#dso agent

[annaoi]

[kh4l33s11]

Wicked Games - MASTERLIST

Older Leon Kennedy x DSO agent! f! reader

Synopsis:Your job at the DSO always consisted of writing a ton of reports and going to boring meetings, the result of which were, of course, more reports to write. You always wanted more action, yet you never got any field work. Not until him, anyway. But one random day, your life changes completely: tasked by the higher ups to join the best agent in counter-bioterrorism wasn't something you thought you would ever achieve, yet here you are. Now training for actual fieldwork doesn't seem so exciting anymore, especially when your new partner is Leon S Kennedy. And the problem is not the proximity from the missions or the training you undergo together, but the way his eyes roam over you, the way he touches you and the feelings he evokes in you.

Contains: age gap(15 years), angst, smut, fluff, slow burn, Leon being pathetically in love with reader, RE-specific gore, mentions of death, injuries and blood -> TWs will be written in every chapter anyway, but just so you get a clear idea what you are about to embark into

CHAPTER 1 - Red Lipstick

CHAPTER 2 - Rumour has it

CHAPTER 3 - Carry out

CHAPTER 4- I'll be there

CHAPTER 5 - Kills

CHAPTER 6 - No one like you

CHAPTER 7 - Coffee

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Author's note: I've been putting this series off for a while now, but now I'm finally ready to write it. I'll try to update as soon as I can. This is an age gap (Leon is 40, reader is 25), angsty slow burn. TWs will be mentioned before every chapter. Hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I'll also mention that @julymist 's 'You're gonna be okay' inspired me to write this - one of my fav leon ffs ive read, highly recommend.

[loen-kennededy]

Hey, Leon, you know game truth or dare?

- @dso-agent-in

I feel like everyone knows that game, right?

[annaoi]

Studying his face.... again.

[kh4l33s11]

Wicked Games(by The Weeknd)

Synopsis:Your job at the DSO always consisted of writing a ton of reports and going to boring meetings, the result of which were, of course, more reports to write. You always wanted more action, yet you never got any field work. Not until him, anyway. But one random day, your life changes completely: tasked by the higher ups to join the best agent in counter-bioterrorism wasn't something you thought you would ever achieve, yet here you are. Now training for actual fieldwork doesn't seem so exciting anymore, especially when your new partner is Leon S Kennedy. And the problem is not the proximity from the missions or the training you undergo together, but the way his eyes roam over you, the way he touches you and the feelings he evokes in you.

Contains: uses of the term Y/n and L/n, Leon's hotass body and face, reader being a perfectionist

WC:1746

~Credits to the rightful owners of the photos~

CHAPTER 1 - Red Lipstick (by Rihanna)

Your job at the DSO always consisted of writing contracts and reports. Nothing more, nothing less. You never got sent anywhere despite the military background, excellent grades you got from the army and your position in the Special Ops, and you would lie if you said it didn't frustrate you, as you have always been longing for more action rather than sitting at a desk and writing and signing papers.

You have been working for the DSO for three years now, and you could say you got used to the desk job, despite craving that adrenaline rush from your army days. You couldn't complain much, as the pay was good, allowing you to live in a residential neighborhood in the middle of the city. For a twenty-five year old, it was impressive. Your ass still hurt from sitting on that spinning chair for too long, though.

Today was no different from the rest of your work days; you arrived to work at 7 AM sharp, your burgundy suit sitting perfectly on you, red lipstick complementing your skin tone, manicure freshly done to match this month's color: red- well, mostly burgundy, but you got the idea. Every month, you made this habit of wearing a different color, and you never strayed from it. The frames of your glasses(prescription or blue light) always matched your nails, that matched your suits, that matched your handbag, that matched you phone case...Well, you got the idea. Some might call you a perfectionist that has weird fixations. As much as you wanted to deny that statement, whenever you passed a mirror and admired yourself, you couldn't help but agree with them.

Sitting down on your spinning chair, the one that you spun on until you got dizzy whenever you were bored out of your mind, you took in the sight of papers you had on your desk and sighed. It wasn't the amount of papers that pissed you off, but the way whoever placed them there did it so carelessly, it messed up your whole desk order. You liked keeping things tidy, in their place. Order meant a lot to you, so whenever someone messed with that, you closed your eyes, jaw tight, counting to ten and then back to one.

