#cop leon

hello hello!! i'm so excitedddd for this one you guys! but i just want to put a little disclaimer, i am not in any way experienced with anything having to do with law enforcement, so i probably will get things wrong, but i don't really care because leon is the only cop i care about and he's fictional anyway yay 🩵

this is going to be a mini series, so hopefully no longer than 10 chapters, and it will be updated once every two weeks to allow me to tackle more projects alongside it 💙

“Dispatch to Unit 31, status?"

"31, code four."

"Copy."

A small sigh leaves Leon’s lips at hearing the radio comms. It’s been code four all around for the past hour, and he couldn't be more grateful for that. Swing shifts are the worst. With people coming out of work, traffic in the roads, and bars filling up, it's usually the busiest time for a patrolling officer.

Glancing at the clock, he reads the time: 10:34 p.m. Less than an hour and a half before the end of his shift. He can already picture himself passing out as soon as his head hits the pillow, drowsiness already settling in his senses, which he combats with much needed caffeine.

He stopped at a Wawa’s a few minutes earlier to pick up piping hot coffee and the last surviving Boston cream donut—fully aware of the irony of doing so in uniform.

The steaming liquid sloshes in its lidded container sitting in the cruiser’s cup holder with every turn of the vehicle. With a hand on the wheel, the blonde’s eyes are focused on the road, looking for somewhere he can stop to eat his little treat before wrapping up his shift.

A parking garage comes into view. Free on Sundays, empty, quiet, and in a decently safe area of D.C—it's exactly what he needs. 

Five minutes later and he’s sipping on his coffee quietly, taking bites of the sweet pastry that he chews slowly. It’s not exactly the best tasting food, but he wasn't expecting any better from a convenience store. If anything, the cheap flavor is comforting, nostalgic, and he enjoys the silence of the night with the familiar taste on his tongue.

Despite his seemingly relaxed appearance, Leon, having been a police officer for six years now, knows that being alone means to always be on guard. He makes sure to check his rearview mirror and surroundings every now and then, keeping his instincts on guard at all times.

It’s exhausting, and makes him appreciate all the more the moments he’s not in blue, but for now he finishes his food with as much relaxation as a man on duty can allow himself.

Once done, he wipes his sticky fingers with a napkin, then gathers the trash into a plastic bag before stepping out of his vehicle. Like routine, he throws a glance around him to survey his surroundings, before making his way to the nearby garbage bin.

Dusting his hands once he’s discarded the bag, he stretches his neck until it makes a cracking sound before exhaling deeply. He really can't wait to go home.

When he turns to head back to his car, his heart lurches as he gets quite literally jumpscared by the sudden appearance of a girl. She's standing by the cruiser, her eyes wide and her expression wild with a faint smile on her lips. Almost like she's at the zoo and she just saw her favorite animal for the first time. 

Leon clears his throat to recollect himself, eyeing her appearance to quickly make an assessment of her. Oversized clothes—a large hoodie and ripped jeans—dirty, old sneakers, chipped nail polish, and clearly unwashed hair. He can't tell if she’s purposely trying to look homeless or if she actually is. 

“Can I help you, ma’am?” he puts on his ‘work’ voice.

The young woman does not respond. Instead, she simply continues staring at him with that same sort of awe filled expression that he finds hard to decipher. He’s usually not easily intimidated, but put simply, this girl gives him the creeps.

“Ma’am?” he repeats, and she finally blinks, as if pulled out of a reverie.

“H-hi…” she murmurs with that odd smile still on her face. Then, as if realizing how uncanny she must look, she quickly schools her expression. “Hi, h-hello, mister—uh, Officer… I, um, need help.”

Taking in her stammered response, Leon’s frown deepens. “What kind of help?”

Her eyes dart around, as if searching for something, before she meets his gaze again. “My car broke down… and I don't have insurance to call.”

Clicking his tongue, he gives her a pointed look. “You do realize it's illegal to drive a vehicle without car insurance in D.C, right?” 

“Yes, s-sorry…”

He sighs, already dreading the headache of dealing with this when he could be on his way back to the precinct to clock out. “You don’t have anyone to come pick you up?”

The girl fiddles with her long sleeves as she shakes her head. “No… I’m new in town. Also my car usually just needs a push, nothing too bad. It’s just so damn old,” she chuckles, strained and too loud for her mediocre joke.

With a sharp exhale through his nose, the policeman finally relents. “Alright… Where is it?”

“Uh, fourth floor. I-I just came down here to see if anyone could help me…”

“Right, then. Lead the way,” he gestures towards the elevators.

As she walks ahead slowly, their footsteps echoing in the empty garage, he keeps a safe distance out of precaution. He still has a bad feeling about this, and it doesn't help that she keeps turning around to steal quick glances at him.

“What brought you here?” he asks, prodding for more information about the odd stranger.

“Oh, um, I work at this food place down the street,” she points vaguely in the eastern direction. “I did closing alone tonight.” Another nervous chuckle.

Once they reach the set of steel doors, he watches her hesitate for a split second before pushing the ‘up’ button. Now that he’s standing closer, he can see more clearly the red blood vessels in her eyes giving them a glassy appearance. Then, it all clicks. She's high.

Leon follows her inside the elevator, then presses the correct number while keeping a watchful eye on her. “Ma’am, are you under the influence of any drugs or alcohol?”

Her eyes widen at the sudden question, and she laughs, then looks panicked, then laughs again. “Just a couple of edibles! I swear!”

“And you are planning on driving your car while high?” he scoffs, placing his hands on his hips.

She tracks the movement with her eyes, visibly gulping, before focusing on his face again. “Uh, it's not a c-crime if I haven't done it yet, right?”

The deep sigh he makes is made of pure frustration. “Alright, I’m gonna need to see some I.D,” he makes a motion with his hand.

“No!” she immediately retorts, before coughing nervously. “I-I mean I don’t have it on me… It’s in my car.”

Just as she says that, the elevator dings as it comes to a stop, prompting the man to mutter a sarcastic ‘perfect’ under his breath. 

“After you,” he grumbles.

Her breath audibly hitches at the command, and she doesn't move for an entire two seconds where she just stares at him, before finally stepping out of the lift.

Leon is growing more and more suspicious of the girl, and he’s now starting to realize it may not have been very wise of him to follow her upstairs. With a hand on his radio, he looks around for any lurking threats. After all, this could be a scheme to get him jumped—you never know what to expect these days.

The floor is completely empty, however, with only a few sparse cars parked throughout. They pass car after car, and the young woman shows no sign of stopping just yet. She doesn't even reach in her pockets to pull out a key. 

He definitely has a bad feeling about this.

Once they nearly reach the far end, she slowly comes to a halt. When he also stops a few feet behind her, there is an eerie silence encompassing them that is only interrupted by the buzzing of a flickering light in the corner. She doesn't say anything, just stands there with her head tilted down and her hands trembling lightly.

“Ma’am?” he rasps out, a churning sensation in his stomach.

Finally, she slowly turns to face him, her breathing weirdly uneven, but it's her expression that makes him want to step back. She has that same wide eyed smile she had before, the corners of her mouth twitching and making her look even more uncanny.

Then, she drops to her knees. “CanIpleasesuckyourdick?”

Leon blinks, completely unmoving for a second, before he frowns in utter confusion. “What?”

“S-sorry, um…” she clears her throat and he almost sighs in relief thinking he must've heard her wrong, only for her to reiterate her unhinged demand slower. “Can I, uh… please s-suck you off?”

This time, it's his turn to let out a strained laugh, like he can't believe what in the ever loving fuck she just said. Clearly, she's a lot higher than she claimed, and it's certainly not just ‘a couple of edibles’.

