LOVE YOU, SANTA!

breeding w di Leon ??????????😩😩

leon x afab!reader

wc: 1.8k

tags: explicitly 18+, breeding obvs, pregnancy mention, reader has breasts

“I’m getting old.” Leon mutters, pausing momentarily to sip at his mug full of coffee that you’d brewed for him a few moments earlier. You raise an eyebrow at this; head turning ever so slightly to meet his gaze. It’s been a few weeks since he’d been on the mission to Alcatraz. There’s been a personality shift that’s come over him in this time—at first, you just chalked it up to self-reflection from a near death experience.

Maybe there’s something else to it.

“You keep saying that,” you note, attention back on the kitchen counter as you prepare breakfast for the both of you. “You’re not.”

“I am. You can’t deny it. And you know, well…” he sighs, setting the mug down. “I’ve been thinking about some things. About us.”

This gets your attention. You turn fully to face him now.

He stands, advancing towards you, trapping you in between his body and the counter behind you. Leon’s lips are on yours nearly immediately—and while you appreciate the gesture and the taste of hazelnut coffee creamer that lingers in his mouth, you’re feeling a bit…

Nervous.

Your nerves quickly shift into a feeling of something else, the sensation of Leon’s hands squeezing on your waist quickening your heartbeat—that familiar aching between your thighs reddening your face at his touch. His eyes are on you as you part, examining the pretty slopes and curves of your face—but your nerves quickly shift back to that feeling of uncertainty.

“I love you,” he starts, hands furthering up your torso. One hand runs over the curve of your stomach, shifting back to the fat of your hip. “And I’ve been thinking about just how good you’d look pregnant.”

Your breath comes out in slight pants at the feeling of his hands tracing over the contour of your body. Leon leans in, placing feather-light kisses over the soft skin of your neck—the feeling of his lips and the prickle of his stubble admittedly making your knees weak. He smells good, like home; like aftershave and cologne from the night before when he’d fallen asleep with his arms around you.

His hands snake up the long shirt that you’re wearing—one of his that you’d fished from his dresser ages ago—traveling from your waist up to cup your breasts. His tongue runs over the shell of your ear, warm breath fanning over the sensitive feel of your skin. You shudder.

“Think about it. Me, you, a family…” Leon’s tone is hushed as he speaks in your ear, thumb toying at the sensitive peaks of your nipple. You feel him smile as he places a kiss on your temple, something you can hardly focus on from the feel of his hand caressing your breasts. “Don’t you want that?”

“I—” Your breath hitches at the feeling of deft fingertips running along the now sodden cotton of your panties, thighs shifting and molding around the shape of his hand between your thighs. “I… yes, of course. I mean, I’ve thought about it, but…”

“But?” He questions, tugging the wet fabric aside enough for his fingers to drag along your sticky folds. Leon’s breath fans on your neck, his cock stiff against the inside of your thigh. It’s thick and hard and throbbing and has your walls clenching around nothing—needy from just the idea of him being inside of you.

“But…” Your voice is low, teetering out pathetically at the feeling of the pad of his thumb toying with your clit. His movements are slow and methodical, circling—almost too much while simultaneously being not enough. “Your job, and…”

The way your bottom lip catches in your teeth makes him want to kiss you—and fill you with his cum—all the more. It’s been plaguing his thoughts ever since Alcatraz.

“We can work that out,” he mumbles, finger hovering around your entrance, collecting the arousal that seeps from you in anticipation. Your nails dig into the muscle of his forearm, head hanging low at the feeling of the digit threatening to breach inside of you. It’s too much. But not enough. “Work’s been slowing down. Doubt that they’d want to keep an old man like me out on the field too long anyway.”

You go to speak—you want to scold him for calling himself old, even though it’s undeniably true—but you’re cut off by the sound of your own whine at the feeling of his finger pushing its way inside of you.

He only goes as far as the first knuckle… but the gasp that falls from your lips coupled with a low moan has him a bit too eager to hear more from you. Leon inserts a second finger, the pad of his thumb pressing a fleeting amount of pressure on the sensitive bud of your clit. He’s patient as he finger-fucks you, scissoring you open with methodical movements that have your knees weak and your face hot.

You’re too busy whining his name to realize the way he’s looking at you.

Too needy to notice the way his cock throbs at the feeling of your wetness around his fingers; too drunk on his touch to see the way that his blue eyes are trained so intently on the sight of his fingers slipping out of you and pushing their way back inside. He slides his fingers out of you, marveling at the strings of sticky arousal that cling to them.

“So,” he pauses momentarily—brings his fingers to his tongue—and wraps his lips around them. “Did I convince you?”

You nod.

It’s not long before you feel the coldness of his fingers—wet from you and from his own mouth—hooking along the lace hem of your underwear to tug them down. The cotton pools at your ankles.

“You’re fucking me on the counter?” The question falls from your lips breathlessly; the feeling of his hand squeezing at the fat of your ass eliciting more noise from you than you’d be willing to admit.

“Sure am,” he mutters, the ghost of a smirk on his lips as he pulls the fabric of his pants down just enough to free his cock. “Don’t worry. We’ll have plenty of time to make up for this. I intend on—“

He hoists you up properly, arm keeping you suspended in the air, eyes on the slick sticky mess that’s littered your thighs. Instinctively, you wrap your legs around his waist. The head of his cock prods at your entrance—leaking precum enough to leave you wondering if he’d left a sticky stain on the cotton of his gray boxers.

“—stuffing you full of cum everyday until I see a positive test.”

Something tells you that he plans to make good on his promise.

He slides into you slowly; the pace agonizing as his cock stretches and splits you open—your walls shaping around his size, nails digging further into the skin of his arm. You shudder at the sound of his voice in your ear; low and needy and whiny for the feeling of the warmth of your walls instinctively gripping around his shaft.

“Leon,” he audibly groans at the sound of his name from your lips—how breathless and pretty and needy you sound for him. “Please, I—“

His fingers leave indents in the skin of your ass, his hips pressing into you so agonizingly slow to the point where you’re beginning to ache from the feeling of needing him so desperately.

“Come on,” Leon buries himself to the hilt—reveling at the feeling of the softness of your body against his. The granite edge of the counter digs at your back; a non-issue considering the fact that you’re struggling to keep your composure at the feeling of Leon balls deep inside of you. “You can take it.”

You nod.

Crescent moon shaped indentations are left on the muscle of his back, red and angry—unnoticed by the feeling of him plunging into you; his hips flush against yours with each slip of his cock inside of you. Sticky strings of arousal begin to line down his thighs—the creamy ring pooling at the base of his cock fueling the pathetic whimpers that slip from your and his lips.

Leon roughly fucks into you, pace unforgiving as your insides uncontrollably quiver and squeeze around him. You pray that no one can hear the both of you through the opened window of your kitchen—the sound of his balls slapping against your skin entirely too loud—coupled with the noisy moans that seep from your lips and the low grunts that seep from his. You can hardly tell the color of his eyes; his pupils blown so wide that you’d mistake them for brown if you weren’t aware they were blue.

He leans forward—hips still snapping against your own—and presses his lips against your own. It’s uncoordinated. It’s needy. It’s wet and sloppy as he struggles to focus on the fact that he’s supposed to be kissing you when you feel so good and tight and wet and warm around him.

He greedily tongues at your lips and greedily ruts into your pussy, movements bordering on feral at the feeling of you and the thought of stuffing you with his cum. The pretty noises that fall from your mouth drive him forward, lips still on your own as he swallows every semblance of a mewl that you make from the feeling of his cock dragging along your walls.

Leon pulls away for a moment—lips reattaching to your neck, trailing to your throat, savoring the taste of your skin. He’s losing himself. Losing himself to the overwhelming urge to put a baby in you; to the idea of your body softening and breasts swelling and hips widening—to the idea of just how perfect you’d look with his kid in you.

You squeal at the feeling of the pad of his thumb on your clit, thighs clenching and trembling and shaking around his waist—nails digging further into the meat of his back as his relentless pace falters and rhythm stutters towards sloppiness. Leon coaxes you further towards your orgasm, motion of his thumbs pulling an orgasm from your swollen, throbbing clit; the pulsating of your walls pulling him deeper into you and effectively milking his cock.

The sight of you—back arching, legs trembling, jaw slack, body spasming—it’s too much. His cock twitches, his hips sputter; his grip on you borders on pain—and you can’t do anything but take it. You feel it before you realize it. You feel the slight quiver of his body against yours. You feel his lips on your throat, tongue pressing on the rapid pulsing of the vein on your neck. You feel the warm, sticky ropes of his cum that he’d stuffed in you with no shame.

He places slow kisses along your jawline—cock still stuffed in you, plugging his cum inside—and again, you feel the ghost of a smile on his lips.

“Mm.” Leon’s voice is barely audible as he mutters in your ear. “S’ not enough. Let me give you some more.”

Boxes | Older! Neighbour! Leon Kennedy x Fem! Reader

✎ Notes: Older Leon has been rotting my brain recently, especially DI Leon ugh. I'm making another fic with him but I honestly might do Vendetta Leon. I just know this man would help you out with moving in.

➤ WC: 3K

➤ CW: Strangers to lovers? Pet names: Sweetheart, Love, Baby, Darling, Good girl. Reader is seen to be in their low 20s whilst Leon being 38. Leon feeling ashamed of himself for liking you, mentions of Ada, Helena, Claire. Leon has a fleshlight. Touch starved Leon. Both you and Leon are a bit tipsy. Tit play, Leon eating you out, P in V (unprotected sex), aftercare.

MINORS DNI!

Carrying boxes was strenuous. You moved in a few weeks ago from your parents house, it was time for a new start. Although, your arms seem to regret the decision as you lift up the remainder of your boxes to the 12th floor. But it wasn't as bad when you had a certain man by your side. Leon was lucky enough to see you struggle your way up the apartment complex. Your first meeting with him had a slight tinge of embarrassment but soon died down as you got to know each other soon enough. With Leon carrying all of your heavy belongings such as your disheveled chairs and whatnot - you could see the strain on his muscles, it was attractive without a doubt. Despite the fact that he was older than you, the way he carried himself with looks and personality made him extremely enchanting. He was a man of charisma.

Today was like no other, however, it was the last lot of boxes you had stored in your parents house. Therefore, it shouldn't be that hard right? Leon was coming to help you out anyways, he insisted.

A few minutes passed, your back towards your car as you wait for Leon to come out of the complex. A similar silhouette appeared, Leon closed the door behind him - approaching you with a small smile. "Last set today then?" He spoke out to you as he opened the trunk of the car. "Yeah, good for you right? Your old back won't be cracking every 5 minutes" You teased leading to Leon giving a low chuckle as he looked at you. "Old? You wound me." He laughed out as he took an airy box. "I don't look that old do I?" He passed the package to you, taking a hefty one for himself. "No... no, you look good." You mumbled out, hoping he didn't take the compliment in a different way. "Good? I'll take it." Leon gave you a smirk as he shifted the box, walking towards the door. You hurried up behind him, ensuring you didn't make yourself look weird. Entering into the complex with a nervous look on your face. Even though moving in was arduous, the thoughts of not speaking to Leon daily made you feel quite upset. How would you even make up an excuse to see him? Knowing him for a few weeks was short but the way you linked with each other was different. It was like you were friends for years, comfort was found within you when you spoke to Leon. If only you knew how he felt about you.

Leon felt bad. He felt ashamed that he found you so attractive. The way your shirt hugged your body and your jeans show the curvature of your ass and your thighs strained. You were so much younger than him - he couldn't help his mind wandering to images of you whilst he laid in his own bed. Wishing it was yours. He built your bedframe, he helped you place the soft clean mattress on top. Yet he felt pure filth in his self as he thought of your body on his. His hands intertwined with yours as ideas of fucking you flooded his brain. Night after night it would be the same for him, his cock thrusting into his hand or fleshlight. He tried to think of anyone else but you. Ada, Claire, Helena could only stay in his mind for a mere 20 seconds before his brain cogged back to you. You. It wouldn't help hearing you over the thins walls as you touched yourself. The softest but most pornographic moans leaving your lips. Leon only wished that it was him making you sound that way, but it was wrong. What would his friends think if he dated you? He believed he was out of your league - if only he knew about the sinful thoughts you had about him too when you indulged in your own pleasure. Two fingers thrusting into your cunt wishing it was his, gushing all over your thighs as images of him engulfed your brain.

"Stay here, I'll get the last few boxes for you." Leon maintained a steady voice shaking out the immoral ideas in his head. Keeping a level-headed smile he gave you a small wave before you could argue back. Seeing his back turned towards you, your eyes subconsciously wandered on it. Soon landing onto his biceps, subtle veins leading to his hands as he went stood in front of the elevator. Snapping yourself out of your trance, you unpacked the two boxes you and Leon took up. Placing the glasses into the kitchen cabinet and hanging up clothes was therapeutic in some way. Helping you calm yourself from your thoughts on Leon as you felt a wet patch on your panties. Pouring out a glass of wine for two as you waited for Leon to come back.

