#(and it gives me an excuse to ignore clair)

[faerygrant]

sympathy is a knife - carmen berzatto x reader

Couldn’t even be her if I tried, I’m opposite I’m on the other side.

notes: being with carmen means facing his family, whom of which are still ardent on him being with his ex girlfriend, Claire. [angst, swearing, crazy Donna]

It was no secret to you that the Carmen’s family thought he had settled for less when he decided to marry you. Sure you’d gone to college, had experience and a job you loved, but that was nothing compared to what they expected of their precious golden boy. They all had their minds set on him being with his (kind of) high-school girlfriend, whom he himself struggles to acknowledge as such. The disapproval was intensified when you and he had both come to the agreement that you’d stop working and instead focus on yourself and the well being of the incoming Berzatto you were carrying.

—

Most times you could ignore the subtle frowns of disapproval you’d receive from his family members during dinners, like when they’d ask what you did for a living and you’d simply tell them you’d been a teacher. Or when you’d told them you were expecting and that the two of you were floating the idea of you not returning to work after the 9 months. However it always seemed to sting a little worse when it came from non other than your mother in law, Mrs. Donna Berzatto. Who made it known and almost her personal mission to belittle, humble and berate you any chance she got. Which was not often, as Carmen was hellbent on keeping you and himself away from her.

Tonight however was different, the two of you couldn’t find any excuse to get yourselves out of the family gathering, seeing as it was the 5 year anniversary of Michael’s death. You had no choice but to throw on your most modest maternity outfit and drag yourselves to Donna’s. Carmen kept a tight hand on yours throughout the entire drive there, a silent reminder that he was there and he was not going to allow you to be disrespected.

“Y’know I’m not gonna let her give you shit right?” Carmen turns from the road to look at you, his face genuine.

“I know, but I don’t want this to be about me, today’s about Mikey and you and the bond he and you and the rest of the family shared.” You squeeze his hand tightly, wanting to keep it together for him, it’s the least you could do, seeing as this was the closest thing he’d get to Mikey’s funeral.

—

As the car arrived in-front of the familiar brownstone, you could see a lineup of familiar cars and your stomach lurched in anxiety. Anxiety that Carmen sensed right away. “Honey, if you don’t want to go in there, you say it right now and we’re leaving.” He puts the car in park and turns his body, completely facing you. His beautiful face framed by his curls and his piercing blue eyes boring holes into yours.

“Carm, stop worrying about me Kay? I’ll be fine, I’ve dealt with Donna’s stuff before and if she tried anything, then we can leave, I promise I’ll tell you if I wanna leave.” He smiles and nods in agreement of your words, trusting that you’ll keep your promise. He quickly placed a kiss on your forehead and then placed his hand on your stomach, giving it a gentle squeeze, before he’s unbuckling your seatbelt and helping you out of the car.

—

The aroma of ragu, antipastos and the burning of an oven were the first things to hit you as soon as you landed into the door of the home. The second was buzzing of chatter and conversation that you believed were coming from the dining and living areas. Carmen shut the door behind him and held onto the small of your back as you two made your way into the salon. Here you were met with a horde of familiar faces, from the Faks to Richie and sweet Pete. Everyone was quick to bombard the two of you with questions, hugs and conversation. In the midst of a conversation with Richie, your attention is taken away when you hear Sugar walking into the dining area with a hot dish in hand. You smile right at her, but your face falls when you see who it is she was engaged in conversation with, right behind her.

—

“I’m happy that finally my family cares enough to come together for something that matters to me, it matters a lot. I’m just h-happy that my baby boy Carmen is here, I missed him a lot.” Donna concludes after an almost 10 minute long speech that had not much to do with her dead son, but instead was full of jabs and digs at the people on the table. Your eyes were focused on your lap, Carmen’s hand instinctively resting on your stomach, and Claire’s eyes trained on the two of you the entire time. If it weren’t for the pregnancy heat flashes, you’d of believed she was boring lasers into you.

Nonetheless the dinner continues and while the wine, conversation and food continue to flow, the air of awkwardness is evident, especially considering Richie and the Faks’ rare silence about the elephant in the room. “Carm, I invited Claire here because I remember how sweet on her you were.” Donna says sardonically, followed by a huge gulp of red wine. The entire table inaudibly wince at her words and Claire smiles at Carmen in turn. “Good to see you again Bear, your mom says the restaurants doing good.” She smiles at him, hand methodically placed under her chin and he nods politely, thanking her.

“You must be Bears partner, lovely to meet you.” Claire smiles at you, the grin ingenue, hardly even an attempt.

“I am, it’s nice to meet you too Claire.” You force out the pleasantries, not wanting to come off as bitter but the fire inside you is raging and you want to scream.

“You know sweet Claire is a doctor, she’s doing so good for herself, I wish you’d go on a date with her get to know her.” Donna whispers the last part, but the damage is done.

“Y/n’s a teacher you know, so in a way you’re both doing jobs where you help people.” Sweet Pete chimes in, bless his heart.

“Oh please, Claire is actually saving lives, not teaching woke literature to highschool children.” Another dig at you from Donna, that’s not so subtle.

“Ma, another shitty comment and we’re out of here.” Carmen says, really trying to calm himself, earning him a nod of approval from Richie.

“Ofcourse she has you threatening your own mother.” Donna rolls her eyes, ever the queen of finding new ways to shift blame to you.

“Congratulations on your pregnancy, I heard you’re expecting a girl?” This time it was Claire, but before you answer Donna’s cutting you off to make another comment.

“Remember when Carm and Claire used to date in junior high, aww I always thought they’d make great babies, I mean she’s got the looks and the height, can’t say the same for all.”

“MOM!” Sugar yells out, offended at her mother’s displays for you.

“What the fuck ma?” Carmy groans, as he watches you get up from your chair and waddle to the front door.

—

You’re sat on the stairs of the brownstone, hysterical when Carmen finds you. “I fucking knew she’d do this shit, please don’t cry.” He wraps himself around you and your burry your face into his chest.

“Y’know none of what she says is true yeah?

“But what if it is Carmen? What if you settled for me, I’m not successful like her and I’m not an all Italian girl like your family wants me to be. She’s near perfect and I’m just me.”

“Y’think I give a fuck about that shit?” He looks genuinely bewildered.

“You don’t?” You sniffle as you ask.

“Fuck no, I don’t care about money o job, just care about you,m you’re my girl, perfect f’me, all I’ve ever wanted.” He runs his thumb against the test that had just begun its descent down your cheek.

“Y’gonna stop crying now and let me take you home? He stand up, dusting off his workwear pants before he’s reaching out a hand to help you up.

“Yeah.” You sniffle, before getting up with his aid.

“I love you for you, you know that?” He asks as he hold your hand, guiding you into the car and buckling you back in and you nod and smile so sweetly.

[honeyryewhiskey]

... ❝ happy new year!❞

— a hunter's new year's eve party is the last place you wanted to be tonight. but, claire clued you in on a certain someone being here tonight. and, what? you're just supposed to not show up when the elusive dean winchester is making an appearance? warnings!! alcohol use, strong language, it's nye ofc they r kissing, assume reader is a little older than claire so this is less weird idk, 18+ mdni ! 3.8k words

“Claire—no. I told you, I’m not going,” you say with an exaggerated sigh, tucking your phone between your shoulder and chin as you step out of the quiet diner. The cool South Dakota night breeze bites at your skin as you continue, “Hunters are obnoxious drunks—all of them. New Year’s is basically a rite of passage: another year breathing, another excuse to act like a pack of wild animals partying like it’s their last day on Earth.” As you huff a sigh, the cold air turning your breath into a misty cloud that lingers.

Crossing the dimly lit parking lot toward your truck, you hear Claire mutter something under her breath.

It’s quick—but her words make your heart flutter, your hand freezing just as it brushes the door handle.

“What did you just say?”

Through the crackle of the call, you can hear her smug little scoff that instantly makes you want to reach through the phone. You know she’s dramatically rolling her big blue eyes, too

“I said,” she drawls, each word slow and taunting, like a cat playing with a trapped mouse, “The Winchesters are in town—so Dean will be there.”

Dean fucking Winchester. You’d only met him once—years ago, before Claire roped you into becoming her hunting partner. He’d swept in like a storm, leather jacket and all, to save your ass from a nasty shifter, barely breaking a sweat in the process. His gruff charm and cocky smirk had left you reeling, even as he’d muttered something about “maybe hunting isn’t the answer” before disappearing into the night in his impala. But it wasn’t until later, in the dim haze of a small-town bar, when Claire casually dropped the bombshell that the Winchesters were basically her uncles. A few drinks in, your guard slipped, and you drunkenly admitted your stupid crush on the eldest brother. Claire, to her credit, had seemed to let it slide—until now.

“So, what?” you say, forcing out a sheepish laugh as you yank the car door open a little too hard. It bounces back and smacks into your arm. “Ow,” you mutter, scowling at the offending door.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.” You grit your teeth, cheeks burning. “Look, Claire, I told you I’m not going. The Winchesters don’t change that.”

“Uh-huh,” she replies, dripping with disbelief. “And what if I told you Dean’s already here—at Jodi’s—and he asked about you?”

“He did?” The words are out before you can stop them, your stomach doing an unwelcome little flip. You try to ignore it as you hurriedly shuffle into the driver’s seat. “What was he asking? Wait—what did you say to him?”

“Hah!” Claire cackles, victorious. “You sound like a middle schooler, all flustered over a boy.”

“Oh, Claire,” you shoot back, narrowing your eyes at nothing, “your uncle is so much more than a boy—”

“Ew! Stop it.” Her groan is dramatic enough to make you grin. “Look, if you don’t come, I’ll just tell Dean about your little crush myself.”

“You wouldn’t dare—”

“Hey, Dean! Can you c’mere for a second?”

“Claire Novak!” You practically shout, panic tightening your throat.

Her laughter echoes through the line, wicked and delighted. “God, you’re so easy. Relax—I’m kidding.” There’s a pause. Her voice sounds distant, as she talks to someone on the other side of the phone, “oh—Dean, can you just say something stupid real quick? Need proof of life here.”

“What?” His gruff voice rumbles faintly through the line.

“Perfect.” Claire’s smugness is palpable. “So?”

You let out a groan, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Fine. Give me a few hours.” 

✧˖*°࿐

The humming engine softens as you creep down the winding drive. Large pine trees part as Jodi’s cabin comes into view. Massive windows, glowing orange against Pactola Lake. The light leaves a pretty reflection against glass-like water, a snow covered lawn twinking in warm hues. But it’s the silky gleam of your headlights shining against the sleek body of an old ‘67 impala that catches your eyes. Dean’s impala.

The burning in your cheeks is hard to ignore as you find a space to park in the tightly packed lot. Old trucks and cars cover every inch, some even parked on the frosty grass. Hunter parties were big, but never this big. A ripple of relief flows through, momentarily easing the goosebumps pricking your skin. More people meant less chances for you to embarrass yourself in front of the Winchesters or Claire, who’d never let you live it down if you did.

Turning the ignition, the engine clicks off with a huff. As if on cue, your phone starts buzzing on the passenger seat. 

You bite down on the corner of your lip, face illuminated by the glow of your cell as the overhead lights fade out. 

Stealing a moment to yourself, you stare out at the quiet of the cars while practicing deep breathing. You’re used to this, you remind yourself. Hunter’s parties are where you spent all of your holidays after the age of eight. Ended up in the wrong place, at the wrong time and found yourself with your own hunter’s origin story. 

At least there was family in this world you live in, a weird, fucked up family of strangers bonded by their shared profession of exterminating walking evil from the world. 

And now, said family was getting plastered on homemade beer and cheap wine a few yards away from where you sat deep breathing in your truck. 

Shoving the creaky truck open, you slip into the night. Claire throws open the front door, a wicked grin plastered over her face. 

“Would you quit dragging your feet and get in here?” Claire hollers, her grin gleaming like she knows exactly how hard your heart is pounding. The faint hum of country music and the murmur of voices spill out through the open doorway behind her, the warmth of the cabin promising a sharp contrast to the frosty night air.

You tug your jacket tighter around yourself, muttering, “I’m coming, I’m coming.”

The cabin’s interior is as cozy and chaotic as you remember from past gatherings. The faint scent of pine mingles with beer and something smoky—someone probably barbecued a big dinner. Hunters are scattered everywhere, laughing, drinking, and sharing stories loud enough to rattle the walls.

You weave your way through the crowd, nodding at familiar faces. There’s Jodi by the makeshift bar, pouring drinks while laughing at something Alex said. Garth waves from his spot near the fire, somehow managing to juggle a beer and a plate piled high with food. And Bobby is leaning against a wall, talking with a hunter you vaguely recognize from a case last year.

Claire bumps into you from behind, snapping you out of your daze. “C’mon,” she sings out, brows jumping with excitement, “drinks are this way.” 

She leads you to the cluster of coolers tucked against the back wall of the kitchen. The noise of the party fades slightly as you step away from the center of the chaos, but the faint hum of music and bursts of laughter still fill the air.

“Here,” Claire nods, flipping open a cooler lid and pulling out a nondescript brown bottle. “You’ll love this. Super organic. Super local.”

“That sounds like a lie,” you say, narrowing your eyes as you take the bottle.

Claire smirks. “Just try it.”

With a small shrug, you twist the cap off and take a cautious sip. The taste hits immediately—bitter and earthy, with an unmistakable homemade tang. You recoil, your nose scrunching as the bottle lowers from your lips.

“Okay, what the hell is that?” you cough, wiping your mouth. “Did someone brew this in a bathtub?”

Claire laughs just as a voice cuts in from behind you, warm and teasing. “That bad, huh?”

You turn to find Dean standing there, beer in hand with an amused smirk on his lips. Your stomach flutters and flips under his gaze, as you remind yourself to just act cool.

You hadn’t even noticed Sam, stepping beside his brother with a polite smile. 

“Guess you’re not cut out for the finer things,” Dean adds, nodding toward the bottle in your hand.

“Oh, is that what this is?” you shoot back, raising an eyebrow. “Because it tastes like someone blended tree bark and regret.”

Sam chuckles, offering his hand. “I’m Sam, this is my brother, Dean. You’re Claire’s friend right? She’s told us a lot about you.”

You take his hand with a polite smile. “Yeah, she’s told me plenty about you guys, too. Nice to finally meet you, Sam. But Your brother and I met once, a while ago now.”

Sam quirks a brow at your words, hazel eyes cutting between you and Dean as if he’s trying to read between the lines of exactly what kind of meeting that may have been.

Before he can get a chance to ask, Claire clears her throat loudly, cutting into the exchange. “Oh, Sam, didn’t you want to see that thing? Over there?” Her finger points vaguely at the living room, deep blue irises the size of saucers as she tries to give him a look of let’s go—now.

Sam blinks, confused as he turns towards her. “What thing?”

Rolling her eyes, she grabs his arm, already dragging him away. “You know—the thing Jodi was talking about. Let’s go.”

“Wait—what thing?” Sam protests, his long limbs stumbling as she pulls him into the crowd, leaving you and Dean standing awkwardly by the coolers.

Dean watches them disappear, his eyebrows furrowed. “She’s acting weird.”

You let out a sheepish laugh, looking down at the bottle in your hand. “Claire? No,” you wave your hand vaguely, desperate to put out the spark of suspicion brewing in his jade eyes, “She’s... always like that.”

Dean gives you a skeptical look but doesn’t push. “So,” he sighs, leaning casually against the counter, “how’s life as Claire’s partner-in-crime? She ever let you get a word in?” His curiosity completely fizzled, eyes trained on you with a small smile. 

You grin up at him, trying your damn hardest not to smile too much at a simple question. “Occasionally. When she’s asleep.”

“That sounds about right,” he chuckles, that smile falling into a smirk. “Bet she’s got you running all over the place, huh?”

“Pretty much. Although to be fair, I do my fair share of dragging her into messes.”

“Let me guess,” Dean starts, his husky voice making goosebumps tent across your skin. “You’re the responsible one. The voice of reason.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “I wouldn’t go that far. It’s more like... I’m the one making sure she doesn’t jump into a werewolf den without backup.”

