#chris x claire

[ultimateanna]

Resident Evil CODE: Veronica

[daily-leon]

[eggnogtoast]

hire this man to find your missing brother

[valenfield-inspo]

Chris Redfield and Jill Valentine greeting and guiding visitors at Universal Studios' Biohazard: Night of Heroes in Japan. It's an immersive live-action event as part of the park's annual Halloween Horror Nights. Footage from ri_xiah

[delphi-shield]

OLD FOLKS HOME ↪ age gap hcs

the people you love & the shit they do that reminds you of the dreaded Gap (tm). characters included: leon kennedy, chris redfield, jill valentine, claire redfield, rebecca chambers no warnings to speak of. remember kids, if you're gonna date people in their 30s and 40s, you're gonna have different cultural contexts and, most likely, different senses of humor.

Leon is eight levels of irony deep. He started doing Old Guy Shit just to mess with you, and now it's all come full circle. 

It turns out he actually likes watching the weather channel. He’s monitoring storms that are miles and miles away from you, pointing out the feeder bands like it’s some kind of sporting event. 

He's genuinely invested in Ice Road Truckers. He asks you to TiVo it for him when he's gone. You do not have TiVo. In fact, you're pretty sure no one still has TiVo. 

Or you were, until Leon once again committed to the bit and got TiVo.

Really, genuinely annoying about old movies, actors, and directors.

”What do you mean you don’t know who Robert Redford is? The Candidate? Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid? C’mon. He was even in an episode of The Twilight Zone. You’ll know him when you see him.”

At least you get movie dates out of it.

Movie dates that he will pepper with trivia about the film, by the way. You don't need the commentary track. He is the commentary.

I'm so, so sorry about this. 🤪 is his favorite emoji. I know. I'm sorry.

Chris cannot fucking hear. To be honest, I think most of them have some degree of hearing loss - but Chris in particular seems to have very subjective hearing loss.

Yes, you were just having a full-fledged conversation. No, he didn’t hear you ask him to take out the trash. He didn’t forget, he just didn’t hear you. Sorry, you were standing on his right - come on, you know that’s his bad side.

Explains basic technology to you because he’s not sure if you know what it is. Then, in the same breath, crams in so many military acronyms he may as well be reciting the alphabet. Does not explain the acronyms.

Like, yeah, Chris. I know what a landline is. Dial-up internet, too. Now, what the fuck is an ORE?

Have you ever gotten ‘ok’ in response to a nude? You’re about to. Completely demoralizing, by the way.

He didn't know you wanted him to compose a poem dedicated to your beauty, okay? He tries to get better, but winds up sending shit like 'wow 👍'

Does the dad thing where he insists he's not interested in watching what's on TV and then stands with his hands on his hips in the middle of the living room, enthralled by the show.

Jill does not understand your music. She will not make an attempt to understand your music. If you see her tapping her foot to the beat, no you do not. She is not interested in expanding her musical horizons.

She only bought you tickets to that concert because she knew you would love it. She only went with you because you’re cute when you’re so into this stuff. She only bought that t-shirt because it would be a good souvenir, and eventually, a good grease rag.

Generalized distrust of social media. Do not show her a tiktok. She will ignore the video and lecture you about data safety. Jill, please. Just watch the fucking cat video.

And then she turns around and opts in to literally everything on the McDonald's app.

If there’s a rewards program, she’s in. Already sold. Didn’t even read the fine print. All that shit she was telling you about how you need to be more careful is right out the window for some free fries.

Anything for the thrill of a good deal. If she had more time on her hands, she would be couponing.

Buys in bulk. No, it doesn't matter if the two of you could not physically eat that much rice. It's cheaper to buy it like this. It's fine. It's good for you.

Gotta stock up on non-perishables, too. You gotta be prepared in case something happens. "Better to have it and not need it than to need it and not have it."

Claire cannot stop shopping from QVC. She's in the kitchen with David. It Takes Two with Mary and Sandra? Wrong. It actually takes three. Mary, Sandra, and Claire.

Infomercials have got her by the throat. You have so many gadgets and gizmos around your home that are just collecting dust.

Gets wine drunk and goes online shopping. Legitimately does not remember what she’s bought.

Absolutely will not let you open the packages. (“Some of this stuff could be for you, you know.” “Claire, last time it was a 10,000 count package of googly eyes.” “And I used all 10,000. You still haven’t found them all.”)

Uses every piece of technology until it’s about to fall apart. Absolutely not interested in having the latest and greatest. She’s one of those people who insists that as long as her phone can make calls and send texts, she doesn’t need a new one.

Speaking of texts. Somehow, she got it into her head that a read receipt is equivalent to a reply. She doesn't get what the problem is. You know she saw your text. Why does she have to reply?

Genuinely doesn't mean anything malicious by it - but also, if you did that to her, you would never hear the end of it.

Rebecca legitimately has facebook humor. They all have some degree of facebook humor, but she's got it the worst. 

Will blow up your notifications tagging you in shit that is just straight up not funny. I’m talking full on tagging you with “😂😂😂”

Unironically sent you a minion meme once.

It's not that she's disconnected. She teaches undergrads. She knows what’s in, even if it’s only from the periphery. It’s just that she doesn’t care. She has no interest in keeping up with trends just for the sake of it. She’s so used to being the youngest person in the room and having to keep up expectations that she just absolutely does not care anymore. She's glad she's not one of the kids anymore.

If it made her laugh it made her laugh, her enjoyment isn’t shackled by feelings of shame!!

If you have a group chat on any platform with your friends please invite her. She's just happy to be included. She'll make a discord if she has to, and she'll brag about it to her students.

Yeah, she says pupper and doggo. She does. Look at her.

[xopinkroses]

Sleeping with the RE boys + girls (SFW)♥

Summary; How the RE boys (Chris and Leon) and girls (Jill and Claire) sleep with their s/o. Warnings; nightmares, insomnia, sleeping issues

MASTERLIST🌸

Jill Valentine

Jill hides how sleep deprived she really is well, she hasn't had a genuine good nights sleep since before that night in the Spencer mansion. More often than not you'll be gently shaking her awake at her desk to guide her into bed for the night. Her sleep is plagued with nightmares and she clings to you tightly through the night, seeking you out both for comfort and to reassure herself that your still with her. Sometimes her whimpering and crying in her sleep will wake you up, but you never tell her when it happens-- you simply wrap your arms around her and run your fingers through her hair, whispering comforting words into her ear until she settles down for the night.

Chris Redfield

Chris has a rigid sleep schedule that he follows religiously and never strays from, no excuses. Shower at 9pm, in bed by 9:30pm and asleep for 10pm-- wake up at 5am the next morning. During the night his burly arms will slowly creep around you, pulling you into his chest and burying his face into the back of your neck. He doesn't snore but you can feel a deep rumbling in his chest as he softly murmurs in his sleep. He's like a bear, holding you and keeping you warm and safe through the night. He has nightmares occasionally but tends to sleep through them, his grip around you tightening, like he's protecting you from the monsters in his dreams.

Claire Redfield

Claire is a cuddlebug and practically koala-bears herself to you at bedtime, watching a TV show or scrolling through yours phone and talking until sleep takes you both. She snores, and will deny it vehemently, and tends to toss and turn-- whining and grumbling to herself as she twists herself into a pretzel, getting tangled in the bedding as she cuddles into you. Sometimes she sleepwalks, usually only when she's stressed though, and will lumber around the apartment until she either comes back to bed on her own or crashes on the couch. If you wake up to her sleepwalking, she'll ramble incoherently to you as you gently coax her back into bed.

Leon Kennedy

Leon has to be exhausted to get a decent nights sleep so he usually goes for a late night run to clear his mind and tire himself out. By the time he's back and showered you are already half asleep in bed. He's a big guy but he's easily able to slip into bed beside you without jostling you too much and drapes one of his muscular arms over your waist and presses a kiss to your shoulder. It's late and he's tired, he has work early in the morning, but it'll still take him a while to fall asleep-- and when he does he's restless, nuzzling into you and loosening and tightening his arms around you, furrowing his brow as his dreams are infested by horrible memories. He talks in his sleep, usually quite clearly too, and you have sworn yourself to secrecy that you'll never repeat any of it. Sometimes he repeats past conversations, or say your name and tell you he loves you, or he'll just quietly ramble about whatever has been on his mind lately. He rarely wakes up during the night but when he does he's careful not to wake you as well.

~ 🖤

[messenger-of-babel]

Voicemails

Summary: When complications arise on his mission, all he has is one phone call back to you. (Death Island! Leon x reader)

Word Count: 2.1K

Notes: It really does end here, huh? 🥹 This is the last post for this month. We have officially finished Angstober 2024. Thank you to everyone who liked, commented, reblogged, followed, and sent me things to my inbox. It's going to be weird not writing for you all every day, but you'll still see me around. I'm going to take a small break and write in the background, get through requests and stuff. I'm moving house and graduating at the same time so I might not post a whole lot till I'm settled again, but then you can count on me for more than angst!

General warnings for language use, spoilers for Death Island if you haven't seen it (you should it's quite funny), and a mildly OOC Leon but we can all be saps sometimes. Warping the events of the movie to my own benefit.

Enjoy our last post of this month, sweethearts~

RiRi xx

━━━━━━━━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"You wanna make a call?" Chris grunts, looking down at him. Leon looks up at him, vision blurry and pain radiating through his body. His neck stings from where the microdrone bit him, and he can no longer feel anything from his thighs down, just a numb tingle. He has to consciously remind himself to breathe, in through the nose and out through the mouth.

"You got- you got a way?" he rasps back, eyes scrunching in confusion. Chris nods, the bigger man bucking slightly against the cell wall he's leaning against.

"Left- left pocket." he grits out. "Claire got the signal through before we got bit. It's only strong enough for one call, then Dylan's framework will probably patch it."

Leon sighs, head hitting the rusted bars of Alcatraz. This had been another run of the mill mission, find the missing scientist selling government secrets, pack him up and ship him back to the government to be trialled at court. In the true fashion of his 'run of the mill missions', nothing went according to that plan and veered off into a clusterfuck as usual. The BSAA had been involved chasing their own leads, and he had run into Jill in the sewers running from zombies. the plague that seemed to follow him like a shadow ever since he left Raccoon as a young and very traumatised cop.

