#claire redfield fluff

[ch-4-eri]

claire redfield is a touchy girlfriend! she has to grab your hand when you’re walking, grabs your thigh when you’re sitting down, yanks your hair when she walks from behind you, or smacks your bum if you’re wearing tight jeans, gives you random belly rubs when you’re cuddling on the couch, like she’s grabbing at your hips, your waist, anywhere her hands could reach, massages your boobs when she’s spooning you with a leg dangled over you so she’s closer to you, her hands are always touching you always.

[carame1bunny]

‎.‧₊˚✧Resident Evil Masterlist✧˚₊‧

🐇Requests Open!🐇

smut = ㅤ♡ fluff = ☆ angst = ☾

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⋆⭒˚｡⋆What happens in the Captain’s office… ♡

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[delphi-shield]

ᴀ ɴᴏɴ-ᴛʀᴀᴅɪᴛɪᴏɴᴀʟ ᴀᴘᴘʀᴏᴀᴄʜ ᴛᴏ ʟᴏꜱꜱ & ɢʀɪᴇꜰ // claire redfield

Claire Redfield x Reader hurt/comfort, fluff wc: 1.4k read on ao3 we always talk abt leon's raccoon city trauma but claire was there toooo she had hopes and dreams and her aspirations were ripped away from her in one night!!!

summary: Raccoon City took parts of Claire that she can never get back. She suffers prettily most days, a poster-child for how to handle survivor's guilt. Others, she torments herself with what could have been.

Or;

Claire decides to go back to finish her interrupted undergraduate degree.

content: hurt/comfort, fluff, established relationship, reader's pov

Claire keeps washing the same damn coffee mug.

It's been like this for the past five minutes. Claire half-heartedly scrubs at the cup, her mind somewhere far away, eyes glazed over.

That's what you picture, at least. From where you're seated, you can only see her back, her profile carved from the warm light of your apartment. It would be idyllic if you didn't know better. Stress suspends her at the kitchen sink, a string wound between her limbs that pulls her taut.

“You're gonna scrub the design off,” you warn. It takes a moment for your voice to penetrate her stupor. You picture her blinking, shaking her head slightly. Her ponytail swings gently, the image of her in your mind transposed into your kitchen.

Claire shuts the water off. She grabs a cloth to dry her mug. A new fixation. She's rubbing the damn thing hard enough that the ceramic squeals under her grip.

This is the part that takes patience.

Claire's been hemming and hawing like this for weeks now. It's never shaky hands and uncertain words with her - it's furrowed brow and loud huffs, a tumultuous battle within herself that leaves you in her wake. Dinners alone, late nights spent peering around the corner of her office, asking her if she's coming to bed. She returns your texts late, disjointed thoughts spilling into midday messages. You piece her meaning together from the shrapnel. Collateral damage.

As much as you'd love to light the spark in her eyes again, to smooth the worried creases from her forehead and ply what bothers her from pursed lips, you know it's futile. She needs the time and the space to tell you on her own, when she's ready. Push too hard and you'll get burned.

It's not work that's troubling her - you had checked. She presents at a conference next month, but in typical Claire fashion, she’ll do all her worrying about that the week before.

Chris is fine, too. That's the other big one that sets her teeth on edge. You'd checked in with him the other night. (Though you always suspected he alerted Claire of your calls. He wasn't good at keeping secrets where Claire was concerned. You're similar that way, you suppose.)

The cup stops squeaking. You lift your head up, dare to peer out of your foxhole. Claire's back is still turned to you. You duck back down, scroll on your phone to paint the illusion of casualty. Casualness, you correct yourself.

“I'm thinking about going back to school.”

You don't even pick your head up. “Oh, like for your master’s?”

Claire’s silence raises your eyes. Her shoulders are still drawn up high in her cream button-up.

“No,” she manages. Jesus, you've never heard her sound so small. “For my bachelor’s.”

You set your phone to the side and nod to the seat across from you. Your cheek squishes against your fist and you carefully curate your expression. A vulnerable Claire is a volatile Claire.

“So, like, a different major, or..?"

“I don't know.” Frustration sets her brow in a harsh crag. She huffs, swatting the question away with a hand.

Just gotta let her work this out, you remind yourself, biting your tongue. Something about this has her flayed open in her own home. She folds her arms across her chest, hands slotting against her ribs to stem the bleeding.

Claire's eyes flit to your phone. When you don't pick it back up, refuse to scroll aimlessly until the conversation is forgotten, she scowls.

“You know I never graduated, right?”

“Really?” You blink, shrug, anything to stay nonchalant. “I guess I just figured you had.”

“I finished my freshman year. Then Raccoon City happened.”

Your heart dips. It always comes back to Raccoon City eventually. You wonder if she spends more time in that burned out shell of a city than anywhere else, if her far-off looks always lead her back to the decimation and the rot.

You reach across to squeeze her hand. “You wanna go back?”

Claire nods. Her eyes filter past you, over your shoulder.

“I don't like leaving unfinished business.”

“I know.”

“God, it would be expensive. Like, a total waste of money.”

“Weren't you just bragging about TerraSave's tuition reimbursement plan like, a couple weeks ago?”

“Yeah, but…” The argument dies on her tongue, her words splattering on the table between you. You trace idle shapes against the back of her hand, waiting for her to disarm herself.

You can think of any number of reasons to tell her not to. You're sure they're the same ones that spin in her head now. Realistically, she doesn't need the degree. Not having it isn't preventing her from progressing in her career. She's been more than successful without it. But this isn't about her future. It's about her past.

