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Summary — Seeing his daughter stand in the corner with the world’s most dramatic pout on her face, Leon’s heart instantly melted beneath his ribs. Naturally, he decided to take matters into his own hands and convince her mother; his wife, aka you to let her go.
But, things didn’t exactly go according to plan, because somehow the DSO agent himself ended up standing in the corner right beside his daughter… with fifteen extra minutes added onto his punishment for “interfering.”
Yet as you watched your husband and daughter quietly giggling together while supposedly being punished, warmth spread through your chest despite yourself, and in that moment, you realized your family was absolutely adorable and ridiculously yours.
note : the idea is inspired from reels that has been going around where "daughter is being punished" and dad comes to her rescue just to get the same punishment too xD
“Fiiiiine,” Luna dragged the word dramatically, the pout on her tiny face growing bigger as she stomped her little feet all the way toward the corner of the living room while clutching her teddy bear tightly against her chest like she had been sentenced to prison instead of a timeout. As she finally reached the corner she stood there dramatically facing the wall.
you had to physically bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from laughing. Like cmon’ who can resist those red puffy cheeks, formed in dramatic pout. You absolutely could not.
She looked adorable.
And your heart instantly squeezed painfully beneath your ribs from how much you loved her.
But no. Nope. No. Absolutely not.
This adorable menance child had been told at least seven times not to draw on the walls, and yet somehow the living room currently had a giant crayon drawing stretched across it anyway.
The funny part? The drawing looked suspiciously familiar. You sighed deeply and crouched near the wall with a wet duster in your hand, beginning to wipe away Luna’s latest act of artistic rebellion.
“She is exactly like her father,” you muttered under your breath, as you started to rub the walls with the duster.
Right on cue; as if Leon across the city heard his daughter getting punished, he came home.
The floorboards creaked softly behind you, and before he even spoke, you already knew Leon was home. Then came his voice “Hey, honey—” Warm and smooth that slipped straight past every barrier around your heart, making something deep in your chest squeeze painfully with familiar warmth.
“DADDY!” Luna gasped dramatically from the living room corner like a victim finally seeing her rescue arrive.
You immediately pointed the duster toward Luna without turning around. “Nope. Stay there.”
Luna groans immediately and before you could form any other sentence; Leon walked fully into the living room looking completely confused, car keys still dangling from his fingers. “Wow, okay… what exactly is happening here?”
You continued scrubbing the wall without turning to look at your husband. “Your daughter is being punished.”
“Honey, our daughter,” Leon corrected automatically.
You snorted instantly. “Not today, today she is your daughter.” you dramatically emphasised the word “Your”.
Leon blinked once and twice; then you stopped wiping the wall and turned slightly to look at him; and you realize he looked ridiculously good for a man who was out in danger; his blue eyes were locked on yours as he gave you a biggest grin before looking toward Luna who was standing sadly in the corner hugging her teddy.
And the moment Leon’s eyes landed on his daughter, you instantly knew you were doomed. His entire expression softened almost immediately, blue eyes melting with warmth as he looked at her standing dramatically in the corner. Leon Scott Kennedy had absolutely no resistance when it came to his daughter as he pocketed his keys. “Aw, c’mon,” he complained softly pushing the keys deeper inside his pocket, “Why’s she in the corner?”
“Because,” you replied slowly, turning your attention back towards the wall as you start wiping it again but god the stains were as stubborn as your husband; “someone decided the living room needed redecorating.”
Leon frowned slightly before his eyes drifted toward the wall. His brows narrowed at the scene but as he took in the drawing and all he could mutter was, “…Oh.”
The wall was covered with giant crayon drawings stretched messily across the paint. Basically there was a stick figure who had blond hair, and in his hand a very large gun; and big sunglasses on him covering his eyes; oh she also added a stupid grin that your husband always wore.
Exactly that was your husband; drawn by your six year daughter.
Leon stared at the drawing for a second too long before his shoulders suddenly twitched, and then he started laughing almost instantly.
“Oh, this is—” he exclaimed excitedly, clearly far too impressed by the situation.
You narrowed your eyes immediately. “Don’t.”
Leon looked at you innocently. “I didn’t even finish my sentence.”
“Don’t you dare help her,” you warned, pointing the duster at him with exaggerated strictness despite the smile threatening to betray you.
Luna slowly turned her head from the corner. “Daddy?” she called softly, her tiny voice so pitiful it made your chest ache with sympathy, forcing you to quickly turn your attention back toward the wall before your resolve completely crumbled.
Leon at his daughter's voice walked closer toward her before crouching slightly beside her dramatically. “Yeah, baby?”
“I’m innocent.” Luna complained.
“Mhm, sure” you mutter under your breath.
Leon coughed into his fist to hide his laugh, then whispered toward Luna like he was part of a secret FBI operation. “So, you drew me?”
Luna whispered loudly back, “Yes.” “With your gun and sunglasses.”
Leon voice turned impressed as he pointed toward the wall proudly. “That’s actually kinda—”
“Leon.”
“—detailed,” he finished weakly.
You slowly stood up from the floor holding the wet duster in your hand while staring directly at your husband.
Leon immediately raised his both hands slightly. “Okay, in my defense—”
“There is no defense.” you said.
“She captured me perfectly!” Leon exclaimed.
“She vandalized the wall.”
Leon looked toward Luna again. Luna looked back at him with the saddest expression she could possibly create.
As you see them exchange unsaid words you realized it was absolute manipulation. GOD. These two truly shared the same DNA.
Leon sighed dramatically. “Honey… maybe let her off with a warning?”
You stared at him and scoffed, “You know what?” you said.
Leon immediately knew that tone. “…What?”
“You can stand there too.” you said firmly.
Leon blinked at you in confusion. “What!?”
“You heard me.” you said crossing your arms in front of your chest.
Luna gasped loudly from the corner. “DADDY’S GETTING PUNISHED TOO!?”
Leon pointed at himself in disbelief. “For what!?”
“For interfering.”
“I was negotiating!”
“You were encouraging her!”
“She’s creative!”
“She drew you on the wall!”
Leon looked genuinely touched and smiled turning towards Luna, and speaking proudly “That’s my girl.”
“Corner. Now. Leon. Scott. Kennedy”
Leon stared at you like you had personally betrayed him, but he also knew when you said his full name he was in big; big; trouble.
“That’s insane.” leon scoffed dramatically.
“Nope.”
“This is abuse.”
“You get fifteen minutes.”
“WHAT?!”
Luna giggled from the corner and chirpily said, "Daddy I only got ten!”
Leon placed a hand dramatically over his chest. “This is unfair.”
You raised your brow at leon; “If you want to intervene, then you take the punishment too.”
Luna immediately reached her tiny arms toward him. “Daddy, come here.”
Leon sighed heavily like a man accepting defeat before finally walking toward the corner beside his daughter.
But instead of standing normally and holding her hand; this absolute silly man bent down, and picked Luna up, making her teddy fall onto the floor with a soft thud and slowly leon settled her onto his shoulders.
“Leon!”, you gasped, seeing him picking your daughter.
“What?” he asked innocently while Luna burst into giggles above him, her tiny hands clutching tightly into his blond hair.
“We’re still being punished, mommy,” Luna whispered happily.
“exactly, baby,” Leon whispered back. “But now we are both being punished, the more the merrier.” Leon chuckles grimly, as he says that.
You stared at them quietly in utter disbelief, the two of them standing in the corner. Luna giggling uncontrollably. Leon trying not to laugh at himself.
Both of them acting like the timeout corner was some kind of family bonding experience. While you crouched there again; wiping the rest of the crayon off the wall, occasionally glancing at both of them; and your chest softened painfully at the sight before you.
Your husband standing there with your daughter perched on his shoulders. Her little laughter filled the room.
Leon glances back at you with the tiniest smile tugging at his lips as he mouths; “I love you, honey”, like you surprised him with something precious he always wanted and despite the “punishment." They both were actually happy.
And despite yourself, you shook your head as a quiet laugh slipped past your lips, your heart filling with a kind of warmth and love that felt almost too big to hold inside your chest.
“Fine,” you sighed softly and stood up; turning your attention towards them. “Punishment’s over.”
The second the words left your mouth, Leon grinned triumphantly before lifting Luna off his shoulders and pulling her tightly against his chest, making her burst into happy giggles. Then slowly, the two of them made their way toward you together.
And the moment they reached you, Leon didn’t hesitate. One arm stayed wrapped securely around Luna while the other slid around your waist, pulling you into him effortlessly until all three of you melted together in one tangled embrace. Instantly, Leon’s familiar scent surrounded you, warm woodsy cologne mixed with the lingering cold from outside, so achingly familiar it made your chest tighten.
Luna laughed softly between both of you while her tiny arms wrapped around your shoulders, and Leon rested his chin lightly against the top of your head for just a second. And in that moment, holding both of them close like this, you realized something that settled deep into your soul with absolute certainty.
hii queen can you make a fic of theo finding a cat and it only lets theo pet it and spend time with it. and one day theo sees the cat walking to reader only to find out it’s her cat. and everyone thinks it’s his cat cuz it spends most time in the slytherin common room with him than in hufflepuffs common room
sorry if this is complicated 😭😭😭
𝐇𝐞𝐫 𝐅𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐒𝐥𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧 — 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐨𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐭
SUMMARY: A black cat starts spending every evening in the Slytherin common room. The entire school assumes she's Theodore's. Theodore assumes she's his. The cat disagrees.
The Slytherin common room was unusually peaceful one evening when the portrait hole swung open and a sleek black cat with bright green eyes slipped inside.
Mattheo noticed first.
"Oi, whose cat is that?"
Pansy immediately cooed and reached down.
"Come here, pretty baby—"
The cat dodged her hand gracefully and continued walking like it owned the place.
Enzo tried next, crouching with a friendly smile.
"Here, kitty—"
It ignored him completely.
Draco smirked.
"Clearly has good taste."
He extended a hand.
The cat walked straight past him without a glance.
Blaise raised an eyebrow but didn't even bother trying.
Then the cat spotted Theodore Nott.
Theo was lounging on the couch near the fireplace, reading, when the cat jumped gracefully onto the cushion beside him. Without hesitation, it climbed into his lap, circled once, and curled up with a contented purr.
Theo froze for half a second, then a rare, soft smile broke across his face. He gently stroked the cat's head, and it pushed into his hand happily.
"Well," Theo murmured, amused, "hello to you too."
Mattheo stared in disbelief.
"What the fuck? It rejected all of us and chose you?"
Pansy gasped dramatically.
"Theo's officially a cat whisperer."
From that night on, it became a regular occurrence.
Every evening, the black cat would appear in the Slytherin common room and make a beeline for Theo. It ignored everyone else, even when Daphne tried offering it treats. It only wanted Theo.
And Theo—who had always loved cats but never had one of his own—didn't mind at all.
He started keeping a small blanket on his favorite couch for the cat. He didn't even complain when black fur started sticking to all his hoodies. In fact, he seemed quietly pleased every time the cat showed up.
The rest of the group nicknamed the cat "Theo's Shadow."
One morning, with no classes scheduled, Theo was sitting in the courtyard enjoying the rare winter sunlight when he felt a familiar weight jump onto the bench beside him.
He looked down, surprised.
"You're early today."
The cat meowed and immediately climbed into his lap, purring loudly as Theo scratched behind its ears.
A few Slytherins walking by stopped and stared.
One fifth-year whispered,
"That's Nott's cat, isn't it? It's never out during the day."
Theo just smirked softly and continued petting the cat.
Then a gentle voice called out across the courtyard.
"Bella!"
The cat's ears perked up.
It hopped gracefully from Theo's lap, landed perfectly on all four paws, and trotted happily toward you—a Hufflepuff girl with a warm smile and a scarf in your house colors.
Theo watched, stunned, as Bella rubbed against your legs, purring even louder than she did with him.
You crouched down to pick her up, cradling her against your chest.
That's when you noticed Theo watching.
"Oh," you said, eyes widening in surprise. "She's been bothering you, hasn't she?"
Theo stood up slowly and walked over.
"She's yours?"
You nodded, a little embarrassed.
