality that you have been put in. for the second time since this plane took off you grab your equipment bag and set it on your lap. anything to distract you. you open it up, just as you did before, and take everything out one by one, just to make sure that you have everything.
yep, you’ve got everything. just like you had everything the first time you checked. leon turns to look at you, for the first time since taking off. he sees you inspecting everything you brought with you.
you nod vehemently, choosing not to respond. seeing him cool, calm, and collected is making your anxiety so much worse. how is he okay right now?
you know the answer to that, actually, because he’s probably done this a million times. you don’t know exactly what happened that day in raccoon city, but knowing he survived makes you wonder how many other things he's survived since then. you wouldn’t dare to ask what he went through that night, but there were many sleepless nights after the fact where you would hope he was okay.
“you still do that, huh?” leon’s voice cuts through the silence (if you ignore the sounds of the plane).
“do what?” he looks down at your knee, which is bouncing at a speed higher than that of the plane. you stop it. “oh. have i always done that?”
he nods, “there was one day at the training center where you had gone in on a day you didn’t usually train. i think it was because you thought you bombed a midterm and wanted to blow off steam. you did it then too.”
“oh my god you remember that day?”
he pauses, almost as if he’s said too much. “i do.” his voice gets quiet.
you laugh to yourself, well, you exhale through your nose, if that still counts as a laugh. you look back at leon, now making eye contact with him. “how’d you start working at the dso?” you ask, hoping you aren’t prying too much.
he sighs, not knowing where to start. “it was just after raccoon city. i was detained the next morning, october first, by the military. i guess they had seen something in me after surviving, and they encouraged me to become an agent.”
you wince at the mention of raccoon city, not knowing you would bring up the traumatic event. “encouraged?”
“define like.” you shrug, not knowing how to respond. he sighs, “i like helping people. i like trying to stop the spread of bioterrorism. i don’t like seeing it, though. the innocent people who’s lives are taken by a stupid fucking virus. it sucks.”
“i can’t imagine what that’s like.” you say, feeling bad that you might have put a damper on his mood.
“soon you won’t have to imagine, unfortunately.”
you huff, your shoulders dropping, “great.”
he softens. the same way he did in the conference room. “hey. we’re gonna be in and out of there. okay?”
he notices a slight voice crack from you, and decides to change the subject to stop you from freaking out even more. he’s always noticed these things, even when you two knew each other in the past. it’s hard to tell what he’s feeling most of the time, but it’s easy to tell when he cares about someone, even if he doesn’t want people knowing.
“how have you been?” he asks, sincerity in his voice.
a quiet laugh escapes you, “i’ve been good.”
“what’s so funny?” a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth.
“i know you’re trying to be normal right now, but this is so weird. like, looking at you, and speaking to you, it’s so weird.”
“i haven’t decided yet.” you tease.
he laughs, like actually laughs out loud. you’re taken aback. you reunited with leon not long ago, but you noticed a significant change in his personality. when you knew him before, he was really smiley, which is hard to believe given his current state. the two of you used to actually get distracted during training because you’d be doubled over in laughter over something that wasn’t even that funny. seeing him laugh now just felt out of the ordinary.
“so just good?” he pries.
“well, the move has been a lot. i miss my friends and family. i’m excited about the new job though. after we get home safely of course.”
“we will,” he interrupts.
“i am a little nervous about the aftermath though. y’know, after whatever i document gets published and the whole world knows my name. our names.”
“yeah, that’s gonna be a little odd. excited for people to know the truth though. especially since our government hasn’t been the most truthful when it comes to bioweapons.”
you nod, you hadn’t thought about that before. “good point.”
“you like the city so far?” he asks.
“truthfully,” you begin, “i haven’t seen too much of it. except for the grocery store near my apartment and the ikea.” you moved to dc not too long ago, and have had no time to do anything fun.
leon takes a deep breath, “i could… show you around if you’d like,” he says, almost nervously, an emotion you hadn’t seen from him yet.
you smile, “that’d be awesome. thank you, leon.”
“yeah, for sure.” he says that like he’s brushing it off, like it’s no big deal. it’s not a big deal, he is just being friendly, but for some reason his kind gesture means a lot more to you than he thinks. it’s here when you realize how much you actually missed him and your guys’ friendship. you were so afraid of being alone after moving to a new city, but it almost feels like you and leon are picking back up where you left off six years ago. maybe things aren’t so bad.
more turbulence rattles through the plane. the two of you look out the window and start seeing small bits of land. just a few more minutes until landing. your stomach begins twisting once again. “how long do you think it’s gonna take?”
“no more than a few hours,” he says. “given we don’t run into any problems.”
he clears his throat and sits up, “yeah. like bio organic weapons. y’know..?” his voice trails off and he sounds like he’s trying to change the subject.
