imgonnagetyouback (leon's pov)
leon kennedy x fem!reader
summary: they say you don't know what you've got until its gone. leon kennedy was dead set on proving that to you. inspired by taylor swift's song, imgonnagetyouback. before continuing, read the original series here.
cw: re9!leon, mean!leon, possessive!leon, dso!reader, brat!reader, large age gap, toxic relationship, sexual tension, alcoholism, jealousy, possessiveness, power imbalance, weapons, mentions of re8, no use of y/n
part one two three of three | divider cred @/suupersonic
Your call has been forwarded to an automatic voice messaging system. At the tone, please record y-
Leon pulled the phone away from his ear before the tone sounded, ending the call with the tap of his thumb as his jaw tightened. He didn’t bother to leave a message. He had already left one… two? He couldn’t remember, and at this point it didn’t really matter. You hadn’t responded to a single text or call.
He dropped the phone onto his lap and leaned back in his seat, raking his hands over his tired face. The Porsche purred gently beneath him as he sat in his driveway in the dark, in the unfamiliar silence. He had climbed into the car with every intention of driving to your house, where you likely lay, alone, layers of bandages wrapped around your thigh. You had strict orders to stay off of your leg for the next few weeks. You had to hate that. And in this state, who was taking care of you, if anyone, he wondered?
Leon exhaled slowly through his nose and tipped his head back against the seat before forcing it forward. You were partnered again now, yes, but you had made it clear how disappointed you were in that decision. And it wasn’t personal, but Penn wasn’t ready, and there was proof of that in your file now. So it didn’t take much convincing- the director was fairly agreeable when Leon had suggested he be assigned to a non-combat unit. Desk work, mostly. Somewhere he couldn’t get anyone killed. Somewhere far away from you.
Leon’s fingers tapped against the steering wheel before going still again. After a second, he reached forward and killed the engine before heading back into the house, his boots hard against the pavement.
He dropped his keys onto the counter with a clatter and shrugged out of his leather jacket lined with fur, tossing it over the back of a chair without looking. For all of the money he brought in from DSO, his apartment had just the bare essentials…a chair, a desk, and a bed.
He viewed it as a place to sleep, or not…a place to sort things out, or not. He never really stayed anywhere long enough for it to become anything else, certainly not a home. And the closest thing he had had to home, well… was wherever you were. And he didn’t want to think about that.
The laptop was already open where he’d left it, the glow of the screen cutting through the dim lighting of the room as he sat down. A few taps to the keyboard brought everything he had been studying up- Rhodes Hill maps, reports, and grainy stills filled the screen. Leon reached over and grabbed his glasses, slipping them on as his focus narrowed.
His attention would snap to his phone every time it lit up before he could stop himself, only to find it wasn’t you. He would wonder if you were actually following the doctor’s orders or if you were pushing yourself too soon to prove a point. He would wake up in the middle of the night certain that he had heard your voice. God, was he going crazy?
For the sake of his career and his sanity, he tried to stay busy. The Rhodes Hill case was taking up much of his attention, anyways. And when that wasn’t enough, he drank. And after awhile, days turned into weeks without much difference between them. Early mornings and late nights blurred the lines. He got through it the way he always did, working, with no distractions.
Until he pulled into the parking lot one day, expecting it to be every other, except you were standing by your car parked in the handicap spot. One hand was braced on a crutch and the other was holding a stack of files. Leon could tell that your movements were careful, slower, tighter, like you knew every step had to be calculated to accommodate your injury.
Despite it all, though, you were in heels and a long skirt. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes at that when suddenly, you lost your balance and let out what looked like a sharp curse as one of your crutches clattered to the asphalt and your files spilled out of your bag onto the ground.
He was out of the car before he could even register the decision. The sound of the door slamming shut behind him made you look up, and whatever expression you had been wearing for the moment you were alone changed the minute you saw him, into something guarded.
“Don’t,” you said, before he even got close. “I’ve got it.”
He ignored you, crouching down to pick up the papers near your feet. They were patient files. You had been working while on leave, he concluded.
“We should… go over Rhodes Hill,” he said, in an attempt to keep things professional and try to relate to you in any way he knew how. What a desperate attempt. He continued anyways. “I’ve got ideas on how to-“
You cut him off with a short laugh as you threw your hands up. “Of course you do! Of course you fucking do.”
He looked up at you then, like really looked at you. The crutch, the stiffness in your stance, the way you were holding yourself together- barely. He pitied you.
“I can work it on my own,” you continued, taking the files back from him when he held them out. “I’m not cleared for field work, Leon, and I won’t be for awhile. Obviously,” you said, his eyes grazing over your right leg as you gestured toward it.
“That doesn’t change things-“ he started.
