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Leon ran his hands through his hair, still a little shaky from the alcohol withdrawal. A sudden beep drew him out of his mind. Hunnigan.
“Leon, we need you to meet the new B.S.A.A. transfer outside.” Hunnigan smirked through the phone. “I think you’ll like her.” she chuckled darkly, the crackling of her microphone ending before Leon could get the last word in.
“I don’t need Hunnigan setting me up with anyone.” he grumbled as he walked outside, slouched and rambling more to himself than anyone. He headed outside, his hand covering his forehead as the sharp rays of the sun glared at him, the light catching off something.
It was you. A girl on a Ducati, an older model than his. Leon immediately assessed your gear - the B.S.A.A. must have paid well. He wonders why you’d been transferred, why Hunnigan had been so vague - did you have a fallout with Redfield?
And how much he wanted you to ride him like the bike. Leon’s eyes nearly popped out of his skull when you parked in front of him, taking your helmet off and shaking your hair. He was suddenly aware of how dirt-covered and rough he was, dusting off his jeans and wishing you would wrap those gloved hands around his neck and choke him out.
“Leon Kennedy. You must be the new B.S.A.A. transfer.” Leon tried to say smoothly, but it came out more like a broken garble as you nearly crushed his hands in yours.
“Y/N, but you can just call me ma’am.” you winked at Leon, hopping off your bike and throwing your gloves into the fold of your sleek waterproof backpack. You were wearing a fully kitted set of gear, sleek on your body.
Leon’s eyes bugged out as he noticed how your jacket pulled over your muscles, the thought of seeing you in nothing but those jeans on top of him, making his knees buckle out from under him just a little. He nearly fell on his chin when your rough hand settled on his chest. You were perceptive, noticing the little changes in his body movement, his breathing. Who were you and why hadn’t you given your surname?
But now he had to work with you. Great.
“Ma’am huh?” He tried to sound authoritative, his lips in an “o” shape that came out more as a choking sound. “I’m the one that’s going to…train you.” he cleared his throat.
“Yeah I figured. So what are we starting with, chief?” you asked, leaning against the wall and lighting a cigarette.
God. Why did a cigarette look so hot when
you
held it between your lips? Leon felt his pants growing tight as he cleared his throat again, averting his eyes from your lips.
“First thing.” he managed to choke out of the tense words held back by his sternocleidomastoid muscles, both bunched up from throwing up cheap whiskey and watching you prance around. “Stop smoking. Bad for your lungs.” he said, slipping into an authoritative voice like an ill-fitting skin suit.
“No.” you said simply, taking another puff. “Okay then, are we starting with an endurance or strength test?” you enquired as you crushed the cigarette out against the wall near his face.
Leon swallowed again, trying and failing to keep his eyes level with yours.
“Endurance.” he murmured weakly, his voice wavering just a little. He gestured with a lazy flick of his hands to follow him inside. You wondered just what he could do with those long, slender fingers, and if they’d fill you. You chuckled at the thought.
Leon led you to the gym, his eyes half-hooded on your curves as you followed him. He ran a hand through his dark hair, traces of blonde dye still lingering at the tips.
“First test. Treadmill. Go as high as you can. We’ll see how long you can last.” Leon said almost suggestively, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his neck surreptitiously.
You stripped down to spanks and a sports bra, hopping on the treadmill at a steady pace, setting up the inclination a little steeper. It was clear endurance wasn’t your strongsuit, which made Leon wonder if your strength was perhaps where you truly shone-
Leon almost swallowed his tongue when you stripped down to your underwear. He tried to keep it together as he watched your feet tense, heels balanced as your thighs, - oh God those thighs wrapped around his neck as you rode his face -
“Good.” he croaked out. “Keep going. Keep going, come on ba-” he was more breathless than you at this point, sweat starting to shine on his skin.
“Are you trying to edge me or something?” you groaned as you gripped onto the handrail with one hand, and all that Leon could think about was how you’d look like that, perhaps after railing him to high heaven.
Leon’s jaw was hanging open as he stared at you. “I-ah-” he let out a shaky breath, shaking his head as he snapped out of his reverie.
“No, not at all-” he mumbled, quickly glancing away from you. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to think of anything but those images of him in compromising positions, bound and gagged. It’s not that he was opposed to all that, it’s just that women seemed to think he was…dominant?
“Not bad.” He managed to say. “But I’ve seen better.”
And a bit of a brat too, he thought. “Endurance isn’t my focus.” you growled, stretching. Leon baulked at the sight of your muscular thighs. “Hard to run with these things. How about you get on and show us your endurance?” you chuckled, throwing water down your gullet.
Leon stripped down to his shorts, body still lean and rough despite his alcoholism, since Leon didn’t live off much except neat whiskey and the occasional coffee. Leon started at a steady pace, then arched his back as your breath ghosted across the cool sweat of his back. His uncut, jagged nails dug into the handrails as you whispered. “That's all you got?” while switching up the inclination to max.