He was supposed to get in and out, wrap it up so he could come home to you like he promised. As he sat there writhing, he wondered what the look on your face would be if he wasn't able to make it to the cruise that you had both planned. You had lobbied both him and the DSO for a holiday, and after many angry letters and snatching the phone out of his hand to yell at his supervisor, you had succeeded in getting him two months off. Without hesitation you had booked the both of you on a cruise, shushing him every time he had tried to protest.

If he was being honest, just sleeping at home would have been enough. He could barely remember the last time that he had sat down or stopped for a moment. The days that he was at the office or on a mission blurred together so often that he was beginning to forget what colour you had both decided to paint the kitchen, making him falter when coworkers made small talk with him in the staff room. Which side of the bed you preferred to sleep on, what bills needed to be paid first, whether the spare bedroom was being turned into an office or a workshop or not. It was when his forgetfulness led him to forget what month it was and being blindsided to your own anniversary that he finally snapped out of it.

You had been sitting on the porch steps dressed in your finery, watery eyes looking up at him as he pulled into the driveway, your knees pulled to your chest. He had jumped from the car like you were shot, the realisation of what he had done thrumming hard in his chest. "I'm so sorry" he had murmured into your hair, holding you tight. "I am so so sorry."

You had just sniffled in response and eventually gave him a weak hug back, and he clung to that like a lifeline. He swore that he would never fuck up like that again, and he intended to keep that promise.

So, he had relented to the cruise vacation, telling himself that he would be able to relax and unwind on the seas and out of service of work. They could call another agent for once, he wanted to focus on nothing but the smile you wore as you got to carry out the couple things he felt he had denied you your entire relationship. Getting to use the swim up bar, taking photos together, dressing in matching clothes for the cheesy cruise quiz nights. If that was what you wanted, that is what he was going to give you. Besides, it gave him a chance to relish in you again.

You, who had cancelled the wedding of your dreams to get married at the courthouse with him when he got called away suddenly and you weren't sure if you would see him again. You had been married within hours with the rings he had picked and you in the finest you could find on such short notice. He had thought you looked stunning, even if the lighting was the harsh LED of the courthouse and not candles like you had wanted.

You, who had put up with months of him being gone, not knowing if he was dead or alive. Who had to stay up late tracking the news for crumbs of his whereabouts, only able to make guesses to where he might have been assigned. Every death, every bioterrorist attack overseas carrying the possibility that Leon's body was among those being pulled from the carnage.

You, who he was calling right now with the jacked cell phone from Chris's pocket, dial tone droning on.

Leon had been stung last, used as nothing more than an example to show off the latest weapon in the bioterror market. Yet he was losing feeling fast, much faster than Chris or even Claire struggling in the other cell. It was like his atoms were screaming at him, writhing in him at a molecular level. Breathing felt like it was through a damp cloth, lungs having to work twice as hard to suck oxygen into his lungs. His eyelids were struggling to stay awake and fight off the black curtains that floated in the corners. he could see the way that the others looked at him, with pity and with concern. As soon as he had caught the eye of Chris, saw the flicker of fear cross the usually confident man's face, he knew that he was reacting worse than all of them.

So here he was, heart in his throat as he prepared to tell you the words he hadn't been expecting to say when he left that morning. When the line doesn't pick up he curses, waiting for the tone. He wasn’t going to waste his chance.

"Hi! If I haven't picked up, I can't come to the phone right now. If you leave a message, I'll get back to you as soon as I can. Please wait for the beep, thank you!"

He smiles to himself at the chipper tone of your voice, sounding heaven sent even through the phone. When he hears the tone he takes a deep breath, as big as he can and puts a fake smile on his face. He hopes that it makes his tone come out just a little sweeter for you, even though he knows that you'll be worried regardless.

"Hey, Sweetheart." he starts, voice raspy. "I'm sorry to be calling you like this. I just wanted to call to hear your voice. I-I missed you. I know you didn’t pick up, so you're probably busy. Now don't call me back immediately, I... won’t be able to pick up for a while. I just...damnit I wanted to just hear you." He grits out, head falling against the bars as he loses strength in his neck. He catches eyes with Chris, the older man's eyes misting over as he looks down at him before he turns his head away, the most privacy he can give him in the situation.

"I just wanted to call to let you know that I love you...and I miss you." he begins again. With his eyes closed the words come easier, the image of you flitting into his mind's eye. You look at him in his spectral vision with a smile, encouraging him to go on. He feels his chest ease, like he's actually talking to you, and the both of you are the only ones in the room. "I know you're going to worry. I know this doesn't sound good-" he grits his teeth against another hot flash of pain. "And... it’s not." he finishes. "I want to tell you…that I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I don't think I'm gonna make it home tonight, baby. I... I might not make it back from this." he tries to chuckle, but the sound is dry, and the effort hurts his chest. "Things got bad here, and it's not looking good. I think- I think it ends here, honey. If I don't make it just...just, please look after yourself."

He takes a shaky breath, and the silence of everyone around him is deafening. The scene is oddly private and uncomfortable for the others in the vicinity, while the usually ever-energetic man known as Leon delivers his verbal will. "I know you won’t want to go, but go on that cruise. You worked hard for it, and you were so excited. I wanted to go swimming with you, fall asleep by the pool and pretend it was the honeymoon I owe you. So, I want you to still go on it. Even if I don't come back...I'll ask the big man above to let me hang around long enough to do it with you, even if you won't be able to see me. I made a promise remember? No more missing big things." he whispers into the phone.

His throat is beginning to hurt, like speaking around a sharp lump every time he formed a word. "And the house is yours, it should go into your name. The car, everything, you'll have it all. I just...I just wish it could have been different, you know?" he says into the receiver, that has begun to waver by his cheek. "But it is what it is, and I guess it finally caught up to me. I'm sorry I was such a shitty husband." he says, a light tremor in his voice. "I wish I had come home to you more, not left the bed cold. I wish I could have made you more dinners and more breakfasts in bed, just to show you how much I loved you. I love you. I love you so much it hurts. I never told it to you enough, or managed to even put into actions just how much you mean to me, but I do. You mean everything, sweetheart." he chokes into the phone, a small smile on his face. "I love you more than anything, so...so don't think anything else, okay? This isn't your fault. It never was. You were the best thing that ever happened to me, you hear me? So you pick yourself up when I'm gone," he gasps out, hand beginning to waver. "You put yourself back in that saddle, and you show the world just how strong you are. Show them the person I fell in love with." he says with a smile, before breaking into a fit of painful coughs.

"Don't stay up, sweetheart. Get to bed early. I miss you, more than you'll ever know." he coughs out into the receiver before his body can't hold him up anymore and he slides down the bars until his cheek is pressing into the concrete, hand falling to his side and phone clattering against the stone. He can hear the tone end, and the automated whoosh sound as the voicemail sends. With bleary eyes he can make out the turned head of Claire, looking down at him with wobbling lips and tear-filled eyes.

"Look after 'em, hey?" he rasps out, pain in his chest stabbing as the black curtains begin to slide across his vision. Claire nods, and he can hear Chris grunt in the background. Leon falls into an unconsciousness shortly after, the smiling image of you the last thing he holds close to him as the blackness swallows him completely. As his body stills, a small smile is frozen on his face, the arrogant half tilted smirk he so loved to give you.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

Typing away at your computer, you work till your eyes go square from the computer screen. You wipe a hand over your face as you review the spreadsheet that you're working on, leaning back to take a sip of your coffee. Your music blasts in your headphones, and for a quick break you pull up the checklist you've made for your upcoming holiday.

You're so engrossed in your work that you're unaware as your phone screen glows to life beside you, message popping across your notification bar.

You have (1) new voicemails.

[sweets3rial]

i wanted it to be you. (II)

ch. 1 // ch. 2

di!leon x fem!reader

summary: when Leon thinks things are too late, he gets a friendly reminder that things are never too late.

tags: angst/comfort, happy endings, fluff, wedding ceremony, marriage, vows, talks about future, small mention of overbearing in-laws, reader having many second thoughts, drunk letters/vows, Chris and Claire Redfield mentioned, runaway bride, panic/anxiety attacks, Leon loves you, time skips, teasing, smut, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it before ya' tap it)

warnings: panic and anxiety attacks

word count: 10.3K (yikes srry ya'll)

“my dream house?”

“yeah, tell me.” he urged, bumping your hip with his. you looked up into the sky, pondering his question. it was a good question. you’d never thought of something like that before. you were so used to your two-bedroom and one-half-bathroom apartment.

“well, i want lots of greenery. like plants in every corner and in every room.” you began, using your spoon as a little wand as you spoke. “i also want a lot of warm lights, to give the house a nice welcoming vibe to it,”

he hummed, nodding as you finished each sentence. “i like earthy tones or nude tones, nice soft couches, and a stone fireplace. a big living room and a large dining room- y’know how in those movies where the rich sad family gathers for dinner and it’s very awkward and quiet?”

his eyebrows furrowed, “you want something like that?”

you chuckled, “no, but i want my dining room to look like that just less … sad.”

“i see, it’s like those where the father is at the end and the mother at the other end,”

“exactly,” you smiled wider. you picked a cherry floating atop your frozen yogurt, taking it by the stem and bringing it to his lips. he opened his mouth with an audible sound, wrapping his cold lips around the fruit and plucking it off the stem.

you flicked the stem out of your fingers and onto the street where it’ll be swept away in the wind and trampled on by those who walked by.

“i want a large backyard, with either a poo or just a large field of grass.” you smiled at the thought of walking out onto your porch as an old feeble woman to enjoy a cup of coffee as you stared out into your backyard to watch the sun set or rise. or even watch your future kids play with the family dog.

you never wanted to have kids. just the thought of splitting yourself in half while pushing out new life sent chills up your spine. but sometimes, the idea of holding a child to your chest and watching it grow. the idea of listening to them laugh and play, watching as they discovered new interests and learned new things, and being alive to discover the person they will become, doesn’t sound too bad.