He can see her pleading eyes, her weirdly shy expression, and if he was any other man he might be willing to take the offer just for the ego boost alone. How many guys can say they had a pretty stranger beg for their dick? But that's the thing, pretty strangers don't beg for dick. At least not unless they’re clinically insane.

When she stays kneeling, looking up at him with a hopeful expression as if waiting for him to actually consider her offer, his worry increases tenfold. This feels like the start of a true crime story. He looks around again, his head turning in every direction to catch whoever might come out from a shadowed corner.

“Is this some kind of joke?” he mutters with a locked jaw.

“No… I know it's weird, but I mean it.”

Officially done, he rests his hand on his holster with a stern face. “Alright, that's enough. Stand up.”

In response, she gives him puppy eyes, like a child who wasn't allowed candy. “B-but please! I can be quick if you don't have time!”

“Christ… Are you insane?” he scoffs, and the accusation seems to affect her as she retreats into herself, sitting back on her heels. “Stand up or you're getting arrested for harassing an officer on duty.”

With her head bowed and a small voice, she argues further. “But… I’ll make it so good, I promise…”

Leon feels his eye twitch in irritation. This is the weirdest thing that has ever happened to him, and he can't believe the sheer unhingedness of this woman.

“You know what? I’m not doing this shit tonight, I’m leaving,” he shakes his head, then begins to turn and walk away. “You stay put. I swear to God if you follow me—”

He’s cut off by the sound of shuffling behind him, and sure enough, she's already scrambling on his tail on her damn hands and knees. He feels like this has to be an elaborate prank or else he just met the craziest person ever.

“Please d-don’t leave! I just— I really need this,” she pleads as she continues to crawl closer. “I know you're a good cop, Leon, but damn it, it’s a blowjob! Just take it, it’ll be good. Please!”

The sound of his name brings him into a screeching halt, and suddenly it's no longer just about a crazed individual, but something potentially a lot worse.

“How the fuck do you know my name?” he snaps coldly, and sees her visibly shiver from his tone.

“Uh… Lucky guess?” she tries with an awkward smile.

Leon looms over her with a death glare, his hand back on his holster. “Do you think this is funny?”

“No…”

“Then answer my fucking question.”

He knows his name plate only displays ‘L. S. Kennedy’, so the fact she so casually dropped his first name when he cannot remember meeting her before makes his hair stand up.

With her head bowed like she's being told off by a teacher, she takes a moment to gather her thoughts before murmuring, “I guess you don't remember me but… One time, near Union Station, you were with another officer and I heard him call your name… I asked you for directions that day, but looks like you, um, forgot.”

Leon nearly chokes from her claim, and he would think he’s having a weird dream if not for the cool, humid breeze on his skin feeling all too real. 

“How is that— Who—” he pauses as he struggles to formulate a proper question. “Are you stalking me?!”

“What?! No!” she answers quickly with a fervent headshake. “No, no, look… I just remembered you, a-and saw you come out of your car just now and thought I would, you know, make an offer.”

“Is that what you call harrassment?” he scoffs loudly. “So you planned this shit, huh? You don't even have a car, do you?”

She stays quiet, and that confirms his accusation. This has reached new levels of weird if she truly remembered him from a one time encounter, though he’s not sure if he buys that.

“So what the hell is this? Some kind of fetish?”

“It’s not a fetish. Like I told you… it’s an offer.”

“Yeah, no, that's just called solicitation,” he tsks, his tone dripping with disappointment. “Do you go around giving out ‘offers’ to random cops?”

“No. I’ve never done this before,” she huffs, seemingly offended. “And I’m not asking for money so you can't arrest me.”

Leon feels his jaw clench in pure annoyance. This woman is unbelievable. “Well I sure as hell will if you don't stand up. How many times have I asked you already?”

To his great dismay, she still asks for confirmation as if her demand isn't batshit crazy. “So you’re really saying no?” she murmurs as she slowly stands up.

“Yeah, sorry, I’m not interested,” he clicks his tongue, relieved she's no longer on her knees.

After a moment of silence, he’s about to ask for her I.D again when she speaks quietly. “...I can deepthroat.”

That’s it. 

“Hands behind your head,” he grits out while reaching for his handcuffs.

Her eyes widen like the possibility of actually getting detained somehow hadn't crossed her mind. “Wait, wait, wait! Y-you can’t— I can't get arrested! Look, I’m sorry for what I said. Just f-forget I said anything, please.”

Leon does not care for her regretting once things became serious. This woman is a danger to public safety—including herself, because he is certain plenty of other men would have taken her oh-so-kind offer and then her body would end in a ditch. 

“Hands. Now.” He barks once he’s made his way to stand behind her. Without hesitation, he grabs her wrists that she had raised weakly one by one to restrain them. “You thought I was playing? This isn't some funny prank to pull on an officer.”

She’s tenser than a rock as he snaps the cuffs in place, and then she suddenly makes a sound. A sound Leon tries to ignore, but is certain is in fact a pleasurable moan. 

“Did you just…” he chokes on his own breath. 

He handcuffed her and she moaned. This is unprecedented levels of unhinged.

She doesn't respond, seemingly mortified, and when he begins hauling her back to the elevators she asks quietly, “am I under arrest?”

Clearly, the concept bothers her greatly if she looks so defeated. Good, Leon thinks to himself. She needs to learn a lesson, even if he’s still hesitant to fully arrest her. Why? He isn't sure. But he theorizes it's a mix of pity from the obviously tormented soul, and apprehension of having to deal with her any further.

Especially if she keeps making weirdly tempting offers.

“No. But you will be if you don't cooperate. I’m taking you downstairs for the breathalyzer.”

“I’m not drunk, Leon, I promise!” she gives him those damn puppy eyes again. Christ, why does he always get the lunatics?

“Quiet. And it's officer Kennedy to you.” He pushes the lift call button repeatedly, a sense of urgency filling him with every passing second.

“I’m not lying this time!” she protests again.

He audibly grunts in frustration as he pulls her inside the elevator. “Stop talking or I’m charging you for resisting arrest.”

That seems to do the trick, and she finally keeps quiet as they make their way to his cruiser. He can't help but notice the repeated glances she steals his way, and how the arm he’s holding is awkwardly stiff against his palm. 

Once near the car, he lets go of her to grab a BAC device from inside, then brings it to her mouth with a cold expression. “Blow.”

As soon as the order is out of his mouth, he cringes at the double entendre of the situation. But then, he watches her dart her gaze in sudden shyness as she wraps her lips around the tube, as if she wasn't making outrageous requests a minute ago. 

The numbers on the quadrant flicker as it calculates her alcohol intake, and he can't help but feel there's something oddly intimate about the moment. As soon as he’s able to get a reading, he steps back with a frown as he reads the results: sober. She wasn't drunk after all. Still doesn't change the fact she is most definitely too high to be walking around alone this late at night.

“I told you,” she grumbles under her breath, her arms shifting uncomfortably in the bounds.

Giving her a lingering look, Leon feels himself somewhat lower his guard. Yes, this still takes the cake for the most bizarre encounter he’s ever had, but outside of being oddly horny, she seems to be harmless. He just feels bad for her more than anything.

“What’s your name?” he suddenly asks, his voice softer now.

“Uh…”

Quirking an eyebrow, he observes her with interest. “Don't tell me you forgot your name.”

The girl looks around nervously before meeting his eyes with her bloodshot ones. “If you're not arresting me, can't you just let me go?”

