|Yuuta & Rika - Polar Star
finally got this leon with some hairy arms but now i can't stop having insane thoughts about him with chest hair... mmffgghnnnhhh
dilfy old man leon makes brain go brrrrrr...
"Let us go together, my dear Consort eternal."
(mdni)
leon kennedy x reader
warnings: cult leader!leon, fem!reader, dub-con, mentions of a forced marriage, fingering, virgin!reader
a/n: THIS TOOK ME DONKEY YEARS TO WRITE. i'm proud of it though so idrc. there will also be a second part to this bc i have more planned. title is from fly on the windscreen by depeche mode (that song is leon's song trust)
please enjoy!!!
“Pitiful lamb, she must be saved before she falls into the darkness.”
The words are like an echo in your head, like it's your conscience speaking to you, but you know damn well that such is not the case.
You're pretty confused as to where you are, but all you know is that you can't move and people are chanting the same words over and over.
Gloria las plagas.
“Take her to the tomb and dress her in the marital robes.”
You want to open your eyes, but all you can feel is cold hands groping your warm body, and you can't help but shudder because there are so many of them gripping onto you.
“I shall show her salvation.”
The last thing you feel is a cloak wrapped around your naked body before you drift back into your comatose state.
–
Your eyelids feel heavy, drooping over your eyes as you slip into the real world.
You're in your bed, wearing your plaid pyjamas and looking (as well as feeling) like a mess because that dream was far too realistic.
Usually you aren't supposed to remember dreams, and if you had dreamt about a memory, surely you would remember such an occasion of being accused of ‘falling into the darkness’.
But ‘marital robes'? Odd, strange- even better, peculiar. You'd definitely remember a thing such as this, marriage is a big deal. You're already hearing the voice of your mother rattling on about ‘finding the right one’ just at the thought.
‘Whatever, you shouldn't dwell on such things’ is what you helpfully motivate yourself with. Dreams never make sense anyway, why should they now?
–
You ended up getting in such a state about it that it was to the point where you didn't even process that you were late for work.
Your manager greets you with a raised eyebrow as well as a heavy sigh at your slightly dishevelled appearance when you unceremoniously burst into his office.
You don't even apologise for being late, you just continue panting and making strange hand signals to show that you'd had bad traffic or something.
You're not even sure yourself what you signed (wasn't evening signing, it was just pointing and breathless words) at your manager.
It almost makes you wonder how you haven't lost your job. Maybe the pile of documents dumped on your desk is probably a benefitting factor.
–
Your work doesn't contain much effort, save it for the pointless meetings you daydream in, typing away reports, signing paperwork. Menial tasks.
Gives you ample time to think about that dream.
Well, not really a dream (despite your earlier evaluation on it being such). In your eyes it felt like a flashback, but you recall nothing about being referred to as a lamb, let alone a pitiful one either.
It's like a daze has washed over you the more you let it fester in your mind, an incantation of sorts that's making you reminisce on the dream like a broken record.
The chanting, that overpowering voice, the feeling of hot and cold, the hands, marital robes and the salvation. God knows what all that means.
You should just let this slide much like this morning, should just pretend everything is normal and fine when it's not, because you're good at that sort of thing.
You can't shake the niggling feeling though.
Gloria las plagas. It's a distant chime in your head, and suddenly your fingers are darting across your keyboard with a loud clack clack clack.
Glory to the plagues. Cool, maybe you should've learnt Spanish in school or something, but you would've forgotten it anyway.
The plagues though? The fuck is that?
You hurriedly clack away more at your keyboard like you had a strong purpose.
The Plagues are a breed of parasitic superorganisms which originated from a remote valley in the Iberian Peninsula.
Very insightful. Means fuck all to you, so you do a little more digging because this is getting slightly more concerning that your brain has conjured this up and it's somehow real.
Once again, you're clacking away at your bulky keyboard with more vigour, resulting in you hitting the ‘Enter’ key so hard you wince (and a co-worker narrowing her eyes at you for the noise).
Parasitic organisms, an organism that lives on or in a host organism and gets its food from or at the expense of its host.
Fun. Almost like getting pregnant is all your mind helpfully supplies, but you roll your eyes to yourself because your mind clearly hasn't recovered from the events of last night.
Oh well, you hope your manager or some random stranger doesn't see your search history and gets weirded out by your impromptu research lesson on Spanish and Biology.
Then again, you hope you don't seem dumb for searching up what a parasite organism is. And the Spanish.
–
You're going mental, you know it.
You needed to touch up your lipgloss and nature also called (you needed to piss), so you headed to the toilets and did your business, then headed to the mirrors to wash your hands and gloss up your lips.
You didn't think the power would suddenly cut just as you were to unscrew the cap of your gloss.
You're coated in darkness, uncomfortably aware now that you're alone in the bathroom as you let out a meek ‘hello?’ and all you're met with is a deafening silence ringing in your ears.
Maybe you're getting pranked on, there is a light switch in the bathroom, but then again, you never really speak to anyone at your work because they seem to gossip all the time, and you don't fancy losing your job over it.
Much to your surprise, the fluorescent lights suddenly flicker on.
Glancing at the mirror, your reflection is staring back at you, and quickly come to notice that your eyes are red.
You gasp and tense up at the sight. No longer do you have your natural eye colour coating your irises, but instead you have this crimson red seeping through.
Gloria las plagas, gloria las plagas, gloria las plagas, gloria las plagas.
Backing away from the mirror is the first thing you do, unintentionally dropping your gloss to the floor as you run your hands over your eyes in case you're just seeing shit.
Your eyes are still red, but blood drips down your face like tears.
Gloria las plagas, gloria las plagas, gloria las plagas.
It's the chanting, the same in your dream, but it's louder, closer, harsher, and it makes you put your hands over your ears and screw your eyes shut.
Gloria las plagas, gloria las plagas, gloria las plagas, gloria las plagas, gloria las plagas, gloria la-
A hand taps you on the shoulder, pulling you out of the sheer panic you were in to silence as you whip your head around to see who your saving fucking grace was.
It's a coworker, one you're sure you've never spoken to, but she's one of the less bitchy ones so you aren't too mad. She's got this look of concern in her face, forcing you to wonder if she's taken in your bloody eyes and if she decides to call an ambulance or something.
But she doesn't, she just gives you a smile and asks if you're okay, and all you can give is a shaky nod because you are definitely not fine.
When you do look back at the mirror, you look normal. But you don't feel it.
–
You're sitting criss crossed on your bed, reading a book. Not exactly a very interesting book, one that an old friend recommended, so it was likely that it wasn't destined to be anything special.
You feel tired, drained even. You did fuck all today, especially after the incident in the bathroom at work, you're still a little shaken. It had you unable to focus for the whole work day.
Even this shitty book can't keep you focused, maybe you need an early night.
You slap the book shut, without noting the page you were on, and toss it on your bedside table, uncaring of the painful clattering sound it shouts out to you as you rub your eyes and yawn.
After blinking a couple times, you glance at the clock with some disinterest.
20:43.
Yeah, definitely an early night. Maybe this is your chance to fix the appalling sleep schedule you've never been able to rid yourself of.
Wandering into the bathroom had never been such a sluggish experience, but you aren't skipping your nightly routine of washing your face and putting a little moisturiser on.
The cold water on your face seems to snap you out of something, forcing you sigh and grip onto the edge of the sink until your knuckles turn white, reluctance etched on your face
You don't want to look in the mirror, but you feel compelled too.
It's like a taunt in your eyes, urging you to look at your reflection because of your strict nightly regime, though you're more concerned about the fact that you gaze at your reflection and be met with bleeding out of your eyes again.
Plucking up the courage by taking a deep breath, you look up to the mirror. Never-fucking-mind about the bleeding eyes.
Black veins stem from your eyes and start trailing down your face, then to your neck, then arms and then hands.
Much like your previous experience, you don't panic. However, you don't back away from the mirror, but get closer instead.
Huh, not too bad. If these veins were just body paint you'd be rocking these for a Halloween party at fifteen or something. But you're not, and these veins are very fucking real.
The chanting hasn't started yet, and you almost feel thankful about it, though there's an ache that's becoming a throbbing pain in your head, and you can't shake it as the veins grow sharper on your skin.
Subconsciously, it seemed your hand had wandered near your face to have a feel of your face, only to be met with the feeling of slightly dry skin and no side effects from doing that action.
Until a gasp escapes you, and before you know it, you've collapsed.
A thud resounds in your ears, and you're fairly certain you've done some damage to the back of your head as you vaguely recall catching it on something.
Cold tiles penetrate your thin clothes as you lay on the floor, control of your body slowly fading in your head as your eyelids slip shut, the fatigue returning and suddenly being lucid was all too much.
The last thing you register is warm arms picking you up.
–
“You look lovely.”
You'll admit, you look rather fetching from what you can tell from the murky mirror. Black veins covet your skin with crimson eyes staring back at you, and all you do is smile.
Inwardly, you're freaking the fuck out. You (or Not You) look as pale as a vampire. Look as if You're dead. You're not though, you're very much alive.
“Don't worry, my little lamb,”
He's got your cold hand in between two warm ones, and you can't help but notice how pale you are.
Maybe you are dead, maybe you're in the in between, or maybe you're just cold. Whatever the fact is, you can't help but shiver slightly and move closer to his presence.
“I will show you the light.”
A blinding pain rushes through you, and your own shrieks ring in your ears.
“Do not resist my angel.” You are unsure of what you're resisting, but it hurts more than anything humanly possible.
“I will show you the light.”
–
You suck in a deep breath and sit up, like you've just got out of the water just before you've drowned.
Adrenaline flows through your blood, the drug making you hyper aware of everything around you.
You're on your bed, the bathroom light in the corner of your room reaches out to the shadowed gloom of your bedroom. And there's something on your head too, wrapped tightly too.
A bandage, seems as if you did hit your head pretty hard. You confirm that as you poke at different spots on the bandage and reward yourself with a painful wince.
“You haven't done any massive damage, just a concussion.”
That voice, a very familiar one is all you recognise as your head jolts up to the source of where it came from.
You're unsure of who he is, the hood of a purple robe obstructing your view of the man's face. He holds a staff, though he's too far in the shadows to get a proper good look at it.
“You…” He's the one in your dreams, you're sure of it. He can't be real, shouldn't be real at all, should be a figment of your imagination.
“You still resisted when I showed you the truth.” Truth? What is the truth? The only truth you know is that a strange man who's been making you go batshit in dream land is in your bedroom.
“I don't- I have no idea what you're on about.” That came out a little more sassy than necessary, but you're not really processing what the fuck is going on.
In response to your remark, the man steps out of the shadows and lets go of his staff for it to turn to dust.
In this light, you can see the faint glow of the light shine slightly on his face, painting the picture of his nose and lips. But then his hands reach up to his hood and pull it off his head.
You can't help but freeze up. The guy is hot as fuck, you can't deny. You feel like comically rubbing your eyes to check what you're seeing in front of you is real.
Of course the creepy guy has pretty privilege. Could be worse.
“I suppose I will have to form the ritual.” A ritual? Sounds fun, a great time even.
Slight snag though, you don't fancy being sacrificial meat for this guy, hot or not. Or maybe it'll be some weird mating ritual. You hope it's the latter.
“Your assumption is correct, for it is the latter we will be performing.” He can read minds as well, how amazing for you. You probably don't even have to talk anymore, but you quite fancy putting your words in on things.
“Why are we doing this ritual?” Just to emphasise the slight distress you feel, you get up off the bed, but it backfires when you stumble as a wave of dizziness crashes down on you.
Warm hands circle your waist, pulling your back toward a firm chest. Can't help but think you're in heaven because you've never been near someone so strong, muscular and hot.
Oh, and he's also hard. Can feel it against your ass and it nearly has you shuddering.
A breath coats your ear, it seems he's leant down to your ear and goes to mumble in your ear. “Because you resisted my gift,” He paused as one of his hands glided away from your waist to cup your mound. “And I wish to show you the light.”
Your mind is in overdrive, it certainly doesn't help that you've got a concussion, but he's got a hand in your very special parts. Whether he's hot or not, he should at least ask for permission. “Wait- wait I- stop-”
“Is something the matter?” You can tell he's grinning as he does this, and you can't help but gasp as he nibbles at your ear and rubs his hand over your mound, making you wetter than you've ever been before.
You look down and place a hand over his own to try and push him away, but it's only then that the black veins on your body have come back. “The veins-”
A hand clasps your mouth, and you can't help but moan and whine as he continues to stimulate your pussy. “Don't resist me, little lamb.”
Hope of resisting dwindles quickly after he commands this, as his hand moves away from your clothed clit to slip under your shirt and feel your tits. You can't help but suck in a breath as he pinches your nipple, then moves to the other to do the same.