“i want a balcony, one that stretches from one side of the house to the other. that way i can sit outside and i don’t know enjoy a nice cigarette.”

a laugh erupted from his chest at the thought of you only wanting a balcony to smoke a cigarette. but then that image warped into him watching you from the door smoking that cigarette. the wind blowing in your hair, the sun kissing your skin, your clothes flapping against your skin.

he imagined you’d be wearing a baggy shirt, maybe one of his shirts. the wind blowing up from the balcony would cause your shirt to cling to you. to your curves and the dips of your body, the purchase of your hips, and the slim of your waist.

you’d turn to him with your elbows leaned up against the railing behind you, cigarette between the plump skin of your lips as you beckoned him over to join you.

“i had a friend,” you started, interrupting his small daydream.

“her parents had this master bedroom. when you walked in, to your left was a sliding door that led to the balcony overlooking her backyard, and then to the right was a couple’s bathroom,” you sighed at the memory, you envied her.

one, because her parents were happily married and slept in the same bed. two, because she had a big house with a large backyard. and three, because she was happy. she lived luxuriously in her big house, she was spoiled, and her parents doted on her. her life was perfect.

yours, not so much.

“her mom occupied one sink with her makeup and her jewelry, and her dad occupied the other with cologne and little figures,” you gulped down a lump in your throat, looking up at him to see him already looking at you. you could see the sad look on his face. the look of pity and sadness, it left a stab in your heart knowing that you probably ruined his night for him.

“i want that.” your words left your throat with a small croak. you weren’t just talking about a couples bathroom with a jacuzzi bathtub but also to be happy. to live in a large house, to be happy with your future husband and kids, to enjoy luxurious jewelry and clothes.

his heart hurt at the look in your eyes, the yearning and the hope. he could see the pain as you spoke about your friend, even if you were smiling as if it was a good memory. he wanted to say, i can give you that.

he wanted to give you that. not only for you but also for himself, that way when you beckon him over as you smoke your cigarette he can join your side. his daydream began to play again; as he joined your side, you’d put your cigarette out and wrap your arms around his torso with a sigh.

he could smell the shampoo in your damp hair and the lotion you lathered onto your skin — along with a hint of his cologne from the baggy t-shirt that belonged to him. the wind was nice and fresh, a cooling breeze along with the warm morning sun. he’d shut his eyes and hold you to his chest, slowly swaying you back and forth as he enjoyed the warmth from the sun along with the warmth from your body.

“that sounds nice,” he looked down at you, “peaceful,”

you smiled up at him, licking your sticky lips, “yeah, it does,”

your smile slowly faded as you began to doze off, he was very … pretty. the way his dirty blonde hair framed his face so perfectly. golden strands that are soft like silk and fluffy like cotton. his eyes, how they gazed into yours, pulling you in deep like the tide of the ocean and drowning you into his being.

they say the eyes are the window to the soul. when someone furrows a brow, you can tell their soul is confused or troubled. when a tear swells you know their soul is sad. when their pupil dilates you know their soul is in love.

there is a ring around his pupils, a ring of blue — the color of his irises. his plump lips are agape, sucking in breaths and letting them go. his lashes flutter with every blink, his eyes trailing every inch of your face, taking every detail of you into memory.

you did the same. scanning over his dimpled cheeks, his high cheekbones, his strong brow bones, his long lashes, the tips of his cold ears, and the window to his soul. all of it.

“you’re so beautiful,” his words came out almost in a drunken whisper. his brain wasn’t able to process any word that left his mouth until it did.

the blood that pumped into your veins instantly ran to your face. your cheeks heating up as your eyes widened, you looked back down at your melted froyo — hoping that taking a bite would hide away your hot cheeks. “thank you,” you mumbled trying to fight back the smile creeping up onto your sticky lips.

“of course uh- back to your dream house-“

“oh right! um-“

------

a living room with comfortable couches and a coffee table in the middle sitting, in front of a large stone fireplace. a kitchen with off-white cabinets, black tile floors, and an island with black marble counters and a deep sink. a dining room with a large table with seven chairs and a runner underneath.

plants, everywhere. in the front, in the large backyard, hanging from the roof, in every room, and in every corner.

large windows that faced the sunset and sunrise, casting down their warmth and triumph into the house to illuminate every corner without a single flip of a light switch. warm lights, in the kitchen, the living room, the dining room, the hallways, everywhere.

a patio out front and out back, a balcony that stretched across the back of the house. five rooms, a guest room, three kids’ rooms, and a master bedroom. a master bedroom where when you walked in, to the left were the sliding doors to the balcony, and to the right a couples bathroom and a walk-in closet.

though, it wasn’t a home. there were drapes over the furniture to keep them from collecting dust. there were no plants just empty corners. the windows were shut and no one lived there.

the rooms were empty, with nothing but carpet and walls. it wasn’t a home. it had no life, no family, no giggles and happiness. it was simply just a house.

“sir, i just need you to sign here and then we’ll lease the house.”

he straightened his posture and blinked away the dryness in his eyes. he looked over at the man, he was about his height. he wore a fancy suit, his mustache was nice and jelled up, his hair slicked back and he smelt of expensive cologne.

he took one last look around the house, his heart aching. if he closed his eyes, he could hear you in the kitchen, chopping vegetables and listening to your music or your podcasts. he could hear your voice calling him from your bedroom. he could hear a dog maybe the giggles of children. but that was just a figment of his imagination.

he was standing in the middle of a house. your dream house. the one you told him about so many years ago. back then, he would’ve said ‘i can give you that’, but he hesitated. would that have made you stay? if he said he was putting all his money into building this house for you.

buying the furniture and the tiling and marble necessary to make it happen. hiring construction workers to add on a balcony and a back porch. would all his effort … would it have made you stay?

“who’s getting married?” the realtor asked, pointing at his boutonniere with his pen. he blinked, once again brought out of his daze.

“uh my … ex-girlfriend,” he grumbled awkwardly. the realtor jumped back a little, a small strand of his slicked-back hair falling out.

“oh,” was all he could say as he too joined him in looking around the house. the real estate agent could tell that this man wasn’t looking to live here by himself, there were so many rooms, rooms for a family. a couples bathroom and a shared walk-in closet.

the realtor sighed, looking up at the man. his eyes were bloodshot red, most likely from crying or being up all night. the bags under his eyes were dark and heavy. he was holding a flask of whiskey and his posture remained slouched.

“Mr. Kennedy,” the realtor clicked his pen and hooked it back onto his suit pocket. he stuffed the paperwork under his arm and puffed out his chest. he was losing business by doing this but he’d rather see a man happy to sell his house rather than sad to sell his house.

“i was young once,” he began, standing next to Leon as he dozed off. “i too had a girlfriend, she was the girl of my dreams,” the man chuckled at the memory.

“we were young and very, very stupid,”

Leon’s head slowly turned towards the man beside him, he found that the realtor was looking out the window with a smile on his face which caused his mustache to turn upwards.

“i was poor and she was wild, i wanted to give her a proper life. so i worked and i worked to the point that i’d tire myself and i barely had time for her.”

Leon let his eyes fall to the ground, this story was sounding a bit too familiar to him. not having time for each other led to miscommunication and arguments all the time. it was not a story that he wished to retell.

“so she left me, one day i came home and she was gone.” the man sniffled a bit, watching a bird fly out of one of the trees that sat on the front lawn. the bird reminded him of her, his songbird, always singing and so loud. though, he loved it when she sang and tweeted like a bird.

her voice was always like music to his ears anyway.

“i crashed her wedding like a fool and she told me that she would’ve been happy getting married without a big ring and a big house. that she would’ve been happy with how things were,” the man let out a sigh, swallowing the lump in his throat.

“so, my word to you is…don’t let it be too late. if you love her and hopefully she still loves you then … make it work.” the man placed a hand on Leon’s shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze. a sign of support for the young man since he too has been in Leon’s position once.

“it is never too late to be what you wanted to be,”

'i wanted it to be you.'

your voice replayed in his head. he could still hear the tears clogged in your throat and he could still see the look in your eye. he could still smell your perfume and feel your lips on his skin. it isn’t too late. he wasn’t too late.

Leon slowly began to nod his head, building up the courage to do something anything. he knew it was time to let you go, that it was over and done.

'do you still love me?'

'goodbye, Leon.'

those were the last words you said to him. he replays the sound in his voice every night and it keeps him awake at night. he tosses and turns, missing the warmth of your body and the feeling of your skin. he feels selfish, yearning for someone who wants nothing to do with him. someone who is getting married in a few hours.

but you aren’t just anyone. dare say, you are the love of his life.

“thank you, Mr. Gudzynski.” Leon smiled at the man, taking one last chug of the whiskey in his flask before making his way out the door. Chris stood there waiting for him, leaning up against his car with a cigarette hanging from his lips as he stared down at his phone.

upon hearing Leon’s foot crush the rocks beneath him, he looked up. he stomped out his cigarette as he blew out the last puff of smoke.

“how’d it go?” Chris asked, rolling his shoulders to let the sleeves of his suit adjust.

“did you just put out your cigarette on fresh cement?”

“i guess you sold it then,” Chris chuckled dryly.

Leon took a moment to reply, looking at the porch behind him. it was empty, just plain wooden slabs. he knew how much you wanted a patio, this was your house after all.

completely inspired by you. every corner and every detail of this house you had spoken to Leon years ago. he made your dream a reality, though you'll never know that.

“i couldn’t,”

Chris turned to Leon, his frame tensing up, “uh you what?”

“i couldn’t sell it, i just…” Leon ended his sentence with a shrug and much to his dismay, Chris nodded understandably.

“i knew you wouldn’t be able to,” Chris sighed, opening the door to his car.

“what?” Leon said with a lift of his brow.

“just get in,”

the whole drive to the church, Leon could feel his body growing heavier and heavier. he was nervous. unsure of what he should do or say? will he have the time? he was constantly wiping his hands onto his pants, trying to wipe the nerves and sweat away.

he was staring out the window blankly, bouncing his leg and biting on the inside of his cheeks.

~

’stop that,’

‘stop what?’

your fingers reached up to tap his cheek, ‘stop biting your cheeks, you’re making me anxious’

he stopped instantly, licking over the skin that he was just biting at. you sighed, standing in front of him as you fixed his tie. you worked with straightening the silk fabric and tightening it around his neck — not too much.

he looked down at you and his nerves instantly eased. your face was relaxed, your breathing slows, your lashes fluttered with every single blink, and god you were glowing. he couldn’t help but smile, he knew he had no reason to be nervous if you were right by his side.

and here you were; fixing his tie and smoothing out his suit.

