Hi, I'm Lennon!! ٩ʕ◕౪◕ʔو just dared to finally publish fanfics only x reader because I only care about me and my husband (/・0・)
✖ 22 !! Minors dni ( •́ ✖ •̀)
English isn't my first language, so I hope I don't write anything wrong lol
Honestly, this was my secret account, but I'd like to interact a bit more ; ;
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
📂REQ OPEN !!
𓇼 Req here𓇼
٩(•͈ ꇴ •͈)و ̑̑❀ It can be drabbles, headcanons or fanfic ideas
Or feel free to leave your thirsty thoughts about any character you want on my ask or anything to share thoughts and debate how mentally ill they are or how big their dicks are
📍FANDOMS I WILL WRITE ★ˎˊ
಄ Resident Evil, Detroit Become Human, Devil May Cry, Love and Deepspace, Death Note (especially the Wammy Boys meow), AOT, Obey Me
or whatever I feel like tuehehe
⤷ I WILL NOT WRITE!!
Dark sexual themes
Incest
Non con
Weird/Gross kinks
Illegal age difference
Male readers (I don't care about a man's POV,,,)
Other than that, I accept any request (´• ω •`)ﾉ Lennon out
mmmm is this too long mmmmmmmmmmmm oh, y siéntete libre de ponerme cosas en español !! niño los fanfics no son un juego
SUMMARY: Krauser has been obsessed with you ever since you slept together that lonely night, but lately you seem to prefer that pretty boy to him.
TW: SMUT (separately), porn with plot, voyeurism, abuse of power, gentle sex with Leon and rough sex with Krauser !!
✦ Read on AO3 ✦
He wasn't supposed to feel this way; you were nothing to him, romantically speaking. Krauser had trained you for three years, you'd both proven you could watch each other's backs, and he trusted you immensely, though he'd never admit it. You were supposed to be just his comrade, nothing more. But that night, everyone on the team was tense. He'd been sent to oversee a test to see how fit you and the other inmates were. You knew what a bastard Major Krauser had been there; he'd pushed you to your limits, and your comrades had been hurt.
It was then that you saw him there in the middle of that dark hallway, ready to head back to his office. Krauser remembers perfectly all the insults you hurled at him, but he just gave you a smug, arrogant grin. In that moment, you knew that despite everything, he just wanted you to improve. You hated him, and for some reason, you wanted more of it.
You knew it was just the adrenaline, and why you'd felt that tension for a while now. So neither of you were surprised when suddenly you were both making out there in that old hallway. You don't know who started it, but you just remember his hand was already touching your ass, trying to pull you as close as possible, while you were desperately unbuckling his belt until he was free, not even caring that he was already dragging you to his office.
Krauser didn't even care how badly you were hurt from that mission; he simply thrust into you from behind with the force you expected from him, while you felt his hand grip you roughly or smack you, enjoying with that wicked smile the way your skin reddened as you smothered all the pleasure against the pillow.
The next morning, you simply woke up in his bed. He was already getting dressed and just looked at you with those hard eyes, as if nothing from yesterday had affected him in the slightest. You didn't think it had affected you either; after all, you felt better, even though you had more marks than before. What did disturb Krauser's calm was when you stood up, still naked, just to walk towards him and kiss him on the lips. It was a different kiss than the one from that night, and instead of trying to touch your breasts or ass, he simply brushed against your waist without squeezing.
So, as soon as you put your uniform back on, you left without another word. The weeks passed normally, except that now you and your Major spoke more casually, whether during breaks, lunch, or while he was coaching someone else and you stood beside him trying to tease him or the recruit who was struggling to keep up with your Major.
Of course, you tried to flirt with him blatantly, and your Major didn't even seem to care that you could notice his erection.
Krauser desired you.
And that was a huge problem.
But he wasn't afraid if you caught him following you around the bootcamp; he just needed to see you. Nothing unusual, except for the times he peeked through your bedroom door just to check if you were changing or masturbating.
But a few days ago, someone else joined the team, Leon S. Kennedy.
How he hated that name. Krauser took pity on him when he learned everything this rookie had gone through. He was young, he didn't belong there, he would undoubtedly be a burden.
Although you seemed happy with the new guy, not even you knew why. Maybe it was because he'd told you a little about what he'd seen in Raccoon City when everyone else believed biological weapons didn't exist, maybe it was his bad jokes, or maybe you just found him cute. Whatever the reason you were drawn to Leon like a moth to a flame, you always ended up sneaking off with him at night just to talk about moderately profound topics. It was normal for you; it was just camaraderie, a breath of fresh air amidst so many serious faces.
Your Major noticed this. How, instead of going with him to his office, you preferred to stay there, sweaty and covered in dirt, just to be by Leon's side.
The morning was as cloudy as ever. Every Tuesday is the same: run forty laps, do the usual warm-ups before practicing what you'd learned the day before. You watched through the window as Krauser began teaching the few new recruits, and your gaze automatically fell on Leon, noticing his flushed, sweaty, and tired face. Just out of curiosity, you decided to spend your precious free hour chatting with Krauser for a while. You could also get a closer look at Leon… you were a greedy bastard.
But you'd been breaking your back here for years; seeing an attractive guy and appreciating your favorite Major's physique was the least you deserved.
“Good morning, Captain.”
Krauser turned to look at you, annoyed, as you started walking toward him. There you were with that smirk he liked so much. But he wasn't thinking with his dick; he simply didn't answer you and continued watching the other cadets, though that didn't stop you from talking while he only responded with grunts or short answers. Leon was glancing at you, but luckily for Krauser, your eyes were finally fixed on him and not on that inexperienced rookie.
“Kennedy.” You blinked when Krauser suddenly stopped him in his tracks. Leon automatically walked toward you, trying to calm his breathing while he hesitated shyly, unsure whether to greet you or not. “I read in your file that you're good with pistols, number one in the academy, what an achievement.” Leon did his best not to flinch at his instructor's mocking tone.
But you sensed he would make an unexpected move against Leon; you knew it. He'd done it a thousand times to you, just to put you at a disadvantage. "But that's no good here. You can't even throw a kick that could save your life."
And with that, you saw Krauser pull two knives from his pocket—not the practice knife, but a real one. Some cadets stopped jogging to see what was going to happen, and that seemed to please him.
"What?" Leon frowned, looking at the knife Krauser was handing him. "It's an order," he replied. "Let's test how useful your police training was." Those words stung Leon; his patience with Krauser was wearing thin.
"Wait," you said. Unable to bear it any longer, you gripped your Major's wrist tightly. His icy stare made you realize you'd gone too far with this familiarity between you, but you didn't let go. "What the hell are you doing? You haven't even taught him how to handle fake knives. Are you fucking out of your mind?"
You both stared at each other, as if in conflict, until Krauser easily broke free from your grip and shoved you, making you stumble back in annoyance.
"Stop that!" Leon finally responded, seeing the scene, hesitating before accepting the knife. Krauser smiled, that wicked grin that signified some kind of satisfaction, a grin you knew all too well.
That's when everything spiraled out of control. The other cadets formed a circle to watch the fight. But you were furious at Krauser's shove and at Leon's unquestioning acceptance.
And you didn't want to see another friend getting hurt in this shitty place, so you decided to go back to the cabin where the others were. But as soon as they served you the bland food, you didn't want to eat. You sighed, still annoyed, fed up with this place. It was pointless to even wait for your training to end, because then you'd be an agent or soldier going off to fight mutated government creatures, never to see Krauser again.
You didn't know if that pressure in your chest was relief or because you didn't want to lose contact with him.
Clearly, you didn't know that Jack Krauser was always going crazy thinking about your graduation and that it was impossible to do anything to keep you here with him.
For now, you had no choice but to wait for Krauser to finish his power attacks. You closed your eyes, trying to lose yourself in your thoughts, along with the clinking of the silverware.
But what appeared in your mind was Leon's radiant face, your life before training, wounded comrades, and the support Krauser was always willing to give you. You didn't really want to, but your thighs pressed together as your mind wandered back to that night. You hated Krauser's superiority, but you simply enjoyed the control he had over you in his bed. You gripped the spoon tightly, remembering his hands tracing every inch of your body, that rough, ungentle touch he used with his weapons, caressing your skin. You enjoyed it, you wanted more of that cruel man.
"Shit." You whispered breathlessly, frowning as that memory began to transform your Major into Leon.
No, Leon would never touch you like that. He would be gentle, or so you liked to believe.
He wouldn't rip your uniform off, or spank you hard enough to make your skin burn. That rookie probably couldn't even unhook your sports bra without his face turning red.
You forced yourself out of your lustful bubble once you heard other people talking inside the dining hall. Of course, they were talking about the commotion between Krauser and Leon. Had the fight ended that quickly? That meant your buddy was hurt; you should go check on him.
You were just being a good campmate when you quickly jumped up from your seat to scour the entire block, searching every infirmary on campus instead of going to your training like everyone else, but there was no sign of Leon. As a last resort, you ran to Leon's room.
What made you jump was seeing him. There was no blood, just dirt on his clothes and a few minor scratches. You noticed he was just finishing putting cotton in a cut that didn't seem deep.
"Uh, hi," was all Leon said, a little taken aback to see you in that state. "I was worried about you. You seemed upset, the major has no right to push you like that." You remained silent, unable to believe that this idiot thought pushing a woman was worse than forcing him into a knife fight.
"Yeah, well, ethics are the last thing on our minds here, as you can see." You said, still somewhat annoyed, knowing that other superiors did worse things without any consequences. With a sigh of relief, you walked over and sat next to him on the bed, causing him to shift awkwardly and stare at you.
"He's an asshole," Leon admitted, annoyed, holding the rubbing alcohol swab near his cut. "I know…" you replied wearily, staring at him, noticing another small scratch on his cheek. "How did it all end? Did you give the good Jack what he deserved, Rookie?" You were trying to lighten the mood, and he noticed, so he just smiled ironically as you subtly sat closer to him.
"I did what I could, but it seems he got distracted by something. I took advantage of my opportunity, although it's not like I could take him down. Then he insisted I go to the infirmary, but since it wasn't anything serious… I just grabbed some cotton and rubbing alcohol and came back here."
"Did the Major yell at you to go to the infirmary?"
"Pretty much."
"He cares a lot, even if he doesn't seem like it."
Leon looked at you curiously at that; he struggled to see Krauser with even the slightest empathy. You knew everything Krauser sacrificed for his team; he just wanted them all to be alive once they reached the real world.
Your mind always clouded over when you thought of Jack as a human being rather than a Major or a weapon of war. Despite all those scars, he was still an honorable man who needed human touch, your touch. You longed to feel it again, but he always distanced himself. You hated it.
You heard Leon call your name in that soft voice, so different from all the harsh voices that used to give you orders. He had no power over you, and that contrast seemed to be driving you crazy these past few nights since he started training.
He called you again, worried, leaning closer until he touched your arm. You turned to look at him, your eyes glazed over, your faces almost too close for comfort in this godforsaken camp. Surprisingly, Leon didn't pull away, but you'd expected to see his cheeks flush at this closeness, and his breathing only worsened when your hand carefully rested on his thigh. You enjoyed watching him close his eyes, letting you take control this time.
You noticed the embarrassment on his face when he groaned briefly, finally feeling your touch on the bulge in his uniform. You were savoring every moment of this and were going to relish it, no matter if anyone walked into the dorm. The moment your fingers grazed the waistband of his pants, he timidly touched your skin beneath your shirt, asking for your permission.