“There- you see? It's not so bad, is it?” He's not wrong, you feel lightheaded and flooded in the feeling of pleasure, and all he's done is barely tease you.
His hand moves away from your mouth, no longer silencing you as it trails down to your pyjama bottoms and slips under it as well as your underwear, and all you can do is stare.
Tight circles are rubbed on your clit, and your legs are already weakening by the second from it. The only dignity you can save is by biting your bottom lip to suppress the light moans attempting to escape your lips. “Very sensitive, aren't we?”
It sounds like he's taunting you, almost driving you up the wall because this pleasure you're feeling is going to make you insatiable.
A finger plunges into your hole, and you fail to hold in the whine you let out, and neither can he suppress a breathy groan. “You're tighter than a virgin.”
You freeze in his hold at that revelation he stated, and in the reply, the bastard chuckles at you. Fuck him for sounding so sexy.
“Knew you were a good choice,” You actually can't help but smile at that. There's always a first for everything, and this was one of those things. And also having a strange man's finger in your cunt.
Said finger suddenly curls inside you, then slowly creeps out, then back in. The gentle thrusting of his finger makes your hands clutch at his forearms, digging your nails into it as you moan.
You hear a faint hiss from it, but his finger only moves faster, then it's joined by another. You can only gasp at the stretch because it actually hurts a little, so you dig your nails into his arms a little more for him to get the message.
His palm rubs against your clit, and it provides you with stimulation you could never get from your own hands because they're not nearly as big as his.
“Got my hand soaked,” He pauses, now angling his fingers so when he thrusts into you, his palm smacks against your clit, and in response you wail at the feeling. “Pretty little lamb.”
His words seem like syrup in your head as you chase your high, his fingers a catalyst for reaching it as they hit that spongy spot in you each time. “Can't wait to make you my wife.”
All coherent thought leaves you as you attempt to shout out a rebuttal at the words, all you let out are pathetic sputters and panting.
“What did I say?” Don't resist, that's what he said. But you don't want to be his wife, don't want to be part of what the hell he's got going on. “Be a good girl and listen.”
The chanting starts again. It's faint at first, but it gets louder and tempo quickens as you get closer to your high.
Gloria las plagas.
The orgasm is intense, you're convulsing and squeaking out a moan as your eyes roll to the back of your head, soreness spreading through your lower area and you're barely able to stand.
Slumping against him, you feel fingers still prodding at your lower area still, before they move away and up to your lips and slip inside your mouth, not even realising the strange taste that coats your mouth is your release.
Your eyelids slowly slip shut without you even realising. The adrenaline you've felt this entire time has run dry from your peak, the pillars of consciousness collapsing, tumbling you into the realm of deep sleep.
nsfw (18+) - minors dni or i will call ur mom. and also the cops
word count: 5k
description: moving to raccoon city with leon, your long-term boyfriend and childhood sweetheart, doesn't go as planned. while you consider moving back home to lick your wounds, leon conspires to keep you right by his side, where you were always meant to be.
tags/warnings: yandere!leon kennedy, specifically rookie cop leon, squishy soft dom leon, manipulation and generally toxic behavior, baby trapping (via tampering w condoms), daddy kink, praise kink, pet names, no use of y/n, fingering, p in v, creampie, cockwarming, mention of vomiting
a/n: this piece was commissioned by #1 Soft Dom Rookie Leon Truther and My Feral Puppy Wife @nexysworld ,, pls pls check out her work, she's so very talented and sweet and i am lucky to call her a friend ;w; <33
hopefully if u made it this far u read the tags and know what ur in for, but out of an abundance of caution i would like to reiterate that this is a yandere!leon fic and therefore contains dark themes a la dubious/uninformed consent and unhealthy relationship dynamics. if that's a no-no for u, pls kindly move on and take care of urself !!
my masterlist ♡
my ao3 ♡
fic under the cut, thanks so much for reading and i hope u enjoy ;w;
-venus ♡
Leon had it all figured out from the day he met you, the first day of kindergarten. The two of you were going to be just like the movies, just like the storybooks– you would grow up as friends, blossom into lovers, marry young and start a family, and everything would be exactly as it should be. He would have fulfilled his purpose, and you would have fulfilled yours. All would be right in the universe.
And he wasn’t exactly far off, for a long time. You were attached at the hip through elementary school, somehow managed to stay friends through middle school and after an awkward, smitten kiss shared in the empty auditorium, you began dating in high school. It was perfect, he thought. He didn’t even have to pull that many strings.
You went to prom, got drunk for the first time, learned to drive, all in each other’s company. You had each other’s virginity. You’d seen, touched and savored every inch of each other. There was almost nothing you didn’t share.
It wasn’t too long after graduation that Leon applied to begin training at the police academy, just like he’d always dreamed of. It was a solid profession with plenty of benefits for both of you and it would give him the opportunity to help people, ticking off all the boxes of what he wanted for himself. It was perfect, it was safe.
No one was surprised when he soared through the police academy with impeccable marks. You were such a little angel when he graduated, showering him with kisses and sweets and letting him pound you into the mattress for a whole weekend to celebrate. And when his application in Raccoon City was accepted, you did exactly as he hoped you would and you followed right along with him.
Of course you would follow right along. You didn’t know what life without Leon meant. You couldn’t even conceptualize what that would feel like and you had no intention of finding out, but that was fine by him. He was happy to be your rock, your guidance, your big, strong boyfriend who would hold your hand and follow you through everything.
With Leon, you would never be alone. You would never be far from home. After all this time, he was your home, exactly as your lives were designed.
For the first few months of living in Raccoon City, the two of you shared a cozy apartment. It was a little worse for wear, but it was cute, and it was a fun way to start your adventure into young adulthood together. He was happy to handle all of the spiders and quadruple check the locks every night if it made you feel safer, if it gave you an excuse to come crying to him like a beautiful angel whenever you were frightened.
Bumps in the night, creaks of the pipes, the skittering of the upstairs neighbor’s little dog, they all sent you folding into his arms, shaking like a leaf, crying for him to protect you. He was your knight, and God were you his perfect little princess. The apple of his eye, the one and only object of his affection. No, not his affection, his obsession.
You were all he thought about, day and night, for more than half of his 21 years of living. Everything he did, every breath he took was with you in mind. You were the only living manifestation of complete and total perfection, every inch of you crafted with care and divinity. Your lives fit together like puzzle pieces– hell, your bodies fit together like puzzle pieces. You were meant for each other.
It wasn’t long after you moved that the job you had lined up fell through, and you were left reeling. Moving away from home just to fall flat on your face was a massive blow to your self esteem, especially considering your parents practically screamed a hole through the phone at you about it. The next few days were spent sulking around the apartment, trying to pick up the pieces and choose a completely different path for yourself.
And there was Leon to hold you while you cried. To make dinner every night and dote on you endlessly, to pamper you with gifts and to insist over and over that he could make rent on his own, that he didn’t mind if you needed a little more time to wallow before finding a job… and to console you when your search for employment would prove fruitless once again.
He was there to tell you it wasn’t your fault, that the job market was just rough right now and that no matter what, he would be there to take care of you.
Weeks stretched into months and you still felt like you were spinning out, even with Leon by your side. Every single day was beginning to feel the same and you didn’t know what to do, all you knew was that you couldn’t imagine living the rest of your life like this. Something had to give and Raccoon City clearly wasn’t it.
Leon came home with a big smile on his face, just like any other day, but today was extra special. He’d finally had his one year review at the police station, and he was getting a sizable raise. He couldn’t wait to tell you he was gonna get you out of this shitty apartment and into somewhere nicer. He couldn’t wait to sneak his way down to the jeweler in search of a ring. The storybook life he had laid out for you was coming to fruition right before his eyes.
But you were quiet over dinner, and you looked exhausted. You wouldn’t even meet his eyes as you picked at your plate.
He was just about to ask you what was wrong when you finally spoke up, “I-I think I need to move back home with my parents.”
Silence. He felt like he had been shot.
“It’s just that… I know you said you’re happy to take care of bills and everything, but I just feel terrible every day being a burden and I think I need a chance to figure things out and get back up on my feet. I don’t even know what I’m doing with my life anymore.”
His expression fell and his heart ached, any and all excitement he had about his situation now gone in an instant. All the money in the world meant nothing to him if he couldn’t share it with you, and to see you so lost and scared made him feel like he fucking failed you, his poor, sweet princess who looked to him for purpose and protection and partnership.
Leon wasn’t stupid. He knew that allowing you to move back in with your parents could potentially be a death sentence to your relationship. When people aren’t around each other anymore, it’s only natural that they drift apart, and Leon could not let that happen. It wasn’t even an option in his brain. Something had to be done and something had to be done now, before your lease was up in a few months, before push came to shove and you would finally have to make your choice.
He wasn’t even really sure where he got the idea. It wasn’t something he’d ever considered before, mostly because he didn’t think he’d ever be put in this position.
A few nights after that conversation, Leon couldn’t sleep. It was well past two in the morning and you were peacefully asleep beside him while he stared at the ceiling, entirely lost in thought. He witnessed the worst and darkest of humanity at work every single day, but nothing scared him as deeply as the idea of losing you.
Eventually he got out of bed as carefully as he could manage, not wanting to wake you with his troubles. He only planned to get some water and maybe a minute or two of fresh air to clear his mind, but what he didn’t plan to get was some inspiration.
You had asked him to stop at the store on his way home from work to pick up a few things you needed, and the bag was still sitting on the counter. He took it upon himself to grab a few things he needed, too, and among the items left in the bag was an unopened box of condoms. At first his eyes skimmed over it without much interest, but it wasn’t long before he froze where he stood and turned to look at the bag again.
Leon wasn’t sure what came over him. He didn’t really feel like himself, it was like he was watching his next moves from a third person perspective, hovering above, detached. For a moment he even wondered if he was sleepwalking, or if this was a dream. He stared down at the box in his hand, carefully opened it, and pierced a hole in the center of each and every one. He tucked the packets back into the box and brought it with him on his way back to the bedroom, stashing it in the usual spot in the bedside table.
On his side, of course.
He tried to go back to sleep, but he couldn’t help but just watch you. You were so pretty, so peaceful when you were dreaming, such a nice contrast to the stress and insecurity over finding your life’s purpose that plagued you in your waking hours.
But Leon already knew your life’s purpose. He reached out, gently brushing your messy hair away from your sleepy face so he could admire you more fully, and all he could think about was how much happier you’d look with a ring on your finger and a baby in your belly. Maybe an unexpected nudge in the right direction would set you back on the correct path and make you come to your senses about moving back in with your parents.
You huffed out a sleepy little breath from between your plush lips, stirring in the bed and peeking open your eyes to look at him. It was clear you weren’t fully conscious yet, but you were trying, squirming closer to him to tuck yourself into his chest.
“W’time is it?” You mumbled, rubbing your eyes.
He smiled fondly, petting your hair and pressing a kiss to the crown of your head as you cuddled up to him like a sweet little baby bear, and he tried to pretend he hadn’t accidentally made himself hard as fuck thinking about knocking you up just to get you to stay with him. Somewhere deep down, he knew it was gross, he knew it was wrong, he knew it could violate your trust in so many ways.
But Leon was nothing if not a yearner, a hopeless romantic who couldn’t bear the thought of life without you by his side. He’d done everything right by you and you were still straying away from him, and that just wouldn’t do. It’s an act of desperation, he thought to himself, justifying his actions into the ground, I just want her so badly I’m not thinking straight, all pleas for forgiveness he would store for later use.
“It’s late, baby,” He mumbled into your hair, breathing in the scent of your shampoo. “I’m sorry if I woke you up.”
You just shook your head and tightened your arms around him, clearly on the verge of dozing off again. Perhaps if the circumstances were different, he would have just let you, but he wouldn’t be awake in the first place if it weren’t for the extreme sense of urgency he felt.
His broad, warm hands engulfed you, one cradling the back of your head while the other rubbed your lower back, tapering off to paw at your hip. Your shirt– well, his shirt– had ridden up nearly to your waist, baring your cute panties, your soft belly and your plush thighs to his gaze. He swiped the pad of his thumb along your hip, imagining your bone structure spreading open to make room for his growing baby.
Leon didn’t take the time to talk himself out of it before his fingertips were sneaking down between your legs, slipping beneath your panties and finding your clit with practiced ease. The sensation was enough to jerk you awake again, a quiet mewl tumbling from your lips as you rocked into his hand, so sleepy and out of it and just so very cute.
“Leon?” Your voice was thick with sleep, but airy and light with sudden onset desire. That was all he needed to know he had you right where he wanted you.