"Yes. Bella's been disappearing in the evenings lately. I thought she was just exploring the castle. I tutor a fifth-year after dinner, so I let her wander a bit... I didn't realize she was coming to the Slytherin common room."
A few students nearby who had seen Bella constantly with Theo were openly gawking.
One of them blurted out,
"Wait—that's your cat? We all thought it was Nott's. She hates everyone else but him."
You laughed softly, cheeks turning pink.
"She's usually really picky. I'm surprised she chose you."
Theo's gaze softened as he looked at Bella, then at you.
"She has good taste."
You smiled shyly.
"Thank you for being kind to her. Most people get annoyed when she shows up where she shouldn't."
"I don't mind," Theo said quietly. "She's good company."
There was a small, comfortable pause.
You told him your name, shifting Bella in your arms.
"Theodore Nott," he replied, even though you already knew his name. "You can call me Theo."
Your smile grew.
"Well, Theo... it seems my cat has excellent judgment."
Bella meowed in agreement, making both of you laugh softly.
Theo reached out and gently stroked Bella's head one last time. The cat purred happily between you.
"Maybe I'll see you both around more often then," he said, voice low but warm.
You met his eyes, a spark of something new passing between you.
"I'd like that."
As you walked away toward the Hufflepuff common room, Theo stood there for a moment longer, watching you go with a small, private smile on his face.
Bella had chosen him.
And maybe, just maybe, he'd found another reason to look forward to evenings.
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“Blimey, how did this even happen?” Enzo Berkshire whispered from the entrance of the Slytherin Common Room, his eyebrows furrowed at the sight across the room.
“I don’t think even they know, mate,” Blaise Zabini said, the stone entrance wall shutting behind where he stood transfixed, his dark-brown eyes locked on the two entangled dozers.
You and Theodore Nott had both skipped out on dinner for the night, opting instead to work on the Potions essay Snape had assigned the pair of you — which you had both conveniently pushed off for weeks, and immediately regretted once you saw the workload that had been assigned.
Your identical copies of Advanced Potion Making lay open on the small table in front of the fireplace, along with twenty other library books you had borrowed; which Madam Pince would have a right fit about if she saw the notes you had sprawled in the margins.
Somehow, the two of you had ended up curled together on one of the leather sofas in the Common Room, your three-foot essay on Golpalott’s Third Law long forgotten.
Theo’s head was dangling off the arm of the sofa, his brunette curls tousled. Your head was resting on his chest, one hand placed over his beating heart. His arms were locked around you, holding you flush against him, your shallow breaths syncing with one another.
“Should we wake them?” Pansy Parkinson asked, her arms crossed as she stared at your sleeping forms.
“Ah, let ‘em rest,” Mattheo Riddle said, taking a swig from a bottle of Butterbeer he had brought back from the Great Hall for Theo. “Theo’s been having a hard time sleeping for days now, anyway.”
Draco Malfoy smirked, watching as Theo instinctively pulled you closer to him as he slept.
“Someone should go find that little blond stepstool who’s always following Potter around with that camera,” he suggested. “This is way too good to pass up.”
Warnings: smuttt, crying babies, parenthood, everybody's favourite family <3
Summary: You and Leon think it's safe to let loose during sex after you spent the day at the pool, getting all of your kids' energy out. Little do you know your 3-year-old, Ollie, has his own interpretation of the noise he hears.
a/n: So this is actually a combination of a bunch of requests I'm realising. Because in order for Ollie to be old enough to be able to speak, that would also coincide with the time reader and Leon were trying for baby Alva. Also the pool thing fit, but that was Mermaids. Either way, based on this request and can be read as a spin-off to my Cooperative Parenting series.
ENJOY xx
Special shoutout to my dealer @mrswinterbarnes for sharing some fantastic nsfw aeon artwork by @ariespsyche with me that inspired the smut in this. Good fics are a community effort guys!
word count: 2.1k
Masterlist, Sequel
“Oh my god,” Leon moaned, as he pushed into you in this new position. “Oh fuck.”
You cried out his name, holding on to his thigh and his biceps for dear life. “Oh fuck yes, ah—”
The kids had been getting their energy out at the pool all day and were out cold. There was no way anyone in this house would wake up before tomorrow morning, no matter what they heard. So you and Leon were going at it like you’d never get the chance again. In fairness, with two young kids, this was an opportunity that didn't present itself very often. It was too good to pass up.
The soundscape of your bedroom was absolutely obscene. Between skin slapping, panting and loud moans, you had lost your entire sense of self, completely melting into the pleasure Leon was causing you.
You whimpered, as you felt your inner walls clench around him.
“Look at yourself baby,” Leon panted. “You look so fucking pretty.”
You opened your eyes, watching your and Leon’s reflection in the mirror across from your bed. It was hot as hell. You with your head hanging over the edge of the mattress, legs spread wide for Leon to thrust into you and rub your clit at the same time. His handsome face was somewhere between agony and pure bliss, mouth agape, brows knitted together and both of your bodies were covered in a sheen glint of sweat.
You looked absolutely delicious.
“Oh my god,” you moaned, your breath being cut off by Leon slamming into you to the hilt. “Yes, Leon, harder. Oh fuck yes, just like that. Oh fuck.” You cried out again as he did as he was told. He tended to do that when he was balls deep inside you.
Your body was moving further off the mattress, skin slapping against skin becoming even louder as your sex god of a husband pounded into you, setting your every nerve ending on fire, a strangled moan falling from his lips.
You wanted to tell him how good he was fucking you, you really did, but you had lost all speech, you feared. The only thing coming over your lips were uncontrollable moans and screams of pleasure.
Leon whimpered when you clenched down on him again. “Fuck yes, oh just like that, cum for me baby, I love you so much.”
He was so close too, he was trying to drag it out a little longer, so you could have an orgasm so intense it would shake your entire body but he was having an increasingly hard time. You could tell from the way he was gritting his teeth and the strangled noises slipping past his lips. It was music to your ears.
You had married the best man in the entire world. The most generous, sexy, thoughtful, absolute porn star of a man.
“Oh fuck, oh my god, Leon,” you cried out, your fingernails digging into his skin as you came hard enough for your soul to leave your body. The sounds that were coming out of you were worthy of an exorcist. But god was nowhere near you right now, this was all Leon.
He loved how loud and completely helpless to your own climax you were. You could tell. Because his thrusts became sloppy, as he spilled into you with low, guttural grunts, all elegance lost to the intensity of your orgasms.
This was glorious. You rarely had the chance to completely let loose like that and boy had you made the most of it.
When you were finally done, Leon gently pulled you back onto the mattress so you could come down without your head hanging off the bed. How thoughtful. How orgasmic. How absolutely perfect.
“I love you,” you panted, lying next to him, both of you wondering if you had died and were in heaven.
“Yeah, I could tell,” Leon said, breathlessly, a smile playing on his lips. “I’d say you really like me a lot.”
“I do,” you confirmed, pulling him in for a passionate kiss.
“Do you think that got you pregnant?” he asked, still trying to catch his breath, gently placing a hand on your lower belly.
You smiled against his lips. You were trying for a baby. For the first time, funnily enough. This wasn't your first child. You already had two kids but both of them had been unplanned. As much as you loved your surprise babies, you wanted another chance to do it right, tracking your cycle and everything.
You had already been at it for the past several months but there was no second line to be seen on the pregnancy test yet. It was like a cosmic joke. Your reproductive systems apparently only cooperated when you were in fact not actively trying to conceive.
“I don’t know. Maybe we should try again in a bit, just to be sure?”
Leon chuckled. “Give me a couple minutes and I would love to—”
A distraught cry made your heart clench.
“Mama,” a child's voice sounded from across the hallway.
“Oh shit, that’s Ollie,” you whispered, immediately shifting out of sex goddess and into mom mode.
Your youngest was screaming like a banshee, only stopping to hiccup as he was catching the breath he so desperately needed to continue his assault on your ears.
Before you even got up from the bed, Leon had already pulled on a pair of boxers and rushed out the bedroom door.
You took one last deep breath to fully arrive on this plane of existence and shrugged into your robe. Ollie would no doubt stop screaming once Leon appeared in his bedroom door, chasing the monster under his bed away.
But Ollie did not stop. He only screamed louder and more frantically.
“Not you,” he shrieked and you tied the belt around your midsection, rushing down the hallway.
Ollie was completely fixated on you. Ever since he had been born, he was a real momma’s boy. You had also breastfed him for longer than usual because he had a hard time letting you go. But that was okay. If your baby needed you more, then he needed you more. You weren't on other people's timelines. Just like with getting pregnant. This was your family, everything would come together in its own time.
However, Ollie had never full-on rejected Leon like that before.
“Ollie, what’s up? Hey, buddy, it’s okay, I’m here,” Leon cooed softly, trying to pick his son up and calm him down, as he was sobbing and thrashing.
In his distraught state, Ollie sent a forceful kick straight to Leon's jaw. Leon winced, squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath, before backing off and leaving his son to his tantrum.
“Where’s mommy?” Ollie shrieked, hot tears streaming down his face.
“I’m here, baby,” you said softly, crouching down next to his bed. Ollie frantically freed himself from the duvet and flung himself into your arms.
You cradled him against your chest, his face buried in your neck. “Ollie, hey, shhh,” you shushed him, gently stroking his soft curls. “Did you have a bad dream?”
Ollie gurgled and sobbed against the skin on your neck, barely able to compose himself. “No, he was hitting you. Why was daddy hitting you?”
“Your dad wasn’t hitting me, Ollie,” you whispered, pressing a kiss to his head. “You had a bad dream.”
“No, I heard it, you were screaming and he was hitting you,” Ollie insisted, hiccupping again. He was so stressed, his little body was shaking.
Leon’s wide eyes found yours. “Oh no.”
“Uh…” You paused, not quite sure what to say, as your cheeks turned hot, looking at Leon for help.
Leon shook his head, just as lost as you were. He opened his mouth to say something, stopped, closed it again.
Your son was three. He had no idea what was going on. Neither did you want him to. You were mortified that he had heard what you and Leon had been up to. No kid should ever have to hear that.
“Ollie,” Leon said softly, scooting over to you and his son.
Ollie shrieked again, his voice breaking into a sob. “Make him go away.”
Leon looked like he had been slapped across the face.
You softly rocked your son from side to side. You had an idea.
“Leon, can you get his sippy cup?” you whispered and Leon already pushed himself off the floor, disappearing into the kitchen.
“Ollie, I’m okay,” you whispered, taking a deep breath in, your chest expanding against your son's body. After a couple of breaths like that, Ollie started to regulate his breathing too, his crying becoming less frantic. You pressed your cheek against his, repeating the motion.
Leon appeared in the door with Ollie’s cup, handing it to you from a safe distance.
You took the cup from him, offering it to your son. He wordlessly took it into his hands, drinking from it.
If they’re having a tantrum, just add water. Old mom trick from Rhonda. That could be for drinking, gently washing their hands—just add water in some way, shape or form.
Back when Lottie had been going through her terrible twos, Rhonda had seen you completely overwhelmed and struggling to keep it together. You had tried everything but nothing would work and it was getting increasingly harder not to snap when the devil seemed to have taken over your child at every meltdown. Sensory reset. For the both of you. It was so simple sometimes.
Ollie swallowed and you smiled, running a gentle hand over his head again.
“I’m okay, Ollie. Your dad didn’t do anything I didn’t want him to do,” you said.
“It sounded really bad,” he sniffled, blinking, tears streaking his chubby cheeks.
You wiped the tears away from the soft skin. “You weren’t supposed to hear that, baby. We’re very sorry. That was grown-up stuff.”
“Do you promise?” Ollie looked at you, face all red and puffy.
You nodded. “I promise. Your father and I love each other very much, we would never hurt each other.”
Ollie wrinkled his forehead, shooting an angry glance at Leon. “Do you promise?”
Leon put a hand over his heart, crouching down behind you. “I promise. I love your mom. More than anything.”
Ollie sniffled again. “Good. Because she’s my mom.”
Leon chuckled, nodding. “I know.”
“Ollie, I’m also your sister’s mom,” you said, smiling softly at his possessiveness. “And I’m your dad’s wife. We all belong together. It’s important to me that you know that, okay?”
