"Why do you keep obsessing over fictional men when you're aroace??"
Nono u don't understandddd, when i'm telling u he's a snack i'm not thirsting i'm just experiencing a very interesting combination of gender envy and gender admiration while also using that man's suffering to process my own inner turmoil. It's magical.
SUMMARY: Having a daughter who's 4 means being asked questions all the time and all type of them... including when are you going to give her a baby sister
✹ PART 2 -> PROMISED BABY MAKING
✹ PAIRINGS: Leon Kennedy x Wife!Reader
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💬 Dad!Leon has been on my mind for reasons I can't share yet but... God, I need to write more of Dad!Leon so hit me up with requests if you have some 😩 Hope you liked this and, if so, please let me now in the comments! I'd appreciate the feedback <3
Leon always arrived ten minutes early… if not more.
He liked to tell himself it was just what he was used to, but why lie? He loved standing there, leaning against a lamppost, sipping a freshly bought coffee while watching the chaos begin to form in the playground of his daughter’s preschool.
“Daddy!”
He moved closer the moment the little girl appeared at the door, holding her teacher’s hand. After quickly saying goodbye to the woman, the little girl ran toward Leon with all her tiny strength, making her light-up sneakers change colors with every step.
Leon’s face, bent down, lit up the instant his daughter threw herself into his arms.
He’d had a shitty day at work, but his four-year-old was the perfect cure for that.
“Hey, hey, easy there, sweetheart,” he laughed, lifting her effortlessly with one arm. “Did you miss me that much?”
“I made a drawing!” she shouted, wrapping her little arms around his neck and pressing her cheek to Leon’s.
“Yeah?” Leon kissed her temple. “Can I see it, or is it a secret?”
The girl pulled back slightly and looked at him seriously.
“Daddy, it’s for mommy! If I show you, you’ll tell her, and it won’t be a surprise!”
“Of course. You're right.”
He thanked the teacher and set the little girl down, adjusting the backpack on his shoulder so it wouldn’t slip. Then, he picked her up again and headed toward the car.
The girl tilted her head, as if trying to figure something out.
“Daddy?”
“Yes, bug?”
“Why is it always you who comes to pick me up? Mommy never comes to pick me up.”
They reached the car. With his free hand, Leon searched for the Porsche keys in the front pocket of his pants. Once the car was unlocked, he went to the back and opened the door, placing his daughter in her car seat.
“Because I like coming to pick you up,” he replied as he buckled her in, staying at eye level with her.
“But mommy likes picking me up too.”
“Yes. And she likes it very much, bug.”
“Then why don’t you come together?” the little girl blurted out.
Leon chuckled softly, shaking his head as he stood up and closed the door before getting into the driver’s seat.
“Well…” he stretched the word out, searching for the right ones. “You know I get out of work a little earlier than you get out of school,” which wasn’t entirely a lie, but it was what the girl needed to know for now. “And mommy is at home making dinner because she gets out of work earlier than I do. And… mommy gets tired when she gets home, and sometimes she doesn’t feel like it and falls asleep until we get back.”
That last part was a complete lie, but how were you supposed to explain to a child her age that her parents worked for the government and lived their lives dealing with weapons and large-scale bioterrorist attacks?
Someday she would understand, but in that moment, Leon Kennedy wasn’t going to bother thinking about the future.
The girl didn’t seem entirely convinced, but didn't say anything else. She opened her mouth again, though not to ask what Leon expected.
“Did you miss mommy today, daddy?”
“A lot,” he answered. “I always miss her when I’m at work.”
“And did you know mommy when she was little?” she asked again. The drive home was short, but today her curiosity seemed endless.
“No, sweetheart. Mommy was already a grown up when I met her. And so was I.”
“How grown up?”
“Very grown up,” Leon joked, making his daughter laugh. “Almost as grown up as she's now.”
“Wow!”
Leon looked at her in the mirror. She was paying full attention to him.
He couldn’t help but smile.
“Why you ask, bug?”
“Because mommy is very pretty. And I thought maybe she was uglier when she was little. But that’s impossible, because mommy is very pretty.”
“She really is,” Leon smiled to himself, a thousand images of you running through his mind.
“When you saw mommy, did you say "wow"?”
“Something like that, yeah,” he chuckled softly.
“And did mommy say "wow" too?”
Leon pretended to think for a few seconds, which for some reason made your daughter even happier.
