Bundle Of Joy

Bundle of Joy

Part 1/2 of a secret-pregnancy drabble between Sanemi and the Reader, who is the Lunar Hashira (not the same one from TWAHM). Protective/soft Sanemi, but the other Hashira don't know he's the daddy.

CW: suggestive/smut, blood, pregnancy, difficult labor. Sanemi is a dick to everyone but is so soft for Y/N.

You can find Part Two here and the prequel one-shot here

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Pregnant, Kocho had said, you’re pregnant.

She had sat there for a moment, too stunned to say anything right away. Her eyes flitted between the gentle look on the Insect Hashira’s face and the results of the blood work clutched in her hand.

Pregnant.

In retrospect, Y/N knew she shouldn’t have been surprised. Sanemi was a passionate lover, and she loved being the object of his passion, in both the bedroom and in those quiet, stolen moments shared at one another’s estates, away from prying eyes.

And sometimes, there were less-than-quiet moments where a certain someone had begged Sanemi to stay inside and give it to me, baby, please!

Okay, Y/N conceded, maybe those moments occurred more than sometimes (far more), and Sanemi had only been too happy to oblige her.

And so Y/N was pregnant.

“Well, that’s a surprise!” Y/N said with a soft chuckle, absent mindedly placing a hand over her flat stomach.

Kocho watched Y/N for a moment. “Y/N,” Y/N was surprised to hear Kocho refer to her by her first name, even more so when Kocho moved to place a hand over hers. “you are more than free to keep the child that comes from this pregnancy, or…” Kocho furrowed her eyebrows, struggling to phrase the information delicately, “we have things here that would terminate the pregnancy early. It would be painless.” She promised.

Y/N blinked in surprise. The thought hadn’t even crossed her mind, but the thought of not letting the the child in her belly grow… no, she couldn’t do that.

“Thank you, Shinobu, truly,” Y/N squeezed her hand lightly. “But I wish to see this through.”

Kocho nodded, withdrawing her hand to reach for a stack of papers stacked besides her on the small exam table. “Well in that case, I will need to inform the Master right away. You can still perform some missions for now, but nothing too strenuous. The first few months of pregnancy are quite tricky.” Shinobu began scribbling down a message, but paused mid-word.

“Y/N… is the father… involved?”

Ah. That problem.

It wasn’t so much a problem for her and Sanemi as it was for everyone else. When they had finally given in to the simmering desire between them while training more than a year earlier, neither of them had intended for it to continue. But one time had not been nearly enough, and suddenly, Y/N had found herself craving his voice, his touch, and his lips, and he, hers. It had not taken long for them to realize how ridiculously, stupidly in love they were.

But they had both agreed to not tell the other Hashira — or anyone — about their affair. The decision mostly stemmed from practicality; the Master, while he did not oppose relationships amongst the Hashira, did have a practice of not pairing them up together once their relationship was made public. The Master believed, ultimately, it was too risky, as both would seek to protect the other, potentially to the detriment of civilians and other slayers alike.

It was a rational justification, but it did little to stifle the electricity which cackled between the two Pillars. It held little weight against the stony will of Sanemi Shinuzagawa.

Sanemi had been the first one to crack during an intense sparring session. He had caught Y/N off guard after she had dodged an attack, using the wind to pitch himself into her blind spot and sweep her shapely legs from beneath her.

But Y/N had never been one to go down without a fight, so she had wound the Wind Pillar’s haori around her fist mid-fall, and successfully brought him right down with her.

On top of her.

Sanemi had fallen with a grunt, his eyes nearly bulging out of his head as he realized Y/N had still managed to out-maneuver him, even after he had bested her. His full weight upon her, he had stared at her with a bewildered look in his eyes, breathing hard out of his nose as he struggled to collect himself.

His eyes flitted down once to Y/N’s fist, still wrapped in his haori, before they had lifted back up to her mouth, settling on that stupid, shit-eating smirk she had.

There had been no thoughts in Sanemi’s head as he crashed his mouth against hers in a flurry of lips and teeth.

Y/N had been frozen for half a second before she snapped back into herself and hauled him closer, meeting each demanding swipe of his tongue stroke for stroke.

Within minutes both of of the Pillars’ clothing had been reduced to shreds, and Sanemi’s head had found a home between Y/N’s legs. It had taken embarrassingly little effort on his part to bring her over the edge not once, but twice.

And when he finally flipped her on all fours and rammed his proud length into her desperate core, Y/N had come apart again, half-sobbing his surname as pleasure mixed with pain from overstimulation.

“You know my fuckin’ name. Use it.” He had snarled in between the ruthless snapping of his hips against her.

That night, Shinazugawa had made sure Y/N could only say one word:

Sanemi. Sanemi. Sanemi.

And when it was finally over, and the two had collapsed next to each other on the dirt ground of his training ring, spent and satisfied, Sanemi had told the sweaty Lunar Pillar that she was to report to his Mansion for training sessions forthwith.

Nightly training sessions.

Because one taste had ignited an inferno of desire between the two of them that could not be snuffed out. It could only be tamed when Y/N’s fingers buried themselves in his hair as his own tight grip on her hips and thighs left marks on her skin, his hips setting a relentless and savage pace as he rutted into her, wanton and needy. A fire that could only be soothed when Sanemi sent her hurtling over the edge of her pleasure and found himself free-falling after her, spilling himself inside her warmth until she was filled with nothing but him.

It had not been long before the emotional passion followed their more carnal desires. Y/N had known she was in deep when she had confessed to him her deepest fears of not living past the age of her elder brother and falling to demons the same way he had. She knew he felt the same way when, in the middle of the night, having been startled awake from some unseen terrors in his mind, he stopped leaving the futon they shared to sit out on the engawa stare up at the moon, instead seeking the comfort of her embrace, burying his nose into her hair as he willed his heartbeat to slow.

And so, for more than a year, the two Hashira had kept up the charade of being disinterested co-workers in public, concealing their endless passion, adoration, and concern for one another that they held in private. It appeared that none of the other Pillars were any the wiser.

The only difficulty now would be in how to tell him the news.

She would tell him, of course, the moment she returned to his estate in the dead of night, when she knew the other Hashira would be sleeping or out on patrol, far away from the grounds of Sanemi’s manor. Y/N would tell him, and then they would decide how to move forward, together.

Sanemi, who was so strong, so capable, was also so, so protective. He knew that Y/N was more than capable of handling herself on missions, but too much personal tragedy had scarred him and he found himself unable to leave her completely alone. Even if she had been assigned to complete what was technically a solo mission, Sanemi was always within a few miles to rush to her aid, should she need it. And Y/N was the same way with him. A true team, who could and would figure out how to deal with any obstacle.

But until then…

Y/N smiled, attempting to reassure Shinobu. “I’ll take care of it. Thank you, Shinobu, truly.”

Shinobu pursed her lips, debating whether to push her friend further on the matter. It wasn’t her place to pry, true, but she couldn’t help but worry.

While Shinobu knew Y/N could handle herself— very well — she also knew how it was to be a woman in society. Men were relentless in their pursuit of forcing women to do things against their will; their destructive creativity knew no bounds.

But Shinobu also knew that pushing any woman in such a situation could make her clam up, could make her resist help — or even treatment. So, Shinobu resolved to keep quiet for now, but to keep a close eye on Y/N throughout her pregnancy.

Had she known at the time of the Insect Pillar’s concerns, Y/N would have fallen off of Shinobu’s examination table in a fit of hysterics. The idea that Sanemi, Mr. Made-Madea-Piss-Himself-for-Harassing-a-Young-Slayer, would ever do anything she hadn’t wanted him to do was laughable — as if he didn’t have her begging and pleading for him to do more to her every night.

But Y/N didn’t know, and so she left the Butterfly Mansion without another word. Shinobu sent off her crow to the Master with the Lunar Pillar’s news, pulling Aoi aside to instruct her to monitor the pregnant woman throughout the upcoming months for anything amiss — bruises, unexplained injuries, general skittishness — and to report it immediately to her.

Shinobu may not have known the circumstances of Y/N’s pregnancy, but she did know she would not let harm come to her or her growing child.

———————

Sanemi had wept like a baby when Y/N told him that night.

The man who looked as though he were stone hewn by the wind itself fell to his knees and cried like Y/N had never seen before. He pressed his forehead against the flat expanse of her stomach, raining soft kisses across her abdomen as he held his love close.

“Thank you, Y/N,” he whispered, between the pressing of his lips against her skin while she ran her fingers through his windswept hair, “Thank you for this gift.”

After Sanemi wiped his eyes, he made sure to spend the rest of the night showing Y/N exactly how grateful he was, though with a newfound gentleness. Sanemi typically took her roughly in a way that had Y/N’s eyes rolling back into her head, begging desperately for more. That night, however, he had treated her with such softness and love that it nearly shattered her heart. He had spent the entirety of the night holding her tightly against him, her name falling like a prayer from his lips while he gently rocked into her, whispering how beautiful she was and would look as she grew his child.

The next morning was not as beautiful.

“You’re retiring.” He said sternly as he poured her tea first, then his.

“No, I’m not,” Y/N retorted evenly, “Kocho said I could take low-risk missions until my next appointment with her, and that she would reassess her recommendation then.”

Sanemi stopped pouring his tea, setting the pot down a touch too hard. “Y/N. The first few months of pregnancy are when the mother is the most at risk for losing the child. I will not have you putting yourself in situations where that is a very real possibility.” He reached for her hand, closed in a fist on the table. “I…” he struggled to find his words. “I watched my mother… lose a few pregnancies at the hands of my father,” he spat the last word, but when he looked up at her, his eyes were tender; pleading. “I do not want to see you suffer through the pain that she did.”

Y/N softened at that revelation. She had known about Sanemi’s painful childhood, but the news about his mother’s lost pregnancies was new.

But this was different. She was a Hashira, not a housewife.

“This is… our thing, right now, isn’t it?” Y/N asked lightly, holding her steaming cup of jasmine tea between her hands, relishing in its comforting warmth. Sanemi said nothing but nodded, as he waited for her to continue.

“I’m not ready to share us with the world just yet."

Sanemi’s lips tightened, and his eyes fell to the floor. “Are you…unhappy with this news? He asked quietly. “Do you… feel ashamed… of…” His voice trailed off, but Y/N heard what he was asking all the same.

Ashamed of me?

Y/N’s head snapped up, and within a flash she was on her knees before him, clasping his large hand between her smaller ones. Sanemi kept his eyes resolutely on the floor rather than meet her piercing gaze, and Y/N tightened her grip.

“I need you to look at me when I tell you this,” she tugged lightly on his hand. Slowly, his eyes lifted from the floor and rested on her face, and Y/N’s heart clenched at the softness she saw reflected in his lilac gaze.

“I love you.” Y/N said simply, a small smile tugging on the corner of her pretty mouth. “I love you and I love our child. I thank the stars every day for you.” Sanemi’s breath caught in his chest at her words, and his hand returned her squeeze.

“But as you said, the first few months of pregnancy are difficult. I don’t want this news out before we’re ready to share it, especially in case of,-“ Y/N shut her eyes briefly, trying to shake away the encroaching panic she felt at the idea of losing the child growing in her womb. “In case something happens.” She managed.

“But if I retire now, there will be questions that I’m not ready to answer.” She looked up at him through her eyelashes, feeling slightly guilty about the show she was about to put on. “But I need you to trust Shinobu’s medical opinion on this. To trust me.” Y/N pleaded, bringing his callused hand to her lips, brushing soft kisses over his scarred knuckles. “I need you to trust that I know my limits.”

Sanemi Shinazugawa would never admit it, but he was a sucker for Y/N’s pretty face. A bat of her eyelashes and a nuzzle of her face into his hand brought him to his knees in an instant.

“No dangerous missions. Minor demons only. Cleanup. That’s it.” Sanemi proposed, his voice gruff.

Y/N knew, of course, that Sanemi would still find a way to shadow her whenever she would be sent on a mission close enough to his location, and to be honest, she couldn’t blame him. After all, it was his child she carried. But he was willing to compromise — to try — for her.

So Y/N smiled. “Deal.”

———————————-

Pregnancy had generally been uneventful.

Shinobu had insisted at the start of Y/N’s second trimester that she abstain from future slaying missions (much to her chagrin and Sanemi’s joy), but she encouraged Y/N to continue training under the supervision of the girls at the Butterfly Mansion in order to maintain her abilities.

Of course, once missions were off the table, Y/N knew she had to come clean to the other Hashira.

Almost clean.

She had told them the essentials — she was with child and she was keeping it. Y/N and Sanemi had already agreed not to share that he was the child’s father, again out of concern that once the child had been delivered, the two would never again be permitted to share missions together.

To the other Pillars’ credit, no one pushed her for paternity details. Y/N suspected that Shinobu had shared her hypothesis with them, that the father at best was uninvolved, at worst, might attempt to do harm to her if he knew.

Sanemi said nothing in his own defense, and even talked Y/N down from screaming at the lot of them on his behalf. He informed her that as a result of Shinobu, the other Hashira had formed a little pact to protect both Y/N and her (their) unborn child at all costs.

Sanemi found great relief in this, given that he was still being sent on missions. The promise among the other Pillars meant someone was watching over Y/N at all times, should she ever need assistance. And, because he had also agreed to partake in this pact, Sanemi was guaranteed alone time with Y/N at her estate, without the added pressure of sneaking around the other Pillars. Thus, he had been content to sit back and keep the knowledge that she carried his child close to his chest.

And Sanemi had been so attentive to Y/N throughout the months of her pregnancy. He constantly worried about her comfort and sought to make pregnancy as easy as possible. He awoke at all hours of the night to fix something that would satisfy her insane cravings. He would arrive home from missions and kiss her so sweetly, Y/N thought her heart would burst, before pressing his ear against the growing swell of her belly to listen to his child’s small heartbeat and lavish Y/N with kisses and soft praises. In the later months of her pregnancy, he would be sure to rotate Y/N’s sleeping form throughout the night to ensure she wouldn’t wake up in pain or discomfort.

And throughout it all, he maintained his passionate physical love for her, though more gently so as not to risk hurting Y/N or their child. But he worshipped her body with such fervor that it often reduced Y/N to tears.

When Sanemi was away, the other Hashira took turns keeping Y/N company, and each Pillar took on a special role for her. Uzui and his wives showered her with new clothes, fitted to accommodate her growing belly, and the wives lauded her with compliments. Mitsuri had become her meal-time buddy, the two of them nearly eating their way through the entire pantry stock of both their mansions in a single evening.

And so, pregnancy itself, had been easy.

Labor, when it arrived, was an entirely different matter.

Labor hurt.

Y/N had known something was wrong the moment her water had burst, having barely registered the wetness that slipped down her legs due to the agony that followed, leaving Y/N feeling as though she was being ripped open from the inside.

Y/N’s ears rang with a scream she had not realized was her own until she felt her throat burn. Her knees buckled, and she would have hit the ground had Uzui and Rengoku not materialized out of thin air, having noticed her from across the courtyard outside of her estate. The pair stood on either side, working to catch her before her knees could bite into the rocks below.

“We need to get her to Kocho, right away,” Uzui said to Rengoku. “I can run ahead and let the Butterfly Mansion know we’re coming. Can you get her there?” The Sound Hashira asked Rengoku, who nodded.

“Come, Y/L/N, I’ll take care of you,” Rengoku said warmly, lifting her up into his arms before taking off at a break-neck speed. Y/N clutched the front of his robes, hissing as another wave of excruciating pain washed through her.

“Sorry- ah— Rengoku, I might tear your uniform.” Y/N said through gritted teeth, sweat beginning to bead on her forehead.

Regoku’s deep laugh rumbled from his chest. “No worries, Y/L/N! I have plenty of uniforms. He glanced down at his friend, a comforting smile tugging on his lips, “You do what you need to do to help manage the pain.” He added kindly.

