#Fun Fact: I always thought this would be a fun song to do a Life Series animatic for :) But this works too!

[lullabyalikpoptarot]

Mark Lee Perspective Reading

Disclaimer: No facts, all alleged, just my interpretation.

Someone requested this one a while ago, sorry for not responding, but out of three members they requested he stood out to me, so I will get to him this weekend. The song he gave me was Rihanna's Diamond. This could indicate him being special in a sense, or liking to shine and be in the spotlight, or liking a lot of attention, which makes sense as he is a Leo. I don't know much else about him. I am familiar with him, as I was a fan of NCT years ago, but haven't kept up with them, so time to see what he gives me energetically.

Fuck man, he is coming in strong, so I sensed some weird energy from him when I did his LBGQIA+ reading, something was fishy there and yup, getting that vibe here. It seems he went down the path of many of these idols and being prostituted as well allegedly. The one card always gives me the vibes of being filmed or pictures, so there could be that. I feel these people don't care how they hurt these idols or affect them either. This one card comes to 9 and I think of the 9 of swords, a stressful event, maybe he has nightmares about, 9 of wands, boundaries being crossed, 9 of cups, wishes coming true out of that and 9 of pentacles, this gives him financial freedom and access to it. I mean I guess, because SM doesn't pay that well, but okay. This may be why, besides his talent and drive, that he has more opportunities than others.

Now, with this down casted pride, this shows shame, guilt for what has happened or what he did. Maybe he did by his own volition, or just thought that is what is supposed to happen, it is how it is always done. I feel like they may do this to shame them as well or have a hold on them, and that may be a case for him. Why am I getting, he may get reminders of the event to trigger him or set him off, or just embarrass him somehow.

He did give me two other cards, wasn't sure I would add them, but decided to and ugh, this confirms more of what I mentioned. He gave me the triumph of lies and as I mentioned this card gives me he got skeletons and that his rise to fame came with a price and it isn't how they portray. It gives me something more sinister going on behind the scenes. He also gave me parasite, which is people leech of him, take from him. He feels he gets used and abused, how extreme that is I don't know.

He does seem to try to stand strong towards these people. He still remains strong and confident, so even if they do things to knock down his confidence. He stands up stronger after that. He's kind of giving me. I won't let ya'll bully me, so he doesn't seem to distraught about things overall. He enjoys to showcase his skills and work and does what he can to make things happen. He is fueled by his creative energy and will do what it takes to create the things he wants to, with his projects and in his life. At the end of the day, they won't stop him from doing what he loves and that is creating music. And he is one that will put in the work to get it done.

He gives me as not the type to say things or communicate things clearly, but in, I heard rhyme scheme, but the messaging won't be as clear, like a double entendre, so he will be covert about how he states things. It is like hidden messages is how he will communicate his messaging and what he wants to share. That was hard for me to explain, but interesting tidbit I got there.

He may have a sort of obsession with work and any type of passion he has. Whatever he is highly into. He devotes a lot of his time and energy into it. I feel he may do that with his craft and work. He is highly ambitious and does what he can to make his goals come to fruition. He does not like wasting time, sitting idle. He wants to get to work and get things done. He may not even have much time to play and have fun.

I don't see him wanting to tap into his emotions all that much or go to deep into that. I see him not that very connected to that energy. He can be a bit cold and serious, not that warm and gentle of a person. He is about getting things done. He isn't about sitting and ruminating over things. Even if he dealt with some trauma. He doesn't seem like the type that will get distraught about it. He would understand it is the name of the game, I hear, yes, he would feel shame, but it is what it is, he moves on and gets to work.

He does have an energy of devotion and loyalty. I could say to his work and craft, but this could extent to people. He has this energy of needing to be of service to others and using his skills to help provide that service. I see him not being the type to break commitments or any promises he made. He is loyal and stand by his commitments. Although very passionate and determined. He seems to know when to stop and he doesn't cross certain boundaries. I can also see this as him not letting others in and maybe not being too vulnerable around others. He keeps a boundary and a distance there. It is like there is a certain line you don't cross with him.

Okay, he gave me a bunch for this last Tarot spread. Dude is all about the Benjamin's and advancing his career. He gave me 3 cards of pentacles. He is all about financial investments and finding ways to make money. He may want to be rich af He seems to have lots of ideas as to how to do that and take different avenues to get there. He will take different routes to get the money he wants, but I also see him as someone who likes to keep busy and keep the money flowing.

With the world and the star, he wants worldwide recognition, to be a star, to shine bright like a diamond lol He wants to travel to different places, experience new cultures, venture into new things. He seems to want all eyes on him and all the attention he can get. This is so Leo energy here. He has passion, determination, a bit of an ego, has lots of creative ideas and has the energy to make his dreams come true.

So, even if he been through some things. He has thick skin and can manage anything that comes his way. I just keep hearing the lyrics, I get knocked down, but I get up again. You can't keep this man down. He is tough as nails. And mostly doesn't give af. As long as he can create and succeed, keep trying him, he doesn't care lol I kind of like this energy. I don't see him caring to much about relationships or connections with others, which is funny. Hopefully he cares a bit, because connection is important, but he got money on his mind and using his craft to make it happen. I do see him devoting time to his craft, it isn't just the money, but that helps.

[fountainpenguin]

"I'll treat you nice; I'll be so kind! Just bring me all the food you find~ And I'll run this dump, 'cuz I'm the smartest here..." (x)

---

New Dog's Life chapter today! ~ 3rd Life series fan-season

Chapter 39 - “Wednesday: Squall Hospital”

❤️ Read on AO3

💛 Start from Chapter 1

💚 More Pixels Imperfect fics

Dog's Life is 1 year old today!

Mumbo wakes up in the hospital. Etho pays a visit to ask after a commission… wandering trader style. Also, the phantom hybrids strip down to flaunt their stuff. Get your sparring game on!

Impulse, who modded out of phantom state long ago, watches from the sidelines.

Dog's Life anniversary chapters, Part 1!

(First 1,000 words under the cut)

Brief #trafficshipping (Mumbo reflecting on his divorce with Martyn, which happened 100 years ago but Martyn only found out yesterday)

---

Mumbo

Location: Hospital, Southwest New Star, Bottom Floor

🖤  🌕  🖤

He couldn't tell you when he became aware of voices. On some level, they were there the whole time, even with memories playing across his eyes. Some he'd rather forget, full of escorts with diamonds for teeth waiting while his fumbling hands plugged his player file in a foreign server core, his heartbeats tangled, chilly breath on the back of his neck warning him that he only had minutes before he could expect his back thrust against a wall, fangs in his neck… Payment claimed for keeping a lone wandering trader safe another day out in the anarchy world.

Wake up, he warns himself, and dissolves to begging at the memory of his own anxious hands grabbing the shirts of a dozen anivores for support. Wake up. This isn't real. Get out!

Some hands had been a good deal gentler. That didn't always make them perfect. But Impulse had only been rough once. Vee almost too soft. BigB… Well, they didn't say much on the first and last trek they ever took together, even when collapsing into the same guest server and sharing a bed (with Vee, too) after a long, long day. Mumbo distinctly remembers the guy rolling over once, mumbling "Your turn," when the baby allays started fussing for their milk. It's laughable, looking back on it, although Mumbo had griped about it at the time. Hysterical. I can't believe I didn't crack up! BigB's underrated. He should let Grian know; make sure he remembers to appreciate what he has.

And Martyn… Martyn hadn't taken any adventures with him. But he'd roleplayed softly in their bed, letting Mumbo (For once, for once) take the lead.

He's lying on his back. Which isn't usual for him. Shapes and figures blur together. But he hears… words? Sounds like words. This is people-talk. He stirs without cracking open his eyes.

"Let's go," cheers a pleasant, pumped-up voice from somewhere to his right. A masculine voice. Big. Loud. One that's only familiar on the very fringes of his memory, like a frayed tassel on his llamas' blankets that he's always had, but only remembers when he's looking straight at it. Chair legs screech across the floor. Mumbo winces, screwing his eyelids tighter, but the mystery figure isn't one to be put off by silent rejection. "Welcome back to New Star! Boy, am I glad I decided to check in mentally for work today. What's this guy's name again? Oh, right, right. Well, we can cross 'Save patient' off our daily tasks. What's next?"

Oh, goodness… His eyeballs want to yawn. He tries it with his mouth, though it's… less satisfying than it probably would be on a server with actual sleep mechanics. Well, at least my head's no longer clicking. Fading images still dance across his mental comm screen, but they're swirling into smoke the more he shifts around, zoning back into the world. Mumbo blinks his eyes a few times, trying to make them stick. The face of a man with a black, neatly trimmed beard swims into view above him. Maybe a little too close.

"… I know you."

The man's face snaps from pleasant to shocked real fast. He bites one corner of his lip, leaning back in his chair. What? Mumbo's voice feels scratchy in his throat, even unspoken. Before he can get his next words out, the man's addressing another figure in the room somewhere out of sight. "Ohoooh… He knows me, and I had to check his file 4 times before I burned his name into memory. That's about to be real awkward. Hey- You know what? Accidents happen. That's life."

"Yeah, I know you," Mumbo mutters, mostly to himself. He lives across the hall from Martyn and Jimmy. Simmers' Quarter. Seen him around. He sort of hops all over the place. But the name escapes him. Mumbo should care about that. Should he care? A zing of guilt courses up his back at the thought of forgetting his ex-husband's immediate neighbor, but he breathes through his teeth instead of saying so.

… Okay. Take stock. Mm. If he can get his brain to drag itself awake from a sluggish, whimpery state, that is. Mumbo runs his fingers through sticky threads of mussed-up hair. His body doesn't ache, surprisingly enough. Or maybe not surprisingly; double regen is a killer. Well, the exact opposite of a killer. He braces his hand to the mattress, pushing himself to a sitting position. Mumbo brushes his fingers across his mustache. He goes to flip his F5 eyes on, but the shift makes him so dizzy, he pulls back and drops his face in his hands instead.

The bearded man scoots his chair closer to his bedside, all smiles and absentminded apologies. He double pats his chest. Thump-thump. "Hey, I'm James Turner- formerly known as The Sim Supply. Well, not over here… You kind of had to be there. And if anyone tells you I designed Vanillite, they've got the wrong guy. Ask your husband; he'll vouch for me."

"… Uh. Oh, goodness me." If he were in one of Martyn's mangas, he'd have slash lines across his face, flushing up a storm. Mumbo reaches for his hood. No robes. His hands clasp on empty air, so he pulls his blankets into his lap instead, squirming his hands between his legs. "Aha… I should probably come clean about that. Martyn and I aren't, um… sleeping together anymore."

Sleeping doesn't feel as hot and bitter on his tongue as married would. And it's the accurate word, even if it stings. It feels more correct than dating. They'd flirt and play and cuddle, usually with fingers in each other's clothes and hair, until they got all snuggled up and Mumbo (eventually) drifted off to sleep. Martyn left by dawn every morning, all his blond hairs despawned from the bed. Nocturnal phantom code. Warm. Soft. I��� needed space. And I was leaving for a trip, and it was never really that serious anyway. Okay, that sounds bad out of context, but-

James' frown burns a scar in the crest of his head. "Uh. Dude? Does Martyn know?"

"It was 100 years ago!" He can hold his head high and proud on that, except he can't. "Did nobody get the memo?" And without a hood to tug over his face, he looks away, just biting the edge of his knuckle and gripping the hospital bedsheets with his hand. Wait. Why am I in hospital? Seriously, that memory just went out the window. Did he get flashbanged? Close range? He touches two fingers to his scalp. Sore…

"… Didn't I see your mouth all over him at the shower house on Friday?"

Ohh, don't remind me… Mumbo fumbles through a couple squeaks, then focuses on the more pertinent question. "Sorry; why am I here, exactly?" And why do I smell bacon?

[Full chapter on AO3 - Link at top]

[envy-of-the-apple]

Fun Sized

Dark!Fairy!Gojo Satoru x reader

Word Count: 2k

Synopsis: You save a tiny fairy. Gojo Satoru decides that you and him belong together, regardless of how little he is and how little you think of him. 

(Warnings: Yandere, not many warnings in this one ngl)

The fae are a dangerous bunch. You've heard more than enough stories to be spooked. Sirens will sing beautiful songs before dragging you into the depths. Dragons will burn you to a crisp before a second's thought. Nagas would make sure you were alive until the very end as they feast on your organs. Centaurs would use their powerful legs to stomp yours to mere twigs. Driders would suck your blood until there's nothing left but a husk of your body. 

You've never heard anything about fairies. They didn't live in your region. Their lands were high in the mountains, where humans rarely traveled. Also, they were so tiny, according to the books. The biggest seemed to be barely the size of your hand. They were harmless, you concluded. Harmless to humans. Harmless to you. 

He had been harmless. At first, you thought it was a cluster of leaves in the stream, but as the current drew it closer, you noticed tiny arms and a tiny face. He was unconscious; you didn't even know if the poor thing was alive. 

The Fae are a dangerous bunch, but saving one tiny fairy couldn't hurt, right? 

Your guest quickly proved to be a bigger hassle than you initially thought. 

When you brought him to your cottage, he laid in a basket of warm linen, asleep for hours near the warm fireplace. The blueberry pie was still hot when you turned around and caught him staring at you. 

It was silent for a while, and then you said: 

"Do you like sweets?" 

That's how your tentative friendship with the other kind started. Gojo Satoru (you later learned his name) was a boisterous thing. He did in fact like sweets, which helped bribe his friendship. You're surprised that he ate so much despite his stature. Did all faires have black holes for stomachs? 

He healed up rather quickly. At first, you were afraid that his wings had crumbled due to the prolonged exposure to water. But after stuffing himself full of the blueberry syrup, he smiled widely before flitting out your window. 

You thought that would be the end of it, but then he just came coming back. 

Apparently, your baking skills left an impact on the small creature. He didn't visit often, but when he did, you would always make sure you had something. Whether it be cookies, brownies, or that blueberry pie he was so fond of. Anything was good enough for Gojo's taste palette. 

"In the fae lands," Gojo said when you prodded, "sweets are too sweet. Yours is just enough."  You weren't too sure what he meant by that, but you took it as a compliment. You were sure the fae wasn't something who'd give praises so easily. 

It's not like you were upset at providing food for your tiny friend. Quite the contrary. You loved it when Gojo visited. You found him fascinating, the way he could fly miles and miles above your head. How tiny he was. The amount of times you had to hold yourself back from squishing him between your fingers because of how cute he was scared you. 

And you hoped you were fascinating enough to entertain Gojo. You had to be; you don't know why else he'd keep coming back. Even after gobbling down your cooking, he'd lounge around your home, entertaining you with his stories. You learned of the other magical creatures he was in contact with, the students he taught, and how fond he was of them. You don't know why he was so open about sharing his personal life with you, in the stories fae hated humanity, but you would never complain. 

It doesn't click as to why Gojo's so invested in you until he comes out and says it himself. 

"Instead of me coming back and forth like this, why don't you just come live with me?" He says, "I would cut down my flying time by a lot." 

You stare at him in amusement, sure he's joking. "I'm not sure how I'd fit in your house." You tease. "I'd probably crush all your furniture." 

"I can make my house bigger." He announces. "Don't worry 'bout it, just say yes." 

You stare at him, slowly realizing that he isn't as amused. He's still smiling, but there's no joke. 

"No," you finally say, "I'm not doing that." 

He cocks his head surprised as though he's never had someone reject him before. 

"What?" He asks, "Why not?"

"Well." You clear your throat. "For one, I'm human, and you're a fairie. I don't think Fae would appreciate a human wandering around in their lands." 

"Who cares about all that?" Gojo waves his hands around. "You'll be with me, anyways. It'd be fine." 

"I don't get why you're so fixated on the human realm." His mouth turns into a sneer. "It's all so boring. Nothing ever happens. And our magic is much more advanced than yours." It's true. You can't disagree with that. Satoru didn't wear clothes made out of leaves or vines, unlike the common fairy stereotype. His clothing looked much more advanced compared to your loose cotton dresses. A black shirt with intricate buttons and long sleeves. Along with black trousers. You wonder what material could make his suit so shiny. 

You laugh at his disgust. At that time, you saw Gojo as a tiny child clutching their mother's skirts, a cute puppy. You hadn't yet taken Gojo Satoru as the threat he was. 

"It's because I am human." You say, not offended by his remarks. "So I like being near other humans." 

He groans as though your logic makes no sense. "Yuji and the others ask about you all the time, though. They've been dying to meet you." 

"You talk to your students about the giant that cooks for you? I'm flattered." 

"You're dodging," he warns. You roll your eyes. 

"Satoru, I'm not coming to live with you. It'd be too much of a hassle." You finally say. "Besides, you're not my type." 

"I'm everyone's type." He argues. 

"Not mine." You smile, and then you make your first blunder. 

"I like my men a little taller." 

He stiffens, and you know you said the wrong thing. Your smile fades as does the cheery energy in your cottage. He says nothing, but he's zipping out your window before you can apologize. 

He doesn't return for the longest time. You count the weeks. Guilt weighs on your shoulders, heavy and burdensome. Every day you bake something even tastier than the day before. Not even that is enough to coax him back. 

You think you've lost him forever, when he returns on one sweltering summer evening. 

"Hi." You blink. He's watching you, sitting idly on the window, kicking his tiny feet. 

"Hi." He smiles. 

You're happy enough to grab him with one fist and hugging him to your chest, but as always, you stop yourself. Instead, a shy smile rests on your face. 

"I'm sorry," you say, "I really am...will you accept an apology pie?" 

He grins wider, and you relax. 

He eats, and you're grateful. Something you once cherished in your life has finally come back to you. You might not return Gojo's feelings, but you still care for him. You'd rather die than ever hurt him again. 

"No, you're right." Gojo surprisingly concedes when you apologize for the third time. "We're too different. It'd never work out. Not as the way you are, right now." 

You nod, grateful he's so understanding. "Exactly." 

He's finishing up when he announces he brought you a gift. 

"I've been working on it for the past few weeks," he cheerily says. "It took a while, but it's finally safe for human consumption." 

He takes out a tiny glass bottle filled with something swirling and blue. When he asks you to bring a glass of water, you acquiesce. To your astonishment, when the elixer is poured, the entire water becomes a swirling mass of a color comparable to none other than galaxies. You're so mesmerized by the color, it's enough to stump your voice. 

"For you!" He declares. "You've always been cooking for me; thought I might return the favor, just this once." 

"What is it?" You ask, amazed by the color. You admire the glance, unaware of the glint in Gojo's eye. 

"It's kinda like the wine you have in the mortal realms, but a little less poignant." He gives when you glance at him. "Go on, tell me what you think?" 

You're too trusting, and so you make your second blunder. 

Once you start, you can't seem to stop. The taste is otherworldly, addicting. You drink and drink, not wasting a single drop. You're breathing heavily once the cup detaches from your lips. 

"Amazing." You say before looking at him. His eyes are too wide, but you're too distracted by the taste still on your tongue. "Seriously, what was that? Can I make it here?" 

He scratches the back of his head. "Not really, the ingredients are pretty hard to find." He shrugs. "Besides, it's supposed to be a one-time use." 

Your eyebrows twist, and then the world sinks. 

You're falling. You think you are. You don't really know. Everything feels like it's stretching. The walls of your tiny little cottage get higher and higher and higher. The floor gets more and more warped. You're sinking, sinking through the air. When you scream, nothing comes out. You feel like you're choking because you can't breathe, and then your vision grows black. 

The next time you open your eyes. It's still dark, and to your horror, you realize you're buried underneath something. 

You panic, clawing and tearing your way out. The material gives away easily. It's fabric. Cotton. But there was so much, an undying ocean of fabric. You lift yourself up from the pile and that's when you realize you're completely naked. 

The mountain of cotton you just climbed to the top of was your old dress. 

Everything was gigantic—the table, the chairs. The windows seemed endless. The ceiling looked miles above you, and you know what happened, but your brain can't formulate it because it can't be—it just can't be.

There's a flutter of wings. You always thought he was so quiet before. Now, he's all you can hear. Immediately, you wrap your body with the cloth. It's hard to keep still; your body is buzzing with nerves and you still can't understand. You have to force yourself to look at him.