“Good luck with that,” he quips, rolling his eyes. “She’s stubborn as hell. Runs in the family.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” you reply, smirking back at him.

Dean’s eyes narrow playfully. “Was that a shot at me?”

“Maybe,” you say, taking another swig of the beer and grimacing again. “God, this is terrible.”

Dean chuckles, reaching over to take the bottle from you. “Here, let me save you from yourself.” He sets it on the cooler and hands you one of the labeled beers from the next cooler over. “Try this instead. It won’t kill you.”

You take it, your fingers brushing his briefly. “Thanks. I was starting to think you were going to let me suffer.”

“Nah,” he says, the corner of his mouth tugging up. “Not my style.”

Bobby’s clapping as he strides into the kitchen catches everyone’s attention. “You two—garage, now,” he orders, motioning toward the garage door. A small crowd trails behind him as he crosses the room.

Dean flashes you a quick grin, raising a brow. You exchange a knowing look before following the group. Claire brushes past, grabbing your arm with a playful smile as she glances between you and Dean.

Jodi stood at the makeshift table in the garage, lining up red Solo cups with the precision of someone who’d once been a drill sergeant in another life. “Alright, listen up!” she called, gesturing toward the group. “We’re playing flip cup—two teams, four players each. No whining, no excuses, and definitely no cheating.” She pointed at Dean with a sharp look.

Dean raises his hands in mock surrender, all feigned innocence. “What? I’m offended you’d even suggest that, Jodi.”

Donna, practically bouncing with excitement, chimes in, “Relax, Sheriff. Dean’s too cocky to cheat. He thinks he’s already won.”

Standing next to Sam, you smirk. “That’s because he hasn’t gone up against us yet. His ego’s about to take a hit.”

Dean’s gaze snaps to yours, his eyebrows lifting with a teasing smile. “Big words, sweetheart. Let’s see if you can back ’em up.”

Jodi claps her hands again, “Alright, teams are set! Over here—Dean, Alex, Sam, and Bobby. Over there—Me, Donna, Claire and you.” she finishes, pointing at you with a wink. “Dean, I reckon I’ve got your match here with this one.” 

A deep laugh rolls out of Dean as he leans casually against the workbench, “Uh, huh, you say that now, Jodi. But you’re gonna be singin’ a different tune when this is over.”

The game kicks off with an eruption of cheers as everyone falls into line behind the first match: you and Alex. She knocks back her first drink with ease, but her flip wobbles, giving you enough time to swiftly take the first win. 

“Yes!” you shriek, hands going up in the air, “first blood!” 

“That’s my girl!” Claire giggles from the line. 

Dean, watching with his arms crossed, meets your eyes with a smirk, “Alright, alright, girls. Don’t get too cocky yet.”

Sam and Donna face off next. To your surprise, Donna keeps pace with Sam, matching his speed as she downs her drink. Just as Sam moves to flip his cup, Donna’s lands upright on the first try with flawless precision.

“Yes!” Donna shouts, throwing her arms up in victory. The garage erupts into cheers from her team, while yours lets out a collective groan.

Sam stares at his still-tipping cup, dumbfounded. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he mutters.

Donna grins, clapping him on the back. “Sorry, Sammy, but the Midwest don’t mess around.”

They fall back from the table, Sam with his head hanging low as Dean’s laughter booms over everyone else's. 

Claire steps up with confidence, “You’re going down, old man!” she teases as she stares down Dean from across the table. Her expression is smug, completely locked into her competitive nature. They move simultaneously, Claire finishing her cup seconds before Dean. 

“C’mon,” she yells, wiping her mouth hastily as she attempts her first flip. It doesn’t land, earning a smug chuckle from Dean as he casually sets his cup down onto the table. 

Grinning at her lazily, “Patience, kiddo.” With an annoying lack of effort, he nails his first flip. A noisy chaos ensues around you. 

“That’s how it’s done.” he gloats, head tilting to throw you a quick wink.

With narrow eyes, you shoot back at him, “Don’t get too comfortable, Winchester.” 

The game heated up as Jodi and Bobby began the final round, a rambunctious chant of “chug, chug, chug,” filled the air. Jodi drinks too fast, falling into a coughing fit as Bobby takes advantage of the moment and flips his cup a few times, cursing, until he’s taking the round for the win. 

The opposite team cheers as Jodi regains her composure, “Hang on a damn minute,” she laughs, clearing her throat, “we’ve got a tie. Two and two for wins, who’s gonna be the tie breakers?”

Everyone looks around at each other for a moment, until Dean’s clearing his throat, stepping up to the table. He points at you without looking up from the cup he’s filling with beer. “You and me, baby. Let’s go.” 

The room quieted slightly as everyone leaned in, the tension palpable.

Dean smirks, “You ready for this?”

You return his look, eyes sparkling, “Born ready.”

You both drink at lighting speed, slamming cups down almost simultaneously. Dean flips first, but it topples over and skids across the table. “Damnnit!” he shouts. 

You try yours, the cup slipping on the table that has become a mess of puddles from the previous rounds. Bitting your lip you try again, your finger curling into the cup just as Dean breaks your focus with a throat holler.  

You look up to see his cup, perfectly upright on the table. 

His fists are pumping the air, basking in the glory. “And that, ladies and gentlemen, is why you don’t mess with the master.”

Donna and Alex high-fived him as Jodi shook her head with a rueful smile.

Claire, groaning loudly, threw a hand over her face. “Ugh, I’m never gonna hear the end of this.”

With your hands on her hips, a raised eyebrow. “Alright, Winchester. You won. No need to act like you just saved the world.”

Dean stepped closer, his grin growing wider. “Oh, it’s not just about winning. It’s about proving a point.”

Crossing your arms, head tilting. “And what point is that?”

Dean, leaning in slightly, lowered his voice just enough to make your heart skip. “That I’m better at everything.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “You’re unbelievable.”

Dean, straightening up, gave you a wink. “You’ll thank me for the lesson someday.”

Sam, rolling his eyes, walked by and clapped Dean on the shoulder. “You’re the worst winner.”

Dean grinned at his brother. “And proud of it, Sammy.”

The garage was still buzzing with energy as everyone started migrating toward the house, laughing and recounting moments from the flip cup game. Jodi herded people inside, saying something about grabbing coats before heading out for the fireworks.

You linger near the door, talking to Sam and Claire about Dean’s relentless gloating, when you feel the faintest brush of warm air against your ear.

“Hey.”

Dean’s closeness startles you, his lips just barely brushing the shell of your ear as he speaks.

“I’ve got a better spot to watch the fireworks,” he murmurs, his voice low enough to send a shiver down your spine.

Blinking at him, your heart stumbles over itself. “Yeah? What makes it better?”

Dean leans in a little closer, glancing around to make sure no one else is listening. “Well, for one, it’s not packed with a bunch of loudmouths.” He nods toward the others, who are noisily debating something in the living room. “Second, it’s got the best view of the lake. Was gonna keep it to myself, but…” His brows raise, teasing. “Figured I owed you after absolutely destroying you in flip cup.”

You bite your cheek to hide a smile. “Oh, how generous of you.”

Dean leans back with a shrug, his hands sliding into his pockets. “What can I say? I’m a man of honor.”

“Sure you are,” you tease back, feeling a mix of amusement and nerves swirl in your chest.

Without waiting for a full reply, Dean jerks his head toward the back stairs. “C’mon. You in?”

You hesitate only for a moment, the pull of his green eyes leaving no room for argument. With a nod, you agree. “Lead the way.”

Following Dean up the stairs, the noise of the party fades into a muffled hum. Stepping into a bedroom, you notice the open duffel bag tossed on the bed, a scattered mess of flannels and dark t-shirts on the floor.

Oh. You’re in his room.

Unaware of the way your heart is beating like a hummingbird’s wings, Dean grabs a flannel blanket from the chair in the corner before crossing to the window.

“Wait,” you start, watching as he unlocks it and slides it open. “We’re going out the window?”

Dean glances over his shoulder, his grin casual as ever. “What, you scared of a little height? Thought you were more adventurous than that.”

“I’m plenty adventurous,” you shoot back, hands on your hips. “Just wasn’t expecting an escape route.”

“Well, buckle up, sweetheart.” He climbs through the window with practiced ease, balancing the blanket over his shoulder. “It’s worth it, trust me.”

You follow him, carefully stepping onto the gently sloped roof. The cool night air hits your cheeks, and the chatter of the group below mixes with faint music drifting from the cabin.

Dean spreads the blanket out on a flat portion of the roof, then turns to offer a hand. “Your throne awaits, milady.”

You laugh softly, taking his hand and sitting down next to him. “You’re ridiculous.”

“You love it,” he quips, settling beside you.

It’s the perfect vantage point—an unobstructed view of the lake where the fireworks will light up the sky. Down on the lawn, the others gather, laughing and occasionally tripping over each other as a few of the guys set up the fireworks.

You laugh, pointing out one hunter chasing another with a lit sparkler. “This feels like a disaster waiting to happen.”

Dean chuckles. “Hunters: professional monster killers, amateur party planners.”

The fireworks begin, bursting over the lake in brilliant colors that reflect off the water. The two of you fall into a companionable silence, the booms and crackles filling the air.

Someone from the ground shouts into the night, “It’s almost time!”

Within seconds, your mind is racing, thinking about how much fun this entire night has been. How you’re not even sure when—or if—you’ll see the elusive Dean Winchester again. Maybe it’s the buzz from chugging beer during flip cup, or maybe it’s the way he makes you feel safe, even in silence, that gives you the courage to speak.

“Confession,” you blurt out, biting your lip. Just as you get the word out, the crowd below begins the countdown.

ten… nine…

“Hm?” he grumbles, brows knitting as jade eyes give your face a once-over.

eight… seven…

“I’ve never had a New Year’s kiss.”

six… five…

Your heart is definitely going to burst out of your chest, that much you’re sure of.

four… three…

Dean lets out a quiet, raspy laugh.

two…

His eyes roam over your face, soft and searching.

one…

The fireworks crackle into the night, but all you can focus on is Dean’s warm hands against your flushed cheeks. He pulls you in, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that steals the air from your lungs.

The world around you falls away—the cracking in the sky, the cheers from below, the chill of the night. All that matters is the way Dean’s kiss lingers, unhurried, sweet, and just a little daring.

He pulls back first, with a smile big enough to show off the dimples in his cheeks. “Guess that counts as your first New Year’s kiss. Gotta say, you’re setting the bar pretty high.”

You laugh, trying to play it cool even as your heart races. “High? That was barely a six out of ten.”

Dean raises an eyebrow, his grin widening. “A six, huh? Alright, guess I’ve got all year to work on it.”

Your cheeks flush, but you roll your eyes. “You better bring your A-game next time, Winchester.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” he says, leaning in just enough to make your breath hitch again. “You ain’t seen anything yet.”

happy new year babiesss, i'm sorry if this is ass i just wanted to write reader with best friend claire and the warm fuzzy feeling of being at a hunter's party. and if the teams didn't actually tie. dont look at me i rewrote that like 5 fucking times bc i can't figure out how to tie it but i think i did idk idk idk

if ur reading this far, this post is scheduled as i am currently bartending at the clerb to about 1,000 drunk ppl pray for me lol 🫶🏽

[drabblesandimagines]

Sliding Doors

Leon Kennedy x female reader, Chris Redfield x female reader, fluff, angst

For the lovely @porcelainseashore who commission a continuation from Forever Hold Your Peace. Thank you for all your love and support ❤️

“Should anyone present know of any reason that this couple should not be joined in holy matrimony…” the minister begins, but as you stand opposite Chris – a soft, adoring smile on his face, shedding a tear when he’d saw how beautiful you looked as you walked down the aisle – you can’t help but meet the gaze of the best man’s icy blue eyes for a moment. “..speak now or forever hold your peace.”

Leon clenches his fists.

“No.”

It’s a muttered plea more than a loud proclamation, but it’s audible enough for several pairs of eyes to focus on him due to the interruption.

The minister smiles, awkwardly, his eyes flitting between the members of the bridal party to gauge whether it was a joke – heaven knows he’s seen them fall flat before - before he clears his throat to proceed with the vows.

“Christo-”

“No.” It’s louder that time, Leon’s voice echoed around the room like a gunshot.

“Not the time for your jokes, bud.” Chris forces out a laugh as he replies over his shoulder, before turning back to you and offering a reassuring smile.

“It’s not a joke.” You wish the ground would swallow you up as Leon remains focused on you. “Don’t marry him.”

“Leon”, Claire hisses from over your shoulder, looking furious. “What are you doing?”

He ignores her. “I’m not saying marry me, but just… Don’t marry him.”

You shake your head, subtly, eyes wide in fear as the small congregation of friends and family begin to whisper amongst themselves.

This isn’t happening. It can’t be happening.

Chris’ fists are now clenched as he turns to his supposed best man, his brow furrowed as he tries to analyze the situation, his mind automatically heading into work mode – assess, strategize, action.

“What is this?”

Leon ignores Chris too, instead taking a step forward. “I’m different now – I swear. Just give me another chance. The connection’s still there – I know you felt it when we kissed-”

“Kissed?!” Chris and Claire reiterate almost in unison, and someone in the seated crowd gasps.

“What kiss?” Chris presses, turning back to look at you in disbelief. “Honey, what’s he talking about?”

Your mouth feels drier than it ever has, your tongue heavy in your mouth. “I didn’t, Chris… I… I mean, he…”

“I kissed her, Redfield.” Leon cuts across, rolling back his shoulders as he sidesteps in front of the groom, blocking you from his sight. “When you asked me to deliver that gift earlier, I kissed her. Can’t say it was the first time either.”

You should say something more coherent than your mumbled excuses – explain what Leon means by that because it definitely makes it sound worse than it is - but your heart is pounding and you’re beginning to feel a little faint.

This isn’t real, it’s a bad dream and you’re going to wake up in the hotel suite, Claire knocking on the door, hair stylist and make-up artist in tow to help you start getting ready.

The minister tries to soothe tensions instead. “Perhaps we should take this somewhere more private to-“

“What the fuck does that mean, Kennedy?”

“We were a thing-”

“We were not a thing, Leon,” you shift a little to the side then so you can see Chris, finding your voice at last.

You wished you hadn’t moved as hurt flashes across Chris’ face - sweet, loyal, dependable Chris.

Chris, who never fails to set up coffee machine timer to greet you with a freshly brewed batch when he has to leave early, who would always find some sort of way to communicate with you even if he was halfway across the world, who never shied away from holding your hand or kissing you in public, who told his closest colleagues about you openly, who didn’t treat you like a dirty little secret.

Chris, who, despite how much you tried to convince yourself, has never made you feel quite like Leon did.

“-before you two started dating.” Leon presses on, ignoring how the taller man’s shoulders grow more and more tense, seething breaths now coming out of his nose. “I treated her rotten, drove her into your arms and regretted it every minute since. I’m not gonna let her make the biggest mis-”

Chris’ fist meets Leon’s face – it’s so swift that the whole room takes a moment to realise what’s happened. The agent is surprisingly not knocked off his feet by the blow but stumbles back and you automatically reach out a hand to steady him by his arm, unaware of how it looks in that moment.

Leon wipes a trickle of blood from his mouth, looking smug as he relishes your touch. “Not gonna say I didn’t deserve that.”

Chris is staring at your hand on Leon’s arm and you pull it back when you see the hurt in his eyes, wringing your hands together as you begin to plead.

“I’m sorry, Chris. I should’ve told you, but it… It was nothing. A blip. It wasn’t anything like what we have. He kissed me earlier and I pushed him away and I told him. Please.”

“Is this why you were crying?” Claire demands, stepping over to stand besides Chris in an act of support. Her shoulders are high, ready to protect her brother at all costs. “In the suite earlier, when Leon was there.”

“N-no,” you shake your head furiously, but your voice isn’t convincing enough to your own ears, especially in comparison to Leon’s firm “Yes.”

You’re hot, the wedding gown of your dreams feeling stifling, too tight, the veil tugging heavily at your scalp.