Ollie nodded hesitantly, throwing his head down onto your shoulder again, gripping you a little tighter. “Can I sleep in your bed?”
You chuckled, being very familiar with his shtick. “Try and sleep in your own bed, okay? We won’t wake you up again.”
“I don’t want to,” he said immediately, voice quivering, threatening to start screaming the house down all over again.
“You need to sleep in your own bed sometimes. Like your sister does. You’re a big boy now.”
“Daddy’s bigger than me. He sleeps in your bed every night.”
You chuckled. “That’s different.”
Leon pressed a kiss to your cheek. “You know, he kind of has a point.”
“We’re supposed to be on the same page, Leon,” you hissed.
“I know,” he said, offering his hand to his son. “I would never hurt your mom, Ollie. Never.”
Ollie gave Leon a tired high-five. “Okay.”
“How about your mom stays here with you until you’re asleep? Does that sound good?”
Ollie nodded and you lifted him up and into his bed. Leon leaned forward and pulled the duvet over his son’s shoulders.
Ollie made a grabby gesture and you took his hand, sitting by his bedside.
Leon tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his lips finding your temple and lingering for a little too long. “He won’t remember this when he gets older, right?”
You shrugged. “I honestly don’t know. I hope not.”
“I’ll go check on Lottie,” Leon whispered. “And when you come back to bed I have plans for you.”
“Quiet plans,” you reminded him.
“Oh very quiet, you’ll see,” he murmured, pulling you in for a kiss on the lips, sending tingling sensations all over your body.
You gasped.
“Leon,” you yelled, jumping up and rushing to the bathroom door.
“What?” Leon called back, stepping into the hallway and freezing when he saw what you were holding in your hand.
“Is it …?”
You nodded.
He rushed toward you, taking the pregnancy test from your hands. The second line was pale still, because you were only supposed to get your period that day, but it was definitely there.
“Oh my god, you’re pregnant,” Leon whispered, his face lighting up.
“We’re having another baby.” You couldn’t stop the wide smile appearing on your face.
Leon pulled you closer to him, resting his forehead against yours. He gently placed his hands on your lower belly, caressing your skin with his thumbs. Your eyes fluttered shut, a happy sigh escaping you at the thought of the next eight months.
“Boy or girl, what do you think?”
You chuckled. “Leon, I have no idea. There’s no way to tell.”
He captured your lips in a gentle kiss. “We actually planned this one, start to finish.” He sounded so proud.
You nodded. “Shocking, I know.”
“Took us a while, though.” He whispered, gaze falling down to your still flat belly. Not for much longer. You would be able to show off your baby bump in no time and you couldn't wait.
“I didn’t hear you complaining,” you teased him, nudging your nose against his.
He chuckled. “This is our last pregnancy. We have to enjoy this and take so many pictures. Maybe go on one of those babymoon things or whatever they’re called.”
You nodded again. “This is the last time we’ll do this. Our last baby.” Why did you feel a little teary-eyed all of a sudden? Hormones weren’t supposed to spike this early on.
“It feels so weird not to be surprised with it,” Leon said. “I had time to look forward to finding out.”
“I’m so excited,” you replied. “I can’t wait to see what Lottie and Ollie are going to say.”
Leon's gaze trailed down and he bit back a laugh. “Do you want to pull up your pants before we tell them, though?”
“Oh,” you exclaimed, reaching down.
a/n: experts will know this was of course not their last baby. surprise, bitches as per Cooperative Parenting - Epilogue
(🚨MINORS DNI I REFUSE TO BE THE REASON YOU GO TO THERAPY - 18+ ONLY🚨)
You're fighting with Leon S. Kennedy when you realize he's enjoying it a bit more than he should.
Or
Seeing who will cave first.
—————————————————————————
Off The Record
You were both furious. Leon Kennedy was more overbearing than you could handle, and you quite honestly were too stubborn for him to fathom. Countless hours have been spent arguing over his overwhelming need to be your protector, and you were struggling to get him to see that you were not one of the damsels he was used to.
This was the first mission he had been teamed up with a partner in a long time, and you had been well and truly warned. Suddenly, your superiors’ under-the-table comments about the man made all the more sense.
“You didn’t even—how the hell do you expect for me to keep you safe when you do shit like this?”
You groan. You knew this man had a lot of built-up tension, but you were getting tired of it. You had been working together for two weeks now, and between all the reliance on each other and hours spent on what you thought was building trust, he still had this overwhelming need to care for you.
You were hidden away in a room deep within the confines of your mission, waiting it out for things to die down outside. You were currently counting your leftover shotgun shells while Leon had his little meltdown.
“This is the second time, damnit. If you have a death wish, don’t waste my time.”
You looked up at him from under your lashes as you stashed the shells back into their holder at your side. You don’t look away as you cock the shotgun, then let it clatter on the dresser as you push off from the spot you were leaning against.
“I’m fully capable, Kennedy. Just because you’re my senior doesn’t mean I need to be cared for.”
“Agent. Kennedy.”
“Right now, you’re acting like a helicopter parent. My bad for getting confused.”
His eyes flash with anger, and he takes a step. You don’t back down, closing the space between you for him.
“You forget yourself,” he grunts.
You scoff. You’re practically chest to chest, but you take a hard step closer, forcing him to take a step back before you’re practically pushing through him.
“You forget that I placed amongst the highest in my class, training under Valentine herself, and amongst the few personnel qualified enough to sit at the round table.” You kept herding him backward, hoping that the fucker would trip and get a taste of old wooden floorboard. “You’re pathetically stuck in the past. You need to open your eyes and-”
The back of his knees are knocked out by an antique bedframe, making him fall backward into the mattress. You’re overwhelmed with the satisfaction of knowing you’ve finally caught this man off guard enough to lose his bearings, and you know he can see it in your eyes.
You widen your stance, enjoying the view of him collapsed on the bed more than you should. Your eyes fall to his hands fisted at his thighs, and your breath catches in your throat.
He’s hard.
Leon S. Kennedy is sitting on the bed beneath you…and hard.
You meet his eyes and cock your head to the side.
“Agent Kennedy,” you say, toying with him.
His heavy breaths worsen. Slowly, he widens the space between his legs. Without looking away, you drop to your knees. Your hands find themself at his ankles, and you run them from his calves to the tops of his thighs. He inhales heavily through his nose and adjusts himself in his seat as your thumbs trace along the outline of his cock as you reach for his belt.
He is still silent as you unclasp his belt buckle. Your hands are quick at unbuttoning his slacks, and you get yourself comfortable as you free his cock. His gaze is still harsh, and you take it as a challenge.
Your eyes don’t leave his as you bring yourself closer, and you’re smiling as you open your mouth wide and run your tongue along his tip. His breath hitches, and his eyes look like they try to close, but he doesn’t cave.
Fine.
You flatten your tongue against the base of his cock and drag it along his shaft before bringing it to a point along the tip. You swipe along the space between his head and shaft, and his hips move with a grunt.
You take the tip of his cock into your mouth and hum, and his fists enclose around the comforter as he hisses, his knuckles nearly white. You hollow your cheeks as you lower your head further. You use him to work open your throat. When he reaches the back of your throat, you swallow against him.
“Shit!”
Leon’s hand flies from the bed to the back of your head. His taut fingers find their way into your hair, and the grip he uses to hold you makes you throb. His hips undulate as his breath catches, but he doesn’t push further. He is grinding his teeth to stop himself from moaning, and in retaliation, you quicken your pace; you almost had him.
He grunts, his body tensing as you work him with calculated, teasing strokes. The sounds your hand and mouth make are entirely lewd. His breaths grow ragged, and you feel the tension coiling in him, his hips shifting subtly as if seeking more.
You’re beyond turned on. Your cunt clenches around nothing, and you don’t need to feel between your legs to know you are dripping. With your other hand, you scramble to undo your pants before he notices. You can’t let him have this win.
Your fingers delve between your folds, and you begin to moan with relief before stopping yourself. Instead, you spread your legs wider, giving yourself more room to fuck up into your cunt. With each thrust, the heel of your hand rubs perfectly against your clit. It doesn’t take long for you to notice you are embarrassingly close. Leon’s hips twitched, and you knew he wasn’t far from finishing either.
You speed up your pace, twisting your grip as your hand chases your lips. His hand tightens in your hair, and he sucks in a sharp breath that catches in his throat. The sound makes your cunt throb, and you clench around your fingers. You grind into your hand and can’t help the moan that escapes around his cock.
“Are you?” Leon gasps, “Fuck–fuck!”
A ragged moan tears from him, and he’s cumming, hard.
He’s nearly gasping for air as hot spurts of cum shoot down the back of your throat. You take it all, swallowing until you’ve sucked him dry. Finally, he pulls you off of his cock by your hair.
You gasp for breath, and your neck cranes against his grip. Your bleary eyes find his, and the half-lidded look he gives you has your bruised lips forming into a smile.
Before you know it, he's hooking his arms under your shoulders and lifting you into the air. Your feet barely have time to touch the ground before you’re upright. Your world spins as you’re turned and tossed heavily onto the bed. He’s on top of you before your body has stopped bouncing on the mattress.
You go to sit up, attempting to take back control, but Leon shoves you forcefully back into the bed. He’s yanking at your shoes and hooking his fingers into your pants, maneuvering your body until your cunt is bare for him.
He hooks his arms behind your knees and pulls, dragging your body until your lower half is hanging off the bed. You barely have time to catch your breath before his tongue has delved into your folds.
You gasp, your hips chasing after the sensation of their own accord. Leon’s hands forcefully find their way to your hips, shoving your ass into the mattress and spreading you wider with his forearms.
“Oh my god!’ you cry as his lips find your clit, expertly teasing and sucking in a way that sends sparks of pleasure radiating throughout your body. A hand slithers its way down your body, and you choke on a gasp as he thrusts his fingers into your cunt.
He pumps his fingers into you, mouth matching each of his thrusts as he laps at your clit. You bring your chin to your chest as you let out an anguished whine. It spurs him on, and he curls his fingers, brushing that spot inside of you that has your eyes rolling as you throw your head back.
Your body tenses as the pleasure builds, his rhythm relentless and precise. You feel the tension coiling tighter, every touch sending you closer to the edge. Your toes curl, and you’re almost falling when a ringing tone pulls you back.
Leon stops. He sits up and pinches at his brow while the phone continues to ring. He sighs, running a hand over his mouth as he brings it to his ear.
“What?” he grunts into the phone. You’re beyond mortified, and you move to get out from under him, but are stopped by another forceful shove into the bed.
The comms crackle, but sound out, “Intel says the payload is moving south...” You move to hide your face in your hands, but they force their way over your mouth when Leon begins toying with your clit. Your gaze falls to his, and he tries to play it off, but amusement flickers in his eyes. “...expecting to arrive at the facility in T-minus 20.”
Leon’s eyebrows raise with bemusement, but settle as he responds, “Got it.”
He hangs up the phone and tosses it to the ground. You expect him to stand, but his fingers are back inside of you and thrusting at a pace that has you gasping. His lips find their way back to your cunt, and his tongue flicks against your bundle of nerves until you're seeing stars.
You’re rushing so fast towards the edge that tears spring to your eyes. You feel like you’re going to burst, crying out as your muscles clench.
Your orgasm hits you like lightning, coursing through your body until you’re shaking with it. Your cries fill the room as Leon continues, drawing out your pleasure until your body gives out, boneless and trembling.
He pulls his fingers from you as sensation creeps back into your body. Your legs shake, their muscles abused and thoroughly wrung out. You take a second to collect yourself, calming yourself down from such an intense high. Using your arms to push yourself to a sitting position, you find Leon already standing, stashing his gun at his side.
He holds out a hand and you take it, standing weakly. Once he deems you sturdy, he bends, grabbing your disheveled clothes and placing them in your hands.
You dress as he gathers the rest of the belongings. He slings his rifle over his shoulders, and while he's turned, you let yourself admire him in an all-new light.
“Sorry to cut things short,” he says.
“What?” you blurt, shocked. Does he not see how thoroughly wrung out you are?
He’s grinning when he turns back around to face you, presenting you with your shotgun’s stock. “We’ll just have to continue to work this out later.”