You don't know why you expected shock, guilt, something other than the pure manic glee on his face. Satoru towers above you, head tilted. He bends down, cupping your trembling face in his hand because he's big enough to do that now. 

"Just when I thought you couldn't get any more adorable." He coos. 

You can see him now. His skin isn't pale, it's borderline translucent. His canines are sharp and pointy. And his eyes. Oh God you've never seen eyes so terrifying before—an endless mass of blue, threatening to swallow you whole. 

He wasn't a cute little fairy. He was anything but that. 

"Gojo..." You start, heart squeezing. "What did you do.." 

You know. He knows. That's why he ignores your question entirely. 

"I'm surprised it worked." He says, mainly talking to himself. "Shoko said it might be a dud, and she was so sure of it, that I mostly believed her." 

"But now look at you!" He roughly pinches your cheek. "You're the perfect size now." 

"Stop." You blubber, pushing his hand off of you. "Don't touch me. Change me back. Change me back." 

He frowns. "Why would I do that? You being human-sized was always such a hassle. Lumbering around. Way too loud. Don't get me wrong, I adore you either way." He proclaims like it's something benevolent. "But this has its charm."

He leans forward, and you scuddle backward in fear. His grin widens. 

"So, am I tall enough for you, now?" 

[clovermoters]

Slim Pickin’s

☕️ ln4 x bestfriend!reader

☕️ where your childhood wish becomes a reality

☕️ warnings - none !! just some fluff and kisses

☕️ word count 1.5k

☕️ a/n : so i heard sabrina carpenters song that’s gonna be on short n’ sweet and then this was born two days later !! enjoy <33

“Maybe I'm gay.”

your best friend, lando, looks at you, confused. “what?” he asks through a chuckle.

you were fed up. The number of douchebag men that you have in your phone and not one of them has ever made it to a second date. That fact makes you want to rip your eyeballs out.

“maybe god just forgot my gay awakening and that’s why i can’t find a boyfriend! maybe i just don’t like men.” you throw your head back on the couch in lando’s living room in monaco.

“i doubt that he just forgot,” lando giggles

you knew this wasn't true. you knew you liked men and only men. because you definitely liked the man sitting at your feet, and you have since you were both 15. you’ve just never ever told him.

And you planned to keep it that way.

you groaned. “No, Lando, you don’t get it! it’s slim pickings around here. half the men in my phone don’t even know the difference between there, their and they’re!” quiet giggles from the man sitting across the couch from you filled the room.

Lando knew you were only joking, yet he can’t help but feel bad at your lack of dating life when he has models flocking toward him at all hours of the day. granted, the girl he wants isn’t even a model. In fact, she’s sitting right in front of him, sprawled out on his couch, complaining about boys. but she didn’t know that.

And he planned on keeping it that way.

—

Throughout your week-long stay in Monaco, you decided to set yourself on a mission to meet a guy and go on a date. On the fourth day, you were successful!

During a coffee run while lando streamed, you met a guy who asked you out to dinner the following night. You were so excited since given your history, the chance of a guy asking you out was close to zero. When he asked you even scanned your surroundings to make sure he was talking to you specifically.

you were getting ready in the guest room of lando’s apartment, since you were staying there during your visit.

while applying your lip liner and gloss, you heard a knock on the door. “Hey, what are you thinking we do for din- woah.”

the curly haired brunette stared at you in awe. you were always beautiful in his eyes, yet right now he was looking at you like you were the only girl in the world. it then clicks in lando’s head that you’re not dressed for him. “Why are you all dressed up?!” he teases, a mischievous smirk on his face.

“oh i have a date!” you hum with a smile.

he looks at you confused, like he doesn’t believe you fully. leaning against the doorway “what happened to slim pickings?” he pokes, crossing his arms atop his chest.

“can’t a girl meet a guy and go on a date? gosh.” you scoff, slightly annoyed that he’s teasing you over this. you’d hoped he would be happy you’re crawling your way out of this slump of being single. it was one of the things you loved about him — how he always treated you with nothing but kindness and support.

“Fine, fine, whatever. have fun, i guess” he turns around and ducks into his office, closing the door harsher than you expected. Just as you make a mental reminder to have a talk with him about it, your phone chimes — your date is waiting in the lobby.

lando watches you from the cracked doorway of his office, as you do a final check of your makeup in the mirror of the mud room. he thought you looked beautiful and was silently raging at the fact he isn’t the man you’ve dressed up for tonight. he’s liked you since you both were young kids running through the suburban bristol streets while your parents sat on the patio of his childhood home socializing over cocktails.

You were always there to support him through his racing career and you were the first person he called after McLaren chose to extend his contract. While he doubted himself and everyone told him to leave, you told him to follow his heart and do what felt right to him. Now, he’s a race winner with the team he calls home. To him, it’s always been you. You have always been the girl he pictured his life with.

But his gut always told him you’d never return these feelings back to him.

—

your date went horrible. All the guy did was talk about himself. and once he found out you were friends with some celebrities, the date had ended there for you. although you got some free drinks and a meal out of it. it only made you fall further into this loneliness.

the elevator dings, signaling you’ve arrived at the floor of lando’s apartment. you stumble to lando’s door. the alcohol takes effect and makes you trip into the door, startling Lando who’s standing just on the other side, waiting for you. He throws the door open, finding you standing there with slightly messed up hair and a frown on your face.

“c’mere,” he says quietly, taking you to the couch. sat on the coffee table in front of you, he gently took your foot into his lap. you feel his soft touch as he gently removes your heels from your feet. sending shivers down your spine.

“It was horrible. all he did was talk about himself,” you say frustrated. “I also accidentally let it slip that I knew you, oh, and don’t even get me started on his horrible taste in just about everything.”

He helps you up, taking you to the bathroom and sitting you down on the counter. He rummages through your toiletries bag, before taking out your makeup remover. As he starts removing your makeup, you study every inch of his face, counting every freckle and watching the way his jaw muscles clench as he focuses.

god he was beautiful.

you feel a lump in your throat as tears begin to fill your eyes.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” Lando asks, halting his movements.

“it’s just- i'm pretty sure every good man in this world is either taken or dead and its not fair.” you say letting a stray tear fall. in your head you knew you were being dramatic, but the three glasses of wine you had to get through that date have taken full control of your emotions.

Lando chuckles lightly, folding with the used makeup wipe in his hands, he looks to you “well, i’m neither of those things.” he says softly, almost as if he’s upset.

fuck. shit.

“no, no, wait, lando- i didn’t mean it like that, you're a great guy. an amazing guy actually.” you say quickly. he smiles at you as you continue to ramble “i mean, shit, i’d date you in a heartbeat-“

“what?”

you slap your hand over your mouth. holy fuck, did you really just say that? and Lando not saying anything just solidifies that he doesn’t return your feelings. Lando is staring at you like you’ve got three heads coming out of both of your ears.

you start to panic “i’m sorry, i don’t know why i said that, forget i said any-“ you’re cut off with the feeling of lando’s lips crashing into yours. his hands gently cup your face as he kisses you. you instantly return the kiss. The world slowly falls away leaving just the two of you. your hands moving to find home in his curl, slightly pulling on them. Lando releases a quiet groan. His hands work their way down your body to rest on your hips, gently pulling you closer to him.

Lando pulls away and rests his forehead against yours. “I have literally loved you since we were 16.”

you smile at him, “i love you, too.”

The two of you find yourself in Lando's bed watching your favorite movie, wrapped up in eachother. Lando turns his head to look down at you resting on his chest. Admiring your sleepy state as you attempt to stay focused on the movie he gave up on watching. How can he focus on anything else when you were sitting next to him?

the girl he's wanted since the two of you sat on his porch on a late summer night, eating the ice cream his mother tried to hide. giggles filling the air while you pointed out constellations to lando, chatting about where you wanted to be in 5 years.

“Well I hope to be in formula 1” Lando admitted. “You'll be there, I'm sure of it.” you added giving lando a smile he swore was brighter than the stars sat above.

He gasps slightly “don't move”

you freeze as he reaches a hand to your cheek, softly swiping a fallen eyelash holding it in front you.

“Make a wish” he breathed.

You shut your eyes tight, emphasizing the wish you were making before taking a big breath and sending the eyelash into the air. Followed by the sound of giggles coming from the brunette, he asks what you wished for. “If i tell you it won't come true!” you gasp faking offense.

who knew that after 8 years, your wish would finally came true.

🤍☕️.

AYAYAYAYAY ALL DONE !!

big thank u too my lovely friend who edited this and helped me <33

[rafeskiss]

juno ! ᥫ᭡

pairing: rafe cameron x fem! reader

word count: 980

summary: boat days with rafey make you so fucking horny<333 based on the song ‘juno’ by sabrina carpenter

warnings: no actual smut, use of y/n, mentions of pregnancy, alcohol, probably more i dont fucking know

authors note: IM BAAAACK! bringing back the short n’ sweet inspired rafe fics

boat days with rafe were your favorite days. you didn’t have to be sexual with rafe to have fun together, and you guys had your own way of showing appreciation— which, of course, included sex some days, but you also just got each other.

your love for each other was showcased best on the druthers on hot and sticky summer afternoons. you’d be tanning and feel a lack of warmth for a second, opening your eyes to see rafe towering over you, blocking the sun. a fruity seltzer in his hand, he’d hand it to you and you’d continue tanning. you didn’t ever have to tell him what you were thinking, he just gets it.

or he’d let you apply sunscreen on him— this was a rarity. he claimed he didn’t care if he got burnt or not, and you’d always reply with something along the lines of ‘you will care when you get skin cancer in 20 years!’ so you’d stand on your tippy toes, rubbing the white substance on his face, chest, back, arms, and legs until you saw fit. this was also a perfect excuse to feel him up. you hated his father, ward, for giving him life-long daddy issues but this was one of the only times you’d thank him. God bless his dad’s genetics, because rafe cameron is one sight to see and feel under the north carolina heat. beads of sweat dotting his face and chest, small freckles appearing on his nose and how gorgeous he looked driving the boat.

today was one of those days; you in a tiny pink bikini and rafe looking particularly fuckable edible hot pretty. you watched as he steered the boat towards wherever the hell he was taking you, his grip on the steering wheel showing off his toned, muscular arms. you just about melted in your sun chair rafe layed out for you.

it was days like this where you seemed to be so in love you’d do just about anything for him. rafe was too busy steering the boat, leaving you alone in your thoughts as you soaked up the vitamin d. you often thought about your future with rafe, and rafe doesn’t talk about the future rarely ever, but you knew he’d want your touch for life. he hasn’t and probably won’t ever come out and directly say he wants to spend forever with you, but his words always allude to it.

you never take the things he says during sex seriously; he’s always grunting about putting a baby in you or telling you to never ever leave him— you wouldn’t dare— but you wonder if he really truly means it. however, this doesn’t stop you from hinting at the fact you would like this all to become a reality. he’d be picking you up to go to dinner and you’d do a little twirl, showing off your dress. he’d tell you you look great, just like always, and you’d be like ‘well, there’s actually one thing missing…’ rafe would grumble something like ‘fuck are you talkin’ bout, kid? you’re fully dressed.’ and you’d stick your left hand out to him, showing him your naked ring finger. ‘missing a rock right there.’ and he’d roll his eyes and tell you to get in the damn truck.

you hopped off the tanning chair and found your way to a mini fridge that’s always stocked with various drinks. you opted for a twisted tea and you grabbed rafe a beer. you giddily walked to find rafe who was standing by the steering wheel, one hand on it and the other glancing down at his phone.

“here ya go,” you smiled and handed him the glass bottle.

“thanks, baby.” he said while placing a kiss to your temple, turning his phone off.

you looked at his hands on the steering wheel, noticing the lack of a wedding ring on his hand. you frown, “looks so boring right here, right?” you look up at him, your finger pointing to his ring finger.

“can you just wait?” he scolded.

“i just think this day would be even more perfect with a mini us running around!” you declared, looking around the boat imagining a tiny rafe or a tiny you waddling all over.

he rolled his eyes and continued steering the boat.

“like, one of me is cute but two though?”

rafe laughed, “are you ovulating or something? holy shit,”

you smiled and planted a kiss on his cheek, “can’t help it.”

“jus’… gimme time, baby.” he muttered before taking a sip of his beer.

so maybe having a baby at 19 wasn’t the best idea. but there were far worse things you could be doing with your life! rafe has enough money to support you and the baby until the end of time, including your retail therapy and regular therapy, so what is so wrong with that?

“give me one good reason why we can’t have a baby right now.” you said, crossing your arms which only made rafe take this conversation less serious because his eyes were immediately drawn to your tits.

rafe smirked, “shit, i dunno. i will say, your tits would be massive with a little baby in you.”

you gasped, “so you do wanna have a baby!”

“never said that.” he sniffed.

rolling your eyes you said, “whatever. god forbid i want a future with you!” you stormed off leaving rafe behind you.

of course, rafe didn’t want to hurt your feelings so he apologized very thoroughly later. he made sure to tell you that he did want a future with you, but he wants you to enjoy your young adulthood before potentially wrecking your life and freedom by bringing a baby into the world. in response to this, you stuck your tongue out at him.

“see, who needs a fucking baby when we got you around?” he said teasingly.

TAGLIST (reply to my tag list post to be added)

@xcinnamonmalfoyx @neediestpuppy @ethanthequeefqueen @maybankslover @pankowblues @drewsphswife @wearemadeofstardust0

[3verythingiknowaboutlove]

yeehaw

how spencer convinces reader to stay in rather than go out

MDNI | suggestive fluff!

word count: 1217

warnings & tags & stuff: fem!reader, def some nsfw descriptions of spence, all around suggestiveness, fade to black

author's note: second piece of writing yayy!!! this was originally gonna be smut but i got scared lol. anyway please lemme know your thoughts im DYING to improve. sooo yes i hope you have a wonderful day and here this is ig! 😚

Sitting alone in your room, you tugged on a pair of never-before worn cowboy boots. They were most definitely not broken in, and you knew you were in for an uncomfortable night of baby blisters on the bottoms of your feet. However, life is full of compromises, and these were too cute to pass on.

Especially for a night of line dancing with your boyfriend’s coworkers. Who knew that FBI agents got down like that?

You stand and plug in your earbuds, choosing to absolutely blast ‘Fearless (Taylor’s Version)’ by Taylor Swift. Also known as the only tolerable country music.

Dancing out to the kitchen, you wrap your arms around your lovely boyfriend who was preparing a cup of tea, absolutely not dressed for a night of country conviviality. Spencer looks you up and down, a teasing smile playing on his face.

“Hey cowgirl,” he says, gently removing your earbuds. “Penelope has been texting me on average every 10 minutes about how excited she is for tonight. I hope you’re ready.”

“Oh god,” you laugh. “I wish you were coming too.”

“I know. But that sounds awful,” he says in his matter-of-fact way. “Hey, I do have something for you,” he mentions. You look up at him, and he runs quickly upstairs to grab his bag. He comes down and brandishes his very own cowboy hat. “From the times Penelope didn’t have you to drag along with her and I was her chosen victim.”

“For me?” You ask excitedly. He puts it on you. Although it’s a little big, it 100% completes the look. You look up at him. “Think I would make a good cowgirl?” He peers down at you, trying to tell if you’re joking.

“No,” He goes the serious route and you furrow your brow at him. “You hate the dirt. And the heat,” he explains, emphatically defending himself.

“I guess you’re right. I don’t really do well with horses either,” you murmur.

“You do make a cute cowgirl for the night though, even if it’s not your true calling.” He ruffles your hat.

“Yeah?” You smile. “It’s not too much with both the boots and the hat?”

Spencer blinks.

“Have you met Penelope? She always has a lot going on. More than this.”

You giggle.

“They’ll all adore you, JJ, Emily,” he reassures, stroking the side of your waist.

You had known Penelope for a few months, ever since you started dating Spencer. But you had yet to meet the rest of the girls on his team. You were definitely excited, they seemed really cool. But you were definitely also nervous.

Spencer, jarring you from your thoughts, whips out his very outdated phone that he somehow still manages to operate, and opens the camera.

“Smile.” You do so, showing off all your teeth. You move to look at the picture, and Spencer tilts the screen toward you. “See? Adorable.”

You stand on your tippy toes for a kiss, and he complies quickly. A little too quickly to not have any meaning behind it. Your eyes flit down, and you notice a slight bulge in Spencer’s pants that wasn’t there a few minutes ago.

You raised your eyebrows and looked up at him. “Can I convince you to stay?” He whispers, half smiling. You tilt your head.

“Maybe” you say shyly.

“What if I told you that the chances are slim to none that you are actually going to line dance tonight? Penelope and JJ always end up sitting at the bar, and Emily always gives up half a song in and joins them. Without fail,” he says. You purse your lips, heart beating a little faster for whatever reason.

“That could still be fun,” you reason.

“Not in those shoes,” he says, rubbing your hip softly. “I know they must hurt; they’re brand new and you’re already shifting your weight between your feet much too frequently.”

You look down at your feet. He was not lying. “You’re too observant. This is why you basically always have your way with me.” You exhale.

“By caring about you? I could keep going. I know that you hate country music. And no, Taylor Swift does not count. She’s an outlier. And she was born in Pennsylvania. That’s barely real country music. You’d be miserable all night.”

“Yes, you would know about ‘real’ country music, Mr. Las Vegas,” you counter.

“That would be Dr. Vegas to you,” he quips, bending down once again and giving you a kiss. You reciprocate, kissing the corner of his mouth. “What if I told you I really wanted you to stay? Bad?”

“Bad? I guess I’ll stay, if it’s bad. But you have to be the one to text Penelope,” you say begrudgingly. As if you weren’t as releived as can be. And as if Spencer didn’t know that.

He smiles and allows his arms to wrap around your waist. Spencer’s kisses become slower, you could feel every aspect of them. His lips, of course, but also his stubble. The air being pushed out of his nose. The hand swiping it’s typical resting spot, your cheek. His tongue delicately tracing your mouth. It all feels so calculated for you, so measured.

And you, on the other hand, are a mess, trying to keep up. Your heart is pounding and you’re sure your face is noticeably hot. And by the time Spencer leads you to your room and sits you down on the bed, its temperature has only increased.

You kick off your boots. He sits next to you, his hands holding your waist, ever so firm. He brings them up, thumbing the inside hem of your tank top.

“All good?” He checks.

“Yeah,” you say, head spinning with all the good chemicals.

“Deep breaths for me, okay? Gotta keep your blood flowing appropriately,” he reminds you, leaning back and taking you in. “Pretty girl.” You blush and his hands move to your lower back over your tank top, delicately brushing over in a way that gives you goose bumps. You shiver.

His eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “You’re sensitive in your lower back. God, there’s still so much more to learn about you.” He breathes out.

“Good. I was scared you’d get bored, with your perfect memory and all,” you joke.

“Bored? The human brain is limitless. Your brain is limitless. I wanna know everything I possibly can that goes on up there. Everything that makes it feel good. It’s the least boring thing I can think of.” You blush and look down.

You lean in for another kiss, this time to his jawline and neck. Your hands slide up his stomach under his shirt a little and and you look up to him.

“Okay?” This time you ask.

Spencer nods. “Okay.” Your hands trace up under his own shirt, and you immediately lean in to kiss him, holding his chin.

All of a sudden he’s everywhere. Even sitting next to you, he manages to take over every ounce of your body. He’s kissing your mouth and forehead and cheeks, one hand is holding your face, and the other is mapping your stomach.

“Can we try something new then? If we wanna do and learn everything?” You whisper. One quick tête-à-tête later, you’re sitting on his lap, shifting your hips softly as he held your waist for you.

“I guess I was wrong. You’re gonna be an amazing cowgirl.”