“Chris, please, can we go talk somewhere?” You step forward, past Leon, hand outstretched to take your fiance’s. You want to take him away from all the prying eyes, the disbelieving murmurs, away from all the tension, have a discussion with clear heads, but he pulls his hand from out of your reach.

“Do you love him?” Chris’ voice is so flat it makes you feel sick. It’s the same tone he has when he comes back from missions where he’s lost comrades, the one that you can slowly break him out of after days of soft words and touches.

You never wanted to be the cause of it.

“It’s been years.” There’s the crack in your voice again, your next words a little too rushed. “I love you. You’re sweet. You’re so sweet, kind and loyal.”

Everything Leon wasn’t.

“I said, do you love Leon?”

You stare deep into Chris’ eyes then, his lips pressed together in a thin line. There had been something when Leon had kissed you less than an hour ago, how easily you’d almost fallen back into threading your fingers into his hair to deepen it, how your heartbeat had remained elevated since.

Leon is a wildcard and Chris is steady, dependable – everything you should want.

Everything you’ve been convincing yourself you did want.

One more look into your fiancee’s eyes is all it takes. He doesn’t deserve this but he does deserve the truth.

You take a shuddering breath and nod.

“I’m sorry, I-“

“Right.” Chris nods, as casual as if he’s just been given his latest set of orders. He turns on his heels and heads back down the aisle – the aisle he was meant to be walking down with you on his arm as his new wife – with his head and shoulders held high, Claire hurrying after him, dropping your bouquet as she does.

As you stare at his retreating form, Leon slips his hand into yours and squeezes.

And, as tears begin to stream down your face again, you squeeze back.

--

He drove you away from the venue on his bike, your cheek pressed firmly against his back and your veil floating behind you in the wind.

Cars honked in celebration around you, all under the impression that a husband was taking his new wife for a celebratory ride, not that the best man had just absconded with the bride.

He takes you back to his apartment, a thing he’d never done when you were ‘together’, but it made sense now, considering. You lived with Chris, a two-storey on a cul-de-sac, white picket fence – you could hardly go back there today.

Or ever.

“What can I do, sweetheart?” Leon asks, cautiously, as you both stand in his living room a few feet apart. It feels more like a show-home than your place – no personal affects, the coffee table empty besides a remote control for the widescreen.  

“I… I need to get out of this.” You huff, ripping the veil from your scalp at last, the pins holding it in place scattering over his polished wooden floor and you fling it down on the sofa. You know you won’t be able to undo your dress yourself so you turn, flustered. “I can’t…”

“I’ve got you, it’s okay.” Leon soothes, closing the gap between the two of you and deftly unpicking the laces of the corset with nimble fingers. You feel it loosen immediately, but it doesn’t ease the suffocating feeling in your chest.

“There.” The dress drops a little and you quickly wrap your arms around yourself, keeping it up, before Leon steps around the coffee table, heading towards the hallway. “I’ll… I’ll grab you a change of clothes.”

Your clothes, right. They’re all at yours.

Oh, God, how are you going to get them?

How could you ever face Chris again?

You remain standing in the living room, forcing yourself to breathe deeply. You can hear Leon opening and closing some drawers, obviously looking for something that you can wear. He emerges a few moments later, holding a grey sweatshirt and some black gym shorts.

“I think these will work. Shorts have a drawstring, so…”

“Where’s the bathroom?”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry, down the hall, second door on your left.”

You take the clothes from his hand, avoiding eye contact and head to change. Your hands are shaking as you turn the lock, quickly shedding your dress and wedding night lingerie – not how you thought you’d be removing it tonight, that’s for sure, but you can’t bear to keep any of it on. Finally, you slide a lacey white garter off your thigh and bundle everything together into a ball, placing it on top of one of the two laundry baskets in the corner, noting he separates lights and darks.

You pull the sweatshirt over your head – it feels odd, oversized but not as oversized as any of the things you’d stolen from Chris’ dresser – before putting on the shorts and double-knotting the cord to keep them up.

You wet your face in the sink next, washing off your make-up as best you can. A glint catches your eye from your right hand – your engagement ring moved over in preparation for the wedding ring being slipped on.

You’ll need to return it.

Carefully, you pull it off your finger and place it on the sink, undoing the latch on the necklace Chris had sent Leon up with – does he regret that now? Is he sat somewhere with a whiskey, mulling over what would be different if he hadn’t sent his best man to the bridal suite? - and thread it through the chain, fastening it back around your neck and tucking it under the sweatshirt, out of sight.

You don’t want to wear it, really, the idea making you feel sick being adorned with gifts that Chris had picked out lovingly - but you don’t want to lose it somewhere in Leon’s apartment either.

Leon is still standing in the same place in the living room when you emerge, the only difference being his tie is now off and thrown over the coffee table, one hand in his pocket. You stop a couple of feet in front of him and stare, trying to read his gaze.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t set out to say those things, baby. I just-” You throw yourself into his arms, sobbing – for what’s just occurred and for how horrible you feel when being in his arms immediately just feels so right, more natural than being wrapped in Chris’ ever did.

Leon presses kisses to your crown, pulls you back and down onto the sofa and hooks your legs up into his lap, rocking you back and forth like a child who needs consoling.

“It’s all right. It’ll be okay. And I’ll be better, I promise.” He murmurs against your ear when your sobs begin to slow, his white shirt significantly damp with your abundance of tears. “I’m not fucking up again. Not after this, baby. I’ll spend every damn day showing you how serious I am about you, about us.”

--

Chris remains a gentleman, despite everything. The first you hear from him is one week after the wedding, via email, letting you know that he’ll be out of the house for a few days if you’d like to go in and collect your things. He’s going to put the house on the market after, said he’s taken a new position within the BSAA and will be permanently relocating to the European branch, so doesn’t see the point in keeping it empty. It’s not surprising, really, Chris has been headhunted a couple of times since his work in Europe, but he’d always wanted to remain on American soil, with you.

He adds he’s going to sell the furniture as a job lot too, so to take anything you like and then leave the keys under the doormat once you’re done.

He signs it best regards.

He’s too nice for what you’ve done to him.

A fact Claire had reminded you of daily – scornful text messages and voicemails telling you exactly what she thinks of you and Leon. They cease only after Chris can be heard in the background of the final voicemail, telling her to stop.

You’re living in a short-term rental when you pick up your things – not that you would’ve taken any of the furniture anyway. You’d stayed at Leon’s for a week after, sleeping in his spare room. He’d returned to the venue and picked up the things you’d left in the bridal suite as you lay in bed, festering in the horrible combination of guilt and relief of what had transpired.

Leon wanted you to move in permanently, but you told him it was too much, too soon. You made demands this time, wanting to take it slow but also testing the limits of how much he had meant it when he said things would be different, that he would be different.

You were selfish with them at first – he had to date you properly, take you out for lunch, coffee and dinner dates, walks around the park, weekend trips away and trips to the movies, hold your hand and kiss you in public.

You told him you wanted him to try therapy, to learn how to communicate.

And, to his credit, he does it all. He hates the first three therapists, only managing a session or two with them, but he keeps going until he clicks with the fourth and sees them every Wednesday – always reschedules for another day of the week if he’s away with work.

You’re never sure how he’s going to be immediately after – sometimes he emerges with the weight of the world resting even more heavily on his shoulders, other times he seems to have a pep in his step until, gradually, he comes out lighter and lighter every time.

He tells you he loves you when you make a dumb joke over dinner in a cheesy diner – so loud in his proclamation that the waitress gives the two of you a slice of pie each on the house, extra whipped cream.

There are things he’s still uncomfortable with but he’s better at communicating, each of you compromising as you settle into the relationship.

“Do you want to get married?” He murmurs in your ear one night a year and a half later, spooning you against his bare chest. The bedroom has a pile of moving boxes stacked in the corner - your first night in your new, shared apartment.

“Honestly? I don’t know,” you take one of his hands, fidget with his fingers. “What about you?”

“I don’t mind either way,” he grasps hold of your wrist and rolls you over in a smooth notion. “Whatever you want.”

“Uh-uh,” you correct, “we’re partners, remember?”

“Right. Whatever we want.” He kisses you then, slowly, as if he has the whole night to while away. He’s never in a rush when it comes to you, not any more.

“I love you.” You mumble between kisses, feeling him smile as he captures your lips once again.

“I love you, sweetheart. Always and forever.”

--

“Leon?”

“Huh?” He’s spaced out – Chris, Claire, the minister and you all staring expectantly at him.

“Got the rings, man?” Chris is holding out his hand, an amused smile on his face.

Right, the rings.

Best man hands over the rings.

He stuffs his hand into his trouser pocket and tugs out the little mesh bag they’d been placed in. He can’t imagine Chris wearing his for long, not with his line of work. Leon wouldn’t either, truth be told. He’d get a nice chain, maybe, have it hang over his heart.

Chris takes the bag with a nod of thanks and empties them out onto the minister’s book, big fingers fumbling to pick up the ring he’s about to slide on your finger, following the minister’s prompts in reciting his vows.

Leon stares at you as you look up into Chris’ eyes, smiling so much your cheeks must hurt, and tries not to think about how when you had looked at him like that, he’d left you the next morning with nothing but a note on the pillow.

--

“Now, ladies and gentlemen, if you would please be upstanding for the new Mr and Mrs Redfield!”

Leon hadn’t realized he’d be sat next to you at the top table. He hadn’t thought much about the reception at all, besides the speech Chris asked him to make.

But, fuck, you look so happy walking in with him that it takes his breath away. Your fingers interlaced, surrounded by cheers and applause. Redfield can’t help himself – Leon wouldn’t either - swings you around and dips you into a kiss in the middle of the floor. You look embarrassed when he releases you, but there’s a giddy smile on your face too.

He couldn’t give you that. He couldn’t. He’s not sure Redfield can either – setting you up for disappointment and heartbreak.

He doesn’t know why anyone else is seated at the top table – you and Chris only have eyes for each other throughout dinner. He drinks more than he eats, wondering if he can make Redfield regret putting on an open bar.

“Now, for the best man – Leon Kennedy.”

He pulls the notecard out of his jacket pocket as he stands - he’d started writing it so many times but never got particularly far. That morning, he’d searched generic best man speech on his phone and jotted it down.

“You’ll be pleased to know that I’ll be keeping this short and sweet – two words you probably wouldn’t use to describe Chris Redfield.” He pauses, polite laughter rippling through the crowd.

“There’s two things being celebrated here today. The first being that it’s finally been acknowledged that I am, in fact, the best man between us.” He pauses again, taking a pre-emptive swig of his drink to help dull the ache of the words to come.

“Secondly, of course, the union of this… wonderful couple. May your lives be filled with love and happiness. To the bride and groom!”

The guests raise their glass in unison and Leon sits down heavily in his seat, downing the rest of his drink as Chris stands up, thanking Leon for his speech and leading an applause. He picks up a champagne flute and looks down at you, adoringly.

“Truthfully, I’m wondering if I should’ve gone first, because mine’s even shorter than Leon’s. Thank you all so much for coming here today to celebrate with us. All that’s really left to say is, I love you, darling – always and forever.”

Chris bends down to steal another kiss and the guests applaud and cheer once again – Leon swears it’s louder than what his speech received.

“I love you so much, Chris.”

Leon wishes it had been louder still to drown out your response.

--

“You ready?” Chris murmurs into your ear before pressing a kiss against your jaw. You didn’t think it was possible – you’d never seen Chris drunk ever – but it seems the numerous glasses of champagne have gotten to his head. He’ll deny it in the morning if you accuse him, tell you it wasn’t the alcohol which was making him act that way, no, it was you that was making him love-drunk, before capturing your lips in a kiss.

You nod and squirm with a giggle, his stubble tickling your neck. You had sat down at the table for a breather, after completing a round of the tables to greet your guests as well as a couple of dances with your friends. You haven’t seen Leon since dinner and, truthfully, he’s the furthest thing from your mind ever since Chris slipped the ring on your finger. Your new husband takes your hand and grabs a chair with the other, leading you to the middle of the small dance floor and places it down. Once he’s happy, he lifts his other arm above his head to twirl you into position and down upon the chair.

You feel giddy – from love, champagne, happiness – as Chris kneels before you and gently begins to lift the hem of your dress up and over your knees.

Someone in the crowd wolf-whistles, probably one of the squad, and Chris turns in the direction to mockingly glare. He then resumes his work of pulling your dress up a little more, cautiously, until he found what he was looking for – a lacey white garter on your thigh.

Chris asking if you wanted to do the garter toss part of the ceremony had come completely out of left-field, so much so you were thankful you hadn’t taken a sip of your drink before he’d asked, lest you had spit it out in his face. He scratched the back of his head, gave you a dopey-looking smile that made you want to cuddle him rotten and said he wanted to do things by the book. He wanted the tradition, some sense of normalcy in his life with the whole white wedding, and having no strong feelings about it either way you’d agreed.

Now, though, as he looks up at you with that up-to-no-good smirk, you wonder if you should’ve said no.

“Hands or teeth?”

“Huh?”

He lightly pings the garter on your thigh. “Shall I remove it with my hands or teeth, darling?”

“Chris!” You laugh, sure he was joking.

He tilts his head. “Uh-uh. Pick, please.”

“Fine.” You smirk back, buoyed in confidence by the champagne. “Teeth.”

“Excellent choice, Mrs Redfield.” He plants a hand on your other leg to steady himself, before lowering his head and you feel his teeth graze your thigh as he nips the lacey material and begins to tug it down, all to the hooting and hollering of the assembled crowd.  

Leon takes a long sip of whiskey as he watches from the corner. He would’ve used his teeth to remove it too, but only in the sanctity of the bedroom later that night.

It flies over the heads and outstretched arms of the bachelors – Chris always did have a good throw - and eventually smacks Leon right in the chest.

“All right, Kennedy!” Somebody cheers, and before he can really think about it, he bends down and snatches up the garter, aware that the eyes of the room are on him. He holds it aloft in a mock display of triumph.

He looks for you then, wondering what you’ll think – a sign from the universe that you’ve made a mistake – but your eyes are fixed on Chris, cupping his face in your palms as he remains knelt in front of you, pressing a long kiss to his lips.

Leon stuffs the garter deep in his trouser pocket.

--

Leon doesn’t see either of you for six months – thanks to a relentless run of missions, intercontinental travel and briefings all keeping his mind occupied – and it helps dull the ache in his chest too.

An email pops up in his inbox though, inviting him to the Redfield’s housewarming BBQ in a couple of weeks, but he never replies to the RSVP.

Still, he finds himself parking his bike up outside the new house – it has a white picket fence, for fuck’s sake, nestled on a quiet suburban street. To his trained eye, he can see some additional security measures, so at least Redfield hasn’t become completely complacent. The gate clicks a little louder than usual when he opens it, probably linked to some sort of surveillance system, the panes of glass in the window are clearly bullet-proof and the front door is steel, disguised to blend in with the rest of the street.

He rings the doorbell – looking direct into the pinhole camera.

Chris answers soon after, a black apron on for grilling duties over blue jeans and a white tee. He looks good, annoyingly so compared to the dark rings Leon has under his own eyes, but he’s perhaps a little softer around the edges. Leon had heard down the grapevine that Chris had taken more of a consultant type role at the BSAA, office hours, trying to move away from always having his boots on the ground – something he never thought he’d see.

“Hey! You made it. It’s great to see you, man.” Chris greets him, a genuine smile on his face. “Perfect timing – I’m just about to fire up the grill. We’re all just out in the yard.”

He steps over the threshold – his eyes immediately finding the framed wedding photo on the hall table, the one where you’d all signed the registry and the photographer had Leon stand by your side and Claire by Chris’.

He wonders if, when you look at it, you can tell his smile is fake.

He doesn’t take in much else of the house as he’s led through, instead forcing himself to take a deep breath in preparation of seeing you again. He’s tried to forget about the kiss through a string of dates from the office and one-night stands, but he still has your stolen garter tucked in the back of his bedside drawer.

It’s over, he chastises himself.

It didn’t even really begin either.