Noticing the embarrassment that flickered through his face when he briefly moaned, Leon finally felt your touch on the bulge in his uniform. You were savoring every moment of this and were determined to relish it, regardless of whether anyone might enter the dorm. The moment your fingers grazed the waistband of his pants, he timidly touched your skin beneath your shirt, asking for your permission.
Meanwhile, Krauser was pacing the training yard while the others warmed up for the rest of the training. His fists were so clenched they were starting to hurt; he was angry and frustrated. He couldn't believe he'd let himself be consumed by jealousy, which only made him weaker. When he saw you leave the cabin, for some reason he expected you to go after him, not to check if a superior like him was hurt from a stupid fight with a rookie, but just to hear your voice yelling at him, telling him what an idiot bastard he was. He needed your attention, no matter what. So his rage only worsened when, instead of going after him, you went looking for Leon. That rookie who was the complete opposite of him.
What did you really want? It didn't matter; in the end, he was just your superior, your coach, not your friend or lover.
His blood ran cold when the doctor told him Kennedy had just grabbed a few things from the first-aid kit and gone back to his room. His mind raced: you, with that rookie, alone in that filthy room full of old bunk beds. No matter what you two were doing, he'd take you with him, back to your training by his side instead of with Leon, just like it always was.
His steps were light as he entered the cabin, as if he didn't want to be discovered for some reason he couldn't understand. His forehead began to sweat when he noticed the door to the room was ajar, feeling a rush of excitement or adrenaline.
Without thinking, he approached, feeling his heart sink but then race as he peered through the crack. He made as little noise as possible, listening even more intently to your heavy breathing and the sound of the cheap mattress creaking.
On the other side of the room, you enjoyed the view Leon was giving you from beneath you, his hands snaking up to your hips in a desperate attempt to feel your skin and, at the same time, a futile effort to control your rhythm as you rode him, afraid that the wet sounds that made him shudder would be heard beyond the two of you. Unlike him, you seemed able to remain silent, unable to stop yourself from rocking faster and faster when you heard his whimpers, only to slow the movement of your hips again, making Leon's breathing unsteady once more.
You liked the power you now held over him, you loved Leon's sensitivity; it was a sensitivity you needed.
Krauser froze there, frowning but unable to move. He felt pathetic how, instead of getting angry at all the commotion, he started to feel himself getting hard, but he wasn't weak and stupid enough to masturbate right there.
He wasn't like you and that useless pretty boy; he had the instincts of a soldier.
As Leon squeezed his eyes shut, you let your palm slide up his shirt again, exposing him more to you. You touched him beneath the fabric as he arched his back slightly, almost pleadingly. You let out a stifled sigh as your gaze absorbed every inch of his chest that Leon had to offer. He tried to move his hips too, and when you sensed another sound about to escape him, you covered his mouth, frowning, though you weren't truly upset. You just wanted this to be between you and him, the only thing that was truly yours, just like Krauser was.
Just a secret, nothing dirty compared to everything you knew this place was hiding.
Even so, you managed to hear a muffled groan from Leon. You spread your legs even wider and noticed how his gaze automatically dropped to where you were connected. It seemed to exasperate him even more because you saw his attempts to move his hips against yours intensify, but you wouldn't let him. You gasped as you removed your palm from his mouth, only to then slip two fingers inside, feeling your body heat up even more as you watched Leon, without even thinking, automatically run his tongue over your fingers, almost sucking, before licking it as if he wanted to feel anything from you.
That made you moan, not as loudly as he could, but it was impossible for you to deny all the pleasure this boy, younger than you, could give you, and how he wanted to give it to you with enthusiasm and without even hesitation.
When he noticed how you couldn't stop touching his chest beneath his shirt, which was soaked with a sweat that went beyond the sweat of training, he frowned, already too pussydrunk even though it hadn't been that long since he entered you. Unable to resist, his hand, which was gripping your hip tightly, snaked its way down your skin to your stomach, brushing against the hem of your shirt, which now felt too tight.
Leon couldn't plead with words, but just seeing those blue eyes that brought you both peace and heat made you smirk. You nodded at his clear request, grabbing his wrist as you felt him lift the fabric with such agility and speed that it showed the fruits of his training. You weren't even guiding him or trying to force your grip; you were simply touching him as a kind of encouragement.
Before you could even enjoy his hand on you, Leon was already pulling up your shirt, hungrily exposing your chest. His gaze automatically locked fiercely on your breasts, making his breathing even heavier and causing him to gasp through your wet fingers, which you decided to remove as you felt him kneading your tits, not caring that you were still wearing your sports bra.
Krauser remained silent, his eyes widening. He had seen you naked before, but seeing you like this again intensified that familiar heat within him. He couldn't give in; he was supposed to be furious, but instead, he unbuttoned his pants, running his fingers over the hardness that was building with every sound you made and every bit of skin he could see through the door.
The only annoyance he had at that moment was that Leon seemed to be louder than you, ruining the moment because all he wanted to focus on was you. His desire to have you again grew stronger; he wanted you back in his bed—which was private, anyway—at his desk, or in those shitty bathrooms here. He wanted to feel your pussy again and touch you with his mouth, not just his hands.
Krauser needed to fuck you again. He couldn't believe he was thinking about that right when you were riding the guy he despised so much.
Did you like the rookie's hands on you, or did you prefer how he roamed your body with rough touches? What if you hadn't enjoyed it with him, but you had with Leon? What if that's why you're leaving for good and decide to be Leon's coworker after you graduate?
Jack's gaze hardened, almost pained, but despite the feeling in his chest, his cock didn't seem to share the melancholy. He cursed himself inwardly for being so depraved for you.
And all you could do was bite your lip to avoid making any obscene noises. Although Leon wanted to see you as needy as he was, it seemed impossible to break you. So he had no choice but to accept it, moaning sharply but softly as he continued to touch and squeeze your breasts, bringing them together just to see your cleavage because you had already made it clear that you wouldn't take off your bra. You didn't want to risk anything more, so Leon savored every last bit you gave him.
You closed your eyes for a moment, tilting your head back, letting yourself be carried away by the way the tip of his cock reached a deep point that made you want to forget everything. You tried to forget you were in forced training, all the horrors you'd witnessed in your youth, and the fear of what you'd do once you left.
Krauser's face flashed into your mind, making you open your eyes and groan loudly for the first time. Leon's fingers on your waist only tightened, leaving red marks.
You unconsciously lowered your head, staring as his penis was buried deep inside you, sliding in and out erratically as if it distracted you. But then you heard him whisper your name in that delicious way that made you melt, and you automatically looked into his eyes, wanting to simply lean down and kiss him, feel his cheeks against your lips. But you didn't dare, so you just leaned forward with your eyes half-closed until your foreheads touched, making eye contact that focused him even more on the movement of your hips and how you were unconsciously riding him faster and wilder.
That wet sound of your sweating skin against his drove Krauser crazy, hating Leon for being a submissive dog who couldn't even keep up with you. He definitely did much better that night with you. Jack wasn't masturbating; his fingers were only lightly touching his erection, but he was so excited to see you like this again that he could feel close.
Pathetic.
He and Leon were pathetic for you. Krauser acted like the tough guy who could dominate you at any moment, even outside of sex, but it always seemed like you were in control. That knowledge made his head spin.
With your mind also spinning with pleasure, you began to quickly touch Leon's entire exposed body while he was more focused on making you come with his new rhythm that he had finally established. His attention left your tits and now he decided to brush his thumb against your clit, making your back arch completely as if you had been pleasurably electrocuted, bringing you back to reality and finally leaving behind all the thoughts that were preventing you from being aware of the situation you were in. You were having sex with Leon, not with Krauser. You had to stop thinking about your superior while the penis of the handsome new guy made you soaking wet.
“Leon!” You gasped without any shame, closing your eyes as your fists gripped his shirt tightly, so tightly he was afraid you'd tear it. But nothing compared to the climax he was about to give you. Your hips wobbled, and you felt your thighs tremble as you finally succumbed to the pleasure you had been waiting for.
Leon's fingers dug into the flesh of your thigh, groaning as he felt the satisfaction of making you squeeze. When he felt the wetness trickle down one of your legs and you suddenly went still, trying to process the euphoria, he didn't stop rubbing against you, making you whine as he too felt himself on the edge of the pleasurable abyss he had needed for so long, locked away here.
“I want it,” you murmured hungrily, your face so close to his as he gazed at you with adoration. Leon swallowed, nervous about coming inside you, too pussy-drunk to respond with anything hot. His hand released your thigh, touching the side of your head, feeling the strands of your hair. "I want you." That was his answer.
You froze like a statue at those words, stunned, as Leon closed his eyes again and groaned. You moaned once you snapped back to reality, trying to ignore the feeling in your heart that those simple words, spoken in that sweet voice of that rookie's, had stirred.
With a pleasurable sigh, you lowered your hand to touch his dick, moving your hips upward until, with a loud groan from him, you pulled out just in time for him to ejaculate outside. His hands on your hips and breasts made you feel almost painful for a split second before Leon noticed and softened his touch. You frowned, wanting to feel that burning pain, that different kind of pain from the others that Krauser had made you experience.
You touched Leon's cheek as he seemed to become restless, feeling his semen on your abdomen and part of it on the inside of your thigh. Leon ran his fingertips over the fluids that were sliding down you, staring intently, mesmerized, enjoying how you shuddered at the touch.
On the other side of the door, Krauser's heavy, silent breathing subtly mingled with yours and Leon's, equally mesmerized by the sight of the two of you reaching orgasm. He lowered his gaze, the collar of his black shirt soaked as if he'd run his hand down the entire block, clicking his tongue as he realized he'd come in his pants while his rival had come on your body. Pathetic, but at least he could have the satisfaction of cumming in your mouth that night.
He watched as you seemed almost at peace, so different from how you'd appeared with him. Your skin wasn't glistening with sweat, and you didn't look so weak you couldn't even move. Back then, you'd seemed wild, wanting more, but now with Leon, you looked completely different. The show was over. Now, Krauser's cold heart felt something akin to pain. Perhaps it was possessiveness or jealousy, but he didn't want to watch any longer. He slowly moved away from the door, as silent as ever, already imagining all the post-sex affection someone as gentle as Leon could give you as he turned away.
Meanwhile, you and Leon stood looking at each other, your chests rising and falling in unison as you tried to control your breathing.
I want you.
How could he have said that to you? Doesn't he know the effect those sweet words have in a place of torture like this?
Leon's eyes were almost teary, saliva still dripping from his lips as he removed his hand from your hair. Before you could process everything, he stopped lying down completely and rested his forehead on your bare shoulder, his fingers lightly brushing the clasp of your bra before letting go and beginning to caress your back, his nose brushing against your neck as you blushed even more from the tickle of his breath on your skin.
You touched the back of his neck, hesitating to stroke the hair you loved so much.
This wasn't right. You hadn't even cared about having sex in such an exposed place, but this? You could feel warmth, an expression of affection forbidden at a bootcamp like this. Your heart beat in sync with his, and your gaze lingered on the few scars he was beginning to get.
Again, you heard Leon whisper your name, almost sighing, like a young man in love having his first time with his girlfriend.
Your hand left his golden hair and rested on his shoulder, pulling him away from you and making him finally open his eyes. He looked at you now with bewilderment, though he quickly returned to the reality where it wasn't just the two of you. There wasn't time for anything more intimate than sex; there couldn't be anything romantic here, and Leon seemed to understand that, though he was certainly aware of the whole situation.
