MONOMANIACAL
Police Officer!Leon x Yandere!Reader
❌18+ MDNI❌
Chapter 1
Monomaniacal (adjective) describes an extreme, often unhealthy fixation on a single subject, idea, or goal to the exclusion of almost everything else.
[Leon clears his throat to recollect himself, eyeing her appearance to quickly make an assessment of her. Oversized clothes—a large hoodie and ripped jeans—dirty, old sneakers, chipped nail polish, and clearly unwashed hair. He can't tell if she’s purposely trying to look homeless or if she actually is.
“Can I help you, ma’am?” he puts on his ‘work’ voice.
The young woman does not respond. Instead, she simply continues staring at him with that same sort of awe-filled expression that he finds hard to decipher. He’s usually not easily intimidated, but put simply, this girl gives him the creeps.]
cw: cop!leon, fem!reader, 3rd person pov, nsfw, stalking, obsessing, creepy vibes, dark comedy-ish, mental illness, depression, substance use, angst, fluff, eventual smut, non-BOW au, modern times, reader is cuckoo, but leon will learn to like it.
Chapters: 1, TBA
hello hello!! i'm so excitedddd for this one you guys! but i just want to put a little disclaimer, i am not in any way experienced with anything having to do with law enforcement, so i probably will get things wrong, but i don't really care because leon is the only cop i care about and he's fictional anyway yay 🩵
this is going to be a mini series, so hopefully no longer than 10 chapters, and it will be updated once every two weeks to allow me to tackle more projects alongside it 💙
“Dispatch to Unit 31, status?"
"31, code four."
"Copy."
A small sigh leaves Leon’s lips at hearing the radio comms. It’s been code four all around for the past hour, and he couldn't be more grateful for that. Swing shifts are the worst. With people coming out of work, traffic in the roads, and bars filling up, it's usually the busiest time for a patrolling officer.
Glancing at the clock, he reads the time: 10:34 p.m. Less than an hour and a half before the end of his shift. He can already picture himself passing out as soon as his head hits the pillow, drowsiness already settling in his senses, which he combats with much needed caffeine.
He stopped at a Wawa’s a few minutes earlier to pick up piping hot coffee and the last surviving Boston cream donut—fully aware of the irony of doing so in uniform.
The steaming liquid sloshes in its lidded container sitting in the cruiser’s cup holder with every turn of the vehicle. With a hand on the wheel, the blonde’s eyes are focused on the road, looking for somewhere he can stop to eat his little treat before wrapping up his shift.
A parking garage comes into view. Free on Sundays, empty, quiet, and in a decently safe area of D.C—it's exactly what he needs.
Five minutes later and he’s sipping on his coffee quietly, taking bites of the sweet pastry that he chews slowly. It’s not exactly the best tasting food, but he wasn't expecting any better from a convenience store. If anything, the cheap flavor is comforting, nostalgic, and he enjoys the silence of the night with the familiar taste on his tongue.
Despite his seemingly relaxed appearance, Leon, having been a police officer for six years now, knows that being alone means to always be on guard. He makes sure to check his rearview mirror and surroundings every now and then, keeping his instincts on guard at all times.
It’s exhausting, and makes him appreciate all the more the moments he’s not in blue, but for now he finishes his food with as much relaxation as a man on duty can allow himself.
Once done, he wipes his sticky fingers with a napkin, then gathers the trash into a plastic bag before stepping out of his vehicle. Like routine, he throws a glance around him to survey his surroundings, before making his way to the nearby garbage bin.
Dusting his hands once he’s discarded the bag, he stretches his neck until it makes a cracking sound before exhaling deeply. He really can't wait to go home.
When he turns to head back to his car, his heart lurches as he gets quite literally jumpscared by the sudden appearance of a girl. She's standing by the cruiser, her eyes wide and her expression wild with a faint smile on her lips. Almost like she's at the zoo and she just saw her favorite animal for the first time.
Leon clears his throat to recollect himself, eyeing her appearance to quickly make an assessment of her. Oversized clothes—a large hoodie and ripped jeans—dirty, old sneakers, chipped nail polish, and clearly unwashed hair. He can't tell if she’s purposely trying to look homeless or if she actually is.
“Can I help you, ma’am?” he puts on his ‘work’ voice.
The young woman does not respond. Instead, she simply continues staring at him with that same sort of awe filled expression that he finds hard to decipher. He’s usually not easily intimidated, but put simply, this girl gives him the creeps.
“Ma’am?” he repeats, and she finally blinks, as if pulled out of a reverie.