You’re facing away from him when he follows Chris through the kitchen and out onto wooden decking, a set of stairs leading down to a large rectangle of grass. There’s a good 15 or so in attendance, only a handful of people present that he recognizes, some from the wedding, all congregated in little groups, a long table set up with bowls of salad, chips, rolls, sauces and other snacks, a bucket of ice, rapidly melting in the midday sun, in which various drinks are nestled.

You’re talking to Claire and a guy he doesn’t recognize, but he has his arm draped around her shoulders. You’re dressed in a sweet floral sundress, capped sleeves, white sandals. He wants to slip in to the conversation, no fuss, no announcement, but Chris has other ideas.

“Hey, Leon’s here!”

You turn at your husband’s call, a little surprised. Chris had told you he’d invited Leon, of course, but noted that he hadn’t accepted or denied. Really, you weren’t sure if he’d show at all, given what had happened at the wedding and the fact he’d been off-grid for so long after.

Those bright blue eyes only meet yours for a moment before they trail down to your stomach, and the protective hand you’ve placed on top of it – only a recent habit since your bump had properly popped.

“Oh, yeah,” Chris chuckles, clocking on to exactly what Leon is staring at. He slaps him on the back, ushering him forward as he does. Leon wants to dig his heels in, maybe if he keeps his distance it won’t be real and only a trick of perspective, but his legs won’t co-operate.

“Sorry, should’ve said - turns out we brought more back than souvenirs from the honeymoon.”

Claire groans. “Are you going to use that line on everyone, Chris? It’s too early for you to be cracking out dad jokes.” She takes a swig of her beer, before nodding at Leon. “Hey.”

Leon nods in Claire’s direction, but his eyes are still fixed on you.

“Leon.” You smile, a little worried at how much colour has drained from the agent’s face. “We’re so glad you could make it. It’s been ages!”

“I…” He swallows, shaking his head a little as if he could shake off the feeling of disbelief. “Congratulations. On the house and the… baby.”

Redfield smirks as he steps over from Leon’s side to yours, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you in close to press a kiss to your temple. “Thanks, bud. Gotta admit, I’m feeling a pretty lucky guy.”

“The luckiest.”

Chris cocks his head at the lack of sarcasm, almost put off by how genuine Leon sounded.

“Sorry, is there any more beer?” Someone he doesn’t recognize – one of yours or Chris’ other friends, maybe – interrupts.

“Of course! I’ll go get it.” You barely make it a step out of Chris’ embrace before he wraps his hand around your arm and stills you with a furrowed brow.

“Babe, we tal-“

“We talked about me carrying heavy things.” You correct with a feigned huff. “The baby will be heavier than a box of beer.”

Chris looks apologetic. “All I was gonna say is you need to be careful – don’t want you wearing yourself out and missing the party.” Leon feels a stabbing pain once again in his chest as he watches Redfield cup your face, caressing your cheek with his thumb. “Let’s be honest, darling, you’re usually on your second nap by this time.”

You pout, more so annoyed that Chris is right. The move, plus the second trimester had you feeling permanently fatigued. “True, but-”

“Let me go grab the beer,” Leon interrupts and Chris drops his hand from your face, as if he just realized Leon was still there. “Just tell me where.”

You frown at his offer. “You’re a guest.”

“A lousy guest - didn’t even bring a housewarming gift,” he berates himself. “Being the beer lackey can be it.”

“You didn’t need to get us anything – your company’s gift enough.” You place a hand on his arm and squeeze in reassurance - he swears his heart skips a beat. “It’s probably easier if I show you where. Come on.”

“Thanks, Leon.” Chris pats him on the back and turns to the grill, declaring it hot enough to finally start cooking.

Leon follows you, dutifully, back up the steps onto the decking, one hand poised ready to steady you if need be. You lead him towards the opposite end of the kitchen and towards the pantry, hesitating before you open the door.

“I’m sorry, if this was a shock.” You jerk your chin down at your stomach. “We were just sorta telling people as and when we saw them, rather than do any real big announcement.”

“Yet you announced the house?”

You smile, wryly. “I think Chris just wanted an excuse to buy that grill. He’s trying out lots of hobbies. I caught him looking up ride-on mowers the other night.”

“Heard he’s office-based now.” There’s a beat and it comes out before he can even think, always ready to justify his actions even when no-one’s called for it. “I couldn’t have done that for you.”

Suddenly, you’re thrown back to that hour before your wedding – something you truthfully hadn’t thought of until this moment.

“You think I asked Chris to do that? That I demanded a wedding and a house and a baby and…” Your voice cracks a little before you take a deep breath. Your emotions are high strung enough at the moment with the pregnancy and you try to compose yourself, digging your nails into your palms.

“You know what? No – I’m not going through this again. Relationships are about compromises on both sides, it’s unfortunate that’s what you still don’t seem to understand.”

You slide open the pantry door then, pointing to the back where a couple of boxes of beer are stacked, in amongst tubs of protein powder. “Just grab any of those, please. I’ll see you outside.”

Leon’s hand wraps around your wrist as you step away. It isn’t a firm grip by any means, just holding you loosely in place. “Just tell me one thing - are you happy?”

“I’m really happy, Leon.” You reply without a beat’s hesitation, because you are. “I hope one day you allow yourself to be happy too.”

He doesn’t say anything to that, only drops his grip on your wrist and turns into the pantry in the guise of retrieving the beer. It’s only when he hears you step back out onto the decking that he bends to pick up the box, half wondering if he should just quietly leave now.

No, that would only cause you grief, surely. He’s done enough of that.

After a few moments have passed, he lifts up the box and heads out, pulling the door shut to the pantry behind him. He heads back out into the yard, pausing at the top of the stairs to see you back at your husband’s side, laughing at something he’s said, looking up at him like he’s everything.

Chris wraps his arms around you, helping you up to your tip-toes so he can kiss you as passionately as he did on the wedding day, and every day since.

Claire wonders, loudly, whether your honeymoon phase will ever be over, but she’s smiling as she says it.

Leon silently carries over the box and opens it, adding a couple more cans of beer to the ice bucket before Claire hands him an open one, proposing a toast to the new house and baby Redfield.

Instead, Leon toasts to the life he could’ve had.

--

Masterlist . Requests welcome . Ko-fi

Comments and reblogs make my whole day x

[whereubeenloca]

Hallways

Part 5 of the Neighbor! Reader series: Table of contents

Summary: On your way to work you run into someone new...

Pairing: Carmy x Reader

Tags: VERY slow burn, Awkward, Claire mention

Word Count: 1153

Wanna be added to the tag list? Let me know!

Tag List: @criesinlies

The last few weeks had been cold and your broken radiator didn’t help. As the temperature dropped, it became harder and harder for you to leave the warm confides of your bed. It was nearly 8:45 by the time you stumbled your way out the door, 15 minutes later than you usually leave. You give yourself a quick pat-down, wallet, keys, phone, laptop, ready. Just as you’re about to step out onto the shared staircase, you hear footsteps clamor from above. You smile at the sound of steps, it wasn’t often you ran into Carmy on your way to work. You rack your brain for something to say as he walks by, but the words die on your tongue as you’re met with someone else. 

A woman, a stranger. Long black hair spills down her shoulders, a puffer tightly zipped up to her neck. Her skin is pale, eyes big, cheeks perfectly pink. Your smile drops a bit as your eyes meet. Blue eyes flick to yours, her lips flick up into a polite smile, you’re quick to copy it. 

“Sorry.” The mystery woman says softly, you wave it off as she hurries down the steps and out the front door. 

Who the fuck was that.

—

Your mind races as you speed walk to the “L”, a stone's throw away from little miss whoever that is. Oh god, are you a creep? No. She’s the one who’s taking your route to work. You aren’t even following her. God, she’s walking slow. You can feel yourself getting closer, debating if it would be weirder to pass her or stay behind her. You awkwardly weave around her and quickly cut over to the staircase, unfortunately she follows you onto the platform.

You try not to stare at her while you’re on the subway, training your eyes on the window right next to her. She scrolls on her phone as she sprawls out in her seat, you grip the railing tighter as the train sways. He never mentioned a girlfriend before. That’s because you aren’t friends, dummy. Rude, whatever, ugh. You take a deep breath as the man to your left decides to fill the car with blueberry scented vape smoke. You choke back a cough and what’s-her-face decides to look up from her phone. Suddenly, your shoes are the most interesting thing on the planet. 

What do you care? It’s not like you’re seeing the guy. No, of course not. He’s your neighbor and it’s well within his right to see who he pleases. Obviously. You barely even talk when you think about it. You didn’t even know his name until last month. You have no ownership to this man so why, why, does this feel so weird?

You chance a look and she’s back to her phone. Her legs are spread too far apart for a subway this crowded. Fucking hate when people do that, where is she even going? Nowhere, probably- woah, no. Women supporting women, she didn’t do anything to you. No, but that’s rude. We’re like fucking sardines in here and she’s taking up so much space, inconsiderate, fucking- Suddenly she stands, ushering an old woman who just got onto the train over to her seat. Her smile is bright as she makes polite small talk with the stranger. Your stomach twists as your stop approaches. Asshole.

—

The day was longer than you thought it would be. You ended up being twenty minutes late to work completely frazzled, a half assed excuse on your lips. Your mind buzzes as you stare at your outlook, mindlessly filing emails to pass the time. It’s embarrassing, really. Had you left at your regular time you would be none the wiser. You mourn your blissful ignorance as your co-worker pops her head in to ask yet another question. 

By the time you hobble home you’re dead on your feet. The wind whips your hair around you as you fight your way home from the subway. Flurries of snow dance around your head as you unlock the door and shove your way inside. 

“Woah, hey.” You hear a voice call out as you poke your head in. Carmy. 

“Oh shit- sorry.” You half laugh as he stumbles away from his mailbox to make room for the door. 

“No, no that’s my bad.” He says with a smile, envelopes tucked between his palms. 

The door closes behind you with a loud thunk. You busy your hands with the heavy lock. 

“You, usually home this early?” You ask over your shoulder. 

“Nope. Renovations.” He beams, you don’t think you’ve ever heard him this excited. 

“No shit, really?” You smile back, running your hands over your hair in an attempt to look even slightly presentable. 

“Yeah. It’s- I mean, it sucks and it’s stressful… but I think it’ll be really good you know?” He fiddles with the papers in his hands, bending the stack of bills over and over. 

All you can do is nod as you soak him in. Your eyes settle onto his face, a smile is spread across his cheeks so wide it crinkles his eyes a bit. It’s cute, you aren’t sure you’ve seen him smile like that before. 

“Congrats.” You smile softly “When uh- are you guys planning on opening?” You ask as you walk to your own mailbox. 

“Little over a month left.” His words sound more like a sigh as he rocks back onto his heels. “It’s been a lot.” 

“I bet.” You hum back, retrieving your own envelopes. “I loved the food you gave me last week by the way, oh my god.” 

“Yeah?” He asks, cheeks flushing at the praise.

“Oh yeah. If you have any more leftovers please send them my way.” You laugh, lightly tapping the toe of your shoe to his. He laughs at the action, raising a tattooed hand up to his face to cover his smile. 

“I might have to start charging you.” He jokes. 

“Well maybe I should come by.” You respond back. 

A huff of air leaves his lips as the conversation stills. He shifts his weight from foot to foot, teeth digging into his cheek in an attempt to subdue his grin. Despite how much you want to, you don’t let yourself stare. Your gaze flicks to the envelopes in your hands for a split second before meeting his stare. 

“Well uh. I should probably…” You say, tilting your head toward the staircase he’s currently blocking. 

“Oh- yeah, yes.” Carmy laughs awkwardly as he steps to the side. “My bad.” 

“Goodnight, Carmy.” You smile, “Good luck with the restaurant.” 

“Thank you. I uh- will.” He says awkwardly, clearing his throat and thumbing through his mail. “Night.” He finishes, a little too far away. You’re already at your door by the time he decides to say it. 

You smile to yourself as you move through your apartment. 

This is gonna suck.

[crsssie]

from one admirer to another : boiled?

pairing: leon kennedy x reader || masterpost: from one admirer to another

synopsis: from one admirer to another, an online penpal service, allows for two people with common interests to write to each other without ever revealing their actual address! Luckily for both you and Leon, you get matched up! What do eggs and Christmas even have in common anyway? sure hope it's that modeling business and NOT that Ada Wong addiction.

featuring: reader as scrambled eggs // leon as christmas

Dear scrambled eggs,

My letter's going to be shorter than usual today. Sorry in advance.

Sesame bun sounds adorable. I like the little artist rendition graced upon my letter haha. Little cutie. She sounds like the sweetest little thing, but I can't imagine the house being pitch black and hearing something meow at you from the abyss. Though, I'm sure that isn't much of a problem in Raccoon. The district that you live in sounds like it's downtown.

Tell you about my friends... well, I entered the agency at the same time as Claire (Chris' sister, also another rising model) and we did a bunch of shoots together at first. We bonded over our love for bikes at first, and then through her, I met Chris and then Jill. I wouldn't say we're super close, but we're friends. (I hope)

I don't have anything to send to you, but I did manage to snag an invitation to the runway show coming up from all Raccoon city models. It's an annual thing, and everyone signed under the Raccoon city companies walk. I'm one of the first walkers this time around, so I really hope you can come watch.

Please? Christmas

Everything passes in a blur.

Leon is dressed and decorated, makeup perfect on his skin as he hangs around the backstage of the event while everyone files in. Three changes of clothes, most of which are sponsored by upper brands. He hasn't gotten a brand deal yet, but there have been people reaching out already.

"You alright?"

"Just the usual nerves." Leon sighs.

"Never gets old." Jill sighs. "Claire?"

"I think I'll be fine. I'm in the latter half with Chris, so at least I'll be walking with someone I know."

"You're allowed to have fun this walk too." Jill nods. "Find a partner to do the final walk with when all the investors are gone."

"You have someone?" Leon raises a brow. Claire's obviously going to run out with Chris.

"Carlos."

"Ah, right." Leon mumbles. "In the corner of his eye, he catches you, and he excuses himself with a stumble. God, being in love is crazy.

"... so I threw a fit at her manager because WHAT DO YOU MEAN I CAN'T WALK WITH HER?!"

"Sorry, princesa. I'd walk with you, but my contract states I've got to be alone on all walks. Gotta keep up the ladies' man thing."

"God, I hope Ada's manager burns in hell. I'll be her manager or something. What do you mean you need her to walk with Wesker even when it's just the normal models? Piece of sh—"

"Mind walking with me, then?"

Leon's voice makes you jolt, stumbling as Luis steadies you.

"You scared me." You sigh, nodding at Luis as he smiles. "What?"

"Walk with me?"

"You're not bound under contract to walk alone?"

"Not at the end. They didn't push the bachelor title onto me. I joined after they stopped that."

"Great! Let's run out together at the end." You give him a thumbs up.

"Problem solved?"

"Nice doing, sancho." Luis winks, and Leon ignores it, nodding at you before rushing to his position.

"Did they agree?" Claire raises a brow knowingly, and Leon groans.

"Yeah."

Leon forgets how his walk went. He knows he did a good job from the look of the investors and his agent, but that's about it. Even when he goes for a second and third walk out in different clothes, everything is muscle memory and not conscious. All he can think of is running out with you at the end. Was it a little bit childish of him? Maybe, but he would be walking with you.

He's never been so glad male-female relationships are so normalized in his company.

"Ready?"

"Yeah." You tug at the clothes given to you for the final walk, adjusting Leon's to match as they call out the pairings. People walked alone, but it was a little sad to walk alone unless you were given the title of bachelor.

"How big are your steps? We need to match pacing, no?"

Leon meets eyes with Ada before she's out with Wesker, and he swallows at her side-eye. She doesn't like him all that much, he thinks.

"Don't worry about her." You laugh, patting his bicep. "She's just angry she can't walk with me."

"No, that was definitely a warning to stay away from you."

You tap your chin. "Maybe. But that's only because she cares about me. Don't worry, she doesn't hate you."

"Leon Kennedy!"

