Leon doesn’t mind late nights. He doesn’t mind if you need a 2am snack. If anything, he’s going to take that opportunity to dance with you in the kitchen while you think about what snack sounds good to you. If you want, he’d even offer input while dancing around with you.
“Are you scared?”
“Terrified.” He says it without hesitation, no embarrassment or need to embellish some masculine condition. You’re a little jealous of that, the way he’s cemented in his sense of self. His softness is not an obstacle, but a compliment to his character.
“But you didn’t hesitate.”
“I’m a cop, it’s kind of my job.”
“Rookie cop.” You mutter, already sobering from your momentary panic.
“But I didn’t hesitate.”
Summary: you've made it to the station, but in your journey to find one redfield you've lost the other. the raccoon city police department is one big escape room, everything is trying to eat you, leon thinks you're insane, and you almost get hit by a helicopter. the good news is, the undead throw you and leon a going away party and it's a blast!
Warnings: canon typical violence, language, angst?, fear, anxiety, re2 spoilers (if that's a thing atp), some jumping around the gameplay for the sake of moving the story along
a/n: welcome to chapter 1! it's a super fun challenge to write a fic where there are only 2 people most of the time, they're in one location, and you're working from a video game and a bunch of little puzzles. it's also interesting because i'm trying to get back into the groove of this kind of writing.
THAT BEING SAID i just want to disclaim that i removed a lot of the random puzzles and condensed this first chapter down since all if not most of you have played/watched playthroughs of the game. i've also altered some things just slightly to fit the story more (by things i mean how certain goals are met, etc...). As always, comments and feedback are appreciated, but i hope you guys enjoy!
Word Count: 10.3k
prologue ~ don't panic ~ confidential files ~
Your terror finds you without restraint striding warily toward the Raccoon City Police Department.
The silence once you breach the station doors is deafening. Likened to something hollow, yet unimaginably heavy. Not the chaos of a city. No panicked bodies thrashing amidst the mass hysteria of man versus something nestled horrifically between creature and human error. It manages to clear your head, but only marginally. Most of your being rests uncomfortably in the trenches of disquiet, fat globs of trepidation opposing your limbs and dampening your skin.
“Hello…? Is anybody here?” The room glows pale, the sudden brightness glares harsh against your retinas. The main hall is deserted, Leon’s voice bounces off the high ceilings, echoing back to make you flinch. You’re boxed in from either side, a pair of double stairs lead to a second floor, but you’re not sure it’s something you’re eager to explore just yet.
You wander further into the station while Leon scans feather light and focused.
There’s a computer situated behind the front desk, the station’s cameras still in working condition. You flip through, the slight tremor in your hand demanding more concentration than usual. Most of the footage is dusk, bodies scattered throughout, some moving in that freshly familiar way composed of jerky and disjointed limbs.
Leon approaches, gun lowered, safe for now. His hand catches at the nape of his neck, looking at the balconies cresting above you. “There has to be someone here…”
You flip to the next camera, your finger poised to bypass redundancy. Except it’s not. You freeze. A cop, living, breathing, human, is shooting at an infected. “Here!”
Leon rounds the counter, eyes locked on the screen. “Not good.”
“David! Marvin! You there!? I found a way out! It’s in here! Send reinforcements! East Hallway!” The officer cries, his speech is muffled and breathless, indicative of his struggle, words half masked by the shots he fires off every few steps.
Moving away from the screen you scan the walls, covered in plaques and cracked frames. You spot it on the far end, in near perfect condition. A map of the station’s first floor.
“Ok…I gotta find that guy. Jesus…” You’re staggered a moment, in awe of the certainty in his tone. After everything you’ve been through the past hour Leon is unwavering in his purpose. It strengthens something in your own chest, unwilling to let him bear the burden alone. There's a paperweight unmoved on the corner of the desk, it’s heavy in your hands when you pick it up and scale the length of the room. “What are you—?”
“The room is clear?”
“Yeah…I mean I think so. I didn’t see anyone or…thing.” It’s confirmation enough, both hands making an effort to swing the weight over your head with enough force to stick the landing when you hurl it toward the framed map. The sound of shattering glass echoes in the large hall. Your eyes shutter, stomach hitching despite Leon’s all-clear. Careful of the shards littering the ground, you snatch the floorplans up and spread them atop the desk, fingers skimming to the East Hallway.
“If we can make it here we can save him, find Claire, and get the hell out of here.”
“Right. But you should stay here.” Leon’s posture straightens, shoulders fully broadened like there’s something to prove. Somehow you know he doesn’t mean it that way, even as he leaves you trailing after him dumbfounded. He strolls his way to the steel door, kneeling with his flashlight tucked in his palm, scanning back and forth between the open sliver at the bottom. You hear something wet, and the only light filtering through is an emergency red.
“Tight squeeze?” You scoff, arms crossing at your chest. If he catches the bite in your tone Leon doesn’t let on when he sits up, tugging lightly on the door to see if it might budge.
“I can manage.”
“Leon, I know you’re trying to be all friendly neighborhood rookie right now, but going in there alone is stupid. We don’t know how many of those things are here.”
“Someone has to and I’m not putting you in danger again. It's my job to keep you safe.” He stands, making sure his weapon is secure, pulling at the sleeves of his shirt to minimize the amount of skin on display. “Besides, I’m the only one with a weapon and it'll be a lot harder protecting the both of us. You just stay here and look out for any more survivors. I’ll be back soon.”
He’s right, but some phantom attachment is gnawing at the tissue pushing against your teeth. You don’t want him to leave you alone and you don’t want to sit here wondering if he’ll make it back alive. It feels helpless and pitiful.
You promised to keep him safe too.
“Fine. But I’m gonna look around more, see if there’s anything to help us out.” You compromise, motioning toward the mess of the large hall.
“Okay…just stay out of trouble.” You smile just a little at that, head tilting, nose scrunching amidst the irony of it. That fate had twisted like a knife and left you both gushing and grasping hopelessly at the gaping wound of Raccoon City, its creation a metamorphose of its own unique gore.
“A little late for that, Officer Kennedy, don’t you think?” His cheeks tinge at the honorific and you realize he’s probably never been called that. Not by anyone other than sergeants and lieutenants, and even then it's more likely that it was scraped from the back of their throats and spit at him, unsavory and built to intimidate.
“Yeah, I guess so.”
“Be safe, Leon. And good luck.” Momentarily he shoves the flashlight between his teeth and tightens his hold on his handgun. He maneuvers himself beneath the door, a tight fit indeed, but he’s able to slip through with minimal effort.
“I’ll be back soon.” Are his last words. You crouch near the door, close enough that you can hear his wet footsteps slowly sloshing toward the East Hallway. You strain to hear, only falling away when fear licks at you like a sharp wind in the shift to silence.
~*~
For an alleged safe-zone, you don’t find much in the wreckage of the main hall.
There’s a makeshift first aid station behind the front desk, two or three beds and a sitting area. You scrape together bandages and some antiseptic, but it’s otherwise pilfered through. There’s a crate nestled against the sofa cushions, you make a note to check in a moment, your eyes suddenly drawn to the large statue in the center of the hall.
It doesn’t fit, not anymore. Its nature is grandiose, the woman depicted something of a goddess. You imagine it was a beacon of hope before there was none left, the white stone feeling rough where you drag your palm near the base. You follow her stature toward the upper level, though you remain faithful to the center of the hall. There’s another statue, this one a lion, a strange configuration of symbols arranged in three slots at the helm, like some sort of message or puzzle.
Your fingers push at them halfheartedly, glancing childlike when you hear an ancient shift, something like the scraping of old cogs. You’re convinced it means something, a hopeful start sitting crestfallen in your chest when it reveals nothing further.
Your hands fall from the mammalian bust, startled by a door creaking open down the hall of the second floor. You stumble back, looking around for something to defend yourself, your mind failing to register the cohesion of the movements, still stumbling but not nearly as clumsily as someone who wants to sink their teeth into you.
“Relax, I’m not one of them. Not yet anyway.” The man grunts, one of his hands clutched to his side, blood fresh and sticky coating his skin. Still you move back half a step, unsure of his sudden appearance. “Lieutenant Branagh, RPD.”
“Where is everyone else?” The question is stupid, you know it when it coats your tongue, but you hope he’ll craft something like hope, tell you there’s safety and he can guide you to it. He must see it too, his eyes softening even in the midst of his own discomfort.
“I imagine you met them on your way in. Some version of them at least.” He shuffles down the rest of the stairs, glancing toward the front of the station. “You make it here on your own?”
“No, I came into town with my friend, but we got separated. I’m actually with another cop.” He takes another look around the hall, likely surveying whether he’s found you of sound mind. “Oh! He’s heading toward the East Hallway, we saw an officer on the cameras there who needed help. Said he had a way out.”
“That’ll be Elliot.” He sighs, limping toward the front desk. “Well…?” He looks at you, imploring some form of identification.
“Y/n.”
“Well, Y/n, I reckon we better board up this door. Stop any more of those things from getting inside.” You think of Claire, your teeth worrying your bottom lip.
“Lieutenant, isn’t the gate out front enough? My friend is supposed to be meeting us here, I don’t want to lock her out.”
“I’d rather have as much distance between us and them as possible. If…–when your friend makes it here we’ll cross that bridge. But for now, I need you to help me fortify that door.” You nod, still unsure but unwilling to make enemies before you know what you’re up against. “And, kid? Call me Marvin. I’d say until we get this shit figured out we’re all on equal footing.”
Marvin helps you as much as he can, which isn’t a lot with the wound in his side. You feel rude to ask, but you can surmise the sickly pallor to his skin is indication enough of what occurred and what’s to come. You stack chairs and crates, placing them with strategy, ensuring your geometry won’t crumble from the faintest of blows to the station doors. You’re just finishing up when you hear Leon, his body resurfacing through the bottom of the door.
“Jesus! They’re everywhere! Come on! Goddammit! Watch out!” You run over to help him, Marvin gets there just a beat before you, using what little strength he has left to pull Leon through the door.
“Got it! You’re safe…for now.”
“Thanks…” Leon trails off, his eyes immediately accounting for you before they land back on Lieutenant Branagh.
“Marvin Branagh.”
“Leon Kennedy…” He speaks between pants. It’s instinct that you step into his personal, looking him over for any scratches or bites. There are splotches of blood patterned against his jeans and the soiled prints of hands catching the sleeves of his shirt, but he’s physically unscathed. “There was another officer…I-I couldn’t…I couldn’t…”
“I’m sure you did what you could, Leon.” You nod, Marvin leading the two of you to the sitting area where he collapses on the sofa, taking a few moments to catch his breath.
“Are you alright sir?”
“I’ll manage” Marvin huffs, hand still clutching his side.
“Must be a cop thing.” Leon catches your eye, a brief amusement painting his lips despite the situation. It’s easy to decide you like when he smiles, you like when it’s because of you. It’s a silly thought, but you imagine most of them are when you aren’t sure if you’ll be alive in a few hours. “What’s that?”
There’s a small notebook clutched in Leon’s free hand, he lifts it like he’s just remembered something important. He passes it to Marvin, frowning at the implication. “The officer, he had it on him.”
Marvin glances down at it, thumbing the bound leather, its cover speckled in scarlet and tattered with age.
“Suit up, kid.” He nods toward the crate you meant to check earlier. Leon steps over and unjams the lid. Inside is an RPD uniform, some weapons and ammo. Marvin simpers, brow half raised in your direction. “Wouldn’t want you to miss the wedding because of these damn things.”
“Huh?” Leon is startled, your face heats, looking anywhere but the rookie cop. He flusters, dropping the lid in his hand, but recovers quickly. “Oh, we’re not…we just met sir.”
“Right on time.” Marvin jests through a wince, flipping through the pages of the notebook. You can tell he’s enjoying this and you don’t have the heart to stop him, knowing it’s probably one of the last times he’ll be able to enjoy anything.