You’re slack-jawed as he turns for the door. As you watch him leave ahead of you, you let out a long breath as you put up your rumpled hair.
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Don't think the stripper likes you (part 9) - Helena
[Rookie!Leon Kennedy x fem!Reader]
Warnings: nsfw, no outbreak au, age gap, older reader (early 30s), sw, sweet sweet fluff, Leon suffering
part 8
Summary: Lola finally lets her guard down. Leon should have probably put his guard up when Marvin Branagh calls him into the police station on his day off.
a/n: I recommend a shot of hard liquor before reading this. Didn't intend to update this early but I was feeling it. I love this fic. xoxo, gossip bibble.
word count: 2.6k
Masterlist
Before the rookie came along, you had never been fed breakfast while sitting on someone’s lap before. But here you were, eating pancakes with fresh strawberries and cream while Leon softly ran his thumb over your hipbone.
You sighed contently, leaned back on your elbows resting on the table top and licked the whipped cream off the fork. Leon looked at you with his dark blue puppy eyes and he looked so happy you wanted to melt.
His gaze trailed over your form and he leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your breasts through the thin layer of cotton covering them. Your eyes threatened to flutter shut, but you forced yourself to keep them open. You wanted to see him. His blonde hair falling into his forehead while he pressed his beautiful face against your chest was one of your favourite sights to see.
Leon put the fork down and cupped your breasts, softly squeezing them. His tongue darted out, ghosting over the part of them that was spilling out of your top. You leaned back a little more so you could get a better view, sighing softly when he pulled the fabric down and brushed his lips over your nipple.
He slipped the tip of your breast into his mouth and you arched your back, pushing yourself up against him, a quiet moan falling from your lips.
“Thank you for breakfast,” you whispered, picking up the fork and piercing the prettiest strawberry you could find, dipping it into the whipped cream and bringing it into Leon’s line of sight. He let go of your breast and closed his lips around the fork.
Your heart stumbled and you resisted the urge to say something stupid about his age to break the tension. You could just enjoy this. Enjoy that he had woken you up with his face between your legs. And enjoy that when he was done and had asked you what you wanted for breakfast, pancakes and strawberries hadn’t been an instant 'no'. Enjoy that he had gone out, gotten fresh strawberries from the store, whipped up some cream and made pancakes for you to enjoy while you were sitting on his lap.
“My pleasure,” he murmured and pressed a parting kiss to your nipple, pulling your shirt back over your chest, gently covering you up. He was so sweet. Strawberry sweet, in fact.
“Dude, could you and your girl have been any louder?” The door to the kitchen opened and Luis shuffled in your direction, yawning, stretching and not even acknowledging you. “I was trying to sleep in.”
Leon bit back a smile and looked up at you, again completely lovesick, his hands resting on your hips, while you straddled him. You bit your lip at the thought of what he had done to you this morning that had woken Luis up. You were rather fond of that memory.
“Hey Luis,” you crooned and he did a double take.
“Oh my god she’s still here,” Luis said, awkwardly covering his crotch with his hands so you wouldn’t see too much of him in his boxers. Not that you were interested. You only had eyes for one of the boys.
Luis stared at you, then at Leon, clearly puzzled. “Are we working our way through the entire stripper roster now? I thought you were a one lady type of guy?”
“I am a one lady type of guy,” Leon said, still caressing your skin as if it pained him to stop touching you.
“Clearly not,” Luis nodded to you. Your face sank. Oh right. Oh shit. The lap dance
This was Leon’s test. Would he freak out?
You stiffened as he looked between you and Luis, confused.
“Then why is Helena sitting on your lap?”
“This is Lola,” Leon said and Luis blinked.
“No that’s … that’s Helena,” he insisted, helplessly, the fear of god written all over his face. “I wasn’t that high.”
You bit your lip, anxiously looking down at Leon. “Luis got a private dance with me last week,” you whispered. This was it. This was the moment your little make believe pancake fairy tale would be over. No more strawberries, no more cream, no more rookie.
“Hermano, I’m seriously so sorry,” Luis said, preemptively trying to defuse the situation.
Leon watched you intently. “Why does he think you’re Helena?”
You gnawed on your lower lip. “I gave him a fake name when he mentioned you. He had no idea.”
Leon’s breath hitched in his throat and you searched his face for a reaction but got none. Was he angry? Hurt by your actions? He was unreadable.
You shifted in his lap, awkwardly, not sure if he wanted space after finding out that you had given his roommate and friend a lap dance. You had sort of breached an unspoken boundary between you two.
He noticed and gripped your hips tighter, keeping you in place, softly shaking his head. “Where are you going?”
“I thought–,” you whispered and your crotch brushed over something quite interesting. You angled your hips to be sure.
Your eyebrows shot up. Leon wasn’t angry.
He batted his eyelashes, avoiding your gaze, a rosy tint appearing on his cheeks.
A smile tugged at your lips. You couldn’t believe this. Oh, Leon, you little freak.
Somehow, you had stumbled across the kinkiest officer in the whole RPD. That cuck of a police officer was half-hard after hearing you had given a lap dance to another man.
“It’s okay, Luis,” Leon murmured.
“Are you sure?” Luis asked, kneading his hands. “I really didn’t mean to sabotage you like that.”
Leon shook his head. “It’s not really my decision to make what she does with her body, right?” He looked at you, sheepishly, waiting for your response.
You stared at him, brows knitted together, lips slightly agape. “Yeah,” you breathed and Leon rested his forehead against yours.
Luis narrowed his eyes on you both, clearly confused. He opened his mouth, crinkled his nose, lifted his hand, let it fall down again. “You know what, forget I was ever here,” he backtracked out of the kitchen. “I wanted to sleep in anyways. Which seems to have become impossible in this apartment from now on.”
The kitchen door fell shut but you and Leon stayed like that for a little while, sharing breath.
“We’re going to have to talk about this,” you whispered.
“Well, not right now?” The blush in Leon’s cheeks intensified. You giggled.
The rookie was into you getting other guys horny. Why was he so perfect? So perfect for you?
You captured his lips in a slow unrushed kiss.
Leon sighed into the kiss and shifted a little under you so you weren’t sitting with his boner pressed into your center through the thin fabric of your underwear.
“Wait.” He broke the kiss. “I don’t want you to think– I mean–” He blew out a shaky breath, squeezing his eyes shut. “Obviously we’ve been at it like rabbits from day one and I really like that, you’re so god damn sexy and you’re so sensual but–”
“But what?” you whispered, nudging his nose with yours.
“It’s not what I like about you.” He paused. “I mean, it is. But not the only thing. I don’t want you to think that just because we’re having sex all the time that I–”
Your stomach fluttered.
“I kind of hate that I’m getting hard again right now. I wish I wouldn’t.” Leon winced at his own words. “I mean, no that’s not true, it’s just– I wish we didn’t fuck all the time.” He whined. “Wait, no, of course I do, what I mean is–”
You nodded, cupping his cheeks. “I know what you mean. I’m a sex worker, Leon. Trust me, I know.”
He smiled and let out a relieved breath, pressing a kiss to your palm. “I have the day off today. Do you want to go to the hardware store? We could get more material for the guinea pig pub. If you want?”
You stared at him as your stomach did backflips. Your first instinct was to slide off his lap and run for the hills.
The hardware store? That was your safe place. Far away from anyone that could ever bother you.
“I usually go to the hardware store alone,” you whispered, suddenly feeling like you were being chased by a saber tooth tiger.
The rookie’s face fell a little and he nodded. “I understand.”
You thought about Dave, the scrawny front clerk of the hardware store and what he would think if you showed up with a guy half your age.
But Leon wasn’t half your age. And he was aware that he was younger than you. Somehow he was still more mature than any other guy you had ever been with.
You imagined how you would introduce him to Dave.
This is the guy who feeds me and my guinea pigs strawberries in bed.
Dave’s eyes would probably bulge out of his head when he heard that. From you, no less. The lone wolf. The one that handled everything on her own. And not only that but you would keep going:
Because they’re my favourite fruit, he also gets up early on a Saturday to buy them for me so I can top my pancakes with them and whipped cream. Not from the can. Actual whipped cream.
He also comes to the hardware store with me to enable my weird hobby.
“But I would like to go there with you.” You let out a shaky breath, pulse rushing in your ears. This was dangerous. A real life or death situation. Letting Leon come this close was a threat bigger than any mugging in a sketchy alleyway ever could be.
Leon smiled and his gaze dropped down to your lips. “Okay,” he whispered, leaning in. “We’ll go after breakfast then?”
You whimpered as you watched his lips come closer and your heart beat so fast you thought it might jump out of your chest. Your amygdala was not quite convinced that this was the right decision.
“Yes, okay,” you breathed like you were being hunted.
He kissed you and you sighed into the kiss, his soft full lips moving against yours. You weren’t hunted by a saber tooth tiger, this was just Leon.
You’re mine.
Your fingers threaded through his hair. His soft, wheat blonde hair.
This could get messy but you don’t seem to mind.
You opened your mouth to him instantly, his tongue caressing yours.
This could be messy but I don’t seem to mind.
Maybe a twenty-one year old rookie cop was just what you were missing.
You could show him how to give Guinevere her heart medication. It was good to have a person around in case you ever needed help with that.
A phone rang, ruining the moment.
Leon fumbled for it on the wall next to the kitchen table and pressed it to his ear without letting go of you—hands or eyes.
“Kennedy,” he said, moving his hands up on your back, guiding you to lean against his chest. You let him, carefully placing your head on his shoulder, watching him.
“Leon, this is Marvin Branagh,” the Lieutenant’s voice sounded from the other end of the line. “I’m going to need you to come in.”
Leon wrinkled his forehead. “You gave me the day off.”
“I know,” the Lieutenant blew out a heavy breath. “But still.”
“Uhm.” Leon exchanged a confused look with you. “I’m not available, I already made plans.”
Branagh was a wall of stone. “Leon, this is non-negotiable. You’re going to come in and I need you to bring your badge and service weapon too.”
Leon sat up a little straighter, a nervous huff falling from his lips. “That sounds like you're taking me in.”
Branagh paused. “Don't make me come and get you,” he said, leaving no room for discussion.
You lifted your head. That didn’t sound good.
“What? No, Lieutenant.” You could feel Leon’s heartrate kick up under your palm. “I–I’ll be there in … half an hour, tops.”
Leon ended the call and stared off into the distance.
“Maybe it’s just that they’re understaffed or something,” you offered, nuzzling the side of his face.
“Why would he insist I bring my badge and gun then? I always bring it, he’s never insisted on it before like he doesn’t trust me.” Leon said, his jaw tight.
You softly caressed his chin with your thumb. “The Lieutenant is a nice man. And he likes you. Don’t worry about it, it’s probably nothing.” You pulled him in for another kiss before climbing off his lap, but Leon barely registered it.
“I don’t like this. I don’t like this at all.”
The stale air inside the Raccoon City police station was thick enough to cut when Leon walked in. Lieutenant Branagh already awaited him by the front desk as if he were a criminal.
Leon shuddered. “Lieutnenant, I’m here. what’s going on?” he asked, voice shakier than he wanted it to be.
His superior ushered him into his office and motioned for him to take a seat. Leon sat, placing his hands on the table as if he was about to be interrogated.
The Lieutenant drew in a heavy breath. “Leon, there’s no easy way to say this.”
Leon’s blood ran cold. “Say what?”
Marvin Branagh tapped his fingers on the wooden table top, looking for the right words. “You’re suspended without pay, effective immediately.”
“What?” Leon blinked.
“Someone filed a report against you. For soliciting a prostitute for basically the entire time you’ve been working with us,” he said.
“What?” Leon leaned forward in his chair. “Wait, soliciting a prostitute is a misdemeanor and it’s only an accusation. I get that you have to launch an internal investigation but—”
“You’re still on probation.” Branagh flinched at the volume of his own voice. “And it’s more than an accusation. We have exact dates, times and the location.”
“Lieutenant, I didn’t do anything,” Leon pleaded. “This is all a misunderstanding.”
“It’s not looking good for you, son. One of the dancers from the stripclub confirmed it.”
