#(mostly stuck around that theme :)

[richesthermit]

hiiii <3 if you can pull up any dl tango names, and/or any icons where he has canary wings, i would be more than grateful 🫶 can be done separately or you can do just one! love youuuu -pearl

Hope you don't mind me doing just names :) Love you too! :D

❀ NAMES : - Adar - Aiden - Aithne - Aitziber - Blaze - Brando - Brent - Calida - Cole - Conleth - Fintan - Hagan - Ignacio - Ignacia - Inigo - Kallai - Nuria - Topaz - Uriel - Vesta

[softquietsteadylove]

For the Maleficent AU:

Gil sneaks away to learn more about the humans who harmed Thena! And after he learns what happened and what kind of tradition is going on he decides to teach them a lesson 👀

"Why, thank you, dearie," the older woman smiled as Thena drifted down from the apple tree with a full bucket. The shorter, grey haired woman patted Thena's arm as she accepted the bounty picked for her. "So helpful."

Thena smiled at the woman as well, walking to her now-filled produce cart with her. "I am happy to lend my service."

She helped the woman push forward what was already in it, baskets of oranges and pears and grapes already picked. "You lot have all been very kind since you started showing up here."

Thena would be lying to say she wasn't relieved that the presence of fae like herself had been declared positive for the humans in the area. "I hope you'll let me continue to come and help."

"Oh, I'm sure we'll be counting on it," the old woman laughed and batted at Thena's wings the way she might slap someone's arm. "You and that strong fella you bring with you are most welcome!"

Thena clasped her hands together, smiling at the ground. Gil had obliged her at every turn in her desire to spend more time with humans, often 'escorting' her further and further inland to do it.

"Where is that handsome specimen of yours?"

Thena frowned, looking around the field. A few other fae and humans were mulling about, but she was right; Gil was nowhere to be found. Thena adjusted her wings on her back, "hm."

"Oh, I'm sure it's fine, dearie," she offered as she moved towards the front of the cart. "My husband wanders off all the time, but he always finds his way home to me."

Thena smiled, helping the delicate woman ascend to the cart's front seat. "Thank you; I shall see you on our next flight from the nest."

"You fly safe, now!"

Thena laughed faintly, waving at the woman until she was turned around and guiding the horses pulling her into the city paths leading to the market. Once she was turned, Thena stretched her wings out.

It wasn't like Gilgamesh to drift away from his flock, even under the most peaceful of circumstances. In all the times they had flown to the mainland, he rarely strayed from her side at all.

She kept her eyes on the ground as she flew in wide circles, trying to survey the area through the treetops of the forest. It wasn't nearly as thick as the mystical Moors with their thorn walls, but it still wasn't easy to navigate.

She swerved towards a fairly solitary little house on the outskirts of the village nearest the city walls. She listened past the sound of the wind bending around her, her feathers rustling and the woods below.

The house was clattering from within.

She startled as two humans tumbled out of it, the door coming clean off as someone inside kicked it down. They scrambled in the dirt to escape but two massive wings with black feathers walked out behind them.

Thena dove.

"Please!" the older human - barely a man of twenty, by the looks of it - held out his hand. "Please, I'm sorry!" We didn't-"

Thena skidded in the dirt to land between the pathetic little humans and their predator. "Gilgamesh!"

"Thena," he frowned, not looking all that surprised to have been caught terrorising a couple measly mortals. "What are you doing here?"

"The farmers noticed you had slipped off," she clarified, still standing in front of the humans on the ground. She looked over her shoulder, "what in all spirits' name are you-"

The older one had a length of cord around his neck, holding a pendant of sorts. It was paler than ivory and larger than the fang of any beast. It was curved and pointed, although clearly aged.

Thena blinked, "is that-?"

Gil nodded, walking past her and leaning down to the snivelling boys. He pulled the cord right off the older one, "I asked around. A few pixies told me that they knew of some humans who told stories of their grandfather fighting in a great war in the Southern Isles."

Thena accepted the tip of her horn from him, shaved down and bound in the leather cord to be worn like a good luck charm.

Gil glared down at them, "maybe I should fashion something similar out of your teeth--see how you like it."

"Gil, stop it."

All three of them looked at her as she rolled her eyes as if they were young boys tousling for fun. Gilgamesh balked at her, "they were wearing your horn as a trinket, Thena."

"After their grandfather broke it," Thena finished, no latent trauma surrounding such an old injury. She met Gilgamesh's eyes, "more than a century ago."

"Y-Yes!--yes, exactly!" the younger one attempted to speak now that his brother's words had left him. "I-It was passed down to us, but we didn't-"

"I was told you parade it around proudly," Gil leaned down to glare at the younger boy in all his intimidating might. His wings bristled, "you stand in the town square and regale the people about how your grandfather felled a faerie and made off with this as his prize."

Thena sighed, pulling the boy back and away from Gil's snarling. She picked him up by the back of his tunic, although he wasn't entirely ready to stand on his own legs again. "Boys are showoffs when they're young. Ikaris used to ask people to dare him to see how far down he could swim before his wings became too heavy to resurface."

"Thena," Gilgamesh crossed his - massive - arms at her.

"Gilgamesh," she said much more gently, nudging the older one behind her as well. She tipped her chin up faintly, "I know they're wrong for it. I'm not saying I'm happy to know what they've done. But the crime isn't theirs."

Gil eyed the piece of horn in her hand. He shuddered, "it's detestable."

"That, it is," she sighed, looking down at it as if it were just some trinket and hadn't once been a part of her. "But it won't do anyone any good if you hold them responsible for the crimes of someone else's past."

Gilgamesh wilted, and she smiled at the resurfacing of that gentle heart he had. He was a strict guard and a valiant fighter, but she had come to learn that he was very sweet in nature. He stepped closer to her, "are you sure about this?"

"Quite," she promised, not moving in the slightest as he bent his face close to hers. Her eyes flicked up to his to prove her resolve. He had nice eyes.

Gil just barely moved his eyes from hers to the humans behind her, huddled down behind the protective veil of her wings. Gil took the liberty of moving them so he could glare at the boys unobstructed. "You're lucky. If she weren't here I'd be flying you out over the cliffs and dropping you in the sea."

The humans didn't need any more reason to turn and flee, their family heirloom all but forgotten.

Thena resettled her wings, giving him a reproachful smile, "you'll undo all of our hard work to improve our reputation in the area."

Gil sniffed, still watching the human boys run for their lives. He rolled his shoulders and his wings before chuckling, "that's not true. The humans here love you. If they need to think me a beast, then let them."

Thena shook her head with a smile. She moved behind him, finding his wings ruffled from the tussle of earlier. Her hands moved delicately, righting his feathers for him. "You are not a beast."

"No?" he asked over his shoulder as he let her preen his wings for him. He sounded humoured. "You don't find me scary?--even a little?"

"Please," she let out a tiny laugh as she moved her fingers over his shimmering black feathers with their earthy undertones. They were beautiful. "You are no more frightening than Druig thinks he is."

He hissed as if she had struck him, and her hands flinched back for a second, worried she had plucked something the wrong way. He laughed again, though, "comparing me to your brother? And the younger one, at that?"

Her laughter joined his, "only in that you might think yourself frightening, but I know for a fact that your heart is quite magnanimous."

With her hands done their work on his wings, he turned to face her again. His wings flexed behind him, refreshed. They really were beautiful; Thena clasped her hands behind her. He grinned at her, "know my heart well, do you?"

Thena gulped as he stepped closer. Her wings reflexively twitched, but she had them pinned against her back for exactly this reason. Their eyes danced around each other's faces. "I think I know it better than most."

It seemed her answer had succeeded in charming him--humouring him, at the very least. He reached out, and for a moment she thought he was going to touch her cheek. But his hand continued to the bone of her wing, smoothing out some of the small, downy feathers he had touched when he moved her wing before.

She shivered; no one had ever touched her wings like this before. Was this what it felt like when she had preened him?

He pulled his hand back and looked as if nothing had happened at all, "ready?"

"Hm?" she blinked, having lost all previous trains of thought.

"Ready to head back?" he asked with a nod of his head, and another smirk threatening to spread over his face.

Thena just nodded, offering a smile she hoped didn't look ruffled. He took off first, his wings spreading and lifting him into the air in one strong motion. They were really were beautiful wings.

[rotteneldritchhorror]

At least a small part of Chosen’s gender is just LOZ twilight princess and tbh… good for him

[arolesbianism]

Having a rain world oc moment. Dysfunctional family of the year award, they were so toxic that one of them found a way to kill themselves in a world where that was supposed to be physically impossible

[brunchable]

The Marriage Bet

Pairings: Best Friend Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Themes: A bet. A bit of comedy but mostly fluff and Bucky treating his woman right ;)

Summary: If in three years time both of you were still single, you will marry your best friend, Bucky. That's the bet.

A/N: For those of you who voted for 'Calm Down, Dad Mode' I've added it to this story. This has got to be my favorite fluff FML. Also let me TELL YOU, the cravings in pregnancy and the emotions are real because I lived it lmao. PART 2

Three Years Ago

"You know what we should do?” Bucky said out of the blue, his gaze fixed on you with a seriousness that made your stomach flip. The two of you had been lounging on his couch for hours, talking about everything and nothing. It was a lazy night filled with laughter, shared memories, and the kind of comfortable silence only you and Bucky knew how to savour.

You glanced over at him, raising an eyebrow. “What?”

“If we’re still single in three years… let’s get married,” he announced, as if it was the most logical suggestion in the world. His tone was light, but there was a quiet intensity in his eyes that made it clear he wasn’t joking.

You stared at him for a moment, trying to gauge if he was serious. “Bucky, have you lost your mind?”

“Maybe,” he admitted with a shrug, his lips twitching up into that familiar smirk that made your heart skip. “But think about it. No more crappy dates, no more getting your heart broken by idiots who don’t deserve you. Just us. You and me. We already know each other’s worst habits, and we get along. It’d be a good marriage.”

You scoffed, shaking your head. “You make it sound like we’re signing up for a business merger.”

He laughed at that, the sound deep and genuine. “Maybe. But at least you’d know you’re stuck with someone who’s never going to walk out on you. Someone who’d fight for you.”

The way he said it made your throat tighten, and for a second, you allowed yourself to picture it. A life with Bucky, the two of you navigating the ups and downs together. No more failed relationships, no more loneliness. Just the comfort and security of someone who knew you better than anyone else.

“You’re serious, aren’t you?” you murmured, still stunned by the idea.

He nodded, his gaze never leaving yours. “Yeah, I am. So, what do you say?”

You hesitated for just a beat, then broke into a grin. “Deal, Barnes. If we’re still single in three years, I’ll marry your crazy ass.”

He grinned back, his hand shooting out to seal the promise with a firm handshake. But as your fingers clasped around his, the energy between you shifted — playful and yet, inexplicably serious.

“Deal,” he echoed softly, a knowing look in his eyes that sent a shiver down your spine.

× × × × 

Present

You leaned against the railing of the rooftop, your eyes skimming over the city lights below as the faint notes of Taylor Swift’s break-up songs filled the air. You and Bucky had been up here for hours, talking and drinking, the night air crisp against your skin.

It had been a rough few months for you — the breakup still felt fresh, the sting of rejection and disappointment lingering. But being here with Bucky made it easier. He had a way of grounding you, of making you feel like everything would be okay, even when it didn’t seem that way.

“Y’know, you’re the best,” you murmured, your words slurred slightly from the champagne. “I mean it, Buck. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

He smiled softly, his gaze warm as he watched you. “Good thing you don’t have to find out, huh?”

You nodded, letting out a sigh as you turned back to the view. “Still, I feel like… I don’t know. Like I’m destined to be alone or something.”

“That’s not true,” he said quietly, setting his glass down and turning to face you fully. “And you know it.”

You shrugged, glancing over at him. “Yeah, well, sometimes it feels like it. Everyone I’ve ever dated just—”

You stopped mid-sentence as Bucky suddenly shifted, reaching into his pocket. Your eyes widened as he pulled out a small blue velvet box and, without hesitation, flipped it open. The soft light of the rooftop glinted off the 1.5-carat diamond ring nestled inside — simple, elegant, and undeniably breathtaking. 

“What’s that?” you asked, your breath catching in your throat.

Bucky arched an eyebrow, giving you a pointed look. “An engagement ring, Y/N. What else?”

“Yeah, I know it’s a ring!” you sputtered, your mind reeling. “But why—how—what are you doing with it?”

Bucky sighed, muttering under his breath, “For someone so smart, she really can’t see what’s right in front of her.”

You barely had time to process the words before he got up from his sitting position and slowly knelt down on one knee. The movement made your heart jump into your throat, your breath hitching as he looked up at you, his eyes softer than you’d ever seen them.

“I want to marry you, Y/N,” he said, his voice firm and sure. “Not because of some bet or joke we made all those years ago, but because… I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to be the one you come home to. The one who makes you laugh when you’re sad. The one who fights for you.”

You felt your chest tighten as the weight of his words sank in, the sincerity in his voice making it almost impossible to breathe. “Bucky… this is—”

“I know this is crazy,” he continued, cutting you off gently, his gaze never leaving yours. “But when have we ever been normal, huh? I’m not asking you to feel something you don’t or to change anything between us. But I am a man of my word, and I’m keeping the promise we made.”

Your mind raced, memories of that night flashing through your mind — the promise, the shared laughter, the way he’d looked at you back then as if you were the only thing that mattered. And now, here he was, years later, kneeling in front of you with an engagement ring, ready to turn that promise into something real.

He took a deep breath, his hand trembling slightly as he held out the ring, his expression almost pleading. “So… will you marry me? Not because you feel like you have to, but because you want to?”

You stared down at him, your heart pounding wildly in your chest. The world seemed to fade away, the only thing anchoring you being his blue eyes, filled with nothing but hope and determination.

“Well? Say something, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice barely a whisper now. “Because I’m dying here.”

You let out a breathless laugh, the tears welling in your eyes spilling over as you shook your head in disbelief. 

“You’re really going all out, huh?” you teased, “Getting down on one knee and everything… how could I say no to a man with such dedication?”

Bucky blinked, caught off guard, and then let out a soft laugh of his own. “Is that a yes, or are you just stalling to make me sweat more?”

You glanced at the ring, then back at him, a playful smirk tugging at your lips. “I guess… if I have to be stuck with someone for the rest of my life… it might as well be you.”

“Yes,” you added quickly, your smile widening as you looked at him with all the warmth and affection you felt. “Of course it’s a yes, you idiot!”

Relief washed over his face, his grin so wide it could’ve lit up the entire rooftop. “You really know how to keep a guy on edge, don’t you?”

“Gotta keep things interesting,” you replied with a laugh, reaching out to brush your fingers against his cheek. “I can’t make it too easy for you.”

His chuckle was deep and genuine, the tension melting from his shoulders as he slipped the ring onto your finger, his eyes never leaving yours. “You can be so mean you know that?”

“Mean?” you scoffed, giving him a playful look of disbelief. “You’re proposing to me, remember? I’m just making sure you know exactly what you’re getting yourself into.”

Bucky shook his head, laughter bubbling up in his chest. “Oh, I know. And I’m still all in, even if you make me work for it.”

You grinned, stepping forward and wrapping your arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug. Bucky didn’t hesitate, his arms coming up to hold you close, his chin resting gently on top of your head. The warmth of his body against yours, the steady beat of his heart beneath your cheek.

Slowly, you pulled back just enough to look up at him, your chin resting on his chest as your eyes locked with his. The sound of the music drifted softly through the air, wrapping around you both like an embrace.

You could see the tenderness in his gaze, the way his eyes softened as he looked down at you. There was something indescribable in the way he held you, his hands warm and secure against your back, as if he never wanted to let go.

“You know,” you murmured softly, a small smile playing on your lips, “I completely forgot about that bet.”

Bucky’s lips quirked up at the corners as he started to sway gently, rocking you both back and forth in time with the music. 

“Yeah? Good thing I haven’t.” he agreed quietly, his voice low and filled with something that made your heart flutter.

You let out a content sigh, closing your eyes for a moment as you swayed together under the soft glow of the rooftop lights, the melody of the song weaving its way into your soul. There was a peace, a sense of rightness in the way his hands rested on your waist, the way your fingers curled into his shirt.

Opening your eyes, you tilted your head slightly, the corners of your lips curving up into a playful smile. “I’m really going to make you regret this, you know.”

He chuckled softly, his thumb brushing gently against your side as he gazed down at you. “Doubt it. But you’re welcome to try, sweetheart—I mean what else could I possibly not know about you?”

Your smile widened as you looked up at him, chin resting on his chest. “Oh, you’ll find out. Just because we’re getting married doesn’t mean I’m not full of surprises.”

Bucky’s eyes sparkled with amusement as he leaned down slightly, his lips brushing against your temple. “Good. I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

“Just remember you asked for it,” you teased, your voice soft as your fingers toyed with the collar of his shirt. “You’re the one who’s committing to a lifetime of never quite knowing what I’ll do next.”

“Yeah?” he murmured, his gaze dipping to your lips before meeting your eyes again, a smile playing on his own. “I guess I like keeping things interesting, too.”

A laugh bubbled up in your chest, and you felt the tension melt away as you both swayed gently to the music. It felt like a new beginning — a promise that whatever came next, you’d be facing it together.

× × × ×

A few months later.

The garden was alive with soft laughter and murmurs as the afternoon sunlight filtered through the canopy of leaves. The air was filled with the delicate scent of roses and jasmine, and the gentle rustling of leaves provided the perfect backdrop for the small, intimate gathering of friends.

Bucky stood under the floral archway, his suit somehow both perfectly fitted and slightly askew in that way only Bucky could pull off. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his fingers drumming absently on his thigh. When you turned the corner, your eyes met his, and you couldn’t help but smile at the exaggerated sigh of relief he let out.

“Thank God you showed up,” he teased, his voice carrying over the gentle breeze. “Thought I’d have to marry Sam instead.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes as you made your way down the short aisle, trying to ignore the way your heart fluttered in your chest. “Yeah, yeah, keep it up, Barnes. He’d leave you at the altar, you know.”

Bucky grinned, his shoulders relaxing as you stepped up to him. “True. He couldn’t handle my morning breath.”

The officiant cleared his throat gently, drawing soft chuckles from your friends. Bucky’s gaze stayed locked on yours, a playful twinkle in his eyes as if you were sharing a private joke no one else could understand.

“You ready for this?” he murmured softly, his tone light but his smile genuine.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” you replied, giving him a small nod.

The ceremony was simple and sweet, with your closest friends standing in a loose circle around you, their smiles reflecting the joy and camaraderie that had always defined your relationship with Bucky. 

When it came time for the vows, Bucky cleared his throat dramatically, pulling a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket.

“I’m not good at this stuff,” he began, waving the paper around, “so I wrote it down. Just so I don’t forget the important parts. Like promising I won’t eat your fries without asking.”

You let out a snort, shaking your head. “So that’s why you’re marrying me? For my fries?”

“Partly,” Bucky said with a wink, earning a few laughs from your friends. “But seriously… I promise to always be your partner in crime. To watch bad movies with you, to be your go-to plus-one for all those events you hate, and to be the one you can call at 3 a.m. when the world feels like too much.”

His voice softened slightly, his gaze never wavering from yours. “I promise to be your best friend, to listen, and to support you. And yeah, to not eat your fries — unless you’re not looking.”

You chuckled, blinking back the unexpected prickle of tears. “Damn, Barnes. Setting the bar high for husband material, aren’t you?”

“Someone’s gotta do it,” he replied with a smirk.

When it was your turn, you took a deep breath, glancing down at your own slightly crumpled paper. “Bucky, I promise to keep being your reality check, to make sure you don’t take yourself too seriously. I promise to help you with your crazy woodworking projects, even when you refuse to read the instructions. And I promise to be your partner in all things — the weird, the good, and the unpredictable.”

Bucky’s grin softened into a small, genuine smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I think we’re gonna be pretty good at this whole marriage thing.”

“I think so too,” you murmured back.

The officiant’s voice broke through the quiet moment, his smile warm. “By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. Bucky, you may now—”

“Wait,” Bucky interrupted, holding up a hand as he turned to you, his expression half-serious, half-teasing. “Can I kiss you?”

You blinked, surprised. “What?”

“You know,” he said, shrugging a shoulder like it was the most natural thing in the world. “This is technically our first kiss. I want to get it right. So… how do you like it?”

A burst of laughter escaped you, the tension in your shoulders melting away as the sheer Bucky-ness of the question made you grin. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”

“Come on, humor me,” he pressed, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Slow? Gentle? Or should I just go for it?”

You shook your head, still laughing softly. “Just… kiss me, you goof.”

Bucky grinned, his eyes twinkling with affection. “Alright, Mrs. Barnes,” he said softly, leaning in. “I’ll make it good.”

His grin widened and shifts a little closer to you, Bucky dipped his head and you felt your noses brush. His breath is on your lips, and you quiver a bit at the odd sensation. Without another moment to spare you realise that he's pressing his lips to yours—it was nothing like you’d expected. His hand slipped to the small of your back, drawing you closer, his eyes fully closed. Bucky was concentrating on the kiss, and you realised that your eyes were wide open. Slowly you close them, hiding away your brilliant orbs. 

Bucky’s lips are oddly doft in this kiss and it stays slow and sweet. He wrapped his arm around you more, lifting you slightly off your feet. The veil fluttered around you like a soft cocoon, and then everything disappeared as his mouth moved insync with you, his kiss remained slowly, his mouth molding against yours in a way that made your knees weak.

His fingers gently tangled in your hair, his thumb brushing softly along your cheekbone as if he couldn’t bear to stop touching you.

But then he shifted, tilting your head just slightly as he deepened the kiss, his hold around you tightening. It was then that you felt him let go completely — every barrier, every wall he’d kept up around himself crumbling as he poured everything into that kiss. 

Somewhere in the distance, you could hear the faint cheers and whistles of your friends—Sam being the most obnoxious—but it all felt like background noise. It was just you and Bucky, wrapped up in this kiss that felt like it had been building up for years. His lips slid over yours with a kind of sweet intensity, a silent confession of everything he hadn’t said — of everything he didn’t know how to say.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead resting gently against yours, both of you were breathless, hearts pounding in unison. He didn’t let go, his arms still wrapped around you as if you might disappear if he loosened his grip.

A soft cheer went up from your friends—Sam being the most obvious— and Bucky’s grin turned almost smug. “How was that?”

You let out a shaky laugh, your hands clutching his shoulders as you tried to steady yourself. “Yeah, Buck. I think you got it just right.”

“Good,” he murmured, his eyes searching yours for a long, lingering moment before his smile widened into something boyish and relieved. “Just wanted to make sure.”

“Don’t worry,” you teased gently, brushing your thumb over his cheek. “You’re not getting rid of me after a kiss like that.”

Bucky’s laugh was soft, his nose brushing against yours. “Guess I should keep practicing, huh?”

You nodded, your grin matching his. “Yeah. Keep practicing, Barnes.”

And as he pulled you in for another kiss, slower and just as sweet as the first, you knew that this — all of this — was exactly how it was meant to be.

× × × ×

1.5 years later

You were pacing back and forth in the bathroom, your heart hammering in your chest. Every few seconds, your eyes would dart to the three little sticks sitting ominously on the edge of the sink — three white, plastic harbingers of potential chaos.