"Let's go." He offers you his hand, and you mock a bow, letting him tug and spin you around the runway. For extra drama, he dips you at the very end of the runway to earn a laugh from you, letting the two of you waterfall to the sides as everyone else files to the front for a selfie.

America's sweetheart, Ashley Graham, ends up at the very front of the crew, taking the .5 as she manages to get everyone in the photo, numbers and photos sent to each other as Ashley goes around asking who wants it.

Leon steps up, nodding. "Thank you."

"Of course! Leon, was it? I think I joined a little after you."

"Yeah. Am I that recognizable?"

"More or less. You don't exactly have a face that blends in."

"I suppose." Leon thanks her as the photo is sent to his, and the rest of his friends file over for the photo too.

Oh, he should take the chance to— where did you go?

prev letter : masterlist : next letter

[ninigummysmile]

𝐏𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 - 𝐉𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐨

Summary: You love your girlfriend and her punishments when she's jealous

Dom!Jisoo x Sub!Fem!Reader

Category: Smut

Warning: This story contains +18 content. It is not the responsibility of the author if minors read it.

Important: English is not my first language so, please, forgive me if there are any mistakes

Words: 1.376

Your relationship with Jisoo is by far the healthiest you've ever had. She's everything you've ever wanted, sweet, kind, respectful and just ask her and she gonna do everything in her power to see you happy.

Hardly she gets jealous because she trusts you and knows you don't care when some people have ulterior motives. But when she gets jealous, she shuts herself off completely, says little, and her aura changes. Rarely have you seen her like this and just imagining it sends a shiver down your spine.

She only punished you twice, her domineering side peaked those times. Jisoo is a natural dominatrix, but when she reaches her limit it can be scary for other people to see her that way.

You love it when she's careful in bed, but sometimes it's hard to convince her to fuck you harder when you want to, because she's afraid of hurting you and so you'll take the risk and try to get her to give you exactly what you want tonight.

A party, in a dark environment, loud music and a lot of people is the right time to put pressure on Jisoo and make her feel like showing everyone that you are hers and hers only.

You don't usually go to these kinds of parties, even more so after you started dating, but because it was an invitation from a close friend, you decided to accept.

“I'm going to get us something to drink” she says in your ear so you can hear her. If it were any other time, you'd go with her so you don't get lost, but since you left your house you're dripping with desire and want to ease the pain between your legs.

It's weird to be standing in the middle of so many people dancing, so you start rocking back and forth while waiting for your girlfriend. It doesn't take long for your friend Claire to find you.

“Hi, I'm glad you came” she greets you and turns to the man next to her. “This is my brother, Henry”

After greeting the two, your girlfriend stops by your side handing you your drink. The four of you chat until Claire goes to the bathroom and you start talking more directly to Henry. You don't talk much, but you start to get impatient to get to your end goal and you start tapping his biceps lightly, come closer to talk with the loud sound excuse and laugh at whatever he says.

You look out of the corner of your eye at Jisoo, she arches her eyebrows and gives you a look that you know very well with the one that says “you better stop here”.

You don't want to piss her off, you just want to make her so fierce that she fucks you over and over again until you're not able to walk for a long time and if that's the only way to do it, you go all the way.

From her attitude you can see that she is not in her comfort zone anymore. She wraps one of her arms around your back and places her hand on your waist, squeezing lightly. You ignore her and try to look as interested in Henry's life as possible.

After long minutes, she looks tired and sighs deeply. “Henry, if you'll excuse us, we go talk to a friend” she tries to sound neutral and pulls your hand without waiting for the boy's answer.

“Who do you want to talk to?”

She stops abruptly and turns to you. “Don't be silly now, I'll give you exactly what you want. You've already pissed me off enough to earn a punishment, it's been a while since you've gotten one and you seem to have forgotten what it's like” her eyes are pupil dilated and anyone seeing her like that would be worried about her words, but for you, the words satisfy you and go straight to your core.

Jisoo guides you to the second floor and walks through the long corridor and stops in front of a random door in the hope of being a bedroom.

She opens the door and a small room with low, dim lights and a couch is revealed.

“Perfect” she murmurs and closes the door behind her.

She sits on the couch and calls you. “Come on, isn't that what you wanted? Let's not waste time”

You stop in front of her, between her knees and she pulls you down so that you lie down with your torso pressed into the sofa and your ass at her disposal on top of her thighs.

Without bothering to unbutton your pants, she pulls the material down to your mid-thigh. “Count for me, pretty girl. You know how it works”

Lightly squeezing your butt cheeks, she raises a hand a considerable distance away and slaps it. You sigh in surprise and your eyes want to fill with tears from the burning, but it's your pussy that cries making you get wetter and wetter.

“One” you whimper already anticipating the next slap.

“Two” you feel the impact on your other cheek.

After twenty slaps, your body starts to ache from the position you're lying in and the little punishment.

“I'm not done yet, my love” she says after pulling your hair in a ponytail making you moan desperately. “Let's see what I can do with that little pussy of yours"

Pushing your panties to the side, she feels your liquid leak between your legs and drip onto her dress. “Look at the mess you are making, you know how much I like that dress”

You try to close your legs even more in search of some friction, but you are stopped. “None of that, spread your legs for me”

You feel her fingers massage your crotch and you whimper wanting to be touched where you need it most soon.

She makes the number two with her fingers and between them she holds your pussy going back and forth. You roll your eyes and an unconscious smile appears at finally being touched. Your hips move trying to match the rhythm of her fingers. “If you keep moving, I will stop”

Immediately you stand still and when you least expect it two fingers enter you easily making you lose your breath momentarily. They move slowly and make you want to cry in frustration.

“What it was? I'm touching you and you still want to complain?” she knows you so well, every sign your body gives. “You were acting like the owner of the outside world, wanting to tease me and now you're nothing but my fuck toy. You're lucky your punishment isn't worse than that”

She goes back to holding your hair in a ponytail pulling it until your head is as high as possible and quickens the rhythm of her hand. It's inevitable to hold back every moan and scream of pleasure. “Yes, moan loudly so everyone down there knows you're mine. You are mine, understand? And it's not even a brat that's gonna make you feel like I do”

Your orgasm is one step away from exploding when she curls her fingers and finds your most sensitive spot causing tears to run down your cheeks.

You squeeze her so hard that it's hard for her fingers to move and she pulls them out of your pussy. You catch your breath waiting for her to come back so you can come. She's done this before, makes you come closer several times before you can finally cum, but tonight she has other plans.

“You know I don't like to punish you, you know more than anyone how much I like to see and hear you come. But today will be different, you'll have to come alone. Put your clothes back on and we go home”

She gently lifts you off her and waits for you on the other side of the door while you get ready.

On the way home the only thought that runs through your head is that no matter how much you love your jealous and domineering girlfriend, you love it even more when she makes you come and you won't tease her like that anymore. At least for a while.

[plumeriacosmos]

who's gonna break the tension, baby? (i kinda like it, maybe)

I couldn't get this idea out of my head, and I still can't stop laughing at Claire's delivery, so hear home some polin shenanigans

“Look at the state of you,” she said haughtily, putting a hand on her hip. “I never asked you to marry me. Never in my life did I expect you to ask me to be your wife. I wouldn’t even dare to call you worthy to be my husband.”

AO3 link

-x-

or Penelope hears the love of her life swear that he would never marry her, so she has some choice words for him. Alas, Colin is at his core, a Bridgerton who does not know how to back down from a challenge.

“... and I am certainly not going to marry Penelope Featherington!”

“Oh!” She couldn’t help but exclaim. Immediately, the three brothers turned to her, surprise etched on their faces the same way that hers was. Soon, Colin’s face turned red, his mouth opening and closing as if he was trying to say something, making excuses that she couldn’t even be bothered to listen.

“Not going to marry me,” she repeated softly, and slowly she felt her face scrunch up in disgust and anger. She looked directly into Colin’s eyes. She could see there was shame and other emotion she couldn’t decipher, but Penelope was filled with annoyance; she didn’t even try to figure them out.

“Look at the state of you,” she said haughtily, putting a hand on her hip. “I never asked you to marry me. Never in my life did I expect you to ask me to be your wife. I wouldn’t even dare to call you worthy to be my husband.” 

She watched as Colin began to splutter. His face, which was already pink, seemed to have turned red. Anthony and Benedict were trying to hide their sniggers from where they stood behind him, and even Benedict was biting his knuckle to refrain himself from laughing out loud.

Penelope felt some sense of victory, some pride in being able to ignore the sound of her breaking heart, and leaving him out of words. There were many ways she could have handled this, but she was happy that this was how it turned out. 

“Excuse me?” Colin said, an incredulous expression on his face. “‘Not worthy to be your husband?’”

Penelope raised her chin in defiance. “You heard what I said. I do not think that you would need it to be repeated, unless-” 

“I heard what you said,” Colin retorted, taking a step closer to her. This sudden proximity made Penelope tilt her head up, and she realized that he looked offended by her statement, yet Penelope could care less of what he felt. 

He stared at her with intensity, one full of irritation, challenge, and something that she couldn’t quite decipher. Penelope pushed that thought to the backs of her mind. It was no use dwelling on something she didn’t know.

“Good!” she exclaimed, crossing her arms. “I am glad to know that your hearing is quite sound.”

He narrowed his eyes at her, looking down at her in a way that made her feel quite small and warm all over her body. This made Penelope yet again realize the gap in their heights, and she so thoroughly wished she had a few more inches to her, just so she wasn’t so bothered by the intensity in his blue eyes.

“Take it back,” he hissed through clenched teeth. “You take that back now .”

“And why should I?” She snapped. “If that is the opinion I have? Which is something that you should even be caring about.”

He glared at her, looking vexed and that same emotion she couldn’t recognize, yet it was spreading warmth from the depths of her stomach. She held his glare. Usually, she would look away and let him have this victory, but Penelope could not give him that satisfaction this time. 

Abruptly, she was met with an epiphany. She realized she wanted to vex him, wanted to see the exasperated expression on his face, wanted to hear the way he released an incensed breath he was holding. She wanted to see all other emotions Colin could make, all because of her.

All of the sudden, they heard a cough that broke them from their glares toward each other. Both of them finally looked away from each other, and turned to the direction where it came from.

Anthony and Benedict both have amused looks on their faces, and Penelope felt embarrassment creep up on her as she finally remembered that they were not alone. She knew that constantly being in Colin’s presence unchaperoned was going to land them into trouble one day. This familiarity made her complacent that she forgot that it wasn’t always just them in the world.

Trying to save some face, she cleared her throat.

“Now if you will excuse me gentlemen and,” she gave a sneer towards Colin, “ Mister Bridgerton. I would like to return home. I am expected for dinner.”

Benedict, who couldn’t help it anymore, bursted out in laughter, as Anthony offered to walk her home. He too, couldn’t stop the amused smile still etched on his lips. Penelope, who suddenly felt tired, just let him do what he wanted. The sooner she was gone from Colin’s vicinity, the better.

She was almost out of the door, when Colin’s rang out into the empty foyer.

“Just you wait, Penelope Featherington,” he called out to her. “You will eat your words, and I will prove to you that I’m more than worthy to be your husband.”

Penelope could only roll her eyes. She didn’t see that happening, as she did not think she would be worthy to be his wife, as he declared that he certainly did not see that he could ever marry her. 

“Good night, Mister Bridgerton.”

And with one last curtsy, she allowed Anthony to escort her home. 

----

I feel like there's potential for a chaptered fic here where Colin courts the fuck out of Penelope, because he wants to prove her wrong, and of course, he realizes some feelings. some lady whistledown plot shenanigans thrown into the mix. maybe some show elements. but i idk if thats gonna see the light of day lmao

Title is from Dagny's Tension

[hello-there-world]

dunno if that ask i was writing got sent or not, but here we go again:

since you like my Fnaf Rewrite, here are some Fun Facts about the Aftons and Emilys!

to start, the Afton Family:

so, i've heard the debate. "was William a good dad or did he fucking suck?" well...i've come up with a middle ground that i haven't seen people explore: William Does Genuinely Care For His Kids...But In An Unhealthy And Abusive Way.

like, i explain it one of two ways: imagine Mother Gothel from Tangled, but tone her down several notches, and if she had "good" intentions with protecting Rapunzel (of course, we've all heard the saying: The Road To Hell Is Paved With Good Intentions). the other way i'd explain it is by saying William Is A Toxic And Abusive Helicopter Parent.

he doesn't hit his kids. he doesn't yell at them. it's more emotional abuse and manipulation. like, most examples of emotional abuse with parents that i've found when looking it up have things like yelling and ignoring the kid, but uh. I Think Convincing (or trying to convince) Your Kid That Disobeying Your Orders Will Have Severe Negative Consequences, Such As An Injury Or Dying, As Well As Being Condescending About Your Children's Negative Emotions About All Of This ("you'll understand/thank me when you're older", for example), Still Counts!

William has five children! Alexander (who is "foxybro," so to speak), Michael, Evan (middle child, not the Crying Child), Elizabeth, and Cassidy (Crying Child).

Mrs. Afton (Claire) died over a day after giving birth to Cassidy :(

William is terrified of losing his children, which is why he's Like That (not an excuse, obviously).

why isn't Michael foxybro? listen, i want happy Mike and CC interactions...which is difficult to do with canon.

Michael and Cassidy have the unfortunate combination of anxiety and autism, which. Isn't Great To Have In This Household.

the Fredbear Plush was a gift from Charlie :] technically from Henry, but Charlie’s the one who gave it to Cass :]

Not A Single Person In This Family Is Neurotypical

Alex is actually the Fnaf 1-2 phone guy!

while Cassidy is a pretty quiet and anxious kid, That Doesn't Mean He Doesn't Have Some Bottled Up Anger. That Kid Is RESENTFUL.

Michael, Charlie, and Sammy were born a few months apart.

Alex doesn't really hate Cassidy, but, in his mind, Cassidy’s birth was what caused their mother's death, so in a sense, he thinks that everything that's happened is Cassidy’s fault to an extent. the problem is that his siblings heavily disagree with this and it doesn't help their dislike of him (because he's a jerk).

Mike is trans!!

Elizabeth is the only child who isn't (outwardly) traumatized. that isn't to say that the abuse hasn't screwed her up...it just means that no one's noticed that she's screwed up too, yet.

William has some bunny features!! his hair has some strands on top that look like bunny ears and bunny teeth (which Are a thing people can have. i'm just not able to draw them too accurately, so they look like Actual rabbit teeth). the only two kids that inherited those traits were Mike and Liz.

William would get very pissed if you so much as Imply he's hurting his kids with what he's doing. in his eyes, he's only doing what he's doing out of love, so could it really be that bad? (it is. it Very Much is)

and now, The Emily Family!

Henry’s a good dad in the Rewrite. both to contrast William and Because I Want To.

Henry’s ex-wife, Annabeth, and him got divorced because she discovered that she was a lesbian, and Henry didn't want her to stay in a relationship where she wasn't Happy. this isn't to say that don't care for each other, they just don't really love each other Romantically.

Charlie and Sammy are biracial!! Henry is white and Anna is black :]

y'know Charlie’s toy rabbit in the books, Theodore? fun fact! in the Rewrite, he was a toy shared by her and Sammy! (although Sammy was the one who played with him the most) he was actually the improved version of one of Henry’s own childhood toys: he actually calls it "Theodore 2.0"

both of the kids take after Henry's personality in some way: Charlie has Henry’s general temperament (calm and mature usually, but if they're Really pissed/stressed, You Will Know), whereas Sammy is socially awkward and quiet, typically preferring to keep to himself and work on his projects. both of them share Henry’s interest in robotics, though.

Charlie and Sammy dealt with...a Slight bullying problem, but were both generally well-liked. (< foreshadowing)

while Charlie is more associated with greens (especially bright green), stars, and stripes, Sammy is more associated with oranges and browns, fire/burning/the sun, and plaid.

Charlie is older than Sammy by seven minutes.

and two extra things!

1) the Emily and Afton kids viewed each other as siblings, pretty much.

