CW: non-sexual nudity (even though it’s mainly just breasts)
Character sheets for Narinder and Amos!
(These had actually been done for a few days, but I just forgot to post these lmao) (Also the bottom two are versions w/o the texture)
The other character sheets for the bishops and other characters in my AU are work in progresses, so I’ll make a full post with all of their sheets once they’re done!
This is a part of my Ex-Husband!Leon series. His wife is AFAB. The wife is written to be of Chinese-Asian ethnicity and heritage. There are no specific mentions of her appearance, but there are moments that reflects on her cultural upbringing (i.e., the East Asian significance of sons). They met during his Degeneration era, married after Infinite Darkness, and divorced after RE6. At this point in the storyline (2008), they had just recently welcomed their first child, a son, “Aaron” in the summer.
Summary: The government owns Leon outside the sanctuary that is his home with her, but now - within these same walls - his son has laid exclusive claim on his wife. What remains is the aching, stolen space between feedings and deployments, where two people who used to devour each other now barely touch. Tonight, the nursery is hushed, the baby was milk-drunk and sleeping, and the hunger between them finally outweighs the patience. He wants what the baby has. She wants her husband back. Neither can keep pretending the distance isn’t killing them.
If you like this, you might like: [I Love You]
⚠️ CW: Reader’s breasts are swollen and sensitive, Leon is needy for skinship and curious about the nectar of life (breast milk), consensual breast play and lactation kink between two lawfully wedded adults. If you like being praised, then you are in for a treat because he keeps on calling her “perfect”. This does take place in the nursery, so their son is present - but this isn’t about exhibitionism, they are just very desperate for each other.
Content warnings are labeled and tagged. If this type of content/theme upsets you, then please IGNORE-BLOCK-MOVE ON. Please exercise your heading comprehension and heed the warnings above. This is my writing and my blog, not yours. You have the choice of curating your online experience - utilize the block and filter feature. Any interactions you make with this post and blog is voluntary on your behalf and an expression of your interest in such themes. Rudeness & attempts to overstep boundaries will NOT be tolerated.
The nursery had settled into that rare fragile silence that only came after a successful feeding, when the world seemed to hold its breath for a sleeping child. The dim amber glow of the nightlight painted soft halos across the pale walls, gilding the curve of the crib where Aaron lay. He was milk-drunk and just absolutely perfect, as his tiny chest rising and falling with the steady rhythm of deep sleep.
He was three months old now. Every time she looked at him, her heart performed that same astonished somersault - this was the child she and Leon had made together, the living and breathing proof of their love made tangible. She adjusted his blanket with infinite care, her fingers lingering on the cotton as her gaze tracing the sweep of his eyelashes against his cheeks.
He was perfection.
A miniature copy of his father. The faint indent of the cleft between his jaw already hinting beneath baby fat. The stubborn set of his brow which had given him a look of maturity. Then, the same brunette hair as his father’s, curled at his crown. Only his eyes were hers, dark luminous pools of warmth that stared up at her with a devotion which mirrored her own.
She admired this little bundle of infinite joy.
A son.
His son.
The pride that bloomed in her chest and made her lips curve up in a satisfying smile. In the quiet of her heart, where the echoes of her heritage still lingered, there was a deep private satisfaction in knowing she had given Leon a son as their firstborn: a son symbolized the continuation of the father’s legacy, his bloodline.
It was a silly thought, especially now that they were in the modern era. But it was still an unshakable remnant of the tradition that defined her heritage.
She knew the gender of their baby never mattered. Not to her, and definitely not with Leon - who had ever cared about such things. Leon would have been over the moon with a girl just as well, and he had always reminded her of that whenever she would instinctively refer to the life she carried within her as a boy.
It was such an old fashioned way of thought, but - the way with how the culture of her heritage had been so deeply embedded into her - made such seemingly trivial things still matter to her.
She leaned over the crib rail, pressing the softest kiss to Aaron’s forehead as she breathed in the sweet powdery scent of him.
My love, she thought. Our love.