[praisethegabs]

HATE THAT I LOVE YOU

leon kennedy x f!reader

synopsis: Leon can't stand seeing you around him. You know how much he hates you and you like having fun with it. Things get worse when the two of you get lost during one mission, with no comms to call for help. Leon blames you for everything, until he revels something he shouldn't.

warnings: ENEMIES TO LOVERS. descriptions of injuries, reader taking care of leon, comfort, fake marriage, descriptions of nudity, leon drunk and and reader teasing him. small reference to call of duty characters as part of reader backstory.

word count: 10k +

a/n: heavily inspired by "death of me" by wizthemc. cover from laughingwallaby on x/twitter. it isn't necessary to listen to the song, but I highly recommend it.

"he’d set fire to the world around him but never let a flame touch her" senlinyu

Leon Kennedy hates you more than anything else in this world. 

He hated the fact he was obligated to be your partner, hated the reckless way you always managed to finish a mission practically intact, and hated the way you always succeeded in something, no matter what it was. He hates you entirely, even your perfume is enough to get him on his nerves. 

He hates you ten times more because he knows you know he hates you, and you seem like you don't care about it at all. 

It all started three years ago, when he discovered he would be your new partner. Your name was pretty famous, and so were you. Not that he envies your success, but he never thought he would be under the shadow of someone like you. At first, Leon was very impressed with your skills and the way you work, but two weeks later, he started to despise you, and this feeling turned into hatred. 

You ain’t stupid, you can even feel all the hate he has towards you, and things get better because you have this masochist side of yours that makes you feel happy seeing how angry he can be at you. 

Although you don’t care about the reasons he hates you, the thing is, you can’t deny how attractive Leon can be, and having him as your partner makes every other agent jealous of how lucky you are. It’s Agent Kennedy, the one and only. The guy who rescued the president's daughter and basically did other significant things for the government. 

But, despite the Leon you know at work, his entire life is a blank page. You know absolutely nothing about him, and he doesn’t care about sharing his personal life details with someone he hates. You noticed a while ago that you are the only person Leon ignores and despises completely, and he avoids talking to you as much as he can, only when it is necessary. And when he opens that pretty mouth of his, it usually contains hateful words. 

At this point, you just do your job the way you see fit and come back home safely, not caring about Leon’s arrogant ass. 

“You could have killed us!” Leon snaps at you, his entire demeanor showing stress. He can’t avoid grabbing you by your arm and squeezing it tightly, which makes you groan.

“Well, golden boy, at least your ass is intact and here. I’d like to hear a nice ‘thank you’, how about it?” You smirk and tilt your head, and in response, his entire face turns red with anger.  

“You’re so fucking immature. Do you think you’ll be lucky for the rest of your life?” He raised his voice, his hand on your arm getting tighter by the second. The expression on your lips didn’t make things easier. “One day, you won’t be that lucky, and you’ll probably drop dead somewhere. I won’t be there to pick up your pieces. Do you want to risk your life? Go ahead, I don’t fucking care, but don’t drag me into your bullshit again. I’m your partner, not your babysitter” 

“I’m really surprised you consider me your partner, Kennedy,” you smirk again, and that smirk was enough to infuriate Leon more than he already was. 

Leon was on the verge of yelling at you, but the cold expression that quickly went up on his face was enough to make your smirk disappear. You have never seen him like that, it was weird. 

“Maybe I should change that,” he hissed with cold and dead eyes, finally letting go of your arm.

“Good luck with that, Kennedy,” you coo, crossing your arms over your chest as you speak. 

After saying that, the smile you gave him was enough to make Leon livid. He wanted so badly to take that ironic smile off of your lips, he wished that right now you were a man, so he could definitely teach you a lesson you wouldn’t forget so soon. However, you are the same annoying opposite gender that he hates so much. So, instead of beating the living shit out of you, he just watched you leave, turning in the opposite direction to calm himself down before he did something stupid. 

The last mission was very simple: locate and terminate a bioweapon. As you two went there to find the said bioweapon, the entire area was drowning in chaos. The area was isolated to prevent the bioweapon from running away, and alongside you and Leon, there was the entire squad ready to follow your lead. 

It should be simple, right? Here's the part where Leon thinks you're completely reckless. Instead of following the standard protocol, you thought it would be best to use yourself as bait and literally explode the entire block. Your stupid plan really worked, and the bioweapon died in the explosion; luckily, you were left with a few scratches and a bleeding ear — which the doctor said wasn't something serious, although you would be “deaf” for a few days from your right side. 

So, when you got home, the first thing you actually did was take a nap, which turned out to be deeper than you expected. You slept for twelve hours with your phone in airplane mode so that no one could disturb your sleep. The only thing you weren't counting on was waking up to the distant sounds of someone practically wanting to take your door down. Wearing your cat pajamas, your hair a complete mess, and your face swollen after so many hours sleeping, the last person you thought you would see was Leon. 

And he was right there. 

“Do you know I’m out of the clock at the moment, right?” you asked him, with a big yawn seconds later. His face wasn't one of the most friendly you've seen. 

“Yeah? Do you think I’m here because I want it?” Leon rolls his eyes, sounding annoyed and bored. 

“Well, golden boy, if you’re here to yell at me about what happened earlier, I suggest you wait until tomorrow. I’m definitely not in the mood for you,” you said, already closing the door, when Leon suddenly stopped you. “I always thought you were a weirdo, now I’m sure of it. What do you want?” 

“Get ready for our new assignment. And try to dress in something more... elegant.” Leon gave you the file from the next mission. Surprised, you started to read the file, and out of nowhere, you started to laugh in disbelief. 

“Recently married couple on their honeymoon? Is this some kind of sick joke?” You glanced at him, still laughing nervously at your new disguise with him. 

“Trust me, I asked the same question, and unfortunately, that's our new disguise. So, get your ass ready. We’ll be leaving in three hours, Ms. Kennedy,” he said with his Stoic and cold expression as always, giving you a ring made of white gold, which made you think how expensive it was. 

“I’m pretty sure our agency wouldn’t give us this type of accessory,” you said to him, taking a good look at the ring he gave you. White gold, with a beautiful sapphire and diamonds carved around the blue stone. 

“Don’t be late,” Leon said, ignoring your last commentary. “I’ll be waiting at the airport” 

Leon left without looking at your confused expression. You had to read the file at least three times until you finally understood the mission. Leon and you were going to pose as a recently married couple enjoying their honeymoon as you two investigate a famous billionaire that made its own wealth by selling bioweapons in the market. You sighed with the sudden stress, walking towards your room to prepare your bag. After finishing your bag, you caught yourself glancing again at the ring. You were sure the agency wouldn’t give this ring to Leon for a fake marriage. It was something else, but what? 

So, one hour later, you drove to the airport. At least this time, you weren’t late, and Leon wouldn’t be making a scene over it. You found him distracted, wearing sunglasses with his leather jacket, his hair shining in the sunlight. Leon seemed very focused on the book he was reading, and it was a big surprise to see him like that, especially because you knew nothing about him. 

“So, dear husband, are you ready to go?” you ask, seeing him put his book aside. He looked very beautiful with those sunglasses. 

“Yeah, sure.” He nodded, his voice sounding calm instead of the coldness you were used to. You noticed he was wearing his own wedding ring. 

“Will you tell me where these came from?” You started to walk next to him, referring yourself to the ring he gave you, hoping it would be a real answer. 

“Why do you care? It’s just a ring,” Leon replied, avoiding the subject as much as he could. 

“I don’t think it’s just a ring. It has some marks on it, like it was used before.” The egocentric smile on your lips made Leon take a deep breath. 

“It was from my mother, okay? It’s the last thing I had from her and my dad before they died. Satisfied?” Leon harshly replied to you, and you knew you had screwed up. You didn’t know about his family, and the way he replied made you realize it was a hard subject. 

“I’m sorry, Leon. I didn’t know,” you hissed, feeling your entire face burn with shame. 

“Like you care,” he replied in a cold tone, walking away from you towards the airport. 

The rest of the flight was absolute silence. Leon didn’t speak with you and had no intention to do so. You felt terrible, but you decided not to show him any feelings; the guy literally hated you, and showing how you felt was the last thing he would believe. So, thinking about all the years of free hate, you decided it was for the best to pretend you didn’t care.

Naturally, pretending that everything was fine was one of your best qualities. You were so good at hiding your own feelings that no one could read you or decipher your emotions. 

At the hotel, hours later, you were ready to follow Leon and finish the job. Deep down, you were expecting his coldness and his famous Stoic expression, along with his grumpy humor. However, you were caught off guard when he suddenly took your bags and smiled at you. He was, indeed, a full mystery. 

“C’mon, darling. I’ll take your bags for you.” When he said that, you noticed the “recently married couple” game was on. You glance at him and smile broadly, then kiss his cheek.

“Oh, babe, you’re so sweet to me. Thank you,” you said, giving him your bag and walking in front of him like you were some kind of model. Two people could play this game, right? 

After the check-in, you two walked between fake laughs until you reached the master bedroom. Leon could pay, and so could you, but you decided to let him play along since it was his mission, and you were just his annoying partner. 

“Such a cliché… having one bed,” you sighed at the sight of the master bed in the center of the room. 

“We’re married, it should look like that.” Leon rolled his eyes, leaving your bag close to the bed as he analyzed the entire room. 

“No, we’re not married. We’re pretending to be,” you said, sitting on the edge of the bed and smirking ironically at him. “And besides, why me? You said you wanted to leave. You could have asked for any other agent”  

“Who said I didn't ask?” Leon replied with the same ironic smirk on his lips, sitting on the armchair in front of you. 

“And what did they say?” Suddenly, you sounded more upset than your usual sarcastic demeanor. You hope Leon didn’t notice. 

“Unfortunately, they can’t give me another partner. Guess I’m stuck with you for God knows how long” He sounded annoyed for a moment, but you chose to ignore it completely. 

You decided you needed a bath. You took a few clothes from your bag and decided to “play” with him. Not only that, but you removed your clothes in front of him, sensually, trying to get some reaction from him. When you glanced at Leon, he was hard.

“What are you doing?” he asked, and you noticed he was breathing heavily. Now he was nervous, and it wasn't anger. 

“We are married. I guess this is what wives do in front of their husbands.” You wink at him, making your way to the bathroom wearing nothing but your lingerie. 

Leon was completely speechless. You could see him swallowing harder, his Adam’s apple going up and down faster. The devilish smile on your lips didn’t make things easier for him, either. It took a lot of strength from him to look anywhere else but you. Leon was clearly uncomfortable and nervous. 

“You know, if you want this mission to succeed, you must pretend you don’t hate me. And for that, you need to trust me, Kennedy. I know you despise my methods, and I know you’re anxious to get rid of me, and honestly, I don’t really give a shit about your teenage behavior,” you said from the bathroom, wrapping your now naked body around a white towel and opening the door again so you could see him. “So, I promise I’ll try my best to not screw everything up. Just try not to act like the asshole you are usually whenever you’re with me” 

“Oh, I’m the asshole now.” Leon finally seemed to wake up from his own trance, and his expression suddenly changed from Stoic to aggressive. "You've acted like a complete jerk since the first day we started to work together, and according to you, I’m the asshole here? You should look at yourself in the mirror, sweetheart” 

“Then why did you stay here with me this entire time? You could have split a long time ago, golden boy,” you say, crossing your arms in your chest, not intimidated by his behavior. 

“I told you. They won’t put me with another agent. I’m stuck with you, and trust me, I wish I could have left a very long time ago,” Leon replied coldly, his blue eyes almost icy with the way he was staring at you. 

But instead of your silence, you caught him off guard.

“I know you’re lying. If you snap your fingers, they will do everything you want. You just have to ask, since you’re their golden boy. They freaking love you, Kennedy, and there’s nothing they wouldn't do to please you. Don’t bullshit me,” you said, walking slowly towards him and hissing, your eyes shining with sarcasm. 

But Leon didn’t give you an answer. Instead, he took his leather jacket and left the room without saying something. You decided to calm yourself down and go straight for a bath, enjoying the candles and their arousal. After what seemed to be a long time in the tub, you left the tub and wrapped the towel around your body; the room was still empty, and you couldn't care less about Leon. If he wanted to act like a pampered kid, that was his problem, not yours. 

You enjoyed the time alone to do your skin care routine, and decided to take care of your own body as well. It was almost eight when the phone inside your room started to ring. 

“Ms. Kennedy, I’m sorry to interrupt, but your husband seems to be causing quite a scene in the hotel bar. I might have to ask you to pick him up; otherwise, I’ll have to ask security to take care of him,” the person on the other side says to you, and immediately, you sighed. 

“I’m sorry for the inconvenience, I’ll go get him right now. Thank you,” you said, forcing the most sweet tone of voice you could at the moment.  

You left the room thinking about ending Leon. He could definitely jeopardize the entire mission with his behavior, and this was unacceptable. When you found him in the bar, he was, indeed, causing a big scene. Leon was screaming and scaring the rest of the guests, and there were at least three security guards next to him. 

“Leon, darling, come on. You've had enough,” you said, approaching him and touching his shoulder softly. 

“Are you his wife?” one of the security guards asks you with a serious expression. You couldn’t blame the man, he was only doing his job. 

“Yes, and I am really sorry for my husband. I guess he’s just too carried away…” you said with the calmest tone of voice you could, trying your best to hold him tight. 

“Ma’am, you need to control him. He made a lot of mess in the bar.” The other looked severely at you, with an angry expression. 

“I’m here, aren’t I? Don’t worry about the trouble, we can pay for the inconvenience,” you replied in a harsh tone. Suddenly, Leon threw up, and his vomit fell on the floor. “And we can pay for that too”

“Suck on that, fuckers!” Leon smiled before you dragged him back to your room. 

In the silence of the hallway, Leon had a lot of difficulty walking properly. He was stumbling on his feet and saying incoherent things in your ear. You never saw him like that, and it was pretty weird being his babysitter. You wanted to kill him, but he couldn’t even stand, and possibly wouldn’t remember a thing the next day. 

“I hate you,” you muttered, dragging him across the hallway towards your room. 

“Why do you hate me?” Leon asks, his mouth smelling of alcohol and his words confused. “Am I not good enough?” 

“Where is this coming from?” You raised both of your eyebrows in visible confusion. Finally, you reached the room and unlocked the door, dragging Leon into the bathroom. 

“I tried… to be enough… I know I’m an asshole, but… I’m scared of being hurt again, and… I push people away from me… but you’re so different…” he says between drunken hiccups, which is almost funny, but completely unexpected. “I've liked you since the first time I saw you, and… and…” Leon throws up again in the toilet, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, before looking at you again. You were completely speechless. 

“I think you need a bath,” you muttered, still shocked by his words. Your hands were shaking, and for a moment, you had no idea what you should do. 

“No… I… I need to finish this because I don’t know when I’ll have the balls to do so again…” Leon grabs you tightly, not wanting to let go of you. Biting your lower lip, you nodded. “I know I said I hate you, but… but that’s not true. I only did that because… because I was scared and thought you would reject me… so I started to act like an asshole… I’m so sorry” 

“It’s okay… I should be sorry too, I didn’t make things easier for you since day one” you said to him, sounding more kind than you usually are. He won’t remember this conversation, you are sure of it. 

“I feel complete trash… I should’ve just… asked you instead of acting like an asshole…” Leon said this between other rounds of drunken hiccups. He’s pretty wasted. 

And before this conversation could end in another way, you decided to give him a cold bath. You didn’t remove his clothes, and he complained a lot when he felt the cold water on him. After that, you had to change his clothes, and when Leon saw you touching him, he turned hard again, although he was too drunk to even be ashamed. You had trouble laying him on the bed, but he didn’t struggle against you. 

“I love you,” he whispers before falling asleep. 

The next morning, you decided to leave Leon alone for a while. You couldn’t explain to him what happened the night before because you were too shocked to say something. “I love you,” he said, and his words made a home in your head. How was that even possible?

Leon Kennedy, the guy who hated you with his entire being, said he loved you. He was drunk, and he probably didn’t mean any of those words. Maybe he was just playing a game with you, maybe that wasn’t true. However… drunk people tend to say things they usually wouldn’t say. So, there was a remote possibility that he was, indeed, telling the truth. How could you believe him? 

“Fuck… what happened?” Leon asks you when he woke up, squeezing his eyes. He had a terrible headache. 

“You got drunk last night and caused a lot of trouble in the bar,” you said, throwing at him a small, transparent bag with painkillers. 

“Shit, I can’t remember anything. My head hurts like crazy.” Leon looks at you, and you can see the effects of the hangover on his face. 

“Glad one of us has commitment to the job,” you said, sounding harsher than you wanted to be. Leon looks at you again, but completely confused this time. 

“What did I say?” he asks, and then, as you can notice, he sounds more desperate. If it were at another time, you would definitely take advantage of it, but his words echoed in your head again. 

“Nothing important. Just regular drunk stuff,” you say, shaking your shoulders, avoiding the subject that was hammering your head. 

"Fine.” He nods his head and stands up, walking to the bathroom. 

His words were floating in your head, and it was hard not to think about what happened the other night. At this point, you had no idea how you would finish the mission. Not with his words hammering in your head, penetrating your chest, and making you feel things you really don’t want to.

You hate Leon Kennedy and everything he made you feel.

He comes out of the bathroom, and he has a towel wrapped around his waist. The sight you had of him, all muscular, his body sculpted by the gods, walking like that in his own glory. It made your stomach twitch. You felt your face burning, and right now, you wanted to dissipate from the earth. 

“We have a meeting in one hour.” You had to find a lot of strength inside you to not stare at his chest when you spoke to him. 

“Can you go alone? I’m not really in perfect condition.” Leon sits on the bed, looking at you. He seems to not realize what’s happening. You, in response, shake your head. 

“No, I can’t. Since we’re married, you need to come with me. It sucks, huh?” you replied with a cold smile, looking at him with dead eyes. 

“Jesus, you’re really a pain in the ass,” he says in a deep breath, reaching for the painkillers. 

You decided to ignore his commentary and get ready for the day. According to your new schedule, the man you two went to investigate would be in a meeting and then head to the restaurant. It was the perfect opportunity. You decided to wear a short black dress, making your thighs visible, and a V-neckline, showing a little of your breasts. 

"Fuck” Leon mutters when he sees you, and you can notice he’s a little nervous. Maybe he’s starting to remember what he did last night.

“What?” you ask him, raising both of your eyebrows.

“I can’t find my phone,” he replies angrily, looking the entire room over to find his phone.

“It’s in the drawer.” You rolled your eyes, finishing with the makeup and your hair. Leon sighed in relief when he finally found his phone. “You’re welcome”

He took a few minutes until he finished getting ready. Leon was wearing a navy blue shirt, black shorts, and sunglasses, the same ones he was using at the airport. He was looking very beautiful, but you decided to keep your thoughts to yourself.

“Ready?” he finally asks you, looking at you with some curiosity. You nodded, grabbing your purse and walking next to him outside the room.

The hotel’s restaurant was filled with the clinking of cutlery and the low murmur of conversations. Leon and you decided to sit across from each other at a small, intimate table, your gazes scanning the room for any sign of your target.

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the soft jazz playing in the background provided a calming facade to the tension that lingered between them. Leon, with disheveled hair and a pair of sunglasses that only partially hid the evidence of a rough night, rubbed his temples and winced.

"Ugh, I think I might die. I can't believe you dragged me into this after last night. I swear, my head is splitting." he muttered, pretending to be reading the menu.

"This is a mission, Leon, not a vacation. You knew what you signed up for when you took that last shot. Now, pull yourself together. We need to find our guy, and your hangover isn't helping." you shot him a withering look, your eyes sharp beneath a cascade of your hair

"I just don't get why we couldn't have rescheduled this. I mean, who plans a stakeout the morning after an undercover party? It's like the universe is against me." Leon leaned back in his chair, wincing at the light filtering through the bistro's window.

"We don't have the luxury of rescheduling. This is our best chance to catch him off guard, and we can't afford any mistakes. Your lack of professionalism could jeopardize the entire mission. So, get over yourself and focus." You clenched your jaw, your frustration evident.

Leon sighed, realizing he had hit a nerve. He straightened up and took off his sunglasses, revealing bloodshot eyes.

"Fine, fine. I get it. No more complaints. Let's just eat and keep an eye out for our guy. Maybe the food will cure this hangover from hell." he said, waving his hand at the waitress.