‘you got this, it’s just a simple speech, we rehearsed it many times,’ you leaned up onto your tippy toes to place a kiss on his chin. ‘and i’ll be right in the audience supporting you,’

~

his lips curled into a small smile at the memory, he would’ve for sure embarrassed himself if it wasn’t for you being by his side. he remembers it clear as day, standing up on that podium as he received his award, his hands were shaking and his vision was blurry.

he was trying to read off of his speech but he couldn’t. that was until he found you in the room and then suddenly, you two were in the living room of your shared apartment. you were sitting on the couch with takeout in your lap. as he practiced his speech, you’d slurp your noodles or take a bite of your fried rice as you pretended to be a high government official.

once his eyes found yours in the large crowd, you smiled up at him mouthing the words; ‘you got this,’

“we’re here,” Chris sighed aloud. Leon looked up to see many familiar faces walking up the steps into the church, hand in hand and with smiles on their faces. all dressed in black suits and dresses, a simple and traditional color.

you were never a religious woman, you weren’t the type to go to church every Sunday or pray before every meal. but here you were getting married in a church, under the eye of god as if you hadn’t slept with another man just a few months ago.

your eyes were stuck on the cross hanging above you. the hairstylist you hired was busy touching up your hair, your makeup artist was powdering your nose and adding more highlight to your cheekbones consistently saying the same words, ‘make sure you smile that way you can really pop.’

you’d give her a small silent nod, whatever made her happy.

you haven’t smiled once. it was your wedding day. after months of trying on dresses, trying cake flavors, sending out invitations, and picking out bridesmaids. the day was here and you couldn’t smile. you’ve been sitting in this chair for hours, getting your hair and makeup done.

your bridesmaids would come in screaming excitedly while waving around bottles of champagne. you put on a fake smile with fake laughs and giggles but your mind was elsewhere.

you were thinking of a lot. your future after today, losing your last name, kids, and in-laws. but mostly you were thinking about him. it was hard, writing his name down on an envelope and sending it to him through the mail.

your fiancee, soon-husband, didn’t know about you and Leon. he believes you two are coworkers and nothing more. acquaintances or even strangers. he didn’t know the deep love you held for that man.

he was excited to see that you were inviting the other agents. he felt special. as if him being married to a D.S.O agent would make him a better tech or get him a promotion.

it was so hard sending him that invitation. most of the other invitations were given in person unless the guests lived far away. you wondered if he would come, part of you hoped he did and the other part of you hoped he didn’t.

“it’s almost time,” you looked to your side to see your uncle standing in the doorway. you chose him to walk you down the aisle, he’s been here for you more than your father. he was there for your daddy-daughter dances, for your graduation. elementary, middle school, and high school.

you stood up from your chair, smoothing out your dress. your dress was itchy and heavy, the pins in your hair stabbed your scalp with every movement, your makeup felt heavy and cakey, and your heels hurt. everything felt wrong.

“are you ready?” you looked at your uncle, a smile on his face as he looked at you. that was when tears welled in your eyes and you shook your head, suddenly you were a little girl again, crying to him when you didn’t get a toy you wanted.

your uncle’s face contorted with worry as he rushed to your side.

“hey, what’s wrong?”

you sobbed, throwing your head down so your tears wouldn’t ruin your makeup. you grabbed the back of your chair, trying to find your words and your breath but it was hard with the corset constricting your every movement.

“i can’t do it, i can’t go out there-“

“of course you can,” he reached over for a few napkins as his hand rubbed up and down your back, “i know it’s stressing, this is your big day, and your life is going to change after this.”

you shook your head again, pursing your lips together to keep another sob from leaving your lips.

“but this is the day you’ve been waiting for, you’ve stressed yourself out enough. after this, you get to enjoy your honeymoon and your house.”

you looked up at him, blinking away another tear. he smiled at you, taking the napkin to blot away the tears. you couldn’t help but think, only if he knew.

only if he knew where your heart truly lies. who your soul calls to. what you did, more specifically who you did. you couldn’t tell him. it was too late to tell anyone. what were you supposed to say? i slept with another man. quite frankly, the only man i’ve ever loved.

you’d be burned at the stake, by everyone in the church. especially, your mother-in-law.

so you sucked in a deep breath and stood up straight.

“okay,” you croaked, and you held the napkin to your tears. you hoped he wasn’t here, you really did. you knew if you made eye contact with him somewhere in the crowd, you would break.

so you linked arms with your uncle, standing up straight and putting a smile on your face. your uncle smiled back at you, giving your arm a small squeeze. your feet were already beginning to hurt and the minute the piano started your limbs began to shake.

your nerves were on edge, your palms were sweaty and you could barely control your breathing. you walked out of the small room you used to get ready and into the main hall. there were photographers, gasping at the sight of you.

gorgeous dress that made you look like a princess, the fabric along with your veil trailed behind you, leaving a path of your essence. instantly, camera shutters were beginning to go off. you gave the photographers a nervous smile and wave as you stood in front of the two large doors.

you looked up at the roof, naked baby angels danced above you, they were holding harps and chasing each other with smiles on their faces. clouds surrounded them along with doves. hints of gold were seen in the paint.

it was beautiful. architectural and just pure with grace. even if the paint was fading and cracking, it was the most beautiful thing you've seen today.

your uncle knocked at the doors, signaling whoever was inside that you were ready. when the doors opened you were met with gasps and the sound of people rising from their seats. you made eye contact with a few people both from your family and his.

you watched as a few covered their mouths in shock, their facial expressions softening in awe. you smiled at a few, keeping your head forward most of the time. your fiancee stood at the end with a wide smile on his face. his friends were giving him firm pats on the shoulder, demonstrating their support.

you smiled at him, pursing your lips as you let your eyes wander. to your left, in the second row, seated in the very first seat…there he was. he came. your face dropped upon seeing him, your knees suddenly felt weak, and a large pain erupted in your chest.

he stood with his hands folded in front of him. his lips were agape, his jaw hanging loose. his eyebrows were upturned in awe. your steps slowed a bit as you got closer to him. you wanted to see him one last time before it was too late.

in his mind, he was standing there at that altar instead of that bearded man. he was watching you walk down the aisle and you were smiling at him. you looked beautiful. god, that color always suited you. your makeup and hair were done beautifully, he’s never seen you this way — all dolled up.

it put his heart to a complete stop. he couldn’t focus on anything but you. your eyes were stuck on him as you passed by. he watched your smile fade as you both made eye contact and he felt a stab in his chest. for a second, he couldn’t breathe and he couldn’t blink. he was just frozen in time.

as you walked past him, your head fell to look at the ground. Leon too looked away, continuing to bite on the inside of his cheeks, this time he could taste blood. he shouldn’t be here. he shouldn’t watch this happen. he couldn’t. he couldn’t.

but he wanted to, today was special to you but it was the complete opposite to him.

he watched as you stood before your husband, a smile rising to your mouth as you gave him a small ‘hi’. Leon let his head drop to his lap, his leg was bouncing uncontrollably. he couldn’t do it. he couldn’t be here.

he was about to look up at Chris to tell him he had to go but he was interrupted when Chris put his hand on Leon's knee. when he looked at Chris, he was looking ahead. a toothpick between his lips and his eyes stuck ahead on you and your future husband.

he knew Chris was trying to convey something, probably 'calm the fuck down,' but also some type of support.

Chris knew today was hard for Leon. with each passing day that the wedding got closer, Leon has been sulking and slacking off during training. his flask was his best friend and so was his bed.

Chris was the only one who knew how deep Leon’s love ran for you. Chris was there during the nights Leon would stumble around drunk and depressed. he gave Leon a hand when he was at his lowest. he helped Leon get rid of his addiction. he got Leon a therapist.

he did a lot for Leon when you two split, same for you. Chris was like the older brother you never had, he was supportive and kind. he was always understanding. you were able to confide in him comfortably. you could sob on his shoulder and use him as a punching bag instead of Leon.

Chris saw both of you at your lowest points and he brought both of you back.

he did so much to bring you two back together but here he is; watching one get married while the other watches with tears in his eyes. Leon kept his head down, unable to face you and watch the scenery before him. the priest prompted you two to begin your vows and he was first.

there was a nervous smile on his face as he pulled out a folded piece of paper from his pocket. he unfolded the paper, his eyes flickering between you and the speech before him. he cleared his throat, facing the crowd.

“first and foremost, i want to thank everyone for being here; friends and family.” he cleared his throat once again, looking towards you. it made Leon’s stomach twist with jealousy as you smiled at him so lovingly. he also couldn’t stop admiring how beautiful you were. pure innocence and grace, well he knew you were far from innocent.

“and most of all my gorgeous wife-to-be,” your smile dropped into a simple lift of your lips. but slowly, you began to look around the crowd. your eyes landing on your family, your in-laws, and then Leon. from there, you stayed fixated on him.

you haven’t seen him so polished in so long. his suit was nicely tailored, sleek back with a white brooch. though his tie was crooked and he was chewing on the inside of his cheeks. his frantic leg bouncing stopped once he made eye contact with you. his body froze in a way, his breath caught in his throat.

he smiled at you, gently. the look in his eyes spoke for him, ‘you look beautiful,’ he said.

he tried to keep calm, for you. even though he was on the verge of a heart attack. even if he was terribly heart broken, he needed to be happy for you. today is your day.

you smiled back at him even wider, shying away from him with visible heat in your cheeks, ‘thank you,’ you said back, smoothing out the skirt of your dress. your fiancee’s speech fell on deaf ears, you were paying attention to everything else but him at the moment.