"I think that's it.. unless you have some hidden ones in your car?" He joked as he placed down the final box to the side, looking up to see you with two glasses of wine in your hand. "Oh?" He smiled, stretching his back before walking to you. "Seems like you need this then." You giggled passing him the glass, Leon rolling his eyes as he took it. "Thank you for the past few weeks helping me move in... I was wondering if you wanted to relax for a bit?" You murmured, sitting down on your couch. Leon soon accompanying you. "How can I say no?" He gave you a slight smirk as the rim of the wine glass pressed against his lips, the alcoholic liquid sliding down his throat.

A bottle or two of wine later caused the both of you to erupt into laughter and giggles - getting to know each other quite well. You learned that Leon worked for the government, although not being able to go into grave detail, he was an important figure for the USA. It wasn't long until you also explained what your job was, explaining in why you chose your path. However, you felt hot. Way too hot as you sensed his eyes gaze all over you. Lingering onto your lips and eyes as he looked at you with such awe and fascination. Leon felt warm within himself, you were like a new light that he had been longing for. You spoke without care, refreshing for him as his job withheld such secrecy. An urge secreted in him as your soft lips moved with grace. He yearned for you, and it was becoming evident from the pained strain in his jeans.

Taking another sip from your drink, you spoke without thinking. "How's your love life?" Shit. Was that too personal? Hoping for the best outcome you fiddled with your glass as your eyes wandered to his face, trying to decipher what expression he had. "Boring. If I'm being honest with you, I haven't dated anyone for years." A deep chuckle elicited out of his throat. The rasp laced in his tone giving you a shiver. "Seriously? You're joking." A giggle came out of you. Was he actually single? "Nope. But I'm surprised you don't have a certain someone here. You've got a boyfriend haven't you?" Leon hiccupped out, the alcohol making him feel fuzzy. To his surprise, your head shook side to side. "No, I'm single alright." You said with a soft smile plastered on your face. Leon genuinely couldn't believe it. A woman like you single? "Now that's a surprise." Leon grinned as he finished his 4th glass of wine. "Well, I'm sure you'll be able to find a man of your age. Although most of them are probably a pain in your ass." He laid back onto the couch, his arm behind his head. Again, your eyes couldn't help but avert to the flex of his bicep. This time, it didn't go unnoticed.

"You're right." A sigh came from your lips, "Which is why I don't usually go for guys my age." You admitted, making Leon confused. So who did you go for? "Hm? So you like younger men?" He asked, staring into your eyes with his own lustful ones. Praying that what you were looking for was the opposite of young. A mellow giggle followed out of your mouth as you shook your head once more. "No, I like older men." Leon's smirk became wider as those words left your mouth. Maybe he had a chance after all. Perhaps his wrongful thoughts were okay with you - that you wouldn't mind a man near twice your age to fuck you. "Really sweetheart?" A low groan drawn out his throat, his eyes basically fucking you. That same heat returned to you, just much more insatiable.

It was like a flip in you switched, your body longing for touch as so for Leon. Sloppy kisses shared between you two as Leon's hands gripped the fat on your hips. Subconsciously grinding himself into you as he felt your clit throb on his crotch. Your quiet whimpers muffled by the crashing of yours and Leon's lips unmethodical rhythms as saliva was shared. "F-Fuck.." A moan left Leon's lips, his head clouded by lust as he tapped your legs. "Wrap 'em around me darling." He demanded as he held you up, your legs squeezed tight around his waist - your irregular breathing echoing in his mind. Leon wasn't going to just fuck you on the couch, he wanted to show you his love. Heavy footsteps followed behind him as he nudged your bedroom door open, placing you gently on your newly built bed. "Let's see how well I built this frame, yeah?" Leon joked as he littered your neck with butterfly kisses. Pinning you down, stopping your squirming beneath him. "L-Leon..." That was enough to get him going, the pornographic moan after the lustful mumble of his name had his cock throbbing for more. He wanted you, he needed you.

Leon's hands slowly crept under your shirt, caressing your chest as he kneaded your tits. Pinching at your nipples to elicit another whine out of you. Your soft, mellow skin opposed his calloused hands. The hands that killed bioweapons were fondling with your tits, shakily taking off your shirt to show them in true beauty. "So fucking gorgeous." Leon groaned out, without a doubt in his mind he shoved his head in between your breasts. Your whimpers echoed throughout your bedroom, just to be stopped as you gasped when you felt his knee part your legs. Rubbing your clothed clit as he sucked on the plush parts of your tits. His hands methodically unbuttoned your jeans, slowly pulling them off you as he saw your pretty laced panties. They would've looked so innocent if it wasn't for the soaked wet patch in the middle of them. "All this for me baby?" He murmured, enchanted by how wet you were. You could couldn't help but frantically nod your head, needing to feel his touch somewhere else. "P-Please Leon.. need you to touch me." You moaned gently, your hips bucking for any type of touch. Who was he to say no to such a polite question? "Alright sweetheart.. C'mon spread your legs f'me." He ordered and you obeyed, feeling like mush in his hands.

The pads of his fingers played with the lace and the little bow at the top. Cute. Slowly, he slid your panties to the side, your slick leaving a small strand attached to the material. Leon was mesmerized by the sight, yet you felt embarrassed. Trying to close your legs failed as his strong hands pried you open. "Don't close 'em love, you're so beautiful. Let me appreciate you, yeah?" He groaned, feeling himself rut into your fresh linen sheets. Leon positioned himself in front of your clit, feeling his mouth water as he looked at it. His eyes flickering to you before asking "Do you want me to carry on darling?" His hot breath tickling you, a soft moan squeezed out your throat. "Yes.. Please Leon.. Want your tongue on my clit." Leon gave you a deep chuckle in response, his eyes flickering back to your clit. "'Atta girl.. Didn't know you were so dirty." He whispered before licking your slit, slowly capturing you in his mouth.

This was pure filth. Your moans alongside the wet sounds your pussy was making as Leon's pistoned two fingers in and out of you. His tongue skillfully flicking over your clit as his baby blue eyes watched your reactions. Your fingers felt themselves entangled in Leon's hair, pulling at his strands as choked moans fell out of your mouth. Chasing for that sweet release, you subconsciously bucked your hips, allowing for Leon's nose to press up against your clit. Deep, shallow moans trembled into your clit as Leon was determined to make you cum. He wanted all of you, he needed you to be ready for his cock. "C'mon, give it to me baby." He pressed his tongue against you, curving his fingers in you in the right spot. "L-Leon... I'm gonna.." Your sentence was soon cut off by the shaking of your body as the coil in you snapped. The orgasm took over your body, your lips chanting his name as you pulled on his hair. Granting you a groan from Leon as he swallowed your cum. "So sweet." He chuckled, pulling himself off you. Before pulling your face close to his, allowing you to taste yourself as he kissed you.

Leon felt a hand tug on his shirt, your pleading eyes staring into his blue ones. A smirk tugged his face as he took off his shirt. Slowly unbuckling his belt, removing his jeans alongside it too. Your cunt ached to be fucked, your mind telling you that only Leon could satisfy your needs.

He pulled down his boxers, a pretty dark red tip beamed at you. Glistening with pre-cum smeared all of it. You couldn't help but stare as Leon's face flushed a light pink. "Fuck.. Don't look at it like that sweetheart." He moaned softly, positioning himself right up against your entrance. "You ready?" His hand slowly caressed your face, a nod coming from you as he intertwined his hand with yours. He was big. Real fucking big as you felt yourself stretch open, your eyes rolling back in pain mixed with pleasure. Fuck. Leon could've came right there as he saw your expression change. You were so attractive. He slowly rutted himself into you, moaning your name as his hips sputtered. "Y-You alright?" He stuttered out, you were so tight. "Yeah.. I'm okay. You can move Leon." A soft smile appeared on your face, he couldn't help but reciprocate it back. He moved his hips, his thrusts soft - but it was hard to keep it that way after a minute. His thighs started to slap against yours as his dick pistoned into you. Leon threw his head back in otherworldly pleasure, moaning sweet nothings as he felt himself lose himself inside of you. You were no different. Your moans and screams increased in volume and pitch as you felt him pound into you. Your legs shaking in pleasure as you felt that same coil tighten in you again. "My good girl.. f-fuck so fucking good f'me." Leon growled, feeling his body become weak to your pheromones. He buried his head into your neck, marking you with lovebites. He felt his dick throb as his hips moved without thought.

"Leon.. I'm gonna cum again.. Feels too good." Mewls escaped from your throat as your hands scrapped at his back. Scratching him. The pain mixed with pleasure was enough for Leon to start panting as he felt himself get close. "Cum for me, please cum for me baby.." He whined as he thrusted into your sweet little pussy. You were so pretty for him, his good girl. The marks on your neck slowly started to become more evident, a smirk appeared on his face as he saw you scrunch up your face. His hand snaked down to your clit, slowly rubbing it. Giving you a whole new sensation as you felt his dick pulsate inside you. "I.. I.. Leon!" The coil in you snapped again, twice as hard as you creamed all over his cock. He didn't stop smacking himself into you, a white ring forming at the base. Leon started to chase his own high. "Take it, take it, take it." He chanted as he felt his hips stammer. The clapping of your skin quickly died down as Leon jerked himself out of you, rubbing his dick as his cum splattered all over your stomach. You couldn't help but think how handsome he looked as he threw his head back, moaning your name.

After both of your highs, Leon practically collapsed on top of you. "G-Get off.. You're so heavy." You tried to push him off, a laugh escaping Leon's lips as he pulled himself off of you. Pressing a soft kiss against your lips. He climbed out of your bed, pulling up his boxers and walked out of your bedroom. Soon, he returned with a damp cloth in his hand with two bottles of water in the other. Whilst wiping you down, Leon flashed you a quick smile and passed you the cold bottle. Your lips pursed the top as you gulped down the liquid. "C'mon... Let's shower." He took his hand into yours, lifting you up from your bed and carrying you to your bathroom. Your hot thighs pressed against the cold counter as he flipped the shower on. "Hey guess what." Leon couldn't help but giggle out the sentence. Your eyebrow cocked up as you looked over to him. "What?" You asked him with a smile on your face.

"At least we know I built the frame right." He laughed out, finding himself hilarious. "Oh shut up." Your laughter soon followed along.

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

City Lights

You belong to the Port Mafia and after Oda informs you that he is worried about Dazai's behavior, you both set out to try to find him.

Contents: afab!reader, mafia Dazai (but he acts more like ADA Dazai), fingering, cunnilingus on the edge of a building, praise, consensual, mentions of a possible suicide attempt, he calls you Bella, Donna and Belladonna, handjob, blowjob, unprotected sex, pull out.

Word count: 6.9K

+18 MDNI—Explicit content

A/N: this is my first time writing here, I just wanted to try and see what happens. English is not my first language so I apologize if there are any mistakes in my writing.

You ran desperately throughout the building, as much as your legs would carry you, opening every door that came your way, ignoring the screams and threats of the individuals inside the rooms once you determined that he was not there, only then did you leave the place to continue with your search, it was like a game of hide-and-seek in which someone's life was probably at stake and that someone was Dazai.

Once you made sure to check the entire place, you got on the elevator, taking the opportunity to try to regulate your heavy breathing. After pressing the number for the next floor, you took your cell phone out of your pocket to check if you had any messages from Oda, while you searched the upper floors he searched the lower ones, the first one to find him had to notify the other.

This search method was frankly tiring you out but Mori wouldn't let you see the cameras unless the mafia was in danger and unlike the two of you, no one else seemed really worried about the brunette, clearly, him thinking about making an attempt on his life was not something that surprised anyone. Normally not even the two of you would take it so seriously but Oda mentioned that he was uneasy about Dazai's behavior after a night of drinking, you just couldn't let it go and that's why he had told you, maybe because he knew you were the only person who would care as much as he did.

You weren't sure when he had time to get so deep into your heart but you weren't going to be calm until you saw him. If Chuuya realized you were so concern about Dazai he would most likely make fun of you but you would worry about him later.

If you were Dazai where would you be? You pondered that question a couple of times, getting frustrated in your attempt to find an answer, the one with chocolate eyes was simply too smart for you to be able to think like him, if he didn't want to be found no one would find him, that was a fact. Whenever you tried to think like him you ended up coming to the same conclusion, maybe he was on the roof but it didn't make sense to you, he wasn't such a typical person who just wanted to end his life anyway, Osamu wouldn't jump off the roof because the end could be physically painful and he felt rejection towards the pain. However, after having just that one idea you found yourself going back to the elevator and pressing the number for the top floor, skipping the other ones and ignoring everything in that place to go straight to the stairs that led to the roof.

The door was half open, letting in the outside air, you pushed it slightly and looked out realizing that your hunch was correct. There he was, standing on the edge of the building, one wrong step and it would be a fatal fall. He was wearing only his white shirt and black pants, without his black trench coat, his shoes lay next to him perfectly placed, he had his hands in his pockets and his gaze fixed on the view in front of him.

You let out a sigh of relief and text Oda immediately, you told him to go home and that this time you would take care of him, he didn't seem as serious as you thought after all. You closed the door behind you softly and slowly approached him.