He remains quiet for a moment, then finally clicks his tongue with a nod. He has no legal reason to continue detaining her, especially since he’s letting her behavior slide and not making an arrest. She just looks like someone who needs help more than a criminal.

Gesturing for her to spin around, he undoes her handcuffs when she complies, and this time, she seems to put extra effort into not making a sound. It would be funny if it wasn't infuriating.

“Alright… Off you go,” he mutters as he steps back. “Next time, don't take too many edibles if you can't handle them.”

“R-right,” she nods, and with a final wide eyed look his way, begins to walk away.

Leon watches her from his spot, a sense of worry settling inside him about the fate of this poor, deranged girl. He wouldn't be surprised if her face was on the paper the next day if some sick asshole finds her. Especially if she asks for sexual favors from random men.

He wonders what could drive someone like her to act like that. Drugs, sure, but there is more to it. No one acts like this unless they’re mentally unwell, and from the sight of her demeanor, she clearly isn't.

As he sighs deeply, debating if he should offer her a ride home but not sure if it's the right decision, she stops in her tracks and slowly turns to him with that hopeful expression she had earlier. 

Oh, God. What now?

“Hey, Le—I mean Officer… Do you think it could be possible if, um, since you don't want me to t-touch you… you could maybe, uh, just like, I don't know… spit in my mouth or something.”

Leon’s expression remains completely unmoved for a moment, as still as a statue as his brain short circuits with her incredulous demand. 

This is the weirdest fucking day of his life.

“Alright…” he exhales, and he sees the flicker of hope in her eyes before he continues. “You’re under arrest for disorderly conduct and public intoxication. I’m taking you in.”

Next chapter.

Leon had been on the force for exactly three weeks when he got the call.

Noise complaint. Possible underage drinking. Costumes involved.

“Costumes?” he repeated into the radio, glancing down at his own uniform like it might suddenly sprout sequins. Dispatch confirmed. “Fantastic. Another college party, loud enough to wake the dead - and possibly half the block.”

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The door swung open before he could knock.

Music thumped. Lights flashed. And the moment he stepped inside, a cheer went up.

“Yo, that’s commitment!” someone yelled.

Leon blinked. “Uh RPD. I’m here about a noise-”

“Dude, the cop outfit is insane,” another voice cut in. “Someone order a stripper?”

A red plastic cup was shoved into his hand.

“I can’t- no, listen-” Leon tried again, raising his voice over the music. “I need everyone to-”

“Chug! Chug!” someone chanted.

This was not how they’d covered it at the academy.

He cleared his throat, trying for authority. “This party is in violation of-”

A girl dressed as a vampire leaned in way too close. “Your badge is upside down,” she said, then wandered off laughing before he could check.

Leon stared after her, completely losing his train of thought.

And then you appeared.

Not in a rush, just slipping through the crowd like you belonged to the music instead of fighting it.

You looked him over slowly, eyes catching on every detail: the badge, the belt, the holster.

“Wow,” you said, voice low but somehow cutting through the noise anyway. “They really went all out this year.”

Leon exhaled. Finally, someone calm.

“Thank you,” he said quickly. “I’m actually here on duty, so if you could help me get people to-“

“You even sound like one,” you added, amused.

He paused. “I… am one.”

You tilted your head, stepping closer. Too close.

“Right,” you said, like you didn’t believe him at all.

Leon opened his mouth to insist, but the words tangled somewhere between your expression and the fact that you were now gently adjusting his collar like it was part of the act.

“You’re missing the whole point,” you murmured. “You show up looking like that, and you don’t even try to play along?”

“I’m not- this isn’t- ” Leon faltered, very aware of how warm your hand felt against his neck.

“Relax, officer,” you said, smiling. “You’re off duty tonight. Didn’t you hear?”

“I definitely didn’t hear that,” he muttered, but his voice had lost most of its edge.

You leaned in just enough that he could smell whatever you were wearing—something warm, a little dangerous.

“Then consider this your first unofficial lesson,” you said softly.

Leon hesitated. Every instinct told him to shut it down, clear the house, write citations.

Instead, he found himself asking, “Lesson?”

“Yeah,” you said, taking the untouched cup from his hand and setting it aside. “Step one: stop looking like you’re about to arrest the punch bowl.”

Despite himself, he huffed out a laugh.

“Step two?” he asked, before he could stop himself.

Your smile shifted, a little more deliberate.

“Step two,” you said, fingers brushing lightly against his wrist as you tugged him a fraction closer, “is learning when not to be the cop.”

Leon’s pulse jumped. “And when is that?”

You held his gaze for a beat too long.

“Right now,” you said.

For a moment, the music, the crowd, the whole chaotic house seemed to fade to a dull blur around you.

Leon swallowed.

“This is… definitely against protocol,” he managed.

“Probably,” you agreed.

Neither of you moved away.

Somewhere in the distance, someone whooped, the bass dropped again, and the party surged back into focus- but Leon didn’t step back toward the door.

Not yet.

Not when your hand was still resting lightly against his arm, like an invitation he hadn’t decided whether to refuse or accept.

“What do you say, officer? Take this upstairs?” You winked, breath hot with booze.

He nodded before his brain could tell him otherwise.

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Before he knew it your lips were on his, pushing him backwards up the stairs and into a door. You broke from the kiss to push the handle and then dragged him into the room.

It was clearly your bedroom, surrounded in posters and string lights hanging from the ceiling.

“Come on, officer.” You grinned sitting down on the bed and looking up at him. “I’ve been a bad girl.”

“Oh god-“ Leon gasped, his eyes moving down from your eyes

Leon’s breath caught as his gaze dropped, then snapped back up just as quickly, like he’d touched something he shouldn’t.

“You shouldn’t joke about that,” he said, voice rougher than he meant it to be.

But he didn’t move. Didn’t step back. Didn’t leave.

The room felt too small all of a sudden, lit only by the soft glow of string lights.

You watched him from the edge of the bed, head tilted, that same knowing smile playing on your lips like you already had him figured out.

“Then don’t treat it like a joke,” you replied, quieter now.

That did it. Something in his expression shifted.

“I’m not here for games,” Leon said, but there was a flicker of doubt in his eyes, betraying him.

You leaned back slightly, bracing your hands behind you, studying him like he was the one on trial.

“Then why are you still standing there?”

Silence stretched between you, tight as a wire.

“I really shouldn’t do this on duty.” He murmured and you laughed.

“Wow officer, you take roleplay seriously.”

“I’m not rolep-“ you cut him off by pulling towards you by the waist

“Enough talking” you reached your hand up to his face and pressed your finger to his lips. “I’m taking this off now.”

Your hands danced over his collar unbuttoning

Leon stilled under your touch, breath catching as your fingers brushed warm skin beneath the fabric. His hands hovered uncertainly at your sides, like he wasn’t sure whether to stop you or pull you closer.

“You’re trouble,” he muttered, but there was no bite to it.

“Then stop me,” you whispered.

He didn’t.

The last button slipped free, and you pushed the fabric back just enough to reveal the rise and fall of his chest. Your gaze lingered, slower now, more curious than teasing.

Leon exhaled shakily, one hand finally settling at your waist, tentative at first, grounding himself in the moment, in you.

“This is a bad idea,” he said again, quieter this time, like he was trying to convince himself.

“Then stop?” you murmured.

His answer wasn’t words.

His hand slid from your waist, lifting to brush along your jaw, tilting your face toward his. There was a pause, just a heartbeat, a chance to pull away - but he closed the distance instead.

The kiss was slower this time, less reckless, more certain. Like he’d made a choice and was done fighting it.

His other hand came up to steady you, drawing you closer as the world outside the room seemed to fall away entirely.