“what do you mean, like zombies?”
he shakes his head, furrowing his eyebrows, “no. we’re definitely gonna run into zombies.”
you sit up now. “so what the fuck are bio organic weapons?”
“oh you know… they’re like these… genetically altered monsters that militaries use.”
“yeah. there’s all different kinds of b.o.w.’s. they didn’t teach you about this at the agency?”
your head falls to the side. you’re dumbfounded. “today’s my first day in case you forgot.”
“shit. sorry.” he shakes head. “we’ll be fine.”
you were fine. that was until running into a fucking bio organic weapon.
the mission had been going pretty well so far. it started with you and leon being dropped off near a remote spanish village by two police officers, and from there, the two of you set out to find ashley. you explored the village that you were near, and it was pretty peaceful until los illuminados cult members ambushed you and leon. he had it handled though, obviously. like your boss said, you were there to document. leon fought off the infected villagers while you took pictures and videos, and basically narrated what you were seeing into your audio recorder. it’s not to say it wasn’t a little freaky, though. you’d heard of people like this, but seeing it in real life was almost unreal. you trusted leon though so you weren’t panicked.
from there you explored this rural part of europe, going deeper into the village, crossing a lake, and finally finding ashley in a church. she was quiet, reasonably so. she was only twenty years old being kidnapped by a cult leader in spain. definitely an original experience.
you and leon also found out why she was taken in the first place. the leader of the los illuminados was a man named osmund saddler. he took ashley and planned to infect her and send her back to the united states, hoping she would infect others, and therefore the virus would spread throughout the entire country.
the problem with this was despite you and leon finding ashley, she was already infected by this point, and so was leon, as saddler expected him. so, instead of escaping, and going back to the drop off point, you and leon had to find out how to get rid of the virus before it progressed.
since ashley was infected before you and leon arrived to the church, the virus had already been progressing in ashley’s body, and she had already begun showing violence every now and then. she even somehow took leon’s knife off his person and tried to stab him with it, which was unsuccessful. it felt weird having to narrate all of this, but it was your job, and you wanted to fulfill your duty of informing the american people.
thanks to biologist and former employee of saddler luis serra, you knew exactly how to get rid of the virus. luis worked with saddler doing research on las plagas, unknowingly contributing to illegal human testing and bioweapon development. feeling remorseful for his actions, he wanted to help leon and ashley remove the virus from their bodies so he told the three of you how to get to an underground lab containing a machine that can remove the parasite. well, the three of you were currently in the lab, and a regenerador stood in front of you.
this thing was absolutely horrifying. at about seven and a half feet tall, all white, and a face straight out of a horror movie, you were genuinely afraid for your life. ashley hid in a nearby room with the door locked (which probably wouldn’t do anything to stop a regenerador), while leon and yourself had to take it down.
it didn’t move too fast, but you could tell it was strong. upon entering the room it was hanging out in and screaming at ashley to get out and find somewhere safe, leon began shooting at it with a submachine gun. you took out your handgun and started shooting at it too.
the shots slowed it down, but not enough. “leon, what do we do?!” you yelled, above the deafening sound of the shots being fired.
without blinking, he threw his semi-automatic shotgun. “use this.”
you catch it, but you look at it like it's a foreign object, because to you, it is. “i’ve never shot one of these before!”
“just make sure your stance is solid. you’ve got this.”
you shake as you make sure your grip is strong and you aim at the monster in front of you. leon continues firing shots, trying to slow it down, but it is still somehow able to stand up. you notice leon getting fatigued, thanks to the parasite in his body. you have to do this.
with your finger trembling as it hovers over the trigger, you gather up the courage to pull it. in doing so, you deliver a lethal blow to the creatures abdomen, but you’re also thrown a few feet back. you don’t totally fall over because there’s a metal table to catch your fall, but thanks to the sheer force of the gun going off, you knew there’d be a massive bruise going down your back. you hunch over for a moment in pain, but the regenerador is still alive, so you ready up for another shot.
you pull the trigger once more, this time preparing for the recoil and you hit what you think is the creature’s main artery. you can’t really tell if it has a similar anatomical set up as a human being. the regenerador finally falls to the floor and does not attempt to get back up. blood begins pooling underneath its now lifeless body.
leon stops shooting and now that the adrenaline has worn off, you start to feel the pain on your back. you make sure to engage the safety on leon’s gun before letting it fall to the ground and leaning on the very table that you were knocked into.
“oh my god.” you whisper to yourself, trying to catch your breath.
leon slowly walks over to you, his body covered in black veins, “are you alright?”
you quickly stand up, wincing. you don’t want him to know you’re hurt, especially since he is in a much worse position than you are right now. “yeah, definitely.”