“Who confirmed it?” Leon blinked back the tears forming on his lashline. “It’s not true.”
“I can’t tell you, you know that. Witnesses’ personal information are confidential. But she allegedly saw you. On more than one occasion.“ Branagh held up his hands in defense. “My hands are tied.”
“The club has CCTV,” Leon cut in. “You can check it and you’ll see that—” His throat closed up.
“I’ll see what?”
He would see Leon handing a dancer who goes by the stage name Lola a hundred dollar bill. Right before disappearing into one of the private rooms and having sex with her.
He was in deep shit.
“Please, Lieutenant,” Leon whispered around the lump in his throat. “Being a cop is everything to me, I–”
“I know that,” Branagh said, leaning in closer. “And I want to believe you, I do. But I can’t not do anything about this. We’ll check the CCTV and as you say, there will be nothing on there and you’ll be back with us in no time, right?”
Leon’s chin quivered as he looked up to the ceiling. He knew what they would find on those tapes. Enough to crush his dreams. Everything he had worked so hard for, gone at the push of a play button.
“Hand over your badge and service weapon, please,” Branagh said calmly and Leon did as he was told, mechanically, muscles stiff.
The Lieutenant checked the magazine of the gun and scribbled onto a form. Leon couldn’t quite read what was on there before he signed off on it, the veil of tears threatening to spill out enveloping him like fog. He felt so god damn stupid.
“I’ll keep you posted, okay?” Branagh said. “I’m sorry, Leon.”
I’m telling you right now if I saw this man I would be on my knees proposing in a heart beat (I live in the south guys don’t look like this it’s heartbreaking)
Summary: Leon is a worker at CyberLife tasked to test your peformance as a sex bot.
Here is a link to the nsfw audio accompanying this one shot, but i will also link to it further down during the story again, so you know exactly which scene it depicts 🔉
Note: for those of you unfamiliar with Detroit: Become Human lore, here's a short (and probably shit) explanation of the LED light each android has on their temple to give fic context
red light commonly happens when androids start to become 'deviant' a.k.a gain consciousness, and that is often as a result of a deep emotional experience
word count: almost 1.8k, i know it's short but the audio did take me hours to make and this was meant to be a drabble anyway 💀
CW warnings will contain spoilers.
CW: nsfw, objectification, dehumanization, dubious consent (she's an android so she can't really consent), groping, vaginal fingering, spitting, blowjob/oral, deep throating, cum ingestion.
You are the newest addition in the line of the sex toy industry, a hyper realistic android whose entire purpose is to serve humankind as sexual relief.
Today is the first day you have been turned on since early manufacturing tests, because today you are undergoing quality control before being displayed at a store sometime soon.
Standing completely naked in the middle of a sterile, gray walled room, the only furniture around is a single metal chair with a small table beside it, and a twin sized cot bed pushed against the corner.
The small ring of LED light at your temple shines blue while you wait as instructed, not moving a muscle. Then, the door slides open and a man in a short sleeved, charcoal colored jumpsuit walks in, sporting the CyberLife company logo on his breast pocket.
His dark blonde hair is pushed back to reveal an attractive face, or at least that's what you would assume most humans would think according to your knowledge on common beauty standards.
He doesn't look in your direction as he walks up to you, his eyes focused on a tablet he’s holding in a gloved hand, a look of concentration on his features.
“WR400 Traci Unit, model number 24R-7706?” he asks without lifting his gaze from the screen.
“Yes.”
Your response is immediate, voice steady and measured—you’re ready for whatever might be required of you.
The man taps the device a couple of times with his fingers, before finally lifting his gaze to meet yours with ice blue eyes.
“I’m Leon, I will be your handler today.”
“Nice to meet you, Leon.”
He gives you a casual nod, before setting the tablet on the metal table and causing a clink. He then removes his worker gloves one by one, placing them down with a silent thump.
Turning back to look you up and down, he takes in your appearance, your whole body completely exposed to him as he inspects it.
He steps closer, his focused gaze tracing your facial features for anything out of place, then his eyes drop to your lips.
“Open your mouth.”
You comply with his request without question, and you remain silent while he examines your teeth and tongue, even lifting the slick muscle to show him the underside of it.
Seemingly satisfied, he steps back then orders you again with a neutral tone.
“Turn around.”
You immediately do as told, facing the wall while he continues to observe you silently.
Two hands on your hips make you startle slightly—something you’ve been designed to do to deliver the thrill of illiciting a surprised reaction to the consumer.
Leon doesn't say anything, instead he slides a palm lower, groping your ass cheeks one by one, making a small ‘hm’ of contentment when he finds them adequate enough.
Without asking, he spins you around to face him again, his gaze focused down on your moving legs while you stare back at him curiously.
His hands move up to fondle your breasts without warning, squeezing the soft flesh and twisting your nipples while you moan softly, the electronic receptors on your manufactured skin activating with a tingle.
He nods again to himself, seemingly satisfied with the test so far.
“Spread out.”
As you do, moving to plant your bare feet wider, his right hand cups your pussy, giving it a testing squeeze, before he crouches down to examine you better.
Leon spreads your labia with his thumbs to take a better look at your inner folds with the same detached expression a mechanic would have while inspecting an average motor. Though, there is a growing bulge at his groin as his digit brushes your made-to-be-sensitive clit.
Every sound you’re coded to produce only spurs him on to continue his observation, probing a finger inside your tight, artificial cunt.
“What's your lubricant reservoir level?” he looks up at you while continuing to feel your hole.
“64%”
At that, he straightens back up with a nod, then steps to the table to input gathered information onto the tablet while muttering something to himself about a 'lubricant refill.’
“There's only enough time for an oral test today.”
“Okay.”
“You'll start with demonstrating your skills and then I’ll take over to test your throat. All clear?”
“All clear.”
“Knees,” he orders as he turns back to you, uttering the single word sentence in a nonchalant tone as he begins to unzip his jumpsuit.
You obey instantly, the synthetic skin of your legs coming into contact with the cold floor as you kneel in front of him, your hands flat on your thighs.
You watch him silently as his chest is revealed, the zipper sliding down with a sharp sound that fills the silent room. He continues lowering it until it reaches his crotch, exposing the black boxer briefs he’s wearing underneath.
Without hesitation, Leon lowers the elastic band of his underwear to take out his semi formed erection, then proceeds to jerk himself to full hardness while watching you like the pornographic sight you’re designed to be.
Once his veiny cock is ready, he steps back to sit on the chair, resting his elbows on the armrests and spreading his legs wider in a relaxed position.
🔉🔉🔉.
You crawl to him dutifully without being asked, until you’re settled between his thighs, waiting for permission.
“Come on,” he ushers you to move, a slight hint of impatience in his otherwise neutral tone.
That is all you need to lean in and take his cockhead in your mouth, making him release a low grunt at the contact.
You bring a hand to hold his base to jerk him at the same time to optimize stimulation, but notice the glide is too dry. So, your software quickly works to find a solution, the ring at your temple flashing yellow until you land on a fix. You spit on his veiny length to glisten it—saliva being a resourceful fluid in times of intercourse.
He groans, his hips jerking slightly from the movement, before relaxing again as he intently keeps his eyes on you while the LED turns back to blue.
You use every technique you’ve been programmed to perform. You lick and kiss his heavy cock from base to tip, then slurp the head and suckle it into your lifelike mouth as your artificial tongue wets his skin.
Leon doesn't say anything to praise you, but he doesn't hold back on making approving sounds either. Your bionic eyes track each one of his reactions to ensure you're delivering optimal results. Every scrunch of his eyebrows, every grunt, every hitch of his breath, only spur you to continue pleasing him as the ideal man serving-machine you were made to be.
You decide to deepthroat him next, bobbing your head forward and taking him in as much as you can while your throat chokes around his tip. It’s a deliberate design choice to make the experience as realistic as can be. You know you can turn the gag reflex on or off depending on what the situation calls for.
Leaving it on for now seems to be the right choice, however, as the blonde man grunts again in approval, his hips twitching.
Retreating your head back, you use your hand once more to stroke his dick while kissing his veins, before deep throating him again. You keep alternating between the different motions, eliciting more and more positive reactions from him, until you choose to focus on demonstrating more of your throat abilities. So, you spit on his throbbing cock once again to facilitate the procedure and ensure ideal delivery.
Gagging a couple of more times to his satisfaction, you finally turn off the gag reflex option seamlessly, the change happening inside your software. Then, you use your throat as a cocksleeve to take him deep repeatedly.
Leon stops you though, gripping your head with two hands to pull you off him. He doesn't say anything as he shuffles to stand up over you, his eyes never leaving your face when he positions you to take him in your mouth again.
Keeping your jaw slack, you stay completely still, pliant and submissive as he digs his fingers in your scalp and begins to fuck your throat hard and fast with a low grunt.
He doesn't have to ease you into it, or pause to make sure you’re breathing, or even ask if you're okay with the act in the first place. No, he simply thrusts into your open mouth, pushing past your man-made epiglottis without a care.
“Fuck…” he finally speaks, seemingly unable to contain the curse word as he uses you like a literal fucktoy.
All you can do is watch him with wide eyes, the hair at the base of his cock tickling your nose, the muscles of his abs rippling with every movement, and the sweat beading on his temples wetting his golden strands.
Your machine of a brain thinks he looks beautiful.
His movements grow faster, jerkier—not even noticing the ring flashing yellow again next to your right eyebrow—as the growls that slip past his lips are made of pure delight, nearing closer and closer to release.
Finally, with animalistic sounds that highlight the difference between man and machine, his cock shoots spurt after spurt of creamy cum down your synthetic throat. Only then does he stop moving, letting out a final grunt before pulling out of your mouth, the muscles of his biceps relaxing after the strenuous exercise.
He watches you, his chest heaving, as you start to lick and slurp every remaining drop of semen off his spent dick, not even needing a second to recover despite the brutal throatfucking you’ve just endured.
Steadying his breathing with deep exhales, he expresses his satisfaction at your performance in simple terms.
“Okay…” he nods, looking down at you like the useful piece of equipment you are. “You good.”
Without another word, he tucks himself back into his boxer briefs, then zips up his jumpsuit before checking his watch—he has a busy schedule.
Leon steps to the table and grabs his earlier set down device and gloves, inputting collected information silently as he begins to walk to the door.
“Someone will come collect you to put you into sleep mode,” he mutters, not sparing you a glance as he puts on his worker gloves that match his clothes in color. “Oh, and you can stand now.”
With that, he walks out of the room, the sliding door shutting behind him with an electronic swoosh.
As you pull yourself back up to your feet, your eyes stay trained on the spot he disappeared from, the circle of light on your temple flickering red for a split second.
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summary; A three parter, dad leon and the cafe in this part, part b they go on a date and then i've got a sexy surprise in part c hehe.
word count; Had to split this part into three because tumblr kept complaining about how big it was so, this is part a, b will be posted once I finish formatting this and then c will be tomorrow!
links; part one, part two , part three, part four, part five , part six,part seven, part eight.
apologies if i missed anyone wanting to be tagged, comment to be tagged in the next one!! <3
Leon’s POV
“Daddy look!” Freya squealed.
Leon huffed, this was a lot harder than he thought it was going to be.
“Coming princess.” He sighed, his eyes leaving his laptop and travelling to the mess in the middle of the living room.
Freya had dumped out all of her toys in the middle and was using the window sill, the fire escape, and the bookcase as a dollhouse - or more accurately a doll village.
Leon walked over nonchalantly before clocking the steady stream of water pouring out of the fire escape and onto some very angry civilians below.
“Freya!” he shouted, lifting the cup and looking down to see a heavyset man hurling abuse in his direction.
He shut the window quickly and placed the cup on the coffee table with a sigh.
“Sorry dada.” Freya frowned, her big puppy eyes looking up at him.
“It's okay baby, just- lets not play at the fire escape anymore okay?”
She nodded sweetly and went back to playing with her dolls, thrusting a dinosaur into his hands.
At first, Leon was unsure of how to play with her. His hand cautiously thumped the dinosaur on the floor amongst the array of other toys.
But eventually , he got the hang of it, losing himself in the mindlessness of pretending to be a talking dinosaur.