Finally, she takes her finger off the trigger. Her shoulders round. Whether it's in defeat or acceptance, it doesn't make much of a difference.

“I don't know, I just – I'm almost 40.” She rolls her eyes, trying to cover up the way her voice had softened. “It's kind of weird to go back and sit in Comp 101 with a bunch of eighteen year olds.”

“Fuck ‘em.” Claire snorts, but the set of her shoulders doesn't round like you'd hoped. You reach across the table, fingers loosely encircling her wrist. “I'm serious, baby. Who cares? You'd tell me the same thing.”

“You don't think it's a waste of time?”

I don't think anything that helps you bury Raccoon City is a waste of time, you want to say. You weave around the landmine instead.

“No way. What major are you going to pick?”

“I was a psych major before everything…” She gestures nebulously in the air between you. A soft tap-tap-tap stirs from beneath the table, her heel clicking against the floor anxiously. “You know.”

You hum and squeeze her hand a little tighter, try to drag her off the streets of Raccoon City. You bounce ideas off of each other, both serious and silly.

This is nothing that will be decided over The course of one night, but she ends up leaning away from psychology. It's more practical to study business, she says. More useful for her work.

You've long devolved into talking nonsense. Claire had asked about your college experience, and you'd picked the stupidest stories possible, trying to see her smile, to see her throw her head back with laughter.

You pause mid-sentence, gasp, eyes sparking bright. “Oh my god, you're gonna be a non-trad. Let's get you one of those backpacks with wheels.”

“Stop,” she laughs, swatting your arm.

“I'm serious. You gotta have the full experience.”

“You're ridiculous.”

“You have to walk down the middle of the sidewalk no matter what.”

“I'm probably just going to do online classes.”

“And you only have two speeds - really fast, or the slowest walker on campus.”

“I'm definitely doing online classes.”

You shake your head. You're definitely ordering her that bag, even if she won't use it. As much as she travels, she might actually get some use out of it, even if she isn't physically attending classes.

You rise from the table and fill her sparkling clean mug with a layer of honey (local, the farmer's market last Saturday, her hand in your back pocket and fresh banana bread dangling from from the bag in the crook of her arm) and switch the kettle on. While you rifle through the cabinet for her favorite tea, you drum up your courage to ask something that could sour the peace.

“How come you never went back to school before now?”

For a moment, you worry you've ruined things. You peer over your shoulder at her, evaluating the thoughtful look on her face carefully.

“I had a lot going on. There was this whole thing with Chris, and–” Claire looks over at you, mischief burning in her eyes. “Hey. Did I ever tell you I'm not allowed back into France?”

“What.”

“Yeah. Not kidding. Hope you didn't want to honeymoon in Paris.”

The kettle clicks off. You nearly spill the water on yourself trying to pour her tea. Bustling back over, you carefully place it in front of her and then careen into your seat. Your chin drops into your hand.

“Tell me everything.”

Claire laughs. Her limbs loosen, both hands curled around her favorite mug. She leans in close and starts her tale. Paris, Antarctica - you wouldn't believe her if she were anyone else.

But she isn't. She's Claire Redfield, and she's finally back in your apartment, hand curled around your thigh. There's no Raccoon City in her eyes anymore. It will be back - she will always be there, in part. You aren't naîve enough to think otherwise. Tonight is proof, though, that she won't be stuck there.

[delphi-shield]

the things i would do to have claire tuck my hair behind my ear......

Mistletoe

Pairing: Claire Redfield x fem!Reader

Summary: Visiting your best friend’s home for Christmas makes you confront your long simmering feelings for his sister after some time away.

Word Count: 2.3k | Read on AO3

A/N: Just a cheesy little something for Christmas. This is my first Claire fic! & it was also a bit rushed bc I wanted to write at least smth for Christmas so pls be kind if I wrote her or Chris somewhat ooc or anything! Ik it’s a bit late but happy holidays everyone <3

You gave out a nervous breath, one that you could see in the cold air, and placed your freezing hands back into your pockets after knocking at the door. Although it certainly wasn’t your first time visiting Chris’ home, this would be the first time visiting for Christmas–which seemed more important. Not to mention Claire. Claire, whom you had grown quite accustomed to every time she visited the BSAA base, making herself home in the break rooms with instant coffee. What a welcome sight she was after a long day of paperwork and extra training. You find your eyes trailing to the ground, thinking of all the possibilities now that you were actually in front of the door, about to see her after a long while. 

The door opens with Chris appearing with a big grin and a particularly ugly Christmas sweater, making you feel right at home with your favourite coworker and best friend. “It’s awful right?” He said, looking down at his sweater, noticing your look. “Come in,” he added with a grin. 

“Very,” you agreed with a laugh. Both your shared laughter and Chris guiding you in and taking your coat distracted you from seeing the glimpse of red in the background, making you stop in your tracks and grip your scarf in your hands. She always did look good in red… you thought. 

Claire stood next to the kitchen counter, a glass of eggnog in her hands as she flashed a smile and chuckle at Jill opposite her. You hadn’t noticed the ragged breath you let out at the first sight of her in a while, a long mission abroad made you forget how just the sight of her could bring heat to your cheeks, even when they were practically frozen from the cold air outside. 

“Thank you for inviting me Chris,” you blinked yourself out of your daze and turned back to him with a smile. His lips curl upwards in almost amusement? “Yeah, of course. You’re practically family at this point,” he nudged your arm in playful affection which earned a chuckle from you. 