Leon sat right in your field of view. at the other side of the aisle, in the second row, towards the very end of the bench.

you sucked in a deep breath, your lips falling agape as you kept eye contact with him longer. suddenly, the feelings you wished to bury. the ones you’ve been trying to bury for years were coming back. it was like slowly drowning. you can see the surface still but as you sink deeper and deeper, it becomes blurry and you are forever trapped in the ocean beneath you.

his kisses, his touch, his love, his passion, his laugh, his smile, his hair, his teeth, his nose, the hair on his arms and legs, the scar on his shoulder, the mole on his neck — it was all coming back. he was coming back.

the happiness you felt when he would wake you up with gentle kisses to your neck and shoulder. the joy you felt walking into the kitchen to see him there making coffee, he hated coffee. he hated the feeling it left on your tongue. the bitter taste and the smell of your breath after taking a sip. he hated coffee but he still made it.

it made him feel like a normal person living in an apartment with his normal girlfriend.

the comfort you’d get when he’d hug you. the excitement you felt when he’d come home. the small things he did that aroused you to the point of insanity. the arguments…you even missed the petty arguments. arguments never lasted long. Leon hated arguing with you.

it would usually end up with him sleeping on the couch that night. then he’d wake up with a heavy weight on top of him. of course, it was you. or it would end up with him throwing you over his shoulder and locking you both in your shared bedroom together.

even if you two argued, you refused to be away from each other.

you were woken from your daydream by the wave of chuckles around the room. you joined in subconsciously, blinking your dry eyes and averting your attention away from Leon. meanwhile, he was gripping the pants of his suit with butterflies in his stomach. he couldn’t shake off this feeling.

the feeling of loss. the feeling that maybe it was too late.

your fiancee had finished his vows, folding up the paper and storing it back in his pocket. you looked up at you, a blush on his cheeks and sweat brimming at his forehead. you could see he was nervous, he was shaking — constantly rocking back and forth and itching at his beard.

you reached into your bra, pulling out your vows. you were so unprepared. you wrote your vows probably a few nights ago, drunk one too many drinks and elbow-deep in a bag of your favorite chips.

the minute you unfolded the paper, you knew you should’ve read it over.

‘To my beloved, Leon…’

you swallowed a lump in your throat, nervously looking between the paper, your fiancee, and Leon sitting in the crowd. you were drunk and wrote vows to the wrong man. no, it was to the right man. Leon was the right man. he always has been.

“um, to my beloved, future husband,” you began, your voice trembling and your throat aching. you read over the first line and you instantly felt tears swell up in your eyes, “i miss you, um,” your eyes flashed over to Leon.

“i miss you even if you’re right next to me. no words can summarize how much i love you, how much i burn and yearn for you every passing minute … every passing day.”

Leon felt his heart break into a million pieces right then and there. your eyes remained on him, only looking away to glance back down at your vows. were you … reading these to him? Leon swallowed a lump in his throat, his eyebrows upturning as he tried to hold himself together.

you were making up things as you went, your words completely different from what was really written down:

“i am glad to have you by my side,” i wish you were by my side, holding me and singing your cheesy songs in my ear.

“i am blessed to wake up to you every morning and suck in a deep breath of your essence and your being,” i miss waking up to you every morning, staying in bed for a few more hours just so i can watch you breathe and stir in your sleep.

“i was broken when you found me but you pieced me back together, slowly and patiently,” you broke me. we broke each other but every single piece of me will crawl back to you in the end. no matter how shattered i am.

a tear slipped down your cheek, you were beginning to choke up the more and more you read. it was getting hard to make things up and say those instead of reading what you wrote down. a full page confessing your every feeling and thought to the right man … to Leon.

tears continued to fall.

‘i miss you. god, i miss you. i should’ve never left. i should’ve stayed. it was my fault. i broke us, i hurt us. i died when i left you but you brought me back to life when i saw you standing on that cliff.

when i saw you, the emotions running through me i couldn’t comprehend. i wanted to run, i wanted to turn away because i knew if i approached you it would be bad. but my body made its way towards you anyway.

i love you. i always have and i always will. i wish i could hold you again. i wish i could go back. they say to never open the closed doors of your past. fuck not opening closed doors, your door never closed.

when i turn back i can see you, standing there in the doorway watching me leave. just like the night i left. it hurts looking back, it hurts because i want to run back to you so bad.’

‘do you still love me?’

his words rang in your head like an alarm. you were looking down at your paper, vision blurry with tears. you could feel the weight of your tears falling onto the sheet as you sat there in silence. a small sob left your lips as audible whispers rang throughout the room.

you folded the paper in half, shaking your head as you looked up at your fiancee.

“i’m sorry,” was all you said as you took a step back. your body moved before you could process anything. you ran down the steps, lifting the skirt of your dress with one hand while the other held your love letter with a vice grip.

you ran down the aisle, towards the large doors. your throat was on fire and as you burst through the wooden doors, you finally let out a singular sob.

everyone in the church stood and watched you run out, looking between you and your fiancee abandoned at the altar. the whispers became louder, and gasped erupted through the room. your fiancee stood at the altar looking at his feet, completely still.

his mother ran up to him, placing a hand on his shoulder as she threw a million questions towards him. he stayed silent, eyes fixed on the ground below him. he couldn't believe it and neither could anyone else.

Leon looked back from you running out the door towards Chris standing behind him. his face was painted with worry, his eyes wide and eyebrows scrunched together. Chris nodding his head towards the door, signaling Leon to go after you.

“go, she needs you,” Claire said from behind Chris. Leon nodded silently, a heavy breath leaving his lips as he ran after you.

he was second to burst through those doors after you. he looked right and left, panicking. what happened? what was wrong? he knew he shouldn’t have come. this was his fault. if he didn’t come, you would be running out of this church with your husband on your arm. not like this.

those vows. they weren’t for your husband. he knew that for sure. your eyes were stuck on his, he watched with agony as tears slipped past your pretty eyes and down your cheeks. god, he hated seeing you cry more than anything. he just wished he could scoop you up in his arms and coax them out of you gently.

a sign against the wall that read ‘garden’ caught his attention. the sign pointed to the left and Leon was quick to take after you.

he knew you well. he knew you loved gardens and flowers, always plucking them from the ground or from their bush and sticking them into Leon’s hair. you once mentioned to him how when you’re troubled you tend to turn to nature or your bed. you’d take walks, sit outside in the sun in silence. you’d brush your fingers against the soft petals and leaves.

your bed was nowhere in sight so he ran in the direction of the garden.

he made way down the steps into the garden, loosening the tie around his neck. he shut his mouth, listening to your voice over his beating heart and his heaving breaths. he could faintly hear sobs coming from his right. his head snapped in the direction of your cries, his heart breaking as he spotted your heels on the ground.

they most likely slipped off as you ran away. he sucked in one last deep breath, trudging through the grass of the church garden to pick up your heels. the garden was beautiful, tall bushes acting as walls to a makehsift maze.

white roses were planted everywhere. the grass was healthy and warm, tickling at his ankles. bees buzzed around the bushes, hopping from flower to flower. birds chirped in the trees, singing melancholic tunes on this beautiful afternoon. or pretty drastic afternoon.

as he walked further into the maze, he caught eye of you. your back was turned to him, you had sat down on a bench in the middle of the maze and in front of a marble statue. he stopped in his tracks, gulping down the lump in his throat which somehow made his presence clear to you.

you turned around surprised, eyes wide and a small gasp leaving your lips.

when you caught eye of him standing there, holding your heels with one hand and the other tucked in his pocket. you felt tears welling up again, though you hid it away with a dry laugh.

“how cliche huh? runaway bride.”

he didn’t answer, making his way closer and closer to you. he rounded around the bench, getting down on one knee in front of you. he took your right ankle into his hands, rubbing at your soft skin.

Leon tried to ignore the damp paper in your hands — your vows. he was curious, what did they really say?

he slipped on your heel, continuing to draw circles onto your skin.

you watched him, inhaling deep, trembling breaths and gripping the edge of the bench with all your might. the tension was thick, so thick to the point neither of you could breathe.

“say something,” you sighed out.

“i don’t know what to say,” he croaked out, his voice stuffy and hoarse. he took a hold of your other ankle, slipping on the last heel.

“say that i don’t know, i’m stupid. i’m an idiot. i embarassed myself, i-“ you cut yourself off with a heavy sigh, dropping your head into your lap. there was a moment of silence, leaving you two stuck in an oasis of tweeting birds, rustling trees, and buzzing bees.

“look at me-“

“no,”

“please, baby look at me,” he practically begged. butterflies arose in your stomach and you shut your eyes, hoping you could shut him out. hoping the noise in your head would stop, just hoping everything will quiet. “i need you to look at me.”

that was all it took. you slowly looked up from your lap and at him. once you met his gaze, you felt like you were that young girl again. that young girl walking down the street after a dinner date, eating froyo in freezing weather and talking about your dream house.

“you’re not an idiot, you’re not stupid, you’re perfect. you’re so perfect,” he sighed out. “why’d you run?”

you shook your head, “i couldn’t do it, Leon, i-“ you stopped yourself to suck in a deep breath, but it felt so constricted. your head was pounding, everything felt heavy and you were so dizzy. every thing was falling down. you felt like you couldn’t breathe or think, your head was spinning and your knuckles white.

you gripped at your chest, nervously playing with the pendant of your necklace but at the same time trying to tug it off. you felt like you were choking, your vision began to cloud with tears but at the same time you felt like you were losing consciousness.

“hey, hey,” he came to sit next to you, instantly wrapping his heavy arms around your shoulders to bring you into his chest but still giving you room to breathe.

his fingers began to loosen the ribbons to your corset. his movements were stable and calm. “breathe with me ‘kay?" he soothed, "in and out, just how we always did,”

you nodded, gripping onto his suit, “in”

you shut your eyes and took a deep breath in. “good, what’s one thing you can taste?”

“um my lipstick,” you said, as you both exhaled.

“in,” he rubbed your back with one hand while the other held you firmly against him, “what are two things you can smell?”

his voice was getting deeper and quieter. slowly, your body began to relax. you could breathe again. you focused on your surroundings, naming off the first things you could. “the grass and…” you paused to let a deep breath out, “you.”

he wasn’t going to lie, your reply made his heart jump a little bit. he tightened his hold onto you, burying his nose into your hair. “in.”

as he took a deep breath in, he was bombarded with the smell of your shampoo and hairspray, “what are three things you can hear?”

“birds, wind and your heart beat,” you whispered to him as you let out another deep breath.

“in,” another deep breath in, “almost there, what are four things you can touch?” he could feel your body loosen up as you began to feel around him. your eyes were shut and your body began to go slack against him.

“your suit, the bench, and a button,” another deep breath out.