You never understood why people weren't paying more attention to their surroundings. There was an empty space at the end of your desk specifically left empty for new papers that would come through for you when you weren't there. The empty space was conveniently placed at the end of the desk, so it could be easier for them to leave it there. But no, they decided to dump it in the middle of the table, on top of other papers that had absolutely nothing to do with what they gave you. That meant more work for you, work you weren't particularly excited for.

It was one thing to go on field missions, retrieving or getting rid of stuff, and a completely another to sort papers all day. "So careless" You mumbled under your breath, lifting some of the papers to look for the ones that weren't related to the newly acquired work.

As you did so, you didn't notice the presence of one of your colleagues, too engrossed in mumbling curses and sorting papers out. When the guest knocked over the wood of the desk, your eyes immediately snapped to the knuckles hitting the table. They trailed up until they rested on the figure of Sherry Birkin, an important informant for field agents. The woman is six years older than you, yet she looks so youthful, you'd guess, between the two of you, she was the younger one.

Her blonde hair was cut in a pixie cut, a hairstyle you think suited her very well, helping her maintain her youthful appearance. She didn't have too much make up on, just a little blush, some mascara and a soft pink lip gloss on her lips. Her white dress shirt had no wrinkles in sight, her black pencil skirt fitting her perfectly.

Seeing you finally noticed her, she crossed her hands across her chest and raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile playing on her lips "What's got you so pissed off today? The day hasn't even started and you are already mad and swearing."

"Was I that loud?" She nodded and you grimaced, but then saw the papers and got mad again. "Someone put a bunch of reports on top of papers that are not related to each other. And now I have to sort them out."

"Why don't you just start writing on them and once you get to the unrelated ones, you just... move on?" She suggested and you shook your head.

"You know me, Sherry. Won't be able to rest until I have them sorted out. Plus, the papers that were here before the new ones were bough had to be given today to Reynolds."

"Speaking of Reynolds, he told me to send you to his office. Got something important to talk with you. Said it's urgent." She winked and left, smiling on her way back to her desk as she heard your loud groan.

"I'll go nuts in this agency." You mumbled and got up, your heels clinking against the tile floor, the loud echo making your colleagues throw you interested glances, although when they saw the look on your face they looked back at their work. It was nothing new to see you(or anyone, really) with a sour expression on your face as you walked towards the director's office, as nobody really liked being called by him. He wasn't a bad boss or anything- on the contrary, with you, he was quite understanding- but he had the tendency of yelling so loud, the whole floor heard his scoldings. Which wasn't the funnest thing.

"Good morning, sir." You greeted as you entered his office, the old man meeting your eyes with a happy nod, a smile plastered on his face. That was strange. He only smiled when he was drunk -which you've only had the honor to see once, when he got promoted to a higher position, closer to the president-, and he certainly never did that during work, let alone on a random morning. He was very professional and stern, the only time you saw him smile was in the photo he had on his desk, a sweet picture of him, his wife and 10 year old daughter taken in a beautiful park.

"Morning, Miss L/n." He gestured to the chair in front of him. "Take a seat, please. I got something to discuss with you."

You looked at him suspiciously, a frown on your face. " Right... If this is about the reports on the Denver facility, I apologize for the wait, I had a small mix up with other reports, but I'll see to-"

He raised a hand and you stop mid explanation, waiting for him to talk. "I don't care about the Denver facilities right now. I have something bigger for you, L/n."

"For me?" You raised an eyebrow and pointed to yourself, not expecting this news so early in the morning.

"Yes, for you. Do you think I've kept you here for so long just to write contracts?" You nodded and he scoffed. "Oh, please. The daughter of America's greatest general is not supposed to be sitting locked up in her office when she has so many useful skills." He boasted and you rolled your eyes.

"Seems like her skills were on stand-by for three years, then. Because I can tell you the exact number of papers I have signed since I came here." You heard a soft scoff from somewhere to the side, and that's the moment you realized it wasn't just you and Reynolds in the room. You turned your head sharply in the direction of the sound and frowned at the unknown man sitting so relaxed in the far corner of the room.

He was tall and muscular, his worked abs visible through his white compression blouse. You wouldn't deny, the man was hot: blond hair cut in a weird way that weirdly suited him, soft jawline and beautiful steel-blue eyes that, when catching the light, would turn sky-blue. He had this carefree energy too, oscillating between amused and tired, a soft smile on his lips. You nodded your head in salute and he responded in kind.