“Plus I know how well you and Claire get on together and how much she likes hanging out with you so…” Chris shrugged with a smirk and a slight look in his eyes that made your heart pound with the possibility that he could know… how your glances to his sister lasted a little too long, that you admiring her sleek hair wasn’t just a girl wanting a similar look, that you wished Claire to call you something other than a ‘friend.’

“Hey, you came!” A familiar voice called out before you saw a glimpse of a red sweater and arms enveloping you in a warm hug and the scent of pine and vanilla. You couldn’t help but tense up for a brief second before hugging her back, taking in just being so close to her–even if it was for a few seconds of squeezing you half to death before she pulled away. “It’s been so long, too long!” Claire said with a smile, looking into your eyes that couldn’t help but blink nervously. Her hand was holding yours, the heat of hers warming up your frozen fingers from the cold and nipping air outside. You managed to look back at her again for a few seconds before chuckling and looking down at the wooden floorboards below you. 

“I missed you,” she said softly, squeezing your hand gently. You wanted to melt into the floorboards and never materialize again, no doubt your cheeks were flushed by now–you hoped the freezing weather outside you just escaped from would provide an excuse. You nodded and looked back up at her. “I missed you too,” you said, how do ‘friends’ say that? You questioned in panic. 

“Don’t tell Chris but I’d rather see you at the BSAA base than him,” Claire said with a crooked smile and a wink–making you feel your pounding heart in your throat that you tried to get rid of by yet another laugh. 

“I’m right here, y’know?” Chris reminded with a raised eyebrow and a grin. Claire rolled her eyes playfully and grabbed your arm, pulling you gently to the living room. “C’mon, let’s catch up. I want to hear all about what you’ve been up to,” she said with a smile, her voice just inches away from your ear–making you look over at her sheepishly. 

Between the conversations with everyone else, too many glasses of wine and the occasional eggnog–you always found yourself looking for or at her. Claire Redfield, like her name, always looked good in red, you thought. And with the red Christmas decorations, the red knitted sweater she was wearing with the slight red hue to her lips… who could blame your eyes for always trailing towards her and her… almost beaming presence. It wouldn’t be Christmas without an angel, and you were sitting in the presence of one. You made yourself scoff internally at how much your feelings have grown into the thoughts of a cheesy romance protagonist. The tropes were there–in love with your best friend’s sister, repressing your feelings for years, lingering glances and shy smiles. The question is, would you get the girl in the end? You hadn’t noticed you were biting your lip, deep in thought, until it hurt. 

The sight of a cup of hot chocolate being passed your way as you stood, leaned up in the hallway, shook you out of your slightly delusional thoughts. Your eyes trail upwards to see Claire smiling at you, hand extended with the mug of hot chocolate in her hand–great, just who you wanted to see, you thought ironically with heated cheeks again. It was just warm in here and you drank too much, you told yourself–hoping to somehow convince her telepathically. “I made it for you, you looked in need of a warm drink,” she said with a smile, earning one from you too. 

“Thank you…” you said softly with a bit too much sincerity behind your words for just a simple mug of hot chocolate. She had made you coffee in the BSSA break rooms too many times to count, with late-night talks about anything and everything. So, it wasn’t the first time she made you a drink… but it was Christmas–everything felt extra special, you supposed, especially since it’s been a while since you saw her. 

A sense of someone lingering behind you made you turn around to see Chris lingering in the hallway, a mug in his hand too. You raised your eyebrow in question and he just shrugged, walking towards you and Claire. “Just gonna squeeze right past ya,” he said with yet another smirk, hand reaching up to the doorway as he walked past. Claire rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Just like old times, I swear,” she laughs, thinking of childhood memories–wanting to be tall enough to touch the doorway and all that. 

Your eyes narrowed and looked over to Chris who looked over his shoulder, giving you a thumbs up and a smirk yet again. You furrowed your eyebrows with a questioning look but looked back at Claire yet again, stirring the marshmallows in her hot chocolate. 

“You’re not going anywhere soon are you?” She asked, tilting her head slightly. You shook your head, mind racing with the fact she wanted to know, probably wanting you around–it made you want to beam. 

“I’ve done enough work abroad for now, I hate being away from everyone…” you replied, looking up briefly at her through your lashes as you took a sip of your hot chocolate. Sure, you missed friends and everyone else but you hoped she caught your glance on the word ‘everyone’–you missed her mostly, and didn’t even realize how much you did until you saw her today. Just her smile alone made you tremble, your feelings threatening to overflow out of your body. 

“Good.” Claire’s free hand reached out to yours, your fingers brushing against each other so gently before they interlocked–Claire squeezed your hand as if reinforcing her word and all you could hear was your heart pounding in your ears, muffling the others’ voices from the living room next to you and the hum of Christmas music playing softly on speakers.

Her blue eyes glance upwards, avoiding your gaze–was she as jittery as you? Surely not, you thought. She blinked almost in realization and tilted her head up to the top of the doorway you both were standing under. It only became clear why–for the first time all day–her cheeks flushed a shade of red until you looked up and saw the small mistletoe, smaller than a hand, hanging directly above you both–stuck on there with a rushed piece of tape. Chris… you thought as you looked away and desperately tried to play off your nervous heart that you swore was going to beat straight out of your chest any minute now. So that’s what he was doing… you would roll your eyes if you weren’t feeling like a heart attack was coming. A ‘friend’ would laugh this off, yet here you were melting into the door behind you. 

“Oh… mistletoe,” Claire pointed out in a lowered tone, almost a whisper. You noticed the metal spoon in her mug began to rattle quietly as her hand began to tremble just like yours. Your hands were still entwined but this time, you squeezed her hand and immediately wanted to take it back when she looked down back at you, right into your eyes. A slew of questions raced in your mind about whether you overstepped, fear froze you. You tried to hear above your poor heart going crazy and pounding in your ears to hear if the others were still talking. They were–it was just you and Claire in what seemed like a bubble of, what felt like, very warm air and the scent of pine and vanilla that you could get addicted to.

