BRING ME TO LIFE — leon kennedy
❝ 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘢𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘥 ❞
SYNOPSIS — the year of 2004 is quite eventful for leon, saving the president's daughter and all. lucky for him, he gets some time off to relax and decides to go back to his roots, the midwest. on his way to buy some new strings for his guitar, he runs into you, the childhood best friend he left behind.
GENRE — romance, fluff, suggestive but not smut, slight angst but overall happier (you're welcome)
PAIRINGS — post re4! emo! guitarist! leon kennedy x fem! childhood best friend! artist! reader
WARNINGS — some cursing, suggestive material (making out, he puts you on the counter, kissing with TONGUE? nothing crazy), mentions of underaged drinking (don't do it), just you acting horny for leon lowkey (w.c. - 4.3k)
A/N — in a surprising turn of events, emo leon won the poll! i haven't written a drabble for him as an emo, but it is literally canon that leon kennedy is a midwest emo so of course i have to honor him as such. and this is not an angsty one, so enjoy (for now) :3 this is really just me indulging in my emo leon fantasy
"You've gotta be kidding me..."
Leon muttered under his breath as the high pitching twing sounded through the hollow interior of his old worn down garage.
Of course as soon as he sits down the tune the guitar he hasn't touched in over two years, he forgets just how long it's been since he last changed the strings. And of course, how to properly tune them. It feels like he's gone tone deaf in the time he's been working.
He sighed, the breath escaping from his mouth and condensing in the chilly fall air. The thick flannel he'd worn probably a thousand times by now still kept him warm, the old worn boots together enough to keep the puddles from seeping into his socks.
How ironic was it that even when he was no longer living on the streets he still came back to his old tattered clothes?
Pulling his keys from his pocket, he set the guitar gently against the stand and pulled the old black beanie over his head.
It was refreshing to have clothes to wear that weren't made to be tactical gear. The weight seemed to lift off his shoulders, no longer surrounded by the crippled bodies of the undead that trampled over each other trying to reach him.
The metal clanging of the garage panels echoed in the damp alley as he gently pulled the door to the ground, latching it with the old tarnished key that hung from his keychain.
A low whistle resounded from his lips as they curved into a small smirk, catching sight of his dad's old cruiser, freshly waxed and buffed. Leon had spent all day yesterday fixing up the interior and cleaning it to make sure it was ready for a ride.
"How 'bout we go for a spin?"
The engine roared to life, purring as he slipped on his chunky pair of sunglasses and popped a piece of gum into his mouth.
He must have caught the eye of at least twenty people as he sped down the paved roads, blonde fringe tugging. Leon was as much of an enigma in his hometown as he was in the field, and it didn't help that his reputation for trouble proceeded him.
A small dingy corner store came into view, an old flashing sign in the window that had burnt out on the "n" of open, as it had been for the past fifteen years.
Turning off the car and stepping out, Leon slid the glasses off of his face and tucked them into his back pocket. A familiar silhouette flitted around inside the shop, bringing a small smile to his face.
Music vibrated throughout the small store as he entered, the quiet bell unheard by the cashier who was busy lightly banging his head to the bass as he reorganized a shelf display.
Leon took his time meandering through the store, weaving through racks of musical supplies, tuners, mouthpieces, cleaning tools, none of what he was actually there for.
Cases of displayed instruments glittered under the low light, colorful electric guitars, bass guitars, a keyboard, some sort of brass he wasn't sure he could name and more. Seeing the price tags made him glad he had made friends with the owner long before they became the only music shop in town.
At last a small rotating case came into his view, tucked away into the back corner of the store, adorned with a variety of prepackaged strings.
While he didn't care much for most things he owned, sure they were going to tarnish or tear or get lost in the heat of a fight with the dead, he liked to take care of his guitar.
His fingers just barely traced the edge of one of the packages when another hand reached beside him, brushing against his skin.
He turned his head just slightly, expecting to find some stranger he would quietly forget, and instead, he saw you.
You had changed.