“Come on, come on, come on,” you whispered frantically to yourself, squeezing your eyes shut as if willing the tests to disappear — or at least show some clarity.

How did it come to this? You were supposed to be life partners — partners in crime, best friends — no strings attached, no expectations. Just two people who promised to be there for each other. Sure, you got married, but it was all because of the bet. A way to keep each other from loneliness, you both said. Nothing more, right?

Except somewhere along the line, late-night talks had turned into stolen kisses. Comforting hugs had turned into tangled limbs. And now… this.

“Oh my god, he’s going to flip,” you muttered, running a hand through your hair as you stared at the still-blank screens on the tests. “This isn’t how we were supposed to—”

“Supposed to what?”

You jumped about a foot in the air, letting out a small squeak of surprise as Bucky’s voice filled the bathroom. You whipped around, your heart nearly leaping out of your chest as you spotted him leaning casually against the doorframe, an amused smirk on his lips.

“Bucky! Don’t—don’t just sneak up on people like that!” you stammered, instinctively shuffling over to the sink to block his view.

His smirk widened. “I didn’t sneak. You’re just too distracted, sweetheart.” He pushed off the doorframe, crossing his arms as he stepped closer. “What’s going on in here?”

“Nothing!” you squeaked, your voice a little too high-pitched.

Bucky’s eyebrows shot up. “Uh-huh. So, you’re just hanging out in the bathroom, talking to yourself?”

“Yes!” you answered quickly, nodding like a bobblehead. “Yep, just a totally normal conversation with… myself. Very productive.”

He eyed you, suspicion etched all over his face. “Uh-huh. And why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost?”

“I don’t!” you lied, crossing your arms over your chest as if that could somehow shield you from his scrutiny.

Bucky took another step closer, his gaze flicking over your shoulder. “Then why are you standing like that?”

You moved subtly, trying to casually scoot to the left, but your back hit the edge of the sink. “Like what?”

“Like you’re hiding something,” he said, leaning down slightly to look your directly in the eyes. “What’s behind you, Y/N?”

“Nothing!” you insisted, but your hand twitched involuntarily, knocking into one of the sticks. It clattered onto the counter, bouncing once before rolling to a stop right at Bucky’s feet.

You froze.

Bucky’s eyes flicked down to the test, and his entire expression shifted — from curiosity to confusion to wide-eyed realization.

“Wait… is that a—?”

“No!” you yelped, diving forward to snatch up the stick and hide it behind your back. You stood there, breathing heavily, your face flushed with a mix of panic and embarrassment.

Bucky’s gaze slid back to you, his lips quirking into an incredulous smile. “Y/N, are those… pregnancy tests?”

You glanced around desperately, as if you could conjure up some kind of diversion to steer the conversation elsewhere. “Uh… no? Maybe?”

“Sweetheart…” Bucky stepped around your easily, and in one quick motion, he plucked the other two tests off the sink. He held them up, his eyes wide and eyebrows nearly disappearing into his hairline. “There are three.”

“Yeah, well… you know, the first one could be a fluke, and the second one too, and…” you trailed off, wincing at how ridiculous you sounded.

Bucky blinked, then let out a bark of laughter. “Three tests, huh? You’re nothing if not thorough.”

“Bucky!” you hissed, mortification washing over you. “This isn’t funny!”

“Maybe not,” he admitted, though his lips were still twitching with amusement. “But you’re freaking out over here, hiding them like I wasn’t gonna notice.”

“I wasn’t freaking out!” you lied, folding your arms across your chest again. “I was just… assessing the situation.”

He raised an eyebrow, waving one of the tests in front of your face. “Assessing, huh? And what’s the situation, then?”

You groaned, squeezing your eyes shut. “I don’t know, okay? I haven’t looked at them yet!”

There was a beat of silence. Then—

“Wait, you haven’t looked?” Bucky’s voice was filled with genuine disbelief. “You’ve been pacing around in here, stressing yourself out, and you haven’t even checked?”

“I’m not ready!” you snapped defensively. “I mean… what if they’re positive?”

Bucky’s grin softened into something more genuine, and he stepped forward, gently cupping your cheek. “Then they’re positive.”

Your eyes met his, the sincerity and calmness in his gaze making some of your panic ebb away. “But we’re not even— I mean, this was supposed to be—”

“A bet?” he finished softly, a hint of something unreadable in his eyes. “Yeah. I remember. But bets don’t always go the way you plan.”

You swallowed hard, your heart still hammering wildly. “You’re not… mad?”

“Mad?” he repeated, his expression incredulous. “Why the hell would I be mad? I mean, sure, this is unexpected. But mad?” He shook his head, chuckling softly. “C’mon, Y/N. You really think I’d be mad about having a family with you?”

The words made your heart stutter, and you stared up at him, wide-eyed. “Bucky…”

“Let’s just see what they say, alright?” he murmured gently, stepping back and nodding toward the tests. “No more freaking out until we know.”

With trembling hands, you turned each test over, your breath hitching as you looked at the results.

Positive.

Positive.

Positive.

Bucky’s grin had barely faded before the reality of the situation seemed to really hit him this time. His gaze drifted back to the three tests lined up on the sink, and you watched as his face slowly drained of colour.

“Bucky?” you asked cautiously, noticing the way his grip on your arm loosened slightly.

He blinked, his eyes darting between you and the tests like he was trying to solve some impossible puzzle. “So, uh… positive. All three?”

You nodded slowly, worry beginning to creep back in. “Yeah, Buck. All three.”

“Oh… Oh, wow,” he muttered, his eyes widening. “That’s… that’s a lot of positive.”

“Bucky—”

“I mean, I knew one was a lot, but three—positives?” he rambled, swaying slightly on his feet. “That’s… that’s a whole lot of… baby.”

“Bucky, are you okay?” you asked, reaching out to steady him as his face turned even paler.

“I’m—yeah, I just—” He stopped mid-sentence, his eyes rolling back slightly as his knees buckled.

“Bucky!” you shouted, grabbing for him as he crumpled to the floor in a faint.

You managed to catch his weight just enough to keep him from completely knocking his head on the tiles, though it took every ounce of strength you had to keep him semi-upright.

“Are you freaking kidding me?” you huffed, looking down at his unconscious form with a mix of exasperation and disbelief. “You’re the one who said you’d be fine with this!”

He let out a soft, incoherent groan, his head lolling to the side as you carefully lowered him all the way to the ground and raised his legs above his head for bloodflow.

“Of course you’d faint, you big drama queen,” you muttered, crouching down beside him and lightly patting his cheeks. “Come on, Buck. Wake up. I’m not doing this alone, you hear me?”

After a few more pats and murmured reassurances, his eyelids fluttered open, and he blinked up at you, dazed and confused.

“Y/N?” he mumbled, his voice slurred. “What… what happened?”

“You fainted, you big idiot,” you said, the frustration in your tone softened by the overwhelming relief that he was okay. “Over three little tests.”

Bucky stared at you blankly, then his gaze drifted back to the sink where the tests still sat in a neat row, mocking him with their tiny positive signs.

“Oh… right,” he murmured, his face scrunching up as he tried to process it all again. “So it wasn’t a dream?”

“Nope.” You shook your head, giving him a half-smile. “Definitely not a dream.”

“Damn,” he breathed, a small, disbelieving laugh escaping him as he ran a hand through his hair. “I really fainted, huh?”

“Yeah, you did,” you replied, unable to keep the amusement out of your voice. “And you’re lucky I didn’t let you hit your head.”

He chuckled weakly, his gaze still lingering on the tests. Then, slowly, he reached up, his hand finding yours and squeezing gently.

“I love you, Y/N, you know that?” he mumbled, his voice soft and a little slurred as he still looked dazed. “Not like a friend, but y’know… like, love love.”

You blinked at him, surprised by the sudden confession. A laugh bubbled up in your throat, the ridiculousness of the situation hitting you all over again. “Bucky, you’re still out of it.”

“Yeah, probably,” he murmured, blinking up at you with a lopsided grin. “But doesn’t make it any less true.”

Shaking your head, you leaned down and pressed a kiss to his forehead, your smile softening. “I know, Buck. We’ll talk about that later when you’re not busy fainting over pregnancy tests, okay?”

“’Kay,” he mumbled, his eyelids drooping slightly. “But just… so you know.”

“I know,” you repeated gently, brushing a strand of hair away from his forehead. “Just rest for a second, and then we’ll figure this all out together.”

He nodded slowly, his eyes drifting shut for a moment before he opened them again, looking at you with a sleepy smile. “We’re really gonna be parents, huh?”

“Yeah,” you whispered, your heart swelling with affection. “We really are.”

“Cool,” he murmured, his head lolling back against the bathroom tiles. “Love you, Y/N… love love.”

You chuckled softly, shaking your head as you sat beside him, holding his hand. “Love you too, Bucky. Now, no more fainting, okay?”

“No promises,” he mumbled, but his grip tightened around your hand, as if even in his half-conscious state, he didn’t want to let go.

And as you sat there on the bathroom floor, Bucky still looking a little woozy but smiling up at you with that goofy, endearing grin, you couldn’t help but think that maybe — just maybe — everything was going to be just fine.

× × × ×

First Trimester.

The clock on the kitchen wall glowed a soft, accusatory 2:37 a.m. as Bucky shuffled groggily into the dimly lit space, scratching at his head. He was half-asleep, dressed in rumpled sweatpants and a t-shirt that had seen better days, and still trying to figure out why he’d been dragged from his warm bed.

He paused mid-step when he spotted you sitting at the kitchen table, your shoulders hunched, face buried in your hands. He blinked, his brain struggling to catch up with the situation. “Uh, sweetheart… what’s going on?”

Your only response was a pitiful sniffle, followed by another one. Bucky’s brows shot up in alarm, and he quickly moved to your side, crouching down in front of you.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” he asked softly, peering up at you with wide, concerned eyes. “Did something happen?”

You shook your head, letting out a small, hiccuping sob. “I… I really wanted… chocolate chip pancakes… with whipped cream and strawberries…”

Bucky blinked again, glancing around the empty kitchen as if he expected a stack of pancakes to magically appear on the counter. “Okay… uh… we don’t have any of that stuff right now, but I can go to the store—”

“Everything’s closed!” you wailed, cutting him off with a fresh wave of tears. “And I really wanted it now!”

The sheer devastation in your voice made Bucky’s heart clench in sympathy — but a very tiny, very unhelpful part of him also found it hilariously absurd. He had fought aliens, Hydra agents, and all manner of nightmares… but he’d never faced down a pregnant wife in the throes of a pancake craving at nearly 3 a.m.

“Oh,” he said lamely, scratching his head again as he tried to think of a solution that didn’t involve breaking into the nearest IHOP. “Okay, um… we can make pancakes without chocolate chips, right?”

“But I don’t want plain pancakes!” you cried, your voice wobbling dangerously. “I want chocolate chip pancakes! And… and I want whipped cream on top, but we don’t have any!”

Bucky swallowed, his panic rising as you continued to cry. He was the Winter Soldier, damn it. He could handle this. There had to be a way out of this. “Okay, alright. Just breathe, okay? How about… uh… what if I make you some toast? I’ll put some Nutella on it? It’s kind of like chocolate.”

“It’s not the same!” you sobbed, burying your face in your hands again. “I want… pancakes…”

Bucky let out a helpless laugh, running a hand down his face as he glanced at the empty fridge like it was somehow betraying him. “Baby, you’re killing me here.”

You sniffled, peeking out from between your fingers with watery eyes. “You don’t understand, Buck. I can taste the pancakes. I can taste the strawberries… I can feel the whipped cream…”

Bucky opened his mouth, then closed it again, at a complete loss for words. “Yeah, uh, I can’t pull that out of thin air. But…” He glanced around, his gaze falling on a tub of vanilla ice cream in the freezer. “What if I make you a sundae? It’s kinda like a pancake… just cold.”

“No…” You shook your head, another tear rolling down your cheek. “It’s not pancakes…”

Bucky let out a long, dramatic sigh, his hands resting on his knees. “Okay, okay. Here’s the deal. Tomorrow morning, I’m gonna wake up, and I’m going to go get you all the chocolate chips and whipped cream and strawberries you want, alright? I’ll make a pancake buffet.”

“But I want it now,” you murmured miserably, rubbing at your eyes.

“I know, sweetheart. I know,” he cooed gently, reaching out to pat your head awkwardly. “But unless you want me to bust into some diner and get myself arrested, I’m gonna need you to hang in there for a few more hours.”

Your lips trembled, and you nodded reluctantly, sniffling again. “I’m being ridiculous, aren’t I?”

Bucky smiled softly, his heart melting a little. “Nah. You’re growing a tiny human.” Then, with a mischievous glint in his eyes, he added, “Although, I gotta say, if I can handle your craving meltdowns, I think I deserve some kind of medal. Or at least, like… superhero husband status.”

A small, watery laugh escaped you despite yourself, and Bucky’s smile widened triumphantly.

“There she is,” he murmured, leaning up to press a kiss to your temple. “Look, we can’t have pancakes right now, but how about we get creative? Maybe I can whip something up with what we do have? I’m talking PB&J sandwich sculptures. Or,” he gasped dramatically, “a waffle made out of popcorn!”

Your eyebrows furrowed, but the corners of your mouth twitched. “Popcorn waffles?”

“Hey, don’t knock it ‘til you try it,” he said with an exaggeratedly serious expression. “This could be a revolutionary invention, Y/N. We could change the breakfast game forever.”

You couldn’t help but giggle, wiping at your tears as Bucky’s ridiculousness slowly chased away the lingering sadness. “You’re such a weirdo, you know that?”

“Yeah, but you married me,” he shot back, a grin spreading across his face. “So who’s the real weirdo?”

“Still you,” you teased softly, shaking your head.

Bucky let out a mock gasp, clutching his chest dramatically. “Wow, so rude. No respect for the man who’s about to go MacGyver your snack cravings at 3 a.m.”

You smiled despite yourself, reaching out to take his hand. “Thank you, Buck.”

“Anything for you, sweetheart,” he murmured, squeezing your hand gently. “Now, what do you say we get a little creative in this kitchen and see if we can’t make something that’ll make these pancake cravings shut up for a bit?”

“Okay,” you agreed, the warmth of his hand in yours grounding you. “But I’m holding you to that pancake buffet tomorrow morning.”

“Pancake buffet with extra chocolate chips, whipped cream, and strawberries,” he promised with a mock salute. “You’ve got my word.”

And as Bucky scoured the pantry for the weirdest possible combinations — “How do you feel about a peanut butter, banana, and potato chip sandwich?” — you couldn’t help but laugh, the weight of your cravings lightening in the face of his relentless optimism and willingness to do whatever it took to make you smile.

“World’s best husband,” you murmured fondly as he started arranging sandwich slices into a goofy face.

“Damn right,” he replied with a wink, holding up the plate proudly. “And this? This is my masterpiece.”

You took one look at the ridiculous sandwich sculpture — a lopsided smile made from pickle slices and a beard of crumbled crackers — and the tears came flooding back, but this time they were unstoppable.

“Bucky… you’re… you’re the best husband… in the world!” you sobbed, your shoulders shaking as you buried your face in your hands.

“Whoa, whoa, wait—hold on!” Bucky stammered, his eyes widening in alarm as he quickly set the plate down and moved back to your side. “What… why are you crying? Sweetheart, it’s just a sandwich! A really ugly sandwich, but—”

You let out another wail, shaking your head as more tears spilled over. “No, it’s not that! It’s you! You’re just so—so good, and sweet, and—and I don’t deserve you!”

Bucky froze, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. 

“Wait, what? Where did that come from?” He rubbed the back of his neck, glancing around as if he expected someone to pop out with a manual for how to handle this. “Hey, you deserve everything, okay? Even pancakes at 3 a.m. if I could make it happen.”

“I just… you’re always trying so hard, and you’re just… you’re amazing,” you whimpered, reaching out to grab his hand like it was a lifeline. “And I’m crying because I can’t have pancakes, and I’m a mess, and you’re making me a weird pickle-beard sandwich…”

Bucky stared at you, completely lost, before he finally let out a helpless, incredulous laugh. “Okay, okay, I’m officially out of my depth here,” he muttered, gently pulling you into his arms and patting your back awkwardly. “But hey, let’s save the compliments for when I’m not half-asleep, yeah?”

You nodded miserably against his chest, your sobs starting to subside as his steady heartbeat grounded you.

“Good, because you’re gonna make me cry if you keep this up,” he joked softly, running a soothing hand through your hair. “And no one wants to see the Winter Soldier ugly-cry over a pancake buffet.”

You let out a watery giggle at that, sniffling as you pulled back to look up at him. “You’re really gonna get me all the pancakes tomorrow?”

“Every last one,” he promised, his smile gentle and reassuring. “Now come on, let’s see if we can make this popcorn waffle thing work. You’ll need to tell our kid one day that their mom ate the weirdest thing ever while pregnant,” Bucky finished with a grin, his hand sliding down to gently cup your cheek as he wiped away the lingering tears with his thumb. “That way, when they give us a hard time as teenagers, I can say, ‘Hey, kid, I made your mom a popcorn waffle at 3 a.m. She bettered have loved me.’”

You laughed again, hiccupping through the tears as you tried to calm yourself. “You’re crazy, you know that?”

Bucky shrugged, his lips twitching up into a lopsided smile. “Maybe. But you married me, so what does that say about you?”

“That I’m a glutton for punishment,” you teased softly, feeling some of the tension start to ease as his thumb continued its gentle, comforting strokes on your cheek.

“Or just smart enough to know when you’ve got a good thing,” he murmured back, leaning down to press a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead. “And I’m gonna keep being that good thing — even when it means making bizarre snacks and wrangling your tears at stupid o’clock in the morning.”

You let out a shaky breath, smiling up at him as you looped your arms around his neck. “I love you, Bucky.”

His eyes softened, his gaze locking onto yours as he leaned in to nuzzle his nose against yours. “I love you too, sweetheart. And we’re gonna figure out this whole craving thing. Even if it means starting a midnight pancake truck or something.”

The image of Bucky in an apron, serving pancakes from a food truck, was so ridiculous that you let out a genuine, hearty laugh. “A pancake truck?”

“Why not?” He smirked, his fingers playing with a lock of your hair. “I’d be the hottest pancake chef around. We’d have a line out the door.”

“Because everyone’s desperate for pancakes at three in the morning?” you asked, still smiling.

“Exactly,” he said with a mock-serious nod. “They’d be calling me the Pancake Soldier instead of the Winter Soldier.”

You couldn’t help but burst into laughter again, your earlier tears completely forgotten. “I swear, you’re impossible, Bucky Barnes.”

“Impossible and all yours,” he said with a wink, then glanced at the kitchen. “Now, how about we whip up some sort of Frankenstein snack to tide you over until the morning, huh?”

With another sniffle and a smile, you nodded. “Alright. But I’m still holding you to that pancake buffet.”

“Wouldn’t dream of backing out,” he promised, kissing your forehead again before guiding you to a chair. “You sit right here, and let Chef Barnes work his magic.”

You watched as Bucky moved around the kitchen, his clumsy efforts at ‘creative’ snack-making bringing a smile to your face despite the ridiculousness of it all. He muttered under his breath, concocting weird combinations — “What if we crush some pretzels on top?” — and talking to the food like it would reveal some hidden trick.

Eventually, he managed to cobble together another makeshift treat: a peanut butter, banana, and honey sandwich with a few random M&Ms sprinkled on top for good measure. It looked as chaotic as you felt, but the effort and love behind it made your heart swell.

You stared at the messy sandwich, your lips trembling again — but this time with a whole different set of emotions.

“Hey, no more tears,” Bucky said quickly, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “I’m running out of ideas here, babe.”

“I’m not crying,” you sniffed, reaching out to take a bite. “It’s just… you’re really, really sweet, and I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Bucky let out a soft chuckle, reaching over to give your knee a gentle squeeze. “Lucky for you, you’ll never have to find out. I’m not going anywhere, okay?”

“Okay,” you whispered, your heart feeling lighter than it had all night.

“Good.” He smiled, leaning back in his chair as he watched you take another bite. “Now eat up, because come morning, I’m getting up at dawn to get everything we need for that pancake buffet. You’re gonna be the happiest pancake-eating pregnant lady in the world.”

“And you’re gonna be the best pancake-making husband in the world,” you replied with a soft smile, warmth spreading through your chest.

“Damn right,” Bucky murmured, his voice filled with so much affection it made your heart skip a beat.

As you finished the bizarre snack and Bucky continued to ramble on about potential pancake flavors and topping combinations, you couldn’t help but feel overwhelmingly grateful.

Because, bizarre cravings and all, there was no one else you’d rather navigate the chaos with than him — your best friend, your partner, your ridiculous, wonderful Bucky Barnes.

× × × ×

Third Trimester

Bucky’s overprotectiveness had started out in small, endearing ways—like lingering in doorways or making sure you had an extra pillow at night. But as your pregnancy progressed, so did his paranoia, turning him into an almost comical shadow of your once-confident, battle-hardened husband.

It began with the shoelaces.

“Wait, wait, wait.” He practically skidded across the living room to kneel at your feet just as you were about to bend down to tie your sneakers. You straightened up, raising a brow, watching him fumble with the laces like it was a complex puzzle rather than a simple bow.

“Bucky, it’s just tying my shoes. I can do that,” you pointed out gently, but he shook his head fervently.

“Not risking it. What if you lose your balance?” His words were muffled as he double-knotted the laces, his shoulders hunched like he was shielding you from some invisible force.

“I’m not gonna lose my balance,” you murmured, amused. “I’ve been tying my own shoes for decades.”

“There’s a first for everything.” He tightened the bow a little too firmly, making you flinch. He winced in apology and adjusted it again, softer this time, before peering up at you with those intense blue eyes, a mix of worry and resolve. “Humor me, okay?”

You sighed, relenting with a small nod. “Okay. But just so you know, you’re not going to be doing this every single time.”

He grinned—victorious, as if you hadn’t noticed how he conveniently “lost” all your slip-ons just last week.

Then there was the laundry basket incident.

It happened when you were carrying a half-full basket of towels from the dryer. You’d barely made it halfway down the hall when Bucky materialized out of nowhere, intercepting you like you were carrying live explosives.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa—what do you think you’re doing?” His voice was all mock-seriousness, but there was genuine concern underlining it as he gently pried the basket from your hands.

“Laundry?” you deadpanned, trying to tug it back, but he held firm.

“Not anymore, you’re not.” He shot you a look that dared you to argue as he held the basket up high, well out of your reach. “You don’t need to be lugging this around.”

“It’s not even heavy!” you protested, exasperation seeping into your tone.

He scoffed. “Doesn’t matter. I’ll take it. Just point me to where you want it.”

Grumbling, you pointed down the hallway. “Our bedroom.”

“See?” he said with a self-satisfied smile, striding down the hall like he was conquering new territory. “No big deal.”

You had to fight back an eye roll. “You’re gonna be like this until the baby is born, aren’t you?”

“Probably,” he called over his shoulder, unashamed.

It didn’t stop there, of course. In the kitchen, he’d barely let you near the sink.

One morning, you’d decided to tackle the breakfast dishes—something you could usually manage without too much hassle. But as soon as you set the first dish into the soapy water, Bucky’s hand appeared out of nowhere, lightly shoving you to the side.

“Excuse me,” he muttered, though it was clear he wasn’t asking for permission. “Your belly’s gonna bump into the counter. Let me do it.”