“That means we have to kiss, right?” She asked with an amused but bashful smile, tilting her head in question. She had no idea how beautiful she looked to you, with a slight flush on her cheeks and the sheer sheen of red lipstick on her lips. 

“Well…” you started but didn’t know what to say, knowing you were making it a bigger deal than it was–laugh it off in a friend kind of way, you told yourself but you couldn’t help but mumble ever so quietly and barely audible “I wouldn’t mind.”

“Hm?” Claire asked with a prompting but shy glint in her eye and her head tilted in curiosity that told you she heard exactly what you said. She inched just slightly closer–nowhere near enough to kiss you but it still took your breath away. 

“I wouldn’t mind,” you said a bit louder, this time, not a mumble–gaining just a bit of confidence after she inched closer. Every part of you felt like it was screaming with some mix of excitement and fear still but the look in her sparkling blue eyes… wasn’t friendly or scared or joking, you could only chalk that up to her wanting this? 

“C’mere,” she whispered and the sincerity and yearning in her voice made you part your lips slightly in surprise and inch your face closer to hers. You place a tentative slightly trembling hand on her hip and she places a hand on the side of your neck, her fingers on your flushed and warm cheek. 

You don’t even know who moved first, who placed their lips on the other’s first, all thoughts were screams and consumed with how surreal this felt after all these years. Claire’s lips were soft, as you expected them to be when your thoughts trailed off into daydreams about kissing her. The kiss was shy, tentative, testing the waters, both of you too scared to try more just now. But just the act of that gentle kiss made the two of you, pulling away, suddenly unable to keep those feelings that have been simmering and bubbling to the surface all these years. 

Claire’s eyes darted up to yours, still in a daze on how this was reality, not a dream. You searched her eyes for any sign of disappointment or regret and saw only yearning for more and the realization that this had been kept too late, you nervously chuckled in relief and she flashed you a smile in return–soothing all of your worries. 

Your eyes dart back to the living room, wondering whether anyone saw, only to see the others still chatting, drinking, and eating snacks. Claire pays it no mind and just admires you instead, her eyes only on you. Chris walks past, coming from the kitchen, and you shoot him an embarrassed but teasing look, knowing about the mistletoe. He only winked back with another smirk, clearly figuring out what happened, and went to sit with the others–making you bite the inside of your lip in a mix of gratitude and embarrassment at his set-up.  

“You’re cute when you’re shy,” Claire said with an admiring and teasing grin as she tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, making you lean your cheek into her touch, smiling and almost giggling in disbelief that all of this–what you had dreamed of, apart from Chris being your wingman–just happened. Claire’s eyes darting back and forth between your eyes and your lips made you press your lips against hers again, reveling in the feeling. The feelings have overflowed now and combined with Claire’s feelings for you, you both swam in the pleasure of being accepted and open with each other… all this time. 

thank you for reading! . more redfield fluff . masterlist

© emilzke : please do not copy, translate, or repost my works.

[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)

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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!

[kotoriarlert]

Jill: I sleep with a knife under my pillow

Claire: I sleep with a gun under my pillow

(Name):You're all pathetic

Claire: Oh yeah? What do you sleep with?

(Name): Leon

[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

[phoenixmetaphor]

bonus:

[roseglazedlens]

Okay let's forget about all the agents Kennedy, alcohol and trauma in RC, Ada...ect,and turn to Leon s Kennedy as Your husband's policeman 36years is receiving a promotion to Chief Police Officer cuz I can't see my bbguy suffer more :(,you can add some nsfw if you want to

thank you for requesting lovely! i'm sorry i write so much angst hahhaha, but here is a change of pace! i've never written anything purely fluff (lol) and so many characters, so this is a challenge! i hope you enjoy!

⦑ take me home ⦒✶.*

pairing(s): leon kennedy x gn! reader synopsis: you throw a surprise party for your boyfriend's last day at work after his job promotion. content: pure fluff, established relationship, flirting, alcohol, leon is tipsy, but he's cute & not depressed ab it. claire, rebecca, jill & chris works in RPD. « 1 k words┇masterlist┇ao3┇reblogs appreciated! »

Today is an unusual sight for the usually hectic police department in Raccoon City. The office is adorned with balloons, garlands, and laughter, celebrating not just the promotion of a well-loved officer, Leon S. Kennedy, but also his farewell as he relocates to a new precinct.

You should be happy for your boyfriend – and you are – but part of you will miss watching over his figure from your desk, casting flirtatious grins back and forth in attempts to distract each other from the rigorous paperwork.

A banner suspends between the light fixtures, observing the lopsided words ‘CONGRATULATIONS’, strings twisted into the knot. The culprit of this handiwork, Chris, puffs out his chest proudly, while Rebecca looks at him in disbelief.

“Chris, leave the decorations to Rebecca, please.” You break apart the squabble forming between them. Rebecca smirks as Chris descends the ladder, defeated. “Don’t forget everyone, this is supposed to be a surprise.”

“Claire, where is the card?” You interrogate the next person in your line of sight, who happens to be Claire. All whilst you signal Rebecca to tilt the banner slightly upwards. “Has everyone signed?”

“Yep. It’s just you left.” She hands over the card, before resuming to the case files on her computer.