“H-hi…” she murmurs with that odd smile still on her face. Then, as if realizing how uncanny she must look, she quickly schools her expression. “Hi, h-hello, mister—uh, Officer… I, um, need help.”
Taking in her stammered response, Leon’s frown deepens. “What kind of help?”
Her eyes dart around, as if searching for something, before she meets his gaze again. “My car broke down… and I don't have insurance to call.”
Clicking his tongue, he gives her a pointed look. “You do realize it's illegal to drive a vehicle without car insurance in D.C, right?”
“Yes, s-sorry…”
He sighs, already dreading the headache of dealing with this when he could be on his way back to the precinct to clock out. “You don’t have anyone to come pick you up?”
The girl fiddles with her long sleeves as she shakes her head. “No… I’m new in town. Also my car usually just needs a push, nothing too bad. It’s just so damn old,” she chuckles, strained and too loud for her mediocre joke.
With a sharp exhale through his nose, the policeman finally relents. “Alright… Where is it?”
“Uh, fourth floor. I-I just came down here to see if anyone could help me…”
“Right, then. Lead the way,” he gestures towards the elevators.
As she walks ahead slowly, their footsteps echoing in the empty garage, he keeps a safe distance out of precaution. He still has a bad feeling about this, and it doesn't help that she keeps turning around to steal quick glances at him.
“What brought you here?” he asks, prodding for more information about the odd stranger.
“Oh, um, I work at this food place down the street,” she points vaguely in the eastern direction. “I did closing alone tonight.” Another nervous chuckle.
Once they reach the set of steel doors, he watches her hesitate for a split second before pushing the ‘up’ button. Now that he’s standing closer, he can see more clearly the red blood vessels in her eyes giving them a glassy appearance. Then, it all clicks. She's high.
Leon follows her inside the elevator, then presses the correct number while keeping a watchful eye on her. “Ma’am, are you under the influence of any drugs or alcohol?”
Her eyes widen at the sudden question, and she laughs, then looks panicked, then laughs again. “Just a couple of edibles! I swear!”
“And you are planning on driving your car while high?” he scoffs, placing his hands on his hips.
She tracks the movement with her eyes, visibly gulping, before focusing on his face again. “Uh, it's not a c-crime if I haven't done it yet, right?”
The deep sigh he makes is made of pure frustration. “Alright, I’m gonna need to see some I.D,” he makes a motion with his hand.
“No!” she immediately retorts, before coughing nervously. “I-I mean I don’t have it on me… It’s in my car.”
Just as she says that, the elevator dings as it comes to a stop, prompting the man to mutter a sarcastic ‘perfect’ under his breath.
“After you,” he grumbles.
Her breath audibly hitches at the command, and she doesn't move for an entire two seconds where she just stares at him, before finally stepping out of the lift.
Leon is growing more and more suspicious of the girl, and he’s now starting to realize it may not have been very wise of him to follow her upstairs. With a hand on his radio, he looks around for any lurking threats. After all, this could be a scheme to get him jumped—you never know what to expect these days.
The floor is completely empty, however, with only a few sparse cars parked throughout. They pass car after car, and the young woman shows no sign of stopping just yet. She doesn't even reach in her pockets to pull out a key.
He definitely has a bad feeling about this.
Once they nearly reach the far end, she slowly comes to a halt. When he also stops a few feet behind her, there is an eerie silence encompassing them that is only interrupted by the buzzing of a flickering light in the corner. She doesn't say anything, just stands there with her head tilted down and her hands trembling lightly.
“Ma’am?” he rasps out, a churning sensation in his stomach.
Finally, she slowly turns to face him, her breathing weirdly uneven, but it's her expression that makes him want to step back. She has that same wide eyed smile she had before, the corners of her mouth twitching and making her look even more uncanny.
Then, she drops to her knees. “CanIpleasesuckyourdick?”
Leon blinks, completely unmoving for a second, before he frowns in utter confusion. “What?”
“S-sorry, um…” she clears her throat and he almost sighs in relief thinking he must've heard her wrong, only for her to reiterate her unhinged demand slower. “Can I, uh… please s-suck you off?”
This time, it's his turn to let out a strained laugh, like he can't believe what in the ever loving fuck she just said. Clearly, she's a lot higher than she claimed, and it's certainly not just ‘a couple of edibles’.
He can see her pleading eyes, her weirdly shy expression, and if he was any other man he might be willing to take the offer just for the ego boost alone. How many guys can say they had a pretty stranger beg for their dick? But that's the thing, pretty strangers don't beg for dick. At least not unless they’re clinically insane.