“Bucky—”

“Let. Me. Do it,” he insisted, holding a soapy plate hostage as he gazed at you, lips set in a stubborn line.

With a sigh, you threw your hands up in surrender. “Fine. But I’m not a porcelain doll, okay? I can do dishes just fine.”

“Sure,” he replied, but he was already washing the dishes with focused precision, occasionally glancing at you to make sure you hadn’t slipped or stumbled in the two feet he’d moved you back.

It was both infuriating and endearing, and it made you love him even more—though you’d never admit it when he was acting like a hovering mother hen.

The grocery trips were almost unbearable. He’d insisted on coming along, despite your reassurances that you were perfectly capable of picking up a few items.

“We need milk,” you pointed out, motioning toward the far end of the aisle.

“Got it,” he said immediately, guiding the cart forward with one hand and slipping his other arm around your waist as if to support your entire body weight.

You shot him a look. “I can still walk, you know.”

“Of course you can,” he agreed with a grin. “I’m just… helping you waddle.”

“Waddle?” You narrowed your eyes, smacking his arm lightly. “Did you just call me a waddler?”

“Um…” He glanced at you sheepishly, realizing his mistake a second too late. “No?”

“Yeah, nice try.” You huffed, crossing your arms.

“Alright, alright, bad choice of words. I’m just keeping pace with you,” he corrected, slowing his stride even more so that the two of you were practically moving in slow motion down the aisle.

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head at the ridiculousness of it all. “If we go any slower, we’ll start moving backwards.”

Bucky just chuckled, his arm tightening around you protectively. “I’ll take my chances.”

By the time you reached the milk, you were almost tempted to ask him to sprint the rest of the way just to get it over with. But the truth was, there was something undeniably sweet about having Bucky hover around like this.

“Let me guess,” you teased as you plucked a carton of milk off the shelf. “You want to carry this too?”

“Of course,” he said, already reaching for it, his expression deadly serious.

You held on to the carton just long enough to make him sweat before handing it over. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”

“Unbelievably in love with you,” he replied easily, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your temple.

“Smooth,” you muttered, your lips twitching into a reluctant smile.

With Bucky being his overprotective self, you had no doubt that he’d be like this for the next few months—and likely long after the baby was born. But as much as you complained, deep down, you knew you wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.

× × × ×

“Bucky, for the last time, it’s just a shoe box,” you emphasise, glancing at your husband as he carefully hoists the empty box off the couch like it’s made of glass.

“Doesn’t matter,” he mumbles, eyes darting suspiciously to the plain cardboard. “You shouldn’t be carrying anything in your condition.”

“Condition? Bucky, I’m pregnant, not broken.” You cross your arms, watching as he tucks the box under his arm like it’s a rare artefact. The man is a walking, talking fortress of muscle, but right now, his overprotectiveness is reaching absurd levels.

“And nearly at your due date,” he points out, placing the box on the counter with a sigh of relief as if he’s saved you from imminent danger. “I’ve read all the books. I know how this goes.”

You snort, shaking your head. “Oh, yeah? So what’s the worst that could happen if I pick up a shoe box?”

Bucky turns to you with a dead-serious expression. 

“It’s not about the weight. It’s about…” he falters, eyes scanning your swollen belly, “…stability. Your centre of gravity is off right now. A box could trip you.”

“A box could trip me?” You arch a brow, incredulous. “Really?”

“Yes!” His tone is insistent, and you have to bite back a laugh. This is the same man who once told a pack of HYDRA agents they were outnumbered—just because it was him and Steve versus a dozen of them. But now, he’s reduced to eyeing an empty cardboard box like it’s a mortal enemy.

Sighing, you sit back on the couch, deciding it’s not worth the argument. Besides, there’s a certain charm in seeing the Winter Soldier so worked up over an inanimate object. You lean back, letting out a small groan as you shift your weight.

Bucky’s been hovering around you all day like a lost puppy, eyes following your every move. The moment you make the slightest sound, his head whips around, concern flickering in his eyes. So when you groan, immediately, he’s by your side, eyes wide, hands hovering over your belly.

“What? What’s wrong? Is it time? Should I get the bag?”

“Calm down, Dad-mode. I’m just stretching.” You roll your eyes, but you can’t hide the smile tugging at your lips. “You’ve gotta stop panicking every time I make a sound.”

“Every time you make a sound, it could be something serious!” Bucky exclaims, sounding almost affronted. “Do you know what it’s like hearing you groan and not knowing if it’s ‘I want ice cream’ or ‘I’m about to go into labor’?”

“Sounds like a personal problem,” you tease.

He huffs, muttering something about ‘pregnancy hormones,�� and kneels down in front of you. Strong hands lift your foot gently, and he starts massaging your arch. You sigh, instantly melting under his touch.

“Better?” His voice is softer now, concern etched in every syllable.

“Much better,” you mumble, letting out a little moan as he presses down on a particularly tight knot.

“Hey, hey, hey!” Bucky freezes, eyes wide again. “What’s that? Pain?”

“Relax,” you say, though your voice is slightly breathless. “It’s the good kind of pain. Keep going.”

You lean your head back, closing your eyes as Bucky continues the foot massage. The man has hands that could crush stone, but right now, he’s so gentle you almost feel like you’re floating. It’s hard not to feel a little spoiled under his doting care.

But just when you’re getting lost in the bliss of his hands working away the tension, you catch his face out of the corner of your eye. Bucky’s brow is furrowed, and his expression is one of fierce concentration, like he’s facing down a particularly difficult opponent. You stifle a giggle—only Bucky could make a foot massage seem like a high-stakes mission.

“Alright, alright, enough of that,” you say, reaching down to tug on his hand. “If you keep looking at my foot like that, you might set it on fire.”

Bucky blinks up at you, clearly having forgotten where he was. He chuckles, the sound low and almost shy. “Can’t help it. I just… I want to make sure I’m doing it right.”

“Bucky, it’s a foot massage, not defusing a bomb.” You roll your eyes again, but your heart swells at his concern. “You’re doing it perfectly.”

A faint blush colors his cheeks, but he lets out a small huff, pretending to be grumpy. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Then, without warning, he shifts beside you on the couch, a determined look settling on his face. “Now, hold still.”

Before you can ask what he’s up to, Bucky leans down, pressing his ear gently against your belly. You’re about to ask him if he’s comfortable, but the sheer look of wonder on his face stops you short. His eyes close, and he inhales deeply, as if trying to capture every little movement your baby girl makes.

“Hey, there, sweetheart,” Bucky murmurs softly, his voice dropping to a gentle whisper. His fingers splay across your belly, his thumb tracing small, soothing circles. “It’s your dad. Just wanted to check in on you, make sure you’re being good for your mama.”

You bite your lip, warmth spreading through your chest at the sight. The fierce Winter Soldier, the man with a list of enemies longer than most people’s grocery lists, reduced to talking softly to your baby girl like she’s the most delicate thing in the world.

“She’s probably plotting her escape already,” you joke quietly, and Bucky grins up at you.

“Nah,” he says, eyes crinkling at the corners. “She’s too busy practicing her karate kicks. Isn’t that right, little one?”

Right on cue, a small flutter against your belly answers him, and Bucky’s eyes light up like fireworks. He leans down again, pressing his lips gently against the spot where your baby kicked.

“Whoa, easy there, sweetheart,” he murmurs, a playful smile tugging at his lips. “Save the punches for when you’re out here. We’ve got plenty of training sessions ahead of us.”

You snort, shaking your head at his words. “Bucky, she’s not even born yet, and you’re already planning training sessions?”

“Gotta start ‘em young,” he says seriously, but the way he softens his voice when he turns back to your belly is anything but tough. “But don’t worry, we’ll take it easy. I’ll make sure you get to be a kid and have fun first. No one’s gonna mess with you. Not when I’m around.”

He pauses, his eyes misting over for a brief moment, and you know he’s thinking about everything he’s been through—everything he wants to shield your daughter from. Slowly, he rubs his thumb along your belly again, his touch featherlight.

“And you’re gonna love your mama,” Bucky continues softly. “She’s strong, and she’s funny, and—” He glances up at you, his smile turning mischievous. “She’s a little bit stubborn sometimes. But you’re gonna be just like her, I bet.”

“Great,” you mutter, faking a groan. “Two of you plotting against me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Bucky promises, but the glint in his eyes tells you he’s already imagining all the ways he’ll spoil his little girl.

He shifts again, his head still resting on your belly, and you have to stifle another laugh as he starts a running commentary, complete with exaggerated gestures.

“Okay, so here’s the plan,” he whispers conspiratorially to your baby. “When you get here, you’re gonna kick a lot. Cry a lot. But not too much. Your mama needs her sleep. Then, we’ll team up to get you extra dessert when she’s not looking.”

“Bucky!” You can’t help it—you burst out laughing. “You can’t be plotting behind my back already!”

He grins, looking up at you with mock innocence. “Hey, it’s not my fault if she wants ice cream. Right, sweetheart?”

A few more soft kicks seem to echo his words, and you can’t help but roll your eyes.

“I’m doomed,” you say, shaking your head fondly.

“No, you’re not,” Bucky murmurs, his voice softening again. He presses one more kiss against your belly before shifting to sit up beside you. He wraps an arm around your shoulders, tugging you gently against his side. “You’re gonna be the best mom. And I’m gonna be right here, making sure you both have everything you need.”

You lean into his warmth, smiling as his hand drifts back to your belly, tracing idle patterns.

“I love you,” you whisper, resting your head against his shoulder.

“And I love you,” he replies, voice deep and steady. He leans down, kissing the top of your head. “Both of you.”

With Bucky holding you close and whispering to your daughter, you feel your heart swell with a contentment so strong it almost aches. It’s moments like these that remind you just how lucky you are to have this overprotective, sweet man by your side.

Even if he does go overboard sometimes.

[starlightbright]

RIP Ricky September they had to kill you because it would have been unrealistic to not keep you on as a companion 😔

EDIT: I've noticed some people taking this post really seriously, so to clarify: no, I don't think Ricky was literally a perfect uwu anti-racist angel. This post was mostly a joke about how he was running around doing companion shit and, most of all, how the Doctor and Ruby both thought he was a hottie. My actual feelings about Ricky are that he's a complacent white liberal. Character reading under the cut if you want an explanation.

I do think the implications of making him unplugged from the racism bubble, paralleling him with the Doctor (man who shows up with knowledge about history and technology and guides the other character through dangerous situations), and directly contrasting to Lindy (including being open to trust the Doctor without second guessing him the same way Lindy and all her friends did) are supposed to be that he wasn't like the other people there and is thus LESS racist since racism comes to be what defines their society. I've seen some people basically ask "then why'd he move to White People City?" but within the text it's actually Rich People City; the reason everyone there is white is because systemic racism financially benefits white people. Making him LESS racist is NECESSARY to giving his death any meaning - because if he definitively would have called the Doctor a slur and walked away, then the Dot killing him quickly was a mercy kill because we KNOW all the other residents are going to die in the wilderness.

THAT SAID, I also don't think he was a progressive anti-racist. Do you know what Ricky actually is? A white liberal. He might disengage from the White People Bubble, he might not be outwardly cruel to black people, but he's still surrounded by people who are and benefits from a system where ONLY WHITE PEOPLE ARE RICH. The culture might be fucked, but he still benefits from it without doing anything to actually fight it. It's like how many a white liberal will read about the history of slavery, feel sad about it, and then be uncritical of prison labor. If Ricky was meant to be progressive, there'd be something, ANYTHING in the text about how he's tried to educate his followers on their society's problems, but it got deleted. He is COMPLACENT.

That's sort of the point, I'd say, since the theme is about how priviledged white people put themselves in a bubble of people like them and choose to look away from what's wrong in society. Those people become complacent at best with no effort to actually speak out or change things. Hell, even within the text, Ricky SEES a problem others are looking away from (the slugs eating people), but only tries to fight it by making a TikTok about it and becomes complacent again, accepting that people are just going to be eaten.

So tl;dr: no, I don't think the white liberal kid literally would have been a companion. I think if you stuck him in the Ood episode, for example, he'd have shaken his head when he found out about their plight, maybe made a TikTok with sad music playing over footage of them, and then said "welp, nothing else can be done." I think it's FUNNY to imagine another companion that the Doctor and Ruby both are giggling like schoolgirls over.

Also I kind of thought he was ugly - no offense to the actor but the makeup they had him in combined with the lighting and closeups made him look way older than 27 so he gave off this uncanny "how do you do fellow kids?" look.

[gloomwitchwrites]

The 141 boys and the TikTok trend “everybody knows that I’m a good girl officer”

Firstly, I want to say that in this house, we say "fuck the police (derogatory)" every single day. However, I will indulge in this instance because it's our 141 boys and I think the trend with them would be absolutely smoldering. But I will change it up slightly, and pull from my Bodyguard!141 AU Post as well as lean into a security detail aspect for this one.

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Female Reader

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): swearing, suggestive themes, dirty thoughts, flirting, secret relationship

Word Count: 1.5k

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price

Price adjusts the ear piece in his right ear.

The blasted thing doesn’t fit right. It keeps slipping. It’s irritating but it’s manageable. Not like Price is running anywhere. At least, he doesn’t plan on moving too quickly. His job is to stand and observe. To make look after a certain MP’s daughter, and to take her back to the hotel when she tells you she’s ready to leave.

You are no stranger. Far from it.

And it goes far beyond the grounds of appropriate behavior.

Price has completely stuck his foot in it, bedding you when he isn’t supposed to. Stealing kisses in dark corners, and fucking you behind closed doors. He was hired by your father to look after you, and instead, John has taken it much further than that.

But he doesn’t fucking regret it.

Not at all.

John adjusts his ear piece and scans the room from left to right. You’re not in sight but that doesn’t bother him. This ballroom is packed full of rich schmucks who couldn’t give a shit about him.

He scans the room again, and this time he finds you.

You’re walking toward him, hips moving in a sultry sway that steals John’s resolve. You’re gorgeous. Perfect. And he can’t stop staring.

The corner of your mouth quirks with amusement, and John straightens his shoulders, making himself appear bigger. He needs to look professional. He needs to look like he’s not thinking about all the ways he wants to fuck you.

But it’s hard to focus, and when you approach, you glance over your shoulder at him, words leaving your mouth that John doesn’t entirely catch at first. Your foot pops in the air, and the friend you’re walking with giggles, her hand pressed to her painted lips.

Everybody knows that I’m a good girl, officer.

A good girl.

Yes. You are.

You’re John’s good girl.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

High-stakes missions have always been part of Kyle’s life. It is what he knows. What he thrives on. But between the missions, Kyle keeps working, and not with SAS.

Kyle mostly signs up for security detail at different places around London. Sometimes he might work as a bouncer for a club, or be monitoring people entering a music venue. Sometimes the gigs are swanky, and sometimes they’re not. Kyle doesn’t really mind as long as he’s paid.

That’s the whole point.

He’s saving. Wants to buy a house. Maybe find someone to settle down with. Life is going by fast. He needs some stability amongst all the violence.

And tonight? Tonight, he’s nothing more than a glorified security guard.

He looks the part in all-black tactical gear, and he isn’t the only one. There is an entire group of them all lined up in front of large windows, creating a bit of barrier. The event coordinator expected protests. All there is are a handful of people across the street with signs. They’re harmless.

Kyle doesn’t pay them any mind.

He does watch the regular people walking by on his side of the road. Some people are here for the event and others are just passing through.

Standing on the corner nearby is a small group of young women. They’re all dressed up like they’re heading to the clubs. Kyle pretends he’s not looking, but that would be a lie. There is one he keeps glancing at.

You’re fucking stunning. A beauty.

But Kyle has to remain calm. Aloof. He’s not here for you or anyone except the job at hand.

“Go over there.”

“I can’t!”

“Girl. He is so cute. Do it.”

Kyle casually turns his head, only to find you striding toward him. His throat drops into his stomach, and you waltz past him, pausing just to his right, flipping your hair, and batting your eyelashes at him and then your friends.

“Everybody knows that I’m a good girl, officer.”

Your friends scream, and then you hurriedly run back to them as if you’ve done something you shouldn’t.

A good girl? Sure you are, love.

Kyle smirks and looks away, doing his best to hide a growing smile.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Simon sits in the driver seat of a large, black SUV. His fingers are itching for a cigarette. He needs the smoke—to feel the burn. To rid himself of some of this agitation.

It’s not annoyance. It’s not frustration. And it sure as shit isn’t anger.

No. Simon has a fucking rager in his pants, and his thoughts are filled with images of you. You—who he’s supposed to be protecting. Escorting you to and from events, pushing back the crowd, and keeping a firm lock on where you are at all times.

The black dress you’re wearing tonight is made of flimsy material. It clings to every curve and swell. Simon is hungry—a feral animal that couldn’t stop stalking you throughout the event.

Now, he’s about to take you back to your hotel. And he knows you’ll invite him in. He knows that the little black dress you wear will be nothing but a pile on the floor in due time.

But this need in his bones isn’t just Simon’s fault. You were a fucking tease all evening. You were bad. Openly flirting with other men in front of him, drinking more than you should have, and genuinely being a little terror to his sanity. All this behavior will only get you punishment. A punishment he’s happy to deal out once he has you behind a closed door.

A car door clicks, and Simon glances up, expecting to see you slide into the backseat. You’re not there. You’re next to him. In the front passenger seat.

“What the fuck are you doing?” asks Simon, his knuckles white as he grips the steering wheel.

You shrug and settle in. “Don’t know what you’re talking about,” you reply, leaning on the middle armrest.

Simon can smell your perfume. “Buckle up,” he growls, and you do so casually, as if you don’t hear his irritation.

He pulls out into traffic, and the moment the two of you are clear of the building, Simon feels your hand on his thigh moving dangerously close to his dick.

“This bad behavior needs to stop.”

Your body shifts and you sing-song the next words out of your mouth. “Everybody knows that I’m a good girl, officer.”

The words are bit slurred. You’re completely pissed, and Simon cannot help but laugh. No punishment then. Not tonight at least.

But tomorrow?

Absolutely.

John "Soap" MacTavish

This isn’t Johnny’s usual job, but it’s easy work.

Usually, hired security and local police take care of concerts and sporting events, but the military has been called in for this one, and Johnny is fine with that. Again, it’s easy work, and they’re paying him more for it.

He stands in one spot, scans the crowd, and acts casual while looking downright intimidating. The intimidation isn’t hard. They have him completely decked out in all-black tactical and balaclava included. All you can see of Johnny are his eyes.

It’s fun, actually. When he put it all on, he pretended to be Simon, only to receive a swat upside the head for it from the man himself.

Johnny has his hands casually resting on his bulletproof vest. No one is really looking at him, and those that do quickly look away. But there is one he can’t stop looking at.

You’re so damn cute, and you can’t stop glancing at him either. You’re with friends, and you keep smiling in his direction. If this were any other night, Johnny would approach you, flirt a bit, maybe even ask for your number. Might even take you home with him if you were open to it.

But Johnny is on the job, and he can’t afford to do that.

As you move closer to him through the crowd, one of your friends keeps saying something to you, moving their hands as if urging you to do something. Johnny isn’t sure what, but he’s curious. You don’t look like danger, and there is nothing about your demeanor that says that you’re looking to cause trouble.

Maybe it’s the balaclava. That seems to be a thing now.

As you approach, there is a pop of your foot, a quick flip of your hair, and a stunning smile. Your friend holds up her phone and you turn away from Johnny briefly to say “Everybody knows that I’m a good girl, officer.”

I bet you fucking are, love.

Your friends giggle with pleasure, and you quickly move away from him but not before you glance over your shoulder one last time, mouthing a silent “thank you.”

taglist:

@km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @miaraei @cherryofdeath

@enarien @saoirse06 @ferns-fics @unhinged-reader-36 @miss-mistinguett

@ravenpoe67 @tulipsun-flower @sageyxbabey @mudisgranapat @ninman82

@lulurubberduckie @leed-bbg @yawning-grave81 @azkza @nishim

@haven-1307 @voids-universe @itsberrydreemurstuff @spicyspicyliving @keiva1000

@littlemisscriesherselftosleep @statixx-x @umno-yeah @blackhawkfanatic @talooolaaloolla

@sadlonelybagel @kadeeesworld @iloveslasher @sammysinger04 @dakotakazansky

@suhmie @jaggersinclair @jackrabbitem @lxblm @beebeechaos

@no-oneelsebutnsu @kidd3ath @certainlygay @thewulf @lovely-ateez

@arrozyfrijoles23 @gingergirl06 @eternallyvenus @smileykiddie08 @vrb8im

[pyrettawychwiggin]

Nanami Kento Relationship Headcanons

(Nanami through the phases)

Warnings: none. This post is SFW, and is mostly full of fluff.

Acquaintance (I'm just another face in the crowd)

• This isn't a love-at-first-sight type of situation. Romance is so far from his mind in general, and as far as he's concerned, it's off the table, no matter who it is.

• If you're another sorcerer, you're just another colleague - his only concern is whether or not you're competent. If you're a non-sorcerer, you're just another stranger in the world trying to make your way however you can. Nothing more.

• He treats you no different than any other person, with painful indifference and total professionalism. Short responses - no longer than is required to get a point across.

• Any time you'd try to have some form of friendly chat or banter with him, you're met with little more than a 'hm' or an ' I see' before he would return to what he was doing.

• His responses would only be a little longer if it pertained to work or if it were absolutely necessary.

Friend (If you slip and fall off-track - I'll carry you on my back)

• It took a long while to get to even this point with him, but he's less guarded around you - only a little. It's not that he doesn't trust you; it's just how he is with people. The difference is that when he asks about your day, he genuinely wants to know - it's no longer an obligatory means of the bare-minimum 'polite conversation between strangers/colleagues' type of situation.

• You're one of the few people he'll ask out for drinks after work. He's a good drinking partner, and he always tends to buy the first round. This is around the time you realize just how well he can hold his liquor. The man can drink like a fish, and it takes him an insane amount before he seems to show any subtle signs of inebriation. That being said, he's a pretty quiet drunk; he'll sway a bit more when he stands, and his ears/cheeks will turn a little redder, but he tends to stop before he even gets to that point.

• He has genuine respect for you (even if you're also a Jujutsu Sorcerer).

• You get to see him crack a small smile on occasion. Even though he's not typically one for jokes, you're one of the few people who make him chuckle.

• He knows how you take your coffee and/or tea (or what you prefer if you don't drink coffee or tea). If you're a colleague, he'll sometimes bring you something from the coffee shop if he'd happened to stop by to pick up a coffee for himself.

• (If you're a sorcerer) He trusts you to be able to handle yourself, and doesn't feel the need to babysit you on missions. He knows your style pretty well, and is able to adapt his own to better compliment yours if needed. Still, he's always looking out for you in his typical 'Nanami' way.

• (If you're not a sorcerer) He keeps an eye out for you when he happens to be around; making sure you're not stuck dealing with some unknown minor curse. If you do happen to catch the attention of a curse, he'll go out of his way to deal with it for you - though you'd never know it; he doesn't want to bring you into his messy world by telling you things you don't need to know.

• All in all, Nanami is a fiercely loyal friend. He has your back through anything and everything, even if that means giving you a scolding for doing something foolish.

Crush (I've got my eye on you)

• Once you catch his eye, he almost seems to become a little less talkative around you than he was before. At first, you're worried that you did something wrong.

• If anything, he's kind of in shock. These feelings just came out of nowhere for him, and he's not really sure how to handle it.