He is the physical manifestation of everything she felt for Leon: every stolen glance, every desperate touch, every promise whispered in the dark before his work tore him away from her. And, now, here was the result of the promise they had forged with their love: warm, real, and sleeping peacefully.
She did not hear him approach. Leon had always moved like that - silent, deliberate, like a ghost of a man who had spent too many years learning how to disappear into shadows. But she felt his gentle presence before his steady arms wrapped her waist, while the solid warmth of his chest pressed against her back as his chin nuzzling the side of her head. She melted into him instinctively, her body recognizing its home even before her mind caught up.
“You’re so prefect.” He murmured in a low pitched voice that was rough velvet against her ear. “Look at our son.” His hands spreading wide across her stomach, pulling her closer. “Sleeping like that because his perfect mother gives him everything he could ever want for.”
Perfect? She was far from perfect, but she tries for him and now for their son as well. She smiled, leaning her head back against his shoulder, letting her hands coming to rest over his where they locked at her waist. “He’s the perfect one, he takes after his father.”
“…his father.” Leon repeated, and there was something darkly amused in his tone. “Did you mean the man who hasn’t been able to touch his wife properly in what feels like a lifetime?”
She turned her head just enough to catch the hunger in his eyes. That same sharp focused gaze that had first captured her back in the winter of 2005, but now it had softened at the edges as faint lines settled around his eyes.
His lips found the shell of her ear, brushing a kiss over the sensitive skin. “Meanwhile, his son gets VIP access to his wife on demand.” He teased the cartilage with a gentle nip. “Three, four times a day? Must be nice.”
“Leon-!” A laugh escaped her, breathless and scandalized, but his words made the heat pool in her core.
He let out his own chuckle, joining her in their moment of comedic joy. The words might’ve been delivered as a joke, but she had come to learn how his sense of humour often indicated a truth. And, she was painfully aware of how literal those words were despite the playful tone.
She knew the timeline as well as he did.
They had to adjust their usual intimacy starting when the final trimester had rendered her body too rigid to bend and fold like she had used to. Then, there was the weeks of recovery after Aaron’s birth - she had been stitched and was still sore, all while learning how to be a mother. However, Leon’s work had made it things even harder. The classified calls at odd hours. The way he would kiss her forehead at 3 AM and vanish into the dark, leaving only the faint scent of his aftershave on his pillow with no promise of when he would return - or if he would return.
Although she didn’t know the specifics of his work, she knew he must be important to the government: the way his absence served some shadowed purpose he could never disclose. She had learned not to ask. But, she had also learned to hoard and cherish every moment he was home. It had used to be just the two of them, but now the arrival of their son had altered their usual lifestyle - settling into a routine where exhaustion always won and intimacy became a casualty of survival.
And now he was here. And he was looking at her as if he were starving.
“I’ve missed you.” She whispered a heartfelt confession.
His arms tightened. “Not as much as I’ve missed you.”
They shared a tender moment together. Her back pressed flush against his toned chest, feeling the synchronization of their heartbeats as they both looked lovingly at their son.
It was an odd feeling. The infant was the natural product of their vigorous lovemaking, but yet he was also the reason for its diminishment. She loves her son and was overjoyed with his physical arrival into her world, but she can’t help but to achingly miss the process of conceiving him.
“He’s got your eyes.” Leon broke the silence. She feels his hands sliding upward from their original position with agonizing slowness. Knowing just exactly what mischief he was up to, she lets out a sigh.
As he approached his target, he lets his thumbs trace the bottom curve of her breasts through the thin silk of her negligee. “And your stubbornness.” He teases. She lets out a soft moan at the sensation that caused her back to arch deeper into him. “Your inability to stay mad at me for more than five minutes.”
He kneads the tender flesh gently to provoke another moan out of her. She bit her lip to stifle the upcoming whimper as her eyes instinctively darts towards the crib. “But these...” He continued with his voice dropping to a gravelly whisper. “These have been off-limits for far too long.” His thumbs brushing over her already-sensitive nipples, making her give into another airy whimper. “These are hot commodity, baby. And I’m tired of being the only shareholder without dividends. That little man in the crib has privatized the whole operation.”