No longer did you had the bright purple hair you straightened over your eyes every day before school, no longer did you have the striped pink and black sleeves you wore under your band tees, no longer did you have the worn out black converse covered in faded black ink scribbles.
Instead, your hair had grown out to the natural color and texture, your sleeves just black now and your converse white, though still clearly loved.
"Hey."
His own voice surprised him, the greeting coming out before he even thought it through.
You peeked at him out of the corner of your eye at first, a habit of yours. It made his heart beat louder when you turned towards him, recognition flickering across your features.
"Leon? Leon Kennedy?"
Unconsciously a smile came to his lips, the lip piercing slightly tugging as he tried to prevent himself from grinning like a mad man. He turned his head and blinked at the ground, trying to keep himself together.
You, on the other hand, were stunned, too shocked to let the smile show on your face. After all, it had been years since you'd seen Leon, and you hadn't exactly left on good terms.
Seeing him in the flesh, in the same old flannel, with the same perfect smile, made your heart pick up in the same way it did before you parted ways.
Taking a moment to look him over, to see if he'd sustained any injuries, like the worrier you were, you realized he wasn't exactly the same as he was before. Though not visible under his flannel, you could tell that his shoulders had gotten wider, chest had gotten firmer, his thighs filling his jeans in a way they didn't before. It seemed being a police officer changed him more than you'd thought.
"How, uh.. How have you been?"
His question made you turn your attention back to his face, suddenly aware that you had been checking him out not-so-subtly.
"I've been good, yeah I've uh.. I've been working in my studio. Just.. making stuff."
The worlds stumbled out of your mouth like you were drunk and trying to find your way through you living room to the bathroom. Inside, your heart was pounding and your mind was racing, eyes ever so often glancing towards the contained muscles under his clothes. God, you felt like a weirdo. Who just stares at the long lost friend they haven't seen in ten years?
"I'm glad. You always loved that kind of stuff." He said tenderly.
A tenderness seeped through his voice, warm and thick like honey and tea. It made you blink as you tore your gaze from the small smile that had spread across his lips.
"I was just grabbing this for my mom. Said one of the students broke the entire set."
The plastic crinkled in your hands as you grabbed the bag of guitar strings, this time without Leon's hand beside yours.
He laughed, a quiet laugh that filled your ears melodiously, causing a smile of your own to slowly take shape.
"Yeah, I bet she's got her hands full. Didn't know they kept teaching guitar after my performance in junior year."
Memories of the horrified parents faced flashed through your mind, the screeching of the electric guitar feedback filling the auditorium as Leon shouted the lyrics of his favorite song at the time. It seemed screamo music wasn't popular among parents, especially when it was accompanied by bright green streaks in his hair and a nose piercing he had done with your supervision in his garage.
"I remember the principle had changed the rules the year after that."
The two of you laughed quietly together.
Instead of the initial awkward air that surrounded the two of you like a bubble, the tension settled into a synchronization the two of you had, unlike any other relationship in your life.
"Are you playing again?"
Leon glanced back at the string rack, sheepishly reaching out to take the packet he had been reaching for as he nodded.
He remembered how much you loved when he played, how you would beg him to learn your favorite songs so you could hear him play them, how you encouraged him to apply for his dream university to study music. He also remembered how bitterly things had been left, things said that day that could never be undone.
"Yeah, it's been a while. I have some time off so I wanted to pick it up again. Seems I'm a little rusty."
You nodded, glancing at his faced another time. Would he mind if you asked him out to dinner? To catch up, for old time's sake? Maybe he would offer to play his guitar for you,
"Would you-"
"Did you wanna-"
Both of you stared at each other, his pure blue eyes piercing your own as you both stilled, waiting for the other one to speak.
"You can.. go ahead."
Embarrassment laced your words, suddenly shy with the change in atmosphere. It was like all the courage you had worked up was gone within an instant.
He wasn't doing any better.