The card scrawls with heartfelt blessings from your team, a lot of ‘good lucks’, ‘we’ll miss you’, and nostalgia when he was just a rookie. He worked hard for ten years to be a sergeant, and you know he deserves this.

You pick up your pen – contemplating the words to express how amazing he is, how you will love him forever, how you will miss the sneaky make-out sessions in the work janitor’s closet.

…Marvin will be so proud of you. Yours, ....

The vibration in your pocket cuts you off mid-sentence – Jill. She is supposed to be on the case with Leon for another thirty minutes. You read the text out loud.

“I can't hold him back much longer, we're on our way. ETA in five minutes!!”

The floor scrambles in panic to finalise their positions. Rebecca quickly secures the banner with some tape. Claire is passing party poppers. Chris is putting away the ladder to the storeroom.

As Jill enters the space with Leon following behind, all the confetti releases at once.

The rainbow plastic ribbons catching in his hair like stardust in sand. You catch a glimpse of surprise in his reaction, following with a light on the corner of his lips.

“To Leon!” your team lifts their glasses high in the air, sipping beers and cocktails all night. Leon is the star tonight – you can barely talk to him without two other people buying him drinks all night along.

You catch him a whole two hours later in the circle booth, after some of the crowd has dispersed, his cheeks redden from the many drinks consumed all in a few hours. You squeeze yourself through three different people to sit yourself next to Leon.

“Having fun?” You try to get his attention by nudging at his forearm. “Don’t get too drunk though, I have to take you home.”

Leon lifts his gaze, when he sees you right by him, a grin tug at his face almost immediately. His cerulean eyes somehow more glazy than usual.

“Thank you for doing all of this. You are so good for me.” Despite the scent of beer merging with his breath, the grin on his face remains childlike. One that you only see in his drunkenness, which he lets down his guard to show more of his emotional side.

“Everyone helped. Not just me.” You are thinking how cute Leon looks when he’s drunk. “You are well-loved in here. I’m just the facilitator.”

“How about you work for me?” Leon brings the back of your palm to his lips. “I can pull some strings, now that I’m sergeant.”

“Sergeant Kennedy, using your influence for personal goals? It’s not even your first day.” You quip with a slight chuckle.

“And what if I am?” He peppers kisses from your palm to your fingers, the faint heat from his lips sizzle through your nerves. “Sure you’ll enjoy less time on the field, and more time in my office.”

“Well, if that’s the case.” You decide to let this banter go on a little further. “I expect to be well-compensated for my extra duties.”

“That will depend on your performance.” He raises a sassy eyebrow, pulling you closer until your noses touch.

“Good thing I always hit my KPI’s.”

“I do like a hardworking employee…”

Eyes fluttering shut slowly, you smile into the kiss. His lips lay gently on yours, sucking slightly at your cupid’s bow. Your bodies move closer, so close that you rests your hand on Leon’s thigh for support. The kiss deepens further, sloppier, tongues intertwined until…

“Ahem.” Chris clears his throat loudly, snapping you back to the present.

You open your eyes to find the whole table staring at the two of you. Your gaze finds its way to Jill, which she immediately, most awkwardly, rolls her eyes to the ceiling as if there is something to see there. Claire is nonchalant, sipping her beer and simply enjoying the scene.

You retract the tongue that is still shoved in Leon’s mouth. A hint of pink is running up your cheeks, you don’t need to see it to feel it. Leon, however, is unphased by the attention from his coworkers. Perhaps it’s the alcohol, perhaps it’s knowing that he won’t be seeing these guys next Monday.

“So… next rounds on me. Who’s in?” Chris attempts to diffuse the awkwardness, which earns a few curt nods from the table.

Leon holds you by the hand, picking you up from the seat. “Sorry Chris, we’re gonna call it. It’s been a long night. Thanks for the party, everyone.”

You two shuffle past Chris and Jill out of the booth, after a round of hugs with everyone, you can practically feel Leon sprinting out the bar.

“How ‘bout we continue where we left off at my place?”

Your cheeks turn a deeper red. It seems like he will be the one to take you home tonight instead.

thanks for reading! come check out my other works. ––yours truly, rose. tags: @carlosgf @sporeghost (pm me for tags) © roseglazedlens - please do not repost, plagiarise, or feed to ai.

[underscorewriting]

Coming back home.

Chris Redfield x reader

Warnings: angst (literally just angst)

Word count: 1538

Weeks. Maybe even months have passed since he last returned home. At first it hurt him to stay away for so long, but now? He was more unsure of how he should even explain why he stayed away for so long, why he couldn‘t have returned home. How his last mission made him have to leave a man, a friend, alone to die. How he had to pretend to kill his friends wife and kidnap his baby just to get him to go there.

How could he ever return to his family after ruining theirs? What gave him the right to have a perfect family at home when Ethan died trying to protect his?

But his family was back at home waiting for him ever since he stepped out of the front door. Leaving his wife with his baby alone. Leaving the responsibility of a loving husband and father behind him. He thought he could return soon after he left but the way things turned out to be made him dread to come back home, to tell her about what he did, what kind of man he had become and how he killed someone, sent someone to their death, for a mission.

So he turned to the only thing he knew, alcohol. He has been sitting in bars for over a month. Drink after drink in his hand. Drinking the pain and worries away the way he did before Piers found him. Only this time he can‘t forget anything, he can‘t forget the pain in Mias voice as she thought Ethan would come with Chris onto the plane, that Ethan would flee. But he went back. Nightmares haunted him ever since. Seeing himself walking back, her, his love screaming his name, sobbing. Then he‘d wake up. Drenched in sweat. He started hating himself each night a little more.