"Could you come down from there?" You asked him in a calm voice, a bit of softness to speed up the process, frankly you were too tired to stay there all night.

"Belladonna, have you seen how beautiful the city looks from here?" He asked without turning around, he didn't need to do it to know who was behind him. You weren't surprised that he had noticed so easily, maybe he knew from the beginning that you would come. "It's like a painting in motion... I wonder how many of the people down there have something to hold onto."

"Something to hold on to?" You asked, your gaze traveling from his body to what was in front of him, the city. Modern buildings, some unnecessarily tall structures that cost a fortune to build, the entire place was filled with bright lights interrupting the night with its light pollution and the unmistakable noise of the crowd below overshadowed the calm sound of the wind.

"Something that makes them wake up every morning and be grateful for being alive, their family, friends, a pet or even a love... it may not even be a living being for some of them," he explained, turning calmly, his feet touching the edge of the abyss for a second making your heart skip a beat. "People cling to work because they need money, I think they will also have something that makes them subconsciously cling to life, something that makes them happy enough to want to continue living."

You couldn't be sure if all this speech was coming from his alcohol intake, probably not, those words could perfectly well come out of the mouth of a completely sober Dazai, Oda said that he had drunk more than normal but surely he wasn't even drunk, he was just saying whatever was on his mind.

"Do you have something to hold on to Bella?" He asked, placing one of his hands on his chin, narrowing his eyes as he looked directly at you, as if he could read your mind. "Let's not go too deep... you have something to make you cling to the mafia?"

"You know I have it" you responded, looking away from him again.

Anyone with half a brain in the mafia could guess the answer to that question.

The same reason you had joined the mafia was the reason you clung to it, Nakahara Chuuya. Since you had joined the sheep you swore loyalty to the redhead and unlike the rest of your friends that loyalty remained even after the rest betrayed him, no matter what they said, if he had collaborated with the Port Mafia he would have his reasons, if he had joined them he would have his reasons for that too and as long as he allowed you to accompany him you were going to be by his side no matter what happened. Even in the mafia your loyalty was not really to Mori but to the gravity manipulator, if Chuuya's loyalty was with that man then yours would be too.

"Chibi-chan is lucky" the brunette assured, smiling, hiding sadness in that gesture, not even bothering to hide it enough so that you couldn't notice it. Did he hope that he was the reason why you clung to this place? Or maybe it just affected him to think that he was the only one who had nothing to hold on to.

You almost never understood him, mainly his fixation with death gave you chills, his way of acting seemed confusing and his intellect was overwhelming but there was something in particular about him that kept catching your attention, that aura of a writer in pain, which he carried as if it were his eternal luggage. You can't help but feel that he was suffering as only artists knew how to suffer and that made you want to pay attention to him every time he entered a room. His suffering was poetic and intriguing, you wanted to know what was really behind all that, what was behind Dazai Osamu's mask, that's why you had let him get so close to you, dig an egg in your heart and get into it as much as he felt like it.

"Come and dance with me," he said, extending one of his hands gently, his flirtatious expression now replacing that hurt smile.

"I'll dance with you if you come down from there." You assured crossing your arms, he pouted at your response.

"But if you dance with me here we can have a better view" he tried to convince you, put both hands in the air pretending that he was placing one of them on someone`s shoulder and holding their waist with the other, humming a song that you didn't know he began to move gracefully over the edge of the building, dirtying his feet with the dust accumulated on the cement, the way he carelessly turned on the tips of his feet seemed like he was dancing with death.

He winked at you before making another spin, staggering enough to scare you so you ran up to him and pulled one of his hands making him fall to the opposite side of the chasm, accidentally taking you with him, falling on your back while he landed next to you on one of his shoulders.

"You're an idiot" you mentioned, getting up when you heard him laugh from the ground, he lay down on his back, crumpling and dirtying his white shirt, not that he cared anyway. His eyesight no longer appreciated the city lights but the sky above your heads.

"You should stop hanging out with Chuuya, you're starting to sound like him." He put both hands behind his head and used them as a pillow, he didn't seem ready to get up yet. "You came to stop me, didn't you?"

You nodded and he let out a sigh.

"If you keep worrying so much about me I'm going to start thinking that you like me, Bella." From his tone he sounds like a little boy who just wants to annoy, it's like he expected that comment to make you angry but you don't even take him seriously, he wanted to provoke you like he did with Chuuya but that behavior was nothing new for you and unlike the redhead, you could let Dazai's attitude go.

Ignoring his comment, you walked until you rested your hands on the edge of the building, getting a better view of the landscape that he adored a few minutes ago. He was right, it was a painting in motion. You could understand how anyone would be struck by that interesting urban chaos.

The brunette sighed, his body still resting on the ground, one of his legs crossed over the other, his hair disheveled and his eyes left the starry sky to rest on you, admiring your figure. Although he knew that you and Chuuya didn't have a physical or romantic relationship, he couldn't help but think that the blue-eyed boy was lucky. Osamu was almost sure that you would never mind him touching you, from your body language he deduced that a part of you really was attracted to the gravity manipulator but he was too distracted to notice. And although Dazai himself had tried to make him seen it several times, he always told him to shut up. His obstinacy was sad, a true waste of a beautiful lady's interest.

Why were you wasting your time waiting for someone too clueless to notice you?

If it were him, Dazai, he would have realized it in an instant and would never have wasted your time, whatever you wanted from him he would have gladly given it to you. He wasn't Chuuya but he did suffer because of how much he wanted to touch you, run his fingers over your smooth skin, caress every corner of you that he could reach. Your body was what he occasionally craved more than death.

Eternal rest had enchanted him, it had seduced him a long time ago and he couldn't wait for destiny to let him fall into its arms, but he was clear that he would escape from it if you gave him the opportunity to try you at least once. To get rid of the doubts he has, how sweet your essence would be, how drunk would he be if it spilled on his lips, how much your silhouette would hypnotize him in the middle of his hands full of sin. You made him wonder so many things that he could rarely sleep when you got into his head at night.

"Chibi-chan is lucky," he repeated to himself, part of him cursing that the redhead would let the wind take away that ticket to happiness that the world had carefully laid at his feet.

"If you repeat it so much I'm going to start to think that you're envious of him," you mentioned without turning around, as a joke, assuming that he would defend himself with some childish comment, bringing out that immature behavior that the mere mention of the gravity manipulator caused in him. However, Dazai was not in the mood to play children's games that night.

"Maybe a little," he admits with a shrug, getting up from the ground and approaching you with his hands in his pockets.

You frowned in confusion at what you had just heard, turning to find him just a few steps away from you. "What could you envy about Chuuya?"

This was that type of behavior that always surprised you, he usually spent his time getting the redhead out of his mind as much as he could, teasing him, making fun of him, provoking him in every way he could think of, but now he calmly revealed that a part of him envied Nakahara. Dazai Osamu was quite a puzzle.

He took a few more steps towards you and you instinctively backed away until you collided with the edge of the building, he stopped inches from you, tilting his head down to carefully observe your face adorned with bewilderment and confusion.

"The way you look at him" he sighed "I don't know if I'd call it jealousy but I definitely wish I was in his place."

You froze for a second, he sounded sincere but frankly you weren't sure how much you could trust what Dazai was telling you, after all his intelligence surpassed yours, he could probably make you believe whatever he wanted, although it was not clear to you what he would gain from what he was telling you.

"Stop joking, Dazai," you warned him, fixing your eyes on his, trying to make him understand through your serious look that you weren't in the mood for that kind of games, not when he got so into character.

"I promise you I'm not joking" he clarified, raising both hands in a sign of innocence, he didn't feel like playing with that topic either, at least not now. The way the city lights illuminated you from below gave you an aura worthy of admire for him, he couldn't play with you at a moment like that, when you looked so especially charming. "I can prove it to you if you want," he offered as naturally as he would offer you a glass of water, although it was not clear to you what exactly he was offering you.

"Prove it to me?" you asked, bewildered. His hands returned to his pockets and he nodded slightly. "Prove what to me, Dazai?"

Without making any sudden movements, he took his hands out of his pockets again, being aware of how uneasy he had made you feel by his sudden confession, he slowly brought his hands closer to one of yours, taking it to bring it to his mouth and after lightly licking his lips, he planted a small kiss on the back of your hand, hoping to calm you with his gentle gesture. He proceeded to explain himself "I would like to prove to you how much I want you to look at me the way you look at Chuuya."

You could have sworn that you had felt your heart skip a beat and you froze for a second, repeating his words in your head over and over again, processing them to make sure you weren't imagining things, that proposal had really come out of the brunette's mouth, he was actually in front of you, ensuring that he meant what he said.

You blinked several times when Dazai's lips crashed into yours after accepting his request. Beyond how much everything that was happening seemed strange to you, it intrigued you after all, like everything that had to do with him. You didn't know where he wanted to go with all this, what exactly he hoped to achieve or what feelings towards Chuuya he was referring to but you were willing to take the risk because you were interested in that brown-haired man after all. More in a general way than romantically, however you didn't want to let go the opportunity to get closer to him and discover what awaited you in his proposal.

His lips were thin, soft, gentle at first, the taste of what he had drunk still lingered on them but you didn't dislike it. His hands went delicately to your body, confidently placing one on your waist, bringing you closer to him while the other cupped your face, his thumb barely had contact with your cheek, his touch was respectful of you, he moved forward timidly while he made sure you felt comfortable with him and then he took you as if he didn't want to let you go.

With your eyes closed, you sank into the kiss, your hands slowly passed through his chest until they surrounded his neck and buried themselves in his scalp, allowing you to play with his soft brown hair while you gave him access to your mouth. You didn't expect him to melt you for him so easily but it wasn't a surprise to you either, he was naturally skilled at everything he put his mind to, this wouldn't be an exception. He won the battle for dominance of the kiss without problems and he explored your oral cavity anxiously as he took even more of you, desire growing inside him every time he got more, everything was better than he had imagined.

Your body reacted so perfectly to him, to the passage of his palms, it was not as if you were made to fit with him but rather as if you molded to his taste, as if your body told him where he should go but at the same time took him where he wanted to go. He was sure that your mouth was the place he would return to without thinking about it, it could be his eternal vice and he would never get tired of the sweet and addictive feeling of your lips against his, if he had to receive the kiss of death he hoped it would come from you, he couldn't resist anyone else kissing him from now on. He went down to your neck and your aroma filled his nostrils, making him wish his pillows smelled like that. Sleeping every night with that comforting smell sounded like paradise. Now he would never want to be separated from you, not after you made him obsessed with you this way.

"You are exquisite Belladonna" he whispered, bringing his lips to your ear, slowly licking your earlobe causing your entire body to tingle, his arms wrapped around your waist, curling even more as he took another step closer, pressing his body against yours, slightly tucking one of his legs between yours. "I wonder how far you'll let me go."

He raised his knee a little, until his thigh made contact with your clothed cunt, he applied pressure lightly getting a gasp from you and unconsciously your thighs tightened around his leg preventing him from moving, which drew a smile on Dazai's lips.

The brunette's hands were filled with audacity and slowly left your waist to travel to your ass, he stopped for a moment to wait for a slap from you, one that never came, that was the proof he needed to know that he had now intoxicated you so much in him that he had you where he wanted. He gave your cheeks a gentle squeeze, a gasp escaping your lips while a satisfying hum escaped his own, every part of you was too alluring not to place his sinful fingers on it, he took the time to enjoy the contact between his finger tips and every centimeter of your body.

"I think I've proven enough" he whispered in your ear as a warning, letting you know that he was about to walk away, thinking that if he had achieved his goal you would immediately stop him and just like that, you did it, you didn't understand exactly why or how but now you needed him. You couldn't let him walk away now that he had stolen a little of your breath and a little of your common sense.

Your grip tightened slightly, you didn't say anything but it was easy to understand the meaning behind that, you didn't want him to move away. And that's how Dazai understood it, complying with the implicit order you had given him, he joined his lips with yours again, carrying this second kiss with more lust than the previous one.

He gave your ass another squeeze, harder this time, and leaned over you, his height trapping you completely between him and the edge of the building, at any other time you would have yelled at him to get away because it could be dangerous, but now there was something exciting about having the bright lights of the city behind you while the brown-eyed man's lips moved down your neck, sucking your skin with desire and the need to record every part of you in every part of himself.

You knew that Chuuya would judge you for this, your mind would probably go blank when he asked you where the hickeys that Dazai was leaving so passionately on your neck had come from, so you would have to hope that the redhead didn't find out that it was precisely Mackerel who skillfully unbuttoned your shirt while you sighed for him every time his knee pressed on that special place between your legs. The one with blue eyes would never leave you alone if he knew that you had let Osamu put his eyes on your breasts and he would recriminate you for the rest of your life if you told him, that you allowed him not only to place his hands but also his lips on them. Nakahara would be a pain in the ass if you admitted that your panties got wet for no one else and no other than the youngest leader in the history of the Port Mafia.

Dazai, on the other hand, was fascinated with you, with your breasts and the soft sounds that escaped your mouth every time he ran his tongue over what wasn't covered by your bra, but although he was delighted with it, he didn't take long to take the next step and let one of his hands went down your abdomen, caressing your soft skin until he reached the button on your pants, which he got rid of in a matter of seconds to slide his hand between your panties.