“It changes me,” you shot back, rising to your feet, steady this time.
For a second, neither of you moved. The parking lot suddenly felt small. And then it cracked wide open.
“Do you have any idea what I’ve been through?” Leon said, his voice rising before he could stop it. “I’ve spent the last 20 god damn years walking into situations I had no chance of walking back out of the same person I was when I went in.”
He stood fully now, and his fists were clenched at his sides. “I’ve spent my entire life in the unknown, cleaning up messes I didn’t make, and I,” he paused, but the words continued as he caught up to everything he never said out loud. “…I have put my life on the line. Raccoon City, fucking Spain, the B.O.W.s… And I still show up.”
“I-,” you started, much quieter this time.
“The point is, this job changes you,” he said, cutting in, slower this time, making sure you actually heard it. “It takes things from you that you don’t get back. And you can either lay down and let it ruin you or accept it and move on.”
For the first time, you had looked at him differently. Was it pity, too? Or something else? Whatever it was, he could tell this version of him didn’t fit anywhere in the one you once held.
“I’m sorry,” you said, at last. “For what you’ve been through.”
He saw your grip on the crutch tighten as you adjusted your stance. You looked at him one last time before turning toward the building, moving carefully up the path towards the doors.
Leon didn’t move right away. He watched you step into the office, your words- simple, but real- settling heavy in his mind. Only then did he drag a hand back through his hair as he looked across the lot. He should have left it at that. He should have let you go right then and there. But he didn’t. A few more words settled in his mind, too: he was going to get you back.
In the weeks following, Leon was… careful with you. It was challenging, working closely again and maintaining boundaries. You mostly ignored him, and he tried to do the same. You worked together only when necessary, but when he would go by your office, your door was often closed. He needed to blow off some steam, and that was what brought him to the DSO gun range in the basement.
But the reprieve was short-lived.
As Leon typed his code into the keypad, he first noticed your hair which was pulled up, revealing the straps of your duty harness. At this point, you had lost the crutches and were set up on your own two feet at a lane, your shoulders squared with your beloved Silencer 9 at the end of your outstretched arms. He didn’t announce himself, but he stood a few feet behind you where he could see your form clearly as you took a few shots. He saw them land on the edges of the target.
“You’re compensating on the left,” he said simply, with slight hesitation in his voice. “That’s going to throw your aim.”
You adjusted automatically, without saying anything, but the weight you shifted still wasn’t quite right by his eyes. He approached then, and reached out to lightly guide your shoulder back by a fraction.
“Like that,” Leon said, quieter now.
He watched you as you fired then, the hole on the target sheet now much closer to center than before. “Thanks,” you said, your back still to him as you unloaded the weapon and set it down with a thud.
Leon turned to head to his own lane when you faced him. You were looking down at your hands as you said, “A few weeks ago… in the parking lot,” you started. “I-“
“It’s fine,” Leon cut in. “We don’t have to revisit it.”
“Okay,” you said, a shade of pink spreading across your cheeks.
Leon watched you for a moment before speaking again, breaking awkward silence.
“So, how is physical therapy going?” he asked.
You huffed slightly. “Truthfully?” You paused, as if contemplating whether or not you wanted to continue this conversation. “I hate my trainer. I have no idea why the director paired me with someone so… idiotic.”
“Ouch,” he joked, rubbing his arms. “I won’t take that personally.”
You smirked at that, and here he was again, speaking before thinking, and he didn’t want to push, but he couldn’t help himself as he said, “I can… train you… if you want.”
He wouldn’t admit it but for the first time since he was a 20 year old rookie cop, he was nervous. Though it was only a few seconds, it felt like eternity awaiting your answer as you blinked at him, considering it.
“Okay,” you said again, simply, but a little more confident this time, and Leon could have sworn he saw a smile tease at your lips as you turned back toward your lane.
...after you had finished physical therapy under his instruction (blood, sweat, and tears included), after you had (impressively) taken down Victor Gideon at Rhodes Hill, and after he had (drunkenly) made the decision to show up at your house in the middle of the night, somewhere along the way, you were back in Leon's life. It had taken conversation, understanding, and at times, sacrifice, from the both of you. And after all you had been through on your own and together, it had taken some getting used to, but it felt good. Right.
Penn’s presence in his life, on the other hand, had taken longer. Leon had admittedly made that difficult in the months following, mostly on principle, until you got involved and made it very clear that if he wanted to keep his motorcycle from being reassigned to “agency use only,” he was going to learn how to act like a functional adult and apologize like one too. Those were your exact words, as he could recall it.
And, as much as Leon hated to admit it, Penn turned out to be fine. He was still a little too green for Leon’s liking, but not as stupid as he once thought he was. If you had forgiven him for your injury, he supposed he could too. It was progress.