Y/N held onto the Flame Pillar’s robes for dear life, as she tried to keep herself from crying out, head falling against her friend’s chest. Above them, a raven circled once, twice, before heading east, its wings beating frantically.

The Butterfly Mansion had just come into sight when the unmistakable scent of iron hit Y/N’s nose. She tried to sit up in Rengoku’s arms to look over the large swell of her stomach, panic beginning to spread through her chest. Before she could confirm the source of the smell, Y/N collapsed back into Rengoku’s arms.

“Is-is that-?” Y/N trembled, her voice unusually high.

Rengoku’s nostrils flared slightly as he too, took notice of the scent. He only had to tilt his head slightly to the side to see below Y/N’s pregnant belly, his expression grim.

“Kyojuro,” Y/N whimpered, her grip on the front of his uniform slackening.

Rengoku turned his gaze back to Y/N’s, his expression soft and comforting as a kind smile chased away whatever shadow had been there.

“You are doing so well, Y/L/N! Truly! You will deliver this child in no time.” He said warmly, the hand holding her against him squeezing reassuringly.

Y/N may have been in blinding pain, but she did not fail to notice how the Flame Pillar clutched her tighter to him, his pace quickening as he sped towards the Butterfly Mansion.

Rengoku had all but leapt the last length of their journey, swiftly landing at the entrance to Kocho’s residence. The Insect Pillar was already waiting outside for them, alongside Uzui and a small team of Butterfly Mansion girls who were prepared to open doors and clear hallways for them.

“Come with me,” Shinobu ordered the moment Rengoku’s feet touched the ground, her eyes scanning over Y/N’s ashen face. Shinobu’s gaze snagged at the bloodstain spreading across the lower middle of the light cotton kimono Y/N wore.

Wordlessly, the small group of Hashira swept through the halls of the Butterfly House, escorted by Shinobu’s staff. The Insect Pillar drew up short outside of a small room in the back of the main hallway, urgently motioning Rengoku through the doorway.

“Uzui, grab Y/N’s legs. Rengoku, move your arms to support under her ribs,” Shinobu ordered the two men as she dunked her hands in a bucket of cold, soapy water, quickly scrubbing at her skin. “You both need to work together to lower her onto the birthing bed.” Shinobu pointedly looked to the small, white futon that lay in the middle of the wooden floor, its blankets already pulled back in anticipation of the pregnant woman now panting in Rengoku’s arms.

The pain in her lower belly was unbearable, and Y/N could not stop herself from crying out as she felt the two male Pillars gently readjust her so they could lower her as Shinobu ordered. Hot tears clung to her eyelashes as she gasped out, breathing becoming difficult through the haze of the pain.

Shinobu, having finished cleaning her hands, moved to kneel at Y/N’s feet. The Insect Pillar adjusted the futon’s cotton blanket to cover Y/N from the waist-down before gently spreading her legs and propping them up on either side of her.

“Y/N,” Shinobu said firmly, rolling up the bottom of the futon blanket to Y/N’s knees so she could examine her friend. “Y/N, you need to get your breathing under control. Your distress is affecting your body’s ability to heal, and it will harm the child.”

Y/N whimpered, a tear rolling down her cheek. Eyes closing, Y/N took a shuddering breath, willing her heart to slow its wild thumping in her chest and her body to relax. She managed for all of two breaths before another wave of pain rocked through her, causing her to cry out.

“Dammit,” Shinobu swore, as a fresh wave of blood spilled from between Y/N’s legs, staining her trembling thighs crimson. Both Uzui and Rengoku stood back behind Y/N’s head, their eyes wide as the smell of blood hit them.

Shinobu wracked her brain, trying to think of something, anything, that would help her friend calm down enough to get her breathing under control, to get her body to stop fighting her labor.

“Y/N, does the father know? Does he know the child is coming?” Shinobu blurted, as she tried to wipe away the blood that was rapidly pooling beneath Y/N’s center.

It had taken a moment for Shinobu’s words to fully register in Y/N’s mind. Her heart stuttered as she remembered that Sanemi was on a mission, at least half a day’s journey from the Butterfly Mansion.

Y/N’s eyes filled with fresh tears not from the endless pain, but from the realization that Sanemi might not make it here in time, might not make it before she…

“He’s t-too far.” Y/N half-sobbed, back bowing off the futon as her body seized with the strain of labor, her eyes squeezing shut as she tried to breathe through the contraction.

Uzui stepped forward from his spot against the back wall. “Nothing is too far for me, Y/N” he said gently, “tell me where he is, and I can get him here in a flash.”

Shinobu nodded, patting Y/N’s knee comfortingly. “Where is he, Y/N? Does he live in a village nearby?”

Y/N shook her head furiously, her mouth opening to respond, but only a choked sob came out.

Shinobu pressed. “Y/N, you must tell Uzui his name, or else he won’t be able to bring him back.” Shinobu motioned for one of the Butterfly Mansion’s young girls to bring over a damp towel to dab at Y/N’s burning forehead.

“Who is the child’s father, Y/N?” Shinobu repeated.

“It’s — fuck,” she hissed, her stomach feeling as if it were about to split open. “S-SANEMI.” She called out, body curling off the futon before collapsing against it once more, feeling exhaustion settling in over her bones, threatening to take over her consciousness.

The room was silent — dead silent — for a moment. Shinobu looked up to the two Male Pillars, her jaw slackened and her eyes wide, her shock mirroring that of both her comrades.

It had taken each Pillar another moment to re-correct themselves. Shinobu locked eyes with Aoi, a similar stunned look on her face, and silently ordered her to take up her position at Y/N’s feet. Once Aoi had knelt, Shinobu rose, and the other two Hashira swiftly exited the room, the former pulling the door to the birthing room behind her shut.

“No fucking way Shinazugawa is the father,” Uzui had hissed the moment the birthing room door had latched, his magenta eyes wild. “I can’t believe someone like Y/N would willingly have a child with that snarky little bitch.”

“You are not suggesting that Shinazugawa may have forced himself on Y/N, are you Tengen?” Rengoku asked quietly.

Uzui shook his head, scoffing slightly. “No. But I do think it's weird that she kept it a secret until the last possible second,” Uzui ran a hand through his hair, anxiously. “And he never said a damn word about it either. Maybe something happened that shouldn’t have. Maybe he feels ashamed.”

Rengoku eyed Shinobu, whose mouth had been pulled into a deep frown, her eyes fixed on the wall behind the Sound Pillar in deep thought. “Kocho? What should we do?”

Shinobu also did not believe Shinazugawa would ever force himself upon a woman, but she could not deny the unease she felt at the revelation that Y/N had concealed the identity of the child’s father. “Go get Shinazugawa, Rengoku.” She said softly, “Uzui, you stay here. Shinazugawa is fast enough on his own. I want you here to guard the door.”

Rengoku looked quizzically at his tiny friend, but she said nothing more and so he hid the pair farewell and took off into the night.

“Guard?” Uzui asked, puzzled.

Shinobu pinched the bridge of her nose, eyes closing as a dull ache bloomed through her skull. “Unless and until Y/N asks for him, I want him kept out. I don’t imagine he would be a very calming presence.” Shinobu grimaced. “Frankly, I don’t have the patience to handle him right now. I need to keep her calm.”

Uzui nodded, moving only to send a crow for the Water Hashira to come assist. He leaned casually against the frame of the door once Shinobu had closed it back behind her, shaking his head lightly. Really, Y/N? He chastised, internally, Shinazugawa?

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Keep an eye out for Part 2 if you want to see Sanemi be both feral and the softest boy.

Special Day

pairing: mafia!leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: this year your husband wants to give you a special present for your birthday

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, oral (fem receiving), fingering, daddy kink, breeding kink

word count: 5.2k

a/n: birthday fic for someone i am so happy to know and call my friend, @explorevenus. i love her so so much, she's one of the most fun and kindest people i have ever known. she's so totally cool and you all should wish her a very happy birthday.

For my pretty little doll on her special day. I’ll see you tonight. I love you.

That’s the message scrawled onto the scrap of paper that’s attached to the hanger on the closet door. On the hanger, dangled one of the prettiest dresses you’d ever seen in your life. Your favorite color, flowy and shimmering. Of the hundreds of things he’d asked you to wear over the course of your relationship, this had to be in the top three.

It almost made up for the fact that he was going to be on the job for nearly the entire day. You weren’t even confident he’d make it home in time for the dinner reservations you had, but if you had to be alone, at least you would look good doing it.

If anything, you tried not to let his absence bother you too much because it could be worse. You make a point to yourself to remember that today wasn’t like years ago when you would’ve spent the whole day at work just to come home to an empty house. So far you've spent it out, getting your nails done, lunch at one of your favorite places, some light shopping. And it was all on his dime. This was the one day a year where he truly gave you no limits, no allowance, no teasing about your debit card being worn out. Your birthday always was about letting you indulge in anything you wanted as much as your heart desired. You reminded yourself of that when you felt the familiar pain of longing tighten up your chest.

It wasn’t like the feeling was a foreign one. He’d been at work on every birthday you’d had since the two of you got together. He’d treat you to the shopping spree combined with sending you a lavish arrangement of flowers, chocolates, stuffed animals, or whatever you had been wanting that year. Then he’d come to you the next day, or once you started living together, in the middle of the night. Always climbing into bed or coming up behind you with a hushed “‘m sorry, babydoll” and some gentle kisses to your head. And you’d never complain because the next day before you even had a chance to get annoyed, an expensive new bracelet would be on your wrist, and he’d deliver his apologies between your legs with his tongue, fingers, or cock. Your choice.

For the week leading up to your birthday this year, you had just been silently hoping it would be different. Considering he had been spending more time with you lately, and less time in sketchy meetings, it didn’t seem unreasonable. The higher he climbed in the dark world that he worked in, the closer you came to living the glamorous life he’d promised you from the beginning. His higher position scored the two of you the penthouse you currently sat in. It got you vacations to exotic places and clothes you previously only would’ve been able to afford in your wildest fantasies.

The sun had just begun to set, casting a warm orange-pink haze over your room. You figured you should put on the outfit he’d chosen for you. Lifting the dress up, you realize there’s something else attached to the hanger. Obscured from view at first glance is a delicate lingerie set, lacy pink bra and panties with rosebuds embroidered across them in rows. A smile rises on your lips as you slip off the clothing you had on and unclip the dainty articles from the hanger. Your fingertips smooth over the lace while visions of Leon’s hands dancing across your chest, squeezing your breasts and pinching your nipples, flash through your mind.

You slide the thin straps onto your arms and reach behind to clasp it into place. Then you pull the panties up, looking in the mirror at how they fit over your hips. The dress comes after these. You put it on and are left blown away by his choice for you. It looked good. Showed you off, highlighted your assets in the most flattering way.

As you admire your reflection, the main doors to the apartment open and close. Keys rattle as they’re dropped on the side table. He enters the bedroom and you hear a hum of adoration rumble from his chest.

“There’s the birthday girl,” he says softly as he makes his way to you.

Your eyes capture his gaze with a fond glance. He’d actually made it back when he said he would. Maybe things were looking up. You turn your back to him, revealing the parted fabric that left your back and the hem of your panties exposed.

“Zip me up?” you request.

Without a word, he pulls you close by your waist. You knew he loved doing this. Picking what you wore and watching your body slip into it, filling out his fantasies. His fingers tug the zipper upward and secure the dress together. He presses a tender kiss to your neck and inhales a deep breath of his favorite scent in the whole world, your perfume. His arms wrap around you as his palms rub down your body, over your belly and to your hips. He leaves a few more smooches on your throat as he directs your stare back to the mirror.

“That dress looks gorgeous on you. My perfect little doll,” he murmurs.

“Thank you,” you respond, catching his eyes in the reflective glass ahead of you. You scan the picture in front of you. His large frame engulfing yours, damn near lovesick expression on his face, hands and arms as possessive as they could be in such a basic stance.

“No, thank you,” he says, “You been having a nice day? Being a good girl? Staying safe?”

You sink back against his chest more as his low voice seeps out against your skin. “Mhm,” you answer with a slight nod.

“Yeah? You ready to have some more fun tonight?” he whispers, lips brushing your earlobe.

You nod, sweet and docile. God, it was like you melted in his presence. Could never hold onto anything with him around. It all went out the window in order to get his praise and feel the warmth of his affection on you.

“That’s my baby,” he coos with one more wet kiss on your cheek. He backs up as if he’s about to let you go, but as you turn around, he grabs your jaw. The pads of his fingertips gently dig into the flesh of your cheeks. In that loving and condescending tone that sent heat rushing through your body, he asks, “Who’s my pretty girl?”

It was such a simple thing. You didn’t know why it worked, but it always did. A big smile spreads across your face, and your eyes flit away with timid modesty.

“Me,” you confirm, tone soft but sure.

“That’s right,” he says simply and pulls you into an actual kiss.

After that, you’re almost giddy, high off the small gesture. It made your blood run hot and your head swim with a dizzy feeling of love. You all but prance to the rack against the wall that holds your shoes. Slipping on some matching heels, you face him once more and do a little motion to show off the completed look.

He chuckles at your twirl and opens his arms. You immediately go to him and find your place in his grasp. Kissing the top of your head, he mutters “What’d I do to get the sweetest girl in the world all to myself, hm?”

You shrug, and that’s all he needs before the two of you are ready to go. He stuffs his wallet in his pocket and walks towards the elevator with you tucked to his side. His fingers coast down your jaw and stroke your hair. Your eyes stay locked on him from the doors shutting to the little ding letting you know the trip is over.

The two of you float outside to the luxury car Leon rode around in now. Not even drove because he had been given a driver recently. All the two of you had to do was simply slip into the backseat.

He holds you close, nearly on his lap for the duration of the ride. One hand massages the back of your neck, keeping your head against his shoulder. The other delves beneath the skirt of your dress only to knead your plush thighs and feel your skin between his fingers. All the attention keeps your head spinning and your body craving his love.

It’s only around twenty minutes before the car pulls to a stop in front of the restaurant. You’re greeted by the familiar twinkling lights and neon letters of one of your favorite places. You beam at him and take his hand. He watches your pleasant reaction, so pleased he could make you happy with something so simple.

Getting in is quick and painless since he had called ahead of time, dead set on making this as special for you as possible. You’re seated at a booth in the back. It’s not completely private, but well secluded from the other patrons filling seats.

He slides in first, grinning as he pats the cushioning next to him. You follow, and immediately, he pulls you close. Your thighs are squished against each other beneath the table. His lips are caressing your neck as you skim the menu causing you to squirm and laugh softly.

“You get anything you want, pretty baby. Tonight’s all about my precious girl,” he whispers.

You nod and nuzzle into the affection a bit, brushing your nose with his. After deciding what you want, he orders your meal and drink. The two of you talk, and from this alone, it seems to be shaping up into the perfect night. You talk about everything and anything, catching up with him like you hadn’t in a while. You see the Leon you love, your Leon. The guy who comes home late with dark eyes and a flat voice is nowhere to be found, and you couldn’t be more pleased. He stays close the entire time, seemingly not able to help how touchy he was with you.

Eventually, your orders arrive, and things continue to look up. Your smile won’t leave your face as you eat and drink. Laughs fly between the two of you like neither of you had ever seen something bad in your lives. It’s only hours later, towards the end of dinner when you can see him simmering down a bit. His expression grows more serious. Different from usual though. It’s not stern. It’s more… vulnerable. He pulls you flush against him yet again and squeezes his arms around you softly.

“I’m happy you’re having a good time, sweetheart. You know I love seeing that pretty smile. And you should know, I’ve wanted your birthday to turn out this perfect every year. But now I can actually provide that,” he says, continuing to grow more genuine.

You nod, not totally sure where he’s going here but eager to find out.

“Usually, I’d have something big for you to open at the end of your day,” he starts. He almost looks nervous at this point, and it’s concerning you, “This year, I don’t have anything like that because I thought we might do something different for your main gift.”