"I hope you enjoyed it, but not now." It was all you could manage to say to break the ice and make everything even more tense. Leon nodded, head bowed, without looking as you got off him to put your uniform back on. He pulled down his shirt, missing your obscene touch, but this was the cruel reality he had to face, and your heart ached to see his emotional disappointment.
You simply wanted everyone to be happy.
You sighed, and once everything was clean, and with Leon already pulling up his pants, you leaned toward him again. Leon looked at you shyly as his fingers began to button your pants.
"Major?"
A voice from a distance made him stop, while you remained frozen like a statue.
hi i liked your fics smmm, what do you think about fic where mello cries in front of the reader and the reader who really doesn't know how to react?🫢 maybe emotional detached or reserved a little, yk someone who isnt as emotional as mello (opposites attract 😼)
Worthless Child
"You are a worthless child. The most worthless child in the whole world"
๋࣭ ⭑ Mello x Fem! Reader ๋࣭ ⭑
Read on AO3
“You don’t understand, do you?”
Mello’s palms tapped helplessly on the desk. You noticed them trembling as he clenched them into fists, though he didn’t strike the surface.
“Near is gaining the upper hand with Kira. I can’t afford to let that happen.”
Despite his calmly cold voice, his actions told a different story. You shuddered at the loud thud of him throwing the books to the floor, not caring that they weren’t his, or yours.
But you just stood there, in that unfamiliar hallway, hesitating to stand behind him and gently touch his back, comforting him like a little kid.
You ignored your heart; so many things were going through your head that comforting him was the last thing on your mind. You hated seeing Mello frustrated, and it hurt you somehow. You noticed he couldn't even look you in the eye like before.
"If I didn't understand, I wouldn't be trapped here with you, Mello."
Your tone of voice, the way you said those words, seemed to affect Mello's blood, making him fed up with you again, with that attitude of yours that only made the situation more tense.
You were cruel. Why couldn't you just go and hug him or say sweet words to him like he did to you?
And you didn't want him to keep risking his life; you didn't want any more deaths and sacrifices before your eyes. You had no other choice but to take a step forward, reaching out to touch him when you felt his chest begin to rise and fall heavily. The moment he felt your fingers brush against him, he turned, and before you could even process it, he pointed his gun at your forehead. All you could do was focus on the tears already welling in Mello's eyes, and all you could think about was one thing.
Childish.
That's what Mello was to you, a whiny kid who gets angry when someone takes candy from him.
And you couldn't do anything about it.
"You're just like him."
His words dripped with frustration, his grip tightened, and he hesitated as his finger grazed the trigger, unconsciously shifting his aim to the side but always returning to point it at your face.
He was saying that again, those simple, childish words made your heart sink, but not enough to make you react because you knew Mello was right; he was still that child repeating that phrase.
"You're just like him!"
That's what he'd said as he slapped your hand when he noticed you were struggling to even touch his shoulder, pushing you through the classroom doorway and walking down the hallways filled with laughter and innocent conversation. All the children still sitting at their desks remained silent, afraid Mello would come back and hurt them. Near stared at the door Mello had just left through, muttering something derogatory under his breath as the others around him nodded.
You stood there, clutching your arm from the force Mello had used on you. What really bothered you, though, were those whispers about him, only to then start praising Near for this recent exam.
"Are you going after him?" Linda appeared behind you, worried as always. "I don't want him to hurt you. Let Matt handle it." Her hands touched yours to stop you from following him.
You frowned, your eyes settling on Linda's warm hands touching yours. You hadn't planned to do this; if it were up to you, you'd let Mello have his tantrum as usual.
The urge to go along with him and comfort him, or at least try, surfaced in moments like these. Slowly, you removed your hand from Linda's, wondering if you could do that with Mello without him pouting at you.
Mello's knees drew up to his chest. The library was empty at this hour. While everyone else was outside eating lunch or playing, he sat there staring at the red marker that stood out on the paper. It wasn't a bad grade, of course not. Mello had never gotten a low grade in his entire life. On the contrary, he was always the one who stood out the most among all the students in this orphanage.
That is, until Near arrived, bringing him down, making him drop from number one to just second.
He gripped his exam so tightly that he crumpled the paper almost tore. He thought he had gotten an excellent grade, above average as always. But then Near appeared, surpassing him by just one damn number.
By a single point.
And all the other children had ignored him to go and worship Near as if he were the only superior one here.
Mello felt that familiar feeling in his chest and eyes that made him angry again. He muttered small curses for being so weak.
A child like him doesn't deserve to be L.
Then your face appeared in his mind. He saw your cold eyes staring at him when you noticed how distraught he was after everyone left with Near. He clung to the faint hope that you would touch him, that you would stay by his side as you had been since the first day.
But all he got was your empty gaze, your face with an expression he could only decipher as indifference. Was he worth nothing to you?
He gasped and, without even thinking, began to tear the paper, wanting to shred it and leave no trace of his loss, completely ignoring the tears that were already streaming down his face, soaking his cheeks.
Just as he was about to throw the pieces to the ground, he heard footsteps. His heart sank with panic. Without time to stand, he knelt down, ready to crawl silently.
"I knew you'd be here."
Mello froze at your voice, slowly turning to look at you over his shoulder.
It enraged him. He saw you standing there while he lay on the floor, weeping pathetically as if you were superior to him.
You were like Near; he knew it from the moment you entered the orphanage. But when he started spending time with you, Mello thought that perhaps you were different, that you actually felt, that you would be capable of holding his hand when he needed it, or when either of you wanted it.
That resentment he once harbored for you resurfaced suddenly, as if the years he spent with you had never existed.
"Why did you come all the way here? To mock me? Do you enjoy seeing me like this?" Mello shouted at you, his nails digging into the old wooden floor, dampening it slightly with his tears. "You have no idea how I feel, do you? You simply don't care."
He stared at you as he wept, and you stood there.
“You’re just like him, just as much of an idiot as Near, just another misfit who doesn’t know what it means to feel.” Mello’s voice was broken, no longer filled with fury, even though his face showed otherwise.
You weren’t sure what to do with this kid. You loved him, you loved Mello, but your body simply wouldn’t react, nor would your lips utter anything warm to soothe him.
Perhaps he was right; you were just like Near, the person he hated so much.
The best thing you could do was leave, because Mello seemed to despise you now.
Still hesitant, you bent down to look at him. Your hand slithered until it touched his, making him suddenly lift his head and look at you.
The silence slowly shifted from tense to calm. But Mello continued to cry, gripping your hand tightly until he pulled you down even further, roughly wrapping his arms around you.
You just froze, your heart racing faster and faster as your face burned.
Mello didn't care that you didn't return his hug; he just stayed there sobbing, clutching your shirt desperately.
Your clumsy pats on his back turned into gentle caresses, and you let him stay by your side as he tried to hold back his tears.
Mello's grip on the gun trembled again, until the sound of the apartment door opening finally made him lower the gun. Mello looked away, frowning, knowing he wouldn't be able to shoot you. He hadn't when he had the chance with Near. What made him think he could do it to you?
Halle appeared, surveying the mess you two had made in her living room. She clutched her purse tightly, sighing in frustration.
"You two aren't going to use my house as your marital spat arena. That wasn't the deal."
Mello remained silent, sulking at her comment, and slipped his gun back into his pocket, letting Halle return to her room, leaving you and Mello alone again.
He walked over to you, pulling out a cell phone he hadn't had before.
"I managed to get in touch with Matt. Are you coming with me, or are you planning to stay here?" Mello didn't look at you.
You could have stayed here with Halle and taken advantage of the safety she and Near could provide.
You simply touched Mello's arm, and he finally looked you in the eyes.
A weak smile appeared on your face, ready to follow him and carry out the plan, or perhaps it was he who was following you.
I'd be interested to hear your thoughts on Mello and Hal's 'relationship'. Both in the manga & the anime (but more so in the manga), I got the vibe that Hal had crush on/legitimately liked Mello, and she seems genuinely upset when he dies. But why? This is the guy most likely responsible for the death of her coworkers, and has pointed a gun at her on multiple occasions. Is it Ohba's sexism again? Or was she trying to trick Mello into giving her information by seducing him? I really can't tell.
I never thought Lidner had a crush on Mello or was even trying to seduce him, truth be told. I think her interest in him is largely pragmatic, with maybe a hint of having a soft spot for him, but… not in any attraction-way of it.
Like for one, I consider it incredibly unlikely she’s into him due to the age difference alone. When they meet she’s 29 and he’s 19, she has little reason to even see him as a full adult, let alone a viable sexual partner. I think the way she treats him is often very reflective of this age dynamic, much more than any of her conversations to Near who, despite being younger, is legally her boss. Lidner owes no such respect to Mello.
The two of them meet rather ominously ca. a day after Mello blows up his hideout. I say ominously because Mello is injured in LA area - Lidner lives in NYC, on the completely opposite coast. There is no way she’d have been able to make a 5 hour flight to LA and back without Near noticing, so she can’t have picked him up there intentionally. So rather than that, apparently Mello managed to drag his severely injured ass onto a plane without attracting attention and get to NYC almost immediately after blowing half his face off.… Ohba still doesn’t know how injuries work, news at 11.
Near said that Mello is very likely to have information on Gevanni and Lidner but let them live intentionally, so they could serve as future reference to him.So we can… reasonably assume he approached Lidner and tried to threaten her into helping him out? But that…. didn’t work out all that well, judging by how they interact when we see them a week later.
Mello lived in her apartment all that time and judging by her immediately raising her hand to shush him when she comes in, it is pretty much commonplace that he waits for her with a gun out in case it’s someone suspicious. She is no longer impressed or intimidated by this at all.
She makes that clear a second time in the shower scene, by explicitely mentioning that he can only threaten her with a gun but it’s not a very convincing threat either, so basically “you don’t own me, Mello.”Mello may still make attempts to threaten her, but she makes clear that she’s the one holding the power here.
⟡ summary: a young lawliet meets a new addition to wammy’s orphanage—an unusually quiet girl who he will soon find to be a precious part of his life.
⟡ content warnings: non-verbal!reader, reader is 8 years old along with lawliet!, fluff, teensy bit angsty, reader is described as an orphan/lost her parents + an unstable childhood, timeskip @ the end (pre-kira case) ᢉ𐭩 word count: 2480-ish
(explanation for some details in this fic @ the end!)
⟡ illi’s notez; everyone when user illumoria actually locks in on a fic and doesn’t just spew out blurbs: yoyoyo no way omgg 👀 layout credz!; @kittens4kitty, art credz!; @/_imm0ral_ on tiktok!
⟡ masterlist
Snow gracefully fell from the cloudy, grey England skies, coating the gravelly pavement like white icing adorning a cake. It was Christmas time in England, and everywhere you looked there were Reindeer hats, ornaments, green and red candies—but what you saw the most of there, were…families.
Nothing could replicate a family. You could dress up in a Santa costume and eat all of the Christmas cookies you’d only dream of having, but it would still be artificial. Fake. Having someone that took care of you, that laughed and squealed when you said your first word or took your first step—that was irreplaceable. It was real.
All around you Mothers and daughters walked side by side, holding shopping bags of presents to be opened and fawned over when received, while Fathers held their little boys upon their shoulders, daring them to see how many snowflakes they could catch on their tongue.
You deserved that too. You did.
Just the sight of what could’ve been—of a life you could’ve had made you feel uneasy. It made your stomach churn and throat close up—both either side effects of your emotions or the unsatisfied hunger in your stomach—you didn’t know, but what you did know is that your skin—even beneath your coat felt cold to the touch, and that walking around sulking, jealous of the children that didn’t have to suffer the way you did wasn’t going to make your own life any better.