Leon hadn’t been challenged in so long, and he was absolutely whipped for you. He strained heavily against the resistance the machine offered, only amplified by your hot breath on his back, your hand hovering over the small of his back.
That’s when Ingrid Hunnigan walked in with a smirk. She switched the treadmill off, her lips trembling with mirth as Leon nearly got ragdolled off the machine, holding onto a thread of pride.
Leon’s eyes followed the water running down the calves, his eyes roaming your body, and Hunnigan’s a little, too.
“Muscular.” he confirmed under his breath, his eyes tracing your thighs. He had to use all of his willpower not to pull your pants down right there, shove his tongue between your thighs and get crushed. As if you read his mind, or perhaps shared similar thoughts, his eyes popped out as your thighs tensed as if his tongue had hit the right spot.
“What is your strong suit, then?” he asked roughly as he averted his eyes. You cracked your neck, grabbing Leon and suplexing him against the falling mat. “Strength, baby. And accuracy with weaponry.” you grunted, shoving him into the mat, knee into his back.
“Agent Zinoviev!” Hunnigan snapped at you in irritation, her smile fading and heels clicking sharply against the gym floor. “Need I remind you why the B.S.A.A. transferred you here? Do you
want
to be out of a job for putting our best agent out of action?” Ingrid snapped.
“Apologies, ma’am.” you nodded, panting, the smile wiped off your face in an instant, but your pussy still throbbing as you collapsed next to Leon.
“Sorry.” you mumbled in a meek apology to Leon, burying your head into your own shoulder, cheeks lightly dusted pink, embarrassed. You really thought you were some kind of badass, but just a girl with anger issues, really.
Leon let out a rather undignified noise somewhere between a gasp and a moan as you threw him against the floor, his body hitting the mat with a thud. He looked up at you with wide eyes, his heartbeat quickening as he realised how strong you actually were as your entire body shook with pent up aggression and frustration.
“God damn.” he ached breathlessly, staring at you from across the floor. “Did I mention I hate you?” he exhaled harshly, feeling a cracked rib digging into his lung.
“Did I mention I have a thing for degradation?” you chuckled, collapsing. At that, Hunnigan shouted. “Enough!”, pulling you right out of a destructive place you were so well known for. Oh, and Chris knew like no other.
You shook your head, biting your lip enough to let it bleed. Just a cog in the machine, just like Leon.
“Down.” Ingrid commanded, making you sag a little, not making eye-contact. You’d transferred here after meeting Ingrid at a networking meeting, and you’d explained to her you’d disobeyed Chris Redfield in the field, being jobless.
“You have one more chance. Don’t fuck it up.” she warned. “Your training is going to be a simulated outbreak.” Hunnigan explained. “We have several different scenarios set up in a closed-off compound in a forest. We’ll watch your progress on the cameras.” she said cheerfully. “Cheer up, kid.” she cooed. You nodded curtly.
You stalked soundlessly into the locker room, Leon at your heels like a puppy, the end of his tongue slipping out his mouth a little. As you assessed the material of the outfits, Leon tried his best to look cool, like his feet didn’t ache, like he didn’t want you to slap him through the face while riding him.
“Protective but too heavy.” you muttered, grabbing a ceramic vest, ignoring the heavier Kevlar that they didn’t even stock in women’s sizes. You grumbled as you realised they were testing your ability to kit out with shitty gear. You grabbed the ceramic-embedded vest, grunting as you gave it wordlessly to Leon to fit on you. He nodded, fingers trembling as he finally fitted you with it, the slit of your pussy pushing through your combat pants as you fumbled at your knee pads.
Leon walked out promptly, falling to his knees outside the locker room. Fuck, how was he going to handle you
outside
of bed? Never mind how hotheaded, aggressive and downright clinically insane you were.
But Claire and Ada didn’t seem to satiate his desire for women anymore, he thought as you burst through the door with a huff, indicate that your fingers could probably fill him up well too, fuck.
“Leon and Hunnigan waited outside the locker room as you changed, Leon sneaking glances at the door and trying to keep his mind off your body.”
“She’s certainly feisty.” Hunnigan said bluntly. Leon rolled his eyes, promptly getting up as Hunnigan pulled him up with a surprisingly strong grip.
“Yeah. You could have warned me she was going to be attractive.” He grumbled. Hunnigan snicked. “You keep fumbling women. Remember Angela?” Ingrid smirked.
“That was years ago!” he groaned, wincing at how his last action had been a little teasing from Ada in Langshiang and kissing Angela. The alcoholic was touch-starved.
“What are you ladies gossiping about!?” you barked from the front door, cocking the Barrett sniper rifle more to get attention than show off. Leon nearly choked on his tongue when you appeared in your outfit, he had to adjust his pants to stop his cock from aching. He smirked at you, trying to regain his cool.
“N-nothing.” he breathed out.
Hunnigan chuckled as Leon stuttered, clearly losing his cool around you. “Just about how you’re making Leon act all weird.” she giggled.
“Oh, so he’s not usually this nonverbal?” you winked at Ingrid, getting dropped off into the car. “Looks like he enjoys being bullied by women.” you winked back at Leon.