“Shh, shh, you’re alright,” He cooed softly, following up the soothing whispers with a few gentle nibbles and bites to the shell of your ear, knowing that such attention always melted you into a puddle. “You’re alright, pretty baby, I just wanna play with you. Can daddy play with his sweet angel?”
You squirmed in his hold for a second, pondering his proposition while barely awake, but it wasn’t long before you were nodding into his shoulder and peppering his collarbone with wet kisses in return. It never took much to convince you when he spoke to you like that, so adoring and saccharine.
“That’s my good girl,” He mused, invigorated by your consent. Almost instantaneously he became more heavy-handed with his touches, fingertips massaging firm, purposeful circles around your clit, occasionally dipping down to collect your growing arousal and bring it back with him. “You’re all mine, you know that? Never gonna let anyone else have my baby.”
Poor you. Clueless of his intentions, you interpreted that sentence in a much different way than he really meant it. But, ignorance is bliss, and what you felt right now was nothing short of blissful.
You poked your head up just to catch his lips with your own in a wanton grasp for more intimacy, a signal of your agreement, like you were giving yourself to him. He knew it was wrong that you didn’t fully realize what you were agreeing to, but again, he compartmentalized that, deciding that was a problem for his future self. What mattered right now was securing your place at his side for the rest of your lives.
He could feel the way your hips were stuttering, he could feel how short your breaths were becoming against his lips, and he knew you were getting close. Grunting into your mouth, he forced his hand further down your panties and sank two thick fingers into your hole, stretching you open for him. The intrusion was quite a bit less gentle than you were used to from him, drawing a shocked whimper from you, but you soon began to relax once more when he curled up into your sweet spot, sending you boneless.
“D-Daddy,” You whined, nails biting into his shoulders. “Hurts… Slow, slower…”
A shiver rolled over his body, that of immediate guilt. He knew he was being a little rough with you, and he certainly didn’t want to hurt you, but…
“Fuck, I can’t help it,” He groaned, “Been thinking about this pussy all night, princess, I need you like air…”
You could hear the desperation in his tone, and even more you could feel it in the way he touched you like he was starving, like he was stranded in the desert and you were an oasis. Softened by this– and entirely hypnotized by his praise– you resigned to the feeling, allowing him to play with your body as he pleased. He was rutting into nothing without even thinking about it, his cock woefully hard and straining against the front of his grey sweatpants.
He wanted to prepare you properly, he really did, but he was so revved up and needy, he didn’t want to risk blowing his load anywhere but inside you. That wasn’t an option. Hands shaking, he pulled away from you just long enough to kick his sweatpants off and reach for one of those condoms, silently resenting the fact that he had to wear one at all, but he had an appearance to keep up.
He tore the package open haphazardly with his teeth and rolled the condom on, shuddering deeply. His grasp was tight on your thigh as he pulled it up and over his hip, his other hand pushing your dainty purple panties aside to guide his cock into the heavenly, pillowy walls of your ethereal cunt.
Fuck, you were so fucking tight, clenching around him, whimpering and whining and writhing like a perfect little puppy in heat. Leon’s teeth sank into your shoulder as he bottomed out in you, and he almost could have sworn he felt the tip of the condom rip open even wider. The image alone had him moaning like an animal, pinning your quivering body to his own while he rolled his hips, fucking you deep and hard and slow, savoring every single stroke of your slippery walls around his aching cock. Every meeting of your hips was joined by obscene squelching with the way you were practically sucking him in.
“G-God, fuck,” Leon growled, his face contorted with pleasure. You and Leon had always had what you considered to be an active and healthy sex life, but you’d never seen him quite so beside himself with raw lust. Whatever drove him in that moment was primal, and you could feel it in his every movement, his every breath, see it in the wild look in his eyes.
His pupils were like dinner plates as he gazed down at you, stamping your forehead with kisses and feeling over every inch of your body. “Look at you, just look at you… Such a perfect little dolly for daddy to love on forever and ever, huh? Oh, my princess…”
You were lightheaded with arousal, every nerve ending in your body lighting up with white hot pleasure. You could barely even form a sentence, just nodding along as he moaned out his praise and letting him manhandle you like a ragdoll. Perhaps his words had more than a modicum of truth to them.
“F-Feels so… so… fuck, daddy, feels so good,” You babbled mindlessly, head falling back to the pillows beneath you. He was overwhelming your senses, taking over every corner of your mushy brain. The room was dark and you were still a bit delirious with sleep and to that effect, nothing existed in your world right now but daddy, daddy, daddy…
He laughed softly, pressing a kiss to the spot on your shoulder he’d so harshly bitten earlier, the pace of his thrusts not faltering for a second. “Yeah? I’ll bet it does, judging by the look on you,” He teased, nipping at your throat. “So pretty when you’re all fucked out.”
Your back was arching up off the bed, your eyes rolling back and your walls pulsing around him. Addicted to eliciting pleasured reactions from you, Leon wedged one hand between your two bodies, flattening his palm on your lower belly before pressing down.
Stars. You saw stars. A broken, high-pitched cry ripped from your throat, and you didn’t even have the capacity to hope the neighbors didn’t think you were being murdered, because you didn’t care. You could feel every rigid inch of him inside you, dragging over every nerve, his cock stuffed so deep that you swore you could feel him in your throat. Toes curling and your nails raking down his naked back, tears were beginning to prick at your eyes– you were close.
That was a good thing, though, considering he was too, and he could only hope the wet heat of your release would mask the feeling of his own. Leon sealed his lips over your own once more, swallowing your broken, needy cries as he fucked you to completion, letting his hand fall a little bit lower until his fingertips were on your clit again.
Your body twitched at the stimulation, thighs clamping down tight around his hips as you sobbed into his mouth and soaked his cock with your gushing sex. “Daddy,” You wept, clinging to him for dear life as he fucked you through your high, his own spilling out in sync. “Daddy, daddy, daddy…”
“Shh, I’ve got you, baby, I’m right here,” He cooed, taking your bottom lip playfully between his teeth before pressing a gentle kiss to the tip of your nose. “Just stay put, you’re doing so good for me, angel…”
His hips continued to piston forward as he hoped to force as much of his cum into you as he could manage, while still maintaining the believable illusion of protection. He intended to put every last one of those tampered-with condoms to use, though he wondered silently to himself if you might give up and just let him take you raw once you were to inevitably find out you’re pregnant.
You were a weeping, shivering mess in his arms, thighs clenching and twitching around him as he shushed you and babied you, petting your hair away from your tear-stained face and stamping you with delicate kisses, still stuffing his cum into you with shallow thrusts. He couldn’t wait to see you blossom right before his eyes. He couldn’t wait for you to realize your purpose was right here with him. He couldn’t wait to have you to himself for the rest of your days, his princess.
Leon remained sheathed deep within you, even as he softened, wanting to make sure you stayed plugged up well. But, he also couldn’t resist the warmth and wetness of you, how comforting it felt to be enveloped by you.
“You just stay put right there, okay, princess?” He reiterated quietly, lips brushing over your brow in a loving kiss. “Want you to keep daddy warm for the rest of the night. Can you do that for me?”
As if he even had to ask. You would have done practically anything for him when reduced to such a bleary, agreeable state of mind. He knew you all too well.
You just nodded like a bobblehead, dreamy, doe eyes staring up at him through teary lashes, hanging off his every word like gospel. He tucked you in even closer to his chest, cradling you with such adoration, his hips rocking forward every now and then just to get a reaction out of you, and to remind himself this was real.
He wasn’t at all surprised that you were able to fall asleep like that, stuffed full of cum and sated like a good little princess deserved to be. In a perfect world, you would never have to move again, just stay there in his lap forever and soak up every drop of him you could take.
In the coming weeks, that box of condoms wouldn’t last long. The only thought on his mind day in and day out was bending you over every surface in the apartment, and you thought nothing of it. Of course you noticed his sudden, insatiable lust for you, but you assumed it was a symptom of knowing his beloved girlfriend was just a few short months away from potentially leaving. He was only grasping at every inch of you he could commit to memory, right?
In all fairness to you, you weren’t exactly that far off.
Your tired eyes pried open at the familiar feeling of Leon rutting up against you, gripping at your hips like you would disappear if he didn’t. The morning sun was just barely beginning to peek through the windows and the bed was warm, it was a lovely way to wake up, one you would never get tired of.
Or at least you never thought you would. You loved Leon— and his sexual prowess— very dearly, but you also loved being able to sleep through an entire night without interruption, and you hadn’t been getting much of that over the past several weeks.
“Mnh… Leon, babe,” You grumbled, burying your face back into your pillow. “Not today. I’m exhausted.”
He was taken aback by this at first, and then his expression fell with disappointment. Leon had gotten so used to breeding you dumb every morning before work that he wasn’t confident he could go back to functioning without it. Regardless, Leon knew that continuing his attempt to seduce you while you were this grouchy would be a death sentence, so he opted to take the path of least resistance.
After the moment or two it took for him to process that decision, Leon’s touches quickly shifted from provocative to soothing– he was no longer grasping at your hips but wrapping you up in his arms, pressing gentle kisses to your temple and cheekbone as if to regain your good favor.
You hummed contentedly, relaxing back into his embrace. Leon always warmed up like a heater in the night, and you were more than happy to bask in it. His muscular frame was like a weighted blanket and his presence alone was usually enough to knock you out like a light, but for some reason, you were struggling to fall back asleep. Every second felt like five minutes and despite your best efforts– and your complete and utter exhaustion– sleep refused to reclaim you.
Biting back the urge to blame Leon for waking you up in the first place, you huffed out a breath and rolled over in his arms, hoping the change in position might be just what you needed.
Wrong. Very, very wrong. Something about the movement made you dizzy, nauseous, your stomach twisting into knots. You wanted to say something, but you weren’t even sure what to say. It came on so suddenly that it caught you off guard and you weren’t even fully confident you would be able to get up at first.
You whined his name quietly, nuzzling into his chest and wrenching your eyes shut in an attempt to reorient yourself, your arms closing around your middle instinctively.
“You alright? What’s the matter?” Your sweet boyfriend asked quietly, brows furrowing with concern. He could feel your body trembling against his own, your back rising and falling with short, shallow breaths.
Now it was your throat tightening, too, and the second your mouth started to flood with saliva, you knew what was about to happen. Leon didn’t stop you when you writhed out of his embrace and stumbled out of bed, depending on muscle memory alone to get yourself to the bathroom with how woozy and ill you felt.
You just barely made it to the toilet in time to vomit. The cold tile felt nice on your knees, but the impact, not as much. It wasn’t long before Leon materialized at your side with a glass of water and a cold washcloth to hold over your forehead, rubbing your back and already silently conspiring to call out of work and give his poor, sick angel the princess treatment all day.
You collapsed back into his chest with a deep shudder, reaching for the water in a desperate attempt to wash the taste of bile from your mouth. He ended up grabbing it for you, raising it to your cracked lips and helping you take slow, measured drinks.
“There you go, pup,” He hummed, rocking you gently in his lap, his poor little darling princess. “I’m sorry you’re not feeling well.”
Your eyes fluttered closed, a sense of relief washing over you at last. Maybe you just caught a bug, or ate something your body didn’t agree with, or your stress and exhaustion were finally catching up to you. Surely you would feel better within a few days.
“I’m okay,” You whispered, reaching for his hand and squeezing it affectionately. “Thanks for taking care of me.”
Leon smiled, a burst of warmth spreading through his chest. You couldn’t possibly imagine what that meant to him, considering he chose to interpret it in whatever way felt most validating. After all, no one could take care of you like Leon could, and they wouldn’t have the chance to try, anyway. Not over his dead body.
Stooping down to kiss the crown of your head, Leon’s every word was thick with syrupy sweetness, “My baby, I would be so lost if I didn’t. Taking care of you is like breathing to me.”
And he meant every part of it. He didn’t just mean it, he showed it. He showed it when he held your hair back, and he showed it when you realized you couldn’t even remember when you’d had your last period. He showed it when you sent him to the drugstore in the middle of the night for pregnancy tests, and he showed it when you broke down crying at the results, wondering how this could have happened.
His favorite part was showing it when you tearfully called your parents and told them you were staying in Raccoon City, not because you had found a job, but because you were pregnant.
“I can’t believe they’re choosing to react like this, sweetheart, I’m so sorry. They should be happy for you, and it’s awful that they’re anything but happy for you,” He said, voice low and soothing, tone purposeful. “I’ve got you, princess. I’ve got you. I’m gonna take good care of you and this baby, and we’re gonna be happy. Alright?”
Leon tipped your chin up with his knuckle, making you look at him. Your cheeks were red and your eyes were puffy with tears, droplets still clinging to your little dolly eyelashes.