You needed to accept your fate.
A soft sigh left your lips as your walking pace began to slow, a wisp of cold air puffing out from your lips. The weather wasn’t helping with your symptoms of fatigue, but luck had suddenly seemed to be on your side.
With a simple tilt of your head, you saw where you had stopped—the sign just below your head—almost teasing you.
“Miya’s Sweets!”
You couldn’t help but swallow as your eyes gazed over the pastries in display. Warm croissants,cookies—you read names of foods you’d never even heard of before.
With an eager appetite and triumphant feeling to forget about your past, you walked into the bakery. Immediately you were hit with the smell of fresh dough and sweet chocolate, a scent so mesmerizing it made you shudder. It was warm as well, so cozy… The establishment was relatively empty to your initial surprise, but maybe it was due to it being just a few days before Christmas. Everyone was inside. Together.
Stop thinking about that. Stop. Stop. Stop—
“Oh my! Hello there, sweetheart! Are…are your parents with you?”
Your head instantly shot up at the soft voice, a beautiful face matching it. You slowly walked up to the front of the cash register, your chin barely touching the top—before locking eyes with the cashier and simply shaking your head.
She stared down blankly at you for a moment, a puzzled look etching her features. “Ahh…well—are they just shopping around?” Was she trying to convince herself that you weren’t alone…or you?
It’s better to play it safe.
You nodded your head.
The cashier—who’s name you learned was Mona from her name tag—then let out a noise of relief, instantly alleviated of her worry that you were here alone. A sad kid.
She wasn’t wrong, unfortunately.
“Anything I can get for you today, hon? Maybe you just want to sit down and wait for your mom—“
Without missing a beat you trotted on over to the display case, pointing at a sandwich with a small pink cake pop accompanying it in the meal.
Mona smiled at your antics, brushing your silence off as “just being a child.”
“Coming right up!”
You nodded your head once more before plopping down in one of the free seats, noticing a few of the other adults sitting by watching you. Was it truly that much of a spectacle for a kid to walk alone..?
Maybe for them.
Just ignore it.
You busy yourself with the salt and pepper shakers, napkins, and utensils on top of the table—fiddling with them as if they were toys.
Shake shake shake. Even that got boring after a while…so you just sat there in your own silence, comfortable in your quiet.
“She seems off, Miya..I..I think she was lying about her parents earlier. She wouldn’t say a thing to me either…” Mona mumbled, facing the much older lady—the owner of the shop, with guilt written all over her face.
The grey-haired woman took one glance at you, and suddenly—your fate had changed.
“I’ll call someone.”
Just a few moments later, your bubble was popped by Mona’s voice, food in hand. Pride pushed aside—as much as an 8 year old could have—you instantly began to eat. You weren’t messy or desperate, you still had manners…but just from watching you, you could tell Mona knew you hadn’t eaten.
You were smart in that way. You always had been.
She smiled at you as you ate, her eyes occasionally darting towards the door. You didn’t think much of it as first as you took bites of your sandwich, but then she began to ask questions.
“You…your parents aren’t really with you..are they?”
Without hesitation you shook your head, continuing to chew slowly.
You should’ve said yea. Were you in trouble now..?
“Ah, well..Most kids who don’t have parents, we have a special place for them. Orphanages. They can help you there! Miya—the owner, she has friends there. They’ll be so nice and treat you well.” She smiled softly, the corners of her mouth weakening as she examined your face. An empty husk.
“You can have all the cake pops you want there.” She whispered, gently patting your head right before the door opened.
Right then and there did the puzzles finally begin to start sliding into place. Orphanage..? She was sending you away?
Wait. I don’t want to go.
Why weren’t the words coming out? Why were you still quiet?
You felt your eyes begin to burn with the weight of your tears, the stinging sensation and feeling of your throat slowly closing in on itself far too familiar.
“L-look..I..” Mona stammered, seeing your soft, chubby cheeks puff out as you tried to contain your tears. “I’m sorry, but I was just worried—You’ll be taken care of there. It hurt my heart to see you sitting there in silence…”
But i’m fine. I’m fine can’t you hear me?
Slow, heavy footsteps approached behind you before you could register them—the musk of woody cologne infiltrating your senses. It smelt nostalgic while simultaneously sickening.
“H-h—“ hiccup. That was all you could get out. All you had a chance to really, before you were escorted out, placed into a car far too big and far too extravagant.
You didn’t protest when you were walked out of the establishment. Didn’t make a scene or cause a mess, you simply followed them outside, but just a second before you were gone, you caught her eye. Miya. The elderly woman. The owner.
People like her were mandated reporters weren’t they? Even if she wasn’t, it’s hard not to call someone for help when they see a child alone.
You already missed the warmth of the bakery. You missed Mona, and the kindness she displayed even though she’d just assumed you were another orphan. You were, weren’t you?
Maybe it was for the best to be somewhere else. A place you’d at least have a bed to sleep on and rest your head, food in your stomach, and cake pops. Mona promised cake pops.
Pink, sprinkled…cake pops.
When you arrived at the orphanage, you first took a moment to dust off your coat before examining the architecture. It was a huge building, sharp detailing carved into the front. It was pretty to look at.
“Come here, sweetheart. Follow me.”
She’d driven the vehicle here—the only person in the car. She seemed kind, and yet hesitance lingered in your heart.
She noticed your nervousness, simply smiling when you stood still. “I don’t bite. C’mon, you don’t have to hold my hand if you don’t want to.”
Maybe it was her saccharine voice or inviting smile, but you followed her, your tiny feet leaving imprints in the snow.
“Is that her? Miya sent me a phone call about a…lost girl.”
Those were the first few words you heard as you entered “Wammy’s.” The woman beside you nodded her head, folding her hands in front of her. “Yes, it’s her. Do…do you think she’s fit for Wammy’s..?”
The old man who’d spoken previously smiled in response. “We always have room for her if not.” He suddenly stooped down to your level, eyes crinkling at the corners.
“What’s your name..?”
Silence. You stare back at the man bent down in front of you, your eyes still slightly red from held back tears.
“Watari—“
“It’s alright, let her…let her explore for a bit while I gather the materials for an IQ test. It’s best to start there.”
The woman nodded her head, leading you into another hallway of the building. It wasn’t exactly quiet—muffled chatter spread around the halls, but it still seemed…dull. Boring. Lifeless.
“There are other children in these few rooms just further down the hall, they’ll keep you company for now while we…sort things out for you.”
You nodded your head, watching her walk back down the hallway before disappearing behind a corner, leaving you alone the same as before.
You let out a slow sigh, tentatively tip-toeing towards one of the doors. It was left slightly ajar, light flooding through the crack—allowing you just a peek of the boy inside, playing with blocks. Carefully, you wrapped your fingers around the doorknob, gently pushing it open…
“…”
You both didn’t speak a peep when you encountered each other, the two of you as quiet as mice. You just…looked at each other. Observing as if you were each other’s science experiments.
He had dark black hair, it was a bit shaggy and fell just below his ears. For someone living in such a prestigious place, you’d assume they’d be more…well-groomed, but you weren’t there to judge.
You didn’t know why you were there, truly.
“Hello.”
A small spark of shock hit you, slightly stunned he’d broke the silence, but it was bound to happen eventually..
With a few steps forward you moved closer to him, a neutral expression on your face.
Say something. Say something…
You waved back at the boy, the tiniest hint of emotion briefly contorting his features.
“..How old are you?”
You raised your hands once more, sticking up your fingers in response.
“You’re eight too?”
A pause.
“I don’t get to see a lot of people my age. They’re usually younger. Infants, mainly.”
You allow yourself to sit down beside him, eyes wandering over to the toys in his lap. Blocks were stacked on top of each other, color coordinated and organized neatly.
Without a word he cautiously shoved them towards you, giving yourself a chance to play with something—but you still remained unmoving.
Your gaze drifted from the blocks back to the window covered in snow. Something about the snowflakes falling from the sky—so free and beautiful made you want to go back outside, experience the cold once more—experience that cafe…
Suddenly, you took the blocks—using the letters engraved in them to spell out: C A K E.
The boy let out a small smirk, staring down at the blocks.
“Cake.”
You nodded your head, smiling ever so slightly as you looked back up at him.
The boy quickly stood up, standing slightly hunched over as he walked over and out of the door—Not saying a word.
Silence was your own personal language you presumed, it was the best kind of communication. Nobody said anything, and you were left to just decipher their faces.
For the few minutes that you were left alone, it reminded yourself of the isolation you felt before today. Perhaps being transported to an orphanage wasn’t the best experience to gain social interaction, but this time…this time nobody had ignored you. They spoke to you like you were someone, not just a robot, and for the first time in a long time it felt that you had made a friend.
“Strawberry..” The boy walked back in, two pieces of strawberry shortcake in his hands. It wasn’t what you wanted, but perhaps the miscommunication of it all was the most beautiful thing about the interaction.
You smiled at him—really smiled, before accepting the plate, the syrupy strawberry on top sliding off slightly to the side.
“That’s the best part.”
You nodded your head, greedily nibbling on the berry, simultaneously keeping an eye on him. Just as he raised his fork, opening his mouth to take a bite—a bit of frosting caught on his nose.
“Hahaha!” You giggled, a genuine sound of excitement leaving your lips. It would’ve been something big to anyone else, but to him? To the strange little boy you bonded with over cake? He thought it was just as amusing…
“Amusing..” You whispered into the night, eyes slowly blinking awake as you felt familiar hands slide beneath your shirt.
“What’s so amusing?” L murmured, lithe fingers gently scratching your naval as he pressed himself against your back, his lips just below your ear.
You let out a sleepy sigh, smiling weakly as you reminisced upon the memory. “Do you remember when I first saw you, and we shared cake together..?”
“I do.”
“I was dreaming about that..thinking about how much of an awkward girl I was.” You chuckled, sliding your own hand over his under your night top.
“Children are often deemed awkward by others. They are judged too harshly, but sometimes we forget they truly are just children.”
“Are you saying I’m judging my past self too harshly..?”
“Precisely.”
You slowly shifted in L’s hold, twisting yourself so you could face your boyfriend—while he himself adjusted his hands on your waist.
“..Are you always this sweet, or is it the sugar on your tongue talking?”
“Questions like these are better answered with actions rather than words..”
“What are you suggesting—“
L’s lips answered for himself before you could even finish your sentence, soft mouth swallowing up those noises that threatened to escape you. It was truly ironic how vocal you were being now.
His hands gradually slid up to your cheek, his thumb rubbing against the soft skin.
“Sometimes I forget you’re just as big a pain now as you were back then.” You whispered against his lips, only pulling away for a breath of air.
“Will you still say that to me 20 years from now..?”
You pause for a minute, smiling as you lean back in. “L Lawliet, If i’m not poking fun at you 20 years from now then something has happened to me.” You laughed, watching L’s neutral expression melt into one of pure fondness.
“I…I hope to be the object of your ribbing then.”
🏷️: @daystarpoet @rengoatku @1cckedheart
the character “miya” knows watari, and is well aware of his many orphanages around the world so when she meets reader she feels a certain obligation to help her, and from there calls watari to aid in her care.