“Well… I think so. But she tried to pretend she didn’t. You know… like when she gets mad.”
“Mommy doesn’t get mad!” she protested cheerfully. “Mommy is very nice. And she loves us a lot.”
“She really does, yeah,” Leon replied, a lump forming in his throat.
The questions continued for the few minutes it took to reach your house. When it finally came into view, your daughter began clapping happily, telling Leon what she was going to do when she saw you.
Leon parked in the driveway and quickly got out of the car. He went to the back to unbuckle the little girl. She wrapped her arms around his neck again, as if refusing to get down just yet.
“Daddy?”
“What is it now?”
Saying Leon was desperate after so many questions would be an understatement.
But it was a kind of desperation he wouldn’t trade for anything in the world.
“Do you love mommy more than me?”
Leon didn’t say anything for a few seconds. Then, he kissed her cheek and picked her up, grabbing her little backpack and his work briefcase (or what he used to hide his weapons when your daughter was around).
“That’s not how love works, sweetheart.”
“Why not?”
“Because loving mommy doesn’t mean I love you more or less. We’re a family, and I love you both the same. Or do you love mommy more than you love me?”
The girl didn’t answer, but her lips slowly curled into a mischievous smile.
That was more than enough of an answer for Leon, and he couldn’t blame her.
You were the best mother in the world.
“Hi,” you smiled, leaning against the kitchen counter when they walked into the house. Your daughter ran up to you and hugged your legs. You ran a hand through her hair affectionately. “How was school today, sweetheart?”
She quickly pulled away from you and ran back to Leon, asking him to bend down. She grabbed her backpack, pulled out a rather crumpled piece of paper, and ran back to you.
“I made this for you, mommy!” she shouted.
“For me? Really?”
You pretended to be surprised as you took the paper and looked at it. Leon watched as you crouched down to her height, hugging her and thanking her over and over for the drawing, scribbles and three little stick figures, two bigger ones next to a smaller one, beautiful enough to make your heart melt.
You put it on the fridge alongside the rest of her drawings. She then sat down on a chair, alternating her gaze between Leon and you while drinking a juice box your husband had given her.
“Mommy?”
“Yes, sweetheart?”
“Daddy said you’re very nice and kind.”
You turned to look at Leon.
“Oh really? You said that, Leon Kennedy?”
He shrugged, smiling.
“We talked about a lot of things on the way home today,” he added.
The girl leaned forward on the table, taking a small piece of the cake you had just finished baking.
“Mommy, how did you and daddy fall in love?”
The question caught you off guard. From how still Leon suddenly went, it had taken him by surprise too.
“That’s a question for older kids, love.”
“I’m a big kid!” she protested.
Leon leaned against the counter beside you, wrapping an arm around you and kissing your temple.
“She is big,” he agreed with your daughter. “She’s four.”
You shook your head, laughing softly, before looking back at her.
“Well… Daddy and I met at work, and we talked a lot after that.”
Leon looked at you and raised an eyebrow. You shrugged.
There was no way you were going to tell her that you’d actually met in Raccoon City, when the city was full of zombies and you didn’t know if you’d survive that night.
“Like Emma and I talk?” she asked curiously, referring to her best friend.
“More or less,” Leon chimed in gently.
“And then daddy made mommy laugh with those silly lines he sometimes says,” you added.
“You know I’m very good at that, bug.”
“And then you kissed?!”
Leon nearly choked. You couldn’t help, but laugh.
“In the end, yes,” you confirmed. “And then, we got married, and we had you.”
“I knew it!”
Leon and you exchanged a look, assuming the conversation was over.
But, as always, a four-year-old’s mind never stops.
“Do you think you and daddy could make me a little sister?”
This time Leon really did seem to choke.
You looked at him, surprised, silently asking him to help you answer that. All you got in return was a head shake and a very unhappy expression.
You elbowed him without stopping smiling at your daughter.
“Why a little sister, sweetheart?”
“Because I want one.”
Leon approached the little girl, not before looking at you apologetically. He crouched down in front of her, resting his arms on his knees.
“Wouldn’t you like a little brother?” your husband asked.
“No. I want a little sister.”
“Straight to the point, huh?”
“Sweetheart… babies are something adults talk about,” you explained carefully.
“And in private,” Leon added. You rolled your eyes, knowing exactly what he was thinking.