“do you think i don’t know you?” he looks at you, seeing right through your bullshit. “you did good.”
you half smile. “thank you.”
you quickly snap a photo of the dead regenerador and go find ashley. from there, the three of you find the machine. after two successful and very quick operations, the parasite is out of ashley and leon, and you are all able to escape the island and destroy it in the process.
after a long and surprisingly peaceful flight, the three of you finally touch down in the nations capital. the peace doesn’t last long, however, as air force one landed at joint base andrews in maryland, you are greeted with an abundance of press. cameras, microphones, yelling in your face, the whole ordeal. the government was kind enough to let the three of you stay in your own separate hotel rooms and get some rest before heading back home, so you look somewhat put together.
no amount of rest or preparation, however, could have prepared you for such a large crowd when getting off the plane. ashley graham is literally the president’s daughter. the first daughter, if you will. but a crowd of this size, asking the most personal questions to a girl that just got kidnapped, was just plain disrespectful. you couldn’t even comprehend a single thing that was being said to you, so everyone just decides to keep their mouths shut.
aside from the actual secret service agents surrounding you guys, you and leon act as bodyguards, shielding ashley from as many camera flashes and stupid questions as possible. eventually, you’re all hauled into a bulletproof suv where your next stop is the white house for a quick press conference, and then hopefully home.
“holy shit,” you say, quietly. “what the fuck was that?”
“i- i don’t know. i didn’t think there would be that many people there,” ashley replies, her eyebrows furrowing.
“are you okay?” you ask her, hoping the attention didn’t spook her too much.
she nods quickly, “i’m okay. this is just weird.”
“super weird,” you add on, with a smile. she smiles back.
the quiet humming of the car is the only sound in the small space. not even the radio is on. you look over at leon, and his classic furrowed eyebrow permanent frown look is plastered on his face. you’re gonna have to get used to seeing him like this. you’re gonna have to get used to seeing him, period.
you’re also going to have to get used to this fame, if you can even call it that. normally journalists are just a name on an article, or a face you see on the local news station every once in a while, but this was different. not only were you going to be writing articles and publishing images and videos from your missions, but your face was going to be plastered everywhere. before leaving for spain, you even caught a glimpse of the breaking news segment announcing the disappearance of ashley, and your brand new identification picture that you had to take for your new job sat right next to leon’s picture on the tv as they announced who was being sent to rescue her.
eventually, you arrive to the white house, thankfully without the cameras this time. for now…
you, leon, and ashley are escorted inside and straight to the press briefing room where you all stand side by side. as even more journalists set up, a makeup artist walks over to you and begins patting your face with powder. she quickly moves on to leon and then ashley.
you look over at him. he’s locked in. it almost makes you wonder if he’s done this before. he’s done missions before, obviously, but with this amount of coverage? surely not.
within a millisecond he whips his head towards you, his face softening immediately. does he always do that when he talks to you?
“have you done this before?”
“what, with all the press and stuff?”
“nope,” he answers, deadpan.
you’re taken aback by this, “how are you so calm? knowing that you’re about to be on television for millions of people to see?”
you roll your eyes at him and go back to facing the small crowd in front of you.
you can’t see it, but it almost looks like a small smirk forms on leon’s face at your reaction. it quickly disappears when the press secretary walks in and everyone, except you ashley and leon, takes a seat.
this is when the cameras begin rolling.
the press briefing was a blur. there was so much talking, and so many meaningless questions you were asked that you had to answer to the best of your ability. one journalist asked you why you were sent on a mission so dangerous even after having practically no experience. he even had the nerve to insinuate that you could have gotten yourself or the others killed. it took everything out of you to not cuss him out on national television, and to instead smile and reassure the country that you were trained for this. plus, you had no choice! if he had a problem with it he could have just asked the president himself.
you finally walk through the doors of your small (but cozy!) apartment and throw your duffel bag onto the floor before throwing yourself on the couch. you hadn’t looked at your phone since before you left, and honestly, you were afraid to do it now. you hesitantly take your phone out of your pocket and you power it on, waiting for the plethora of notifications you knew were about to show up on your screen.
suddenly, the screen lights up, and sure enough, the homepage of your phone is flooded with notifications. theres texts from family members, of course, and best friends, but even people you haven’t spoken to in years. ex talking stages, mutual friends from high school, the people you did a group project with in college, everyone was reaching out to you.
you can’t say you’re surprised, because when a picture of you, leon, and ashley getting off the plane is on the cover of every major newspaper in the country, and your press conference is being broadcast on the biggest news stations in the world, people are going to be curious. it didn’t stop you from feeling incredibly weird and uncomfortable, however.
you take a deep breath before opening your phone, ignoring all of the texts from people that you thought you would never talk to again, and immediately facetime your parents. they answer before the first ring even ends. they’re sitting next to each other on the couch of your childhood home, their faces full of relief.