“will she fit in at wammys?” this question is asked by the driver, and it’s because even though watari owns many orphanages—wammy’s specifically is the only one curated for molding successors of L. asking if she will fit in at wammys is simply asking if reader will be one of L’s successors (aka the IQ test, etc…spoila alert: reader is! :3)
I just wanted to clear these two details up so the story would flow better and make more sense without any confusion!! :3
✶ leon kennedy isn’t the jealous type. that is until a unique mission shows you otherwise. (f!reader x any post-re2!leon)
a/n: felt inspired to do an anon request in between exam chaos: mission partner things, protective/jealous leon + some quickie smut. hope this delivers!
cw: minor moment of unwelcome touching by target (not graphic); NSFW (18+), explicit descriptions of sex, oral (both receiving), p/v penetration.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
You swipe condensation from the mirror, hotel bathroom still relentlessly foggy from your shower half an hour ago, to finish applying your final coat of mascara. With a squeak, your hand slips from its grip at the edge of the sink and you nearly drop the wand, catching it clumsily, black streaking your fingers. You pause, eyes closed, and inhale deeply.
Everything will be fine.
Your eyelids flutter open and you step back, taking in your reflection. Bare skin, a draped, loose cocktail dress that cuts so deeply there’s no imagination necessary. A stranger staring back at you, looking wholly uncomfortable.
You blow air through your lips with such force that they vibrate.
Leon’s voice greets you before you see him, back to you, speaking low into his phone, when you finally emerge. “Are you sure she has to do this? I can—,” he pauses, cut off.
Silence, then: “Yeah. I get it. Discreet. But this was the best you had?”
You’re close enough now to hear the voice on the other end. “—too much at stake if there’s even the smallest suspicion. Intel was clear that this is the way forward, morality aside.”
Face lined with irritation, looking ready to retort, he turns when he hears you rummaging through what will be your bag for the night.
You notice him only when the tinny, distant voice pipes up again. “Leon? You there?”
He’s blinking at you, slowly, deliberately, eyes on your bare legs, your hips, the plunging fabric adorning your chest.
“Yeah,” he trails. Then, clearer, with an almost imperceptible shake of his head. “Yeah, I’m here.” He averts his gaze. “We’ll get comms set up.”
Bag set, you face him fully as he hangs up. “Thanks for looking out, but I agreed to this.”
He nods, busying himself with looking anywhere but at you. “I know. Just doesn’t feel right sending you in alone.”
You snort and reach for your heels. “It’s not like I’m bait, just undercover. Two different things.” You drift to the bed closest to the door and begin fastening the straps up your ankles. “I can handle myself.”
Hands up, he sucks his cheek, turning his attention to the equipment spread across the room’s small desk.
---
Goosebumps dot your flesh where it meets the cold leather of his Porsche, knees locked together, eyes straight ahead to take in the neon facade of the club looming ever closer.
Leon reaches for the console to switch on your heated seat, and you meet him with a small smile. “Thanks.”
“Sure.” He glances sidelong at you, then forward. “Got everything down?”
“I do.” You’d run through the plan a hundred times in your mind already. Target: Maxwell Hirsch, bioweapons trader and avid collector of women—what a mix. Hence your presence here, barely dressed, heading into a club he’d been known to frequent. Recon confirmed tonight was no different.
“Just his facility badge. You don’t have to do anything crazy, yeah?”
You frown at him, then turn to look out the passenger window. “This ‘I’m worried’ thing you have going on is getting offensive.”
He huffs, barely a laugh. “We read the same file. He’s nasty.”
“Most of them are,” you murmur, focused absently on the blurred buildings sliding by.
Leon pulls a block away from the club’s entrance, offering a clear line of sight from your end but obstructed from the other. You breathe deeply, collecting yourself, then grab the door handle.
“Wait.”
His fingers brush the smooth skin of your neck, reaching to adjust the knot of the halter that had somehow loosened in the rush. He lingers at the goosebumps in the wake of his touch for a breath, two, eyes pausing where your pulse is visibly pounding in your throat.
He meets your gaze, then, and try as you do, you can’t ignore the subtle heat beneath the intensity. “If anything goes south, I’ll be right behind you.”
You nod, pressing the skin-colored, barely-there internal earpiece you wear in confirmation and assurance. “I’ll see you soon.”
He mock salutes as you exit, closing the car door behind you.
---
A few patrons shoot you appreciative glances as you approach and bypass the line. Even the bouncer gives you a once over as you flash your ID, an indulgent smirk tugging his lips. You return it, arching a brow, and he waves you into the booming, flashing abyss.
Leon’s voice crackles in your earpiece. ”Well, that was easy.”
“Is this an emergency? If not, quiet,” you whisper under your breath, lips barely moving. You hear him chuckle before the line goes silent again.
When you finally locate Hirsch, he’s at the bar, alone, nursing a glass of dark, rich liquid. A sharp intake of breath—a confidence booster—and you’re moving, training kicking in, morphing into the persona created for this to succeed.
You maneuver next to him, flagging the bartender down to order. You let your eyes travel slowly, lazily, around the bar, mildly uninterested, and you can feel him already drinking you in, sipping his bourbon.
The bartender returns to ask about payment. He interrupts. “She’s on my tab.”
Your eyes flit to him, curious. A serene smile splits your lips. “Thank you.”
The bar stool next to him squeaks as he tugs it. “You shouldn’t be paying for anything tonight.”
You oblige, sliding into the seat. “Drinking alone?”
“Protecting my peace,” he smirks, lifting his glass to his lips.
You laugh lightly. “In a club?”
He sips, eyes alight, then amends, “Different ideas of peace.” He casts his gaze outward over the crowd, distant. “There’s something about sitting in a crowded room, surrounded by chaos, just observing it all.” A deep breath and his eyes fall back to you.
“You’re alone tonight?”
You sip, then run your teeth over the corner of your bottom lip. “We have a similar idea of peace.”
He makes a noise low in his throat, intrigue plain on his face.
The conversation continues, drinks and subtle touches exchanged, a brush of his leg against yours, a hand on his thigh. When he turns to order another, your eyes dart to his pocket, a clear rectangular outline there, exposed just enough to see the familiar blue and green markings along the upper edge. So obvious, so stupid, that you have to reign in your laugh.
You edge your hand to his knee, fingers trailing upward. “Do you dance?”
---
Your hips move with the heavy thud of the bass, back to him where he’s pressed against you. His hands are on you, trailing down your bare sides, over your stomach. Swallowing the revulsion building in your chest, you turn to him, hands coming to his hips. He’s fully enamored now, sweat gleaming on his brow, and you lean close, nearly brushing his lips as your fingers slip against the plastic rectangle in his pocket, gently edging it out under the guise of brushed touches. You turn quickly, your back to him, and, left with nowhere safe to place the stolen badge, subtly slip it into the elastic of your underwear through the plunging fabric of your dress.
There’s a lull in the overwhelming thrum of the speakers as the music transitions, and you turn back to him, bringing your lips to his ear. “Bathroom,” you murmur, carrying his hand away until you step out of reach.
You wait until you’re safely down the dark hall. Out of sight and certain you weren’t followed, you speak into your earpiece. “I have it.”
Leon’s response is immediate, almost relieved. “Good. Get outta there. Can't listen to that bastard much longer."
You dip into the bathroom, ensuring it’s empty before replying. “I’ll meet you out front.”
---
Your ears ring in the sudden quiet as you're led out nearly 30 minutes later, Hirsch's arm tight and possessive around your waist. When he pauses, you indicate the Porsche sitting idle nearby.
He makes an appreciative noise in the back of his throat. “Nice car for a rideshare.”
An amused laugh. “I splurge.”
“Of course you do.” He slides his fingers down your back in an overly familiar gesture as you reach the rear passenger door, and you half turn to him, tamping down the urge to step out of his touch. “Well, this was fun.”
He smirks, pressing into you such that you’re backed into the car door, his hand squeezing your ass, low enough to tuck between your legs. The suddenness forces you to exhale slowly, fighting to maintain your controlled calm. “I’ll see you soon?”
The subtle click of a door opening—clearly not yours—sounds behind you.
“We’ll see.” The tang of the alcohol on his breath stings your nose as he gets close but no further—an attempt at a tease. Then he’s pressing away from you, backtracking and returning to the club without a look back. You watch him, playing your part until the moment he disappears, before you turn and open the door, slipping into the backseat.
A second slam echoes your own and you look up to see Leon watching you in the rearview, blue eyes sharp, hand still on his door handle.
Brow creased, frustration peaking, you look away. “I had it.”
His clipped laugh is low, dangerous. “Looked like it.”
---
The door has barely closed before you’re tossing your shoes to the side, half limping to the full-length mirror in the hall. Your dress clings to you, hair tousled, cheeks rosy, red marks imprinted into your skin from the straps of your heels.
Well, you certainly looked your part.
Resigned, you reach into your bag and turn to hold the badge, transferred during the journey back, up to Leon between your middle and pointer finger. “The fruits of our labor.”
The joking smile playing on your lips fades when you take him in, his eyes dark but soft where they touch you. He takes the badge, surveying it for only a moment before tossing it onto the foyer table beside you.
Heat, quick and heavy, settles in your core as his calloused hands come to rest on the bare skin of your waist. “You did good.” His voice is nearly a whisper. Gruff.
You inhale audibly, eyes searching his face as he trails gentle fingers up your bare back. “Can’t say I like how he touched you, though.”
Silence stretches, a yawning pause. And whether it’s the drinks, the lingering adrenaline, or both, quiet challenge laces your hoarse reply.
“Are you going to do something about it?”
Before you can regret it, a second thought barely formed, the corner of his lip twitches and he’s sinking to his knees, hands lowering to your hips. He gazes up at you now, decisive in a way that’s familiar but foreign in context.
You inhale again, just barely, mouth slightly parted, and he’s moving, edging the hem of your dress upward with slow, practiced hands. A finger hooks into the elastic of your underwear as he drags them down, lower, off. Your back comes to rest against the mirror, and he tucks his arm underneath your thigh, hoisting your leg up and over his shoulder.
His breath, steady and warm, tickles you, and he looks up in a final, silent question. The barest dip of your chin is all the confirmation he needs before his mouth, his tongue, begin their gentle exploration.
Your hand comes to rest at the base of his neck, the other in his hair, and his name escapes your lips on a breathy exhale. He sighs against you in turn, a groan, pressure increasing against the throbbing between your legs as he skillfully adapts to your needs.
The deft work of his tongue, your arousal, his eyes on you as you writhe in his hands—it’s all too much, and when release finally crashes into you, it’s quiet, physical, fingers tugging his hair, a violent roll of your hips while he holds you through it, unrelenting.
The moment he feels you relax, he’s rising, and you meet him, crushing your mouth to his. A simple pull of the knotted halter straps behind your neck is enough for your dress to fall, pooling around your ankles.
Then he’s lifting you and you’re straddling him as he carries you to the bed, mouths hot, tongues searching. He lays you back, taking a moment to pause and admire you with a reverence that makes you squirm.
You push up on one arm and pull him down with the other in a smooth exchange of position. A gentle shove to his chest and he’s leaning back onto the bed, humor wrought in his eyes. You go for his zipper, stripping his pants down his thighs, over his calves, and away.
The full length of him on display elicits an appreciative click of your tongue, and your hand meets his base as you lean in, running your fist upward while you take his tip between your lips. His hips twitch, pulling your gaze to him with resolute intent, then you’re plunging down, cheeks flexed as the edge of your tongue follows the motion.
You learn very quickly that despite his steady, dry demeanor, Leon isn’t quiet. And his ragged groans, his soft swearing are enough for your heart to thunder in your chest, your ache building once again.
When his noises change, become more guttural, you know it’s time to move.
You rise, climbing him and tugging his shirt up along with you. He discards it in a single swift motion, leaning up to claim your mouth with his. He’s slick where he meets the heat of your sex, and you try but fail to stifle your moan at the sensation, hips rocking, ready for him. With a grunt, he takes you by the waist and moves you with him further up the bed to rest against the headboard.