“Fuck~” he whispered as your hands went to his belt undoing it and letting it lie loose.

He stood at the end of the bed, shirt undone, belt undone, cock twitchy beneath the fabric of his blue trousers.

“Now now officer.” You teased. “Is that a weapon in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?”

He laughed, just a little and undid his zip.

“I’m very, happy to see you.” He said, almost confidently.

“Then show me” you but your lip as he pulled his boxers down enough to show his cock. Your eyes stuck to it, your hands roaming your thighs as you awaited what was about to happen.

“On the bed. Hands behind your back.” He said assertively- sort of like a real cop.

“Yes sir” you murmured, turning around and wiggling your ass in the air. He grunted his hands on your skirt, flipping it up to show your ass.

A small buzz interrupted the moment and a man’s voice came through the radio attached to Leon's shirt.

“Rookie you’ve not checked in, everything alright? Over.”

Leon stopped in his tracks.

His grip loosened, just slightly.

For a second, he didn’t answer. His eyes stayed on you, on the way you’d gone still beneath his hands, the tension in your shoulders, the quiet anticipation hanging in the air between you.

Duty and desire collided in his expression, neither willing to back down.

“…Yeah,” he said finally, voice rough as he reached for the radio. “All clear. Just… handling something. Over.”

A pause. Then a faint, skeptical reply: “Copy that. Don’t take too long.”

The line went dead.

Silence rushed back in, heavier than before.

Leon let out a slow breath, like he’d just crossed a line he couldn’t uncross. His hand lingered for a moment before he stepped back, dragging a hand through his hair, trying (and failing) to collect himself.

“This-” he started, then stopped, shaking his head under his breath.

But he didn’t leave.

Instead, his gaze found you again, darker now, like the interruption had only sharpened whatever this was.

“You’re making this very hard to walk away from,” he admitted quietly.

Your head was too full of lust to care and without thinking you looked back at him:

“Officer, fuck me please” you practically begged.

“How can I say no to that?” He laughed nervously. His hands toyed with your fishnets and, knowing full well he was too polite, you blurted out;

“Just rip them.”

“Y-yes ma’am” his fingers brushed your core and pulled, ripping the fishnets with a satisfying tear.

His fingers immediately went back to your panties, brushing up the wet line of your slit. “So wet ma’am, I’ve never arrested someone s-so beautiful before.”

He pulled them to the side and you gasped.

“Please officer~”

“We gotta be quick okay- we gotta-“ he trailed off, a loud moan leaving his throat as he pushed himself inside you.

His rhythm was slow at first, savouring every inch as he pushed into you. But he grew faster and sloppier as the seconds went on.

His moans were deliciously lewd as he lost himself in the moment.

“So good~” he grunted, his hips meeting your ass with every thrust “So close~”

“Fuck~” you moaned out, your face pressed into the mattress as he held your hands behind your back.

“I’m gonna cum~” he blurted out, his head dropping down as he kept the rhythm. “Please~ ugh”

Leon pulled out fast, his load hitting against your ass and back as he cried out. His grip tight on your wrist before dropping them to your sides.

You pushed yourself back up, looking around to see Leon - one hand in his hair the other supporting his spent cock as it dripped.

“Shit-“ he snapped his head up looking at you “I uh-“ he looked at the floor and found a T-shirt, shrugging and using it to wipe your back.

“Thanks” you muttered softly.

Another electronic buzz:

“Leon, do you need backup. Over” He jumped out of his skin, scrambling for the radio.

“Just coming sir!” He blurted “uh over!”

You laughed, flipping yourself onto your back and sitting up.

“I didn’t finish you off-“ he started.

“Maybe you can, another time.” You smiled, standing up and pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“R-really?” He stuttered, his cheeks flushed red as he buttoned himself back up.

“You know where to find me.” You winked.

“I- yeah I suppose so.” He went to walk toward the door, brushing himself off and making sure his uniform was intact. “I’m Leon, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you Leon- and don’t worry, I’ll tell them to be quiet for you.”

“T-thanks

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The door shut and an electric buzz knocked Leon from his daze.

“Did you deal with the situation? Over.”

He sighed, pressing the button on his radio.

cw: sexual tension

“Have you ever received a pat down before?” 

“Yes…”

“Good. So you know how this goes.”

With her hands once again cuffed behind her back after her short-lived freedom, the young woman stands still as Leon approaches to begin the frisking. For a moment, he debates whether this is a good idea considering… Well, everything. But this is protocol, and he wouldn't want an even nastier surprise in case she's carrying something dangerous.

With her body facing the cruiser, he comes to stand behind her with a sigh. “Alright, spread out,” he nudges her legs with his foot to make her widen her step. She obliges without a word. 

So far, so good.

“Do you have anything on your person that I need to know about before I conduct this search?”

She shakes her ‘no’ in response, and he’s tempted to make her speak it out loud, but in the end he lets it go. As long as she behaves and lets him get his job done.

“Okay, just stand still.”

With that, Leon’s hands come to rest at her head, pressing down on her scalp from her crown to her nape. She stiffens, but still says nothing, so he continues with pinching her collar with a pincer grasp to check for any hidden items.

Next are the shoulders, arms, and back, and with every touch separated only by the fabric of her hoodie, her breathing goes steadily ragged. He doesn't like admitting it to himself, but knowing she must be getting worked up from the clinical touch alone does things to him. 

Pushing away the unwanted thoughts, he sets aside the phone with the cracked and crumpled tissue he found in her pockets—no illegal possessions. Then, he crouches, before immediately regretting it when he finds himself at eye level with her pretty ass in her tight jeans. Since when does frisking get to him like this? 

Nonetheless, he forces his intentions to remain professional when his palms rest on her thigh, encircling the limb at the top, and gliding down until he reaches her calf. He repeats the motion on her other leg, before finally daring to touch her hips.

“I’ll check your back pockets,” he mutters, then sweeps his hands over her fleshy backside. That’s when she suddenly jerks with an uncontrollable whimper.

“S-sorry!” she immediately apologizes, and Leon has to hold back a laugh.

Truly, this situation gets more ridiculous by the second, and he’s too tired to be angry anymore. He stands when he finds her back pockets empty, resisting the urge to give her ass a squeeze like a creep, before asking her to turn and face him.

Except, as she does so, she can't bear to look him in the eye apparently. All bravado seems to have gone out the window the moment he proceeded with an actual arrest. Typical.

“Open your mouth,” he murmurs more huskily than intended.

She finally meets his gaze as she obeys, and he feels his heart stutter at the oddly erotic sight. He clears his throat, peering into her mouth with renewed focus. “Lift your tongue.” And she does.

Once he's verified she's not holding anything between her teeth, he nods and gestures for her to close her jaw. If he spent another second looking inside the wet cavity he might be tempted to take her up on that sweet proposal. 

Leon hones in his entire concentration to stop his mind from being a total pervert. Especially now that he must resume the pat down of the only two areas left: her chest, and her groin. Fantastic.

He starts with her torso, gliding his knuckles under her breasts in the professional motion he was taught to use. Then, he hears her audibly gulp when he presses intently on her sternum, his firm touch nestling right in the middle of her covered cleavage. Now he wishes she wasn't wearing the damn hoodie.

Focus, Kennedy.

With the awareness that he's getting ahead of himself, he makes the process of sweeping the front of her jeans so fast he misses most of it. But he can't risk doing something stupid, especially when he makes the mistake of gazing at her face and he finds her staring longingly at his lips, like she's hypnotized. 