“hi guys,” you say, anxiously.
“hi baby,” your mom says.
your dad adds on, “hello, sweetheart, we are so glad that you’re okay.”
you smile, and tears begin to form in your eyes.
your mom furrows her eyebrows, “what’s wrong? did something happen?”
you quickly wipe your eyes, “no, i just miss you guys.”
“we miss you even more, if you can believe it,” your dad reassures you, “you should have seen us when we turned on the news and there you were!”
you laugh mid crying, “you guys watched that shit?”
your mom is in shock that you would even ask a question like that, “of course we watched that shit! are you crazy? you did so well up there. i cannot believe it,” she looks at your dad, “we cannot believe it. we’re so proud.”
“thanks guys, seriously. i love you.”
“we love you too,” your mom looks at the time, it’s about 5:30, “well we are gonna let you go for now, you’re probably in need of a nap, and i have to start setting up.”
you fight back a yawn, “i don’t need a nap, also setting up for what?”
“having some friends over, nothing crazy. also, you look exhausted, take the nap. call us tomorrow, okay? we can’t wait to hear about your trip.”
your dad cuts her off, “i don’t know if i would call it a trip.”
she cuts him back off, “well, it’s a work trip!”
you finally cut them both off, “okay guys, i love you, bye!”
you wave to each other and hang up the phone. you have a fairly similar phone call between you and your best friends from back home, which takes even more out of you. normally, you’re the most talkative person in the world, but right now all you want is to be left alone.
you place your phone beside you, letting an incredibly long yawn out. maybe you do need that nap. you let your head fall back and close your eyes. you need food, and a shower, but your couch is just so comfortable it’s making your eyes close on their own.
just as you feel yourself drifting into a nap, your phone rings.
you pick up your phone to see who it is, and it’s a number you don’t recognize. you figure it’s probably someone you knew in high school or something, so you decline the call and put your phone down. it rings again almost immediately, so you huff before picking it back up and answering the call.
“hello?” you sound more exhausted than you’d like.
you know that voice anywhere. you sit up.
“no, you didn’t wake me.” you’re actually happy to hear his voice.
“good.” he also sounds tired.
“how did you get my number?”
“well, i am a federal agent.”
you laugh, “and a creep.”
you hear what you think is a chuckle from the other end of the line.
“i just wanted to see how you were doing. after everything.” there’s genuine concern in his voice.
you sigh, “this is so fucking weird.”
“i know. believe me, i’m not used to this too. i have people i haven’t talked to in years asking me why the fuck im on tv.”
you gasp, sitting up, “me too! like, how inconsiderate. i’m not answering any of them.”
“good idea,” he says, “so you’re okay? even after what you saw? you’re not freaked out?”
“oh i’m totally freaked out, like i’m not sure i’ll be able to sleep tonight, but i’ll be fine. eventually.”
“you should have seen me the first time i saw a zombie, i was terrified.”
“you? terrified? i find that hard to believe.”
“oh come on, you remember how i used to act back in chicago.”
“yeah, but you were practically a kid, still learning.”
“you’re still learning too.”
“i didn’t say you were! but this was your first mission, and it was an insane one. i know you’re still scared of all that shit you encountered, but if you made it through this, you can do anything. and i mean that.”
you smile to yourself, “you do?”
“course i do.” he sounds confident in his answer.
“thank you leon, seriously.”
there’s a bit of an awkward pause.
leon decides to break the ice, “so what are your plans for the rest of the day? sleeping?”
“probably,” you say, “relaxing before the dreadful task of writing my report and picking out what i want to publish. it’s gonna be so difficult going through all the photos i took. i’m not looking forward to it at all.”
leon clears his throat, “...i can help you, if you want.”
“yeah, i mean, you’ve never written a report before, so i can give you a rundown. and we can look through the photos together. if you want.”
“i would love that, leon. oh my god i feel like a weight was just lifted off my shoulders.”
he chuckles again, “we can do it tomorrow, okay? at the office.”
“perfect. thank you. so much.”