When she stays kneeling, looking up at him with a hopeful expression as if waiting for him to actually consider her offer, his worry increases tenfold. This feels like the start of a true crime story. He looks around again, his head turning in every direction to catch whoever might come out from a shadowed corner.
“Is this some kind of joke?” he mutters with a locked jaw.
“No… I know it's weird, but I mean it.”
Officially done, he rests his hand on his holster with a stern face. “Alright, that's enough. Stand up.”
In response, she gives him puppy eyes, like a child who wasn't allowed candy. “B-but please! I can be quick if you don't have time!”
“Christ… Are you insane?” he scoffs, and the accusation seems to affect her as she retreats into herself, sitting back on her heels. “Stand up or you're getting arrested for harassing an officer on duty.”
With her head bowed and a small voice, she argues further. “But… I’ll make it so good, I promise…”
Leon feels his eye twitch in irritation. This is the weirdest thing that has ever happened to him, and he can't believe the sheer unhingedness of this woman.
“You know what? I’m not doing this shit tonight, I’m leaving,” he shakes his head, then begins to turn and walk away. “You stay put. I swear to God if you follow me—”
He’s cut off by the sound of shuffling behind him, and sure enough, she's already scrambling on his tail on her damn hands and knees. He feels like this has to be an elaborate prank or else he just met the craziest person ever.
“Please d-don’t leave! I just— I really need this,” she pleads as she continues to crawl closer. “I know you're a good cop, Leon, but damn it, it’s a blowjob! Just take it, it’ll be good. Please!”
The sound of his name brings him into a screeching halt, and suddenly it's no longer just about a crazed individual, but something potentially a lot worse.
“How the fuck do you know my name?” he snaps coldly, and sees her visibly shiver from his tone.
“Uh… Lucky guess?” she tries with an awkward smile.
Leon looms over her with a death glare, his hand back on his holster. “Do you think this is funny?”
“No…”
“Then answer my fucking question.”
He knows his name plate only displays ‘L. S. Kennedy’, so the fact she so casually dropped his first name when he cannot remember meeting her before makes his hair stand up.
With her head bowed like she's being told off by a teacher, she takes a moment to gather her thoughts before murmuring, “I guess you don't remember me but… One time, near Union Station, you were with another officer and I heard him call your name… I asked you for directions that day, but looks like you, um, forgot.”
Leon nearly chokes from her claim, and he would think he’s having a weird dream if not for the cool, humid breeze on his skin feeling all too real.
“How is that— Who—” he pauses as he struggles to formulate a proper question. “Are you stalking me?!”
“What?! No!” she answers quickly with a fervent headshake. “No, no, look… I just remembered you, a-and saw you come out of your car just now and thought I would, you know, make an offer.”
“Is that what you call harrassment?” he scoffs loudly. “So you planned this shit, huh? You don't even have a car, do you?”
She stays quiet, and that confirms his accusation. This has reached new levels of weird if she truly remembered him from a one time encounter, though he’s not sure if he buys that.
“So what the hell is this? Some kind of fetish?”
“It’s not a fetish. Like I told you… it’s an offer.”
“Yeah, no, that's just called solicitation,” he tsks, his tone dripping with disappointment. “Do you go around giving out ‘offers’ to random cops?”
“No. I’ve never done this before,” she huffs, seemingly offended. “And I’m not asking for money so you can't arrest me.”
Leon feels his jaw clench in pure annoyance. This woman is unbelievable. “Well I sure as hell will if you don't stand up. How many times have I asked you already?”
To his great dismay, she still asks for confirmation as if her demand isn't batshit crazy. “So you’re really saying no?” she murmurs as she slowly stands up.
“Yeah, sorry, I’m not interested,” he clicks his tongue, relieved she's no longer on her knees.
After a moment of silence, he’s about to ask for her I.D again when she speaks quietly. “...I can deepthroat.”
That’s it.
“Hands behind your head,” he grits out while reaching for his handcuffs.
Her eyes widen like the possibility of actually getting detained somehow hadn't crossed her mind. “Wait, wait, wait! Y-you can’t— I can't get arrested! Look, I’m sorry for what I said. Just f-forget I said anything, please.”
Leon does not care for her regretting once things became serious. This woman is a danger to public safety—including herself, because he is certain plenty of other men would have taken her oh-so-kind offer and then her body would end in a ditch.
“Hands. Now.” He barks once he’s made his way to stand behind her. Without hesitation, he grabs her wrists that she had raised weakly one by one to restrain them. “You thought I was playing? This isn't some funny prank to pull on an officer.”