If he wasn't the wiser, he might be tempted to confront her about it. Maybe grab her jaw to force her gaze into his eyes, then he could lean closer just to call her a creep. And while he's at it, maybe even take her up on her crazy offer of spitting in her mouth if she’s so into it anyway...

Leon sighs in exasperation as he steps back, but this time it's directed at himself rather than at her. Here he is getting horny over some homeless girl with a cop fetish like some depraved idiot, as if she's not a walking red flag. This is what happens when he doesn't get laid often enough.

“Uh… Are we done?” she asks quietly, and that's when he realizes he’s just been standing in silence for the past ten seconds.

Instead of answering her question, he opens the car door and ushers her inside with one hand on her upper arm and the other on her head, giving her a needless shove. 

“Get in,” he mutters coldly. “And I don't wanna hear a word out of you on the way. If you talk, I’m ordering you a psych eval. Are we clear?”

She nods as she sits on the hard plastic seat, and this time he can't resist being petty. He leans in, buckling her with his face a bit too close to hers than necessary. 

“Use your words,” he whispers in a low tone that makes a shiver visibly run down her spine.

“Y-yes… Yes, Officer.” 

She nearly trembles under his looming form, sending his ego flaring from the sheer effect he seemingly has on her. Finally satisfied with her answer, he makes a curt nod then closes the door with a loud thud that reverberates through the empty garage.

The car ride is quiet, the girl keeping her promise of not talking as Leon drives with shattered focus. He tries to concentrate on the road, but he can't help but feel her eyes on him in the rearview mirror, observing him intently. It's unnerving.

When they come to a stop at a red light on a quasi empty street, he finally cracks. “Will you stop staring at me?”

Her eyes widen as they meet his on the reflective surface, a look of embarrassment on her face as she tries to come up with an excuse.

“Sorry! I didn't— You’re just— Nevermind…” she ducks her face in shame.

“I’m just what?” he huffs, unwilling to let her slip.

She hesitates for a moment before murmuring under her breath. “You're just really handsome…”

For a second, Leon goes perfectly still, before he gasps out a sharp laugh, then shakes his head in exasperation. He doesn't want to admit the way his heart fluttered for a split moment at the compliment.

It’s not the first time he's been told he looks good, but her words still affect him more than they should.

“Yeah, well, enough ogling…” he mutters as nonchalantly as he can.

She goes quiet again, looking down at her lap as she uncomfortably shifts with her bound wrists. It’s not the most pleasant of car rides, that is certain. After a moment, she finally speaks again, her tone shy despite her earlier boldness.

“Um… Can I ask a question?”

He exhales, already bracing himself. “What?”

“You, um… You rejected my offer… Is it because I’m… ugly?”

The man frowns, eyeing her through the mirror with a tense jaw. “In case you didn't know, when you harass someone, your attractiveness doesn't matter—it’s still harassment.”

Her bottom lip juts out in the most serious case of a kicked puppy look he’s ever seen, and for a moment, he wonders if this is truly the same girl who crawled on her knees begging for his dick moments ago.

“Just say I’m ugly, I already know I am,” she grumbles.

He scoffs, poking the inside of his cheek with his tongue as he tries to keep his temper in check. 

“Are you fishing for compliments? Because you’re being awfully obvious.”

“I’m not!”

“Then quit talking nonsense! You know you're not ugly at all.”

That seems to shut her up, her eyes widening in surprise, as if the statement is news to her. When she's about to say something, however, he clicks his tongue. “No more talking. And no more staring either. Just… Behave, for God’s sake.”

The rest of the ride is silent until they reach the precinct and Leon drives into the sally port. Without a word, he turns off the engine and exits the vehicle, opening her door to get her out. So far, so good. 

An officer waits for them by the garage door, a greying moustache on his upper lip. His hands are resting on his hips with a grin on his face once the blonde comes to a stand before him, the latter’s grasp wrapped firmly on the girl’s upper arm.

“What do we got here, Kennedy? Who’s our new friend?” the older man drawls playfully.

Leon huffs out a small chuckle, shaking his head as the gate slides open with a loud, electric buzz. He pulls her along, throwing a muttered comment to the other man.

“Didn't know you were working tonight, Prescott.”

“And miss this? No way.”

The younger man doesn't acknowledge the trailing eyes of the officer on the girl’s figure. Prescott has always been quite a bit of an asshole, and he’d rather avoid him as he takes her in. He’s not sure why he cares, but he would prefer to keep the yoi g woman’s offenses undisclosed from that kind of man. Unfortunately, the older officer is right on their tail, showing no signs of disinterest.

Once thoroughly searched and all her belongings removed, from her cracked phone to her dirty shoes, the girl is accompanied by a female officer to change into a bright orange jumpsuit. She looks utterly unimpressed by the color by the time she’s brought into booking.

Leon, who was writing his report in the meantime, straightens up when she comes into view, something inside him tightening at the sight of her in prison clothes.

A policewoman sitting behind the counter, sighs as she types on her keyboard, her voice bored and monotone when she speaks. “Alright. Name and date of birth.” 

The young woman hesitates, her eyes flickering to her arresting officer for a second, before finally giving out her identity with slumped shoulders. He frowns at her demeanor, her name sounding as unfamiliar as any. But he files it in his mind with curiosity, before lingering on her young age—barely twenty-one and already causing herself trouble.

“Charges?” the other officer quirks an eyebrow at Leon.

“Disorderly conduct and interference with police duties.” He exhales through his nose, his jaw tight. With Prescott still standing nearby, the blonde feels the need to keep the details for the written report.

A basic medical and mental exam later, and the girl is ready to spend the night in a cell, accompanied by the same female officer who searched her, Jones.

Unsurprisingly, she was found with high levels of THC in her system, but Leon still finds her actions abnormal. Weed doesn't make you beg for a stranger’s dick, or at least he doesn't think so.

He pretends not to feel her eyes on him as she and the officer pass by, en route to be locked up. It’s only when her escort ushers her to walk faster that he finally looks up to watch her retreating back. 

He moves before even realizing, walking swiftly until he reaches the two women.

“Hey,” he calls out once he stands before them, giving his colleague a tight-lipped smile before turning his attention to the younger woman. He’s not even sure what he came to say, but as she looks up at him expectantly, he simply wings it. “Just be careful… Don’t do anything stupid, okay?”

Leon expects her to be disappointed with his lackluster preaching, but he’s surprised to see her smile—really smile—for the first time since they met.

“Thank you, officer,” she sighs dreamily.

Officer Jones rolls her eyes—it’s not the first time an inmate has fallen for Kennedy’s pretty blues, but there's no time to waste when there’s a schedule to follow.

“Alright, Juliet, why don't you walk a little faster? We have a job to do here.”

With a teasing look towards Leon, she drags the young woman ahead, the cell ward’s gate shutting behind them with an echoey slam.

The blonde’s head thuds on his pillow with a muffled thump. It's been a long shift—one he’s sure he won't forget for a long time. It all plays again in his mind, from the moment his eyes first landed on her uncanny expression, to seeing her escorted away in her orange jumpsuit. It makes his chest ache despite himself.

He doesn't know why he feels particularly empathetic over a woman that harassed him, but he can't help it. She was… cute. Even with her weird shenanigans. He still would rather not deal with her again, and internally prays that by the time he returns to the station she would have been bailed out. But he still spends longer than necessary thinking of her and her blown pupils. 

Fuck, that frisk session got him good.

He sighs as he turns to his side with a groan, hugging a pillow against his chest in contemplation. He has so many questions about the girl, but he forced himself earlier not to look through her file and head home instead. Because he knew the second he would open that can of worms, he would go on a spree of information diving to find out everything he can about her. No, he needed to go home to sleep—which is what he is trying and failing to do now.