"Good. We need to stay sharp. Our target is slippery, and we can't afford to miss any signs. Just remember, we're a married couple on a lunch date. Act natural." you nodded, your stern expression softening slightly.

As the minutes went by, the restaurant was an oasis of calm, its subdued lighting and plush furnishings a stark contrast to the pounding headache Leon was nursing.

Besides his mood and his complaints about the headache, you were the one who maintained a professional demeanor. However, your patience was wearing thin. The clinking of silverware and muted conversations formed a backdrop to your undercover mission.

"Can we make this quick? My head feels like it's about to split open." Leon winced, massaging his temples after minutes in silence.

"You brought this upon yourself, Leon. You can't let your personal life interfere with the mission. We have a job to do." You shot him a disapproving glance.

"I didn't expect last night to turn into a frat party. It was supposed to be a simple gathering." Leon sighed, regret etched on his face.

"Well, you should have thought about that before you started to behave like a pampered kid. But guess what, Kennedy? We can't change that now. We're on a timeline, and we can't afford mistakes. So, suck it up and focus." your eyes narrowed, your tone of voice sounding angry. I love you, his words, still echoing in the back of your head,

As he perused the menu, Leon's eyes flickered across the room, and he stiffened.

"There he is," he muttered, nodding discreetly toward your target who had just entered the restaurant.

"Perfect timing, Leon. Just what we needed." your gaze followed Leon's, and you cursed under your breath.

You two ordered quickly, your argument temporarily set aside as you two maintained the appearance of a normal, albeit slightly disgruntled, married couple. The target settled at a nearby table, engaged in conversation with an associate. As your food arrived, Leon's hangover-induced irritability resurfaced.

"Can we at least eat in peace before we tail him? I'm not in the mood for this undercover drama." he complains again.

"Your mood doesn't matter. We need to catch this guy. Finish your food quickly, and we'll tail him discreetly." you shot him a stern look.

Leon grumbled but complied, glancing over his shoulder at the target. The argument simmered beneath the surface, waiting for the opportune moment to erupt. As the two of you left the restaurant, the hangover weighed heavily on Leon, intensifying his annoyance. You kept your voice low as you two trailed the target through the hotel's corridors.

"Leon, I don't care about your hangover. We can argue later. Right now, we need to focus on the mission." you sharply told him in annoyance.

Leon shot back, his tone sharp, "Well, maybe if you were a bit more understanding, we wouldn't have to argue at all. This headache is killing me."

You shot him a pointed look but decided to let it go for the moment as you two approached the front desk to inquire about your room. The target was believed to be staying on one of the upper floors, and obviously, you two needed to gather information without raising suspicion. As you stepped into the elevator, Leon swayed slightly, earning a disapproving glance from you. The elevator doors closed, and Leon muttered:

"I'll be fine. Let's just get this over with."

The doors opened to a corridor adorned with plush carpeting and dimmed lights. You and Leon maintained their cover, acting the part of the honeymooning couple as you two made your way down the hall. Just as the both of you reached the door to the suspected target's room, a sudden chill crept up Leon's spine.

A group of imposing figures, undoubtedly the target's security detail, emerged from the elevator behind you. Your eyes widened as you discreetly tugged on Leon's arm, directing his attention to the unexpected threat.

"Leon, we've got company," you whispered urgently.

“Well, sweetheart, you won’t like this” Leon said, turning himself to you.

“What-”

Before you could even speak, you felt his lips crushing against yours. Something about his kiss made you feel something inside your chest. The taste of alcohol mixed with mint, the way his tongue danced inside your mouth, it was something you never felt and tasted before.

Leon tilted your chin upward, creating the perfect illusion of a stolen moment between two infatuated lovers. The security guards, momentarily thrown off by the unexpected display, hesitated in their approach. You felt him break the kiss, your eyes meeting with a shared understanding.

“That was close” he whispers, holding your hand as you two walk together in the corridor.

But you were left without any words. His kiss caught you completely off guard and for some stupid reason, you felt your legs were failing you. Something about the way Leon's lips pressed against yours sparked an internal conflict. His kiss was not one of disdain; it was fervent, almost desperate. In that moment, the line between pretense and reality blurred, and you found yourself torn between the mission and your own conflicting emotions.

As you walked in silence next to him, the tension between you two became palpable. Leon, ever the professional, maintained his stoic expression, his eyes scanning the horizon for any potential threats, even with the hangover state. You, on the other hand, couldn't shake off the unease that accompanied you every step. You stole a glance at Leon, his features carved in light of the hallway.

Suddenly, the tranquility of the night shattered as a series of sharp cracks pierced the air. Bullets whizzed past you two, sparking against the cobblestone streets. You and Leon instinctively dove behind the cover of a wall as the realization hit — you two were the targets now.

"Move!" Leon shouted over the chaos, grabbing your arm and propelling you forward.

The rhythmic staccato of gunfire followed you two, echoing through the maze of narrow alleys. The assailants were relentless, shadows in pursuit, fueled by an unseen vendetta. You two sprinted through the labyrinthine corridors, your breaths mingling with the desperate echoes of your footfalls. Leon's mind raced, analyzing escape routes and potential hiding spots. You, feeling your heart pounding, cast glances over your shoulder, your instincts sharp as you matched Leon's every move.

The honeymoon facade shattered as the two agents sprinted down the corridor, bullets whizzing past the two of you. Panic and urgency replaced the hangover-induced haze in Leon's mind. You two reached a stairwell, taking it two steps at a time, the footsteps drowned out by the chaos unfolding behind you.

As you two burst onto a lower floor, you spotted an emergency exit. Without hesitation, you burst through the door, finding yourselves in a garden. The adrenaline-fueled escape continued through the green labyrinthine surrounding the hotel, leaving the luxurious facade behind as you and Leon navigated the maze, chased by both the consequences of the cover being blown and the remnants of the security detail.

It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.

Apparently, the said billionaire found out about the two of you, and now, Leon and you had to run somewhere else safe, leaving all your belongings in the hotel. There were gunshots everywhere, and you had to fight for your dear life, protecting you and Leon with a marble statue as a form of barricade to prevent being shot.

“This isn’t how I expected my honeymoon to be,” Leon muttered, shooting one of the security guards.

“This isn’t a honeymoon either,” you replied, firing your gun at the guard, killing him with a perfect headshot. “We are not even married”

“Well, this isn’t how I imagined it, anyway. We need to get out, Ms. Kennedy,” Leon said, offering his hand to you, which you took without thinking twice. You started to run, with Leon covering your back.

You could hear the security guards running after you, two more gunshots. Likewise, you ran for your life, not daring to look behind you, knowing Leon was right behind you, making sure you were protected, which was very odd, considering the history between the two of you.

At the moment, it's the last thing you're worried about. After a few minutes of running, you managed to escape the guards and find a place to hide. You were breathing heavily, and shaking.

“Are you okay?” Leon asks you, looking at the direction you two came from.

“Why do you care?” you simply replied, coughing a little as you tried to catch your breath.

“Do you think I don’t remember what I said last night? C’mon, I might be a drunk asshole, but I don’t forget things easily.” Leon glanced at you, which was more sympathetic than usual.

“This isn’t fair. You can’t say things like that after treating me like garbage for years,” you snapped at him, finally letting your feelings go without any shame. “You can’t say you love me, and the next day you can’t barely look at my face. You can’t say you love me when the only thing that comes from your mouth is hate and disgust. This isn’t fair, and you can’t play like that with me”

After saying that, you decided to walk yourself out and leave Leon alone. Who the hell did he think he was? He had no right to play with your feelings like that. You were so angry at him for throwing that on your shoulders with no responsibility.

Besides, you had important things to deal with, not his bullshit. Your hands were shaking like crazy, and you realized that you had no control over your feelings, and this was very dangerous, especially in your line of work. You needed to calm yourself down, and you needed to do it fast.

Hours later, everything was quiet. Leon was nowhere to be seen, because you didn’t notice when he went missing in the first place, and you couldn't care less about him. It was obviously a stupid idea to try to get back to the hotel, knowing it would be heavily secured after what happened earlier. But, somehow, you felt something very wrong.

The gunshot noises out there were exactly what you didn’t want to hear. You heard screams and loud voices, and immediately, your hand fell to your gun. You heard footsteps, and by the sound, you knew this person was supporting his body weight on his left leg, and was limping heavily. When you were about to attack, it was him.

“What the hell?” you gasped in shock, seeing him limping and, of course, injured.

“I tried to get our comms back” he whimpered almost quietly, as you helped him sit down. He was breathing heavily, his hand pressing tightly on his ribs. “But, as you can see, it didn’t go well.”

“And you say I'm reckless, right?” you muttered, trying to see the size of the damage on him, although he whined again. “You could've died in there, asshole”

“Now I understand why you do things this way,” Leon chuckles, but then he groans in pain, his grip on his ribs getting tight. “It’s way more fun”

“Fun? Are you out of your mind, Kennedy?” you snapped at him. If Leon wasn’t injured at the moment, you would definitely beat the living shit out of him. “I don’t do things like that for fun!”

“Keep your voice down, sweetheart. I don’t want to get back home inside a coffin,” Leon said, as he pressed his hand on your mouth to keep you quiet. In the sudden silence, you were able to hear more footsteps, and Leon kept pressing his hand on your mouth. A few minutes later, everything went silent again.

“I’m not… okay” he mutters, and his eyes meet yours. Blue like the ocean. And then, you finally see the blood spot on his shirt — the same spot he was trying to hide from you. “I’m sorry”

“I swear to God, if you dare to die on me, I’ll personally kill you, Kennedy,” you replied, and then you started to press his wound to prevent him from bleeding to a certain death.

But he smiled. It was a faint smile, but he was really smiling at you. You saw him raise his hand, and he touched your hair, moving the strands that fell on your face. The way he was looking at you, so sad and weak, it was like he was saying goodbye.

“You look so... beautiful.” His voice seems weak, and his breath starts to become more shallow. “I guess… this is what angels look like”

“C’mon, Leon, don’t you dare die on me,” you said as you noticed yourself getting more anxious by the second.

He smiled again and kept looking at you with those beautiful blue eyes. Slowly, he started to close his eyes, and his breath got more shallow, indicating he was losing consciousness. The more you tried to keep him awake, the more he seemed lost. You were slowly losing him.

“Condor One! Condor Two,” someone called you two. It was your squad.

“We’re here” you shouted at them, your hands filled with Leon’s blood as you waved at your squad. “He’s injured and losing a lot of blood”

“Don’t worry, we’re taking you two,” the leader said as the team approached you with medical equipment.

You couldn’t describe the stress you felt with everything that happened in the meantime. Did you two succeed in the mission? Was it over? You couldn’t know. Not until you were sure Leon was safe and sound.

From the helicopter, you could see the sirens, the local police, and the agents from the government. It was almost unbelievable, but it was true. The operation was a success, after all. You glanced at Leon. He was sleeping, or at least he seemed to be.

You tried to rest, but it seemed unreachable. Your body was electric, filled with constant energy that prevented you from closing your eyes. You wanted to sleep badly, but your concern about him was enough to keep you awake. When the helicopter finally landed at the hospital heliport, Leon was immediately taken into surgery. As for you, you had no other option but to wait.

Hours later, you had no news about him, and the anxiety was eating you alive from the inside. At this point, your body was less tense than before, and the first signs of stress and tiredness were finally showing up. You were sitting in a chair, in an empty white hallway, waiting. The hours seemed to slip through your fingers, slowly.

You sighted a kid playing with a purple teddy bear, and for a moment, you started to wonder about the life you led. The choices you made and how you ended up in your job. It was weird to think that while other people had normal lives, you had to risk yours every day, to make sure they would live in a safe world.

It sounded selfish to think like that, but you had every reason to do so since you couldn’t have a normal life. That word didn’t exist in your dictionary. Nor in your days.

Then, you see yourself playing with Leon’s mother's ring on your finger. For a brief moment, you imagined how your life would be if you were married and raising kids. Then, you push away these thoughts; motherhood isn’t your style, not even a married life.

“Ms. Kennedy?” you hear the doctor call you, and the sound of Leon’s surname addressed to you like you were his real wife makes your heart ache.

“Is he okay?” Your voice sounded more hoarse than you thought it would, a small consequence of being silent for so long. The look on the doctor’s face said there wasn’t good news.

“Your husband has lost a lot of blood, but we managed to stop the bleeding, and the surgery went well. Our main concern is with his brain injury…” The doctor pauses for a brief moment, wondering how to tell you the next news. “But, unfortunately, he’s in a coma.”

The news came at you like a violent wave. Suddenly, the world around you stopped, and you couldn't hear anything else. Your eyes were wide open, your chest was burning and aching, and for some stupid reason, you didn’t want to believe those words. How could Leon be in a coma? It was your thing to play reckless, he had no right to leave you like this.

You saw the doctor talking to you, but you couldn’t hear anything; everything around you was running slowly. What the hell was he saying? His lips moved slowly, just like the rest of the entire world, but you managed to understand: he was asking you if you were okay or if you needed something.

You felt like you were drowning, unable to reach the surface, surrounded by darkness. You wanted to scream and cry, but you couldn’t. You felt trapped by an invisible force, holding you tight and keeping you shut.

It was the sight of Chris that made you turn back to reality, and finally, the scream that was trapped in your throat came out from the core of your lungs.

“It’s okay, I got you,” Redfield said quickly as he held you before you fell to the ground. Your legs were shaking just like the rest of your body. “It’s okay”

“It was my fault, Chris.” Your voice was muffled by desperate chokes and sobs. “He’s in a coma, and it’s my fault”

“It’s not your fault, okay? It could’ve happened to you or him. Leon knows what he does, and I’m sure he did that to protect you" Chris tries his best to comfort you, although it seems impossible at the moment. He still holds you tight, for which you are very grateful, because you know you’ll fall if he lets you go.

Leon had no one in his life. You knew that the moment he told you about the ring. The “family” he had consisted of Chris and Claire, Jill, and Rebecca. You had no room for this. Leon made that pretty clear years ago, but now everything is different. You had to tell everyone what went wrong, how he got injured, and why it ended like that. You had to describe the entire mission, you had to remember everything. Now you were sitting again, with Claire holding your hand, while Jill and Chris were talking with Rebecca. Your eyes were locked on your hands, still stained with his blood. You were completely shocked, with no reaction or words.

“He’ll wake up, I know he will,” Claire whispers as a way to comfort you and give you kind words.

“He said he loves me,” you managed to say, although you doubted Claire would hear it. You wanted to hold onto something real, that would help you deal with what was happening.

“He always did, I’m glad he finally told you that,” Claire said, and you were a little surprised she heard you. More surprised to hear something you thought would never exist.

“But I don’t think that’s true. He always hated me.” You finally look at her, your eyes seeing something different from the dried blood in your hands.

“Do you think Leon is capable of hating you? He’s so in love with you, he can’t even hide it,” Claire said, and then she smiled largely while holding your hands.

But you find it hard to believe those words. Your mind was conflicted between what Claire was saying and what Leon said before he fainted. You wanted desperately to believe it, but deep down, you weren't sure. You finally received authorization to see him, with the benefit of being his “wife” and a government agent, but when you stepped inside his room, seeing all those loud machines around his body and a giant bandage on his ribs, his clothes were perfectly folded in the chair. His skin was pale and cold to the touch. He was almost lifeless, and seeing him like that made you sob again.

“I’m sorry… I never wanted to see you hurt,” you muttered, hoping he would hear it. You held his hand, praying he would wake up. “If you can hear me, then come back to us... I miss you fighting with me”

But there was nothing — not even a small squeeze on your hand. You were trying to convince yourself that he heard you and that he was coming back to you, and that was the lie you were desperately trying to believe. How silly you were. How desperate and pathetic you felt. It could be days, weeks, months, or years, how could you possibly predict when he would wake up? It was up to him.

“You won’t get rid of me that easily, Kennedy,” you said last, as a single tear fell from your eye. You wanted to be brave for him.

And as an answer, he squeezed your hand weakly.

Three months later.

“Goddammit, this hurts!” Leon groaned angrily at you when you tried to remove the bandage from his ribs to clean it.

“Stop moving, asshole,” you said back, glancing at him and then rolling your eyes. “Then it won’t hurt”

“You’re so fucking gentle,” he muttered, taking a deep breath. You waited until he stopped moving so you could change the bandage.

“Hey, I’m not the one with open wounds,” you teased him, then finished removing the bandage, being extra careful with the stitches on his skin.

“How does it look?” Leon asks with a soft voice. You noticed that he never actually looked at the wound.

“Terrible, but healing,” you smiled kindly at him, cleaning around the wound with the antiseptic and the wet cotton. You saw his skin chilling, and soft groans coming from his mouth.

Leon hated seeing his scars. He hated having them; he hated knowing what caused them, which was why he barely sees himself in the mirror; he avoids his own image. One month ago, Leon woke up from his coma, and although he was very confused, at first, due to his brain injury, he had no memories of the mission or what happened before he got hurt. Chris had to explain everything to him like he was a toddler learning how to communicate.

“So… that was it,” Chris tells him, after explaining why he was in a hospital bed with a huge wound on his ribs.

“Shit… I’m tired,” Leon muttered, closing his eyes for a moment and trying to relax his beaten-up body on the bed. “Two months?”

“Yep. You slept like a baby,” Chris chuckled, making fun of the situation to lighten up his mood.

“Where is…” Leon started, as it seems pretty obvious that you weren’t there with Chris.

“Oh…” The smile on Chris’s lips disappeared slowly, and he became more serious, sitting more appropriately on the chair. “Well, um…”

For some unknown reason, Leon was anxious. He didn’t know why, but he felt eager to know why you weren’t there with him; he was sure he heard you say you missed him fighting with you, but at this point, he wasn’t sure if it was a dream or reality. And the way Chris kept looking at him made his heart beat ten thousand times faster. When Chris was about to tell Leon about you, someone knocked on the door, and when the person came inside, Leon felt disappointed to see it was a nurse with his medication.

“Mr. Redfield, you’ll have to leave now. The visiting hour ended a few minutes ago, and the patient needs to rest,” the nurse says, leaving the tray with Leon’s medication on his bedside table. Leon sighed, glancing at the window, while he laid his head on his pillow to rest.

“Before I go… I want you to have this,” Chris said, getting closer to his bed with something in his hand. Leon glanced back, curious. When Chris opened his hand, Leon saw his mother’s ring, and he felt sad. “You know, she was here with you the entire time”

“Then why is she not here now?” Leon asks, holding the ring in his hand and avoiding Chris’s gaze.

“Give time to time,” Redfield said before leaving his room.

Leon hated being in the hospital with different wires connected to his body. Nurses checked on him constantly, asking a lot of questions, taking him through thousands of exams to see if he was doing better or worse, and doing physiotherapy. They said the brain injury had damaged his body, and, besides the wound on his ribs, Leon had broken his arm and would have a disability in walking and doing normal things. Of course, with the proper therapy, he would walk again and have a normal life, but he needed to cooperate.

Leon had already convinced himself you didn’t care, but on the third week after he woke up, he was taken into another exam. One hour later, when he came back to his room, he found you asleep on the chair, wrapped around your jumper, seeming tired to the bones. The nurse helped him lay back on his bed, and he remained silent, just watching you sleep. He wanted to keep every detail about you, even the small ones. Suddenly, you moved on the chair and woke up, yawning. Nothing he had rehearsed in his head prepared him for this moment.

He had given up on hope, he thought you would never see him again. Maybe you had found another partner, or maybe you had moved on with your life. Perhaps you just didn’t care about him. Maybe and more maybe…

"Hey,” you said, noticing he was too shocked to even pronounce a word. “How are you?”

“Fine, I guess,” he managed to say, and he wanted to punch himself because he sounded very rude. “That’s not what I meant…”

But, to his surprise, you just smiled. Chris told you about his amnesia, he told you that Leon wouldn’t be able to walk for a long time because of the damage to his brain from the injury. You were hoping he didn’t remember what happened before he fainted that day. It would be easier for both of you.

“I came here because Chris told me you woke up, I wasn’t in the country, so…” you said, feeling your cheeks blush a little. He nodded quietly, and the expression on his face told you he was sad. “I had to finish our last mission. Do you remember anything?”