It was hard not to believe him when he spoke with such conviction, when he looked at you with those rich blue eyes that bled from an endless well of love. The pad of his thumb skimmed over your pouty bottom lip as you unknowingly submitted to his grand design.
Hot damn it's been too f*cking long! I just want to say if you're reading this, ily so much<3 I started this tumblr just to get out the brain rot in my head for this man, and I love having found so many ppl who feel the same<3 enjoy bb;)
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By the time Leon found you, he was fuming. How the fuck had you gotten this far away? From what he knew about this parasite it should have slowed you down if anything, not made you faster.
You were trying your absolute hardest to get your breathing under control. Your breath coming out in short, quick pants. The sound of your blood pumping only increasing in your ears as you kept hearing an unfamiliar voice speak to you. If you weren't so out of breath, you'd be pissed. You were slumped against the base of a tree, fighting to keep your eyes open as extreme exhaustion began to settle its way into your features. You hadn't even heard the agent sneak up on you.
"Y/n?" Leon asked, putting the back of his hand against your forehead, confirming what he already thought.
"Fuck you're burning up. Y/n?" He called your name again.
Leon? Was Leon speaking to you? His voice sounded so faint you weren't really sure.
"Goddammit," Leon muttered under his breath as he went to slide his arms under you, attempting to pick you up. His heart sank a little when you didn't fight him back. No comment, no movement, no resistance from you at all. The parasite was progressing faster than he hoped it would. He had to get you back to Luis and get that medicine in you.
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You woke up feeling groggy as hell and in a bed you didn't quite remember. It wasn't your bed, that was for sure. You didn't really feel as if you had slept either. Your exhaustion fading slightly as you moved to sit up. That's when it dawned on you.
Spain. Ashley. Las Plagas.
Panic immediately set in as you went to reach for your pistol, only to notice it wasn't there. Neither was your knife, or any of your tac gear for that matter.
"Feeling okay?"
Leon's voice startled and calmed you at the same time. He must have taken your tac gear.
"Yeah, just a little tired and," you trailed off, rubbing the back of your neck, feeling how stiff all of your muscles felt.
"Out of it?" He finished for you.
You nodded your head in agreement.
You half expected to see the black veins crawling their way up your arms, but you couldn't find any.
"Luis has medicine, it didn't get rid of the plaga but it should have slowed it down." Leon said, answering the question you were thinking but hadn't asked.
"Y/n," Leon spoke your name, causing you to turn your head and look at him, "you know Luis has a lab here that can remove the parasite."
He wasn't asking you, but you nodded your head anyway, you did know that.
"Why did you run?"
Run? When had you...?
Everything came crashing back to you in an instant. Making your head ache slightly.
You had run, fast too.
Leon already had his suspicions for why you ran but he needed to hear you say it. You were still trying to protect them. Couldn't you get it through your head that your life was just as important?
"Well?" Leon spoke again when you hadn't answered.
"You know why I ran Leon, are you really going to scold me again for looking out for yo-" you cut yourself off "for Ashley."
You knew there was no way he missed what you were about to say.
And he hadn't. But he didn't deserve to be protected, let alone by you. And especially not at the cost of your life.
"If my tactics bother you so much why go after me in this first place?"
This broke Leon right out of his thoughts.
What the fuck had you just said? He couldn't have heard you properly.
"I get you didn't want me on this mission but what I don-"
"No, I didn't want you on this mission."
Leon interrupted you.
"But you have no fucking clue why that is do you?"
Leon was walking towards you now, kneeling beside the bed you were resting on.
"Do you?" He asked again.
"I'm sure it has to do with my lack of protecting-"
"Yourself," again he cut you off, "your lack of protecting yourself. Do you have any idea how fucking nerve wracking it is to have to focus on Ashley when all I'm concerned about is you?"
You could tell Leon was clenching his fists based on how his arms were flexing. There's no way he was saying what you thought he was...was he?
You opened your mouth to respond but cut yourself off. What were you even supposed to say to that? Sorry? Explain please?
You locked eyes with Leon then, your breath hitching in your throat. God, why did he have to be so fucking beautiful? You took a moment to let your eyes wander down to his mouth, picking up on how hard he was breathing. When you trailed your eyes back to his, you could have sworn you saw his pupils get bigger.
"Say you'll stop me."
"What?" you responded, breaking out of your trance.
"Say you'll stop me if I'm wrong about this."
You could see Leon shifting his weight closer to you, getting up from where he was on the floor and moving to sit on the bed.
"I'm not so sure I could stop myself," he adds, "I'm going to need to hear you say it."
Everything finally clicked in your brain. Why he was so furious at you for protecting others over yourself, why he brought you back, why he was so pissed you were on this mission; what he was asking of you right now.
"I'll stop you." You responded in one quick breath, already anticipating what was to come.
"Thank fuck." Leon moved fast, pushing you against the headboard, resting his hands on either side caging you in. His mouth crashing on yours, a low moan emitting from him the second he felt your lips move against his.
The kiss was intense; messy and fast as his lips explored yours. As if he was pouring all of his frustration into this kiss and taking it all out on you.
When you let your tongue slide against his bottom lip you could feel him tense, his grip on the backboard of the bed growing tighter. His lips were so soft and plump, warm and inviting. You wanted to devour him, taste everything he had to offer.
Feeling your tongue Leon eagerly turned the kiss into more. Your tongues wrestling for dominance as you both drank each other in.
Feeling bolder, you placed your hands against Leon's chest, moving your hands up and down feeling all of the taut muscles underneath his shirt. You began moving your hands lower, letting Leon take control of the kiss while your hands were on a mission.
You could feel the sharp intake of breath Leon had, the gasp he emitted once your hands found what they were looking for.
He was so unbelievably hard for you. Painfully so you thought to yourself as you palmed him through his cargo pants.
Leon broke the kiss, letting his head fall to your shoulder as his breath came out in rough pants, his hands still leaning against the backboard.
"Fuck," he panted, voice coming out slightly higher in octave, "God, fuck please don't stop."
You were mesmerized watching how his body reacted to yours. The way his hips moved on their own, finding rhythm with your hand and grinding into you.
"Do you understand now why this mission has been utter torture for me?"
You let out a little giggle, not to mock Leon's torment, but more so because of the inner turmoil you'd been going through ever since your last conversation with the man. How all those feelings of hurt could have been avoided.
"You think that's funny?"
Leon had lifted his head now and was looking down at you, smirk plastered over his lips.
You had no time to respond before Leon trailed his hand down over your sex. The contact through the clothes making you shiver slightly.
You wanted him so fucking bad. You hadn't realized how empty you felt until his fingers started rubbing circles over you. Applying pressure where you needed it most.
"Fuck, Leon." You drawled out, your hips grinding against his hand, similar to how he had been grinding against yours.
He could just picture it. How insane you'd go from being teased and played with, how you would beg for release, all the cute noises that would come out of you; the way your body would react.
He wanted that, no he craved that, but he was losing his patience faster than he would have liked and his cock felt almost painful pressing against the rough material of his pants.
"Le-leon," you rasped, drawing the man out of his thoughts, "I love that you wanna take your time" oh how wrong you were "but if you don't fuck me soon, I think I might actually lose it."
Fuck, you were perfect.
Leon slipped his hands past the waistband of your panties, feeling the evidence of your arousal. You were more than ready.
Leon flipped you over to your stomach, the sudden change in position making you laugh.
"Grab the headboard for me." Leon instructed, his mouth so close to your ear you could almost feel his lips against you.
"Aren't you going to say please?" You teased him.
Leon chuckled, moving his mouth so that he could nibble on your ear, his hands gripping your waist.
"Please Y/n?" He moaned, doing his best to whimper the end of your name.
You grabbed the headboard instantly, your body immediately going flush hearing Leon moan for you. It sent heat straight to your core. You had never heard the man moan, whimper; hell make anything akin to the sound you just heard as he pleaded with you to do as you were told.
Leon had discarded your clothes and was in the process of discarding his own when he decided to slip a finger in, making sure you were fully prepared. The grip he had on his control now completely gone.
Fuuuuck you were tight. His cock already leaking just on how you felt clenching his finger.
Your back arched, your grip on the headboard tightening.
"Leon for fucks sake," you whined, "stop teasing me. I need this, I want this, pleaaase put it in me?" You tried your best to mimic the whiny plea he used earlier.
It worked. Leon slid himself in slowly, the weight of him resting against you, his grip on your waist tightening. Once he was fully in, he gave you a second, a brief one, to adjust.
"Promise me something" he spoke, keeping himself perfectly still.
"Is this really the best time?" you asked, your hips involuntarily twitching.
"Seeing as I think this is the only time you'll actually listen to me?"
You could almost feel the smirk you were sure was on his face, rolling your eyes you replied.
"Make it quick Kennedy."
"That you'll keep yourself safe, otherwise I might seriously fuck up this whole mission."
"I promise, but only if you'll buy me dinner when we get back."
The smirk on Leon's face grew wider, the fear that maybe your attraction to him being only physical slowly vanishing.
"Promise" he whispered against your back.
There was no warning after that. Leon was thrusting into you as if he was certain a lack of contact would kill him. His thrusts fast and deep, finding that spongey part inside of you and hitting it every time.
You could feel your legs start to give way, The messy pace his thrusts were setting, the rough grip he had on your waist, and the little grunts he'd make every time he pulled out just to plunge back in, had you seeing stars.
"Leon I'm cl-"
"Fuck, wait for me, fuck y/n"
You could feel the erratic way his thrusts become rougher, faster.
He was on the edge, and thankfully you were too.
His thumb found your clit, roughly pushing against it and rubbing it in fast circles.
"Come for me y/n"
Your body answering his command without hesitation. The orgasm rocking it's way through you, sending a shiver across your whole body, the sensitivity in your body heightened as Leon's thumb didn't stop.
Just when you thought you'd actually have to remove his hand, both his hands gripped yours against the headboard, holding you to it as he lost himself inside you, his body shivering just the same as yours had.
You let yourself slump against the bed, utterly spent and exhausted. Leon doing the same, his arm coming to rest across you.
You both laid there, listening to the rise & fall of each other's breaths, taking in the moment, knowing soon enough it would be back to the hell that was this mission.
"Hey y/n?" Leon spoke first.
"Hmm?" you responded, so close to falling asleep.
"When we get back, where should we get dinner?"
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I HOPE YOU ALL ENJOYED LOVELIESSSS! This took me like 2 days to fully finish & proofread lol, incase anyone was wondering lol 😘😘
nsfw (18+) - minors. i stg. do not interact or i will call the cops
reminder that this is a dark fic, if any of the following bothers/triggers you, do not read: yandere!leon kennedy, kidnapping, forced daddy kink, forced breeding, pregnancy, non/dubcon
in other words, dead dove: do not eat !!! u have been warned and u are responsible for ur own media consumption.
chapter index: pt. 1, pt. 2, pt. 3, pt. 4, pt. 5, pt. 6, pt. 7, pt. 8, pt. 9, pt. 10, pt. 11, pt. 12
'something permanent’: the spotify playlist
word count: 8k
description: it seems a little time apart did leon and darling some good. darling wonders if it's too good to be true.
tags/warnings: yandere!leon kennedy, fem/afab!reader, no use of (y/n), kidnapping, forced daddy kink, forced breeding, pregnancy, pet names (princess, angel, dolly, pup/puppy, etc.), angst, paranoia, some religious allegory, oral (f receiving), vaginal fingering, vaginal sex
a/n: note that i've moved the taglist to the bottom of the post to reduce clutter <3 anyway i'm honest to god so proud of this chapter like my heart is pounding right now just getting ready to post it. i'm really looking forward to hearing what everyone thinks and feels after this one, and i could go on about it, but i'll leave the author's note here for now ;w; pls enjoy <3
my masterlist ♡
my ao3 ♡
fic under the cut, thanks so much for reading and i hope u enjoy !!
It wasn't at all difficult for Leon to talk his way into some time off after what happened in San Francisco- - the D.S.O. owed him big time for the damages to his Ducati and his psyche, and with the nightmare of a cover-up they already had on their hands as a direct result of an incident like that occurring on U.S. soil, Leon was the last of the government's concerns. For once, that worked out in his favor.
Naturally, every spare second of time he now had was spent attached to you like a leech... often more literally than figuratively.
"F-Fucking Christ," Your jaw unhinged in a needy cry, hot tears leaking from your eyes which had been rolled far back in your lids for a while now, a length of time you couldn't possibly approximate if you tried.
Your arms were shaking with strain as you reached over your taut, pregnant belly to claw at Leon's hair, yanking him closer, desperate to soothe that nagging ache of desire that had plagued you constantly as of late. He had one broad hand pinning your left thigh to the bed while the other alternated between gripping at your hip and smoothing over your bump.