You provide Leon space to change, tucking himself behind a privacy screen near the sick beds. Pacing back to the lieutenant, you occupy yourself with a knife tucked atop the crate of supplies. It’s heavy in your hand, but it feels nice when you balance it just right, like it could slice through flesh and tendon seamlessly. You tremor at the thought. That gruesome had become reality, forcing you to consider the efficiency of shredding human meat with the teeth of a blade. A sickening simulation of survival.
“Have you ever handled a gun?” Marvin points to one tucked into the crate. You nod slowly, pulling it free to test its skin, cold and metallic, against your own.
“Yeah, my friend's brother taught me. Said he hoped I’d never need one.” Your eyes clench, tracing the memory against that back of your lids.
It was stupid, Chris’s attempt at cheering you up after you’d spent the night crying on the floor of your apartment. You’d asked him how he even got in, Chris had chuckled, like he was offended you needed to ask. “Best way to hide something is in plain sight. It’s what I taught Claire, now I’m teaching you.” He’d said it seriously, dangling your spare key in front of you. He’d spent the rest of the night watching over you, little to say in the way of comfort, but it wasn’t something you expected from him. Strictly a man of action if you’d ever seen one. You’re sure you were still covered in snot the next morning when he announced he was taking you shooting.
Claire would never have allowed it. You were always the softer of the two of you, your weapon sheathed in the strength of your mentality, emotional and intellectual intuition. Your ability to dress a situation down from observation alone.
The siblings always joked you must be some sort of spy with the way you’ve woven yourself so completely between them, learned all their secrets without trying. But they’d never know for sure because you’re a natural at hiding it.
But Claire wasn’t around and Chris chose that day to use it to his advantage.
You’ve kept it a secret between you all these months. Not because Chris let you shoot a gun, but because of the way he almost kissed you after. He leaned in slow, the space between you filled with something revelatory for the both of you. It was a startling little affair. It was also the last time you saw him alone before Claire lost track of him completely.
“You any good?” You blink, the gun and your body settled into the practiced stance you learned almost a year from where you stand. Breath steady, hands firm, lock on. There’s a monotonous whir in your ear from what remains of the station’s ventilation system, your pulse syncs against the sound. You think you even begin to feel the phantom throbbing that irked you for a week after from the electrifying jolt of your first shot. Chris hadn’t laughed outright, but when you’d turned to him, startled from the kickback, you could see a softness in his eyes and a tension in his jaw like he was trying to hold it in.
“I’m almost positive I wouldn’t accidentally shoot you.”
“Hell, with the state I’m in you might just be doing me a favor.” You sigh, moving to slip the gun back into the crate. Marvin shakes his head, passing you some ammo. You wonder how much of it is left. “You hold onto it,” he eyes the knife. “Both of em’. Rookie, needs you to watch his back.”
“Rookie? I thought you said we were on equal footing?”
“Yeah, but I can’t leave the kid without giving him as much of a welcome as I can. Especially after he came all this way when he would've been better off.”
You nod, grabbing one of the spare holsters to fasten at your waist. It's a simple, but adequate distraction busying yourself with securing some of the supplies you found in the hip pouch, leaving some for Leon as well. All the while twirling circles in your brain, attempting to configure yourself into an advantage rather than a liability. The protective stance Leon had taken against you earlier is still fresh on your mind. He couldn’t do this alone and you wouldn’t let him.
“Do you know Chris Redfield?” The air is beginning to grow stiff and unsure again, you find yourself dulled at your own negligent affiliation. If anyone could possibly know where Chris is this would be the place to find out. “He’s why I’m here, actually. My friend, he’s her older brother and she hasn’t been able to reach him.”
“Redfield? I haven’t seen him around since…well let’s just say he’s got bigger fish to fry than me, they all do. I wouldn’t worry about him too much, seems like he can handle himself.”
You’re about to ask what he means, but you’re sluggish to notice Leon’s resurgence until he stops between you and the Lieutenant. He’s tugging at the uniform, adjusting it like he’s not sure it quite suits him. It does. His arms are heavily padded with extra cloth, pads on his elbows and knees. Fitted for battle.
“Does anyone know what started this?” Leon slides his gun into its holster, you pass him some bandages and extra ammo.
“Not a clue. But honestly, all you need to know is that this place will eat you alive if you aren’t careful.”
“Yeah…well, I was supposed to start last week and I got a call to stay away. I wish I’d come here sooner.”
“You’re here now, Leon. That’s all that matters.”
“Ok, Lieutenant, I’m ready.”
“Hopefully, you’ll be able to find a way out of this station.” Marvin passes you the notebook, you flip through the pages, recognizing some of the drawings as the statues just a few feet away. “That officer you met earlier – Elliot. He thought this secret passageway might do the trick.”
The drawing depicts a tunnel, likely the sewer system below the station, and medallions that are meant to fit into the statue of the woman in the center of the hall.
“Well, I guess it makes sense that the only way out is through.” You find your way back to the lion statue from earlier, repeating the motions, this time with the symbols in Elliot’s notebook: lion, branch, bird.
It makes the same sound as before, something deep and ancient, though this time you feel it in your feet as the statue momentarily animates to reveal one of the medallions. It’s chilled in your palm, cold stone that’s been too long hidden from the light. You fit it into the main statue, glancing at Leon and Marvin when nothing, not even a shutter, responds.
“So Elliot was right…” Marvin observes, a deep melancholy coating the words.
“Yeah, but the passage isn’t open yet.”
“One down, two to go.” You shrug, passing the notebook back to Leon, determination settling into the lines of his face at the newly framed task.
“This is good news. We can get you to a hospital.”
“No, no, I am not the priority here.”
“Lieutenant, I’m not just gonna leave you here—”
“If we hurry maybe we can save you–” You and Leon trip over each other’s words.
“I’m giving you an order, rookie. You two save yourselves first. I’d come with you, but I’d just slow you down.” He pulls a knife from his person, it looks used, loved. He turns it over in his hand and passes it to Leon, “Now…you’ll need this.”
“I can’t take–”
“Stop. And don’t make my mistake. If you see one of those things–uniform or not–you do not hesitate. You take it out…or you run. That goes for both of you. Got it!?”
“Yes, sir.” You chorus.
“Wait…” Leon looks worrisome, an addled crease in the center of his forehead. “Y/n, you should stay with Lieutenant Branagh. You didn’t see what I did, it’s too dangerous.”
“Which is exactly why I’m not letting you go this alone, we’re a team.” You argue, gesturing to your own gear as if to prove you mean nothing short of business.
Leon looks to Branagh, who shrugs. “She’s right, safety in numbers. Plus, I hear she’s not a bad shot.”
“She needs extra protection, don’t you have another uniform or a bulletproof vest at least?”
“Leather jacket. Nice too.” Marvin compliments to which you smile, satisfied he’s taking your side in the matter. “It’s protection enough. If you’re so worried, rookie, try not to let her get bit, yeah?”
“Yeah, Officer Kennedy. Besides, I’ve got your six.”
~*~
You’re almost regretting your decision not to stay behind with Lieutenant Branagh, your unease keeping you pushed against Leon’s back, peaking around his shoulder and over yours every so often. There were more infected than you were anticipating and the station’s covered in crumpled correspondence, clues leading to the city’s lockdown. You get the impression that this entire city runs on the Umbrella Corporation. Some pharmaceutical company apparently.
You recall the sign on your drive in and the billboards peering down at you every few feet. You find it a little odd that you’ve never heard the name before.
To Leon’s credit, he’s remained unwavering in his fortitude. He’ll glance back frequently to make sure you’re still there and he doesn’t question your own resolve when you push against him like a scared child. Though he insisted you start your search in the west wing of the station, clearly not quite as settled after his run in with Lieutenant Elliot as he’d have you believe.
You’d lucked out when you came across a supply room, a scant array of extra ammo and a shotgun, suspiciously untouched in the far cabinet. Leon had offered you the weapon, still cautious of your casual dress in comparison to his own, but you’d assured him he’d make much better use of the weapon. Not to mention the weight of it alone would be less help than hindrance.
Eventually you find yourselves in a larger room seemingly a hub for the officers, their desks settled in the center.
“Oh.” You say, flashlight filtering around, settling on a banner strung across the ceiling spelling out Welcome Leon in blue and gold. You wait for him to react, say anything, but he sets to rifling through the contents of the desks, searching for clues or extra supplies. “Leon, are you alright?”
“I’m fine.” He’s not, there’s a rigidity in his movements and you can hear his staggered breathing. You’ve only known him a few hours, but you can see that this is eating him alive. Some belief that if he’d just come earlier none of this would be happening. It’s not true, but his passion pulls at the strings of your own heart.
“Leon, it’s okay if you’re not. This is hard.”
“I’ll be okay. Let’s just look around.” He slips into the superior office nestled in the back corner, you continue poking around near the cluster of desks. Leon’s is stationed at the head of them, a welcoming note with a puzzle to open the combination locks fastened at each corner. You recognize Marvin’s name in the signature line. Seven desks and only two officers left to claim them, one a bloody and temporary fixture of the sofa in the main hall. It’s unsettling to be standing amidst the scene of what could have been.
The tip of your boot clashes lightly with something on the ground near the door you entered through. A golden nameplate that must’ve been strewn from the desk in whatever happened before the room grew so still. You lean over enough to shine a light over the name.
“George Scott, I’m sorry…–shit!” It’s a little louder than you mean it to be when an infected officer leaps at you from the desk. He catches you just off guard enough that you trip over your own feet, flashlight rolling, its hands grabbing at your ankle while you fumble for your gun. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”
“Y/n?”
You barely register Leon’s voice, your body moves in full panic, struggling to disengage the safety. Your free leg is kicking at whatever it can reach, the sickening thwack of bone harsh beneath your boot. You finally manage a shot, horribly aimed. It deflects against the creature’s jaw, but doesn’t seem to deter its movements enough to free you.
You raise your gun again, but something in you snaps when you look at the thing. Something raw, unfiltered, condoling. Morality’s beating appendage.
Your finger slips off the trigger, you don’t realize until the undead officer is spitting at you. An amalgamation of fleshy leftovers drooled in pools of saliva on your boots. You move to raise your gun again, but a shot sounds ahead of you.
“Shit, are you okay?” Leon helps you to your feet, his hands a steady pressure on your shoulders. You holster your gun, the heat of the weapon suddenly sweltering in your palm. “Hey, don’t cry. I’m here, you’re alright.”
You hadn’t realized the wetness coating your cheeks, embarrassed that he saw it first. You’ve always wished your skin was a little thicker. It’s why you were glad to learn the control of a pistol, power sheathed in physicality. But despite everything, you’ve never been able to completely escape the grasp of your emotions, reduced to tears with even the most scorching of anger simmering beneath the surface.
Claire said it was why people liked you, that your softness just made you more human. Easy to love.
Chris said he found it adorable. Not in the way of someone who could find any sort of attraction in such a flaw of character, but as someone who regarded you as next to petulant. Like a damsel who needs to be coddled and reassured.
Leon doesn’t look at you any differently. His head is tipped just slightly, like he’s wondering how you ended up on the ground in the first place. Not life threatening, but rather something just a little silly. Not like he’s judging you for humanizing the very thing that would’ve eaten you whole without pause.
“I hesitated.” You whisper, choking against your own breath. You can’t look Leon in the eyes any longer, focussed instead on the RPD lettering emblazoned across his chest. “I promised I wouldn’t hesitate and the moment it mattered that’s exactly what I did.”
“You were scared, it’s okay. I’ve got you.”
“It doesn’t matter. It can’t matter!” He lifts your chin, locking it in place so your eyes meet his wide, unwavering ones. “I won’t make it out of this.”
“You will.” The words are anchored, rooted in the belief that it’s the only possible outcome. You’re not sure how or where his faith in you lies. But you believe him. “Y/n, it’s okay to be scared. This is hard.”
“Are you scared?”
