Update: Sauron is not afraid of hobbits. He was unaware that hobbits existed up until very recently. he literally did not have time to be afraid of them, they went from a 0 to 100 threat level in twenty seconds. There he was, minding his own business worrying about the usual Elves and Men when suddenly these kids are on his lawn and now he’s dead, like just;
What did— who–
did I just get one-shotted by an infant how is this occurring
Honestly I have to love this whole thought process that the Fellowship must have cultivated in Sauron, like…
“These children have found the Ring! But they’re taking it to the elves, of course. I will simply have to catch them on the way.”
“Well, the elves are still not to be trifled with, it seems. It looks as though they have a group of intrepid heroes, how cute! Wait, who’s leading them? Aw, hell.”
“OKAY! Olorin’s out of the way, and now I can finally kill them all and reclaim the- OH DAMMIT, IT’S IN LOTHLORIEN.”
“Well, okay. They’ve taken it onward. Curunir says one of the halflings is still carrying the ring, so he’s going to capture them and we’ll see how this develops. Thankfully Olorin’s still out of the picture and their little group just shattered into pieces, so that’s one less thing to worry about.”
“Aaaaaand Curunir shat the bed. Excellent. Trees, who would have thought? Okay, so we’re back to plan A: conquer Gondor, because if the Ring’s going to be anywhere, it’ll be there.”
“Wait, who’s on the– Isildur’s WHAT? Ohhhh. Ohohoho. Oh now everything makes sense. Isildur’s Heir is back, and he’s here being all prideful again. That’s fine. Really. I’ll just crush him and his kingdom, and then nobody can stop me!”
“WHAT? FUCKING WHAT? THEY SENT HIM BACK? Ugh, alright, alright, I’m cool, I’m fine. He’s still got that stupid wizard costume on, and I’m still stronger than he ever was. It’s not like he can come toe to toe with me, even if he does have an army behind him. This’ll be fine.”
“They’re… actually marching on the Black Gate? Sweet lord, I didn’t think they’d actually do it! This is perfect, everyone’s right here! Olorin, the human princeling, most of the remaining fighting forces of Men, all I have to do is kill them now and– Wait. Someone just put on the Ring. Someone just– That’s a halfling. They’re inside the mouNTAIN OH GOD NAZGUL GO GO G–”
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This picture fries me every time I see it because its the epitome of "sad wet cat" but also because he had the audacity to tuck his blue sweater into skinny jeans. You know he's unwell because no mentally well person tucks a sweater into SKINNY JEANSSSS
Summary: It's June's sixth birthday party and you are all invited (written from Lottie's perspective)
a/n: I figured if a bunch of people unfollowed me after writing mild gae, I should probably write a little more. Spin-off to my Daddy!Leon multi-chapter series Cooperative Parenting (completed). I loved writing this from Lottie's point of view. Also having this take place at another kid's bday party kinda makes the fic come full circle, don't you think?
word count: 3.2k
Lottie gently shielded her sister’s forehead with one hand, shaking the bottle of hairspray with the other.
“Close your eyes, Junie,” she instructed and the little girl did as she was told. Lottie started spraying to fixate the flour she had dusted all over her sister’s hair.
“What the hell is going on here?”
Leon stepped into the kitchen, hair dishevelled, face a little pillow-creased. When he stretched, Lottie noticed the smallest belly pooch protruding from his shirt. She smiled.
Her dad was getting a dad bod.
She loved to see it on him. Because growing up, she never saw him in anything other than absolute top shape. Whenever he got super ripped she knew her dad was going out into the field again soon, leaving her and her siblings behind.
As she got older, she realised that not only was he leaving her, he also did it to put himself in danger and would possibly return injured. She also noticed her mom being incredibly on edge any time he was gone.
Another while later, little Lottie understood that the reason why the atmosphere in the house was so tense whenever her dad was gone was because there was a possibility he might not return at all. Since then she had joined her mother in her anxiety.
Which was why, seeing that her dad had put on weight was her favourite thing. Because that meant that he wasn’t going into the field and definitely not planning to any time soon. He could afford to let himself go because he was retired and sitting in his office all day, clocking out on time, heading home like a normal fucking dad.
June wasn’t going to grow up like Lottie had. The little one got to have a normal childhood, never worrying about hugging her dad too tightly because he had a broken rib. June didn’t know what gauze and disinfectant and old blood smelled like when her mother changed her father’s bandage on a gunshot wound. She also had no idea what the name of her father’s dispatcher was, or what number her mother hammered into the phone every single day whenever dad was gone on a work trip, pacing up and down while Lottie was trying to focus on Saturday cartoons.
Leon lifted up the bag of flour and looked between his oldest and his youngest, an eyebrow raised.
“June wanted to dress up for her birthday party,” Lottie explained.
Leon’s forehead wrinkled. “As what?”
“A cool person,” June chimed in, puffing out her little chest.
Leon let his eyes wander over her hair that was covered in flour and hairspray, the rollers in it, then trailed down to her nails painted bright red and the flowery blouse stolen from Alva’s closet that was way too big for her.
“That’s not supposed to be your mom right? Because she’s getting her greys coloured and if you tell her it’s her, she’ll have a meltdown,” Leon murmured and walked over to the coffee maker.
“No,” June gasped. “I’m a cool person, not a pretty person.”
Leon chuckled. “Your mom’s very cool, June.”
“Apron,” she ordered, sticking out her little arms for her big sister to tie two kitchen towels around her. Lottie had made sure to choose ones in red and green, the signature colours of the diner. For authenticity.
June jumped off the counter and walked over to the shoe cabinet, rummaging through it. She was looking for what she called ‘dinosaur shoes’. Why? No idea. But it somehow made sense to her in her six-year-old mind. When she had found her mom’s high heeled stilettos, she stepped into them and stalked back over to her dad and sister.
“I’m ready.”
“Your party isn’t until this afternoon, Junie,” Leon said.
“That’s not what I said, I said I was ready.” June shot him an offended look.
“For what?” Leon asked but June didn’t answer, she just kept walking up and down the kitchen, listening to the sound of her heels on the tiles.
Her dad sighed.
“Who’s coming again?” Lottie asked, clearing away all the stuff she had used to get June to look like a cool person.
Leon unscrewed the top of the coffee tin. “Rhonda, Michelle, Chris and Rose. Maybe Claire if she can make it. Javi’s doing the barbecue,” he listed them all off one by one, counting on his fingers. “Grace is bringing Emily. And then all of us, obviously.”
Lottie’s heartbeat quickened at the mention of one particular name. She ignored it.
“Bottom line: too many people,” Leon concluded and flicked the switch on the coffee maker.
“You’re a Leo, you’re supposed to love it,” Lottie said, grinning at the sour expression on her dad’s face.
“No, I do, I love it.” He pressed his lips together, watching the coffee drip through the machine, rubbing his eyes. Lottie felt like sometimes he had no idea what to do with himself now that he was living a civilian life for the first time in 30 years. It was like keeping a lion in a studio apartment.
Lottie’s mom shuffled into the kitchen, hair like a bird’s nest, rubbing her eyes, yawning.
“Hey baby,” Leon said, face lighting up like the sun had just risen to shine on him personally. “How did you sleep?”
Her mother grumbled something unintelligible and settled into Leon’s side without even opening her eyes fully. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head.
Lottie stared at them. It wasn’t that she had never seen them act like that before. Her parents were the most disgustingly in love people she had ever seen. It was more that she was freshly heartbroken and she was constantly questioning everything.
Had she ever looked at Quinta the same way her father looked at her mother? Did she ever think Quinta was the most beautiful thing on this earth, walking into the kitchen with messy hair and in a god awful worn out Snoopy T-shirt?
The fact that she wasn’t sure sat on her heart like a boulder. Especially because every thought about seeing her girlfriend tangled up with somebody else, hurt like hell.
In their shared bed, no less. With the one girl Quinta had told her not to worry about.
Only to find out that the affair had been going on for months before that and Lottie had been damn right to be suspicious.
Lottie had cried so hard and for so long, she had to get up and throw up in the middle of it. She felt so sick with grief and so incredibly unwanted.
She shook her head and pushed all the thoughts about Quinta away. When she came back to LA she would invite everyone she knew, have a bonfire and throw all Quinta and her had built during their life together into the flames. Clothes, letters, photographs. The whole lot.
And watch it burn.
“Lottie are you okay?” her mom asked, gently brushing a hand over her shoulder.
“Uh, yeah,” she murmured, shrugging. “Just thinking about … stuff.”
Her father gently tucked a strand of hair behind her mother’s ear and went to hand her a cup of freshly brewed coffee, stopped himself, took a tentative sip and blew on it because it was still too hot. He exchanged cups, handing her his that had already cooled down a little.
Lottie blinked. Quinta had never done that for her. Lottie had never done that for Quinta. Everyday deeds that showed how much they cherished one another.
“I’m barely awake,” her mother murmured. “Why is our youngest daughter cosplaying as a senior citizen?”
Two little dragged stilettos over the tiles. “I am a cool person,” June said like it was obvious.
Leon shrugged, shaking his head softly when his wife looked at him confused.
Michelle was the first guest to arrive.
“Calling your daughter June because she was born in June, I will never forgive you for that.” She pulled Leon into a hug.
“In fairness, her due date was supposed to be in July,” he replied. “It’s not my fault she doesn't stick to agreements.”
Michelle leaned in close. “You get my girl pregnant again, I’ll kill you.”
Leon chuckled. “That’s impossible.”
“You said that last time, too. And now we’re celebrating impossible’s sixth birthday.” Michelle pulled away, her gaze trailing down to his stomach. “You put on weight.”
Love was a strange thing. Lottie’s father and Michelle both loved her mother, yet somehow they couldn’t quite figure out how to love each other.
“It suits you though,” Michelle went on, turning to little June to congratulate her and ran a hand over her grey hair with rollers in it. “I thought you were turning six, not eighty?”
“She’s a cool person,” Lottie corrected and June nodded.
“Very cool.” Michelle crouched down. “How do cool people feel about a lego tortoise that doubles as a frog and lizard?”
June’s eyes lit up and she tore through the gift wrap faster than Lottie had ever seen.
The doorbell rang again and Leon opened. It was Javi and Rhonda.
June bolted toward the old lady, parading her outfit in front of her, clearly waiting for a response. Rhonda’s mouth fell open.
Lottie chuckled, the similarities between the elderly lady’s grey hair, the bright red nail polish and a flowery blouse not unlike the one June had stolen from Alva’s closet not lost on her.
June squealed when Rhonda picked her up to shower her with kisses.
Leon and his wife looked at each other, Leon’s palm hitting his forehead. “Of course, she’s obsessed with her.”
June was the most loved kid in the entire world. By her parents, by her siblings, by Rhonda and Javi—and she would get a peaceful childhood, no doubt in her mind that her dad would live to attend her high school graduation. Lottie smiled, watching the little girl giggle in Rhonda’s grasp.
“Hey.” A quiet voice cut through the noise surrounding her.
Lottie turned around, the world stilling for a moment. Grace had walked in behind Rhonda and Javi, Emily holding on to her hand.
“Hey,” Lottie echoed, a blush creeping into her cheeks. She caught her reflection in the mirror in the hallway and froze.
The spitting image of her dad was staring back at her. From this morning, when her mother had walked into the kitchen, all dishevelled and barely awake and his face had lit up like she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.
Lottie cleared her throat. “Glad you could make it.”
The most annoying person in the whole entire world let out an even more annoying whistle behind her.
“Holy shit, someone call the news, because hell just froze over,” Ollie said, leaning in so nobody else heard.
“Shut up, Ollie,” Lottie snapped. “Don’t you have a girl to hit on somewhere?”
Her little brother shook his head. “Nope. But I think you do.”
June knew how to throw a good party. Or rather her servants did. Which included every adult around. She deserved it though. The baby of the Kennedy family deserved to be spoiled absolutely rotten.
It was a strange thing to witness really, at a suburban backyard barbecue. Half of the people sitting around the table had been through hell and back and the other half worked at a diner or the lawyer’s office.
Lottie stood a little further away, sipping on her drink, observing.
June’s ‘dinosaur shoes’ lay abandoned in the grass and she ran around barefoot, playing catch with Emily and Rose. Lottie thought it was unfair. That one of them had had severely more luck than the others, but she was glad that it was her sister out of the three. Was that bad?
“Do you ever look at them and wonder if…” Ollie appeared next to his sister, burying his hands in his pockets.
“Wonder what?” Lottie asked, following his gaze to her parents. Wonder if they ever had sex with Chris? Either individually or together? Or both?
Yes, all the time little brother. But if that has never crossed your mind with the way they’re acting around one another, I’m not going to traumatise you.
“Do you ever wonder if they got all the love there is in the world and everybody else is just fighting for scraps? For a fraction of the great love story they had?”
Lottie’s head whipped around to him.
Nobody ever bothered to listen long enough because he was so god damn annoying most of the time but Ollie was a hopeless romantic.
“They’re so happy. I’m jealous sometimes,” he went on, letting out a long breath.
“Our parents aren’t happy,” Lottie whispered. “Since coming back from Raccoon City, dad's been having nightmares again. All the time, he barely sleeps. And mom sacrificed everything she ever wanted for herself to raise all of us.”
Leon leaned in to whisper in her mother’s ear and her mother started laughing so hard, she nearly stopped breathing.
“But they’re really great at building something. And they don’t hesitate to make decisions.” Lottie nudged her brother in the side. “Unlike you. Was it Ashley or Brandi or Christine, or Ximena? Who are you with these days?”
Ollie pursed his lips and crossed his arms in front of his chest like a petulant little child. “Nobody. I’m saving myself for marriage from now on.”
Lottie snorted, finished her drink and walked up the porch into the kitchen to fix herself another. One day, Ollie would also understand that love was something you chose everyday, not something you were blessed with from some ethereal entity. It was something you had to make yourself. From scratch.
Lottie lined the glass with ice, measured out the Campari and added prosecco and soda water, swirling it around a little. Whoever had come up with Campari spritzes deserved the Nobel prize for poetry or something.
“Can you top me up?” Grace asked, pushing her half finished glass over to her with a smile.
Lottie’s stomach fluttered and handed Grace her freshly made drink without hesitation. “Here, take this, I just made it and it’s colder.”
She froze. Wasn’t this the same as handing someone the cup of coffee that was closer to drinking temperature? Just the apéritif version of it? A love spritz?
“Oh fuck,” Lottie breathed, rubbind her eyes. “This is about to be so complicated.”
“What?” Grace asked.
“Nothing,” Lottie said, surrendering and hooking a finger through Grace’s belt hoops and pulling her toward her. Her scent was so damn intoxicating. Lottie nuzzled the side of her face and breathed in deeply.
“Is this about you going back to LA soon?” Grace whispered, her hands coming to rest on Lottie’s hips.
“That’s part of it,” Lottie whispered, not saying the quiet part out loud. That she wasn’t over her ex and the heartbreak of getting cheated on. Not even close.
Grace shrugged. “I-I mean, we don’t have to decide anything right now? We can just go with the flow.”
Lottie chuckled. She loved how she stammered when she got nervous. “Yeah, but who leads the flow?”
“N-no one? It’s a flow.”
Lottie hummed softly, capturing Grace’s earlobe with her lips. Grace gasped softly, leaning into her touch.
“I’m going to miss you, when I’m gone,” Lottie confessed, trailing kisses down to her jaw until her mouth was hovering over Grace’s. “My beautiful pillow princess,” Lottie crooned, making Grace’s breath hitch in her throat. Lottie’s gaze dropped down to her lips. “I’m going to miss you so much.”
“I’ll miss you too,” Grace whispered, closing the distance between them. Lottie sighed into the kiss. Grace was so damn perfect, her whole body was so soft. Her full lips, her flawless skin, her hair. But most of all…
Lottie’s hand came up to brush over Grace’s boobs through her shirt, her mouth falling open ever so slightly at the sheer nothingness of her bralette. Absolutely criminal.
She took one of them in her hand, squeezing softly, the breathy sound it elicited from Grace making her heart beat faster. Caressing her tongue with hers, Lottie brushed a thumb over Grace’s nipple and it perked up at the touch. So responsive. Lottie smiled into the kiss.
“We’re at your sister’s birthday party,” Grace whispered. “And nobody knows about…us. Except your mom.”
“And nobody needs to know, right?” Lottie purred. “This is our little secret. Maybe you can come see me in LA some time. You’ll love it there.”
Grace nodded, eyes fluttering shut. “M-maybe.”
Lottie leaned forward, capturing Grace’s lips in another searing kiss. Grace pressed herself against Lottie’s body, fingers threading through her hair, the smallest whimper escaping her. Lottie deepened the kiss, feeling a wetness pooling in her panties that was incredibly inappropriate for a kid’s birthday party. But as she said, nobody needed to know. At least for now?
Why was she thinking about a timeline? There was no timeline. Lottie had a bunch of memorabilia to burn first before she could think about Grace and the way her laugh sounded like a windchime on the porch and how she tasted like the sweetest honeydew on a hot Summer’s day. Lottie couldn’t get enough of it. The fact that Grace turned into a moaning, writhing mess under her touch was the cherry on top. Lottie did it for her own enjoyment, for how addicting the taste of her was, but knowing she could give Grace this much pleasure over and over again drove her absolutely crazy.
Grace placed a hand on Lottie’s chest, pushing her away gently. “Stop, someone will come in.”
Lottie, brushed her nose with hers, pressing a parting kiss to her temple, only to lock eyes with her dad. She jumped, feeling like an ice bucket had been dumped over her head.
Leon stared at her, stared at them, empty glass in hand, the expression on his face blank and unreadable.
“I came here to get your mom a Campari spritz, but apparently this kitchen only serves incest,” he said.
“Well, we’re not related. You decided to get yourself another daughter,” Lottie retorted, a little breathless. “I didn’t get a say in this.”
“Leon, it’s not what you think it is,” Grace pleaded, taking a step toward him. “This is a casual thing.”
“Wait, what?” Lottie cut in, Grace’s words like a knife to her heart. For some reason. Because this was mostly casual right?
“I mean,” Grace wrinkled her forehead. “I assumed—”
Lottie shrugged. “Yeah, I mean if it’s casual to you, I guess we—”
“No,” Grace shrieked. “I mean yes. You’re in LA. I thought?”
“I don’t know, I just got broken up with,” Lottie said.
Leon’s jaw worked, as he grabbed the drink Lottie had made, placed the empty glass on the kitchen counter and walked back out onto the porch.
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Warnings: fluff, dad!Leon, established relationship, slice of life, eldest daughter Kennedy, second generation, some suggestive themes
Summary: Your and Leon's oldest daughter Lottie comes home from LA, only to find out that you have replaced her with another, brand new daughter.
a/n: This is pure Kennedy family indulgence. Spin-off to my Daddy!Leon multi-chapter series Cooperative Parenting (completed). Kinda based on this request and this. I'm thinking maybe a part 2 from Lottie's perspective? I'm feeling it.
Masterlist
word count: 3.1k
Arrivals had become your favourite place. Because being there meant your eldest daughter, your not-so-little little girl, was coming home.
“Lottie,” your youngest squealed, as she barrelled into her older sister. You ran after her.
“June, be gentle,” you scolded and June stopped herself, carefully patting Lottie’s cast.
“Mom, I broke my ankle. I didn't completely shatter to pieces.”
“Don’t be like your father,” you said, pulling her into a hug. “How was your flight?”
You knew she was absolutely gutted, but not because of the flight. Breaking her ankle right at the beginning of performance season was the worst that could have happened to her as a dancer with the American Contemporary Ballet. Catching her girlfriend cheating after coming home from work early because of said broken ankle was the worst that could have happened to her as a partner.
Either way, when she had called you crying in the middle of the night, you knew exactly what to do, as a mother: tell her to come home.
“I was wedged between a snoring old guy and a crying baby, while not being able to move my leg properly. How do you think it was?”
You shrugged, thinking about what it was like when June crawled into bed with you after a nightmare and you were trying to get comfortable between your husband and your daughter. “Honestly, that just sounds like my life.”
Lottie chuckled. “Dad doesn’t snore.”
“You haven’t been home in a long time,” you said, throwing her a meaningful look.
“I didn’t think I was missed, given that dad immediately replaced me with a new daughter,” Lottie replied, her face stern.
You sighed. You knew she wasn’t talking about Juniper. “He didn’t replace you and you know that.”
“Are you sure?” she asked. “Because any time I’m on the phone with him all I hear is Grace this and Grace that. He hasn’t asked me what production I’m dancing in once.” She stopped herself, squeezing her eyes shut and shifted her weight on her crutches. “Or was supposed to be dancing in rather.”
“Come on,” you murmured, changing the subject to take her mind off things and pulling her duffle bag off her shoulder. “Let’s get you home. We prepared your old room.”
Lottie’s mood didn’t improve when she stepped into your home. With all your kids there for the summer, even Lottie and Ollie who had technically already flown the nest, and Grace coming over for dinner on most of the weekends, it was a mad house on the best of days.
Leon pulled his first-born into a hug. “How are you feeling?”
Lottie shrugged. “Like shit. But not because of the ankle. More because my career was cut short.”
“You don’t know that,” you cut in, nudging her softly. “You’ll make a full recovery and after that you can get back to training.”
“Do you have any idea how long it will take until my ankle is back to its former strength and flexibility?” she hissed, gritting her teeth in anger. “And even then, my form will be off for so long…” She looked up, blinking the tears away that were threatening to form on her lashline.
“But you’re one of the best dancers they have, right? If anyone can do it, it would be you,” Grace chimed in, offering your daughter a smile, trying to cheer her up.
It didn’t land.
“The fuck are you doing here?” Lottie spat, leaning onto her crutches and walking up to her room. "What even is all this? The scene in 'Home Alone' before everybody goes to Paris? Which one are we leaving behind? June or her?"
Leon drew in a sharp breath.
“Don’t,” you said, gently placing a hand on his forearm. “She’s been having a shitty couple of days. Let her recalibrate. That’s what she came here for.”
"Did you hear that, June? You're gonna be left home alone," Ollie said in fake shock, making his youngest sister squeal in fear and bolt to her father for protection.
"Oliver Kennedy, what have I told you about bullying your baby sister?" Leon came to her rescue immediately. He reached down and picked her up. June was small. She was only five years old, yes, but even for her age she was very petite and fairy-like. The real baby of the Kennedy family.
"The opportunity presented itself and I seized it," Ollie retorted, holding up his hands in defense.
“Well, seize something else. How about those summer classes you’re enrolled in because you failed pretty much every exam last semester?” Leon raised an eyebrow at his son.
“College is really hard,” Ollie said. “Ask Alva. She’s in some of my classes.”
“Your seventeen year old sister is taking early college classes and passed all her exams but you didn‘t. What does that say about you?” Leon pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Yeah, but she’s a genius right? I’m just some guy,” Ollie insisted, trying to defuse the situation. “It’s not that easy for me.”
Alva quietly walked into the kitchen, looking at everybody there, observing as she shuffled over to the fridge and piled a bunch of snacks onto her arms. "Is this about Ollie not going to any of his lectures?"
“You're not going to your lectures?” Leon’s head whipped around to Ollie.
"Yeah, he's hooking up with the entire college campus instead," Alva continued, rummaging through the vegetable compartment and pulling out a stick of celery. "Including one of the professors." She swayed her head from side to side. "Allegedly."
“Alva, I don’t even know what you’re talking about,” Ollie stammered. “I meet them for study dates.”
Alva shrugged, closed the fridge door and reached up for a bag of chips in one of the upper kitchen cabinets. “I must have misunderstood the term ‘community dick’ then. Because that’s what they call him.” She wedged the edge of the plastic under her chin and pressed down to hold it in place while grabbing the mayo off the counter.
You rushed over to Leon and clamped your hands over your youngest daughter’s ears. “They call him what?”
Alva smiled and turned on her heel to walk out of the room.
“Oh, you're going to regret that,” Ollie hissed as she passed him.
"I'm shivering," she joked. "You're not even smart enough to remember the girls' names. I heard from Brandi Meyers that you accidentally called her Ashley when—"
"Speaking of accidents," Ollie cut in, his voice saccharine sweet. "Do mom and dad know about accidental crystal meth?"
The bag of chips fell to the floor. "That was an experiment gone wrong."
Leon sighed, rubbing his forehead and set Juniper down on the floor. "Alright, you, me, talk, right now." He grabbed his son's arm and pulled him toward the backdoor leading to the yard.
"What? Why me? She’s the one who's cooking up illegal drugs," Ollie said, but let himself be pulled outside by Leon.
“Cooking up drugs is not what I’m worried about in this family,” Leon murmured.
Leon was worried that Ollie would follow in his footsteps and become a father way too early. You had talked about it before. The closer Ollie got to the age Leon was when he had gotten you pregnant for the first time, the more anxious he became.
"I'll be in my room until dinner." Alva bent down to pick the bag of chips back up but you stepped in her way.
"Alva, you, me, also talk. Now," you said, pointing at the couch. "Your father might not be worried about you cooking up drugs, but I am."
Grace cleared her throat. “I uh, I better get going.”
You sighed, looking at her. “I’m so sorry about the mess. And I don’t mean the house. I mean the people in it.”
“I’ve seen messier,” she replied and offered you a smile.
Later that night, you and Leon were sitting in your bed, leaned against the headboard. Leon was brooding. You could tell by the deep wrinkle that had formed between his brows and the way he had crossed his arms in front of his naked chest.
You chuckled, scooting over to him and patting his chest, announcing that you wanted to take a seat in his lap. He sighed, his hands coming to rest on your hips and you leaned forward, smoothing out the wrinkle between his brows.
"I can see the cogs in your head turning from here. Should we debrief, agent?"
He sighed. "Our son is a harlot."
You snorted. "Should I embroider a scarlet letter onto all of his shirts?"
Leon didn't laugh. "He'll knock up the entire college campus. I know what he's like."
"Don't be ridiculous," you whispered, pressing a kiss to his forehead. He leaned back, raising an eyebrow at you. "You didn’t knock up the entire college campus when you were his age."
“Because I was head over heels in love with you. And I did knock you up. We have a ballet dancer to show for it.”
You shrugged. “You can’t control what he does, Leon. You’ll have to trust him to make his own decisions.”
Leon blew out a heavy breath, letting his head fall against the headboard. “That’s not as reassuring as you intended it to be.”
"My turn," you said, gently grasping his chin and forcing him to look at you. "Our middle daughter cooked up some kind of performance-enhancing stimulant in the college chemistry lab on her lunch break."
Leon pursed his lips. "That's honestly impressive."
"And dangerous," you added.
"If she ever mentions a company working in pharmaceuticals taking on interns, we're chaining her up in our basement. You have to promise me."
You bit back a laugh. "Deal. Although, with her, she'll probably develop some kind of highly effective acid that can eat its way through metal, activated by her own spit."
Leon sighed. "What are we doing about our first-born?"
“I worry about her the most,” you whispered. “She’s exactly like you.”
"I fear the injury might break her. On top of the whole girlfriend cheating on her thing,” Leon murmured, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Why is she so angry at Grace? Did something happen?”
You gnawed on your lower lip. “She thinks you’ve replaced her. You didn’t take an interest in her life because you were too busy talking about Grace.”
Leon swallowed. "I was only talking about her so much because I wanted to take Lottie's mind off the break-up."
You gently stroked his cheek. "I know."
"She's my daughter, no one can replace her. But Grace and I we—" he broke off, the memories of Raccoon City coming back, you could see it from the way his throat bobbed.
You pressed a kiss to his lips, kissing it better and he relaxed a little. “I know. But Lottie doesn’t. Not all of it. You only got better at sharing with me, not with everybody else.”
Leon's eyes fluttered shut and he leaned into your touch like he had been starving for it all day.
“Lottie could use a friend right now,” you whispered. “They’re around the same age. Take your daughters out, do something fun.”
Leon chuckled. “Which ones? We have about ten.”
You playfully smacked his chest. “You know which ones.”
He smiled but it didn't last long. "I worry about June too."
"Of course, she's your baby," you whispered, nuzzling the crook of his neck. Leon always felt especially protective over the most vulnerable. And right now, in your family, that was Juniper.
“She's so tiny,” Leon said. “I don't like the way Ollie is scaring her all the time. He enjoys it a little too much.”
"If you want to teach him a lesson, go for it. We're on the same page there. I trust you."
"We’re a great team," Leon whispered, running a hand over your head. "Look at us scheming."
You leaned in and pulled his lips into another kiss. "Let's hope our scheming works."
June's sixth birthday was fast approaching and so far your and Leon's scheming hadn't shown any satisfying results. Lottie and Grace had been hanging out a couple times. They went from being hostile toward each other to being almost friendly.
Then from one day to the next, after a movie night at Grace’s place, they started ignoring each other pretty much. Whenever Grace was at your house, Lottie barely interacted with her, making sure not to look at her even. It was very weird.
“Mom, what’s the spice in this? The one that I hate?” Ollie asked, pointing at the pot roast you had on the stove, while him and Alva set the table.
Those two on the other hand had made some progress. Alva was tutoring her older brother, much to his dismay. But you may have bribed him a little with telling him he could drive the brand new Porsche every once in a while.
You wrinkled your forehead. “Which one? Juniper?”
“Oh my god, June,” Ollie gasped, whipping around to your youngest daughter who was carrying a whole bunch of spoons to help. You didn’t want any bad blood at her actual birthday party, so you organised a pre-birthday dinner just for you and the kids, without Grace.
“What?” June whispered, eyes wide, staring at him.
“Mom is going to put you in the soup!” Ollie cried out in fake shock.
June let go of the spoons, all of them clattering to the floor and ran off to hide under the kitchen table. Ollie laughed at her, shaking his head.
You let your arms sink down and stared at your son, face blank. Ollie flashed you his brightest smile, no doubt the same one that had gotten him out of trouble at college with all the girls he was juggling. Too bad for him that this wasn’t college.
Leon’s hand shot forward and he pulled his son to him by the back of his shirt. Ollie hissed like a cat and instinctively pulled up his shoulders.
“What did I tell you about bullying your baby sister?” Leon growled, accentuating every single word.
“It was a joke, I didn’t mean it,” Ollie tried to bargain but Leon wasn’t having any of it.
You didn’t intervene. Ollie had it coming for a while. You had raised him better than to be a little shit like this.
“What’s oh so funny to you, is her bully living with her to her, confusing her about how people who love her treat her. Especially men,” Leon hissed. “Do you understand?”
Ollie squeezed his eyes shut. “Yes, I understand. I'm sorry.”
“Don't tell me that,” Leon said and let go, shooting a meaningful look at two little hands clamped around one of the legs of the kitchen table.
“Okay, okay, I’ll apologize,” Ollie whispered and crouched down under the table cloth. “Hey, Juniper? June-bug?”
“Thank you,” you mouthed and Leon ran a gentle hand over your waist in passing as he picked up the spoons June had dropped.
“Where’s Lottie?” he asked. “I haven't seen her all day.”
“She’s barely left her room,” you whispered, smoothing out the wrinkle on your husband's forehead that had appeared at your words. “I’ll go get her.”
You walked up to your oldest daughter’s bedroom. If she was depressed and had spent the whole day in bed, you didn’t blame her. It must suck to see all your goals crumble like that because of a stupid injury and catch the love of your life cheating on you on the same day.
You softly knocked on the door. No answer from inside. “Lottie? We’re having dinner soon. I would really like you to eat something,” you said.
Nothing. No movement inside, no sound.
You sighed, opening the door slowly to peer inside, expecting to see your daughter lying in her bed, but you didn’t see her anywhere. “Lottie, are you there?”
You gasped. “Oh my god.”
You didn’t see Lottie. You saw Grace, upper body sprawled out on your daughter's bed, hips dragged to the edge of the mattress. Lottie was kneeling on the floor in front of the bed, back turned to you and Grace's legs thrown over her shoulders.
You pulled the door shut, clamping your hand over your mouth. That image was branded into your brain.
“Oh my god mom, holy shit,” Lottie called from inside. “Get out.”
“I’m sorry,” you called back.
Lottie really was exactly like Leon. You shuddered. Some things you just never wanted to find out about your grown children. What they were doing in bed was at the top of that list.
But with the image being so vivid and your mom brain being on autopilot, you couldn’t help but notice something else. You banged your fist against the door. “Lottie, you’re not supposed to move your ankle like that. You’re also not supposed to take your boot off yet.”
“Mom,” she shrieked from inside. “Please, just leave.”
“Listen, I don’t care what you’re doing in there but I do care about your bones healing properly.” 100% exactly like her father. You took a step away from the door, only to turn back one last time. “And lock the door, June is six.”
You blinked and walked into the kitchen.
Leon was holding a bunch of plates. “So?”
“What?” you stared at him.
He raised his eyebrows at you. “Is Lottie coming down for dinner?”
You cleared your throat, running a hand over the edge of the table, thinking. Leon would not take this very well. Absolutely not. “Alva, can you put down another plate?”
“What?” Alva looked at you, confused. “Why? Who’s coming?”
“Maybe Grace?” you said.
“We didn’t invite Grace because Lottie hates her.” Leon shot you a quizzical look.
You opened your mouth, narrowing your eyes on your husband. Maybe a bit of gentle preparation would be in order. So he wouldn't be too overwhelmed when he found out. “I don’t think she hates her. I mean, maybe she still does a little bit, I don’t know but that’s none of my business.”
Did he need to find out even? Maybe they weren't all that serious. Besides, it wasn't really your place to get involved like that. Your daughter was old enough. As was Grace.
But Leon was your husband. And he felt very paternal toward Grace. What if Lottie was using Grace as a rebound to get over her ex-girlfriend?
Oh, he would absolutely freak out.
“What?” Leon wrinkled his forehead. “They ignore each other at the best of times. Which annoys me because they’re both like my daughters. I mean, Lottie is my daughter, but Grace is kinda part of this family too at this point.”
Alva stared at you, observing. You tapped a finger on the table cloth, desperately trying to buy some time.
“Trust me on this,” you said, crinkling your nose. “Call it maternal intuition.”
“You’re not making any sense,” Leon said, shaking his head, but he grabbed another plate from the kitchen cabinet regardless. “But whatever, if they can get to treating each other like sisters at some point that would be the dream, right? That means our scheming worked.”
You flinched a little at Leon calling them sisters and passed it off as rubbing your nose. This was exactly what you were worried about Leon seeing them as.
Alva was still staring, squinting her eyes ever so slightly.
Warnings: smuttt, crying babies, parenthood, everybody's favourite family <3
Summary: You and Leon think it's safe to let loose during sex after you spent the day at the pool, getting all of your kids' energy out. Little do you know your 3-year-old, Ollie, has his own interpretation of the noise he hears.
a/n: So this is actually a combination of a bunch of requests I'm realising. Because in order for Ollie to be old enough to be able to speak, that would also coincide with the time reader and Leon were trying for baby Alva. Also the pool thing fit, but that was Mermaids. Either way, based on this request and can be read as a spin-off to my Cooperative Parenting series.
ENJOY xx
Special shoutout to my dealer @mrswinterbarnes for sharing some fantastic nsfw aeon artwork by @ariespsyche with me that inspired the smut in this. Good fics are a community effort guys!
word count: 2.1k
Masterlist, Sequel
“Oh my god,” Leon moaned, as he pushed into you in this new position. “Oh fuck.”
You cried out his name, holding on to his thigh and his biceps for dear life. “Oh fuck yes, ah—”
The kids had been getting their energy out at the pool all day and were out cold. There was no way anyone in this house would wake up before tomorrow morning, no matter what they heard. So you and Leon were going at it like you’d never get the chance again. In fairness, with two young kids, this was an opportunity that didn't present itself very often. It was too good to pass up.
The soundscape of your bedroom was absolutely obscene. Between skin slapping, panting and loud moans, you had lost your entire sense of self, completely melting into the pleasure Leon was causing you.
You whimpered, as you felt your inner walls clench around him.
“Look at yourself baby,” Leon panted. “You look so fucking pretty.”
You opened your eyes, watching your and Leon’s reflection in the mirror across from your bed. It was hot as hell. You with your head hanging over the edge of the mattress, legs spread wide for Leon to thrust into you and rub your clit at the same time. His handsome face was somewhere between agony and pure bliss, mouth agape, brows knitted together and both of your bodies were covered in a sheen glint of sweat.
You looked absolutely delicious.
“Oh my god,” you moaned, your breath being cut off by Leon slamming into you to the hilt. “Yes, Leon, harder. Oh fuck yes, just like that. Oh fuck.” You cried out again as he did as he was told. He tended to do that when he was balls deep inside you.
Your body was moving further off the mattress, skin slapping against skin becoming even louder as your sex god of a husband pounded into you, setting your every nerve ending on fire, a strangled moan falling from his lips.
You wanted to tell him how good he was fucking you, you really did, but you had lost all speech, you feared. The only thing coming over your lips were uncontrollable moans and screams of pleasure.
Leon whimpered when you clenched down on him again. “Fuck yes, oh just like that, cum for me baby, I love you so much.”
He was so close too, he was trying to drag it out a little longer, so you could have an orgasm so intense it would shake your entire body but he was having an increasingly hard time. You could tell from the way he was gritting his teeth and the strangled noises slipping past his lips. It was music to your ears.
You had married the best man in the entire world. The most generous, sexy, thoughtful, absolute porn star of a man.
“Oh fuck, oh my god, Leon,” you cried out, your fingernails digging into his skin as you came hard enough for your soul to leave your body. The sounds that were coming out of you were worthy of an exorcist. But god was nowhere near you right now, this was all Leon.
He loved how loud and completely helpless to your own climax you were. You could tell. Because his thrusts became sloppy, as he spilled into you with low, guttural grunts, all elegance lost to the intensity of your orgasms.
This was glorious. You rarely had the chance to completely let loose like that and boy had you made the most of it.
When you were finally done, Leon gently pulled you back onto the mattress so you could come down without your head hanging off the bed. How thoughtful. How orgasmic. How absolutely perfect.
“I love you,” you panted, lying next to him, both of you wondering if you had died and were in heaven.
“Yeah, I could tell,” Leon said, breathlessly, a smile playing on his lips. “I’d say you really like me a lot.”
“I do,” you confirmed, pulling him in for a passionate kiss.
“Do you think that got you pregnant?” he asked, still trying to catch his breath, gently placing a hand on your lower belly.
You smiled against his lips. You were trying for a baby. For the first time, funnily enough. This wasn't your first child. You already had two kids but both of them had been unplanned. As much as you loved your surprise babies, you wanted another chance to do it right, tracking your cycle and everything.
You had already been at it for the past several months but there was no second line to be seen on the pregnancy test yet. It was like a cosmic joke. Your reproductive systems apparently only cooperated when you were in fact not actively trying to conceive.
“I don’t know. Maybe we should try again in a bit, just to be sure?”
Leon chuckled. “Give me a couple minutes and I would love to—”
A distraught cry made your heart clench.
“Mama,” a child's voice sounded from across the hallway.
“Oh shit, that’s Ollie,” you whispered, immediately shifting out of sex goddess and into mom mode.
Your youngest was screaming like a banshee, only stopping to hiccup as he was catching the breath he so desperately needed to continue his assault on your ears.
Before you even got up from the bed, Leon had already pulled on a pair of boxers and rushed out the bedroom door.
You took one last deep breath to fully arrive on this plane of existence and shrugged into your robe. Ollie would no doubt stop screaming once Leon appeared in his bedroom door, chasing the monster under his bed away.
But Ollie did not stop. He only screamed louder and more frantically.
“Not you,” he shrieked and you tied the belt around your midsection, rushing down the hallway.
Ollie was completely fixated on you. Ever since he had been born, he was a real momma’s boy. You had also breastfed him for longer than usual because he had a hard time letting you go. But that was okay. If your baby needed you more, then he needed you more. You weren't on other people's timelines. Just like with getting pregnant. This was your family, everything would come together in its own time.
However, Ollie had never full-on rejected Leon like that before.
“Ollie, what’s up? Hey, buddy, it’s okay, I’m here,” Leon cooed softly, trying to pick his son up and calm him down, as he was sobbing and thrashing.
In his distraught state, Ollie sent a forceful kick straight to Leon's jaw. Leon winced, squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath, before backing off and leaving his son to his tantrum.
“Where’s mommy?” Ollie shrieked, hot tears streaming down his face.
“I’m here, baby,” you said softly, crouching down next to his bed. Ollie frantically freed himself from the duvet and flung himself into your arms.
You cradled him against your chest, his face buried in your neck. “Ollie, hey, shhh,” you shushed him, gently stroking his soft curls. “Did you have a bad dream?”
Ollie gurgled and sobbed against the skin on your neck, barely able to compose himself. “No, he was hitting you. Why was daddy hitting you?”
“Your dad wasn’t hitting me, Ollie,” you whispered, pressing a kiss to his head. “You had a bad dream.”
“No, I heard it, you were screaming and he was hitting you,” Ollie insisted, hiccupping again. He was so stressed, his little body was shaking.
Leon’s wide eyes found yours. “Oh no.”
“Uh…” You paused, not quite sure what to say, as your cheeks turned hot, looking at Leon for help.
Leon shook his head, just as lost as you were. He opened his mouth to say something, stopped, closed it again.
Your son was three. He had no idea what was going on. Neither did you want him to. You were mortified that he had heard what you and Leon had been up to. No kid should ever have to hear that.
“Ollie,” Leon said softly, scooting over to you and his son.
Ollie shrieked again, his voice breaking into a sob. “Make him go away.”
Leon looked like he had been slapped across the face.
You softly rocked your son from side to side. You had an idea.
“Leon, can you get his sippy cup?” you whispered and Leon already pushed himself off the floor, disappearing into the kitchen.
“Ollie, I’m okay,” you whispered, taking a deep breath in, your chest expanding against your son's body. After a couple of breaths like that, Ollie started to regulate his breathing too, his crying becoming less frantic. You pressed your cheek against his, repeating the motion.
Leon appeared in the door with Ollie’s cup, handing it to you from a safe distance.
You took the cup from him, offering it to your son. He wordlessly took it into his hands, drinking from it.
If they’re having a tantrum, just add water. Old mom trick from Rhonda. That could be for drinking, gently washing their hands—just add water in some way, shape or form.
Back when Lottie had been going through her terrible twos, Rhonda had seen you completely overwhelmed and struggling to keep it together. You had tried everything but nothing would work and it was getting increasingly harder not to snap when the devil seemed to have taken over your child at every meltdown. Sensory reset. For the both of you. It was so simple sometimes.
Ollie swallowed and you smiled, running a gentle hand over his head again.
“I’m okay, Ollie. Your dad didn’t do anything I didn’t want him to do,” you said.
“It sounded really bad,” he sniffled, blinking, tears streaking his chubby cheeks.
You wiped the tears away from the soft skin. “You weren’t supposed to hear that, baby. We’re very sorry. That was grown-up stuff.”
“Do you promise?” Ollie looked at you, face all red and puffy.
You nodded. “I promise. Your father and I love each other very much, we would never hurt each other.”
Ollie wrinkled his forehead, shooting an angry glance at Leon. “Do you promise?”
Leon put a hand over his heart, crouching down behind you. “I promise. I love your mom. More than anything.”
Ollie sniffled again. “Good. Because she’s my mom.”
Leon chuckled, nodding. “I know.”
“Ollie, I’m also your sister’s mom,” you said, smiling softly at his possessiveness. “And I’m your dad’s wife. We all belong together. It’s important to me that you know that, okay?”
Ollie nodded hesitantly, throwing his head down onto your shoulder again, gripping you a little tighter. “Can I sleep in your bed?”
You chuckled, being very familiar with his shtick. “Try and sleep in your own bed, okay? We won’t wake you up again.”
“I don’t want to,” he said immediately, voice quivering, threatening to start screaming the house down all over again.
“You need to sleep in your own bed sometimes. Like your sister does. You’re a big boy now.”
“Daddy’s bigger than me. He sleeps in your bed every night.”
You chuckled. “That’s different.”
Leon pressed a kiss to your cheek. “You know, he kind of has a point.”
“We’re supposed to be on the same page, Leon,” you hissed.
“I know,” he said, offering his hand to his son. “I would never hurt your mom, Ollie. Never.”
Ollie gave Leon a tired high-five. “Okay.”
“How about your mom stays here with you until you’re asleep? Does that sound good?”
Ollie nodded and you lifted him up and into his bed. Leon leaned forward and pulled the duvet over his son’s shoulders.
Ollie made a grabby gesture and you took his hand, sitting by his bedside.
Leon tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his lips finding your temple and lingering for a little too long. “He won’t remember this when he gets older, right?”
You shrugged. “I honestly don’t know. I hope not.”
“I’ll go check on Lottie,” Leon whispered. “And when you come back to bed I have plans for you.”
“Quiet plans,” you reminded him.
“Oh very quiet, you’ll see,” he murmured, pulling you in for a kiss on the lips, sending tingling sensations all over your body.
You gasped.
“Leon,” you yelled, jumping up and rushing to the bathroom door.
“What?” Leon called back, stepping into the hallway and freezing when he saw what you were holding in your hand.
“Is it …?”
You nodded.
He rushed toward you, taking the pregnancy test from your hands. The second line was pale still, because you were only supposed to get your period that day, but it was definitely there.
“Oh my god, you’re pregnant,” Leon whispered, his face lighting up.
“We’re having another baby.” You couldn’t stop the wide smile appearing on your face.
Leon pulled you closer to him, resting his forehead against yours. He gently placed his hands on your lower belly, caressing your skin with his thumbs. Your eyes fluttered shut, a happy sigh escaping you at the thought of the next eight months.
“Boy or girl, what do you think?”
You chuckled. “Leon, I have no idea. There’s no way to tell.”
He captured your lips in a gentle kiss. “We actually planned this one, start to finish.” He sounded so proud.
You nodded. “Shocking, I know.”
“Took us a while, though.” He whispered, gaze falling down to your still flat belly. Not for much longer. You would be able to show off your baby bump in no time and you couldn't wait.
“I didn’t hear you complaining,” you teased him, nudging your nose against his.
He chuckled. “This is our last pregnancy. We have to enjoy this and take so many pictures. Maybe go on one of those babymoon things or whatever they’re called.”
You nodded again. “This is the last time we’ll do this. Our last baby.” Why did you feel a little teary-eyed all of a sudden? Hormones weren’t supposed to spike this early on.
“It feels so weird not to be surprised with it,” Leon said. “I had time to look forward to finding out.”
“I’m so excited,” you replied. “I can’t wait to see what Lottie and Ollie are going to say.”
Leon's gaze trailed down and he bit back a laugh. “Do you want to pull up your pants before we tell them, though?”
“Oh,” you exclaimed, reaching down.
a/n: experts will know this was of course not their last baby. surprise, bitches as per Cooperative Parenting - Epilogue
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Warnings: fluff, married!Leon, whiny Leon, needy Leon, established relationship, tiddies <3
Summary: Leon Kennedy has seen it all: broken bones, las Plagas, gunshot wounds ... but nothing, nothing is worse than the common cold.
a/n: I had a cold recently and I wondered who would be whinier, me or Leon? So I wrote this. I feel like this could be any version of Leon, but I had RE9 Leon in mind because it's the funniest. Special shoutout to @regionaldoubloon <3
Masterlist
word count: 900
The chicken noodle soup was bubbling on the stove and the house was quiet. Too quiet.
Another cough from the bedroom, followed by a pained groan.
Ah, yes. Poor Leon was suffering unimaginable torture.
You rolled your eyes, put the lid on the pot and reduced the heat down to a simmer.
"Baby?" His voice was pathetically thin as he called for you from your bedroom. "Baby, can you come here?"
"In a minute, honey," you yelled back, grabbing a bottle of Tylenol and the other remedies you had gathered to nurse your husband back to health. The same husband that had lived through cracked ribs, several other broken bones and unfathomable horrors multiple times, but for some reason the common cold was what made him want to write his testament.
"Nurse is here," you announced yourself as you walked into the room. The curtains were drawn and Leon was sprawled out on the bed, arm theatrically draped over his eyes. "Do you need me to call the priest?"
"Not yet," he croaked, breaking into a coughing fit.
You sat down on the edge of the bed. "Oh my poor baby," you crooned, gently brushing a sweaty strand of hair out of his face. Leon closed his eyes and leaned into your touch like a stray kitten. “How are you feeling?”
“Terrible,” he whined, sniffling. “I’m all congested, I have a headache, I can’t sleep because I’m coughing so much…”
“I made you chicken noodle soup,” you said.
“Thank you,” he whispered, reaching for you but you leaned back.
“Leon, no. I can’t get sick, too. One of us has to keep this house running,” you said, firmly brushing his hands off your body. He whined again.
“So you’re really going to let me die without a kiss, huh? Wow.”
You chuckled. “You know, for being a tough government agent, you’re being a little bit dramatic right now.”
He groaned, a cough racking through his body again. “That’s just not true,” he insisted, his hands wandering again, slipping under your shirt.
“Leon,” you warned him, opening the bottle of Tylenol. “Here, take these.”
He obliged and you pressed a chaste kiss to his forehead. “Good boy.”
He chuckled and his hands immediately found your breasts, softly squeezing them. “You know, I think it’s actually very beneficial for my recovery to receive a kiss at least every five minutes. And body heat is also very important.”
You tried to lean away from him to prepare what you actually came here for, but no matter how whiny, he was a trained agent with great reflexes after all. Before you could react, he pulled up your shirt and slipped his head under it, burying his face in your chest.
“I thought you had a hard time breathing?” you asked, gently rubbing his shoulders.
“It’s already getting better,” he murmured, his voice muffled by your boobs. You sighed and he pulled your bra down, gently slipping one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking on it.
“Oh my god, you’re just like your son.” You let out a defeated breath. “Only that your son is barely two years old.”
Leon let out a content sigh, as he kept sucking and kneaded your other breast with his free hand. “It’s actually also medically proven that sucking on boobies can help recover from any kind of illness.”
“Leon, stop. That’s for babies. You’re a grown man.”
“So?” he murmured, demonstratively coughing again, looking at you with puppy eyes. He knew full well those were your weakness. Jesus Christ, that man was impossible.
You pushed him off you.
“Here, open wide big boy,” you said, offering him a spoon with an entire clove of garlic covered in honey on it.
“Why do you always have to come in with your witchy shit? Why can’t we just be normal, take a Tylenol and call it a day?” He eyed the spoon in front of him and hissed like a cat.
“Oh?” your eyebrows shot up. “Look who’s already feeling better and obviously doesn’t need any tiddy time. Well in that case…” You faked getting up from the edge of the bed and Leon’s hand shot forward, snatching the spoon from you and pushing it into his mouth.
He grimaced as he chewed. “Happy now?”
“Not quite.” You handed him a glass full of cloudy yellow liquid. “Turmeric ginger shot. It’s good for you.”
He looked at you like you were about to betray him, then knocked back the drink in one go. He shuddered, sticking out his tongue.
“Oh come on,” you mocked him. “Leon shooting-whiskey-like-it’s-nothing Kennedy can’t handle a ginger shot? Are you sure you’re my husband?”
“Don’t ever question that, I love you,” he said, pressing his face back against your chest. “Thank you for taking care of me. You’re my favourite nurse.”
“And you’re my least favourite patient,” you said, not getting very far because Leon pulled you into bed with him.
“Leon,” you yelped, as he moved down, pushed your shirt up and cuddled up to your chest.
“I’m already feeling much better, you know.”
You huffed. “I have to get up to take the chicken soup off the heat.”
Leon shook his head, nuzzling your tits. “No, you don’t.”
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Summary: You find out you're pregnant—the night before Leon leaves for Raccoon City in September 1998.
a/n: Based on this poll. Can be read as a prequel to my Cooperative Parenting series, or on its own.
word count: 2.6k
Masterlist
You and Leon were broke. That was what had gotten you into this whole mess in the first place. Between you, a college drop out turned waitress, and Leon, a wide-eyed police academy recruit, your funds were limited.
Which was why, after you realised the pill gave you migraines and anxiety from hell, you asked planned parenthood to cover the cost for an IUD. They agreed. And put you on a long-ass waitlist.
“Fuck.” You sighed in resignation, staring at the two pink lines glaring back at you.
Not only were you and Leon too broke for this, you were also too young. You had just celebrated his twenty-first birthday last month. How the hell were you going to take care of another human?
You shook the white plastic strip, as if that would magically shake the second line off it. That motherfucker stayed and you wanted to curl up into a ball and disappear off the face of the earth.
This was so stupid too.
What you lacked in funds, Leon and you made up for in pure horniness. If you could stop fucking for five minutes, maybe you wouldn’t be in this mess. So when you ran out of condoms, “we shouldn’t” turned into “just the tip”, which turned into “I’ll pull out”.
It was a calculated risk. You had already gotten your appointment for the IUD insertion, finally having moved up on the waitlist. Nothing would happen in that short amount of time, right? It was fine.
It would have been fine if ‘once’ hadn’t turned into ‘twice’, and ‘twice’ hadn’t turned into—you lost count.
So here you were, white knuckling the sink, eyes squeezed shut, realising that ‘calculated risk’ had turned into ‘baby’.
A real, complete baby that you were going to grow inside your body, getting stared at because you still looked like an infant yourself. You were also going to push it out of you. Probably getting stared at then too, by medical staff. And Leon.
When the baby was there, people would stare at you some more, as you pushed the stroller, breastfed in public and had a meltdown because you wouldn’t be able to stop your baby from crying. Ever.
You wouldn’t sleep. Neither would Leon. You two would fall out of love and never speak to each other again. Except about who would get to do Christmas that year.
You rubbed your eyes. Maybe you were getting ahead of yourself a little bit. You tossed the test into the bin, watching the metal lid bite down and swallow it, never to be seen again.
“So?” Leon asked, watching you come out of the bathroom, fidgeting with the remote control.
You froze. The timing was terrible too.
“Negative,” you lied, clearing your throat, sinking down on the couch next to him, shoving your hands under your thighs to hide that they were shaking.
Leon let out a long breath. “Thank fuck.”
You nodded, pressing your lips together. “Now you can focus on your first day tomorrow.”
“Yeah,” Leon murmured, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I’m glad we found out though. When you told me you were late, I couldn’t think straight.”
“Me neither,” you muttered, gnawing on your lower lip. “I was really scared.”
Leon leaned in and pressed a kiss to your temple. You clung to him and let him pull you against his chest, as he sprawled out on the couch.
“Are you nervous?” you asked, drawing little patterns on his chest. You were about to have a baby with him. Holy shit.
He grimaced. “Maybe? I don’t know. I haven’t really heard from them since last week.”
“It’ll be fine,” you whispered, pressing a kiss to his Adam’s apple. “You graduated as valedictorian. That means you’re the best.”
Leon looked at you with utter reverence in his eyes. “No, I’m not.”
Your breath hitched in your throat as he gently cupped your cheeks and pulled you into an unrushed kiss.
“My girlfriend is the best,” he whispered against your lips, nudging your nose with his. “And I’m about to leave her for my first real job. I haven’t even left and I already miss you.”
You chuckled.
Your pregnant girlfriend, my guy. But you don’t know that yet. Because if you knew, you’d be a nervous wreck and late as hell on your first day.
“You’re always so dramatic,” you murmured, returning the kiss. “What do you think will happen? You get there and the world has somehow ended and all the police officers have turned into zombies?”
He snorted, rolling his eyes. “Can you be serious for one second of your life?”
“I was a theatre major,” you said, looking at him deadpan. “I am literally unable to. Unless you want me to act, then I could play someone who is a serious person.”
Or, you know, somebody who’s not pregnant.
“No, I like you for you,” he whispered, casually squeezing the soft flesh on your hips. That same flesh that would probably get a lot softer once you were progressing in your pregnancy.
You smiled, but it didn’t reach your eyes. This wasn’t even lying by omission. This was full on lying. About a pretty important thing.
But you would tell him when he came back next weekend. You just didn’t want to sabotage his start with the RPD. He had been so excited to be assigned with them specifically. You didn’t want to ruin it for him.
“Maybe my nervousness was more about you being late than about tomorrow,” he mused. “My thoughts were racing all day. I mean, can you imagine having a baby right now?”
You swallowed, your heart stumbling into a sprint. “Why? What would it be like?” you choked out.
“An absolute nightmare?” Leon wrinkled his forehead. “We’re way too young, you just dropped out of college, I’m starting my first job. There’s really no worse time to have a baby.”
You felt sick to your stomach. Because you agreed. “But would you want a baby? With me, I mean?” you whispered, voice shaky.
“I don’t know. I haven’t thought about it like that.” He paused. “It’s just not something I’m considering right now.
You nodded, feeling like your insides had been turned inside out. “But if you had to? Would you be happy it was with me?” You were—obviously—off the pill. Your anxiety technically shouldn’t be spiking like that.
Leon smiled at you softly. “I mean, you’re not pregnant, right? We don’t have to think about that right now.”
“Yeah,” you breathed, letting him press a kiss to your forehead, as you stared at the TV screen but not really seeing what was going on.
Leon didn’t want a baby. Of course, why would he? He was twenty-one. Nobody your age seriously wanted a baby. Not that you had heard of anyway. Everybody prayed for the second line not to appear whenever they got into that situation. Funnily enough, the second line never appeared. For anyone. Except you.
A calculated risk, just like lying about it.
When Leon found out you had betrayed him like that, he would no doubt call it quits. Here you were, about to nail him down with a pregnancy you had kept from him. Manipulate him into staying with you. Oh, you dug yourself a hole beyond holes.
“Are you listening to me?”
“Huh?” You whipped your head around. Leon was staring at you. He knew. He felt it somehow. It was the baby daddy instinct.
“I said I’ll call you when I get there and that I have an apartment lined up to look at on Tuesday.”
“Apartment? We have an apartment,” you whispered.
“Yeah, but we’re going to have to move, right?”
You nodded. Because of the baby. The tiny one-bedroom you were currently living in was barely big enough for you and Leon. There was no way you could have a baby in here. Where would all the stuff go? The crib, the changing table, the stroller?
How would you even afford those things? You made $2.13 per hour before tips. Leon made more than that. He was now in full-time employment as a police officer on probation. But he would leave you right? After catching you in your lie? You might as well apply for food stamps right now. Single motherhood was inevitable.
“Are you tired?” he asked, puzzled. “You’re not processing anything I’m saying.”
You blinked. “The shift at the diner was crazy.”
And I’m pregnant. With your baby. That you don’t want. And I think I might be going insane.
Leon lifted you up and you squealed, holding on to his shoulders for dear life. “Leon!”
“I think it’s time to take my girlfriend to bed, what do you think?”
“Why do you call me your girlfriend all the time?” you giggled. “There’s nobody here. You can say my name.”
He looked at you amused. “But that’s your title, right? My girlfriend? Love of my life? My future wife?”
You covered your face with your hand, sneaking a glance through your fingers, but you were all giddy. “You’re so cheesy.” You stopped yourself, your face sinking. He would reconsider that once he knew about your little secret. The love of his life wouldn’t lie to him like that.
“You love it though,” he said without missing a beat, carrying you to bed, where this mess had begun in the first place.
Later that night, Leon was nuzzling the back of your neck, arms wrapped around you, one hand casually resting on your lower abdomen.
You sighed into the embrace, closing your eyes, indulging for a little bit.
If only he knew.
You would tell him straight when he came home. Maybe he would understand that you hadn’t wanted to tell him right before his first day with the RPD. Maybe, just maybe this would all be fine and you wouldn't end up as an overwhelmed single mom living below the poverty line.
“Are you sure the test was negative?” Leon whispered and your blood ran cold. “You seem…off.”
“It’s because you’re leaving,” you replied, too quickly, eyes wide open.
“Mh,” Leon sighed, arms closing around your waist a little tighter. “I’ll be back Friday.”
“I know,” you whispered. His lips ghosted over your skin and he sank deeper into the pillows, drifting off.
You couldn’t. No matter how hard you tried.
Your thoughts were racing and you kept tossing and turning beside your boyfriend.
What had you done?
Why hadn’t you just used a condom? It really wasn’t that hard. It was pretty easy actually, just not having unprotected sex when you didn’t want to be pregnant. But you did that. And now you were. Pregnant. Preggers. Up the duff.
About to be a mom. Giving birth. Raising someone. Be responsible for them. What would pregnancy be like? You felt nauseous. Was that morning sickness already?
Holy shit, the medical bills. What if you got gestational diabetes? That was a thing, right? What if something was wrong with you?
What if something was wrong with the baby?
You were in utter panic, your heart was racing so much you thought it might stop out of exhaustion at any moment.
Oh god, what if you found out you had an underlying heart condition and neither you or your baby would make it? What if you died giving birth and someone dropped the baby off at Leon's doorstep because he had already left you by then? And he only found out then and there that you never told him before his first day with the RPD?
“Leon,” you whispered, having no idea how long you had been imprisoned by your own thoughts.
Leon was fast asleep, face pressed into the pillows, arms sprawled out up and to the sides. What if your baby slept like that? Wasn’t that dangerous for them?
But babies needed tummy time, right? Occasionally?
You had absolutely no idea what you were doing. You were utterly unqualified for this new job.
“Leon,” you hissed, poking him and he stirred, groaning.
“What?” he murmured, voice thick with sleep.
“Leon, I lied to you,” you whispered, chin quivering. You had to come clean right now. He couldn't find out only when he opened the door and saw the wicker basket sitting there, a newborn baby inside.
He cracked one eye open, lifting his head to glance at the alarm clock on the nightstand, the digital numbers on it flashing green in the dark. “It’s three in the morning.”
You nodded. “I know,” you whined, cuddling up into his side. He instinctively closed his arms around you and tucked your head under his chin.
“Is this the worm thing again?” he murmured, still half asleep. “Yes, I would still love you. Go back to sleep.”
You shook your head. “No, it’s not the worm thing. It’s way worse.”
“It’s so bad that it can’t wait until tomorrow?” he asked, a slight chuckle making his chest vibrate.
“Kinda,” you whimpered, scrambling for words. “Would you still love me if I was pregnant but kept it from you because I didn’t want to sabotage your first day tomorrow?”
“Yes, I would still love you if you were pregnant,” he murmured, eyes closed again.
“Because I am. I’m pregnant. The test was positive.” You stilled, anxiously waiting for his response, your blood rushing in your ears.
“You’re pregnant? That’s great,” he slurred, already drifting off again.
He went rigid, arm flying out to his side, switching on the light on the nightstand. “What?”
You drew in a shaky breath.
He glanced at the alarm clock. “It’s fucking three in the morning,” he whined.
You sat up, looking at him. “I’m pregnant. The test wasn’t negative. I told you it was because I didn’t want to worry you.”
He blinked. “So you chose the middle of the night to tell me instead?”
“I panicked,” you mumbled, kneading your hands in your lap.
Leon stared at you.
“Say something,” you whined.
“You’re pregnant?” His gaze dropped to your stomach. “Like for real? With a baby?”
You nodded.
He ran a hand over his face. “Oh my god. You’re not kidding.”
You shook your head. “I wish I was.”
Leon’s eyes wandered from side to side as he was mulling it over in his head. No doubt already thinking about leaving you for keeping this from him. He buried his face in his hands and blew out a heavy breath. “Oh my god, I’m freaking out.”
“Me too,” you whispered, on the verge of tears, watching him.
“I..I don’t– I–” he stammered, voice breaking. “Oh fuck, I’m gonna need to make so much money, I–”
You shook your head and reached for him but he shrugged your hands off.
You winced at the rejection.
“I mean, are we keeping it?” he asked, turning his head to you, eyes wide with panic.
You stared back with just as much fear written on your face. “I don’t know. Do you want to keep it?”
“I don’t know. Do you?” He grabbed your hands, covering them with his. “How do you feel about it?”
“I don’t want to do this without you,” you whispered, your voice breaking into a sob.
Leon pulled you against his chest, a hand coming to rest on the back of your head. You held on to his neck, burying your face in his shoulder, hot tears falling from your eyes.
“You won’t,” he said. “I’d still love you if you were a worm, right?”
“But I’m not a worm, Leon. I’m pregnant,” you whimpered, another sob racking through you.
Leon sighed. “Listen, you lied to me all day about the test being negative and now you tell me in the middle of the night before my first day at my first job. And I still love you.”
You sobbed harder. “I had a plan. And that’s not a very nice thing to say.”