You look up at him and shift your body to face him a little more. He had your attention now. You try to mentally run through different possibilities for a different kind of big present. Vacation? No, you’d done that before. Moving? That also seemed unlikely. Maybe it was related to his work? You honestly had no clue.

“What is it?” you ask.

“I think it’s time we start trying for a baby,” he says, his eyes going soft and his voice dropping to be more hushed.

Your heart jolts inside your chest. You almost don’t believe you heard him right. He must have said something else. That or he was just playing the most cruel joke in the entire world.

“But you said you didn’t want any?” you say skeptically.

“I know I did. But… I was wrong,” he says with a slight smile.

Leon had told you on each rare occasion that the topic of kids came up that he did not want any under any circumstances. This life was too dangerous, he wouldn’t have time for them, he wanted you all to himself. All were reasons you’d heard over the years. You’d honestly just shoved your small hopes for a family away because he seemed certain of his position on the topic. You’d come to terms that it would never happen. It was him or the white picket fence fantasy, and you’d chosen him with no real hesitation.

“And you just changed your mind out of the blue?” you ask.

He shakes his head with a chuckle. He kisses your pulse point as his fingers start tracing small circles on your arm. “No, no. I’ve been thinking about this for a while,” he whispers.

Your breath hitches at the sensation of his mouth on your skin again. You tilt your head back and shut your eyes, letting him work. You were already buzzed from the drinks you had, and this wasn’t making it easier to think through your line of questioning.

“I’ve been having these dreams, y’know,” he breathes as if he senses your uncertainty, “Once every couple days, I’m seeing you pregnant. You’re looking fucking gorgeous, belly swollen and bright smile on your face. Then I wake up. And after a few times, I realized I don’t want that to only be a dream anymore.”

He continues trailing his mouth along your skin, leaving small love bites scattered throughout the sheen remnants of saliva. Your head is swirling with the mix of his actions and words, and what it means. He wanted you pregnant. It didn’t sound real to you even with his brief explanation.

“You want to change the entire direction of our lives because you had a few dreams?” you ask.

He laughs softly into the crook of your neck. “I’d been thinking about it anyway. I’m not getting any younger, baby. I guess I’ve softened in my old age cause what I want more than anything is to see my precious little doll holding our baby,” he says with a mix of teasing and seriousness in his voice.

It makes you smile and exhale with amusement. You turn your face in his direction and catch his lips in a real kiss. When he pulls away, his breath is coming out in heavier puffs. His eyes, blown out with love, are locked in a stare with you. His hand slips down to your midriff, palm flattening over your tummy.

“It wasn’t so hard to realize, babydoll. I’d be fucking insane to not want to see you carrying my baby. You’ll be the prettiest little mama,” he whispers.

His voice had become huskier, his thumb moving back and forth on your bottom lip. You were completely enraptured with him right now. Your head was growing fuzzier by the second, and the desire for him to fuck you full of cum was only getting stronger.

“You can’t even understand how much I’ll love watching that belly grow. How it’ll start sticking out of every shirt you have till we have to buy you a whole set of new ones,” he murmurs against your skin, “And don’t even get me started on how these are gonna fill out.” His hand moves to your breasts, gripping the plump flesh under his palm .

Now your breath was picking up a bit too. You shift in your seat in an attempt to alleviate the building tension in your center. His kisses become more aggressive and simple touches morph into rougher grabs.

“I’m not gonna be able to keep my hands off you, babydoll. Gonna have to fuck you like we’re still trying even when you’re in the last few months,” he grunts.

The softest whimper escapes you, but he hears it. You feel his smirk against your skin. He lightly nips at your throat and pulls back, letting you see his smug expression in its entirety.

“You like that idea, yeah?” he coos quietly, “So much attention for you, baby. Constantly being doted on. You’re not gonna lift a finger for nine months. Gonna let me take care of everything while all your energy goes into growing our baby.”

You look up at him helplessly. Big, sweet eyes that remind him of a puppy. He grins as your head bobs up and down in a nod.

“My good fucking girl. Let’s get out of here,” he says.

You’re quick to follow him out of the booth after he drops a couple bills on the table. Your fingers lace with his as he leads you to the main doors and back to the car. You take him in as he guides you. Just a few moments to admire his broad shoulders and muscular biceps. His protective grip and eyes that seemed serious to everyone else, but you could tell held more mischievous intent.

Once you reach the car, he opens the door for you, giving you a quick smack on the ass as you climb in. He’s right next to you after that, and as the engine comes to life, you almost wish he’d waited to have that conversation in here instead. Because now you were gonna have to sit here, turned on and untouched for the ride back. Heated skin and glossy eyes, it was pretty obvious how you were feeling. Most likely everyone in that restaurant and the driver sitting one seat in front of you all knew that Leon was going to fuck you dumb as soon as you stepped through the doors to your apartment.

You come to figure though, that if it’s already so obvious, what’s the harm in being a little more overt? Scooting over to him, you lean into his firm side. He looks down at you knowingly. Your fingers curl over his thick thigh, nearly brushing the most sensitive area of his lap.

“Feeling a little impatient?” he teases softly.

You nod. Sure your driver could hear murmuring, you just hoped he couldn’t make out exact words.

“Yeah, what do you want me to do about it?” he mocks, “You need Daddy’s fingers in that tight cunt? Can’t even wait till we get home to cum?”

You bite your lip to muffle the whine blooming in your throat. Your face burns at the use of the title that melted your mind down to a few simple words. Yes Daddy. Thank you Daddy. Pretty please. Wanna cum.

With another nod, you sink further into his chest. Your eyes remain up and keep their focus on him.

“Well, since it’s your birthday…” he starts. His hand swoops beneath your dress, bypassing your thighs this time and cupping your pussy, fingers coasting over the damp fabric.

You were pulsing with desire, your heart thudding against your chest. He pulls your lacy garment to the side to run his digits through your folds and feel the slick that had gathered for him. A low chuckle leaves him, and all you can think is how grateful you are for the radio being turned on, no matter how low the volume. From how wet you were, you were sure in dead silence you’d be able to hear more lewd noises than the words spilling from Leon’s mouth.

“Oh, you really can’t wait. You’re already making a mess all over my seats,” he whispers.

The pad of his finger swirls over your clit, and you hum quietly in relief. The pressure in the pit of your belly releases a bit as the warm flow of pleasure courses through you. Your eyes flutter shut, your hands hook around his arm for comfort, and you press your face to his shoulder to obscure your reactions to the feeling.

“My perfect little doll. I press the right button and look how well you behave,” he breathes.

You suck in a breath, narrowly avoiding a whimper tumbling into the car. He plays with your bundle of nerves for a minute more before slipping two fingers down and slipping them inside you.

Your fingers dig into the sleeve of his suit, clutching it as he pumps in and out of you. He works himself in, up to his knuckles. Your thighs part a little more to give him some space to work with. He shakes his head and playfully tuts at the display of need.

“Poor baby, Daddy got you so worked up, didn’t he?” he coos softly against your head.

You nod quickly. All your focus is on keeping quiet as his fingers move between your walls as you clamp around them. He smiles and continues lightly. It was your birthday so he would be nice, wouldn’t try to embarrass you too bad.

You’re so wrapped up in the throes of ecstasy he’s bringing you that you don’t even notice when the car has stopped. The only thing you notice is his fingers are now gone and you feel painfully empty.

Your eyes dart up when you lose the warm, filling sensation. Unlike usual, you contain your whine of protest as you realize your moments away from getting what you really wanted.

Like a movie of the beginning of the evening playing in reverse, you both make your way back to the elevator. He keeps a firm hold on your hand as he takes the lead. You stumble behind, all but collapsing in his arms once you're in the elevator. He leans down into some sloppy kisses. Your tongues meet, and your lips smoosh against each other fervently as if you’re running out of time.

After what seems like forever, you hear that little ding, and he wastes no time pulling you into the apartment. You’re kissing on the way to the bedroom, hands roaming one another as you bump into furniture and nearly knock clutter off tables. His suit jacket is gone before the bed is even in sight. Buttons on his shirt had already been popped open as he throws you on the bed.

He climbs on top of you, continuing to make out with you for a moment. His lips start to head south, finding their place on your neck again while his hands start pushing up the skirt of your dress to bunch it at your waist. There was no teasing tonight. You were the birthday girl after all, and he intended to keep his word that the evening was about you.

His entire body drifts downward now. Placing himself on the end of the mattress, you nearly can’t see him from fabric that was hiked up. You can feel him though. Tongue and teeth grazing along your inner thighs, making you shudder.

In the midst of his frenzy of desire, he seems to remember something. He rises to his knees and starts to properly remove the dress from your body.

“Almost forgot to unwrap my gift,” he says.

He’s discarded the dress to the floor in no time. You lie there, on display for him in the lingerie he’d chosen just for this. His hands stroke your sides as he takes in the view of your nipples pebbles beneath the embroidered rosebuds, the soaked patch of fabric between your thighs. He’s lost in the sight of you, feeling almost as hazy as you did.

“Sweet baby, the only present I ever need,” he mumbles before lowering himself to the bed again.

He yanks down the pretty panties and tosses them over to sit with your dress. Then you finally feel some of the relief you’d been craving. He dives into your cunt, lips moving as he envelops your sex in the heat of his mouth.

His tongue strokes up and down the velvet skin. He laps at your clit, paying attention to the precious bundle of nerves that had you crying out and writhing in his hold. You reach down and tug at his hair, causing a loud groan to emanate from the junction of your thighs. He devours you with increasing fervor.

“Pussy’s so fucking pretty,” he mutters into you, “So cute. My favorite toy.”

Your head falls back while your hips roll against his face. Gasps and whines erupt from your throat freely as you rotate between clawing at the sheets and pulling at his hair.

“All for you Daddy,” you choke out, trying not to devolve into a complete mess just yet.

He smirks up at you, enjoying the pathetic lilt in your voice. His thumb rubs your clit in quick strokes now while his mouth takes a quick break to speak.

“That’s right, baby. All for Daddy,” he repeats, words coming out slow like you’d struggle to understand if he spoke too fast, “All mine whenever I want it. Isn’t that right?”

“Mhm, whenever you want,” you babble back.

“My smart girl,” he teases before returning to licking your cunt.

The room is vibrating to you. You’re so high in the clouds you can’t register anything in your mind that isn’t him. You vaguely feel him working two fingers inside you again as his lips wrap around your clit and suck on it in a way that causes you to shriek.

He laughs and continues on, holding your body in place as it jerks and seizes under his touch.

“Good girl, babydoll. Cum all over Daddy’s face. You deserve it,” he encourages you.

You keep cumming. Your slick coats his chin and mouth, and he laps up every drop that he can. He pleasures you through the high. Once he’s worked you over the edge, and he can tell you’re coming down, he pulls off.

“My favorite sound in the whole world. Those pretty noises you make while you let go for me,” he murmurs as he crawls back on top of you. He nuzzles your neck, leaving some kisses on the skin in the wake of your powerful release.

“You know that normally, I’d keep going, but I think we both wanna get to the next thing. Want me to breed that sweet pussy till I’m firing blanks,” he says.

He finishes pulling his shirt off and removes the clothing from his lower body quickly. He’s back on top of you before you even register he was gone. Lazily stroking his cock, he slides it between your folds, gently fitting up against you.

“My little doll ready?” he whispers.

You hook your arms around his neck and nod. He can tell by your languid movements that you’re almost loopy off your release.

“Yeah you are. My perfect girl,” he whispers as he slides in, sheathing himself in the warmth of your pussy.

He grunts and tightens his hold on you as he sinks all the way in with no resistance. Your walls flutter around him, already beginning to charge up the hot coils in his belly.

“Swear you were made for me,” he mumbles into your neck, “Pussy made for me to fuck full. Precious little face made for me to kiss.”

“Mhm,” you hum absentmindedly. You hook your legs around his waist, locking his hips against yours as he starts to grind himself into your cunt. His pelvis rubs against your sensitive clit while the head of his cock prods all your favorite spots deep inside.

He grunts and groans against your throat. Both of your hot and sticky skin slides against the others. His breath fans across you in hot pants as he starts working his hips a little harder, rocking in and out.

“Everything about you is all for me. My perfect doll. My good girl. My gorgeous fucking wife,” he growls.

You nod eagerly as you pull him closer. His hips smack against yours repeatedly, his heavy balls clapping against you with each thrust. Your breaths are shaky. It feels like you're headed towards another release with no ability to hold it off or stop it. You whine for him and squeeze around his length. So fucking tight, he actually whimpers to stop himself from blowing his load.

After a while more, he knows it’s imminent for both of you. He keeps pistoning his hips, rutting deep inside you while kissing you and capturing those sweet little sounds in his mouth.

“You there, babydoll? Gonna cum again for me?” he asks quietly, watching for the nod he knew you’d respond with. Once he sees it, he works a little harder, bringing you to the peak. “Yeah? You ready for Daddy to cum too? I know you are.”

With his voice rasping in your ear, his cock drilling deep inside you, it only takes one more thrust of his hips for you to reach the brink. You spill over into your second release. Your hips buck, and your chest heaves as the second round of ecstasy zips through you.

He hums as you contract around his shaft, clenching and drawing him in further, as if you’re crying out for him to give you his cum already. His cock twitches inside of you as he gasps and erratically fucks it into you. His entire body weight is pressing you down into the mattress as he lets go and gives up on not crushing you beneath him. It only added to the pleasure though. It was the closest you’d ever felt, and not only because his cock was bumping your cervix every couple seconds.

Soon enough, he’s spilled all that he can into you. He remains on top of you though, keeping you right where you should be. His arms snake under your body and the shift causes you to whimper since he still hadn’t pulled out. He holds you to him like you really were his dolly, peppering kisses along the side of your face and dragging his nose against your head.

“So good for me, like always,” he mumbles.

You reciprocate the affection with a few lazy kisses of your own. Your arms rest around him with no actual grip, simply just a way to show you return the sentiments.

The two of you just lay there like that for a little while, taking in each other, enjoying the peace that comes with release. You break the silence soon enough with a whisper.

“Think this has been my best birthday yet.”

He smiles and smooches you a few more times. “You deserve it, baby.”

“Thank you for making it perfect for me,” you say and tighten your limbs around him.

“Mhm,” he hums like it’s nothing. He then pulls back a little and looks down at you. “I don’t know why you’re talking like it’s over though, sweetheart. There’s still a few hours left of your actual birthday, and even then, I’m not gonna let some numbers stop me from fucking my gorgeous wife.”

You return the smile and pull him into a few more pecks.

“And I wasn’t lying, we’re going until I’m absolutely certain you’re knocked up,” he murmurs as he rocks his hips against you again, drawing a soft whimper from your throat, “And you know how precise I am. Probably shouldn’t make any plans for tomorrow, actually, probably need the whole weekend too.” He looks at you with a cocky smile before continuing the roll of his hips.

1K notes View Post

fouyumixuri

1 year ago

home

RE4R Leon Kennedy x f!reader

Leon's home from Spain and the only thing he needs is a familiar face.

18+ only MDNI

content: a little hurt/comfort, established relationship, unprotected p in v, oral f!receiving, creampie word count: 3k

There were fewer things in life more pleasant than the feeling of a warm mug clutched against your palm, a thick, fuzzy blanket in your lap, and a book resting on your thighs. Your fingers are flicking at the corner of the page as you took in the words written so elegant yet simple on the page, transporting you to world’s beyond. It’s raining, and the brisk autumn air begins to nip when the sun sinks below the horizon, but you’ve been nestled totally content in your home since well before the light had begun to dwindle. Dinner was forgotten after a quick shower to scrub the day off your skin, the world so colorfully illustrated in black and white sucking you in too far for you even to feel the passage of time.

Heroes and heroines, love stories and daring rescues, it isn’t your usual genre, but after enough recommendations you’d decided to give it a try, swallowing your pride to admit the praise was well earned to your friends when they asked.