“Terrified.” He says it without hesitation, no embarrassment or need to embellish some masculine condition. You’re a little jealous of that, the way he’s cemented in his sense of self. His softness is not an obstacle, but a compliment to his character.
“But you didn’t hesitate.”
“I’m a cop, it’s kind of my job.”
“Rookie cop.” You mutter, already sobering from your momentary panic. He makes it easy, you realize, to recover from something that moments ago felt nothing short of a detriment. You try not to think about it too much, eyes held hostage by his own where he still holds you in place. Checking. Reassuring.
“But I didn’t hesitate.” He counters, your hand batting his wrist from your chin to hide the smile he’d inevitably eased from you. “Are you okay?”
“I’m okay if you’re okay.” He offers you his hand, a welcoming force in the presence of uncertainty. You take it.
“We’re okay.” You look down at the mutilated corpse lying pliant near your feet. Its grip was surprisingly strong around your ankle, but you recall how easily you’d snapped bone and tendon with your free leg. “We should shoot at their knees.”
“Huh?”
“I think a zombie crawling on the ground is a lot less terrifying than one lunging at you. Besides, their limbs are pretty brittle and we need to save as much ammunition as possible. Who knows what else is lurking around here.”
“Cut their legs right out from under them. Good call.” Leon agrees, passing you your flashlight. “One step closer to six feet under.”
“Not funny.”
“A little funny.”
~*~
The station's third floor feels miniscule, more a storage unit than a place of any particular purpose.
Your steps have molded into something rehearsed in the way you and Leon move around each other amidst the pressure of fatality should a floorboard creek or groan too hastily beneath your feet. Silence invites a deterrence, one welcome even if only in spurts. It gives you a head start, scoping each room just enough to assess the level of threat.
“Ok, I’m getting creeped out again.” You shutter, the hallways filled with dust and wooden crates, the only lighting besides your own filtering from the irregular windows tracing the wall. You think you hear Leon laugh, nearly running into him when he stops just outside of the only door at the end of the hall.
“That would mean that at some point you weren’t creeped out?”
“This is different. We’re basically in the spooky attic of a haunted police station.” As if some clairvoyant, macabre humor, something slams against a nearby window pane. Its body scurries across the side of the station, shadowing something akin to an ant or giant spider, less legs, but just as disturbing. “What the hell was that?”
“No idea, but I don’t think it’s here to help.”
“And it certainly isn’t a zombie.” You inch further down the hall, body pressing to the wall opposite the offending glass panes presenting you to whatever creature is prowling the exterior foundation of the police department.
The hall is a dead end, just more crates and empty shells. Crumpled amongst the rubbish is a letter curling at the edges and smudged in a suspicious liquid. You avoid the stain, pinching the page between the fingers of your free hand.
[To any survivors]
Consider this a gift for anyone still unfortunate enough to be alive.
Keep your eyes peeled for those creepy fucks that look like they were skinned alive- "lickers," we call ’em. They’re blind as bats, but their hearing more than makes up for that.
So long as you don’t run around like a total idiot, guns a-blazing, you should be able to slip right by them… probably.
Either way, make like my grandma and creep around as slow as possible around ’em, yeah?
Anyway, not that I wanna go, but duty calls. That, and I’ve got a friend to avenge.
David
“You think he’s talking about that thing outside?” You pass the note to Leon, trying to glean any recollection of what it actually looked like rather than the preternatural image you’ve already conjured in your head.
“Let’s just keep going. It won’t bother us if we don’t bother it.” You have a feeling Leon believes his words about as much as you do, but you press on, edging into the only door in the dense stretch of hallway. It’s a stockpile of everything you don’t need, boxes and bins of dusty storage piled in paths, the unmistakable moaning of infected muffled, giving the impression there are foes in all corners. On the far wall there’s a cell, the bars caging in a whole host of the undead. “Guess we’re late to the party.”
“At least they have good party favors.” You point toward one end, a statue of a maiden poised and waiting to be unveiled. “The real question is, how do we get in?”
“I have a feeling this guy just did us a big favor.” Leon passes you another letter, this one scribbled and angry. The writing borders manic, a vendetta that must have been fueled by a hatred boiled over into madness. The gist is C4 and a detonator to blow the wall of the cell out. “But, given how our night is going, we’re gonna have to work for it.”
“Maybe this’ll help.” You hold up a key, its dusted imprint resting where the letter had been thrown over top of it. Its handle glimmers a saturation of emerald, presenting the shape of a spade.
“We should head back to Lieutenant Branagh, see if he remembers where this fits.”
You’re startled by the sound of static at Leon’s hip. “Leon, it’s Marvin. I need you back here ASAP.”
“Are you okay, Marvin?” Leon responds immediately, the two of you easing back into the hall to avoid the stirring of the infected that were likely trying to navigate the heaps of junk to get to you. You slide the key into your hip pouch and glance cautiously toward the previously occupied window. If that letter about the “lickers” was any indication about that thing, you’re positive a whirring radio is the perfect way to draw it toward you.
“I’ve got something to show you. It’s important.” Marvin pants. The two of you exchange a look, situated somewhere between curiosity and exhaustion at the prospect of something more than what you’ve already faced.
“Copy that, we’ll be right there.”
~*~
Unfortunately, the trek back to the main hall is uneventful. You know you should be grateful, but the realization is a bleak one. You’re already growing accustomed to looking over your shoulder, not immediately spooked by every ache and groan of the buckled floorboards beneath your feet. You’re still on edge, but your movement is more rehearsed than gawky, as it had been just a few hours ago.
When you make it back to Marvin he looks worse than when you left. His breathing has swallowed significantly and his skin borders on gray. “There you are…Come here, take a look.”
You and Leon approach the laptop sitting before him, the security footage displaying an image of Claire, standing outside of one of the station gates, trying to find a way in.
“Claire!”
“Yes! I knew she’d make it!” Leon’s hand rests affirmative against your shoulder.
“You know her?”
“That’s Claire, my best friend.” You study the screen, looking for any indication of where you need to go to reach her. There’s a sudden desperation like hope spreading through your chest. It was strange, not to claim you didn’t miss Claire or fear for her safety, but you felt an odd sense of well-being in the presence of Leon. One ordinarily reserved for your best friend, the other half of your whole. “How do I get to her?”
“You can get to that courtyard through the second floor…east side.”
“What about this?” You pass him the spade key, he flips it slowly in his palm like some old relic. You imagine for him it must feel like it’s from a different life. You can hardly grasp the concept that you were sitting in your apartment just last night with no idea what was happening in Raccoon City. You can’t imagine living through its collapse in real time.
“Library, second floor.” Marvin points to the balcony, west side. “If memory serves, it’s got one of those statues in the lounge. The first door to the left once you get in.”
“You should go, get the medallion and see if you can find anything to help with that C4.” You take the key back from the Lieutenant and enclose it in Leon’s fist. “I’m gonna go find Claire.”
“Are you crazy?” His eyes are moon-like, zeroed in on your sudden plan. He uses his free hand to trap yours between both his palms. “What happened to not going this alone?”
“The faster we get through this, the faster we can get out of here.” You’re covert in the way your neck cranes toward Marvin, who’s too focused on his current state to think much of your disagreement. You beg Leon to entertain a secret hope that you’ll make it out in time to save him. A necessary good for all he’s done to save you. “Just…meet us in the courtyard. Okay?”
“I don’t know…”
“Leon, I know you’re just trying to protect me, but let me do this. Please?” You don’t break eye contact, you can see the conflict jumping between his pupils. “Please.”
“Fine.” He relents, hesitation still bullseyed in the whites of his eyes. “No detours, no extra exploring. Get to Claire and stay safe until I can get to you.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“No detours–”
“–No extra exploring. I promise.” You ease your hand from his, backing leisurely toward the staircase closest to the east hall. “You be safe too. I need you to come back to me in one piece, Officer Kennedy.”
Leon mimics your movements up the west staircase, the two of you locked onto each other until you reach your respective doorways. Rather than alert the building's population of rabid lurkers, you salute him one last time and slip through the door to the waiting room.
There’s a moment to rest, commit to the practiced task of steeling yourself for whatever awaits on the other side. Your hand ghosts against the handle of the blade strapped to your side, gripping your flashlight with your other hand. You swallow hard.
“It’s just around the corner. You’ll be fine.” You push the doorway to the east hallway open, flashlight shifting in either direction to assess the level of threat. It’s quiet, so alarmingly mute that your fist tightens even further against the neck of your torch. It’s instinct that sends you to the right, the hall ending in a sharp left. Flashing urgently at the end of the corridor is an exit sign leading to the fire escape. “Bingo.”
It’s become second nature to keep caution, feet leading a steady rhythm toward the door, no intention of letting your guard down. About halfway to your destination, a blip shoots past the glass framed in the center of the door. You don’t have time to react before there’s a crash and you’re thrown into the adjacent wall.
“What the hell?” You wheeze as you regain your footing, surging toward the cause of the ground’s swift alteration. Your arms shove against the door to the fire escape, a helicopter smoking in the hole it cratered into the east hallway when it crashed through the station’s wall. In the wreckage there’s a body unmoving in the pilot’s seat.
“Hey!” You startle, glancing around for a voice. “Y/n!?”
“Claire! Oh my god! Hold on, I’ll be there in a sec!”
“Ok!” You rush down the stairs of the fire escape, the helicopter all but forgotten when you spot Claire standing on the other side of the fence, unscathed as far as you can tell. She’s already tugging at the door handle with no luck when you make it to her.
“Claire! I was so worried, are you alright?” You pull at the handle yourself, begging the door to loosen at its hinges.
“I’m good. How’re you doing? Where’s Leon?”
“He’s–”
“Y/n!” Like a figment, Leon is hurtling toward you from the fire escape. He scoops you up, bone crushing you momentarily before you’re on solid ground again. An affection that’s startling, but not unwelcome. “Are you alright!? I heard the crash from the library, I came as fast as I could.”
“A little rattled, but I’m fine.”
“Yeah, that helicopter came out of nowhere…” Claire inserts, the way she looks at you indicative of years of silent conversations. A call and response consisting of pursed lips and dilated pupils, clearly asking What do we have here? You choose to ignore it, something you’re sure she’ll make you pay for in due time.
“Claire… It is so nice to see you.” Leon braces against the fence, vigilant of the space outside of it and the infected lurking in the distance.
“How’re you doing? Keeping each other safe I see.”
“Yeah… I’m in one piece.”
“I’m guessing you don’t have a key in one of those fancy pockets?” She gestures toward his lack of civilian clothing and Leon’s shoulders drop a fraction.
“Unfortunately, no… But how are you doing?”
“You know, just surviving.”
“What about Chris, have you seen him?” You recall your initial destination, something that feels further and further off as the night rages on. “There haven’t been any signs of him in the station.”
“No, not yet.” There’s a tension blanketing the topic, a fear of what state you’ll find him in if he’s still in the city.
“Honestly, Claire, maybe that’s a good thing. It’s no better in here than it is out there, maybe Chris made it out while he still could.” You attempt to posit a modicum of hope, though a part of you is less than willing to believe that Chris would get out when things started getting bad. He’s never been one to run from a fight. Marvin’s earlier words serve as a minor catalyst for this hope of abandonment, though Chris’s radio silence still doesn’t make any sense.
“Don’t lose hope.” Leon adds empathetically. “I’m sure we’re gonna find him–” He’s interrupted by the helicopter exploding over your heads, your bodies falling into shadow against the harsh orange flames. It triggers the piercing wail of the fire alarm and the scene behind Claire names her the main character of a sudden horror. “Dammit. You know what that means…”
“Yeah… Dinner time.”
“Claire, I think you should go.” Leon urges, to which you lightly shove him away from the door to yank against the handle again.
“No, we have to get the door open somehow. We can’t just leave her out there!” There’s a tool room to your right, you hurry inside, hoping the key will be sitting atop the dusty worktable or hanging on some hook of protagonist convenience. No luck. But there is a pair of bolt cutters that you grab a hold of, rushing back to where Claire and Leon are exchanging knowing looks.