Pulling away from your cunt to gasp for air, his lips rosy and swollen and gleaming with you, Leon's fingertips printed hard into your skin, but never enough to hurt. "God, look at you," He mused, trailing a line of wet kisses from the hood of your clit to the highest point of your round belly. "Really popped while I was gone..."
In the absence of his mouth, his calloused fingers sank deep into your hole, feeling absolutely no resistance with just how deliciously slippery you were.
Spreading your legs as far as he could with one hand otherwise occupied, Leon ground the heel of his palm against your engorged clit while pumping in and out of you, nipping at the plush, warm flesh of your tummy as he cooed, "Aren't you just a pretty little puppy mama, stuffed up nice and full with daddy's baby? Couldn't hide that gorgeous belly anymore if you tried, huh? Poor thing..."
Something changed between you and Leon following his return from California. Months ago, a statement like that from him would have made you start angry crying. You always used to hate it when he would rub your helplessness in your face just to break you down-- as most people would-- but now it held a certain kind of catharsis to just go along with it.
Maybe it was because his intentions felt different now, too. Given your pitiful track record, you didn't feel comfortable asking him what happened while he was gone, but you had gathered that something happened to shake him.
He was clingy to begin with, became even clingier when you got pregnant, and now he was tightening his grip again. Except this time, it didn't feel quite as aggressive or controlling as usual, it felt desperate. It felt fearful, but it also felt relieved, like kissing the tarmac after a particularly turbulent flight.
Worse yet, your demeanor toward him wasn't much different. At this point it didn't seem as though he knew about your outing, and for as sweet as he had been since the second he returned home, you were terrified that he could somehow find out and snap at any moment.
So, you threw everything you had into gaining his good favor, proving to him that you were a good, obedient pup who would never dare take advantage of his trust in you to do something so stupid and dangerous, and maybe then, if he were to find out, you could preemptively soften the blow. Maybe he would see that you had learned your lesson, that you corrected your behavior on your own and understood the error of your ways, that you understood the importance of following daddy's rules and had long since learned the hard way never to question him again.
It ate you alive a little bit to keep it from him, for fear that your failure to be honest with him might come back to bite you later, but you didn't feel particularly inclined to walk yourself into a punishment over a mistake you had absolutely no intention of ever repeating, either.
Your vision blurred white as his tongue slipped back down to flutter over your clit, his long, thick fingers reaching deep into your guts to untangle the delicate thread of your arousal. He was groaning in response to the flavor of your essence, the vibration sounding through your whole body and carrying electric pops of pleasure with it, your own wanton cries melting in with the chorus of wet noises that accompanied his devouring of you.
"Fuck, you're so fucking perfect," Leon panted into your folds before stooping forward to seal his lips over your bud once more, drinking you in with an obscene slurp. "My blushing, breeding bride..."
"Daddy," You cried out, voice light and airy with need as you rutted up toward his face and devolved into mindlessly repeating yourself, "Gonna cum, gonna cum, g-gonna cum..."
He chuckled, hooking his fingers inside you abruptly just to send your poor, dumb little puppy brain spinning out and to coax more of those precious noises from you. "Oh, are you?" He teased. "Are you gonna make a pretty little mess all over daddy's fingers, darlin'? Gonna give daddy something sweet to lick up?"
He hadn't even finished speaking and you were already nodding, the upward lilt of his tone being the only thing it took for your hazy brain to know you were being asked something, which naturally meant that whatever it was, the correct answer was yes. You weakly tried to grip at his hair again, only to draw an amused puff of laughter from him as he watched you struggle.
"Can't even reach over that bump now? Oh, poor princess... Looks like daddy bred you up too good, didn't I?"
Whimpering, you nodded, giving up your attempt to grasp at his hair in favor of the simpler option, allowing your shaking hand to rest over your swollen stomach as you came undone. Being seven months pregnant was no fucking joke, as you'd come to learn, and while you'd spent the bulk of your pregnancy so far obsessing over your discomfort with the physical changes, recently your self esteem had very much taken a backseat to all the other bullshit that came along with growing a baby.
Your boobs hurt. Your back hurt. Your hips hurt. You were waddling more than walking, you couldn't stop crying, you constantly wanted to fuck, and to top it all off, you were beginning to leak strange fluids from your vagina and your nipples on occasion. With everything you had going on, you couldn't possibly handle worrying about your appearance, too-- at least you could sleep at night knowing you never had to worry about giving Leon the ick.
Writhing and twitching as Leon dragged your orgasm out for as long as he could manage, the room was spinning around you, your jaw dropped in a high pitched cry of his title on repeat until you had no choice but to gasp a breath in. He continued to pump in and out of you down to the knuckles while he sipped from your cunt like a fountain, knowing you could take it-- or rather, that you would take it.
"One more f'me, doll?"
A deep, guttural shiver tore through you. It didn't matter whether you were to agree or not, because you knew it wasn't really a question anyway, so you didn't bother giving him a clear answer. You just clawed at the sheets and tried to prepare for what he decided to give you.
His denim eyes darkened, pupils swallowing up much of the familiar color as he zeroed back in on your dripping sex with fierce determination. Locking his arm around your thigh, he dragged you down the bed until you were pressed flush against his face, the bridge of his nose bumping against your puffy, sensitive clit with the motion. The veins in his bicep rose beneath his skin as his muscles tightened to pin you firmly in place, and then he took off like a wind-up toy car.
It was like you were watching him surrender control to something other than himself in real time. The fire alarm could have started going off right in that moment and you figured he wouldn't have even flinched, at least not until he'd had his fill of you, not until he'd delivered upon that promise to work just one more from your poor little body.
"You're always dripping wet when you're being good, baby," He praised, licking his lips salaciously at the taste of you on his tongue as he continued lazily pumping his fingers in and out of your drooling cunt. "I bet you were so horny without daddy around to keep you sated..." Leon unexpectedly withdrew his fingers, admiring how they gleamed with your juices before bringing them up to smear a stripe across the mound of your full stomach.
But the digits returned almost as quickly as they were withdrawn, stretching you open with a third and sucking your clit up into his mouth simultaneously, silky tongue catching every last little drop of arousal that dared to leak out of you.
Leon groaned softly, his cock twitching eagerly in his boxers. The sight of you squirming on the bed with a puffy bellyful of puppies that he put in you was almost enough to drive him wild-- knowing that he was the only source of relief from your raging lust was enough to drive him insane and then some, fueling his obsession limitlessly.
"Just beg nice and pretty for daddy, baby. Beg for me to stuff you up with babies so you don't feel alone." He instructed firmly, two fingertips taking an aching pace at your clit as he spoke.
You didn't usually like giving Leon any wins. It just wasn't your style... or at least it didn't used to be.
But you did anyway. You writhed and convulsed and shattered practically on command, your vibrating thighs attempting to stick shut around his head as the noises that fell from you melted down into mindless babbles, and unabashed begging. Before that mission, he would have moved to stop your thighs from shutting him out, but not now. Not since everything changed.
A car door opened and shut, a set of keys jingled, the lock clicked, and you couldn’t move, just staring wide-eyed at the door from the base of the stairs as it swung open to reveal your captor, who froze at the sight of you, too.
His duffel bag dropped to the floor beside him, long forgotten in Leon’s mind as he feasted his eyes upon the image of you for the first time in over a month— or at least for the first time since his phone broke. He nearly fell to his knees with relief.
“Oh, puppy,” He sighed out, tears pricking at his tired eyes, overwhelmed with the insatiable need to feel you in his arms again. In just a few short strides he crossed the distance between you and embraced you so tightly, it was almost crushing.
Euphoria, pure and uncut, a high unachievable in this universe by any other means. That was the only way Leon could think of to describe what he felt in that moment.
Pulling back to look at you, he cupped your jaw with one hand while the other pushed its way up beneath your shirt, finally feeling the soft, round warmth of your bump under his hand again, and he almost could have sworn he felt a little kick. He was beaming now, vibrating with excitement, almost at a loss for words entirely.
Almost.
“My beautiful fucking wife,” He laughed, a single tear breaching the threshold of his eye to drip down over his reddened cheek. “You’ve grown so much…”
You couldn't argue with him there. It felt like you'd doubled in size since he last saw you, your ripening belly putting every shirt in the house to the test over the several weeks he'd been away, and you weren't even done cooking yet. Not nearly.
Now he really did fall to his knees, and Leon's hands came forward to tug your shirt up, baring your rounded middle to him. In no time at all, his lips were scattering across the smooth surface of your skin like delicate rain, his warm hands cradling either side of your stomach as he hoped to himself that he might feel his child kick again, that he might feel them squirm. His lids fell shut as though he were in a dream, or maybe he was reminding himself that he wasn't.
The entire time you felt like you were holding your breath. You didn't know what to say. You didn't even know how to feel. You couldn't tell if you were going to throw up from relief, or from fear. Maybe from guilt? Regret?
Or was it just from the root of his progeny in you? You just didn't know, and as the minutes melted away from you, it all began to collapse into itself until your skull became an echo chamber of blaring alarms and racing thoughts and... and...
"Daddy, I m-missed you," You choked out, one hand coming down to thread into his hair while the other raised up to your mouth, quieting your cries. You weren't even sure if you were just saying that as a defense mechanism, or if you actually meant it, and you couldn't even bring yourself to care. Maybe you did mean it, if only a little. "I-It was so quiet, it was so quiet..."
"I know, I know, I'm sorry," He spoke against your taut skin, locking his arms around your hips to tug you even closer, his cheek squished up against you. He was well over a week out from his last shave, the gruff shadow on his face tickling you as he continued, "I don't ever wanna have to leave you like that again, baby. Never ever. I'm so sorry--"
"W-What if you didn't come back?" You cut him off, bottom lip wobbling, "How long was I supposed to wait? What was I supposed to do?"
He shook his head at this and cut you off firmly, determined to nip that line of thinking in the bud. "Don't say things like that. It didn't happen that way and it's never going to, do you hear me?"
"W-What even happened?"
"Do you hear me, puppy?"
For a moment, you hesitated. Wasn't the whole issue with his job that he had absolutely no power? That there wasn't an assignment he could turn down, or a day he could take off, or a report he could slack on, or an order he could defy? How could he say with any certainty that this wasn't going to happen again? That it might not be worse next time?
And why did you even care?
Weeping, you nodded. "I h-hear you. I hear you, daddy."
"Good," Leon's right hand rubbed measured, soothing circles along your belly, subconsciously mapping the feel of your gravidity beneath his palm. He would keep you just like this forever if he had the power to, heavy and radiant with his fruit, though he couldn't wait to meet the growing baby in there, either. It was a constant struggle of the mind. "I don't wanna miss one more second of this."
And as such, he wouldn't.
"Shit," Leon grumbled under his breath, standing aside to observe the shelf he'd just hung on the wall before turning over his shoulder to gauge your opinion; "Does that look level to you?"
Humming in thought, you took a step back to get a better perspective. Now able to compare the little white shelf with the rest of the nursery decorations on the pale, lemonade colored wall, it became quite evident why he was concerned-- it might as well have been diagonal.
"It's pretty skewed to the left, babe," You answered him honestly, one hand perched to support the small of your aching back while the other rested atop your belly.
Narrowing his eyes in concentration, Leon joined you where you were so he could look at it from your angle, and yeah, it was pretty fucking off. With an exasperated puff of laughter at his own expense, Leon shook his head and approached the wall again to start taking the screws out. "Well, I guess it's a good thing I didn't go into carpentry."
You laughed too, because he was right. Every last one of those little wall decorations had been a headache to put up, and the furniture was another thing entirely. Just days ago you spent an entire afternoon watching him lose his mind over the incoherent instructions included with the crib you'd begged him to order, hence why it took him half the week to cool off enough to deal with the shelving.
"Well, if you would just let me try..."
But he was already shaking his head 'no' before you made it more than three words through that sentence. He gave you an affectionate look of disapproval before reminding you, "Nope, no way. Pretty puppies don't get to play with sharp tools and heavy things."
You poked your tongue out at him playfully, he poked his right back out at you, and then returned his attention to the task at hand.
With your input, Leon adjusted the shelf and stepped back to observe it again, nodding in satisfaction only once you did too. "Happy with that?"
"Maybe," You grinned, "Can I put the stuff up there?"
Leon raised a brow, "You think you're tall enough to reach?"
"Probably not... but you could lift me?"
He softened at this. Leon would be a fool to pass you up on such an adorable request, although he couldn't help but give you a deep, playful sigh anyway as he opened his arms to you. "Alright, princess. Hop up."
You were all too giddy to do so, letting him lift you up by your hips to reach the shelving. One by one, he handed little trinkets off to you for proper placement, his muscles bulging against his shirt but not even shaking beneath your weight. It was equal parts sweet and a reminder of your weakness in comparison to him, which you felt quite numb to by now, for better or for worse.