He just keeps wondering what drives a young person to act that way? He could have been some creep who would take advantage of her, someone like Eric Prescott… The thought of the man makes him uneasy. He never truly caught him doing anything nefarious, but he doesn't trust him, and he would rather he stayed away from the girl.

There he goes worrying about her for no reason again. Maybe he’s more depraved than he thought if he cares this much after a single unhinged encounter. But then again, it's not everyday a pretty stranger crawls to suck you off. He can't help but imagine how good it would have been if he let her. She did say she can deepthroat.

He squeezes his eyes shut when he feels the urge to reach into his boxers, a half erection making its presence known. He can't jerk off to her—that would not only be incredibly perverse, but what would it say about him if he's stroking it over his detainee? He's not that kind of man… He refuses to be.

The smell of coffee permeates the air as Leon strides into the precinct for another evening shift. Today, he’s spending most of it at the station to complete tedious paperwork and reports. So, he stretches his neck as he walks to the open plan office to make his way to his desk, greeting colleagues on his way with curt nods.

He’s not letting his thoughts get the best of him today. Not after the tormented sleep he suffered through where he had to fight himself and his own standards of morality. He is not a bad cop.

As if the universe heard his thoughts, he suddenly bumps into none other than Prescott whose eyes light up at the sight of him.

“Kennedy! Looks like our shifts are synching up again, huh?”

“Looks like they are,” he responds with a tight smile.

The moustached man looks him over for a moment, gaze glinting when he steps closer. “You know I talked to Jones earlier and we shared a good laugh… The pretty thing you brought in last night? Apparently she kept asking after you when Jones took her for the meeting with the judge.”

Leon tenses, the mention of the girl immediately putting him on alert. She must still be held in if no one got her out yet, and that causes him begrudging concern. But he can't show that to the asshole before him, so he forces a casual laugh, turning to pick up files from his desk.

“Oh, yeah? She must've gotten bored.”

“Right, bored…” the other laughs, his eyes filled with suspicion under his mirth. “Hey, you don't know her, do you?”

The blonde’s head snaps in his direction before he can stop himself. “Why?” he asks defensively.

“Oh, nothing... Just curious. She likes ya—it had me wondering.”

“If every detainee that asked for me to let them go liked me, I’d have a whole fanclub by now.”

“Well, you are Mr. Popular, aren't ya? Ladies—and some gents—seem to like you.”

Leon chuckles dryly, discomfort barely concealed on his features. “Whatever you say, P. You’re the boss.”

The grin on Prescott’s face makes the young man want to punch him. He exhales through his nose in an effort to recollect himself before waving the folders he has in hand with a tight smile.

“Well, if you’ll excuse me—lots of reports for me today.”

With that, he walks towards the printer, tension weighing heavy on his shoulders. He already had to suffer through a night of blue balls, and now this asshole is getting up his business. He hopes to busy himself and leave the other’s bullshit behind.

Later that evening, Leon is assisting with the booking of an arrestee, still completing the never ending tasks at the station. He’s in the middle of walking up to a colleague when a familiar cuffed figure passes by, escorted by Jones once again.

He stutters in his steps, then forces himself to not trip like an idiot as he deliberately slows his walk. From the corner of his eye, he sees her being taken to the line of phones on the wall and wonders why she is only waiting for now to make a call, after an entire day in the cell.

She doesn't notice him, too engrossed with pressing the number pad, her handcuffed wrists jingling with every move. It makes him sigh in relief that she appears oblivious to his presence, but then his curiosity peaks…

He hands the officer he intended to speak to paperwork he needed, then excuses himself pretending that his phone is buzzing in his pocket. He knows it’s ridiculous, and he knows he’s behaving like a fool over a crazy woman who probably gets arrested every week, but he can't help it—he needs to listen in on her conversation.

Pretending to quietly talk on his cell while facing away from the girl in orange, he feels utterly stupid as he puts on the despicable act, but it works when he hears her speak.

“Hey, it’s me,” she begins once the person on the other end is patched through. “Oh, Aaron? Um, is Max around? …Okay, well, it's like six already and I’ve been waiting all day to call. Can you wake him up?” A moment passes where the girl rolls her eyes, her foot tapping impatiently on the floor tile.

Leon, in his corner, is turned slightly just to take a discreet look at her. She looks awfully annoyed about the conversation, and it makes him frown. Though, he can't help but trail his eyes down her figure, lingering briefly on her ass. Why does she look good in prison clothes? But most importantly, since when did he turn into such a fucking perv? He’s no better than Prescott at this point.

After a while of waiting, the oblivious young woman smiles as she responds, but it looks strained. “Max! Hi! …Yeah, yeah, I know I said that but I didn't mean it, okay? I was wrong, Maxy, I miss you…” Her voice takes an overly sweet tone, but her face contorts into a frustrated expression. “Look, I’m gonna make it up to you if you come pick me up. It'll be just how you like...”

The blonde’s eyebrows shoot up in cartoonish fashion, his blue eyes darting around as he listens more closely. Who the hell is this Max? She’s clearly buttering him up to come get her.

“I knew you miss me too! Okay, so, um, I don't know if Aaron told you where this call is being patched from, but, uh… I’m kind of in jail, and I kind of need you to bail me out… Fucking hell, Max, with all the times I helped you out this is the least you can do!” she grunts, frustration breaking through her act. She then inhales deeply to regain her composure. “Okay, okay, you’re right… I’m sorry, Maxy, I promise not to leave like that again, I was so stupid.”

As he listens, Leon thinks that whoever she’s talking to has to be a serious dumbass to think her apology is genuine. But the fact she's still calling him for help has his jaw twitching. It's obvious she's offering favors in return for him bailing her out. 

The girl’s face floods with sudden relief at hearing her desired response, and she puts on a teasing smile. “You won't regret it, baby, we’ll have so much fun, trust me… Just get here fast, okay?”

The conversation ends soon after, and Leon quickly moves away not to be spotted. He feels a bit bad about listening in, but it's not like her call isn't being recorded by the station anyways. Still, now he's left filled with curiosity—and frustration—about who this Max guy is and why the young woman seemed so reluctant to call him. He doesn't like this one bit.

Leon is zoned out as he absentmindedly stares at his desk’s wooden grain with his arms crossed. He’s been acting off the entire day, his thoughts whirring over that weird girl that seemingly took over his mind with her pretty eyes and crazy antics. He simply finds the whole situation so bizarre, and he hates how it fills him with both discomfort and begrudging interest.

He knows she said she remembers him from some previous encounter where she asked for road directions, but he can't for the life of him recall it. Especially considering the sheer number of people he deals with every day on his shifts. But, as much as he hates to admit it, the fact he allegedly left enough of a lasting impression on her that she remembered his name and then pursued him that parking garage boosts his ego. The entire encounter with her does, no matter how insane.

“Looks like your little fan is getting bailed out right now,” Prescott suddenly shows up, his signature shit-eating smirk plastered on his face. “Too bad, I was hoping she'd keep us company a bit longer.”

Leon does his best to hide his interest, faking a yawn of boredom as he stretches in his seat. “Oh, yeah? Good for her. I wish someone could bail me out of paperwork.”

The older man chuckles, shaking his head. “Shifts at the precinct are the worst. I’d rather be out there catching misbehaving little shits.”

The blonde internally scoffs. Only a weirdo would get excited about making arrests, but he’s used to colleagues saying unsavory things—it comes with his line of work. 