“There has to be something we can do with these. If we cut a hole small enough you can get through without letting anymore of them in.”
“Don’t worry about me, Leon. Take her and go.”
“What!?” You’re kicking at the frame of the door, unyielding against its metal and chainlinked infrastructure. You know she can’t stay, can’t wait for you to try to find the key or something strong enough to break through the handle. But you just got her back and it’s nauseating to lose her again so quickly.
“Claire, you need to go– Now!” The infected are beginning to close in on her, the window for a stealthy escape narrowing the longer she idles. Claire steps away from the fence, turning once to lock eyes with you.
“Hey… Let’s get through this. All of us.” You nod, vaguely catching sight of Leon pulling his radio free.
“Uh, Marvin. I’ve got a situation here… We’re surrounded by zombies! Marvin! Do you copy? Marvin!? Dammit!” Your fingers catch in the fence, watching Claire sneak as quickly as possible through the hoard that’s trudging toward the alarm still shrieking in your ears. Leon has to physically drag you away from it, murmuring something about how you’ll get to Claire. He guides you back to the main hall, Marvin lying on his side, his breathing faint, but still there. “Still alive…”
“Did you get the medallion?”
“Yeah.” He holds up an emblem similar to the one you found earlier, striding to put it in its place. “We need to find a detonator for the C4 and something to power it most likely.”
“Ok. Sounds like it’s time for some more exploring.”
~*~
“God, this place is a mess.” You glance around the locker room, or what’s left of it. You aren’t sure who got a hold of the place before you, but the wall separating the men’s and women's has been blown to pieces. The floor is covered in water from the burst pipes and debris from everything else. “Should we be concerned with the amount of explosives laying around this place?”
“I hate to say it, but that might be the least of our worries.” Leon nudges gently past you, walking into the women’s locker room with his gun raised. It looks like the explosion took out the infected that were lurking, leaving the path to the other side of the obstructed west hallway clear. You slowly follow in Leon’s footsteps, stopping to look into the lockers lining the wall, hopeful that there will be some spare supplies left lying around.
You’re paying more attention to the contents of your search than you are to Leon when his boot catches at the hinge of the door, flicking it open just slightly. You can see him beginning to edge into the hall from your peripheral, but you snag an abandoned backpack in one of the lockers that steals your concentration. There isn’t much inside, but you find a tear in the lining of one of the pockets, your fingers snaking inside to pull an old newspaper clipping. It's frayed and slightly water damaged, but you can make out the shapings of an umbrella in the framed photograph edging the page.
“Hey, do you think—” There’s a loud bang, Leon’s back pressing into the door he just inched out of, an unknown force challenging him from the other side.
“Help.” You’re there in a second, shoving the clipping into your hip pouch and digging your feet into the tile floor, still slick from the leakage of busted pipes. “So, I think I just found a licker.”
“Shit.” You huff when the thing slams into the door another time. You swear you hear the scrape of its claws and hope they aren’t sharp enough to penetrate the space between you. “Well, all we have to do is be quiet and it’ll go away. Right?”
“There’s an office,” Leon grits, steadying his hand against the frame of the door. “It's just a little further down the hall, to the left. If we can make it there we should be safe, at least for a little while.”
The weight pressing against the door slowly subsides, letting you catch your breath. You can still hear it moving in the hall, making a sort of clicking, snarling noise every few moments. Eventually, Leon cracks the door enough to hear it more clearly. The two of you wait until it sounds far enough down the hall that you can clear the gap between you and the office Leon scouted earlier.
Ready? Leon mouths, his body is wedged between the door and he’s steadily looking back and forth between you and the chasm of a hallway. You nod, a quick inhale, like stripping yourself of breath will build your confidence and level your stealth. He steps into the hall, your foot catching the door to follow his same motion, slowly freeing yourself so that its locking mechanism locks back into place as silently as possible, but even the subtle click has your shoulders hunching regrettably.
Your steps are knee deep, like wading water. The hallway feels miles long and your eyes refuse to leave the predator hawking at the far end. There are several broken windows dressing the hall, their glass like dusted snow scattered along the floor, the soft crunching beneath your two sets of feet inevitable. Naturally, one of your hands fastens itself at Leon’s elbow, like you need to know that he’s there when your eyes screw shut in your attempt to glide to the office door.
The licker is facing away from you, but its tongue is a tape measure, a snake on the prowl the way it creeps from its jowl with the frequency of a starving predator. A licker, indeed. Its body looks skinned, pale and fleshy where it reflects in the natural lighting from the window. You’d read a journal once on wendigos, at the time it was more for sport than any sort of academic advantage, but now you’re glad you did. It feels the closest explanation to what you’re looking at now. Though a wendigo is described as once human, cursed to an immortal hunger after the feasting of mortal flesh, and you’re unsure whether this thing ever could have been. It lacks the anthropomorphic condition. You don’t feel the draw of deeper understanding, the one that earlier forced you to fall short.
A placard comes into view that reads S.T.A.R.S OFFICE, a name that rings a bell, but the pounding that sits deep in your chest doesn’t allow it to sink in just yet.
Your chest strains and you exhale slowly, the sound stuttering the way it bounces around the cavity of your chest. The ghost of wind catches violently against the shards of glass still outlining the window pane, whistling frigid against the conch of your ear. Every inch of noise sounds like it stretches for miles, building sweat at the base of your neck and an all encompassing itch that can’t be scratched.
Leon’s hand extends toward the doorknob, slowly twisting it. He guides you forward with the arm you’ve remained latched onto, allowing you to sidle through the doorway first. His body is pressed directly against yours, leaving a slim margin for error.
Though, your night has provided you with little in the way of serendipitous encounters with any of the anomalous beings jaunting the halls, you supposed every dog has its day.
“Christ!” Leon shoves his back against the door once it closes mutely behind him. “That thing is gross.”
“I mean yeah, did you see its tongue?” It's a moment of self contained mania, the way the two of you nearly double in laughter, your immediate fear flipped into joint hysteria. You’re sure it is in part, on your end, the only way to keep from crying, a twisted dissociation from the supernatural reality of your circumstance. It takes several moments, laughter bubbling up each time one of you would accidentally meet the others eyes, but once you’ve calmed down enough you sigh. “This is insane.”
“It’s crazy to think we only met a few hours ago. This night makes it feel like a lifetime.”
“Keep thinking I’ll wake up any second, like there’s no way all this is real.” You look around the office. It’s tight quarters, like whoever worked here had their whole lives shoved into each of the desks crammed in the middle of the room. “Where are we?”
“S.T.A.R.S Office,” Leon reads. “Special Tactics and Rescue Service. Wonder where they are now.”
“S.T.A.R.S?” There’s an office branching off to the left, the desk messy with files and random documents. Placed neatly on the cabinet behind the desk is a frame filled with officers, a team photo if you had to guess. You handle the frame, tracing over the faces. You recognize Jill Valentine in the front row, and follow the rest of the faces, the dots drawing together nicely in your head. “Chris. I knew this sounded familiar, Chris is an officer in this department.” Leon is still skulking around the main office when you approach him with the frame. “Maybe there’s something in here about where he could be.”
“Maybe, but this place is so cluttered I’d be surprised if you can find it.”
“Well I have to try for Claire. Besides, there has to be something in here that can help us get that cell open. There aren’t many other places for us to look.”
“I wish we could get in here. I bet there’s some more ammo, and that gun could be useful.” Leon nods toward the armory branching off from the main office. It’s locked by a security gate, the only way to get inside is a desktop that neither of you have access to. You consider telling Leon to give Marvin a call, but you doubt he’d have a way in, and even if he did he’s likely in no state to help. “I’d try to break through if I wasn’t terrified that something out there has grown sentient enough to work a door.”
“Well, there has to be something around here to get us in. Search the desks!” You’re looking for one in particular, it’s easy to spot with a shot of Claire pinned to the wall beside the chunky monitor. You’re slightly taken aback to find one of you there as well. A recent photo, one taken the night before Chris left for Raccoon City. When you and Claire forced him to spend it with the two of you instead of pretending to finish his packing. You’d spent the evening taking as many photos as possible of the nearly departed siblings.
Chris had taken the one of you off guard. You set the camera aside to devour a slice of pizza when he’d called your name, sauce dotting the edge of your mouth, eyes wide, and crust shoved halfway past your lips. You can still hear the faint laughter of both Redfields when he snapped the photo, pulling it from your polaroid to hold hostage despite your weak efforts to steal it from him. You’d forgotten about the shot by the time the night had ended, too caught up in goodbyes to realize he still had it.
“Huh, that’s convenient.” Leon’s proximity startles you, his breath fanning against your neck. He reaches for a USB stick resting in a cup of pens perched atop the desk. “Probably just some useless files or something, too easy to find.”
“That’s the beauty of it.” You smile, shoving Leon lightly toward the PC, inwardly begging for something to give. He clumsily shoves the stick into one of the ports, the two of you leaning eagerly toward the monitor, gazes shifting back and forth between that and the armory gate. When it connects, the monitor flashes green granting you access to the third room. Leon heads straight for the arsenal of weapons, saying something about the gun hanging on the wall. You nod along catching the name of the firearm, but you’re not sure what he’s talking about and you trust he knows enough for the both of you.
You’re rattled significantly by a letter laying haphazardly on the wooden bench lining the lockers. The scrawl dotting the page almost as familiar as your own.
To my bestest S.T.A.R.S. buds,
How are you all doing in that drab, old station? Hanging in there against old Irons? Me? I just got back from a date with a hot chick. Bet you can guess what we got up to under her extra-large umbrella.
Europe is amazing. One month is in no way enough to even scratch the surface. Maybe I’ll extend my vacation for another six months.
Barry, don’t even think of coming to join me. Wouldn’t want to make all the cute girls cry yeah? So you just leave the babes to me.
Jill, if Claire tries to contact you, please let her know I’m OK.
Chris Redfield, August 29
“This doesn’t make any sense. This doesn’t even sound like…” You read the letter over three times, unsure whether to be upset or relieved. You settle on confused.
“What’s wrong?” Leon moves from his own distraction, scavenging for bullets for his newly acquired black hawk. You pass him the note, collapsing onto the wooden bench. He takes a second to read it over, looking at you then back at the letter. “So he’s not here. That’s good news, right?”
“But why wouldn’t he tell Claire? Or me?” You take the letter back, to look it over a final time and begin to slowly fold it into a neat square then thinking better of it you shove it roughly into your hip pouch. “If he’s off picking up girls on some European beach then that’s great, I’m happy for him. But I wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for him. This letter was sent a month ago.”
“I’m sure there’s another explanation.”
“Yeah…There has to be.” You relent, thinking better of your little fit. You attribute the sudden bile coating your stomach in part to whatever unresolved tension needles you at the thought of him, but mostly because this feels out of character for Chris, making Claire worry on such a large scale. If he’s writing to his co-workers it feels off that the only family he has left would be kept in the dark. You decide that whatever is going on with Chris will be better suited for your thoughts outside of imminent death. Leon is still waiting for you. To do what you don’t know, but he hasn’t moved from his spot hovering at your side. Your eyes catch on something in one of the open lockers. “This look like a detonator to you?”
“Son of a bitch.” Leon smiles, grabbing the angular device. “And I’m sure I saw some batteries back in the office.”
“Great. So, what are the chances that thing is still waiting right outside of the door to attack us?”
“Well, let’s just say we better make like David’s grandma and creep.”
~*~
“Alright, party people.” Leon fastens the detonator into place. “Let’s turn this bash into a blowout.” He sprints toward you when the timer begins counting down, shoving you enough around the corner that you only stumble slightly when the C4 goes off, rattling the room's four corners.
“God, I’m so sick of things exploding.” You wait it out for a few moments, attempting to get a clear picture of how many of the undead you’ll have to fight through to get to the statue. You peek around the corner, several of the bodies that were sequestered behind the metal prison are lifeless, finished by the detonation.