"You surely know or have heard about Leon Kennedy, yes?" Reynolds said and realization hit you. Of course you have heard of him. He was kind of a legend around the office. Whenever the man returned from a mission-which was quite often-everything everyone would talk about was his amazing performance and handsomness. You've never seen him, but by the way everyone-men and women- was talking about him, you expected quite the beauty. Apparently, you were right. He is quite pleasant to look at. Well, maybe more than a little.

"Yes, sir, I have."

"And you have heard of General L/n's daughter, Y/n, haven't you, Kennedy?" Reynolds addressed him now, the blond nodding curtly. "Good then. Means you won't have problems making conversation."

Both you and Leon shared confused glances at his words. "You called us both here to make conversation?" You wanted to laugh in his face, but let him explain first.

Reynolds nodded, all serious and stern again. "Yes. I think it's important for partners to have a good relationship before I send them on deadly missions together. You know, so they won't cut each other's throats before they even get to the location. Or not be able to cooperate and fuck everything up."

"W-what do you mean, partners, sir?" You asked, stumbling over words, confusion fogging your brain.

"I mean exactly what the word means. The missions are getting rougher, Kennedy is getting older. I figured a partner to watch his back would guarantee his return home. And since your whole life you trained for moments like this, I figured now's the time to put your skills to use. As I said, I didn't recruit you for a desk job."

"About that-"

"You can begin to pack your stuff from your desk. I already have someone to take over your job. You'll be moving to the highest floor, Birkin will show you the way. From today on, you and Kennedy will train together, learn each other's weak points and combat styles. I don't need to explain why, do I?"

"No, sir." You said sternly and he nodded proudly.

"That's all, then. Welcome to the DSO, agent L/n."

<<<<<MATERLIST NEXT CHAPTER>>>>>

[kh4l33s11]

Wicked games(by The Weeknd)

Synopsis:Your job at the DSO always consisted of writing a ton of reports and going to boring meetings, the result of which were, of course, more reports to write. You always wanted more action, yet you never got any field work. Not until him, anyway. But one random day, your life changes completely: tasked by the higher ups to join the best agent in counter-bioterrorism wasn't something you thought you would ever achieve, yet here you are. Now training for actual fieldwork doesn't seem so exciting anymore, especially when your new partner is Leon S Kennedy. And the problem is not the proximity from the missions or the training you undergo together, but the way his eyes roam over you, the way he touches you and the feelings he evokes in you.

Contains:Leon in compression shirt and grey sweatpants combo, Leon being sweet, training scene, some tension

WC:2084

~Credits to the rightful owners of the photos~

CHAPTER 2 - Rumour has it(by Adele)

"Since you are going to go on missions pretty often, you will not be required to show up at the office as often as you did before." Sherry explained to you as she showed you around the office on the highest floor. It looked exactly like yours did, the desks just slightly farther apart. Leon followed behind, holding a heavy box filled to the brim with your belongings. He insisted on carrying them for you and you didn't refuse him. You haven't really spoken to him, only introduced yourself and shook hands. He gave you a tight smile after introducing himself, and that was the end of it. You did want to say something, ask about work and training, but Sherry came to you and offered to give you a tour of the highest floor of the DSO building.

"You are free to work from home, just make sure to announce Reynolds or me, so we know you haven't gone M.I.A." She continued and turned her head to give you a smile. You smiled back and nodded curtly in understanding.

"This will be your desk. That one over there is mine." She pointed to the table in front of yours. "And that's Leon's." She glanced at Leon's desk, the one next to yours. Leon placed your box on the empty desk, not a drop of sweat or groan in sight despite it being very heavy. You glanced at how his biceps strained against his shirt, veins poking out on his forearms.

"Tomorrow I want to see you fight. I have no doubt you are good in combat, but I need to know who has my back and how they fight." Leon said, his deep voice leaving no room for contradiction as he finally looked at you, noticing your eyes were already on him. You nodded curtly and he moved to his office, passing you a fleeting glance as he walked past you. He gave you a small smile as he met your eyes, but you could tell the man was tired as hell, so you didn't hold against him how he barely said two words to you since your promotion was announced.

"Welcome to the team, agent L/n." Sherry said with a smile, patting your shoulder and going back to her desk to pick her work back.

---

As Leon requested-or more like ordered-, the next morning you showed up dressed in sport clothes- a black compression tshirt and burgundy sweatpants-, ready to show your partner exactly what you were capable of. Leon was standing in front of you, dressed in a white compression shirt that showed his muscular complexion and grey sweatpants.