“you are so welcome,” he says in a cocky tone, but you can tell he’s joking.
you hang up the phone. there’s a grin on your face, but you’re not sure why. i mean, he’s literally just a coworker. right?
all of the exhaustion that had taken over your body before this phone call has completely disappeared, and you’re wired now. you take advantage of this, so you quickly unpack everything from the mission, throw in a load of laundry, and take a quick shower before crashing and ordering food delivery to your apartment. the only thing that sounded appetizing after spending the last day encountering, talking about, and constantly thinking of the undead was taco bell, so taco bell it is.
you get your food and put on some random vlog you found in your youtube recommended, hoping it will take your mind off of things. after eating, you’re really tired now, so you speed through your night routine and get in bed.
you can’t stop thinking of the mission, but you also can’t stop thinking of leon. it must be because he’s just being so kind to you. you’re living in a new city, working a new (batshit crazy) job, of course he would be nice to you, he’s leon kennedy. he’s nice to everyone, even though judging by his looks, it may not seem like he would be. you find yourself being reminded of the friendship you and him had so long ago every time you talk to him.
underneath that hard exterior is the same man you knew back then. incredibly kind, and although you refused to admit it to him back then, incredibly funny as well. you wonder why you haven’t seen him talk like that to anyone else. it’s probably nothing. you just reunited with him not that long ago, and you haven’t really seen him interact with anyone else, so you must just be thinking about things too hard. something you’ve always been good at. you try to push these thoughts away, and once you do that, you finally fall asleep.
shockingly, you actually slept pretty well. not one nightmare about a horrific virus infecting you, being eaten alive, or any other terrifying scenario. you actually slept in a little bit, feeling more rested than you thought you would have felt.
you check the time on your phone to see that it’s already 6:25, which means you have five minutes to get out the door. your eyes widen and you immediately jump out of bed.
after a quick outfit change and no breakfast you’re out the door and driving to the pentagon. you didn’t even have time to do your makeup, which isn’t a big deal, but it would definitely make you feel better if you didn’t look completely exhausted at work.
speaking of work, why the fuck would they have you come in right after escaping death. the reports, yes, but you easily could have done it at home, on your couch, in pajamas.
nevertheless, you arrive to work and go through security, which you are now realizing is something you’re going to have to do every single day you go to work. once you reach the entrance of your wing, you take a deep breath, scan your id card, and walk inside.
to your surprise, nearly everybody in the office halts whatever conversations they were having and turn their heads towards you when you walk in. agents, interns, even the janitor looking as though they’ve seen a ghost, or better yet, a zombie. you pause, looking around, looking equally as horrified as everybody else.
around the corner comes chief matthews looking excited as ever. he walks up to you with a grin on his face. everyone goes back to doing their work once they see him.
“well well well, if it isn’t our new hero,” he says.
you clear your throat, “hero? i don’t know, i was just doing my job.”
he leans closer to you, his voice a whisper, “excuse my language, but you and i both know that’s bullshit. you and leon are heroes.”
a small smile appears across your face, “thank you, chief.”
“now go get cracking on that report, we need it before the weekend.”
you finally make it to your office, that is, after walking through the cubicles of your coworkers and feeling their eyes on you. you slowly turn the door handle and open the door to be greeted by leon sitting at your desk. not expecting him, you jump back slightly.
“sorry, should’ve let you know,” he says, inspecting your sparse desk.
“it’s fine, just wasn’t expecting you is all.”
“weren’t expecting me? what about that report?”
“i wasn’t expecting you to be sitting in my office and at my desk,” you clarify.
outside your office are two more agents, both women, ones you have yet to be introduced to. leon gestures towards the door as a way of getting your attention.
you turn around and see the two agents. you let yourself out of your office, leaving leon inside.
“hi!” you say to the two women.
“hi! we just wanted to introduce ourselves to you. we’ve heard so much,” one of the women says, “i’m claire. redfield.”
the name rings a bell, “nice to meet you, claire! i think i met your… brother? a few days ago.”
“yes! chris, he’s my brother,” a pause, she gestures to the woman next to her, “and this is jill valentine.”
“hello, you’re insane, by the way,” jill says.
“oh please,” you say, trying to sound humble, “it’s… okay i guess maybe i am a little insane.”
claire and jill laugh, you join them.
“that’s what i’m talking about!” claire points to your office behind you, “what’s the deal with that.”
“with leon,” she says, looking into your office and seeing him still sat at your desk.
“is there a deal?” you ask, genuinely curious.
“you guys just seem awfully close,” jill interjects.
you finally realize what they’re talking about, “oh! yeah, me and him trained together and we were good friends, before… y’know.”
“raccoon city?” asks claire.
“no shit,” she says, “that was the day i met him.”
your eyes go wide, “you were there too?”
she nods, “yeah… well i guess that makes sense why he talks to you so much.”
“leon is… quiet,” jill says, “he just tends to keep to himself most of the time, not really talking to other agents unless absolutely necessary.”
“we saw the two of you talking on your first day, and during the press conference,” adds claire, “it just isn’t really something i’ve ever seen him do with anyone at the agency. with the exception of my brother, actually.”