“I’ll take down the zombies, you get the medallion.” You move in sync, Leon passing you the notebook then knocking a crate onto its side to draw the attention of the bodies meandering about the room. The final piece is easily secured as he neutralizes the threat and you signal as much to him edging back into the hall with Leon following shortly after.
“This is it. Hopefully Elliot knew what he was talking about.”
“Only one way to find out.” Leon mutters, accepting the medallion from you with an anxious disposition. It’s the first time all night you’ve seen him waiver, like it’s dawning on him that if this doesn’t work there’s a chance you'll be trapped here. “Let’s head back to Lieutenant Branagh.”
Most of the undead that had previously blocked your path have been killed off, your journey back to the main hall one of the smoothest you’ve had all evening.
You watch Leon slide the last medallion into place, the large statue steadily rising to its full potential to reveal a metal grated door living beneath it.
“So it goes underground…. Huh. That’s it– that’s our way out. Lieutenant Branagh! Marvin! Time to go!” Leon moves toward Marvin, still lying unconscious on the sofa. His words and a gentle nudge against the lieutenant’s shoulder activate the officer so rapidly he shoots up with something akin to a snarl tearing out of him. You jump directly into Leon who steadies you and kneels before his superior. “Hey, Marvin… We need to get you to a hospital right now.” You move forward again, gently encouraging him to get up.
“No, no… Save yourselves…” His words are slowed and slightly muddled, jaw working hard to make you understand. You swallow, backing up a tad to look at Leon.
“Come on, I’ve got you–”
“Go!”
“Marvin, we want to help you.” You plead, those damned tears tracing the lining beneath your eyes.
“Look, we can still make it out of here together, if you just gimme–” Marvin pulls his gun, pointing it directly at Leon who shoves you behind his frame. The move is halfhearted, you all know it in the way his hands tremble and it takes him a moment to meet your eyes for the last time.
“It’s too late. I tried, Leon…Y/n... But I couldn’t stop it. We can’t let this thing spread. It’s on you now. Just go…” Marvin leaves no room for conflict, his words concise and filled with a meaning you’re sure will sit with you for the rest of your time in being.
You recognize Leon’s next move as one of respect for his first friend on the force, his lieutenant.
“I understand.”
He places a strong, grounding hand against your back, the other on your arm to guide you toward the door to the secret passage. You fight against him gently, just enough to look Lieutenant Branagh, Marvin, in the eyes.
“Thank you for everything. I’m so sorry.”
“You two take care of each other.” Is the last thing he says before Leon is once again pushing you gently ahead, the sound of the door closing echoes in your ears, settles in your hollowed chest. You don’t speak just yet. Can’t.
Leon turns back toward the station, something new rising within him.
The soft patter of rain against the windows filled the cozy apartment as you snuggled closer into Leon's warm embrace on the couch.
His toned arm was draped over your shoulders, the sleeve of his snug t-shirt pushed up just enough to reveal those thick, protruding veins that never failed to set your heart aflutter.
You traced your fingertips lightly over the raised paths, admiring how they rippled underneath his pale skin with each flex of his powerful muscles.
Leon let out a contented hum, clearly amused by your fascination as he pulled you nearer.
"You're at it again, love." he chuckled deeply, the rumble vibrating against your cheek where it rested on his chest.
"When are you gonna get enough of these old things?" he added.
"Never." You murmured without a shred of shame, continuing to reverently follow the roadmap of veins along the underside of his forearm down to his large, capable hand.
Just mapping every ridgeline and groove with your exploratory caresses and committing them to memory all over again.
Leon was all sinewy strength contained in an appealingly rugged package - the epitome of everything you found irresistibly attractive in a man.
He shivered visibly when you traced the thick cords leading into the sturdy bones of his knuckles, seeming to shudder from the featherlight sensations dancing over such calloused skin.
With a sly grin, you began kneading into the tough musculature with your thumbs, relishing every twitch and flutter you could coax out of your buff boyfriend.
"Damn, you really do have a thing for my arms, huh?"
Leon's voice had dropped into a lower, huskier register tinted with growing arousal the more you lavished them with worship.
"Should've known keeping those guns on display was a dangerous game to play around you..."
You raised your gaze to find his stormy azure eyes already drinking you in with a molten, smoldering intensity that made heat bloom low in your belly.
His plump lips were quirked into that trademark lopsided smirk - the one that never failed to liquify your bones into pliant putty under the weight of his mere stare alone.
"Can you blame me?" you purred, purposefully flexing his wrist upwards and mouthing at the thick, flexed veins standing in stark relief against tawny skin and crisp blonde hair.
"With arms like these to enjoy whenever I want...who needs a tv show as entertaining as you are to look at, baby?"
The low gravelly groan that rumbled free was your only warning before Leon captured your lips in a searing, demanding kiss.
His free hand anchored itself in your hair to angle you deeper into his passionate onslaught while your nimble fingers continued their devoted ministrations along every rope-thick tendon and bulging swell they could find.
All thoughts of the show you'd been watching instantly fled your mind when the insistent press of Leon's arousal strained against your hip.
Leaving your mind deliriously empty of anything except worshipping his body like the muscular wonderland it was...
Leon being so attentive when you first start working at the station. The throbbing in his pants almost painful when he watches as somebody walks into the building and you lean over in those slacks, pushing your glasses up as you ask the person to sign their name on the bottom of a document.
Does he ever talk to you? Of course not. You were an angel though, your voice so sweet when you let out a “Goodmorning” everytime he walks through the wide double doors. He was to scared to talk to you because what is he suppose to say? He would stutter surely. Or maybe even accident check you out right in front of you- his last intention is to make you uncomfortable.
How long is it suppose to last though? Watching you glance at him, suddenly going on your break at the same time as him?
Well you couldn’t help yourself. It was rare to see such a young, handsome cop. Rookie or not he definitely had your attention. So you made a plan, but It was failing miserably and he never even glanced at you.
-
It’s pouring rain on friday night, of course It is. Every taxi seems to ignore you, tears of frustration building in your eyes as you wave at another and the water splashes up from the blacktop onto your skirt.
Leon walks out of the station, pulling his hoodie over his head to see you literally soaked and desperately waving down a taxi. It was a rough day for you according to the talk around the office, you spilled all of the coffee for the meeting all over the paperwork in the office room and got the lecture of a lifetime.
Leon walked over to you, clearing his throat as he pointed to his car.
“Let me drive you home, I’m sure you don’t live far.”
The first time hearing his voice and it made your throat feel stuck. Your head nodding as you followed Leon over to his car down the street. What a gentleman, he pulls open the door for you, waiting for your shivering form to slip inside before he shuts the door and gets in himself.
Immediately when starting the car he flips the heater on, looking over at you as he reaches in the backseat and hands you a spare jacket.
“You must be freezing. You didnt see the clouds when you went outside this morning?”
Leon chuckled which made you smile, you needed kindness especially today. The car ride home was Leon just listening to you ramble on and on about how favoritism runs the front office and how you wish you were brave like him to go into the field. You could’ve talked forever but of course you point to your small house, tucking your wet hair behind your ears as you look at Leon, reaching for your purse to pay him of course.
Leon shoves your hand away and shakes his head as he unbuckles his seatbelt, he jumps out of his car and runs to your side opening the door for you. You can’t help but blush when he holds his jacket above your head on the way to the door. Thankfully you were so cold and red he definitely didn’t notice. When you get to the door you dig in your bag for your keys, your shaking hands pushing the small key into the handle before you shook the door open, you looked up at Leon and walked inside insisting he came in.
“If you won’t let me pay you, at least let me make you some hot cocoa.”
Leon didn’t mind the wait. You basically begged him to let you make him hot cocoa but you had to shower first. Not even ten minutes passed and you’re walking into your kitchen where he sat at the kitchen table, a slight smile on his face when he sees the slippers you’re wearing, the cute silk pajamas that he so badly just wanted to rub his fingers over.
“Thank you so much, plus you shouldn’t drive home anyways look at It out there.”
You were right but of course you were. It was pouring, the wind knocking the bushes against your window and now lightning striking against the dark sky. Leon just nodded in agreement as you placed one of the cups in front of him. Steam rising to the top as you mixed it for him once more before sitting down across from him.
It was awkward at first, then Leon started to talk about some of things he’s seen on patrol and you’re suddenly cracking up. Both of your mugs empty and your fingers playing with the fabric on his arm as you start to talk about just how stressed you are. It’s obvious in your face, the frustration starting to make you upset as you rub your fingers into your temple.
Leon frowns slightly, his hand by instinct coming up to push the hair from your face. He doesn’t know what happened but he mumbled a quiet.
“Let me help you.”
Extremely bold of him and he was sure you were gonna kick him into the pouring rain. But suddenly he had you laid on the couch, your pajamas on the floor and your legs spread open by his hand while his other hand is three digits deep inside of you. He could tell you needed this so badly, the way your walls squeezed around his fingers. He could watch your face for hours if he was able to, your eyes closed like you’re concentrating on something as he pushes his fingers up in a curling motion, the pads of his fingers brushing against that special spot inside you.
His eyes are hazy when he repositioned himself, laying on his stomach and pushing your legs up as his tongue sloppily laps at your clit, your legs resting against his strong shoulders as his hands slide down to your thighs, massaging them as he looks up at you continuing to lap at your folds as his fingers continue to push in and out of you.
He notices your slight shaking, the quiet whines leaving you as you push at his hands and he can feel the way you flutter around his fingers.
“L-leon-“
Is all you can manage to get out before he’s lapping faster, his face pushing further into you. his fingers slowing down to a softer rhythm as he feels you gush around his fingers, shushing you quietly as you cry out his name, your breath heavy as he pulls himself back up, his lips pressing against yours.
Leon pulls himself away, being careful when he pulls his fingers out of you, kissing the side of your face as he does so.
“It’s okay, nobody at the station has to know.”
Leon smirks as he kisses the side of your mouth and pulls you up to lay against his chest.
(M/n) starts stirring up awake when he keeps feeling something pushing back on him, something soft yet firm, and whatever it is, it's only pressing against his lower abdomen area. Slowly, he starts realizing the stuff happening around him.
He hears Leon whining and whimpering next to him, releasing pleas that get lost in the air, having no one listening to him until now. He mumbles something that (M/n) can't quite understand, before his hips move back with a rather rough movement, making him groan, his hands instinctively holding onto Leon's hips. And it clicks to him, amidst his still sleepy mind that Leon has been the one releasing those noises and causing these in him.
(M/n) holds Leon's hips still with a tight grip, making the blond cry out, begging for him.
"Please please please~" (M/n) is not too sure about what Leon wants, but he's sure he won't be able to fall back asleep with the way his cock is leaking so much. He takes a deep breath, making his mind blank for a moment as he takes in the scent of Leon's pheromones, but he's quick to regain himself back.
He feels Leon's hips wriggling under his grip, letting out desperate whimpers, so needy for (M/n)'s cock.
Leon cries out a 'yes~' when (M/n) starts lowering his shorts and underwear down his thighs, remaining around his knees, but an unsatisfied groan leaves him when (M/n) slides his wet cock in between his thighs, "No~ I... I need more, please..." He whines with tears in his eyes, and (M/n) almost couldn't believe that his boyfriend, his mate, was crying because he decided not to fuck him stupid.
Trying to resist the urge to give in to Leon's needs, (M/n) moved his hands up to hold onto the blond's waist, slowly moving his hips back and forth, groaning at the feeling of Leon's smooth skin, nuzzling his nose on the back the omega's neck, taking deep breaths of his enticing scent. Fuck, it was so hard to resist him when he smelled this good.
"Need you i-inside me now, p-please... I want your cock, w-wanna get filled with your cum..." Leon said between needy whines, thrusting his hips back, feeling the throbbing veins of (M/n)'s dick gracing so close to his wet and twitching hole, causing him to whimper and grip the pillow under his head as he felt his body trembling, tears flowing freely down his flushed cheeks, "Daddy, please..."