2) there are only two murders William has any sort of real regret for (even if it isn't much): Charlie's and Cassidy’s :)

Oh! This is so cool! I think the way you're doing William is great, too, especially since there is this weird middle ground in some stuff of "William does seem to have genuine care for his kids, but also, who would send their kid to a place like Sister Location knowing it might kill them?"

Love the stuff with the relationship between the Afton and Emily families a lot, too!

[konsaiki]

Hear me out on the song, Going To Bed Now by Modern Baseball-- specifically it's lyrics and how it coincides with Jarlo!1!1!?1!!

(lyric "analysis", just hear me out okay ↓)

What do you give someone whose already got one of everything you thought would be the perfect accoutrement to their unnerving temperament?

Attention?

This specifically reminds me of Arlo, Arlo quite literally has everything. High authority, an amazing and overpowered ability, a good future set up for him, and great connections as a fall safe.

What could a lowly peasant being like myself—

This line reminds me of John when he was posing as a cripple for obvious reasons.

—offer a perfect, pleasant savior of humanity redeemer of us sickly, sinning hillbillies?

Attention.

Arlo is the King of Wellston. He's a respectable figure who has shown and proven himself of the title of "redeemer" (shown to the readers when he literally reformed the hierarchy Rei left behind) and he did do good as an authority figure when it came to nurturing and prompting order among his subjects (the student body).

Just one more resounding stab at all the others. You've almost blown your cover.

When John taunted Tanner which resulted in Tanner ganging up on John before the fight gets interjected by Arlo "saving" John. (Mind you, Arlo literally states after that scene that he saw John's eyes glow in his inner thoughts.)

But your tracks don't stick.

John's old personality/headspace when he was back in New Bostin compared to when he just started at Wellston.

One more bottle should do the trick, discreetly cleansing the remnants of every disdainful quip.

Ignoring the first line because I doubt they'd be shown drinking in canon; John attempts to forget Claire's words over and over again but he still remembers all her hurtful remarks and her lasting quips at him because of Keon.

We've found no escape route,—

Arlo literally did not find an escape when he realized how powerful John was during the ambush and the aftermath of it (Joker arc).

—but I know you well enough to hate you now. It's too bad you haven't figured that out.

Regressing here in terms of the timeline but when Arlo found out that John did in fact have an ability, he started to loathe John and resent him for not following the hierarchy and for hiding his ability.

What do you call someone who calls you out on DIY ethics that you don't embody—

When John calls Arlo out for no longer being in charge and how John is now Arlo's "superior" since he technically dethroned him at the Turf Field.

—as he drains his dad and mommy's monthly data plan?

An asshole with an iPhone.

Arlo probably owns an IPhone let's be real, but this line also reminds me of the fact that Arlo's parents are implied to be successful people along with the fact that Valerie is apart of the authorities, he's got great connections that he could "drain" aka use.

I'll admit, I'm in the same boat,—

Arlo and John were both crowned Kings when they were only in their second year of high school.

—caught between my adolescent safety net and where the world wants me to be.

Arlo is expected to be great with heavy expectations put on him as a God-tier (this is emphasized greatly by Valerie) and John is expected to be a lawful God-tier who behaves according to his level (that's where the readjustment classes come into play after he offends the law by abusing his power and authority).

But I'd never use that as an excuse to treat my friends the way that you treat me!

This line goes both ways. For John, he'd never betray Seraphina like that, he'd never drag her out nor would he ever ambush her. For Arlo, he'd never hurt Remi anonymously masked or crush the hierarchy over something so personal.

Just one more distorted, sad attempt at humor from the jagged, bleeding tumor in our throat.

When Arlo apologizes to John, John doesn't believe it or more so he doesn't accept it. He nearly treats it like a joke and perhaps maybe an insult as well.

Malignance at best,—

The start of their relationship can be described as a cancer to be fair, it's toxic and terminal; just like how the bond they could've had died when Arlo ambushed John.

—and quick to address yourself as anything other than what we've learned to expect.

When Arlo kept his title of King when John had long since dethroned him and the few instances where Arlo, as acting King, had to protect Seraphina and John when John was supposedly and technically the "Shadow King".

The patron saint of Good Goddamn, I'll kick myself to sleep before I shake that grimy, dirt-encrusted, arrogant hand!

When Arlo attempted to convince John out of beating up the Royals or when John tried making Arlo Seraphina's "bodyguard" of sorts (both interactions were them trying to negotiate or make a deal with one another).

So please, leave my house.

If we use house as a metaphor for "space", then we can say that they dislike eachother and would rather have a less than touchy relationship (like how each time they argue, they end up making physical contact one way or another).

[adasknife]

Oh my gosh ur post ab aeon shippers on twt😭😭they posted my tiktok on there trying to cook me with absolutely zero counter arguments LOL

ur post was soooo right like I personally don't think Ada cares for Leon much in the remakes. But aeon shippers constantly try and prove that she does and use it as an excuse that she's a good person while DISREGARDING the actual good stuff she did such as her switching the bombs off because she respected Luis enough to honor his dying wish of saving Leon and Ashley. And also urging him to leave after he gives her the suppressant so he isn't in danger and can carry out his wish

Like so many 'Ada lovers' don't love Ada they love the ship and they project onto people who don't ship them by saying we're self inserting when actually it's them.Like they were saying that ab me on twt I don't even like Leon much in 4remake😭

no cause like, it so utterly stupid that the line of defense of aeon ship is either: you want to dick ride leon and you hate ada for being a girl boss.

or

haven't you seen the og aeon?

okay? they peaked in re2 og and immediately tanked in re4 og when those idiots were suddenly were star-crossed lovers. this dumb ship would've worked if it was slow burn and if the fans weren't too horny for it or liars about their ship.

THEY DONT EVEN TALK ABOUT OG AEON! they talk a bit og 4, og 6 and damnation in parts. only remembering ada's lipstick stain in the letter but NOT remembering ada pushed the button to explode the island. or how she always points a gun on him.

like it was either sexy time with ada and leon (only thing canon), leon having a picture of ada in his phone as his lockscreen (not canon), ada writing a love confession to leon (also not canon) in re6.

they want to connect og and non-canon to remake and that's what's messing with their heads.

and SUDDENLY, when things don't make sense for them, they say:

look how much leon care for her.

help! where? a smirk? calling a keychain cute? a stare? or let's talk about pitting girls against girls. making claire constantly jealous against ada, ada being jealous of ashley. or how the male gaze side of the fandom pits the girls if they are prettier than ada.

some people don't give a shit about ada until this ship is under the fire, and it's EMBARRASSING to see a bunch ada icons only defend leon and only ready to call ada hot and be done for the day.

ada is only meant for leon to some people. she is rejecting luis because leon. she is helping sherry and jake for leon. she is working against leon... for leon?

but their logic, they should dick ride ada a bit more and ignore leon for a couple of days.

[hotchs-second-wife]

DON'T BLAME ME || 5 || Jay Halstead x Thea Rhodes

Chapter Synopsis: It's time for the Rhodes monthly family dinner, and time for Jay to get a deeper understanding of his wife's relationship with his in-laws.

Chapter Warnings: Mentions of arson, kidnapping, infanticide; allusion to childhood trauma, suicide, cancer-related death; brief description of a vehicular accident; outright familial/parental pressure; portrayal of misogyny and misandry; Elli's speech still fluctuates. Read ahead at your own risk.

Author's Note: I'm starting specific chapter synopsis and warnings because I think you guys get the gist now.

Thea

With my glasses on the bridge of my nose, I examined the recent resumes my store manager sent up during my shift, as Elli watched TV in the living room. I wasn't entirely sure what Jay was up to, but I didn't want to be in his business when I had my own to mind.

"Mama, are we seeing Ganpa tomorrow?" Elli called through the slightly-open office door.

I checked the calendar on the corner of my desk. "Yes, principessa."

"Is Mr. Jay coming?"

"He is a Rhodes now, Elle."

Jay knocked on the doorframe, catching my attention. "This is the first I'm hearing about seeing your father." He leaned his forearm on the doorway, as I fixed my glasses. "I also didn't know you wear glasses."

"I wear contacts to work, and usually just wear them after work. And we only go to dinner once a month—my sister's idea." I stamped the resume, intending to send it to the store manager so she can call for a interview with a James Smitt. "I usually don't remember about dinner until Elli asks."

I noticed him shift slightly, before I continued. "You don't have to come. I only go to keep the peace with Claire, otherwise I'd rather burn alive than step foot on the property."

"And I thought my relationship with my dad was rough." Jay sat down on the sofa facing my desk.

"Usually he tells me everything I'm doing wrong with my life and that's why Connor left and all that BS. I timed the honeymoon on the last dinner so I had an excuse not to go for a month.

"But Elli sees her aunt every second month, so I have to go. I don't trust my father to not give her the same list of insecurities he gave me." I scoffed, signing off on whatever I was meant to be reading. I'd get a call from the old man if it had to come bite me in the ass.

Jay nodded along with what I was saying. He agreed to come, as long as he didn't pull the usual BS and to properly meet Claire. From what I knew, he and his younger brother weren't close anymore, so I presumed he wanted a good relationship with his sister-in-law.

"Do I get to meet your brother eventually?" I asked, sitting back in my chair. I didn't care if I met his father so much, but if my brother kept ignoring my calls, I at least wanted some sort of communicating relationship with my brother-in-law.

He shrugged. "We can fly to New York to see him if you want. Will and I don't talk much anymore, but I will if you want to get to know him; I won't stop you from knowing him."

"If we have kids, he'll have to be in their lives. My father's an only child and I never met my mother's family, so the kids should have their dad's uncle around."

"I'll introduce you to Mouse sometime then." Jay explained that 'Mouse' was a nickname for his best friend from his Ranger days. He and Mouse were the only ones to get out of their last deployment, and while Jay virtually went straight at it for CPD, Mouse's path wasn't so straight cut.

I wanted to tell him to offer a room for him with us, but I needed to meet him first. Sure, he was Jay's best friend and near-brother, but Elli was a priority and I'd have to clear it with Kelly beforehand too.

"If it's okay with you, I'd want him to be an uncle to our kids too."

I agreed. "I have a couple best friends from middle school I'd want as their aunts, and then 51 would be aunts and uncles and grandfathers to them too, so I think it's fair."

Elli had a village, and any kid born to a 51 firefighter did too. That village was the exact thing that drove me into the career, and I couldn't be prouder of it.

We discussed the Rhodes family dinner in length, before Elli stormed in and begged to go to the nearby park with the puppy. Scout was a more recent addition to the family, left alone in a house with his late owner when patrol officers found him. Jay called during my shift, telling me about this Dalmatian puppy with the biggest and cutest eyes, that Elli adored and was asking to keep.

So I agreed. As long as he wasn't left stationary alone again. It helped that he was a hit at 51.

I dressed Elli into her coat as Jay readying Scout and we walked down to the park for the two babies to play and run around while we talked.

#

Jay

The Rhodes dinner was in an hour, and Thea was in the next room finishing up with Elizabeth's outfit. I hadn't even seen hers yet, but when she said to be dressed up, I assumed she meant with the clothes she'd left on my bed after her shopping spree with Gabby and Shay earlier in the day.

"Mommy said you look nice, Mr. Jay!" Elizabeth waved her hands up at me as she stopped running right before she crashed into me.

"Thank you," I laughed, as I looked from the toddler to her mother.

Thea was in a black turtleneck sweater, topped with a black belt holding up slick, slim-checkered dress pants. At least, that was what she'd called very similar ones a day before.

"You look beautiful."

Thea waved me off bashfully, "it's the Rhodes genes. We naturally pull off our own product line." She picked up Elizabeth in one arm, and her handbag in the other smoothly. Thea hooked her car keys onto her ring finger, which slid down to clink against her wedding ring. I didn't even notice she was wearing it.

You were too busy checking her out. One voice scolded me in my head.

She's your wife, you're legally obligated to. It argued with itself.

It didn't take us too long to arrive at what Thea failed to mention was an entire Rhodes Family Estate, and security was easy enough to get through, so by the time we were in the lobby of the mansion—could I call it that, or was it considered too small to be one to rich people?

"Miss Theodosia," one of the young maids curtsied as she and an older lady stopped at us. "And Mr. Halstead, and young Miss Elizabeth."

"Bridgette, it's Mrs. Theodosia." The older woman corrected sharply.

Bridgette curtsied quickly with an apology. "It's alright, Bridgette," Thea excused quickly, turning to the older maid. "It's fine, Margarethe."

"And Miss Elizabeth is greeted before Mr. Halstead-Rhodes. She is a Rhodes by blood, he isn't." Margarethe continued to scold Bridgette.

"Thea!" Claire didn't look much different to a month ago—granted, it was a month ago—but there was a genuine smile on her face as she hugged her sister. There was a five-year age gap between the sisters, and Thea kept her at arm's length, so they weren't as close as anyone outside close friends and family thought. "Nice to see you again, Jay."

I smiled. "You too, Claire. You look well."

"Oh please, I've done nothing different since the reception of your wedding, but thank you." She scooped Elizabeth into her arms, and headed into one of the rooms before the staircase. Thea nodded to follow, and I followed her instead as she talked with her sister. "It's nice seeing you again, Thea. Its been too long since I saw you; we really need to catch up between these dinners with Dad."

Thea sent me an exasperated glance already. "I've told you my schedule is busy, between the store and my actual job." They continued going back and forth about it as we sat at the dining table. Their father soon joined us.

Dinner was quiet, mostly Claire telling us what she was doing with her store and the plan for renovations in the next year. Mr. Rhodes kept looking at Thea, and she sent stares back at him before she would turn back to her sister.

After some silence, he spoke up. "So, Jason, what do your parents do?"

"My father's a construction manager."

"And your mother?" Mr. Rhodes asked before another mouthful. Thea sent him a quiet scold, probably a warning to lay off with the questions.

I didn't mind answering him so much, it was just the question. It was hard to talk about her, even so long after the fact. "We, uh, lost her a few years ago."

"Oh, I'm sorry—" "'We'? So you have siblings?" Mr. Rhodes cut Claire off.

"A brother."

He nodded, a smile on his face. "Well, I'm sure Theodosia is glad to have a new brother, since her current one doesn't bother to call her."

"Father."

"What? Claire told me you haven't heard anything from him since the wedding, I was only stating a fact." Thea rolled her eyes at his response, as he kept talking. "The least you could do let me say and ask what I want, considering you married a construction manager's son."

"A detective. An especially good one in his own right, too." She snapped, then her demeanour changed. "Or, what, you'd rather I married one of your friends who would likely hit your baby girl if she ever dared to say no?"

Claire and I made eye contact at the tension, before Mr. Rhodes spoke again. "All I'm saying is that you could have at least married a man with an inspiring lineage and strong genes. Though, being able to lift some tons of concrete or knocking suspects to the ground would take some strength."

"Oh my god," Thea laughed, rolling her eyes. "You would've been fine with one of your friends abusing me if it meant I'd have good-looking children. Of course I'm just breeding stock to you, that's all you saw Mom as."

The table fell silent, excluding the show Elizabeth was watching on an iPad beside Claire.

"I loved your mother just fine, Theodosia."

"Clearly not enough to keep it in your pants though, right?"

Damn. What did I marry into?

I thought about Will and I kicking my father into the next decade if he cheated on Mom. And she lived until I was 26, so I could've kicked his ass at any age. Thea would have been under ten years old.

"That's enough," Mr. Rhodes chided.

Thea stood, walking around the table to her daughter. She handed Claire the iPad and picked Elizabeth into her arms. "That's right, it is. We'll be leaving now." She looked down at her sister, "I'll see you next week."

I followed her out to the car, and she buckled Elizabeth into her car seat. She remained silent as she drove down the driveway, glancing occasionally at her daughter in the backseat. "I'm sorry you didn't see Auntie for very long, baby."

"It's okay, Mama."

Thea kept her eyes on the road after that, and I didn't want to press into her family matters any more than she would mine. Brooke already told me enough for me to know that it was a sore subject with her.

"51 is all the family I need." Thea told me after Elizabeth fell asleep and she closed the door to her room. "And you and Elli, of course."

"You don't need to explain anything," I excused. She didn't ask me about my issues with my old man, and I didn't tell her.