And progress apparently looked like bringing you out to ‘Quantico’ to meet up with Marco and Penn for the annual pool tournament. Leon was used to time flying, god knew his age proved it, but how had it already been a year?
“You know, I am ordained,” Marco started, his eyes lingering on Leon’s arm around your shoulders.
“Shut up,” Leon replied, looking over at you as you smiled down at your drink in your lilac skirt, it fitting you like skin. You had made so much progress yourself in the last few months, now finally comfortable to show your scar in public. You were more beautiful than any bride, he thought. And he was sure to remind you of that as often as he could.
“What?! This is a huge deal,” Marco continued. “So let’s just make it official.”
You had lifted your head then and Leon felt a sudden rush anticipating what you’d say. This time, though, it wasn’t unease. It was reverence. Pride.
“Yeah?” you said. “I think I’d like to declare your winning streak officially over.”
Leon was just glad your smart mouth wasn’t directed at him as he smirked and looked away, trying not to lose himself in laughter.
Before Marco could respond, something like betrayal plastered over his face, Penn stepped beside him.
“Hey everyone,” he said to the group, Leon noticing his eyes, which were sad as they wandered to your leg.
Leon extended his hand. Maybe it would help… Leon was trying to be more ‘emotionally available,’ as you had called it. “Good to see you, agent.”
Penn nodded and smiled as he shook Leon’s hand. Beside Penn stood Grace, a new agent who Penn had met in the research unit of the FBI. Leon had assumed they were together now. A good fit, he had thought, and not just because Penn’s eyes were no longer on you. Leon supposed she could teach him a thing or two.
“Agent Kennedy,” she said, smiling at him.
“It’s Leon,” he started. “Nice to see you, too, Grace.”
Marco clapped once, forcing the group into movement. “Alright. Let’s go. I have a reputation to uphold, people!”
And suddenly, the tables near the pool table were surrounded by agents who were focused in on the game like the ninth inning of the World Series. And as annoyed as Leon often was at Marco, he had to admit- he was amazing at pool. But despite the fact that you had only played three games of billiards in your life and that you had two buckets of beer to yourself, you were dead set on humbling him.
And in that moment, as he watched you, Leon thought back to the night he saw you here with Penn, in his jacket, your head tilting back in laughter, and realized that all that time- he wasn’t jealous of Penn, he was jealous of you. Your lust for life, your unguardedness, your ability to be fully present. He wanted that for you, and for himself, too.
So he watched you as the cue rested lightly on your fingers. You took the final shot. It was assured, relaxed, and intentional. All the things you’d taught him to be.
The 8-ball dropped into the socket with a satisfying thunk. Over the noise of the bar erupting in celebration, Leon could hear you squeal in excitement as you threw your arms around his shoulders. Marco groaned as Leon, who was holding onto you, said to him, “Consider yourself dethroned.”
“Dethroned!” you repeated, pointing at Marco with the cue, your balance waning. It was always going to be noticeable with how many drinks you consumed, but now with your new gait, Leon noticed immediately. He didn’t give you time to argue as one hand hooked around your thighs and the other steadied you as he lifted you up in a smooth motion over his shoulder. Your weight was nothing to him and he smiled as you laughed, kicking your bare legs in a lazy protest as he headed towards the door.
Behind him, Marco called out, “Yeah! Take her! Before she starts another war! This isn’t over!”
Penn laughed at that and Grace gave a small wave. “Good night.”
Leon gently placed you in the passenger seat of the Porsche and buckled your seat belt before shutting the door and circling around to the driver’s seat. He started the engine, and as it roared to life, he realized he no longer needed the music to think. He was right where he was meant to be, he thought, as he shifted into drive and sped off in the opposite direction of your house.
“Where are we going?” you asked euphorically, your words slightly slurred, but curious nonetheless. “Did you forget where I live?”
Leon reached over and rested a hand on your thigh as he looked into your eyes, which were sparkling with joy. He didn’t know if you could tell through the alcohol-induced haze, but his were too.
“No, baby,” he said with a short laugh. “I didn’t forget. We’re going somewhere new. Home.”
tag! @cakeofhorrors @wastedpanda @idiotmelk @devilsmatches @heartsigha @ilovemusics-stuff @liz9898 @blackholesponge @diabolical16 @astraioses @2014grungelover @ae12moonss @sweetsassytaegi @defvia @gabithefanwriter @notsurvivingleon @2014grungelover @xsicksadgirl
a/n: CANT believe its over!!! i had so much fun seeing your reactions to all of the fuckery leon and reader were up to. thank you for reading through to the end. i hope you enjoyed reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it!
im ready to dive right into something new... so let me know what you'd like to see by sending me a request. stay tuned for what's next <3