The way his voice broke was all (M/n) needed to give in to his lover's pleads, holding his cock and aligning it to the blond's entrance, pushing slowly inside him, feeling Leon's body tense up, his thighs shaking as he released a choked moan.
"'S so fucking good~" Leon cried, his hand gripping and pulling on the bedsheets, "Fuck me, daddy, make... Make me yours..." Gritting his teeth, (M/n) turned Leon around, facing him and his eyes trailed down his body. His shirt was pulled up to above his chest, exposing his red and swollen nipples, ropes of white, sticky cum glistening on his abdomen, and his inner thighs all wet and sticky.
Leon looked up at him with bright eyes, tears wetting his eyelashes and down his cheeks, he licked his lips and smirked, holding his legs spread further apart.
"Can you move, daddy~?" He really knew how to push his buttons...
"Fucking hell..." (M/n) muttered to himself, fingers gripping Leon's thighs as he slowly dragged his cock out, watching Leon's body squirm as he closed his eyes, before thrusting forward again, making the blond feel every inch going inside him.
Leon's back arched off the bed, his hands moving to grip the bedsheets again, needing some stability at the feeling of being filled with his alpha's cock.
He couldn't get enough of it, no matter how many times he got fucked dumb and was left unable to walk for the next few days. But this time, the heat in the pit of his stomach just kept getting hotter and hotter with every thrust inside his weak body, and it was driving him crazy.
"More more more fuck- more, daddy..." He kept whining breathlessly, but it just wasn't enough.
"Holy- Baby, stop... Clenching around me s-so much, you're... You're gonna ma-make me cum," Leon's blue eyes looked into (M/n)'s. His (e/c) eyes were glued onto him, watching every small reaction coming out of him.
Leon reached his hands up, making (M/n) lean down closer to him, his arms and legs instinctively wrapping around him, keeping a tight hold on his body.
"Cum inside~," (M/n) groaned, his hands placed on the mattress as he tried to free himself from Leon's hold, but the omega was stronger than he anticipated, his grip not budging.
"Leon, I... I can't, you're... You're gonna get pregnant-," the whimper that Leon released next to his ear made him freeze, a shiver running down his spine.
"Yes please, fill me with your pups, it's o-okay~ I'm ready to be-become a mommy~," well, if (M/n) had any self-control before that, it was certainly gonna with those words.
(M/n)'s thrusts became rough and deep, growling at the feeling of Leon's slick walls tightening around him, whimpering when he felt his cum spilling inside him, muttering quiet and high-pitched 'thank you's over and over again every time he came.
"Fuck, baby, you're gonna be such a good mommy," he says between grunts, making Leon tear up at the sound of his voice, feeling him going feral on his sensitive body, fucking him and making sure every drop of his cum stays inside him, not spilling even a single drop.
Leon's hands pull on (M/n)'s hair as yet another dry orgasm shakes his body.
"I'll... I'll be the best mommy," he mumbles in a daze, feeling (M/n)'s lips leaving small kisses on the crook of his neck, where their mate mark is, before a surge of pain and pleasure racks his whole body as (M/n) bites him, dumping his cum inside him again as he can't hold back the loud moan as he orgasmed too.
//////
The next morning, Leon sighs and sits up slowly on the bed, feeling extremely embarrassed as his mind is flooded with memories of the previous night, alongside the sensation of something dripping out of him, but even if he's embarrassed about it all, he's also feeling giddy.
Slowly, he gets up from the bed, needing a few minutes, and attempts at keeping himself standing, holding tightly onto the long-sleeved shirt (M/n) dressed him when he was fast asleep, and he took small steps toward the mirror.
Silently looking from the open door of their room, (M/n) observes how Leon looks at himself in the mirror, a wide smile plastered on his blushing face and a captivating glow around him. He can't help but sigh as he looks at him, walking closer to him and making eye contact with him through the mirror, watching how he looks away flustered.
He wraps his arms around Leon's waist, gently caressing his belly, hearing the blond giggle as he placed his hands on top of his.
Fuck, he was so in love with him.
And he's definitely not surprised when Leon comes up to him a few weeks later, tears gathering in his blue and spilling down his rosy cheeks, the widest, happiest smile on his face.
Parings: Rookie!Virgin!Leon Kennedy x Virgin!fem!Reader
Summary: You and Leon have finally made it to the next step of the relationship. Only problem is, you’re both virgins.
Warnings: Fem Reader 18+ very very fluffy smut that is taken very very slow. Smut with training wheels essentially :) Protected sex (please wear protection anytime you are active) p in v, missionary, mutual masturbation, squirting cunnilingus both male and female
Authors note: This idea came to me late at night sooo, I highly suggest listening to Pure by Cigarettes After Sex because this is HEAVILY inspired by that song. Enjoy!
•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•
The comfort Leon’s lips brought to you was unimaginable. Your tongues danced together at a slow pace. His hands were on your hips, gripping slightly each time you moved a little. Leon couldn’t stand the foreign feeling that was brewing in is gut. It made him hot and heavy and aching for something that wasn’t there.
You and Leon have been dating for little over a year. Having met in a coffee shop on the day after your 21st birthday. Leon had bumped into you, sending the dark liquid crashing all over your clothes. Leon stumbled over his words as he tried to fix his mistake, cursing at his clumsiness. Maybe it was the left over alcohol in your system, or your love for food, but, you had told him he can make it up to you by buying you lunch. Of course Leon could never say no to a beautiful girl like you, and he was wiling to make it up to you in whatever way possible. Soon, lunch led to dinner dates, dinner led to hanging out, and hanging out led to dating, and dating led you guys here, with you in Leon’s lap kissing slowly.
You and Leon had agreed to take it slow so you guys have never pushed your physical intimacy past making out. If Leon was being honest, he liked it this way. Due to his up bringing in a strict religious household anything that went along the lines of sex or masturbation was strictly prohibited. Even when Leon moved out he was so busy with the police academy that sex wasn’t his top priority. Leon couldn’t bring himself to do it, he knew nothing of the nature and he was quiet embarrassed about it. Especially, since his girlfriend is a big advocate in sexual health. He’s over heard conversations you’ve had with friends about how it’s okay for them to not get off to penetration, foreplay is what majority of people use to reach their climax. Leon didn’t know what foreplay or climax met, and that only scared him more for when the day you guys do decided to take the next step.
For you though, you were more then ready to take that step. Despite you waiting for the right person to get intimate with, you fully believe that person is Leon. Your vibrator was starting to bore you, and your hand was to mundane. You needed to be filled, more then just your ring and middle fingers. You needed his tongue lapping at your apex as you rake your hands through his hair. You needed to be filled so deep that the tip is bumping into your cervix. You need to be manhandled, tied to a bed and blind folded, or riding a certain someone past no return. But of course, you waited, staying ever the more patient with your lover. ‘Good things come to those who wait’ was something you constantly told yourself in the late hours of the night when you yearned to feel your boyfriend deep inside of you.
Pulling back for air, you bring your hand down to wipe away the saliva that ran down Leon’s chin. His blue eyes pierced into yours as you two looked at each other.
“Everything okay love?” His whispers floated past your lips and filled the quiet room. You couldn’t wait anymore. The way you could feel his bulge beneath you, his huge arms gripping you, and the taste of him on your lips, you had to have him, and now.
“Can.... Can I ask you a serious question?”
“Of course,” He smiled at you as he rubbed idle circles on your hips.
“Are you... Are you willing to take the next step in our relationship? If you don’t want to that’s okay, it’s just...” You trail off of your sentence when you notice the pale expression on your boyfriend’s face. One of his biggest fears came true and he didn’t know how to handle it.
Your voice softened as you cup his cheek, “Hey it’s okay, we don’t have to I was just wondering,”
Leon was quick to shake his head, “No, no it’s not that...”
Your brows furrowed in confusion, “Then what is it?”
Silence filled your shared room as Leon turned his head to look away from you. Red floated up to the tips of his ears and flowed down all the way to his neck.
“I- I uh, um,” He trapped his swollen bottom lip in-between his teeth.
“Leon I promise it’s fi-,”
“I’m still a virgin! I don’t know anything about sex, when I hear you talking to your friends about it I don’t even understand most of the words you use, and I’m afraid. I’m afraid that I’m not going to make you feel good, and then you’ll leave me an-” Your lips crashed into Leon’s bruised lips. You had cut Leon of just as he had done to you
Pulling back you looked at Leon pondering what to tell him, ”Love, I’m a virgin too,”
“R-really?”
“Yes really. I had told myself I was going to wait to till I’m with the right person, and Leon you are that person for me, no matter what you have and haven’t done. We will take it slow, establish boundaries as we go and if you are uncomfortable with it, we will stop.” You thumb stroked his cheek as he looked at you will big doe eyes that were slightly glossed over.
He nodded his head slightly and you returned your lips to his. The kiss was slow and passionate. Despite his tongue dipping past your lips there was nothing eager about the kiss. Pulling back you started to trail kisses down Leon’s jaw. Starting from the edge of mouth and moving lower tracing the sharp lines of his jaw with your lips. When you reached his neck you started to suck and bite, causing him to groan. After leaving a few love bites you pulled back and toyed with the hem of his shirt.
“Consent is everything, always ask before you do. It might be redundant but it helps establish trust, and quite frankly I think it’s very very hot,” Leon plays with the hem of your shorts as he nods his head.
“May I?” You tug a little at his shirt.
“Mhm,” he eagerly nodded his head before you were quick to lift his shirt over his head.
Leon was quick to connect your lips again this time he takes the lead. He followed you actions and left hickies all along your neck and down to your cleveage.
“May I take your shirt off love?” his voice was soft as it floated to your ears.
“Of course,” Leon’s calloused hands traveled up from your thighs to the inside of your shirt around your stomach. His soft touch sent shivers down your spine as he took his hands out from your shirt and gripped the hem of your shirt. He gave you one last look for confirmation before he slowly lifted it up. He stopped right before your perked up nipples.
“It’s okay love, here let me help you,” Your hands landed on top of his and you slowly guided his hands up, up and over your head.
Matching pink adorned cheeks sat on your guys faces as Leon took in the sight in front of him, and you watch Leon practically drool over your tits.
“C-can I touch them?” This was the first time Leon had seen you this naked, and if he was being honest, he was a little upset that this is what he has been missing out on for so long.
You could feel your arousal pool into your shorts “Gods, please Leon, touch me, I want to feel your hands all over me,” You were quick to grab his hands and lead them to your aching nipples.
His cold hands made you arch your back further into his touch as a moan laid in the back of your throat. “Fuck Leon,”
Your hands held onto his as he rolled your left nipple in his hand and dived back into your neck. This feeling was indescribable the ecstasy was too addicting, and you wanted more, you wanted to be inebriated all the time.
Your hands trailed down your body and slowly made their way to Leon’s soaked crotch. You didn’t know if it was his fluids or yours, in fact it was probably a mix of both of them.
“Fuck Leon, can I touch you, please let me touch you,” Your hands ghosted over his crotch and his breath hitched.
“P-please,” Leon lifted his hips up and tried to yank his boxers down, in his futile attempt you had finished the job for him.
His raging cock sprang out and smack him in the stomach. The tip was an angry red with pre-cum oozing out from the top. The vein underneath was bulging and all you could do was stare. Your own arousal slid down your leg on to his, “Fuck Y/N, take them off,” Leon’s voice had darken in demand, taking your bottom lip in your teeth you eagerly nod your head and lift off of Leon to slide your shorts off. Who were you to say no to him?
Your sopping pussy was the most beautiful thing Leon has ever seen in his life his cock twitched, yearning to be stuffed deep in your dripping hole.
“Can I touch it?” Your soft voice pulled Leon out of his trance. Leon eagerly nodded his head.