• He specifically did NOT want to be romantically involved with anyone while he's in this field of work. In fact, he's fully intending to keep his feelings to himself and just hoping that they go away over time, even if you're also in the same business of fighting curses.

• Any signs of affection are extremely subtle - almost imperceptible - but they are there.

• When he brings you your coffee/tea/etc. he now always pairs it with some sort of sticky note message. Nothing cutesy - just a simple 'have a good day' or 'stay safe.'

• When you're around each other, he seems to stand a little closer than usual - especially if it's crowded, he takes the opportunity to stick almost shoulder-to-shoulder with you (but he always says a quick 'apologies' when he does).

• You have your own ringtone and vibration pattern, now - though he hasn't brought it to anyone's attention; not even yours. Your ringtone changes from his usual default to something different so he can hear if it's specifically you contacting him. Your vibration tone is a subtle 'bzt-bzt' that he noticed sounded like a heartbeat. Whenever he hears that tone or that vibration, he tends to stop what he's doing to check his inbox.

• You've never noticed, but if someone seems to be eyeing you, be it a creep or just some would-be troublemaker, he's able to subtly put on that scary-dog aire which never fails to deter them from coming anywhere near you. In fact, one time, he happened to notice some creep was following you home after work while he was driving by, so he pulled over to the curb beside you and got out of his car to greet you. 'It's not safe to be out alone in this area this late. Let me drive you home.'

Before you can say anything, he's gently leading you to the passenger's side door, opening it for you to let you in before carefully closing it behind you. As he's moving around the car to get into the driver's seat, he's sure to flash a death glare to the stalker (and no one - and I mean NO ONE - can death glare like Nanami).

Once he's arrived at your place, he suggests carpooling with him after work. Even if you decline, he requests that you text him when you get home. Either way, this starts a trend of you two either carpooling home or texting each other most nights.

• You have noticed that his usual habit of buying the first round of drinks has turned into him picking up the entire tab basically every time.

• You are the only person that has ever seen this stoic man flustered. The first time you saw him remove his glasses, you complimented the amber colour of his eyes. He cleared his throat and scratched the bridge if his nose, flushing with a 'thank you.' You heard from Gojo later that day that Nanami seemed to be in a better mood than usual for the rest of the day.

• He actually compliments you, now - and not just for work-related things. He keeps it simple, but one day he notices you'd changed something small - maybe the way you parted your hair, the way you did your makeup, maybe you shaved, or he noticed the perfume/cologne you were wearing, maybe a new accessory you bought - and he makes a point to say something (ie; 'Ah, you changed your hair part. It looks good.')

Dating (What would happen if we kissed? Would your tongue slip past my lips?)

• This was not what Nanami was intending to happen. You either had to make the first move, or once you noticed the hints he was unintentionally dropping, you practically had to pull it out of him. He was convinced, without the shadow of a doubt, that his feelings were completely one-sided.

• If by some chance he were the one to make the first move, however, he had originally decided to confess to you in hopes that his feelings would pass once you'd inevitably turned him down. You could imagine his surprise when you returned his feelings. He decided it would be best to take you out for lunch at a coffee shop you both liked to frequent. After you'd taken your seats, you noticed that he seemed nervous. That's when he tells you.

• Either way, once you both decide to start a relationship, he turns out to be a textbook-perfect boyfriend. He holds doors open, buys you gifts, plans great dates, gives great massages, and he's a shockingly good kisser. He's also unsurprisingly great at communication; he likes to talk things out, and is very solutions-oriented, so the two of you may disagree on occasion, but you rarely 'fight.'

• His only real failing as a boyfriend (at least early on in the relationship) has everything to do with his habit of being a workaholic. It can be hard to make time to spend time together outside of work, and when you do, he's often rather tired, though he tries not to show it.

• You two didn't share an official 'first kiss' until the end of the third date. You'd hugged, held hands, cuddled, and you'd both even come close to kissing a couple times, but neither of you wanted to make the other feel rushed or uncomfortable. He'd kissed your hand, fingers and forehead before, but at the end of your third date, as he was dropping you off at your place, he asked you to wait a moment before getting out of his car. He started to lean forward and gently slipped a hand on your jawline, holding intense eye contact for a moment before asking if it would be alright for him to kiss you. You basically just managed to get a 'yes' out and his lips were on yours in the blink of an eye - as if he'd been unable to think of anything else for his entire life. All too soon, he pulled away an inch, letting out a deep sigh of relief. He drifted his thumb gently over your bottom lip and smiled. 'You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that.'

• He seems to exhibit many forms of the love languages, but his most prominent are acts of service, gift giving, and physical touch.

Long-Term (Come with me, my love, to the sea - the sea of love)

• Nanami always enjoys his dates with you, regardless of what you're doing, but he specifically loves dates where the two of you get to learn something together. Taking classes, be they painting, cooking, dancing, learning a language, etc. he finds them to be the most interesting.

• Nanami asked you to move in with him about a year into your relationship. The first day you came 'home' after work, he'd made a point of being there first so he could set up a 'welcome home' banner and prepare a nice in-home date night for the two of you.

• Coming home to you is easily the highlight of most of his days. His favourite post-work ritual is to slide off his tie, unbuttoned the top few buttons of his shirt, and to fall into you to cuddle on the couch together.

• He loves when you read books out loud while he's curled up with you, feeling your fingers running through his hair. It never fails to put him at ease.

• After having taken many cooking classes together, the two of you can flawlessly work around each other in the kitchen - something many couples seem to struggle with.

• It was about 3 years into your relationship when you realized he has a shockingly nice singing voice that he rarely uses. One evening, the two of you were slow-dancing in the living room when he started humming a song in a low, smooth tone that took you by surprise.

• Nanami's always had pretty good fashion sense, but he enjoys coordinating his outfits with yours, and low-key revels in getting to show you off a little when you're out together.

• He never forgets anniversaries - ever. He remembers that during your first anniversary, you bought him a midnight blue silk tie with a simple wave pattern that he adores, and makes sure to wear every anniversary without fail.

Married (After all this time, I'm still into you)

• The two of you take at least a one week long vacation together every year; but for your 5th anniversary, he pulled out all the stops. We're talking a first-class flight to a private villa by the sea with a balcony and an ocean view that boasted some of the most incredible sunsets imaginable. After spending the week getting absolutely pampered with amazing meals, couples massages, and anything under the sun that the two of you wanted to do, he presented you with an envelope.

You opened it to see that he had purchased the ocean villa so the two of you could come back any time you wanted; but that's not all.

He had signed it under both his name, and under a 'Mrs. Nanami Kento.' You looked at him in shock as he rose to his feet and dropped down on one knee beside you to offer you a ring with your favourite stone.

• The wedding was, in a word, perfect. He had a blast planning it with you, and the entire event went off without a single hitch. It was small, beautiful, elegant, intimate, and perfect for both of you. You like to joke that the two of you had a future in event planning if Jujutsu Sorcery stopped being an option.

• It's not long before he (and you, if you were also a sorcerer) decide to retire from Jujutsu Sorcery to open your own business together - be it event planning, a restaurant, a bakery, etc. which goes on to be incredibly successful.

• This man never stops trying to win your heart. Even decades into your marriage, he's always trying to find new ways to charm you and sweep you off your feet.

[birdiewritessometimes]

Hiii!!! Could I please request something with Hotch where the reader works at the bau assisting with caseload but she just has like a mostly professional relationship with him but then when hotch takes Jack trick or treating they accidentally end up in her neighborhood and Jack insists on going up to her house?? I’m so obsessed with him like having to come to terms with his attraction to her🩷🩷 no worries if this isn’t your vibe but much love anyway!

Trick or Treat

A/N: Hiii! This was so cute, it was totally my vibe! I hope you like it and thank you so much for requesting! I'm sorry if it's alittle short tho <3

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x reader

Themes/warnings: Fluff

Word count: 900-ish

Please do not copy or translate my work!

The stress was weighing down on Aaron Hotchner, it was Halloween, he knew Jack was waiting for him at home to go trick or treating. He was stuck in his office, trying to finish the reports from his latest case as quickly as possible. As he was reading through a report, he heard the familiar clicking of your heels as you neared the door to his office. A soft knock was heard on the open office door, as he looked up, he saw you there, a stack of reports in your arms.

“Please go home to Jack, Hotch, I’ll take care of the rest.” You said, a small smile on your face. He let out a tired sigh, closing the report he was reading.

“Are you sure? I did promise him to take him trick or treating.” He said as he surveyed you standing in his doorway. He would never admit it to himself, but you were beautiful as you stood there, the light from the bull pen illuminating you from behind, creating a halo of light around your silhouette.

“Of course! Take him trick or treating, I’ll read through these and file them.” You said as you now walked into his office, grabbing the reports that laid on his desk. Hotch rose from his seat, grabbing his coat before stopping in front of you.

“Thank you, y/n, really.” He said, a small smile on his tired face, before he left the office. You were left alone in his office, and you lingered for a moment, a smile on your face, before you went back to yours to sort the reports. It took you a couple of hours to read through and file the teams reports before you could make your way home. When you got home, you turned the light on your porch on, placed the big bowl of candy you had bough by the door and went to get more comfortable. You took a quick shower and changed into a pair of comfortable silk pyjamas, opting for comfort and style considering it was Halloween and it was inevitable that you needed to open your door. You poured a glass of wine and made yourself comfortable on your couch, putting on a movie. The doorbell rang a few times, kids trick or treating, and you saw some creative costumes. You were in the middle of the movie as the doorbell rang yet again. Placing your glass on the table and pausing the movie you went to the door and opened it.

“Trick or treat!” Came the small voice of none other that Jack, your boss’ son. He was dressed in a suit and tie; he looked remarkably like his dad. Your eyes travelled from Jack to his dad who stood there speechless. His eyes travelled over your form as you stood there, smiling at his son. He couldn’t deny it this time that you were absolutely beautiful, your hair was down, you were in your pyjamas and Aaron couldn’t help but feel like he was intruding on your night off. You crouched down to look Jack in the eyes.

“Who are you dressed as Jack?” You said, an amused smile on your face as you placed quite a lot of candy in his bag.

“I’m daddy!” He said, proudly making you chuckle, you could hear Aaron chuckle as well.

“Well, you’re just as handsome.” You said with a wink before you rose to your full height again, now coming face to face with your boss, whom you just called handsome. Jack turned around to his dad, happiness in his face.

“Did you hear that, daddy! I told you we needed to go to miss y/n’s house.” He said excitedly making you rise an eyebrow at the man before you. Aaron let out an embarrassed chuckle as he met your eyes.

“He insisted that we went to your house since we were in the neighbourhood.” Aaron said, a small smile on his handsome face.

“I’m sorry if we bothered you.” He then added, feeling slightly guilty to have interrupted your night, when you had helped him out just hours before.

“Nonsense! This was a really nice surprise.” You said, a soft smile on your face. Hotch’s heart did a leap when you directed that smile to his son, who was beaming up at you. You really were beautiful. He couldn’t stop the thought, like he usually did around the office. He couldn’t repress his attraction to you, not now when you were standing here in front of looking so soft and gentle, it was like you didn’t even witness the gruesome things your job entailed.

“You look beautiful.” He’d let it slip before he could control himself. He felt like ice water washed over him at his slip. Jack looked up at him with wide eyes and so did you, before your face broke out in a smile.

“Thank you.” You said, still smiling. You made some more small talk before Jack insisted on continuing, not wanting all the good candy to run out. With a smile you closed your door as Aaron and Jack started to make their way to your neighbours.

“Miss y/n is really pretty.” Jack said, in an honest way only a child knows. Aaron let out a chuckle.

“She is.” He confirmed, dreading the next time he needed to go into the office, needing to repress his attraction to you again.

[lovetei]

AaAaaaHHHHHH I loved your “Things that the citizens of the Devildom witnessed that will prove that this Human have the characters at their beck and call” post lol :P

Could you plssssss do it w the side characters? Especially barbatos I love him. He’s my bbg lol

Sure, I'm actually just waiting for someone to request it :P

--------------------------------------------------

Things that the citizens of the Devildom witnessed that will prove that this Human have the characters at their beck and call

Versions: Demon Brothers, Side Characters

Warnings: Slight yandere themes (Barbatos, Simeon)

Links: Masterlist

--------------------------------------------------

DIAVOLO

He doesn't actually like going around

Sure, it's mentioned a lot of times that he want to visit this or that

But only if you or the others are willing to come with him

Otherwise it's as boring as doing paperworks

He won't even come out to meet important personalities

They need to come to the castle themselves because there's no damn way Diavolo will actually use effort to meet people he's actually not too close to.

But when it's you?

Damn, you better bet the moment you told him "Hey, Diavolo... I'm kind of stuck in the plaza and the brothers are surely too busy to pick me up so can you send me a driver..?"

How dare you ask for a driver?

When he's literally right there?

The moment the words "I'm kind of stuck in the plaza-" He's already in his most luxurious car starting it to get his future spouse

Hell, he'll even bought a flower before getting to you

And you two will make a scene

And you two will surely make it to the news tomorrow

He'll arrive to the place in something quite formal yet still casual

With a bouquet of flowers in his hands

Like the perfect future husband he is

And open the door for you to get in

And if you're asking why Barbados didn't do anything against him...

Well, he's got a few mouse friends there for help.

Anyways, enjoy the ride

And sign the marriage papers

Please

BARBATOS

His power holds such an important role for Diavolo

He's such a powerful "demon"

It would actually be quite nice if you were just a little more closer to him

But if you are...

He's willing to use this oh so important power for you like it's just a mere toy

You fell on the stairs and someone saw it? Reversed.

You failed a test? Reversed.

You made the wrong decision? Reversed.

If Diavolo actually saw how much he's rambling the time lines just for you he'll go insane.

Hell, he'll pass out when he knows that Barbatos is letting you use his power like he's some hourglass!

But Barbatos knows you

And he likes you

He knows that someone like you won't actually take advantage of his power like that

And would always choose to do things without it

He knows that he's your last resort

And he loves it

He loves that fact that you treasure his power so much

That you treasure him so much...

His power might seem to be the most important tool for you among the other abilities the brothers and the others gave you

And so that basically puts him above the food chain

And he'll stay there

He'll make sure you will view him as important as right now

For all internity

SIMEON

He treasures himself and the people around him so much

But mostly himself

Because that's what father told them to do

He treat his body like the temple of god

He'll walk around the Devildom with pride in himself

Not too much but not too less

He knows his worth

So when he met you

Such a wonderful human

He will also teach you how to put pride in yourself

And always be proud on what you're doing

And then he'll start to get drawn to you

The body he oh so treasured now treated like a toy for you

He once valued naturality but maybe using this makeup you love so much will make him appear more attractive?

"Oh, Simeon? Did you use some foundation and mascara?! That looks so good on you!"

Yes, MC.

Just look at him

It all started with dressing up more for you

Then it escalated

The body he once didn't let anyone touch is now open for you

Just for you

Hold his hand

Grab his waist

And use his shoulders

Ha...

God won't punish him for a little touch now would he..?

SOLOMON

He's shady and he knows it

It's been so long and he's been around may too many people

He doesn't know who to trust anymore

And who to be honest with

He always have to keep himself alarmed and ready

Because that's what the past taught him to do

And that's what the present is telling him to do

Oh, another human?

How nice...

He just hope you don't end up like him

Overly conscious

You know what... He'll help you

He doesn't want a human to fall to the same hole he is right now

He thought that he'll be the one to guide you

He didn't know that you'll guide him...

And now he's willing to do anything for you

He's willing to follow you anywhere

He's willing to give you anything

He's willing to be your loyal servant

Just like Barbatos, he's willing to use everything he have just keep you by his side

Whether it be human, demon, angel connections, money or power

It can be anything and he'll give it you

To the human who showed him the light once again.

MEPHISTOPHELES

He's a private person

That's why he has a whole ass room reserved just for him in the academy

It can't help but have his blood boiling whenever one of the brothers barging into his room unannounced

The sense of nervousness won't leave him whenever Diavolo came to visit him

And the mixed feelings when the other exchange students decided to drop by

But when you enter his room

The light started to get a little darker

And the atmosphere turned into something heavier yet more comforting feeling

Have you drank anything you're not supposed to drink human?

What's this atmosphere around you human?

Did you... Cast a spell on him human?

To be honest

It'll be better for him to know that you cast a love spell on him

Than for him to consciously know that he's falling for you

Falling for the human others already love

But he can't help but say "Why don't you stay a little longer, MC?" Whenever you drop by.

"You can stay and do your assignments or whatever here. I have a vast collection of books you might need."

It might be selfish but why don't you stay a little longer?

Stay inside this private room with him

And only him.

RAPHAEL

He's known as a hitman

And his job down here is to probably spy on Simeon or Lucifer

But this weird human caught his eyes...

Maybe he should spy on you too?

Hmm... Why are you so different?

Are you the premium version of human?

But either way...

He saw how tired you were after each day ends

It looks like this place have sucked any living hope and energy out of you

So he took this as a problem and decided to come up with a solution

He decided to help you run around errands and even take some of your work loads

Gosh... You're so busy

So tiring

Sometimes you two will just find yourself in the dark and unused alley of the school

Sitting on the floor with each others head on your shoulder

You'd mutter "So tired..." And he will pat your head to help you at least have a few minutes of nap between work.

And before he knows it

It became a habit for the two of you

Instead of going to the dark alley you decided to take some nap in the cafeteria and even on empty classrooms

The Brothers will not found you two scattered all over the academy sleeping on each other

And before he even noticed

Whenever the slightest danger occurs he's already jumping in front of you and pushing you back as he shield your fragile body

THIRTEEN

She's such a trouble maker

And you're an expert in keeping trouble makers in line

And Thirteen will make sure she don't follow that line!

She keeps on pulling pranks

Traps here

Traps there

Gosh will she ever stop

Then one day you got so busy that your usual scolding for her didn't happened

Not even once

She felt empty without your nagging voice I guess?

But that doesn't matter!

At least, now, no one will stop her from doing what she loves!

No one...

Will stop her?

But who will scold her when she's about to do an extremely dangerous prank where she might get hurt?

Who will treat her wounds when she accidentally scratched her with one of her schemes?

It's been just a few days without your nagging voice and she's already at your doorstep in the middle of a night on a weekend asking

"Are you ignoring me?"

"Why aren't you talking to me anymore?"

"Are you tired of me now..?"

It feels like she'll start crying if she says anything more so you just denied everything and said that your schedule have been fully packed

Even saying that you're a new member of the council so you became more busy

She felt so embarrassed after that

But she started to treasure your relationship more

And maybe...

Waiting in the line is not that big of a deal if it's for you...

[anniflamma]

For the past three days, my mom and I have been exploring Washington DC, and it’s been an experience! We managed to see the major memorials, like the Lincoln, Washington, and WWII Memorials. Then we went to the National Museum of African American History and Culture. We didn’t see all the exhibits, but we caught the most important ones.

The food here hasn’t been amazing—good at best! I got an $8 ice cream that was so frozen to the core, I had to wait for it to melt so I could eat it. Then, knowingly it would be dangerous, tried a bubble tea from one of those neon-colored food trucks. It was mostly milk, condensed milk, and artificial flavoring, not much bubble tea. My mom got sick from it, so we sat down on a bench. But by sitting there, we got to see a sun halo! It was a faint one, but still really cool.

My favorite stop was an exhibit at the Artechouse museum with a theme around the deep sea and the Twilight Zone. It was small but beautiful.

We also visited the National Museum of the American Indian, where we saw all the displays. The setup took us along a timeline showing interactions between different Native American groups and the colonizers, and how the so-called 'peace treaties' came about. It started with a 'we’re all friends here' theme, but it ended with a video showing how colonizers immediately broke the treaties and committed genocide against Native Americans.

One photo really stuck with me. When the state kidnapped children to 'reeducate' them, there was a picture of one of these reeducation schools. Right outside, you could see tents where parents camped outside, waiting for their children to be released and show they hadn’t abandoned them. It was a heavy and powerful image. It will be in my minds for a long time.

But now, we’re off, leaving Washington for the next town!

[rosemariiaa]

𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 01, 𝙅𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙖𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙪𝙨𝙚𝙧.

“I wish I was a normal girl, oh, my How do I be,

how do I be your baby?”

rosie speaks: ahh first chapter! i’m really excited to see how this series goes..(i hope you guys are too). i do wanna say I will not be dropping chapters back to back just because ik each chapter will be long enough and also i have other things to do. but you never know what i have up my sleeve sooo just wait! i actually did cry a lot writing this so yw. happy reading lovelies 💌

pairing: Paige x Azzi

themes: hurt/comfort, mentions of depression, some fluff

enjoy!!!

May, 2014. Virginia MN

Azzis days felt like she was wading through an invisible fog, where each step felt heavier than the last. She moved through school in a daze, surrounded by classmates and noise but feeling distanced from it all, as if she were behind a glass wall. Teachers spoke, friends laughed, yet nothing seemed to reach her, and nothing seemed worth responding to.

She leaned against her bedroom wall, her gaze fixed on the ceiling, the thoughts came like waves, too heavy to escape but too constant to ignore. At home, the silence only deepened. Her puppy was her only real source of comfort, a small warmth that reminded her she wasn’t completely alone.

Yet, even with him there, the sadness was like a relentless wave, threatening to pull her under. As she lay in bed, Azzi’s mind circled around her own thoughts, dark and tangled, the weight pressing down on her chest. Sometimes, she felt the urge to cry, but the tears would stall. Other times, they would pour out uncontrollably, as if her body knew it needed to release the heaviness she carried.

Azzi remembered words that lingered in her mind like a mantra:

“Cry. Cry for an hour, cry for a day, cry for a week. Cry until you can’t cry anymore, until the tears stop coming, until you feel better, until you heal.

Crying is your body’s way of releasing sadness; let it out and then let it go.”

But the letting go part felt impossible.

She knew she was lucky—talented, even—but that didn’t stop the weight pressing down on her, making everything she did feel more like a chore than a choice.

Sometimes it felt like she was just going through the motions: school, basketball practice, homework, repeat. But there was a deeper loneliness, one that made her question what any of it even meant. Every now and then, she’d think, Would anyone even notice if I disappeared for a day? A week? That quiet thought haunted her, lingering in the back of her mind as she navigated her days, waiting for someone to prove it wrong. But no one ever did.

Grabbing her laptop, she opened up her anonymous Blogspot account. Writing had become her escape, a safe place to let her thoughts spill out without anyone knowing they were hers. She’d been posting as @unicornpuppy35 for a while now, hoping someone out there might understand her, even if they never knew her name. A new notification popped up.

Azzi blinked at the screen, surprised to see a comment on her latest post. It was from someone called @boogers_p.

“hey, I saw your post about feeling stuck. I get that. I feel like that a lot, too.”

For a moment, she almost ignored it. Just another user on the internet, right? But something about the way they’d phrased it struck a chord. She found herself typing back before she even knew what she wanted to say.

unicornpuppy35: Oh yeah? What’s got you feeling stuck?

The reply came quickly.

boogers_p: lol, how much time u got? but mostly… everything’s just movin’, and i’m still here. it’s like ur doing all this stuff, but half the time u can’t even tell if u actually care abt it.

Azzi frowned, feeling that weird sense of familiarity in the words.

unicornpuppy35: Exactly, like a constant loop. But what’s the point, right?

boogers_p: fr! it’s like… i’m goin’ thru the motions but who even knows why.