Here, you sink steadily onto him, rising and falling once, acclimating, and then you’re riding him, increasingly frantic, lost in the pleasure of him inside of you. His eyes are hungry, eager like you’ve never seen him before, taking in your flushed cheeks, your breasts, lips parted.
He clutches your hips with a soft “fuck,” fingers imprinting into your supple skin, and forces you slower, arms flexing with the effort. You whine in protest and he croons, voice a deep hum. “I know—that’s it. Let’s slow it down a bit.” He sucks two of his fingers and reaches for your clit, stroking soft circles, his other hand maintaining its heel on your pace.
You gasp, head tipped back, unable to help the tightening of your grip on his shoulders as the sensation of him, your mounting release, overwhelms you.
There’s no warning when he smoothly lifts you up and off, flipping you to your stomach, his chest toward your back. You arch, raising your hips to him, then rough hands seize your waist for the leverage to slide into you, pushing into a relentless rhythm that leaves you moaning, desperate, as he meets the most sensitive parts of you.
He stutters only for a moment to lean forward and cup the underside of your chin, pulling your face to him. “Gonna fuck him right off of you,” he pants between thrusts, words near slurring as he claims your mouth. You whimper into his parted lips, his name a song you can’t contain, and he keeps you here, pace quickening, breath sawing from his chest.
You feel him tighten and he releases you, forehead coming to the crook of your neck. A moment of bated breath, then he’s pulling out with a grunt, waves of sudden warmth on your back, his satisfaction uttered on a sluggish exhale.
You clutch the sheets on either side of your head, your own orgasm shattering through you, and his hands come to rest atop them, breath sending chills down your spine where he trails hot, urgent kisses.
It’s here you remain as you both shake from exertion, Leon’s hands over yours, slowly coming back into yourselves.
Seconds or minutes pass before you feel the mattress move beneath you as his weight leaves it, and you look up in time to watch his return, towel in hand. He brushes it gently along your back, then discards it, and you bounce from the force of him plopping back down chest-first beside you, arm thrown over the small of your back.
You’re the first to recover, slowly propping up on your elbows, eyes warm as you brush his tousled hair out of his face. His lips tug at the corners, lazy and content, and he closes his eyes, fingers stroking your opposite side where his hand meets your ribs.
“You looked gorgeous tonight, by the way.”
The words are a muffled garble where the side of his face pushes into the sheets, and you laugh, flicking him on the forehead.
hii! i really like your style and your fics about mello are perfect (if im being honest🫢). i liked "Make me behave like an animal" very much, especially the little flashback from wammy's house. so i wanna ask you, what you think about something more of this? like mello x reader being in trouble in wammy's house (maybe part of run away from the orphanage or just something ordinary like avoid of punishment from rodger together) thank you anyway for your job (if i have mistakes there im sorry, english isn't my first language😣)
GREAT ESCAPE 𓊆ྀི❤︎𓊇ྀི
.✦ ݁˖ Mello x fem! reader .✦ ݁˖
SUMMARY: Mello decides to escape the orphanage, but he doesn't know if he wants to leave without dragging you along with him.
TW: CANON MELLO, CANON MELLO, CANON MELLO
Thank you very much for the req, I love Mello Wammy era <33 English isn't my first language either, so don't worry (✿◡‿◡)
READ ON AO3 ୭ REQ HERE
‿̩͙⊱༒︎༻♱༺༒︎⊰‿̩͙
A silence echoed through Roger's office after Mello's harsh words. Roger stared wearily at the door through which Mello had just left. Near didn't even flinch.
The moment Mello stepped into his room, he slammed the door shut, unable to bear the sound of the children laughing and playing outside. It was infuriating how, having just received the worst news of his life, these naive kids were still there, as if they still held out hope of becoming L's successor alongside him.
But officially, today he stopped trying to be the next L. He would be better than him, he would be better than Near.
He started throwing everything he owned into his backpack without thinking. He didn't even care what he was carrying; he just wanted to escape and come up with a plan before Near and the FBI did. It was when he closed the bulging backpack that his mind went blank.
He didn't care what he was carrying; that was a lie.
He never thought he'd feel this deep longing inside him, and even less so for someone from this orphanage, where he couldn't stand anyone and they couldn't stand him.
He hesitated to do it. After all, you two were just teenagers, and you were just another orphan who was lucky enough not to hate. He had nowhere else to go, but he wasn't afraid, and hearing those childish noises in the hallway only made his blood boil.
Then all the kids glared at him as Mello started running around, his heart pounding with adrenaline as he reached your room, and then his heart skipped a beat when he saw the little stickers stuck there. He felt like time had stopped again, his hand slowly gripping your doorknob, as if he were analyzing it, but it was as if you were calling him.
You turned around startled when you heard the loud thud of your door opening, knocking the only stuffed animal you owned, the one Mello always teased, to the ground. You looked at him silently, expecting a sarcastic response, but you took a step forward, worried when you saw his chest rise and fall with anger.
“Mello?”
His head was down. You moved closer to him, reaching out to touch his shoulder.
“Mello, what happened in Roger’s office? You’re scaring me.”
“L died.”
There was that same deathly silence as when Roger had said those words. You froze, staring at Mello with an expression that made his blood boil. You stepped back, squeezing your eyes shut.
"You're lying."
Just as you were about to remove your hand from his shoulder, he grabbed your wrist tightly to stop you from moving any further.
"I'm not lying, L is dead, Kira killed him!"
"Mello, shut up!"
“Kira defeated L, you hear me? But he won’t defeat us.”
Your eyes widened at those words. Slowly, Mello loosened his grip on your wrist until he released it. His expression no longer seemed as agitated as it had been a few seconds before. You, too, remained silent for a few moments, until he exhaled.
“Near will be the next successor. That’s why I came to see you.”
You frowned. Your heart no longer wanted to know anything more about the situation. You turned your head away from him, your eyes returning to the small rabbit plushie still lying on your bedroom floor.
“Are you leaving?”
Your voice was low, still not daring to look at him, but he didn’t seem to care, or at least he understood what was going through your mind.
“With you.”
“Mihael, stop!”
He touched your wrist again when he noticed you were trying to cover your ears.
“We’re not kids anymore. I’ll catch Kira my way, but I need you by my side. I want us to stay together even after all this chaos is over.”
Your mind was racing. You glanced at your plushie over your shoulder and then saw his fingers touching yours. Despite that touch, Mello wasn’t even looking at you. Instead, he frowned as he stared at the ground.
Seeing that you were struggling to respond, Mello closed his eyes. He could have easily pushed you away, just like he had since the day he met you, said he knew you weren’t smart enough to understand, and then run away on his own.
But he couldn’t say that to you. Even though he couldn’t stand your presence sometimes, the two of you had been together since the beginning, and that was something he didn’t understand but let happen.
His attention fell on the window of your room, the sun was already hiding, the other children of the orphanage were enjoying playing in the garden with those orange tones full of nostalgia.
But he wasn't like those kids, he was better.
"You can do whatever you want, it's your decision, but I'm leaving this hell. You can come with me or not."
His voice was dry now, monotonous, as if none of this mattered to him, but the disappointment was evident in his eyes.
You just tried to hold back your tears. Mello simply came closer to hug you. It took a few minutes for you to hug him back. You closed your eyes as you felt his hands grip your shirt with a certain unconscious force.
"Mello… you don't have to leave."
"I'm sorry." With that whisper, he stepped away from you. You watched him disappear through your door. You knew this was the last time you would see him.
When Mello stepped out of the orphanage, he gazed at the dark sky for a few moments. He thought that when he reached your room, he would burst into tears, begging you to stay with him, to be by his side no matter where. But he wasn't going to drag you into this life he was about to have; he could perfectly well plan his life without you.
You managed to see his figure through the large window in Roger's office.
"I'm sorry about that, but it's good that you didn't accept his offer."
You didn't even turn to look at him.
"I know Mello was close to you, but you're much more than that, like all the kids here."
You remained silent as you heard the spoon clatter against Roger's cup.
"If you want, I can make you part of Near's support team to catch Kira."
When you got to the bed, you couldn't close your eyes. If you did, you saw Mello, walking away from you for the first time in your life.
Just as you noticed that the plushie was still on the floor in the darkness, you heard footsteps outside your room. Perhaps it was selfish hopes, the desire that Mello would come back just for you, that everything would return to normal and you would finally have a moment to confess all the romantic feelings you had not very well hidden.
But the only thing you saw once you opened the door was Matt.
“Are you leaving too?” You were annoyed by his blank stare, though a small smirk then appeared on his face.
“You’re crazy if you think I’m going to stay here too, and Mello’s waiting.” It was obvious Matt was trying to convince you. Had Mello asked him to do that? Because he was supposed to be the one coming to you, taking your hand, not Matt.
You glanced around, only to find the hallway empty and dark. Matt noticed.
“This is your last chance to decide: be a pawn of Near and the orphanage, or risk everything for the person you love most.” That malicious smile on Matt’s face showed he knew what he was doing, and you were also aware of his manipulative game.
But your heart burned. You remembered Roger’s words. It was either being an agent locked away forever with Near, or letting Mello take you to places where he wouldn't even guarantee your safety.
But at least you'd have someone to love by your side.
Like him, you didn't give much thought to what to pack either. Mihael was right; neither of you were kids. You left behind the small decorations in your room, the little figurines that cluttered your desk.
You didn't even feel anything when you stepped on that stuffed rabbit still lying on the floor. You just wanted to get out of there, your heart racing with panic as Matt smiled at you again, gesturing for you to finally leave Wammy's.
You'd never left the orphanage at this hour before, but you couldn't feel anything now, except for a shiver of what might happen next, or maybe it was just the wind. Your stomach churned at the smell of tobacco.
"Since when do you smoke?"
"Hmm? Oh, since I stole some cigarettes from one of the teachers last year."
You thought talking to Matt would calm you down, but that idiot clearly wouldn't act the way Mello would with you.
So much time passed that you doubted he was leading you. You looked down, inspecting your bag. You squinted. Was this a bad idea?
"Roger's going to kill me."
"Will you shut up?"
"I have to go back, take me back, Matt!"
"Shut your mouth already! You always act like a baby. I don't know how Mello even thought of taking you with him, I—"
The only sound you heard was your bag slipping from your hand. Your attention shifted from Matt's annoyance to what was behind him in the dim streetlights. You didn't know if it was your imagination, but it was as if you could hear him calling you, desperately.
Mello stared at you from the shadows, as if he couldn't believe you were there. Noticing his chocolate bar fall to the ground, you knew Matt hadn't asked him to bring you here. And Mello was probably about to storm off in anger, leaving you here alone forever.
Noticing the blond's gaze, Matt took a step back with a slight shiver, letting you go first.
You and Mello stared at each other in silence until you heard him murmur your real name. You didn't know how to react until he simply ran toward you. You thought he would shove you away.
But all you felt was his arms tighten around your neck, pulling you closer. You didn't reciprocate, but Mello didn't seem to care.
Matt stood there, watching you both silently.
When he pulled away, all he did was take your hand, leading you to walk with him. Still without saying a word, Matt followed behind. You didn't even care that you had left your bag with the few belongings you had behind you, along with the orphanage and the bright future Roger always made you believe you could have.
୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨
Voy a fingir que no escribí esto mientras escuchaba canciones de fnafhs (?
After the fight in the village square, you and Leon take stock of things.
(Cross-posted from Ao3)
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Chapter Index
A man was dead because of you.