You clicked your tongue and lean into Leon’s ear, “Use your words baby,” the groan that came from the back of his throat was music to your ears. His grip on you was sure to leave bruises but you didn't mind, you wanted this night to last forever.
“Fuck, yes! Touch me. Use me however you want, I'm yours,” You leaned back on his thighs and bent over slightly. Hovering over his angry cock you collected a ball of spit on the tip of your tongue. Parting your lips you let is slowly fall down on top of his member. A thin string of saliva kept you connected before your pointer finger spread the natural lubricate.
Leon thought he was going to cum right then and there. He’s never cummed before, if that’s what it’s even called but the bubbling feeling in his groin was over whelming. His hips bucked into your hand for more friction. Being the loving girlfriend you are you gave him what he wanted and wrapped your hand around his pulsing cock. He was so thick your fingers barely touched each other on either side. Starting at a slow pace you went up up up, then down down down. Leon’s whimpers made you clench around thin air. You could see him tighten his core with each pump and you knew he wouldn’t last any longer.
His strained gasps filled the room, “F-fuck, I’m going to c-cu-,” You were quick to wrap your lips around the tip of his cock and kitten lick the slit. Salty pre-cum coated your tongue and you couldn’t have enjoyed the taste more. The warm feeling of your mouth caused Leon to jerk forward and grip your hair.
“Fuck fuck fuck fuck FUCK,” sliding your head down further Leon pulsed in your mouth as hot streams of cum coated the back of your throat. Trying not to choke you were quick to pull off of his cock and swallow every single last drop of cum he gave you. You pumped his cock a few more times before his hand gripped yours making your stop.
You sat up and bent over to the nightstand next to Leon, “Whenever we have sex you’re using a condom, if it’s not wrapped we’re not playing,” You opened the top drawer and tore a single condom off the string of them.
“O-of course,” Leon’s breath was shaky.
On the outside he might seem very nervous but on the inside he is doing cartwheels, he’s so excited to feel what it would be like to be inside of you. If your mouth was that heavenly you pussy had to be even better.
You hum in delight, “May I?” His eager nods was enough conformation for you.
Leon thought the look you gave him would make him cum on the spot. As you brought the shiny purple foil packet to your teeth, your eyes bore straight into his while you bat your lashes. You gripped the packet between your top and bottom teeth. As you pulled the packet down the foil slowly ripped open to reveal the lubed up latex. When you took it out of the wrapping your nose scrunched up at the slimy texture.
“I’m going to put it on now,” Leon couldn’t form any coherent words. All he could do was squeeze his eyes shut and throw his head back.
You gently place the cold rubber on Leon’s red tip. The cool sensation caused him to buck his upwards. In one fluid motion you slide the condom down while his hips went up. You made sure to leave room at the top to collect his cum. Still sitting back on his thighs you leaned back further putting your left hand on his ankle for support. Spreading your thighs apart you took your right hand and dipped your middle and ring finger between your folds. Your glistening pussy caused Leon’s dick to jerk on it’s own.
“Fuckk baby, you’re that wet?” Leon’s groans made you throw your own head back.
“See what you do to me Leon, you drive me insane,” You rubbed a few circles on your aching clit before slowing sinking your two fingers in your soppy hole.
Gasping from the sudden intrusion your fingers curled up against your walls causing your juices to drip from your hand.
“P-please, please please please let me feel you wrap around me, I can’t handle this anymore,” Leon begging was like a orchestra, an orchestra you could listen to all day.
Leon didn’t appreciate how lightly you took his begging, he was serious and he was dead set on being in you. Leon hooked his each hand behind your knees and slide you all the way to his chest. Chest to chest your hand was flushed against his crotch, although this didn’t last long. Wrapping your legs around his waist he dipped you back with your head slightly hanging off of the bed and him caging you in.
Leon was quick to yank your hand out of your wet hole as he lowered himself in-between your thighs. “Are you okay if I get a taste?”
You couldn’t believe your boyfriend, your sweet shy boyfriend is asking to eat you out. Lifting your head slightly you nod your as your wrap your fingers in his silky hair and buck your hips into his nose,
“Ah ah, use your words sweet girl,”
“YES! Yes please eat me out, I’ll do anything,” You shoved his head to your soaking core and he obliged to your begging.
Wrapping his hands around your thighs to keep them open he stuck his tongue out and licked one big stripe from your leaking hole to your puffy clit. The pornographic moan you let out had Leon slightly grinding his aching cock against the mattress.
“hmm fuck, you taste s’good,” Leon feasted upon you like a starved man. His tongue abused your clit with his small kitten licks and occasional kiss.
His nose bumped into your clit as he moved his tongue to your hole, teasing it slightly. Suddenly, he plunged his tongue in hitting the spongy spot you have dreamed about him hitting. Arching your back off the mattress your thighs squeezed his had as you pulled his hair.
“Oh fuck,”
“You like that baby?” His voice vibrated up your core causing your feet to curl.
Leon took this reaction as a good sign and continued to hit the same spot over and over again, despite his muscle getting tired, he would do anything to make you cum.
White spots invaded your vison as blood rushed to your hanging head. With the faint feeling and the overwhelming pleasure you could feel the knot tightening.
“Le-Leon,” Your breathes came out raggedy.
He hummed in acknowledgement sending more vibrations to your core, “I-I’m going to cu-cum, oh fuck,”
“Let go pretty girl, cum all over my face. Gods you taste so sweet,” His pace quickened and soon you were falling.
The knot snapped and stars flooded your vision as Leon drowned in your ecstasy.
“Fuck, just like that,” His thumbs rubbed circles on your thighs as you came down from the stars.
Leon slid your body down so your head was no longer hanging off of the bed. Your juices dripped from his chin onto your chest as he leaned over you caging your in.
“My sweet girl,” He crashed his lips into yours allowing you to taste your own juices.
You wiggled your hand in-between your sweaty bodies and pumped his raging cock. Leon moaned into the kiss the faster you moved your hand. Pulling back Leon wiped the rest of your juices with the back of his hand.
“Open up love,” Leon pinched your chin between his pointer, his index and his thumb just like the morning paper he reads every Sunday.
He softly opened your mouth for you and shoved his middle and ring finger in your mouth, “Now suck,”
The newfound dominance had you wanting more, always you wanted more. You loved seeing your boyfriend crack out of his shell. Of course, you loved his soft side too, but there something about the way he can easily over-power you and have you at his mercy that made your pussy throb.
Following your orders, your tongue worked around each digit before giving each one their own undivided attention. You would suck occasionally as your tongue waltzed around his fingers. You guys stayed like this for a few moments, you pumping his cock while you sucked on his fingers.
Once Leon was satisficed with your work he was quick to pull his fingers out of your mouth, “Such a good girl,”
Your fingers trailed his as he lowered them down to your core, “May I?” He quickly glanced in your direction.
“Please Leon, stuff my pussy with your fingers,” you groaned as you bucked your hips up for some friction.
“Yea? My sweet girl wants to be full? I think I could mange that,” Soon, he plunged his wet fingers in your hole. You arched your back off of the bed as both your hand went to grip the bedsheet.
“No,no,no love, you still have jerk me off. Can you do that for me?” His angelic voice contradicted his sinful acts.
You simply nodded your head as you brought your right hand back to pump his cock. Leon’s fingers curled upwards hitting the tip of your cervix, that made you see stars. Your tongue stuck out with drool dripping down the side of your mouth and your eyes in the back of your head. Leon’s abuse on your cervix got harder and faster and all you could think about is coming undone again. Although this time it felt different.... too different.
Your right hand gripped Leon’s moving arm and you scrunched up and squealed in his ear, “Leon s-stop I’m go-going to p-” before you could finish your pleas clear juices came out like a waterfall. You had just squirted all over your boyfriend, from his chest all the down to his thighs. Leon had just made you squirt. An act you thought your body would never be able to do, especially during your first time, and your boyfriend had just proved you wrong.
“oh what the fuck-” Leon mumbled under his breath as he pulled his soaked fingers out.
“What was that?” Leon was afraid he just hurt you. Did he break open something inside of you? are you in pain? Why the fuck was that so hot?
“Are you okay?” Falling back on the soaked bed you just nodded your head.
“I just squirted... Holy shit, I just squirted!” Leon was so confused.
“Sooo, I didn’t hurt or break you?” Your gazed soften at his concerned words.
“No love, you just took me to heaven and back. Now I want you to do it again. I can’t get enough of your Leon, I need you in me,”
“Are you sure, We can do that an-,” Your hand grabbed his still throbbing cock and led it towards your entrance.
“Please fill me,”
“Who am I to tell you no, you’ve been so good to me tonight,” His hand wrapped around yours as he teased your hole before sticking to tip in.
Leon thought he was going to cum right then and there. He was quick to pull back, “Baby I can’t, anymore and I’ll cum right away,”
“Come on baby, you can it, I believe in you. Take a deep breath, you can do it,” Leon followed your soft words as he stuck the tip back in. He took a sharp breath in-between his teeth as he eased himself into you. His head was thrown back and his eyes were glued shut.
The burning sensation brought tears to your eyes, how were you going to fit his thick cock into you is a mystery but you will sure as hell will try to take it all. Leon was about half way in when he finally opened his eyes and looked down at you. Fat tears slide down your cheeks as your forearm rested over your eyes.
Leon lightly pulled your arm away placing your hand above your head as tangled his fingers with yours. “Baby look at me,”
Opening your eyes you looked up to find Leon already looking back at you. His blue eyes bore into yours as he halted his movements.
“Are you okay?” His hand cups your face as he brushes a few stray tears away.
You nod your head a little, “Y-yes, the more you move the less it’ll hurt,” He just nodded his a head a little before he resumed his advancements.
The feeling of your warm pussy sheathed around him almost hurt but he couldn’t bring himself to pull out. You needed this just as much as he did, and he is willing to give it all to you.
Your legs wrapped around his waist with your feet slightly resting on his butt, pulling Leon in a little closer he finally bottomed out. All Leon could do is stay there in pure ecstasy.
“Let me know when you want me to move,” His words come out as a breathy moan as he looked down at you. Your bottom lip was trapped in-between your teeth as your eyes squeezed shut.
Taking a deep breath in, on the exhale you opened your eyes, “Okay..” Leon barely missed your que for him.
Sliding his hips back he was quick to move them forward again. His pace was slow and steady as his hips rocked back and forth against yours. Your back arched up and off of the bed as your nails found salvation on Leon’s back that would for sure leave red marks in the morning.
Leon dipped his head down near you ear, his sweet whimpers was the only thing you could hear. Moans pushed past your lips as you craved more.
“Faster,” You let out breathy moans as Leon picked up his pace.
The bed slightly creaked under your moving bodies as moans filled the room. With each thrust you were brought closer and closer to edge. Leon whispered sweet nothings into your ear.
A bead of sweat formed in his hairline as he kept up his pace. Your pussy was squeezing him so tightly. He knew he was close, and he hoped you were just as close.
“Fuck baby I’m going to cum,” Slapping skin and moans filled the room as you each neared your release.
Hot breath slid down your neck before Leon trailed kisses all along your collarbone.
“I’m close, I’m so so close,” Your words were like a mantra repeating over and over again.
Your clenched pussy made it harder for Leon to move as he got closer and closer.
“Leon, Leon Le-,” Arching up and off of the bed you fully clenched around him as you were pushed over the edge. Your juices wrapped around his cock and dripped out between your bodies.
The warmth of your pussy and wetness of your ecstasy was the final straw for Leon. “Fuck,” with one last slam of his hips into yours his cum filled the condom.