Would it be too forward for him to ask you on a date? It wasn't like he was going to remain here forever, but you had a life here and he couldn't ask you to wait for him to come back, after months at a time. If you knew what he had been up to, would you worry about him? Lecture him about his future, let the tears glisten in your eyes again as you shut him out?
"I was wondering if you would want to catch up. It's just.. been while."
God, how much more like a loser could he sound?
He was smooth, he knew he was, he had sweet-talked many women for the sake of a mission or just to fill the emptiness his job had left behind. But you, you were different than them. You knew him in a way no one else ever would.
A small smile came over your face, and you shuffled in place, nodding your head. "That sounds nice."
ᡕᠵデᡁ᠊╾━
It had been nearly two hours by the time you were satisfied with your appearance for the night, telling yourself over and over again, it's just Leon, why be nervous?
You had showered to make sure there was no paint or clay or glue residue anywhere, had styled your hair to compliment the various options of jewelry you had to chose from, had carefully picked out the old pair of jeans that fit in all the right places, and it once again left you wondering, why are you doing all of this for Leon?
Tapping your foot anxiously against the wood floor of your kitchen as you sat at the old dining table you had just restored, you recounted the events before Leon left.
The two of you were freshly nineteen, and he had just swiped a couple of bottles of hard liquor for the two of you to celebrate together, the same way you did everything else.
You were four drinks in, body heating up as you danced the the loud music that echoed throughout his garage, the bottle neck tight in your grasp as you went to pour yourself another one.
All of a sudden Leon was shouting, his eyes still closed the music still playing, "I'm gonna be a cop!"
It was like the music had silenced itself after that, so sobered up that you might not have had a sip of alcohol in your life. A coldness washed over your body as Leon continued to bang his head and play an air-guitar as he clenched his eyes shut.
"What are you talking about?" you shouted back.
Your voice had been shaking, the music penetrating your very flesh as your body pumped with adrenaline.
He had gone on to give some explanation you hadn't cared to hear in the moment, and you had stormed over to the stereo to turn it off. You had shouted some things about his future, about how he didn't need to conform, about how he was throwing his life away. He had argued back, said you didn't know anything, said you'd fail as an artist.
Back and forth, you threw verbal punches, getting more and more intense until you couldn't hold back the tears anymore and left.
For two weeks after that he would text you every day, trying to get you to forgive him, to make you understand.
Instead, you watched his graduation on the news, the ticket tucked away in the small unopened envelop he had left at your door. Two years later he had still wanted you there.
It was hard to move on from the conversation, to move past the hurt and the guilt and the aching gap he had left in your life, a thorn in your side that never ached. It was lonely now, and suddenly you were doing things alone that he would always be there for.
Then years passed, and the wound closed, but the ache never dulled. Now he was back, and it was like everything made sense again.
A quiet knock at your door drew your attention, all but jumping to your feet as you made your way over to open it.
Leon's face greeted you as you opened the door, a small smile and a cheap bouquet in his hands paired with a bottle of wine. The smell of his cologne filled your nose, soft and sultry, something you knew a boy, no, man, like Leon would wear.
Swallowing thickly, you moved aside to let him step in, holding your breath as his large frame brushed past you.
This time he was wearing a leather jacket, a pair of denim jeans and those old boots he wore like he worked on a farm. He picked them up when he worked a summer on a ranch and has kept replacing them since.
"Sorry they didn't have anything fancy, but I didn't want to come empty handed."
Leon, ever so thoughtful, and ever so attractive.
He looked even more handsome as you looked at him again, blonde hair touching the tips of his eyelashes, the small silver jewelry of his lip stud glimmering under the soft incandescent lights of you home, his wrist adorned with leather bracelets and fingers littered with silver rings.
Maybe it was the time apart, maybe it was the feelings that never went away, or maybe Leon sprayed some sort of aphrodisiac in the air, but you couldn't help but feel shy around him.
Even now it felt like he towered over you, regardless of the height difference between the two of you.
"Well, it's nothing fancy but I made dinner.. if you're hungry, you don't have to eat it."