“No daddy-” Freya laughed, grabbing the dinosaur from his hands. “Dino doesn’t drink smoothies.”
“What? Even dino’s need their 5 a day.” He grinned.
“You’re funny.” She giggled, dropping her toys and standing up. “Can we have lunch now?”
Lunch. Shit.
Hadn’t thought of that one..
“Of course…” he trailed off, picking himself up off the floor. “What do you want?”
“Marco makes me lunch.” Freya smiled ear to ear.
“Hmmm that's not what mum told me.” Leon’s brow raised.
“But he does!” Freya protested. “And, I miss mummy soooo much.”
Leon sighed, what a manipulator. Then he smiled, hands folded in front of his chest, “I guess we could, it's only downstairs.”
Freya ran to the door in an instant, her socks causing her to slide and fall next to the door.
She grabbed her shoes without a second thought and rammed them onto her feet, fastening the velcro with ease.
“Ready!!” She yelled, sitting with her feet out in front of her.
“Wow,” Leon dragged on, “didn’t know I was father to The Flash."
“HURRRYYYYY!” she whined.
“Alright, geez.” Leon huffed, grabbing his shoes. “You’re really like your mum, you know that?”
Freya nodded confidently, her toothy grin irresistibly cute. “Auntie Rach tells me all the time.”
“Hmmm, figures.” Leon huffed, standing up and grabbing the keys. “Show me the way, little lady.”
𐙚⋆°｡⋆♡͏ 𐙚⋆°｡⋆♡͏ 𐙚⋆°｡⋆♡͏ 𐙚⋆°｡⋆♡
Reader's POV
The door to the cafe had barely shut all morning.
A seemingly endless stream of people kept piling in and out.
Barely any sit ins though, which was a plus on a day like today.
“Babe-” Rachel touched your back. “Take over I’m bursting-”
You nodded in response, sliding over to the espresso machine and reading the receipt on the counter.
“Two americanos, can do.” You huffed, grinding the coffee beans.
“Need a hand?” Avery called from the kitchen.
“You’re alright, check on Marco.”
“I'm always being checked on,” Marco shouted back immediately. “Nobody trusts me.”
“Because you set a towel on fire last week.”
“It was a controlled experiment.”
“It was arson.”
The bell above the door chimed.
Ding-ding-ding.
You barely looked up.
“Good Afternoon, what can I-” The words died in your throat.
Leon stood in the doorway.
Freya immediately spotted you.
“MUMMY!”
Every customer in the café turned.
Your daughter launched herself across the floor like a tiny missile.
“Freya-” Leon started.
Too late.
She crashed into your legs at full speed.
You laughed despite yourself, crouching to catch her before she took both of you out.
“Hey baby.”
She wrapped herself around your neck.
“We came for lunch.”
“We?”
She pointed dramatically behind her.
Leon stood by the door looking exhausted already.
One hand hooked into his jacket pocket.
The other carried a tiny pink backpack.
“Apparently,” he said.
You bit back a smile.
“Daddy doesn't know how to make lunch.”
“I absolutely know how to make lunch.”
Freya gasped.
“He made Dino drink smoothies.”
“Wow.”
“He needs his five a day.” Leon defended himself.
“Notorius carnivore, but okay.”
Freya giggled loudly between you.
Rachel emerged from the back carrying a tray.
She froze.
“Oh good,” she deadpanned. “It's him.”
“Afternoon Rachel.”
“Debatable.”
Leon didn't even react anymore.
Which somehow made it funnier.
Freya immediately reached for Rachel.
“Auntie!”
Rachel abandoned all hostility instantly.
“Hello pumpkin.”
The betrayal was immediate.
Leon pointed.
“See?”
“Don't.”you huffed
“She likes her more.”
“Well, yeah.”
Freya had already forgotten both of them existed.
“Auntie Rachel look.”
“Wow.”
“And this.”
“Wow.”
“And THIS.”
“Wow.”
You watched Rachel suffer through twenty consecutive toy demonstrations before finally looking back at Leon.
He looked tired.
But what's new.
Whatever was happend down in South America was chewing pieces off him.
“Sleep well?” you asked quietly.
His eyes found yours.
“Like a baby.”
“Good.”
“Yeah.”
A pause.
Then-
“Mama.”
You looked down.
Freya held both hands up dramatically.
“Carry me.”
“You can walk.”
“No.”
“You literally ran in here.”
“No.”
Leon snorted into his coffee.
You glared.
He immediately looked away.
The bastard was smiling.
“Daddy carry me then.”
“See?” Leon said. “I'm the favourite now.”
Freya immediately shook her head.
“No.”
The silence that followed was glorious.
Rachel nearly dropped a cup laughing.
You pressed your lips together.
Leon looked genuinely offended.
“Wow.”
“Sorry dada.”
“You don't sound sorry.”
“No.”
Another burst of laughter escaped you.
And for a moment-
Everything felt normal.
Like none of the years in between had happened.
𐙚⋆°｡⋆♡͏ 𐙚⋆°｡⋆♡͏ 𐙚⋆°｡⋆♡͏ 𐙚⋆°｡⋆♡
You walked out of the cafe for a smoke, Leon trailing behind you and leaving Freya inside with Rachel, Avery and Marco.
“I wanted to ask,” he paused, scratching the back of his neck. “You want to go out, tonight?”
“Leon, I have Freya.” you said softly, lighting your cigarette.
“No, I know, but can Rachel take her. We need some time, alone.” He looked away at the word alone.
You felt horrible for him and his predicament, and some part of you desperately wanted a date.
“Alright, I’ll ask. No guarantees.”
“Awesome.” He smiled, as wide as his tired eyes would let him. “We’ll get dinner.”
“Sure thing Romeo.” You huffed. “No funny business though. I can’t handle another Freya.”
He huffed out a laugh.
“No funny business.”
You narrowed your eyes.
“You say that now.”
“I mean it.”
“Mmhm.”
Leon looked offended.
You took another drag of your cigarette.
“Besides,” you added. “You couldn't handle me.”
That earned a proper laugh.
“Sure.”
“You couldn't.”
“Whatever helps you sleep.”
You rolled your eyes.
For a moment neither of you spoke.
The easy silence surprised you.
It shouldn't have.
Not anymore.
Eventually you flicked ash into the tray beside the door.
“Well.”
“Well.”
“You gonna stand there all afternoon?”
Leon shoved his hands into his pockets.
“Probably.”
“You have a child inside.”
“I know.”
“Who is almost certainly committing a crime.”
His eyes drifted toward the window.
A beat.
“Yeah.”
Another beat.
“She definitely is.”
You both turned at exactly the same moment.
Through the café window Freya could be seen standing on a chair.
Marco was trying to get her down.
Rachel appeared to be encouraging her.
“Great.”
“Fantastic.”
“Your fault.”
“My fault?”
“She got your energy, Rookie.”
“Not a rookie anymore.”
You gave him a look.
“Still.” You shrugged. “Rookie to me.”
“You never even saw me in uniform.”
“I wish.” You blurted before you could stop yourself.
“Oh, is that right?” His voice lowered.
“Shut up.” Your cheeks flushed red.
“Mhmm, okay.”
“Shut up!” You laughed, nudging his shoulder.
A beat.
That silence intruded again.
“I missed your laugh.”
“That all?” You teased, surprising yourself.
“No-” He looked down, hands on his hips. “But I’ll save that for later.
Rachel’s fist banged on the window behind you.
“No funny business Mr Kennedy!” She yelled.
Freya’s face squished against the glass.
“Thats you told.” You giggled, stubbing out your cigarette and going to open the door.
Leon followed behind, his body too close for comfort as you pulled the door open.
Your back met his chest for a moment and his hands instinctually went to your hips.
Then, inside, he was far away again, loitering at the door instead of coming in.
𐙚⋆°｡⋆♡͏ 𐙚⋆°｡⋆♡͏ 𐙚⋆°｡⋆♡͏
Rachel had removed herself from the window and had begun counting the till when you approached.
“No.”
You blinked.
“I haven't asked anything yet.”
“No.”
“Rachel.”
“No.”
“Rach.”
“Nope.”
You sighed heavily.
Across the room Leon immediately found something very interesting on the ceiling.
Coward.
“You don't even know what I'm asking.”
“Yes I do.”
“No you don't.”
“I absolutely do.”
Avery snorted from behind the espresso machine.
Marco looked between everyone like he was watching live television.
“She's asking if you'll watch Freya.”
Rachel pointed triumphantly.
“See?”
You glared at Marco.
“Traitor.”
“I'm Italian,” he said solemnly. “We thrive on drama.”
“Can I finish asking?”
“No.”
“Rachel.”
“No.”
“Rachel.”
“No.”
“Rachel.”
“Fine.”
You immediately smiled.
“Thank you.”
“I haven't agreed yet.”
“Yes you have.”
Rachel groaned.
“You're both impossible.”
“Love you too.”
“Shut up.”
Freya looked up from colouring.
“Can I stay with Auntie Rachel?”
Rachel's expression melted instantly.
The hypocrite.
“Of course you can, pumpkin.”
“Ha.”
“Don't.”
“Ha.”
Rachel pointed at you.
“One word and I'm charging babysitting rates.”
You gasped dramatically.
“You'd charge a single mother?”
“Absolutely.”
Marco nearly fell over laughing.
“That's evil.”
“I'm aware.”
“Marco's staying too, right?” Freya grinned ear to ear.
Rachel froze.
Marco froze.
Avery immediately looked away.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
Your brows lifted slowly.
“Oh.”
“Don't.”
“Oh my God.”
“Don't start.”
“Marco's staying, huh?” You looked down at Freya.
Rachel looked ready to commit a felony.
Marco suddenly became fascinated by the kitchen and walked away as fast as his legs could carry him.
“Oh my God.”
“Shut up.”
“Did you two…?.”
“No.”
“You absolutely did.”
“I did not..”
You burst out laughing.
Rachel looked seconds away from throwing something.
“Go on your stupid date.”
“It's not a date.”
Rachel stared.
Then at Leon.
Then back at you.
“Sure, babe.”
You hated how smug she looked.
Especially because she was probably right.
Avery laughed as she swept the floor.
“Oh and don’t do what you did last time.” Rachel said sternly.
You furrowed your brow.
“No funny business, Rach.” you huffed.
Avery giggled “You’re stronger than me.”
“Avery!” you and Rachel shouted in unison.
“What… look at him.” She huffed, turning to glance at Leon, whose hands were still on his hips, his eyes flicking between the ceiling to the floor.
“Yeah, okay.” Rachel sighed.
“Guys.”
“No, no he’s your problem.” Rachel held her hands up. “He’s just nice to look at.”
“Jesus Christ.” You huffed. “She goes to bed at 7 by the way so, I want her asleep when I get back.
“Yes Ma’am.” Rachel saluted.
“Oh and Rachel,” you paused, grinning ear to ear. “Don’t fuck Marco in my apartment please.”
Rachel choked.
Avery screamed.
From the kitchen came the sound of something metal hitting the floor.
You were already walking toward the door.
Leon laughing beside you.
𐙚⋆°｡⋆♡͏ 𐙚⋆°｡⋆♡͏ 𐙚⋆°｡⋆♡͏ 𐙚⋆°｡⋆♡
The laughter followed you out onto the pavement.
Mostly Rachel's.
You could still hear her shouting something through the café door as it swung shut behind you.
The door closed.
Silence.
Well.
Almost silence.
The city buzzed around you as evening settled over the street.
For the first time all day, it was just the two of you.
You immediately became aware of it.
So did Leon.
He shoved his hands into his jacket pockets.
You adjusted the strap of your bag.
Neither of you said anything.
“...Well.”
“Wow.” Leon glanced sideways at you. “You really are funny.”
You snorted.
“Thank you.”
“Thought you should know.”
“Appreciate it.”
A smile tugged at his mouth.
Then his gaze drifted toward the apartment building across the street.
“You wanna head up?”
You hesitated.
“Probably shouldn't show up to dinner smelling like espresso and burnt toast.”
“Oh good, so I’m not having a stroke.” He snorted.
You ignored the one liner.
“Give me twenty minutes.”
Leon nodded once.
“Take your time.”