A smile tugged at her lips. Whoever this was, they got it. They actually understood what she was feeling. And it was strange, but it made her feel just a little less alone.

unicornpuppy35: So, what’s your thing? Like, if you had to pick.

boogers_p: lol basketball. but sometimes i’m like… is this all there is?

Azzi blinked. Out of all the things they could have in common, it was basketball. Funny, or maybe just ironic.

unicornpuppy35: Wait, seriously? Are we living the same life or what?

boogers_p: guess that means we’re stuck in the same boat, huh?

Azzi let herself relax into the conversation, forgetting for a moment that she was talking to a stranger. She leaned back, fingers tapping against the keyboard.

unicornpuppy35: So, if we’re both stuck… what’s the plan? How do we get out?

boogers_p: girl, if i knew, we’d be out already, trust. maybe we keep chattin n figure it out.

Azzi laughed softly, a weight lifting from her shoulders that she hadn’t even realized was there.

unicornpuppy35: Deal. Looks like I just made a new friend.

There was a pause, then @boogers_p’s next message popped up.

boogers_p: btw, ‘unicornpuppy35’? gotta ask: what’s the story there?

Azzi rolled her eyes, smirking as she typed back.

unicornpuppy35: What? You don’t like it?

boogers_p: nah it’s cool, just funny. u like unicorns that much?

unicornpuppy35: Who doesn’t like unicorns? And I have a puppy, so it made sense at the time.

boogers_p: lol alright then, unicorn girl.

unicornpuppy35: “Boogers” is somehow less embarrassing to you?

The reply was fast.

boogers_p: hey! don’t come for my name. so do u even keep up w ball like that?

Azzi laughed, a real laugh, and typed, I mean, I love the game, especially the wcbb, but I barely keep up with men’s college basketball.

boogers_p: WHAT i can’t believe that …u at least know who Kyrie is right??

Azzi smiled, rolling her eyes as she typed, I know who he is, I just don’t watch him like that. I’m more into Breanna Stewart.

boogers_p: ohh okay stewie’s dope. but trust, kyrie’s handles r insane. hold up lemme get u the link.

Azzi barely clicked on the link before skimming, smiling at Paige’s excitement.

As Azzi sat back, scrolling through this user’s texts, a small part of her was overwhelmed by everything, like a weight on her chest she couldn’t quite shake off. It felt strange how this stranger’s blunt and funny messages could draw her out of her own head—even if just for a bit. She was used to feeling invisible, yes, her struggles buried under her quiet exterior, but this strangers presence, even from behind a screen, felt real.

A few seconds ticked by as she sank into her thoughts, that weight of loneliness and uncertainty creeping in again. She knew people saw her as the “soft one,” but beneath that, her emotions felt raw, and she wondered if anyone truly understood.

Suddenly, her phone screen lit up with rapid notifications.

boogers_p: hellooooooo? did u leave?

boogers_p: r u asleep already or smth??

Azzi’s lips turned up in a small smile. She quickly replied.

unicornpuppy35: “Geez, relax. I’m still here.”

boogers_p: “finally! thought I lost ya for a sec. kinda rude to just ghost me like that, you know?”

Azzi smirked, typing back slowly.

unicornpuppy35: “Yeah, yeah. Guess I was just thinking.”

boogers_p: “Ooooh, deep thoughts? Or like… deep-deep thoughts?”

Azzi hesitated, fingers hovering over the keyboard, but she quickly brushed it off.

unicornpuppy35: “nope, just regular deep, I guess.”

boogers_p: “good, I thought you might’ve been drafting your escape from my endless questions.”

unicornpuppy35: “ y’know you’re kind of funny , i’ll give you that. lol”

boogers_p: “ik ik. btw, where do you go to school? And don’t tell me it’s some fancy private place or whatever.”

unicornpuppy35: “Haha, what are you, a stalker? why do you wanna know?”

boogers_p: “what? nah, just curious! alright, lemme guess… you seem like a midwest kid. Iowa?”

unicornpuppy35: “nope, not even close. Try again, Sherlock.”

boogers_p: “alright, alright… new jersey?”

Azzi laughed, shaking her head at her screen.

unicornpuppy35: “nope. You’re pretty bad at this, you know.”

boogers_p: “whatever, I’m warming up! Um… cali? bet you’re like, all into the beach.”

unicornpuppy35: “keep guessing P! maybe you’ll get it right before I graduate.”

boogers_p: “damn, you’re killin’ me here. fine, one more—Texas?”

unicornpuppy35: “Guess you’re gonna have to stay curious, stalker.”

“P” sent a string of laughing emojis, clearly frustrated but amused.

boogers_p: “oh, okay, I see how it is. mysterious and all that. fine, keep your secrets.”

Azzi smiled, finding herself genuinely entertained by Paige’s playful determination to figure her out. It was nice, having someone care enough to ask.

Azzi shook her head, laughing at the sight of P typing “helloooooo?” over and over.

unicornpuppy35: Still here! Just still laughing at your terrible guesses.

boogers_p: ohhh shut up 😆 one day you’ll tell me!

As they continued chatting, Azzi couldn’t help but feel a little lighter, like maybe she wasn’t quite so alone after all.

————-

I glanced at the clock in the corner of my screen. Midnight. Crap. How had it gotten so late?

unicornpuppy35: alright, P, it’s late. I should get some sleep—school tomorrow and all 😊

I typed, hesitating for a moment before hitting send. I didn’t want the conversation to end, not when it felt so… easy.

The reply came almost instantly.

boogers_p: lame but yeah, same here. don’t oversleep, though, or I’ll roast you about it next time

I smiled softly, my fingers moving across the keyboard.

unicornpuppy35: gnn P

boogers_p: night unicorn, catch you later.

I closed my laptop, leaning back against my pillow with a soft sigh. My room was quiet except for the gentle snuffling of my puppy curled up at the end of the bed. I hated how much I didn’t want to stop talking to her—or whoever she was—but I could already hear my mom’s voice in my head if I overslept tomorrow.

Still, the flicker of warmth in my chest wouldn’t go away. For the first time in a while, I didn’t feel so alone.

————-

The warm weight of my puppy’s paws jolted me awake, followed by his enthusiastic tongue licking my cheek. I groaned, shoving him away gently before squinting at my phone.

“Crap.” 7:40. At least practice was after school today, but I still had school before then.

“Azzi!” Mom’s voice carried from the kitchen, sharp and frustrated. “Do you even know what time it is? You’re going to be late—again!”

“I know, Mom!” I called back, stumbling out of bed and tossing clothes around my room.

When I finally trudged downstairs, backpack slung over one shoulder, she was waiting, arms crossed. “Do you? Because this is becoming a habit. You need to start taking this seriously, Azzi. Coaches notice stuff like this.”

I rolled my eyes, grabbing a grabbing a piece of nutella toast from the plate on the counter. “It’s not like I’m failing or anything.”

“That’s not the point!” Her voice rose a notch, and I flinched. “You’re juggling basketball, school, and everything else. If you can’t manage your mornings, how are you supposed to handle the rest?”

“I’ve got it under control.” The words came out sharper than I intended, and guilt immediately twisted in my stomach.

She softened slightly but shook her head. “You have so much potential, Azzi. I just don’t want you to waste it. That’s all.”

I sighed, hugging the puppy briefly before heading out the door. “I won’t.”

Her voice followed me, softer now. “Make sure you don’t.”

As I stepped outside, the crisp morning air hit me, making me shiver slightly. My puppy barked once from the window, his tail wagging furiously. I couldn’t help but smile, even as Mom’s words echoed in my head.

She wasn’t wrong, but sometimes it felt like the pressure of living up to everyone’s expectations, especially hers was just all so suffocating. I jogged toward the bus stop, earbuds in, my mind already racing through the day ahead: school, practice, and maybe—if I had time—another chat with P.

The bus ride wasn’t much better than waking up. Just the usual hum of the engine and kids mumbling into their phones. I leaned my head against the window, the cold glass biting at my cheek, and zoned out. School wasn’t exactly a place I looked forward to.

By the time I walked into first period, I was already tuning out the chatter around me. The teacher called for us to break into groups, and I found myself sitting with three classmates who barely glanced my way.

“We should start with the data chart,” I said, glancing at the worksheet.

“Yeah, yeah,” one of them mumbled, already scribbling something down.

Another classmate leaned over to add something, completely ignoring what I’d just said. My lips pressed into a thin line. This wasn’t new. It was like my words existed in a bubble, bouncing off everyone and disappearing into thin air. I tried again.

“If we divide the work, we’ll finish faster—”

“Wait, no, let’s do this first,” someone interrupted, their voice cutting over mine.

I stopped mid-sentence, letting my pen drop to the table. They didn’t even notice. Just kept talking like I wasn’t there.

I didn’t bother saying anything else for the rest of the class. It wasn’t worth it.

By lunch, I was drained. I slid into a chair at the edge of the cafeteria, next to a group of friends who were already knee-deep in some conversation.

“Azzi, did you see that ridiculous shot Ty took in practice yesterday?” one of them asked, barely waiting for my answer before launching into their own commentary.

I nodded, offering a small laugh. It wasn’t worth jumping in. Every time I tried to add something to a conversation, it either got talked over or shifted in another direction.

But it didn’t stop me from noticing.

As I picked at my food, my thoughts drifted back to last night’s chat with P. They actually listened. Responded. It felt… different. Maybe that’s why it was still on my mind.

————-

By the time I got to practice, my head was already in a fog. It felt like no matter where I went, no one really saw me. At school, at home—was it too much to ask for someone to actually listen?

“Azzi, let’s go! You’re up!” Coach’s voice snapped me back. I jogged to the front of the line, grabbing a ball. Simple drill. Layups. Easy.

Except I missed.

“Come on, Azzi!” one of the captains called, exasperation clear in her voice. My jaw tightened.

I grabbed the rebound and tried again, but my footwork was off. The ball clanged off the rim.

“Focus, Azzi!” Coach barked.

I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat, and got back in line. When my turn came again, I nailed the layup, but the damage was already done.

As we transitioned to scrimmage, it only got worse. I called for the ball—wide open on the wing—but my teammate didn’t even look my way. I sprinted to the other side of the court, yelling louder this time. Nothing.

“Azzi, move the ball!” someone shouted when I finally had possession, cutting me off before I could even make a decision.

It was like being invisible. Nothing new though.

By the time practice ended, my legs ached, and my chest felt even heavier than when I’d started. I stayed behind to shoot free throws, trying to shake off the weight.

One ball after another swished through the net, but the sinking feeling didn’t budge.

By the time I finally walked out of the gym, the sun had dipped low, painting the sky in soft pinks and oranges. My legs felt like lead, and I slung my bag over one shoulder, the strap digging in just enough to annoy me. God.

I spotted our car parked at the far end of the lot, Mom’s silhouette visible through the windshield. She was scrolling on her phone, waiting. I sighed, tugging my hoodie tighter as I trudged toward her.

As I got closer, I caught sight of my brothers in the backseat. Jose was watching something on his tablet, headphones on, and Jon was playing with a Rubik’s cube. Lucky them—they didn’t have to deal with “the talk” I was sure was coming.

The second I opened the door and tossed my bag onto the floor, Mom started in.

“So, your coach called me today,” she said, her tone sharp but controlled.

I froze, mid-seatbelt click. Great.

She said you’ve been distracted. Not focused. Is something going on?”

I stared out the window, watching the streetlights blur past. “I’m fine,” I mumbled.

“Azzi, ‘fine’ isn’t good enough. You’re not putting in the work, and it’s starting to show. You need to get your head in the game. You think colleges are going to be interested in someone who’s half-assing it?”

Her words stung, but I bit my tongue, glancing at Jose and Jon in the backseat. Jon was tapping away on his tablet, and Jose had his headphones in. Good. I didn’t want them listening to this.

“I’m not half-a wording it,” I said quietly.

“Oh, really? Because that’s not what I heard today. Your coach says otherwise.”

I clenched my jaw, willing myself not to argue. I couldn’t let this turn into something bigger, not with my brothers right here.

“Mom, I said I’m fine,” I repeated, more firmly this time.

She sighed, shaking her head. “Azzi, you can’t afford to slack off. You’ve worked too hard for this. Don’t throw it all away now.”

I stared straight ahead, tuning her out as best I could. My chest felt tight, but I refused to let it show. I nodded along, letting her words wash over me without sticking.

When we finally pulled into the driveway, I bolted from the car, mumbling something about needing to shower. The second my bedroom door shut, I collapsed onto my bed, burying my face in the pillow.

For a few minutes, I just lay there, letting the weight of the day press down on me. Then I grabbed my laptop and opened the chat.

unicornpuppy35: “hey, you around?”

The reply came quicker than I expected.

boogers_p: “yup what’s up?”

I hesitated, fingers hovering over the keyboard. How much could I even say without sounding like I was whining?

unicornpuppy35: “rough day.”

boogers_p: “wanna talk about it?”

I stared at the screen. Did I?

unicornpuppy35: “not really. just needed a distraction.”

boogers_p: “fair. ok, here’s a distraction: what’s your dream ice cream flavor? like if you could invent anything.”

I blinked at the random question, a laugh escaping before I could stop it.

unicornpuppy35: “that’s… so random.”

boogers_p: “that’s the point. distraction, remember?”

boogers_p: “but… you do know you don’t have to push it down, y’know? sometimes it helps to just let it out. Especially with me.”

My chest tightened again. It wasn’t like I didn’t want to talk—I just wasn’t sure how.

unicornpuppy35: “oh um okay, it’s just been a lot. school sucks, practice was worse, and my mom’s acting like I’m throwing my whole future away. But what’s the point in saying anything? It’s not like it changes.”

I stared at the screen, half-wishing I could take it back. But, I typed again.

unicornpuppy35: “it’s like… everybody talks to me like I’m supposed to change. like they’ve already decided what’s wrong with me and what I need to do to fix it. but how am I supposed to change when I don’t even know who I am yet? it’s like no one cares about that part.”

The typing bubble appeared almost immediately.

boogers_p: “damn, unicorn. that’s real. people are so quick to act like they know what’s best for you, but they don’t live your life. you don’t owe them anything.”

I felt a lump rise in my throat as I stared at P’s message.

unicornpuppy35: “exactly. like… they’ve already made up their minds, and nothing I say matters. but I don’t even know who I’m supposed to be yet. And then when I try to figure it out, they’re just like, ‘No, not like that.’ it’s so exhausting.”

boogers_p: “i get it. they want you to follow their script, but maybe their script sucks. you’re allowed to write your own, even if it takes time.”

My fingers hesitated over the keyboard. I feel the tears running down my cheeks and falling onto the keypad.

unicornpuppy35: “sometimes I feel like I’m never gonna figure it out. like I’ll just keep messing up until everyone gives up on me.”

P didn’t reply right away, and for a moment, I worried I’d said too much. I’m trying my best to wipe the tears that are falling, but they just won’t stop coming.

But then their message popped up

boogers_p: “ listen to me. you’re allowed to take up space, to mess up, to figure things out in your own time. screw what everyone else thinks. you’re not a project they get to fix.”

A shaky breath left my chest, and I swiped at my eyes before more of my tears could fall onto the laptop.

unicornpuppy35: “thanks, P. I mean it. you’re the only one who really listens.”

boogers_p: “anytime you’re stuck with me now, remember?”

I didn’t mind that one bit and for the first time all day, I let myself breathe.

————-

Minneapolis, Minnesota

I stared at the screen, the cursor blinking against the blank message box. Her words replayed in my mind like a song I couldn’t shake off.

“Nobody listens. Nobody sees me.”

I didn’t know what to say back, not really. Azzi didn’t just sound tired—she sounded done. And it scared me more than I wanted to admit.

My fingers hovered over the keyboard.

“Azzi…”

I typed..wanting to send but no.

I couldn’t. Not yet.

————-

taglist ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

@thaatdigitaldiary @patscorner @ohbueckers @sierrale8ne @mrsarnold @absolutelydreadful @authentic-girl03 @lupinqs @d3arapril @pboogerswbb @imaginespazzi

₊˚ෆ always lmk if u wanna be added to my taglist muah ₊˚ෆ

[808len808]

Breaking point

!Pupppy Leon S. Kennedy x Gender Neutral Reader!

Summery: Your poor pup was to scared to tell you that he's going into heat.

Authers note: I don't know what this is, I wrote half of it while I was drunk and the rest I wrote in the span of a month so the first part of the story is a bit messy, but I promise it gets better. !Disclaimer: by puppy Leon I mean a hybrid, I do not support zoophilia!

!Warnings!: Nsfw themes, "Reader" can be all genders.

(Words: 4,405)

(sorry if it's cringe 😭)

The summer had ended, well at least the vacation. it was the most awesome vacation of Leon’s life! You were home every single day, he went where you went day in and day out. To the park, lake, and forest, but also at home. He got all the attention. But now you had to leave for work again for 5 days a week from 9 to 5 and he was stuck at home, waiting for his precious owner to come back.

He spent most of his time just lying down in spaces where your scent was strongest, couch, bedroom, those spots. Usually, he’d stay on the couch sleeping or thinking about you, how you would greet him with a smile when you came back, how you would pet that special spot between his ears, his tail already started wiggling at the thought of it. 

Fuck, this was too hard. He looked at the clock; only 3 more hours, but for him it felt like years, mostly because he couldn’t sleep anymore, and because he really had to go out for a walk. 

He got up from the couch and went to the kitchen to see if you had accidentally left any food for him to grab, but unfortunately nothing, he could try to stand up and grab something from inside the cabinets, but then he would feel bad for disobeying you, then he wouldn’t be a good boy.

Ever since the summer vacation, he felt the need to be around you so much stronger, he felt the need to be with you at all times, to receive praise, to be held, to be cradled, and most importantly to please you. 

His ears perked up, suddenly feeling something in his stomach, it was weird, he went over to your bedroom your scent only growing stronger just like the feeling on his stomach. When you first adopted him you didn’t let him into your bedroom at all hoping to make a clear line between owner and pet but along the summer that line started to fade. The few nights he would spend the night curled up against you on your bed were the best.

He felt incredibly proud even thinking back to one of those nights, just sleeping next to you, your fingers going through his hair until he fell asleep. 

A huff grasped through his nose whiffing up your scent, his nose going up in the air. A small shiver went down his spine as he continued sniffing, trying to pinpoint the strongest scent, it was a whole different scent that he smelled, it reminded him of sweat but different much nicer, much more attractive, like it was pulling him towards itself. 

He followed his nose eagerly, coming to the bathroom connected to your room, he stopped in his tracks. He’s never been in your bathroom. He stared at the scary door gulping, he still had plenty of time before you would arrive home, but he already felt bad contemplating breaking your rules, well you never specifically said he couldn’t go in there… the times he tried, you had told him to wait outside or wait in the living room because you were having “alone time” whatever that meant. 

But now he was alone, he took one glance behind him, checking if you hadn’t suddenly come back. Luckily you didn’t, so he went in gently opening the door. It was just a regular bathroom, shower, toilet, sink with a mirror, so where did the scent come from?

Leon’s eyes scanned the room until he spotted the hamper, placed in the corner. He quickly hopped his way over, looking to claim his price. He stuck his nose in the pile of clothes in the hamper, all yours and a few of his garments. 

He never used to wear clothes, it wasn’t normal for hybrids to do, but since he was more on the human side -the only dog thing about him being his tail, ears, and senses, having human parts, and being able to do human things, he could walk and talk but it was just a harder to do so, he preferred not to but ever since he got off the streets, and adopted you learned him to do so,  also made him wear clothes. He still preferred to be shirtless so he would crawl his way out of them every chance he got.-

anywayyyy back to the story.

His hands mixed in throwing things away until he found the source, one pair of underwear more specifically your underwear. He happily took it in his mouth without a single thought. Proud to have found what he was searching for he went back to his crate, taking the used garment in his hands as he laid on his soft mat sniffing it until he dared to lick. An intense feeling sent shocks through his body, he felt something beneath him twitch. He didn’t register what happened. A breathy huff escaped his lips, but it sounded more like a whine. Hot flashed his face, taking another lick just to test if it would happen again, it did. 

His belly tingled a small sense of excitement filled his mind, he continued to lap only making the ominous feeling between his legs grow nose buried in the piece of clothing, curled up in his bench. 

He didn’t even realize he had fallen asleep when you came back, he excitedly sprung up, tail wagging behind as you turned the key into the lock greeted by Leon’s big blues you closed the door behind you before getting down to pet him, he eagerly leaned in your touch small puffs leaving his nose as you pet his head to the place between his ears back to under his soft jawline. 

“I missed you so much!” Leon excitedly told you almost panting. 

He looked so excited you felt bad stopping now, you walked over to the couch, Leon almost blocking your way by circling around your legs. “Come here,” you giggled as you invited Leon to the space next to you on the couch. You didn’t have to tell him twice, he immediately jumped to the spot landing half on you in an over-enthusiastic way, he pushed one hand on your thigh encouraging you to continue petting him, which you gladly did.

“I was sooo lonely, I missed you so much, it’s so boring without you! I’m so so happy you’re back!” Leon rapidly bladdered making you chuckle a bit, he was always so energetic which could be tiring but you didn’t mind right now, it was actually kind of nice to have someone who was always excited to see you. 

Minutes passed, and he was still pressed against you talking your ear off with things he had thought of today, your petting eventually slowed into soft strokes, Leon’s tail slowed down as he ran out of things to say a big content smile on his face his ears were back eyes closed almost purring into your touch. So relaxed. 

It was all your normal routine until you spotted something particular, your underwear, in Leon’s crate. Your brows furrowed looking back to the innocent puppy next to you. After a bit of thinking and mostly contemplating what to do about it you got up from the soft cushions. Leon perked up confused at the loss of touch. He saw you walk over to his crate crouching down to examine your piece of clothing like it was a crime scene. 

“Leon? What’s this?” you asked looking over your shoulders to meet his worried eyes. He knew that look, and immediately he was stressed, Oh no did he do something bad? He really didn’t want to be a bad boy! What did he do?!

Leon tilted his head in shame not wanting to respond. Not knowing what to say, scared he would make it worse.

“Come over here,” you ordered, your voice rather sweet than commanding, hoping to not worsen Leon’s nervousness any further He hopped off the couch and did a small walk of shame to the crate, tail tucked between his legs, next to where you were crouched he sat down, trying to prove that he was still a good boy. 

“Well?” you started to get impatient. The scared dog avoided your eyes, going back to the now wet underwear. “I-… I just missed your scent…” Leon pleaded, looking up to you trying to win you over with his sad puppy eyes. You narrowed your eyes thinking of a way to teach your pup that this wasn’t okay, but you just couldn’t find it in you to punish him, until he spoke up again. 

“I just- it tasted so…good” Leon explained further as if it would help him, it didn’t, in fact, it did the opposite.

The gears inside of your head finally spun. Your scent, he wanted all your attention, the way he pawed at you all the time, this wasn’t a pet owner situation, he was attracted to you. 

You gulped deeply staring into Leon’s eyes, nothing but innocence and worry, the poor thing probably didn’t even know what he was feeling. Your lips pressed together into a thin line, you needed to stop this before it got out of hand even when you felt bad doing it. 

You picked your undies up, moving to stand up. Leon stayed down his eyes following your every move. “Leon,” you started putting away your feelings, you needed to set boundaries, you needed to be responsible here. “You can’t pick up my clothes, those are mine, not yours.” He looked down at his hands, anxiety spreading over his face, but you weren’t done yet he needed to learn there were consequences to his actions.