She smiled at me briefly. "For all the crap I gave you when we initially met, you're not too bad."

"You're not so bad yourself."

Thea patted my shoulder and disappeared into her room. I stayed on the sofa a little longer, catching up with Brooke about her own dad.

#

I sat in the passenger seat, as Thea got out of the car to pass Elizabeth to her great-grandfather. Even after his father cheated and his parents split, Kelly was still close with his dad's parents and Thea was too.

"It helps that I don't really know my mom's parents. I know they loved her, but that's it." Thea explained, as she drove to the firehouse. She'd leave for work, and I'd drive to the district, and I'd pick her up in the morning after her shift. "Kelly wants Elli to spend as much time with his grandmother as much as we can give them."

His and Brooke's grandmother had dementia, from what Brooke had told me, and it was getting worse. She wouldn't even remember her son eventually, since Benny was barely in Chicago anymore, and when he was, Brooke noted that he didn't see his parents as much as he didn't see her.

Thea shrugged when I told her that. "Benny thinks Kelly was affected more by the cheating and divorce than she was. Kelly thinks Brooke was more affected since she was in her early teens and really looked up to Benny before it all happened."

"What do you think?"

"I think that the Severides have a load of issues that we can't solve," she looked at me pointedly. "As much as we might want to help them because they're our friends, you can't help a Severide. Not unless you're more important to them than breathing. Elli could probably do it, but she's just a kid."

"She doesn't need to solve her family issues so young." Thea gave me a nod of agreement when I understood. I knew she and Kelly were trying to raise her the opposite they were—Kelly, the older son needing to protect everyone, and Thea, the youngest daughter needing to prove herself to be seen. They didn't want their daughter to feel like that, and Thea didn't want her little girl turning out like her.

"I think if she can help it, Teddy will make sure Elle doesn't become a firefighter. Too many health risks and the like."

I admired her determination to protect her daughter. Of course, I didn't understand at the time what it was like to want to protect something so vulnerable from the world you know could destroy them.

[confusedkittensposts]

We know destiel shippers don't care about Castiel but a few days ago, I realised, how they aldo actually hate the confession and I want talk more about it.

Many shippers treat Castiel's confession as a crime against Dean Winchester

Now there are tons of posts about how horrible, selfish and even abusive, Castiel confessing his love to Dean on death bed was.

And You can always find posts and HCs and fics about characters like Sam and Claire and Charlie or Bobby and even Jack just ripping Cas for the confession.

Most shipper also loathe that castiel was the one who confessed first. They just can't accept that. There are piles upon piles of arguments and stories about how Dean confessed in purgatory trip 2, or worse how THE PRAYER, that is actually Dean making excuses for his anger instead of accepting he was unfair and he hurt Cas and "forgiving" Cas for comes crimes that were never his, is Dean's love confession.

Here is how some of this gets turned into a fic

Let me first say I respect all fanfic writers and I am not saying the docs are "bad" in any way. I am just making a point

Castiel is brought back from Empty and dropped either at the bunker of somewhere on Earth by Jack- he is human- Jack offers him half explanations.and tell him to stay with Dean- Dean is cold at their reunion- his reaction goes from surprise to either anger or ignorance- Sam give him a waer welcom and then tears into Cas for dying on dean- characters like claore and Jody do the same- Cas tried to accomodate to an increasingly suffocating life in bunker- he prays to jack recives no reply- his girf at his son having to take on such a huge responsibility and how being there for him is mentioned is two lines, never talk d about again- Jack comes to Dean, who has been moody and sulking, and comforts Dean tells him to take all the time he needs- Cas tries to leave the bunker cause he feels he isn't wanted, and funnily enough the author who has benn making pretty much everyone hostile towards cas treats him wanting to leave as a bad decision- Cas isn't allowed to leave- the fic ends with Dean punching Cas (a very common and beloved phenomenon in post 15x18 fics) and kissing him but he never says "I love you" to Cas

This isn't anti anyone, this is just a observation of how the fandom at large views a few things. Try not to be offended and even if you are don't come to replies. Just scroll past 🙏

[crowtrobotx]

The set up: I wrote a fic where Chris proposes to Mia... like 3 hours after Ethan dies because in his mind "This gives me an excuse to protect Mia and Rose without anyone asking any questions as we know people are after them." So far, so good! EXCEPT! Ethan had a family. A family that were already a bit frustrated at how Ethan had to suddenly cut them off in weird ways. And Erica had already lost someone to weird government stuff before. When she was about 9, her best friend's family moved to Raccoon City and then suddenly died when it exploded. Erica never got answers so growing up, she spent her time trying to figure out what exactly happened. And the name "Chris Redfield" popped up quite a bit... So she doesn't trust the BSAA, she never trusted Chris and Jill when they showed up to support Mia during Ethan's (Very delayed) funeral. (Cover story was Ethan fell down a chasm while hiking and they never found the body. Erica wonders if Mia murdered him) and because of all this she becomes a reporter. (Elliot is an accountant and a foodie. Never figured out what Ezra did) She gets sent to Paris to do a bunch of journalism at once, including interviewing Claire Redfield. This is also when Mia and Chris' "Honeymoon" arrive in Paris. She obviously never told them, and they never told HER they got married - let alone that it was fake. This drives Mia into having.... a really bad night while Claire tries to smooth things over by taking Rose and Erica out for the evening. Dropping Rose off the next day with Claire and seeing that Mia and Chris were... not as lovey dovey in Paris as one would think, she asks Mia for the Truth. And she gets it. All of it. How her brother was no longer human. how he REALLY died. What Chris was doing. What Rose was. And with that Erica joins the little Conspiracy of Chris, Mia, Claire, Jill, and Leon to figure out who the heck wants Rose, what the BSAA are doing, and why. I'm not very good at creating OC's. I look more for gaps in the story or abilities that they need to fill, and I honestly really like Erica. She's suspicious but not paranoid. She's tough but she listens to things. She plans ahead as much as she can but she goes with the flow too. She got a pet lizard the holiday after Brittany died because her family didn't know what to do and decided presents was SOMETHING and she named the lizard Brittany. She uses her jouranlism skills to help them in the end. (the fic is "As Long As You Should Have Lived" and I wish I had an excuse to go back to the world since I've finished it. But it ends nicely with no need. I do feel like Erica and her family are still kicking around in RE unless Capcom declares Ethan an only child Orphan. While the relationship between Chris, Mia,duty, grief, and guilt is the core of the fic, Erica is her own angle on those themes too. I love her. She also looks like Ethan's female twin for the most part too. Or a 30 year old Rose)

WHAT this sounds so interesting!! I really like this because I think there is a significant lack of information about what on earth happened between RE8 and the SoR DLC (I don't buy the half-assed "explanations" they give in game at all.) Erica sounds so cool, I love her. I am partial to OC's who are reporters (Kris is a journalist in Chrysalis) so I already love her. What kind of lizard is Brittany?? I think creating OC's is genuinely quite hard when working with existing material and it doesn't get appreciated enough. Like, sure, you can just make any guy and shove them into the story, and honestly sometimes that is very fun and turns out well, but having them actually feel like they fit and belong is sometimes a monumental task. I think looking for gaps and someone to fill them is a great strategy! And frankly even if Capcom canonized Ethan being an only child, I would ignore it lol. They are so, so bad at consistency in their own lore and it's borderline comical.

[singmyaubade]

totally just friends

warning : mentions of smut and cursing

sypnosis : what's weird? we are just friends

james potter x female!reader

part 1 / part 2/ part 3

two weeks.

two weeks since james kissing you, two weeks since your entire friend group resented you, and two weeks since you made one of the hugest mistakes you could've made.

time felt so slow and agonizing.

you could deal with claire not liking you but your entire friend group? that was hell.

you knew that what you had did was awful but not being able to explain yourself or to help people realize how guilty you felt was the hardest and most frustrating part of it all.

james was trying to talk to you, you were trying to talk to anyone in your friend group, and they were ignoring you to comfort claire.

you did try talking to claire as well but she would either get really pissed or walk away from you.

this situation was more dramatic than you could've imagined.

now you were currently trying to talk to lily,

"lily please, let me at least explain myself." you begged, trying to talk to her during potions.

she scoffed, "what is there to explain?" she continued to examine her potion, "you betrayed our closest friend and couldn't be honest with her, that's fucked up."

you frowned, "i never meant to hurt her, i didn't even know it would be a dare, i love claire and i never wanted to make her upset." you explained.

she looked at you, "did you love her while you were kissing james?" she sarcastically asked.

"this is fucking ridiculous." you laughed crazily, "you know i would've never done anything to intentionally hurt claire and yes, i made a mistake but-"

lily cut you off, "there is no but, you made a mistake and as much as i want to sympathize with you in the best way i can, you know claire is in the right and didn't deserve that so stop trying to act innocent." she spat.

you had never seen lily so furious, well at you.

proving to claire that you wouldn't do that her again seemed damn near impossible and the resentment and hate towards you was something you couldn't fight.

you wished you could disappear.

but unfortunately, that was not going to be an option.

the class dismissed as you rushed out the door, not wanting to even wait for the dirty looks or snark remarks from claire.

having most of your classes with your friends was actually not the best thing considering the situation.

you spent most of your time on the bench outside during the ten minute break, thinking. thinking about what you could do or what to even say to claire. even if she did slap you and not be the kindest, she still was your best friend at the end of the day.

you were a little pissed at claire for how she was handling the situation but you couldn't blame how she was acting, she was clearly hurt by your actions.

the bell chimed, noting you to start walking to class, holding your books in your hands.

you were lost in thought when someone bumped into your shoulder aggressively, making you drop the books in your hand.

you looked behind you to see who did it and to no surprise it was claire.

"claire, what the fuck?" you angrily said.

she turned around with a smirk, "oh i'm sorry, did you drop your books?" she sarcastically said, pouting.

"this mean girl look is not cute and you know it, you are just being a bitch." you spat.

she inched closer to you, "maybe i wouldn't have to be a bitch if it wasn't for the fact that you couldn't keep your legs closed for the a hundreth time this year." she berated, earning a couple of 'oooh's' from different students.

you scoffed, "do yourself a bloody favor and just walk away, you are only doing this because you are angry which i will excuse this one time." you snapped.

more students from different houses started to gather around.

"oh thank you for permission y/n!" she sarcastically cheered, "that is so mature of you considering all you do is act like a slut for any boy who gives you an inch of attention," she was now face to face with you, "and just for clarification, james didn't kiss you because you had any personality, he only kissed you because you were easy and was hoping to score some." she scowled.

"fuck you." you spat.

"i'm sure you would love to do that considering you have fucked at least everyone in the school." she smirked.

that comment really got you, causing you to punch claire square in her face which made her fall on the floor.

you angrily looked down on her as she had a surprised look on her face from you hitting her.

you realized quickly what you had just done, "claire, i'm so sorry." you extended your hand to help her which she accepted, "my anger got the best of m-" you started.

you were cut off but the impact of her punching you as you feel to the ground and she rose on top of your waist, "you fucking cunt!" she yelled.

she started clawing your face which caused you to scream to which you punched her in the stomach, trying to get her off of you.

you punched her square in the nose, maybe even breaking it.

she yelped in agony, hitting you harder as you pushed her to which she fell opposite of you and you got on top of her. you began hitting her hardly as she reached and pulled at your hair roughly.

you yelled, punching her harder to which she covered her face as you felt someone grab you.

"you fucking whore!" claire yelled from the ground as you looked to see remus trying to pick her up.

you tried to break out of the persons hold but they weren't budging, "fuck you claire." you spat, blood coming out of your mouth.

"calm down." james whispered in your ear, your body relaxing.

as you became unfocused, claire broke out of remus's hold and began lunging towards you.

she punched you in the jaw so hard that you heard a crack. you yelled louder in pain as multiple students began grabbing claire to hold her back.

you grabbed onto your jaw in pain as james began blocking you with his body.

you felt unable to focus, the pain was indescribable. you felt as if your entire jaw was misplaced, you couldn’t believe claire actually had it in her.

james urgently rushed you to the infirmary where pomfrey took a look at you, “merlin!” she said, “excuse my language but your jaw is entirely misplaced.” she touched your jaw as you groaned in pain.

james was holding your hand as you squeezed his hand when you felt pain.

pomfrey went away for a second, grabbing her wand, “this will only hurt for a second.” she said.

before you realized what she was doing, a simple charm placed your jaw back into place which hurt like a bitch.

you yelled loudly, squeezing james’s hand as tightly as you could.

you calmed down after a minute, not feeling as much pain due to a numbing charm.

pomfrey healed most of your bruises and cuts although the claw marks were going to take time to heal.

after a few healing potions and some fixing of your jaw, you had to talk to headmaster dumbledore.

“can you convince him i’m still sick?” you pleaded with promfrey.

she shook her head in dismissal as you sighed. you looked at james next to you who gave you a comforting smile.

“don’t worry, you know dumbledore won’t be so harsh.” he comforted.

you smiled, calming down, “thanks james.” you said, “and thank you for staying with me the entire time.”

he shrugged, “it’s whatever i guess.” he joked as you pushed him a little bit.

“if i’m not expelled, I’ll see you after?” you said, sounding a bit more like a question.

“of course, would die without ya.” he said, embracing you in a hug then holding your cheeks with both of his hands on either side, “i’m sorry you broke your jaw because of something i did.” he sounded genuine which made your heart flutter and due to his hands heating up your cheeks.

you laughed, “it’s okay, i think the kiss was worth it.” you winked, leaving him grinning from ear to ear.

“between you and me,” he whispered, “me too.”

you smiled, “i should get going.”

“yeah, ill see you soon eh?” he said.

“yep.” you replied before heading off.

you went up to dumbledore's office with nerves radiating your entire body. you couldn't believe this is where you were and you couldn't believe that you and claire actually fought.

none of it seemed real.

you took a deep breath as you entered his office, claire sitting on the left side with a scowl on her face.

"come in miss l/n." dumbledore greeted you with a friendly face.

you stepped inside, sitting down on the right side, about five inches away from claire.

"i have heard from many other students and they have claimed to have witnessed that you started the fight." he said, looking at you, "is that true?"

you swallowed, "it is, i was hurt by something claire had said which is no excuse and i got violent." you admitted, looking into your lap, "i apologize."

he nodded, "is there anything you would like to say miss brown?" he asked.

"i apologize too, i reacted out of anger and should've never called y/n such horrible names." she said, "she's my best friend and didn't deserve that."

this caused you to look at her, you were still her best friend.

"hogwarts forbids any sort of violence and you are both mature enough to talk about your issues instead of resorting to that. usually, this would result in expulsion," he said, causing you to widen your eyes, "but i was a teenager once and know that mistakes are not in the list of characteristics nor do they define you and due to that understanding, your punishment will be detention for two months."

a wave of relief hit you so harshly, you wondered if dumbledore could've seen it.

"i appreciate that, nothing like that will ever happen again." you stated.

"agreed." claire nodded.

"i hope so." he said, "and i hope you both realize that friendship is more important than a teenage boy." you both looked at each other in surprise, "with that being said, you may go off to dinner." he dismissed.

you both thanked him, walking out of the room.

you chose to speak first once you both were otuside, "i'm really sorry claire, i should've never done that to you and i was being selfish, i love you so much and you matter more than any boy ever could." you heartfully spoke.

claire was glossy-eyed, "same with me, i'm sorry for ignoring you and well being a bitch," you both laughed, "and for hitting you, i never should've gotten physical."

you smiled, "i completely agree, i should've never hit you, i just want to be best friends again." you said.

"and that we are." she held your hand, "honestly, i think you know how to throw a punch." she joked.

"me? did you see the punch you gave me, knocked my bloody jaw out of place." you both started laughing loudly.

"i didn't think it was hard!" she giggled.

"i swear my jaw will never be the same." you frowned jokingly.

she kissed your cheek, "there, it's fixed, trust me."

"actually, it is feeling a little better now." you agreed.

"and about james, if you want him, you can-"

she cut you off, "trust me, i do not want james anymore, i have realized i like the idea of him and not truly him. plus, pettigrew is actually very kind and hilarious." she said.

relief washed over you, "i always thought you two would be cute." you admitted.