“really?” you ask, looking behind you before facing the women again.
“yeah,” claire says, “you guys must have had a pretty solid friendship back then.”
“we should probably get to work, huh?” jill asks claire.
“yes, definitely,” claire replies before turning to you, “it was nice meeting you, and great work out there.”
you smile, “thank you, it was nice meeting you too.”
they walk away, leaving you standing in front of your office door by yourself. you shake your head, there was no way they were serious about leon. he really doesn’t talk to anyone else? there was only one way to find out.
you head back into your office, where leon hasn’t moved a muscle.
“you ready to get started?” he asks.
“yeah,” you pause, “hey i have a question.”
“what do you do for fun around here?” you ask, trying not to sound suspicious, “i just- i feel like there isn’t much to do in the city, and was wondering if you and some of the other agents ever just go out and decompress… i guess.”
“i don’t usually kick it with the other agents, but there’s museums you could-”
“i’m not interested in that.”
“even at work? i mean, i just haven’t seen you really talk to anyone.”
“no sense in conversing when there’s work to be done.”
“you’re conversing with me, aren’t you?”
he opens his mouth, trying to think of what to say, “you’re different.”
“you’re just different, that’s all.”
you nod, not wanting to push, “well, let’s start looking through everything.”
and that you did. the two of you spent the entire day in your office, sorting through photos, writing reports, and doing so while trying to ignore the short conversation you and leon had in the morning.
you were afraid to look through the pictures you took, afraid that one look at the mutilated b.o.w. you snapped a photo of was going to bring you right back to that moment, but for some reason, the photos gave you no reaction.
it’s almost as though you were distracted. you tried to pay attention, you really did, but there was something preventing you from being able to fully focus on your work. perhaps it was exhaustion, or a state of shock, or… a secret third thing.
it could not have been him, surely not. you were friends, the same way you were friends all those years ago. nothing has changed! he looks a little different, older, stronger, tougher, but deep down you knew it was the same leon kennedy you had known in chicago, and you certainly weren’t interested in him like that back then.
except, you might have had an innocent little crush on him six years ago, but that means nothing, and it has absolutely no relevance now. you were practically kids. now, you’re both adults, with serious jobs, and no time for childish crushes. judging by leon’s change in personality since the last time you saw him, it was clear that he would have agreed with you.
work comes first, especially in your field, which makes this whole internal dilemma pointless. you work for the united states government, and yet, you’re spending your time worrying about something that, in the grand scheme of life, doesn’t matter.
“do you wanna stop for the day?”
his sultry voice snaps you out of your thoughts. you look at the time and realize you should have been home by now.
“we still haven’t finished,” you reply, before getting cut off by a yawn.
leon, sat directly next to you, reaches over and closes your laptop.
“we don’t need to finish everything right now,” he protests, “and you look exhausted.”
“that obvious?” you say, looking at him with tired eyes.
“unfortunately,” he yawns too, “look, you finished the article for the newspaper, and you got a good chunk of your official report done, and you’ll definitely have time to finish it tomorrow before the weekend, so just… go home.”
“thank you for helping me.”
“always,” he says, a small smile at the corner of his mouth, “i’m gonna get going too, i’ll walk you to your car.”
“okay, cool, just give me like five minutes,” you say, beginning to pack up your belongings.
he nods, getting out of his seat and leaving your office. when you hear the door shut, you immediately exhale, like you’ve been holding your breath for the past nine hours.
so he’ll happily have a conversation with you at work, help you with your tasks, and also walk you to your car at the end of the day? you definitely were different. and he was too.
the only thing on your mind now was getting him to admit it. admit that there was something going on that wasn’t just him being friendly, because clearly him being friendly meant ignoring all of his fellow agents unless he absolutely had to talk to them.
although you were hired at the dso with virtually no experience, you still held various skills that made you stand out from the rest. weaponry, strength, agility, journalism, but arguably the most important skill, intelligence.
you were a quick thinker, and this skill was going to be put to use out of the workplace.
you were a frugal college student, and now, a frugal post-grad adult. your car was incredibly old, and would stall from time to time. of course, you knew all the different hacks to get it running again, but what if you didn’t? you just had to hope the odds were in your favor.
you meet back up with leon and make your way to the parking lot. for a moment you’re worried more people are going to see the two of you together and be suspicious given leons reputation, but because the two of you stayed so late, there weren’t as many people in the building.
you finally get to your car, a toyota that’s almost the same age as you. leon inspects it.