Growing restless from Prescott’s presence and already concocting a plan in mind, he stands with deliberate unhurriedness, then puts on his phoniest apologetic smile. “Nature's call. Be back in a minute, P.” 

He doesn't wait for the other’s answer as he strides away with a determined step. 

He wants to find out who this Max guy is, and he has a feeling he won't like him.

Next chapter.

guys he's such a loser he's down bad already lmaooo

also d.c doesn't have a bail system but we're making shit up gang so please suspend your disbelief with me mwah

cw: police corruption, masturbation

Leon already knows where he needs to be to take a sneak peek at what this Max fella looks like. Once the girl’s bail is paid, she will exit through the West door when her belongings are handed back to her, and the man will wait for her by the parking lot. All the officer has to do is discreetly stand between cars, pretending to be on a short break, and hopefully he can listen in without being caught.

Fifteen minutes later, Leon is doing exactly that as he leans against a tall SUV, barely peeking past it to see the door open with a loud buzz, and the young woman coming out. She's back in her oversized hoodie, her cracked screen phone in hand as she repeatedly taps it before grunting in frustration.

“Why the long face? I thought you’d be happy to get out of jail,” a man with a crew cut and skinny jeans comes into view. Like her, he’s also in a sweatshirt, and he has an ugly tattoo on his neck that peaks out from his collar. 

So that must be Max… Looks like a loser by Leon’s standards.

The girl sighs, shoving the device in her pocket with pursed lips and an annoyed glare. “My battery’s dead.”

“We’ll go home and charge it, no need to get all pissy about it. Come on, you won't even give me a hug after I saved your ass?” Max opens his arms wide with a smirk. 

For a reason he doesn't understand yet, Leon’s heart begins beating faster, waiting with a held breath to see the embrace he wishes he could stop out of sheer cringe. He doesn't know why. It simply makes him grate his teeth.

But then, he sees the young woman cross her arms with a scoff. “Yeah, no thanks.”

Good girl.

“What the hell? I just paid $500 to get you out!” the other man exclaims loudly before lowering his voice into a mocking whisper. “And you promised it would be worth my time.”

“Yeah, well, I lied.” She shrugs and begins walking away without a care, only for Max to snatch her arm in a tight grip.

Leon feels himself jerk in place, his body reacting protectively as he's about to intervene, but he doesn't need to when the young woman whips around with a scowl.

“We’re at a police station you fucking moron, I scream and they’ll jump your ass. The whole place is probably littered with cameras too.”

“You wouldn't dare—you have no place to stay. I know you're not going back to your sister’s either because she told you last time no more arrests.”

“What happens between me and my sister is non of your fucking business.” She wrenches her arm out of his grip, anger radiating off her. “And $500? That barely scratches the surface on all the money you took from me for your 'businesses.’ I meant it last time when I said I’m never getting back with you, but you were thinking with your dick when you came here because that's all you ever do. Well boohoo, asshole.”

Max looks furious, his fingers twitching like he’s about to reach for her again if not for the location he's found himself in. “Getting on your high horse when you were begging me to let you inside two months ago? You think you're the shit? How much do you wanna bet you’ll come crawling back to me in a week—and with your legs open… You’re so fucked in the head, no one wants you. Not even your own family.”

The girl’s expression falls for a split second, before it hardens again and she steps closer with a venomous hiss. “Go fuck yourself, Gibbons.”

With that, she turns on her heel, and walks away on stomping feet until she exits into the street without another glance. Leon’s heart is still pounding in his chest when he hears Max curse crudely.

“Yeah, yeah, go run to suck some dick for a joint, everyone knows that’s all you're worth!” he yells out behind her. When she ignores him, he huffs, kicking a loose pebble on the ground like a petulant child. “Crazy bitch.”

Leon feels a newfound anger bubbling inside him at the way the other insults the girl, and he decides to finally make his presence known once the young woman is gone. He walks out from behind the SUV, catching the tattooed man off guard, and he doesn't stop until he’s standing before him with tense shoulders and glacial eyes.

“Max Gibbons.”

The latter’s eyes widen for a moment, before a mean scowl settles on his face. “And how the hell do you know my name, Officer?”

“Comes up in the system when you pay someone’s bail. They asked for your ID, didn't they?”

“Okay, and why are you talking to me?” the man glares, his entire demeanor turning defensive. “I didn't do anything wrong.”

“I never said you did,” Leon retorts, crossing his arms in his blue uniform to make himself appear larger. “Although, your hands looked like they were itching when you were talking to that girl.” He gestures with his head towards the parking exit from where she disappeared.

The implication of his words are clear, and Max grows even more tense. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” He grits his teeth. But then, a look of realization dawns on his face. “Wait… I know you.”

“You know me?” The blond frowns, eyeing the pointed finger in his direction as the dark haired man reminisces.

“Yeah, fuck— It's really you,” he breathes out a sharp, mocking laugh. “Uh, what was it again? Kennedy, right? Liam, or Leo or... Leon! Officer Leon Kennedy. Yeah, that's it.” He snaps his fingers in satisfaction.

Not again. Leon has never met this douchebag before, and it's starting to become really weird that people he doesn't know seem to recognize him. Either he’s developing Alzheimer’s, or he’s secretly famous without his knowledge.

“First her and now you? How the hell do you know me?” 

Max grins wickedly, “Ah, looks like the crazy bitch did it, huh? Did she talk to you? She proposed yet?”

Leon nearly flinches at the insult, and even more so at the mention of a proposal. This is becoming weirder by the second. “What are you on about?”

“Ah, man, she must've lost her shit when she saw you!” The brunette claps his hands like he just heard the funniest of jokes. “But listen, you need to be careful, she's got more than a few screws loose. Especially when it comes to you.”

The policeman has officially had it, and he walks closer, his voice dropping to a low hiss. “Alright, buddy, enough of the cryptic shit. Tell me what you know, right now.”

Max raises his arms in surrender as he backs away, but his back bumps against the wall behind him. “Shit, dude, calm down. I’m not the one you should be worried about… Look, I’ve known her for a couple of years, and the entire time, all she ever does is talk about you.”

“What?” 

“She says you saved her something? I don't fucking know, I never pay too much attention to the crazy shit that comes out of her mouth. It’s got better uses, if you know what I mean.”

Leon knows it's only by divine miracle that he hasn't punched the dickwad yet. He's lucky the blond is eager for more information, especially since he does not recall saving her. His mind is spinning. 

“What else?” he grits his teeth.

“I mean, she has these pictures of you she keeps under her pillow, and she says you two will get married one day… You know, she would say all that while being my girlfriend, and then acted cuckoo when I got myself a side piece. Can you believe it?”

The officer feels his ears ring from hearing the extent of the girl’s seeming infatuation. This is a lot worse than inebriated sexual offers in a parking garage. “So… So she obsesses over me, has pictures of me, and no one thought to report it?”

“She's a lunatic, but she's not really dangerous,” Max shrugs in nonchalance. “I’m pretty sure everyone knows about her, uh, crush, but no one thinks she'll actually act on it. Every time the idea came up she would panic, saying she needed to ‘fix herself’ before meeting you. I don't even know what the fuck that means—there's nothing fixing a bitch with daddy and mommy issues. But at least it makes for a good fuck.” 

“For Christ’s sake can you not speak a single sentence without mentioning your dick?” Leon snaps, then forces himself to inhale deeply to keep his cool. “Where are her parents in all of this? I heard you say something about her family not wanting her.”

The grin that spreads on the brunette’s face is made of pure, shit-eating smugness. “Oh, you were listening in, huh? Well, I don't know, officer, why don't you conduct a little investigation? I can be your informant... You know, for the right price.” He rubs his index and thumb together.