It was so early in the morning that it was only the two of you present in the room. That didn't bother you though, on the contrary, it was much better. More space for you to fight.

You stood in front of him, arms held up in front of you, back straight and legs shoulder-width apart. Although your stance was supposed to be tense, Leon couldn't help but notice how relaxed you seemed. That delighted him in a way, although he expected you to be confident. Given your upbringing, it was no wonder you were used to exercises like these.

Meanwhile, you analyzed your partner. His stance was mirroring yours, but you couldn't help but notice the tight set of his jaw, the tense muscles, how his biceps contracted, how his knuckles whitened.

Wasting no time, you threw the first blow, your right fist trying to make contact with his jaw, but his forearm shot up just in time to make contact with you. "You look quite tense. Am I intimidating you, Mr Kennedy?" You said with a smile as you ducked from his retaliation blow, a steady punch to your solar plexus.

The man scoffed and his leg shot up. You managed to dodge the kick to your thigh by spinning out of the way. "Intimidated? By you? Nothing scares me anymore." He said with a smile but it soon faded as your fist almost connected with his nose. He got his head down by millimeters, eyes wide, surprised at how fast you were. One second you were a few meters away from him, the next right into his personal space. "You are fast, Miss L/n."

"Took you by surprise there." You smiled and continued throwing punches and kicks, while all he did was defend himself. "Thought I was a weak little girl that barely knows how to throw a punch?"

"Oh, I could definitely tell by your body language how disciplined you are. Your punches are steady, your back always straight, breathing always even, eyes always focused." He said as he caught hold of your right wrist with his left hand and his right leg hooking to your left calf, tripping you. He managed to catch you just in time before you fell, his other hand shooting up to rest on your waist, preventing you from connecting with the mat. You could feel the heat of his skin through your shirt, how calloused his palms were.

Instinctively, your hands caught onto his shirt for support, and you couldn't help but notice his heavier breathing and the fast pace of his heartbeat under your palm. You smiled smugly, proud you managed to get him tired. "Have I tired you out already, partner?"

"I'm getting old, you know. But by the way I have you held right now, I'll say I'm still in pretty good shape" You hummed in agreement, looking into his eyes. Such a beautiful shade of blue, unlike any you've seen before. "You're getting distracted, partner." He said softly. Your grin stayed on your face as your leg -the one that wasn't entwined with his- shot up, and, since you were in a good mood today, your knee hit his thigh, the joint making contact with the hard muscle of his leg with great force.

His eyes betrayed no surprise, but the way the grip on your wrist loosened was confirmation enough. The moment your partner began to lose his balance and fall backwards, almost taking you with him, you twisted, using the leg he had hooked as an anchor to regain control.

Now standing up, back straight, free from his hold, you looked down at him with a proud smile. It was quite the achievement to trick the Leon S. Kennedy and have him fallen at your feet, looking up at you with something akin to admiration.

"Didn't expect that, huh?" He stood up, hands smoothing over the creases from his sweatpants.

"Should have. I must say, Miss L/n, you do live up to the rumors." He praised and reached his hand in front of him, inviting you to shake it. You eyed it suspiciously, eyes narrowing at the gesture. He didn't lower his hand, waiting for your response. He raised an eyebrow the moment you met his eyes, a teasing smile on his lips.

Sighing, you gave up and accepted his shake, his calloused palm closing against yours. When you met his eyes again, he gave you a firm nod, one that meant understanding and respect. The shake of your hands might not have meant much, but it was a sign of trust, a confirmation you could be partners, have each other's backs. And he appreciated that.

Leon was aware of your trust issues. The military taught you trust is important, and you were perfectly capable of working with partners, but that didn't mean he had your full trust when you barely knew each other for twelve hours. He had to earn it, and this was a good start.

"So what do the rumors say about me?" You said as you caught up to him, a bright smile on your face. Whether it was from the victory of the fight or the curiosity of local gossip, he couldn't tell.

Throwing you a bottle of water and taking one for himself from the fridge in the training room, he took a big gulp, loving the feeling of the cold liquid running down his throat. You did the same, but for some reason you couldn't help but glance at his neck, noticing the drops of sweat on his tanned skin, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed.

Adverting your eyes and putting the cap back on, you looked ahead, waiting for him to answer your question. "That you are an excellent fighter. Very fast and cunning. And an amazing shooter, although I can't confirm nor deny that information. Haven't got the chance to see you with a gun."