One of many. It shouldn’t have bothered you, not after how many lives you’d taken these last few years. How many deaths you’d been responsible for, one way or another. None of them should have bothered you.
That didn’t stop your mind from lingering on the sound of Alviso’s screams, or the smell of his flesh melting off his bones. It didn’t stop you from thinking of Leon’s words, and the bite of his accusation, either.
You’d felt that accusation before. Seen the fury in blue eyes, the anger . . .
Thinking of that wasn’t an option. You couldn’t afford any more mistakes. That was the thought you lashed to yourself as you and Leon searched for the way forward. Not that the windmill was difficult to find. It was only a matter of heading down the path you’d tried to use to escape the square. This time, it was thankfully absent a chainsaw-wielding maniac, allowing you easier passage.
The voices you could hear from beyond the gate, though, heralded more troubles. So, after sharing a glance with the man at your side, you both proceeded slowly. Cautiously.
In the breaking light of day, you could see the dying leaves on the trees around you. You could smell hay on the breeze. Hay and livestock.
You’d never known bioweapons to raise livestock. But then, you’d never seen bioweapons like the ones you were facing here. Ones that were still so close to people, but not quite.
You tried not to think of that, either. There were other things to tend to. Things like the sight of more buildings of wood and stone up ahead. And beyond?
“There it is.” Leon caught sight of the spinning wooden frames just as you did, just on the other side of the buildings you approached. Those murmuring voices grew louder, and you and Leon both began walking with lighter footfalls. A man and a woman stood amidst the cattle and pigs, both at work, both muttering their chants like drones. After being swarmed in the village, you weren’t going to hesitate. You would take no more chances and, however surprising it was to you, neither would Leon. The two villagers were dealt with easily enough; the blade you’d given Leon cutting clean. That left the path to the windmill clear-
Only for a gate to stop your progress.
Leon had been right about one thing: nothing would be simple on this mission. That was becoming abundantly clear.
It was a heavy thing; wrought iron and wood, the kind that lifted up and down, pulled by chains. The kind of gate that well and truly meant business. And with no way around that you or Leon could see, opening it was the only option. “Let’s check inside,” you offered, eying a blue slip of paper pinned to the windmill’s side. When it offered only a request to destroy some medallions around, you disregarded it.
Not so easily ignored was what you found inside. Amidst the grinding of the windmill’s innards, you heard a faint beeping and stopped short just in time. The wire was almost invisible at first glance, suspended in the air at the level of your chest. It hid from the eye amidst the semi-darkness of the building, stretched across the expanse of the passage before you. And on one end? It was hooked to a wooden frame, a detonator, and a bundle of dynamite.
“Hell of a lot fancier than a bear trap,” Leon muttered, stepping closer to examine the work.
Work that you recognized the shape of; something you’d learned in the dark, with scarred hands holding a flashlight to illuminate your work-
Stop it.
Setting an explosive charge wasn’t knowledge exclusive to STRATCOM or its soldiers. Still, the fact that this was here? It was more proof to you that the men who’d taken the First Daughter from the States were entangled in this, somehow. Entangled in a web of bioweapons and reverence to something. Or someone.
Lord Saddler. You’d heard the name in the chants of the villagers, before they’d gone into that church. Another detail added to the mystery. One that you didn’t linger on for too long as Leon set about disarming the trap. Even if you knew that he’d mastered the skill years ago, you found yourself holding your breath until the detonator went silent. Then, carefully as you dared, you pried the dynamite out from the wooden case. You offered Leon one stick, then put the other in a pouch on your belt. Couldn’t afford to waste anything. Not when climbing the ladder of the windmill revealed yet another hurdle.
“Gotta fix everything ourselves,” Leon grumbled, as the two of you stood before the gate mechanism. One that was missing a decidedly essential gear.
“They’re trying to stop us from moving forward.”
“Or they just like leaving shit in random places,” Leon shrugged.
Or that.
You weren’t sure how his humor had survived all these years. Hell, if anything, it had gotten worse rather than being stamped out completely.
You almost envied him for it, but bad humor or not, you both had work to do.
Luckily, the missing cog wasn’t far - you both discovered that as you entered the barn attached to the windmill, the two of you having little trouble with the lone woman inside. Even if she managed to cry out, to announce your presence before you and Leon handled her, the pitchfork in her hands did little against you both.
Still, the two of you tensed as you heard voices from outside, the windows offering you a glimpse at more men approaching from the path to the village square. You ducked out of sight just as Leon did, the two of you crouching in the loft of the barn, waiting to see if you would have more company. When, after a few moments, you couldn’t hear those voices drawing closer, you both quickly moved down the ladder, pleased to see the missing cog waiting for you on a table.
You were less pleased, though, when your feet hit the ground, to hear the wood paneling at the front of the barn splinter.
Leon called your name from behind, and you whirled around just in time to see the wood shatter under a blow from the biggest hammer you’d seen in your life. And holding it?
A big motherfucker with a cow’s head. One who, with a savage roar, brought that hammer over his head, swinging right towards you.
Finally. Something you could focus on.
You avoided your brains becoming paste on the floor by mere inches, stepping to the side with a harsh exhale. Bigger weapons didn’t necessarily mean the opponent was slower, but bigger motions left more room for you to fill in the gaps. His commitment to the swing, no matter how much it cracked the stone of the floor beneath you, left him wide open for counterattack. Not only from you, but from the man behind you.
Leon didn’t hesitate, firing his pistol at the same time you pulled the trigger on your own.
You weren’t expecting those point-blank shots to put your new opponent down. Not when you had to shoot through the still-bloody cow head he’d tied to himself and into the no-doubt infected flesh underneath. Could he even see through the makeshift mask? You didn’t know. Sooner or later, you would find out. So, you backed away as you fired, and you were glad you did when that hammer came careening your way again, swung in an upwards arc.
Dodging back put you almost up against the wall of the barn, and the tools that were hung there. To your left, the cow-headed man was recovering from his swing. To your right, you could see four villagers rushing forward to help.
And at your back, a sledgehammer. Smaller than the one the brute in front of you wielded, but it would do. When you saw Leon fire his newfound shotgun, and a burst of pellets tore right into the macabre mask of your latest adversary? You didn’t waste the opportunity.
The massive man reached a hand up to his head, grunting in pain, the cow mask now punched into his skull in some places. A skull that you added further trauma to, spinning to get momentum before cracking the sledgehammer home. The blow sent your opponent forward, buying you a precious moment to hurl that sledgehammer in the other direction. You saw it cave in the face of one of the villagers, bones and cartilage crunching under its weight.
Then, because you were going to at least try to be a team player, you gave Leon a shout. “I’ll take them!” And then you were firing at the nearest of the three villagers still standing. You could take three opponents. Especially when you had a firearm at your disposal. The trouble was that, though you’d taken out one early, these opponents were prone to getting back up. You were reminded of that fact as you fought, and the man whose face you’d crushed began to twitch against the ground.
You could deal with that in a moment.
For now, you ducked under the swing of an axe, then fired into the back of the villager’s head when you came up on his other side-
Only to see Leon take a kick to the gut, sending him to the ground, legs going over his head. The cow-man laughed, mad and manic, and raised the hammer over his head. As he prepared to bring it down, you nearly forgot the promise you’d just made to trust your partner. You nearly forgot to breathe until you saw Leon roll out of the way, firing another shotgun blast to create some distance between him and his opponent.
And you nearly forgot yourself, managing to sidestep a pitchfork just in time, your distraction nearly earning you another wound.
This wasn’t going to work. And Leon knew it too.
“Get ready to duck!” was all he said as he charged towards you, knocking one of your opponents aside with a kick. Heading into the thick of it . . . and leading the enraged brute there too. An enraged brute who, if your assumption was correct, didn’t have the best vision underneath that cow head. Leon must have come to the same conclusion.
A few pistol shots were all it took to encourage him to come your way, from you and Leon both. Then, everything happened all at once; the mutated villager rising, the others closing in, Leon reaching your side . . . and the cow-headed man beginning his movement. He surged forward, spinning that massive hammer around his body in a circle that would shatter bone and break any body it connected with. And, seemingly unable to see his allies in the way (or maybe he just didn’t care), that hammer cleared a bloody and broken path.
It splattered the newly risen creature, taking its already damaged head clean off. The other villagers tried to duck out of the way, but only one managed it, avoiding his head being turned into pulp. Just as your head might have been, if you and Leon hadn’t ducked just in time.
The survivor didn’t get to mount any sort of retaliation. Not after you dashed forward, taking up a fallen hatchet. You drove the blade first into the back of his knee, then the back of his neck. Blood splattered over the black material of your coat as he fell forward, and you whirled just in time to see Leon fire the shotgun into the cow-man’s body one final time. That, at last, forced the massive brute to pause, blood pouring from the torn flesh of his wounds. He fell to his knees, the cow head’s slackened jaw bouncing as he thudded to the ground. The borrowed visage offered no emotion to discern as Leon used your knife to finish the job.
It was over, then, just as quickly as it began, leaving just the sounds of the windmill and the livestock, impassive towards the fight that had just occurred.
Your focus, though, turned immediately towards the man who’d fought at your side . . . and you found yourself sent back five years as he offered you a nod over his shoulder.
A nod, and the faintest of smiles.
“You good?”
“Yeah,” you answered. “You?”
“Great. Glad they don’t have a better choice of headgear,” Leon huffed, looking down at the brute’s body at his feet.
Again, you had to deadpan, and you knew it wouldn’t be the last time.
You couldn’t tell if he was telling the jokes for your benefit or his own. Not that it would change things, either way. This was just one mission - however long it was shaping up to be - and when it was over, you would both go your separate ways once more. There was no use in friendships or anything else here. Not anymore. Not with someone like you. Not with someone who’d all but abandoned him. Who had your reputation. Who got people killed.
So then why, when you tossed a bag of gold coins back down on the table and picked up the missing windmill cog instead, did he throw another joke your way?
“Thought crows were supposed to like shiny things,” he said, his tone so dry you couldn’t tell how he’d meant the joke to land.
You just paused, blinking at him for a moment, before you shook your head and moved back towards the windmill. “When they’re useful, maybe.”
“Like knives?”
What was he trying to do? “Like knives.”
There was a pause before he spoke again, like he was deciding which words to allow out of the house. “Guess some things don’t change,” he said then, and the way his words sounded solemn - mournful, like he wished more had stayed the same . . . you were glad you were walking in front of him. Glad that he couldn’t see your expression as it twisted.
Still, whatever he was thinking, he helped you with the cog, climbing the ladder so you could pass it up to him. A few moments later, the gate was finally open and the two of you were moving towards a bridge.
Your thoughts stalked you the entire way across, as did something else. Something that you had tried far harder to outrun these last few years, which gained more and more ground with each bad joke. Something you pushed aside.
Focus.
A house lay ahead of you both, trapped behind another heavy gate. For a moment you thought you would need to vault over it to carry on, but a signpost caught your eye instead. One that pointed east, with a single word written on it.
Lago.
“The lake must be this way,” Leon observed, but there was little relief in his voice. You couldn’t blame him; even after years spent fighting the undead, the scent of rot never got more pleasant. That smell wrinkled your nose now, courtesy of the wagon blocking your path. One filled with deteriorating meat, and your second severed cow head of the day. This one just stared at you both, flies buzzing around as you pushed the wagon to the side.
And there, that something that you were trying to outrun, managed to catch up to you.
“There you go,” you said, taking Leon’s dry tone as your own. You gestured with a gloved hand to the carcass, then to Leon who, understandably, looked confused. So, you elaborated. “Condors are carrion birds, so that’s all yours.”
It was, in your mind, meant to shoot down his previous joke. To show that something as simple as codenames weren’t worth mentioning.
Instead, for the first time in years, you made Leon Kennedy laugh. Even if it was a muted thing, not half of what he’d once shared with you, it made something in you crack. A hairline fracture that you could not afford.
“Think I’ll pass,” he said, and you wished you could take it back. You shouldn’t be doing anything but finding the girl who’d been kidnapped, so that was what you did, shrugging again and pressing on.
You weren’t positive, but you were fairly certain that the rocks that nearly crushed you a moment later - courtesy of an explosion and the villagers on the cliff above you - were some kind of instant karma.
Whether that was karma for reaching out or for walking away just as quickly?
Tags: RE2!Leon x Fem!Reader, no apocalypse AU, smut, loss of virginity (Leon), mentions of public sex (blowjobs), masturbation (male), fingering (f), cowgirl position, unprotected sex, creampie, and more!
Note: Hey!! It's me again, and I've finally brought y'all something from our beloved rookie Leon. I missed y'all so much, i hope u like it! >.<
Leon sometimes felt like a bit of a failure. I mean, he wasn't that bad. He'd managed to graduate from the academy, landed a job at the R.P.D. station, and his superiors were so kind to him that he finally felt like he belonged somewhere. Until those conversations came along.
He always felt that pang of jealousy when he heard his colleagues talking about celebrating their anniversaries or how their beautiful girlfriends welcomed them home with open arms after long days at work. And all he got was a secondhand bed in his tiny rented apartment.
The truth was, Leon Virgin Kennedy had never touched a woman. Not even in his teens. He'd never gotten beyond an awkward, tongue-tied kiss at some drive-in theater in his hometown because the girls quickly lost interest when they noticed Leon's shaky hands.
And now there wasn't much time for dates. His behavior was too clumsy for flirting, and he wasn't one of those tough guys who attracted girls easily. He just sucked. He sucked, until he met you. Ah, God had finally answered his prayers because you'd agreed to go out with him after his attempt at flirting in the station's copy room.
"Are you, uh—are you free Friday night?" The words had slipped out with a hint of confidence, despite his hand slipping on a stack of photocopies. You laughed, of course, but agreed. Leon was going to have his first date since arriving in Raccoon City (loser).
The night had passed easily with silly conversation and easy laughter, ending with both of you sitting in his Jeep eating ice cream after a cheesy horror movie. After that, you gave him a good, wet make-out session in the back of his truck. The date ended with a sweet wave from your door, and Leon went home with a painful erection, pink cheeks, and swollen lips.
But you didn't stop there; you were on a mission to ruin him. You'd steal glances at him whenever you crossed paths at work, shamelessly rub your ass against him as you walked past, and he'd fall for it every single time because he had to run to the station bathroom with an erection in his blue uniform pants.
You even gave him a blowjob in the station bathroom. His first blowjob, at his damn workplace. Poor Leon came too fast, one hand tangled in your hair and his free hand to his lips so as not to attract the attention of his coworkers. After that, he walked around with unfocused eyes, as if he'd been high for the rest of the day.
He felt like a horny teenager again, unable to control the thing inside his pants and desperately jacking off after every date, thinking about your lips around him. And finally, the day came when you decided to take pity on this man. After a date at his apartment, few glasses of wine, and a delicious dinner, you decided to pounce on him. He simply thanked heaven that you made the first move, because he could barely maintain eye contact. But there was no time to think when he had you on top of him, moaning softly against his mouth.
You both stumbled into Leon's room and collapsed onto the small bed, which creaked a little too loudly. Your fingers tangled tightly in his hair, arching your back beneath him in anticipation as you felt him settle between your legs. Your clothes quickly became just a pile on his bedroom floor. His sweaty hands didn't know where to begin, so he chose to touch your tits first, feeling his fingers tremble against the tender flesh as he timidly squeezed them.
Then you guided one of his hands to your pussy, letting him feel the wetness blossoming between your open legs. He looked at you in surprise, as if he couldn't believe you were like this for him. After showing him how to touch you properly with his fingers, how you liked it, and what rhythm, you pushed him down so he was lying back. You climbed on top of him, stifling a giggle at the sight of his eyes wide with anticipation and his eager hands exploring your sides.
"You're...woah—perfect." he whispered with devotion, reverently caressing your thighs. He gazed at you as if the stars hung before him, his eyes shining beneath those thick lashes. He swallowed loudly as he watched you take him in your hand and guide him to your entrance, rubbing the tip first between your wet folds. He could feel the tip becoming completely wet with your arousal.
The mere provocation made his eyes close and he let out a low, almost trembling moan as he reflexively lifted his hips. From this angle, you could see his Adam's apple swaying and his arms, large from workouts, tensing as he gripped your hips tighter. He had no idea how incredibly sexy he looked like this.
With a smooth motion, the tip of his cock slid easily inside your hot walls, which swallowed it with equal eagerness. "Oh, hooly shit—" He groaned, his mouth opening at the sensation, his gaze fixed on where his cock was slowly disappearing inside you. His body trembled slightly with pleasure as the thick head of his cock reached its deepness point inside you.
His fingers dug into your hips, unsure whether to pull you closer or further away for the hot sensation of your walls tightening around him, letting him feel how wet you were, practically dripping all around him. His lips moved, but no words came out. He was already fucked just by being inside you.
You started to move, rubbing against him and teasing him before giving him what he really wanted. Although he was already breathing heavily, his cheeks flushed pink and his hair plastered to his sweaty forehead, as if he'd run a marathon. But he was just trying not to come too quickly.
"You feel like fucking heaven, I swear..." he whispered as his pretty face crinkled in a grimace of pure pleasure as he felt you begin to bounce on him. You leaned back, placing your hands on his thighs as you continued to ride him slowly, letting him see how his cock was buried to the last inch inside you and how your breasts swayed.
His thumb moved closer to gently lift the hood of your clit, beginning to make slow, careless circles as you rubbed against him, making you moan and throw your head back in pleasure.
When the friction wasn't enough, you leaned forward to place your hands on his chest and begin to ride him for real. You rode up and down every inch of his member, letting him see how wet you were getting him before he thrust deep inside you again. Having him inside felt so good that, combined with the way your clit was rubbing against his pelvis, you started to feel like you could come in record time.
"Wait, slower—" he whimpered, a real whimper, as his impotent hips lifted to chase your greedy pussy. "I'm gonna come, please…" He whined again, as if he were about to cry. His balls were full and tight, ready to empty at any moment. He was so adorable trying to hold on for a few more seconds, but the wet squelching of your pussy and your sweet moans weren't helping at all.
"it's okay, I want it inside—Give it to me." You murmured, your voice heavy with need and your face hot from bouncing on his cock as if you wanted to squeeze out every last drop of semen he had. All he could do was chase your lips, trying to kiss and hold you as he came completely, his hips contracting to push until every inch was inside, his balls buried deep. The sensation of his cock throbbing and shuddering inside you triggered your own orgasm, making you come around him with a small, muffled sob.
His moans were muffled in your mouth as he tried to hold you still, feeling you tremble from the aftershocks of your orgasm and catch your breath after filling you completely, feeling his hot load begin to overflow even with him still inside.
"I think I died and this is heaven." he whispered breathlessly, drenched in sweat, holding you tightly in his arms and inhaling your tousled hair, as if he needed you like he needed air. And maybe he did, because this man was already addicted and he wasn't going to let you go soon.
Let me know if you liked it and pleasee ignore any mistakes! 😚💕
𖹭❤︎13 DAYS OF LEON KENNEDY: a-dsoagent's 100 Followers Celebration❤︎𖹭
13 days of one-shots going through all the variations of Leon Kennedy in the games and CGI movies in honor of getting to 100 followers!!
Celebration timeline: Monday, May 11th-Saturday, May 23rd
All will be posted by 8pm EST!!
NOTE: I want to give a big thank you again for having me reach this huge milestone. This is all for you guys and I hope you love it!!<33
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❥ Monday, May 11th: The Leash Leads to Nothing
✦ Original Resident Evil 2 Leon Kennedy x Partner!Reader
✦ Summary: Two dog-lovers dog sitting for some cash, what could go wrong? (SFW)
❥ Tuesday, May 12th: A Sweet Treat for All Your Hard Work
✦ Resident Evil 2 Remake Leon Kennedy x Girlfriend!Reader
✦ Summary: Leon has graduated the top of his class at the police academy and has gotten the news he already got assigned to a police department. You think he deserves a reward. (NSFW)
❥ Wednesday, May 13th: The Pink Slip
✦ Darkside Chronicles Leon Kennedy x Nurse!Reader
✦ Summary: Leon has been a regular in your office recently for the most bizarre injuries. He blames it on being new to the training, but you’re growing suspicious. (SFW)
❥ Thursday, May 14th: Always, Even at 3AM
✦ Post RE2R-Pre RE4R Leon Kennedy x Agent Partner!Reader
✦ Summary: You and Leon came from Raccoon City and are now roommates as you go through training for the government. No one should go through night terrors alone. (SFW)
❥ Friday, May 15th: Oh. Oh...
✦ Original Resident Evil 4 Leon Kennedy x Agent Partner!Reader
✦ Summary: Leon has been telling you about this girl he has been crushing on. As his best friend, you try to help him out with his advances despite your own personal crush on him. (SFW)
❥ Saturday, May 16th: Pretty Please?
✦ Resident Evil 4 Remake Leon Kennedy x Girlfriend!Reader
✦ Summary: Leon has always been a gentle lover, but you request that he lets loose for once, and boy did he. (NSFW)
❥ Sunday, May 17th: My Hero
✦ Degeneration Leon Kennedy x Reader
✦ Summary: Your friends drunkenly left you alone and some bummy guy is hitting on you at the bar. Luckily, this stranger helps you out and makes your whole night better. (SFW)
❥ Monday, May 18th: Disinfectant
✦ Infinite Darkness Leon Kennedy x Office Co-worker!Reader
✦ Summary: After teasing Leon at work all day, you break his final straw. He goes to confront you about it, but he didn't think it'll lead into a janitor's closet… (NSFW)
❥ Tuesday, May 19th: Breakfast in Bed
✦ Damnation Leon Kennedy x Girlfriend!Reader
✦ Summary: He finally got the vacation he’s been asking for. First things first, he wakes up with you in his arms, and he is quite fond of the idea of having breakfast in bed… (NSFW)
❥ Wednesday, May 20th: Burning Water
✦ Resident Evil 6 Leon Kennedy x Partner!Reader
✦ Summary: It’s date night, and Leon takes on the cooking from home this time. This can either end up good, or bad. (SFW)
❥ Thursday, May 21st: The Therapy-Line
✦ Vendetta Leon Kennedy x Agent Partner!Reader
✦ Summary: You were getting really worried about Leon's alcoholic tendencies and reminded him how you will always be here for him when he needs it in any way. After some consideration, he takes up on your offer. (NSFW)
❥ Friday, May 22nd: Oh Dang it, I Missed it!
✦ Death Island Leon Kennedy x Pregnant!Reader
✦ Summary: The three times Leon missed your baby kick, and the one time he didn't. (SFW)
❥ Saturday, May 23rd: Yes, Officer?
✦ Resident Evil Requiem Leon Kennedy x Wife!Reader
✦ Summary: One day, as you’re doing your spring cleaning, you come across Leon’s old RPD uniform. You ask him to try it on, but you didn't think you’ll like it as much as you did. (NSFW)