“I also do not want you to go into my room or the bathroom while I’m not home.” He absently nodded seeming like he was at the brink of tears for being called out alone. “Now I know you hate this, but you need to learn that there’s consequences to your actions.” His head shot up, panic in his eyes as you strictly pierced his eyes with yours. “no-no-please,-I’ll be good-I’ll never do it again-please,” he tried but you didn’t budge you stood your ground while pointing at his cage, Leon already knew what was coming to a terrified look on his face -god he is so dramatic- as you pointed to his crate. 

“No-no-no!”He franticly shook his head. “please, I don’t wanna go!” He pawed at your ankles pleading. You stood your ground. “Leon,” you warned, he knew he was only making it worse by begging but he really, really didn’t want to go on the crate. “Please-I’m sorry- I’m really-sorry- please!” He looked at you from where he was sitting his bottom lip trembling as he felt his eyes start to water.

“I’m not going in! I can’t- you can’t make me!” He raised his voice, which made you glare down at him. Immediately his ears went down as he felt himself cripple under your glare. 

“Bad. Boy. Go in your cage.” Tears started to fall you felt guilty for hurting your precious pup, especially about making him cry, but you didn’t let it show, you stayed cold and emotionless. He let out a small whimper as he obliged, unable to deny your order, he looked back almost betrayed, like he hadn’t had this coming. 

“It’s just for the night,” you said as you closed the bench trapping Leon in the iron bars, a soft mat, and a blanket on the ground (because you are not a monster) his fingers clamped around the bars. You left, you had eaten out, so you didn’t have any more business in the living room. You made your way back to your bedroom, throwing the clothes Leon had spread across the bathroom back into the hamper, throwing away your underwear later. 

So there he was, he had been so excited to be around you all day, and he actually could do that right now, be curled up against you snuggling but no, instead he was trapped in this cage, this prison the restraint that kept him from going to you. He sighed feeling betrayed in some way. He didn’t understand what he had done wrong, of course, he knew that picking your clothes was wrong, but getting punished for it, that’s a bit too much.

You never punished Leon ever, so this was really strange. Leon was confused but mostly felt bad, so very bad for making you disappointed in him. He curled up on the crate hugging the blanket in sorrow pretending that it was you as the last lights went out. 

-

The morning came agonizingly slow for Leon, the lack of sleep making him hump up as you entered the room, he sat up tail already swooshing side to side regardless of his exhaustion. You walked in your pajamas to his bench Leon’s fingers grasping the metal begging for his release. 

You kneeled down to his level, right in front of him. “Are you going to be a good boy?” you asked tilting your head in a questioning way, he nodded as fast as possible. “Talk,” you demanded. “Yes, yes I’ll be good,” he begged, half shaking the bars, you complied unlocking his “prison”. 

He almost jumped onto you making you sit back down on the ground. “I’m so sorry- it will never happen again, I promise, I promise,” he repeated over and over again as he tried to get you to hug him, you let out a breath chuckle and complied, “It’s okay sweetheart.” You pet his head to which he smiled even more leaning in your touch as he always did. 

And there it was again, that funny feeling in his stomach. At first, he thought it was just hunger, but the more you pet him the more he wanted to stay closer to you, press against you. The arousal pooling in his stomach stayed even when you pulled away, even when you fed him, even when you went out for a walk, and even when you left for work again. 

Leon was left alone with that unfamiliar feeling in his stomach leaving him to do the figuring out, Leon lay on his signature place on the couch. You had bought him a book for him to read. A simple book, just to help Leon fit in with the human side of him, also forcing him to walk upright on his feet when in public, he found it hard and tiring but he wasn’t about to disappoint you, not after he already did. 

So maybe that was why he was picking up the book, and starting to try and read it. It was easy enough. As time passed the feeling in his stomach tightened, like his organs were tormenting him. It wasn’t necessarily unpleasant, more like a neediness for something, only he didn’t know what. 

It came to the point where he couldn’t focus on the words anymore, his problem shadowed all his thoughts and made sure it was impossible for the poor pup to think straight. The only thing he noticed was that his pants felt small, smaller than usual, even when he had gotten used to them by now, they suddenly felt too small.

Leon frowned putting the book down to finally try and do something about his problem, he looked down to check if he could see anything from the outside. His face lit up as if he had just opened the previously used oven, and slapped the heat in his face, down his body making his skin tingle.

His hands followed the skin of his stomach expecting to find some kind of bruise or lump, but nothing only hot skin. His hand found its way to his pants to see if he could feel anything there. He let out an embarrassingly loud whine as he felt the bulge tenting his pants. His eyes dared to look down, only gasping at the sight, his hands weren’t betraying him, there really was a huge bulge. 

Contemplating what to do he experimentally cupped it with his hand through his pants, a whine even louder ran over his tongue, so hard that he swore he could hear it echoing through the walls.

But it felt good, it felt sensitive, but in a good way, in a very very good way, he has to feel it again. He slightly squeezed the bulge making his stomach turn in a way that felt so satisfying he couldn’t help but double over. 

Leon could feel his body trembling not used to these sensations at all, but he couldn’t stop, he started to create a small friction for himself, trying to satisfy this overwhelming need he suddenly felt. 

His hips involuntarily jerked up in his hand making his crotch throb as a whine left his mouth, his eyes closing in concentration trying to find whatever he needed, but it was hard to think, he felt so powerless, so desperate for something, but what was that something? 

Leon’s hand slightly sped up making him pant. His whole body felt on fire, so hot, he felt the need to take his suffocating clothes off but was too overwhelmed to do so. 

He kept going his legs trembling hands shaking sweat making everything stick together, but it still wasn’t enough, Leon didn’t understand, he never felt this, and frankly, he didn’t understand one bit of it. 

Eventually, his member felt like it was going numb. Leon desperately kept going even when it was starting to hurt, but to no avail, it just wasn’t enough. His hand stopped and so did the friction, his thoughts coming back to him together with a worried feeling, what even was that? What happened? He was left feeling guilty somehow like he did something shameful even when it felt so good. Was it bad? Was Leon doing something bad? 

He started to feel stressed, it feels bad now… and he really didn’t want to disobey you again especially when he was already put in the crate yesterday. Just then the lock turned, Leon’s ears perked up he hadn’t even smelled you, his arousal taking up all the scent in the room. 

Leon quickly jumped off the couch tail turning into a blur by how hard it was wagging. He was more excited than ever to see you. He whined a bit as he struggled to walk over to the door, the now painful bulge rubbing against his pants, he needed to get them off but that was not the priority right now. The priority was you.

You opened your front door, Leon’s face immediately greeting you, you always loved to come home to him, and his sweet smile, it grew only brighter as he saw you. (2 meninges 😧😏) 

“Hi! how’s your day?” Leon immediately spoke as you walked in hanging your coat up and sighing not noticing Leon’s state.

“It was fine” you shrugged putting away your shoes and patting Leon’s head. “How about you, have you been a good boy?” You said grinning as Leon grew red. “Mhm, I’ve been good all day,” Leon answered only it was a lie, a lie because he wasn’t a good boy. He did something new and it felt bad so so bad and he was scared to tell you. What if you’ll put him in his cage again? He’d rather lie than be imprisoned again. 

You walked over to the kitchen picking out food from the cabinets. “Yeah? What you do all day pup?” Leon followed you into the kitchen looking at the ingredients you put on the marble countertop. 

Leon thought his tail still rapidly swinging behind him. “I read like you told me to.” Leon smiled sheepishly at you ignoring the pain he was feeling downstairs. He could ignore it, he would ignore it for you. 

But eventually, you break, eventually, you burst, as any normal person does. A pup can’t hold something that big from you, and hide his pain…

His breaking point came at midnight. 

He was happily cuddled by you, he adored being small spoon. Until he woke up, drenched in sweat, panting, every piece of skin sticking to something. Leon groaned the world coming to him as he awoke his eyes and mouth dry. Waves of pain hit him from his crotch through his legs, a small whine escaped as he looked down, it was still the same, it was a wonder you hadn’t noticed yet. 

Leon’s whole body was in a state of fight or flight his senses heightened. He couldn’t take this anymore. He whined again as he stood up, legs trembling under his weight as he made it to the bathroom. He felt like throwing up. He struggled to grab a hold of the sink hoping for some stability but the cold on his sweaty hand only made him hiss. 

He was hot and cold at the same time, was it some kind of fiver? No this was different much different. Another wave of heat surged through Leon’s body his face red his lungs having trouble keeping up with his heavy breathing. He couldn’t look at himself in the mirror, his eyes caught glimpses down his body but none registered. With whines still leaving him he clawed at his clothes trying to wiggle his way out of them. The pants dropped to the tiles and so did his shirt everything was off but still he was as hot as one can be.

It was all too much and what was worse was that he didn’t even know what was going on. At this point Leon didn’t care if he got sent to his cage he just wanted the pain to stop nothing else mattered. 

He shook as he stumbled back into the bedroom. “Leon?” You asked just woken up as well, squinting your eyes to make out your pup’s features. His breath and his whimpers together with Leon not responding got you worried. “Leon, are you okay?”

“Please,” he whined collapsing next to you on the bed. “Please what? What’s going on?” Your voice continued to grow more and more worried. You turned and switched the light on, and there he was in full light his chest heaving up and down sweat dripping down his face, his ears flat on his head. His eyes closed tight his eyebrow furrowing into a painful look. 

With one glance down everything became clear. “Oh, baby,” you muttered softly. He was going in heat. “What’s wrong with me?” Leon choked out. “Nothing sweetheart, nothing at all,” you reassured brushing strands of hair that stuck to his face away. 

“I’m going to help you okay?” Leon nodded frantically in response tears brimming his eyes as tears slowly fell down his face, landing on the pillow, your sweet pup, he must be in so much pain for so long, poor thing was suffering in silence all this time and you hardly noticed. 

He was squirming waiting for you to do something, to do anything, anything to make the pounding in his head go away. His consciousness almost faded when you scratched behind his ears making his tail wag despite the pain he was in. It thumps against the white covers beneath him with it forming a small smile on your face.

“You’ll be fine sweetheart, I’ll take care of you,” you cooed softly multitasking as you moved your hand down his sticky body going gently over all his shapes and moles, going over the small trail of hair leading to the source of his problem. His hips jerked up a few times as you did. 

His cute little cock stood high and proud, pearly beads leaping down his length it was a beautiful sight. Under normal circumstances, you would’ve admired your pet for hours like this but this was a case with urgency and there was no time to spare.

Leon’s eyes shot open when you wrapped your hand around his base, a hand flying up to your shirt to take a handful of the soft fabric. “Wh-what?” He looked up at you with big eyes then back to the scene, blinking. Before he could do or say anything else you stroked up and down again. Leon quickly deflated, eyes rolling back as his head fell back into the pillow. Whines and whimpers fell from his mouth as you continued.

You started off slow so he could catch up with you twisting your wrists a few times and pulling utteral moans of pleasure from him. His plump lips kept parted eyes half-lidded going down and up with the movement of your hand and then to your own eyes. He strictly held on to your shirt as if his life depended on it his grip only growing stronger with every stroke of your hand. 

“Hmm-s’good-please-nhgh,” incoherent mumbles escaped his lips it was adorable. His pitch went up only higher and higher to a point that you almost couldn’t recognize the vulnerable voice of your pup. 

You sped up, his hips struggling to keep up with your pace, his eyelids scrunched together, you grabbed the hand holding your shirt and wrapped it in yours intertwining your hands while the other was cramping on Leon’s puppy dick. His tail was rapidly moving the sheets his ears perked up straight into the air. 

“Ah-wait-!” You didn’t react or wait instead you did the opposite only going faster. Leon let out a gut-wrenching moan his voice cracking into a whimper multiple times as he came white sputtered all over his stomach, continuing to drip down the white sheets as more continued to flow and coat your hand with sticky white ropes.

You slowly stopped, leaving his cock flat, Leon hesitantly opened one eye before the other a sit he was scared but he only saw your sweet smile. Before he could open his other eye you had your clean hand which was previously holding his, in Leon’s hair. “Good job Leon” you comfort his ears immediately twitching as you did. 

A cheeky smile was returned his cute bright eyes staring at you with excitement. “I did good?” He sat up slightly, the bed dipping in weight as he did. “Yeah, you did amazing sweetheart.” You cupped his cheek he sighed and closed his eyes, his body turning soft in your touch. 

[zae-heeyyy]

Recalcitrance

Summary: You and Ms. Grimshaw just can't get along. Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Female!Reader Word Count: 1,763 Tags: fluff, kissing, high honor Arthur Warnings: camp violence, angry Arthur, suggestive themes

a/n: I have mixed feelings about Grimshaw. I think she's a very enigmatic character. Still, based on interactions I've seen with her, I feel this isn't too far off. These always end up super long for some reason. Idk how that keeps happening. Anyway, I hope you enjoy; thanks for reading!

recalcitrance: resistance to authority or guidance, often characterized by defiance or disobedience. It implies a refusal to comply with rules or expectations, despite attempts to persuade or control.

You and Abigail Roberts went way, way back. Working girls stuck to a code; part of that code was looking out for each other and ensuring you returned after one of your "shifts." Abigail ran away for a while, leaving you to assume she'd met a rich man and settled down.

When you met her again, she introduced you to Dutch Van Der Linde and company; you fell in with them shortly after. Since then, you constantly scrubbed blood from clothes, slept on the ground, and ate whatever game Pearson could find for the stew. Many girls you knew would never trade that life for this one, but you had a family to return to, even if they weren't the most conventional. And amidst it all, you'd found something you didn't think possible for you. 

You were drawn to Arthur Morgan instantly. The little things spoke volumes for you—how he checked on you in passing, the moments spent playing dominos together, and his overall politeness towards you. The bar was in hell, but he treated you so differently than any man ever had. Arthur's dumb cowboy act didn't fool you for a second, and you were captivated by him.

After one too many inadvertent shoulder grazes and incidental hand touches, the chemistry between you had become undeniable. Following a game of dominos he let you win, the stocky man asked you to take a walk with him. You weren't too far away from camp before you found yourself pressed against a tree by him in a heated kiss. So many thoughts swirled around your head. You were in the middle of nowhere; it was pitch black, and you were being hunted by the law, yet there against that tree was the safest you'd felt in a long time. 

Then, on another fateful night, you were alone with him at the campfire while everybody else had settled down. A sly smirk crossed his face, and he scooted closer to you, grabbing and kissing your hand. You giggled, maintaining eye contact as he kissed up your arm, gradually, a low groan escaping him. One thing led to another, and he guided you into his tent. You let him have you, and you, him. 

It was then, when you were on the brink of your climax, half-lidded eyes staring upward into his, that you finally understood what people meant by lovemaking. When it was all over, you got up to leave out of habit, but he drew you back into his arms and asked you to stay.

Since then, you've been his girl, and he made sure everybody knew, always kissing you before he left for a job, settling you into his lap at the poker table, or sneaking you away from your chores to spend time with him. You saw each other for what you were, not the labels that had been applied to you. And you loved him so much.

For the first time in a long time, your life was good. Well, mostly, except you hadn't quite mastered the life of navigating Ms. Grimshaw. Over the almost year you'd known her, she was rarely nice to you. She seemed more tame when Arthur was around, but he wasn't today.

By noon, you had gotten sick of hearing her voice, and she seemed more ornery than usual. The nagging was constant: do this, don't do that, do this faster, do this slower. You wished she'd shut the hell up and leave you alone. Just when you thought it couldn't get any worse, you saw her speed-walking towards you.

You were sitting, about to light a cigarette, when she approached, red-faced, huffing, and talking fast, "There you are," she started, putting a finger in your face. "Sitting around like always. I have had it with you!" You stood quickly out of instinct and opened your mouth to speak, but she cut you off. "You're useless around here, so why don't you go into town and start selling yourself again. At least then you'd finally be carrying your weight!" 

Her words stung like branding, making your heart race and your eyes sting. The few people left at camp had gone quiet. Mary-Beth looked on nervously while Karen was glaring at the older woman. Your heart pounded in your ears, and you spoke faster than your brain could process.

"All you're good for is being an ugly, hateful bitch." As soon as the words left your mouth, she swung on you. It was a backhanded slap that stung and broke the barrier that was holding back your tears. You recoiled, holding your stinging face.

"Know your place, girl, before you end up somewhere worse than on your back. Now get!" She pointed towards the edge of camp.

"Screw you," you said, quickly wiping away a falling tear, "I'd rather fuck every man in town before I keep letting myself be treated like this." You stepped up to her, " Want me to leave? Well, I'm goin."

And you did. You collected what little belongings you had into a bag and charged out of camp, eyes forward and your head held high. Tilly and Mary-Beth tried to stop you, but you marched down the dirt path until they couldn't see you anymore.

"Look what you gone and did you old hag," Karen spat, "Oh, just wait til Mr. Morgan gets back. Bet you won't be so high and mighty then." 

Arthur didn't ride in until sunset; he searched for you before even getting off his horse. His face fell confused by your absence, and just as he was about to inquire, Mary-Beth and Tilly approached. He knew instantly that something was wrong.

"What, what is it?" His eyes searched theirs. They looked at each other, silently debating who'd break the news to him. It was Tilly who stepped forward, putting a calming hand on Arthur's arm. She talked low and cautious, "Arthur, she—her and Ms. Grimshaw—they—" She was cut off by Karen and Ms. Grimshaw beelining towards them.

Karen's voice boomed, speech slurred. "Go ahead, tell 'em." She waved her beer-clutching hand between Arthur and Ms. Grimshaw, defiantly meeting Susan's gaze before tearing her eyes away to meet Arthur's. "That wench Grimshaw smacked her across the face and ran her out!"

Clenching his fist involuntarily, he leaned into Karen, talking low and steady. "The hell are you talking 'bout?" His chest was rising and falling quickly now.

Ms. Grimshaw stood resolute and waved him off. "This doesn't concern you, Mr. Morgan. This is my camp, and these are my girls and my rules," she finished, arms crossed, staring at Arthur.

Stepping close, he imposed his broad figure on Ms. Grimshaw, flashing a smile that was anything but inviting. He took on a tone he rarely used with the women.

"Oh, Susan, that's where me and you disagree. This may very well be your camp, and you can make up all the rules you want, but she's my girl." His face had straightened into a scowl by the time he finished.

"Well, I'll—" she began incredulously, hands still on her hips, but Arthur threw up a halting finger.

"Look, Ms. Grimshaw, I respect how you run this camp, but that girl, she's off limits. Now, I'm gonna find her and bring her back, and you can raise all the hell you want, but if you lay a finger on her again—" 

"Arthur..." Tilly cut in warningly. He squeezed his eyes shut and turned away, ending his conversation with Susan. "Where'd she go?" he asked no one and everyone at the same time, speed walking to his horse.

"She took off down the road," Mary-Beth called out, but his horse was already kicking up dirt. Riding as fast as he could, he reached the nearest town at record speed. He hitched the horse outside the train station, forcing the doors open with his shoulder. The place went quiet, everybody focusing on the sudden disturbance. Arthur ignored the looks he was getting, scanning faces for yours. Spotting you took no time, and you stood as soon as you recognized him. He rushed to you, taking your hands in his; concern riddled his face— a rare sight. Guilt washed over you as you looked up into his eyes; you opened your mouth to speak, but he started before you.

"You alright?" he asked, looking you up and down. Dirt had stained the hem of your skirt, and your eyes were tired; his frown grew as he looked you over. You wrapped your arms around him, pressing your head to his chest and nodding.

"Wasn't gonna go, just needed to get away for a while," you murmured into his chest. Rubbing your back soothingly, he exhaled with soft, relieved laughter. One arm still around you, he gently tilted your head to meet his gaze with his free one.

"Don't you go walking out on us. Least without tellin' me first."

You agreed with a quick bob of your head, and he pulled your chin in towards his, kissing you on the mouth. He withdrew and gestured to the bench you'd risen from earlier; you both sat. Arthur wrapped a big arm around you, and you buried your face into his shoulder.

"That woman hates me," you grumbled with a pout. Arthur squeezed you closer, and a faint grin formed on his lips.

"Nah, she never liked any girl I brought around. Give her more time." He scratched his chin thoughtfully. "It's all outta love, I think," he concluded. You huffed at that, disbelieving.

"She got a funny way of showing it."

"Sure," he chuckled again. He sat for another minute before gently nudging you off his shoulder. Grabbing your bag and standing, he asked, "So you gonna come back with me?"

You tried to sulk but couldn't when he was standing there waiting patiently with his hand out. You finally relented. 

"Fine, but I ain't just gonna take it next time," you declared, taking his hand. A big smile stretched across his face. 

"You ain't gotta do nothing you don't wanna. If any of those fools have a problem with it, send 'em to me." You made your way out of the train station, hand in hand. You paused, gazing at him with a quirked eyebrow.

"I can handle myself just fine, Arthur Morgan." Another chuckle built up in him as he threw your bag on the horse. He turned to kiss the top of your head before grabbing you by the waist and lifting you up on the horse.

"I know, darlin'."

[boxheadpaint]

playing Minecraft horror themed mod packs as of late to sort of taste test all the scary mods in groups. Sadly yeah most of them are pretty much derivatives of the dweller but usually louder, and the variation between designs is pretty much just in like… number of teeth. The knocker though is neat, got me pretty good at one point and does a bit more than Play Loudest Sound On Earth And Insta Kill You.

horror elements mod is a common one that is Immensely funny. from the outside it’s unnerving with the over the top gruesome models but in game they come off as like your Minecraft world turning into a neighborhood-wide haunted house competition. Structures of violent scenes pop up everywhere but don’t actually do anything and occur at such a high interval that they have no impact. It’s mostly just a fun mod for creepy decor so while I do understand why someone would include it in a mod pack it more detracts from the fear factor

“cantbreathe” is a dweller-type that’s fairly popular last I checked and though I think it’s mainly for the design. It’s cute but other than that… the noise gets you one time and is just annoying after. There was one mod I don’t know the name of yet that was doing something neat, intentionally or not, of spawning their creepy figure further away from the player and vanishing after idling for a bit. Never jumped out at me like the others but kept me on edge way better.

another mod in development currently is “in your world” if I recall correctly, and it’s doing some pretty weird things in a fun way. Rather than being hounded it makes itself home In Your World of course and you have to seek out what the deal is. Makes the scare a bit more impactful, and im wondering where they’re going with it. Interested 2 see

and of course from the fog is a similar one that’s already a classic- herobrine haunting your ass for real, never jumping out and attacking you but stalking from nearby and making changes around you. The effect doesnt last the longer you play and it ends up coming off more as your creepy roommate who shows up to ask what youre making I fucking forgot my spaghetti I forgot I was cooking spaghetti my fucking spaghetti is stuck together my spaghetti is stuck together now Jesus Christ

[porcelainseashore]

Us

Pairing: Guitarist! Leon Kennedy x Singer! Fem! Reader

Summary: You've joined Chris, Claire and Leon in Stars Rebellion as the band's new lead vocalist. If you thought chasing fame was hard, dealing with your growing feelings for a certain blonde guitarist might just take the cake.

Content & Warnings: Rock bands, friends to lovers, romance, slow burn, feelings realization, fluff and angst, swearing, recreational drug use, drinking, implied alcohol abuse, sexual harassment, suggestive themes, panic attacks, religious guilt, other Resident Evil characters (Chris, Claire, Ada, Wesker, Jill, Luis, Irons, Steve).