She’s tenser than a rock as he snaps the cuffs in place, and then she suddenly makes a sound. A sound Leon tries to ignore, but is certain is in fact a pleasurable moan.
“Did you just…” he chokes on his own breath.
He handcuffed her and she moaned. This is unprecedented levels of unhinged.
She doesn't respond, seemingly mortified, and when he begins hauling her back to the elevators she asks quietly, “am I under arrest?”
Clearly, the concept bothers her greatly if she looks so defeated. Good, Leon thinks to himself. She needs to learn a lesson, even if he’s still hesitant to fully arrest her. Why? He isn't sure. But he theorizes it's a mix of pity from the obviously tormented soul, and apprehension of having to deal with her any further.
Especially if she keeps making weirdly tempting offers.
“No. But you will be if you don't cooperate. I’m taking you downstairs for the breathalyzer.”
“I’m not drunk, Leon, I promise!” she gives him those damn puppy eyes again. Christ, why does he always get the lunatics?
“Quiet. And it's officer Kennedy to you.” He pushes the lift call button repeatedly, a sense of urgency filling him with every passing second.
“I’m not lying this time!” she protests again.
He audibly grunts in frustration as he pulls her inside the elevator. “Stop talking or I’m charging you for resisting arrest.”
That seems to do the trick, and she finally keeps quiet as they make their way to his cruiser. He can't help but notice the repeated glances she steals his way, and how the arm he’s holding is awkwardly stiff against his palm.
Once near the car, he lets go of her to grab a BAC device from inside, then brings it to her mouth with a cold expression. “Blow.”
As soon as the order is out of his mouth, he cringes at the double entendre of the situation. But then, he watches her dart her gaze in sudden shyness as she wraps her lips around the tube, as if she wasn't making outrageous requests a minute ago.
The numbers on the quadrant flicker as it calculates her alcohol intake, and he can't help but feel there's something oddly intimate about the moment. As soon as he’s able to get a reading, he steps back with a frown as he reads the results: sober. She wasn't drunk after all. Still doesn't change the fact she is most definitely too high to be walking around alone this late at night.
“I told you,” she grumbles under her breath, her arms shifting uncomfortably in the bounds.
Giving her a lingering look, Leon feels himself somewhat lower his guard. Yes, this still takes the cake for the most bizarre encounter he’s ever had, but outside of being oddly horny, she seems to be harmless. He just feels bad for her more than anything.
“What’s your name?” he suddenly asks, his voice softer now.
“Uh…”
Quirking an eyebrow, he observes her with interest. “Don't tell me you forgot your name.”
The girl looks around nervously before meeting his eyes with her bloodshot ones. “If you're not arresting me, can't you just let me go?”
He remains quiet for a moment, then finally clicks his tongue with a nod. He has no legal reason to continue detaining her, especially since he’s letting her behavior slide and not making an arrest. She just looks like someone who needs help more than a criminal.
Gesturing for her to spin around, he undoes her handcuffs when she complies, and this time, she seems to put extra effort into not making a sound. It would be funny if it wasn't infuriating.
“Alright… Off you go,” he mutters as he steps back. “Next time, don't take too many edibles if you can't handle them.”
“R-right,” she nods, and with a final wide eyed look his way, begins to walk away.
Leon watches her from his spot, a sense of worry settling inside him about the fate of this poor, deranged girl. He wouldn't be surprised if her face was on the paper the next day if some sick asshole finds her. Especially if she asks for sexual favors from random men.
He wonders what could drive someone like her to act like that. Drugs, sure, but there is more to it. No one acts like this unless they’re mentally unwell, and from the sight of her demeanor, she clearly isn't.
As he sighs deeply, debating if he should offer her a ride home but not sure if it's the right decision, she stops in her tracks and slowly turns to him with that hopeful expression she had earlier.
Oh, God. What now?
“Hey, Le—I mean Officer… Do you think it could be possible if, um, since you don't want me to t-touch you… you could maybe, uh, just like, I don't know… spit in my mouth or something.”
Leon’s expression remains completely unmoved for a moment, as still as a statue as his brain short circuits with her incredulous demand.
This is the weirdest fucking day of his life.
“Alright…” he exhales, and he sees the flicker of hope in her eyes before he continues. “You’re under arrest for disorderly conduct and public intoxication. I’m taking you in.”
Next chapter coming soon.
hehe i'm so excited to write this one it's literally been living in my head for moooonths as one of my weird little head AUs <3 i hope you guys enjoyed this first chapter and look forward to the next one 🩵