Your eyes stayed shut as you focused on your breathing, Leon trailed soft kisses around your face before he reached your lips. His soft lips pressed into yours before he spoke up once again. “I love you so much.”
ii. SYNOPSIS — Relentless stacks of paperwork and arrests during patrols have Leon busy all the time. It doesn’t help that you’re out of town for some work business. Feeling deprived of your touch, he hastily calls you while in his car, needing to hear your voice.
iii. CONTENT WARNINGS — 18+ content (MDNI) Sub!Leon, masturbation, phone sex, dirty talk, spit for lubrication, praise with tiny hints of condescending degradation (leon receiving) Focused mostly on Leon overall. Please check my DNI before interacting. Lowkey rushed, my bad LMAOO
Your boyfriend was a needy and pitiful mess. He stationed his car in an empty parking lot as soon as he got off his shift at the department. He had his lights turned off. He was ringing your phone, already having you on speaker in case you picked up. A bold move, but he never invested in a pair of earphones so it would have to do.
The slacks of his uniform were painfully tight, he needed you. Couldn’t get off on his own, he was fucking addicted to you. He used to be able to get off in just minutes by the simple thought of you. But he was getting greedy, you spoiled him rotten. He needed to feel you, or at least hear your voice coax him into an orgasm.
“C’mon,” he muttered out, running a hand through his messy hair out of desperation. His phone was beeping, the picture he had for your saved contact showing on his phone and illuminating his car a bit.
It was wishful thinking. It was midnight already, there’s no way you would–
“Hello?”
The greeting alone sent blood rushing to his cock, his mind was spinning at the sound of the voice he had been craving to hear the entire long and exhausting work day. His tongue ran across his lips, trying to make up for how dry his throat felt.
“Oh, thank god.” He let out an audible sigh of relief, one you could clearly hear over the phone. “I’m so sorry for calling so late and without any notice, it’s just…”
He chewed on his bottom lip nervously, not knowing how to continue his sentence. He couldn’t just straight up tell you that he had been fantasizing about you jerking him off for hours on end, right? The thought of your hands taking his uniform off at a tantalizing pace before finally wrapping your hand around his cock—it sounded so good. Or even the manner in which you’d teasingly run your fingers across his abdomen before tracing over the lines of his v-line, he was always so weak under your touch.
“It’s okay, I was awake catching up on a show anyway. You’ve been so busy lately and I miss you like crazy, I’m glad you called.” Your voice came through and he wanted to melt into a puddle in his car seat.
“I miss you too, so much. Listen—I’m kind of in a predicament right now,” he eventually managed to say with a breathless tone of voice, placing his hand on the bulge straining against his slacks, rubbing the area lightly and letting out a soft whimper. He hoped you’d get the picture, without having to vulgarly explain himself.
A beat, you registered the sound of Leon’s voice. He was horny, you could tell just by the undertone of need that seeped from his words. Usually he was more subtle, not so blatantly whimpering during a call. That was kinda hot though, your usually composed boyfriend was in need of release.
“Baby. Are you hard right now?”
The term of endearment made Leon’s heart quicken, there was something about the way you said it that made heat blossom across his cheeks. “Guilty.”
You could be cruel sometimes, but not today. Not when you hadn’t touched Leon in nearly three weeks because of conflicting schedules.
“Take your belt off,” your voice was gentle but Leon knew you were instructing him. “And let me hear it, too. Wanna know you’re listening to me.”
There was something about you bossing him around that was so incredibly sexy, he momentarily set his phone down on one of his thighs so you could hear the clanking of metal as he fumbled to take off his belt and gear. It took him longer than usual, and the adrenaline pumping through him made him hear his own pulse in his ears.
“Okay,” fuck, his voice was quivering and his belt was discarded off onto the passenger seat. “What now?”
“Mm,” you thought about it for a moment, just to tease him. Eventually, you settled on a response. “Stroke yourself over your boxers, and tell me what that pretty mind of yours was thinking about all day.”
He was a good boy, unzipping his pants and slipping his right hand underneath—finding the shape of his cock and gliding his hand up and down. The fabric of his boxers was already wet with his precum, it was sticking almost uncomfortably to him. His free hand found purchase on the edge of his car seat, short nails digging into the leather of it.
“I, uh.” He was stammering, mind struggling to formulate a coherent thought. You did this on purpose, making him talk even when he was struggling.
“C’mon sweetheart, you can do better than that. Don’t tell me you went all dumb just by touching yourself for a single second.”
Those taunts, fuck, that condescending tone you took. The windows of his car were undoubtedly going to fog up with all the ragged breaths he was taking. “Was thinking about your hand on my cock, and that thing you do with your thumb—like…oh fuck, when you rub the tip with it.”
A babbling mess, that’s what he was. “T–Thought about you spitting on my cock, and the way you look at me while you do. Want you. Need you.”
“Atta boy,” your praise made him gasp—the words shooting straight down the gutter. “Keep going, you sound so fucking pretty.”
He was almost drooling with the way his jaw was slackened, his lips feeling dry with each intake of breath through his mouth. Only you were given the heavenly experience of hearing all his little sounds, the hiccup of his breath and broken sobs.
“Can I touch myself now, please?” His request was quiet, spoken in a bashful manner.
You laughed at his question, wanting to play with him a little. “What do you mean? You are touching yourself.”
“Yeah but…” he let out a whine, beginning to feel frustrated. So damn impatient, the call had only been running for a few minutes and he was already being pouty. “Like, without my boxers. That’s what I meant. Please? I don’t know how much longer I can go.”
“So dirty. Where are you right now, Leon?”
He wanted to growl at you, how could you be asking such an unnecessary question in the middle of this? Were you trying to torture him? You didn’t even answer his oh so nicely worded request.
“Does it matter?” There was a little bit of frustration in his voice. Could he take his boxers off or not? “Parking lot.”
“Ah, right. So you’re asking me if you can take your boxers off in a public parking lot and touch yourself, then? You’re a cop, aren’t you? Isn’t that public indecency?”
“Babe.” His voice was so whiny, fingers getting ready to reach under his boxers. “Please. Just let me, there’s no one around, promise.” He craved your permission, even if he didn’t necessarily need it to touch himself.
You were so going to give him shit over this the next time the two of you hung out in person. “So impatient, fine, go ahead.”
His boxers were hastily shoved further down as soon as he got the green light, his fingers wrapping around his neglected cock. Tears brimmed at his eyes at the relief that flooded his senses, letting out a hiss as he stroked himself.
He imagined his hand was yours, mimicking the way you would touch him because he had it all memorized. “Oh god,” his eyes fluttered shut as his head tilted back towards the headrest—hips bucking up into his own hand. “Thank you, thank you, thank you…”
“That’s it, keep going.” Hearing your boyfriend in such a messy state was getting to you too, your own hand snaking down your figure to the place that ached. “Spit on it.”
“What?” The command made him lose focus, his mind spinning with each passing second, “oh, wait, okay. Fuck, that’s hot.”
It was an easy task for him, saliva having already gathered in his mouth from the way he had been too focused on all the pleasure to even swallow. He let his spit land on the tip, watching as it ran it’s way down to the base.
With a high-pitched moan, he kept on going—a little faster than before. He was losing it, his rhythm progressively getting more sloppy as his stomach got tighter and tighter.
He really should’ve turned his ignition on so he could have some AC in his damn car, his uniform was going to be damp with sweat after this. Whatever, he owned a washing machine.
He could hear your encouragement and dirty talk, but he was too out of it to really pay attention. It didn’t matter, all he needed to know was that you were on the other line of the call, that’s the only way he could come in this situation.
“Not gonna last much longer,” he rasped out, giving the base of his cock some firm squeezes—the same motion you did to him whenever you gave him a handjob.
“I know,” you truly did, you could tell by the way he hadn’t responded to any of your praising comments, instead only receiving a mixture of heavy and uneven breathing as a response. “You can do it, sweetheart. Make a mess all over yourself.”
“Mm,” he heard that praise though, his knees felt like jelly. His hand was starting to cramp up but that was the last thing on his mind.
“Please,” he had no clue what he was begging for, the tears that glazed over his eyes started to spill. He hated that it wasn’t enough. Yeah, he was about to come, but his hand made only a decent substitute for yours.
“Gonna come, gonna come,” he repeated the phrase over and over again until his voice nearly gave out, “fuck, gonna—“
His eyebrows were knit together prettily, breathing momentarily paused as he gave some final tugs before his eyes rolled back, his hearing failing on him as all the noises turned to static.
He let out a silent moan, stripes of white landing onto the vest of his uniform. He inhaled and exhaled shuddering breaths as his body shook, slumping against his seat. His body felt limp and weak, hand cramping up from the way he had been going at it. “Oh my god…”
You gave him a couple moments to recuperate himself, “feeling good?”
“Better than good. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t picked up my call,” all the sexual tension of the day was finally exhausted from him, lazy smile forming on his face as he tried to catch his breath—he could hear you laughing over the phone.
“Gotten blue balls or something. Sooo, are you going to write yourself up now for public indecency?”
“You’re never going to let me live this down, are you?”
𝐑𝐄𝐅𝐋𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 FT. LEON KENNEDY 𖦹°‧ ** leon remember your first and last encounter
W/C : 650
C/W : mention of death/blood/zombies
𝐒𝐄𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟑𝟎, 𝟏𝟗𝟗𝟖. It was the day Leon Kennedy would never forget. The cop inside him died that day. His heart died that day. Because he lost faith in humanity.
Because he lost you.
Leon sighed as he leaned back against his couch, closing his eyes. It has been six years since that day, since your death.
At night, he did have nightmares of those monstrous creatures, but he also dreamed of you.
He dreamed of your smile when you first met; he dreamed of your light chuckle at his stupid joke, even though the hell you two were in, your lips softly kissing his…
He grinned sadly, alone in his apartment, putting his hands over his face. How pathetic he was, he thought, for still thinking of you even after all those years…
“Are you a cop ?”
Your voice echoed in the car as he showed you a little proud smile.
“Yeah, Leon Kennedy. And you ?”
You smiled at him, but you were still scared about what was happening in the city.
Leon thought your name suited you well- a lovely name for a lovely woman.
And your smile, God, he wished he knew you sooner because now he wanted to see it every day. But unfortunately, the situation didn’t give any hope to smile.
Grunting in pain, you fell to the ground as your hand held your stomach. Sensing you weren’t behind him anymore, Leon rushed by your side with a worried expression.
“No, no..”
He pressed his hands on your injury, his blue eyes scanning your face.
“Are you okay ? Can you walk ? Come on, we’re almost there.”
He said, he sounded desperate.
Because this was supposed to be his first day, and it turned out to be a hell. But at least he was with you, you, who were just a survivor. You who stuck by his side.
“Leon..”
You whispered with a soft smile, one bloody hand cupping his cheek. He shook his head; he didn’t want to believe it.
“It’s too late, go before it’s too late for you too. Please.”
He pressed harder, tears rolling down his cheeks.
“Bullshit. I’m picking you up, there’s no way I’m leaving you here—“
You cut him off by pressing your lips gently against his, offering him a sweet kiss. His body froze, trying to understand what was happening.
Your tears mixed with his as you pulled away, your thumb caressing his cheek.
“I won’t forgive myself if you die, please, save yourself when you still can.”
He rested his forehead against yours at your words, closing his eyes.
“No, I-I must save you.”
The sounds of the groans of the contaminated people got closer, and you gently pushed him away.
“Leave, now.”
You stood up with difficulty, blood was still coming out of your injury as you paled even more. He watched you with his ocean eyes, whispering your name.
Then, when the zombies arrived where you two were, you jumped on them with open arms so they wouldn’t reach Leon.
You screamed in pain as you felt your skin be eaten, your eyes meeting his scared ones.
“Please, run away. For me.”
Those were your last words, before you closed your eyes. Leon wanted to scream, raising his gun. But deep inside, he knew it was too late.
So, with the heart heavy, he ran away. His blurry vision caused him to fall a few times, but he kept running.
For you. You gave your life for him, so he swore he would live for you.
Opening his eyes, he exhaled through his nose as he straightened on his couch.
He got a call today for a new mission. He was supposed to save the president’s daughter.
And he promised, to whom well, he himself didn’t know, that he would succeed in this mission in one piece.