You laughed then, the sound echoing in the empty room. "It's better you didn't. I was a nightmare in the army."Leon cocked his head to the side, a small frown on his face, looking at you with a smile."I would hit all the targets before the others even got the chance to pinpoint their positions.. And then came the real missions..."

"Let me guess: headshots." You nodded, a nostalgic smile on your face.

"My colleagues and higher ups were always impressed." You shrugged simply, putting the bottle that you were holding in your hand on the table behind you. "When you have General L/n as a father, headshots are something you should have mastered by the age of five." He smiled at that, taking it as a joke. In truth, it wasn't. "So tell me, Mr Kennedy, did you know of Reynolds's idea? Of giving you a partner?"

"Just call me Leon. I'll get a headache is you call me Mr Kennedy for the rest of my career."

"Got it. Then you shall call me Y/n." You smiled kindly and he returned it, albeit it was more tired.

"To answer your question, I wasn't aware of anything. Reynolds is quite unpredictable. And even if he wanted me to know before telling you, he couldn't have, as I just returned from a mission."

You grimaced at his explanation. "He called you straight to a meeting after a mission? God, he's messy." Your partner nodded in agreement, lips pursed. He didn't have any expectations from the higher ups, but he still seemed disappointed.

"You train outside work, don't you?" You raised an eyebrow sarcastically.

"What gave me away?"

"Well, for starters, you have an office job. Your fighting is too good, too practiced. Plus, I'm assuming, given your upbringing, you still have that habit. You also strike me as the kind of person that chases adrenaline. And since you are not getting it here..." He trailed off and you smiled.

"You are good at reading people. I have a gym in my apartment complex, so yes, I train daily. Helps me let off some steam and take my mind off of things. And, as you said, since I was raised that way, it's quite hard to let go of it." A small pause, and then. "What about you? You are pretty fit yourself, and as often as you go on missions, I don't think that's your only way of keeping in shape. So? What's your secret?"

"Same as yours. My building also has a gym that I tend to spend more time in than in my own bed. Very relaxing out there." He explained and you nodded, expecting such an answer.

"I-" You wanted to ask more questions, keep the conversation going, and by the way he answered, he seemed eager to continue talking, but the door to the training room opened sharply and Sherry popped her head in. Her eyes immediately found Leon, then yours, and she signaled for the two of you to come outside.

You and your partner shared a confused look but complied, walking towards the door. "Hey. I see you are getting along and I'm really glad. Hate to break your bonding time, but I have a message from Reynolds, and you won't like it." She looked at Leon apologetically when she said that, and by the look of disbelief on his face, you knew what this was about. Your heart began thumping loudly in your chest, adrenaline taking over.

"Well, just spill it. We would've found out about it soon anyway." Your partner said softly.

"Tonight, you are leaving for a new mission. Reynolds will give you more details in today's briefing. Don't be late." She looked at Leon pointedly, probably knowing he is keen to being late to things, and left, closing the door behind her in the process.

<<<<<PREVIOUS CHAPTER NEXT CHAPTER>>>>>

[kh4l33s11]

Wicked games(by The Weeknd)

Synopsis:Your job at the DSO always consisted of writing a ton of reports and going to boring meetings, the result of which were, of course, more reports to write. You always wanted more action, yet you never got any field work. Not until him, anyway. But one random day, your life changes completely: tasked by the higher ups to join the best agent in counter-bioterrorism wasn't something you thought you would ever achieve, yet here you are. Now training for actual fieldwork doesn't seem so exciting anymore, especially when your new partner is Leon S Kennedy. And the problem is not the proximity from the missions or the training you undergo together, but the way his eyes roam over you, the way he touches you and the feelings he evokes in you.

Contains: Leon being a thoughtful gentleman, some mentions of struggle with food

WC:1465

~Credits to the rightful owners of the photos~

CHAPTER 7 - Coffee(by Miguel)

You woke up the moment you felt the warm sheets you were laying on. That was strange. You didn't remember being woken up, entering your house, showering, changing into your pajamas and going to sleep. Looking around your surroundings, you frowned in confusion. Your clothes from last night were still on, which made you even more confused. You never sat on your bed with outside clothes. It was gross. Who knew what they touched? How many germs you collected from the chairs you sat on or the walls you leaned on.

Mind now slightly less foggy than before, you looked around and realize you were, indeed, not at home. You sat up, hand on your hips, right leg bouncing, staring into nothingness. That's how Leon found you anyway. You didn't even notice when he came in, so you startled the moment he touched your shoulder to get your attention.