Knock knock

The sound of a fist slamming brutally against your door has your heart skipping as you squeak in shock, your eyes shooting to your clock to find it was nearing 1 AM, a time well beyond acceptable visiting hours. Another two bangs, and your spine goes rigid with fear.

“Are you home?” Even through the door, the sound of that slurred voice has your terror ebbing and annoyance flowing in its place. “Can you open the door? Please?”

Though you already know who it is, you peek through the small round glass, a mess of dirty blonde hair hunched against the doorframe greeting you. Muttering under your breath, you undo the chain, wrenching the door open hard enough to have none other than Leon S. Kennedy toppling over face-first at your feet.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” you spit, your tone laced with so much venom even you feel its poison.

“Just needed to see you,” he practically whines, groaning against your cheap wooden floors.

“We’re not doing this, Leon. I told you, I’m done.”

“Please, Bug.”

“Don’t call me that.”

It’s almost embarrassing watching him try to stand, the thick arms that usually sweep you off your feet with ease barely able to push himself up, his face falling into your stomach as his foot gives way beneath him seconds after getting himself onto one knee. Instinct has you catching him from falling, and he wraps himself around you like a life raft, breathing in deeply as if he’s been trapped beneath the rolling tides and just found the surface. The desperation of it plucks at your pity chord, and your fingers thread into his hair and scrape against his scalp in the way you know he likes, soothing hushes falling from your lips as you cradle him close.

Your past with Leon is tumultuous, he is a man torn in two by the duties he’d sworn to uphold and the one thing that could convince him to give it all up and walk away. You’d met by accident, crossing paths with him at an event and leaving when his eyes as blue as a summer sky had consumed you completely. He was as sweet and playful as he was dark and deadly, and he’s careful to keep that latter side as far away from you as he could. And that quest had begun keeping him away for longer stretches, his ability to lock away the pain and anguish that plagued him beginning to fail.

Spain had been his last location, he’d told you before he left he’d be overseas for an undetermined amount of time. It had been months. After weeks of checking reports and news articles to see if Officer Leon Kennedy had been killed daily, you’d given up. The thought that maybe he’d lied had passed through your mind, maybe it was his way of finally cutting whatever co-dependent cord that attached you to each other. Someone had to be brave and strong enough to do it, and you were certain that couldn’t be you. But here he is, drunk off his ass and clinging to you with every ounce of strength he has, and whatever his alcohol-induced plan is, you hate to admit it’s working.

You knew he was back, it had been all over the news, “President’s Daughter Saved by Hero!” That happened two weeks ago. Seeing him applauded had made your chest swell in pride until you recalled telling him this drawn-out sham of a relationship was over when he’d brought you the news of his latest assignment. You couldn’t take it anymore, the distance and the secrets, the months away and the lack of contact. It was practically debilitating, but it hadn’t mattered that he wasn’t your concern anymore in those months he was gone. It felt worse than waiting for an email he’d sneak in or a spotty phone call where you could barely make out the words but the sound of his voice still washed over you like a soothing balm.

It’s why you couldn’t truly be angry now.

“Let’s go,” you finally urge, your tone gentler now, “Bed.”

It takes every bit of your strength to pull him into your bed, whiskey heavy on his breath when he collapses on top of you while mustering enough decency to kick his boots off as he sighs in what must be relief. Your lights are still on, and you’re certain the door is unlocked, but there’s no moving now, he’s too heavy and warm and familiar. You can’t be mad, because then you’d have to admit that you didn’t want this, that you hadn’t thought about the way your mattress just feels more comfortable with his weight dipping it down to the perfect point. It would be a lie.

“Leon?” you whisper into his hair–it smells like a bar, stale, musty cigarettes and sweat–but he’s already out cold, too comfortable and content in your embrace now to stay awake.

He sees more horrors in a week than most do in their lifetime, and he finds safety here. It’s something you take for granted, especially in the long stretches of his absence filled with solo dinners and lonely nights, but it’s impossible to forget as he’s curled into you as much as his large frame allows, his breathing slow and easy. The familiarity of it drags you under, your eyes drifting closed as your fingers scratch soothingly up and down his spine.

******

Butter crackles and pops over the hum of your podcast coming through the small speaker beside the sink. Early morning light filters in through the paper shades still drawn in the kitchen, the tiles cool on your bare feet while you chop fruit and various toppings for the omelet you’ve been thinking about making since last night.

Leon was still in bed, getting out from beneath his heavy body without waking him could be considered your morning workout. He hadn’t moved an inch all night from where he’d fallen asleep pressed to your chest. When your rumbling stomach had become too much to bear you’d had to pull away, despite how little you found yourself wanting to.

“That smells good,” a sheepish voice calls from the doorway, your head turning to find Leon slumped against the frame scratching the back of his head, his eyes avoiding yours, “I’ll go. I’m sorry for showing up like this. Thanks…for not kicking me out onto the street.”

“You can stay. Just take a shower. I can smell you from here.”

He laughs, his face lighting up enough to wash away the harrowing look he’d been wearing, “You didn’t throw my clothes out onto the curb?”

“I didn’t, actually. I like your shirts.”

“Well, they look better on you anyway.”

Ten minutes later as you plate fruit and omelets and pull two slices of bread from the bag on the counter, you hear him approaching, and you don’t even try to suppress the happy little smile settling on your lips. Flicking the toaster on as you spin, you soak in the sight of him turning into the room that always looks smaller when he’s in it. His hair is still damp and hanging loosely in his face, the shirt that was too tight months ago now on the verge of tearing at the seams when he reaches up to comb his locks out of his eyes. He looks better, the color returning to his face and the glow to the sea glass eyes you’d swam in so many times before. Your throat seizes for a moment when he flashes you a content smirk.

“What the hell happened?” you ask, your breath hitching when his arms cage you against the counter, his lips centimeters from yours.

“I forgot how pretty you look in the morning,” he whispers, his thumb and pointer tipping your chin up softly.

He gives you no time to comment on the blatant deflection, his pouty lips pressing to yours as he cups the back of your head, groaning when you reciprocate eagerly. Immediately, your hands find the warm, solid stretch of his chest, your hand falling instinctually to the steady beat of his heart. You’d learned early on that every symphony it beat into your ear as you laid on his chest could be the last, so the gentle taps against your palm are a welcome reminder that he’s still here. The dangers he faced had yet to lay claim.

“Missed you, Bug,” he murmurs against your lips, his nose nuzzling yours.

“Missed you, too,” you finally confirm, his relieved huff of laughter hot on your skin as he sighs in relief, kissing your forehead.

“Still mad at me?”

“Not til the next time you leave.”

“Gonna let me in the house when I get back?”

“If you’re lucky.”

It’s easy to tell he’s trying to control himself, the hardened bulge pressing against your inner thigh giving him away. His lips can’t stop pressing against yours, taking advantage of every pause in the conversation to peck at your still-speaking mouth, your arms finally wrapping around his neck warmly, his head burying into the crook of your neck. You lean your head against him, cradling him in the way you know he loves, his deep, content breaths heating the thin skin of your throat.

“I’m never lucky,” he sighs, and your heart aches for him.

This time is different, and you don’t know why. He always comes back battered and bruised both mentally and physically, but this time seems to have affected him even more than all the others. You don’t ask for details, he won’t tell you anyway, but you know he can work through it here, however slowly.

“You have a key, Leon,” you remind him with a chuckle, threading your fingers into his hair, “You can get in whenever you want.”

“You have to want me here,” he mumbles, “I have my own bed to sleep alone in.”

“I want you here.”

With those words, you pull his head up to stare into his tired eyes. You do want him here, and though your last outburst certainly had given him reason to think you didn’t, you hope he believes you now in the warm, soft realm of your embrace.

“I want you here,” you repeat, “I want you here. Not there. Do you know what it’s like when you’re away?! I make myself sick, obsessing over the news and…and obituaries…”

You pull away to read the guilt falling over his features. It had come out harsher than you intended to, but the point was made.

“I love you,” you whisper and then watch as he shatters.

“Saying things like that might make me consider retirement,” he chokes out, closing the space you’d made and leaning his forehead against yours.

“Oh yeah?” you respond, a sultry lilt to your tone as your hand drifts to the waistband of his sweatpants. “And what might convince you then?”

Before he can answer, your hand grips his already stiffened length, the way his breath trembles as you tug slowly sending a surge to your core. It takes him a moment to recalibrate as you drag your hand over him, and when he does, the ease at which he hoists you onto the counter makes you yelp, your arms wrapping around his neck as he wrestles your shorts off your hips.

As soon as you’re free, you spread your legs wide, ready for his body to notch between them in a perfect fit, but instead, he sinks to the floor. Teeth graze over your inner thighs, just the thought of how close his mouth is makes your cunt clench around nothing but anticipation. Rough hands loop around your legs, pulling you closer to the edge before pressing his lips to your clit and suckling just enough to make you buck up against his face. His hair is soft when you knot your fingers through it and lean back against the cabinet behind you, his tongue probing into your fluttering hole greedily as he seeks to reacquaint with what he’d missed.

Muffled groans are vibrating against you as he weaves through your slit, lapping at your juices leaking free before petitioning for more at your swollen bundle of nerves. You can see your arousal shining on his face when he pauses to take a lungful of air through a slackened jaw, his eyes as lidded as they were last night under the effect of alcohol. It’s shameless and unhindered the way he takes his fill, not that he was ever very timid before, but this time it feels like he wants and needs more, or maybe like he’d been afraid he’d never get to do this again.

You can already tell he won’t relent until you come on his mouth, so as the coil in your belly winds ever tighter you tug him by the blonde knots in your fist where you need him, enjoying the way he whined against your slick skin appreciatively. Two fingers slip inside you as his lips lock around your nub, curving and pressing the soft patch on your inner wall that has your vision flashing white. Every nerve is standing on edge as you lose control, your toes curling and fingers tugging on his hair hard enough it has to hurt, but he doesn’t stop or protest.

“Leon!” you cry out as you finally release his head to brace yourself on the countertop’s edge, “Lee-hmmm…”

His name is the last coherent word you get out before it’s only feral moans of bliss. You’re so close it’s like a fire burning in your limbs, every muscle tensing as you try to withhold it a little longer to prolong this moment where all you cared about was him and the way he could send you into the stars. When the tip of his tongue pinpoints and stiffens to flick teasingly before he latches once again, that’s all it takes to have the elastic snaps, sending a shockwave from your core all the way to the tips of your fingers, your scream echoing off the counters and windows. He’s satisfied with himself, smiling as he stands and lets your legs fall limply from his grasp, his hands catching your boneless body from slinking down onto the floor.

“M’gonna fuck you now,” he warns, gripping his cock that’s flushed purple and notching at your entrance, your response is nothing more than blind, sloppy kisses as you clean the taste of yourself off of his lips.

Your body welcomes him eagerly, sucking him in on his first thrust to the root. He sighs, gripping your waist to keep you still during the onslaught he’s set to release after you rip his shirt up over his head. Broad shoulders and thick pecs keep your fingers busy as you rememorize every dip and curve of his body, the slapping of skin on skin drowning out the pathetic whines falling from both of you as the sticky arousal leaking from your pussy soaks the patch of blonde hair at his base and drips down his thighs to pool on the waist of his pants he’s pulled down just enough. He’s not gentle, taking everything he needs with every hard piston of his hips, your legs quivering around him as you take every thick inch of him with no resistance.

Leon wants to slow down, to savor the friction of your silky walls over his dick that’s craved anything but his own calloused hand for months, but he can’t. Not when you’re so wet it takes all his concentration to not slip right out of your gaping hole that’s pulling him in with a vicelike grip. He wants to flip you around and bend you over the counter, take you from behind where he can arch your back by tugging your hair, your ass rippling from the force of his thrusts, but you’re still kissing him so sweetly as he fucks you this hard, his throat currently being lavished by your affection instead of strangled by a monster. And it’s that reminder that sets him over the edge.

Thick, hot ropes of cum fill your cunt as his head falls to your shoulder, his thumb flicking over your clit as he steadies his breath and his cock softens. It doesn’t take long for you to find release once again, gentler this time, quieter than the wildfire of the first and you let it ember as the mix of your releases leaks free, drenching you both and dripping onto the floor.

When he lifts his head to smile at you, his cheeks are flushed rosy pink, his eyes sparkling like gemstones before he cups the back of your head and kisses you in a silent thanks.

“I, uh, think we burnt the toast,” he chuckles, kissing you again before you can utter an unnecessary apology as the smell of charred bread finally registers, “Good thing I already had breakfast.”

Masterlist

567 notes View Post

fouyumixuri

11 months ago

𝐓𝐇𝚬 𝐒𝐖𝚶𝐑𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝚬 𝐋𝐀𝐌𝚩

tags:18+ minors dni, fem reader, reader has lamb attributes, prone bone position, fingering, overstimulation, unprotected sex under the stars, creampie, mentions of vouyerism

synopsis: the chemistry between you and a certain bough keeper finally blooms with a night under the stars.

If one were to ask Dainsleif what was the catalyst for these events he would say he doesn’t know - whether this was a result of a slowburn of events or a case of him rushing into things head first like in his youth, he would not be able to say. All he knows is that he wants you - has wanted you since the moment you first smiled at him. So sweetly, so happily as if he was a man and not a rotted relic from a nation bygone to the world above. People with animal features are not usual in the world of Teyvat - cat, dog and foxes ears paired with tails are ever so present so it wasn’t surprising to see the rather endearing round ears of a lamb on top of your head, pressed against the fleece like texture of your hair. Of which is pressed into the ground as his hand molds into the shape of your head, his forefinger and thumb rubbing at the softness of your ear that can be felt even with his gloves on.

A part of him grows guilty - taking you from behind, pressed into the dirt it isn’t right, he should at least put his cape on the ground. That would be the right thing to do, the knightly thing to do but when you press closer to him, your undressed flank pressing to his front and your little cotton tail almost tickles the starved skin of his pelvis he can’t find himself to care about right and wrong. All he can think about is how your walls suck at the fingers that are in you, slowly curling to rub against the spongy nerves in your walls and you can only moan so softly when his thumb rubs against your clit.

Dainsleif hisses when you squeak his name, your blown out eyes looking over your shoulders to catch the pink on his cheeks and the barely contained groan ripping from his lips at how tight your cunt sucks at his fingers, blue eyes with stars in the center meet yours and you cum when he looks at you like he wants to make you his. Dainsleif groans, the flutters of your cunt and the way it soaks his hand, running from his fingers to his palms are all in time with how his cock aches in his pants. Your hands are clutching at the ground, nails leaving lines in the dirt when he pulls his fingers out - huffing at the ache of not being filled anymore, it pulls a laugh from him as he tugs away at his clothing as quickly as he can.

“Desperate are we?” He asks, voice rough by desire and by the annoyance of not being in you right now. You can’t even give him a vocal answer, only nodding and bending further down, presenting yourself to him as if you were in heat. Your tail trembles,raised and enticing and Dain can’t help himself to reach out to touch, to stroke the softness with his thumb. His cock, pink and ruddy is present when you moan at his touch to your sensitive tail, if you could look over rather than collapsing into your crossed arms at his touch you would have seen how his cock twitches at your sweet sounds.

“Come here, I won’t fuck you like an animal.” Dain grumbles, bringing his hands to your waist to press down, letting you lie flat on the ground as he crowds you from above. Your underwear is ruined, ripped and soaked from his fingers and the pretty skirt you wear on hot days is rucked up to your waist. Even your breasts that heave with each breath are free and they hover over the ground, your nipples puffy and tight for him to pinch at as he directs the shaft of his cock to the dripping slit of your cunt. When the head catches onto the opening he can’t help but hiss at how you whine, sighing so prettily at how he slowly inches his cock into you.

“Dain - please!” You whine, keening to high heaven as he gives you more and more, pressing a hand onto your back to keep you flat on the ground even as your back arches at the pleasure of being filled makes you bow into him.