You ushered Leon into the dining room, letting him set the bottle of wine down as you stepped into the kitchen to grab some glasses. He followed soon after, making a show as he smelled the air and let out a sigh as he stepped up to the stove.
"All this for little ol' me?" He teased.
His voice had dropped just a tinge, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he gazed up at you, his head tilted down just slightly from his previous peeking into the pot.
A fire lit in the pit of your stomach, twisting as you hurried to turn around and clumsily grab out the wine glasses.
"Of course it's all for you," you murmured.
The room filled with silence as you pulled out a plate for Leon, allowing him to fill both your plates with the pasta you had worked quickly on as soon as you had finished getting ready.
By the time you had sat down at the table, after he had made sure to pull your chair out for you and pour you a glass, the conversation had once again resumed. You had caught him up on your life, as you had opened your own art studio where you displayed your work and allowed people to take classes, told him about your successes and failures, friends you had lost and found, stories that made you laugh even to this day.
He listened attentively, quietly reacting with his eyebrows and laughing under his breath as he ate slowly. Every time you thought you were finished with a story, he would say something that stirred up something else entirely.
Leon was good at that, showing that he cared about what you had to say.
The laugh finally died in your throat, food long gone as your empty plates laid stacked on the other side of the table, the bottom of your second glass nearly bare.
"Okay, I feel like we've only talked about me. Tell me about your life! You're a cop, it must be crazy right?"
He took a small sip from his own glass, nodding his head and turning his head away as he answered.
"Yeah, it's really crazy out there."
You waited for him to continue, to dive into stories of crazy people or crazy crime, to admit that despite his career he still behaved like the delinquent he was at heart.
"So.. any stories? I mean, I feel like you know everything significant that's happened to me in the past eight years. You've got to have something to tell me."
Silence ensued once more, and the smile slowly slid from your face.
Leon was stoic as he finished the rest of his glass, setting it down gently on the table as he refused to meet your gaze.
He had been the one to ask to catch up. He had been the one to come over, to bring flowers and wine, to act so interested in you and your life. Why was he shutting you out now? What was the point of any of this, of doing your makeup and spraying your favorite perfume, if he was going to pretend like he had nothing to say to you?
Maybe it was the wine that emboldened you, a short laugh leaving your mouth as you moved to grab the plates, standing to take them into the kitchen.
"Right, forgot. You don't have anything to say to me."
You could hear Leon's chair scrape against the floor as you walked into the kitchen, his footsteps following you, still silent.
Leon was trying to find the words, the magic that would make you understand what he had gone through. How was he meant to tell you the truth? That he had never been a cop, first off, and that he had spent years fighting for the safety of civilians as a government employee? Some of his work included details you might not even be allowed to know, but he wanted to tell you, more than anything. He wanted you to know everything about him, just like you had before.
"I'm sorry it's just.."
He trailed off, only the sound of running water filling the much too big room as you began washing off the dishes to try and avoid whatever he had to say.
After a moment, you couldn't keep the words in as they tumbled out.
"Why did you even come over Leon?"
Only the quiet clinking of the plates responded.
It wasn't until you had set the dishes on the drying rack, after you had washed and dried your own hands, that Leon had something to say.
"I needed to see you. I miss you."
You clenched your eyes shut.
How could he say these things so callously? Did he even know what those words meant to you, how you were going to take them regardless of how he meant them? Maybe he planned on toying with you until he left once more, leaving you heartbroken just like you were before.
"Don't get me started Leon."
You threw the rag you had used to dry your hands onto the counter top, ready to storm out of the room and demand he be on his way until his hand wrapped around your arm, warm and strong.
He had turned you around with ease, backing you against the countertop as he stepped forward, so close he could lean forward and his body would mold with yours. His breath fanned over your ear, tilting his head down as he inched closer, pressing his forehead gently against your own.
"I can't help myself when I'm with you. You're even more beautiful than the day I lost you."
Against your own will, your lip began to wobble, tears stinging your eyes at his confession.
His voice, low and warm, reverberating in his chest in a way that you could almost feel it on your skin.