“cute,” he says, playfully.
you roll your eyes, unlocking your car, “see you tomorrow, leon.”
you get in, say a silent prayer, and insert the key into the ignition. you turn it slowly…
in any other situation, you would have popped the hood, hit a couple things, and the car would have turned on as expected. leon doesn’t know that though.
he’s a few feet away, already walking to his car, but when he hears the sound of your car failing to turn on, he quickly turns around and walks back to you.
utilising your sparse acting skills, you try to look as annoyed as possible. as he gets closer to you, you exit the car.
“guess i’m taking the metro,” you say while laughing awkwardly.
“my car decides when it does and doesn’t want to work.” you shrug, “it’s fine, though.”
“what? i can take you home.”
you pretend to act surprised, “it’s okay, seriously.”
“nah, come on. i’ll take you home, and hopefully tomorrow your car starts.”
without waiting for an answer, leon starts walking away. you quickly lock up your car and catch up to him.
“you don’t have to do this.”
he scoffs, “it’s a short drive, don’t worry about it.”
a smile creeps onto your face, but since you’re behind him, he doesn’t see it.
the two of you finally arrive to leon’s car, a black range rover. of course he would have a luxury car. god only knows how much his bi-weekly paycheck is.
he unlocks the car and walks over to the passengers side, opening the door for you.
“how kind,” you say, getting into the car.
he nods, shutting the door and getting in the drivers side. he turns the car on and hands you his phone with the gps open, and you type in your address. the two of you make eye contact for a millisecond when he turns around to back out of the parking spot, and it immediately sends a shiver down your spine.
he also has a backup camera, but apparently he prefers to do things the old school way.
the car ride is quiet, aside from the soft hum of whatever classic rock song is playing on the radio. once his car pulls up to the front of your building, you hesitate.
you didn’t think this far ahead. you wanted to spend more time with him, but you didn’t want to make it weird or awkward.
you unbuckle your seat and just before you give up and get out of the car, you look at him.
“do you wanna come in?” you ask, quietly, almost like you’re embarrassed.
you look away, afraid to hear what his answer may be. he swallows and tries to force down a smile.
you whip your head towards him, “you do?” a pause, “i mean, yeah, okay.”
the two of you make it into your barely furnished apartment. it’s not a depressing look, though, it’s more minimalist. chic, if you will. you do wish you had some decor around. the only real piece of decor you own is a mirror in your living room.
you can’t help but wonder what leon’s place looks like.
“do you want something to drink?”
leon looks around your apartment. he sure loves inspecting things.
“sure, what do you have?”
you stand in your kitchen looking at the single unopened bottle of wine on the counter.
he notices what you’re looking at and nods, “perfect.”
you pour two glasses of wine and make your way over to your living room, where he stands.
you pause, the two glasses still in your hand. you haven’t gotten close enough to him yet, but you feel a need to clear the air. there’s an underlying tension between the two of you, something that’s been evident since the moment you locked eyes just a few days ago.
“can i ask you something?” you ask, quietly, “and can you tell me the truth?”
you aren’t facing him, rather you’re facing the mirror. he stands a few feet behind you. you look at him through the mirror, and he looks at you.
he doesn’t break eye contact, but it’s clear he isn’t going to answer your question so you ask it anyways.
you turn around and walk to your couch, placing one of the glasses on the coffee table. a few moments later he sits beside you.
you sip your drink, waiting for him to answer, but he leaves his glass on the table.
he takes a deep breath, “i haven’t been the same since that day.”
oh this is serious. you put your glass on the table and direct your full attention towards him.
he clears his throat, “i think people noticed a change in me after that. and it made them feel differently towards me.” he tries to think of what to say next, “i feel like when people talk to me, they’re walking on eggshells, y’know? i walk into a room and everyone goes quiet, like i’m a ticking time bomb or something.”
“i don’t know why they do it. i witnessed horrific things, lost good people, i guarantee if anyone went through what i went through they’d be acting the same, if not worse.”
he sighs, “if the other agents are too afraid to talk to me for whatever reason, whether it’s because they’re afraid of me, or because they don’t want to hurt my feelings, or whatever, why should i talk to them? believe it or not, i wouldn’t mind having a conversation with someone if they just came up to me first.”
“i understand,” you finally say something.
he shifts his body so that he is facing you fully, whereas before he was facing forward.
“with you,” he adds, “you knew me before all of that. you know who i really am, how i act, there’s no pressure talking to you. you’re not gonna tip toe around me like everybody else. that’s why you’re different.”
“of course i’m not, i just- i can’t imagine what that was like for you,” you say, trying to make him feel a little better.
“i’m really happy you’re here. you have no idea.”
“i think i have some idea.”
he smiles, like genuinely smiles. a grin appears across his face, and you try not to react, but you haven’t seen him smile like that in six years. it’s almost like you can see all 32 teeth.
the sight of him makes you break out into a grin, and the two of you start giggling on your couch like kids.
you decide it’s finally time to bite the bullet.
he rolls his eyes, but you can tell you made him giddy.