"Oh, 'Donna, what do we have here?" He asked rhetorically as he felt the wetness in your pussy, a teasing tone and a smirk plastered on his face caused your cheeks to burn. A sudden stroke of shyness because of his comment attacked you and you wanted to push him away, putting your hands on his chest but before you could do it he started making circles on your clit making you moan. "Beautiful, come on, sing more for me."

It was music to his ears, an unmatched melody, it was like a delicacy that he could taste every time he heard it, delicious. He wanted more, he needed more and that was what he got by accelerating his rhythm, a series of moans, sweet, desperate, it made his skin crawl and his member throb in his pants.

The brunette bit his lower lip when you threw your head back, eyes closed and lips parted, your eyebrows furrowed slightly every time you sighed and the expression of satisfaction on your face could easily be worthy of a museum if you asked Dazai. The representation of beauty appeared before him, you were like a muse and he was definitely a lucky man, how could he not consider himself one after what he was experiencing.

He abandoned your clit and his finger slowly slid to your folds, he kissed your collarbones sweetly and began to insert his digit, delighting in how good your walls felt surrounding him, your warmth welcoming him as he had been longing for so long. It was like a dream but it felt real, although nothing real had ever felt so good to him before, he could almost give up his death wish if you asked him, with your voice shaking and your eyes covered in desire. He could kneel before you if you asked him to and he did, even though you didn't ask him.

You whimpered when he took his hands off of you and then opened your eyes, you saw him smile at you, what you would describe as an mischievous smile spread across his face when his hands went to the hem of your pants, he winked at you and his eyes told you to trust him, so already too invested in that situation, you trusted.

Without your pants being a problem he placed one of his hands on your lower abdomen, gently pushing you until you were lying on the edge of the building, there was barely enough room for your torso, your head was hanging off the edge and you could see the city lights, you got lost in them for a second while the man with chocolate eyes slid your panties down your legs until they fell to the floor.

Dazai placed your legs on his shoulders, holding your thighs with his arms to make sure he didn't let you fall, he would never forgive himself if he did. Osamu didn't know which he loved more at this point, the view of the city from the edge or the view of your wet cunt, probably the latter since he was the only one who could see it. He moved closer and you could feel his breath hit your entrance, he licked his lips before placing a kiss on your clit.

That he was a messy eater didn't surprise you, it was almost expected, what you would never have expected was how good he was at it, eager to please, to listen to how you succumbed more and more to his charms. All the slurping, sucking and wet sounds he caused were lost in the wind along with the lewd sounds that escaped your mouth.

You two were lucky no one came up to the roof.

You started to get dizzy, being upside down was starting to affect you but with how good he made you feel you didn't want to move, not only was your entire body gripped by lust but you had a beautiful view, how were you supposed to want to stop this?

With his tongue between your folds he pumped his head at a steady pace, tongue fucking you, occasionally switching to giving a few quick licks to your clit. Your wetness covered his mouth and he was happy about it, he went against you like a hungry man, ready to satisfy himself with you, he wanted to taste as much of you as he could as if you were his favorite candy, one that if he didn't eat now he didn't know when he would be able to eat again. This was his chance, now or never, he had to take advantage while he could or he would regret it later.

"Dazai, feels so good" your hands went to his scalp and buried themselves in it, you brought him closer to you almost as if you didn't care if he runs out air, god knows he didn't care if he did. What could be better than dying between your legs? Thinking of himself as Shakespeare, he would say that it would be like finding heaven without even entering it, he would definitely brag to the demons and bother the angels by claiming that his heaven is better than theirs.

Your legs trembled around his head and your back arched, it was too much, your orgasm crawled up to you, a knot in the lower part of your stomach that threatened to unravel at any moment, you warned him with heavy breathing. You asked him to go slower but he couldn't allow himself to do that, not when you were so close to the climax he was dying to witness.

His hands held your thighs tightly, avoiding digging his nails into you because he wasn't looking to hurt you, he wouldn't forgive himself for that, he wanted to please you, not hurt you, he couldn't hurt you, especially now that he knew how well his name sounded on your lips when you moaned it.

The lights of the city disappeared as your eyes closed when you felt like you were going to touch heaven the second you came on Dazai's face, your fluids dripping down your thighs and onto his chin but that didn't stop him, he licked your folds until you finished riding your high.

"That was beautiful, Donna," he said, getting up from the ground and pulling you by the waist, he helped you sit down. You barely knew where you were. Your half-open eyes focused on him and he joined his lips with yours, making you taste yourself. "You're lovely."

He helped you stand up, he was afraid that you would fall if he didn't take you away from the abyss, one fall from there and he would lose you, death would not forgive you after you took away the man who wanted her most. The brunette was sure that she was a jealous being.

"Do you think you can help me with something?" He whispered in your ear as if he was afraid the city behind him could hear him.

"With what?" You asked between the dizziness and the intensity of your climax, between the dopamine and oxytocin, the feeling of well-being was too good to allow you to concentrate on anything.

"This" taking one of your wrists, the one with brown eyes took it until he placed your hand on the bulge in his pants, it was painfully hard, he let out a sigh as you cradled him, stroking him slowly as you watched him bite his lip.

You started very clumsily but Dazai didn't pay much attention to that, it was a matter of time before your other hand helped you by going to his belt, you thought you had understood what he wanted you to do. The sound of the buckle hitting the ground interrupted the wind for a second as you knelt in front of him, undoing the button on his pants, your thumbs pulling down his boxers just enough to free his member and one of your hands wrapping around him, he gasped and threw his head back. You began to make slow movements along his length and he pushed his hips a little, motivating you to go faster, he was beginning to get desperate.

His tip, aching red, began to drip with precum so you used your thumb to spread some, you licked your lips settling down on your knees which were scraping lightly on the cement of the floor, some dust on your skin but you weren't paying attention to the dirt of the place but to Dazai's reactions, his soft sighs and the way he pushed his hips against your hand every now and then.

You opened your mouth, your head moving unconsciously towards his cock. Feeling your breath on him his gaze turned to you, you almost took his breath away when you timidly placed your lips on his tip, he cursed in a whisper, the surprising sensation of pleasure that ran over him made him gasp harder than before, his nails dug into his palms and he had to stop himself from grabbing your head and pushing himself until he hit your throat and made you choke on him, it wasn't the time for that but he would definitely save the idea for another day. You pumped your head a little, just focusing on the head while your hand worked on the rest at a similar pace, his eyes couldn't stop looking at the way his dick was slowly disappearing in your mouth. How was it possible that you looked so angelic and seductively sinful at the same time?

A small but unexpected thrust on his part made your gag reflex worse for a second so you had to separate for a moment, you coughed but quickly composed yourself, although you wanted to take him again he stopped you, he couldn't let everything continue to focus so much on himself when he was dying to have your legs wrapped around his waist and your eyes with dilated pupils focused on him while he slam into you.

"We have many days for you to finish that." Of course, now that he knew the paradise you were, he would claim you as his own. "Would you mind lying down for me?"

The stars of the late night were the spectators of how you did what he asked you, lying on your back, your legs were bent but the shame that you had not gotten rid of yet forced you to keep them together, tenderly he knelt just before open them with the same delicacy that he used at the beginning.

Even with your open blouse on and your bra you felt very exposed when the brunette took a second to appreciate you from head to toe, kneeling in front of you, his gaze felt heavy, it was like the one of a predator, he would intimidate you if you showed him weakness for a second, perhaps that's how those who feared him felt, however, unlike with them, that look did nothing more than silently praise your body. Of course you still didn't learn enough about him to notice that difference.

Dazai took place in between your legs, with his member in one of his hands, he ran his tip up and down your folds, filling it with your fluids, enjoying your sighs of satisfaction and despair at the same time. You didn't know what he was waiting for, you thought maybe he wanted some kind of approval but when you were about to give it, he entered your pussy in one thrust, unexpectedly stretching you out, your back arched and you both moaned in unison.

"Oh, you take me so well." He said with relief, satisfaction radiating from his face.

You surrounded him with your legs and held on to his biceps when his hands rested on either side of your body, contrary to what you expected considering his first thrust, he started calmly, giving you time to get used to it. Although it didn't take you long to do so, soon you were saying his name as if it were a prayer, asking him to go faster and clearly your wishes were orders to him. His pace not only became more constant but he began to bury himself harder inside you, your walls around him could easily be his downfall and he would never complain.

He looked at where the two of you joined together, he wanted to engrave that image in his head, it would serve him so well when you appeared in his thoughts and you weren't around, he would have something that would help him entertain himself, calm his cravings and the possible erection that he remembering you would cause him. Your walls tightening around him, your nails digging on his skin, your legs on his waist and your breasts moving every time he thrust into you, a perfect combination for him, that motivated him to go all out but not as much as your shaky voice that was occasionally interrupted by moans.

His hips against yours generated the unmistakable sound of flesh against flesh, his balls collided against your ass and you could feel him so much deeper each time, making a pleasurable current spread through your body, your toes curled, your breathing was extremely irregular, you were losing yourself too much in your satisfaction again and the last straw was when Dazai hit your cervix.

"Too deep," you whimpered.

You had never felt anyone so deep inside you, this was a new experience. You felt full, totally, and it was glorious.

Without saying anything, the one with brown eyes move your bra away and brought his lips to one of your nipples, stimulating you even more, between that and the rough way he went against you, it seemed like he was trying to make you faint by giving so much to you, you could barely deal with it all that. Your entire body bristle and your eyes even watered a little. From how well you were stretching for him, Dazai guessed that it was a matter of time before you came around him and the simple idea of it made his member throb inside you, he was close too.

With the slight sound of a 'pop' he left your nipple to start sucking the other, he was becoming messy again, he cover your breasts with his saliva and his thrusts became clumsier, he was almost reaching his limit, was closer than he would like to admit, so he continued with a more unpredictable rhythm, rearranging your guts as he pleased.

Dazai couldn't help but think that maybe pleasure was the apple that God told Adam and Eve not to eat. Perhaps the fruit was nothing more than a metaphor for the other's body, but for them the exquisite view in front was too tempting, the snake could simply be the representation of the lust that was in them, of the desire to sinfully touch the other for more than only reproductive purposes. At this point nothing makes more sense than abandoning paradise for this kind of overwhelming, delicious, sinful joy.

You started panting heavily, your vision blurring slightly thanks to the tears that fell from your eyes, there were only two but they held so much satisfaction that they were proof of how much Dazai wanted you to look at him the way you looked at Chuuya, all the pleasure he gave to your body was the fair and necessary proof that what he had said was not a joke at all.

A high pitched moan escaping inevitably from your lips was the prelude to your orgasm, although you knew it was coming, it caught you by surprise taking complete control of your body, causing your eyes to narrow, your legs tightened around his waist imprisoning him, holding him close as your walls clenched hard around his member, covering him with your fluids and triggering his own orgasm, barely giving him time to get out of you. The brunette let out a grunt and pulled out of you in one quick movement, coming into your stomach, covering your skin with thick ropes of his cum as he panted, almost complaining about having to leave your warm interior.

"I have to say, you are addictive Belladonna." He smirk and winks at you with a loving and tired expression plastered on his face.

You chuckled at his comment, too tired to say a word as you tried to compose yourself after your climax.

Dazai threw his head back while breathing heavily, he looked exhausted, beads of sweat had accumulated on his forehead and his hair was completely messy but he looked more relieved and alive than ever. His eyes were on the starry sky as he gathered the energy to move, which took him a couple of minutes.

You didn't think you would say this, and you probably wouldn't really say it out loud, opening your mouth to admit that Dazai Osamu had turned your entire world upside down was giving him too much power over you that he couldn't possess for one simple reason, it would raise his ego and God have mercy on the Port Mafia if that happens. Although you didn't admit it, you did ask him for a favor, to keep this between you two and although he assure you that his lips were sealed, nothing would stop him from bragging a little without giving too many details.

"Oi, Chuuya" Dazai hummed, lengthening the 'a' as he entered the blue-eyed man's office where the two of you were reviewing the details of a mission.

The redhead rolled his eyes, not wanting to even speak to him at this moment since his head was hurting already, he just massaged his temples and pointed to the door as a way of telling him to get out, something the brunette clearly had no intention of doing.

"I have a question, have you ever fucked?" The indiscreet question from the youngest leader of the Port Mafia not only made you almost choke on your own saliva but also made Nakahara automatically look at him with hatred, he didn't know where this was going but he knew beforehand that it would irritate him.

"What the hell is that question about, Mackerel?" Chuuya barks at Osamu, both confused and annoyed by the brunette's unnecessary and clearly unexpected interruption.

"I was just curious, I thought maybe your anger problems are because you need to release some tension with a woman... or a man, if that makes my dog happy so be it." said the one with brown eyes, letting himself fall carelessly into one of the chairs in front of the gravity manipulator's desk. "There is nothing more satisfying than directly seeing the pleasure in the eyes of the person you make love with, don't you think?"