Author's Note: Mostly imagined RE4R Leon in this, though he's a cocky little shit in the beginning and mellows out later. As inspo, I’ve had Ethel Cain’s Michelle Pfeiffer on repeat and you’ll see why in the story. Special thanks to AliBelleRosetta for your wonderful feedback!

AO3 Link

It had only been a few weeks since you’d joined the Stars Rebellion, the band you were currently in, thanks to the recommendation of a friend of a friend. You’d somehow coasted along through college, finally free of your parents’ clutches, and made a new life for yourself along the way. It was as if you could be who you really were, without any tied past or history holding you back, and you’d never felt more alive.

You were backstage, warming up before it was time to head out for your first performance. Chris had come over to give everyone a pep talk, while Leon tapped out a beat on the body of his pacific blue Fender guitar impatiently. Claire was nodding away to her brother’s words as she frowned at herself in the cosmetic mirror, the bright LED lights illuminating her flawless skin. You sat at the back, quietly keeping to yourself as you always do, ignoring the jitters in your hands. The adrenaline was kicking in now, you were used to it. Soon, you’d be a completely different person. It was as if once you were on stage, a match was struck and you were on fire.

For now, you contented yourself with recalling the events of how you ended up with this motley crue. It had been a warm, humid Thursday afternoon, when you were done with your classes for the day, and you made your way over to one of the rental practice rooms at the back of a second-hand record store just a little off campus. Your friend Jill had told you that another friend of hers was looking for a new vocalist for their band. Seeing how you’d been singing on and off with various student bands that never really had the drive to go anywhere, she hooked you up, stating that said friend, Claire, was the most determined person she’d ever met.

So here you were, knocking on the door of the shabby, makeshift rehearsal room, covered in countless band and anarchic motto stickers.

“Come on in!” A chirpy, high-pitched voice called out.

The door creaked on its hinges as you opened it by just a crack, enough for you to poke your head through.

“Aw, she’s a shy one,” a boy with floppy, blonde hair who was sitting at the corner, hunched over his guitar remarked. His tone had no hint of maliciousness in it, just pure curiosity.

“Shut it, Kennedy.” The lady, wearing a distinct red leather jacket that matched the color of her hair tied back in a springy ponytail, rolled her eyes before greeting you with a warm smile.

“Hey…” She stuck her hand out, as you cautiously entered the room, taking in the new faces around you. “I’m Claire. You must be Jill’s friend.”

You returned back a feeble smile as you shook her hand. “Yeah, uh, and the Stars Rebellion, huh?”

“That’s right,” a beefy guy with cropped, dark brown hair behind the drum kit piped up. “Our previous vocalist left,” he paused, with his brows furrowed as if he had been reminded of something unpleasant. “You know how it’s like these days.”

You nodded understandingly as he continued. “We’ve got a sweet gig in about two weeks, so we need a replacement fast. You heard our stuff?”

“Yeah, ’course.” Jill had sent you all the recordings and info you needed to prepare yourself for today.

“Great, so-”

“Whoa, hold up a second,” Claire interjected. “Older brothers,” she sighed. “You know what they’re like.” She pointed towards the drummer. “Speaking of which, that’s my very own one over there.”

“Chris, say hello,” she ordered.

“Hi,” his monotone greeting accosted you while he waved over with a drumstick in hand. His confident and no-nonsense persona struck you as someone who was the natural leader of the group.

“Don’t worry about him, he’s really a cuddly bear underneath,” she whispered loudly enough for everyone in the room to hear. “Isn’t that right, Chris?”

He grunted in reply, still looking as stoic as ever, his square jawline unflinching, as if his sister’s words had no effect on him.

“Anyway, I guess you can already tell, I’m on bass.” She swayed her hips a little, gesturing towards the instrument that was strapped around her.

The blonde cleared his throat, seemingly irritated at being relegated to the position of the last person to be introduced.

“And that.” She pointed over to him. “Well, that’s just Leon.”

With a bold smirk, he cradled the guitar to his chest, as his fingers danced along the fretboard, unleashing a cool, intricate riff that spiraled through the air.

“Also a fucking show off,” Claire retorted.

You caught his gaze and the bright blue eyes that lured you in dangerously close, like you were Icarus flying towards the sun. He was one of those boys your father had warned you about. Handsome, charming, but the devil in disguise. You could still hear his stern words about perdition and hellfire booming in your ear. You closed your eyes before they hurt too much.

“So, erm, why don’t we start with the first track on our demo?” Claire’s voice snapped you out of your reverie.

Blinking your eyes open, you bowed your head slightly in response, before getting into position behind the mic. You can do this. A silent prayer reverberated through your head, as the opening chords played.

And just like it happened every time, that magical switch flipped, and you became someone else entirely different from yourself, yet it belonged to every part of you. As you bellowed, growled and sighed breathily into the mic like a rockstar on acid, you noticed a change in the air around you and how your future bandmates looked at you in awe. It felt like an electric current coursing through your veins. It felt like coming home.

You only needed to go through another two more songs, before they were completely floored and decided there and then that they wanted you in. The vibe between the four of you was great, there was no denying that. And you had already started throwing in some moves that were usually saved for performances with Leon, as all of you jammed together.

“That was fucking awesome!” Leon exclaimed, with Claire following suit. Even Chris was smiling widely.

“Yeah, that felt really good,” you panted, a little out of breath from the exertion.

All at once, Chris patted you on the back, cementing your entry. “Welcome to the family.” You felt your heart tug at the last word. Could you really belong here now?

“Nice to finally have another girl in the band!” Claire blurted out, as she pulled you in for a quick hug.

“Mm hm, very nice.” Leon gave you a cheeky wink, before Claire smacked the back of his head.

“Behave.”

“Oh, I will,” he snickered.

You shuddered, wondering how a silly remark like that could get you so riled up, as you chose to suppress whatever thoughts that came bubbling towards the surface. He was just one of those cocky bastards who would let fame get to their head, you discerned. Probably had a bunch of groupies lined up too. So you paid no more attention to him than needed.

A large, rough hand landed on your shoulder, giving you a reassuring squeeze. “You good?”

You shook yourself out of the daydream, coming back to reality backstage, as you eyed the imposing, broad figure in front of you. “Yeah, I’m ready. Thanks, Chris.”

“Don’t mention it.”

As you strode out onto the stage, the crowd clapped and whistled, though the reception seemed rather lukewarm. Perhaps most of them were waiting for the later bands, who also happened to be the more established ones, to play. It didn’t matter though. Your job was to get them hyped up, and you knew how to do it well.

Leon nodded at you, indicating that he’d start running through the beginning licks of the song on the setlist you’d all prepped. At the same time, he gave you an encouraging smile, which eased the tension a little. Even though you’d only got to know him a few weeks ago, you soon realized that your first impression of him wasn’t exactly the most accurate, and that despite being an insufferable prick, he had another side to him that was caring and gentle. He’d patiently helped you run through the songs with him, and even took a couple of your suggestions in improving them. He hung out with you outside of band practice, wanting to get to know you as a person, and trying to make you feel comfortable within the group. Most musicians had a stick up their ass and would’ve never given you the time of day. But he did. You’d even go as far as to call him a lovable asshole.

As the whirring of Leon’s guitar filled the space, you clenched your fist, pumping it above your head as you let out a low snarl into the mic, before belting out the lyrics, your voice raw and powerful as it soared over the riffs and the steady rhythm of the drum and bass. At a particularly heavy drop, you leaped into the air, before landing on your feet and tearing through the vocals as you rocked out with Leon at the front, playing off the energy you exchanged with each other.

It was infectious, like a feverish dream, and the crowd’s excitement grew. Among the sea of bodies pressed together, you could just about make out the look of enthusiasm on their faces, their eyes sparking with the thrill of the moment, as they jumped, moshed and cheered to the music. Time seemed to pass by so quickly, as one song flew into the other. In between, you made sure to introduce the band, thank the organizers and the audience themselves, coaxing more screams and shouts in unison as you teased them about hearing another song, what it was about, praising them on how great of a crowd they were, and with a sly wink, asking them if they could give you more. And they were more than happy to oblige.

In the final track, a devilish grin broke out across your face as you turned towards Chris and Claire, both of them laughing and shaking their heads as they knew what was coming next, before you faced the audience again. Tapping your foot in time to the beat, you murmured sultrily into the mic, “You wanna see me swallow this mic whole?”

The crowd went mental at the proposal as your velvety laughter rang out across the venue. “Come on, you can do better than that.” You pouted, licking your lips suggestively. “How much do you want it?”

Once the crowd roared, you nodded in approval and pulled the cord of the mic taut between your hands, making a grand show of it, as you tilted your head back, slowly inserting the head of the mic downwards into your mouth. As it went in, you bit at the bottom of the head, gripping it securely between your teeth, as you went hands free and a scream ripped through your throat at the climax of the song. 

Sweat and energy radiated from every pore, as your band members kicked into action. Leon jutted his hips out, launching into a fierce, breathtaking guitar solo, his fingers pressing and weaving in and out of the strings like a blinding lightning. Claire remained the grounding force in a whirlwind of melodies, keeping a consistent beat effortlessly, as her head swayed from side to side. Chris added to the wall of sound with each strike and rattle of the snare drum, quickening the pace as he worked in the bass drum pedal and clashes on the cymbals in perfect timing, his eyes laced in concentration on the controlled chaos unfolding before him.

To say you ended in a bright explosion of sound was an understatement. The four of you hugged each other tightly and bowed to a resounding chorus of cheers and hoots, stamping their feet for yet another encore. You saluted and waved at them, your final words spilling out into the mic in gratitude, “Thanks so much, we are the Stars Rebellion! Have a good night!”

As you headed off stage, Leon pounced behind you, pulling you flush against his chest in a sweaty hug as you gasped in surprise. His hair was in a mess, darkened and clinging to his forehead in damp tendrils. “Holy shit, you were a completely different person up there! Y’know, like Ian fucking Curtis or something?” 

He blabbered on nearly incoherently, name-dropping various famous lead singers. “Karen O, yeah? And Alice Glass…”

“God, just give her a break already,” Claire giggled as she shoved Leon off of you.

You stifled a laugh, your meek personality returning the more you moved away from the spotlight. “Yeah, I guess? Um, thanks.”

Leon paused, looking at you in disbelief as he shook his head. “Jeez, just like that.” He snapped his fingers. “Lady in streets, freak in the sheets,” he mumbled almost inaudibly as you choked on your saliva and coughed violently at his quip.

“Leon,” Chris warned, as Leon held his hands up in mock surrender. 

Turning towards you, Chris sighed wearily, “Sorry about that. You did good though.”

Before you had a chance to answer, an alluring, provocative voice interrupted. “You all did good out there.”

Spinning around, you came face-to-face with a stylishly dressed lady in a red, skintight catsuit and dark leather heeled boots. A sleek, black bob framed her face, highlighting her sharp features and high cheekbones. You noticed that she focused all her attention on Leon, even though she was addressing the group.

Leon’s eyes widened, her outfit clearly seemed to pique his interest, and you could feel Chris tense up behind you, as the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. At this, Claire whispered into your ear with a hint of venom, “That’s Ada, the bassist of Midnight Sun.”

Midnight Sun. That rang a bell. They were one of the more established bands in the scene, though you’d heard rumors about how haughty they could be and that they would stop at nothing to climb their way up.

“Oh, there you are.” A man with slicked-back blonde hair and dark sunglasses sauntered over coolly. If someone had told you that he was an extra from The Matrix, you would’ve believed them in a heartbeat. 

The look of disdain was prominent on his face as he glanced over at you and your bandmates. He clucked his tongue derisively. “Tell me, what is it like being the warm up crew?”

Leon was about to lash out, but Chris’ reflexes were faster, holding his shoulder in a vice-like grip. Leon huffed, as he shrugged Chris’ hand off, conceding to remaining cordial for now.

“Wesker, you’re on next!” A stagehand called out from afar.

The man tipped his head in response, before wrapping an arm around Ada’s shoulders, pulling her away from your group as he smirked. “Watch and learn, amateurs.”

“Bunch of douchebags,” Claire muttered as all of you made your way towards the dressing room to freshen up. 

From the corner of your eye, you spotted Leon peering over his shoulder another time at the lady in red.

━━━━━━━━━━━

“Seriously? That’s what was written?” You groaned, chucking Leon’s phone to the side as both of you lay sprawled out on a picnic mat across a grassy hill which connected to a park. A couple of liquor and beer bottles littered your side. Clearly, this was more of a boozy brunch than an actual brunch at all. You should’ve known better than to trust Leon to prepare something substantial. However, whenever he was around you, it seemed like he would make an effort to control his drinking habits, at least to a point where he was only tipsy but not wasted each time.

Since the last gig, the band had received many other offers to play at various venues and Chris had been eager to accept them all, in the hopes of attracting a talent scout who would spot and sign you to a major label. You’d gone on stage a few more times, with each round bringing you new fans and followers, as well as getting hounded by music journalists. Claire seemed to have a word for everything and this was no exception. She described them as rats, and in particular, a man named Luis Sera proved to be the biggest one of them all.

You remembered his irritating voice which had a slight lilt to it, as he called out for you after one of your shows in the previous month. “Señorita… hey!”

He definitely had a flair for making a spectacle out of everything that he did, and soon you’d discover that he was also a master of exaggeration. “Pleased to make your acquaintance, mi amor.” He bowed his head dramatically, as he took your hand, bringing your knuckles to meet his lips.

In the end, your band had given him half an hour of your time, only for him to grossly alter whatever answers all of you had provided during the interview when the article was published. He had pitted the Stars Rebellion against Midnight Sun, when in your opinion, both bands sounded nothing like each other and he was just doing it to stir up sensationalist shit. In addition to that, he spent most of the article writing about your looks and sex appeal, as opposed to the actual music.

To be fair, that was part of your showmanship, but it seemed like yet another case of sexism in the industry, where other male vocalists weren’t subject to the same fate as you and the handful of frontwomen, who still cut their teeth and pushed forward.

“Great,” you whined, burying your face in your hands. “Now, not only have we become an even bigger rival of Midnight Sun, he’s got people wondering if I can actually sing at all!”

Leon seemed amused by your mini outburst, but was otherwise unruffled by the comments in the article. “That’s what journalists do.” He shrugged. “Create fucking bullshit and drama. What’s new?”

He turned over to face you, taking your hand in his and squeezing it briefly before letting it go. “You’re insanely talented, you know that. Don’t listen to them.”

You smiled at his affirmation. The past months had flown by in a blur, and along with it, your bond with Leon had strengthened. You were the very definition of fast friends, having discovered many similar interests and common topics of conversation between the two of you. Although he still made the occasional off-putting remark, and was a bit of an attention-seeker, especially among the ladies, you enjoyed the time spent with him. It felt like you could be yourself and could talk to each other about anything without judgment.

Judgment. That word aroused conflicting feelings within you. On the one hand, being on stage felt freeing and you could do so many things there that would’ve been considered shameful in any other public situation. It was as though you could ignore the judgment or were immune to it. Yet, when it was time to return to the ‘normal world’, judgment haunted you wherever you went.

“Got a question though.” Leon grinned, and you knew he was coming up with another one of his pesky jokes again. “Can you sing?”

You whacked his chest as he howled with laughter. “Alright, come on, look. We’ll do it together, ok?” He whipped out his phone again, tapping on his music playlist. “I just wanna hear you sing something softer, please?”

Sighing in exasperation, you gave in to his curiosity, clearing your throat as you exposed the falsetto that you’d been hiding all this while in the city you’d run off to for college. Leon joined you on the backing vocals as you flowed through the song together, while you tried to ignore his gaze which lowered at your lips, seemingly entranced by what he was listening to. A blush crept up along your neck as the song ended.

“Didn’t realize you had that side to you,” he muttered in astonishment. “Where did you-”

“Church choir,” you uttered abruptly, hoping he wouldn’t press further.

“Oh.” That seemed to surprise him even more. “Didn’t take you as the religious kind.”

“I’m not.” You swallowed thickly, looking away.

“Your parents-”

“Don’t know, don’t care,” you hissed through gritted teeth, a little harsher than intended.

“Hey, sorry, I didn’t mean to-” He cut himself off, before sharing about his background instead. “My parents were kind of shitheads too. Well, mostly my old man.” There was another pause, as he shut his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers. “Liked the bottle a bit too much.”

“I’m sorry.” You placed your hand over his, as he brushed his thumb over your knuckles.

“Don’t be. The band’s our family now.” He shifted himself up to his elbows, kicking mud off his boots. “Anyway, we don’t have to talk about your folks if you want.”

You softened up at this, realizing that he still had your best interests at heart, though a part of you felt like divulging what you had kept to yourself for so long. “It’s embarrassing,” you began. “Singing like that, kinda reminds me of the past I wanted to leave behind.”

Twiddling your fingers anxiously, you continued. “My parents were very into that whole religious thing. You could say it was almost cult-like,” you laughed nervously. “It wasn’t what I wanted to be, so I got out of it.”

Frowning, you pursed your lips as a vague memory of leaving your hometown amid a heated argument and tears came to mind. “Haven’t spoken to them in years. Probably disowned by them by now.”

“Their loss,” he replied sharply, staring you dead in the eye.

It wasn’t something you had expected to slip out of Leon’s mouth, but he had articulated it so transparently. You raised an eyebrow at him in confusion.

“You could’ve been a great televangelist,” he joked, and you chuckled along with him, finding humor in the otherwise unpleasant subject.

“It’s too bad, isn’t it?” You took a swig of the vodka bottle he offered you, wincing as the smooth liquid burned its way down your throat. “You know, when I’m up there performing, it feels like I can be whoever I want to be.”

“You can be whoever you want with me,” he spoke softly. You tried to search for any disingenuity in his eyes, but found none. “I like you all the same.”

“I like you too,” you professed, only to contort your face in horror a split second later, as you realized the implications of what you had just said. “Uh, I mean, not like that,” you sputtered helplessly. “You know, like-”

He rolled his eyes and snickered. “C’mere.” Tugging at your hand, he pulled you in close, giving you a solid hug. 

Gingerly, you wrapped your arms around his neck, inhaling deeply and relaxing in his embrace. Both of you carried a mild scent of alcohol, but you didn’t care. You were just happy to find a like-minded soul who saw you for who you were, as you did with him.

A random thought popped up in your head that you wanted to run by him that instant. It gnawed at your chest, waiting to escape. “Leon?”

“Mm?” You could feel him nuzzling your neck and wondered if he had gone past being tipsy.

“What do you think about writing a softer song? Like something more emotive,” you explained.

He still didn’t let you go. “I think that sounds great,” he murmured into your ear. “We’ll write it together.”

“Just you and me, us against the world,” he added wistfully.

You wondered what had gotten into him, but the idea of working on this creative project together felt right to you. Like a link in the thread of fate that was meant to happen.

“Us against the world,” you repeated, sealing your fate, as you felt his smile against your skin.

━━━━━━━━━━━

On a hot, sunny afternoon, you were grabbing milkshakes with Claire, before heading over to the skatepark, where another friend of hers, Steve, was trying out a couple of new tricks. He had a slender build and spiky red hair, with a punk aesthetic. In other words, the perfect skater boy. You were pretty sure he had a crush on Claire, but she seemed to be either oblivious or ignored it outright. Whenever he landed a cool trick, he’d look over at Claire for approval, only for her to give him a friendly thumbs up. 

While you sat by the benches, Claire turned towards you, wiggling her eyebrows as she commented, “You and Leon have been hanging out a lot together lately.”

“Uh huh.” You tried to appear nonchalant about it, as you sipped on your milkshake guardedly.

Truth be told, the increasing amount of time spent with Leon was causing certain inconvenient feelings to grow within you. You lied to yourself, claiming you saw him as nothing more than a friend. Falling for a lovable asshole was out of the question, especially one who might break your heart. Yet, the day where both of you drank in the park, accepting each other in ways you never thought possible, constantly replayed in your mind. Then there was the song you were working on together, the late-night calls, and the pick-me-ups for days when either of you needed support. He would drop everything to help you, and you were there when he sought comfort.

Each time you saw him flirting with one of the female fans or exchanging coy looks with Ada, you died a little inside. He was just a horny 23-year-old guy chasing after anyone with legs - at least, that's what you tried to convince yourself. So, you stayed silent about the whole affair, holding back how you really felt about him, in order to preserve your friendship.

“Anything going on between you two?” Claire asked casually.

What else could you expect from a final-year Communications major? Of course, she would have picked up on how weird you’ve been acting lately.

Still, you continued fighting a losing battle. “We’re just friends,” you asserted, poking absentmindedly at the leftover froth and cream in your drink with the straw.

She wasn’t having it though. “The question is, do you want it to stay that way?” Checkmate. You could almost see her gloating at you as you froze.

You shook your head, sighing defeatedly. “It doesn’t matter, he’s into other girls anyway.”

“Have you told him?” Crap, she got you there again.

You just gave her a noncommittal shrug.

“Look, I’m gonna level with you.” She set her drink down with an air of determination, as if she meant business. “In all my sad years of knowing that loser, he’s never behaved this way with a girl like you. Maybe he just needs a little push to see that.” Folding her arms, she cocked her head to the side. “You should tell him.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” You sucked up the rest of your drink until there was nothing more than the bubbly, gurgling sound of air and drops of fluid. With a mischievous twist of your mouth, you added, “By the way, you should probably tell Steve you’re not interested.”

━━━━━━━━━━━

When you had finally plucked up the courage to try and tell Leon about your true feelings, things didn’t go exactly as planned. For starters, he had been rather distracted about the upcoming music festival that your band would be participating in and specifically, a promo event that was tied to it. It was all he wanted to talk about, so you couldn’t get a word in.

“It’ll be the perfect opportunity to get noticed,” he pleaded. “You have to go!”

“I’m not- I don’t do very well in these types of social situations,” you argued. “You know that.”

“Excuses,” he huffed dismissively. “It’s gonna be fun, come on.”

“Chris and Claire will be there with you,” you countered again.

Placing his hands on your shoulders, he declared, “No, I want you.”

Although you knew he didn’t mean it any other way, your cheeks flushed as you turned your head away, heart throbbing at the innocuous statement he had just uttered.

“I’ll be there beside you, the whole time,” he promised. “Please, just come along?”

Biting your lip, you weighed your options, even though your emotions had already gotten the better of you, and you had made your decision regardless of what he might say. “You swear?”

“Cross my heart.”

Unfortunately, you wish you had never agreed to him in the first place, because 24 hours later, you were singing an entirely different tune.

Leon had picked you up and headed over to the event with you as arranged. It was held at a swanky members-only club with a lot of pomp, ass-kissing and too much champagne. You felt completely out of place there, but tagged along like a lost puppy behind Leon, who was reveling in the publicity and getting to know who’s who. A number of the other festival bands were there, but you weren’t particularly close to them beyond a courteous ‘Hello’. You fiddled with the cocktail that Leon had got you, praying that the Redfield siblings would show up sometime soon.

At some point, Leon caught your attention, every so often looking over his shoulder for something, or someone. “I, uh, I need to head to the restroom.”

You nodded in puzzlement, wondering why he seemed so shifty all of a sudden.

“Cool, um, I’ll make it quick.” He gave you a sheepish smile and a wink before heading off hurriedly.