It hurt him to keep his wife in the dark about all of this, to not tell her where he is right now. Her messages got shorter, but the pain and hurt in them grew. He felt her desperation through the screen. He felt as if their connection grew weaker, not his love for her though. It wouldn‘t go away. It couldn‘t. and after everything he did these past years, her feelings didn‘t grow weak either, not even after how he was treating her right now. He didn’t respond to the texts, not one. He could imagine her hurt whenever she saw the little ‚seen‘ on the bottom of her messages. It didn‘t feel great to treat her like this, how could it? She was all he adored. And he knew he wouldn‘t stop adoring her, not for a long time.

But as her messages grew more desperate, so did his need to drink. His need to forget. His need to come home.

He couldn‘t come back. What would she think of him? Think of his actions?

As Chris was in his misery so was his wife. His wife back at home barely had any sleep, she couldn‘t, because what if Chris would come back? Text her back? Tell her that he needs help, that she should contact Leon, Jill or maybe even Claire. She had to be ready. Not one time did she think she could find her husband anywhere near a bar, not after his history of drinking. „I don‘t care what happened, please just come home. Just come home to me.“ Seen. Oh how she wished, he‘d just write the smallest respond.

Each day she cried herself to sleep, each day she only woke up to take care of their child.

„Claire stopped by today, she said I should give up on you.“

„I can‘t give up on you.“

„I don‘t want to.“

Her messages grew sadder.

„Chris, I need you home.“

„I need to know you‘re safe.“

Seen.

Seen.

Seen.

A small sign that he‘s still alive.No, a small sign that he night be still alive.

„Caroline just turned four, she misses her daddy.“

Seen.

Then one night. 6 months had passed since he first left. One night the front door opened. Loud banging was heard from downstairs, scaring her out of the little sleep she could get. She was scared, because at this point the idea of someone breaking in was more realistic than Chris coming home. It was sad, that the first thing that came to her mind was someone breaking and not her husband coming home. The banging continued, it might‘ve even grown louder, but in her state of shock she wouldn‘t be able to tell. Slowly she took one of the pistols Chris hid in their drawer. She couldn‘t handle guns. She never had to. Chris always assured her she wouldn‘t have to use it. But right now she needed it, the thought of someone hurting her, hurting her baby, filled her with fear.

Her feet quietly took her to her daughters room, stoping at the door to check on her. Nothing. A sigh of relief left her as she continued her way. At least her daughter was asleep safe and sound. Walking downstairs she heard quiet curses, causing her heart to drop.

“Chris?”

Her voice was filled with pain, she did not look like the girl, no the woman, he had left behind. In her place was a Wrack, only barely could you recognize the beauty in her. It was his fault. All of this was his fault. He did not just ruin the Winters family, no, he ruined his own. The one he worked so hard on. The one he should’ve protected and came home to.

It all dawned to him. If he would’ve just come home when the mission was done…

And for the first time in months, he allowed himself to feel.

To feel the guilt.

The anger.

The pain.

It all hit him like a truck. Crashing into his open arms, wrapping its fingers around his heart and just started squeezing. Squeezing until his eyes welled up with tears and he cried. He cried for the winters. He cried for his own family and he cried for her. For the woman he ruined. For the mother of his child. His wife. The person that supported him by everything he did, everything he ever planned. Everything he was. And him? He left her, left her alone to rot , knowing she had a hard time without him there, had a hard time in general with even just talking to people. He left her alone and ruined her. How could he do this to her?

To their daughter?

To their family?

A soft hand on his cheek made him flinch, the common touch of a lover scared him. Made him fear that he ruined it, Made him fear that if he’d open his eyes again, she would be gone. Fearing that none of this is real. That she‘s not real.

How did he even end up back at home? He didn‘t know, he didn‘t care.

He could only remember some snippets of how he got here. How the taxi driver looked at him disgusted.Had he looked so bad? He hadn`t shaved since he left home, probably reeked of whiskey. That fucking whiskey.

But nothing mattered, not now. Not the whiskey or how he got here. All that matters is the way her touch felt in his rough skin, how he was barely worth being under her gentle gaze. A sob ripped through him. A repeating mumble of apologies left his lips over and over again, tears just continued to fall, continued to soak her fingers, but she never took her hand away, she wouldn‘t dare. „Shh… it‘s okay, you‘re home. You‘re safe.“ Her whispers felt like prayers that could safe his soul, could make him forget his pain and his troubles… But they could not undo his sins. Could not undo how he killed his friend.

„I did something…“ His sobs broke her heart, the way the words left him made her heart stop for a second. „I couldn‘t safe him.“ His fingers were clawing on her arm, desperately trying to hold her closer, she did notwithstanding it, she kneeled down next to him and let him embrace her, use her for his own comfort. It did not matter to her that she was hurting in this moment or the past months. All that mattered to her was that he was there. it felt like a dream and if it was, she wouldn‘t want to wake up.

His head was nestled in the crock of her neck, the tears wouldn#t stop falling. Both of them weren’t able to tell who they were from. The pain they shared in this exact moment made them feel something, feel alive for the first time. Chris felt sober, his mind was clearer than ever before. And her? She stayed quiet, let him talk, eat him cry as tears fell from her eyes. She wasn#t crying for her broken heart, no, she was crying for the broken little boy in her arms. The boy that clung onto her like she wold disappear if he just let go.

Minutes, maybe even hours passed before both of them realized that Chris was finally home.