“You’re being ridiculous.” She breathed with equal parts annoyance and entertainment at his choice of description. Her fingers had curled into his forearms - holding him there - keeping his hands exactly where they were.
“Am I?” He pressed a kiss to her temple, then her cheekbone, his stubble dragging deliciously against her skin. “Seeing my wife, glowing like a goddess as she cradles our son, looking like everything I ever wanted…” He turns her around fully, now facing each other. “And completely inaccessible.” He lets his mouth hovered over hers. “Do you know what that does to a man, sweetheart?”
His gaze drifted downward, and she felt the moment his attention shifted fully to her body. She feels his hardness pressing into her, teasingly but with clear intention.
She was still in her negligee, the thin silk clings to her skin. Beneath it, her breasts felt heavy - swollen, and aching with the fullness that came from producing more than Aaron could drink. She had been engorged all day, that persistent pressure made even the brush of such a delicate fabric feel too much.
Her breast were fuller now than they had ever been before pregnancy: rounder, heavier, the skin flushed and luminous. She had caught Leon staring at them more than once over the past months, his eyes darkening with a hunger he tried to mask behind his usual sarcasm. But she saw it. She felt it. And God help her, she loved every bit of the attention he gave her and how he still made her feel desired despite the changes to her body.
“Do you know what I was thinking…” He spoke as his palms cupped the heavy undersides of her breasts, lifting them slightly and feeling their weight. “…as I watched you feed him?”
She shivered, the sensation of pressure against her swollen flesh both relief and exquisite torment. Not knowing what he’s going to follow up with, but she gave her best guess. “That he’s growing well?” Tilting her head and looking up at her husband with curiosity.
“Oh baby.” He gave a light hearted chuckle as he gently shook his head. Oh God, he’s not done yet…
“That he’s a monopolist.” His voice was teasing and raw as his thumbs circles her nipples through the silk, making the fabric dampen and stained with the milk leaking from her nipples in response to his touch. “He’s declared exclusive access to one of the best parts of my wife and left his father out in the cold.”
He pinches at her nipples, toying them just like how he is playfully teasing her. “And, I can’t help but to feel a bit jealous. Watching him have what I can’t?” He pressed a kiss to the side of her neck, sucking lightly. “I feel like I’m in a turf war with a three-month-old, but he’s winning.”
“Leon, he needs me -”
“And I need you.” His blue eyes burning into hers with an intensity that made her knees weak. “I need my wife. The woman who used to look at me like I was the only thing in her world.”
She tried to interject, but he had gently squeezed her delicate flesh. So, instead of completing her sentence, she moaned.
“The woman who used to beg me to touch her.” He leaned in, his lips brushing her ear. “I’ve been good and so patient. But I’m dying here, sweetheart.” His thumbs swept over her nipples again, the two dark stains blooms larger over the silk and turning the fabric translucent as it clung to her peaks.
“Look at you.” He groaned achingly into her ear. “You need help as well. Look at how swollen you are and how much you are leaking.” His head now moving southwards on her body and towards the source of his desire and her woes. “Now, we can’t have all of this go to waste.”
“Leon, it’s for the baby -!” She started, but he had already dipped his head with his mouth closing over the stained silk - sucking hard at her nipple through the wet fabric. The sensation was electric, the barrier of silk somehow amplifying the heat and pull of his mouth. She cried out softly with her hips jerking against his, and she clamped a hand over her own mouth as her went eyes wide before they darted to the crib again.
He pulled back with a wet filthy sound, his lips shiny and his eyes dark. “He’s asleep.” Leon whispered. “But I’m awake. And I’ve been very, very lonely, sweetheart.” His hand came up to tenderly up the sides of her face, making her look at him - focusing only on him. “Do you know what it’s like, coming home from -” he caught himself, before he could let the shadows of his classified life become her burden. “…from being out there, and finding that my son has already claimed you in my absence?”
A sadness reflected from underneath his beautiful blue eyes. “I feel replaced. Forgotten. Like I’m something old and discarded, while he’s the new man in your life.”