You started walking backwards toward the building entrance.
“Don't disappear.”
Something flickered across his face.
Small.
Gone almost immediately.
“Wouldn't dream of it.”
The words landed heavier than either of you intended.
Your smile faltered slightly.
So did his.
Then you pointed at him.
“Twenty minutes.”
“Twenty minutes.”
You disappeared inside before you could overthink it.
𐙚⋆°｡⋆♡͏ 𐙚⋆°｡⋆♡͏ 𐙚⋆°｡⋆♡͏
Rachel was waiting when you opened the apartment door.
Arms folded.
Leaning against the kitchen counter.
Looking insufferably pleased with herself.
“Oh good.” She grinned. “The date survived the first five minutes.”
“It's not a date.”
“Mhmm.”
You kicked your shoes off.
“Did you climb the fire escape?”
“Of course.”
“You’re insane!”
Rachel looked offended.
“I am an amazing friend.”
You laughed despite yourself.
Then headed for your bedroom.
Rachel immediately followed.
“Absolutely not.”
“Oh come on.”
“No.”
“I need to see the outfit.”
“You do not.”
“I absolutely do.”
You groaned as she slipped into the room behind you..
“Rachel.”
“What?”
“You're nearing thirty.”
“And?”
“You act sixteen.”
“Thank you.”
“That wasn't a compliment.”
Rachel sat cross-legged on your bed.
“Get changed.”
You threw a pillow at her.
She caught it.
Smug.
Infuriating.
Unfortunately helpful.
Twenty minutes later you stood in front of the mirror.
Nothing fancy.
Nothing dramatic.
Just enough effort that you immediately regretted making it.
Rachel noticed.
“See?”
“See what?”
“You wanted it to be a date.”
Your face heated.
“No.”
“Babe.”
“No.”
“You changed three times.”
You pointed aggressively.
“That means nothing.”
“It means everything.”
A knock echoed through the apartment.
Both of you froze.
Rachel's grin became genuinely evil.
“Oh my God.”
“Rachel.”
“He's here.”
“Rachel.”
You grabbed your bag.
“Goodbye.”
“Hope you get boned.”
“I'm not doing that.”
“You absolutely should.”
You opened the door.
Immediately stopped.
Leon stood in the hallway.
And for a second neither of you spoke.
Because apparently he had changed too.
Dark button-up.
Sleeves rolled to his forearms.
Hair still slightly damp.
Like he'd actually tried.
Which felt unfair.
His eyes lifted.
Found yours.
Stopped.
A beat.
Then another.
Something shifted in his expression.
Soft.
Almost surprised.
“You look...” He cleared his throat.
Your stomach flipped.
“Hm?”
His gaze flicked away.
Then back.
“Nice.”
Brilliant.
You smiled despite yourself.
“You too, where did you-.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“Well you look handsome.”
Behind you came the sound of Rachel violently fake-gagging.
The spell shattered instantly.
Leon laughed.
You covered your face.
“Please ignore her.”
“Can't.”
“Fair.”
Rachel appeared over your shoulder.
“Have fun!”
“Rachel.”
“Use protection!”
“RACHEL.”
The door slammed in her face.
The silence that followed lasted exactly two seconds.
Then Leon laughed again.
The bastard.
“You ready?”
You nodded.
“Yeah.”
𐙚⋆°｡⋆♡͏ 𐙚⋆°｡⋆♡͏ 𐙚⋆°｡⋆♡͏
When you got outside, his gaze drifted toward the street.
Toward the motorcycle.
Then back to you.
A little more cautious this time.
“Question.”
“What?”
“You okay on the bike?”
The concern in his voice caught you off guard.
“If not,” he continued. “I'll call a cab.”
You blinked.
Then smiled slightly.
“Leon.”
“Yeah?”
“I did it before.”
“Different now.”
His eyes dipped briefly.
Toward your apartment.
Then back to you.
“You don't have to do anything.”
Something warm settled in your chest.
“We'll take the bike.”
His shoulders relaxed slightly.
“Okay.”
Mounting it was a different story.
You stood beside the motorcycle staring at it.
Then at your outfit.
Then back at the motorcycle.
Leon watched the process unfold in real time.
“You alright there?”
“Shut up.”
“I didn't say anything.”
“You were thinking it.”
A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.
That was answer enough.
You planted one foot on the ground.
Immediately lost all grace.
“Jesus Christ.”
Leon bit the inside of his cheek.
“You wanna laugh?”
“Not particularly.”
“You do.”
“A little.”
You shot him a look.
He finally gave up and laughed.
The sound hit you square in the chest.
God.
You hated how much you missed hearing it.
“Okay.” You muttered. “Move.”
“Move?”
“Move.”
Leon stepped closer.
Not teasing now.
Just helping.
One hand settled carefully at your waist.
The other steadied the handlebars.
The contact was brief.
Barely there.
Still.
Your stomach betrayed you immediately.
“There.” he said softly.
You climbed on.
Successfully this time.
“See?”
“Don't get smug.”
“Wouldn't dream of it.”
Liar.
Leon swung onto the bike a second later, settling in front of you.
For a moment neither of you moved.
Then the reality of the situation hit.
Your hands.
You weren't sure what to do with them.
Three years ago you would've wrapped yourself around him without thinking.
Now everything felt different.
Complicated.
You hesitated.
Leon glanced back over his shoulder.
“You can hold on.”
Heat rushed into your face.
“I'm aware.”
“Right.”
A beat.
“You look like you're trying to solve a math problem.”
“Drive the bike, Kennedy.”
His shoulders shook.
Laughing again.
Eventually you placed your hands carefully against his sides.
Keeping space between you.
As much space as a motorcycle allowed.
Leon didn't comment.
Didn't look back.
Just reached for his helmet.
“Ready?”
You swallowed.
“Ready.”
So excited to be back writing this series I love it so much.
apologies if i missed anyone wanting to be tagged, comment to be tagged in the next one!! <3
JUL 30 2002
The cafe smelled like vanilla, burnt sugar and coffee.
Your morning had been spent serving regular customers and also preparing for Freya’s 3rd birthday party.
And the amount you had gotten done was honestly impressive considering the amount of chaos currently unfolding inside it.
“Freya, no- honey, we don’t put frosting in our hair-”
Too late.
Your daughter blinked up at you from where she stood on a kitchen chair, tiny fingers buried in rainbow icing, curls already sticky with it.
Rachel burst out laughing from across the room.
“Oh my God, she’s definitely yours.”
“You’re covered in coffee stains.” you shot back automatically, grabbing a dish towel.
“Yeah but I’m not covered in buttercream.”
Freya gasped dramatically. “Mama!”
You looked down at her.
“What?”
“Cake.” She giggled, picking up a fistful of icing and pushing it into your mouth.
You sighed in defeat.
“Yeah baby, cake.”
𐙚⋆°｡⋆♡͏ 𐙚⋆°｡⋆♡͏ 𐙚⋆°｡⋆♡͏ 𐙚⋆°｡⋆♡
You closed the cafe early for the party - not officially - Just that nobody argued when Rachel locked the doors at three and flipped the sign.
Parents had begun to arrive, piling into the cafe with gifts in hand and excited tots bumbling into everything in sight.
The whole place buzzed with noise. Tiny shoes squeaking across the floor.
The paper decorations you, Rachel and Avery - the new hire from when you were pregnant - made were hanging crooked from the ceiling.
Someone's child was crying because another child looked at them wrong.
Usual toddler stuff.
“Absolutely not,” Rachel said flatly, catching a little boy moments before he faceplanted into the pastry display.
Marco, the new pastry chef, leaned out from the kitchen pass with a tray of mini sandwiches balanced on one arm. “If one more sticky child touches me, I quit.”
“You say that everyday.” Avery called from behind the counter.”
“Because everyday it’s true.”
You huffed a quiet laugh, crouching beside Freya where she sat, cross-legged near the front window.
“Okay,” you smiled, brushing a blonde curl away from her face. “What do you say?”
Freya looked up brightly.
“Mine.”
Rachel barked out a laugh loud enough to turn heads and you sighed.
“We’re working on manners.”
“She’s just like her father.” Rachel scoffed.
Your eyes narrowed. “You are obsessed with bullying that poor man.”
“He deserves it.” Rachel shrugged.
Freya gasped suddenly, holding up a stuffed rabbit nearly the size of her torso.
“Mama LOOK.”
“I see it baby.”
“No mama, LOOK.”
“I’m looking.”
“LOOK.”
You widened your eyes appropriately. “Woooooahhh baby.”
Satisfied, she hugged the rabbit dramatically to her chest before immediately abandoning it for the next present.
Typical.
𐙚⋆°｡⋆♡͏ 𐙚⋆°｡⋆♡͏ 𐙚⋆°｡⋆♡͏ 𐙚⋆°｡⋆♡
The cafe looked different these days.
New paint covered the walls, shelves lined with plants and mismatched mugs, the old tables replaced with sturdier wooden ones Marco insisted made the place “less sad and depressing.”
You’d fought him on it for three weeks before eventually giving in.
Now he acted like he personally saved the business.
“You’re welcome by the way.” He called from the kitchen - once staff room - as if reading your mind.
“You’re insufferable.” You shouted back.
“And extremely handsome.” He winked from the doorway.
Rachel gagged loudly.
𐙚⋆°｡⋆♡͏ 𐙚⋆°｡⋆♡͏ 𐙚⋆°｡⋆♡͏ 𐙚⋆°｡⋆♡
Near the counter, Avery crouched to help one of the preschoolers untangle themselves from the streamers.
“Rachel- you can't give toddlers soda.” She said, still untangling the child on the floor.
“Says who?”
“Science and pediatric doctors i think babe.” You said, patting Rachel on the arm.
“Cowards.”
𐙚⋆°｡⋆♡͏ 𐙚⋆°｡⋆♡͏ 𐙚⋆°｡⋆♡͏ 𐙚⋆°｡⋆♡
You turned just in time to see Freya climbing onto one of the chairs to look out the front window.
“Feet down please-”
Too late.
She pressed both hands dramatically to the glass instead.
“Mama.”
“Hm?”
“Daddy’s late.”
Your chest tightened before you could stop it.
Just slightly.
Rachel heard it too, judging by the way her expression shifted for half a second before smoothing back out.
“He’ll be here.” You said carefully.
Freya looked unconvinced.
“But he said-”
“He probably got stuck in traffic.”
“On his motorcycle?”
You blinked once.
Rachel turned away instantly, shoulders shaking.
Traitor.
“Yes,” you sighed. “Even on the motorcycle.”
Freya considered this deeply.
Then nodded once like she’d accepted a serious business explanation.
“Okay.”
You smiled despite yourself, reaching over to straighten the tiny paper crown slipping sideways off her curls.
Three years old.
Jesus.
It felt impossible sometimes.
Like you’d blinked and suddenly there she was: talking, running, forming opinions, asking where her father was - and despite it all loving him anyway.
𐙚⋆°｡⋆♡͏ 𐙚⋆°｡⋆♡͏ 𐙚⋆°｡⋆♡͏ 𐙚⋆°｡⋆♡
As the parents started to clear out, Rachel picked up Freya and started making her wave dramatically at the door.
“Bye-bye!” Rachel called in a high pitched voice, moving Freya’s arm for her. “Drive safe!”
Freya dissolved into giggles instantly, kicking her legs wildly in the air.
“Bye!” she squealed, nearly falling sideways in Rachel’s grip.
“Absolutely not- sit still you gremlin.” Rachel laughed, readjusting her on her hip.
Near the door, Avery handed out leftover party bags while Marco disappeared into the kitchen muttering something in Italian about icing stains and tiny fingerprints.
The cafe had finally started to quiet down.
Balloons bobbed lazily near the ceiling.
Wrapping paper covered half the floor.
Someone had stepped on cake near table four.
You were too tired to care.
𐙚⋆°｡⋆♡͏ 𐙚⋆°｡⋆♡͏ 𐙚⋆°｡⋆♡͏ 𐙚⋆°｡⋆♡
Rachel dropped heavily into one of the chairs near the counter with a groan. “I’m never having children.”
Avery snorted, gathering up abandoned paper plates. “You say that when you see any child that isn't Freya.”