[p0rkbun]

❝ you look horrendous ❞— reader

❝ well you look absolutely gorgeous today, baby ❞ —

Amber Freeman, Rebekah Mikaelson, Cassandra Dimitrescu, Claire Redfield, Santana Lopez, Hitch Dreyse, Ymir, Cheryl Blossom, Heather Chandler, Yang Xiao Long, Lapis Lazuli, Tory Nichols

°.✧•—✦

[funniestpersonalivefr]

claire redfield relationship headcanons

nsfw under the cut (mdni)

mostly gender neutral, mentions of afab anatomy not proofread (credit to who owns the image i found it on pinterest)

claire redfield! who cannot sleep without you being next to her

claire redfield! who always has to have her hands on you, your touch putting her at ease

claire redfield! who comes home after her work at terrasave to find you on the couch

claire redfield! who likes to press soft kisses on your head every chance she gets

claire redfield! who will wake you up by leaving soft gentle kisses all over your face till you are left a giggling mess

claire redfield! who gushes about you to her brother, chris, telling him how she's gonna marry you

claire redfield! who trusts you to clean her wounds and often comes home cut and bruised because she'd rather have you take care of her

claire redfield! who likes to take baths with you, as it brings her a rare moment where she can relax

claire redfield! who dances with you in the kitchen as you guys bake, both of you covered in flour

claire redfield! who sometimes lays next to you awake at night whispering about how much she loves you

nsfw

claire redfield! who climbs into your lap the moment she gets needy

claire redfield! who starts kissing your neck, nibbling on that sweet spot. you can feel her grin when a moan slips your lips

claire redfield! who has been grinding on you the entire time as she starts slipping her hands under your shirt

claire redfield! who gets what she wants when you flip her over, pinning her down under you

claire redfield! who watches you undress, biting her lip at the sight of your perfect tits

claire redfield! whose breathing picks up when you grab her by her legs, dragging her closer to you as you spread them

claire redfield! who loses her mind as you tease her clothed pussy, wet spot forming on her panties. she bucks her hips up eager

claire redfield! who whines when you finally take her panties off and press your mouth to her clit, letting your fingers graze lightly over her hole

claire redfield! whose back is arched as you fingers and mouth work magic on her, the sounds of her moaning and her pussy being fingered fill the room

claire redfield! whose thighs lock around your head as she finally climaxes, her hands tangled in your hair as your face is coated with her slick

[carame1bunny]

‎ ⋆˖⁺‧₊☽KINKTOBER 2024☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

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Hello, my darlings! Welcome to my very first Kinktober Masterlist! IThis month and it’s fanfics will contain Resident Evil Characters and 18+ content, so read at your own risk! This will be a blast, and enjoy!🦇 Likes and comments are always very much appreciated<3

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⋆˖⁺‧☾October 1st: Breeding kink w/Chris Redfield

your husband, Chris Redfield, has one desire. one that only you could help with, to make him a dad (and continue the Redfield bloodline)

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⋆˖⁺‧☾October 2nd: Morning sex w/Ashley Graham

is there anything better than taking care of your girlfriend, whose period leaves her with pain? of course, having to take care of your girlfriend, who is needy and whiny for you and your body.

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⋆˖⁺‧☾October 3rd: Lingerie w/Jill Valentine

you’re shopping, when you spot a lingerie store… and there is no harm with surprising your girlfriend with a sexy set, as long as she is the one who gets to take it off of you.

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⋆˖⁺‧☾October 14th: Blood kink w/Ada Wong

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⋆˖⁺‧☾October 16th: Toys w/Rookie Leon Kennedy

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⋆˖⁺‧☾October 17th: Double penetration w/Chris Redfield & Leon Kennedy

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⋆˖⁺‧☾October 19th: Roleplay w/Chris Redfield & Leon

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⋆˖⁺‧☾October 20th: Toys w/Jill Valentine & Claire Redfield

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⋆˖⁺‧☾October 22nd: Breeding kink w/Leon Kennedy

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⋆˖⁺‧☾October 24th: Caught masturbating w/Chris Redfield & Leon Kennedy

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⋆˖⁺‧☾October 26th: Hate sex w/Leon Kennedy

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⋆˖⁺‧☾October 28th: Virginity loss w/Rookie Leon Kennedy

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⋆˖⁺‧☾October 31st: Aphrodisiac w/Chris Redfield & Leon Kennedy

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[mamirhodessxox]

Serving for our CUNTry

Damnation!Leon Kennedy x Model!Reader

Desc- Your a well know Runway model for VS & other companies dating Leon who is infact a Government agent. Unfortunately for you Leon’s team was low on backup since last mission going to complete shit which is how you ended up being recruited for the 1 time & it is a HOT mess.

Content- Mentions of ‘Bimbo’, Hints of sex, Violence, Semi gore details, funny ff this time, Reader serving for our CUNTry, bimbo!reader

{~I'm very serious with you guys interacting with my writing!!!! it would make me so happy & excited, the more comments & reposts the more inspiration i have to write :) Votes and comments are strongly appreciated so please COMMENT COMMENT COMMENT COMMEENNTTT the more comments the more content <3!!!~}

“Baby we need to recruit you for backup.” Is the words you absolutely did NOT want to hear ever in your life when dating Leon.

“So your telling me you expect me to go out on a mission with you in the middle of fucking China and use missiles & guns that I have never ever touched given the fact that all I know what to do is walk down a fucking runway and look pretty?” You spoke as Leon hesitantly nodded “Yes.”

Absolutely fucking not. no. no. no. NO! “Leon I’m literally a victoria secret model & you trust me with a fucking MISSILE?” And then he sat tapping his shoe before shrugging. “Maybe?” NO! BAD LEON! BAD! “Y’know what if I’m gonna be serving for this country involuntarily i might as-well do it how I want to do it understood?”