“Shh, shh why do you cry sweet lamb? Am I not giving you what you want?” He rumbles from above, the scent of sex is so potent in the air if he were to wet his lips he’d taste your cunt in the air. You’re trembling beneath him, gasping and shaking with each breath as your fleece-like hair clings to your hot face. It takes you a minute to do anything but take what he gives you and as he finally is pressed against you again - your little tail tickling his exposed pelvis makes him laugh, breathlessly and emptily.

“You’re big - so big…ah…s’good.” You mutter, in shortened and sweet gasps that only break up more when he begins to fuck into you with slow, deep strokes that make you want to curl up into yourself to the point where you become a little speck rather than a person. You like it slow, he remembers from the time the two of you spent a night in a small hotel in between Liyue and Sumeru, and he could hear you pleasuring yourself with slow little touches to your clit and cunt. While Dansleif will forever bemoan his life as a sinner, a blasphemous man but still he has a man’s pride and to see how much he pleasures you to the point of tears from both your eyes and your cunt strokes his ego more than he’d like to admit.

“Sweet girl, shh, just take what I give you, can you do that for me?” He murmurs to you, one hand leaving your hips to grasp at your breast, fingers tugging at your tight nipple that it makes you mewl paired with the way his cock strokes at the nerves inside of you. You sigh, moan, cry, whine his name and each time it sounds more beautiful than the last iteration. Tight in the clutch of your cunt, your pliable flesh in his grasp Dain can’t help but think - is this what it’s all for? The destruction of his home, the failure of his duty and his suffering from then to now was all of it meant to make this moment with you all the more tantalizing sweet than it would have ever been? Dain can’t think about it anymore, not when he grunts when he feels you cum around him, your silken walls fluttering and milking at him with such desperation he wonders if you are trying to take his whole being into you and not just the physical.

“Dain, Dain - Dain! M’cumming, oh!” Your breaths are short and clipped, and you are tight but soft around him and he feels the tug of your cunt on his soul. He keeps you there, pressed into you even as you crumble beneath him to the point you go lax, thighs twitching as you take stuttering breaths. Your cunt burns, aches from the sensitivity and of being stretched so full in a way you’ve never been able to with your fingers alone. It’s sticky, wet and messy where you are connected - strings of your release clings to his skin and he can’t help but indulge in the cruel thought of fucking you fast and harsh unlike how he was before.

“More, give me one more.” He mutters into the fleece of your hair and the hand playing with your breast reaches down, down until it’s stroking at the wet nub of your clit and he picks up the pace again. Your breath goes from stuttered to haggard at the pleasure, it burns so good you feel the strings of pleasure ache in your lower belly from your sensitivity. Though strong of heart you are weak of body and you lack of stamina is demonstrated at how you ache with each swipe at your pearl as his cock fills you again and again. With your eyes blurry and hazy, you peer down your front to see where you are connected and you only gasp when you see the ring of sticky white that can be seen eahc time he pulls out only to fuck himself back in as the same white cream of your cum stains his still gloved left hand.

“D-did you cum in me?” You wonder, cunt clenching at the thought of a man like Dain giving you more than his cock but a physical reminder that he was deep inside of you. He grunts, sweat running down his temple as he feels his own hair begin to stick to the now pink tinted skin of his face.

“No, not yet,” He pauses to groan into your hair as he crouches down to press his front to your back and keeps his hips at the even pace he’s kept them at. His wrist burns and pleasure snaps at his spine and he knows this is it.

“It’ s just you so far.” He hisses into your ear, rubbing his not rotted cheek into the softness of your form, affection given in the middle of your coupling that makes your heart skip a beat and cum around him for the second time. It’s too soon, and the unexpected tugging of your cunt as you finish around him makes him come with a cut off groan of your name to the night sky above the two of you. He cums in you, it’s hot and thick and you even try to clench around what he spills into you as if to keep him inside you forever.

You both stay there, for a little while an Dain finds it hard to even think about the consequences of what follows from here on out. It doesn’t matter he thinks. You’ve turned your head and you press a fleeting kiss, something small an sweet just like you are and he finds it more charming than it should. You are warm, soft and sticky but he doesn’t think he is any different from you. Placing his hands on the ground next you he lifts himself up to press a kiss to your temple, you hum and he huffs seeing how that ever so cute tail of yours almost wags at the affection.

“Here, head back to the camp. I’ll get us water from the stream.” Dain says, reaching up to tuck back some hair from your flushed face. You nod, voice lost from all the noise you made and Dainslief is in awe at how beautiful you are, here under the stars and fucked out beyond what you’ve ever experienced before.

“Do you promise to comeback?” You ask, voice crooking and Dain can only nod, he can’t deny you anything. Not anymore.

It happens as he asked, together you sleep on your sleeping matts with the exception of now they are pressed together to form one big matt rather than on opposite sides of the fire like before. Dain doesn’t sleep right away, instead he watches you rest with your cheek pressed to his chest and thinks of you. Thinks of how he wants you, again and again until eternity comes to an end. He thinks of what you’d like for breakfast when dawn breaks and how he’ll carry you from the soreness of your legs. He thinks about keeping you safe, until his destiny comes to it’s end.

Most importantly, he thinks about how right now it doesn’t not matter. You are his and he is yours. That’s enough, no matter what it is the Seven or beyond say.

625 notes View Post

fouyumixuri

1 year ago

Mane 6 - sharpycharot

24K notes View Post

fouyumixuri

1 year ago

@mouyashii plush... I love him and her

1K notes View Post

fouyumixuri

1 year ago

HI HI!! i love ur blog sm i had to request something!! can we pls get some fluffy leon hcs where he's playing w his partner's hair? or caressing their skin, anything along those lines🥺

im touch starved istg

Pairing: Leon Kennedy x gn!reader

Genre: Headcanons, Fluff

Synopsis: Leon’s love language is physical touch – Leon takes you on a surprise date to the local carnival!

Word Count: 1.4K

Warnings: mentions of carnivals but no clowns, large crowds, mentions of social anxiety

A/N: I don’t know how to write headcanons lol. So, hopefully this is okay for the first time. I also don’t know how to keep things short and sweet, I was itching to write a whole ass fic for this LMAO. thank you anon for the idea and for loving my humble blog! <3

__________

- masterlist -

__________

You always found it surprising that Leon would put 110% effort in planning your monthly date nights. Usually, he’s cool, calm, and collected, so you didn’t strike him as the type to become giddy about some outing; however, Leon always managed to prove you wrong. He was an excellent planner thanks to all the years of training his observation skills.

He knew exactly what you liked and didn’t like. So even if you hated surprises, Leon would always orchestrate the date accordingly and ease into the activity he knew you’d enjoy.

Plus, you trusted him more than you trusted your anxiety!

Before you even leave the house, Leon's sitting on the closed lid of the bathroom toilet, watching as you get yourself ready for whatever outing he'd been brewing for the past week. His eyes would be keen on you the entire time, shifting to look at your reflection in the mirror, then back towards you.

Since he doesn’t want to interrupt your work – you are putting in the time and energy to look good for him after all – Leon resorts to verbal compliments and being your personal hype boy.

You'd usually listen to music or play a video to accompany your routine, but nowadays, Leon was the only companion you needed.

Leon can't sit still for long, so he'll be hovering all around you. One moment, he's standing behind you and wrapping his arms around your midriff to catch you in a tight back hug. Next, he's turning you around with his hands on your hips as he tries to convince you that you don't need anything to make you look more breathtaking than you already were.

You pinch him arm gently, warning him that he'll make you both late if he keeps distracting you. So, he offers to help you with your hair instead.

The man wants to be involved! Let him dote on you!

Surprisingly, Leon's decent as a hairstylist. Experienced from handling young Sherry’s hair, Leon forcibly learned almost any and all basic hairstyles. He'll be extra gentle with you though, making sure not to pull too tight or harshly brush through knots. If he's feeling a bit childish, he'll try to tickle your earlobes. But when you get annoyed, he'll offer an apologetic kiss on your neck before neatly finishing his style.

Sometimes he’ll ask what style you want, but most times you let him decide for you. Secretly, you know he enjoys dolling you up to his expectations, so as long as it looks well kept, you didn’t mind what he did for you.

Leon's not the best driver, so unfortunately, he can't do the one hand driving, one hand on your left thigh ordeal. No matter how much he wants to be cool, he doesn't have the confidence to drive without two hands on the wheel like a teen who'd just gotten their permit.

It's okay though, because he'll interlace his fingers with yours and softly kiss the back of your hand at red lights. Maybe, he can sneak in a peck when there's traffic too.

Leon always opens the door for you and offers a helping hand which never lets go unless absolutely necessary. It's not uncommon for couples to hold hands in public, but when he's brought you to the local carnival with an abundance of people, he's definitely making sure you don't get lost in the crowd. Your safety comes first after all.

If you get anxious around a lot of people, Leon will either rub his thumb over the back of your hand soothingly as he whispers some reassuring words for you or he'll move so that his body acts as a sort of barrier.

You'll always follow closely behind him, tugging at his clothes just in case your hands disconnected for whatever reason. Once you're out of the crowd, Leon will make sure you're feeling okay before holding you closer by latching his arm around your waist.

It’s a win-win for the both of you. You get to feel his warmth from his protection, and he gets to ward off anyone who thinks they have a chance with you. Boy is possessive, so don’t stray too far!

If you get self-conscious about PDA, Leon will pout, but he'll get over it. As much as he wants to smother you in kisses for the world to see that you are his lover, Leon would never force you to be in an uncomfortable situation especially in public.

Therefore, he'll compromise with a ghost touch at the small of your back or a soft grip on your shoulder. He'll know he's doing okay because you'll subconsciously lean closer to him and sometimes put a hand on top of his.

The both of you will explore the carnival grounds for a while, trying your hand at a few carnival games. Of course, Leon is very competitive in nature and an excellent marksman, so he'll absolutely ace at any and all shooter games. But this time, he'll push you up to the podium this time and help you win your own prize.

He'll stand behind you with both hands on your shoulders as he tells you to focus on the three glass bottles. He gives clear instructions, waiting for you to nod your head or make a noise in confirmation before sliding his arms down yours and aiming the toy gun towards the bottles.

He'll hover towards your level, chin resting on the curvature of your shoulder. He does this to help see how you’re aiming, but he purposely pushes himself closer to tease you. He can’t help that you’re just smaller than him and that your figure is always begging for him to embrace you.

He knows you're nervous, but he wants you to win, so he'll wrap his hands around your shaking hands, gripping the stock to stabilize you and the gun before shifting your aim. Once lined up, he'll let you pull the trigger on your own, successfully knocking down the three bottles. Elated, you turn and envelope yourself into a congratulatory hug before happily accepting the prize.

When you're both hungry and take a seat at an open table to snack on the overpriced carnival food, Leon now does the hand on the thigh thingy.

He'll go the extra mile and hook your leg over his, so that you're partially thrown over his lap as he traces random lines on your skin. Again, if you're anxious about large crowds, this'll soothe you.

You can't say you've been to a carnival if you hadn't gone on the ferris wheel, right? Is it very obvious that he plans to seal the night with a romantic kiss at the top of the ride? Yes. But, you'll pretend you don't know what he's planning to do.

Leon's never truly loved someone before, so don't blame him when he gets all his ideas from cheesy romance movies. You'd never expose him though, because you didn't mind being the main character sometimes.

You can tell he's nervous, his eyes are watching the wheel spin round and round as you wait in line. Now it's your turn to calm his nervousness down as you wrap yourself on his bicep and lean your head on his muscles. He'll look away with a soft, goofy smile before taking his free hand and giving you a soft head pat to silently thank you.

Once on the ride, Leon prefers that you sit next to him. Although he liked looking at you sitting across from him, Leon felt much more comfortable with you by his side, especially when you both were swinging higher than the treetops.

As the ride begins to move, Leon will wrap an arm around your side, planting a firm grip on your hip and pulling you close to him. Even when the cart shakes, Leon's hold is firm and keeps you stable, but that doesn't prevent you from fearfully gripping his midsection.

He'll let out a teasing laugh at your timid reaction and press a kiss on your temple as you hide your face in his chest.

Once at the very top, Leon will uncover you and take a moment to admire you. He's very keen on eye contact, so he'll hold your chin with his fingers as he expresses how much he loves you. He'll slide his fingers until they're placed on the side of your neck and pull you in for that cliche kiss to perfectly end the night.

needy leon

disclaimer: not proofread, smut, 18+ content, mdni!, just sexual stuff.

✩⃝ ok, so imagine Leon coming back to your shared home, all needy, stressed and horny for you.

✩⃝ Poor guy has been away from you for weeks, you being the only thing that kept him going.

✩⃝ Masturbating to you whenever he had the chance to, moaning and chanting your name over and over again, hoping you could magically appear out of nowhere.

✩⃝ Still, it wasn't enough for his needy self, he needed to fuck you so, so bad.

✩⃝ Imagine the joy he felt when he was finally able to come back home, to be able to hold you and touch you after so many days.

✩⃝ Leon is just smothering you to death. As soon as he saw you, he kissed you with such hunger and neediness.

✩⃝ He was touchy, sloppy, and very, very vocal.

✩⃝ You could even hear him sighing and whining, finally having you in his arms.

✩⃝ His hands groping and gripping every part of your body so hard, leaving red hand marks all over.

✩⃝ You weren't a stranger to this behavior from him, Leon always got like this when he came back from such long missions.

✩⃝ And of course, you loved it. You loved the attention he instantly gave you, you loved seeing him like this.

✩⃝ It wasn't long before he picked you up and took you to the bed, he wasn't gonna wait more than he already has.

✩⃝ He had you pinned under him, his body weight keeping you there, but it wasn't like you were trying to move. You needed this too, you were as desperate as he was.

✩⃝ You could feel his dick pressing up against your thighs as he rolled his hips against them as his face was pressed against your neck, his mouth open while groans and moans escaped, his warm breath hitting your skin.

✩⃝ In a matter of seconds he had you both naked, rapidly thrusting his dick into your tight, wet pussy.

✩⃝ The sound bed frame hitting the wall and the bed creaking competing against your's and Leon's moans.

✩⃝ He kept whispering things into your ear in such a husky tone as he rammed his dick inside you.

✩⃝ "so fucking good", "take it, just take it", "fuckfuckfuck", "good girl"

✩⃝ You couldn't help but moan frantically as he talked, you two were too far gone.

✩⃝ Didn't take long for Leon to cum inside you and for you to climax, but he still wasn't satisfied.

✩⃝ This kept going, and he wasn't gonna stop until he was satiated.

✩⃝ It's safe to say your night was filled with multiple orgasms and overstimulation thanks to Leon's needy ass.

sorry for being kinda inactive, uni's been killing me lately. anyway, I was hoping to turn this into a longer/more detailed fic if you guys want??? don't be afraid to interact!! I hope y'all like this :))

1K notes View Post

fouyumixuri

1 year ago

You Made it Shine

➪the one where you’ve been feeling a bit lonely, and leon intends on making it up to you.

Warnings: first time daddy kink writer - be gentle, age gap, 18+, daddy kink obvi, oral (f & m receiving), fingering, unprotected sex (leon just really wants to knock you up), breeding kink, swearing, scratching, biting, hair pulling, choking, y’all are f r e a k y

Word Count: 4.3k

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡ | Thank you for 3.6k followers mwah

Some trash reality TV show played in the background while you flipped to another page in your textbook. You had been given a fucking stupid amount of homework to do by next Monday, and you were beginning to feel stressed out about it all.

It didn’t help that you missed your boyfriend, either.

Leon had been very busy lately, and you only really saw him when he got in bed with you after eleven PM.

While you didn’t know much about what he did for work, you knew it required him to be gone a lot and he had to dedicate most of his time to it.

You huff quietly as you scribble out a word you misspelt before trying again, glancing over at your phone when it went off from its place on the floor beside you.