Her heart cracked open at the rawness in his voice. In return, she also cupped his face, her thumbs stroking the angles of his cheekbones. “Don’t say that.” She said softly. “I love you. You know that. But we’re parents now. Aaron is just a baby, he has to come first. He needs me.”
“And I need you.” His voice dropping to a register that scraped at her composure. “I need my wife. I need to feel like I still have you, not just in the spaces between feedings and diaper changes.” His hands slid down to grip her waist, his thumbs pressing into the softness of her hips. “I know our son needs you, but I’m just asking for a moment.” There was an indescribable and complicated pool of desperation laced with shame in his eyes.
“You’re more beautiful now than you’ve ever been. Do you know that? This body, what it did, what it’s doing… it’s devastating. You’re devastating.” His eyes narrowing with intensity. “And I’ve been standing in doorways for months, watching you, wanting you, dying to touch you, and convincing myself that wanting you this badly after you’ve just fed our son makes me some kind of selfish immature prick.” His jaw tightened. “But I can’t help it. I want you. All of you. The mother. The wife. The woman who was supposed to be mine and mine alone.”
He stops, for a brief moment. “I want to be inside you, baby. I want to feel your warmth squeezing around me. I want to do all the things that we used to do when it was just us…” He averts his gaze from her and now looked towards the crib - at their son - with a blue expression. “I love our son. But, I also love and miss what we did to create him. I want you, baby.”
The plea undid something in her chest, a tight knot of maternal duty and wifely longing that had been pulling her in opposite directions for months. She looked up at him and saw just how much this distance had affected him.
Before her, stood not just the father of her child, the man who vanished after a call from the mysterious black phone, or even her lawfully registered husband. He was her lover; the man who had claimed her body long before Aaron had claimed her womb and now her breasts. Now, he is forgoing his male pride to ask, with a neediness that bordered on desperation, for her attention and the comfort of her body.
This man - who was physically imposing and just as capable - was courteously asking, instead of abusing the imbalance between them to simply take what he demanded with brute entitlement.
This man, who she had starved of her sole undivided attention, still remains so gentle with her.
This realization made her feel cruel. He wanted her. He never stopped wanting her, even when she felt the most insecure about herself…yet she overlooked his love. It was not him who should feel ashamed, but her for failing to provide him comfort as his wife.
“I’m sorry.” She broke into a soft sob, the postpartum hormones still intensifying her emotions. “I want you too, Leon. I never stopped craving how it felt when you were last inside of me. I miss the warmth of us together, how it felt to receive your love when you spilled inside of me.”
She missed him.
She missed the weight of him, the stretch of him, the way he could make her blank out and forget her own name. She missed his smell. Missed his soothing voice in the dark. The way he looked at her like she was the only woman in the world. The way he made her feel wanted, desired, appreciated - like she was still the girl he had fallen in love with, not just a woman who had birthed his son and was now just a caretaker.
He looked at her, feeling the reassurance that she had also wanted him, he lets out a sigh of relief. “Then, why do we deny ourselves?”
She held his gaze for a long moment, the nursery silent except for their shared breath. Then, slowly, she reached for the straps of her negligee.
“You win.” She gave him her answer in the form of a low sensual whisper.
She slid the straps off her shoulders. The silk sighed as it fell, bunching around her waist, leaving her breasts bare to the dense air and his ravenous gaze.
For the first time, Leon was able to take a closer examination to appreciate the beauty of her breast; they were ample with the skin luminous and faintly veined, while her nipples darkened to a deeper rose and still beaded with milk. Leon’s breath left him in a rush, his hands coming up to cradle them, to feel them bare against his hands.
“God…” He breathed. “Look at you. Look at how motherhood had transformed you.” He leaned in, pressing his face between them to nuzzle against the soft swell, while his stubble added a delicious abrasion to her skin. “You were always beautiful, baby. But this…” He turned his head, dragging his tongue in a slow sensual line along the underside of one breast, catching a stray droplet. “I can’t believe I was able to go this long without them.”