“good, almost there, in.” you were prepared for this one, pulling back from the hug just a bit so you could look around your surroundings. “what are five things you can see?”

you looked up at him, your breath hitching in your throat and your knees going weak. even if you were sitting down, you felt like jelly — as if you would melt right through this bench. you opened your mouth to speak but nothing came out but a weak croak.

he whispered out your name, concerned. his eyebrows curling upwards and his eyes searching yours. the longer you stayed like this, looking into his eyes and breathing with him, the quieter it got. there was no more pounding and noise in your head. your dress didn’t feel itchy. the pins in your hair no longer stabbed at your scalp. the soles of your feet didn’t hurt.

it was all so peaceful. everything.

“i do,” you managed to croak out.

“what?”

“to answer your question,”

‘do you still love me?’

“i do, Leon, i do. more than you’ll ever know,”

you couldn’t read the look on his face, all you saw was a flurry of emotions. he searched your face for any hesitation or lie, anything to keep him from taking you away from here for good. something to stop him from being selfish and keeping you all to himself.

“i love you, Leon Scott Kennedy.”

~

To my beloved, Leon,

i wish you were by my side, holding me and singing your cheesy songs in my ear.

i miss waking up to you every morning, staying in bed for a few more hours just so i can watch you breathe and stir in your sleep.

you broke me. we broke each other but every single piece of me will crawl back to you in the end. no matter how shattered i am.

i miss you. god, i miss you. i should’ve never left. i should’ve stayed. it was my fault. i broke us, i hurt us. i died when i left you but you brought me back to life when i saw you standing on that cliff.

when i saw you, the emotions running through me i couldn’t comprehend. i wanted to run, i wanted to turn away because i knew if i approached you it would be bad. but my body made its way towards you anyway.

i love you. i always have and i always will. i wish i could hold you again. i wish i could go back. they say to never open the closed doors of your past. fuck not opening closed doors, your door never closed.

when i turn back i can see you, standing there in the doorway watching me leave. just like the night i left. it hurts looking back, it hurts because i want to run back to you so bad.

you’re my everything and you’ll continue to be for the rest of my life. i cannot breathe without you, i cannot think, i cannot function. my head is foggy. but when i see you it all becomes so clear. when i go to sleep at night and the thought of you crosses my mind i can’t help but smile.

i wish i still had that picture of you by my bed because it’s never enough to see you smiling in my head as i lay in the dark. the sheets are cold, this house is cold, my heart is cold. i need you Leon.

it’s too late to go back now. i can’t keep doing this to you. i’m sorry. i love you.

~

a heavy hand was draped over your waist, strong firm muscle pooling you into a brick wall of a chest. you smiled, placing your hand over the one on your stomach. light kisses were pressed to your neck and down to your shoulder. rough stubble tickling your smooth skin only prompting you to smile wider.

“good morning,” a hoarse voice spoke in your ear. you looked up at the clock on your nightstand, it read 12:16. you grumbled, turning over and burying your face into chest and muscle, draping your arms around his frame and intertwining your legs with his.

“it’s so early,” you whined, hiding away from the sun peeking through your balcony doors.

“baby, it’s noon.” more kisses were pressed to your face, slowly waking you up with each one. gentle and wet kisses, you smiled at the feeling, nuzzling your nose between his pectorals with a low groan.

“it’s time to get up,”

the sound of you faking a snore earned you a small chuckle, the chest you lay on bouncing up and down — shaking you awake a bit more. the hand on your back traveled further south, rubbing over the bare skin of your ass.

“i tire you out last night, huh?” he taunted, kissing over the love bites forming on your neck and shoulders. you nodded shamelessly, every single one of your limbs was sore and you could barely move an inch without wincing in pain.

“that’s unfair, you folded me like origami and you expect me not to be tired, let me sleep,”

“i'm sorry baby, but i’m not done,”

a smirk grew on your lips and all of a sudden the pain in your body was gone. you were flipped over onto your back, making you squeal out in surprise. you were met with a pair of blue eyes and a messy head of brown hair.

warm lips met yours in a heated frenzy of a kiss — full of flame and passion. you tangled your fingers into the head of messy brown hair, moaning deeply into the kiss. you lifted your legs and brought them up and around his waist.

you could feel his hard cock press against your inner thigh, a small groan left his lips at the contact and a needy moan left yours. his hand reached between your nude bodies, two fingers slotting in between your folds and a slow and languid pace.

the tips of his fingers found your clit, rubbing small and slow circles around the sore nub. your walls fluttered around nothing, craving his cock that throbbed against your thigh.

you failed to kiss him back as a small whine left your lips.

“so wet already,” he kissed your chin, “were you dreaming about me, baby?”

you couldn’t help but give him a large smile, “maybe,”

you watched a smile grow on his lips as he placed another deep kiss to yours. his fingers left your aching cunt, leaving you pleading for more. his hand glided up your thigh, making sure your legs were securely wrapped around him.

he pulled away from the kiss, kissing your nose and then the corner of your mouth.

“i love you,” he breathed out.

“i love you too…ah,” your voice faded away into a moan as he slowly thrust into you. a weak moan left your lips and your nails dug into the skin of his back. you were never used to the sheer size of him, even if he was given to you just a few hours ago here you are, gasping for air as you clench around him.

“so beautiful, taking me so good,” he praised with a small groan. his tip nudged against your cervix, practically knocking the air left in your lungs straight out. he kept a hand on your leg, keeping you as close to him as possible.

with each deep thrust, he watched your every facial expression, watching as your mouth dropped open into a moan and as your eyes rolled into the back of your skull. he watched your lips try and form words, the only words you could moan out was his name:

“Leon,” you whined, dragging your nails down his back. he winced at the pain but he reveled in it, the way you’d claw at his back as he’d pound into you was better than any pain ever conflicted upon him. or when your teeth would sink into his shoulder, muffling your whines and moans.

the image only saturated his need.

you could feel his cock twitch inside of you and his hips began to roll against yours. still plagued by sleep, you buried your head into his shoulder, whimpering with each thrust. you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, locking your ankles around his waist to bring him closer.

you loved feeling his weight on top of you, keeping you pressed firmly into the mattress, that way you had nowhere to run. not like you’d ever want to, the pleasure he gives you when he’s on top of you like this is inexplicable.

his arms underneath you, pulling you to his chest as he brought you up with him. both of your jaws dropped open, this new position allowing the tip of his cock to press further into you. you cupped his cheek, breathing in his heavy gasps as you slowly began to roll your hips down into him.

your breasts were pushed up against his, sweaty bodies sticking together and the smell of sex filled the room. soft and gentle moans slipped past your lips, your hands grabbing at anything in reach; his shoulders, his face, his arms, just him.

“you’re so beautiful,” he groaned, gripping the back of your neck and forcing you to look down at him. your lips met him in a frenzy, your cunt squelching the base of his cock as you rocked your hips against his faster — desperately chasing that high.

your stomach was burning with need, and every part of your body from your toes to your neck was on fire. you’ve never burned for someone like you do for him. his hips jolted up to meet yours and you gasped into his mouth which allowed him to slide his tongue against yours.

he was meeting you halfway with his thrusts, a gasp of pleasure leaving your mouth with every single one.

“fuck, it’s too much,” you whined as his lips traveled down your neck, biting down on your shoulder and your collarbones — he wanted to leave a mark.

“you can take it,” he heaved, “can’t you, baby?” he urged, as his teeth scraped against the plump of your breast. a shiver rolled up your spine at both the pain and pleasure, either way you nodded ecstatically.

“yes! i can take it,”

he smirked wider, his hips thrusting up faster. he watched as your tits bounced against his chest, your head rolling back which let your frizzy hair fall over your shoulders. his eyes were glued to the love bites decorating your body. the bruises and the redness growing on his skin.

the image of your body was now forever painted in his mind. your thighs wrapped around him as your hips ground down into his thrusts. your puffy cunt taking him so well, his cock sheathing inside of you and out again. your juices soaking the tuft of hair surrounding the base of his cock. your breasts bouncing and your ribs poking out.

“oh Leon, i’m so close-“ you whined, wrapping your arms around him. one of your hands running up the back of his neck and into his brown hair, the other wrapped around his shoulders with nails digging into his skin.

“let go for me, baby.” he egged you on, teetering close to his high as well. he screwed his eyes shut, digging his fingers into the fat of your ass, helping you meet his thrusts.

you buried yourself into the crook of his neck, muffling your loud moans into his skin. the sound of wet slapping skin only got louder, along with the sound of needy moans and the headboard banging against the wall.

the fog in your mind only got heavier and stars danced in your vision. your legs clamped around his waist as you came undone around his cock. stars danced behind your vision as you called out his name in a chant.

he wasn’t too far behind, biting down on your shoulder as he shot his seed deep inside of you. hot and thick, coating your gummy walls and painting you as his.

he continued pulling your hips down into his, slowly and carefully to help you ride out both of your highs. you slumped against him, completely worn out. all the soreness came back in a flash and your eyes felt heavy. but you smiled, draping your arms around his shoulders and allowing his softening cock to stay inside of you.

you turned your right, met with the bright light of the sun and the most beautiful view ever. the sun high in the sky shining down on a field of green grass. birds flew around in the distance, gliding in the wind and twirling in the air. you watched as they flew up and up until they were out of sight.

you pulled back from leaning on his shoulder, cupping his cheek and guiding him to look at you. his eyes peeled open slowly, his pupils contracting against the bright light he was exposed to before dilating again as he caught sight of you hovering above him.

he brushed a strand of your hair behind your ear, smiling up at you.

“hi,”

you chuckled, “hi,”

he placed a deep kiss on your lips, sealing in the steamy morning you both shared. as he pulled away, he let his eyes stay shut for a moment, he wanted to mesmerize the feeling of your lips alone. he wanted to remember the feeling of your sticky body pressed to his. he wanted to remember the sound of your voice. he wanted to remember this moment. that way if he died tomorrow, he would be able to lay back and remember you.

“my body hurts,” you groaned, leaning back and taking him with you. as you both hit the mattress with a loud ‘puff’, he couldn’t help but smile.

“let me guess, you’re going to spend the whole time in bed,” he chuckled.