Leon regretted this decision immediately. He trained you for MONTHS. You were right, you were definitely better at walking down the runway in 6 inch heels than shooting a gun but who cares right? Everybody apparently. When you guys were deployed onto the mission Chris judged you HEAVILY for literally wearing Bright pink high heel pumps, the smallest skirt & crop top that had the words “Serving for my CUNTry.” With your hair in literal pigtails. If you weren’t the queen of bimbos right now then he didn’t know who was.

You all split up into duos in some random rank facility & you obviously went with Leon. Everything was going smooth at first. Until you were being chased by some random fucking creature “GOD DAMNIT Y/N SHOOT THE FUCKING THING!” “I’M A MODEL NOT A FUCKING GUN LORD LEON!” As it kept getting closer you heard a loud gunshot & nearly choked on your bubble gum.

“Oh my god you shot it!” You gasped and poked your heel at the fucked up creatures gooey head & gagged “I thought I trained you how to use a gun sweetheart.” You furrowed your brows & scoffed while your hands were on your hips “Yeah & then I realized I shouldn’t even be 0.1 millimeters away from one.” Leon pinched the bridge of his nose before running his hands down your arms “Sweetheart now is not the time to walk the runway and look pretty. You need to use the fucking gun.” You rolled your eyes “This is NOT it Leon I hope you know this.” Somehow Leon found this strangely attractive. Whether it was the current skimpy outfit you were wearing or just your attitude in general but he knew when you both got home you were in for a surprise for sure.

Hours later you were literally STRUTTING and I mean fucking STRUTTING SERVING CUNT SERVING THE RUNWAY VOGUING CUNTY into some random room after seeing Jill being nearly attacked by a bunch of the infected. You completely forgot what to do but you realize you had very sharp heels & also a gun so you put it to your own creative cunty use. In one hand you were shooting off a few of the infected and in the other you were holding your pump slamming the heel into the head of some of the zombie like people. Jill sat in a corner breathing heavily just watching in pure amazement before you flung the gunk of brains off your heel before slipping it back on.

You squealed and jumped up and down clapping “Oh my god I ate that!! Did’ya see that Jill! I TOTALLLYYY served cunt!!” Jill lightly smiled not even knowing what that meant “You sure did..” when you guys caught up with the rest of the group Jill took Leon aside “She killed half of them with her fucking pumps Leon.” He furrowed his brows “I’m sorry?? She saved you with a literal SHOE?” She nodded her head & looked over at you while you were explaining what ‘Serving Cunt’ even meant to Chris.

The team genuinely thought you were some bimbo but you somehow saved all of their asses. Even after the mission you were given some sort of Medal & grimaced at it “What the hell is that?” Leon chuckled rubbing your shoulders as you genuinely hated the fact that they gave you a medal that wasn’t even pink & cute.

One night you were appearing in yet another fashion show. The group had came for support & Leon watched as you strut down the stage & posed. Claire was in utter awe of you & Chris like a supportive father.

You were definitely made for the runway. Which would somehow be perfect for Leons next mission..

xtripleiiix’s Masterlist

A/N- OKAY I LOVE model!reader & leon!!! READER SERVED SOOO MUCH CUNT & I WANNA WRITE MORE AB HER & LEON HOW DO WE FEEL ABOUT THIS?

🏷️ list: @ginswife @coolpastelartshoe @greatkoalawizard @cokolin044 @kotoriarlert @alicerosejensen @bunnybot55 @valkyrurx @agent-dessis-posts

[ymirluvs]

cant do short fics/imagines for the life of me. everything ive written has turned into a whole ass novel with 50 plot points- im just a serial yapper

[thepunkranger]

Cleon Pregnancy AU?

Leon refuses to have another drink the second he finds out. He claims it’s in solidarity with Claire, but in reality it’s the exact excuse he’s been looking for to break that bad habit.

Sherry is the first person they tell. Of course she is. Why would they not tell their first daughter that she’s going to be a big sister?

Leon is 100% the overly doting, constantly concerned dad trope. He wants everything to be perfect and to do everything for Claire because she works hard and deserves to be cared for.

Chris doesn’t seem to have much of a reaction when he finds out, to the point where Claire starts to feel hurt. She thought out of everyone her big brother would be happy for her… He shows up at their door a week later with a bottle of sparkling cider and a baby-sized motorcycle jacket and can’t stop gushing about how excited he is to be an uncle.

Sherry, finally out from under the government’s thumb, moves into the spare bedroom so that she can be there to help with the new baby and be part of their life.

Leon fights tooth and nail for paternal leave from the DSO, to the point where he ends up playing every “golden boy” card he has and even calling in a favor from Ashley’s dad for help. Hunnigan sends him home with a set of onesies and a promise that there’ll be hell to pay if anyone tries to drag him back to work early.

Claire holds it together for a long time - she’s always wanted to be a mom, even if she didn’t believe it would happen at times, and she’s absolutely over the moon to see and feel their baby growing inside of her. It’s only once they’ve finished setting up the nursery that she breaks down.

It’s been too long. Too much has happened. She must be insane and selfish for wanting to bring a baby into a world where everyone she knows has their lives on the line in a fight against literal monsters every day. Sherry sits with her on the nursery floor and reminds her that she’s the greatest mom she’s ever had, and that every last one of them is gonna help to make sure her baby has the best life possible.

There’s a teddy bear with a red bow around its neck by the front door one day. None of them say it out loud, but they know who it’s from, and Leon makes sure it gets put in a spot where it can keep watch.