He closed his lips around her nipple - sucking lightly, and she felt the milk flow in a warm pulse. He hummed a joyous tune, the vibration sending sparks straight to her core, his breath hot against her wet skin. He latched on with a deeper pull with his tongue flicking at her overstimulated bud. She gasped, letting her fingers thread into his hair to remain grounded to the reality. He pulled back again, his lips shiny, his eyes glazed. "I used to jerk off to the memory of you, you know? At home while you attending our son. Sneaking it in during work when the urge hits. And especially when I’m on those trips that took me away from you...when it was quiet, while I was alone and I needed to remember what I was fighting to get back to.”
“Leon…” She moaned his name. Hearing how much he wanting her turned her on more than she would ever admit to.
“That’s what you do to me, baby.” He murmured against her skin as his mouth moved to the other breast, now lapping at the bead of milk there before drawing the nipple into his mouth. He suckled deeply, with his cheeks hollowing. The desperation of his greediness makes soft whimpers escape between her lips and her knees weak. He caught her, his arm banding around her waist.
“I’d close my eyes while I stroked myself, remembering…how you sweet tasted and how addictive you felt. How the only dilemma I had then was whether I wanted to cum immediately or drive myself into you harder, longer, and deeper.” He took her nipple between his lips again, now sucking with a cultivated precision that threatened to undo her immediately. “And now that you have allowed me yourself…” He pulled back, his voice rough. “I’m not going to last much longer if you keep looking at me like that.”
“Like what?” She whimpered amidst the overstimulating.
“Like you want me to devour you.”
And, like always, Leon was not wrong.
She did. She wanted it.
She wanted him to consume her. To erase the weeks of loneliness and exhaustion. To remind her that she was…
…still a woman
…still his wife
still capable of being wanted for more than her milk and her maternal instincts.
She wanted to feel his weight on her, wet warmth of his mouth on her, the grips of his hands claiming her.
She wanted to forget, even if it was just for a little while, that she was now mother to a newborn. She wanted him to unleash everything he had pent up and just ravage her savagely, to make up for all the lost time and abandoned intimacy in favour of the responsibilities associated with parenthood.
He saw the same desperation in her eyes. He lifted her effortlessly, his hands sliding beneath her thighs and pulling her up until her legs wrapped around his waist by instinct as her arms looping around his neck. He carried her the few steps to the wide, cushioned nursing chair and sat. Still facing him, she straddled his lap with her knees bent and bracketing his hips. Purposefully, she positioned and centred her own need pressed flush against the hard evidence of his.
“We have to be careful.” She whispered, with her palms flat against the hard plane of his chest. “Leon, he might wake up -”
“Then, we’ll be quiet.” He mumbled, his eyes too preoccupied with her bosom. “Please, just let me have you.”
Not wasting a millisecond, Leon buried his face between her breasts - nuzzling against them and along the valley of her cleavage. He rubs his face against them: side to side, up and down, worshipping the softness and the fullness that had transformed her body into something both maternal and devastatingly erotic.
The stimulation was too much. The friction and the heat of his mouth was so close to where she ached, it made her head fall back as she feels a familiar sensation coil within her core. She felt a warm rush and dampness spreading against her skin as milk began to leak freely and messily. The substance coated his lips, dripped down his chin and the hollow of his throat.
He devoured her hungrily as he both suckled and licked the milk beads with an intensity that bordered aggression. She can’t help but to whimper at the sight of his neediness. These breasts and the milk they produced was for their baby, yet he was ravenously consuming them and she was shamelessly complicit with it because she benefited from the pleasure he gave her.
“You’re just as sweet, if not sweeter.” Leon murmured against her as he dipped his head lower to let his tongue catch the rivulets that traced down her skin. He took her nipple in between his fingers and squeezed, she cried out softly at the slight discomfort.
As he releases the tension between his fingers, her nipple rewarded him with light spurt of milk from the source. They locked eyes for a brief moment to register the erotic sight that had just occurred. Breathing hard, the both of them came to the wordless conclusion that this was what the both of them had desperately needed. He returned to her breast, suckling deeply as his tongue working her nipple while his hands caressed her body.