“what? i can’t enjoy my honeymoon? and my new house,” you smiled widely up at him. he cupped your cheek, smiling happily as he brushed your cheek. your smile faded as you nuzzled yourself into his palm, with a small sigh.

“you know, the moment i got home after that date with the froyo,” he began, licking over his dry lips. “i went home and began mapping out how your dream house would look,”

"really?" you smiled as you turned towards him, bunching the duvet up to your chin. he nodded and you gave him a small playful scoff, "and here i thought it was just a question,"

"well, it wasn't,"

your heart ached at the image of a young and blonde Leon sitting at his crowded desk, sketching out a house with the tip of his tongue sticking out the corner of his lip. you smiled at his confession, letting him plop down beside you as his arm wrapped around your waist to bring you against him.

“i was determined to make it happen,” he chuckled to himself, “i bought the property, hired construction workers, and interior designers. now that i think about it, i was so mean to them.”

you laughed at that, his story playing out in your head like a movie. you wondered how long it took and how much it all cost. though, he refused to tell you. he refused to tell you anything about the making of this house. you didn’t know about it until just a few weeks ago.

when he carried you out of the car bridal style with a blindfold around your eyes. he placed you onto the ground for a moment and you could hear the jingling of keys and the squeak of a door. when you stepped into the house it smelt stale, like wood and dust.

but when he took that blindfold off you were faced with something much better. you were face to face with your future — your dream. he mapped it out perfectly, just to your desires and nothing could ever be better. it was better than your dreams. so much better.

“the day of your uh other wedding,” he paused stifling a small nervous laugh as you giggled, “i was about to sell it. i was about to throw your dream away,” you frowned, both feeling guilty and saddened at the thought. he reached down under the covers, finding your hand and intertwining his fingers with yours.

“our dream…i was going to throw our dream away,” he laid his head down against the pillow, looking down at your hands as he ran his thumb over your delicate knuckles. “it wasn’t your fault, i just couldn’t stomach the thought of living or owning a house that was meant for you,”

“oh Leon,” you sighed.

“you didn’t know about the house, i never got to tell you and well it was too late to.”

you brought your joined hands to your lips, placing a kiss on his knuckles as you scooched closer to him. you didn’t go back to him because of the house, even if you did know about the house, you knew that you would have gone back to him for the sole purpose of being with him.

you could still be in that dainty old apartment and you’d be happy. you could be living in a studio apartment with him and you’d be happy. you could be living in a cardboard box with him and you’d be happy. as long as you were with him. home was where he was. Leon was home.

“the realtor convinced me not to, he told me a story similar to ours,” his other hand reached up, cupping your cheek and stroking the puffiness underneath your eyes.

“his story didn’t have a happy ending like ours but he told me, ‘it is never too late to be what you wanted to be.’” Leon sighed heavily, looking deep into your eyes. you looked at him attentively, eyes wide and eyelashes fluttering up at him. he smiled at you, finding the look on your face adorable, like a kid listening to a bedtime story.

“and well i wanted to be with you,”

your heart swelled with love and your features softened. you gave him a look of pure adoration, and every waking moment and every waking day you found yourself falling more and more deeply in love with him. from the moment you woke, to the moment you slept and into the dreams you inhabit, you loved him dearly.

your heart called for him in your strongest and weakest moments. your soul was tied to him and your every thought revolved around him.

Leon. Leon. Leon. he was all you knew and all you wanted. he was your dream, your prince charming, your fairytale. he was your everything. he held you in the palm of his hands and he didn’t even know it. from the moment you met and to this very moment now, laying in bed with limbs entangled — stealing kisses and whispering sweet nothing, you were his.

you wanted it to be him.

you wanted him to be your partner in crime. you wanted him to be your husband, your partner in life and death, the father to your children, the man you introduced to your parents, the man to give you his last name, the person you woke up to in the morning and fell asleep next to in the night, the sole owner of your heart and soul.

and now he is that. he is your partner in life and death, your husband, to father of your future children, the man you woke up to and fell asleep next to. he is that man.

“i’m glad it was you.”

(divider creds to @saradika ,, photos off of pinterest)

tags : @xoxoloveless @luvrgreyy @ynsvnte @satinwithsilk @child-chomper1 @porcelain-sea-shore @stefoooo @spfoah @chesue00 @daervannafia @puppyina @prettyntxhee @leonkennedygvrl @altissia-09 @leqonsluv3r @yuiopiklmn @folksriddle @squazmine @its0214-am @xqlenkdy @belovedcloud @beafart (loved ur lil note btw! it made me laugh) @admirxation @neverg0nnagivey0uup @fancyyme @marymustdie @bloodstainedbandaid @jeonmochi99-blog

notes: if you wanna be on my tag list pls message me or fill out the form below (just to make it easier on me :D)

taglist

author notes: MY GOD! pt. 2 is done and this shit is LONG! literally i did not need to write this much but i hope you guys enjoyed this one and tysm for filling out the taglist i was so surprised to see so many people wanted to be tagged in my work i thank each and every one of you ToT!!

also, summer is officially here for me so expect me to be active much more :D! - V!

[theyrejustfictional]

just a cute little clip of DI Leon ♡ ;

[chefkids]

Carmy took Claire to Sheridan Road.

Remember in the original pilot script how Carmy asks Sydney what her favorite UPS route was?

Well you will never guess where the first "date" we see Claire and Carmy go on is...

He takes her to Sheridan Road. Where Rogers Park turns into Evanston. Near Northwestern.

Not only does he take her to Sheridan Road. But he takes her there to deliver mail.

Like UPS.

Sydney probably did mention to him at some point offscreen that she liked to drive through there. Also weirdly enough, there is a catholic cemetery right next to that road, and I would not even be the slightest bit surprised if we found out that Mikey was buried there.

Everything about Carmy and Claire's relationship always has Sydney inserted in it.

From the veal stock,

to the drive,

to the pasta,

to their breakup.

The thing is, neither Claire or Sydney realize this. I don't even think Carmy realizes this. But by Season 3 I'm sure they will all be putting the pieces together.

[ultimateanna]

Resident Evil

Chris and Claire Redfield

Chris Redfield (Old) and Rosemary Winters

[haliet0]

[kerropob-a]

A sluts gotta do what a sluts gotta do

[lanadelreyscokewhor3]

chris evans is looking too fine recently i’m physically ill

[ps5captures7]

LEON KENNEDY in Resident Evil 4 [2023]

Captured On PS5, By Me

Capture Dates - ??

Post Date - Thursday, 10th October 2024

all likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated<3

[yurozo]

resident evil headcanons (restaurant au)

characters: leon, chris, jill, claire, rebecca, ada, luis, carlos, wesker. a/n: this was created as a joke between me and my friends that completely spiralled out of control. maybe the stupidest au i've ever created. wesker and friends hit me up if you wanna use this warnings: vulgar language. sorry, i'm canadian, we swear a lot here.

chris redfield (bartender): he's one of the first hires, and has been working as the head bartender forever. he absolutely loves to lowkey trauma dump on customers unknowingly, only to shake the mixer after just to avoid the awkward silence. the owner has had to move the tv's out of the way of the bar because chris will only look at the screen and fuck up every single drink during a big game. refuses leon everytime he tries to come up to the bar for drinks. he knows when it's him, leon always tries to input it in the system as a customer order for a table that isn't occupied, but he always orders his whiskey in a very specific way that outs him. chris will pour it out in front of him to make a point. he eventually had to make a memo about not letting leon take drinks from the bar anymore. to customers, he is every older woman's wet dream. he knows that flexing his biceps will rake him in more tips, so he does it often. also does it when women are being hit on by creepy men to scare them away. the night that he wears tight turtlenecks are his big paycheck days. chris will never admit that he likes when people squeeze his arms. chris is the guy that everyone has a crush on when they first start working there, it's basically an initiation rite at this point. he's the friendliest one of the bunch and gives wholesome big bro vibes and it makes him absolutely irresistible to new hires. (x reader) if you're working alongside chris in the bar, prepare to constantly run into him. he's a massive guy, and maneuvering around a little bar with that hunk is near impossible without a couple collisions. after a while, he's learned to put a gentle hand on your back whenever he has to move behind you, all for the sake of "workplace safety". he loves to sneak food from the kitchen and share it with you, but this man eats like a horse. like the chefs are genuinely surprised on how much food this man can physically fit inside his body, but he will always leave a portion for you. it takes him a long time to make a move because he's afraid of ruining your friendship and workplace relationship. leon kennedy (server): he got hired a little after everyone else, and got put onto the waitstaff because of his looks. however, this man is super awkward with patrons despite being super popular with older women. he's always getting propositions to get set up with someone's daughter and he always unknowingly shoots them down. (customer: "you're really cute, leon: "ok.") he always makes little jokes to lighten the mood and it is an instant vibe killer. the only people who like them are the old ladies who think he's cute, and dads who genuinely think he's funny.

as for the whiskey incident, leon has tried multiple times to pretend being a bartender when chris is on break to sneak himself a drink. he claims that it makes him better at serving, but three broken trays and countless shattered glasses say otherwise.

leon does have kind of a blank expression when patrons try and get him to cut them deals or do stuff for them. he will immediately go back and scream by himself in the freezer after a difficult customer interaction. has cried silently in the freezer after food got in his hair. (x reader) leon always smells like american crew hair pomade, and always showers himself in cologne on shifts he knows he's working with you. you smiled at him one time in the middle of a rush and he had to sit on the curb to collect himself. leon has a horrible tendency to get distracted whenever you're in his general vicinity, and will completely ignore customers whenever you walk by with literal hearts in his eyes. he's one of the fastest people to make a move, mostly because he lacks any form of subtlety. he always offers to drive you home, always offers to take you out to dinner after work like you already don't work in food service, and always keeps something in his bag for you. he loves to lowkey fuck with you on shifts, like putting an ice cube down your shirt to make you pay attention to him. jill valentine (hostess):

another og worker, and the most no-nonsense of them all, especially with customers. if the wait time is thirty minutes, then you're waiting thirty goddamn minutes. she does not care who you supposedly know. she has gotten a couple writeups for visibly rolling her eyes when large parties come in without a reservation. jill demands a break every thirty minutes to sit with chris on the curb while he smokes a cigarette. she calls it her mental health breaks.