"You alright? Why are you so confused" He asked.

You looked up at him and asked directly. "Where are we? Everything okay?"

He frowned and nodded his head, sitting on the edge of your bed while holding a plastic bag. "Of course, everything's all right. You fell asleep after the mission and I- we encountered an accident on the road and instead of staying in traffic for God knows how many hours, I decided it'd be better if we rested in a motel. Luckily, there was one right around the corner, so here we are. I tried to wake you up so you could walk by yourself, but you were too tired, so I just carried you." He shrugged simply.

"I thought something bad happened."

"Not to us. I'm an amazing driver." You raised an eyebrow, not believing him.

"I've heard otherwise." You sat down next to him and he handed you the bag he was holding. Looking inside, you found some granola bars and bottles of water.

"There's a vending machine downstairs. I didn't know what you liked, but since you were in the army for so long, granola bars seemed a good option."He shrugged and you smiled.

"They were the only option, actually." You handed him a bar and opened the other, taking a bite. "During missions, that's what we mostly ate. My grandma would make them at home and she would add chocolate or strawberries and make them taste better, but most of them were given to us by the army. They were stale, but they did their job." You shrugged simply and crumpled the plastic that covered the granola, throwing it in the trash on the other side of the room. It landed perfectly inside.

"I thought you had rations?" He asked and finished it too, throwing it straight into the bin.

"We did, but would eat it really fast. Most of the times we were told we would be in a two day mission, so we didn't think to keep more food aside. And then that two-day mission turned into a two-week mission, and all we had left were granola bars."

"Couldn't they send you more?"

You shook your head. "We were undercover, and, oftentimes, on a different continent. Nobody knew we were on a mission, so we couldn't exactly go anywhere and ask to be given rations. Going to restaurants or fast foods was considered a distraction, so we weren't allowed to do that either. And it would have been a waste of time anyway. But it's a good thing I was trained to survive days without much food. I managed to ignore most of the cramps and all that stuff. My colleagues, on the other hand..." You trailed off and got up, looking down at him. "Let's get some coffee, I have a feeling I'll need it."

You and Leon walked down the creaky stairs of the motel, clearly old and in need for renovation. He gestured where the vending machine and the coffee maker were and you followed his instructions. He held open the door for you to walk into what was supposed to be a small lobby with a microwave, a fridge, a stove and the vending and coffee machines. You stood in front of the snacks, staring intently at the bags of chips. There weren't many options or flavors, but anything would do. You could feel your stomach rumbling, asking for food.Of course, chips weren't considered food, but it was better than nothing, nonetheless.

"How does this thing work." You mumbled, confused at how you would get anything out of it. "I swear, if it took my money and I'm not getting my chips-" Leon's hand reached towards a certain button that he pressed -a bit harder than you normally would press a button- and there it was! The bag of chips you paid for fell. You reached for it and turned to him with a smile. He was holding two cups of coffee and nodded with a small smile, nodding his head towards the sliding doors that lead outside.

The two of you took a seat at a table for two that was placed right next to the room you came out of. Opening the bag of chips, the smell of chemicals hit your nose. Grimacing, you reached for one chip and, tasting it, your face contorted in a expression akin to disgust. Leon chuckled when he saw it, and you took a gulp of the coffee, not caring about the hotness of it.

"Oh, this tastes like piss. Jesus, this is terrible. The chips are so stale and old and almost...sour? This is not how normal chips taste like. And the coffee. Don't even get me started. God!" Leon handed you your bottle of water, the one he bought for you a few minutes ago, and you drank the remaining water, wanting to get rid of the taste of bad coffee and stale chips from your mouth.

"Don't worry, we'll get in the car and stop at a gas station on the way back, buy some chips that are not as old as these ones, hopefully." He joked and you pressed your lips together.

"I don't think anything could taste as terrible as these." You eyed the coffee and chips on the table in front of you and he chuckled, taking one more sip of his coffee. "You like that?" You eyed the cup in his hand suspiciously, a grimace on your face.

"Hell no, it's terrible. But I'll take any coffee I can get."

"Speaking of, where did you sleep last night? There was only one bed? Please tell me you booked another room and slept on a proper bed and not on that rusty armchair from the room." You pleaded and by the look on his face, he confirmed your fear.

"I actually didn't sleep much. It comes with the job, you know?" He tried to reassure, but realized it sounded even worse, so he just pressed his lips together and looked to the side when you looked at him pointedly.