“i missed your smile too,” he admits, “and everything else.”
“you’re just saying that.”
“i mean it. and i meant it when i told you i looked for you. every day since i left.”
it wasn’t all in your head. there was something.
you look at him, wondering who was going to say something next. the silence is giving you goosebumps. you can’t look at him, so you look away.
“can i kiss you?” he finally asks.
you look at him once more, and you bite your lip to prevent yourself from grinning again. gotta keep cool!
instead of answering his question, you lean in and kiss him, slowly.
he kisses you back, also slowly. you feel his large hand cup your cheek.
this rhythm continues for a few moments before leon seemingly gets ahead of himself and kisses you harder.
immediately, he pulls back, his face turning red.
“why did you stop?” you ask, sounding somewhat disappointed.
“i don’t know- i didn’t know if you-” he can’t even look at you.
you kiss him again, hard, mimicking the roughness that made him pull away just moments before.
he follows your lead, now using both hands to cup your face.
your hands reach for him, but they aren’t quite sure where to go. you start by cupping his cheeks, and then slowly you trail down his jaw, and then his neck, before reaching his shoulders.
you hold onto them, tight. you’re so caught up in kissing him that you don’t realize just how hard you’re holding onto him until you accidentally dig your nails into him and a groan escapes the back of his throat.
the sound instantly makes your breath hitch and you quietly moan into his mouth.
you can’t take this build up any longer, so you hoist yourself up and onto his lap, straddling him. you manage to do this without separating your mouth from his.
you start involuntarily bucking your hips against his, trying to create even the smallest bit of friction to combat the feeling of heat building between your legs.
“fuuuck…” he says into your mouth.
with every passing moment you feel his length hardening beneath you.
you pull away for just a moment, panting, “i need more…”
he nods, eagerly, “what are you doing to me?”
a cocky grin appears on your face as you reach for the bottom of his shirt. you take his shirt off with urgency, and he quickly does the same to you.
he kisses you again, and seamlessly unclips your bra with one hand, because, obviously he can do that.
he pulls away for a moment to admire you on his lap, which makes you shy.
“breathtaking.” it’s all he can manage to say.
you stand up for just a second to unbutton and take off your jeans, and as you do this, leon does the same to his jeans.
now, with you back on his lap, you slowly grind your already damp underwear onto the apparent bulge in his boxers.
you can feel him twitching beneath you as he starts peppering kisses all over your face, neck, and finally breasts.
he takes one of your nipples into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the stiff peak. this elicits a louder moan from you, and suddenly, the grinding just isn’t enough.
you lean into his ear, your voice a whisper, “fuck me, please.”
“yes ma’am,” he pulls back and whispers back to you.
he reaches down, grabbing the waistband of his boxers, and pulling them down to reveal his cock, which stands basically upright and is already leaking at the tip.
your mouth practically waters at the sight of him.
he looks you in the eyes, seemingly waiting for a confirmation that everything is okay, you nod slightly, which prompts him to grab your panties and move them to the side.
he slowly inserts himself into you, which is incredibly easy for him given your arousal practically leaking out of you. this contact feels euphoric, and you can’t help but let your eyes roll into the back of your head.
you allow yourself to fully sink down onto him, before coming up, and repeating the action.
you continue doing this, making sure that his tip hits your sweet spot every time you bottom out.
your hands lay against his bare chest, while his rest on your hips. he doesn’t guide you, or keep the rhythm going, he simply wants to touch you, and that just so happens to be the perfect spot for him to rest his hands.
he’s happy to let you take the lead. truth be told, he would be happy to do anything for you.
you continue riding him, the two of you spewing profanities that echo throughout the practically empty apartment until you feel the warm feeling building in your stomach.
“i- i’m gonna-” you can barely get words out, the feeling of him filling you can be compared to that of drugs.
“i know, i know. it’s okay,” he reassures.
his voice is enough to send you over the edge, and give you what might be the best orgasm you’ve ever experienced in his life.
your pace continues, your whole body twitching, as a way to not only ride out your own climax, but to also not deny him of his own.
your moans are like music to his ears, and the sound of you reaching your peak allows him to finally reach his.
you feel his dick twitch inside you, as he groans into the crook of your neck. his release coats your inner walls, and once the both of you are finished, the only sound in the small apartment is the sound of the two of you catching your breaths.
with him still inside you, you collapse, letting your arms gently wrap around him.
“i don’t wanna fucking work tomorrow,” you say, casually, like he didn’t just fuck you into next week.
he laughs, “i don’t either.”