That's it.

Leon has had enough, and he suddenly steps closer until his breath fans on Max’s face, nearly growling in annoyance. “Listen here, you little shit. You’re gonna keep your mouth shut about this, and you’re staying the fuck away from her. And if I hear you got close to her again? I’ll make sure you regret ever calling her a ‘good fuck.’”

The man is completely taken aback by the harsh words and Leon understands why. Not only is he acting menacingly in the middle of the precinct parking lot, but the way he's obviously coming to the defense of the girl he barely knows implies she's more important to him than he cares to admit. He can't help it, however, because the protective instinct he feels for her has increasingly flared from every insult Max has thrown her way.

“Are you threatening me?” the latter scoffs, although there is clear nervousness in his eyes he’s unable to conceal.

Leon doesn't back away. Instead, he tilts his head slowly, a ghost of a smirk pulling at his lips. 

“Wanna find out?”

Max remains silent apart from his uneven breathing, until he begrudgingly nods and pushes past the officer with a shove. The blond knows a man like that does not want to be in trouble with the law, and there isn't much he can do right next to a police station. He watches him walk away and get into his rundown car in hurried steps, and as he peels off into the road with screeching tires, Leon is hit with a realization. He just threatened a civilian. He just used his title for nefarious reasons. He just became a dirty cop.

That night, the policeman does not stall any longer. He needs to learn about the girl and get to the bottom of this, or else he won't sleep in peace again.

Obsession. Pictures. Some forgotten memory about saving her. It all makes his head spin and his anxiety soar. That douchebag did say she wasn't dangerous, but how can he be sure? If she approached him after supposedly stalking him from afar for a long time, what stops her from trying again?

Leon feels conflicted as he slides the door chain in place at his apartment. On one hand, there's a fear creeping inside him at the notion of being silently observed without his knowledge. But on the other, the odd protectiveness he feels for the young woman is still present, preoccupying his mind.

He doesn't dwell on his paradoxical emotions when he settles on his couch, his laptop on his lap. He sent himself earlier a copy of the girl’s records—something entirely illegal—without looking too much into them. But now that he’s alone, he plans on going through them thoroughly. He just hopes no one ever finds out about his new unethical streak.

As soon as the document opens, he’s met with a series of crimes—ten in total—committed over the last eight years. Petty infractions, ranging from evading bus fares to underage drinking. It seems she has led a troubled past, although he can indeed confirm none of her arrests were violent. The thought brings him relief, but then he reads added text at the bottom, next to her fingerprints.

‘Documented history of major depressive disorder with multiple psychiatric hospitalizations, including prior involuntary psychiatric holds for suicidal ideation. History of inconsistent treatment compliance.’

Leon feels tightening forming in his chest. He was right to assume she had mental health difficulties, but to read about it with his own eyes still worries him. He can only imagine what being repeatedly hospitalized at psychiatric institutions does to a young person. No wonder that shithead called her crazy… But no, Leon hates that—no one should be calling her that. Well, no one except him, at least. 

He exhales through his nose as he scrolls the records. He quickly learns she changed addresses from Boston to D.C. in 2022—she lied about being new in town. For some reason, however, the thought makes him huff out a chuckle rather than grow mad. 

“Bostonian, huh?” he mutters to no one but himself. 

His family is originally from there, although they moved when he was too young to remember. He still visits occasionally to meet grandparents and cousins, but it's been a while with his demanding job. He begins to wonder if that is where they met and he doesn't remember.

Then, his eyes land on something that makes him intensely frown.

‘Collected by Child Protective Services on June 30th, 2019 after reported abuse inflicted by biological mother. Minor was then admitted into foster care for 3 years until reaching adulthood.’

Well that explains Max’s evil comment about her family. Leon knows she truly has no one if she had to rely on that asshole to pay her bail. He can't believe a girl like her would ever give that kind of guy a chance. She deserves better after going through so much.

The time ticking on his wrist makes him realize he has spent way too long reading her records over and over again, and he finally decides to turn off his computer and set it aside. He rubs his tired eyes, his hands dragging on his face before he slumps on the backrest of the couch, gazing up at the popcorn ceiling.

Questions continue to swirl in his mind no matter how much information he has learned. It’s like every new thing he learns about her only makes him more curious. He still wants to understand why she is fixated on him specifically, if the tattooed man’s words are true. But they must be. Why would he make up such an unnecessary lie? No, it makes sense. Her wild eyes when she saw him, the fact she knew his name, the way she kneeled, crawled, begged, it’s obvious she wants him bad. 

And God, does the thought do things to him.

He lets out a low grunt when he feels a wave of heat swirl inside him. Fuck. He can't seriously be getting hard again at the thought of the woman he arrested. But Leon knows—he might be many things, but he’s not a liar, and he refuses to not admit to himself she affects him, even now that she's long gone from his sight.

“For fuck’s sake,” he whispers to himself, defeated, as he lowers the waistband of his pants and boxers at once. 

The second his fingers wrap around his erection, he groans, closing his eyes with scrunched eyebrows as he recalls her pleas in the echoey parking garage. He begins to wonder if rejecting her offer was the right thing to do. He can only imagine what her pretty lips would have looked like wrapped around him. Or how the wet heat of her mouth would have felt along his veins. Plus, he’s certain she would have delivered on her promises to deepthroat like a good girl.

“Ngh… Fuck—” he whines to no one in his silent, one-bedroom apartment. But maybe there is someone. Maybe she is listening through the door, or watching through the window—damn it, that wouldn't work. He lives on the third floor.

Leon grunts when his mind doesn't cooperate with his unhinged thoughts, so he does something he already knows he will regret later. With a fist still pumping his leaking cock, he reaches with the other to open his laptop back up. His fingers shake as he scrolls through the document still showing on the screen, until he reaches the top where the girl’s mugshot sits under the heading.

There. Now he can let his imagination run wild while looking her in the eye. She looks so cute too. Holding the placard with her pretty name, the anxiousness obvious in her eyes, the matting apparent in her unwashed hair… Everything about the look of her from when he arrested her makes him moan, his hand moving faster and faster along his veiny length until he bursts. It might be his fastest one yet.

“Yeah—ngh—take it,” he grunts at the face on the screen when the first spurt of his cum splatters across the surface. “Good girl, fucking take it—”

Semen continues to stain his fingers and the pixelated image until he squeezes out the last drop with a shutter, his cock slowly softening in his grasp. Only then does he realize he just came on his laptop like a porn addicted teenager, and he scrambles for tissues to clean up the sticky mess. 

He sighs in relief when he finds that none has seeped into the device’s crevices. That would be one hell of an incident to explain at the repair shop. What lie would he even come up with? It's embarrassing no matter how he thinks of it. Not only that, but it's also so unbelievably wrong.

Truly, this might be the most unethical thing he’s ever done. Actually, no. Threatening Max Gibbons was worse, but he’ll be damned if he didn't love every second of it. In fact, if he could, he would go back and make his threats a bit more explicit. Just to see the fear in the fucker’s eyes.

Leon sure hopes his warnings will take effect and that the man will leave the girl alone. Although, he knows that kind of pest doesn't give up, especially if he believes she cheated him out of those $500. The thought makes the blond anxious, hoping that the young woman, wherever she might be, is staying safe. He just wishes he could check on her to be sure.

Well, now that he has her address, hypothetically speaking, he could do just that… Not that he should. Although, as he stares at the crumpled tissues laying on his lap, he already knows. He would.

Next chapter coming soon.

not feeling my best about this chapter, with both the dialogue and the picture edit, but hey i tried 💀