"really? good to know." she winked, "and we both know you and james are meant to be." she added.

you scoffed, "yeah right."

"you should admit it before it's too late." she sent you a smug look, "the way he looks at you is as if you he could look at you for an eternity." she said, looking ahead.

a grin plastered on your face, "really?" you asked.

"yep." she simply said.

it was silent after that, you were too lost in your thoughts. in that moment, you knew that you wanted to be with james potter.

not because it made sense but because he was always there, he always cared.

james felt like an adrenaline rush that never faded or when you are floating on water with your eyes closed.

he made you feel golden.

and i guess you could say that james potter himself was golden.

you both made it to the dining hall, sitting down with the group as they looked at you both totally confused.

"are you guys going to kill eachother again?" dorcas asked.

"yeah because i can totally record." marlene added.

you and claire both started laughing, "i'm afraid there will be no more killing eachother." claire said.

you agreed, "yeah, i think we will stick to being best friends."

"thank the lord, i was really starting to miss you." mary said, looking at you.

"agreed." dorcas said.

"missed you a lot." lily said.

"missed you too lils." you smiled.

"i'm sorry for what i said." lily said.

you squeezed her hand, "i understand why you said it and i love you for sticking with claire." you said, kissing her on the cheek, "i'll be back guys, i have to go do something." you excused yourself as they all nodded, continuing their conversations.

you went up to james and tapped his shoulder, "may i talk to you?" you asked as he looked behind to see you.

"y-yeah of course." he said, getting up.

you both went outside of the hall, "claire and i cleared everything up."

he nodded, hands inside his pockets, "good good, i'm glad."

"yeah and i obviously didn't even get expelled." you laughed.

he chuckled, "amazing news." he said, looking at the ground.

"and i also realized that i kinda like you." you said as he looked at you in shock, "just a little bit." you joked.

"i think i kinda like you too." he cheesily said.

"so potter, will you give the most extraordinary time of my life by letting me take you on a date?" you asked.

he hummed, tapping his chin with his pointer finger, "i meann,"

he suddenly picked you up as you yelped and carried you in the air, "of course i will!" he yelled.

"okay okay! bloody put me down!" you giggled.

"wait does that mean i can finally fuck you?" he asked, jokingly.

"maybe after thirty dates." you said.

he pouted, "thirty?"

you rolled your eyes, "i'm kidding with you, if you take me to a nice place, you can fuck me." you said.

he cheered loudly as you shushed him, "can i kiss you?" he asked.

you mimicked his pretend thinking earlier, "no shit sherlock."

he smiled, placing his hand on you cheeks and kissing you.

and now, you guys weren't totally just friends.

thank you guys for following in on this little series ! i am sorry it took so long, so many holidays. if this wasn't the best ending/ last little part, i apologize. anyways, i hope you enjoyed, love u all sm.

tags : @inluvwfbzarry @bunnyrose01 @fanfictioniseverything @fairysluna @maylaysia109 @margaritasrosadas @slay-and-gay @altyx @axa-00 @mata0-0mata @samihatasmim167890 @yourfairygoodwriter @arac3ly @b-barnes04 @let-love-bleeds-red @malfoylaufeysonweasleybarnes @adrienette715 @greeniegreengreen @siriuslysmoking @swag696942069 @evanpetersrightbigtoe @vpiange @eviesmith1810 @melllinaa @okkulta @mystarlightswiftt @mxm47max @robinbuckleysgfreall

@strangeanndunusual @girl-frm-mars @hfduudus @noob-master-6-9 @tobesolovelysstuff

[hyacinthsdiamonds]

Reasons I hated the ending;

Inconsistent ooc writing. I don't know who the f was on my screen but that wasn't the Sam or Dean we've grown with for fifteen years.

Plot holes; the vampire mimes??? Where did they come from?? Because John thought Vampires were extinct until Dead Man's Blood and then he's you know dead so when did he have this supposed hunt with these pathetic excuses for a typical monster of the week villain let alone the last ever one?

Jenny. She wasn't even named in her first episode. Not once in fifteen years did one viewer go "I wonder what happened to her". Nostalgia? Most people didn't recognize her. She's only notable for being part of the first wlw and same-sex kiss on the show which was nonconsensual because the other girl forced herself on Jenny and only did it for the amusement of the men watching. There's also interesting points regarding to the show's vilification of queer people in the early seasons as majority of the first queer characters were what the show deemed monsters and were portrayed as predatory or destructive (they literally had Lily accidentally kill her girlfriend by touching her) and if they were "human" they were used as the punchline until Charlie when we actually got good rep and she was eventually butchered. Most queer characters ended up dead, or at least dead from some time. Only four queer characters are even hinted to be alive at the end (we don't know nothing about Charlie 2.0's fate), Kaia and Claire who's reunion and overall ending is left open to interpretation (hinted they're alive as Donna texted Sam which hints the wayward sisters are ok), Max who as far as we are aware is still condemned to go to Hell when he dies and Chuck one of if not the only canon bisexual males in the show was vilified to such a significant degree it doesn't matter that he's still alive. To have Jenny be the character they bring back while ignoring the show's integral queer characters like Charlie or Crowley or Claire or Cas etc is something else when the nonconsensual kiss was what turned her into a vampire.

Of the three female characters we see in the finale none have any connections to the viewers. Jenny the only character we've seen before is killed immediately. Blurry wife literally only exists to provide the womb for Sam to have a son to name after Dean so it doesn't look like he kidnapped a random kid, she's not deemed important enough to be even seen properly. "Sam could've ended up with anymore it's open to interpretation" bullshit because that's clearly a white woman which erases so many interpretations and it is so clearly a cop out. The third is a woman who literally gets silenced at the start of the episode, she gets her tongue cut out. The most we get is a text from Donna and a line about Mary.

Cas' ending. You pulled Chekhov's gun out. The gun had to go off but instead of acknowledging his confession, they refused to allow Dean to voice his feelings, refused to even give Cas a concrete ending. We don't know for an absolute fact if he's in heaven, all we're told is Cas helped. His death is literally bury your gays, an example of out of the closet and into the fire. He deserved better as a main character of twelve years.

Dean's death is problematic as fuck. His death is implied to be a suicide. It's said to be a good thing, him dying, him dying that way. This still fucks me up. He deserved to live. He deserved so much, I see him having some sort of roadhouse like Ellen taking care of wayward children and hunters alike, and having some sort of auto shop like Bobby did. I see him aged and happy. I see Cas beside him as he should be.

Sam's ending is bullshit. It erases fifteen years of character development, of relationships and it makes it all pointless. Sam is forced to lead the life he would've lived had Dean not showed up at his dorm in the pilot. What was the point of any of it? Was Dean just a fifteen year interruption of his brother's real life? His character arc was leading towards a completely different route and they did a full 180 and regressed his character so much. Sam should've become the next Bobby, teaching and helping a new generation of hunters and he should've gotten to keep/use his powers. He should've gotten to pass on Rowena's knowledge to a new generation of witches too and I'll die on both those hills.

EILEEN LEAHY DESERVED FUCKING BETTER. First you kill her by hellhounds. You kill a deaf woman with something she needs to be able to hear in order to have a chance at surviving. Second you bring her back, develop her and Sam's relationship and then you kill her again, don't give Sam a chance to even react to it and then leave her fate unknown and then throw in blurry wife to add insult to injury.

The pacing was so off. Like carry on wayward son plays back to back twice in a weird montage??

The party city wig. It's genuinely laughable. Like that's what the cw went broke over lmfao.

It's hilariously bad for your average monster of the week episode. As a final ever episode, it's like spitting and peeing into the fans drink and forcing them to drink it.

It wasn't for the fans. I know some fans liked it, I disagree with their opinions but respect them BUT it's clear that the episode was the way it was for people who ditched the show earlier on in it's run could tune in and not feel like they missed anything, which for a show with 15 seasons should never have been the case. It was a kick in the face for those who stuck it out from beginning to end

Amara's ending doesn't sit right with me. Like she's just absorbed into Jack? Jack at three is God? Amara should've been God and Jack should've gotten to be a kid on Earth.

Rusty. Nail. Andrew Dabb why did you hate Dean Winchester and Jensen Ackles?

What about Cas' deal with Ruby? What about Rowena and the demons in Hell? What happened to Adam? Everyone Chuck snapped allegedly got brought back (no confirmation on Eileen, Charlie 2.0 or Stevie) but Michael got vaporized in Adam's body so what happened to Adam next? Forgotten again ffs. The vamp mimes are their own plot hole but how did they and Jenny team up? Like what connection did they even have? I could go on forever on forgotten plotlines and blatant plot holes.

John Winchester being in heaven.

Ruining carry on my wayward son. It's literally a jump scare at this point for me

Things I liked about the finale;

The dog

The party city wig for the memes only

[haitaniapologist]

❝  you’re looking at me but you’re not seeing me.  do you know how that feels?  just see me.  please.  ❞ with a Mitsuya that thinks you don’t feel anything for him but in reality you love it so much it hurts? 🥺 please?

Congrats on the milestone!!!!!!!!!!!

NOT STRONG ENOUGH.

pairings — mitsuya takashi x female!reader.

warnings — fluff, a tiny bit of angst because it's friends to lovers.

word count — 1.5k

notes — happy birthday mitsuya my beloved!!! also, im sorry for the other requests i've ignored to write this, but soon i'll reach to them i swear dsghasd

tagging — @tooweirdforyou @1900-aria @etheralyonn @rayfuyu @chronic-claire-universe @aqualesha @winterv-black @softbajis @dai-tsukki-desu @aftermxxn @danceafternoon @sureconfused @sanzuhachoo

takashi couldn’t be more grateful to his friends for remembering his birthday, and throwing him a surprise party. if he had the reins of what his birthday would be, he would probably spend it alone, working on a new fashion project and, probably, gathering everyone to celebrate it on the weekend. 

he didn’t suspect anything when you appeared in his atelier, all smiles and silly antics, even though he knew you had college classes on that day. you said you had taken the day off to spend the day with your best friend — and takashi really tried to not be bitterwith your words, because he wished he was more than just your best friend. he had been in love with you since middle school, when emma brought you to a toman meeting because your parents were traveling, and she didn’t want to leave you all alone in your house. but he appreciated the gesture, and was even ashamed when you paid for his lunch at a well-known, and quite fancy restaurant. you two were broken young adults, but you dismissed his worries with a beautiful smile on his face. 

when you two arrived at his apartment — after an afternoon laced with laugh and subtle touches from his side — and everyone screamed “surprise”, he tried to pretend to be mad at you, but the sheer happiness dripping from your eyes from seeing takashi looking so happy stopped him in his tracks. 

that, and chifuyu’s arm on your waist. 

he swallowed hard before draken took him to engage in a chat with pah and peh, who wanted to know everything about his new project. but his lavender eyes kept glancing back at you, and how happy you seemed to have chifuyu touching you, and now he wished nobody did anything for his birthday. he wished everyone had forgotten about it, even his mom and his sisters, who were chatting excitedly with hina about her plans to her future wedding — takemichi just proposed, after all. 

everyone said he was a crybaby, but he was far braver than takashi. 

he was supposed to yank chifuyu’s arms from your waist and take you somewhere else, tell you about his feelings for you and make you his. but he would never interrupt your happiness — and if you found it with chifuyu instead of him, what he was supposed to do? he was your best friend, and he would do anything to see you happy. even though that meant stepping back and ignoring his feelings until they were just the ghost of the flame they were now, watching as how chifuyu was going to do with you everything he dreamed about. 

takashi continued his chat with his friends and former gang colleagues, even if his chest seemed to be bleeding from inside-out. 

draken gave him a curious look and he tried to brush off his best friend’s thoughts with a smile — and soon hakkai joined their small circle, and for a while, takashi forgot about you. however, when he excused himself from his friends to give his sisters and mom a kiss on their checks and spend a few moments with them, he saw it. 

chifuyu had his hand on your cheek, and it seemed he was leaning down to give your lips a kiss.

takashi thought he was strong enough to see you fall in love with someone else and not be bothered about it — your happiness always came first than his — but that was too much for him. he changed his path with quick steps to his room, and nobody seemed to notice it. 

but your eyes were on him, the entire night, and you promptly excused yourself to see what happened to him. it was takashi’s birthday, and you hoped nothing happened to make him sad — you deduced that from the frown on his face and the way he rushed down the hall to his room. 

you knocked twice before turning the doorknob, heart beating fast. you would use that opportunity to give mitsuya his birthday gift, and you hoped he would love it. draken said he would, and you trusted him — after emma’s death, he seemed to be adamant in playing matchmaker with you and his friend and, while you were grateful to his doings, you knew takashi only saw you as his female best friend. and that was fine with you, until you saw a model flirting with him, and you noticed that you weren’t strong enough to witness him falling in love with someone else other than you. 

“‘kashi?” you whispered in the darkness of his room, the bedside lamp beside his bed the only source of light inside it. he was sitting on his bed, head low and shoulders trembling — and a gasp left your lips as soon as you noticed he was crying. 

nobody was supposed to be crying on their birthday. 

you hurriedly sat beside him, hands encircling his shoulders to bring his head to rest on your chest. you wished you could feel his pain for him — nothing hurt more than seeing takashi suffering, and you wanted to fight whoever made him feel this way. but who could’ve done it? he was just chatting with the boys before he went to his room. was he feeling overwhelmed by the party? did something happen before you went to his workplace?

“what happened?” you asked when he calmed down, his hands gripping your waist as if it would be the last time he would feel your skin beneath his fingertips. 

he stayed in silence for a few moments, before getting up and freeing himself from your hold. you missed his warmth already. 

“you’re looking at me but you’re not seeing me.” he started, a bit uncertain, afraid to end something he cherished like nothing else — your friendship. 

you tilted your head in confusion, not following his line of thinking well. before it hit you. was he upset because of you and chifuyu? but he was only making sure you didn’t have anything strange on your teeth. “do you know how that feels?” the desperation in his voice wasn’t like anything you ever saw, and to know you were the cause of it made you punch yourself. “just see me. please.”

you saw him. oh, how you saw him — but the words weren’t coming to your mouth, and you watched as his eyes became dull of any emotion from your lack of answer.

takashi knew he shouldn’t have said anything. you didn’t feel the same, of course, and now he ruined the only thing that he couldn’t live without. “forget i said anything.” he smiled down at you, a pained one, and he knew he needed to get out of his room before he broke down in tears again. “i wish you and chifuyu the most happiness the world can offer.” 

he felt like a robot walking to his door, and when his hand was already at his doorknob, your voice stopped him. “why do you think i would be happy with ‘fuyu?” your voice was small and you felt like a child trying to ask forgiveness for their parents. “when i am the happiest when i’m with you?” 

your words paralysed him and his brain shut down, thinking that it was a dream and that in reality you were disgusted with him from being jealous of your new boyfriend, but your warmth on his back — arms around his torso and head nuzzled between his shoulders blades — brought him back. 

“i see all of you, takashi.” you started again, gasping when he turned in your hold, hands cupping your face. you felt embarrassed with how intense his eyes were. “how could i not? you were everything i ever wanted since i was thirteen.” 

you two stayed in silence for a few minutes, enjoying each other’s presence and the lightness of not having to hide your true feelings anymore. it was good, having takashi’s warm hands on your cheeks and tracing your lips, like you ever dreamed about — or, on his case, being able to touch you freely and having your arms around him not in a friendly way. 

“can i give you your birthday present?” you whispered, and blushed under how captivated by the way your lips moved he seemed to be. 

“of course, my love.” 

you giggled at the pet name and takashi smiled, a faint red color on his cheeks. he still couldn’t believe that what was happening was real, and not just a product of his imagination — it would be cruel to wake up alone on his bed after basking in your warmth for longer than normal. 

your hands traveled from his torso to his shoulders, one cupping his jaw and bringing his lips closer to your face. “happy birthday, takashi.” you whispered against his lips, before pressing yours to his, in a sweet kiss that you only thought it would happen in your dreams.