Although Dazai was talking to Chuuya you could feel that he was directing his words to you, he had a malicious smile as if he enjoyed indirectly showing off to the redhead in his own way what he had done. It was Dazai's way of giving the blue-eyed man a small clue that he intended to steal you from him.

something permanent pt 13 ♡ yandere!leon kennedy x reader

nsfw (18+) - minors. i stg. do not interact or i will call the cops

reminder that this is a dark fic, if any of the following bothers/triggers you, do not read: yandere!leon kennedy, kidnapping, forced daddy kink, forced breeding, pregnancy, non/dubcon

in other words, dead dove: do not eat !!! u have been warned and u are responsible for ur own media consumption.

chapter index: pt. 1, pt. 2, pt. 3, pt. 4, pt. 5, pt. 6, pt. 7, pt. 8, pt. 9, pt. 10, pt. 11, pt. 12

'something permanent’: the spotify playlist

word count: 8k

description: it seems a little time apart did leon and darling some good. darling wonders if it's too good to be true.

tags/warnings: yandere!leon kennedy, fem/afab!reader, no use of (y/n), kidnapping, forced daddy kink, forced breeding, pregnancy, pet names (princess, angel, dolly, pup/puppy, etc.), angst, paranoia, some religious allegory, oral (f receiving), vaginal fingering, vaginal sex

a/n: note that i've moved the taglist to the bottom of the post to reduce clutter <3 anyway i'm honest to god so proud of this chapter like my heart is pounding right now just getting ready to post it. i'm really looking forward to hearing what everyone thinks and feels after this one, and i could go on about it, but i'll leave the author's note here for now ;w; pls enjoy <3

my masterlist ♡

my ao3 ♡

fic under the cut, thanks so much for reading and i hope u enjoy !!

It wasn't at all difficult for Leon to talk his way into some time off after what happened in San Francisco- - the D.S.O. owed him big time for the damages to his Ducati and his psyche, and with the nightmare of a cover-up they already had on their hands as a direct result of an incident like that occurring on U.S. soil, Leon was the last of the government's concerns. For once, that worked out in his favor. 

Naturally, every spare second of time he now had was spent attached to you like a leech... often more literally than figuratively. 

"F-Fucking Christ," Your jaw unhinged in a needy cry, hot tears leaking from your eyes which had been rolled far back in your lids for a while now, a length of time you couldn't possibly approximate if you tried. 

Your arms were shaking with strain as you reached over your taut, pregnant belly to claw at Leon's hair, yanking him closer, desperate to soothe that nagging ache of desire that had plagued you constantly as of late. He had one broad hand pinning your left thigh to the bed while the other alternated between gripping at your hip and smoothing over your bump. 

Pulling away from your cunt to gasp for air, his lips rosy and swollen and gleaming with you, Leon's fingertips printed hard into your skin, but never enough to hurt. "God, look at you," He mused, trailing a line of wet kisses from the hood of your clit to the highest point of your round belly. "Really popped while I was gone..." 

In the absence of his mouth, his calloused fingers sank deep into your hole, feeling absolutely no resistance with just how deliciously slippery you were. 

Spreading your legs as far as he could with one hand otherwise occupied, Leon ground the heel of his palm against your engorged clit while pumping in and out of you, nipping at the plush, warm flesh of your tummy as he cooed, "Aren't you just a pretty little puppy mama, stuffed up nice and full with daddy's baby? Couldn't hide that gorgeous belly anymore if you tried, huh? Poor thing..." 

Something changed between you and Leon following his return from California. Months ago, a statement like that from him would have made you start angry crying. You always used to hate it when he would rub your helplessness in your face just to break you down-- as most people would-- but now it held a certain kind of catharsis to just go along with it. 

Maybe it was because his intentions felt different now, too. Given your pitiful track record, you didn't feel comfortable asking him what happened while he was gone, but you had gathered that something happened to shake him. 

He was clingy to begin with, became even clingier when you got pregnant, and now he was tightening his grip again. Except this time, it didn't feel quite as aggressive or controlling as usual, it felt desperate. It felt fearful, but it also felt relieved, like kissing the tarmac after a particularly turbulent flight. 

Worse yet, your demeanor toward him wasn't much different. At this point it didn't seem as though he knew about your outing, and for as sweet as he had been since the second he returned home, you were terrified that he could somehow find out and snap at any moment. 

So, you threw everything you had into gaining his good favor, proving to him that you were a good, obedient pup who would never dare take advantage of his trust in you to do something so stupid and dangerous, and maybe then, if he were to find out, you could preemptively soften the blow. Maybe he would see that you had learned your lesson, that you corrected your behavior on your own and understood the error of your ways, that you understood the importance of following daddy's rules and had long since learned the hard way never to question him again. 

It ate you alive a little bit to keep it from him, for fear that your failure to be honest with him might come back to bite you later, but you didn't feel particularly inclined to walk yourself into a punishment over a mistake you had absolutely no intention of ever repeating, either. 

Your vision blurred white as his tongue slipped back down to flutter over your clit, his long, thick fingers reaching deep into your guts to untangle the delicate thread of your arousal. He was groaning in response to the flavor of your essence, the vibration sounding through your whole body and carrying electric pops of pleasure with it, your own wanton cries melting in with the chorus of wet noises that accompanied his devouring of you. 

"Fuck, you're so fucking perfect," Leon panted into your folds before stooping forward to seal his lips over your bud once more, drinking you in with an obscene slurp. "My blushing, breeding bride..." 

"Daddy," You cried out, voice light and airy with need as you rutted up toward his face and devolved into mindlessly repeating yourself, "Gonna cum, gonna cum, g-gonna cum..." 

He chuckled, hooking his fingers inside you abruptly just to send your poor, dumb little puppy brain spinning out and to coax more of those precious noises from you. "Oh, are you?" He teased. "Are you gonna make a pretty little mess all over daddy's fingers, darlin'? Gonna give daddy something sweet to lick up?" 

He hadn't even finished speaking and you were already nodding, the upward lilt of his tone being the only thing it took for your hazy brain to know you were being asked something, which naturally meant that whatever it was, the correct answer was yes. You weakly tried to grip at his hair again, only to draw an amused puff of laughter from him as he watched you struggle. 

"Can't even reach over that bump now? Oh, poor princess... Looks like daddy bred you up too good, didn't I?"

Whimpering, you nodded, giving up your attempt to grasp at his hair in favor of the simpler option, allowing your shaking hand to rest over your swollen stomach as you came undone. Being seven months pregnant was no fucking joke, as you'd come to learn, and while you'd spent the bulk of your pregnancy so far obsessing over your discomfort with the physical changes, recently your self esteem had very much taken a backseat to all the other bullshit that came along with growing a baby. 

Your boobs hurt. Your back hurt. Your hips hurt. You were waddling more than walking, you couldn't stop crying, you constantly wanted to fuck, and to top it all off, you were beginning to leak strange fluids from your vagina and your nipples on occasion. With everything you had going on, you couldn't possibly handle worrying about your appearance, too-- at least you could sleep at night knowing you never had to worry about giving Leon the ick. 

Writhing and twitching as Leon dragged your orgasm out for as long as he could manage, the room was spinning around you, your jaw dropped in a high pitched cry of his title on repeat until you had no choice but to gasp a breath in. He continued to pump in and out of you down to the knuckles while he sipped from your cunt like a fountain, knowing you could take it-- or rather, that you would take it. 

"One more f'me, doll?" 

A deep, guttural shiver tore through you. It didn't matter whether you were to agree or not, because you knew it wasn't really a question anyway, so you didn't bother giving him a clear answer. You just clawed at the sheets and tried to prepare for what he decided to give you. 

His denim eyes darkened, pupils swallowing up much of the familiar color as he zeroed back in on your dripping sex with fierce determination. Locking his arm around your thigh, he dragged you down the bed until you were pressed flush against his face, the bridge of his nose bumping against your puffy, sensitive clit with the motion. The veins in his bicep rose beneath his skin as his muscles tightened to pin you firmly in place, and then he took off like a wind-up toy car. 

It was like you were watching him surrender control to something other than himself in real time. The fire alarm could have started going off right in that moment and you figured he wouldn't have even flinched, at least not until he'd had his fill of you, not until he'd delivered upon that promise to work just one more from your poor little body. 

"You're always dripping wet when you're being good, baby," He praised, licking his lips salaciously at the taste of you on his tongue as he continued lazily pumping his fingers in and out of your drooling cunt. "I bet you were so horny without daddy around to keep you sated..." Leon unexpectedly withdrew his fingers, admiring how they gleamed with your juices before bringing them up to smear a stripe across the mound of your full stomach. 

But the digits returned almost as quickly as they were withdrawn, stretching you open with a third and sucking your clit up into his mouth simultaneously, silky tongue catching every last little drop of arousal that dared to leak out of you.

Leon groaned softly, his cock twitching eagerly in his boxers. The sight of you squirming on the bed with a puffy bellyful of puppies that he put in you was almost enough to drive him wild-- knowing that he was the only source of relief from your raging lust was enough to drive him insane and then some, fueling his obsession limitlessly. 

"Just beg nice and pretty for daddy, baby. Beg for me to stuff you up with babies so you don't feel alone." He instructed firmly, two fingertips taking an aching pace at your clit as he spoke. 

You didn't usually like giving Leon any wins. It just wasn't your style... or at least it didn't used to be. 

But you did anyway. You writhed and convulsed and shattered practically on command, your vibrating thighs attempting to stick shut around his head as the noises that fell from you melted down into mindless babbles, and unabashed begging. Before that mission, he would have moved to stop your thighs from shutting him out, but not now. Not since everything changed.

A car door opened and shut, a set of keys jingled, the lock clicked, and you couldn’t move, just staring wide-eyed at the door from the base of the stairs as it swung open to reveal your captor, who froze at the sight of you, too.

His duffel bag dropped to the floor beside him, long forgotten in Leon’s mind as he feasted his eyes upon the image of you for the first time in over a month— or at least for the first time since his phone broke. He nearly fell to his knees with relief. 

“Oh, puppy,” He sighed out, tears pricking at his tired eyes, overwhelmed with the insatiable need to feel you in his arms again. In just a few short strides he crossed the distance between you and embraced you so tightly, it was almost crushing. 

Euphoria, pure and uncut, a high unachievable in this universe by any other means. That was the only way Leon could think of to describe what he felt in that moment. 

Pulling back to look at you, he cupped your jaw with one hand while the other pushed its way up beneath your shirt, finally feeling the soft, round warmth of your bump under his hand again, and he almost could have sworn he felt a little kick. He was beaming now, vibrating with excitement, almost at a loss for words entirely. 

Almost. 

“My beautiful fucking wife,” He laughed, a single tear breaching the threshold of his eye to drip down over his reddened cheek. “You’ve grown so much…”

You couldn't argue with him there. It felt like you'd doubled in size since he last saw you, your ripening belly putting every shirt in the house to the test over the several weeks he'd been away, and you weren't even done cooking yet. Not nearly.

Now he really did fall to his knees, and Leon's hands came forward to tug your shirt up, baring your rounded middle to him. In no time at all, his lips were scattering across the smooth surface of your skin like delicate rain, his warm hands cradling either side of your stomach as he hoped to himself that he might feel his child kick again, that he might feel them squirm. His lids fell shut as though he were in a dream, or maybe he was reminding himself that he wasn't.

The entire time you felt like you were holding your breath. You didn't know what to say. You didn't even know how to feel. You couldn't tell if you were going to throw up from relief, or from fear. Maybe from guilt? Regret? 

Or was it just from the root of his progeny in you? You just didn't know, and as the minutes melted away from you, it all began to collapse into itself until your skull became an echo chamber of blaring alarms and racing thoughts and... and... 

"Daddy, I m-missed you," You choked out, one hand coming down to thread into his hair while the other raised up to your mouth, quieting your cries. You weren't even sure if you were just saying that as a defense mechanism, or if you actually meant it, and you couldn't even bring yourself to care. Maybe you did mean it, if only a little. "I-It was so quiet, it was so quiet..." 

"I know, I know, I'm sorry," He spoke against your taut skin, locking his arms around your hips to tug you even closer, his cheek squished up against you. He was well over a week out from his last shave, the gruff shadow on his face tickling you as he continued, "I don't ever wanna have to leave you like that again, baby. Never ever. I'm so sorry--" 

"W-What if you didn't come back?" You cut him off, bottom lip wobbling, "How long was I supposed to wait? What was I supposed to do?" 

He shook his head at this and cut you off firmly, determined to nip that line of thinking in the bud. "Don't say things like that. It didn't happen that way and it's never going to, do you hear me?" 

"W-What even happened?" 

"Do you hear me, puppy?" 

For a moment, you hesitated. Wasn't the whole issue with his job that he had absolutely no power? That there wasn't an assignment he could turn down, or a day he could take off, or a report he could slack on, or an order he could defy? How could he say with any certainty that this wasn't going to happen again? That it might not be worse next time? 

And why did you even care? 

Weeping, you nodded. "I h-hear you. I hear you, daddy."