“Not so much, everything is a little messed up, and every time I try to remember something, my head hurts,” he says, taking a deep breath and laying his head on the pillow again. “I remember me in front of your apartment telling you about our mission; I remember giving you my mother’s ring; and the fight we had at the airport… I remember a few things from the hotel we were at, but nothing more… Sometimes I have a few flashbacks. I remember getting hurt trying to get our comms back, breaking my arm, but..."

“It’s okay, don’t force yourself. You know you’ll remember eventually,” you said to him, trying to give some comfort. “You’re alive and recovering, that’s all that matters now, Leon”

“It sucks being here… I want to go home, but people keep telling me I’m better here and that medical bullshit,” he sighs, then he looks outside his window again.

“About that… I’m here to offer something,” you said to him, already thinking it would be a terrible idea.

“What would that be?” he asks you, raising both of his eyebrows in a slightly curious tone.

“Come live with me…” you simply said, shaking both of your shoulders like it was the most normal thing in the world. “Until you recover, of course”

At first, having him live with you proved to be a difficult task, mostly because Leon thought he was a burden and strongly avoided his appointments. In his head, he could treat himself alone, he could take care of his wounds and do the chores in the house. However, he could barely leave the bed, and he complained every time you tried to convince him to attend his appointments. Even Chris tried to coax him into getting out of the house, but Leon refused like a pampered kid. It was very difficult.

“You know I can’t do everything on my own, right?” you asked him after finishing changing and cleaning the wound on his rib.

“I know, but… I’m sorry,” he says with a deep sigh, looking at you with guilt. “I know I’m making this more difficult than it should be…”

“It’s not your fault, but I really need you to understand that sometimes even the toughest agent needs help. You can’t avoid medical care forever, Leon,” you said, looking straight into his eyes.

“I’m an asshole, right?” He managed to smile a little, then he looked at you. “I never thanked you for taking care of me”

“What can I say? You didn’t make things easier, either.” You smiled at him, looking into his blue eyes.

“I have something I need to tell you,” Leon whispers, then bites his lower lip and avoids your eyes.

“Shoot me”

“I… remember what happened… before the coma. I remember the mission,” he says, finally taking the courage to look into your eyes. You decided to stay calm, but not cold. “I was scared, I never thought I would almost die… but then you were there with me, and I felt at peace”

“Why did you give me your mother’s ring?” you decided to ask. You needed to understand.

“Because it was personal, I wanted you to have something personal from me… I knew one day I would come close to death trying to get your ass out of danger, and I thought you would feel better having something mine,” he explained, and then, everything made sense. He truly cared about you.

“You’re such a fucking idiot, Kennedy.” You smiled at him, then you laughed.

“Hey… what’s wrong? Are you okay?” you asked after knocking on his door. He glanced at you, his eyes swollen after crying for God knows how long.

This entire month that you took care of him was enough to learn how to read him. Before, he was pure mystery — the person who hated you the most. Now you know when he’s happy, angry, or uncomfortable. You know how to decipher him, read his face, and understand how he feels.

Leon still sleeps in the guest’s room, but sometimes you can hear him wince and cry, and sometimes you can hear him sobbing. You woke up to the sound of him crying and decided to finally ask. You had been wondering for weeks, thinking he wouldn’t talk about this subject. But you needed to try it, anyway.

“I… it’s nothing, I’m okay,” he said, quickly wiping the tears from his eyes.

“C’mon, you can talk to me. We’re friends now,” you say again, sitting on the edge of his bed and smiling.

“It’s just a silly nightmare…” Leon whispers softly, looking at his arm plaster. You had signed your name on it, followed by Chris, Claire, Jill, and Rebecca. “It’s Raccoon City. The same night over and over again”

“You were there? I’m surprised,” you said to him, and he smirked slightly.

“I was a rookie cop, late as hell on my first day. I had recently graduated from the Police Academy,” Leon explains, gazing at the ceiling, then at you again. “I survived that night, met Claire, saved Sherry… then, they forced me to work for them, and here I am”

“Forced? What do you mean?” You raised your eyebrows, confused.

“It was a deal I made to keep Sherry safe… I never told this to anyone,” Leon whispers, and you imagine how cruel it was for him to be forced to work all those years for the government. “How about you? How did you end up being an agent?”

“Before the government, I was in the army. Special Forces. I worked with Task 141 across the earth, until I decided to leave before things went to shit” you tell Leon, which makes him glance at you completely surprised. “I miss my buddies Price, Roach, Soap, and Ghost”

“It’s so weird to think how our lives were different… I was forced to join the government, you decided to do it for yourself…” Leon whispers, analyzing his own choices in life. “Now I can truly understand why you work the way you do…”

“I made a lot of bad choices, I’ll admit that. But after everything I did in the past… you actually get used to your own method of working,” you say to him, hugging your legs. “Maybe that’s why I do things the way I do. I like the adrenaline and danger that come with it”

“I’m sorry for calling you reckless,” Leon said after a brief moment of silence.

“That’s okay, trust me. I've heard worse things before,” you chuckled.

Leon seemed more calm, although his eyes were still red and swollen. You heard the first drops of rain hitting his window, and the noise of the lightning outside announced the rain. For a moment, there was only silence between the two of you.

“I hate this stupid arm plaster,” Leon suddenly says, and then you laugh.

“But there are our names signed on it. And I made a drawing when you were asleep” You showed him the drawing you made. It was a cat and a few flowers.

“Flowers? Really?” Leon frowned, glancing at you.

His last appointment provided good news. His ribs seemed to be healing, and soon he would be able to remove the arm plaster. After the appointment, you drove Leon to his physiotherapy session, and for the first time after he woke up from the coma, he finally decided to cooperate with himself. For some unknown reason, he wasn’t grumpy today.

“What? They’re cute!” you protested while laughing at his reaction. “But I’m serious, you need to sleep now. Tomorrow you have that physiotherapy session and an appointment”

“Well, if you keep doing home exercises, soon you’ll be fully recovered,” the doctor tells him, sitting in front of you two.

“Home exercises?” Leon asks, looking briefly at you, knowing you would definitely force him to do his exercises.

“Yes. It’ll help ease the pain and help with your mobility.” She nods, noting something on the paper. “And, most important, you can’t avoid your appointments, Mr. Kennedy”

“Yeah… I’ll keep coming,” he said, his entire face red as a tomato.

When you drove him back home, he certainly wasn’t expecting a surprise from your little family. Claire, Rebecca and Jill decorated your entire apartment, while Chris went to buy food and drinks. Because of the thousands of pills he was taking, Leon wasn’t allowed to drink any alcohol, which you gladly thanked him for. He was better sober than drunk.

The smile on his lips and the way his eyes were shining were more than he could put into words. You noticed that Claire even bought party letter decorations that were hanging from your ceiling, with the sentence ‘Happy Birthday, Leon’ in blue and yellow.

“Come on, you guys gotta be kidding me” he laughs with happiness, hugging everyone carefully.

“What? You really thought we would forget your birthday, golden boy?” you tease him, drinking soda and giving him one cup.

“This is… amazing” Leon seemed lost in his own words. “I don’t deserve you guys”

After singing him the birthday song, you guys celebrated his birthday with those blue birthday hats and a special cake the girls baked for him. Chris was talking to him, while you and Rebecca were chatting about types of coffee. Jill and Claire seemed to be very focused on their own conversation about TerraSave.

“Guys… I wanted to thank everyone. I know sometimes I’m a pain in the ass, but after everything that happened to me in the past three months, I have a lot to thank for… especially you.” Leon glances at you with shyness. “You took me into your home, took care of me, and had to hear every stupid joke I made, even my grumpy humor”

“That was the hard part, believe me,” you say, winking at him, which makes everyone laugh.

“I know. I was a jerk, and we had a lot of arguments with each other, but recently I found out that…” he paused for a moment, certainly thinking about what to say. “Life can be shitty sometimes, and bad things can happen to us… and this last mission made me see things I thought would never happen to me. I nearly died, but I got a second chance, and I don’t intend to waste it”

You knew exactly what he was talking about. Living with him for the past three months proved to be an interesting task. You knew him, and that was enough. Hours later, it was only you and him, sitting on your couch as the rain struck against the window. The fireplace gives off a warm temperature inside the living room, and, despite the silence, you two are more connected than before.

“I must say, there’s one thing I’m sure won't change,” Leon laughs, looking at his hands, after a long time of silence. “Being almost killed truly made me see things…”

“Such as?” You lifted your head to look at him.

“First, I actually never asked to be reassigned to another partner. I only told you that because I wanted to see how you would react” he said, looking at you. “And…”

“What's the second?” You laugh at his confession, mostly because you knew that a long time ago.

“The second is… I really hate the way that I love you”

[oldsoul007]

taste

nicholas chavez x ex!reader

a/n: no disrespect to either of them or relationship all of this is just fiction!

Nicholas and y/n had a special connection when they dated. Their time together was filled with laughter, shared secrets, and memorable moments. However, as life moved on, they drifted apart, and Nicholas eventually found himself in a new relationship with a girl named Victoria.

Victoria is wonderful—kind, smart, and everything Nicholas could ask for in a girlfriend. Yet, despite his happiness with her, y/n is always in the back of his mind. He often finds himself reminiscing about the times he spent with y/n, the unique bond they shared, and the way she understood him like no one else.

Even though Nicholas tries to focus on his present with Victoria, there are moments when a song, a place, or a random memory brings y/n back to the forefront of his thoughts. He wonders how she's doing, if she thinks about him too, and whether their paths will cross again. This lingering presence of y/n in his mind makes him question if he ever truly moved on, or if a part of him will always belong to her.

Nicholas and Victoria were out for a casual stroll one Saturday afternoon when they unexpectedly ran into y/n. The encounter took Nicholas by surprise, and he felt his heart skip a beat. Y/n looked as beautiful and confident as ever, and seeing her brought a rush of memories flooding back.

"Hey, y/n. It's been a while. How have you been?" Nicholas asked, trying to keep his composure.

"I've been good. Just busy with work and everything. How about you?" Y/n replied with a warm smile.

"I've been alright. This is Victoria, by the way. Victoria, this is y/n," Nicholas introduced them, his voice slightly shaky.

"Nice to meet you, y/n!" Victoria said cheerfully.

"Nice to meet you too, Victoria. So, what have you been up to, Nicholas?" Y/n asked, her eyes lingering on him.

"Oh, you know, just the usual. Work's been keeping me busy. It's really good to see you, though," Nicholas responded, feeling a mix of emotions.

"Yeah, it's good to see you too. You look well," y/n said, her smile softening.

"Thanks. You too," Nicholas managed to say, his mind racing.

Victoria, sensing the tension, chimed in, "We should catch up sometime, all of us. It would be fun."

"Sure, that sounds nice," y/n agreed. "Well, I should get going. It was great running into you both."

"Yeah, take care, y/n," Nicholas said, watching her walk away.

As y/n disappeared into the crowd, Nicholas couldn't help but feel a pang of longing. He realized that his feelings for her were still very much alive, leaving him deep in thought about what to do next.

Victoria and Nicholas had been having a wonderful evening at home when the topic of y/n came up. It started innocently enough, with Nicholas mentioning their recent encounter.

"You know, it was really nice seeing y/n the other day," Nicholas said, trying to keep his tone casual.

Victoria's expression changed slightly. "Yeah, it was. But, Nicholas, I've noticed you talk about her a lot lately."

Nicholas looked puzzled. "What do you mean? She's just an old friend."

"Is she really just an old friend?" Victoria asked, her voice growing more tense. "Because it feels like there's more to it."

Nicholas sighed. "Victoria, you're overthinking this. Y/n and I have history, but that's all in the past. You're the one I'm with now."

Victoria shook her head. "I don't know, Nicholas. It just feels like there's something unresolved between you two. And it bothers me."

Nicholas's frustration began to show. "What do you want me to do, Victoria? I can't erase my past. Y/n is a part of it, but she doesn't have to be a threat to us."

"I just need to know that you're fully committed to us," Victoria said, her eyes pleading.

"I am committed to us," Nicholas said firmly. "But I can't change the fact that y/n was a big part of my life. You have to trust me."

Victoria looked away, tears welling up in her eyes. "It's hard to trust when I see how you look at her."

Nicholas softened, stepping closer to her. "Victoria, I love you. I'll do whatever it takes to make you feel secure. But you have to believe me when I say that y/n is just a friend now."

Victoria nodded slowly, wiping her tears. "Okay, Nicholas. I believe you. But let's not talk about y/n anymore. Let's focus on us."

"Agreed," Nicholas said, pulling her into a hug. "Let's focus on us."

As they held each other, Nicholas hoped that this would be the end of the tension between them. He knew he had to prove his commitment to Victoria and make sure she felt secure in their relationship.

Nicholas and Victoria were at the local bar when they unexpectedly bumped into y/n again. It was a moment of surprise for all three, but Victoria's reaction was different. As she watched Nicholas and y/n exchange warm smiles and familiar glances, something clicked in her mind. She realized that the connection between Nicholas and y/n was deeper than she had ever imagined. It was in that instant that Victoria understood the true nature of their bond, and a mix of emotions washed over her, leaving her both intrigued and contemplative about what this meant for their future.

Nicholas and Victoria were sitting in their living room when the tension that had been building up finally reached a boiling point. The topic of y/n had come up once again, and it was clear that Victoria was not happy about it.

"Nicholas, I can't believe you're still hung up on her," Victoria said, frustration evident in her voice. "Every time we run into y/n, you act like she's the only person in the room."

Nicholas sighed, rubbing his temples. "Victoria, it's not like that. Y/n and I have a history, yes, but it doesn't mean I'm still in love with her. We're just friends now."

"Friends? Really?" Victoria shot back. "Because it sure doesn't seem that way. You get this look in your eyes whenever she's around, like you're remembering something more than just a friendship."

"That's not fair," Nicholas replied, his voice rising. "I can't control how I feel. But I'm with you now, and that's what matters."

"But is it really?" Victoria asked, her eyes filling with tears. "Because it feels like I'm always competing with her ghost. I need to know that you're fully here with me, not just physically but emotionally too."

Nicholas took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. "Victoria, I care about you a lot. I don't want you to feel like you're second to anyone. I'm sorry if I've made you feel that way."

Victoria looked at him, her expression softening slightly. "I just need to know that I can trust you, Nicholas. That you're not going to run back to her the moment things get tough between us."

"I promise you, Victoria," Nicholas said, taking her hand. "I'm committed to us. I'll do whatever it takes to prove that to you."

As they sat there, holding each other's hands, they both realized that this was a turning point in their relationship. They had to work through these issues if they wanted to move forward together.

Nicholas had been feeling increasingly guilty about his relationship with Victoria. He knew deep down that he couldn't continue pretending everything was fine. One evening, he finally mustered the courage to talk to her.

"Victoria, we need to talk," Nicholas began, his voice heavy with emotion. "I can't keep doing this. It's not fair to you or to me. I still have feelings for y/n, and it's not right to lead you on."

Victoria looked at him, her eyes filled with a mix of hurt and understanding. "I knew this was coming, Nicholas. I just hoped things would change."

"I'm so sorry," Nicholas said, his heart breaking at the sight of her tears. "You deserve someone who can give you their whole heart, and I can't do that right now."

After the difficult conversation, Nicholas felt a weight lift off his shoulders, but he was also filled with a sense of loss. He decided to reach out to y/n, needing someone to talk to.

"Y/n, I ended things with Victoria," he confessed over the phone. "I couldn't keep pretending. But now, I feel so lost."

Y/n’s voice was gentle but firm. "Nicholas, I still love you, but we can't be together. Not right now. You need to figure things out for yourself first."

Nicholas sighed, feeling the sting of her words. "I understand, y/n. I just needed to hear your voice."

They both knew that this was a time for healing and self-discovery. Even though they couldn't be together, their connection remained a source of comfort and strength for Nicholas.

[nerdy-novelist017]

SFW Alphabet (Benny Cross x Shy!Reader)

First time making one of these and this was so much fun! I took a bit of creative liberty in order to dive into Benny's past a bit so I hope it doesn't feel OOC. Please let me know if you love it! This is paired with my Benny x Bunny series! 🐰

This is so Work Song by Hozier coded and I will NOT be apologizing for it ;)

A= Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Benny shows affection through acts of service. He wants to take care of you so he's always doing things to help you out. Your car is making a rattling noise? He'll take a look at it. Your feet are sore from walking around in your heels all day? He'll carry you on his back the rest of the way. You try to carry something heavy? Not on his watch. A customer at work was rude to you? Consider it handled. He has your back in everything.

B= Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start)

You are his absolute best friend. Benny doesn't have many friends and he doesn't make them easily. When Benny loves, he loves fiercely. His friends are his family and he'd kill for them.

C= Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Benny ALWAYS has a hand on you. Whether it's just a hand on your thigh if you're sitting beside him or an arm slung around your shoulders or his hands wrapped around your waist if you're standing in front of him, he's always touching you somehow. There's a few reasons he does this: he likes having you nearby in case some trouble starts and he can protect you. He wants to show everyone nearby that you are his and only his. But most importantly, he likes having you there to ground him. You're his anchor when he feels himself losing control of his anger.

D= Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Benny is not much help when it comes to cooking and cleaning. In fact, he does more harm than good when the stove is involved. You almost always end up having to shoo him away, telling him to go mow the lawn or fix the leaky pipe in the bathroom. Sometimes though, he likes to lean against the fridge and keep you company while you bake, totally enamored by how beautiful you are when you concentrate on things you love doing.

E= Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

You are Benny's whole world, but that doesn't mean he is immune to doubts. Not about you, never about you. They're about himself. He gets in his own head and those poisonous thoughts of feeling inferior and ignominious run wild. Sometimes he wonders why you're even with him. He's not good enough for you, how could he be? You're so perfect and sweet and pure and he's . . . so corrupted, so rough.

You're always so quick to correct him when he voices these thoughts, telling him that you love him and that means all of him, including vices, bad habits and flaws.

F= Fiance (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Are we kidding? Benny knew he wanted to marry you after only spending a few hours in your presence. He's so whipped, so drunk on love that he goes out and buys a ring the very next day.

G= Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Looking at someone like Benny with his tattoos and leather jacket and loud motorcycle, most people wouldn't assume he could be gentle. Benny didn't even know he could love someone to the point of changing for them until he met you. He thought he was a lost cause, a destitute brawler who nobody could love - hell, his own family didn't even love him.

But you did somehow, and Benny doesn't know if he should laugh or cry at that. He'd never, never expected to be blessed with someone as kind and supportive as you in his life and for that, he'd do anything for. He'd touch you gently, hands exploring your curves at night. He'd whisper softly into your ear as you nodded off into dreamland beside him. And he knew that's what you needed, so he'd provide it in any aspect he could, private or public. He didn't care if the guys teased him about it either.

H= Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it and what is it like?)

Any excuse to touch you is how he works! He loves feeling your slight figure tucked so completely against his own. You're the perfect height for him to rest his chin on the top of your head, your face pressed against his broad chest, his hands locking together around your waist. It's like you were a lock and he was the key - molded together perfectly.

I= I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

The L-word is very foreign to Benny. He didn't hear it much when he was growing up and he's said it to others even less. In fact, he's never told a girl that he loved them, so for him to be that vulnerable with you is a huge deal.

Those life-changing three words would probably just come out of him before he even realized it himself. It would be after he had a bad day, problems with the club and new members becoming more antagonizing. He'd park his bike out front, anger disappearing the moment he catches sight of you in the front yard, on your hands and knees, an assortment of small unplanted plants surrounding you.

He cuts the engine and approaches you, warmth spreading in his chest at the oversized sunhat you wear. You glance up at him and smile.

"Remember that butterfly I was telling you about yesterday?" you ask when he stands over you. "Well, I was reading up on them and I guess they really love these flowers. So I'm planting them for him. I hope he comes back and appreciates it."

And how can Benny's heart not melt at that? You were so damn cute and the way you viewed the world was unlike anything he'd ever known.

"I love you," he whispered, heart suddenly pounding at the recognition.