"Leon.." you whispered.
For a moment he stilled, eyes closing as he breathed in your scent, hands coming to rest against the counter behind you, trapping you in his arms without actually touching you.
"If I told you everything, would you still stay with me? Would you wait for me?"
His body heat was radiating so closely to you, the wine-scented breath fanning across your face, his eyes desperately searching yours for an answer, some indication that he wasn't about to break his own heart, and yours, for a second time.
After a long tense moment, you nodded.
Like the wave crashes upon a beach, his lips crash upon your own, his hand gingerly reaching up to cup your cheek.
The sensation brings a sense of euphoria you had been chasing for years, a type of satisfaction that rarely came from completely projects, and a fire that you had never felt from any other person before him.
You meet his fervor eagerly, reaching up to wrap your hands around his neck, one hand gently entangling in his blonde hair.
His lips are chasing yours after every breath, his touch igniting along your skin as his other hand lands on your waist, shuffling forward. He was so close you could feel his every inhale, uneven and shaking as his chest heaved.
The closeness intensified his grasp, his fingers digging into your side as you sighed into him, pressing yourself against his chest.
Both of you parted only for a moment, his blue eyes hazy and lidded, until he dove back down once more to capture your lips in his own, the jewelry of his lip piercing bumping against you.
Your heart was pounding in your ears, goosebumps lining your skin as you felt his hands slide against your body, his hand shifting from your face to entangle in your hair, becoming more urgent as he tried to get even closer to you.
A thought occurred to you, fleeting and sudden, but as if he caught it himself, he grabbed your hips and lifted you, setting you down atop the counter.
A gasp left your mouth as he greedily kissed you once more, his hands sliding up and down your thighs. You felt your skin heat up more and more, his hands tugging and grabbing and caressing you with each passing moment.
For a moment you were sixteen again, sitting awkwardly with Leon on his couch, braces lining his teeth, face red and flushed as you insisted on his help. You were desperate to avoid the embarrassment of a first kiss, and he had so kindly offered, ignoring the butterflies that swarmed in his stomach the second you started leaning in.
Except, the two of you weren't sixteen anymore, and his chest was solid as you ran your hands down his front, his shoulders strong, his biceps unwavering. Everything about Leon was just so..
Unexpectedly, his tongue ran smoothly along your lips, glossy with exchanged saliva. All but too eagerly you parted your lips for him, trying to concentrate as a lustful haze settled in.
The sensation of warm metal danced pleasantly against your tongue, eliciting a sigh of pleasure from you as you leaned into him, tasting him.
As soon as the sound left your mouth, Leon had to tear himself from you, breath labored, lips swollen. He shuddered against your for a moment, leaning in ever so slightly to brush his lips against you own.
His warm breath fanned over your face as he turned his head, dipping down to rest his forehead against your shoulder.
Your body was still thrumming with the sensation of Leon, the taste of him lingering in your mouth, the sight of his desire painted across his face, the feeling of his fingers tracing up and down your sides.
"We can't do it like this.." he murmured, voice husky.
You nodded, taking a moment to catch your breath as your heart hammered in your chest.
He was right.
He promised he would tell you everything, and he was going to deliver on that before he got to go any further. You would not be painted a fool by him.
The silence that followed was peaceful and still, at some point your hands had once again threaded through his hair, his hands resting comfortably atop your upper thighs.
"I'm sorry. For everything."
You hummed, turning to place a kiss atop his head.
"Me too."
Slowly he began to pull away, straightening his back and coming to stand in front of you once more. A small smile came to his face as he reached out to trace the back of his hand over your cheek.
"Do you remember what your favorite song was back in high school? The one you made me learn so you could sing along to it?"
You hummed for a moment, a vague melody playing in your head as you nodded.
"Why don't you let me play it for you? I bought new strings and everything."
A small laugh left your mouth, a lightness in your chest, a spot where an ache once was filled with Leon Kennedy.
"I would like that very much."
ᡕᠵデᡁ᠊╾━