"Good," Leon's right hand rubbed measured, soothing circles along your belly, subconsciously mapping the feel of your gravidity beneath his palm. He would keep you just like this forever if he had the power to, heavy and radiant with his fruit, though he couldn't wait to meet the growing baby in there, either. It was a constant struggle of the mind. "I don't wanna miss one more second of this."

And as such, he wouldn't. 

"Shit," Leon grumbled under his breath, standing aside to observe the shelf he'd just hung on the wall before turning over his shoulder to gauge your opinion; "Does that look level to you?" 

Humming in thought, you took a step back to get a better perspective. Now able to compare the little white shelf with the rest of the nursery decorations on the pale, lemonade colored wall, it became quite evident why he was concerned-- it might as well have been diagonal. 

"It's pretty skewed to the left, babe," You answered him honestly, one hand perched to support the small of your aching back while the other rested atop your belly. 

Narrowing his eyes in concentration, Leon joined you where you were so he could look at it from your angle, and yeah, it was pretty fucking off. With an exasperated puff of laughter at his own expense, Leon shook his head and approached the wall again to start taking the screws out. "Well, I guess it's a good thing I didn't go into carpentry." 

You laughed too, because he was right. Every last one of those little wall decorations had been a headache to put up, and the furniture was another thing entirely. Just days ago you spent an entire afternoon watching him lose his mind over the incoherent instructions included with the crib you'd begged him to order, hence why it took him half the week to cool off enough to deal with the shelving. 

"Well, if you would just let me try..." 

But he was already shaking his head 'no' before you made it more than three words through that sentence. He gave you an affectionate look of disapproval before reminding you, "Nope, no way. Pretty puppies don't get to play with sharp tools and heavy things." 

You poked your tongue out at him playfully, he poked his right back out at you, and then returned his attention to the task at hand. 

With your input, Leon adjusted the shelf and stepped back to observe it again, nodding in satisfaction only once you did too. "Happy with that?" 

"Maybe," You grinned, "Can I put the stuff up there?" 

Leon raised a brow, "You think you're tall enough to reach?" 

"Probably not... but you could lift me?"

He softened at this. Leon would be a fool to pass you up on such an adorable request, although he couldn't help but give you a deep, playful sigh anyway as he opened his arms to you. "Alright, princess. Hop up." 

You were all too giddy to do so, letting him lift you up by your hips to reach the shelving. One by one, he handed little trinkets off to you for proper placement, his muscles bulging against his shirt but not even shaking beneath your weight. It was equal parts sweet and a reminder of your weakness in comparison to him, which you felt quite numb to by now, for better or for worse. 

Once you had both feet back on the floor, the afternoon melted away in the nursery. With your due date creeping up faster and faster, the preparation felt never-ending, like every time one thing got scratched off the list, another three were added. But in a weird way it was sort of nice-- it gave you both something to do, and whether or not it made sense, you actually worked quite seamlessly together. 

Every onesie, every set of sheets, every furniture piece, every toy, every binky and bottle and blanket had to be washed and sanitized and then washed again, and put into place. If it didn't yet have a place, one had to be arranged for it. Every outlet had to be plugged with safety covers, every cabinet had to be childproofed, every sharp corner had to be padded. As expected, Leon was unwilling to take any risks, and you supposed you couldn't blame him. You didn't really want to take any either, knowing the remainder of your life was about to be judged by your ability to raise Leon's children. 

What else were you supposed to do, though? Leon sucked, the kidnapping sucked, the IUD thing sucked, the pregnancy thing sucked, everything sucked. But unless the universe would decide to cut you a break by smiting Leon where he stood, your situation would remain unchanged for the foreseeable future, and you just had to deal with it. Like it or not, you nailed that coffin shut when you came crawling back home that day. 

And honestly, you still weren't entirely convinced he didn't know you tried to escape. He hadn't said a word about it, he hadn't even alluded to it, but it was still like you physically couldn't stop yourself from overanalyzing his every move just in case. At the same time, you were constantly filtering yourself, playing the perfect princess, strategizing your every word until you couldn't even remember how you felt before you started acting. 

Sometimes you wondered if you even were acting anymore. 

Times like now, as you relaxed in bed together at the end of the busy day, each of you propped up against the headboard and engaged in your own task. Leon was flipping through a book of baby names the size of an encyclopedia while you worked your way through the unnecessarily excruciating crossword puzzle in today's newspaper, your pen slipping into the next box over when a particularly strong kick to your organs caught you off guard.

You let out a barely audible oof, resisting the urge to roll your eyes as soon as the pain dulled-- the first several times you felt your baby moving in there felt like a horror movie, but now that you'd made it well into your third trimester, it was a sensation you'd become quite exasperated with. You weren't a monster, of course, and even you found it sort of cute after a while, just not while you were trying to relax... or focus. 

Or not get kicked in the ribcage, which was most times. 

"You okay?" Leon asked softly, reaching out to rest his hand on your bump. 

"Yeah," You huffed, sitting up a bit to get more comfortable and hopefully soothe the unborn little one, your hand coming to squeeze his own in the process. "She's just training for her black belt or something." 

It came out so easily you didn't even think about it, like discussing the weather. But your phrasing certainly didn't make it past Leon. 

He froze, setting his book aside to look at you in complete bewilderment. "She?"

"What?" 

"Did you just say she?" 

Oh, yeah. Huh. Fuck. 

For a moment you just stared at him blankly, unsure whether you were about to be in trouble, and his expression wasn't really giving you any pointers. Nervously, as you'd come to be conditioned by now, you just blurted out the truth, "Y-Yeah, I did." 

Outwardly, you were frozen just as solid as he was, but inwardly, you were bracing yourself for nuclear fallout. After all, that's what you'd done that for in the first place, right? To irk him? To hurt him? To get under his skin? 

But suddenly you were retroactively regretting that decision. Just as soon as you said it, you were silently drafting an apology, maybe even an excuse. Maybe you could tell him the doctor just said it without even asking. Maybe you could blame it on nothing more than a slip of the tongue-- you just wanted a girl so bad that you must have said it without meaning to... but not even Leon would believe that. 

Right as you were drawing in a breath to respond, Leon spoke first. His gaze was intense with emotion, tipping your chin up so he could meet your eyes and ensure you got a good sense of his elation. "Pretty puppy, are you serious? We're having a daughter?" 

You were glad he forced you to look into his eyes, because what you found there was unexpectedly disarming. It wasn't rage, or betrayal, or authority, like you'd been preparing yourself for. It was vulnerable and adoring, hopeful, like the only reason he even asked was out of fear that the answer might be no, and any expressed excitement would be for nothing. 

"Yeah," The tension in your posture dissolved, "We're having a daughter."

A broad smile set in across his face, his eyes welling with tears as he regarded you with both hands on your belly. Shortly thereafter, you were both surprised by the distinct feeling of your unborn daughter landing a kick beneath his palm, and that really did him in. Leon was all but weeping now, lavishing your baby bump in smooches and happy tears. 

Leon genuinely didn't go into this with a preference on the sex of his first born. He wasn't concerned about 'male heirs' or any of that other macho bullshit. He just wanted his darling wife, and a whole brood of healthy, happy babies. Knowing now that the seed he'd planted and nurtured so lovingly in your womb was growing into a girl, a beautiful baby girl, he felt like he'd just had the wind knocked out of him in the most incredible way. 

A daughter. You were giving him another beautiful angel just like yourself to protect and adore. Christ, he was so overjoyed that he didn't even entertain the idea of asking you why you didn't tell him until now, because he didn't care. He should have been there in the first place instead of letting himself get infected like an idiot, instead of rotting away on the cell block floor at Alcatraz while you were all by yourself learning the sex of your baby. His baby. 

What a fucking let down, He thought to himself. What a complete and utter fucking let down. 

Nearly a year he'd spent trying to convince you he would always be there to hold your hand, that he would take care of anything and everything for you, especially as far as supporting your pregnancy was concerned, and he failed you. You went into this scared to death of him and becoming a mother, yet you placed all of your trust on his promise to ease your burdens, and he failed you. 

You trusted him, and he failed you. His darling little puppy mama, his beloved wife. He could hardly breathe. 

"Y-You shouldn't have been alone," He choked out, lips brushing over the surface of your skin. "My two sweet princesses... I'm so sorry. I-I can barely even think about it." 

Of all the emotions you expected from him in this moment, remorse certainly wasn't high on the list. You couldn't do anything but just watch him at first, stunned, and briefly wondering if he was testing you. But there was no way, right? Leon didn't strike you as the type to be able to cry on command-- he barely even cried when he needed to. Maybe you should just accept the win of getting anything resembling an apology from him. 

You swallowed that paranoia back, having convinced yourself enough to relax for now. Threading your fingers through his hair, noting silently to yourself that he was probably overdue for a cut after his last mission, you attempted to soothe him with his own reassurances to you, "Don't think like that, okay? You're here now, we're all safe, and it's never going to happen again. That's what matters."

He knew you were only saying that to make him feel better, but it melted his heart just as much that you were trying at all. Not long ago, you would have been content to just watch him hate himself. You might have even thought he deserved to.

And you did, of course, just not for this. He had a lot of things to be sorry about, and his scary government job that he had no control over just wasn't one of them. Over the months you'd managed to gather that Leon dealt with a lot of guilt around the people he couldn't save, and probably also the people he'd been forced to hurt. Even if it wasn't technically a direct result of his occupation, you were beginning to realize that what he'd done to you wasn't exempt from that laundry list of regrettable life choices. 

What you felt toward him these days wasn't exactly sympathy... but it wasn't exactly not sympathy. The lines blurred more and more every day, and the further your pregnancy progressed, the less capacity you had to be distraught about it all the time. You had bigger things to worry about, obviously. 

Things Leon would rather worry about too, as you were reminded by the heavy thud of that book tumbling from the bed, propelled by the shifting of the covers. 

Leon crawled atop you, knees perched at either side of your hips on the mattress. Slowly, he slipped his fingers beneath the hem of your nightshirt to draw it up and over your shoulders, laying bare to him all but what lay beneath your panties, and without incident, to boot. 

As you'd come to expect by now, he was pressing feather-light kisses all along the rounded surface of your stomach at the first opportunity. Reaching forward to take your chin between his thumb and forefinger, always careful to ensure he had your full attention, Leon whispered, "Do you like the way your belly looks, sweetheart?" 

Not really, was your immediate thought, but right after that, it was, well... I don't know. Do I? 

Your heart clenched in your chest as you stared down at his hands roaming the swollen surface of your baby bump, committing every square inch to textile memory by feeling along the curve of it, by brushing his lips over the feathery stretch marks that had bloomed there in his absence. To say you didn't like it would be a complete and total understatement, but with Leon scrutinizing your every move in an effort to gauge your emotions, you were having a terribly difficult time finding the right words to speak. 

Finally, you admitted, "Depends on the day." 

Which was true. It tasted bitter on your tongue to give him the satisfaction of even insinuating you enjoyed this, but there were times in which you would gaze at your reflection and pretend to be someone else, and in that removed context, you found the woman in the mirror to be quite the cute little pregnant lady-- but Leon didn't need to know all that.

"It'll be okay," He promised, resting his chin atop your bump and breathing in deep, entranced by the heavenly scent of motherhood that clung to you now. "Before long you'll come to love how beautiful you look with daddy's baby in you."

Stroking gently down your sides, unable to ignore just how obvious it'd become that your breasts and the dips of your waist had filled out with the evidence of his claim over you, Leon's cock was starting to tent up in his boxers. He couldn't get enough of you if he tried, even if you didn't want anything to do with yourself. He would take you all, over and over again, let every rejected piece of you flow over him until his cup runneth over. 

Meanwhile, you were wondering to yourself what 'before long' even meant to him. You were already 30 weeks pregnant and barreling toward your due date. It's not like there was long left for you to come to love it-- most of the time you didn't even like it. 

But the sex was so good. That, even you couldn't deny you'd come to love. 

"Daaaaddyyy," You whined, long and drawn out as the throbbing head of him pushed past your sodden hole, tunneling deep into you with a low groan from the throbbing core of his chest. 

He could barely keep his eyes open, right hand gripping the meat of your thigh to pin you open while the left steadied you at the hip, and the sounds you made were nothing short of heaven to him. The wet suction of you pulsing around him, the incoherent whining and weeping that knocked from your plush lips with every inch you took. 

"You're so damn eager to get fucked aren't you? Poor thing," Leon coaxed you cruelly, even as he could hardly get a breath in himself. There were certainly worse things in the world than having a dedicated partner so keen on servicing you; his possessive nature coupled with your hormonal neediness had turned this unwilling partnership into something undeniably effective and powerful. 

As soon as he was sure you were comfortable, his thrusts picked up pace steadily, and as usual, he couldn't help the way his hand crept up from your hip to your rounded tummy. You looked perfect like this, absolutely perfect, down to the molecule. Such a proper little puppy bearer you were, almost to term with your first litter yet already crying out for more, your swollen tits bouncing, your nails biting into his skin and your eyes rolling back in your head, your pretty pussy clenching around his shaft at half the pace of your beating heart. It was an image he wished he could frame, an image of you that only existed in his mind's eye until now.