Once you had both feet back on the floor, the afternoon melted away in the nursery. With your due date creeping up faster and faster, the preparation felt never-ending, like every time one thing got scratched off the list, another three were added. But in a weird way it was sort of nice-- it gave you both something to do, and whether or not it made sense, you actually worked quite seamlessly together.
Every onesie, every set of sheets, every furniture piece, every toy, every binky and bottle and blanket had to be washed and sanitized and then washed again, and put into place. If it didn't yet have a place, one had to be arranged for it. Every outlet had to be plugged with safety covers, every cabinet had to be childproofed, every sharp corner had to be padded. As expected, Leon was unwilling to take any risks, and you supposed you couldn't blame him. You didn't really want to take any either, knowing the remainder of your life was about to be judged by your ability to raise Leon's children.
What else were you supposed to do, though? Leon sucked, the kidnapping sucked, the IUD thing sucked, the pregnancy thing sucked, everything sucked. But unless the universe would decide to cut you a break by smiting Leon where he stood, your situation would remain unchanged for the foreseeable future, and you just had to deal with it. Like it or not, you nailed that coffin shut when you came crawling back home that day.
And honestly, you still weren't entirely convinced he didn't know you tried to escape. He hadn't said a word about it, he hadn't even alluded to it, but it was still like you physically couldn't stop yourself from overanalyzing his every move just in case. At the same time, you were constantly filtering yourself, playing the perfect princess, strategizing your every word until you couldn't even remember how you felt before you started acting.
Sometimes you wondered if you even were acting anymore.
Times like now, as you relaxed in bed together at the end of the busy day, each of you propped up against the headboard and engaged in your own task. Leon was flipping through a book of baby names the size of an encyclopedia while you worked your way through the unnecessarily excruciating crossword puzzle in today's newspaper, your pen slipping into the next box over when a particularly strong kick to your organs caught you off guard.
You let out a barely audible oof, resisting the urge to roll your eyes as soon as the pain dulled-- the first several times you felt your baby moving in there felt like a horror movie, but now that you'd made it well into your third trimester, it was a sensation you'd become quite exasperated with. You weren't a monster, of course, and even you found it sort of cute after a while, just not while you were trying to relax... or focus.
Or not get kicked in the ribcage, which was most times.
"You okay?" Leon asked softly, reaching out to rest his hand on your bump.
"Yeah," You huffed, sitting up a bit to get more comfortable and hopefully soothe the unborn little one, your hand coming to squeeze his own in the process. "She's just training for her black belt or something."
It came out so easily you didn't even think about it, like discussing the weather. But your phrasing certainly didn't make it past Leon.
He froze, setting his book aside to look at you in complete bewilderment. "She?"
"What?"
"Did you just say she?"
Oh, yeah. Huh. Fuck.
For a moment you just stared at him blankly, unsure whether you were about to be in trouble, and his expression wasn't really giving you any pointers. Nervously, as you'd come to be conditioned by now, you just blurted out the truth, "Y-Yeah, I did."
Outwardly, you were frozen just as solid as he was, but inwardly, you were bracing yourself for nuclear fallout. After all, that's what you'd done that for in the first place, right? To irk him? To hurt him? To get under his skin?
But suddenly you were retroactively regretting that decision. Just as soon as you said it, you were silently drafting an apology, maybe even an excuse. Maybe you could tell him the doctor just said it without even asking. Maybe you could blame it on nothing more than a slip of the tongue-- you just wanted a girl so bad that you must have said it without meaning to... but not even Leon would believe that.
Right as you were drawing in a breath to respond, Leon spoke first. His gaze was intense with emotion, tipping your chin up so he could meet your eyes and ensure you got a good sense of his elation. "Pretty puppy, are you serious? We're having a daughter?"
You were glad he forced you to look into his eyes, because what you found there was unexpectedly disarming. It wasn't rage, or betrayal, or authority, like you'd been preparing yourself for. It was vulnerable and adoring, hopeful, like the only reason he even asked was out of fear that the answer might be no, and any expressed excitement would be for nothing.
"Yeah," The tension in your posture dissolved, "We're having a daughter."
A broad smile set in across his face, his eyes welling with tears as he regarded you with both hands on your belly. Shortly thereafter, you were both surprised by the distinct feeling of your unborn daughter landing a kick beneath his palm, and that really did him in. Leon was all but weeping now, lavishing your baby bump in smooches and happy tears.
Leon genuinely didn't go into this with a preference on the sex of his first born. He wasn't concerned about 'male heirs' or any of that other macho bullshit. He just wanted his darling wife, and a whole brood of healthy, happy babies. Knowing now that the seed he'd planted and nurtured so lovingly in your womb was growing into a girl, a beautiful baby girl, he felt like he'd just had the wind knocked out of him in the most incredible way.
A daughter. You were giving him another beautiful angel just like yourself to protect and adore. Christ, he was so overjoyed that he didn't even entertain the idea of asking you why you didn't tell him until now, because he didn't care. He should have been there in the first place instead of letting himself get infected like an idiot, instead of rotting away on the cell block floor at Alcatraz while you were all by yourself learning the sex of your baby. His baby.
What a fucking let down, He thought to himself. What a complete and utter fucking let down.
Nearly a year he'd spent trying to convince you he would always be there to hold your hand, that he would take care of anything and everything for you, especially as far as supporting your pregnancy was concerned, and he failed you. You went into this scared to death of him and becoming a mother, yet you placed all of your trust on his promise to ease your burdens, and he failed you.
You trusted him, and he failed you. His darling little puppy mama, his beloved wife. He could hardly breathe.
"Y-You shouldn't have been alone," He choked out, lips brushing over the surface of your skin. "My two sweet princesses... I'm so sorry. I-I can barely even think about it."
Of all the emotions you expected from him in this moment, remorse certainly wasn't high on the list. You couldn't do anything but just watch him at first, stunned, and briefly wondering if he was testing you. But there was no way, right? Leon didn't strike you as the type to be able to cry on command-- he barely even cried when he needed to. Maybe you should just accept the win of getting anything resembling an apology from him.
You swallowed that paranoia back, having convinced yourself enough to relax for now. Threading your fingers through his hair, noting silently to yourself that he was probably overdue for a cut after his last mission, you attempted to soothe him with his own reassurances to you, "Don't think like that, okay? You're here now, we're all safe, and it's never going to happen again. That's what matters."
He knew you were only saying that to make him feel better, but it melted his heart just as much that you were trying at all. Not long ago, you would have been content to just watch him hate himself. You might have even thought he deserved to.
And you did, of course, just not for this. He had a lot of things to be sorry about, and his scary government job that he had no control over just wasn't one of them. Over the months you'd managed to gather that Leon dealt with a lot of guilt around the people he couldn't save, and probably also the people he'd been forced to hurt. Even if it wasn't technically a direct result of his occupation, you were beginning to realize that what he'd done to you wasn't exempt from that laundry list of regrettable life choices.
What you felt toward him these days wasn't exactly sympathy... but it wasn't exactly not sympathy. The lines blurred more and more every day, and the further your pregnancy progressed, the less capacity you had to be distraught about it all the time. You had bigger things to worry about, obviously.
Things Leon would rather worry about too, as you were reminded by the heavy thud of that book tumbling from the bed, propelled by the shifting of the covers.
Leon crawled atop you, knees perched at either side of your hips on the mattress. Slowly, he slipped his fingers beneath the hem of your nightshirt to draw it up and over your shoulders, laying bare to him all but what lay beneath your panties, and without incident, to boot.
As you'd come to expect by now, he was pressing feather-light kisses all along the rounded surface of your stomach at the first opportunity. Reaching forward to take your chin between his thumb and forefinger, always careful to ensure he had your full attention, Leon whispered, "Do you like the way your belly looks, sweetheart?"
Not really, was your immediate thought, but right after that, it was, well... I don't know. Do I?
Your heart clenched in your chest as you stared down at his hands roaming the swollen surface of your baby bump, committing every square inch to textile memory by feeling along the curve of it, by brushing his lips over the feathery stretch marks that had bloomed there in his absence. To say you didn't like it would be a complete and total understatement, but with Leon scrutinizing your every move in an effort to gauge your emotions, you were having a terribly difficult time finding the right words to speak.
Finally, you admitted, "Depends on the day."
Which was true. It tasted bitter on your tongue to give him the satisfaction of even insinuating you enjoyed this, but there were times in which you would gaze at your reflection and pretend to be someone else, and in that removed context, you found the woman in the mirror to be quite the cute little pregnant lady-- but Leon didn't need to know all that.
"It'll be okay," He promised, resting his chin atop your bump and breathing in deep, entranced by the heavenly scent of motherhood that clung to you now. "Before long you'll come to love how beautiful you look with daddy's baby in you."
Stroking gently down your sides, unable to ignore just how obvious it'd become that your breasts and the dips of your waist had filled out with the evidence of his claim over you, Leon's cock was starting to tent up in his boxers. He couldn't get enough of you if he tried, even if you didn't want anything to do with yourself. He would take you all, over and over again, let every rejected piece of you flow over him until his cup runneth over.
Meanwhile, you were wondering to yourself what 'before long' even meant to him. You were already 30 weeks pregnant and barreling toward your due date. It's not like there was long left for you to come to love it-- most of the time you didn't even like it.
But the sex was so good. That, even you couldn't deny you'd come to love.
"Daaaaddyyy," You whined, long and drawn out as the throbbing head of him pushed past your sodden hole, tunneling deep into you with a low groan from the throbbing core of his chest.
He could barely keep his eyes open, right hand gripping the meat of your thigh to pin you open while the left steadied you at the hip, and the sounds you made were nothing short of heaven to him. The wet suction of you pulsing around him, the incoherent whining and weeping that knocked from your plush lips with every inch you took.
"You're so damn eager to get fucked aren't you? Poor thing," Leon coaxed you cruelly, even as he could hardly get a breath in himself. There were certainly worse things in the world than having a dedicated partner so keen on servicing you; his possessive nature coupled with your hormonal neediness had turned this unwilling partnership into something undeniably effective and powerful.
As soon as he was sure you were comfortable, his thrusts picked up pace steadily, and as usual, he couldn't help the way his hand crept up from your hip to your rounded tummy. You looked perfect like this, absolutely perfect, down to the molecule. Such a proper little puppy bearer you were, almost to term with your first litter yet already crying out for more, your swollen tits bouncing, your nails biting into his skin and your eyes rolling back in your head, your pretty pussy clenching around his shaft at half the pace of your beating heart. It was an image he wished he could frame, an image of you that only existed in his mind's eye until now.
"Such a pretty, pretty princess," He mused, bringing his hand away from your belly only to swipe his hair back from his sweat-slicked forehead, and then it was promptly returned to its place with a gentle pat to gather your attention there, to just how big you'd gotten. Every rigid inch of him set your insides on fire, feeding a white hot pit in your core that smoldered through your blood and seeped all the way up to your shrinking little brain like rot. Like an infection.
"D-Don't stop," Your words came out in breathy, stunted, braindead mewls, oh, so fucking braindead. Poor puppy, you were so focused on pleading for him not to stop, you didn't even realize you were cumming already, convulsing, sobbing, cunt sucking his cock in so nice and deep that daring to remove it might as well be considered sacrilege.
And it was to him. Oh, God was it sacrilege to deny you the pleasure you so deserved. Everything he did was for you, for the privilege of spreading you out upon your altar and feeling your holy body accept him, beckon him, cleanse him.
"I'm here, darlin'..." He prayed to you, "I'm right here."
"I fucking knew it. I knew you were guilty as sin," Leon scoffed, tossing his cards on the table in exasperation. Bulging arms crossed over his chest, he shook his head and added, "Colonel Mustard, you conniving piece of shit."
Your lips parted with a nervous laugh, followed by a slow, discreet exhale to steady your heart again, only when he wasn't looking, of course. Hearing him say things like that just set your fucking teeth on edge, but even with the little spike of anxiety he caused, you had to admit to yourself that it was a bit funny.
Gathering up the cards on the table, you flashed him a playful smile and asked, "Did you wanna play again?"
You only looked up from shuffling the deck when you realized he was taking longer than expected to respond. Chillingly, that's when you noticed he was just studying you with an expression of neutrality that gave away nothing about what he was thinking. That rarely ever meant anything good for you.
Naturally, Leon didn't miss the way your pupils narrowed to pinholes in alert beneath his scrutiny. Perhaps in an attempt to disarm you, he cleared his throat and relaxed, reaching forward to help you reset the game board. Instead of answering your question, however, he asked you one instead.
"Something on your mind?"
"No," You replied quickly, "Why?"
His eyes narrowed just a teeny tiny bit, barely even recognizable if you weren't looking right at him, if you didn't know him well enough by now. Or did he narrow his eyes? Were you just imagining things?
"You seem jumpy."
Shit. Shit. Shit.
Immediately, you began to beat yourself to hell for letting your guard down. As far as you knew, you were doing so well. He hadn't suspected a thing for so long, and of course you had to go ahead and fuck it all up for yourself over a game of Clue.
Taking a shaky drink of water, you swallowed nervously before responding, "Oh. I'm sorry."
And now his eyes were going a bit narrow. When it came to you, a non-answer like that was a pretty solid indicator that you were hiding something, but Leon was beginning to learn that he couldn't scare you off too early with the interrogating-- he needed to take more of a delicate approach if he wanted to get anywhere with you, especially if he wanted to get anywhere with you willingly.
With a fond, gentle tone and a relaxed posture that he hoped would encourage you to open up, Leon asked, "Sorry for what, pup?"
Again, your vocabulary, your tongue, your lungs, and your brain were failing you in succession, taking turns lighting up your poor, exhausted neurons like an overloaded switchboard. He sounded sincere, he looked sincere, but... But it's Leon, you still managed to think to yourself, and your heart squeezed tight with every other syllable. Then, somewhere in there, you thought, But... it's Leon. And now you really didn't know what to do.
He had been so kind to you lately. Even you had to admit to yourself that a lot of your hesitation to trust him in the month since he returned was just the product of your own overthinking. You couldn't come up with a single thing he'd done or said to you since he'd been back that would give you any incentive to lie to him. In fact, all that came to mind only proved the opposite.
He'd been remarkably consistent with rewarding your newfound honesty, even if it wasn't always exactly the kind of honesty he hoped to hear. The fact that you even made the effort at all was proof enough to Leon that you cared to consider his rules, and the fact that you were honest with him even when you knew you might get in trouble meant you trusted him to help you.
Admit it or not, like it or not, you cared. You trusted him. Your hesitation to answer-- which, to note, was making him sick with anticipation-- proved your inclination for obedience in its own way. Those were sentiments he had to remind himself of as he continued his effort to navigate a conversation despite you not giving him much to work with yet. You were certainly a tough nut to crack, but he'd never felt so motivated to accept the challenge.
Taking your dainty little hand in a reassuring squeeze, he cooed, "My sweet baby... It's okay. Daddy won't ever be mad at you for telling the truth, you know that, right?"
Oh dear God, he's laying it on thick.
Your bottom lip quivered as you tried to swallow back the lump beginning to take root in your throat, only to find you could barely even swallow around it. For four weeks he'd been nothing but sweet to you, clearly putting forth a concerted effort to make up for all the attention you should have been getting while he was gone. For four weeks he'd taken the care to alter his own habits and behavior just to prove that you could trust him to adore and support you through anything, and not just you, but your unborn daughter.
And yet, for four weeks, you'd been lying to him.
All at once you were hit with a sickening pang of guilt that gripped at the centermost part of your gut and twisted it tight. That kindness you'd been enjoying so much was entirely unearned, and the longer you avoided confessing, the more you were taking advantage of him and his belief in you.
"D-Daddy, I have to tell you something," You spewed, and it was only once you heard the pathetic wobble of your own voice that you realized you were weeping already.
Truthfully, Leon was caught off guard. He always prepared for some degree of pushback from you, but this wasn't pushback. You were having a meltdown. Thankfully, he had quite a lot of experience with your meltdowns by now, and he had learned all the best places to start trying to pull you back from them.
So he quickly entered coddling mode.
"Okay, okay, shh, you're alright," He soothed, standing from his chair to kneel beside yours. One hand on your knee and the other still squeezing your own, Leon looked you in the eye as he continued, "You're okay, baby, you're not in trouble. Whatever it is, we can handle it. I'm just glad you're being honest with me now, right?"
In your distress, you didn't really pay attention, but had you been as vigilant as you usually were, you might have noticed how strategically selected his every word was in the interest of encouraging you to spit it out without making you feel pressured. Whatever he was doing was working, because you were soaking it up and nodding along like a bobblehead, even trying to match your shuddering breaths to the pace of his own to calm yourself down, just like he'd taught you.
Just like a good girl would. And all good behavior was worthy of daddy's praise, yeah?
"There you go, there's my good girl. You're alright, see? Daddy's right here with you, and I'm not going anywhere. Just take your time."
But you'd already taken a month. You should have told him the second he walked through the door that day and saved you both the grief, but you didn't, and for that, you didn't deserve his kindness, you didn't deserve his good graces, you deserved whatever he would have coming to you. All that progress you'd made in controlling your breathing was shattered in an instant, your chest puffing with every sharp, ragged gasp for air.
You had to tell him. You should have already told him, and that was no one's fault but your own. Every moment that you continued to hesitate only made you a worse liar. You had to tell him and you had to tell him right now. Right now, right now, right now, right--
"I--"
Everything stopped. For one dreadful moment that you had no idea would be your most recent memory of comfort for the next several hours, everything stopped.
And then it all started up again. One second you were about to spill your guts about what you did, finally finding the breath to speak, and the next second that very same breath was punched from your lungs by a staggering pain that spread quickly from the root of you and smashed everything it touched to bits. As soon as you were finished choking on thin air, any and all thought about your impending confession was seared out of your brain-- you could only scream.
Leon went wide-eyed in an instant, clutching your hand and standing to his feet to quickly assess you. He was choking on air too, for once joining you in a momentary inability to speak, purely out of shock and confusion. Your eyes screwed shut and you were curling into yourself in clear agony-- whatever you were about to tell him didn't matter to him either, now. You weren't faking this.
Taking your face in both hands, trying to get you to look at him, Leon did his best to conceal just how much he was panicking on the inside. He had to be strong for you, he had to be strong for your daughter.
"Sweetheart, hey, you need to breathe," He spoke calmly, but quickly, smoothing your hair back so he could get a good look at you. "Can you tell me what's going on? What hurts?"
"E-Everything," You gasped, and he was trying to come up with a nice way to ask you to be more specific when you continued. "M-My back, my hips, everything..."
You were only able to get a couple breaths in before it happened again, this time with a mounting feeling of pressure taking over your entire lower half. It felt like you were going to pop from the inside if it continued any longer, like your hips were just going to crack and split apart, and it was only then that you realized what this could mean. Little did you know, Leon was connecting the dots too.
"Okay, pup, I need you to listen to me--"
"D-Daddy, this can't... t-this can't be happening, this can't be happening, it's too early!" You wailed, taking two fistfuls of his shirt and yanking with all your strength, like you were clawing at him for a solution, teary, fearful, stinging eyes pleading for your daddy to make it all go away. It ground his heart down into a fine, fine dust.
Especially because you were right to be distraught. It was too early, your due date was still eight weeks away, and he wasn't prepared for this to happen any more than you were. But he couldn't let it show.
"Listen to me," He interjected, his tone firm, but not callous. "I know it hurts, princess, and I know you're scared. I'm scared too, but we're gonna get you taken care of, okay? Right now, I just need you to breathe for me."
You nodded, hanging off of his every word in search of guidance, relief, something to hold onto. Staring into each other's eyes, he lead you through your breathing, thumbs tenderly caressing the tears away from your cheeks as they fell. It was like the room was vibrating with you. The few cycles it took to help you to get a handle on your breathing felt like an eternity, but he wouldn't dare proceed until he was sure you were getting some oxygen to manage the pain.
And, truthfully, he needed to think over exactly what to do. Whether or not you were actually going into labor like you both feared, it was abundantly clear that you needed medical attention-- thanks to his neurotic preparedness, there was already a 'go' bag stocked and ready in the nursery, but that meant he would have to leave you on your own for a minute to go get it. In your condition, he wasn't worried you would try anything if left unattended, he just couldn't stand the thought of you in such agonizing pain without him there to hold your hand.
Unfortunately, it was necessary.
"I need to run upstairs and grab your bag really quick, and then we'll get you in the car, okay? Just sit tight for a second, and keep breathing for me."
He didn't wait for you to answer, because he didn't want to give himself the chance to keep hesitating. As soon as he finished speaking he turned on his heel and rushed off. Enough time had burned away already, time you could have spent in the hospital getting the help you needed.
While Leon was upstairs, you were writhing in your chair at the table, one hand grasping at the edge of it as the other clutched weakly at your belly. Somehow you were actually managing to maintain the pace he'd set for your breathing, if only because that was the one thing you could stand to focus on while terrified and crying by the unwavering pain.
It only felt like you blinked twice before he was pounding down the stairs, diaper bag stuffed to capacity with supplies and slung over his shoulder. Scooping you up into his arms, he quickly moved to cross the house and get you to the car, the distance between your seat at the dining table and the front door feeling like lightyears... especially when you wrenched your arms around him tightly, planted your slick forehead against his chest and screamed, a gush of watery, reddish liquid spilling out from between your legs and dribbling down the front of his jeans.
That piece of evidence, neither one of you could deny. Ready or not, at just 32 weeks, you were going into labor.
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The Emperor Thinks I'm Dying - By Aepeuteo (7/10)
Doting love, dragons, and dark magic! This would be boring but this author makes the dragon reasonably funny, and the constant misunderstandings come from a loving place. Our lovely protagonist can't tell the Emperor she isn't sick, because she made a contract with a very dumb dragon. This one isn't very serious at all.
Lindelle is the best knight ever and she's a beautiful woman.
She wants her crush to like her back.
Soooo...
She locks herself in a 1,167 page contract with a dragoness that wants to find her physical body. She's stuck as a spirit at the moment.
Emperor Sionel is a bastard who killed all of his relatives. Lindelle is an unwanted bastard child. They are childhood friends. She thinks he isn't interested in her anymore, because he is Emperor now. They won. She's no longer his main confidant.
Unbeknownst to her he's been steadily preparing to propose to her. He wasn't ignoring her. He was working obsessively. Trying to make the country as good as it could be, so Lindelle could help him rule a prosperous empire.
Lindelle honestly thinks he'll just let her quit and leave the castle......because they haven't been hanging out.
BTW she will die if she doesn't uphold the contract.
It's why she's coughing up blood.
Sionel immediately alerts the entire castle. He imprisons her, because he thinks she's trying to die alone out of sight. Her friends rush to action.
Her father-figure, The Knight Chief (or whatever) immediately goes on a quest to look for a cure for her terminal disease.
Sionel starts acting crazy, because he's convinced his Empress is dying.
The dragon, Laroque, turns into comedic relief. It turns out that she's weaker than the Emperor. Lindelle could actually die because she can't escape, she can't talk about the contract, and her body is getting weaker.
She doesn't give up.
She's blunt and positive.
She's like a hammer.
She's not the worst protagonist and the dragon spirit is funny.
Her imprisonment isn't very horrifying though.
Her friends visit all the time.
It's sweet and stupid and the dark magic is ok
I love sanemi so much
Sanemi holding his newborn child. Cradling a small bundle wrapped tightly in warm blankets so they can sleep comfortably, little chunky cheek pressing to his chest as he cradles them. You’re fast asleep beside him, exhausted from all your new mother duties while Sanemi has the night shift. Being a slayer for so many years has practically turned him nocturnal, he can easily stay up all night on daddy duty while you get your much needed rest.
Sanemi whispering softly to his baby as they sleep, quiet little praises and affirmations of his love. He didn’t think it was possible to love something this much. To love so hard it makes his chest tight at the very thought of it. He would do anything to protect the sleeping baby in his arms, so innocent, completely untouched by the evil in the world. He’d do anything for the both of you, anything that meant you two living long happy lives.
Sanemi humming the lullaby his mother would sing him and his siblings. The same lullaby he’d hum to Genya on nights where he couldn’t fall asleep even after their mother did. It was a familiar tune, one you knew well because he’d hum it for you on nights where you couldn’t sleep either. Sanemi unable to pull his eyes away from their little face. Noting that they had your lips and his nose, soft little tufts of white hair and long lashes. The chubbiest cheeks he’d ever seen, ten perfect fingers and toes with the littlest nails.
Sanemi memorizing your baby’s face in the same way he had memorized yours, wanting to engrave every single part of you two into his brain. Sanemi quietly settling down with his baby still tucked snuggly in his arms, their little head on his chest, listening to the beat of his heart. Sanemi sighing softly, heart aching and full of love. His twenty fifth birthday was just a few months away, it almost felt surreal as he whispered softly to his sleeping baby…
“I wish I could be here to watch you grow up.”
Kakashi Hatake/F!Reader
Summary: While on a mission to deliver documents, you and Kakashi stop for the night in a place where you probably shouldn’t. Something in the air didn’t feel quite right, despite everything else feeling perfect. Cross posted to AO3
Word Count: 2.9k
Warnings: sex pollen, dub!con, f!receiving oral, blindfolds, fingering, unprotected sex, outdoor sex
Note: I was struck by Kakashi brain rot during my Naruto re-watch.
It was supposed to be a simple delivery task. There was a chance of enemy ninja, which made it not quite so simple as just delivering a couple pieces of paper. The nature of the documents required that two jounin be sent to take care of it. You didn’t know who the other jounin was, Tsunade said she had to do some reorganization of some squads to get you the backup you’d need since this document was now top priority over a couple reconnaissance and recovery missions.
It wasn’t your job to know what was in it that made it so important, but you were very interested in who your partner would be. Hopefully entertaining but at the very least could keep up conversation. It was a long journey to the Hidden Sand, to spend it in silence felt like a fate worse than death. Team compatibility could be what made the difference between a mission’s success and failure, after all.
“Oh, sorry I’m late.”
Kakashi? Oh this was going to be interesting, indeed.
“Helping an elderly woman with her shopping? At dawn?” you take your guess as his excuse, smile on your face as he rubs the back of his neck.
“Sure, let’s go with that. You have the cargo?”
You only pat your vest where the scroll was contained, and he nods before he suggests that you get going. And so you set out, being sure to act as casual as two shinobi heading out on a mission could. Nobody knew about the scroll, so it was imperative that you not act like you had anything that anybody else would want to see.
“We should probably think about camping somewhere or finding an inn to stay at for the night,” Kakashi suggests as the sun begins to set, and you nod before stopping to stand on a tree branch. “Which would you prefer?”
“Let’s get back on the road, and if we can’t find an inn by nightfall then we can set up camp.” At this time of year, it’d be dark in about forty-five minutes. Time wasn’t on your side if your hope was to sleep on a surface softer than your bedroll on the grass. Though there might have been an inn nearby, but you weren’t confident that you hadn’t passed it already due to how fast you and Kakashi had been moving.
For all your hoping, you’d been proven correct in your assumption that’d you’d passed the inn you’d been thinking of and that left you only moderately deflated as you turned off the main road with Kakashi to find a suitable campsite. Off the beaten path but flat was the goal, and you look through some tall shrubbery and smile when you see a clearing. It was really quite the scene with healthy grass, some flowers, and the river wasn’t too far away. The trees provided ample coverage, too, so it really did feel quite secluded. There was something in the air, too, something that put you at ease. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but you also knew that you needed to stay on your guard while on a mission even if the environment told you otherwise. Something about deception and things being too good to be true.
Kakashi offers to take the first watch, and you tuck yourself into your sleeping bag with hopes of getting some rest. Only it’s too warm, so you remove yourself from within the sleeping bag to instead lay on it in hopes that it’d be more comfortable. Only now it’s your vest that feels too heavy, so you sit up to remove it and take a moment to roll your shoulders. Kakashi was here, you were safe to lose that protective padding to get some sleep if that’s what it took.
“Are you alright?” He asks from his perch in the tree, and you look up to see that he’d been watching you. “You seem uncomfortable down there.”
“Does it feel hot to you, Kakashi?” you ask, almost tempted to pull your shirt off but knowing that wasn’t the wisest move you could make. But it was so hot and starting to rub you the wrong way so it needed to go. Sooner rather than later. “It’s so hot out here.”
“It’s a bit warm, yeah, but I’ve been trying to tune it out.” He’s kneeling in front of you now, pressing his wrist to your forehead. You can’t see the frown, but you hear it when he sighs before he tells you that you’re running a fever. “You’re just hot, though? Not nauseous or anything else?”
“I honestly felt fine until just now when I was trying to lay down.” But you’re acutely aware of the fact that he’s still got his wrist pressed to your forehead, and now there’s his other hand on your shoulder and contributing to the heat you felt. “But now I’m just hot, and my clothes feel wrong.”
“Does it feel heavy?”
“Kinda, just rubbing me the wrong way, y’know?”
“Yeah.” So he was feeling it too, and that both relieves you and horrifies you at the same time. What if your perfect campsite was just a massive trap? That’d be just fantastic if all this was your fault. “It’s not a genjutsu, and there are no chakra signatures anywhere near us either. It’s almost like there’s something in the air.”
Something in the air? That was what you had felt earlier, but that something wasn’t making you hot. Kakashi’s hands on you were not helping, but instead were contributing to a different type of heat in your core that was not easy to ignore either. Where was the light and easy feeling that you’d had previously? Where did that go?
“I have to get out of these clothes, Kakashi.” You hope you sound calm, like you know what you’re doing, but you couldn’t even really think straight.
“We have to get out of here, we’ll deal with our symptoms once we’re out of the hot zone.”
“I am the hot zone right now!”
“And we need to figure that out, but losing your cool is not going to help. We’re not going to go far, there’s another clearing nearby and I think we should be okay there. Let’s gather our things and move.” The instruction is clear and, despite how awful your clothes felt against your skin, you follow them without question. By the time you’ve settled in the new campsite you can’t stop yourself, taking your shirt off with your vest and laying back against the cool grass in hopes that it’ll help you relax - even just a little bit.
The air felt different here, sure, but you still felt too hot. A look to your left tells you that Kakashi was feeling the heat too, since he’d removed his vest and was trying to fan cool air onto his skin. There was another more obvious problem just south of the hem of his shirt, but you avert your gaze from your partner to keep from potentially making him uncomfortable.
“Doing okay?” he asks, and you shake your head since you were still feeling too hot even with your shirt being off and cool air hitting your skin.
“Still too hot, but I’m running out of layers,” you mumble, jumping nearly out of your skin when you feel his hand on your stomach. How he got there that fast was not a question you’d waste time on, since the man did train with Gai. What was more pressing was the physical contact he’d initiated, all he really needed to do was move that hand just a bit further south and you were certain that’d either fix everything and make the problem worse - but such was the shinobi way of life. “That’s not helping.”
“I thought not,” he mumbled, and you chance looking up at him only to feel yourself get so much warmer when you see him looking down at you. There’s something unfamiliar in his eye, and that has you equal parts excited and concerned at what that look could mean. “The air is different here, so we must have inhaled something back there.”
How was he still so functional? You couldn’t give a damn about what could have you feeling this way, there were more pressing matters such as your body feeling like it was on fire and the growing discomfort with how wet your underwear was getting.
“Please stop talking,” you whine, your hand grabbing his wrist. His pulse is racing beneath his skin, his thumb starting to move against your skin until you let out another whine at the contact. “But keep touching me.”
“You’re sure?”
“Only if you want to.”
He shakes his head, and you’re not sure what it is he’s trying to convey but you err on the safe side and release his wrist. You’re ready to sit yourself up, go hide behind a tree so you could rub this out and get it over with, but his hand stays firm on your stomach to keep you in place as he leans in to get close to your ear.
“We shouldn’t do this, but I can’t pull myself away from you when I’m like this and you’re so willing.”
If he wasn’t wearing that mask, you’d kiss him right now. But he is, and that brings you to let him go so you could move the placement of your headband so it’d cover your eyes. Kakashi had to be uncomfortable in the mask, this was how you could ensure that he could be more comfortable while you both were dealing with the side effects of whatever the hell you’d breathed in. You hear him sigh before his hand leaves your stomach, and you pick up on the rustling of his clothes before his mouth is on yours and his hand is pushing at the waistband of your pants. Your hand starts to move, but is quickly pinned into the grass by Kakashi’s other hand as he moves to straddle you.
“Please behave, I’m struggling to contain myself as it is.” The warning has you nodding, but your hips move of their own volition in an attempt to get some friction where you most need it. He pauses above you, then his hands are gone from you only to work at pulling your pants and underwear down.
Your mouth falls open when his fingers push between your folds, the fire burning inside sated by the contact that has you relaxing into the grass. You hadn’t realized just how large Kakashi’s hands were until he had two fingers inside of you working to stretch you open more, and you knew you’d be fixated on those hands long after this situation was over and dealt with. A bridge to be crossed later, if you remembered after all this was over and done with.
A forearm is pressed to your hip, those two fingers part your folds, and you sigh when his tongue slides through to lap at your essence while his thumb circles your already over-sensitive clit. Another orgasm comes and goes before you can process it, your hands moving to his hair to try and pull him away. Instead, his other hand comes to replace his tongue, two fingers pushing into your cunt easily while his thumb continues to play with your clit.
“Are you going to come already?” He sounds amused, but you can’t formulate the words that you need to tell him off or tell him that he was right. “You can come, it’s alright. Let me taste you.”
You’re going to blame your current state on the fact that you were able to come just by him telling you to, that truly had to be it. But he sounds pleased and you’re ready to cry when he continues to lick and suck at your quivering pussy until you’re practically begging him to pull back and fuck you proper. You just needed him to fill you now, fill you and keep you full and fuck the neediness out of you.
“Ask and you shall receive.” There’s more rustling, and you wish you could see what he was doing and how he was looking at you but the headband remains in place to keep your vision obscured.
The blunt tip of his cock coming to rest between your folds has your eyes closing behind the headband, your fingers digging into the soft soil beneath you as he presses forward and stretches you. There’s no time or consideration for adjustments, you’d wager that Kakashi’s patience has worn out given the situation, and you’re not complaining since this is what you needed.
“Just stay put,” he breathes into your ear, his hand taking yours and pressing it into the grass beside your head. He’s still moving his hips against yours even as he speaks, the heat and desperation radiating off of him in waves as he presses a kiss to your cheek before he gently bites at your jawline. “Stay put and let me take care of us, will you do that?”
You nod, your compliance earning you another kiss before he’s pulling out. Before you have the chance to complain, he’s turning you over and pulling your hips up so you’d be propped up on your knees in front of him before he’s pushing back into you. There was no gentleness, no careful consideration of the environment, this was Kakashi on a mission to get you both off and hopefully stop whatever had gotten you both so worked up. His hands grip your hips hard enough that you’re certain there would be ten little bruises decorating your skin later, and he muffles his own sounds of pleasure by biting into your shoulder, it hurts but in the best way possible as he fucks into you at a pace you could only describe as being brutal. There was no rhythm or thought to it, he needed to get off as badly as you did.
“You feel so good, y’know that?” he breathes into your ear, every other word punctuated by a grunt that has you weaker than the one before. There’s a new heat burning inside you, this one you knew how to cope with, and you move your hand so that you could rub at your clit only to hand Kakashi grab your hand and press it back into the ground. “I said stay put and let me take care of you. You need to come?”
You nod, your head falling forward into the grass when his fingers make contact with your clit. At this point you think your body may be too sensitive, and that has you arching back into him at the feeling of the rough pads of his fingers against the nerve bundle.
“Stop running from me.”
“Sensitive,” is all you can gasp out, fingers digging into the grass once again as Kakashi chuckles in your ear. “Please, I’m so close Kakashi.”
This time you stay put when his fingers graze your clit, and you feel all coherent thoughts leave you as your body continues to rock with his as his fingers begin rubbing quick circles while his thrusts increase in pace. All that mattered was him and your approaching orgasm, anything else would have to wait until you could breathe normally again. A thrust punctuated by a pinch to your clit has your body going rigid beneath his, and he’s talking you through the orgasm until his own hips stutter and he also stills.
An arm moves around your waist, bringing you with him when he moves to lay on his side. The headband is moved but you keep your eyes closed even though your back was to him, not wanting to chance seeing his face. Things felt a bit more clear, but now you weren’t sure where the source of the heat was coming from now - the unknown inhalant or the close proximity to Kakashi. The grass was helping, though, which told you it was likely Kakashi making you feel so warm.
“Feeling better?”
“Yeah, a bit,” you whisper, staying on your side while he lies on his back. “How come you were so functional? We were both exposed for the same amount of time?”
“My mask must have acted as a filter. I had it off to eat, though, which was likely where I got truly exposed.” You’re quiet after that, really trying to think about it but your critical thinking still wasn’t truly there. You’d give yourself a headache if you tried, you were sure, so you choose not to think about it for now. “Well I’m going to keep watch, you need your rest if we’re going to continue the mission.”
“What if it’s not fully out of our systems? Shouldn’t we go back to the village for treatment?” You’re sitting up now, still looking away since you weren’t sure if it was safe to look at him yet, but the cold air on your back does feel nice.
“I think we’ve established that we’re pretty decent at dealing with the side effects, no need to delay by going back to the village if we can handle it ourselves.” That has you looking at him, not at all caring about whether he was masked or not. He didn’t truly mean he’d fuck you all the way to the Sand Village if that was necessary, did he? “I think that’s the fun part, don’t you?”
This man was going to be the death of you, you were certain of that.