Daddy 💖: Gonna be another late night, I think. I’m sorry, baby, I know you wanted to watch that new movie. I promise we’ll get to it soon. Be home in a few hours ❤️

You huff again and quickly type out a message before tossing your phone aside, knowing damn well how childish you are acting, but also not caring at all.

I’m bored, Leon. I miss you. Let me know when you have time for me.

As you started to read over the notes you took during your lecture earlier today, your phone went off again within seconds of you sending that last text.

Daddy 💖: Don’t be like that, princess, I’m feeling bad enough as it is. I’ll be home soon and then we can figure out a time that works for both of us. Only a few more weeks then I’ll get to use some of my unpaid days off, and I’ll be spending every one with you.

You bite your lip and decide not to answer, already feeling a bit bad for how you acted in your previous message to him.

Leon worked very hard and put in more hours than most people, and you knew he got into that kind of work early on in his life. He didn’t tell you really anything about his job, but you knew he started when he was twenty one and had been in the same field ever since, now at the age of thirty three.

You were only twenty two, and you seriously couldn’t imagine putting yourself through half the things he did, so you had to appreciate his dedication, even if just a little bit.

After reading for a while, you ventured off to yours and Leon’s shared room and changed into a lacy, black two piece pyjama set so you could be a bit more comfortable while you studied.

You ate a few pieces of strawberries you had cut up for lunch earlier as you skimmed through your notes, the time passing by quicker than you thought it would.

Before long the front door was swinging open and slamming shut, and the sound of heavy footsteps were heard approaching the living room. “Baby,” Leon rasped as he stood in the doorway.

You look up at him from your spot on the carpet, your books and pages scattered around you. “Hi,”

Leon shrugged off his jacket and tossed it onto the armchair next to the door before he was slowly crouching down and meeting your eye level. “Hi,” he said back. His eyes raked over the mess of papers and the tired look on your face, his heart aching a bit at how neglected you looked. “I was worried about you.”

You leaned into his touch when he reached over and ran his knuckles along the curve of your jaw. “Why?”

“You didn’t answer my text,” he stated as his gaze dipped down to your lips.

Shrugging, you look back at your book. “I felt bad for how I acted,”

“For how you acted?” Leon laughed quietly and moved so he is kneeling next to you. “Baby, I’m the one who cancelled our plans, again. I’m the one who feels bad.”

You tilt your head when his chin comes to rest on your shoulder. “It’s alright,” you murmured as you felt his lips softly brush the skin behind your ear. “Work comes first. I know that.”

“Not when it comes to you,” he corrected as he moved to pull you onto his lap right there on the living room floor. “You should know that, instead.”

You were finding it hard to focus with his body pressed right up against your back, and his hands running up and down the skin of your thighs, but you played it up as if his actions didn’t faze you.

Until he leaned in and pressed his lips to the side of your neck, moving upwards to whisper, “You look so pretty, baby,” and you just could not stop the shiver that ran through your body. “Did you wear this for me?”

You were helpless as you nodded, glancing over at the time on your phone and seeing that Leon had only been at work for another hour before getting home, and not a few like he said. “Did you rush home for me?”

“Everything I do is for you,” he reminded you as he trailed his mouth along your shoulder blade. “Everyday, you’re on my mind, baby.”

You bite your lip as you turn your head so you can look into his annoyingly pretty eyes. Pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth, you close your eyes as you lean back against him. “I missed you, daddy,”

Leon groaned and pressed a proper kiss to your mouth, slipping his hands under your shirt as he murmured, “I missed you, too, princess. Fuck, did I ever,”

You turn fully so you’re straddling his lap and grip his shoulders with your fingers. “Touch me,” you nearly begged, missing the feeling of his hands on your body after going without it for nearly two straight weeks. “Please.”

Leon cooed at your pout, reaching up to pull at your bottom lip with his thumb. “My sweet girl,” he said, more so to himself. “I haven’t been taking very good care of you, have I?”

You shook your head and pressed your knees into the carpet on either side of his hips. “No, you always take good care of me,” you promised, tangling your hands in his hair. “I just miss you.”

He nodded and placed a noisy kiss on your lips. “I’m right here, baby,” he swore as his hands drifted lower, taking the lace of your panties between his fingers and pulling it down with him. “I’ll take care of you, like I always do.” He said against your mouth as he gently lifted you up and placed you down so your back is against the papers that were scattered all over the carpet.

They crinkle under you, but you don’t care as he pulls the lace from your body and immediately replaces it with his lips. You sigh and jolt a bit as you reach down to grip his head with one hand. “Daddy,”

Leon grunted against your core and the vibrations had you bucking up against him. “That’s right, baby,” he muttered, running the tips of his fingers along your wet folds. “You needed your daddy, huh?”

“Always,” you answer, spreading your thighs a bit more as he further delved into you. “I always need you, Leon.”

He hummed against your clit. “I need you, too,” he promised, wrapping his free arm around your thigh and pulling your body closer to his greedy mouth. “Every single fucking day I need you. You’ve made me so damn pathetic, princess.”

You moaned and arched your back a bit, further scrunching up the notes you took. “You’re so good to me, daddy,” you nearly whisper. “That doesn’t make you pathetic. It’s so attractive, you don’t even know how hot you are.”

Leon smiled up at you in appreciation. “I bet you don’t realize how hot you are, either, sweet girl,” he says. “And you taste so fucking good, I could stay down here forever.”

It was a sight that was nearly too hot to handle. Leon hadn’t even been home for five minutes before he was going down on you, still wearing his work clothes, which consisted of black jeans, a black shirt that fit him so well and showed off his toned chest, and boots.

You always thought he looked too hot to be going to work, but then you realized that he simply looked too hot all the time. How you managed to get him all to yourself, you’d never know, but he is somehow completely obsessed with you in every possible way.

“That’s fine with me,” you murmur, running your fingers through his hair and looking down at him. “I’m always so wet for you.”

Leon groaned loudly and began to fuck his fingers into your greedy core. “I know, sweet girl,” he mumbled, coating his fingers in your wetness with every thrust of his hand. “You’re so sensitive. I can just look at you and you’d get wet for me.”

“I can’t help it,” you say quietly. “You’re so hot, daddy.”

“I’m not teasing you, baby,” he promised, kissing your inner thigh as he continued to move his fingers in and out of you. “Not at all. I love how much you need me and how much I turn you on. It’s the same way for me. You make me so hard, it’s painful sometimes.”

You gasp out a laugh that quickly turns into a moan when he curls his fingers in order to be able to reach your sweet spot. “Daddy,” you whined, bucking your hips up as best as you could against his firm hold. “Please.”

“I know, princess,” he hummed, fucking his fingers hard into you and loving the way your face scrunched up at the pleasure. “I know. You just need your daddy to make you come, huh?”

“Please,” you say again, reaching down to grip his hand in yours. His other picked up the pace and his thumb brushed against your clit with every thrust. “Please.”

Leon kissed all along your thighs, never taking his eyes off your face. “I love it when you beg, baby,” he says. “But you don’t need to right now. I’m gonna get you off so good, I promise.”

“Leon,” you nearly yelled as his mouth returned to your clit. He sucked on it harshly and felt as your thighs shook a bit. He moved down when he felt your release coat his fingers, and delved his tongue within your walls to taste you.

“Good girl. Good fucking girl,” he praised, sliding his sopping fingers out of you and licking them clean. “You taste so good, baby. So sweet.”

You whine and pull him down on top of you. “Please, daddy,” you begged, kissing him deeply as he settled between your thighs. “I need you. Want you to fuck me so badly.”

He tsked, bracing himself by his forearms on either side of your head. Next to where your hair is sprawled out was a sheet from the lecture you had earlier, and Leon grinned at the small amount of drool that left your lips and landed on the paper. It smudged your name and made the ink bleed a bit, but you didn’t care at all. “Look at you,” he groaned, licking up the line of salvia from your mouth to your jaw. “My smart girl, all hot and bothered for me. You want me to fuck you stupid, huh?”

“Yes,” came your instant reply.

The sight of you was something that couldn’t even be found on the internet. You were so pure and so rare, and all his.

You were too smart for your own good, yet he could easily get you all dumb for him and his dick. He can easily get you desperate for him.

“Wait,” he requested, grinding against you when you whined at the word. Your whole body shook as his jeans brushed against your wet and sensitive core, and it was almost enough to have you push him away. “See? You’re not ready to get off again. Not yet.”

He leaned in to kiss all over your collarbones and shoulders, one hand reaching down to push up your flimsy top. Your breasts spill free from the thin fabric and he moves further down in order to wrap his lips around your nipple.

“I’ll get you ready,” he promised as he swirled his tongue around the taunt peak, his fingers moving to pinch and pull at your neglected one. “Get you all nice and ready for daddy’s dick.”

“Mm, fuck,” you whined, raking your fingers through his hair and pulling on the light strands. “Leon…Fuck, I love you.”

He grunted against your nipple, pulling away and leaving a strand of salvia behind. “I love you so much more, baby. My pretty girl,” he leaned back on his knees, draping your thighs over his as he slowly rocked his hips into yours. You looked so fucked out already, with your tits on full display, your thighs coated in your own release, and your lips swollen and wet. Leon had never seen a prettier sight.

The front of his jeans quickly began to sport a damp spot from the way he rubbed against your dripping core, and he never wanted to wash them. He could live happily forever while just being covered in your sweet scent.

You whimpered as you played with your nipples, the slow grind of his hips beginning to work you up again. Your quiet gasps and moans were music to his ears, and Leon was prepared to take tomorrow off just so he can spend the whole day eliciting more sounds from you.

The cool metal of his zipper against your heated clit had your eyes rolling back, your chest lifting up and causing your notes to become wrinkled under you. “Daddy,” you whispered, grinding up against him. He stilled his hips and let you rub against him, his eyes following the lift and drag of your core against his painfully hard dick through his jeans.

“There you go,” he rasped, gripping your waist and giving you a sharp thrust. You moan loudly, bucking against him desperately. “You sound so sweet, baby. So good for me.”

“Please,” you whisper.

He pulls away and watches as your core drips with arousal, sliding down your folds and wetting your anatomy notes without a care in the world. He wanted to lick it up so badly, but refrained from doing so when he felt your gentle tugs on his shirt.

Leon reached behind him and pulled off the tight fabric from his chest, tossing it aside to join your damp panties.

You bite your lip and sit up, pulling off your own shirt and throwing it to the side as well. The sound of pages crumpling fills the room as you move to copy his knelt stance, your body much smaller than his and making you have to tilt your head to be able to look up at him.

Leon reaches down and grazes your cheek with his knuckles. “What do you want, baby?”

You hum, kissing his wrist before moving up to kiss his lips. Your arms wrap around his shoulders as he deepens the kiss, his hands sliding up to tangle in your hair as his tongue explore your strawberry tasting mouth. “I wanna make you feel good, daddy,” you murmur when you pull away.

Placing open mouthed kisses down his chest, you pause at the waistband of his jeans. You glance up at him as your fingers make work of unzipping them after pulling his belt off.

“Let me go down on you, daddy,” you offered, pushing down his black boxer briefs and freeing him. “Let me suck you off.”

Leon groaned and tightened his grip on your hair. “You don’t have to ask, princess,” he reminded you. “You know I won’t ever pass up one of your blowjobs.”

You grinned, gripping him tightly. “I know,” you say before wrapping your lips around him. Starting off with his tip, you run your tongue along his head before slowly taking more of him. You hollow your cheeks and take him until your nose is pressed to his pelvis bone and he is hitting the back of your throat.

You move so you’re lying flat on your front, your hips pressed to the floor and your juices still dripping onto your homework pages.

Leon groaned loudly, gathering your hair into a ponytail as you began to suck him off. “God, baby, you’re going to need to ask for a new page for your homework assignment,” he announced. “You’re soaking the one you have now.”

You moan around him, your eyes nearly rolling back when you feel your clit throb at his words. You clench helplessly around nothing at all, your walls pulsating with every sound that leaves his sinful lips.

“It’s all for you,” you tell him, stroking his wet shaft with your hand as you lean forward to kiss along his abs. His body was insane and you were sure you could spend the rest of your life exploring it and never get bored of the way it felt against your hands.

He worked out so often, his body had no choice but to tighten up in all the right places. “I know it is, sweet girl,” he mumbled. “All mine, aren’t you? Mine to take whenever I want.”

You moan embarrassingly loud at his possessive words, feeling more wetness drip from your folds. “I’m so wet, daddy,” you gasp, licking his tip once more. “I missed you so much.”

“I know, baby,” he cooed, tugging on your lip with the thumb of his freehand. “I’m sorry I haven’t been around much. I missed you, too. You need me to fuck you now, sweet girl?”

You hum, pulling off him again and stroking him with both hands. “I need it so badly,”

Leon hummed in agreement. “Lay back, princess,” he instructed quietly. You oblige right away, sitting up only to lay on your back a few seconds later.

“Are you going to breed me, daddy? Get me all knocked up?” You tease, knowing how badly he wanted to see you round with his baby. Being with you had unlocked so many kinks, Leon hadn’t even heard of some of them, but he knew he definitely had them.

Leon cursed under his breath as he pulled his jeans off completely and threw them to the side. “I’m going to fuck you so good, baby,” he promised, staying in his knelt position and grabbing your thighs. He spread your legs and exposed your awaiting core, all ready and his for the taking. “Show all those college boys how badly you wanted me to knock you up.”

You moan loudly, propping yourself up on your elbows so you can watch him coat his salvia covered dick in your wetness before easily sliding in you. Your head falls back and your chest pushes up, your nipples hard and straining against the cool air in the room. “Fuck,”

“That’s my girl,” he grunted once he was fully buried in you. “So fucking tight.”

“Daddy,” you whine, watching as he began to slowly fuck into you. “You stretch me so good.”

Leon grunted in reply. “You were made for me, princess,” he says, draping your thighs over his again and rocking his hips into yours. “Mine from the very beginning.”

“Fuck, Leon,” you moan, the slick sound of your walls taking every inch of him filling the room. “I need you, daddy. Please.”

“How do you need it, baby?” He asked, running his hands up and down your thighs.

“Hard,” you answer, and that was all he needed. He gripped your waist tightly and began fucking into you fast and steady, making your whole body jolt and shake with each thrust. “Oh, fuck. Fuck.”

Your head falls back and you lay down again, reaching down to grab onto his wrists. “Like this?” He mocked under his breath, eyeing the way your tits bounced with every move he made.

“Yes,” you moan. “Fuck yes, daddy, just like that.”

“Good girl,” he praised, adoring how responsive you always are to him. “I’ll fuck you nice and hard, like you deserve.”

You whimper and he reaches one hand up to fondle one of your breasts, his thumb and index finger pinching your already hard nipple. Your whole body shakes a bit as he uses his other thumb to rub harsh circles onto your clit.

It was probably too much too fast, but he knew you could take it.

You were his sweet, cock-hungry girl, of course you could take it.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you lay back and push away various papers, not caring about their well-being at all as you shove them away from you.

You should have more self control. You should be studying right now and watching your dumb reality TV show, but here you are instead, splayed out and taking him so well like you always did.

You couldn’t help it. Leon was so effortlessly attractive and he got you going without even trying.

You missed this physical contact with him for weeks, and you weren’t about to pass up the opportunity to get off with him.

“Feel good, baby?” He asked, drilling into you without showing any signs of stopping. “Feel full?”

“Yes,” you respond not even a second later. “Feels so good, Leon.”

He grunted, removing his hand from your chest and sliding it upwards until his fingers were gently pressing against the base of your throat.

At the slight blocking of your airway, your eyes light up and you grin at him. “Yes,” you moan again, wrapping your nimble fingers around his wrist.

Leon stared down at the sight below him, his lips parting a bit as he groaned loudly. “My dirty girl, huh? Letting me do whatever I want to you. Letting me fuck you raw,” he mutters, more so to himself. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you want me to knock you up.”

You moan in response, clenching tightly around him. “Leon,”

“Yeah,” he huffed, tightening his fingers around your throat. “You want me to fuck a baby into you, don’t you? Get you all nice and pregnant?”