pointedly does not listen to leon when he asks her to stop seating people in her section. her favourite past-time is to seat all the old women obsessed with him at his tables to watch him flounder. also gives leon's number out to people who try and hit on her at the job. she's also the only person who can scare the owner, so jill gets away with a lot more than most people. her and carlos often hang out after shifts to drink beer and play pool. her and claire have regular girls nights where jill's convinced into facemasks and terrible movies that only have a one star rating on whatever pirated movie website claire pays for. (x reader) every attempt you make to ask her on a date goes completely over her head. it's only at chris' intervention that she finally gets the hint and takes you out to dinner. she ends up having her own shelf of stuff at your apartment within a week, and she's more than happy to drive you to work everyday. if you have a pet, prepare for jill to come over to spoil it rotten and feign ignorance when you confront her about it. another victim of the 'takes extra long to get ready on shifts you work together'. she knows you like her arms, so she's wearing short sleeves or tanks whenever she has the opportunity, and silently preens in your attention. carlos, (line cook):

without a doubt, the line cooks are the vibe bringers of the restaurant. carlos always takes a hit off his dab pen before coming in, because he claims it makes his cooking taste better. he always gives food to the female servers at any given opportunity, and pretends to not know what the male servers are talking about when they bring it up. (is the reason for 90% of the memos regarding workplace behaviour).

carlos always smells like old spice and food, and there is almost nothing that could break his good mood during a shift. he really is just happy to be there. he's very particular on how the freezer is organized, but loved to label the items wrong to piss off the others (spinch). his mother taught him how to cook, so he has a dedicated dish named after her. carlos always comps her meals when she comes in and doesn't tell anybody about it.

as for the other employees, carlos torments them. he loves to play his own music in the kitchen but has a wildly inappropriate taste for work music. chris banned him from the speaker officially after only playing doja cat for three hours. however, him and luis love to carpool and play brazilian funk with all the windows rolled down at max volume. those two are not allowed to work together too much. he also has a mobile game rivalry with leon, so anytime carlos is missing from the kitchen, you'll find him in the bathroom on his phone. just follow the shitty iphone game music.

(x reader) in all honesty, carlos is the man that's hooked up with the most employees. the mans charm is undeniable. but he has a particular soft spot when it comes to you-- you get to taste-test every dish, there's always a nice cold glass of water waiting for you, and carlos will take the fall for every fuckup at your table. he'll introduce you to his mom when she comes in, but is secretly terrified at how well the two of you get along. don't even get him started on bringing his siblings into the place, he would never hear the end of it. carlos received another memo after engaging in too much pda at work after the two of you got together.

claire redfield (waitress):

one of the main reasons for all the positive google reviews. it's not that she's naturally a super bubbly person, but claire knows how to turn it on and off when her shift starts. jill puts most of the families in her section since claire has a natural gift with kids. however, she is extremely biased when it comes to the food. her face always tells you exactly what she thinks of a dish.

since chris is always within eyesight of her, whenever difficult customers give her problems, she loves to sic chris on them. even just having him stand behind her is enough to give her leverage over someone trying to haggle on a bill. and with carlos' willingness to give food to pretty girls, she never goes hungry during a shift. the girl has her whole shift figured out on a system. she also knows exactly when the lull in service is going to be so she can take extended bathroom breaks.

out of everyone, she's the one to organize after-work hangouts, whether by putting gentle reminders into the group chat, or straight up bullying people to come (ie. jill). everyone always knows when she pulls up from the sound of her engine, but she refuses to let anyone on it. especially luis or leon, for insurance reasons.

(x reader) this girl has the uncanny ability to know what you need, and when you need it. forgot an iced tea for table 20? it's already in her hand on the way. it's her nice little way of showing what a good girlfriend she would be, that she can anticipate your needs. for every group hangout, you are the first person she texts and the primary benefactor of the tips she makes. claire is a no bullshit kind of woman, and when she wants you, you will know. she'll always ask you to hang out, always compliment how you look, tell you constantly how good you are at your job. maybe she'll let you ride behind her on the motorcycle just for the excuse of having your arms around your waist, and does that hot thing where she rubs your arms with her thumb at red lights.

rebecca chambers (head waitress):

dear old rebecca, truly the glue holding everything together. she's incredibly sweet to customers, and to most of the employees. the only reason the floor runs properly is her by the book attitude and highly perceptive personality. nothing is getting by rebecca. she's leon's number two nemesis for being able to drink on the job, and chris' number one nemesis for smoking outside. this woman has the nose of a bloodhound when someone is about to do something stupid.

despite her appearance, everyone is afraid to make her angry. she's lost her shit a total of one time, but it was enough for everyone to be on their best behaviour. she does have a tendency to make passive aggressive comments with such a sickly sweet smile on her face, that you won't even realize she insulted you until long after she's walked away.

least favourite part of the job? she is a hit with old men. they can never leave her alone. second least favourite part? finding ways to sneak vitamins into certain employees food so they can live to see another day. the way that some of the others operate is enough to give her grey hairs.

(x reader) rebecca is intelligent and ambitious, and more than willing to make sacrifices when it comes to you. she's more than happy to take the fall on a screwup if it gets you out of it, wanting nothing more than your smile in return. her main tactic of getting to know you is inviting you over to watch movies, inconspicuously of course, so she can ask you questions over the whole thing. overall, she's an acts of service girl, but is much more subtle about it than claire is. you need a meal prep plan? she's your woman. she wants nothing more than to take care of you, to make your life as easygoing as possible. but the true way to her heart is any form of baked goods. if you make a habit of bringing her pastries before a shift, she's putty in your hands.

ada wong, (head chef):

this woman, god help her, has the hardest job out of them all. not only does she have to babysit her two line cooks, but she's also responsible for cleaning up all the fuckups the waitstaff make. her saving grace is the fact that everyone else is terrified of her, creating a wide berth every time she picks up a knife. everyone can always hear her scolding carlos in the kitchen, who just brushes it off with a laugh.

despite the chaos of a kitchen, ada has the impeccable ability to never get food on herself. even after the dinner rush there is not a single hair out of place, looking just as perfect as when she started. every ingredient is measured precisely, every fda standard met and upheld-- pretty much the counterforce to carlos and luis. secretly, she loves when carlos has control of the speaker, but she would rather die than admit it.

the second an overcomplicated modification comes in, the temperature of the kitchen immediately drops. why the hell does she pore over a menu just for some middle-aged man to think he knows better than her? despite her no-nonsense attitude, she does secretly love fucking with leon. only luis knows about her secret tinder account that she catfished leon on with some fake woman in romania.

(x reader) ada is a woman in tune with herself, in tune with what and who she wants. the second she gets attached, she will display clear favouritism. every new recipe she tries is given to you for taste-testing, claiming that you will always give her the truth. it's a lie, she just like seeing the grin on your face when you enjoy it. if anyone asks her about it, she will vehemently deny it, claiming that you're the only one competent enough at your job. her asking you out is more of a demand than it is a question: this place, this time, wear that dress you know i like. she's not huge fan of pda at the workplace, but she'll always give you that look that screams, just wait until i get my hands on you later.

luis sera (line cook):

this man does not operate on a recipe, he operates on la pasion. really, it just means the foods always a tad spicier than it should be. he also sings obnoxiously loud in the kitchen, to the point that patrons can hear it if they're seated close enough. this man obeys ada for the most part, but he's honestly never touched a measuring cup in his life. he'll stop pouring when his ancestors tell him to stop pouring. however he has the uncanny ability to know exactly when meat is within three degrees of whatever temp they need it cooked to.

the waitstaff either love him or hate him. luis playfully flirts with everyone in his line of sight. who could blame him? he's stuck in a kitchen all day and everyone at this restaurant is unbearably attractive. mostly, he just likes seeing their reactions. leon adamantly begs claire to fetch his plates from the kitchen for him, because luis calls him prince charming every time, and leon hates it.

there's a rumour going around that he got drunk after a shift and made out with another employee, but no one knows who it is. there's a restaurant-wide betting pool on potential victims. also, since luis is the only person who knows about the catfish incident, he loves to ask leon innocuous question while feigning innocence about the whole thing. he's just really invested in his love life, he swears.

(x reader) if you think the flirting is bad towards leon, just wait until he catches an eyeful of you. it is a nonstop barrage of witty compliments, offers to go dancing (or clubbing), and pick-up lines that were definitely picked up off the internet. he's a suave guy, don't get me wrong, but he most definitely gets too many of his ideas from old romance novels. at some point he gives up, telling you straight that he wants to take you out, for reals, and cook you a nice home-cooked meal. maybe some wine. maybe more, if you'll let him. luis is another person who displays clear favouritism, and tries to convince ada into naming a dish after you. it has a horribly cheesy name, but it tastes wonderful and he loves shooting you a wink every time you see him making it (he always makes that dish more carefully than any of the others).

wesker (manager):

this man bought the damn place in a last ditch attempt to save himself from bankruptcy, and unknowingly entangled himself into the lives of the dumbest twenty year olds he's ever met in his life. the only person that he kind of tolerates is ada, because she runs that kitchen like it's the military, and he can respect how batshit terrifying she is. he has a particular vendetta against chris for reasons he can't name, but since chris brings in a lot of money, he can't really refuse. he mostly gets that frustration out by pinning things on chris that leon most definitely did.

he's rarely seen on the actual floor, usually just hanging in the back on the computer doing whatever the fuck he does. (he's playing farmville, but no one knows it's him because of a pseudonym. he also does not know how to turn the music off so if you stand at the right position outside the door you can hear it.)

when he is seen out on the floor, he's wearing the most obnoxious sunglasses and leather jacket known to man, and stalks around the bar to watch for mistakes. you know you fucked up around wesker when there's a sneer on his face. the place almost got robbed once, and wesker threw a punch so fast that everyone stopped trying to piss him off after that.

(x reader) truthfully, he doesn't act too much different around you. it takes months to catch onto the little quirks that show his softness-- just a slight ease in his eyebrow, a softer pitch when addressing you directly. he'll still chew you out for mistakes, but he forgets about it long before he'll let anyone else slide. if things did eventually progress between the two of you, that manager's office is staying locked.

thank y'all for reading! this ended up being way longer than i thought it was going to be lol.