“Yeah well she’s the exception. The rest of them are sticky.”
“Rude.” you muttered, bending to pick up a crushed party hat from the floor.
Marco appeared briefly from the kitchen doorway, dish towel over his shoulder. “One child called me old today.”
Rachel pointed immediately. “Because you are.”
“I’m thirty-two.”
“Ancient.”
He disappeared back into the kitchen swearing under his breath in Italian.
Freya giggled from where she sat beneath one of the tables, entirely occupied with peeling stickers off a party bag and attaching them to herself.
“Mama,” she announced proudly.
You looked over.
She’d stuck a glitter star directly in the middle of her forehead.
“…Beautiful.”
“I know.”
Rachel and Avery giggled, interrupted by the sudden ding-ding-ding of the bell.
The four of you turned to look at the door, and to everyone's surprise.
There he was.
Leon stood in the doorway, one hand still curled loosely around the handle. The late afternoon sun caught behind him for a moment, outlining him in warm gold before the door swung shut.
Leather jacket, dark jeans, helmet tucked beneath his arms. And older - not in an obvious way.
Just different, harder around the edges.
Your chest tightened before you could stop it.
Freya gasped loud enough to echo through the café.
“Daddy!”
Leon’s entire expression changed instantly.
Every guarded part of him softened at once as Freya scrambled out from beneath the table and sprinted toward him.
He barely got the helmet down before catching her as she launched herself at him full force.
“Oof- hey, baby girl.”
Freya laughed loudly as he lifted her effortlessly against his side.
“You came!”
“Course I did.” His voice was rougher than you remembered. “Wouldn’t miss this.”
Rachel watched the interaction carefully from her chair.
Then quietly leaned toward Avery.
“You get it?”
“Oh.. I get it now.”
Rachel nodded smugly.
You shot both of them a look.
Rachel didn't care, but Avery looked away, walking to the back to join Marco.
Leon glanced up and found your eyes instantly from across the room.
For a second neither of you moved.
Three years somehow sitting silently between you both.
Then Freya grabbed his face with both sticky hands.
“You’re late.” She whined.
Rachel choked violently on absolutely nothing and you felt a deep urge to hit her swell in your arm.
Leon blinked once before letting out a quiet laugh, head dipping slightly.
“Yeah,” he admitted softly. “Little bit. Sorry baby.”
Freya narrowed her eyes suspiciously.
Then held up a cupcake toward him in forgiveness.
“You can have this one.”
His expression cracked completely after that. Soft enough it almost hurt to look at.
He placed Freya on the ground and she immediately clung to his wrist. already dragging him further inside the cafe.
“C’mon.”
“Where are we going?”
“I show you.”
He let himself be pulled without resistance.
That part still caught you off guard.
Not the softness.
But him listening. Even over the phone, he would listen for as long as Freya could talk.
𐙚⋆°｡⋆♡͏ 𐙚⋆°｡⋆♡͏ 𐙚⋆°｡⋆♡͏ 𐙚⋆°｡⋆♡
Freya marched him proudly around the cafe like she was conducting a tour.
“That's Avery.”
Avery lifted a hand from behind the counter. “Hi.”
“That’s Marco.”
Marco looked up briefly from the kitchen doorway. “Hello tiny menace.”
Freya giggled loudly.
Then immediately moved onto the next thing.
“And this…” she announced dramatically, pointing toward the wall near the till, “…is me.”
Leon stopped.
There, pinned slightly crooked beside the menus, were dozens of drawings.
You rubbed at your face tiredly. “She insists they all get displayed.”
“They deserve it.” Avery cut in seriously.
One drawing had very clearly been done entirely in blue marker.
Leon stepped closer to it slowly.
“That me?”
Freya nodded proudly. “Motorbike.”
You blinked.
Honestly? It did kind of look like a motorbike.
Leon huffed a quiet laugh under his breath.
Your chest tightened at the sound.
Because it was familiar.
Too familiar.
Like hearing an old song unexpectedly.
𐙚⋆°｡⋆♡͏ 𐙚⋆°｡⋆♡͏ 𐙚⋆°｡⋆♡͏ 𐙚⋆°｡⋆♡
Rachel watched him from her chair near the counter.
Then leaned toward you slightly.
“He’s annoyingly good at that.”
“At what?”
She nodded subtly toward Freya.
“…Being her dad.”
Your throat tightened unexpectedly.
Because despite everything-
Even fragmented and inconsistent and disappearing for months at a time.
Freya still looked for him in every room first.
“Mama.”
You glanced up.
Freya stood beside Leon now wearing one of the paper party crowns crooked across both their heads somehow.
“Picture.”
Rachel immediately perked up. “Oh absolutely.”
“No,” Leon started instantly.
“Yes.” Rachel corrected, already grabbing the disposable camera off the counter.
Freya gasped. “Family picture.”
Silence.
Small.
Brief.
But there.
Your stomach twisted slightly.
Leon looked at you automatically.
Not pushing.
Just waiting.
God.
“…Fine.” you sighed eventually.
Rachel looked genuinely victorious.
“Push in together then lovebirds.”
“I hate when you call us that.” you huffed
“And yet here we are.”
The crown kept slipping over Leon’s eyes.
Freya found this hysterical.
You stood beside him trying very hard not to laugh while she clung to his arm from where he held her against his side.
“Smile.” Rachel ordered.
“You are enjoying this too much.”
“Deeply.”
The flash went off.
For a second none of you moved afterward.
Just stood there caught in the brightness.
Freya tucked herself instinctively against Leon’s chest afterward, tiny hand curled into the front of his jacket.
Comfortable.
Safe.
Your gaze snagged on the sight longer than it should have.
Leon noticed.
Of course he did.
His eyes lifted toward yours quietly.
Then away again.
Still careful with you.
Always careful now.
𐙚⋆°｡⋆♡͏ 𐙚⋆°｡⋆♡͏ 𐙚⋆°｡⋆♡͏ 𐙚⋆°｡⋆♡
Eventually it was getting late - for a three year old.
Avery cleared out first, saying her goodbyes and hanging up her apron.
Then Marco after dramatically complaining about cleanup for nearly ten minutes straight.
Rachel lingered longest.
Mostly because she didn’t trust Leon.
Partially because she wanted gossip.
Freya had started drooping by then, sleepy from sugar and excitement, curls flattened on one side from leaning against Leon’s chest.
Rachel crouched in front of her.
“You had fun today?”
Freya nodded sleepily.
“Mhmm.”
“What was your favourite part?”
Freya looked up at Leon and smiled a toothy grin
“Daddy came.”
The room went quiet.
Rachel’s expression shifted almost painfully fast before she recovered.
“…Yeah,” she said softly. “He did pumpkin.”
Leon looked down hard at the floor.
Your chest ached and you forced yourself to keep smiling
Eventually, Rachel grabbed her bag with a sigh.
“Well,” she pointed at Leon. “Don’t traumatise anybody.”
“Goodnight to you too.”
“I mean it.”
“I know.”
She narrowed her eyes once more before leaning over and kissing the top of Freya’s head.
Then yours.
At the door she paused beside you briefly.
Quiet enough that Leon couldn’t hear.
“…You okay?”
You looked over at him instinctively.
Freya asleep against his shoulder now.
One of his hands rubbing slow absentminded circles against her back.
Like he’d done it a thousand times.
“…I don’t know.” you admitted honestly.
Rachel squeezed your arm once.
Then left.
The bell chimed softly behind her.
Ding-ding-ding.
And suddenly- for the first time, ever, it was just the three of you.
𐙚⋆°｡⋆♡͏ 𐙚⋆°｡⋆♡͏ 𐙚⋆°｡⋆♡͏ 𐙚⋆°｡⋆♡
You moved back into the kitchen automatically, stacking the last few paper plates mostly to avoid looking at him too directly.
Leon hovered near the counter a moment before speaking.
“…You want me to head out?”
Your hands paused briefly.
It was late. And despite everything, the thought of him disappearing back out into the dark again made something uncomfortable twist in your chest.
“You can stay.” you said quietly. “If you want.”
His eyes lifted toward yours carefully.
“I’ll take the couch.”
“You don’t have to.”
A beat.
Then his mouth twitched faintly. “Pretty sure I do.”
You huffed softly through your nose, leaning back against the counter.
“The sofa still sucks, by the way.”
“Yeah, I remember.”
Silence settled again.
Not sharp.
Just tired.
Leon glanced toward Freya’s bedroom instinctively before dragging a hand slowly over his face.
The exhaustion looked heavier up close now.
Like it sat in his bones.
“How long are you here for?” you asked eventually.
His shoulders tightened almost immediately.
And there it was again.
That hesitation.
“That bad?” you muttered quietly.
He shook his head once. “No. I just… don’t know yet.”
You looked down at the counter.
South America.
Months gone at a time.
Phone calls at odd hours, money arriving in envelopes, postcards with almost nothing written on them.
And somehow he always sounded more tired every time he came back.
“Was it bad over there?” you asked softly.
Leon went still.
Nothing dramatic, just more noticeable than his usual macho facade.
His gaze drifted somewhere past your shoulder.
“Kinda.”
You waited.
He rubbed at the back of his neck slowly. “I was working with someone. Jack Krauser.”
The name meant nothing to you.
But the way he said it, it was clear it meant something to him.
Measured.
Careful.
“Did something happen… To him?”
A humourless breath escaped him.
“…Depends who you ask.”
Your brows pulled together slightly.
“Leon-”
“I can’t really talk about it.” he interrupted gently. “It’s classified.”
There it was, the wall again.
You hated that word now.
Classified.
You looked away first.
“Right.”
“I’m sorry.”
The words came out rough this time.
Leon leaned both hands against the counter, head lowered slightly.
“I know I keep showing up and disappearing and-”
“Leon.”
“No, let me finish.”
You stilled.
His eyes lifted toward yours finally and God-
He looked exhausted.
Not physically. No, something worse.
Like he’d been carrying something heavy for too long and didn’t know how to put it down anymore.
“I know I haven’t been…” He stopped, jaw tightening briefly. “I know I should’ve been here more.”
Your chest tightened.
“Hey.” you said quietly. “Stop.”
He shook his head once.
“I missed birthdays. Calls. Doctor appointments.” His voice dropped lower. “Half the time I don’t even know what day it is anymore.”
“You were working.”
“That’s not an excuse.”
“No,” you admitted softly. “But it’s true.”
Silence stretched between you.
Leon stared down at his hands.
You noticed then how worn they looked now:
New scars.
Raw knuckles.
Healing cuts.
Your stomach twisted.
“I’m serious,” you continued carefully. “The money helped.”
His expression shifted slightly.
“You don’t have to say that.”
“I know.”
You folded your arms loosely, leaning back against the counter.
“But it did help. A lot.”
And that was the truth.
The cafe barely survived some months.
Freya needed clothes constantly.
Not to mention; food, bills, nursery, toys- the list goes on.
There were nights you genuinely didn’t know how you were gonna keep everything afloat.
Then an envelope would arrive.
Or a transfer.
Or a package addressed to Freya with some stuffed animal from whatever country he was trapped in this time.
You swallowed slightly.
“I don’t know how I would’ve managed without it.”
Leon looked away immediately after that.
Like the honesty hurt.
“You shouldn’t have had to manage alone in the first place.” he murmured.
Your chest tightened painfully.
Because underneath everything else, all the other horrible things he had to endure, that was the part eating him alive.
Silence hung in the air, and you sighed softly.
Your hand moved on its own, drifting to his and squeezing it tight.
“I wasn’t alone. I had Rachel and- I had you. Not physically, not everyday but- you’re here aren't you?”
He nodded. “I’m here.”
“Good.” You huffed, looking over to the kitchen. “Cause I could use a hand with the dishes.”
He laughed, his hand falling back to his side. “You know I actually need to get going-”
You punched his shoulder lightly. “Don’t do that.”
Leon raised his arms in defeat and laughed. “I won’t.”
It was bittersweet because, eventually, you both knew he would.
the little sketch is done by me, just as a little thing to go with the chapter because I thought dad Leon is just too cute. Hope you guys like, i didnt end up colouring or rendering it just because I prefered it as a wee sketch :)
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