He looked even apologetic? You shrugged off that thought, nursing the lone drink in your hands as you thumbed the fabric of your silvery playsuit. After a while, you checked the time on your phone. A good ten minutes had passed, but he hadn’t returned. Weird, did something happen to him?

As you continued waiting, it started to dawn on you how oppressive and suffocating the atmosphere was. It reminded you of the times when you were surrounded by the rest of the community you’d grown up with in church, scrutinizing your every move. Cold sweat formed on your palms as your breathing grew rapid and shallow. A sense of dread developed within you as your vision narrowed.

Oh god, oh god, not here, no… You latched onto the wall for support, trying to apply the tactics you usually used to calm yourself down.

“Hey there!” Claire’s upbeat voice pierced through the downward spiral you had nearly been consumed by. “Where’s Leon?”

“Um, he went to the rest-”

“What the fuck.” Claire’s jaw dropped wide open and when you followed her line of sight, you understood why.

From afar, you spotted Leon and Ada in tow, sneakily heading out of the restrooms. Bold red lipstick was smudged across Leon’s face as he wiped away at it furiously, and his pants remained unzipped, like an afterthought. Ada combed through her ruffled hair with her fingers, adjusting the bottom of her figure-hugging dress. There were no guesses as to what had occurred there. Your mouth ran dry.

“That fucking-” Claire growled. “Ugh, I’m gonna wring his neck!”

“Claire, it’s okay.” You tried to placate her, but your voice was quivering.

She turned towards you, eyeing you sympathetically as she rubbed your back. “I’m sorry,” she offered. “Well, Chris is getting some drinks. Let’s go join him?”

You accepted, making your way towards the refreshments table, still mulling over what you had just seen. As you picked up a glass of sparkling wine, Claire relayed the entire scenario over to Chris, who just shook his head disapprovingly.

A few moments later, Leon had stumbled upon your group. “Where’ve you been? I was looking all over for you!” He barked, visibly frustrated at your disappearance.

Claire scoffed, and without another word, bumped against his shoulder as she brushed past him. Chris followed suit, without the bumping, though he made a face at Leon as he chugged down his beer. They expected you to come along, but you hung back, giving Leon one more chance to redeem himself.

“What’s up with those two?” he muttered in annoyance.

You held his gaze impassively. “What took you so long?”

“Is this a trick question or what?” He couldn’t look you in the eyes as he tried to evade your quizzing.

But you didn’t let up, not budging from your place until you had an answer.

He threw his hands up in exasperation. “There was a queue, okay?”

A rush of disappointment and heartache surged through you. The least he could’ve done was to be honest with you, but he hadn’t even managed that. He was lying directly to your face, which currently felt as if it had been given a tight slap in humiliation. With whatever dignity you had left, you excused yourself from the table, heading over to the Redfield siblings, as Leon looked on in incredulity and disbelief.

You spent the rest of the evening with Chris and Claire, who were mostly interested in the free food and drink, and knew a couple of the chiller, more down-to-earth musicians on a personal level. In an unexpected turnaround of events, you were actually having fun chatting with people who appeared to be on the same wavelength as you and making wisecracks about corporate functions like these.

In fact, it served as a fairly effective distraction from the boy you were pretending didn’t exist. He lurked around like a shadow, leaning against the walls in the corridors and the sides of the rooms. You saw him everywhere, hovering just within reach. Scowling moodily at you and your newfound friends, he tossed back a never ending supply of alcoholic drinks. You suspected he was on the verge of getting sloshed by now, and although a part of you was concerned about his well-being, you didn’t want to play the role of a babysitter, at least not for tonight.

Towards the end of the night, Chris and Claire had decided to take their leave and you would too, after getting some fresh air by the pool. However, this proved to be a mistake, as the minute you were left alone, you heard heavy footsteps shuffling up next to you. You felt a pit in your stomach, knowing well who it was before even facing the culprit.

“What did I do wrong?” Leon was slurring his words, and his eyes were glassy and bloodshot. The stench of alcohol on him was overwhelming.

Wrinkling your nose, you backed away, stating plainly, “You’re drunk, just take a cab home.”

“Don’t-” He grabbed your arm, attempting to steady himself. “Don’t walk away from me.”

“Leon,” you warned.

“What happened to us against the world, huh?” he retorted.

“Did you think about that when you ditched me to fuck around?” The accusation tumbled out of your mouth before you had a chance to rein it in.

His grip on you loosened, as guilt flashed across his eyes. “That- I, it wasn’t-”

“You’ve always been a bit of an asshole,” you interjected. “But a loveable one, who was also sweet and kind.” Tears started to collect at the corners of your eyes. “Now, you’re just completely horrible,” you spat, with a look of disgust plastered across your face.

Leon’s face contorted in anguish as he tightened his hold on your arm again. “Don’t say that.”

“I don’t like you like this,” you admitted, trying to break free from his grasp, as tears started to roll down your cheeks.

He tried to reach out with his other hand and caress your face, but you pushed it away. “Let go,” you demanded.

However, it seemed as if he couldn’t comprehend why you wanted to be as far away from him as possible. “I’m sorry,” he blurted out. “Can’t we just sort this-”

Then, something in you snapped. All the times when you had finally had enough and set your boundaries in the past, burning bridges along the way, came to a head. “No!” you yelled, shoving him off you, as he fell backwards and landed into the pool with a loud splash.

Some of the spectators laughed and jeered, as he floundered around mostly in shock, while you stormed off the site.

━━━━━━━━━━━

The next band practice session was awkward to say the least. You were running a few minutes late and when you’d reached, you could hear the shouting from outside the door to the studio.

“... sleeping with the enemy!”

“How is Ada an enemy?”

“You’re always messing things up for us!”

“Okay, break it up you two.”

Expelling a hefty sigh, you swung the door open, and the room fell so silent you could hear a pin drop. You could feel their gaze on you as you placed your bag in the corner before getting to your usual position behind the mic, making sure to avoid any eye contact with Leon. The festival was coming up in the next month, and on top of that, you still had a smaller gig to play in between then. The last thing you wanted was for personal issues to get in the way of professionalism, so you buried your emotions deep within the abyss.

“Hey, um, you, uh-” Leon croaked out, trying to get your attention, but you ignored him, turning instead towards Claire.

“Sorry I’m late, shall we get started?”

Despite regarding you with a look of concern, she obliged and Chris counted off before all of you jammed to the opening song.

It continued on like this, where you gave Leon the cold shoulder. You had stopped hanging out with him and only communicated when necessary. He didn’t realize how much he would miss your company until it was gone. Things felt duller and emptier without you. Whenever he wanted to share his joys, sorrows and just the mundane things that were happening in his life, he’d try to call you, only for it to go unanswered. He left you countless voice messages, each more desperate than the last one, ranging from a mixture of hurt, blame and grief. It had only been a little over two weeks, but he was starved and alone, without the person he could truly count on. The song you had been working on together remained unfinished.

During the smaller gig you were playing at, you rocked out with Chris and Claire near the back, instead of vibing with Leon at the front. Maybe you were being petty with the way you were treating Leon, but he hadn’t given you a proper apology since the incident. The chemistry and connection between the two of you on stage was lost. Nonetheless, you gave the performance your all, and the fans went wild, so much so that when you crowd surfed, you ended up with shredded leggings and a bloody mouth. A random fan tried to grope you, but security intervened and you were dragged back up on stage by Leon, whose eyes were clouded with worry and apprehension. However, the adrenaline numbed the pain and you finished the gig on a high note, leaving the crowd buzzing with exhilaration and the sound of thunderous applause. It was a confidence booster and a great way to warm up for the festival gig.

Backstage, Claire helped you with cleaning the cut on your lip, as you reassured her that you were fine and such injuries were inevitable when you threw yourself headfirst into the crowd. She made you promise not to pull that stunt again, at least for the foreseeable future, before leaving you to finish up.

Just as you were heading out to regroup, an older, bearded man with neatly styled, graying hair and donning a snazzy waistcoat approached you.

“Brian Irons.” 

He held out a sleek, matte finish card with a crisp white background, his name in bold, black font in the center. Below, in smaller, elegant sans-serif type, were the record label he managed and his contact details. A thin, silver border surrounded the edges of the card adding a touch of sophistication. You took it from him, rapt by the design.

“Shall we speak somewhere in private?” he offered, beckoning towards one of the empty dressing rooms towards the end of the hallway.

In your elation and unwillingness to turn down such a timely opportunity, you jumped the gun, accepting his request immediately without waiting for your bandmates. Instead, you messaged them the details and informed them you would join them soon after.

“Amazing show,” he complimented. “You really are quite stunning.”

“Thanks, um, Mr. Irons.” You shifted your weight between both feet nervously, unsure of how to respond. Something in the way he looked at you made you seem like a prey caught in a bear’s trap and his words felt loaded.

“For you, it’s Brian, honey.” His lecherous tone sent shivers down your spine.

“Brian,” you echoed, slowly backing away to put some distance between you and the man.

“So, you kids wanna get signed, huh? Stars Rebellion, wasn’t it?” He advanced towards you with deliberate, measured steps, as if he were playing with his food at the dinner table.

“Y-yeah,” you stammered, regretting the decision you had made earlier and the direction this conversation seemed to be steering in.

“Well, I can certainly help with that…” 

Your back was flat against the wall now, as he sidled up to you, eliminating any space between you as he caged you in with his body. His breath felt hot and heavy against your cheek, and reeked of coffee and cigarettes. As his hand rode up your thigh, you closed your eyes, holding your breath as a nauseating wave crashed over you and you tried not to puke.

“The fuck’s going on here?” A sharp, biting voice sliced through the air like a knife.

Brian pulled away and you saw Leon by the doorway of the dressing room seething with fury and a dangerous glint in his eye.

“Hey, easy there, kid. Just getting acquainted, that’s all.” Brian tried to laugh it off as a joke, but Leon wasn’t having any of it.

“Get away from her,” he ordered, his steely demeanor unrelenting. “Now.”

Brian backed off, but came up to Leon threateningly. “Talking back to me like that?” he sneered. “I’ll make sure you’re ruined, punk.”

Leon took a step closer, issuing an unspoken challenge. “Yeah? Go ahead, sue me.”

At this, Brian cocked his fist back before taking a swing at Leon. Leon ducked to avoid the blow, shoving him aside as he unleashed a quick jab which connected with Brian’s nose. Brian fell to the ground, whimpering in pain while covering his face with both hands. Blood trickled down, staining his shirt as he cowered before Leon.

“Touch her again and I swear to god I’ll kill you,” Leon hollered. “You hear me?”

Brian nodded furiously as Leon walked briskly across the room, wrapping his arm around your shoulder before leading you out with him. Once you were at a safe distance, he cupped your face in his palms, examining you for any further signs of injuries.

“You okay? Did he hurt you?”

You didn’t respond, instead you clung to him in a tight embrace as your body trembled uncontrollably. He held you against his chest, resting his chin on your head as he stroked your hair soothingly. Both of you stayed there for a while, locked in each other's arms, until he suggested, “Let’s get you home.”

━━━━━━━━━━━

When Leon had informed Chris and Claire about the events that had transpired, they vowed to keep a closer watch on you and each other. There was now an agreement that if the whole band could not be present at a meeting, then at least two people at the minimum should be there.

Your band had upped the intensity of the practice sessions, as the date of the festival loomed nearer. However, when Jill spontaneously announced that she was organizing a house party at her place, all of you jumped at the invitation, seeing it as a way to let off some steam.

At the moment, you and Leon were in this weird, intermediary state of being not quite friends, yet not quite on opposing ends either. It seemed as if it was eating away at him inside, since the minute he saw you at Jill’s place, he weaved through the throng of familiar faces and approached you, asking if you were ready to talk about the elephant in the room. It wasn’t possible to keep ignoring him forever and you were tired of all the arguments and drama that had occurred lately. So, you decided to let him into your life again, or maybe just a foot in the door for now.

In one of the quieter rooms of the house, you sat beside Leon as he initiated an apology for the first time for his prior actions. “I know it’s not enough, but I’m sorry, I really am.” He swallowed a lump in his throat. “I was a complete dick-”

“Yeah, you were,” you replied testily. “I panicked, when you, um, took your time.”

“What? Shit.” He looked down at his hands in shame, balling them into fists. “I’m so sorry. I really didn’t want that to happen to you.” 

Clenching his jaw, you saw him drown in a sense of self-loathing. “God, I keep fucking things up. Please-” He took your hands in his, squeezing them as if he were proposing. “I’ll make it up to you, just give me another chance to prove it.”

“I missed you,” he whispered. “A lot.” It was as if a dam had broken, and he couldn't stop himself from pouring out all his admissions. “You weren’t talking to me, you weren’t returning my calls…”

“Whenever something stupid came up, all I could think about was how much I wanted to tell you about it.” His eyes glazed over, as if he were recalling a distant memory. “Guess I kinda took you for granted.”

Pressing your lips into a thin line, you made yet another decision against your better judgment. Although you had no guarantee that he would not repeat the same mistake, you placed your trust in him again, hoping that this time he would treat you as you deserved. 

“Okay.” You nodded, offering a weak smile. “We’ll try again.”

You yelped as he suddenly gathered you into a snug embrace, grinning widely from ear to ear. “I got you back,” he murmured into your ear.

“Don’t make me regret it,” you teased half-jokingly.

“Guys, get your free shit! Oh-” 

You and Leon quickly disentangled yourselves from each other as you saw Jill staring with her mouth hanging open. “Did I interrupt something?”

“No!” Both of you exclaimed in unison.

Jill rolled her eyes, her face etched with doubt, though she didn’t probe further. “Anyway, downstairs! First come, first served.” She jerked her thumb in the direction behind her, before trudging off to the next room.

“You wanna?” Leon gave you a knowing smile.

“Hell, sure, why not?” You shrugged, once again erupting in laughter with the boy you wanted to cuddle with and strangle at the same time.

So, that was how both of you ended up lying next to each other, strung out on a mattress facing the window. You knew the drill. Jill’s housemates were creative types whose generosity knew no bounds. House parties with them involved usually meant a certain supply of free drugs, which people could choose to engage in recreationally. You figured you were being very rock’n’roll by doing it, but sometimes you enjoyed how open they made you feel, like you could loosen up and forget about the things bothering you.

As usual, you and Leon had taken the same pills as before, both of you agreeing to take care of each other throughout the duration of the high. He held your hand, interlacing his fingers with yours, as you giggled over a topic you had been discussing.

“Ready to watch the curtain breathing contest?” he chuckled.

“There.” You pointed in front of you, indicating that the shades were now moving on their own, like ripples in the tide.

“Atta girl.”

It felt nice like this, laying beside him. You could talk to him about anything in the world and he’d listen intently to you. That’s when you thought it was a good idea to make your confession. 

“I’ve liked you for a while now,” you gulped, your heart constricting though the urge to reveal your secret was stronger. “As in, more than a friend.”

He angled his head towards you, gazing at your expression with an affectionate smile. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

“Leon Scott Kennedy, asking me why-?” you snorted, clamping your free hand over your mouth as you struggled to hold in your cackles. As if he wasn’t aware he had a reputation for sleeping around with no strings attached. “I didn’t want to be just another notch on your bedpost.”

He tutted and sighed. “You wouldn’t have been. It’s different… with you.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re one of the few people who’d tell me exactly as it is, you care to listen,” he explained. “It just feels right, being with you, and… I trust you.”

You were reluctant to take what he had said at face value, after all both of you were tripping. As if sensing your hesitance, he professed, “I like you too, a lot.”

Still, a part of you denied it. “You’re just saying that.”

He groaned in vexation. “Am not.”

“Are too.”

Narrowing his eyes at you, he huffed in defeat, “Look, ask me again tomorrow when we’re sober, okay? Pretty sure I’ll say the exact same thing.”

“Fine,” you conceded. “You better not try anything right now though, ’cause I bite.” Baring your teeth, you snarled at him playfully.

“Uh huh.” He burst out laughing. “You’re kinda high off your face, aren’t you?”

“Just a little.” You winked.

“Alright, let’s try to get some sleep,” he grunted, shifting to his side as he extended his arms towards you like an invitation. “No funny business,” he promised.

You relented, nestling yourself into his arms with your back against his chest. He dipped his nose into your hair, breathing in the peace of the moment. Closing your eyes, you drifted off to sleep, your bodies spooned together in perfect symmetry.

━━━━━━━━━━━

The first rays of the morning light filtered in through the curtains, as you awoke to the collective chirps of the dawn chorus. You squinted, pressing a palm over your eyes to shield yourself from the sun, as you stretched yourself out against Leon’s sleeping body and yawned groggily. He stirred a bit from your movement, but easily fell back into slumber, snoring deeply. You remembered everything you had disclosed to him the night before and it scared you. What if he didn’t feel the same way when he woke up? What if it had all been a mistake? How would you be able to look him in the eye now? You felt anxiety rising in your chest.

Stealthily, you lifted his arm off you, creeping out of the bed and making your escape before you had to face the consequences of your actions. Grabbing your stuff, you snuck out of the room, tiptoeing so no one noticed you exiting the front door of the house.

It was about an hour later when Leon woke up, confused to find you missing from the mattress with him. Though in your rush, you had accidentally left behind your notebook, which you carried around with you everywhere to jot down inspiration for song lyrics. Picking up the chestnut brown, leatherbound journal, curiosity got the better of him as he flipped it open to the page you had bookmarked.

As he skimmed across the words you had scribbled down in your off-beat, cursive handwriting, he gradually realized that they were the draft lyrics to the song you had been previously working on together with him, before the temporary break in your friendship. He re-read the text again to catch the meaning between the lines. It was then that it struck him, you had essentially composed a love letter from within, expressing the depth of your feelings and yearning for him. It made his heart ache that you had been keeping this from him the whole time and he had been blind to it all.

Tapping your name on his mobile screen, he called you right away, but it went straight to voicemail. Fuck. What were you afraid of? He thought he had been clear in how he felt about you last night, but it seemed like you had gone into hiding again. 

Showing up at your place directly after this may cause you to retreat even further, but he was determined to win you over somehow. A plan began to hatch in his mind, as he drove home with your book in the passenger seat. Despite his exhaustion from the party, he set out to work on the music for the lyrics you had written, spending the rest of the day and even pulling an all-nighter to finish it.

After about a dozen energy drinks and cups of coffee, he marched up unannounced to the door of your dormitory, where you shared a room with another final-year student from your class, rapping on it several times for good measure. Your roommate opened the door, but her expression gave everything away before she had the chance to concoct any sort of tall tale. She could never really keep a poker face.

Placing his arm against the door to prevent it from closing on him, he called out your name. You appeared in his view then timidly, mumbling to your roommate that you would handle it. She packed up a few things and left, giving you and Leon some privacy.

“Your book.” He passed it over to you, before setting his guitar case down by your bed. “Open it.”

You glanced briefly at him in mild bewilderment, but did as he asked. It flopped open to a page with a deep crease in the center, naturally showing how frequently that section had been revisited. You gasped when you saw a bunch of chord notes written below the lyrics you had penned down from earlier. Your complexion turned a light shade of scarlet upon realizing that Leon had discovered your innermost thoughts, but there was no awkwardness in his behavior towards you, he was calm and collected.

Unzipping the case, he took out his acoustic guitar and perched himself on the edge of your bed. Resting the instrument on his thigh, he grasped its neck, tilting it slightly as he strummed a couple of opening chords.

“I pieced together the melody for this. Maybe you can join in when you’re comfortable,” he suggested.

It seemed he had memorized the entire song by heart, as he didn’t need your notebook for guidance. His mellow, honeyed voice cascaded through the room as he serenaded you with the song both of you had crafted, albeit separately. Now, you were coming together to bring it to life.

Seating yourself next to him, you harmonized with his vocals, pouring the entirety of your emotions and every moment of longing you had built up within you into the music, until the final note trailed off. Throughout it all, Leon had observed you closely, captivated by the raw, unfiltered quality of your voice and the vulnerability you displayed in your delivery of the lyrics.

His gaze lowered from your eyes to your mouth, as he leaned in, brushing his lips gently against yours, kissing you tenderly. Bringing his hand to your cheek, he caressed it, coaxing soft sighs and moans which he returned as you reciprocated the kiss. Panting as he came up for air, he traced your bottom lip with his thumb, feeling every dip and groove, as if mesmerized by its outline and shape. He didn’t need to utter a single word for you to understand that his feelings for you mirrored those you had confessed in the song.

Closing the distance, he pressed into your lips again, this time more fervently, as the kisses grew in intensity. His nose nudged against yours and you felt his warm breath tickling your skin, as he grasped the back of your neck, taking you deeper, breathing every essence of you in. Clutching his shoulders, you parted your lips slightly as he licked along the entrance, allowing his tongue to meet yours, twirling around it as saliva coated your lips, forming a glistening string between the two of you when you pulled away.

Grazing his knuckles delicately across your cheek, he asked, “Do you believe me now?”

You smiled, claiming his lips with your own in response.

━━━━━━━━━━━

The next time you performed the song live was at the festival, where thousands had gathered to watch the impressive lineup of bands. Chris and Claire had fallen in love with it when you and Leon had showed it to them, and were keen to expand the band’s range into something that delved into the territory of rock ballads.

All four of you wondered how it would be received by the audience, as it was rather different from the punk rock style your band was known for. Even so, you were psyched to finally showcase it to the public.

It was the song you ended with on your setlist, and the one which created such a poignant, special atmosphere, that it became a memory you would treasure forever. The hall fell into hushed anticipation as Leon plucked his guitar strings under the soft glow of the stage lights. Each note resonated deeply, minimalistic and stripped back, which added to the earnesty of the music.

Your voice opened the duet, intimate and haunting, as the melody unfolded like a story being told, rich with longing and a melancholic beauty that ached. The audience stood there entranced, as a soulful rhythm built up with the entry of the bass guitar and drums, adding another layer to the sound.

Leon moved towards you, sharing your mic as he sang his part, cementing a bond between you. Locking eyes with you, he pressed his forehead against yours, mingling sweat and tears as you both continued singing into the same mic, your heartfelt lyrics heavy with emotion. Some of the older people in the crowd sparked their lighters, while the younger ones whipped out their mobile phones, swaying them in time to the music, until everything was awash in a sea of flickering lights.

Your lips and Leon’s were barely touching as the last notes lingered in the air. His faint breath fanned across your mouth, as he swept his fingertips along your jawline, resting them under your chin. The space was thick with palpable tension, and your stomach fluttered just as it had the first time he had kissed you. Like a magnetic pull which he could not resist, he placed his lips over yours, kissing you again and again. It was as if the world had paused, just for the two of you. 

Singing this way no longer reminded you of punishment and shame, but rather of the connection you and Leon had. Wrapping his arm around your waist, he led you off-stage, past the phenomenal reaction of the crowd and the fist bumps shared between Chris and Claire.

Ada came around not only to congratulate him, but also to test the waters and seize the opportunity to flirt. Despite that, he held onto you tightly, maintaining a suitable distance from the woman he had previously been infatuated with, yet feeling nothing deeper compared to what he felt for you. It took him more than half a year, an explosive fallout and a few weeks of your absence to realize that. She smirked and shook her head, walking away as Wesker continued to ignore you.

Some things never change, yet some things had.

“How about some time alone?” he proposed. “Just us.”

Us. It was always meant to be about us.

You nuzzled your nose gently with his. “Yeah, just us.”