"I know you hate to hear this, but sleep is very important. Did you know that if you stay 19 hours without sleep, your brain is in the same state as if you were drunk? And given that you 'didn't sleep much', I assume your brain is in an alcoholic coma." He snorted at that and nodded.

"Won't argue with you on this one. It surely feels like it is, anyway." Leon said and drank the last bit of his coffee, then stood up. "If you're done with the chips, let's go and get some proper food."

Twenty minutes later, Leon parked his Porsche at a gas station and you followed after him in the store, looking around the aisles for dried fruits. They were a sweet, healthy snack that you enjoyed. Not really allowed to eat many sweets, not even as a child, you basically grew up with those things.

You smiled when you found a mix of dried strawberries, bananas, berries, pineapple and nuts. You went to the cashier to pay, handing them the bag. As you reached for your card, Leon's arm reached in front of you and he pressed his card to pay.

"Hey!"

"And these coffees." He said to the cashier, lifting the support that held two coffees. He looked down at you, grinning at your protests. "No 'hey's' or 'but's'. It's the company's money, so don't feel bad." He whispered and you took your bag of dried fruits, following him back to the car.

"I have the same card, Kennedy. And I can buy my own coffee and snacks."

"Never said you couldn't. You know, a thanks would have been enough. But thanks for the funfact." He winked and opened the car door for you, holding the cardboard support with the coffees in one hand while holding the door open with the other.

"Thanks."

<<<<<PREVIOUS CHAPTER NEXT CHAPTER>>>>>

[kh4l33s11]

Wicked Games(by The Weeknd)

Synopsis:Your job at the DSO always consisted of writing a ton of reports and going to boring meetings, the result of which were, of course, more reports to write. You always wanted more action, yet you never got any field work. Not until him, anyway. But one random day, your life changes completely: tasked by the higher ups to join the best agent in counter-bioterrorism wasn't something you thought you would ever achieve, yet here you are. Now training for actual fieldwork doesn't seem so exciting anymore, especially when your new partner is Leon S Kennedy. And the problem is not the proximity from the missions or the training you undergo together, but the way his eyes roam over you, the way he touches you and the feelings he evokes in you.

Contains: small descriptions of RE-specific gore

WC:1523

~Credits to the rightful owners of the photos~

CHAPTER 4 - I'll be there(by The Jackson 5)

The drive to Pittsburgh was filled with idle conversation and old rock music that played in the background. Leon answered all of your questions calmly, a small, soft smile playing on his lips when you gasped dramatically at something he said. You, on the other hand, answered all of his questions with excitement, so eager to tell him about your adventures from your army days, because boy, you had a lot to tell. Leon noticed the way your eyes dilated when you talked about action and mission, how you got lost in thought and how you tried to hold yourself back from sounding too childish, trying to act composed. He could see all of it, and all it did was make him happy that you still managed to find joy in such things.

He almost saw himself in you, the younger, more innocent version of him. The eager-to-help cop that would try to save everyone. The foolish boy that would have gotten himself killed if it meant saving someone else. That didn't mean that he saw you like an exact replica of his younger self. Oh no. He knew if he got the chance to meet you years ago, when he was around your age, you would have terrified him. You didn't give him the feeling of recklessly giving up your life for someone else. It sounded cold, but beneath that excited, talkative exterior he had gotten used to over the past three hours and counting, he remembered your encounter this morning. The way you fought, so calculated and careful. The way your eyes roamed, assessing for any threats efficiently. The way you kicked and punched him with so much force, he still felt aches in some spots hours later. No, younger him would have scared him as much as it would have intrigued him. Hell, you intrigued him even now, at his big age.

"What's your favorite weapon?" You asked, glancing at him and then looking back at the road. Your relationship with Leon was now so normal, it felt almost familiar. As if you have known each other for decades, not hours. You loved asking questions and learning his take on things, or simply listening to him talk. He had this calming energy about him that simply relaxed you too. Although you knew he was anything but relaxed. The closer you were to Pittsburgh, the tenser his shoulders became. And the more nervous he became, the more you made it your mission to have him calm down. You were sure he had no problem handling the mission by himself, but, from what you've learned, he wasn't used to having a partner, so you had no idea how he would react with you around when the action started and you had to shoot zombies and defend yourselves.

"I prefer handguns. They are easier to hold. But marksmans aren't too bad either. More damage, although I can't move as well as I do with a gun."