You both knew that he wanted that, and you did, too, but later down the road. Maybe after you graduate college.

Leon understood that and is more than supportive of it, so he settled on fantasizing about it instead.

It was just so hard to not imagine a future where you and he start a family of your own. He couldn’t wait.

“I want it, daddy,” you whimper, feeding into his kink. “Wanna make you feel good.”

“You do make me feel good, sweet girl,” he murmured, gripping your hips in both hands as he fucked into you hard. “You make me feel so good, wrapped around me so tightly, taking me like the good girl you are. You’re so good to me, baby.”

Your eyes roll back as you blindly reach for him. Pulling him down on top of you, your legs wrap around his waist when he moves so he’s hovering over you.

Raking your nails down his back, you hear him inhale sharply next to your ear. “There you go,” he muttered. “Scratch me up, princess. I want it.”

You oblige and dig your nails a little deeper, not hard enough to break the skin, but enough to leave angry red trails indented on his back. “Leon,” you gasp as you clamp down tightly around him. “Please, make me come again. I need it.”

“Come, baby,” he requested. “All over me. I want you to make it so fucking messy.”

He leaned down and gently sunk his teeth into the skin of your shoulder. His tongue soothed the small sting and your body pulsated a bit as you felt your second orgasm rip through you. “Fuck, Leon, fuck fuck,”

Your walls sucked him in impossibly deeper and each thrust of his hips was noisier than the last. The faint squelch was barely heard over your loud cries as you came harder than before, your nails digging into his shoulders.

“Fuck yeah,” he grunted as he felt your warmth flood around him. “Good girl.”

His words set butterflies loose in your body and you cling onto him with every ounce of energy you have left. “Daddy,” you whispered, your core begging for a break but also begging for him to fill you up. “Come, please…inside me.”

Leon lets out a throaty groan as he fucked into you a few more times before stilling. He comes deep within your soaked walls, painting your core white as he fills you up to the brim. “Fuck, baby,” he rasps, pulling out slightly then slipping back inside you again.

He wanted to make sure his seed reached as deep as it could go in you, even if there was no way you could actually get pregnant right now since you’re on the pill.

You whine a bit when he pulls out completely, replacing his dick with his fingers as he pushes his come back inside you. “Where it belongs,” he mumbles as he leans down to press a kiss to your abused core.

You shudder a bit as he moves back up your body and wraps you in his arms. Relaxing against his chest, you let out uneven breaths as you feel his seed run down your folds and seep into your lecture notes. “Thank you,” you whisper, leaning up to press a kiss to his jaw. “I really did miss you so much, Leon.”

He kisses your forehead and tightens his hold on you a bit. “I missed you, too, sweet girl,” he replied, knowing both you and he would probably wake up tomorrow with rug burn marks on your bodies. “I’m sorry for not being here very much. I promise it’ll only be a couple more weeks and then I’ll be given a break.”

“It’s okay,” you smile, giving him another kiss. “You made up for it tonight.”

Kind of don’t like this at all, so be gentle and lie to me if you hate it, too x

701 notes View Post

fouyumixuri

1 year ago

professor!re4r leon fucking u.. i think (or at least wanting to fuck u)

cw content : leon size kink kennedy (jk) | sub-afab-fem-reader and dom!leon kennedy | age gap(ur 19-20 he's 27), leon masturbating, penetration, slightly weird ooc leon:( ♡

[to clarify, i am a minor (17). anyone <17 and anyone >17 uncomfortable with interacting pls dni]

authors note bc i love rambling; btw i'm writing this in public at some boba cafe can u believe that lol im literally supposed to be studying but hwatever fuck it leon make me go blaahhhhhh. btw what do i call this? a fic?blurb?drabble? idklmfao by the way i have NO idea on how to write professor x reader shit so im sorrhy if this sucks ass.

synopsis : conflicted and flustered professor!leon kennedy of your local college struggles to improve his class' average because students like you—incompetent, airheaded, spoiled and klutzy— make it difficult for him :(

‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵

you heard the rustling of laptop bags and stationery as leon's students left for that morning lecture. though, they moved slow and drowsy; for leon is sure nowadays this generation can't afford to wake up at 6:00 in the morning to prepare for a 7 a.m. lecture on "deviance and crime control."

especially you.

kennedy is a sharp man. he harps on students even if they get a B on any assignment, but he swears it's on his tough love (to which a lot of students aren't really aware of, just that they know this stoic pretty-face of a man has high standards.)

he is also keen on attendance. something girls like you seem to take lightly. it was absurd, really. most professors don't give a shit, do they?

it would've been fine with leon if you missed lectures even twice a week as long as you emphasized your understanding of his lessons through putting stellar effort on your schoolwork. but the best you've gotten on his class was a B- drawing close to a C+.

so, he needs to have a chat with you. urgently.

"l/n, i need to speak with you." leon spoke, confrontative as his black jeans peered from your right peripheral vision. he stood tall beside the edge of the table where you sat. jesus, was he trying to give you a heart attack? (he always had this habit, he'd just pop out of nowhere. he has silent feet.)

yes, you may have missed his lectures from monday to thursday to go to macedonia with your family: but if leon were given the opportunity for a vacation he would snag it too, right?

you looked up at the young professor, wide-eyed and a bit intimidated. what the hell did you do this time? you closed your laptop, gave leon your full attention. leon has also noticed this about you; you're quick to pay attention but you have the memory span of a dumb rabbit. maybe even the IQ of one too, if leon was rude enough.

so you sat there, hands on your lap as you fiddled with the pleats of your blue plaid skirt. the color makes his heart beat a little—he loves the color blue. and the way it looked on you... wait, no. what the hell was he thinking?

"you couldn't even spare the few minutes to e-mail me that you'd be missing four- four, of my classes in one week." he emphasized with a slate tone, and the way his eyes peered down at you added that he needed your reasoning of the situation. he'd love to hear what you had to say for yourself. "i had to talk to your friend, ashley, for some clarification. even the president's daughter has the dignity to show up to my class with a verbal apology." leon scolded as his fingertips met the pages of your notebook. did you even care about his classes? :(

much to your chagrin, your lips were pressed in sheepish silence. hopeless, even. you didn't even have anything to say for yourself? how pitiable.

you simply can't miss class, that wasn't right! just because you thought you could hide in the shadows amidst leon's collective of 73 students (yes he counts), you aren't out of his eyes. in fact, you stood out to him even if you were just an incompetent scholar.

he sighed at your silence. "fair enough, an apology can't compensate for your lack of presence or decorum." he then placed your paper on the desk, you had gotten a D. you were never a bad student but this was your first D ever! your eyes widened and he caught on even though he could only see the crown of your hair. "surprised? because i'm not." leon uttered flatly while his pale fingers flipped through the papers right in front of you. you even spotted a few contractions— when did you even pass this?!

but you weren't a bad girl to him, no. you were capable of shame and guilt. you looked sideways, unable to meet his eyes and training your vision to the floor. you felt low, disappointing a professor that gave you numerous chances to break out of your awkward shell.

"you're a smart girl, you know that?" he finally sighed softly. he wanted you to look at him, make him another promise that you'll start putting effort in his class. he needed to maintain his class's average or else he'd prove he was an inept professor, and he can't do that when he lets 'students like you' get away with shabby attendance and subpar schoolwork. "i don't just give students chances. but that doesn't make you special." and it was true—he's voluntarily failed 6 of his students before. "you'll do something about this, right?"

"yes, professor kennedy.." you muttered modestly.

"hmm?" he hummed inquisitively as he took your paper back. he was willing to give you a chance. "listen to me. i'll give you the chance to redo your paper. i know when students rush their work and if i see even a hint of redundancy in it—i will take all my chances back. and you are never taking absences from my class. i don't want you entering even a minute late, or leaving a second early. i hope we're clear, l/n."

naturally, you were scared. so you nodded up at him after countless confirmations that you will do you work and that you'll show up to class no matter what. he has to use your word against you, he's sorry but it's for your own good.

once he was satisfied, he gave you a nod and turned his side, dismissing you. after all, leon was a busy man. you're not his only student.

it was when you walked out the building and then 20 minutes away from it that you felt like crying. you hated being scolded by him :( but just when you were about to go through your bag for your handkerchief, you were stuck with an inconvenient realization. you forgot your handkerchief.

‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ -♡- ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵

leon just stared at the table where you sat from just now, backpack strap over his shoulders since he was just about to leave. he gripped onto either of them slowly as he stared down at your handkerchief in contemplation.

a twofold baby-blue hankie embedded with a subtle floral print. tentatively, he picks it up with his hand and examines it. for a minute his mind went blank, conflicting between chasing you and just returning it to you or to leave it by the lecture podium for her to retrieve tomorrow (when you hopefully attend his lesson again.)

..but blue was his favorite color.

"damn it." leon, with a barely audible mutter, shoved the handkerchief in his jacket pocket. he felt like the most guilty man in the world, poor boy.

...

leon sighed.

he wasn't celibate.

his hormones were in shambles once he got to his place. perhaps part of it was because he knew he hasn't graded the recent tests yet.

manspreading, tie loose, shirt stuffy and jeans undone while his hair wisped in slightly disheveled directions. cold breaths followed out his pretty mouth.

"nnn..fuck.. uhh-" leon whimpered into the baby blue cloth, laced with your perfume. he felt so guilty, so perverted. he shuddered every time he could see over the edges of the cloth, seeing his cream-leaking tip from previous orgasms spurt teasingly. "ahh- fuuuck, p-please-"

his grunts were high. he was close to crying, staining your pretty handkerchief with guilty-pleasure-ridden tears. spilled milk, it trailed down his pretty shaft as he pumped it over and over. his motive was you— you were just so fucking stupid and had so much naivete, it absolutely vexed him knowing how endearing you were.

until a slip of leon's mouth surprised him, earning a small squeak from him as he accidentally muffled your name in your cloth. "fuck, y/n- a-ahh.. u-uhh..hmfff.." he was frustrated; whining and cumming while his mind stirred with the thought of you and your pretty eyes and the photographic memory of your dumbstricken face.

he gave out a tired whine into the cloth, so, so close to crying his frustrations out. he just wanted to eat you. christ, and he was so hard for you it made his head ache..

he could only watch his girth that pulsed with white. he pried the sweet handkerchief off his lips, breathing roughly and wiping his tears. he felt so, so sorry for you. the color of the cloth looked exactly like the skirt you wore yesterday. and yet to top it off, he (ashamedly) wiped his cum off with your dainty cloth. oh, he's so sorry..

‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ -♡- ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵

he didn't want to come to this point. or maybe he did and god was force-feeding him with culpability (he's atheist). he offered once to tutor you personally. one-on-one, no distractions. and so suddenly, someone's skirt was on his clean carpet floor..

your blouse draped over your shoulder and was pulled above your bra carelessly. he handled you with so much ease, squishing you into position while he tried to slowly push his thick length into your syrupy hole. you bit the knuckle of your thumb, and whimpered timidly that he was too big. but look where you were now.

"fuck- you're so- you feel so good.. shut up and take it all, yeah?.. hmmff-" there leon goes, harping you again. you were so loud but it wasn't even your fault, not when he was pistoning his cock into you and paying no hesitation to his pace. you were simply too sweet for him not to please. "sweetheart, hold onto me.." he mutters.

he was pushing every squeak and cute little wail out of his pathetic student, rutting his tip into that spot. "n-nnghh- aah!~" you were running low on words.

"yeah?- mhmm...ffuck, right here? huh?" the feeling of him thrusting against that spongy part more and more sent your mind further into autopilot. you were past squirming around and pushing him away, you just had to take it.. and take it.. and you were doing so good ♡.

"l-leoonn.. m-mm!- fffeels t-too good-" you babbled, mind stuffy with the pleasurably-shameful feeling of being gorged with your professor's thick girth. he shuddered at the way you uttered his name so adoringly. to leon you were so dirty but so, so cute. he had you puddled into tears beneath him while he fucked into your cute little hole with fervor. he just wanted to stuff you full, make you his, adore you forever.

he whined softly into your shoulder. you kept clenching down on him and it made him impossible to think. his phone was ringing on his bedside but he doesn't even give a shit—if anything he tried to drown it out by thrusting into you faster, to which made him lament into your skin. he even adjusted your hips up impossibly further.

"l-leeonn, n-no..— n-no more, please!!-" you blabbered adorably, voice mumbly and whiny as you clawed at his shoulders or back— you didn't know anymore.

"shhh shh.." he cooed over your cries with a quiet and honeyed voice, planting a soft kiss to where he could reach on your face or head. "i know, i know, it feels so good, hm?.. just let it feel good, baby—ahh, fuck-.. uhh..." he moaned lowly into your shoulder, unable to stop the way he rutted his cock into your creamed-up cunt. you seemed to be enjoying it, so why were you complaining? leon thinks to himself smugly but he knows he can't act on his pride. after all you made him like this—submitting to his carnal urges...

you didn't wanna cum a third time, huh? silly little girl.

leon growled quietly into the crook where your neck and shoulder met. you've never heard that sound from him. he held you down, constraining you, and squished you further into his mattress. a helpless and surprised yelp lolled out your tongue as he went impossibly quicker while he cursed like he was about to break down in tears. leon was mercilessly grinding his cock into all your sensitive spots, not letting your pleas of retort contest him. "fuckfuck- u-uhhh, take it, baby, c'mon... do it f'me, it's gonna feel so good-.. ahh!-"

he couldn't even finish his sentence—just piping his cum in you roughly as if he were proving a point, growling whinily along the way. he even kept fucking you shallowly while you were a dumb, sniffling mess with no sense of self-assertion as you creamed all over his shaft uncontrollably a third time. consecutive and quiet whimpers could be heard from you while you soaked in your overstimulation, needing him desperately to reassure you again through the overbearing pleasure of being pushed past what your cunny can handle.

"poor baby." he muttered to himself breathily as he gave the last of his tired, frustrated thrusts and pulled out of you; giving you the time to breathe while he pats your hair down comfortingly. his fluttering eyes finally closed as his head found refuge in your neck, slightly limp with exhaustion as he huffed cold breaths on the wet patches of your skin.

he pulled his head away after a minute of regaining what's left of his strength. leon looked down at you with subtle puppylike eyes, like he was sorry for ever being so harsh on you; even before he fucked the shit out of you. you quietly took your handkerchief to wipe some sweat off his neck— and his cheeks went a little rosy, remembering what he did to it that day you "lost" it ♡.

seems detergent can't wash something like lust away!

Trophy Father's Trophy Son

Summary: Six years after Leon left you for Raccoon City, he shows up on your doorstep. In his sudden appearance, he learns of yet another reason why he never should’ve left that day.

Pairing: Leon Kennedy x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.7 K Words

Warnings: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, mentions of death, mentions of depression/burnout, swearing, mentions of trauma

Tags: RE4/DI Leon, Dad!Leon, happy-ending, Leon breaks down, but he also gets his happy-ending, not proofread!

A/N: I am finally back! I never want to experience another hurricane again :) anyways, this was another request. I put a bit of a spin on it, so I hope you guys enjoy it. Thank you all for supporting my work once again! <3<3<3! Song title from "Trophy Father's Trophy Son" by Sleeping With Sirens.

Six years. Six long, miserable years that seemed never-ending. Caught in a loop of trauma and loss, never once finding an ounce of peace, Leon wondered if he’d ever found a way to cope with what happened on September 28, 1998. He lived his life like a machine, oiling just enough to wake up in the morning before he’d eventually crash and break down at night.

Six fucking years of living a life not for himself, keeping himself alive just to play the good agent. The best agent, willingly seated at the President’s beck and call, constantly wondering what would happen if he decided to swap out his usual, “Yes, sir” for one giant, “Fuck you.” Would they reprimand him, consider his work too valuable to do anything less than a mark on his record? Or would they bite the bullet and put on right through his skull, like he’d done to the countless innocents infected by corporations that lined the thick pockets of government officials and campaigners?