Your mouth falls open and you sit up a little straighter before smiling broadly at him. "Oh."

J= Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they get jealous?)

Oh boy, Benny is a force to reckon with when he gets jealous. It doesn't happen often, surprising to say, but when it does . . . it's bad. He deals with his jealousy with his fists, much like how he deals with all other negative emotions. He's having a bad day already and someone at the bar tries grabbing your ass? Oh goodbye. He's dragging that man out the backdoor and going to teach him a lesson about touching what's his.

K= Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Kisses with Benny are so intense. He kisses you like it's the last time he'll ever see you. And for all he knows, it could be. He lives a dangerous life and anything could happen to him. So he kisses you like he needs you to breathe. And he also loves to see your lips all swollen afterwards.

L= Little ones (How are they around children?)

Benny came from a rough home and his childhood was very unpleasant, so the last thing on his mind is children. But that can be changed, he's very easily influenced by you. All you have to do is give him puppy eyes and the soft pouty-lip look and he'd consider just about anything.

M= Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

It's rare that Benny is still there when you wake up in the morning. He has a lot of trouble sleeping and usually ends up getting up early, leaving you to sleep as long as you can. You'll usually find him in the kitchen, already made a pot of coffee for you to wake up to.

But on those mornings when he does sleep in and you wake up to find his warm body tangled with yours? Those are the best. That's when you get that sweet side of Benny that nobody else is privy to. He'll run his thumb over your cheek, the early morning sunlight casting a beautiful glow over his face as his blue eyes roam over your face. He'll lean in, slowly peppering you with the softest kisses, one for your nose, one for your forehead, one for each of you cheeks, and the last one reserved for you lips.

N= Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Nights spent with Benny Cross are anything but ordinary. That's one of the things you love most about him, the spontaneity. You could be getting ready for bed and he'd come to you asking if you want to take a ride with him. Of course you say yes because every ride with him is an adventure. And you might just be driving around the city, under the streetlights or he might take you out into the country to look at the stars. Either way, he wants to make the most of it so he will always bring an extra jacket for you to stay out as long as possible.

O= Open (When will they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or do they reveal little things slowly?)

Being vulnerable is very difficult for Benny. He wants to, believe him, but every negative memory he has beats down on him daily, so it will take a long time before he feels comfortable letting down his guard and breaking the toxic cycle that his parents burned into him. Your smile helps, your kind eyes, your petite hands squeezing his encouragingly.

P= Patience (How easily are they angered?)

Remember how he fights at the drop of a hat and his anger is easily triggered? Well, that doesn't apply to you. No, you rarely ever test his patience. The very few times you do, it's most likely because you're doing something that he thinks is too dangerous and you argue back because you don't like when he acts controlling. One thing leads to another and the more calm he remains, the more riled up you become so you end up being petty or bratty. Then, his patience is strained and he'll usually put his foot down and flat out refuse to cooperate with you anymore.

That usually leads to him receiving the silent treatment for a few hours, but you both usually make up before bed.

Q= Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every detail or forget the minor things?)

Benny has a lock-trap memory when it comes to something he actually cares about. In school, he struggled to do well on tests about subjects he found boring like math and English. But history and science, he excelled in.

If knowing you was a subject in school, he'd be valedictorian. He remembers everything you tell him, bringing it up in moments that shock you. He may not always seem like he's listening, but he is. He knows your schedule, your work drama, your favorite sweater. He makes mental notes of the way you like your coffee, what song gets you to dance in the kitchen while you cook, and what side of the sink you leave your stuff on. He loves the small details like how your laugh sounds different when it's just you and him and the way your face lights up when you see your favorite flowers. It's all very important to him.

R= Remember (What is their favorite moment of your relationship?)

A day he thinks about a lot - especially when he's not in a good mood - is when you first moved in together and you wanted to bake him something to christen the kitchen. He leaned against the doorway, arms crossed casually as you put on your apron and gathered the ingredients. You shot him a cheeky grin as you went to the record player, picking out an album that made your hips sway with the rhythm. He was perfectly content to stand there admiring, but you always had to involve him in some way or another so you tugged his arms gently, pulling him to the center of the kitchen and the two of you danced slowly, his hands pressed against the small of your back and yours wrapped around the back of his neck, foreheads touching.

He thinks about that night often, feeling so grateful that you chose him to spend the rest of your life with.

S= Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? how would they like to be protected?)

As you already know, Benny would die to protect you just as easily as he'd kill for you. You'd never need to worry about anything happening while he's there. He doesn't get intimidated by much and is always ready to throw a fist if someone threatened you. He's the definition of scary boyfriend privileges.

T= Try (How much effort do they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

He thinks it's important for him to put a lot of consideration for you during your every day life, not just special occasions. You're always going out of your way to do something kind for others (even strangers) and he wants you to know that you deserve the same level of effort you provide.

He's not so great at remembering the dates and anniversaries, he's often times so busy that he doesn't know what day it is anyway so don't feel bad. But the dates he takes you on? Those are magical. He finds places that remind him of you and he points out details he thinks you'd like.

U= Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Benny and bad habits? That pairs like milk and cookies. Smoking, boarder line alcohol abuse, not getting enough sleep, fighting . . . the list goes on. But Johnny tells you that he sees a huge improvement since Benny's gotten together with you and you can't help but blush at that.

V= Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

He isn't one to care much what other people think of him. He barely holds himself in high regards, why should it bother him if someone else does? He's used to getting the occasional glare shot at him by the pansies standing on their lawns as he rolls through the neighborhood on his Harley.

W= Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Benny used to be independent, even a little detached. But that all changed when he met you. You changed everything for him. He no longer had to go through life alone because you were there with your sweet smile and comforting words. You became the most important thing in his life. His world revolves around you.

X= Xtra )A random headcanon for them)

Benny came home one day to find you and a couple of your friends making jewelry. Friendship bracelets, you had informed him with a smile on your face. He just nodded, kissed the top of your head and continued on his way out the back door to hide in the garage.

The next day you had presented him with a tiny box all wrapped up in a pink bow, a brilliant smile to go with it. You told him it was special and just for him. He opened it carefully and his heart melted at the object inside. It was a bracelet, made with various shades of pink and white rope, a small B charm woven into the center, a bunny next to it. It was . . . one of the ugliest things he's ever seen, but he adored you so he told you he loved it. You practically bounced up and down with excitement as you helped him put it on.

The absolute razzing he took from the boys when he showed up with his bright pink friendship bracelet showing proudly on his wrist was worth it. He'd never take it off.

Y= Yuck (What are some things they wouldn't like, either in general or in a partner?)

There isn't much that you could do that Benny wouldn't like. Except when you do things that puts you in harms way like running to the store late at night without him or leaving the door unlocked when you're home alone. He sees it as unnecessary risk and he's tried talking to you many times about it.

Z= Zzz (What are some sleeping habits of theirs?

Benny has trouble sleeping, always has. Most of the time, you're asleep before he gets home despite your best efforts at trying to stay awake to greet him. He often finds you asleep on the couch, book forgotten in your lap. He'll carry you to bed, and crawl into it behind you. You snuggle up against him, muttering something incoherent and sighing contently before falling back to sleep and Benny felt a tenderness in his chest as he pulled you closer, wrapping the blankets over both of you.

-Tag List-

@imusicaddict @elizabeth916 @jaiuneamesolitaiire @dudii4love @ironmooncat @beebeechaos @astrogrande @pearlparty @themorriganisamonster @sillylittlethrowaway @ughdontbeboring @penwieldingdreamer @charmingballoon @eugene-emt-roe @sunnbib @semperamans @groovyangelkisses @killerqueenfan @pomtherine @tranquility @m00npjm @twisteduniverse5 @justsomewritingblog @nhlfs @thepassionatereader @rebecca-hvnstn @nethanybear @dreamlandcreations @buckysteveloki-me @simsiddy @zablife @sansaorgana @autumleaves1991-blog @charmingballoon @butler-trouble @lindszeppelin @jaiuneamesolitaiire @wavyjassy @real-lana-del-rey @cynic-spirit @ilovehyperfixating @xcallmetaniax @pomtherine @lovenewfandoms . @abaker74 @youngestxhearts

[chlix]

juno

bf! minho x fem! reader: you have baby fever. your boyfriend wants to be with you forever. turns out you can kill 2 birds with 1 stone

genre: fluff, crack, suggestive (MDNI, explicit dialogue)

word count: 3.3k

warnings/tags: pregnancy scare, jokes about a breeding kink, marriage proposal, y/n is a little spoiled i gotta admit, this one is all over the place ya'll

a/n: minho's fic in my album series! this one is based on "juno". y/n is a LOT in this one but i found it way more fun and fitting to the song to write her that way rather than actually being down to earth and reasonable lol

You’re out at a mall with your friend Jia, having a lazy day shopping and eating overpriced food from the shops in the central plaza. It's been a while since you had time to bum around with her, and your boyfriend, Minho, had said he'd drive you there and take care of his own errands while he waited. He'd even handed you his second credit card and told you to get whatever you wanted, much to Jia's amusement. You wish you were more put off by him flaunting his money, but unfortunately you passed that point long ago. It's also due to the fact that his money is much appreciated at this point in your life. Currently, you’re a bit of a NEET; after you had to quit your last job, you’ve been doing little except sitting at home, attempting TikTok recipes, doing housework and fantasizing about having things like hobbies and life goals aside from marrying your boyfriend.

“That’s nothing new for you, though,” your friend Jia says. “You inherited the suburban princess aesthetic from your mother.”

“You say that as if we weren't raised on the same street” you say, words thick around the spoon of froyo in your mouth. “We’re both suburban princesses.”

Your eyes roam around the mall, people watching as you often do. Next to the frozen yogurt place you had just visited, there is a mother with her small toddler at the counter. The mother is stylishly dressed, in cute jeans and a red sweater, and her daughter matches perfectly in a tiny little red turtleneck and a corduroy pinafore press. She’s wearing little charms in her hair and has a backpack with a bunch of dangly charms that jingle as she fidgets. She is eyeing the froyo on the counter with big eyes as she waits for her mother to pay for it, ever so patient and polite. The cashier waves at her and the toddler waves back.

“Stopppp, look at them. Isn’t that girl so cute?”

Jia follows your eyeline to the mother and daughter at the froyo counter.

“She is. I love how her and mom are matching.”

“I can’t wait to have a little mini-me that I can wear matching outfits with.”

“You and I wear matching outfits all the time.”

“Yes, but I want to do it with someone cute.”

Jia’s eyes roll so hard that you know it must’ve hurt.

“Since when do you want kids, y/n?”

“Since always. Or I don’t know. Maybe I just was worried that it would be difficult? Or that I’d never find the right guy? But I think Minho would be a good father, so it’s kind of made me think about it again.”

“He seems like he’d be good with kids.”

“When we babysit my nephew, he’s really good with him. And he’s always been so attentive to me in everything, so I just know he would double down during pregnancy. He’d take bullets for me. He’d protect me, he’d bring me all my favorite foods he’d take care of me-”

“He really should be doing that all the time, not just when you’re pregnant. Like, what kind of cavewoman logic is this? Are you in heat or something?”

You take another bite of your froyo and savor it.

You’ve known Jia forever, and at this point her comments to you about your love life just go in one ear and out the other. She’s the one who introduced you to Minho, actually, so you’d thought maybe she’d spare you the lectures, but she seems to think your impulsivity would overrule Minho’s common sense. This isn’t you being impulsive, though. You’ve actually thought about it an embarrassing amount- the concept of Minho fathering your children. It’s not just some passing fancy.

When you’re thoroughly done enjoying your vanilla-passion fruit swirl, you deign to answer her.

“First of all, shut the fuck up. Second of all, no I’m not in heat. Is it so wrong to dream of motherhood? To yearn for something to care for?”

“You have three cats and seven potted plants.”

“I mean something that can love me back.”

“I’m telling Dori you said that.”

You ignore her, already lost in your little domestic fantasy. You could already imagine it. You could have a little girl who looked exactly like you. Or maybe just like you with Minho’s pretty eyes. You’ll develop all the “mom skills”, like sewing and kissing boo-boos and making baking soda volcanoes. And Minho would be there, giving her piggyback rides and pushing her on swing sets. He’d call both of you his “princesses” and you could take cute family photos for Christmas and mail them all your relatives. A perfect domestic life.

“Hello? Earth to y/n?”

You blink. Jia is looking at you with an exasperated expression.

“I’d ask you what you’re thinking about, but I already know.”

“Oh, really.”

“You only get that stupid expression on your face when you think about Minho.” Jia crumples up her trash and reaches behind her to throw it in a trash can. “Does he know you are having delusions of domesticity?”

“It’s not delusional. We’ve been together for like two years. We’ve talked about the future.”

“So he wants kids?”

“He wants whatever I want,” you say, and you can hear the lovesickness in your voice even before Jia lets out a long-suffering sigh.

“Go ask him to get you pregnant right now then. He seems like the type to think that’s really hot.”

“Everything I do is hot. I’m a catch. I’d look extra hot pregnant. Working so hard even when I’m just sitting around all day.”

“Your favorite activity.”

You wink cheekily. “Of course. You should give it a try sometime.”

“Give what a try?”

A familiar voice from behind you makes you perk up. You whip around to see your boyfriend in the flesh, coming up behind you. He’s finally arrived. His presence improves your mood by approximately one thousand percent. You can sit up straighter and breathe deeper. The sun shines brighter on your face. His pace is so leisurely that it’s driving you mad. You want to stand up and drag him closer to you, so that as much of you is touching you as possible. The meter between you feels like a nautical mile.

Christ, maybe you are in heat. You think it’s possible you’ve been permanently ovulating since you met Minho. Just seeing him coming has you contemplating breaking several civil laws.

Jia rats you out immediately. “We’re talking about pregnancy.”

“Oh.” Minho stops where he is, as if blocked by an invisible wall. “Is someone you know expecting?”

“Not yet,” Jia says.

“Jia,” you hiss.

Jia ignores you, revenge for forcing her to listen to you for the past half hour.

“Y/n thinks that pregnancy suits her lifestyle. She thinks she’d look hot pregnant. What’s your opinion on the topic?”

“Don’t answer that,” you tell him. “Jia, come on.”

Jia shrugs. “I don’t think it’s that crazy of a question. Your boyfriend should think you look hot all the time.”

“And I do,” Minho interjects, smiling slyly. “Especially right now, as you’re staring daggers at me.”

Jia leans up and stage whispers to Minho, eyes still trained on you. “She specifically said ‘extra hot’, just so you know.”

“I struggle to think she could get any hotter,” Minho says in answering stage whisper. “She’d look equally pretty frozen solid, or zombified.”

 “You know the saying is ‘until death do us part?’ You don’t have to keep loving her as a zombie.”

You try to be annoyed but you’re too busy cheesing for it to have any effect. “Okay haha fun’s over. Take me home now.”

Jia boos you as Minho grabs your hand to help you off the bench.

“As you wish,” he says, and kisses your hand with a flourish.

“I’ve gotta get going too. See you later, y/n.” She stands up and grabs her bag, then pauses and turns back. “If you’re pregnant the next time I see you, I will kill you.”

“You seriously give me no credit.”

Jia gives you an absolutely withering look and walks off.

“I shouldn’t have even brought it up,” you say mournfully. “She’s gonna start keeping tabs on me.”

“We’ll lock our doors and windows,” Minho says, and presses a kiss to your hair. “Home?”

Later that night, you’re lying on the couch searching up pictures of baby clothes. You have an entire Pinterest board for your future baby, and today’s scene at the park has inspired you to add to the collection. You scroll through little images of kids in duck outfits and Hello Kitty themed socks, of cute little barrettes to put in their wispy bangs. Your kids are going to be so well-dressed. They’ll make the other toddlers at the daycare jealous, and maybe even the moms too.

That’s good, though. It’s important to learn how to deal with adversity from a young age.

Your daughter is gonna be so well socialized and assertive and thick-skinned, just like her parents. She’ll get such good grades and be very polite. And you’ll get to show up to parent teacher conferences as the hottest mom in the entire class, which will be good for your ego, and then you can pass that confidence down to your child. It’ll be perfect. Your life will be perfect. You can see it in such clear and vivid detail.

Minho passes by you on the way back from the bathroom and glances down at your phone.

“Baby clothes?”

You blink up at him. You’re not embarrassed at being caught, but you are a little annoyed that he’s interrupted your daydreaming with one of his gateway questions.

“Yes. Our future child has to be up on fashion trends.”

“The fashion trends will have changed by the time you have a baby to dress up.”

To your own surprise, your heart actually stutters with the reminder that you are currently not, in fact, with child.

“Don’t remind me,” you whine, rolling over to hide your face in the cushions. “Jia already lectured me today.”

“Lectured?”

You partially roll back over to look up at him. “She says that I’m being delusional for wanting a baby so badly.”

“How is wanting to be a mother delusional?”

“Right? And I told her like what are you talking about, we’ve already talked about the future, and we’re gonna have kids, and she just gave me this look.”

“Jia’s just looking out for you. She doesn’t want you to rush into things.”

“Jia is a cynic and a skeptic. She thinks we’re too young to have a baby.”

“Well, aren’t we?”

“Are we?” Your visions of being a MILF dance through your head. “I think having kids young would be cute.”

Now Minho looks skeptical. “Really? Since when.”

“Since I had a paradigm shift. I always knew I wanted them, in a vague sense. But now I know that I want to have them with you, specifically, so it’s been on my mind a lot more.”

“You want to have my kids?”

You bristle. “Well they’d be my kids, too, y’know.”

“I know that-”

“And who else’s kids would they be? Do you envision us breaking up?”

“Absolutely not,” Minho says. “You’re stuck with me forever.”

“Right. So then eventually I’ll be having your kids. I mean, if that’s okay with you.”

Minho sits down next to you on the couch. “That’s really what you want?”

“Yes?” A single pang of doubt flashes across your chest. “Do you not want that?”

“No, I do, baby. I’d love to have a family with you. I just want to be sure we’re on the same page, and we’ve thought it through.”

“Well, like you said, we’re still young.” Jia’s admonishment of not being married flashes through your mind. “But sometimes I see little kids in public, or on TV, and I think, God, I want a baby so bad. Y’know? I want to be pregnant. I want to glow like that, and everything.”

Something complicated passes over his face. A lightbulb goes off in your head. It’s the same expression that he had when Jia had mentioned to him the topic of your conversation.

“Oh my god. You actually do think I’d look hot pregnant.”

“Didn’t I say that at the mall?”

“No, you were teasing me. But now you’re being for real. You want to knock me up.”

Minho says nothing, but the tips of his ears redden. You shoot upright, delighted at the turn of events.

“Oh my god, you actually want to knock me up!”

“Would you rather I didn’t?”

“No! Of course not. I want to be the only girl you want, and I want you to want me in every way.”

“Well you are, and I do,” he says flatly. “Congratulations.”

“Congratulations is right,” you say. You’re giddy with energy. “Have you thought about it a bunch? Is that why you wanted me on the pill? So you could cum in me and indulge your breeding kink?”

“I don’t have a breeding kink.I just love you. There’s a difference.”

“You’ve said at least five times today you think I’d be hot while I’m pregnant,” you remind him. “Seems kind of breeding kink-ish to me.”

“You have spent the entire day fantasizing about having my kids. That’s the definition of a breeding kink.” Minho leans further into your space, and though his words are teasing, his tone is decidedly not. You feel heat start to run through you, and not from embarrassment. You scoot closer to him, pulled by magnetic forces beyond your comprehension.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m just life planning. I’m making vision boards.” The lie is so flimsy your lips trip as you try to say it.

“Uh-huh. Right. Because you normally start breathing heavy when you make vision boards.”

“This is unfair. Of course I’ll get turned on when you start talking like this.”

“Like what?” he says, leaning even closer. You can feel his breath on your face, and a shiver goes down your spine.

“Like you’re going to fucking breed me.”

His smile is absolutely feline. “That can be arranged.”

“Is that what you want?”

“Baby, I want whatever you want.”

You grab onto his shoulders, tight. “Then take me to bed, hot stuff.”

His eyes darken. A hand comes up to your face, and he kisses you gently. He grabs you by the hand…

and of course, he gives you what you want.

