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xxdreamersdesirexx · 2 months

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Crash Into Me

Moira has finally made it as a rookie BSAA agent, and this was supposed to be a simple assignment. But nothing is ever simple when it comes to Leon Scott Kennedy. She hadn't met him before-- not directly-- but she comes face to face with the famous federal agent in an unexpected encounter that continues to escalate, in more ways than one.

AO3 Link

Rating: Mature (will be explicit) Status: In-progress

Tags: Hook-Up, Drunk Sex, Smoking, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Behavior, hook up turns serious, Rough Sex, Obsessive Behavior, toxic and trashy behavior, mission fic

*note: this was originally posted as x reader fic but I decided I liked it better in third person! 🙇 Thank you for understanding!

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The first time Moira lay her eyes on Leon Scott Kennedy it was in the kitchenette of a BSAA safehouse in Sacramento California in 2013.

He was not supposed to be there.

He was draped over a kitchen chair, feet up with his boots on the table, and his leather jacket thrown carelessly over the back of the other chair. He had a mostly empty glass in one hand, and a cigarette in the other. There was a half empty bottle of Jack Daniels on the table in front of him.

It was not supposed to be there either.

Moira, however, was very much supposed to be there, much to her own annoyance. The mission, such as it was, was simply to check on the security of various safehouses in cities around the country, and report back to Chris if they needed re-equipping, or repair.

It was busy work. Or, it was supposed to be busy work. She hadn't expected any complications, and she was sure that Chris hadn't either, or he would have assigned someone else. This 'mission' was just supposed to give her something to do now that she'd officially completed her BSAA training.

Technically she should have been a field agent already. She pretty sure someone pulled some strings to keep her out of danger and the idea rankled at the back of her mind as she stood there, watching Leon fucking Kennedy stare into space.

Yeah, somehow this was all her dad's fault.

"You aren't supposed to be here," Moira told him. It was her way of announcing her presence.

"Chris let me in." He didn't look up at her , but he grabbed the bottle on the table.

"Well that's a fucking lie. Chris sent me to check that the place was empty." She put her hand on her hip where her gun hung. It was nice, now, for it to feel like a reassurance instead of a terror. "You're lucky I recognize you, agent Kennedy."

"My lucky day," he drawled. He held up the bottle toward her. "Don't think we've met before– pour you a drink? You are old enough to drink, right, princess?"

"Hey fuck you, of course I'm old enough!" Moira glared hotly, self-conscious about her babyface and reputation as 'Barry's kid' in the presence of the older, and more famous agent. She swaggered deliberately over to the table, pulled out the other chair– the one with Leon's jacket on it– and sat down.

"Hey, hey, no need to get testy about it. I don't want Chris on my ass for boozing up an underage agent, that's all."

He smiled smoothly at her, and poured more whiskey into the now-empty glass. He passed it across the table to her. And here I thought he might get me my own, she thought. But she picked it up anyway, and took a sip, well aware that over age or not she should not be drinking on the job.

"Yeah? But you don't mind Chris on your ass for fucking around in his safe houses?"

Leon shrugged, putting his arms behind his head and grinning at her. She could smell the whiskey on his breath from across the table mingling with the smell of cigarette smoke, and his leather jacket, and whatever cheap, musky cologne it is that he was wearing.

"What Chris doesn't know can't hurt me, right?"

"And you think you can, what, buy me off with a drink?" she demanded. She knocked back another long swallow of the liquor and felt it burn all the way down her throat. "It's not even a good drink. Chris is totally going to hear about this."

"Tch. Just my luck somebody comes to check on the place the one time I come to crash." He uncrossed, and recrossed his boots on the table.

"Don't you work for the government?" She put the glass down on the table, and leaned across toward Leon, scrutinizing him. He has a cocky, devil may care attitude, but underneath it she could tell there's something he's troubled about. What though, was impossible to know. But she'd heard stories about him. From Chris, and from Claire.

"Sure. And?"

"So don't they have their own safehouses for you to use?"

"Sure. And they're full of bugs and cameras and shit," Leon shrugged. "Maybe I just wanted to escape the panopticon for a little while."

"Fuck," Moire hissed, thinking about it. "They really have you pinned down like a bug under a microscope, huh, Kennedy?"