“Do you talk about babies when you make them?”
“Sometimes,” Leon replied, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. “Other times… you just have to make the baby, and that’s it.”
“And can’t you talk more?” the little girl insisted.
Leon stood up. He exchanged a glance with you, never taking his eyes off your daughter.
“Maybe someday,” he replied softly. “For now, we have you. And if you have a little sister, you’ll have to share everything with her.”
“I wouldn’t mind! I want a little sister! I’ll ask Santa if you don’t give me one…”
With that, she jumped down from the chair and ran off, probably to play in the living room where all her toys were.
Leon stayed where he was for a moment before walking over to you. He hugged you, then placed both arms on the counter, cornering you gently, resting his forehead against yours.
“She really wants a sister.”
You didn’t have time to say anything else. Leon kissed you—slowly, with that warmth that had long since become familiar to you, and that you loved so much.
“Hey…” you started, moving closer to him and resting your chin against his chest. “About the little sister thing and—”
“You don’t want to have more kids?” Leon blurted out suddenly.
“What? No! That’s not what I was going to say!”
He let out a relieved sigh, then slid his hands over your waist.
“Then what?”
“She’s four, Leon,” you explained, not entirely sure where you were going with this. “And you know how kids that age are. She’s probably saying that because someone in her class has a new sibling and now she wants one too…”
“But what about you? Do you want it? Have you thought about yourself, and whether you want another child?”
The question caught you off guard... not because of how direct it was, but because Leon seemed to be the one bringing the conversation up.
“It’s made me think,” you replied, a little unsure.
“Me too.”
“I want to talk about it. Really talk about it.”
You looked at him. He pulled back slightly, but stayed close enough not to break contact. He took your hands, intertwining your fingers perfectly, tracing small circles over them.
“I’m listening, love.”
You swallowed, nervous.
“I’m not saying we have to do it tomorrow, or next month, or even this year… It’s just that… well… I wanted to know if we’re on the same page. If you’d really want to do all of this with me… again.”
Leon sighed quietly, looking up at the ceiling for a moment. Then he hugged you tightly.
“I think about it more than I’d like to admit,” he confessed. “About having a baby. About our daughter having someone for the rest of her life. About doing it again, better, calmer, even if we fall back into chaos and don’t quite make it out.”
“You were amazing the first time. And you still are. You’re a wonderful father, Leon Kennedy. Give yourself the credit you deserve,” you said with a smile. “You're definitely a certified girl that. Everyone knows at this point.”
“I was terrified. And I still am.”
“So am I. But you know what? When I get scared, I know I have you for whatever I need,” you kissed his cheek and hopped up onto the counter. You held out your hands for Leon to take, pulling him closer again. “I just… want this to be something we decide together. When we’re ready.”
“Me too,” he replied softly, giving you a short kiss. “But… I was thinking that before making a baby, you have to practice, so…”
“Leon Kennedy…”
“What? I was just going to suggest that, if you want… we could start tonight.”
“Practicing,” you added.
“Yeah, sure. Practicing, making a baby… whatever you want to call it.”
You hopped down from the counter when you heard your daughter calling you from the living room, heading that way, but not before turning back to Leon.
“So we’re making a baby, huh?”
“If that’s what you want, I’m all in,” he said, raising his hands and smiling a little too much. “Tonight, we can start talking about babies or get straight to the point, so think carefully about what you’re going to ask of me... and what you'd like me to do, alright?”
THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING! Feedback on the comments and/or reblogs are very much appreciated but, if you feel shy, just send me an anonymous ask!
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In the CEO’s office, bent over on his desk, grinding your ass against his cock as he stands there.
Phone to his ears, his other hand grabs your G-string and rides it up your fat ass.
“Fuck that pussy on my bulge”, he demands before casually and shamelessly returning back to his call.
He slaps your ass with fingers decorated with gold rings. He watches you spread those big cheeks to sit that peeking pussy on his bulge. You grind away against that tented cock, leaking a trail of juices on his designer dress pants. He doesn't care, your pussy is the most expensive thing he owns. He leans forward to bury that bulge deep between your folds, pushing the fabric of your pathetic panties inside your wet hole.
You let out a moan.
“Sorry, slut horny for that cock, can't talk”, he cuts off the phone and gives you all of his cock.
- Sir Crocodile, Shiu Kong, Toji, Gojo, Caleb, Sylus