“Leon…” She moans his name continuously in soft pleas.
He closed his lips around her nipple, pulling deeply, until the sensation caused her to arch.
“Leon -” She gasped, her fingers finding their hair to his hair and tightening her grasp. “Be gentle… don’t take too much. Aaron needs it for his next feed-!”
He pulled back with a pop, his expression fierce and tender all at once. “I know.” He acknowledged, but his hands were already kneading her other breast and coaxing more leakage. He leaned in again, his tongue tracing the areola.
“Don’t worry, baby.” He sucked her nipple back into his mouth, pulling with a little bit more force, then released it to finish his thought. “There’s gonna be plenty left for him with the way you’re leaking.” His breath hot against her glistening skin. He returned, suckling even harder now as his cheeks hollows, milk spilling from the corners of his lips. Unlike the baby, he had also nipped her bud with his teeth. Grazing it just slightly, but still enough to pull a reaction from her as it reminded her of what their lovemaking was like before the pregnancy.
He pulled back, admiring her in awe and ever so tenderly. “God, I’ve missed this. Missed you. Missed the way you fall apart for me.”
He switched breasts, latching onto the other nipple with increasing carnal hunger. The wet sounds were obscene in the quiet of the room. The strategically coordinated pull and release of his mouth makes her squirm in his lap, her hips rocking against the hard ridge of him through his sweats.
She should have felt shy and ashamed, everything from her childhood upbringing screamed at her that this was improper. She was a mother now, she should be upholding her dignity even more instead of giving into the exhibition of such scandalous behaviour. But before she is a mother, she was a woman…
…a weak woman when it came to the man before her. She would let him do anything to her as long as he continued to love her. It didn’t matter anymore to her, her ancestors could be damned for as long as Leon was inside of her - his fingers, his tongue, his manhood…it was her who was truly desperate and needy for him.
Despite the presence of her son, just a few steps from them, she let the loneliness of his absences and the sheer relief of having him here - whole and wanting her - burned through her inhibitions like wildfire.
“More.” Now, she found herself pleading with him. “Please, Leon…”
Happy wife, happy life. Her wish is his command, so he obliged.
His hand slipped beneath the bunched silk of her negligee and between her thighs, finding her panties already drenched with the slick that was pooling between her folds. He teased her with featherlight touches before sliding one finger inside her, curling it against that spot that made her see stars. His thumb finding her clit with unerring precision and adding to the sensation. She moaned, louder than she should have, but he swallowed the sound by pulling her down into a kiss - his mouth tasting of her milk and his own hunger: deep and claiming.
“Quiet.” He reminded her against her lips, as he snuck in another finger during the commotion.
His fingers thrusted steadily into her and scissoring gently alongside her gummy walls; stretching her with the care of a man who remembered exactly what his wife’s body needed and exactly how she liked to be touched. He took action instead of words to thank her for her sacrifice - for carrying, birthing, and now taking care of his child.
“Be quiet for me, or I’ll have to stop.” He returned to her breast, latching on with renewed fervor, his mouth working her nipple - with precision and skill that far surpasses an infant’s - making the milk flow freely and left her breasts aching with a pleasure so intense it bordered on pain. He pulled back, smiling a cheeky grin. “And I don’t want to stop. I’ve waited too long.”
She bit her lip, nodding as her hips chased his hand with reckless abandon.
He returned to her breast, latching on once again with a groan. His tongue continued to stimulate her nipple as his fingers pumped inside her. He pulled back. “You’re perfect, baby.” Gasping as he leaves butterfly kisses along her neck. “Perfect mother, and a perfect wife.”
He sucked her nipple back into his mouth, pulling deeply, then released her with a wet pop, “I’m feeling how wet you are, how snug you’re squeezing around my fingers.” He looks at her with an expression of unsatisfied longing. “I want to be inside you, baby.” He confessed. “But I know I can’t. You’re still healing. I can wait.” He pressed his lips against hers, sealing them into a deep kiss before returning his attention to her breasts.
