#come back when you've seen the people who had their homes burned down try to find a way to afford to live in the unstable housing crisis

[piplupod]

I feel like if people witnessed the evacuees firsthand and also were in danger of having to evacuate themselves they'd maybe understand. or if they saw the towns that are burned down, literally just ashes and charred wood, then they'd understand. or theres a wildfire raging across the highway and their family members are stuck on the other side of the forest fire, then maybe they'd understand.

but noooo right now its just a funny joke to everyone because all they're dealing with is the smoke.

[astridthevalkyrie]

tw: dubcon, noncon, bully!gojo, afab reader w/ she/her pronouns

Gojo's a sick fuck.

He corners you on campus in the strangest places, taking advantage of the fact that he's been here a year longer than you. Sometimes Getou or Ieiri are with him, but most of the time he's alone, and when he's alone he's even worse than when he's just putting on a show for his dickhead friends. They only get to bear witness to him teasing you from afar, just his general idiocy and inborn cruelty. When he's by himself, though, nothing stops him from trying to corner you literally, one hand on the wall next to your head and the other finding some excuse to touch you, either running a finger down your cheek or brushing some invisible dust from your shoulder.

And you've had enough. You just want to find a place to sit down and study or read or eat or literally anything else as long as you don't have to worry about the only guy who tormented you all throughout school continuing the cycle in university where you were supposed to be free from this, this cocky, stupid, bitch.

You're in the library today, but his approach is the same as it is in any other location. Your physics lab, outside a professor's office, the community pool, for Christ's sake. First, he makes his presence known, making you aware that he's being his usual creepy self. This time, he's leaning against the wall when you turn the corner behind one of the shelves. There's a book in his hands that has so many dog ears you think he reads one page then saves the literal next one for the following day.

He doesn't look up, not right away. Not until he feels you glare burning his skin for a good few seconds. It's when you assume the burn actually becomes painful that he looks up, feigning a surprised smirk as his icy blues practically gleam. "Fancy seeing you here," he purrs, book staying open in his hands.

"Go to hell, Satoru." There's no point engaging further with him. The only option you have is to get the hell out before he gets to touch you. If he touches you, it's all over. You turn on your heel and throw a quick thank you prayer out that you don't immediately bump into Getou, who would act as the other mousecatcher whenever Gojo decided he wanted to play.

Behind you, you hear him put the book down and your legs move faster without you even thinking about it. You don't even know how he always tracks you down. Maybe he installed some app on your phone without you realizing. You'll get a new one. Anything to just get rid of him.

Even though you've been on campus for at least a month now, virtually every building is still wholly unexplored, mostly because you're constantly trying to avoid these exact types of situations. The amount of times you could have stayed on campus but instead scurried home is already close to the triple digits. And for what? You've only avoided Gojo a handful of times and left yourself unprepared for a hasty escape too.

There's footsteps somewhere, and now that your heart is racing you can't calm down enough to pinpoint where they're coming from. It's a Friday night and not even close to midterm week, so there's a few regulars here, but not nearly enough people that someone will see you. Not that Gojo minds, you've seen him look someone dead in the eye and then squeeze your hip impatiently, as though to tell them do you mind? You don't know where he gets his confidence, but whatever it is, it's well earned. Everyone gives in to him, eventually. Even you.

You turn out of yet another aisle, and then your legs falter.

"Hey, sweetness," he grins at you. Your back hits the wood behind you and your bag thumps to the floor. On days where he wants to really torture you, Gojo acts like a charmer, kissing the back of your hand or carrying your bag over his shoulder, preening in the direction of anyone who calls him a good boyfriend, singing a sinister thanks knowing damn well he isn't your anything.

This isn't one of those days. You can tell.

Gojo doesn't want to be your boyfriend anymore than you want to be his girlfriend. He likes his lifestyle, and an average stick in the mud like you would definitely ruin the perfect image. But that doesn't mean he wants you out of his life completely. When he'd learned you'd be going to the same university as him, he'd sent you the only text message he'd ever sent you, a filthy picture captioned with a sweet and simple can't wait to have you.

And have you he will, whenever he wants. He's pretty open about that. "Are you in a rush?" His blues blink innocently. You're not sure why he keeps up the act even when no one is around, it only serves to set your nerves further askew.

"Leave..." Before you can even formulate the thought of a process, his hands are on your hips, pinky finger slipping under your sweater inconspicuously. "Leave me alone, Satoru."

"Nah," he breathes, "you look real pretty today, sweetheart."

While he doesn't make a move to take your sweater off, he does bury his face in your shoulder and inhale the scent. Then he slowly switches from the sweater to your actual skin, tucking down the fabric of the turtleneck to expose your neck, which you'd taken pains and suffered the heat to hide. Gojo moans a little at just the last remaining bruise he sees on you.

"Love when you don't try to cover it up," he murmurs, "don't need you treating me like a dirty secret."

As if you could keep him a secret. No one aside from your professors even tries speaking to you, and you have no doubts as to why. "I do try—I did cover it up."

"This doesn't count." Instead of just kissing you, because he's a bitch, Gojo kisses the inside of your turtleneck, his hair tickling your nose. "I meant makeup and crap. This? S'like unwrapping a present, baby."

"Satoru," you choke. It isn't just how he touches you, it's everything. The proximity, the casual way he says the most scummy things you've heard in your life and says them like they're just simple facts.

"Normally, I'd tell someone to stop playing so hard to get after so many times. But you're special, y'know." Two fingers push your lower lip down and slide in slowly, running over your gums before violating your mouth further. "This bitchy attitude only makes me wanna have you more." He waits, waits for you to gag, to choke on his fingers and look up at him with watery, pleading eyes before he removes his fingers and slots his lips over yours.

When Gojo kisses you, it's not demanding so much as needy. For someone who already has an ego that's sky high, he still seems to want you to stroke it, and nothing strokes his ego more than the noises you make unwillingly. Every little gasp, whimper, sharp breath, he swallows possessively, as he drags his nails gently along your lower back, making you squirm closer to his mouth to get away.

He plays you like you're his favorite instrument. And he knows exactly which strings to pluck.

His tongue nips at your teeth playfully, and that's when you pull away, summoning up whatever remaining courage you have. "Someone's going to come down this way," you beg, because the only thing you haven't experienced yet is being fucked with an audience, and you're not eager to change that. "Please, Sato—"

"It's okay." The fingers that were just in your mouth a few seconds ago now slide down your waist and under your jeans, nudging them down. "Don't need any foreplay. Been hard since you walked into the library, sweetness. And I bet you've just been dripping playing tag with me. I promise one of these days you'll get to be it," he mocks, as his other hand undoes his belt.

Tears spring to your eyes, but Gojo kisses them off your eyebags before they can fall too far. "You're so tired," his voice coos, "m'gonna make it all better. I'll make you feel so good."

His hand twists into your hair, yanking it back in a single motion that must be gentle for him, but it's rough for you. It's the sting in your scalp that you focus on as he takes your hand and wraps it around his cock, making you jerk him off in preparation. It's the one thing he always demands, claiming he can't get off unless he gets to feel your touch first. Bullshit.

Once he's satisfied, Gojo moves your hand away, intertwining your fingers and placing them on the shelf next to your head as he guides his dick to your leaking pussy, sliding the first inch in with a hiss.

Praise drips from him easily like this, when he has you between him and any hard surface. The individual shelves hurt your back, but less so when he slides an arm around you, pulling you closer as he pushes in with one lazy thrust.

"Ah!" your cry catches in your throat, but he bites you, groaning with your lip caught between his teeth. He pulls out and thrusts again, and your tear slips down to your mouth this time, where he licks it off.

"God," he compliments, developing a pace that's fast but not fast enough, not fast enough to ensure you won't get caught or to make you cum, "so fuckin' glad I don't let anyone else fuck you. This cunt's only for me, yeah? Belongs to me?" When you don't answer, too focused on the feeling of him filling you, leaving you empty, and then filling you again, he speeds up. To Gojo, the more you struggle to give him what he wants, the more fair it is to make it harder.

The shelf shakes as he loves you against it, it won't fall but you fantasize about him being crushed under it anyways. Then you think about being buried under with him, completely in his clutches with no telling when you'd be able to get out, and you clench around him, eyes rolling back.

"You think there's cameras in here?" he pants, digging his nails into your skin again. The pads of his fingers press roughly under your shirt, sure to leave even more bruises for him to lavish with his tongue later, whenever he pleases. "Think someone'll see you getting railed and jack off to it? I know I would, baby. If I only got you on camera I'd be fuckin' my hand and coming on your face every night. Lucky me," he gasps, and you feel him swell inside you, "that I got the real thing all to myself."

You hate how much his voice and his words affect you, how much each filthy thought of his makes your pussy practically gush for him as one of your own fingers rubs over your clit frantically. Each squelching sound makes him more feral, till he's rattling you against the shelf, every thrust of his hips growing more frantic and more desperate.

"I'm almost there, sweetness." Gojo reaches up and squishes your cheeks together, blues blown out as he kisses your puckered lips one more time. "Answer my question, baby. Tell me whose cunt this is so I can blow my load in it. C'mon, fuck, tell me."

You let out a sob that hiccups into a moan, force out, "Yours," and cum.

Gojo whines, thrusting one, two, three more times before he's coming too, filling you up with each jerk of his hips. His head falls onto your shoulder, panting on your neck. Your turtleneck is entirely too warm now, and useless to boot. Cum drips from your pussy; Gojo slides two fingers against your hole as he pulls out, sticking them in your mouth, just at your tongue this time. You taste him and yourself, and even though he's not forcing them in further this time, you still feel like gagging.

He takes them out, then places them in his own mouth, sucking them off and groaning at the taste.

As he tucks himself back in his pants, he runs a hand through his hair, setting it back into place before dropping a kiss to your cheek. Your tears have dried now, and you're trying to ignore his cum leaking onto your panties as you pull your jeans up. You don't even want to think about how you look, or about how you'll bring yourself to another orgasm tonight thinking of this, albeit not one as good.

Patting your hip, Gojo flashes you his best grin. "See you next time, sweetness. Maybe tomorrow?" Without waiting for your reaction, he strolls off, a single hand raised in goodbye.

Wiping at your cheeks and taking out your phone, you release an angry sniff, penciling it in.

[chaosgremlinmunson]

Crush on You/ You're Mine (if only in my mind)

For @steddie-week

Prompt:July 6: dizzy/drunk confessions/Crush on You by Bruce Springsteen

Some mature content, sexual talk. MDNI 18+

Eddie was feeling the burn of the whiskey down his throat, he was glaring out into the crowd as some tall punk let his hands run over Steve, grabbing his hips, that glorious ass that Eddie fantasized about. He turned back to the bartender, Julie something, a girl who'd become close with the group. Eddie originally planned to talk Robin up to her tonight since he had sensed some mutual pining between the two, always watching the other a flush high on their cheekbones. That got derailed when almost immediately reaching the bar the duo had been swept off by strangers and now Eddie was suffering watching someone else holding the man he'd loved for the past ten years now.

Julie came up to Eddie, a refill already in hand and tipped her chin towards the devastation behind him, “I see your friends are occupied tonight.”

Eddie dropped his head onto the bar then looked up at her, “Does it ever get easier?” He asked, “aching for someone you know you'll never have?”

Julie tsked at him, and reached a hand out, flicking him in the forehead. She reached beside her and pulled out a flier showing tonight's karaoke theme he'd forgotten all about, it started soon. He raised an eyebrow.

“You know his favorite singer, come up with something eddie-spaghetti. You don't know that you can't have him unless you try.”

Eddie sat with his drink and stared at the flier, after a couple more shots of whiskey he had a plan. Albeit a stupid plan, but a plan nonetheless.

He stood walking to the booth and whispered to the DJ who raised an eyebrow until Eddie explained the choice then smirked and nodded.

A few moments later Eddie was on stage, spotlight lit on him and every nerve trying to sweat it's way out of his body, and then the music started

The first few verses were shaky at best, and then he made eye contact with Steve who was beaming at Eddie bopping along to his favorite music. He belted out pointing at Steve as the world diminished to just the two of them.

“Well now she might be the talk of high society

She's probably got a lousy personality

She might be a heiress to Rockefeller

She might be a waitress or a bank teller

She makes the Venus de Milo look like she's got no style

She makes Sheena of the Jungle look meek and mild

I need a quick shot, Doc, knock me off my feet

Cause I'll be minding my own business walking down the street... watchout!”

He went to spin out as the energy finally consumed him when a dizzy spell hit and he pinwheeled off the stage straight into Steve's arms.

Eddie stared up into those beautiful hazel eyes as he looked over Eddie checking for new injuries. When he looked back to Eddie he smiled that shy small smile Eddie loved so much and carried him bridal style over to the booth to sit them down, but kept Eddie in his arms so he was now sitting squarely in his lap.

“Careful, sweetheart, your dancefloor Casanova might get the wrong idea you holding me in your arms.” Eddie grinned.

Steve snorted at Eddie, “My only Casanova I'd give a shit about is a nerdy ass metalhead who can't seem to take a hint” Steve said back pinching Eddie squarely on his butt who squeaked and jumped.

“Hey! I'll have you know, that, wait….what?” Eddie began and stopped, eyes wide.

“Yeah, Eddie, I've danced with other people but only because you never make a move. I told you I was bisexual, I've cuddled up to you in bed, not them, I go home with you no matter where we go, in fact have you ever even seen me kiss a dance partner?”

Eddie inhaled, “Well…no.”

Steve continued, “Right, and I've always made you the little spoon when we snuggle. I pull you into my lap, you've literally woken up with me rock hard against your back numerous times and I've not once ever acted guilty. I've fixed your hair, held your hand, made you breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and I even started listening to all your music and getting invested into all your hobbies. And still, you act as though I'd give a shit about anyone else, Eds? What next, I Tattoo “I'm down bad for Eddie Munson” on my lower back and show you?” Steve took a breath, “I've loved you since the boathouse, you were what made me realize I wasn't straight. I had inklings before, but you made it clear as crystals. I don't want anyone else, just you.” He leaned his forehead against Eddie's shoulder.

“So, does that mean I can keep you forever?” Eddie said after a moment his hands finding their way to comb through that glorious head of hair.

“What it means is unless you literally throw me over the nearest cliff I'm not going anywhere. You're mine Eddie Munson, I'm going to marry you one day and become Mr. Steven Munson, I'm gonna grow old drooling over you, choking on your cock whenever I can, and pinning you to any and all surfaces I can while I make you scream my name until the world knows it. Sound good?”

Eddie let out a squawk-like laugh and pulled Steve closer, “sounds good sunshine, can we start with the choking and pinning tonight?

“Anything for you.” Steve said looking back at him eyes molten before leaning in and capturing his mouth in a mind tingling kiss.

[lapis-lights]

Chapter 03 | Kiss the Skin From My Lips

'Falling From Grace' Series

[Vendetta!Leon Kennedy x Reader]

Song Title: Call Me What You Like by Lovejoy

Content Warnings: NSFW (18+ ONLY), Unprotected p in v, Porn with feelings, Creampie, Some dirty taking but nothing too intense, The lovers in enemies to lovers

Word Count: 14.1k

Author's Notes: Chapter three of the Falling From Grace series! Sooooo....this is really my first time attempting a smut scene so criticism would be really appreciated if you have any! Otherwise, I hope you guys like this chapter :)

Posts are scheduled for 8 a.m. EST every day until the series is complete!

Series Masterlist

Ao3

Summary: As tensions ride high between you and Leon, you execute your first infiltration mission of the J.I.E. lab. What you find inside is more than just a few simple monsters, but rather a life or death situation and an experience that leaves you and Leon absolutely breathless.

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

And you can kiss the skin from my lips if it makes you feel good... I'm not sure if you want it; I'm not sure if you need me too.

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

When you wake up, there's a deep ache in your bones and you think sourly of how you're getting on in your years. 

At this point, don't people start planning their retirement homes or something? You've led anything but a normal life so really, you wouldn't know, but from what you've heard, it's gotta be something along those lines. When did your twenties end and your thirties begin?

Jesus Christ, you've let yourself go.

You start your morning routine, ignoring Leon who's still happily snoring away, and taking a trip down to the first floor to the gym room. There's some flimsy equipment down there and it's definitely not the high quality stuff you get at actual gyms or at the J.I.E.'s professional training programs, but you'll have to make do for now. 

You start with simple stretches to warm up as you ponder everything that has happened last night. 

You think about the way Ada had looked and by proxy, Leon. He's never mentioned her to you ever so you suspect there must be a reason for that. Maybe he wanted to protect her from you in case you decided to go on a rampage or something, but that didn’t make sense either. Was Leon into the type of woman that could fend for herself or did he just care if she was a looker or not?

If that’s the case, you were definitely crossed off the list. The scar tissue bears a heavy burden. 

You lose yourself in the familiar burn of exercise and it feels oddly good to hurt in the ways that tell you your efforts weren’t going to waste. Eventually, this moment of peace will come to an end just like all good things, but right now, you stay in the intensity of your workout. You don’t even notice the door opening.

It’s a guy you haven’t seen before, clean shaven and muscular. You can tell he keeps himself fit but whether it’s for work or just for show, you don’t know. He doesn’t look bad at all with dark doe eyes and light brown hair that sweeps across his forehead enticingly. 

“I didn’t know pretty girls vacationed here,” he says and you rip your eyes away from the floor to meet his. What little respect you had deluded yourself into making for him bleeds away and in a split decision, you decide to play with him just a little.

“And I didn’t know good-looking men frequented these parts,” you fire back, batting eyelashes and giving him the most innocent look you can muster. “No need to flatter. I’m sure you could pull someone better than lil’ old me.”

“Don’t put yourself down so fast, babe,” he snorts, heading for the weights and you mentally roll your eyes as you see his intent to try and impress you with reps. 

However, you keep up the disguise and take a seat on a nearby medicine ball while watching him carefully. “I’m not putting myself down–it’s the truth.”

He doesn’t answer but he does make sure to put extra emphasis on choosing a fairly heavy hand weight and beginning to rep without any warm up. Silently, you know he’ll pull a muscle eventually and all for a woman he’ll likely never see in his life again. Womanizers like him never made much sense to you, but you suppose human instincts can make people irrational at the best of times.

“So you got a boyfriend?” he asks and you hum.

Would you? Should you?

“Nobody you need to worry yourself over,” you decide on answering, which wasn’t much far from the truth itself in all honesty. “Why do you want to know?”

“I want to know if there’s anybody keeping me from taking you out.”

“You’re at a hotel,” you scoff. “Do you have anybody waiting for you back in your room?”

“Nobody you need to worry yourself over,” he grins.

So he did come here with someone. How disgusting. You’re not the most morally correct person in the world, but even you understand the basic agreement of being in a relationship, and furthermore, you kow the importance put on the concept of loyalty. Well…you know how it’s supposed to be.

“Right,” you sigh, “and what are you proposing we do?”

His eyes flash suggestively and if you had the energy, you’d projectile vomit. “I’d take you out for a real nice dinner then bring you back to mine so we could-”

He shuts up when the door flies open and Leon strides in so confidently you forget that he’s supposed to be back at the suite stuck in dreamland. However, the stormy glance he gives you is nothing compared to the downright murderous glare he directs at the guy you hadn’t bothered to get the name of.

"Woah, man," the guy says, blissfully unaware. "You must be riled up for a serious workout."

"No," Leon answers, voice clipped and tight in a way you've never heard him before. "I was just looking for my wife who happened to get a headstart in her day without me."

The guy's face pales when he motions to you and you shrug non committedly before getting up and opening the door that leads out. Leon is hot on your heels as you make your way out and it's not long before he's gripping your wrist and pulling you back to stop your stride.

"Mind telling me what the fuck that was?" He demands, keeping his voice just quiet enough to not disturb the other residents.

"I was having fun," you hum, "since you're providing no entertainment for me."

"You can't just go wandering off where I can't see you."

"I'm not a child."

“Of course you’re not, but you’re practically a walking target for any undercover agent,” he sighs as you wrench your hand from his grasp and scowl. “You scared me is all.”

The sentiment might’ve been sweeter if your brain didn’t remind you of his latenight amorous meeting with Ada and it sours your whole mood even further. Long gone is that steadily growin soft spot and it only gets replaced by stone cold bitterness. Had the world always been this dark?

You spin on your heel and ignore the confused sound Leon makes as he follows closely like he’s afraid he’ll lose you again.

“You’re losing your edge, Kennedy,” you sniff dismissively.

“What?”

“Isn't this all some complex business partnership to you?” The walk to the room seems to drag on longer than you like and the nagging feeling of his eyes on you makes you want to scream, cry, and break all at once.

“Where the hell did you get that idea from?” he asks as if this whole thing would be any different than past encounters.

You ignore him, approaching the suite and unlocking the door with your keycard and pushing through roughly, not waiting for any protest from Leon. Your brain flies with so many unanswered questions and they’re so loud that you want to fall to your knees and beg them to stop.

Unable to take it anymore, you whirl around and he almost runs into you from the abrupt halt.

“Why do you keep looking at me like that?!” You demand, bordering on a plea but he doesn’t need to know how deep the desperation went. 

His dark eyebrows knit in confusion. “Like what?”

“Like–” you struggle to form a coherent line of thought, “–with those eyes.”

You know you don’t make much sense but you can see it register in his expression, dusty blue darkening into electric and the atmosphere rapidly shifts from one emotion to another. He’s so close now, less than an arm's reach away, and he looks at you from beneath his lashes in a way that’s enough to drive you to insanity.

Why was he doing this? How was he doing this? How was Leon of all people drawing you in deep enough to get under your skin? How could he command the tension between you like it was a simple race down a one-way street and simultaneously provide no context behind his motives?

Why did Ada come by last night and how did she know who he was? How did she know you?

These questions sprout one after another like those depressing time loop videos of flowering plants. He answers none of them and it’s only all the more infuriating.

“Leon,” you swallow harshly and stand your ground. “What do you want from me?”

The question is left hanging in the air, an unoccupied noose. It’s intimidating, dread on your shoulders like a heavy burden as you wait for an answer that never comes. Leon just looks at you like he was waiting for you to come to some revelation and answer the question for yourself but no such reason comes forth.

Ridiculous. 

He does nothing, and his nonchalant exterior only makes you more infuriated and frustrated with the sensation of talking to the equivalent of a brick wall. Instead, Leon’s eyes flick around your face as if he was soaking every detail, absorbing as much as he could. You watch him warily like a hawk, wondering just how much longer the two of you could dance around this issue of unspoken feeling and silent motive.

Then, his eyes travel down to your mouth in a way you would’ve missed if you blinked. Your lips part as his tongue darts out to wet his own, the muscle gliding along his skin and leaving a light sheen of saliva behind.

The movement is miniscule but addicting all the same, and you’re almost knocked breathless with the urge to pull him close just to get his hands on your body. You want to kiss him so badly until his lips swell with the imprint of yours and his passion matches to suit your own. You want the taste of that spearmint gum he always carries around and the aura of alcohol that always stays with him no matter where he goes. 

Craving flares in your stomach as tears well in your eyes, confused and angry as to why this was happening now.

Did Leon know how much he was torturing you? Was he just pupeteering you around just to leave you cold and alone like your family, friends, and past lovers did? You wouldn’t be able to handle that–you can feel it. That would be your breaking point, your hamartia. 

Your death.

It takes all of your strength to pull away from him and his hypnotic spell though you’re not sure if he even had an inkling of the self-torment you’re undergoing with this new revelation.

He doesn’t stop you as you escape onto the balcony, slamming the sliding door closed, and gulping in the oxygen like you held your head underwater too long.

An ugly sob rips from your throat and self-loathing burns bright and hot in your gut. The heat is almost too much to handle as you hate yourself for allowing yourself to cry like this over something so miniscule and especially because of something Leon had done. He doesn’t even have the audacity to be sorry.

Still, emotions are nothing new even if your understanding of love is so warped beyond repair. You’re stronger than this. You’re better. You have to be.

Your knees give out and you have no choice but to fall onto one of the patio chairs and let the numbness spread through your body. The tears begin drying tracks on your cheeks as new ones follow the path of the old, but you don’t have the heart or energy to wipe them away.

What were your feelings about Leon truly? It’s obvious you don’t hate him as much as you had before and the thought of him dying now scares you more than ever. There’s still some old hate there, just behind your ribcage just waiting to explode outward again, but dulled by an entirely new portion of your brain. 

The portion of your brain that wants to kiss him. The one that wants Leon to take you out on dates and make jokes as your husband and admire him under the golden lighting of the sun. The one that charges into your old self with a fierce snarl and starts a battle for your wishes and dreams. 

Your head hits the back of the chair and you screw your eyes shut, trying to make sense of the whole entire thing. 

Nothing but the image of that desolate and dead landscape from your dream comes to mind. You can still hear the rolling thunder and cracking lightning as if it had happened right in front of your eyes. You can still feel the sticky blood on your hands and the metallic scent permeating the air as lifeless eyes had stared up at you.

Devoid of passion. Devoid of anything.

Is that what you wanted–what you wished for? Is that your happy ending? 

Somehow–for some inexplicable and unknown reason–you don't think so.

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

Guns weigh heavy in your palms, but in a cruel twist of fate, it also means home.

The power to kill someone lying in a variety of sizes are the only way to survive in your profession. That much is obvious. You've been through the same song and dance a million times over and then some–so this? This is nothing new. 

Tensions have been high in the suite as you do your level best to avoid Leon while confined to such a small space with him. Over the past couple of days, your interactions have lasted with only a few clipped words and making plans to infiltrate the lab you'd found in the clothing department dressing room. Today was the day you'd decided to put your plans into action despite how poorly they've been communicated.

You know for tag team missions like this, communication is vital. However, you can't bring yourself to care. Being dealt potential death seems much better than having to face Leon and grapple with the warring thoughts tugging between wanting to end him and wanting more with him. He doesn't make it any easier.

He's not bitter. The exterior he puts up paints him as a grumpy middle-aged man whose experiences have only made him all the more angry at the world. You know him better than that, though. That's just how he is naturally, and if he was anything but that, you would know best how to spot the signs. However, this new attitude of his is something you’ve never encountered before so it’s hard to pinpoint just exactly what state of mind he was in.

Over the course of just a couple days, you find yourself struggling to hold on to that composure you worked so hard to craft. Leon leaves you alone and allows you to have your space, but even then, it takes all of your willpower just to not stare openly. 

You indulge yourself late at night when his breathing deepens and your thoughts are just between you and whatever potential god there was. There were nights where your thoughts run rampant and take whatever chance you allow to admire him. You wish that there was something more between you emotionally and nothing physically. You want that sensation of his body on yours and what that might entail, and you want him deeper than you ever have before.

Shamefully, you wonder if he would burn just as deliciously as you imagined or if it would be more just because it's Leon. Would that controlled blaze turn into a wild forest fire under his advances? Would he steal your breath away roughly or would he take his unrelenting time to savor you all? Would he aim to watch tears roll down your cheeks or would he kiss them all away with whispers of sweet nothings?

Your enemy, putting you at the mercy of his hands and body, was a thought you kept sealed away tightly. Nobody could ever know about it.

When the morning came, you had checked your back and was delighted upon knowing that the wound had healed thanks to the full effect of Leon's questionable herbs. You'd put on your tactical gear over it, stretching to get the blood flowing and downing a coffee for good measure. 

While he's in the bathroom, you check over your weapons once more and make sure all of your guns are loaded and stocked. Running out of ammo has been the reason for near-death multiple times so it’s especially crucial that you don’t make that mistake today.

Alone with your thoughts, you finally grapple with what you’re trying to do today.

For so many years, the J.I.E. had silenced you and molded your mind and body into a perfect little war soldier under the pretenses that you were making the world a better place. You’d been a fool, blind to the millions of deaths that were paying for the price of a few lives until that veil was snatched away and revealed the horrors of humanity to you.

Your eyes shut as you remember the chains, rubbing your wrists raw as you were forced into discipline. The memory of cold metal kissing your skin before breaking through it, promising worse if you hadn’t obeyed was fresh as a morning bloom in your head. Your own screams had sounded like they were from someone else, leaving your throat torn and your vocal cords frayed. 

Leon would never know the extent of the pain you had gone through, even if he’s the only one that knew the basics. You were afraid of what he would think of that–of you.

He emerges finally ready and you stare wordlessly at him. A silent understanding passes between you and the two of you jump into action. 

The car ride there is a blur. Despite having walked before on your small outing when you first got here, you'd figured it would be much easier to have a getaway vehicle ready and parked a couple blocks away just in case. The store opened early, and just in time for you to sneak in inconspicuously.

Avoiding employees was easy, especially after you had swiped a keycard from the manager’s stand upon finding it carelessly abandoned. 

The dressing rooms were easy enough to get into and you led Leon into the one that you had changed in while you tried on that pretty little dress he recommended. It’s only been a few days but that night feels like it was so long ago, especially with how many cycles of emotions you’ve been subjected to since then. 

Upon removing the middle panel, holding the keycard up to the gray block causes a loud click to sound out that notifies the door has been unlocked. Uneasily, you breathe in deeply and push in. 

The interior is something you’re familiar with since it took on a similar appearance to that of the lab you’d been assigned to. However, the layout is foreign so it’s a toss in the air as to where anything could possibly be. The walls are lined with thick cords that are warm to the touch and the vibration of the lab's electricity current hums under your feet. You take out your handgun, keeping your finger off the trigger but staying alert all the same. 

Leon fires off a shot and you whirl around just in time to see a camera falling to the ground brokenly. 

The initial entrance is a straight shot but eventually you reach a hub of sorts where there are multiple tunnels branching off into different directions. Above them are signs that list the area of interest that each one led down to, ranging from dormitories to experimentations. The offices were the most dangerous to try and breach since multiple people working meant a bigger crowd to try and disperse if you got caught, though you're convinced that this place must be overrun like an ant colony.

"Where do we go from here?" Leon asks and your stomach flips. 

You haven't heard him speak since your fallout a few days ago so it's an emotional whiplash being reminded of what exactly the most miniscule things about him do to you. Things that shouldn't elicit such reactions, making your skin spark with invisible electricity and putting your brain on high alert when he so much as breathes heavier.

"Anywhere we go is gonna be crawling with workers," you answer, keeping your composure. "They're usually confined to their assigned station for the whole day before being let off to go home. We should try and go to one that has the least amount of people or the biggest advantage for us."

"Where do you propose that might be?"

You look up at the labels above the tunnels before settling on one. "The observation deck. They use it to record the progress of their bioweapons and monitor any potential dangers they might pose so they're on a tight schedule. We might be able to find something about what they're doing there."

He nods and together, you make your way through the tunnel, shooting down any more security cameras you see and testing for any potential defense mechanisms they might have installed. It's eerily quiet besides the atmospheric noises and suspicion rises in your mind as you wonder why you haven't seen anybody thus far in your journey. You'd expected a flood of scientists or at least one assassination attempt as soon as you stepped inside, but maybe this wasn't as uptight as the lab you were at.

The observation deck was a series of catwalks crossing over a large arena, presumably where they let their bioweapons roam free while they stayed a safe height away from it. From where you entered, it happens to be in the 4th level, though the platforms stretch to multiple stories above your head. It looked almost similar to the pictures of the lab beneath the white house that Wilson had hidden away with the whole incident with Jason, though this one lacked any chemical experiments in the middle. 

“Let’s go,” you whisper, pointing up to a space encased in glass. “They might have reports we can get into over there.”

Just as you go to begin walking, the static cracking of a speaker jumping to life immediately halts your steps. Leon whips around, pushing his back to yours as you defensively cover each other with your guns at the ready. There’s no telling where the speaker might be or where it was located, but the fact that it was active at all is a problem.

Then, the crackling dissipates and the voie comes through, muffled by the poor quality of a microphone.

“So you’ve finally made it,” the voice purrs through the intercom. “We’ve been expecting you.”

Neither you nor Leon answer, swiveling around and searching for any oddities while keeping your wits as the speaker crackles again and clears.

“Unfortunately, we don’t appreciate outsiders much, Agent (L/n). You should know that more than anybody.”

You grit your teeth, trying not to let their words get underneath your skin. 

“Ah, well. You were a valuable asset to us. It’s so unfortunate we’ll have to do some clean-up, so to speak.” 

Beneath you, something crashes against the wall with a violent boom and the dark growl of something massive reverberates through the whole entire room. A sick sort of dread grows as you look down before glancing back at Leon who’s sharing the same thought process as you are. It’s not that hard to deduce what would happen next, and silently, you pray to whatever’s out there that you would make it out of this thing alive. 

“You really need to work on your speeches, pal,” Leon snaps and you would’ve laughed if you weren’t stuck in such a precarious and unpredictable situation. 

“And you need to work on your manners, Mr. Kennedy,” the voice cackles, all ugly and sounding like they were hacking up a lung. “You’ll be regretting those words when you’re dead. Entertain the animal for me, will you?”

The speaker clicks off just as a metal door below flies off its hinges and nearly blows through the wall of the arena below. You break from the formation you and Leon had set up to look down at what you’re up against and your eyes widen with horror. It’s got multiple appendages whipping out from every limb, taking on the sick appearance of some mutated spider. Multiple eyes glow yellow as it glances around before zeroing in on you above it.

“Leon,” you mumble, backing up and he only gets a sparse good look at what you're up against before he’s grabbing your wrist and sprinting down the catwalk. 

The beast screeches upon seeing its target on the move and one of those long arms shoots upward to latch onto the railing of the walkway. You just barely make it onto safe ground before it’s yanked away and the whole path crashes to the ground. Panic curls in your chest as you remember what had happened the last time you had faced off a bioweapon, and you start running after Leon once you gain your bearings.

All along the sides are countless offices that hold large filing cabinets, though they hardly matter in this chase scene. The monster hisses, spitting something before launching upward and beginning to climb the walls rapidly towards you. You’re able to deter it with a couple well-aimed shots to its head but, it only makes it angrier as well.

Once it’s up, your stomach jumps into your throat upon seeing that the thing is almost twice as tall as you are. It lumbers toward you with a hiss as it secretes acid that burns into the ground. Leon stops in front of you, pulling out a rifle and pressing the scope to his eye. You’re confused as to what his approach is until he shoots and the monster reels back in pain with a scream. When you look, you see that he’s hit one of the multiple grotesque eyeballs that embed along the legs of the mutated spider. It’s not hard to see where Leon was going with this so you take out your own rifle to join him.

Gunshots ring in your ears as you and Leon rain down hellfire, backing away every so often to put distance between you and the bioweapon. 

Leon runs up a flight of stairs before shoving himself into a crevice that's only large enough to fit one. You stumble up after him and turn onto another catwalk, looking back and almost vomiting. The ugly monster's wounds are leaking pus that chews holes into the ground it walks on, eyes flicking wildly before finding you–entirely missing Leon–and heading frantically in your direction.

Of fucking course they made all of its bodily fluids acidic. What else would you expect?

You switch out your rifle for a magnum and shoot around Leon as he brings up the rear. He works on picking off the rest of the leg eyeballs while you set to getting the fucker right in between it's menacing yellow eyes. The recoil is almost unfamiliar, but you swiftly get back into the rhythm of handling the weapon, walking back before reaching to your tactical utility belt and yanking off an incendiary grenade. 

You pull the pin, throw it, and shield your eyes from the burst of flames that erupt and start licking along the spider's body. It shrieks so ungodly loud that you would've almost clapped your hands around your ears if you didn't remember where you were and what your goal was. You reload your magnum as quickly and accurately as you can manage, and keep shooting. Leon sprints out, using the weakened legs as leverage to swing himself onto its back and start stabbing it with the combat knife he'd been hiding. 

He's a genius and lunatic all at once.

You suppose this must be nothing new to him since Leon's faced who knows how many bioweapons at this point, but this is your first time seeing it up close and personal. He fights like it's second nature–like he's simply just breathing. It's mesmerizing to watch, but the moment is over when he gets thrown off into your direction and lands heavily in front of you directly onto his arm with a pained grunt.

You wince, hoping that it hasn't been broken or dislocated, reaching out and hauling him to his feet when he accepts your hand. Together, you keep shooting as Leon pulls the pin on a hand grenade and throws it at the spider's feet. You halt, palms covering your ears as it flashes multiple times then explodes, taking the mutated monster down with it. 

Organs go flying everywhere and you duck to avoid the majority splatter of the acidic blood. The explosion causes a creak and only the middle portion of the catwalk sinks before crumbling down into the wreckage already created by the first ruined walkway. 

Leon stands up, panting heavily as he looks down into the mess below that has sparked a fire and was burning merrily as if you hadn't just killed a man-made monster. Speaking of which, whose body had joined the metal below and had speared onto the sharp pieces that jutted out like a homemade spike pitfall trap. 

He turns to you, going to open his mouth to say something but is rapidly silenced by a creaking groan and then he shouts in panic when the ground beneath his feet gives way. You gasp, lunging forward and grabbing his hand on instinct as the portion of the walkway falls into the void below and he's left dangling precariously from a fatal height with only you to hold onto. 

He glances down then back up at you, desperation in his eyes as you both come to the same realization and conclusion. 

You could kill him right now.

All you had to do was let go and it would all be over as if this never happened. He would be out of your hair and all that torment he subjected you to would dissipate like cotton candy subjected to water. This would all end if you would just take the chance to drop him into that dangerous trap where you would never have to see him again, never have to worry about him again. You could drop him and turn away without a second glance to see if he survived or not.

Leon’s eyes flash and you know exactly what it is despite never seeing it before. It’s pure unadulterated fear, with his life hanging in the balance of someone who had expressed distaste for him a healthy amount of times and whose certainly not favorable towards him in any way at the moment. Even if he saved your life, were you so willing to give up this once-in-a-lifetime chance?

You have the high ground now.

You determine his fate.

You could end it all right now by just yanking your hand away and taking back everything you had done to improve your relationship with him. 

Your heart thuds marathons in your ears as all your muscles twitch and have a war in your mind. The thoughts curl and shriek around each other, fighting for what they believed the right thing to do was and it felt like the whole world was watching you for some sort of revolutionary choice.

You wince, knowing what your decision is.

Hauling Leon up, your legs burn as you lift his weight from the ledge and onto safe ground, rolling away when he finally lands on the stable ground that the catwalk had been attached to. Your lungs beg for air and you pant, faintly registering what just happened as you ride out that high of adrenaline. Leon must be out of it if he hasn't made a sarcastic quip about almost dying.

"We need to get to safety," you say, shakily getting to your feet and almost stumbling back down from the shock factor.

He only nods and you reach out to help him up. Even though you didn’t drop him to his untimely death, he looks at you warily before accepting the offer, almost falling to his knees again before you shoot forward and catch him. His body heat radiates through your skin and your cheeks set ablaze at the proximity even as you sling one of his arms around your shoulders and support some of his weight as you begin walking.

“There’s a safe room I saw on the way while we were running,” you mumble, avoiding making any sort of eye contact. “We can go over there and make sure you’re not hurt.”

“What about you?” He rasps and it leaves you wondering why he’s so adamant about the state of your health when he’s just looked death between the eyes.

You laugh breathlessly, almost sarcastically if you weren’t still riding the high of that fading adrenaline. “Don’t worry about me.”

You and Leon make your way to one of the cubicles, and you set him down carefully on the office chair that he manages to unceremoniously slump into. It’s clear that his almost-death is impacting him, though you now well that this isn’t the first time he’s had a touch of the afterlife. It really did make you wonder what about this time made it any different. 

While he squeezes his eyes shut and massages the shoulder he’d landed on, you reach into your bag and pull out a first aid spray for him to use when he’s ready before standing and taking in your environment. The computer is innocently waiting on the stand with the J.I.E. logo set as the wallpaper, and there’s a filing cabinet that you try to open. It doesn’t give way and you mumble out a curse under your breath as you start poking around the desk drawers for a possible key.

Leo pops the top off the spray bottle and starts healing his wounds while you flip through various pages inside. Most of them are unhelpful and just detailing things you already knew until you tumble on a report for the spider you had just killed.

You put it into a manila folder that you put in your bag, rummaging around more until you find a hidden compartment that holds the key to the file cabinet. Upon opening the locked drawer, you find reports on agents–including your own–and details on the imports and exports the company had been engaging in. 

Then, you hit the jackpot.

First and foremost was a folder of maps that laid out every level and room there was in the entirety of the lab. Then, there was a large binder that recorded every experiment the J.I.E. had engaged with the creation of their bioweapons, even detailing a new virus that they were meddling with. You flip through, finding monster after monster that has failed and succeeded. For now, this would be enough until you could figure out a plan using the map and going over the particulars of the experiments.

“We should go now,” you decide. “This is more than enough to figure out where we’re going and what we’re up against.”

Silence.

The lack of response causes you to turn around and peer questioningly at Leon who just nods mindlessly and gets up. He doesn’t meet your eyes and this attitude only makes you all the more confused. What had gotten into him?

Nonetheless, he follows as you make your way to an elevator that you go up in to return to the main hub that you had entered through. You suppose that nobody had watched you through the cameras and just automatically assumed you were being taken care of by the spider bioweapon since it's still suspiciously dead silent. 

You still stay alert, and if you hadn't been so on edge, Leon would've walked right into the wire trap that had been meticulously strung across the tunnel. You pull him back sharply without thinking, fingers lacing with his as you yank.

He grunts as you pull away, going to carefully disarm it, figuring this was their way of alarming anybody you made it out alive. The explosion surely would have let someone know that there were two unauthorized people still running around, so it was good you had seen the thin wire and the two dark devices flashing red lights. Then again, you'd expected Leon to be just as attentive as you were to your surroundings. 

Something was bothering him. Seeing him like this wasn't helping you much either, dying to know just what had him so distracted. 

The two of you finally make it to the exit carefully pushing outward into the dressing room whose door had been locked when the two of you entered to prevent anybody seeing things they shouldn't be. A quick pack of wet wipes is enough to make yourselves look decent enough to not look like you’d been playing around in dirt and gunpowder, and you make plans to shower once you got back to the hotel.

All throughout your way back, Leon still stays infuriatingly silent from the lab to the suite, and the question as to why teases the tip of your tongue. 

You get inside, let him know you're going to run yourself a bath, and retreat to the restroom as you sigh out with a whimper almost escaping in the process. In the solitude of your own thoughts, you finally let yourself feel that pain and anguish and confusion that you always hold back in the presence of Leon.

Fighting didn’t help at all. If anything, it only made it all the worse feeling guilt or something akin to it.

Would he ever tell you about Ada or was that just something you would have to figure out for yourself? Could you ever be closer to him knowing that he had said you meant nothing to him? It must be true if he had said it without expecting you to hear, and somehow, that sentiment causes a stabbing pang in your chest. It’s a wonderful and horrible thing–wanting someone so badly but knowing they would never want you back.

It’s a bittersweet taste on your tongue with a pungent aftertaste stinging your tastebuds, dooming yourself in the process.

Emotions were always so easy to stomp down and kill before. What about this whole ordeal could possibly make this any different?

Some dark part of your mind whispers that you know. You know what this provocative emotion is that makes your head spin and act irrationally, but you’d die before ever admitting it out loud. This may as well be worse than a death penalty–or rather, it is your death penalty. 

The sound of rushing water acts as a soothing white noise until the tub is full and submerging yourself in the warm water causes a sigh of relief to fly past your lips in a gentle exhale. You take your time, washing your hair and massaging fingers into your scalp to help focus on releasing all of that tension that has built up over the past few days. The water turns gray from all that built up grime and dust and the soapy suds merely adds to the discoloration once you actually start scrubbing.

Once you’re done, you feel more human, more in control. The thoughts have quieted, and you finally start to feel like you can get a grasp on yourself again. You think you’re ready to see Leon and just simply resign to the watching the city on the balcony or going to sleep early like the past few days have allowed you. You can live with this. You can do it.

Once this is all said and done, you can part ways. You can forget him.

You could…

You have to. Right?

You step out, steam chasing after you as if beckoning you back into its warm embrace and you find Leon staring out the window mindlessly. You get hit with deja vu as it reminds you of the first morning you’d gotten here and watched the sunrise together. That was when you were nothing more than unlikely but eager allies. Now? You don’t know what you are. 

You don’t want to be the one that wants him while he just wants the entertainment. You’re smarter than that.

“Hey,” you call out and he turns slightly, acknowledging you. The atmosphere turns slightly awkward when he provides no verbal answer. “I’m just going to go sit outside for a bit since I guess you want to be alone right now. If you need me, I’ll be-”

"Stop."

His command makes the words fade from your tongue and you swallow harshly. The first words he’s spoken to you since asking how you were at the lab are spoken roughly, making your heart drop into your stomach. When had you started listening to him when he ordered you around? You weren't one of his rookies or agents on his team, but right now, you were completely and totally at the mercy of whatever he might do.

"Why did you save me?" He asks tightly, turning around and finally getting a good look at you in an oversized t-shirt with pajama shorts barely peeking out from underneath the hem. His eyes wander and he swallows harshly. "You could have killed me–ended this feud and finally been the hero of this whole story. Why did you do it?"

You don't have to think about the answer, but it's shameful. After giving him the cold shoulder upon hearing him with Ada and sealing your emotions in a tight little glass bottle, they come spilling out now for Leon to pick through and judge. 

"I don't want you to die," you whisper, taking a step back, afraid of whatever he might say. 

He moves toward you at an excruciatingly slow pace, expression unreadable and more intimidating than the literal bioweapon you had survived just hours ago. You match his footfalls backward and you think this fear must be what prey feels like when death has locked eyes on it.

"I can't–We can talk about this, yeah?” You try explaining, wondering if there was any possibility you could talk your way out of this. “It doesn't matter–not really. We just…"

You're rambling now, trying to find an excuse to stop those blue eyes from piercing your soul and peeling away every layer of defense you've built up. He keeps getting closer and you're running out of room to escape to. You've never been more scared of him than in this moment–even when he almost killed you the day you met, you've never felt like this. A deer in the headlights, electricity coursing through your nerves as your brain struggles to choose between fight or flight. 

Did he know? Did he know about all those lingering gazes and words that held guilt behind them and all those emotions that you weren't supposed to be having clogging up your chest?

Your back hits a wall and you're fucked.

Leon's hand finds your waist when he's close enough, your skin rushing hot as his breath fans your face and you smell spearmint. It's addicting. He's addicting. Your heartbeat rushes in your ears, pounding anxiously as the nerves in your body light up like a Christmas tree.

When he speaks, it’s all low tones and so fucking attractive.

"Sweet girl," he murmurs, affectionately raw in a way you never would've imagined him to be. His other hand comes up, cupping your jaw delicately and all the blood rushes to your face.

He's called you many things before, and has used more than enough adjectives to convey this disdain for you. Annoying, disgusting, naive, revolting, repulsive…but never in a million years would he have called you sweet. You must be dreaming, and if you are, you never want to wake up.

"I'm actually a very indulgent creep," you wheeze out and barely conceal a whimper. "Leon, you-"

He cuts you off as his lips press onto yours and all rational thought leaves your brain in an instant. His mouth molds to yours, fingers on your waist mindlessly beginning to run circles as he presses heavily onto you as if this is what’s been wanting just as much as you. All you can feel is him, his hands on your body, his mouth working your own in such a sinful way that makes your head spin and your stomach do cartwheels.

You close your eyes, let yourself fall from grace, and plummet.

His tongue licks into your mouth and you moan as he presses you further into the wall as if it were possible. His grip turns almost bruising on your skin as he guides the hand that had been caressing your waist down to your thigh, prompting your leg to wrap around him. When you get the hint, he uses the momentum to haul you up and you squeak as he gets his arm underneath you with ease and stabilizes you. 

Leon laughs breathlessly, and he kisses on your neck. Your fingers thread through his brunette locks while you work on refilling your lungs with air. This small hint of joy–this humorous moment in something so tense–is what really matters. You can’t believe this is happening, but the way his touch burns is more than enough of an indicator that this is real.

He moves with you in his arms like you weigh nothing. Leon lets you down onto the hotel suite's bed gentle enough to not hurt you but still rough enough that you bounce from the buoyancy of the memory foam. Your back hits the mattress and everything seems to fall into place the way it should be.

Leon's hands are all over you, trailing from your hips to your stomach and up to your chest. The touch of his palms burns your skin like trails of heated lava pleasantly oozing along your veins. He burns so brightly but yet so so good. Leon hikes up your shirt, exposing your stomach to the cool air that blows across your burning body as his tongue pries your mouth open again. You hum in satisfaction as his wet muscle curls around yours hotly and arousal sparks in your gut as you feel slick just starting to begin pooling uncomfortably in your panties.

He pulls away, kissing the corner of your mouth as he pants, your legs still straddling around him even while you lie down. He looks so fucking pretty. 

"Cat got your tongue?" He teases and you kick him lightly in the back with your heel. 

"You wish," you retort mockingly. "You're all bark and no bite."

Leon raises an eyebrow. "Is that a challenge?"

You smile, something genuine and soft and so beautifully crafted just for him. "It's whatever you want it to be."

"Then let me tell you how I want it to be." His hot breaths fan across your skin and you really do feel like you're already burning as his fingers pull your shirt further and further up your torso. 

"Go ahead," you pull him closer, noses bumping together as you press a feather-light kiss to the stubble on his cheek. "I'm listening."

"I want you underneath me," he admits it like he's in a confessional, but whatever this is is far from holy. "I want to hear how you sound when I make you feel good, sweetheart." He nips at your neck, soothing the tiny burn with the flat of his tongue. "Can I do that for you? Will you let me?"

You wouldn’t just hand everything over to him on a silver platter. A little teasing never hurts, right?

"I don't know," you hum, though every instinct in you screams to submit just so he can do whatever he wants with you. "All this just for a little entertainment? You sure do go all out, Kennedy."

"Is that what you think this is?" He pulls away and you almost protest at the lack of contact until you get a good look at his expression. Something like sadness and doubt lining those electric blue eyes that you've come to stare at for hours. 

You don’t like the sudden shift in atmosphere so you shake your head in hopes of clearing those shadows away from his head. “Of course not–I’m sorry. That was a bad choice of wording on my part.”

He laughs, nervous and still lingering with some semblance of unease. “You sure know how to keep me on my toes.”

“I haven’t been this close with someone in a while,” you admit and shift your eyes to a random spot on the ceiling, trying to ignore the giddy feeling that came from him still hovering above you from between your legs. “You should know I’m not very…experienced or anything. I’m sorry.”

“Quit apologizing,” he chastises, fingers tilting up your chin so he can lean upward to press a warm kiss to your forehead. “I won’t do anything you don’t want to do.”

You take the time to consider this, knowing that whatever was about to unfold would be something big in your relationship. It feels like there hasn’t been enough time to process your undying devotion for him or the questions that still linger behind Ada’s appearance, but you do know that this is something you can work out. This is something you want.

Still, there’s just some things you can’t let go of.

“Before I answer that,” you sigh, hating that you’re bringing down the mood with your fears. “Can I ask what Ada was doing here–what she wanted?”

Leon’s eyes take on a new emotion and his whole body tenses. You’re afraid that you’ve struck a chord he wouldn’t want to discuss and you fearfully wonder if this would sever any chance you have with him.

“You know Ada?” he asks and it’s painful when he says so. Whatever she means to him, it must not herald any good will.

“No,” you frown. “I heard you talking a few nights ago on the balcony. You…” The words don’t come off your tongue stubbornly, trying to stuff themselves back into your throat. “You said I was nobody–that I meant nothing to you. I mean, if that’s true, then what could you possibly want me for?”

The sting of it all comes rushing back in this incredibly vulnerable moment. You were never good with intense emotions nor did you have a good handle on them when they exploded outward like a volcanic eruption. It’s no surprise when the tears start threatening to fall, though you curse them and hold them back in an attempt to keep your dignity.

Leon makes a wounded noise deep from the back of his throat. 

“I was trying to protect you.”

It doesn’t make sense. “What?”

He ducks his head, and you desperately try to understand. “She’s backstabbed me more than once. I can’t count how many times Ada’s used me for her own gain, and I just–I couldn’t just let her get her hands on you that easily.”

“So…?”

“I lied,” Leon pleads, and the ice melts away from your burning heart. “You mean everything to me, (Y/n). I can’t lose you like I’ve lost everyone else.”

“Leon,” you whisper, all too vulnerable and drowning in that unnamed emotion. The answer to his questions and advances pours from your lips like a sacred waterfall, ready and yearning. “I want you. Make me feel good–I’ll let you.”

His pupils dilate and he dives back down, claiming your lips with his in a rougher kiss than the ones previously before. 

Your fingers tangle in his hair when he moves down, tugging on your shirt so that it could finally come off over your torso. The cool air blows across your hot skin, moaning when he massages the pad of his thumb around one of your nipples, and the pleasure sends your thoughts into a whirlwind. 

“You have no idea how much I’ve thought of this,” Leon murmurs, eyes slipping shut as if he was trying to map out and memorize your whole body.

You don’t get to ask what he means by that when he opens his mouth and licks the flat of his tongue wetly across your tit. Your head tilts back of its own accord, a strangled moan escaping in the process before you slap a hand over your mouth to muffle the noise. Heated shame rushes to your cheeks as you look down, already finding Leon gazing up at you, mesmerized.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” he prompts, pulling your arm away. “Let me hear you, sweetheart.”

Why was he so persistent with the pet names? If he keeps this up, you’ll be nothing more than just putty in his hands. 

“Stop,” you whine, covering your eyes like that would change anything. “You’re gonna drive me insane if you keep saying things like that.”

“Do you not like me calling you names?”

You peek through your fingers to find him all the more attentive, trying to find what you don’t like and what you want. That love, care, and attention was something you never had–never deserved. How could you tell him that he’s giving you everything you want while not discouraging him from doing so?

“It’s not that,” you swallow shamefully. “Nobody’s ever told me that. Or called me anything, for that matter. It’s just new–I think I’m trying to figure out how to handle it all.”

His expression darkens and you think he might tease you or tell you to suck it up. Instead, Leon almost growls out, “Nobody?”

You make a noise of confirmation.

“Oh, baby.” He rests his cheek on your stomach and traces patterns on your skin. “Your last partner didn’t?”

You scoff, deciding to be vulnerable just this once. “My last partner was in highschool, honey.” The pet name feels foreign, but good nonetheless. You can understand why he seems so insistent on using them with you. “Like I said–it’s been a while.”

“Even so.” He picks up his head and shakes it, moving even further down and hooking fingers into the waistband of your shorts. “They didn’t appreciate you like you deserved then.”

Your voice cracks as you rest your head back onto the pillow and whisper, “I don’t think I did.”

Down, down, down your shorts trail along your legs, leaving you in nothing but a lacy pair of underwear and all too vulnerable emotionally and physically. You make a noise of dissatisfaction, tugging on Leon’s shirt as he was still unfairly dressed. 

He chuckles and gets the hint, leaning up to throw it off as you get to admire his body. There’s multiple scars from the tussles he’s engaged in with fighting bioweapons for a living, but one in particular catches your eye. Set proudly on his shoulder is a bullet bound that looks to be years old, all knotted and improperly healed. He must’ve not had the right care available to him when he got it. Leon sees you eyeing it, and smiles, albeit a bit sadly.

“Don’t worry about it,” he urges, falling back over you and kissing you softly, leaving a peck on your chin as he keeps going down. 

“I’ll worry about it later,” you compromise.

Leon lifts one of your legs, trailing featherlight kisses down your calves and into the inside of your thighs before swapping to the other and repeating the action. You sigh blissfully, letting that arousal build like a growing fire in your belly until you absolutely need something to quell it. You need him to do it–nobody else. 

There’s nobody else in the world you would be this exposed to. There’s nobody else you need.

“Leon,” you whine, hips gyrating as the accumulated wetness has become noticeably uncomfortable. “C’mon. I’m dying here.”

He actually laughs at that–not a chuckle or a huff of a breath that you’re so used to. A laugh, warm and genuine and painting lines across his features that you commit to memory in case you can never have this moment with him again. The possibility that this is a one-time thing is terrifying, but it gives you all the more reason to savor it.

Granting you some reprieve, he finally, finally, presses a heated kiss to your clothed clit and you cry out, hips bucking up of their own accord because you needed more than just the slight touches he was teasing you with. Leon gets his hands on you, driving your pelvis down and holding it in place as he licks a heated stripe up the outside of your panties. It's a warm, wet, and wild sensation–one that gives you a taste of Heaven without actually being there.

The feel of it is enough to drown you as you struggle to writhe beneath his restraint, head tossing back and heart fluttering to the beat of hummingbird wings. Your fingers tangle in his hair instinctively and pull, earning a delicious groan from him that reverberates through the room. You’re obsessed, or something along the lines of it, and you hope this never ends.

"You're so beautiful," Leon murmurs, eyes fluttering shut before he begins yanking off your panties like they offended him personally. Your glistening core is exposed to him, positively dripping from just the small things he's given you so far. "Jesus Christ, sweet girl. Is this all from the little I've done?" 

You squeak as he positions your legs over his shoulders, breaths puffing right over your waiting cunt that impatiently pulses with the need to be filled. He still doesn't allow you much room to move and a desperate little noise makes its way from your throat as he teases you with everything you want so close yet so far. 

"Use your big girl words," he prompts gently, tilting his head so that it rests on your inner thigh. "I need to know that you want this."

"I do," you whimper immediately, trying to find solace in tweaking one of your nipples for some sort of pleasurable reprieve. All that dignity you'd been trying to preserve goes out the window. "I want you so bad, Leon. I can't take it anymore–please, please."

"Good girl," he purrs, all sultry and seductive. 

You choke on a gasp when his lips close around your folds, sucking sharply and swirling his tongue in your clit roughly. Instinctively, your hips break free and shy away from his touch, but Leon has none of it and merely pulls you back down to keep attacking your poor cunt. You moan freely, hand tugging on his hair as he laps up your arousal like a dying man and when his eyes flick up to meet yours, the fire in your belly flares.

You cry out his name, unable to vocalize or convey just how good he was making you feel. You've never had this before–this attention and euphoria.

Leon's head nods into you as his tongue fucks you deeper and you squirm under his ministrations, pushing against his face in vain as if he could grant you more than he could. He sinks his middle finger into your wet heat, tongue circling on your clit as he pumps in and out of you. The noises your pussy makes when he adds his ring finger and starts rocking them in and out of you would almost be embarrassing if you weren't so focused solely on how he was making you feel.

He eats you out like this would be his last meal, savoring the taste of you on his tongue as he fingerfucks you brutally. Experimentally, he curls his fingers up and you squeal, babbling incoherently and just settling on begging him to let you go. You can feel it building up just as he brushes against a spot deep inside you that makes you ascend, and you squeeze your eyes shut as the pleasure pricks tears in your eyes. 

He moans appreciatively, sending vibrations throughout your whole body and as you grind desperately against him. He keeps you as still as he can manage, but you're not a world-class agent for nothing. Even as Leon tries to control the thrusting of your hips upward, he also has to work on keeping your legs spread open in case you crush his head in between your thighs. 

Maybe he wouldn't object to it.

Leon pulls away, watching his fingers disappearing into you with a nonexistent resistance, cooing over your whimpers. "Does that feel good, sweet thing? Fuck, you taste amazing."

You keen at his words, face blazing hot as he momentarily takes the time to rub his wet fingers all across your folds so that cool air kisses between your thighs. "Leon!"

"You say my name so prettily," he sighs erotically, pushing his fingers back into you and scissoring harshly as he's knuckle-deep. "You gonna let me stretch you out? Gonna let me fuck you so good, all you can think about is my name?"

"Please," you whine again, and you have a feeling you'd be asking him for a lot tonight. Trying to think of any way to speed up the process so you can get what you really wanted, you whisper desperately, "Baby, I need you inside of me."

"Fuck," he hisses, voice gravelly as he begs. "Let me fuck you, angel. Let me fuck that pretty pussy of yours."

Your legs spread even wider as he works on getting his jeans off, and you eye the happy trail that takes route from his belly button and disappears into the waistband of his boxers. He's leanly muscular, though he's nothing short of attractive to you. 

To think that only a couple weeks ago, you would've killed yourself before even thinking about having sex with Leon Kennedy. Now, you think you would offer up yourself to whatever god existed just to be able to have this again–to be able to have him again. This vulnerable moment where all he wanted was to make you feel good and to hear you scream his name is something that has come straight out of your fantasies.

Fantasies during nights where you thought about touching yourself because of him but holding back because trying to hold back your noises while the man was literally sleeping in the same room was a horrendous idea. All that time you thought about what he would do to you and craving a touch you never thought you would get is paying off as he eyes you hungrily from above, licking the slick you'd left off of his fingers and palming the obvious tent in his boxers.

"You're staring," he comments slyly and you roll your eyes.

"And you're thinking about me," you accuse.

A smirk grows on his face, a mischievous glint in his blue eyes as he shuffles down the waistband of his underwear only slightly but just enough so you can see the implications of his sculpted v-line. 

"How did you know?" Leon hums and you blush furiously as if that persistent heat could burn any hotter. 

You turn your face away, unable to hold eye contact without getting flustered all over again. "Take it off before I do it for you, asshole."

"Would you?" He croons and you hide your face in your hands from the embarrassment of his unspoken words. "You're so cute when you're embarrassed, sweetheart."

It doesn't feel like you're adults right now, but rather two stupid teens getting up to something they shouldn't and acting like they were grown ups. It doesn't help the fact that you've had a playground rivalry for who knows how long, something so childish that you can't believe you'd let your icy emotions get the better of you for all those years. You can't help but wonder if this is something you could have had if you hadn't been so blind-eyed by the J.I.E. 

You feel the mattress shift beneath you and you pull your hands away from your eyes just in time to see Leon throw his discarded boxers somewhere else in the room, but it doesn't take long for your eyes to trail down. Leon's cock stands stiffly at attention, already leaking precum from the angry red tip that he hadn't even touched yet. Your mouth waters, and your hand twitches to wrap around it though you haven't had this experience for maybe over a decade. 

"See something you want?" He teases, though the words barely reach your ears as he climbs back to hover over you. 

You're crazy, and you know it by the way the words fall from your lips without a second thought. "Yeah. Was it from just…?"

His cockiness fades for a moment and his eyes soften, a genuine smile spreading across his features and lighting up his already-flushed face. "You're incredibly sexy when you're enjoying yourself, princess." You startle, and he laughs lowly, pecking your cheek. "Liked that one, huh?"

Leon kisses you deeply and you moan upon tasting yourself on his tongue as he feels up your torso and wipes a thumb over your breast. Blindly, you feel down his stomach, appreciating the definition of his well-deserved abs, and finally get a shaking hand around his dick. The action elicits a rich groan from him, even though you've barely even touched him. 

You slide your thumb across his slit, beading wetness sliding down your palm and providing the moisture you needed to stimulate him just right. Your motions aren't smooth by any means, and Leon can probably tell that you're not used to this, but he must be getting something out of it by the way his mouth drops open and his eyes screw shut with that beautiful blush spreading across his skin like wildfire. 

"Careful," he warns, but it ends with a guttural moan when your fingers brush delicately across his balls. "Shit, you're gonna make me go insane."

"It's payback, baby," you simper, groaning when he runs a finger up your folds in punishment. In revenge, you pump your hand a little faster around his length and you can feel the throbbing veins pushing into your palm. 

Leon pulls your wrist away, and you go to protest, wanting to give him more like he'd given you, but he shakes his head and cuts you off with a well-meaning kiss. "We'll do that another time, doll. Right now, it's about you."

"But-"

"C'mon," he cradles your face so gently that the words die on your tongue. "Trust me, sweetheart. I'm right here–I'm not going anywhere. Not not, not ever."

His words cause your emotions to soar, tears leaking vulnerably from your lashes and he wipes them away gently with the pads of his thumbs. Nobody ever stays like he promises and the threat of him breaking that vow hangs precariously in your mind on whether you'll truly take it to heart or not. All around you is him, hands on your body and voice floating richly in your ears. Could you have this again and again? Would he stay long enough to let you?

"Don't leave," you beg pathetically, looking up at him through shamefully teary eyes. "Just don't go."

"I promise," his forehead presses against yours as he whispers vows under the cover of this private moment with just the two of you. "I promise."

You lock your legs around his waist and pull him downward so that his cock taps impatiently against your stomach and Leon quickly gets the hint as he reaches down to pump himself a couple times in preparation. He kisses you deeply, passionately, as he lines up with your entrance and the weight of anticipation causes all the blood to rush to your head. He grinds for an agonizing moment, dick sliding between your folds tantalizingly slow before he finally gives in.

The head of his cock presses into your cunt and your mouth drops open, skin flushing as you pull him closer to get your lips on his to muffle the desperate sounds you make as he sinks inch by agonizing inch into you. Your thoughts scatter until nothing but Leon fills them and your heart beats marathons in your chest.

Your hands find his broad shoulders, hanging on for dear life as he pushes further into you as you adjust to feeling him inside of you. It's been literal years since you've last had sex and though you'd never expected it to be with Leon, it feels a lot more sentimental and pleasurable than the affairs you'd had with past partners.

"Fuck, baby, you feel so good," Leon groans out, rolling his hips so that he bottoms out and the euphoria washes over you so deliciously that your eyes roll into the back of your head. 

"Le–on," his name falls brokenly from your lips, head spinning as you glance down and spot the outline of him bulging from your skin. 

Leon's forearms land on either side of your head, his nose bumping yours as his lidded eyes search yours. "Say it again. Say my name again, sweet thing." 

Fucking hell, his nicknames were going to be the death of you. 

"Leon–" you cry out when he sharply thrusts once, twice, then slowly begins setting a pace that has you seeing stars. As he adjusts to being inside of you, his speed increases in increments. You allow yourself to be loud, because right now, you could care less about dignity when Leon was just getting started.

His hips slam against you harshly, and he has you almost screaming when you can feel your plush walls hugging every vein and definition of his cock that he drags through you sweetly. His balls clap noisily against your skin and just the sound of it alone was enough to get you high and ever so closer to that sweet release. Leon's lips land on yours, kissing you roughly and the euphoria you were gifted from him abusing your hole was enough to keep you on cloud nine for at least a week. 

"Do you know how much I thought of this?" Leon grunts out, moving down so he can kiss the skin behind your ear affectionately. "Getting to fuck you so good that you don't remember anything but my name?"

His words make you whine and writhe beneath him until his hands hold your hips down so he can continue jackhammering into you at that relentless pace. You can feel the tip of his cock kissing your cervix bruisingly and the fact that he's so deep inside of you is enough to leave you absolutely dripping. 

"Leon–fuck, fuck!" You cry out as he folds one of your legs up and settles your knee into the crook of his elbow, using that leverage to fuck your sweet cunt even harder. 

"All mine," he mumbles, pussy drunk and caught in a brain fog. "So fucking beautiful and all for me, yeah?"

You barely manage to hum out an affirmation but the torturous pleasure he subjects you to makes it sound borderline pornographic. Your thoughts scatter in the wind and only leave you enough sense to rack your fingers through his hair as he rocks his cock in and out of your hole, addicted to the feeling as you lose yourselves within each other. 

Higher and higher Leon takes you, licking up the column of your throat and biting hickeys into the skin of your neck as if to mark you as his. The pleasure burns brightly, a traveling firework climbing up to the sky in hope of exploding outward. This sensation–something you've never had before–is what makes you obsessed and afraid to ever let go. All those years that people came into your life and left without prompting is negated by the fact that he's stayed.

Leon stretches you into a full-on mating press, your knees kissing your chest as he fucks you deeper than before. You sob brokenly, clasping your arms around his neck and holding on for dear life as he pistons his hips harder into your dripping heat. The weight of him on your body as he works you both up to your heights drives you crazy and you can feel all that tension building up–that firework ready to burst.

"You know how pretty you looked?" He grunts out, working his thrusts as if he could go any deeper than he already was and you squeak as he gives your tit a slap. "All dolled up and wearing that pretty little dress I picked out for you? Fuck, I was so close to taking you that night."

"Leon," you whimper as those clear blue eyes bore into yours, hooded with lust and swirling with more emotion and passion than you've ever seen before. "Shit, if that's what you really think, why didn't you do this sooner?"

"Do what, sweet thing? Fuck this pretty pussy 'til I was rearranging your guts?" 

You whine submissively at his words, tugging him closer, and hiding your face in his neck. His cock ploughs into your shopping heat, fucking you like the two of you are animals. Leon swallows your gasp, tongue lolling out to beg for air until he captures your mouth and steals all the breath from your lungs. His tongue wrestles your one into submission before pulling back, a trail of saliva connecting your moist lips. 

"I wanted to," he admits vulnerably, "so many times we were alone–wanted to bring you to a quiet little place where we could forget about the missions and rivalries and show you what you were missing.."

You weren't going to last long if he kept revealing secrets like this was some sort of steamy confessional.

"I thought you hated me," you gasp, keening when his pace slows and begins favoring hitting you deep and hard over speed. Your eyes roll upward before squeezing shut and just revealing the feeling of him all around you in the best case of sensory overload. "I thought you wanted me dead where I stood."

He tilts your chin up, rutting deep into you that makes you see stars. "That cocky little girl who was unkillable, maybe. But, you showed yourself to me and there you were."

"But, you-"

"I didn't want to scare you off," he sighs, something soft that contradicts the way he's still balls deep inside you. "I was ready to kill you when you landed on my doorstep at that shitty motel, but…I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t lose you."

There's a gap where he trails off, looking into your eyes as you realize that all while you scorned him and loved him, he was going through the same tortuous emotions as you. Those encounters, shooting bullets in each other's directions and painting scars through wounds was all one-sided. Leon knows you genuinely hated him in a past life as he hated you too, wished he was dead in the same way he was so close to putting a bullet through your skull, and yet he's still here.

"I did hate you." You bury your nose into his neck. "I preyed on your downfall for so many nights and loathed that you kept me alive just to prove a point."

"And now?"

You open your eyes, looking past through tears that have started to prick your lash line. Your chest swells with an emotion you haven't felt in a long while, reigniting flames on a piece of cold coal that hasn't felt the kiss of fire for so long. This feeling that has caused you so much conflict before has a name on your heart, your mind, then your tongue. 

"Now?" You reach up, brushing bangs away from his moist forehead, and bring him closer like you were telling him a secret. Your lips ghost over his as you answer. "Fuck, I love you, Leon."

That declaration seems to be the breaking point as he squishes you between his body and mattress, sinking his weight onto you as he desperately begins pounding you into the bedsheets. You moan loudly, unbidden as you relish in the feeling of Leon and trailing your fingernails down his back in angry red lines. The pleasure tips you into overdrive, and you almost scream as you feel yourself just beginning to tip over the edge.

“Leon, I,” you stutter and his hips never break stride, seemingly spurred on by the implication of your words hot and heavy in your ear, “I’m close, baby. Fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

You choke on your breath as he wedges a hand between your bodies, rubbing furiously at your clit while muffling your sobs with an open-mouthed kiss. 

“Cum for me,” he pleads, eyes squeezing shut like you were tormenting him. “Cum on my cock baby, and I’ll cum for you too.”

Your head slams back onto the pillow, gasping and choking for air as you finally crash and that firework explodes outward. Your mind reels as you see white, gushing hotly around Leon who’s still chasing after his own high. You take the overstimulation, tears running freely now as you hold on for dear life he uses you to achieve his own orgasm, his grunts and breathy moans making home inside your memory as the sweetest sounds you’ve ever heard. You call out his name like a chant–a mantra, sweeter than any prayer you’ve ever had to utter.

When he pulls you in his arms, settles his full weight onto you, and kisses you so desperately like you’d disappear the moment he opened his eyes, you know he’s reached it.

Leon rams his hips so that he drives as far as he could into you, cum shooting white hot ropes and painting your walls white. You choke on your own breath as warmth spreads through your body, addicted already to the feeling of his cum spurting inside. You're mesmerized as you watch as his face pinches into something so beautiful and pretty to watch, and you wish you could ingrain the look of him coming undone into your head permanently. 

Nothing but hot pants fill the air as he lifts himself from your frame, hands bracketing either side of your head as he pushes himself up to get a good look at you, blissed out on his cock and almost fucked stupid. He brushes fair from your forehead and kisses you lightly in a deep contrast to the way he had nearly bruised your lips as he came.

You shift and he winces, slamming his hands on your hips to hold you still as he stays inside of you. 

"Stop," he breathes out as if it pained him.

"Leon? What are you-"

"Fuck–just please, I need–" he gasps, slightly moist forehead coming to rest on yours, "You're so good, baby. Just let me stay like this for a bit–just a second."

Your emotions take a hit as he begs you to stay despite the oversensitivity combating the need to be as close as possible to you. "Alright," you whisper, though a pressing question comes to the forefront of your mind. "Can I ask you something?"

"Hm?"

"Why did…Why’d you kiss me?"

He laughs, all gentle and real right from his stomach and it sends shivers down your spine. You want to draw the sight of his laugh lines into your permanent memory. "Of all the things that just happened, that's what you want to know?"

"Mhm," you affirm, having no strength to try and fight him on the matter. He's left you breathless and tired, and frankly, you just want to know what’s on his mind.

"Well, that's a bit of a stupid question." He nudges your chin up with the crook of his index finger and those blue crystalline eyes catch yours to sweep you off your feet again. "I kissed you because I wanted to, sweetheart.”

You breathe, working on keeping it level as he finally slips out of you, mixed fluids leaking out of your spent cunt upon not being plugged anymore. Leon leans back, admiring his work and laughs to himself. His eyes trail up your body and your gazes connect. You find him looking at you, searching for something like he usually does, but this time, he finally seems he found what he’s looking for.

“Did I let you find it?” you ask tiredly.

“Hm?”

“Back at the cafe,” you explain with exhaustion lacing your voice. Leon gets up, disappearing into the bathroom for a moment, and you hear the sound of running water. When he comes back out, he grabs a water bottle from the fridge that was provided from the hotel and returns to the bedside, running the warm cloth against your oversensitive skin. 

“Yeah?” He murmurs to show he’s still listening even as he carefully wipes down the inside of your thighs. “What about it?”

“You said you were looking for something, but I wasn’t letting you find it. Did I do it?”

Leon pauses in his actions, takes a good look at you though you don’t know what’s happening in that complicated head of his. Nonetheless, he smiles and crows feet crinkle his eyes as he leans over to press a chaste kiss to your lips. “You did,” he affirms sweetly, then once he deems you clean enough, he says, “You did good, baby.”

The praise goes straight to your head as you try uprighting yourself, but almost miserably failing before Leon catches you. One of his arms curls around your rigid upper back and the other tucks beneath your knees as he easily lifts you and carries you to the pull-out bed that he’s been sleeping on since you got here. Gently, he deposits you on the mattress with the water bottle before beginning to wipe himself down. 

You take gentle sips, watching him as he finishes up and joins you at your side on the bed, sinking down in the much cleaner sheets and tossing the fabric over you. Quickly, you fall into place with your head on his chest listening to his heartbeat and legs intertwined. One of his arms lazily tosses over your waist as he buries his nose into your hair.

Never before has your heart felt so full and alive before, pumping strongly and emotionally just for the man in front of you.

“Thank you,” you whisper, feeling sleep weigh heavily on your mind. “For everything.”

“You make it sound like you’re dying,” he jokes, hand running cautiously up and down your back. You shudder as he feels along every scar with expert care, but you find it's not as bad as you thought it would be. “We still have a long way ahead of us.”

“We do,” you agree thoughtfully before hesitating. “Do…you feel the same way I do?”

Leon kisses the crown of your head affectionately, polling you tighter and more securely against him. “Oh, I adore you, sweet girl. You’ve got me at your beck and call, I can promise you that.”

“Okay,” you settle down, finally at peace. “You’ll stay?”

He tilts your head up, making you stare into those blue eyes that have carried you through so many years of torture and conflicted love. Leon Kennedy, this masterpiece of a man weighed down by years of his job who has tried to kill you and in turn survived your attempts to slit his throat wide open loves you. Even when you hated him, you couldn’t stay away as if the stars and the universe had destined for you to always be connected.

Maybe this is what it means to be in love–to be devoted to someone that you need then like you need the air to breathe.

“I promise,” Leon says, sleep edging on his voice warmly but still persisting to lay your fears to rest. “You’ll have to kill me to stay away from you, (Y/n). I’m yours, whenever and wherever you need, no matter the time of day. I’m staying for you because I love you.”

What a strange thing it is to be in love. But, perhaps in this moment, where you feel so incredibly warm and rich like a healthy fire with plenty of fuel to go on forever, you decide it’s not so bad. 

No longer does your heart stay frozen and bitter from years of misuse, but who would’ve guessed that the man who you swore to hate for the rest of your days would be the one to finally melt it down into a blazing fire of emotion?

Far away, miles away from you and Leon, the blizzard that had forced you under the same roof all those weeks ago dissipates, finally satisfied.

[slyvieselkie]

Since the Beginning - Midoriya Izuku

Warning: body shaming, insecurity about looks, family issues, suggestive

Check out my masterlist for more!

Having a prohero boyfriend is really a double edged sword, especially when he's the successor of the Symbol of Peace. Deku, the greatest hero, Midoriya Izuku, is a man larger than life. And to stand next to him, to be loved by him, is an honour and a stain in itself.

You're known as 'His Girlfriend'. The luckiest girl on Earth, a position that many covert for you sit on a pile of riches that he so graciously gifted you. Not only that, Izuku is the ideal man. Compassionate, brave, powerful, smart, a little goofy and nerdy, he's the man every parent wants their daughter to bring home. And that honour belongs to you.

But having Deku as your boyfriend, means that you must also meet the world's standard. A girl that's equally as friendly, sweet, beautiful, successful, an ideal woman for the best man out there. And every day you look in the mirror with the thought, 'Gosh, why does he even like me?', so does everyone else.

Every time the two of you are out in public and get photographed, there'll always be a comment about your weight, your pimples, how it's always Izuku pulling his card out, how you don't treat his fans with respect. And your boyfriend does his best to fight back in the ways he can. In the rare interviews he'll always mention the love of his life, the woman supporting him from behind, who puts up with the 24/7 limelight and harsh critics of those who know nothing. He even enlists the help of his old classmates who try their best to change society's mind. But it only makes you feel more pathetic, that Izuku does so much for you and you can't even present yourself better.

It takes a long, burning, tearful shower for you to finally resolve to change. With a bright smile, you talk to Izuku about wanting to be more healthy and start volunteering.

He cups your cheeks, "Sweetheart, if it's about-", "Izuku, please...just let me have this", and your eyes swirl with so much desperation he can only say yes.

But the green haired man makes a strict schedule for you to follow, he refuses to watch you please the world and drop dead. He asks Ochako to exercise with you, where you start on light cardio and Pilates. Bakugo reluctantly sends you a few tips on healthier eating and even spends a day at your house meal prepping. Izuku doesn't know about this because the villain-like hero would burn your house down. He even asks his old teacher, Thirteen, to help you find volunteer work.

The world's opinion of you change when photos of you helping out at homeless shelters and after villain attacks. You also change as well, he notices. You've become more social, going out more and posing for the cameras rather than hiding from it. He sees your regular posts and stories at the gym, making healthy snacks, promoting charities, going out for brunch with the U.A. Class 1 girls. Izuku couldn't be more relieved. So many nights he has had nightmares of you taking dieting too far or working until you end up in the hospital, trying to become the perfect woman and breaking yourself in the process.

But change takes a long time and no matter what you do, the world will always bring up your past. And you've learnt to live with it, to understand that what you're doing is more than enough. However, that doesn't mean those comments don't hurt. Especially when it comes from the people whose words mean the most.

....

Izuku has met your parents many times. For the three years you two have been together, the hero has always made an effort to know your parents and get along with them. Your family also loves him, your mother is dreaming about the day she sees you in a wedding dress to him. The atmosphere is always warm, comforting, peaceful.

Until the small comments start to sneak in.

"Oh look at how skinny and pretty you are now!"

"Now my son in law will have no problem picking you up!"

"You should've seen her in high school, she would've weighed more than you right now!"

"If only she started dieting earlier! I kept telling her to, but she never listened and now look at her!"

Dieting, exercise, skinnier, prettier, smaller.

Of course you fire back at her. It's all jokes, but Izuku can see how much those words hurt. And every time, the ride back home is silent and you deep in thoughts. And every time after you come out of the shower, he sees you observe yourself in the mirror. Your eyes scan like society once did, looking for the imperfections. Wondering how you can erase the past, so that the world only remembers the pretty and perfect version of you.

His heart breaks, because why are your efforts never enough? He walks in and makes himself known, you jump before giving a soft smile. Izuku tries to return it and quickly digs his face into the crook of your neck. His large and scarred hands quickly hoist you up while you squeak.

As he carries you to the bed, Izuku has so many thoughts going through his head. You've always been pretty, ever since the moment he met you. He's always been able to pick you up, a hero like him should have no problem picking up boulder let alone a person. And he has seen you in high school pictures where you look so cute, he wished he met you earlier. And no, you shouldn't have started dieting earlier. Knowing the situation you were in, you would've only gained an eating disorder.

Dieting, exercise, skinnier, prettier, smaller. He didn't do any of this just to hear that from the people who should've supported you. As he laid you down, Izuku takes you in with trembling eyes. You give a smile back and beckon him closer.

Izuku has always been careful with you. His rough hands ghost your body knowing the damage they could cause, his lips only leave light hickies because he never wants to see you in bruises even if they're from love, he's always wary about the weight he puts on you and your stamina compared to his. But the nights you return from your parents are gentle as a feather. Your body becomes his temple, and he'll never stop worshipping. He oozes love and forces you to soak it up, the love that they should've had for you.

It's ironic when Izuku wants to be so gentle and loving, because it sometimes leads to him become more rough. He has so much to give that he can't see that you're overstimulated. He wants you to see that he loves you unconditionally, resulting in deep hand marks and love bites. Izuku wants you to understand that he's always on your side, so he'll hold you down and do his best to leave you quivering and blank.

....

But regardless of how he feels about your parents, Izuku knows he can't do anything about them. Because he knows that blocking your family isn't easy as it sounds.

"They're...it's just when it comes to this, they can become...off", you whisper trying to calm Izuku down, "Other than that, they're really good."

He knows, he can see it. How you're always sticking to your mother and how she always has your favourite food and snacks at home. How you melt in your father's arms and the way he monitored Izuku when they first met. Izuku sees the photographs hanging on the walls filled with parental love, the injury stories where it sounds like they were just in as much pain as you, the fights when they became a pair of bears.

Izuku also knows that in its own fucked up sense, they say that for your own good. Because he's heard you and your mother on the phone, how hateful she sounds of the media that talked about your weight and looks. Your father used to hate him for bringing you into a world that you never suited, until he finally saw Izuku as a man who loved you.

So Izuku will respect them and be civil. Because they raised you into the person you are today, the most loveliest person that he is honoured to be with forever. Because in their own ways, they also poured love and care into the soul to form it this way.

But that doesn't mean he'll take it lying down. You're his woman, and he'll protect you the way he did when society attacked you. He'll make sure they understand that their words have weight to them, and crush those words until they disintegrate to dust.

He'll do anything to show that you've always been beautiful since the beginning.

Hi Lovelies, meet Izuku the greenest flag ever~!

I hope you guys felt all of the emotions poured into this fic and how much Izuku loves you! I really wanted to portray the struggle of loving your parents and understanding how much they love you, but just having that one issue that always breaks the peace. For the girlies out there living with body shaming, hold your head up high because you have been beautiful since the beginning!

I'll see you another time ♡(˃͈ દ ˂͈ ༶ )♡

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

𝓜𝓮𝓪𝓷𝓽 𝓽𝓸 𝓫𝓮 : 𝐌𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲, 𝐌𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲

Some things just aren't meant to be.

Tags/Warnings: Angst, hurt & Comfort, Idol!Jungkook, Hybrid!Reader, Cat Hybrid!Reader, mentions of depression and depressive thoughts, heartbreak, homelessness, it's a bit heavy sorry, mentions of mental abuse and manipulation, betrayal, slow burn, eventual smut, dead dove do not eat

Dead Dove do not eat: warning for potentially triggering content that can't be tagged without spoiling the story.

Length: 2.4k Words.

-> Masterlist

~✿~;~✿~;~✿~;~✿~;~✿~;~✿~;~✿~;~✿~;~✿~;~✿~;~✿~;~✿~

"I'll take the left side, you look in the parking lots outside." Yoongi instructs, leaving Jungkook on his own- and he's stuck in place for a moment.

In an odd way, he knows where you could be hiding- because you've hidden here before, when you'd accidentally followed him outside, but got confused where to go since you haven't lived with him for even just a week yet. He remembers how you cowered in a corner at one of the spots where the bikes are put, little roof over it protecting them from rain- and also providing good shelter for you the entire day. He knows, right now, you probably do the same thing.

But his biggest problem is that he doesn't know what to do if he even finds you.

What's he supposed to do then? Sweep you off your feet like prince charming and take you home like nothing happened? It doesn't work like that, the problems from back then still exist today after all. You're clearly not well off at Hanako's, making it evident in the fact that you willingly ran away. And he can understand it.

But you also can't go into the hybrid care system due to his own company making sure you won't 'talk' to anyone who might ever adopt you. No one wants an older hybrid loaded with problems and legally binding NDA's at the end of the day, so your chances at ever really being adopted into a new home are pretty much zero. And if you are- there's a high chance those people will end up using you for higher gain. To defame him or his company, possibly.

And you can't go back with him, even if you wanted to.

Because with him, you'll have to go through all the harassments and forever continuing problems that Jin's now wife had to go through as well- probably even worse, considering you're not a human, but a hybrid of all things. He himself couldn't care less about the things people will probably say about him. They'll call him a fetishist, a pervert, whatever- it won't change what he's achieved in the past, the life he'd been able to life up until this point. But you don't deserve that. You don't deserve any of that hate you'll surely receive.

He should've thought about that before. But he didn't.

So in a way, he hopes for a while that he doesn't find you. That he's wrong, that you've escaped everyone, that you'll start a new life somewhere else maybe, far away from him and the consequences of his actions. But he's not that lucky. He never is, isn't he?

Your reflecting eyes stare at him from the corner you're hiding in, wide open, staring at him- and he doesn't know what to do.

He hasn't seen you in a while. Have you lost weight? Hanako promised him you were eating your meals properly, but looking at you, he worries she might've lied to him to simply soothe his anger a little. Your bright white hybrid tail and ears are grey-ish, dirty, and you just look terrified. He's never seen you like this.

Has he turned you into this? If not with his own hands, then probably with his actions.

You're trembling, and he doesn't know what to do. Everything his mind comes up with is some sort of skinship, reassurance, but he can't lie and pretend like he can just hold you and everything will be fine. It won't- and he knows this.

"Its my fault, isn't it?" He says, just.. standing there, looking down at you while you're still cowering in your corner, trying not to let the rain get to you. It's stopped by now, only some faint drops still falling- but the water is everywhere at this point, and you don't want your shoes to soak it all up.

You've got no way to get them dry later.

"Its my fault." He says again. "I didn't.. think it trough. I thought-" he speaks mostly to himself it seems, gaze distant as he watches his own reflection in the puddle of water he's standing in. "I thought it would somehow all work out." He tells no one in particular, and you don't know what to say. You don't know if there even is anything to say.

"I was naive to think that.. you know, I could just play pretend for a while." He continues, taking a step away from you. "I was hoping I could work towards.. the world, the fans accepting the.. possibility of us one day.." he seems to break a little. "But then, when Seokjin announced his engagement, and all hell broke loose.. I felt like I couldn't put you through that too." He tears up. "I should've known. I should've.. expected that, but seeing it happen like this, it-" he shakes his head. "I had to do something. Anything to keep you safe." He softly speaks, like he's trying to make you understand.

Even though you do. You know why he did what he did, somewhat.

"I shouldn't have taken you with me in the first place." He says. "You.. even asked me. You were the more mature one back then- you.. tried to help, but I was stubborn. I still am." He shakes his head. "I didn't want to see what could happen. I wanted to believe." He says, before he suddenly leans down, knees hitting the wet puddle as he kneels down. "I ruined your life because of my own greed." He tells you, and you worry for him as you watch his pants soak up the cold water. "I ruined any future you could've had just because.. I wanted you." Jungkook tells you, before his hands dip into the shallow puddle in front of him, body folding over as he bows- instantly terrifying you. "Please forgive me." He says, and you instantly move to push against his shoulders.

It's not his fault. It's not- you could've done something too. You could've been born something else, someone else- someone he could've been able to love without having to choose between the life he wants and the life he chose. You could've never met him, could've turned away from him, could've never accepted his offer to so much as talk to you back at the carecenter.

It's not his fault. It can't be. Because if it is, he would admit that the love you both had had been a mistake too.

"No-!" You whine, as you push harder against his shoulders for him to sit back up, but he doesn't move. He's a strong guy after all, no match for you- but you still try.

"I'm sorry." He keeps ranting, and you get up now, uncaring of your soft fabric boots soaking up as you try and pull him up now.

But he won't move.

"No!" You shake your head, letting yourself fall onto the wet pavement as well, crying out of frustration as you hit his back. "No.." you whine, pitifully as your tears get the better of you, body aching for him to hold you. You're scared, you don't know what's to come now, what will happen- you don't want to be in this nightmare any longer, you've never wanted this in the first place. So your weak hits turn into nothing as you cry out his name, desperate for any kind of reaction. And only then does he sit up, giving you a chance of crawling into his lap, desperate for any kind of reassurance.

You don't care if he doesn't mean it. If he wants to push you off, you'll let him- but just for a split second, you want to be surrounded by him, pretend you're back at his apartment, back home where you'd been happy.

But he doesn't push you off, and maybe that's even worse.

He wraps his arms around you so much it hurts a little, but you couldn't feel more pain than at the sound of his sobs in your shoulder. He sounds distressed, like a child having lost its mother, like you did back when you were just a kitten having been told that your momma will never come back home. He sounds just like you that day, all confused, and scared, and nothing but upset.

About the world that moves on, uncaring of you both or the situation you find yourselves in.

"Jungkook.." a voice is heard behind him, a young man with an umbrella you recognize as Yoongi standing close but with a respectable distance, watching with a look on his face you can understand somewhat.

He probably doesn't know what to do either. Can't help, can't make it better.

No one can.

So you just close your eyes, and become a ghost, enjoying his warmth for one last time. That's all you can do for him, for you as well, at the end of the day.

Because some things just aren't meant to be.

"Jungkook- come on, let's get her-" Yoongi tries, but Jungkook slaps his hand away, holds you even tighter now, while the rapper can't do anything but watch.

"no.!" He pitifully shakes his head, burying it in your neck. "Don't.. take her yet." He begs, but Yoongi is now more concerned over you than the mental state of his friend. Your tail is unmoving, resting in muddy water behind you, while your arms hang limply at your sides, not holding onto the young man at all any longer. Something's not right- the pale inside of your cat ears, your unmoving state of being-

"Jungkook, please-" He asks again, trying to get closer, step by step, as if he's talking to a dangerous animal. Which- in a way, he is. "-We have to get her help, okay?" He asks, and only now do Jungkook's eyes snap open.

You're not holding onto him.

You're not doing anything, in fact.

His own blood runs cold at the way he spots your unmoving tail, drops from the metal roof dripping down on it, but it just won't move even an inch. And neither does the rest of you move. Have you always been this cold?

His breath quickens as he slowly moves his arms, holds you a bit further away from himself- and your head just flops down onto his shoulder, making him panic. You're so pale- you've got no color to your cheeks, nothing- what's happening to you?

"Jungkook, snap out of it!" Yoongi begs, trying to somehow get his friend to put you into the car so he can drive you to get medical attention- but Jungkook can't move.

He's frozen in place at the sight of you.

You're resting heavy against his body, and only now does he quite grasp the severity of the situation. He can hear Yoongi on the phone with someone, but he can't really make out the words, brain just not attempting to understand any of them as he moves his hands underneath your clothes. His hands are cold, he remembers you'd always jump away from him with a giggle, before he'd chase you around his apartment- but you do nothing. You're not even warm at all underneath all those layers.

This can't be happening.

"Yeah- hey, Jungkook, come on, lets bring her to the car, okay?" Yoongi coaxes him, and Jungkook nods after a moment, finally coming somewhat back into reality as he carries you to the opened trunk where Yoongi had put down the back seats so you'd have a lot of space to lay down on. When he puts you down, you still don't move. Why won't you move? Not even a flutter of your eyelashes- you're way too still.

"Yeah, I'm checking, but I don't know where it could be-" Yoongi talks into his phone tucked between his shoulder and ear, zipping open your coat to search for something it seems, while Jungkook can't do anything but watch. "I think I found it? Yeah, kind of, but it's all red, looks kind of like a bruise.." He explains, and Jungkook stares at the spot on the inside of your arm.

Hanako.

"Heat implant-" Jungkook stutters, looking at it. "I-it's a heat implant, Hanako said she's had it since the beginning of the year-" He rambles softly, eyes never leaving you, especially once he spots your chest rising and falling shallowly and quickly at the same time, while Yoongi repeats what he's said to whomever he's talking to.

"Yeah, we'll be on our way right now." He says, before he closes the trunk, and shoves Jungkook into the passenger seat before he gets in the car himself. "They're preparing for us right now- we'll bring her to the hospital right now." He offers, rushing as best as he can, before the large building comes into sight. "Jungkook."

"What-" The idol asks, having turned around the entire time to reach for your hand- even though it's cold, and you probably don't feel him holding it.

"The minute we arrive, there's a chance someone will take a picture, or a video, or anything." He reminds him with a serious expression. "You can either stay inside-"

"No." Jungkook shakes his head, holding your hand a bit tighter, looking back at you. "I'm done. I don't care anymore." He says.

"There's no coming back from this, Jungkook." Yoongi says again, parking near the emergency unit entrance where he can see several people already waiting for them, considering he'd called. They've put something like a tarp up, considering they know that Yoongi himself called- doing their best to shield anyone from potential media. But the chance still stands, and his words still hold weight.

But Jungkook doesn't answer- and instead gets out to open the trunk, carrying you into the emergency unit, where they take you from him for the last time.

Leaving him alone, with his thoughts, and a heavy heart that will probably never heal from this.

Taking your ghost with them, never to return.

Because down the line-

Some things just aren't meant to be.

[nonexistent-introvert]

Back to December

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader

Word Count: 3.8k

Content: Angst, breakup, apologies, miscommunication, based off back to December

A/N: In honor of Speak Now Taylor Version!!! Been listening to her on repeat. Pls listen to the song while reading for the full effect.

  Javier should be happy, he had just taken down one of Cali’s godfathers, it was a dream for most DEA agents to do that. There was a celebration going on in the department for him and yet, he felt empty and anxious, the same kind of anxiety you get when you lose something close to you. He pushed his way through the crowd, stopping only briefly to force out a polite smile and shake some hands of the people who are congratulating him. Javier never liked the attention anyways, the congratulatory messages felt undeserving and insincere after hearing it for the umpteenth time. 

  “Start without me.” He replied to the various requests of wanting to toast him. Something was very wrong, he feels it in his gut. It was incredibly infuriating because Javier just can’t seem to pinpoint it 

   The epiphany hit him like a truck. Javier let out a shaky breath as he stepped on the accelerator in his car. A string of Spanish curses erupted from his lips, each one getting louder as he got more frustrated with himself. He couldn’t lose you. 

   Javier knew something was wrong the moment he stood outside his apartment. His gut telling him to just turn around and go enjoy his celebration, drowning himself in the alcohol before he could fully comprehend what has happened. Still, his determination to find out the truth was strong, giving him the courage to open the door even if he knew that he wouldn’t find you behind it. Javier strode through his small apartment, his heart sinking with every empty room. His eyes searching for you in desperation. Javier ran his hands through his hair, letting out another curse word in Spanish Your belongings that decorated his living space was long gone, the clothes that hung next to his were nowhere to be seen. Javier dragged himself to the comfort of his kitchen, needing the alcohol to numb the pain in his heart when he finally noticed the note with your handwriting, placed right next to the roses he had bought for you on his way home just a few days ago. 

   “I’m so sorry.” Three words and you were gone. Javier downed the alcohol in one go, letting the burn of the whiskey burn away the lump in his throat. His only comfort and reminder of you now were the roses in front of him, the only sign that being with you wasn’t all a figment of his imagination. 

  ======================================

I'm so glad you made time to see me

How's life? Tell me, how's your family?

I haven't seen them in a while

You've been good, busier than ever

We small talk, work and the weather

Your guard is up and I know why

You fidgeted with your hands anxiously as you waited for Javier’s arrival. You weren’t sure if he would even show up. So seeing his broad shoulders enter the bar made you sigh in relief. He was wearing a white button-up with a tie, having long abandoned the black outerwear. Javier gave you a nod of acknowledgment while you smiled at him, “You still drink whiskey neat right?” You asked, gesturing to the whiskey you had already bought for him. “Yeah, yeah I do.” He replied, giving you a smile back in return. The tension rose in the air as the both of you enjoyed the drinks. 

  It had been 2 years. 2 years since you left the 2-year relationship with nothing more than 3 words.  

   “Thanks for coming.” You began. “How’s life?” You continued with the most basic of conversations. Javier's eyes met yours, hurt clouding his vision. The both of you have drifted to the point of talking about the usual common conversation topics. He tore his eyes away from you. “And Chucho, he doing ok?” You questioned further, trying to stop the silence from settling in between the both of you. Javier shrugged, “He’s good. I-I haven’t been back lately.” He admitted with a grimace and from the look on his face, you knew Javier was cussing himself out for not going back to visit him. Javier always blamed himself. However, you didn’t feel like you were the right person to be offering him comfort. “Work has been a little overwhelming,” Javier confessed, taking another sip of his drink. “I saw.” You nodded, “Um- through the news and all.” You inhaled, you weren’t sure if Javier cared but you figured he had to know. “I’m proud of you, you’re really making a difference.” Javier's eyes shot up to meet yours before he let out a laugh, “Am I?” He asked incredulously. Javier tried to ignore the pain in his heart, he had lost you to pursue this change in the world, was it really worth it? Javier shook his head, turning his head to the crowd in the bar instead. You knew him well enough to know that he didn’t need any other comments, he didn’t want to continue this conversation about his contributions. 

   It was small talk and curt replies. You clenched your jaw to stifle the ache in your heart. It hurts, it made it hard to breathe. Javier used to look at you with adoration and a soft smile, now he was avoiding your eye contact despite you trying your best to hold onto him. It was the consequences of your actions after all, you had to face it one day or another, or you could let the guilt and the possibility of ‘what could have been’ haunt you for the rest of your life. 

  You never knew that Javier being on guard around you would hurt you this much. It was only now did you realize how much he had truly opened up to you then. How much he trusted you with his vulnerabilities only for you to take it all for granted. 

Because the last time you saw me

Is still burned in the back of your mind

You gave me roses and I left them there to die

  The pained look on his face every time he met eye contact with you was enough to break your heart. He furrowed his eyebrows and clenched his jaw before averting his gaze away from you, as though it physically hurts him to look at you. Like a moth to a flame, no matter how much it hurts, Javier couldn’t help the fact that his eyes. would always search for yours. The note next to the roses, he could remember it like it was yesterday. He has replayed that memory so many times till the point it had burned itself into the lining of his mind, trying to find out what had gone so wrong between the both of you. He was sure everything was well, he was sure he gave himself fully to you. The withered roses he had came back to after burying himself in work was another cruel reminder that his relationship with you had came to an end. 

==============

These days, I haven't been sleepin'

Stayin' up playin' back myself leavin'

When your birthday passed and I didn't call

  Javier Peña never left your thoughts. He rarely did when you were with him and he never did when you left him. There were fragments of him everywhere you went, especially when it reached his birthday month. The memory of you packing up, of you breaking down on his couch the very same night before you finally mustered the courage to leave and not turn back. It was a rash and impulsive decision but if you gave it any other extra thought you would not have committed to leaving. The worst part of it all? The relationship would have destroyed you no matter if you had chosen to leave or stay with Javier and you didn’t want to drag him down into the wreckage. The problem was you, you didn’t want to fight, you didn’t want it to end in an ugly fight, so you left. Or maybe you were just too afraid to open up and face Javier. The word ‘maybe’, was what kept you awake at night. You would stare at the calendar on your desk, the date marked with “Javi’s birthday” was like a stab to your chest. You should call, at least wish him, and hope he isn’t overworking himself and that he had all three meals. You fidgeted with the pen in your hand, trying to put yourself in Javier’s shoes. Ultimately, you would come to the conclusion that it was unfair to leave him, only to reappear in his life on his birthday showing concern for him. You swallowed, forcing yourself to scribble out that reminder on your calendar. You didn’t need it anymore. 

   On the other side of the earth, Javier's fingers hovered over your contact number in a payphone booth. Curls of his hair have fallen onto his forehead and stuck to it because of the sweat. He missed you so much, he just wanted to hear your voice. Especially when he had just dodged a bullet and barely made it back to Bogota alive. Javier needed you. 

   But he still forced himself out of the payphone booth. You must have left for a reason. 

Then I think about summer, all the beautiful times

I watched you laughin' from the passenger's side

And realized I loved you in the fall

  The most beautiful moments in your life were spent with Javier. It was hard forgetting such beauty. The times when he would drive you around his hometown, excitedly telling you all about his childhood and pointing out buildings. When his shoulders were less tensed and a smile graced his features easily in the comfort and safety of his hometown. When his laugh made your stomach fill with butterflies and your ears turn red. It was a simple memory but it carried so much beauty. That Javier was a different person compared to the Javier you see in Columbia. Maybe things would have turned out differently if he was always that Javier who was happy and not the version of him in Columbia who had a constant scowl on his face, a permanent wrinkle in between his eyebrows from frowning too much, and the asshole who pushed everyone away. 

   You loved it when the orange hues of autumn and the sunlight was paired together, highlighting his features, and making his smile even brighter than it already is. You preferred it more than a dim desk lamp that cast a shadow against his face as he worked tirelessly into the night. Sadly, that was the version of him you were more familiar with, the scene of him being overwhelmed with work was a more common sight than a smile on his face. 

And then the cold came, the dark days

When fear crept into my mind

You gave me all your love and all I gave you was goodbye

   It felt like waking up from a dream when the both of you eventually returned to Columbia after Autumn. Chucho sent the both of you away reluctantly with various snacks he had bought from a local store. The keychain of a cow still hung from your home keys, a reminder of the ranch that Chucho owned, the ranch that Javier had grown up in. 

   During the winter, the nights were longer, making Javier’s absence even more apparent than it already is. You pulled another blanket over you, trying to fight the cold of the winter. Javier was always your personal heater, but he isn’t here with you. He rarely is. With nothing else to occupy yourself, you let yourself drown in your own thoughts. The overthinking induced fear, fear for your relationship with him. A fear that you didn’t even notice until it was too late, when it had already plagued your mind till it induced a ‘fight and flight’ response in your mind. Javier made promises, promises that you knew he tried his best to fulfill. Promises that he would spend all his time with you, preferably back in Laredo, and that he would leave this bloodbath known as the drug cartels. However, the cold only made the fear spread. The drug cartels were like the Hydra, slice its head off and another one grows back. The idea of Javier being able to leave this bloodbath seems like a fairytale. You only fear that the only way out would be at the cost of his life. 

     You knew, you knew that you were a weakness for him. Javier had admitted it to you before which is why he was very overprotective of you. If anyone came after you because of him, Javier would unleash all hell upon them. You too, wouldn’t forgive yourself if he had gotten hurt because of you. In his job, Javier couldn’t afford to have a weakness. 

    Javier had given all of himself to you. He needed you to know how much you meant to him, that he couldn’t live without you. This amount of love manifested itself as a weakness for him and you felt sorry that you didn’t have the capability to contain the love he had given you. It was the worst trade ever, all of his love only to receive a goodbye in return.

====== 

So this is me swallowin' my pride

Standin' in front of you sayin' I'm sorry for that night

And I go back to December all the time

It turns out freedom ain't nothin' but missin' you

Wishin' I'd realized what I had when you were mine

I'd go back to December, turn around and change my own mind

I go back to December all the time

 You forced yourself to meet his eyes, those eyes that still made your knees weak. Your heart was pacing till the point that you could hear it thumping in your eardrums. You swallowed the pride that has stopped you from reaching out before, in fear of rejection. 

  “I really shouldn’t have done that. I'm sorry. I know I should have talked to you.” You paused, trying to find the words to convey your thoughts. You were never good with words. Javier downed his whiskey, staring down at the floor. Your fingernails dug into your skin at his indifferent reaction, you needed to go on despite how much it hurts to witness his reaction. 

   “I miss you Javi, I really do. If I could turn back time and make myself realize how much you truly mean to me I would. I would have chosen to stay.”

  “Then why didn’t you?” Javier coldly questioned. It was at times like this where he was thankful that he was trained to keep a poker face so that you couldn’t see how much his heart is burning for you. 

   “I was terrified of losing you. Both figuratively and literally.” Javier frowned further at that, his eyes shining with a glint of curiosity and confusion. You rubbed the back of your neck, unsure how to phrase it for him. 

   “Your job, it carries some risks that I understand but matters just kept getting more and more dangerous. I was afraid that one day you wouldn’t be able to walk through your apartment door again. I was terrified that you lose yourself to the job, letting the haunting scenes and guilt haunt you till the point where you were too far gone.” You explained to him. To put it simply, you were too afraid to carry his burdens with you, too afraid of having to bear the weight with him. You didn’t think you could handle it when the shine in his eyes one day dimmed till the point of no return and he looked at you with eyes with no soul behind them. Javier downed another glass of whiskey, letting it burn down his throat, similar to how his heart burns. 

   “But the time I spent with you. I will never regret it. I go back to those times every time, missing you and hoping to experience it again.” You admitted, trying to blink away the tears that has formed in your eyes. You prayed that Javier takes your watery eyes as a simple reflection of light. 

I miss your tan skin, your sweet smile

So good to me, so right

    “I miss you Javier, I really do. I miss seeing the smile on your face everytime your eyes meet with mine, and your tan skin that contrasted your bright eyes, making your eyes shine even brighter.” Your ears burned at the admission, feeling like a teenager confessing to their crush again. Javier had always given his best to you, he had always tried to do right by you. You were just too blinded by fear then to notice the obvious. 

   “Was this why you were crying that day when I found you?” Javier questioned again, his mind swirling with questions for you. Deep down, a pang of guilt wrapped around his heart, he must have missed out on something or done something wrong. He messed up like he always did. The worst part of it all was that he never noticed. 

====== 

And how you held me in your arms that September night

The first time you ever saw me cry

   Javier’s heart shattered when he saw your tear-stricken face. You were curled up in a ball on the bed, your hand trying to wipe at the never-ending tears while your whole body shook uncontrollably. 

   “Cariño,” He called out, “What's wrong? What happened?” Javier asked, hurriedly walking towards you. You immediately stood up from the bed, your back facing him, trying to hide the tears. “Fine.” You managed to croak out. Javier slowly approached you, not wanting to scare you away. “Please talk to me.” He pleaded. You shook your head, “It’s stupid, just an emotional scene on TV”

   You turned around, facing him with a smile. His heart broke into a million pieces. He knew you were lying. You were smiling, the traces of the tears long gone. It terrified him how good you were at hiding your emotions. How many times have you simply just covered up those tears with the smile he loved so much and he just never noticed due to his exhaustion from work? Your eyes scanned him up and down before you fell into his embrace. Relieved to see him back in one piece. Javier was by your side again and that was all it matters.  The thoughts that haunted you when you were alone vanished when he was with you. 

   That was the first time Javier had seen you cry. His mind was in a complete mess as he embraced you against him. Disappointment tugged at his heart, did you not trust him? Why did you have to hide your emotions from him? “Tell me what was the reason for this?” His thumb caressed your cheeks which had been covered in tears just a moment ago. You snuggled into the crook of his neck. 

   “I’m fine Javi, just an emotional scene on TV.” 

   Javier dropped the subject after, trusting that you would talk to him when you felt better. And yet you never did. However, his workload made it easy to forget that he has yet to find out the reason behind his tears. He didn’t pursue it then, maybe things would have been different if he had. 

======

Maybe this is wishful thinkin'

Probably mindless dreamin'

But if we loved again, I swear I'd love you right

   You nodded glumly to his question. “Fuck” Javier breathed out, downing yet another glass of whiskey. The urge to stop him from drinking, from intoxicating himself for the better of his health was there, but you knew you didn’t have the right to anymore. Honestly, you could use the alcohol courage too, you were just afraid that you may black out before you finish what had to be done. 

   “I-” You started but close your mouth again, picking your next words carefully. You met his eyes again, a small happiness in your heart when you felt your heart pace, even after all the time apart, he still had the same effect on you. Glad to know that your feelings for him weren't from the past memories but for Javier himself. 

   “This is wishful thinking.” You thought out loud. Javier's eyes widened at your words. “What is?” He asked, swirling the whiskey in his hands. The glimmer of hope ignited in his heart, despite everything you had done, he couldn’t help that his heart still yearns for your love.  You swallowed, taking a deep breath to calm your erratic heart. 

  “If you gave me a chance again, I’ll love you right this time.” The words were finally out. 

I'd go back in time and change it, but I can't

So if the chain is on your door, I understand

 His silence only made your nerves worse. “I really wish I could go back and change how things ended between us but I know you can’t” You continued, fidgeting uncontrollably under the table. 

When you met his eyes and saw the blank look on his face, your heart shattered into a million pieces. “I understand if you won’t. It’s ok.” You told him, forcing the lump in your throat back down. “I wanted to see you today to apologize, not to ask for a second chance anyways.” 

   “I’m so sorry,” Javier replied. Your heart combusted at his words, a ringing sound in your ears. It was the very same three words that you had told him when you left him. Now that you heard it for yourself, you finally realize that it hurts more than you had thought. You let out a laugh, feeling foolish to even think Javier would give you another chance. “I get it.” You grinned at him. 

   As much as Javier wanted to reach out to you and give you the chance to love him again. He couldn’t bring himself to know that he can’t give you what you want. That he can’t choose between you and the DEA. He couldn’t handle it if history was to repeat itself. He didn’t want to go through that pain again. He would rather feel lonely than compromise your safety and let you be his weakness again. 

  “Thank you for everything, Javier.” You smiled warmly at him, glad to finally lift the burden off your chest. Despite how your heart bled at the fact that the both of you were not going to be anything more. You deserved it. At least, you had the memories of your time together to accompany you. 

 But this is me swallowin' my pride

Standin' in front of you sayin' I'm sorry for that night

And I go back to December

It turns out freedom ain't nothin' but missin' you

Wishin' I'd realized what I had when you were mine

I'd go back to December, turn around and make it alright

I'd go back to December, turn around and change my own mind

I go back to December all the time

All the time

[i-cant-sing]

I am very, very sad right now :( so I will use this time to make another OC that will comfort me <3

Meet Theodore. He's an undercover agent/assassin who is deaf. He's been working at his own cafe that he'd inherited from his grandpa, as a cover story. To maintain his low profile, he rarely works at the front of the shop, preferring to stay in the kitchen and let someone else handle the customers. Because there are still some assholes that like to make fun of his disability, and he only doesn't have the time to kill so many people from the same town and clean up as well.

You've recently moved into his city. Theodore always keeps tabs on everyone, so the moment you'd stepped into his cafe, his agency had already sent him a complete background on you. You were a normal person, nothing really stood out about you.

The barista had gotten sick that day and went home, so Theodore had to work in his place instead. You'd just ordered your coffee and busied yourself with your phone. He was trying very hard to read you, and while nothing really stood out about you, his guy told him you were not as normal as you seemed.

Something was up with you, and he was determined to find out.

While he was psychoanalysing you, some jerks had decided to interfere and mess with him instead. They were calling him derogatory names and making fun of him in general, not knowing that Theodore could very well read lips and he was very close to throwing the hot pot of coffee on them.

But before it could come to that, you told them to stfu and knock it off. Obviously, these guys didn't take it well and walked over to you and asked if you'd got a crush on the retar-

Before they could finish talking, you punched one guy in the face, and when his friend tried to grab you, you threw your hot coffee on his face, some of it spilling and burning your own hand too. The guy you'd punched earlier took your momentary distraction and threw a chair at you, but it never hit you. Because Theodore had grabbed it with one hand.

And then... he launched the chair back at the man.

The furniture sent him flying down with a deep gash to his forehead. Theodore stalked towards the other guy and punched him in the face, breaking his nose. The guy was howling in pain, but Theodore didn't give him time to recover as he yanked the man up by his collar and gave him the deadliest glare ever before nodding his head towards the exit.

That was enough for the man to understand what Theodore meant and he didn't waste another second before dragging his unconscious friend out of the cafe.

Theodore turned his attention back to you, finding you holding your bruised knuckles. He went to the back and brought you some ice in a towel, gently taking your injured hand in his and icing down the swelling. You both didn't say anything for a while, at least not until you'd pulled your hand away and said thanks.

He just gave a nod.

"So... you read lips?" You asked. Theodore nodded. "Hm, figured as much. Well, thank you for the ice. Here- let me help you with this." You said as you helped clean up the coffee you'd spilled. "Yes, sorry about this. I- I'll take my leave-" but he stopped you when you tried to pay for the coffee. He pulled out his phone and typed into it.

No need. On the house, for standing up for me.

You smiled. "No biggie. I'm Y/n." He typed into his phone.

Theodore. Its nice meeting you.

"Theodore. I like it." You nodded. He began typing again.

Haven't seen you around here before. Passing by or staying?

"Staying. For a while. I haven't decided how long, I'll have to see if I like it here."

He nodded. Well, if its any consolation, those 2 jerks aren't representative of most people here. Besides, I think the town could use some people like you.

You giggled. "Well, if you continue making good coffee, I just might stay here permanently."

-

From there on, Theodore began keeping tabs on you, initially under the guise of being wary of you, but then when he found out that you were his new neighbour, your apartment right next to his, the universe practically was begging him to stalk you.

I mean, he wouldn't have really bothered with it after he confirmed you had a clean background, but it just- he couldn't get the way you stood up for him (a complete stranger) against two men who were twice your size, out of his mind.

And maybe he could've overlooked it if it was only a one time thing. But it wasn't quite one time thing.

Theodore has observed that you have a... bleeding heart of sorts. You stand up for anyone and everyone that comes in your sight. Someone's bullying a kid? You get those bullies to apologise. Someone's giving the homeless guy a hard time? You butt in, with a feral fighting stance against some asshat who could break you like a twig.

But your "good samaritan" behavior tends to backfire a lot, leading you to sometimes having small bruises to a fractured bone or two. Which then leads to Theodore worrying himself sick over you, and he tries to jump in as often as he could without raising the suspicion that he's stalking you. You'd lead him back to your apartment (too trusting) and offer him dinner or something while he insisted on bandaging you up. One of these days.... one of these days someone is gonna pull a knife or a gun on you and he won't be able to save you. The mere thought worries him, and he tries to convince you to not help everyone you see, especially at night. You just laugh it off, telling him that "I'm not a klutz, Theodore. How stupid do you think I am?" before grabbing the hot handle of the pan and burning your hand.

Theodore stays up night wondering if you're in bed or ran out to the street in your bunny slippers because you heard someone cry. He wonders if you'd even locked your door.

He could... he could always check, right? He's just a concerned neighbour-

Theodore was now standing outside your room. As it turned out, you did lock your apartment door, but then Theodore got worried if you'd left the gas stove on, or if you were even breathing. So he broke in, as quietly as he could, just to check up on you. And then he couldn't stop staring at you.

He left eventually, realising how creepy it would look if you saw him, but not before putting some a few cameras around the house (how you didn't hear him is beyond him).

Now, he can keep an eye on you even when you're not at his cafe💖

However, something about you still bugged him. Like you were off somehow, perhaps hiding something.

So he decides to date you. But not because he loves you or anything. No, no. This was only to get close to you, only to spy on you... right?

Now he's dating you. You were reluctant at first, but once he was able to charm you (mostly by making you pity him when he told you he's ne er felt like this before for anyone because he never thought anyone would date him because of his disability. Which is complete crap because he had a lot of people falling for him, but Theodore pushed them all away because he hated them).

Dating you allows him to be near you. He can swing by your apartment a lot more often, and that gives him a chance to snoop through your stuff.

While Theodore is looking around, you're doing all the lovey dovey stuff and since he's never been in a relationship, he's falling hard for all of it.

Cuddles? He loves them, never knew how much it made his heart swell when he wrapped his big arms around your small frame.

Kisses? He's kissed a few people on the lips for missions, but omg how cute are your kisses on his nose and cheeks. He's melting inside.

His favourite thing to do with you is reading. You're just snuggled up to him as he holds a book, and you're both reading it. Usually, he reads up on world history and psychology, but with you, he's reading all types of genres. And you look so cute when you'd dose off.

But perhaps the nail in the coffin was when you learned sign language. For him. You did that for him. How- what- WHO DOES THAT???

And now, he's completely and utterly in love with you.

And once he's able to admit that to himself, things are likely to go downhill for you.

His protectiveness increases by 10 folds. Which means more trackers and bugs on you, more of him accompanying you wherever, more lectures about how it's not always a good idea to leave the house to help complete strangers. He has literally climbed on top of you to prevent you from leaving your bed in the middle of the night (only moving away when you insisted that someone might need help, and even then he'd push you back into bed and go check out the noise himself)

Theodore never liked possessive s/o. He always thought that was a very toxic trait and a huge red flag to have.

It's funny how blind he is to his own possessiveness. He hates it when other people interact with you, when others have your attention. You waved it off as "cute" when Theodore would hold onto your hand or tried to block your door when you wanted to meet some friends. You just kissed his nose and ruffled his hair (and he just melted into your touch), telling him you'd be back soon. It's just that Theodore has never had someone so nice to him, so selfless and caring. He just has you now, and he doesn't ever want to let go of you.

I don't know why, but I think of Theodore as this big cuddly bear that sometimes huffs when he doesn't have your attention. Like he just stares longingly at you through the cameras wondering if you're just pretending to have a good time to mask how sad you actually because you miss him terribly.

He absolutely loves it when you drop by for surprise visits. Like Theodore would be busy on his laptop, typing absentmindedly because his mind is actually preoccupied by you, and then boop! You surprise him with a kiss on his pouty lips. His dumbfounded reaction is always so worth it.

What's not worth it is him tackling you into a hug as if he hadn't seen in centuries, which is followed by Theodore pulling you into his lap and making you wrap your arms around him as he hooks your head under his chin because as terribly as he had missed you, he still has work to do. And even though he doesnt allow you to move until hes finished with work, he's warm and fuzzy and he gives you headpats (and some pats on the bum).

Sometimes when he's sleeping next to you (with a leg and an arm draped over you to make sure you don't escape into the night), he wonders how important you've become to him. How much control you have over his heart. He would catch sharp knives with his bare hands for you (you should ask him to do that. He's very good at it). And it scares him a little how he's sure he would lose his mind if something were to happen to you.

He pulls your asleep body closer to him, silently pressing a kiss to your ear.

I love you so much.

[zuffer-weird-girl]

So what if chisaki and his S/o haven’t seen each other in one year and then they meet eachother like fluff chisaki

He despised your boss.

He hated the fact that you had relatives over that freacking place you had to go...

He loathed how his chest tightened... loathed how he felt like a bucket of ice cold water was dropped on him when you told the news.

One year. 12 months. 365 days.... without you close.

For a man whose was know by his mysophobia and lack of empathy towards others.... it was kinda hard to imagine he would be like a damn statue at the airport... on the day you left... holding you with a petrified look and refusing to let go until those damn voices called all the passengers of your plane.

He had the memory of coming back home with his usual numb look but feeling like all the weight of the word was perched on his shoulders... mocking him. Mocking him for his stupidity. Mocking him for feeling like shit just from seeing someone go....

Except that someone was actually... really, really important for him.... someone he just couldn't picture his life without... not anymore at least.

The boss was worried sick. He could tell. The way the old man would secretly pass by each day by his office; occasionally ask him how things were doing with both of you...

He couldn't lie. Things were complicated.

You both were actually.... super close. So it ended up on a few discussions on why the hell you couldn't visit Japan to see him or vice versa...

Both of you were busy. It was a nasty year. But it didn't stopped his and yours selfishness...

Video chats were, what Mimic would call, a pain in the ass. Your internet was shit, sometimes the audios didn't come or the image of you spammed and he swore one time his computer glitched on one of his and yours calls. Not even speaking about the time lapse and your busy schedules.

But... he was some sorta of relieved that despite the distance you both manage to stay in contact and that... neither you or him gave up on you two.

Now... December. It has been a year and a few days... snow was covering the streets and for him it was both refreshing and disgusting. Most people with low immune system got sick around this time of the years and for holy God he hated snow... it was so... weird.

But it was refreshing... despite the amount of people he had to be close to...despite his anxiety getting the best of him... he waited.

Constantly checking on his watch, one that you gave to him, he clicked his tongue in annoyance.

You were late.

By only 5 minutes. Yet still late.

He sighed, his warm breath being trapped by his plain black mask as he watched carefully the crowd for any similar features.

He flinched at the contact of a nasty finger poking his shoulder... he went to slap the hand away and turned abruptly to see who the hell was behind him only for his usual golden eyes widen in shock at seeing you. Mask on due to protection and eyes squinting in happiness... he could tell you were smiling so brightly under that thing...

"Hi." You whispered softly... the crowd was huge but he managed to listen to it as his hives slowly calmed down.

"Hello." He talked back, trying to ignore the cursed butterflies fluttering on his stomach... chest.... everywhere.

He had a smile on his lips... he could feel it since his cheeks were burning a bit.

Both of you got out of the airport, your baggages already on his car as Nemoto drove you both back to the hassaikai.

His fingers twitched as he sat besides you... you two didn't touched yet, you knew of his little problem, so of course you wouldn't push it too hard.

But what if he told you that he was actually on a internal battle with himself..? What if he told you his mind was split into two? One begging for him to just move and feel you against him again, and the other arguing that you needed to clean yourself first due to the germs of the plane and all the places that you've been.

The longer you took in the shower, the faster was his movement of his knees bouncing. He appreciated that you took good care of yourself for both him and yours sake... but God dammit couldn't you just hurry up?

"I missed this. The bathroom smells like you." You sighed, already with a change of clothes as your discarded the old ones on the bin.

You gasped at the abrupt hug he gave to you as his bate hands both hold the back of your head and the small of your back... his face buried on the top of your head as your eyes widened.

Sure, you missed him... but this was Kai Chisaki. A man that despite you knowing he loved you, he never was one to just cling onto you like this.

Ir was only when you heard his shaky breath and the murmured words your eyes watered as you hugged him back with a giddy smile.

"I missed you too. Very much." You murmured back as his thumb carried your skin.

.

Bonus

.

"Finally his humor will come back to being acceptable." The elder laughed as he hugged you tightly.

"You're squeezing (Y/n) too tight." Chisaki murmured in annoyance as you giggled and hugged the elder back.

"Please they are a life saver inside here." The elder spoke seriously before whispering to you "Really, worst year of his life and for the hassaikai, don't do that again kid."

You snorted as Chisaki scoffed.

[haila-wetyios]

Intervention

The several advantages of one of the man made highest spots in Eastern La Noscea is that you can see who else is trying to make the trek upwards.

The disadvantage for this particular advantage shows itself when you've been camping in one of the closest spots to the sun in Eastern La Noscea for several days without end.

Whether it be a mercy or a bane, Haila is silently grateful that her trek up this tower was not witnessed by many if at all. She'd done it before after all. She knew each step and structure long before they'd added several different ways instead of the old paths that defied the laws of physics. But that didn't save her from needing to relearn how far she had to jump certain places.

But she wasn't here to reminisce or bask in the fact that even while settling into her 'oh im old' role better as of late, that she could still in fact climb to the top of the tower built for Moonfire Faerie no.

Her main goal was Rhua.

Because by now she'd waited long enough. Sent several supplies, blankets, even food up here and despite a raging fever and sunburns, Rhua still refused to come down. Honestly this had already crossed the line of a child refusing to do so.

Which meant it was time for Haila to finally put her damn foot down. And a conversation through a linkpearl would not do at all. She had to face Rhua, even if that had meant several bruises to get to the top.

She'd already been lenient enough. And by now she could no longer look the other way in her daughter's path to self destruction.

"Hey." she told the Viera from behind her, arms crossed, her old swimsuit still fitting, the large scar on her right leg glistening under the sun.

Rhua's ears merely twitched some, she was still crouched on the plank facing towards the bomb themed platform one was meant to jump towards. But alas, she didn't respond much despite her flushed cheeks and the several empty cans of food surrounding her. She'd clearly heard her mother, but her wish to stay was still there despite everything.

The sight was both sad and, honestly disappointing. But Haila had never been one to say such to her own children. What did elicit out of her though, was a deep sigh.

"You know, you're rather old to be doing this now." Haila said, her voice firm. Which only earned a scoff from Rhua as she continued to stare off at the sunset.

She was doing well hiding the dehydration. But even she had to admit her body was reaching it's limit after being up here for so long.

"You always say that. But you know both me and Rhea will likely have at least half of Viera years..." Rhua said, briefly peeking back at her mother before she looked away again. She didn't have the stamina to play pretend face to face.

"Give us some slack. I don't even look as old as the people that grew up with me back home." Which was in fact true, except Rhua had never bothered to use this particular point in an argument. But bringing it up now was a good reminder of something that had been laying there in the back of her head. Whether it was something to worry or accept though, had yet to be seen.

With silence filling the space between them, Haila caved with a sigh as she walked over to her daughter and hugged her from behind. Rhua was truly burning up, some skin was peeling off her shoulders from the constant sun. No amount of lotions or umbrellas could keep her safe if she'd chosen to stay up here this long.

Haila was tired. Just truly tired of everything. Bureaucracy juggling, security assignments, babysitting reckless fools, and all of that on top of trying her best to be around her children. And now Rhua had happened.

Her daughter had never been a burden. And still wasn't. Everything else but her family was a burden. But sailing the line between mother overbearing a middle ages daughter and a mother needing to care for her offspring when necessary was always a tricky business.

Rhua was no different. She too was exhausted. Of everything really.

It was the broken heart. The loneliness. The stupid unresolved threads. And the fact that the fireworks weren't doing their job anymore. In her own sad way she'd thought she'd taken control by staying in a place that not many would reach easily.

The worst part was that it had worked for a time.

But now she was at her limit. Staying wasn't going to resolve anything. It didn't help that La Noscea had a rampant problem of sudden rainstorms in the middle of the night.

"You need to stop getting into fights Rhua.." Haila finally whispered to her. Which only caused Rhua to haggardly chuckle at that.

"Now you're assuming things and asking me directly about it?" she asked, finally peeking over her shoulder at her mother. "You got the wrong idea... This... isn't...fighting.." she said, her voice dying out near the end. It was clear there was more than that hiding in this sudden tantrum of staying in a high place. And she lacked the ability to express it in it's easiest way.

Crying.

"Aye aye..." Haila whispered, not letting her hold of Rhua soften at all. Though to be fair, she was being rather gentle considering the several sunburns that Rhua was sporting. "I know you don't want me butting into your personal life. But I can't watch you keep doing this to yourself Rhua. You're self destructing yourself more than even I have done. Please... Just stop and come down. I know you're very sick by now because of this stunt."

Whether it was because this was Rhua's tipping point or not. She couldn't stop herself. Despite the lack of tears, she kept sobbing some like a little kid that needed comfort. Again.

When this happened she always felt powerless. But what was she supposed to do? She had nothing to keep her from thinking back on the things haunting her. She knew what entailed now that her mother was here. She'd be dragged back into the household. She'd probably be monitored. Maybe made to watch the kids again.

None of this was a burden really. The children hadn't done anything wrong. Her mother hadn't done anything wrong.

Rhua was the burden.

And she didn't know how to stop. Turns out work really had been the only reason she had to keep herself busy. But busy from what? Life? And now she didn't know how to live one in freedom or peace.

A mildly traumatizing childhood in Norvrandt, two eldritch encounters and then an entire near machine war sort of did that to you.

And even those were better than the simple things. Except it was that. The simple, small things that always kept Rhua running were mostly gone. Or at least gone from routines that didn't demand she deal with the trouble that meant being with a family that had done nothing wrong to her yet still keeping a certain distance.

Honestly what should Haila do like this? Unaware of most of the things Rhua wouldn't vocalize? Not that she didn't have an inkling. She always blamed herself for this. For her daughter being stuck in a place where she couldn't come back from. And it wasn't this tower in particular that she was thinking of.

No, it was the fact that despite everything she'd tried. She'd failed. Failed Rhua, Rhea, and Rutla. Either by not saving them, or merely by existing, dragging them into situations and trouble no one should have to deal with.

Not this time. She was here. Perhaps Rhua would never tell her exactly what had happened to her. Or disclose any feelings that had a chance of being known by anyone other than herself. But being here is all her daughter needed. And that was enough. At least for now.

Between quiet half sobs and waiting for the fireworks to start, Rhua finally relented as she raised a hand to hold her mother's. Her ears were slightly singed and swollen, her hair mostly matter, and her swimsuit not exactly clean by now. But she shouldn't be here any longer.

Just how many fireworks shows had she recorded by now anyway? