Physical Perfection

by

RobertCop3

This is a fic idea that came to me while chatting with an upstanding citizen named Gomikubi in my Discord group. He showed me a beautiful piece of Fire Emblem Three Houses fan art drawn by the very talented futomomomoe (who can be found on numerous platforms, including Twitter), which involved Byleth and Edelgard scissoring each other. Also involved was a discussion about how there are many talented artists in fandoms like Fire Emblem or King of Fighters, but the characters are usually drawn with flawless skin. It was very refreshing to me to see someone draw two very beautiful ladies in the throes of passion, but with prominent physical scars all over their bodies, as you would expect from people who are fighters.

I was awed by this pic, and it inspired me to write a fic for the KoF fandom. I went with Iori and Leona because I love this pairing, and also, because they would both have hella scars (as my friend Illyrilex would say), given what they do and also who they are.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy. And as always, feedback is welcome

All characters are the property of SNK/Playmore. I don't own them or the video games.


Tokyo, Japan

Although New York was graced with the popular nickname, some could argue that any major metropolitan hub in any part of the world was never truly asleep. But at midnight in the winter, even the capital of Japan was mostly dead. Which was just how the black-clad figure sneaking over the rooftops liked it.

Leona Heidern moved without making a sound, leaving no betraying signs except small clouds of mist with each exhalation of her warm breath in the chill night air, but this dissipated quickly, too quickly for anyone who might be watching to tell she'd just been there. She utilized the shadows to their utmost, calling upon all her training, all her control, everything she'd spent the last half of her life honing since she'd been adopted by the man whose name she'd taken. Even though her mission had been a success, and the warehouse suspected of containing NESTS hardware was currently in flames, Leona still wanted to get back to her hotel without being seen.

You still can't let your guard down. Not until you're in a place where you know you're safe. Then and only then can the mission be considered a success. Leona pitched forward into a roll over an exposed area of the roof she was currently on, then sprang to her feet and sprinted towards the roof's edge, her body bent at the waist to build momentum. She leapt the gap between buildings and managed to hit the fire escape on her feet. Without hesitating, she scurried up the stairs and continued on to her hotel, knowing she'd be safe when she got back to her room.

At least, if he's there. I sent him an encrypted e-mail before I left Brazil, telling him I'd be in town. I just hope he got it.

There was a very specific word in the e-mail's subject line that would let the recipient know it was from her, and to input the password she had given him. Even though the e-mail would go straight to his spam folder, he always liked to open the folder to skim over the subjects first, instead of just deleting the entire folder without looking, as most people would do. It was one of the many odd character traits of Iori Yagami that Leona had committed to memory over the last six months.

She still had no idea how it happened, and she still wasn't exactly sure what they were: more than friends, more than fuck-buddies, but not exactly a couple. Not in the normal sense of the word, anyway. A romantic relationship should have been the last thing a woman like Leona would want: they involved far too many elements that were beyond her control, so the logical centers of her brain told her she should have called it off long ago.

But... she didn't want to. Iori was her polar opposite: pure id, acting on instinct almost twenty-four/seven. And somehow, this only made her more attracted to him. It defied all rational thought for her. Maybe it was because Iori shared the same curse as her, the same tainted blood, could understand her in a way no one else could, not even any of the members of her unit. But for whatever reason, their relationship continued. Leona's military career and Iori's musical one both kept them too busy to ever settle down like a normal couple, but they still liked to see each other every chance they got, when they knew their work would put them in the same place at the same time.

Such as now. But Leona pushed those thoughts down, forced herself to focus as she continued her trek over the rooftops with catlike stealth. She was not yet back at her starting point, and so could not let her guard down. Finally, she had reached the roof of the hotel she was staying at, where she'd purchased a room under the alias Paula Vincent, an executive who was in town to close a deal with some investors (and her usual cover when she traveled abroad for covert missions). Leona cast a quick glance around the rooftop with her infrared goggles. Finding no human heat signatures, she opened the locked door to the staircase by slicing off the knob with a swift hand chop, and then proceeded to her floor.

Thankfully, she encountered no one else in the halls due to the late hour. She arrived at her room without incident, opened the door with her keycard, and entered, shutting the door behind her and making sure the DO NOT DISTURB sign was in place on the knob. No sooner had the door shut than she felt a presence from behind. "You're late," a familiar voice said.

Leona turned, her pulse quickening for a split second as she saw him standing there. "You made it," she said, her voice flat, stating fact. "I was worried wouldn't find the right room."

"Obviously, I did," he said.

"Obviously," Leona echoed. Any further talk was unnecessary. Leona Heidern threw herself at Iori Yagami, jumping up to wrap her legs around his waist, her arms around his upper back. Iori's own arms moved down under her rear to support her, and for a few minutes the two simply stood there and sucked face in the middle of the room. Finally, Iori began to move towards the bed, bringing the blue-haired soldier along with him.

They all but fell onto the mattress, and finally took a moment to pause in their oral clashing and come up for air. He'd already removed his shoes and socks, so Leona kicked her heavy boots off onto the floor. Then for a while, they just lay there, Leona on her back with Iori over her, their bare feet rubbing together, his flame red eyes gazing into her cold steel blue...

Iori Yagami had always liked to keep things simple, being one-hundred percent in the moment, reacting rather than thinking. Playing his music was simple. Fighting in tournaments was simple: you beat the opponent in front of you, and you moved forward, until there were either no more opponents left to beat, or one of them beat you first. His taste in steak was simple: charred on the outside, rare on the inside, seasoned only with salt and pepper.

Relationships were not simple. Well, some of them were. Until now, Iori had limited himself to one-night stands with groupies, never letting himself get attached. In fact, the only attachments he really had were his cat and his rivalry with Kyo. Those were easy for him to understand. Yet, there was something about Leona Heidern... that made Iori want to keep seeing her.

No one was more surprised than him when he'd had this realization. He'd always thought of her as too frigid, too controlling, even moreso than Chizuru. And yet... she shared the same curse as him, understood the struggle he faced every day. This was one of the reasons he'd let her in six months ago, and why even now, he always felt a tingle of excitement in his chest whenever he learned they'd be in the same place at the same time. He still didn't know just what that feeling was. All he knew was that Leona complicated his life... and he didn't want that to stop.

She reached up and caressed his cheek. Those hands that were normally lethal weapons now felt so soft against his skin. Mostly. Though he felt hard callouses on her fingertips scraping at him, Iori just found those made her more attractive. Leona was a warrior, and warriors didn't waste time pumicing their skin. They accepted the rougher aspects of their existence.

"I've missed you," Leona said softly, moving her hand from his cheek to trace one finger over his lips.

"I've missed you," Iori whispered back, and leaned in to place another kiss on her soft lips.

"I... feel like I should go get a shower first," Leona said. "Before we do anything else."

Iori leaned his head down, sniffed at her neck. There was nothing fruity or feminine about the scent that hung over her. Leona smelled of her work, an olfactory kaleidoscope of dirt and sweat, gunpowder and blood, fire and steel. The scent of a warrior. Like the callouses on her hands, it just made her more attractive.

"You don't need one," he said. "You smell fine to me. Perfect, in fact."

So unlike other men in that regard, she thought to herself. But then, he was a fighter like her. He understood what normally went on in their lives, just as he understood her curse. Once more, she found her iron-clad self-control ease back slightly in his presence. She actually allowed a faint smile to tug at the corners of her mouth, and kissed him again. Then she sat up on the bed and began to remove her gear: she tossed her infrared scope to the floor, along with her utility belt with its flashbangs, smoke canisters, incendiary grenades, and various other armaments. Usually, she wouldn't drop them on the floor, but as previously stated, she felt more at ease in his presence.

She did, however, put her earrings in their case on the nightstand, as those were the deadliest weapons in her arsenal, and the case was designed to contain the damage should one of them go off unexpectedly. She then removed her heavy black thermal-weave shirt, and the Kevlar vest she wore underneath that, revealing an olive-green tank top that exposed her midriff, and also made clear by the way her nipples could be seen poking against the fabric that she had not bothered with a bra. Judging by the look on Iori's face, he appreciated this.

After his momentary indulgence, however, he noticed that his lover's movements appeared a little stiff. He knew it was pointless to ask if her mission was a success. The fact that she'd made it back to her room alive told him the answer to that. Instead, he simply asked: "Rough job?"

Usually, she tried to keep her injuries to herself, even from Ralf or Clark, unless they were life-threatening. But instead, she gave a nod. "Yes. I am a little sore. Another reason I think I should shower first."

"I have a better idea," said Iori. He got up from the bed, walked over to the nearby couch, on which rested the small travel bag he'd packed for himself. After rummaging through it for a moment, he started back towards the bed, and as he got closer, Leona saw the bottle of massage oil in his hand.

She gave another smile of understanding and stripped off her tank top, leaving her bare from the waist up. As always, Iori felt his breath catching in his throat at the sight: the solid, well-defined muscle in her arms and her belly, toned through years of strict military discipline, and the way they contrasted with the sleek feminine curve of her midriff, and the bountiful swell of her breasts.

But even more appealing to him than that were the small scars spread out over the length of her arms, also cris-crossing her chiseled abs, and even her upper chest. Some were from knives, some from bullets, others were burns from explosions or torture implements. Raised markings that some might consider blemishes on her otherwise flawless skin. But Iori didn't see them that way. They were a part of who she was: a woman who knew and accepted the risks of her job, and still did her duty. Because fighting was her very soul, and without it, she'd be dead inside. Something else he had in common with her.

Leona continued to strip on the bed, and for a moment, Iori paused, forgetting why he'd gotten up in the first place. Instead, he simply watched with growing interest as Leona reached up into her hair, pulled out the elastic that normally kept it in a tight ponytail, and shook her head, letting her long blue tresses flow freely down her back and around her shoulders. As a woman who liked to maintain complete control in all aspects of her life, or the appearance thereof, she rarely let her hair down in front of anyone, so this sight was one that Iori was one of the privileged few to witness. She then undid her belt, and started to pull off her black camo pants, tossing them onto the floor.

She now knelt on the bed dressed only in a pair of black panties, and Iori's gaze was drawn to her sleek, yet muscular legs. In particular, he noted the scars cris-crossing Leona's toned thighs, and found his heart skipping a beat. "You're beautiful," he whispered, and then walked the rest of the way to the bed, sitting down on its edge.

Leona blushed a little at hearing that word used to describe her. Namely because it was not something she aspired towards. Being beautiful had little use in her career as a soldier, so she didn't obsess over her looks like some of the more vain fighters, such as B. Jenet or Mai Shiranui. Heck, the only reason she even shaved her legs was because being smooth made it easier to change tight clothing quickly on covert missions. And yet, hearing that complement from Iori caused an odd, warm tingle in her chest.

Back on the bed with a closer view of her, Iori noticed a narrow raised marking running lengthwise down the top of Leona's left breast, stopping an inch or two above her nipple. He smiled and traced one finger gently over the scar. "Is this a new one?" He asked her.

The blue-haired beauty gave a small, involuntary shudder at feeling Iori touch her in a place no other man had ever been allowed. "It is," she answered. "Some punk in a brothel in Nicaragua. The place was a front, I can't say for what because it's not declassified yet. Tried to surprise me with a knife, I was a little too slow when the ambush first happened. But once he was out in the open... I gave him a taste of my own blade, which was a bit more explosive. He wasn't in a condition to ambush anyone after that."

Iori chuckled a little, and then stripped off his own shirt and tossed it to the floor with Leona's discarded clothes. The Ikari warrior found her heart skipping a beat at the sight of his bare chest and arms, with wide, solid pecs and washboard abs that might even make Kyo Kusanagi jealous of him for a change. But what Leona noticed most of all were the scars spread out over Iori's body, just as they were on her own.

Moving almost by instinct, her fingers homed in on a pale, raised patch of tissue just above his right pec. Burn mark, by the look of it. "This is a new one," she said. Unlike Iori's statement, it wasn't a question.

The red-haired man nodded. "That stupid shit Kyo got lucky in our last encounter. Tagged me pretty good. Next time, I'll give him one to match mine. I'll..."

Leona leaned upwards, silenced him with a kiss. Any further thoughts Iori had of his rivalry were repressed at the warmth and softness of her lips. "Let's not discuss work anymore," she told him, her blue eyes suddenly looking brighter, less like ice and more like a summer sky.

"Right," he said with a small laugh. "Here, lie down."

Leona was eager to oblige, and soon was stretched out on her stomach on the bed. Before he began, Iori took another moment to admire the sleek lines and toned muscle of her physique, her blue hair spread out over her creamy bare back like a river. She was like no other woman he'd ever met. She was perfect.

Iori drizzled some oil into his left hand and then began to rub his palms together, using friction to warm it. He then curled his fingers around Leona's shoulders and began to knead gently in a back and forth motion, slowly applying pressure. His thumbs disappeared underneath her hair and rubbed in a circular motion at the base of her neck.

Leona did not moan aloud, but she did breathe out a sigh at feeling Iori work out the many kinks accumulated in her tired muscles over course of the mission. His touch was gentle, but also slightly rough, as his own fingers were calloused due to his career as a guitarist. But they were more soothing to her than smooth hands, speaking of a man who was devoted to his work, as she was, and didn't care about conforming to society's standards of attractiveness.

He worked her shoulders and neck for several minutes, then he drizzled some oil on the rest of her back and started to move down, palms and fingers alternating between gliding and pressing. As he worked, he found himself once more entranced: Leona's skin was silky-soft, with solid muscle rippling underneath, but every now and then his fingers would pass over the raised marking of one of her scars, a stark contrast to the soft and smooth. But their presence only made her more attractive than fighters such as that vapid airhead Mai.

His hands lingered at one scar about halfway down that ran crosswise from one side of her back to the other. She'd told him about this one, how she'd acquired it in a sparring match with Seirah, how the younger girl had offered to face Leona without weapons, but her commander would have none of that, as she truly wanted to test her abilities. Her opponent had gotten in this lash with Voodoo after Leona overreached on one of her jabs. But when she'd told that story to Iori, it had only made her more desirable in his eyes.

"Perfection," he whispered, and continued his massage. His lover was moaning aloud now, allowing herself to relax and relinquish more of that control she prided herself upon, placing herself in Iori's hands, feeling the tension melt away from her body at his ministrations.

"Feeling better?" He asked her.

Leona let another moan escape her lips. "Much," she answered, her voice a satisfied murmur. "I always feel better with you."

He smiled and spent the next few minutes working the knots out of her lower back, though the blue-haired girl couldn't help but notice his fingers drifted close to the waistband of her panties more than once. But as he continued massaging her, the hope that he would remove that last bit of clothing that separated him from her most feminine place grew stronger. Her moaning became louder, more sensual in its tone, her control slipping just a little more as a silky moisture began to build between her legs.

Iori was quick to pick up on this. Her warmth, her soft and hard texture beneath his calloused fingers, her moaning... it was becoming too much. Once more, his hands slid down her slick skin towards her panties, but this time his fingers closed around the waistband. He paused for just a moment, gauging his lover's response, and found her giving no resistance. So he pulled the garment down her long legs and tossed it to the floor, exposing her completely.

The blue-haired beauty gave a small gasp and a shudder as the cool air of the room touched against her warm, damp nether-lips. This was followed a moment later by a more heated caress, rough but gentle fingers moving up her thigh towards its apex. Leona's pulse quickened, and she shifted position onto her knees, arching her lower body and raising the swell of her tight, round buttocks, to provide him easier access.

A moment later, she emitted a louder, longer gasp as Iori's fingers found her labia, began to stroke along the outer entrance to her warm cleft. "Yes," she whispered, urging Iori onward. So he applied more pressure, the rough skin of his hand providing a wonderful contrast to the softness of his touch, which only stoked the flames of passion in her loins, caused Leona to drop her guard even more.

Her moaning filled the room now, her desire dripped more freely onto the mattress, and as her nether-lips grew more damp under his caress, Iori could feel his manhood becoming painfully hard in the confines of his red slacks. His instincts screamed for him to take her right then and there, but as he always did when they were together, Iori fought to repress that urge. Leona Heidern was not just some giggling groupie. She was a warrior, strong and proud, every bit his equal, and so he would treat her as such.

So Iori moved his fingers higher, tickling the small thatch of short blue curls on her pubic mound before moving on to stroke the rigid nub of her clit, easing it out of its fleshy hood. At the same time, he pressed his mouth to her nethers and began to lap at her with a primal hunger, his tongue teasing her outer labia.

"Yes!" Leona cried again, louder this time, gripping the sheets as Iori lashed her silky folds with his skilled tongue. She still remembered the first time he'd gone down on her. It seemed to defy all logic that someone with such a crass mouth could put it to such good use. Heck, she was surprised that Iori even wanted to taste her. But whenever they were together, he never missed a chance. Even when it was her "time of the month."

He became more aggressive, then, pinching her sensitive nub and rolling it between thumb and two fingers, while his tongue worked deeper into her. "Uuuuuh!" Her moaning became louder, filling the bedroom, urging him without words to continue, and so he gladly did, drinking deep of her most feminine place. Her sweet, tangy honey flowed more liberally now, her lower body trembled with need.

"Iori..." Leona gripped the bedsheets like a vise, moaning his name into them like a little prayer. He responded by lapping with more vigor at her aching sex, also moving his mouth to softly rake her outer labia with his teeth, knowing she liked things just a little rough. The hand not attending her clit moved up to her tight, creamy butt cheek, began to squeeze her soft flesh (though it did not give much beneath his grip, as Leona's strict exercise regimen left very little fat in her backside).

A casual observer to this meeting between two unlikely lovers would have noticed a slight tint of red appearing on the very tips of Leona's blue hair, both in her bangs and also the longer locks trailing down her back. She breathed heavily into the mattress, the occasional loud moan echoing through the room, letting her control slip away even more to the reckless abandonment of sexual pleasure. She was close, Iori's calloused hands on her butt and her sensitive clit, and the way he wielded his tongue, pushed her towards that rare moment of total impulse.

"Iori," she gasped. "I'm... it's about to happen..."

Iori said nothing, but continued to drive his tongue as deep within her as he could, his calloused fingers scraping her clit, augmenting her pleasure. A moment later, Leona Heidern was screaming into her sheets, the walls of her sex convulsing as her honey gushed out into Iori's face. The red-haired man lapped with his tongue, slurping down as much of the tangy sweetness as he could.

Though still breathing heavily, Leona was barely winded from her orgasm, and Iori felt her shift away from him on the sheets, moving into an upright kneeling position and turning to face him. He sat up as well, saw the primal hunger etched on her face, a much different sight than what most people normally saw. The red was a bit more prominent on the ends of her hair, and specks of crimson could also be seen marring the otherwise brilliant blue of her irises.

Their curse, their common blood that Iori knew only too well. Intense emotion, be it anger or pleasure, always weakened one's control, brought the demon dangerously close to the surface. But as wild as she could sometimes get during their lovemaking, Leona had never completely lost that control, always skating the edge. He trusted her with his life, and knew that tonight would be no different than any other they'd spent together.

"I need you inside of me," Leona whispered in a tone that sounded less like a request. But Iori was not one to deny her anything. His pants and his boxers quickly joined the heap of clothing on the floor, after which Leona grabbed him and flung him onto his back on the mattress, though his rigid manhood stood straight up at attention.

The blue-haired woman ran her hand lightly up and down Iori's shaft, the contrast of hard, scraping callouses on her fingertips combined with the warm softness of her palm sending shivers down his spine, augmenting his pleasure just as his own rough fingers on her clit had done.

His moaning became more guttural as Leona gripped the base of his erection, and then took him into her mouth. Her movements were precise, controlled, in how her lips slid up and down his length, occasionally teasing with her tongue. But at the same time, there was a recklessness to it, a surrender of her iron will. Almost as if she was going down on him because she wanted to, but she also handled it like a "mission." A mission to get him off. And the way that just fit her to a T was surprisingly arousing.

Leona began to lightly stroke his base with her hand as she sucked him a little harder, pausing every now and then to tease his tip with her tongue. As wonderful as it felt, Iori's gaze couldn't help but once more roam her body. One hand gripped her blue and also slightly-red hair, while his other hand slid down the tight muscle of her back, the smooth skin interspersed with the raised markings of her scars, finally settling on the luscious curve of her buttocks.

The blue-haired beauty pushed him almost to the edge, and then pulled away, the head of his member exiting her mouth with a wet pop. Wasting no words, Leona straddled him, positioned herself for penetration. Iori held his breath at the sight, letting it out in a hot gasp seconds later as she lowered herself onto him, her tight pink nether-lips sliding down the length of his shaft, burying him to the hilt within herself.

After the overwhelming sensation of initial entry had passed, Iori opened his eyes to the heavenly sight mounted on top of him. Leona's lower lip quivered, her hands gripped her lover's shoulders, the tint of red growing deeper around the edges of her hair as more control was surrendered for pure pleasure.

"I've missed having you inside me," she gasped, gazing down into his deep red eyes.

"I've missed being there," Iori whispered back, gazing back into her bright blue, spackled with their own deep red.

Leona arched herself slightly, hands behind her back, and started to ride him, sliding her tight, wet sex up and down his stiff manhood. Iori was mesmerized by the sight, her body looked so much like a piece of Grecian sculpture: hard chiseled muscle, graceful feminine curves, her hair running wild and free. But in one way, her body was even more physically perfect than those ancient artworks.

Once more, Iori found himself fixated on the scars cris-crossing her firm thighs, standing out more prominent now due to the thin sheen of sweat coating her milky-white skin. They were more attractive to him than the sight of her large breasts shaking as she impaled herself upon him over and over.

His hands moved to her legs, tracing the rougher tissue of her scars, more entranced by it than he was by the smoother flesh around them. He moved his calloused fingertips across her body, lightly tracing every scar on her abs, her shoulders, her arms... he imagined the stories behind each one, battles survived and lessons learned, much like the scars all over his own body.

They painted a picture of a fearless warrior, just like him in so many ways, yet different. And somehow, their differences balanced out, two halves creating a unique whole. "Perfect," he said with a gasp, one finger lingering at a small scar under her collarbone before he finally let his hands drift down to close around her breasts.

"Aaaah!" A small cry of pleasure escaped his lover's lips, and Leona began to grind on him more earnestly, her body getting hotter as Iori fondled her breasts, lightly pinched her erect nipples. He couldn't help but notice that not only the hair on her head, but also the well-groomed patch of short blue curls on her pubic mound were also taking on a slight tint of red.

Iori felt his own primal instincts taking over, as well. He moved upright on the bed, pressing his body close to Leona's, and attacked her lips with his own. Leona returned the kiss, her hands roaming his muscular back, as she ground against him for all she was worth.

"You feel so good," he whispered into her ear.

"You do," she gasped, feeling another shudder of pleasure run through her.

Overcome by lust, Iori turned suddenly so that Leona was on her back on the bed, pinned underneath him. The Ikari soldier allowed him to take the lead in their dance, relinquishing control in a way that she never had for anyone else. Because she trusted Iori with his life, trusted him not to let his instincts overtake him completely. So she wrapped her legs around him and bucked her hips in time with his thrusting.

Even through the blissful haze of Iori pounding her, Leona was able to focus enough on his body over hers, and in particular her gaze was on the scars that cris-crossed his muscular chest. Her fingertips began to explore his torso in a design similar to what he'd just done to her, tracing over the raised tissue of those scars, wondering what stories they told about his life as a fighter. And much like her own scars, it made him even more attractive.

"B-b-beautiful," she managed to whisper, though it was getting much harder to speak. Iori was relentless, pure id at this point, pounding away at Leona's tight pussy, their moans and the wet slapping of his flesh to hers the only sounds in their universe at the moment. But like her, he still kept the tainted blood at bay just beneath the surface, leaving her feeling only pure sexual bliss, in a way she thought no man would ever be able to.

After several minutes of thrusting, Iori could feel his climax building within him just as he could also feel his lover start to clench around his engorged member. As good as it might feel for both of them if he continued to the inevitable conclusion while still sheathed within her, he'd rather not take the risk, as impregnating her would definitely bring both their lives to a screeching halt, to say nothing of the curse affecting women who carried his clan's offspring to term, something he'd never subject Leona to.

So Iori began to pull backwards, but was stopped halfway by his lover's thighs tightening around his waist. "No," she grunted. "Finish inside of me. Don't worry, today is one of my safe days."

He paused for a moment, brow furrowed. "Are... are you sure?"

"Positive," she assured him. "I have my cycles memorized. It's okay. Just keep going."

Another pause, as he looked deep into her eyes. "I trust you," he affirmed, and then resumed his pace of two thrusts per second into her. He felt her womanhood constricting even tighter around him, causing his member to twitch, both of them moving ever closer to a blissful eruption...

Seconds later, Leona dropped her curtain of iron-clad control completely, allowing her climax to shake her to the very core. Her back and head arched, her screams of pleasure ringing in both their ears as waves of pure sexual pleasure shot up from her loins through every inch of her being. Iori's own passionate cries mingled with hers as he too lost it, his manhood convulsing within her, flooding her womb with his spunk.

After he was drained, Iori opened his eyes to see her body trembling beneath him, breath coming in ragged gasps, her bangs plastered to her forehead with sweat. The moment had passed, and once more she wrapped herself in the mantle of her control, the red fading from both her hair and eyes. After another minute, she loosened her grip on his mid-section, opening her legs and allowing him to slide out of her and roll off onto his back, resting his head against the pillows. She curled up against him, and he wrapped an arm around her, using the other to pull the sheets up over their bodies.

Leona's cheek was resting on his pec, and again she found her eyes gravitating towards his scars, running her fingers gently over them. His imperfections are what make him perfect, she thought. Her fingertips stopped on his most recent acquisition, the burn mark that was courtesy of Kusanagi, and she gazed up at him. "That was fantastic," she whispered in the still darkness of the hotel room.

"I'm glad I could please you," Iori answered, both arms around her now.

The blue-haired beauty's brow furrowed then, a look of worry, something else that few others ever saw on her face. "You... don't have to leave, do you? It... would be nice if you could stay until morning."

"I won't leave," he assured her. "I'll be here when you wake up."

"I'm glad," Leona whispered, settling back down against him. Her voice grew softer, the fatigue of both her mission and the celebration afterwards finally catching up to her. "My flight to Brazil doesn't leave until the evening. Maybe... we could do something tomorrow before then?"

A faint smile tugged at his mouth. "I'd like that."

"I would, too," she said. "I... I enjoy being with you." She became lost to sleep after speaking those words. A peaceful sleep, as it always was when Iori shared her bed. No dreams, no night terrors. Just eight hours of pure nothing.

Iori stayed awake for a little longer, watching her snore softly, feeling her breasts rise and fall against him with each breath she took, mouth curled upwards ever so slightly in her own faint smile. He held her tighter, hands once more trailing over the scars on her naked body. After a moment, he tucked a stray lock of blue hair behind her ear, then leaned down and kissed her eyes.

"Your imperfections are what make you perfect," he whispered, and then he too drifted off to sleep, both deep and dreamless, as it always was when he shared a bed with Leona...


ADDITIONAL NOTES

So, according to my research, "safe days" are probably one of the worst forms of birth control there is. But for this fic, I like the idea that Leona's control over her own body is so focused, she's able to ovulate and menstruate at the same times every month. But yeah, in real life, never let a girl tell you it's a safe day.

Also, there is a reference somewhere in this fic to the first Ikari Warriors game. Let me know if you spotted it.

And that's all for now. It was fun going outside the comfort zone again, and I'm honestly a little surprised how fast I wrote the sex scene. It's one of the quickest ones I've ever written. Please review, and let me know what you think.

Until next time...