"Such a pretty, pretty princess," He mused, bringing his hand away from your belly only to swipe his hair back from his sweat-slicked forehead, and then it was promptly returned to its place with a gentle pat to gather your attention there, to just how big you'd gotten. Every rigid inch of him set your insides on fire, feeding a white hot pit in your core that smoldered through your blood and seeped all the way up to your shrinking little brain like rot. Like an infection.

"D-Don't stop," Your words came out in breathy, stunted, braindead mewls, oh, so fucking braindead. Poor puppy, you were so focused on pleading for him not to stop, you didn't even realize you were cumming already, convulsing, sobbing, cunt sucking his cock in so nice and deep that daring to remove it might as well be considered sacrilege.

And it was to him. Oh, God was it sacrilege to deny you the pleasure you so deserved. Everything he did was for you, for the privilege of spreading you out upon your altar and feeling your holy body accept him, beckon him, cleanse him.

"I'm here, darlin'..." He prayed to you, "I'm right here."

"I fucking knew it. I knew you were guilty as sin," Leon scoffed, tossing his cards on the table in exasperation. Bulging arms crossed over his chest, he shook his head and added, "Colonel Mustard, you conniving piece of shit." 

Your lips parted with a nervous laugh, followed by a slow, discreet exhale to steady your heart again, only when he wasn't looking, of course. Hearing him say things like that just set your fucking teeth on edge, but even with the little spike of anxiety he caused, you had to admit to yourself that it was a bit funny. 

Gathering up the cards on the table, you flashed him a playful smile and asked, "Did you wanna play again?" 

You only looked up from shuffling the deck when you realized he was taking longer than expected to respond. Chillingly, that's when you noticed he was just studying you with an expression of neutrality that gave away nothing about what he was thinking. That rarely ever meant anything good for you. 

Naturally, Leon didn't miss the way your pupils narrowed to pinholes in alert beneath his scrutiny. Perhaps in an attempt to disarm you, he cleared his throat and relaxed, reaching forward to help you reset the game board. Instead of answering your question, however, he asked you one instead. 

"Something on your mind?" 

"No," You replied quickly, "Why?" 

His eyes narrowed just a teeny tiny bit, barely even recognizable if you weren't looking right at him, if you didn't know him well enough by now. Or did he narrow his eyes? Were you just imagining things? 

"You seem jumpy." 

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Immediately, you began to beat yourself to hell for letting your guard down. As far as you knew, you were doing so well. He hadn't suspected a thing for so long, and of course you had to go ahead and fuck it all up for yourself over a game of Clue. 

Taking a shaky drink of water, you swallowed nervously before responding, "Oh. I'm sorry."

And now his eyes were going a bit narrow. When it came to you, a non-answer like that was a pretty solid indicator that you were hiding something, but Leon was beginning to learn that he couldn't scare you off too early with the interrogating-- he needed to take more of a delicate approach if he wanted to get anywhere with you, especially if he wanted to get anywhere with you willingly. 

With a fond, gentle tone and a relaxed posture that he hoped would encourage you to open up, Leon asked, "Sorry for what, pup?" 

Again, your vocabulary, your tongue, your lungs, and your brain were failing you in succession, taking turns lighting up your poor, exhausted neurons like an overloaded switchboard. He sounded sincere, he looked sincere, but... But it's Leon, you still managed to think to yourself, and your heart squeezed tight with every other syllable. Then, somewhere in there, you thought, But... it's Leon. And now you really didn't know what to do.

He had been so kind to you lately. Even you had to admit to yourself that a lot of your hesitation to trust him in the month since he returned was just the product of your own overthinking. You couldn't come up with a single thing he'd done or said to you since he'd been back that would give you any incentive to lie to him. In fact, all that came to mind only proved the opposite. 

He'd been remarkably consistent with rewarding your newfound honesty, even if it wasn't always exactly the kind of honesty he hoped to hear. The fact that you even made the effort at all was proof enough to Leon that you cared to consider his rules, and the fact that you were honest with him even when you knew you might get in trouble meant you trusted him to help you. 

Admit it or not, like it or not, you cared. You trusted him. Your hesitation to answer-- which, to note, was making him sick with anticipation-- proved your inclination for obedience in its own way. Those were sentiments he had to remind himself of as he continued his effort to navigate a conversation despite you not giving him much to work with yet. You were certainly a tough nut to crack, but he'd never felt so motivated to accept the challenge. 

Taking your dainty little hand in a reassuring squeeze, he cooed, "My sweet baby... It's okay. Daddy won't ever be mad at you for telling the truth, you know that, right?" 

Oh dear God, he's laying it on thick.

Your bottom lip quivered as you tried to swallow back the lump beginning to take root in your throat, only to find you could barely even swallow around it. For four weeks he'd been nothing but sweet to you, clearly putting forth a concerted effort to make up for all the attention you should have been getting while he was gone. For four weeks he'd taken the care to alter his own habits and behavior just to prove that you could trust him to adore and support you through anything, and not just you, but your unborn daughter. 

And yet, for four weeks, you'd been lying to him.

All at once you were hit with a sickening pang of guilt that gripped at the centermost part of your gut and twisted it tight. That kindness you'd been enjoying so much was entirely unearned, and the longer you avoided confessing, the more you were taking advantage of him and his belief in you. 

"D-Daddy, I have to tell you something," You spewed, and it was only once you heard the pathetic wobble of your own voice that you realized you were weeping already. 

Truthfully, Leon was caught off guard. He always prepared for some degree of pushback from you, but this wasn't pushback. You were having a meltdown. Thankfully, he had quite a lot of experience with your meltdowns by now, and he had learned all the best places to start trying to pull you back from them. 

So he quickly entered coddling mode. 

"Okay, okay, shh, you're alright," He soothed, standing from his chair to kneel beside yours. One hand on your knee and the other still squeezing your own, Leon looked you in the eye as he continued, "You're okay, baby, you're not in trouble. Whatever it is, we can handle it. I'm just glad you're being honest with me now, right?" 

In your distress, you didn't really pay attention, but had you been as vigilant as you usually were, you might have noticed how strategically selected his every word was in the interest of encouraging you to spit it out without making you feel pressured. Whatever he was doing was working, because you were soaking it up and nodding along like a bobblehead, even trying to match your shuddering breaths to the pace of his own to calm yourself down, just like he'd taught you. 

Just like a good girl would. And all good behavior was worthy of daddy's praise, yeah? 

"There you go, there's my good girl. You're alright, see? Daddy's right here with you, and I'm not going anywhere. Just take your time."

But you'd already taken a month. You should have told him the second he walked through the door that day and saved you both the grief, but you didn't, and for that, you didn't deserve his kindness, you didn't deserve his good graces, you deserved whatever he would have coming to you. All that progress you'd made in controlling your breathing was shattered in an instant, your chest puffing with every sharp, ragged gasp for air.

You had to tell him. You should have already told him, and that was no one's fault but your own. Every moment that you continued to hesitate only made you a worse liar. You had to tell him and you had to tell him right now. Right now, right now, right now, right-- 

"I--" 

Everything stopped. For one dreadful moment that you had no idea would be your most recent memory of comfort for the next several hours, everything stopped.

And then it all started up again. One second you were about to spill your guts about what you did, finally finding the breath to speak, and the next second that very same breath was punched from your lungs by a staggering pain that spread quickly from the root of you and smashed everything it touched to bits. As soon as you were finished choking on thin air, any and all thought about your impending confession was seared out of your brain-- you could only scream. 

Leon went wide-eyed in an instant, clutching your hand and standing to his feet to quickly assess you. He was choking on air too, for once joining you in a momentary inability to speak, purely out of shock and confusion. Your eyes screwed shut and you were curling into yourself in clear agony-- whatever you were about to tell him didn't matter to him either, now. You weren't faking this. 

Taking your face in both hands, trying to get you to look at him, Leon did his best to conceal just how much he was panicking on the inside. He had to be strong for you, he had to be strong for your daughter. 

"Sweetheart, hey, you need to breathe," He spoke calmly, but quickly, smoothing your hair back so he could get a good look at you. "Can you tell me what's going on? What hurts?" 

"E-Everything," You gasped, and he was trying to come up with a nice way to ask you to be more specific when you continued. "M-My back, my hips, everything..." 

You were only able to get a couple breaths in before it happened again, this time with a mounting feeling of pressure taking over your entire lower half. It felt like you were going to pop from the inside if it continued any longer, like your hips were just going to crack and split apart, and it was only then that you realized what this could mean. Little did you know, Leon was connecting the dots too. 

"Okay, pup, I need you to listen to me--" 

"D-Daddy, this can't... t-this can't be happening, this can't be happening, it's too early!" You wailed, taking two fistfuls of his shirt and yanking with all your strength, like you were clawing at him for a solution, teary, fearful, stinging eyes pleading for your daddy to make it all go away. It ground his heart down into a fine, fine dust.

Especially because you were right to be distraught. It was too early, your due date was still eight weeks away, and he wasn't prepared for this to happen any more than you were. But he couldn't let it show.

"Listen to me," He interjected, his tone firm, but not callous. "I know it hurts, princess, and I know you're scared. I'm scared too, but we're gonna get you taken care of, okay? Right now, I just need you to breathe for me."

You nodded, hanging off of his every word in search of guidance, relief, something to hold onto. Staring into each other's eyes, he lead you through your breathing, thumbs tenderly caressing the tears away from your cheeks as they fell. It was like the room was vibrating with you. The few cycles it took to help you to get a handle on your breathing felt like an eternity, but he wouldn't dare proceed until he was sure you were getting some oxygen to manage the pain.

And, truthfully, he needed to think over exactly what to do. Whether or not you were actually going into labor like you both feared, it was abundantly clear that you needed medical attention-- thanks to his neurotic preparedness, there was already a 'go' bag stocked and ready in the nursery, but that meant he would have to leave you on your own for a minute to go get it. In your condition, he wasn't worried you would try anything if left unattended, he just couldn't stand the thought of you in such agonizing pain without him there to hold your hand. 

Unfortunately, it was necessary. 

"I need to run upstairs and grab your bag really quick, and then we'll get you in the car, okay? Just sit tight for a second, and keep breathing for me." 

He didn't wait for you to answer, because he didn't want to give himself the chance to keep hesitating. As soon as he finished speaking he turned on his heel and rushed off. Enough time had burned away already, time you could have spent in the hospital getting the help you needed. 

While Leon was upstairs, you were writhing in your chair at the table, one hand grasping at the edge of it as the other clutched weakly at your belly. Somehow you were actually managing to maintain the pace he'd set for your breathing, if only because that was the one thing you could stand to focus on while terrified and crying by the unwavering pain. 

It only felt like you blinked twice before he was pounding down the stairs, diaper bag stuffed to capacity with supplies and slung over his shoulder. Scooping you up into his arms, he quickly moved to cross the house and get you to the car, the distance between your seat at the dining table and the front door feeling like lightyears... especially when you wrenched your arms around him tightly, planted your slick forehead against his chest and screamed, a gush of watery, reddish liquid spilling out from between your legs and dribbling down the front of his jeans.

That piece of evidence, neither one of you could deny. Ready or not, at just 32 weeks, you were going into labor.

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Cameras

~Leon Kennedy x fem! Reader~

Word count combined for both parts one and two: 8277

PART TWO

Content warnings: smut, sexual content, stalker leon, obsessed leon, male masturbation times 2, female masturbation, panty sniffing, nude taking, breaking into readers place, exhibitionist seemingly unknowingly but knowingly both times, voyeurism? maybe, reader and leon never actually talk

!!!!!MINORS DNI! GHOSTKENNEDY IS STRICTLY 18+!!!!!!

Keep reading

I am a "simper" creature :3

I fall for Sanemi... EKHEM

Sooooo.... I would like to request a SMUT fic with him.

The reader is smaller and weaker, and it seems like he doesn't like her because of that. He is all annoyed and angry... BUUUT... It turns out he simply WANTS her... JUST GIBE ME A SMUT PLS!

Warnings: smut w/o plot, dom!Sanemi, possessive Sanemi, a bit of dirty talking Synopsis: because Shinazugawa-dono appears to have a problem with your every move, you're quite reluctant when tasked with changing sheets in all the Hashiras' rooms, particularly the Wind Hashira's room

DEMON SLAYER MASTERLIST

In the Ubuyashiki mansion, amidst the clanging swords of Hashiras who were training, mastering their skills, and rushing footsteps of other demon slayers, you lived a life of humble servitude. A small, delicate figure, you were often overlooked, except by one: Sanemi Shinazugawa, the Wind Hashira. You worked tirelessly around the Ubuyashiki mansion. Your duties were humble, but essential.

His gruff demeanor and constant irritation with your presence made you wary of him, always trying to avoid his scathing gaze and harsh words. The powerful demon slayer seemed to take issue with your every breath.

One day, as you were cleaning the corridors, Sanemi stormed past, his purple eyes narrowing at the sight of you. "What are you doing here?" he growled, his voice echoing off the walls.

You stuttered an apology, your heart pounding in your chest, and hurried away.

Days turned into weeks, and each encounter with Sanemi left you more flustered than the last. You couldn't understand why he seemed so agitated around you.