Moir watched his smile sour, and he licked his teeth in irritation.

"Wish you wouldn't put it that way," he said. He grabbed the glass from where Moirea put it, and drained it in front of her.

"Hey!"

"What, you weren't drinking it. If you want more, there's more." He grinned now, and took his feet off the table, leaning in toward her instead.

"I shouldn't be drinking on the job– and I'm pretty sure you shouldn't be either. Or smoking in here."

He took a long pull of his cigarette, and she watched his handsome lips wrap around the tip of it almost seductively.

"Smoking in safehouses is tradition, promise," he insisted. He pointed at her. "There's more in my pocket if you wanna light up with me."

"Are you still trying to buy me off?" Moira crossed her arms.

"Maybe," he agreed. "But I'm starting to get the sense that you're not a cheap date. What did you say you were here for, again?"

Her patience was already starting to thin as the man refused to take anything seriously.

"To check it over for Chris. Make sure the locks are in good condition, and there's still guns and ammo, and all that." She waved a hand and went to pat down the jacket, looking for Leon's cigarettes. The first thing that she found was, however, a condom. Her lips twisted in a half-disgusted, half unsurprised sneer.

Leon watched her pull it out, and grinned all the wider.

"Other pocket, princess. But you can give that over here."

She made a face, and slid it toward him, patting down the jacket once again until she found his cigarettes. The box was more than half empty but she pulled one out anyway.

"Okay, where's the lighter, then?" she demanded. He crooked two fingers toward her, beckoning her across the table.

She leaned in, cigarette in hand.

He produced a lighter– an old metal flip style one– and flicked it open, lighting her cigarette for her. She put it in her mouth, and took a long puff. At least they weren't stale.

"Thanks," she murmured as the smoke curled up and around her head, joining the cloud that Leon had been producing.

"No prob." She watched him lean on the table again, sucking on the dwindling end of the cigarette. "If you wanna just go, I can lock up here and check everything."

"What? No! I'm not going to leave it to you."

"You don't trust me?" He put his free hand to his heart, over the black t-shirt that covered his muscular frame. She couldn't help noticing how good he looked, even as he was heading straight for forty.

"I don't know," she admitted. "But I sure as hell don't want to risk my agent status over it. If you're not going to leave, I'll just have to wait here until you do, and lock up then."

And probably tell Chris he needed to change the locks, she didn't tell him.

"Guess we're stuck together then," Leon purred. He grabbed a hold of the bottle of whiskey again and took a sip right from it.

"And all you're going to do is drink and smoke, I'm guessing?" Moire said, leaning on her hand.

"That was the plan," Leon admitted. "But now that you're here I've got some other ideas."

The way he looked at her when he said it sent a flush of heat through her face– and further downward. If wasn't suggesting what she thought he was suggesting then he really needed to learn to phrase things better.

But she'd heard a lot of things from Claire.

She moved to get up from the chair.

"I should go."

He stood too, and she felt a shiver go through her body.

"Hope you're not planning to drive after that whiskey."

"That's… none of your business," she insisted. She had driven. Her car was parked outside.

He shook his head.

"C'mon, kid, where's the harm?" He held the whiskey up again. "We can finish this off on the couch over there. More comfortable than the kitchen table, right?"

Moire moistened her lips thoughtfully.

The idea was, admittedly, very tempting. Leon Kennedy was famous, amazing at what he does, and honestly, kind of exactly her type. Especially now that she could see that he absolutely had the disaster of a personality people whispered about, to go along with that pretty face.

A government agent hiding from fed tracking, and skipping off to smoke and get drunk in a BSAA safehouse. And now he wanted to screw around with her.

Chris definitely didn't send her on this mission to screw around with guys from other agencies. Or any guys. Or Leon Kennedy. Or to get drunk.

Not to mention the fact that her father would be pissed if he ever found out.

The idea was thrilling, and dark.

Her resolve failed.

She took a puff of the cigarette that had been dangling between her fingers.

"Alright, what the hell. The couch does sound more comfortable."

"I knew you'd see it my way."

Leon stepped close, and scooped his heavy arm around her shoulders. Moira felt a shiver go through her at the warmth of his body and the smell of cheap cologne and whiskey, and cigarettes.

She let him pull her out of the kitchenette, and over to the couch.

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