"You a show off?" You asked teasingly, a smile on your lips, and he gave you a smug grin in return. "No way! You actually are." You gasped dramatically and he laughed, a low, velvety sound. "Let me guess your favorite move." You squinted your eyes as if that would help you get a better read on him. He looked into your eyes, an eyebrow raised teasingly. "Backflips." You laughed at the evident shock on his face, the man not able to hide it fast enough without you noticing. "Oh my god, I actually got it right."

"Of course you did. You are pretty good at reading people, might I say." He praised and you smiled shyly, mumbling a quiet 'thanks'. He smiled teasingly at the evident embarrassment, but didn't comment on it, like the gentleman he was.

Recovering from your shyness, you stared ahead in silence, thinking of new questions to ask. You hummed along the song playing on the radio, Hide your heart by KISS filling the silence of the car. Without realizing it, you thrummed your fingers on your knee, following the rhythm of the bass. At the same time, Leon, now allowing worrying thoughts to enter his mind, did the same thing. His fingers tapped the steering wheel in tune with the drums as he looked ahead in concentration, thinking of all the ways the mission could go wrong.

It was kind of a ritual of his that he had developed over the years. He would allow himself 5 minutes where he was free to think up every bad scenario on the way to the mission. The premature worrying prevented him from having stressing thoughts pop up in his mind during the mission and ruining everything.

"How do you cope with everything?" You asked him after a while, breaking him away from his thoughts.

"I don't have a treatment for that. I just... Push it to the back of my head." He shrugged simply and you frowned.

"Doesn't bottling it up make it...worse?" You asked, somewhat hesitantly.

Leon nodded softly, meeting your eyes for a few seconds and then focusing them back on the road. "It does. It makes the nightmares more terrifying. But I can't allow them to take over my mind. I know they'll eat me alive if I let those thoughts creep into my mind, I'll not be able to handle it." He explained, voice sincere, almost raw with vulnerability. You gulped at the confession, not knowing how to respond. Dealing with so much death, so often and for so long was not something many could handle. His composure was admirable, albeit you were sure he had other ways to cope with his thoughts than just ignoring them.

You didn't have his years of work, as you were way younger than him and with much less experience, but you knew this way of 'coping' wasn't healthy. "Look, if it ever gets too much...You can always talk about it. I know it might sound weird since you barely know me and all, but sometimes talking to a stranger might feel better than talking to someone you know." You said simply, although your heart was beating in nervousness. It all faded away the moment you glanced at him and saw his smile. You would have missed it if it weren't for your anxiousness at his reaction that made your observation skills much more heightened.

"Thanks, Y/n. That'll be nice." He said. In truth, he did see it as a nice gesture. Not many people wanted to just...listen to him talk. Most of the people he met were only interested in his achievements, always asking about his techniques and praising him, but they never bothered to ask if he was alright. To hear that he had someone he could share even a sliver of his worries with, someone that will listen and, why not, even understand, made him feel happier. "If you ever have anything that bothers you, feel free to talk to me about it too. It's only fair I repay your kind service of listening to my boring rant with a similar gesture."

He meant it. Truly. It wasn't just the idea of doing the same thing because he felt indebted but more so the desire to get to know you better. Everything he knew about you was things he had heard from other people, as well as some slight information about your upbringing and things he could observe by himself. But that wasn't enough to fully get to know someone. And since you were about to be his partner until, probably, his retirement, a certain type of relationship needed to be built. He knew it would take time, but he was open to try, although, when he thought about it more, he knew he might regret it. Getting to know you would surely make him fond of you, which couldn't bode well in the context of his job. You were killing zombies, for fucks sake! Anything could go wrong at any time. He had lost many people that he cared for, he didn't wants the list of names to become bigger.

"I'll take note of that, partner." You winked and he chuckled, but the laugh caught in his throat the moment the headlights caught onto a hunched, deformed silhouette in the dark. He hit the breaks aggressively, his arm reaching out towards you to stop you from hitting your body from the sudden stop.

When the creature hissed loudly, turning it's face towards the car, you gasped. It looked terrifying, with gray skin, large lumps that were on the verge of popping and deformed features. You manage to compose yourself in time, drawing out the gun from your hostler, action which Leon shook his head at. You put the weapon back and nodded. "Right. The sound might attract other zombies from the vicinity."

Leon nodded approvingly and said in a sort of sarcastic tone."Well, it looks like our mission started earlier than planned. Welcome to the real DSO, Y/n. You are going to have a hell of a first day."

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