Occasionally, you mustered the courage to glance in his direction, marveling at his imposing presence. Yet, whenever he caught you looking, you swiftly averted your gaze.

One fateful night, you were assigned to clean the Hashira rooms. As you approached Sanemi's door, your heart pounded in your chest. You knocked once, twice, but there was no response. You took a deep breath, pushed open the door, and stepped inside. The room was dimly lit, and you could hear the soft rustling of fabric.

Suddenly, a strong arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you close. "What are you doing in my room?" Sanemi's breath was hot against your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

You gasped, your heart racing, as his other hand was placed to your hip.

"I don't recall granting you permission to enter my chamber," he snarled from behind, causing you to stiffen.

All you could manage was a hard swallow as you desperately sought a suitable apology. "Sanemi-sama, I apologize for the intrusion, but I received orders to change the sheets in all the Hashiras' rooms," you explained, gasping slightly. His hot breath brushed against the nape of your neck as he pushed your hair to your shoulder.

He spoon you around, his hand reaching out to cup your cheek. The roughness of his palm against your soft skin left a burning sensation in its wake, and you gasped yet again. His muscular frame towered over you, and his strength was evident in every slightest movement of his. "Why are you always looking at me?" he growled, his voice deep and rumbling.

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest. "I can't help it," you whispered, your voice barely audible as you lowered your gaze. "You're… you're just so strong, Shinazugawa-dono."

His eyes narrowed, and for a moment, you thought he would lash out at you. Instead, he stepped even closer, sizing your chin so you looked into his purple irises again, his gaze never leaving yours. "You think that's all I am?" he asked, his voice softer than before.

You shook your head, your breath hitching in your throat. "No, I… I don't. I just… I can't help but admire you, Sanemi-san."

He leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear. "Is that so?" he murmured, his voice sending shivers down your spine. "Then perhaps it's time I showed you just how strong I can be."

Sanemi's strong arm encircled your waist, pulling you close. His lips found yours in a heated kiss, a fire igniting between you. His breath was hot against your skin as the kiss broke, his scent intoxicating. "I saw every glance you sent my way," he murmured, his voice a deep rumble.

His words sent a shiver down your spine, your heart pounding in your chest. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, his desire palpable. He traced his fingers down your arm, sending goosebumps rising on your skin, before he moved them to the hem of your shirt, slowly lifting it over your head.

And you never protested.

His eyes drank you in, his gaze hungry as he admired your bare skin and the curves of your breasts still covered with white bra, his rough fingertips traced down your exposed shoulders and moved to rest on your waist.

Logical reasoning abandoned you in a heartbeat when the Wind Hashira touched you like that. It was against all reason, yet it felt undeniably right at the moment. You let out a soft moan, your hands reaching for him, fumbling with the buttons of his shirt.

"Oh, Y/N, look at ya," Sanemi chuckled darkly. He helped you, discarding his crips white shirt in haste. His muscles rippled under your fingertips, his skin hot to the touch. He kissed you again, his tongue darting into your mouth as his hand found the clasp of your bra, freeing you from its confines with ease and expertise.

He led you to his bed, his eyes never leaving yours. He pushed you down gently, his body covering yours. His clothed cock pressed against your thigh, undeniably hard and ready. He trailed kisses down your neck, his hands exploring all the curves of your body, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

You gasped quietly.

His hand slid down your body, his fingers finding the hem of your dress and pushing it up. His fingers found your clit instantly.

You gasped again, your back arching off the bed as he circled it, his touch sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. He slid a finger inside you, his thumb continuing to work your clit.

You could feel yourself growing wetter, your body begging for more. "Sinazugawa-dono…"

"Call me Sanemi already. Done this enough by now, so enough with the formalities, especially when I' fingering your pretty, tight cunt." Sanemi grinned agains your inner thigh, watching how your cunt sucked his finger deeper inside. "Well, Y/N, I would never have assumed that you're such a needy little thing," he cooed.

The scent of his sandalwood cologne hung heavy in the air as Sanemi leaned over you, whilst his fingers were expertly exploring your cunny.

A soft moan escaped your lips, a testament to the pleasure that coursed through your veins.

His touch was skilled, each caress sending waves of ecstasy crashing against your shore. He leaned forward and claimed your lips, scissoring his thick fingers within your pussy, making your legs tramble.

Sanemi's bedsheets bore the evidence of his own desire. His hips moved in rhythm with his fingers, the friction against the sheets a feeble attempt to sate the burning need within him. His hakama pants, once a symbol of his discipline, now served as a prison for his arousal, the bulge unbearable, and you couldn't help yourself but lick your lips at the sight.

Seeing his plight, you reached out, your hands trembling with anticipation. Fumbling with the belt that held his pants in place, you dared to look directly into his eyes.

Sanemi's eyes met yours, a wicked grin spreading across his face. He leaned in, his breath hot against your ear, "Do you want to help me, doll?"

You nodded, your breath hitching as you finally managed to undo the belt. With a swift movement, you pulled down his hakama, revealing the object of your desire. Sanemi's cock stood proud, straining against the fabric of his underwear, and when his fingers pushed into you again, you felt how wet you became.

With a swift motion, he pushed his underwear down, releasing his throbbing member. It stood proudly against his toned abdomen, already twitching with anticipation.

You watched, your eyes dark with desire, as Sanemi took his fingers out of you and licked them, humming at the taste of your arousal. His eyes never left yours as he plunged his fingers back into you, fucking you with a rapid rhythm.

"Aaah," you moaned, your voice barely above a whisper. "Sanemi…"

His name spoken in your soft tone was like a siren's call, pulling him deeper into his game of lust. He pulled his fingers out again, coated in your slick wetness, and used it to jerk his dick a few times. His eyes, dark and intense, never left yours. He looked at you like a predator would eye its prey, and you found yourself wanting nothing more than to surrender to him.

Sanemi quickly tugged your dress down your legs. He reached out, his fingers brushing against the soft fabric of your panties. With a single, swift motion, he pulled them down too, leaving you completely exposed to his gaze. "Fuck, Y/N, you're beautiful," the scarred man commented, grinning.

"Sanemi," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the sound of your own ragged breathing.

"Say my name again," he demanded, his fingers teasing your clit again. "Say it like you mean it."

"Sanemi," you moaned, your back arching as he plunged a finger inside you again; his cock twitched and a single pearl of pre-cum appeared on its slit.

"Just like that," he praised, smirking at you. "You're mine."

You opened your mouth to protest, but his lips crashed against yours, silencing any objection you might have had.

His kiss was possessive, his tongue claiming your mouth with a ferocity that made your knees weak. Sanemi positioned himself between your legs, his cock nudging at your slick entrance. He looked into your eyes, his gaze possessive. "You're mine," he repeated, before he thrust into you.

Your breath hitched in your throat as he filled you, his cock stretching you deliciously. He was big, bigger than you had ever imagined, and you moaned in pleasure as he filled you to the brim.

He began to move, his thrusts deep and powerful, his heavy balls hitting your slit with each thrust.

You cried out, your nails digging into his back as he began to fuck your pussy.

You could feel every inch of him, your body responding to his touch. You wrapped your legs around his waist, urging him on. "Harder," you gasped, your body aching for release.

He obliged, his thrusts becoming more frenzied. "You're so small, so tight," he murmured, his voice filled with awe. "I could lose myself in you."

You moaned in agreement, your body moving in perfect rhythm with his. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the air, mingling with your moans and cries of pleasure. "Yes, right there," you cried out, as his tip hit that perfect spongy spot. Your pussy was painfully stretched, but you didn't mind.

Each thrust was a testament to Sanemi's strength, his pace fast and hard, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your veins.

But Sanemi wanted more, his lust insatiable. His voice, a deep rumble, commanded you to wrap your legs tightly around his waist. With ease, he lifted you, his cock nestled comfortably in your tight cunt, a perfect union of bodies as he got up from his bed.

You clung to him, your fingers digging into his broad , scarred shoulders, your breath hitching as he began to fuck you while standing. Each thrust was a display of dominance, his cock hitting all of your sweet spots with precision. His pace quickening, his cock moving within you with a fervor that left you gasping for air.

The scent of sex hung heavy in the air.

"Faster," you begged, your nails digging into his shoulders. "Faster, Sanemi."

Sanemi's grip on your waist tightened as he fucked you, his movements fast and brutal. Each drive sent a jolt of pleasure through your body, your moans growing louder with each passing moment. His free hand reached up, tangling in your hair as he pulled your head back, exposing your neck to his lips. His teeth grazed your skin, eliciting a moan from deep within your throat. "Mine, mine!" Sinazugawa growled like a wild animal.

The man easily tossed you up and down his fat cock as he continued with forceful, quick pace.

"I'm going to cum," you whispered, your body trembling on the edge of ecstasy. "Oh my Lord, I'm going to cum!"

"Do it," he growled, his fingers digging into the meat of your ass as he pounded up in your cunt. "Cum for me, little Y/N."

And you exploded around him, your body shaking in pleasure as your pussy clamped around his throbbing member. Instinctively, you slipped your hand into his snow-white hair, pulling the spiky strands.

He followed you over the edge, his cock pulsing inside you as he filled you with his cum.

Yet he continued to thrust into you, his movements growing more erratic.

You could feel your second orgasm building, your body tense with anticipation. "Sanemi," you gasped, as you felt yourself tip over the edge. Your body shook with pleasure, your muscles clenching around him as he lay you down on his mattress again, thrusting deeper in your wetness, hooking your legs over his shoulders to change the angle.

He followed soon after, his cock pulsing deep inside you as he found his own release for the second time, milking your clenching, drenched walls with his thick cum. He collapsed on top of you, his breath hot against your neck. "Mine," he murmured again, his voice soft and content.

Slwoly, he withdrew his dick out of your pussy. He watched with a mixture of awe and pride as his release poured out of you, dripping down your slit and onto his sheets. A satisfied grin spread across his face, his eyes still locked onto yours. "Fuck, what a mess," he mused, and your cheeks flushed.

"I apologize," you whispered, but your words were sealed with the kiss he bestowed upon you – a kiss that proved to be the softest you had ever experienced in your life.

Sanemi rose, seemingly unfazed by his nakedness, and reached for some sheets from the bed to clean his cock, covered in your mixed releases. Throughout, his gaze remained locked with yours. After throwing the sheet onto the wooden floor, he proceeded to put on his hakama pants. "It seems you've arrived just in time to change my sheets to fresh ones, Y/N."

additional tag: @mrskokushibo - because I know you like Sanemi

there’s something about seeing big, strong, scary copy nin kakashi on his knees, lapping desperately at your cunt that drives me crazy.

you weren’t expecting him to drop to his knees practically the second you both walked through your front door. one of his hands coming up to pull his mask down, the other pushing your dress up until it was pooling around your stomach, giving him the perfect view of the black thong you had on underneath.

he’s in so much of a hurry that he doesn’t even bother pulling them down your legs, instead, he takes one of your legs and lets it rest on his shoulder, two of his fingers pushing the thin material off to the side.

kakashi whines when your bare cunt is finally exposed, its high pitched and desperate, a sound that he’ll only ever allow you to hear slip past his lips. he pushes his face into your pussy, and takes a deep breathe, inhaling your intoxicating scent before his tongue is poking out from between his lips and he's licking a long stripe from your tight entrance all the way up to your puffy clit.

“mmm kashi—” you gasp when he places a soft kiss to your swollen nub, hands instantly tangling in his silver strands and giving an experimental tug. he’s hard as a rock, his thick cock remains ignored, straining against the fabric of his underwear, kakashi’s too busy trying to push his face deeper into your cunt to worry about himself right now.

"fuck baby, you taste so fucking good." he has to force his face away from your heat, gasping for air before he's diving right back in, tongue lapping at your clit over and over, warm and wet, and just the right amount of pressure that has the one leg your standing buckling under the pleasure that surges through your body.

he licks his way back down to your fluttering entrance, tentatively pushing his tongue into the tight hole.

"fuckkk kakashi— feels s'fucking good" you moan as you begin grinding your cunt harder against his face.

he lets the hand that’s not holding your panties to the side slip down to find his aching cock, palming himself over his pants to try and relieve some of the pressure from being ignored for so long.

kakashi lets his eyes flutter shut as he loses himself to the pleasure. he lets you guide your messy cunt back and forth against his tongue, lets you use him to chase the orgasm he knows is approaching.

long fingers fumble with the button on his pants, quickly undoing it and pushing them down enough to allow his cock to spring free, his long, fat dick slapping against his stomach.

he wraps his hand around the base, stroking himself slowly, trying not to cum to quickly, but the feeling of your clit against his tongue has him close already.

"gonna cum" you warn him. all he can do is moan in response, the ironclad grip you have on his hair preventing him from doing anything else.

it doesn't take long, seconds later your crying out, cumming on kakashi's tongue, coating his pretty face in your essence.

kakashi cums seconds later, fisting his cock hard and fast as he paints the floor beneath you white with his seed.

kakashi doesn't bother to warn you before he's picking you up bridal style and carrying you towards your bedroom, tossing you down gently on the bed.

"i'll clean that up later" he says as he crawls between your legs.