He rolled his eyes, more out of primal instinct, driving the both of you to the training compound. He glanced in the mirror at you, taking your figure in before his eyes snapped back at the road. He wasn’t sure if he was in love or horny as sin, really, but he hadn’t really had a thought since you had driven into his life.
“I’m usually a smartass.” he grumbled truthfully. Hunnigan nodded in assent as the car bounced over a hole in the road. “And I know how to flirt. Right, Hunnigan?” Leon said hopefully.
“If that were the case, wouldn’t you and Hunnigan be a thing?” you said without turning back, your eye catching him in the mirror.
Leon looked ready to drive the car off the road as Hunnigan snickered next to him. “God no.” Leon blurted out, his ears tipped red.
Hunnigan chuckled and leaned forward. “He’s a little shy, you know. He likes to be bossed around. I like a rougher man, no offence, Leon.”
“None taken.” he grumbled.
“Good thing I’m bossy, then.” you snorted as they dropped us off for the outbreak simulation. “Well, this is cheerful.”you murmured as you slung your sniper over your shoulder.
“-and you really broke up with Redfield?” was the hushed, almost secretive sentence Hunnigan whispered back at you. “He’s my type, you know.” she chuckled.
“Ingrid, shut it.” you warned, wordlessly getting out of the car before Leon could even park. “Jesus Christ woman, do I have to put the safety lock on for you!?” Leon yelled in frustration, wondering how Chris put up with you. Why had Chris never mentioned you? He usually never shut up about his girlfriends.
“Oh honey you are whipped.” Hunnigan cooed, driving off. “See you at the extraction point in two hours. I know she’ll be fine, but you…hmm. I wonder.” Hunnigan giggled as she shifted into the driver’s seat.
You winked at the camera, then took note of my surroundings. “You guys got real infected for this “simulation”? Really?” you groaned as you started to kite and call attention to the infected with small calls to group them through the forest as Leon thumped his head against a tree.
Leon couldn’t help but gawk when you winked at the camera, something about you taking charge and commanding attention making his trousers tighten. He pushed the thought away as you began the simulation, kiting the infected and grouping them together. The horde of “fakes” moved together, snarling and shambling towards both of you. You winced, wondering who the poor souls were that were forced to be used for the completion of your training.
“You’re…good at this.” Leon managed, raising his Beretta and picking off one of the infected.
“Stop shooting. Shoot at one and group them. Kite them through the forest line.” you explained as we zigzagged through the forest slowly.
Leon froze as you barked your order, but quickly snapped himself out of it. He couldn’t help but find you even more attractive now, commanding him like this. He holstered the Beretta and drew a combat knife instead, moving through the forest with you and taking out several of the infected at once.
“What then?” he asked as you neared the edge of the forest. The infected were following closely behind.
“This.” you explained as you ran ahead, pulling Leon along with you. I shoved him to the ground, using him to steady my sniper scope. I took out the clump of the closest infected.”
Leon found himself being pulled along by you, stumbling and falling to the earth like a puppy. He swallowed loudly as you climbed on top of him, pressing down on him as you steady your sniper rifle. He had to stop himself from gasping, the weight of your body on top of him making his heart pound.
“G-God, please tell me you’re this dominant.” he mumbled, and then cursed himself as he realised he'd said it out loud.
“Uh yeah pretty much.” you groaned as you got off Leon, the rain falling down on us. You slicked your hair back, dragging Leon along with you.
Leon wanted to sink into the ground for a few moments - he was blushing furiously and hoped it was hidden by the rain. He followed, unable to prevent his eyes from travelling over your frame as you pushed your hair back. He swallowed, clearing his throat as he tried to regain what dignity he had left.
“How do you know so much about…this?” he asked as glanced back at the horde of infected, still stumbling behind them. “Are you ex-military?”
“I thought you had more brain cells. Daughter of Nikolai Zinoviev of Umbrella. Not a fan of his. Classically trained.”
Leon’s eyes widened and he stumbled, looking at you in shock. You’re Nikolai Zinoviev’s daughter?” he exclaimed, shock in his voice. He suddenly understood your ability - you had grown up with a military background and father like Nikolai, it was no wonder you were strong, but pretty messed up in the head.
“Jesus Christ, no wonder you’re the perfect woman.” he blurted out, then mentally kicked himself for saying that.
“Don’t see how being the daughter of a Nazi-adjacent-” you started, but you had accidentally kneed Leon between his legs, making his eyes roll back. In a flash, you were on top of him, shoving him into the mud, fumbling at the stupid straps of your helmet, your lips crashing against his, his mouth opening for you like a flower as your tongue was shoved down his throat.
Suddenly the comms went off against his jeans. Leon fumbled, gasping for hair, his cock pressed against your stomach. Ingrid’s voice came out smoothly. “We need you back at H.Q. Ever heard of Glenn Arias?” Ingrid asked. Oh fuck, Leon thought as your hand wrapped around his cock.