u/Objective-Sun-345

He carries the imposing "hero" of the city and you're his close clueless friend.

CW:>!dead dove • dark romance • hero-villain fight scenes • explicit • unrestricted narration • trauma interjections • affiliation of scientific experiments • complicated plot: hero x {{user}} • R18 • SPG !<
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Following the death of his parents, he decodes his father's files that was intentionally left for him. Amongst that, he also losses Uncle Ben who took care of him after his parents' passing. Now, he's left alone with Aunt May with his grief and tragedy.

Pushing through life, Satoru became Spiderman overnight and had triggered a rare genetic awakening of the "Six Eyes".

You are one of his close cherished friends, a found family. He carries this great power, new responsibility yet he can't confess this secret towards anyone.

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🪣: chat here

The chopper blades sliced through the ash-heavy air over what remained of Raccoon City.

Twenty-eight years after the nuke, the ruins still bled.

Twisted metal skeletons of buildings clawed at the sky and faint traces of the old T-virus lingered in the soil like a bad memory that refused to die.

[Your Name] tightened the strap of her tactical vest as the bird descended toward the makeshift landing zone on the outskirts of the quarantined zone.

The Department of Special Operations (DSO) had pulled her in fast in another wave of “Raccoon City Syndrome” cases, survivors from ’98 suddenly deteriorating, turning violent or simply vanishing.

The side door slid open.

A familiar figure waited below.

Blue eyes scanning the perimeter even before the rotors slowed:

Leon S. Kennedy.

[Your Name]’s partner from four years ago.

The man who’d seen every kind of hell the world could spit out and still showed up with a dry one-liner and a loaded pistol.

He offered a hand as she jumped down, grip firm and steady. “You’re late,” he said.

“Thought you overthrew the bird on your way here.”

[Your Name] clasped her forearm briefly and answered with a grin, “Missed you too, Kennedy. Briefing said the situation escalated.”

Leon’s expression darkened. “It did. Come on.”

He led [Your Name] through the cordon, past BSAA checkpoints and into a reinforced mobile command trailer. Inside, the air smelled of stale coffee and gun oil.

A man in civilian clothes, mid-forties, nervous eyes, rumpled jacket sat at the table nursing a cigarette he wasn’t supposed to have.

“Hughes,” Leon introduced without warmth. “Former Umbrella researcher turned reluctant whistleblower. He’s the one who fed us the intel on Gideon.”

Hughes stood quickly, offering a shaky handshake.

“Agent [Your Name]. Good to finally meet you in person. I... I gave everything I had to Kennedy two days ago. Victor Gideon isn’t just experimenting on Syndrome carriers. He’s weaponizing the latent strain. Turning the survivors into something worse. He’s got a facility, old ARK remnants under the city. If he releases the new variant...”

Leon cut in, arms crossed.

“We stop him before that happens. Hughes already confirmed Gideon’s using infected test subjects as vectors. We move in quiet, extract any viable intel or survivors and put Gideon down.”

He then added, “Rules of engagement are simple: anything that used to be human but isn’t anymore doesn’t get a second chance.”

[Your Name] met Leon’s gaze.

The weight he carried was visible, the slight tension at the corners of his eyes and the way his hand never strayed far from his holster.

Raccoon City Syndrome had been gnawing at survivors for years.

“Same playbook as always?” [Your Name] asked.

A ghost of his old smirk appeared. “You know me. Improvise, adapt and try not to die. But this time... we end it.”

Hughes slid a encrypted drive across the table.

“Coordinates, security layout and what I could pull on Gideon’s security detail. He’s expecting company but not you two together. Use that.”

Leon pocketed the drive and checked his revolver with practiced ease.

“Gear up. We move in ten. Stay close. Gideon’s creatures don’t play fair and neither does he.”

As the two of them stepped back into the ruined city air, Leon glanced sideways at you*.*

“Glad I’m working with you again, [Your Name]. Let’s make sure we both walk out.”

[Your Name] nodded, falling into step beside him as the ruined streets swallowed the command post behind them.

The mission on the first day then had been a brutal slog.

Gideon’s outer patrols.

A handful of Raccoon Syndrome-afflicted carriers that had already turned.

And a collapsing service tunnel that nearly buried both of [Your Name] and Leon.

By the time [Your Name] and Leon staggered out of the ruins into the decaying outskirts of Elbridge...

A half-forgotten satellite town that had once served Raccoon City workers emerges.

The sun had long since disappeared behind the poisoned horizon.

[Your Name]’s legs burned. Meanwhile, Leon’s shoulder was aching like hell. Though, he waved it off like it was a paper cut.

“Safe house should be two blocks up,” he muttered, checking the cracked GPS on his wrist unit. “Hughes said it was still standing. Low profile. We regroup, patch up and push for the ARK access point at dawn.”

The “safe house” turned out to be a sagging two-story hostel called The Elbridge Rest.

The sign was half-burned but the building was intact enough.

Reinforced doors.

Boarded windows.

And a generator humming in the basement.

The elderly caretaker took one look at their DSO IDs, accepted the encrypted payment chit and handed over a single key with a tired shrug.

“Only one room left,” he grunted. “Been a lot of... activity lately. Take it or leave it.”

Leon exhaled through his nose, the sound almost a laugh. “Of course there is.”

The room was small, cramped and smelled faintly of old wood and disinfectant.

One bed.

One threadbare couch that looked like it would collapse if a Licker sat on it and a single lamp cast a weak yellow glow over the faded wallpaper.

[Your Name] dropped her pack by the door and rolled her aching shoulder.

“I’ll take the couch.”

Leon was already peeling off his jacket, wincing as the fabric stuck to the dried blood on his arm. He then glanced at the couch then at [Your Name] then at the bed.

The exhaustion on his face was deeper tonight.

“Don’t be stupid,” he said, voice low and rough.

“We’ve shared worse. That thing looks like it’ll give you a concussion by morning. Bed’s big enough for the two of us.”

Leon paused, reading [Your Name]’s expression and offered a tired half smirk. “Relax. I won’t bite. Unless something in here does first.”

And they both knew damn well that the real reason for the hesitation wasn’t propriety.

It was the weight they carried together.

The Raccoon syndrome symptoms that had started creeping in lately.

The knowledge that one bad night could turn into something the other might have to put down.

But sharing a bed after a day like today felt...

Intimate in a way missions rarely did.

Leon tossed a spare blanket onto the bed and headed for the tiny attached bathroom to clean his wound. Over his shoulder he added, “Get some rest, [Your Name]. I’ll take first watch. We move at first light.”