Your period is a week late.

It’s actually Minho who notices and points it out, which causes you to freak out and call Jia, who freaks out worse than you and demands that you go to the store immediately and buy a test. You get three different brands, and also an entire chocolate cake which will either be for congratulations or for emotional support.

Minho waits outside the bathroom door, an encouraging presence as you try to calm yourself down enough to read the labels.

“Whatever happens, I’m here,” he tells you. You can’t tell whether he wants it to be positive or negative. You aren’t even sure what you want. Yes, you want a baby, yes, babymaking sex is hot and you want to keep having it whether it gets you knocked up or not, but you’re both still young, and he has a career, and your apartment doesn’t have a third bedroom so there’d be nowhere for the nursery that you’ve already meticulously planned out in your mind-

The timer goes off. You open your eyes and look down.

“Negative,” you say, loud enough for Minho to hear outside the door. “All of them.”

Minho doesn’t say anything. You let out a deep breath, tension falling out of you, and open the door. Minho is on the other side, expression cautious.

“Is it bad that I’m a little disappointed?” he says, and his tone is joking but the words stick in your chest because you agree. The relief you expected to feel is nowhere to be found.

“I hope not, because that makes two of us.”

He draws you into a hug, and you sink into him, processing all the events of the last hour.

“And I was all ready to start building a crib.”

You snort. “Picking up carpentry as a hobby?”

“A real father should work with their hands. I need thick, callused hands to hold my baby with, so they feel smaller and daintier by comparison.”

“Wild thing to say, honestly.”

“It works on you.”

You break free and shove him playfully. “You’re ridiculous. You’d be a good father even with your soft city boy hands.”

“You think so?” he says, his tone heavier than before. You don’t even hesitate.

“Yes. Any child would be lucky to have you as a father.” You sigh dramatically. “Unfortunately it seems my uterus didn’t pull through this time.”

Minho is silent for a moment. “Well. We could…try again.”

You stare at him. “Sorry?”

“I mean, you said I’d be a good father. You said you wished the test was positive. I want that too. Just because it didn’t work this time doesn’t mean that-”

“Wait. Wait wait wait wait. Are you serious?” You’re gob smacked. You can’t believe that your usually cautious boyfriend is proposing you have a baby right now.

“I’m serious,” he confirms. “You’d be such a good mom. And I know how much you want this.”

“And you think I’d look hot pregnant.”

“Obviously,” he says, without a hint of jest.

“But I’m- we’re so young, and I’m unemployed, and-”

“Sorry, were you planning on getting a job any time soon?”

Your cheeks heat up. “Oh shut up.”

“No, it’s perfect. You can be a loving stay-at-home mom. I’ll be the breadwinner.”

“Stop it. Stop talking this way. You’re- do you know how pissed my friends would be? What would I tell Jia? She almost bit my head off over the phone earlier, did you hear her? She was so pissed that I was thinking of motherhood instead of marriage-”

“Then let’s get married.”

“Don’t start.”

“Y/n, I’m not joking.”

You actually think you’re going to faint. Your heart is racing and you’re breaking out in a sweat. Is it hot in here? Did you forget to pay the AC bill this month?”

“Are you proposing to me right now?” You’re trying to joke but you’re breathless. “You’re proposing to me as a gimmick to get me to bear your children?”

Minho cringes. “Saying it like that makes me sound manipulative.”

“It’s kinda manipulative.”

“You’re the one who said you wanted to be married before having kids. And I want to do both of those things with you eventually, so why not now?”

Your vision is blurring. For a moment you worry you actually are fainting, but then you realize that you’re crying instead.

“Stop playing with me, Minho, I’m so serious.”

“I’m not playing with you. I actually already bought a ring, but I didn’t know if the timing was right. Like you said, we’re young, and I didn’t know how you felt about getting married so soon. So I thought I’d ask eventually but-”

You lunge forward and kiss him. If you’d felt stressed earlier while taking the test, that’s nothing compared to the depth of emotion you’re feeling now as you hold each other. It’s like joy is filling you up so much that you don’t know where your body behind and ends.

When you finally separate, Minho asks,

“Is that a yes?”

“You’re not proposing to me in our living room,” you tell him. “You have to ask me again. Later. Don’t even show me the ring. Wait, what color is it? You know I only wear gold.”

“You think I’d forget something like that? I’m going to be your husband. I know what jewelry you wear.”

If he wasn’t holding you up, you think you’d actually collapse to the ground from the way you absolutely swoon.

“Propose to me again and I’ll say yes. Right now, I need you to put a baby in me.”

“You want to walk down the aisle pregnant? Your dream wedding dress has a corset.”

“Oh my god, we’ll do it before I start showing, just fuck me, please!”

Minho doesn’t make you ask a third time.

[eternalmoonlight18]

Please Please Please (Don't Prove Em Right)

Trafalgar Law x afab Female!Reader

Next Chapter

Summary:

You are the Heart Pirates' beloved cook and sniper. However, you were also an insufferable troublemaker who always seemed to get on Law's nerves. He swears he's going to get rid of you one day, but as much as he hates it, why does he find you fascinating? Was it because you reminded him of someone he was greatly fond of?

As your relationship with Law grows, he only hopes you don't fucking embarrass him. After all, he has an image to uphold as one of the Seven Warlords of the Sea.

This story starts off as short stories between (Y/N), Law and the Heart Pirates, then picks up into the One Piece canon timeline, starting from Punk Hazard. This is a slow-burn Law x Female Reader story!

Updates every Sunday!

Cross-posted in Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/57651295/chapters/146705491

Notes: This is my very first fanfiction!

As you would have guessed, the title is based on the song Please Please Please by Sabrina Carpenter. It's like a more lighthearted reimagining of the song!

I'm mostly writing this for self-indulgence but I hope you guys like it as well :)

Chapter 1: Ice Water Poker

Chapter summary: you thought playing Ice Water Poker was a great idea until you injured yourself and almost damaged the Polar Tang. Law decides that he's almost had enough of your shenanigans.

You hated the infirmary.

The bleak walls, the soft crinkle of the paper on top of the infirmary bed, and the fact that all of the medical equipment was just lying out in the open made it uncomfortable to be in the room.

You hated the infirmary, but you were there every day because of your endless carelessness and schemes against the Heart Pirates.

But you weren't an enemy to them, you in fact, were their beloved cook. You became the Heart Pirate’s cook just over a year ago, and it wasn’t because they loved your cooking. It’s because none of them can cook for shit and you felt bad for them. When you first met them, they were eating overcooked rice and burnt fish. You soon learned that those were Law’s favourite foods, but by great Neptune's Beard, it tasted terrible. So you decided (forcibly) to join the crew out of pity, out of Law's dismay.

However, you weren't new to the pirate life. You were a pirate before you met them, as you used to be in Kidd’s crew as their cook. But things got complicated so you ditched them. And by complicated, it meant that you accidentally food-poisoned Kidd and he was going to kill you the next time he saw you.

And so a year later, you were with the Heart Pirates. You loved it. You had a great kitchen to work with, and the crew loved every meal you made. Law was a great captain and you greatly respected him. You eventually gained his respect since you always cooked what he requested. And not only you were a cook, but you were also a decent fighter. You specialized as a sniper, which Law saw as a great asset to the crew.

You were a great cook, and you loved what you did, and you wouldn't trade it for anything else. 

But the only issue was that you got bored when you were not cooking. And so, you cured that boredom by doing what you do second best: being a gremlin.

At least that’s what Law called you. You would say it’s more like being the only sole entertainer in this damn submarine. The Polar Tang was so boring sometimes and you decided that a little fun might cheer things about around the crew. But as often as you did ridiculous stunts in the submarine, you also often found yourself sitting in the infirmary bed with your captain tending to your injuries.

And that’s how you found yourself in the infirmary for the 5th time in a week. And Law was not amused at all.

“So tell me,” Law said while he calmly walked in front of you as you were sitting on the bed. He stopped to face you. “Why the FUCK do you, Penguin and Shachi all have large gashes on the forehead?!” he yelled. He glared looked at you, then whipped his head to glare at the two men beside the bed. 

The scab on your palms suddenly became very interesting so you decided to stare and pick at it. To your left were Penguin and Shachi standing nervously next to the bed and both faced opposite ways, away from the doctor.

Law started to get irritated. “I asked you a question (Y/n)-ya,” he instructed.

You let out a small nervous laugh and looked up at the doctor. Penguin and Shachi also laughed.

“Well you see captain, we were all playing strip poker.” Penguin started. Law’s eyes narrowed at the man. Shachi continued after Penguin, “B-but instead of stripping, we had to dump a bucket of ice water whenever we placed the wrong bet. But then (Y/n) got mad because she was losing and filled up two buckets of ice water to dump on us, but she ended up slipping and hit both Penguin and me on the forehead with the bucket as she fell.”

You suddenly froze and realized you just got snitched on. You glared at the two men who for some reason also suddenly realized that they snitched, and they both quickly looked away from you.

“You fucking snitches!” you exclaimed. “You are so getting burnt food tonight.”

"But that's not fair..." Penguin and Shachi both mumbled. 

Law sighed heavily. He rubbed his temples with his tattooed fingers, most likely out of annoyance. “Shut up, all of you. So let me get this straight, all three of you decided that it was a good idea to dump water onto my submarine’s floors because of a card game. And I don’t care that you idiots are injured; have you considered the fact that the water can leak into the boiler room?!”

And as if on cue, the Polar Tang started to make a strange groaning noise. The four of you in the infirmary froze. A vein popped on Law's head as he suddenly began to shake in anger.

Seeing your captain angry, Penguin, Shachi and you all looked at each other. You were all thinking of the same thing. You all made a run for it. All three of you dashed for the door and ran out of the infirmary.

"Hey!! You bastards better come back here!!" Law shouted as he realized his troublesome crew left.

“Oh, we’re so dead! Captain is going to kill us!” Penguin exclaimed as he ran.

"Forget captain, I think the Tang is going to explode and kill us!" Shachi argued.

"Both of you shut up!" You shouted. "Let's hide before-" You were cut off because you and the two men were suddenly transported into the infirmary. A large thud was heard when you three landed on your asses on the feet of a very angry sea captain. All three of you groaned in pain from the impact. You slowly looked up and saw the death glare of your captain, staring down at you. You felt uneasy shivers down your spine and heard the two men gulp behind you.

"You all had the stomach to run away from me huh?" He darkly chuckled.

The three of you started to shake with fear. For the first time, you genuinely pissed the man off and you instantly regretted it.

"Hey captain, don't worry! We'll fix the boiler room right now!" you said shakily.

The raven-haired man raised his eyebrows at the comment. "Oh? And how can you do that with your current state?" he questioned you.

You were wondering why he gave you a strange look until you felt something wet and cold on your forehead. You instantly brought up your left hand to touch it and saw that you started bleeding from the gash. Then you blacked out. The last thing you heard was Penguin's unusually high-pitched scream before your head hit the floor.

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

You woke up to the smell of black tea. You slowly opened up your eyes and felt disoriented and cold. When you fully opened your eyes, you found yourself staring at the mute grey ceiling above you. You were still in the infirmary.

"Fuck." you thought. "This might be the worst day of my life."

You slowly got up to sit. You groaned in pain as you felt a sharp pain on the side of your head. You glanced at the table in front of you and looked at the steaming mug of hot tea. Then as you turned to let your legs down on the side of the bed, you glanced to the right of the bed and saw your captain sitting in his examiner chair with his legs crossed. While he looked at you with a neutral face, his eyes were unreadable.

"So you finally decided to wake up (Y/n)-ya. I was starting to think that we needed to find another cook," he said, dripped with sarcasm.

You squinted your eyes at him. "As if you could find one, I'm sure no one wants to cook for your shitty crew." you retorted.

Law ignored your comment and got up from his chair to walk towards you. You noticed that he was getting closer so you scooted back further into the wall behind you. The doctor placed both of his tattooed hands on the bed, trapping you in the box of his arms. Never breaking eye contact, he leaned his face into yours and stared at you with an annoyed smirk. "I usually don't mind your antics on my submarine but you have gone too far this time." he lowly said.

You ignored his words. Instead, you scrunched your nose. "Your breath smells like grilled fish captain," you said.

Law was suddenly taken aback by your random comment, his face twisting into an irritated scowl.

"The next time you pull another stunt like this, I'm throwing you overboard. I don't care if we're eating rocks for weeks."

"But I don't know how to swim."

"I don't care. Why are you out at sea then if you don't know how to swim?"

"But you can't even swim either captain, you'd sink like a rock if you fell in. I wouldn't talk if I were you."

Law scoffed. He couldn't argue with that comment. You were pushing his buttons and he didn't know whether to laugh or throw you out of the submarine.

Law kept staring into you and you kept staring back. This was the first time seeing his face up close and you saw how handsome he was for the first time. His small sweep of bangs along with his sideburns perfectly shape his rugged face. But what caught your attention was his grey eyes. You observed how tired his eyes looked, but your intuition told you that it was more than physical tiredness that was getting to him. You could feel the unknown emotional battles he was facing through his stormy grey eyes as if he was looking for answers he could not find. You found them unusually beautiful.

You broke the silence and suddenly blurted out;

"You have very pretty eyes, captain."

This time he was completely bewildered by your comment. Law blinked at you and his eyebrows slowly relaxed. His eyes slightly widened and he took a small step back. His mouth suddenly gaped slightly open and he felt his ears heat up.

"What are you talking about (Y/n)-ya?" he coughed. He completely broke out of his stern and facade and turned into a flustered mess.

However, you remained oblivious to the consequences of your words. You tilted your head to the left curiously.

"Why are your ears red? Are you getting a fever?" you questioned. The doctor stepped back even more but straightened up his composure. He was the captain of this crew and a feared pirate in the seas. He was not about to lose his image over his subordinate. Realizing that he was flustered, he quickly became angry again.

You'd think that a 25-year-old man would know how to properly regulate his feelings, but Law's display of emotional confusion would prove otherwise.

He finally blew up. "Enough! You caused too much chaos today. I'm punishing you for being reckless again." Law ordered.

While his tone of voice was stern, his face said otherwise. "Are you going to throw me overboard?" you teased. "Or are you going to make me fix the boiler room with Penguin and Shachi?"

You snickered and started to grin. You didn't care at all because you always got out of trouble. Penguin and Shachi said it's because the captain had a soft spot for you, but you think that Law accepts the fact that he has no choice but to keep you if he wants to eat edible good food.

Law placed two fingers on his chin and put some thought into the question. Then he smirked mischievously. "No. I got something worse."

There was a pregnant pause. Then he spoke again; "You're going to make me a week's batch of rice balls for me." he proclaimed.

The colour drained from your face. You hated making rice balls. It may be the captain's favourite, but it took forever to prepare and make. Now he wants you to make a week's batch worth of it? You understood that he was mad but he was taking his anger too far.

"I'd rather jump out and drown!" you protested.

"I'd like to see you try." Law retorted. "That's what you get for damaging my submarine!"

The man did have a point. You admit that sometimes your escapades can be too. much.

You pouted in defeat. "Fine. I'll do it," you said. You hopped off the medical bed and proceeded to walk out of the infirmary. You were in a bad mood, and you were going to beat the living hell out of Penguin and Shachi for snitching on you.

"I'm going to put flour and bread in those rice balls," you mumbled as you walked out the door.

"What was that?" Law asked. "Nothing!" you said out of fake cheer. You stomped away and headed to the kitchen. The captain extinguished your playful spirit in the meanwhile, but you'd be back.

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

Back at the infirmary, Law sighed. He took off his hat and placed it on the bed, then sat down in his chair. He brought his left hand and combed through his hair as he leaned back and looked up at the ceiling. Today's set of events was just too much for him.

As he closed his eyes, your previous words rang in his ears.

"You have very pretty eyes, captain."

The tattooed doctor's ears turned red again. "What am I going to do with you (Y/n)-ya?" He sighed.

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

EXTRA SCENE

It was midnight in the Polar Tang. Everyone went to bed. It was one of those few moments when the submarine was quiet enough to hear the hum of the sub's engine.

While everyone was asleep, the captain was in his quarters, wide awake. He was finishing up his crew's recent medical reports and your medical file. He was always stressed about updating it because you were getting injured every single day.

Law stacked up the final pages of the report and set them aside. He got up from his desk and stretched. He let out a big groan, a signal of his tiredness. Then he remembered that you were making his favourite food, rice balls, as a punishment and grinned. He was looking forward to eating a good snack before he headed to bed.

He carefully and quietly made his way to the submarine's kitchen. As he entered the room, he saw that you laid out a plate of 3 rice balls on the dining table. The doctor excitedly walked up and grabbed one of the rice balls. He eyed it for a second, like it was the last meal he was ever going to take, then took a big bite of the food you prepared, expecting to be thrown into a world of indulgence.

However, he instantly regretted his actions. He turned blue, spat out the food and coughed like he had the flu. He should've known better than to take a very inviting plate of rice balls in the kitchen that you prepared. It was like luring a fish with bait and the great Surgeon of Death, Trafalgar Law, fell for it.

He was so going to throw you out to the sea in the morning.

[blackbird5154]

Papa lll's special kung fu

After watching a lot of Terzo footage, I've noticed his amazing talent for turning disadvantages into advantages. And here's what I mean.

▸ If you love Third Era acoustic performances as much as I do, you've probably noticed that very often things went wrong on them. Tangled wires, dropped sound, wrong mic height, forgotten song lyrics 😅 Every time something like that happened, Terzo amused the audience while the problem was fixed, and now we remember those moments as the most touching. He didn't hide the problem, he made fun of it.

▸ Philadelphia Incident, 2015. Pope Francis arrives in town at the same time as Ghost and makes it so they have to cancel the concert. At the next show, Terzo praises the audience for their support and says he is by far the second greatest pope in the world. He says “number two” in such a voice that you absolutely believe that being number two is the coolest and sexiest thing in the world.

▸ March 28th 2017. Papa falls off the stage into the pit and immediately uses this as an opportunity to approach the crowd and hold their hands. Papa, fall more often. Your ass looks really fine.

▸ He almost falls again, but pretends it was part of a dance move.

▸ The legendary hole in the shoe is the result of his ability to turn problems into advantages. Anyone else in his place would have thought, “Damn, my shoe's worn out, now I need a new one. I've got to change it without anyone noticing.” But Terzo thinks about turning it into an event and makes it iconic. Sometimes I think he could be a successful businessman with the most creative ideas. One of those people who can make a fortune from used cans.

▸ How to resolve situation if you passed out during a concert? That's right, compliment the ladies who are so beautiful that you fainted, and make their hearts melt.

Now let's dig a level deeper.

Radley and I have already written quite a bit about the theme of loneliness in Terzo's monologues. It all boils down to the fact that, according to Papa, ghosts can be pretty good company if you're lonely. Here are a couple of telling quotes:

We can't always get what we want. You know that, huh? But one thing that can keep you company in a lonely hour… are the ghosts inside. Let them be your friend rather than your enemy. It's that darkness that sometimes makes the person, eh?

Lawrence, Kansas, USA (October 5, 2015)

And

You have a lot of things in your life, huh? We all crave so many things. If we list… in order to feel as if… we all get all these things and then everything will feel better. Ain't that right? I am exactly the same. But I do know one thing… is that if you have the spirits and the demons inside you that causes a little… wreckage. That can be to your favor. Believe me. An empty shell is nothing, so...

Chicago, Illinois, USA (October 3, 2015)

Usually ghosts are associated with something scary, or they're a metaphor for memories of people you've lost. It sounds like Terzo was able to “win them over” to his side, make them his allies in a lonely hour, turn them from tormentors to trusted companions. Sounds like a profound reinterpretation of the experience of unhappiness. Someday I'll learn to do the same.

A phrase from the classic comes to mind, You have to make the good out of the bad because that is all you have got to make it out of. Maybe Terzo would argue with the second part, but would agree with the first.