Leon didn’t know anymore. Hell, did he ever really know anything in the first place, considering his memory always loved to backtrack just 24-hours before he would no longer consider himself a man.

September 27, 1998.

The day he walked away from you, watching you cling to the post of your family’s front porch, wailing in the rain as you begged him not to go. He could still remember the gut-wrenching feeling of getting in his car, sitting stiff in the driver’s seat as he tried to make up his mind on whether or not to leave you behind for Raccoon City. He’d been so excited to get the assignment, raving on for weeks about how he wanted to get the chance to investigate the Arklay Mountain murders.

He’d barely graduated from the Police Academy back then, coming home to you with a much more muscular physique and a ‘good boy’ attitude. He’d matured more than you could’ve imagined in just a few months, and that included his view on your relationship. Leon would’ve dropped to one knee back then in an instant, if he thought you’d say yes. Which is what he thought you were going to say when he asked you if you were going to move with him.

The breakup was inevitably coming, that much he knew by the way you faltered over your words and looked away from him. You were in your last year of college, and the university nearby didn’t offer a program for your major.

The guilt on your face when you’d declined still hurt him to this day, six years later as he sat beside Ashley Graham on the plane back home to the U.S. This last mission in Spain stirred up more emotions from the past than he was comfortable with. Seeing Ada again, the woman he’d tried to let distract him from his heartbreak only to end up hurt again when he thought she’d fallen to her death, brought him right back to that unlucky night. Learning Krauser, the man whose rigorous training had nearly killed Leon and given him a sense of purpose, had abandoned his morals and joined the enemy made him seriously wonder if the life he led would ever have its upturn.

Watching Luis die, a man whose last minute efforts to be the good guy ended with a knife to his back, was what Leon considered to be the last straw. He couldn’t go on like this anymore. His life would not be reduced to following a “democracy” truly fueled by those who held the most cash in their pockets, not the people that resided within its borders.

And for the first time in six years, the second he stepped off the plane and dealt with the hours-long debriefings and mandatory quarantine, he allowed himself to revisit the past. He hadn’t even gotten a full night’s rest before he sat at his kitchen table, fingers hovering over the keyboard as he wondered if this truly was the best idea.

He wasn’t the same man that you remembered, the bright-eyed rookie long gone and leaving behind an emotionless husk held together by more glasses of whiskey than truly necessary. A workaholic, bordering on alcoholic, that refused to admit to himself or those around him that he was not okay.

“Here goes nothing,” Leon huffed beneath his breath, brushing the blonde fringe from his eyes with a shaky hand. He opened up the civilian record system he wasn’t necessarily granted access to, having called in a personal favor with Hunnigan. Slowly typing in your first and last name, he scrolled through countless hits before he found you.

You’d never left Boston judging by your driver’s license and voting records. You’d switched addresses a few times, having recently just moved to a better part of town within the last six months. He felt a twinge in his chest, the feeling unfamiliar to him, as he searched for anything that would cause his search to halt. Marriage licenses or divorce decrees were absent from your record, bringing a sigh of relief from his lips.

Leon only let himself briefly glance at your tax returns to gauge your occupation before the guilt of diving too deep into his ex-girlfriend’s sensitive information began to make him feel nauseous. He clicked out of the program, shutting his laptop before he eventually decided to finally get some sleep. USSTRATCOM had so generously granted him a few days off after too many near-death experiences for one mission.

He spent the first thirteen hours of his time off dead asleep, sleeping so deeply he didn’t even dream. And when he woke up, he booked the first flight to Boston. With only an overnight bag and your address scribbled on a sticky note, he made his way “home” for the first time since he’d left.

And now, Leon sat in a rental car parked in front of the brownstone townhome, fingers drumming against the steering wheel as the minutes dragged on. He’d been sitting here for an hour, glancing back and forth from the bustling road to your front doorstep. What would I even say to her, he thought to himself as he leaned back in the driver’s seat, frown forming on his face.

It wasn’t like he could exactly waltz up to the door, knock and say, “Hey, sorry I’ve been AWOL for six years. The government enslaved me, but I miss you and I want you back.”

No, that wouldn’t blow over well.

So now, he was left empty-minded and utterly petrified of your reaction. He wondered if maybe there was another man in your life, now. Or, if you had long closed the chapter of your life that included him and left the book on an old, dusty shelf in your mind never to be read again. Leon prayed, something he never did, that you’d find it in your heart to reread the story you used to love just one more time as he got out of the car.

Slowly, he made his way up the concrete mat and onto the doorstep, taking in the painted door and double deadlocks. Smart girl, he mused internally before he took a shuddering breath. For a second, he thought about abandoning ship. You would never know if he just turned around right now and walked away, giving up all hope that he’d once again find happiness. It would be so easy.

No, I need this. I need her.

Leon knocked a few times before he took a step back, shoving his hands deep in the pocket of his windbreaker. He didn’t trust himself to wear another leather jacket, considering the one he’d worn and lost in Spain cost more than he was comfortable spending again.

“Coming!” Your voice rang out from just behind the door, making his stomach twist and turn into knots. You sounded the same as you had when he’d known you, and it only made the nerves twisting in his stomach all the worse.

He briefly glanced at the potted plant beside the door, making a mental note of it in case he lost the minimal lunch he’d eaten thanks to his nerves. His blue eyes, a duller blue than past versions of himself, flitted right back to the door when he heard the locks click. All the air in his lungs swept away with the afternoon breeze when it swung open, and your head popped out.

The smile on your face stayed for only a few seconds before it dropped, leaving behind an expression he could only describe as utterly shocked. You blinked slowly, like you were trying to believe your own eyes as you opened the door slowly to reveal your full figure.

You were the same height you’d been at twenty, but your curves were more prominent. You looked soft around the edges, just like he’d come to like over the years. And if anything, you were just as beautiful, if not more, than you were the day he’d left you and what remained of himself behind.

“Leon?”

Asking hesitantly, your words sounded airless and no louder than a hushed whisper. You looked him over from head-to-toe, making the seasoned agent squirm just a bit under your gaze. He’d been through bootcamp and bio-terroristic attacks, for fuck’s sake, yet the way you looked at him like you’d just seen a ghost made him feel like breaking.

Leon licked his lips, looking down at his boots against the pavement as he tried to think of the best greeting possible. Something to ease you into his presence and not get himself kicked off your front porch. He settled on a simple, “Uh, hi.”

You stepped out onto the porch, barefoot and in “lazy day” clothes as you looked up at him. You frowned, and he watched your eyes flit around his face. He could feel your gaze burn on the few beauty marks and moles he had, like you were checking their authenticity.

“You’re.. God, I-” you stopped yourself, taking a deep breath. Leon could see the reels turning in your mind as you took a step closer, holding your hands out in front of you. You reached out, hesitating for a moment before you touched his arm. “You’re.. Alive?”

That threw him for a loop, eyebrows furrowing as he looked down and felt your soft hands brush over the slick fabric of his windbreaker. He could feel your fingers, as warm as he remembered, press into him. “I, uh, yeah?” He let out an awkward chuckle, clearly not having expected this kind of reaction.

Your frown deepened, causing him to mirror your expression as you tried to find your words. You stammered a bit, stringing words of surprise together before you could finally form a coherent sentence. “I saw the news,” you started, swallowing harshly. “That they’d bombed Raccoon City.. I thought.. I thought you were dead.”

Oh.

It made sense to him, now. The government had painted quite a perfect lie, sorrowfully reporting there were no survivors of the incident that flattened an entire US city in a matter of seconds. Of course, you would think he was dead. It was only natural.

“That’s a difficult story to explain,” he murmured, fingers fidgeting inside his pockets before he pulled his hands out. He’d made it this far, so far, it was too early to throw in the towel. “I can try to explain, uh. Can I come in?” Leon gestured to the open door behind you.

You winced a bit, face twisting into a look of discomfort as you sighed. “I don’t think that’s the best idea-”

“Mommy?”

A soft voice sounding from behind you snapped both Leon’s attention and yours back to the open door. He couldn’t see its owner until you quickly turned around, and the sight before him caused his heart to fall flat right out of his chest and onto the floor.

A little boy, probably elementary school aged, peered curiously up at you then around you. He looked at Leon, child-like bewilderment evident as he rocked back and forth on the door ledge. He looked just like you, mixed with someone else also standing on this porch.

“Scotty, baby,” you started, your back to Leon but unease clearly evident in your voice as you bent down to eye-level with the little baby. “I told you to stay inside, didn’t I?”

“You left the door open,” Scotty giggled, like he found the situation to be funny as he looked around you again. “Who is that?”

Leon swallowed as a small finger pointed right at him, shock and other emotions tormenting deep inside his chest. Of course, she has a kid, he internally cringed. If only he’d scrolled through your tax return just a bit more, he would’ve seen that you claimed a dependent and not found himself in this situation. He didn’t speak, only looking away from the boy and back to you.

“This is one of mommy’s friends from work,” you lied perfectly through your teeth, ushering the boy back inside. “Now, go on. I’ll be back inside in a minute.” You shut the door behind your son once he reluctantly disappeared inside, your shoulders slumped. Turning back towards Leon, it was clear that you were bracing for the incoming questions.

If the fact that the little boy had a few traits just like Leon didn’t tip him off, the name definitely would click something in the depths of his mind. His heart hammered in his chest as he looked back at you, and he could only ask one thing: “How old is he?”

You sighed through your nose, wrapping your arms around your midsection as you stared at the ground. “He turned six in June.”

June, Leon thought. He counted back on his fingers, mumbling out the months until he got to the ninth one. September. His trip down memory lane had turned into yet another day he could put on the calendar as “life-changing”.

I have a son.

The thought was fleeting, but it shook every inch of Leon’s core as he stood before you, frozen in time. Sure, at twenty-one he really hadn’t been the most responsible about “family planning” or even bothering to reach for a condom when the box was right on his nightstand, but he never would’ve thought that this would happen.

And then the soul-crushing guilt came crumbling down on him. He’d left you for Raccoon City. When you were pregnant. With his child.

“When did you find out?” His voice cracked when he asked the question, blue eyes stinging with the threat of a substance that hadn’t rolled down his face in what felt like years: tears.

You bit your lip, looking back up from the ground and into his eyes. The apologetic look on your face only made him sniffle, confirming that Scotty was indeed his. “Two days after you left,” you whispered.

“Why didn’t you try to find me?” Leon’s voice now sounded hurt. If only he’d known just two days earlier, he never would’ve left. Hell, his life may have turned out somewhat decent instead of the clusterfuck it currently was. Maybe, he’d still be a cop. “File for child support, something?”

“Leon,” you let out exasperatedly. “I thought you were dead. I spent the entire nine months mourning you and trying to figure out what to tell him when he grew up and asked where his father was.”

Leon ran a hand over his face, looking up at the sky as he tried to will the tears not to fall past his lashes. He couldn’t cry now, because if he did, he’d never stop. “I never should’ve left,” he whispered, taking a deep, controlled breath to try and get a grip on his emotions. “I should’ve just stayed there, with you.”

You frowned and took a step towards him again, placing your hand on his arm in an attempt to comfort. “You can’t blame yourself,” you tried your best to give him some sort of ease. “You didn’t know. I didn’t know. That isn’t your fault.”

Leon swallowed hard, finally looking back down at you. This time, he couldn’t stop himself from letting a few hot tears roll down his face. “I can’t even tell you what I went through,” he choked out. “And all this time, all these years, I had a kid? I had a family that thought I was dead?”

When he started to tremble, it felt like a thousand needles had driven through your heart. Clearly, in your time apart, something had broken Leon. You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him into an embrace as you rubbed his back. “Hey, hey,” you whispered against his chest. “Shh, it’s okay.”

His grip around you could be considered crushing as his forearms dug into your ribs, pulling you into him with all of his strength. You could feel his tears staining your shirt as he buried his face in your neck, hiding himself as he displayed his emotions for the world to see.

“I have a son,” Leon choked out through his shuddering but soft sobs, words muffled by your skin. The pain cut deep through him, torturing him as he realized he’d missed six years of his child’s life. For all he knew at this moment, Scotty had grown up believing that his father was dead. Whether or not you’d told him the “truth”, the damage had already been done.

“We have a son,” you corrected him softly, pressing a kiss to the side of his head as you held him in your arms. You didn’t know what to feel at that moment. The man you loved had suddenly reappeared, cheating death in your mind and abruptly entering your life. And before you could carefully tell him, the truth had been revealed.

“You can meet him,” you started, still speaking in a soft, soothing tone as your lips pressed against the shell of Leon’s ear. “You just can’t tell him who you are, right now. We’ll figure it out as we go, okay?”

He nodded against you, sniffling as he tried to reel himself back in. This was not how he’d expected this trip to go. But maybe, there was some light at the end of Leon’s tunnel, after all.

“Shit, fuck, shit,” Leon grunted as he limped down the corridor of the airport, feeling every ounce of pain radiating all over his body. Not even seven hours after having gotten the tar beat out of him by Maria Gomez, and getting infected with the T-virus just to be vaccinated not long after, his body definitely wanted to give out on him right now.

But, he didn’t have time to lay out on the floor and give his aching muscles a rest. He was already late, thanks to an unwanted delay in flight plans, and he had a forty-five minute drive to his destination. The event started in thirty minutes.

The man didn’t bother to change out of his mission gear, instead abandoning his tactical vest and holsters in the backseat of his Jeep after he’d gotten his luggage. His beloved and dearly departed Ducati’s keys laid abandoned as well, a sore reminder of his short time in San Francisco. Leon sped out of the airport parking lot, taking off for the suburbs of D.C. with one thing on his mind.

He didn’t even bother to tell you that he’d landed, instead doing as best as he could to get there on time. He owed it to you, and to Scotty, to at least show up for this.

After getting caught in a roadblock, Leon did something he never thought he’d do. He’d flashed his DSO badge to the officer, mumbling something about “official business” that would definitely make his way back to his supervisor, considering he’d gotten out of a ticket for going 60 in a 45. But right now, he didn’t care.

He finally pulled into the parking lot of the high school, circling around three times before he found a parking spot. He almost forgot to lock the Jeep as he rushed inside, making his way towards the gymnasium. They’d just cut off the lights, making it a lot harder to find you in the bleachers until he saw you waving your arms.

“Excuse me, sorry, excuse me, just gonna scooch past you real quick,” he spouted off to every person he cut in front of, inching his way down the row of plastic benches until he got next to you. Leon sat down with a huff once you’d moved your purse from the spot you’d saved him, resting his hands on his knees. “Did I miss anything?”

“Nothing important,” your daughter, Bella, huffed as she scrolled through the phone she was always glued to. “Nothing but boring speeches so far.”

Leon reached out, yanking it from her hands and tucking it into his back pocket. He held a hand up when she tried to protest. “Ah,” he interrupted. “Pay attention. If I can make it, you can get off your phone for twenty minutes.”

You laughed softly as she scowled and looked back towards the stage. Leaning against your husband, you interlaced your fingers with his. “How’d it go?”

“Awful,” Leon grumbled, rubbing his shoulder with his free hand. “Don’t be surprised if I’m purple under my clothes.”

Before you could reply, the principal took her place on stage again and announced the start of the senior class. After reading off names, she finally got to the K’s. You and Leon both leaned forward in your seats, eyes glued to the caps and gowns until you saw the head of floppy blonde hair making his way towards the podium.

“Scotty Kennedy,” the woman announced. You could feel Leon squirming beside you, trying to hold in any noise until your son had actually accepted his diploma. “Following in his father’s footsteps, he will be attending the DC Metropolitan Police Academy in the Fall.”

As soon as the diploma touched Scotty’s fingers, Leon leapt up from his seat. Usually not one to draw much attention to himself, this was definitely one of those rare moments he expressed his excitement. Using two fingers to whistle loudly, he cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled out towards the stage.

“That’s my boy!”