Let me make you come, baby. She feels him mumble between his lips.
She was climbing.
The intimacy of everything shattered her.
Here, in the nursery, where their baby was sleeping feet away, they were bridging the chasm that parenthood had carved between them. She was not just Aaron’s mother in this moment. She was Leon’s wife. His woman. The one he came home to, the one he risked everything beyond the door of their home to return to, the one person who could make him feel like this.
“Leon!” She pants his name repeatedly, while her head fell back and her spine arching to press her breast deeper into his mouth. “Oh! I’m close… please, don’t stop!”
He didn’t.
He sucked harder. His fingers pumped deeper and stretched her further, while his thumb circled her clit relentlessly with the perfect pressure. She felt the orgasm building like a tidal wave - starting where his mouth claimed her breast to where his fingers filled her - converging in her center until she was trembling, shaking, and her grip tightening around his shoulders until her knuckles paled.
“Come for me.” He cooed, the words muffled against the skin of her breasts. He pulled back just enough to lock eyes with her, but his fingers never stopping and his thumb pressing as hard as ever. “Give it to me, sweetheart. Let me feel you.” He dipped his head again, suckling fiercely and greedily.
Then, she shattered.
The pleasure crashed through her in long, rolling waves. Her body clenching around his fingers while her back bowed into him as she muffled her cry against his shoulder. Her breasts leaked even more freely as she climaxed, causing Leon to groan and lap at the spill. His touch gentling now, drawing out the aftershocks until she went limp in his arms: spent and gasping.
For a long moment, they stayed like that, breathing hard. Her forehead resting against his. Her breasts still bared and glistening. His hand still between her thighs. His own arousal remains hard and insistent against her below, however he made no move to satisfy it. He pressed soft lingering kisses across the tops of her breasts, cleaning the last traces of milk with gentle sweeps of his tongue.
“That was perfect, baby.” He whispered against her sternum. “You’re perfect. All of you. The mother. The wife. The woman who still lets me into her, even when she’s given everything to our family.” He looked up at her, his blue eyes full affection. “Thank you, baby. For this. For everything.”
She cupped his face, lifting it so she could look closer into his eyes - those sharp blue eyes that had seen horrors and held secrets she would never know. “You matter to me, just as much as Aaron...” She whispered into the now sex-dense air. “…perhaps even more.” She confessed, the darkest secret she kept within her heart. “You’ll never be replaced. I love you and you’re my everything.”
He turned his head to kiss the side of her hand, his eyes closing.
She loves him.
…more than their son.
It was an odd and unconventional thing to say, but it was a very her thing to say.
She loves him; in a world of uncertainty that was the only certainty he could rely on. And because of that - her hopelessly selfless and unconditional love for him - he finally felt at peace.
Outside, the world turned dangerous and indifferent. His phone might buzz at any moment with a summons he could not refuse. It was different in the hushed intimate sanctuary of their home, with his son sleeping peacefully nearby and his wife warm and yielding in his arms.
She attempted to pull the straps of her negligee back up. He noticed her trembling hands and helped her, his fingers brushing her collarbones with a lingering tenderness. Then, he settled back in the chair, drawing her with him so she curled against his chest with her ear pressed over his heart - listening to the steady beat that meant he was alive,
…he was here,
…and he was hers.
“I love you, Leon.” She whispered her devotion as if it were a prayer.
His arms tightened around her. He kissed the top of her head as he cradled her against him.
And in the dark, they held each other.
Two lovers learning how to be parents.
Two parents clinging to the lovers they had been.
Finding comfort in each other as their infant son slept soundly just feet away.
Hermaphroditic tsetse fly, former angel, and Lucifer's right hand
Appearance and inability to satiate were cursed upon him for betrayal; he couldn't be satisfied with what he had, and now he will never be satisfied at all
As my first and only real contribution to the Poppy Playtime fandom, allow me to show my vision for how the Prototype got Catnap to be so big and large!
(Beautiful Prototype breastfeeding scene under the cut)
(uhhh btw if this gets like 500 likes or smth I'll do Sawyer next).