▸[Part 7] ▸Encyclopedia of Terzo

[thedemises]

——— COLD HANDS。 ★ sunday.

note; I don't think I wrote my boy sunday good enough to the canon..... anyways I took inspiration from the fact that my hands r always cold so why not 😈 (I totally didn't take a week to finish this hahahahah this turned out a lot longer than I expected,,,, over 2k.... 😦)

tagging; @aventurineswife :3

you could've barely noticed it at first, but the tips of your fingers were slowly growing numb as time passes, likely due to the cold humidity in the room. however, you hardly care, letting yourself sink into the serene stillness in the party car of the astral express.

it had always been a normal occurrence for your hands to feel much colder than anyone else's, and it was a bother at times when you would unintentionally graze your own hand against a part of your body — however, you managed to find a small advantage in it; often pressing your icy fingers against your friends' necks as a small, playful prank.

you can remember the priceless expressions on your fellow express members' faces whenever you pull such an act on them without their awareness and the thought of it barely makes you chuckle to yourself on any occasion. heh, the corner of your lips quirk up into a sly smirk without your intentions.

though you wouldn't recommend doing that to the conductor of the train...

pointer fingers lightly tap on each other with hands clasped together, you stay seated with legs crossed as your eyes occasionally scan the room carefully for a potential candidate to interact with. member or guest, you just want to talk to pass the time. (shush isn't really fun to converse with, in your opinion; other than those jokes, he's a gentleman but not quite interesting enough in your eyes. though you're curious about shush's creator; the one who made the mixologist).

the top of your shoe taps against the polished floor, in a steady rhythm made up by your mind — or coming from a song you had in your mind for a while now — while you eventually spot your victim possible conversationist.

a young man standing at the farthest corner of the cart, in a bicolored tailcoat and small wings behind his ears which are of similar tone to his muted blue hair as a golden halo floats behind the head. they flap and twitch from time to time and he is merely unbothered by the silence in the area (besides the sound of glass cups clinking from shush cleaning them and that lady in a purple veil looking over some tarot cards floating in her hands), the halovian simply stares about at the space outside the cabin with a sort of... longing look in his eyes.

...

ah, sunday — former head of the oak family and older brother of the interastral famous idol; robin. honestly; you weren't really involved in the whole penacony catastrophe since you, alongside dan heng, decided to stay behind in the express until you made the decision to go and went along with the archivist (and a certain galaxy ranger who was practically hijacking the parlor car, and with a gun pointed at the reserved train guardian no less) and then assisting the others in taking down that damned giant mechanical monstrosity and that damned giant mechanical monstrosity's sea angel-looking things.

and now with that event taken care of and calming down, it's a bit of a surprise when the guy who tried to basically kill the other astral express members aboards the same train that railed him over a couple times and is now trying to redeem himself from the goal where he tried to turn everyone's dream into a complacent bliss by taking everyone's free will & future in the process.

instead of the one who (though, unintentionally) almost ascended to aeonhood, sunday is reduced to a mere passenger on the express train you too aboard on. what a life turning of events.

and with the idea of spooking him as well settles at the top of your mind.

the mischievous thought solidifies, and your eyes gleam with a subtle spark of excitement. sunday seems like the perfect target — a mix of composed and distant, a far cry from the usual express members who might anticipate your pranks by now; considering how long it has been since you've been a member.

your cold fingers itch with anticipation, the chill now feels like an asset rather than a hindrance — and it feels like the oh-so perfect moment to do so.

you rise from your seat slowly, careful not to make a sound that would alert him to your approach, as your steps are light, muffled by the carpeted floor of the party car. the young halovian seems deeply engrossed in the view beyond the window, the distant in his gaze making you almost reconsider — just for half a second. however, the faint smirk creeping up onto your lips reminds you of your current goal.

and who are you to shy away so quickly from an itching opportunity to fill your satisfaction?

as you inch closer behind with the quietest of steps, his ear wings twitch slightly, making you pause your movements. they’re... quite delicate up close than you realized, the translucent blue edges of each pale feather shimmering faintly and you were almost distracted by them. almost.

why yes, you were curious about his halovian features but now's not the time to ponder, you...

with deft fingers, you gently brush aside a curtain of his muted blue hair, exposing the nape of his neck. it's quite warmer than you expected — soft, almost inviting — and, while at the back of your mind you were a bit baffled how sunday barely even noticed what you were doing, it takes every ounce of self-control not to giggle at the thought of what’s about to happen.

“ah, what’s the point of hesitation now?” you mutter under your breath before plunging your frozen-like fingers onto the bare skin of his neck—

—the reaction you got was instantaneous. sunday’s breath hitches audibly and a low, startled gasp escapes his lips as his entire body jolts from the sudden, icy shock at the nape of his neck; his posture was rigid as if struck by lightning as his ear wings snap open instinctively, flaring out like a startled bird's — the sharp motion sends a soft, fleeting breeze through the air, ruffling your hair slightly.

“by the stars—!” he gasps, eyes wide and glimmering like fractured glass as a hand flies up to cover the assaulted area as if to guard it from another ambush from your shenanigans. his intriguing golden halo hovering behind his head wavers slightly, tilting as though reflecting his momentary loss of composure, and his cheeks flushed a light peachy red from the heat of surprise.

the young man spins around after a small beat of silence with a sharp intake of breath, his expression a mix of shock and confusion, the serene mask he wore moments ago completely shattered.

your hands had already retracted when sunday covered the back of his own neck, and you can't help the laughter that spills out of you; unrestrained and shameless.

“wo—ow!” you manage between bouts of mirth, a hand barely covers your mouth to partially drown out half the noise you were making within the usually quiet cart. “that... that was... absolutely priceless, sunday...!” your voice wavers and slightly cracks at the end of your sentence, still carried by the remnants of your laughter; the amusement from the entire situation clearly written all over your face.

for a moment, he just stares at you, caught between the bewilderment and indignation of your little prank... then, his brows knit together in a way that’s almost endearing, and his lips press into a tight line. “what… was that for?” his careful voice carries the faintest tremor, as though he’s still recovering from the shock of the chill.

eventually, you've recovered from your little laughing fit enough to answer sunday properly this time, as a hand of yours reached up to wipe off a small tear from your eyes. “oh, come on,” you lightly tease, leaning against a nearby chair with a smug grin. “you were just.. idly standing over there, looking all broody and mysterious; I couldn’t resist.”

sunday exhales sharply, visibly trying to collect himself. his wings fold back into place with a soft rustle, and his hand lingers protectively over his neck before letting it hang by his side.

“I was merely... thinking.”

“hm? about what?” asked you while tilting your head.

the halovian hesitates as the faint blush lingering on his cheeks gradually fades, leaving his complexion noticeably paler. “nothing that concerns you.”

“huh, is that so?” you drawl, tapping your chin as if in deep thought. “perhaps I have just found a new mystery to solve — cracking sunday’s enigmatic shell.”

“i— don’t even think about it,” he mutters, though there’s a flicker of something in his tone — a hint of amusement, perhaps? the left wing behind his ear twitches subtly before steadying behind him, but the slight folding of both ear wings toward his face betrays his embarrassment.

amused by his actions, you chuckle to yourself again and fold your arms over your chest. “you’ll have to lighten up eventually, y’know sunny. can’t stay all reserved and quiet forever.”

“don't—” sunday abruptly stops himself, then he sighs in exasperation of your antics. “you’re insufferable. but please refrain from calling me that in the future.”

“and you’re fun to mess with.” you flash him a cheeky smirk, already contemplating your next move. after all, what’s life aboard the astral express without a little bit of mischief?

“also, why not? but, however, if that's what you want...”

as sunday just turns away to the side just a bit, you straighten up your posture, still all smiley and smirking whatnot. you can’t help but feel a sense of accomplishment; breaking through the usually quiet halovian's composure felt like a minor victory in itself. the quiet hum of the astral express fills the air again as the moment between you fades into the serene stillness of the party car.

still, something about the faint blush lingering on sunday’s cheeks keeps tugging at your thoughts. veneath the cool exterior and formal demeanor lies a person who, much like everyone else aboard this train, carries their own scars and stories. you might be good at teasing and poking a bit here and there, but you’re not oblivious to the weight he seems to bear — especially with what happened in the recent events.

the mood shifts slightly as you observe him quietly — he has resumed gazing out the window, though his expression is much softer now, his wings no longer bristling but relaxed. the golden halo behind him stabilizes, the light coming from the lights inside the party cart casting a faint glow that makes him look almost ethereal.

“you know,” you say, breaking the silence. sunday still gazes into the galaxy beyond the window but he secretly listens to whatever you're about to say. “I’m not always about pranks — however, if you ever feel like talking about whatever’s on your mind, I can lend you an ear too.”

the young man turns his head toward you, his brows raise up a little in mild surprise. for a moment, he seems to study you, as if trying to gauge your sincerity — finally, he exhales, and a small, almost imperceptible smile touches his lips.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

the response is brief but carries a surprising warmth that wasn’t there before. you nod in response, satisfied, and let the quietness stretch out again. maybe there’s more to sunday than meets the eye, and perhaps, in time, he’ll let you see a little more of what lies beneath his enigmatic exterior in the near future of trailblazing expeditions.

the sliding doors to the party car slide open suddenly, and ever-so bubbly march 7th bounces in as her ever-cheerful energy fills the space of the previous serene atmosphere. “hey! what’s going on in here? did I miss something fun?”

you almost can’t resist glancing at sunday with a small mischievous glint in your eye, the latter in question softly groans and shakes his head to himself.

“oh, really nothing much. I was merely giving our newest passenger a warm welcome.”

the bubblegum-haired girl glances between the two of you, a bit curious what the two of you were doing a bit earlier. “huh.. really though? because it looks like you were up to no good again.”

“awh— wait, me? never,” you tilt your head slightly as your voice takes on an exaggerated tone of mock-innocence. behind you, sunday exhales sharply and his eyes narrow as he pinches the bridge of his nose. march 7th crosses her arms, arching a brow before both of them briefly exchange a shared look — one that speaks volumes about their exasperation.

as the conversation shifts to lighter topics, the laughter and camaraderie in the room slowly build, filling the once-quiet space with warmth and life. even the young halovian seems to ease into the dynamic, his reserved nature softening just a bit as he listens to the banter around him.

in this moment, you realize that life aboard the astral express isn’t just about the journeys or the destinations — it’s about the people you share them with, the stories you create, and the bonds you forge along the way.

and as the stars continue to streak past outside into the milky way, you can’t help but feel that this is exactly where you’re meant to be.

© thedemises 2024. all rights reserved. please do not plagiarize, copy, or feed my written works to ai.

[loudclan-clangen]

The song “Beautiful Little Fool” for Fiercestripe? Because I am not getting over her death. Listened to it and she was the first character to pop into my head.

You’re so right!

YES! Please do, I would love to see it!

The boring answer is that I've been drawing cats for a VERY long time. I think since I was 8 they have been the majority of what I drew. The less boring answer is you know the movie Spirit? It changed my life. It had a bonus video where one of the artists taught you how to draw Spirit himself and it was the singular thing that inspired me to start drawing (more likely possessed me). I think I must have been about two the first time I saw it because I cannot remember a time before I had that video memorized. I would spend hours sitting in front of that video (which was only like 10-15 minutes long) with a stack of papers just fully focused on perfectly following his instructions. I still think about that video to this day. Every time I draw legs the voice of James Baxter echoes through my mind. I don't know if that translates to why my cats are so beefy, I own a cat who is quite chonky, so that might contruibute to it, but now you have a fun fact about me regardless!

All of the heirs are chosen based on birth order! Whoever is born first gets to be heir. I personally find that making strict rules about stuff makes playing the game a lot easier for me, I find it stressful to try to pick a "good heir" when I don't know what's going to happen later in the game so to limit that I just let it be completely out of my hands. 2. The game rolled for Songpaw to become a medicine cat! I would have changed it if he was an only kit or probably if I had known that Dashpaw was gonna die, cause I was really stressed about losing my run at that point, but I do my best to write a story that makes the game make sense rather than change what the game gives me when possible. I think it helps me to not have much of a story in mind while I play, just noting down events and thoughts and then going back and piecing it all together afterwards. That way nothing can "go wrong". 3. "Heir-hood" only applies to the leaders. There is no expectation that Cavepaw will become a healer. When Weed dies that position will be open until someone wishes to volunteer for it. 4. Honestly I don't really know. This might spoil a little bit, of tension, but I truly never had that happen. I was SUPER worried about it and did a lot to make sure it wouldn't, but after a couple of generations you get to a point where almost everyone is descended from a leader at somepoint. (And also everyone is second cousins with each other but you know what there are some problems that you just have to live with.) I image the clan would look for an omen and just pick a new leader based off of that and start the process all over again. In my experience worst comes to worst just make sure you have a very accurate family tree and trace it back a couple of generations.

Thank you so much! I don't play with any mods for Loudclan, I'm too scared to lose saves to less than stable code. My favorite mod currently is Kori's Awoogen though! I just like to look at the beautiful art mostly. I use mass extinction as population control, so I turn it on and off based on how many cats I have. Two full pages is the upper limit of what I'm willing to deal with, so once a third page opens I turn mass extinction on and after an extinction happens I turn it back off. (also if I dip below 1 full page I turn unknown parents on until I'm back to two pages again). I've found after a couple of generations you can mostly stop worrying about it because the bloodlines have spread so far there's always someone who's a 6th great great cousin or something.

The game generated him Dashpelt! I probably would have picked Dashfoot to stick with the generated them of a boring suffix but to make more sense overall.

[voidsuites]

FANTASY-THEMED BOT RELEASE !!! (12/20/24) ⌢ ✨ .ᐟ

art donaldson ・゜゜・．angelic inquisitions. he's your guardian angel. while he's not as naïve as he appears to be, art is not as well-versed in some parts of human culture as he is in others. you've opted to give him some hands-on experience when it comes to the more... romantic side of humanity, and that alone in and of itself is more daunting than anything he's done. you'll just have to forgive him if your lesson ends with him short-circuiting any electronics in the area... it's really not his fault.

art donaldson ・゜゜・．siren song. in a small, seaside town like new rochelle, tales of sirens are shared as warnings— and as reasoning for their curfew as soon as the sun sets over the sea cliffs. no one has spotted in one in decades since the town's formation, but no one dares to investigate if the infamous mythological creatures truly reside in the waters that span their coast... all until art's curiosity gets the best of him. what's the point of being wary of something if it doesn't truly exist? he'll quickly come to learn that some legends are based in fact, not fiction.

patrick zweig ・゜゜・．bones and all. you knew patrick was the same as you the moment your eyes met; you don't live with something like vampirism your entire life and not know how to spot it in others. still, with patrick came understanding, and with understanding came connection. still, it doesn't help to soothe the ache that's left whenever your true nature manages to slip out, but patrick would never hold something like that against you. with you both being vampires, there's nothing guaranteed for the two of you in terms of safety and security, and patrick would never forgive himself if you got hurt. everything he does— every thought, every action, every unnecessary breath from lungs that don't require air— is for you.

patrick zweig ・゜゜・．post-full-moon blues. patrick's always a bit irritable and clingy after the full moon leaves its toll on his body, so his routine of trudging in at the wee hours of the morning is all but commonplace at this point. just because it was patrick underneath all the fur, teeth, and claws didn't mean that he was any better than the overactive golden retriever that belonged to the grocer in town, and that fact is all the more apparent when he comes in smelling like the woods, dirt, and wet dog (not that you'd ever tell him that). but sleep disturbances and handsy touches aside...he's had a long night. give him a little break.

tashi duncan ・゜゜・．staking her claim. most vampires weren't dumb enough to encroach on what tashi's claimed as hers— not when she's been around for as long as she has. but when some fledgling vampire at the club she's taken you to puts his hands on her human... it's more than enough to make the vampiress seethe. maybe she should have chosen some other place to take you to— somewhere older, cleaner, and that served more dignified vampires like herself who understood their kind's customs. tashi doesn't share, nor does she ever plan to, and she's more than willing to prove that for all to see.

got a request? go ahead and leave em here :) THANK YOU GUYS SO SO MUCH FOR FOR 7.2K! that number is so crazy i'm still processing it... thank you thank you thank you!!!! these were so much fun to make omg especially the patrick ones... patrick zweig "bones and all"... definitely hope i can make some more bots like this in the future! shoutout to 🥧 anon fr and juliana and diya and lee and the countless other anons who send requests both on here and on my request form... u all do the most and keep this thing going lol. love you guys! <333333

[karofsky]

Nandermo is canon. Full stop.

They’re openly, irrevocably in love with each other. They have shown time and time again that their devotion to each other will always come first. Nandor’s codependency is suffocating and Guillermo’s inability to adjust to human society is because he’s never actually wanted to. Everything has always been about him refusing to move on from Nandor, because he never has wanted to, but was always too scared to admit it to himself. Nandor has called him on it, and finally we’ve seen him accept that his place is with the vamps, and beside Nandor.

Nandor who doesn’t WANT romance. He wants companionship. He plays the song and dance because it’s a fun game, and because it’s kept him from admitting just how much Guillermo means to him. His sense of true love was always muddled in what others had and what others thought he needed, and not what he actually wanted. He wants his family, and he wants the one person he genuinely, canonically believes fate brought him to. He understands that in all nearly 800 years of his life, everything was bringing him to Guillermo. He’s told him that. Loving Guillermo is his purpose— the one thing he’s always been actually searching for.

Guillermo who equally has been trying to to force himself into a box. “If my loyalty isn’t tied to getting what I want then what is it.” Guillermo who had a whole year to himself, and another year on top of it telling himself that he was in love with a man who he only told lies to. Freddie was only ever a distraction the same way Marwa was. He tricked himself into believing this was the life he wanted, the romance he wanted, and it all predictably fell apart when his inability to give up Nandor got in the way.

Paul Simms and the writers, since season three, have only ever treated them with care. They’ve openly called attention to the fact that it’s a love story, and a fucked up one. They’ve also openly said that it will never be what most people want out of a romance. For years. That doesn’t change the fact that they’ve now made it canonically clear that these two characters are soulmates. They are not platonic, they are not Two Besties, they are not purely familial. They are two neutron stars that are locked by gravity to one another, who only ever will be locked to one another, and will crash and burn and die together. They are that weird, homoerotic, fucked up, “what’s up with those two” relationship that we’ve always called them, and now they’ve openly accepted to one another.

A kiss would be great. They deserved a funny little sex scene. We aren’t going to get them, and that doesn’t make it any less queer, or any less of a canon love story, because for the first time, I’m finally seeing the weird, unconventional, fucked up queer romances that I, in my own queer life, have always had or wanted. I love so strongly and so fiercely and so loyally, and it’s often unspoken. The people who are important to me I keep with me for my life, even long after they leave. I don’t need my love to look like what people expect, or tick off boxes of What A Relationship Is. My romance is in that devotion and yearning for closeness and companionship.

Fall in love with your best friend and feel exactly no pressure to change anything about it (I have). Have crushes and flings that are fun for fun sake, or end messy because you get in too deep, or things just don’t work out and That’s Life (I do). Be devoted to your friends like you are your partners, make out with whoever you want, allow yourself to blur the lines of your relationships to what you and those relationships want to be. And if you like the structure of a classic romance, and enjoy said song and dance, that’s fine too. But please ask yourself why, when looking at other relationships that don’t, that you consider those less valid in your eyes. Why do you turn your nose up at those who refuse to see the love and see the queerness, and then you yourself look that love and queerness in the eye, and say “it’s just not enough, though.” A love and romance not being for you does not make it any less valid as a love and romance. In fact most people probably should not want what Nandermo have at all.

But Nandermo are it for each other. They’ve now accepted it. They have so much time (as little or as long as they physically have) together to figure out what else they want in their relationship. After 15 years they both are FINALLY on the same page. Wherever they go next is up to them, and I’m so thankful that they are looking to leave that open-ended. Because those that know, KNOW. I know it, the characters know it, the writing team knows it, Harvey and Kayvan know it. If people want to convince themselves it’s purely platonic love, that’s on them, but everyone who has watched six seasons and seen, canonically, EVERYTHING, has seen it for a reason. The love is written, and the love has been addressed, now conclusively. Nandor and Guillermo are in love with each other, they know they are in love with each other, and they know they’ll never have a love like this outside of each other.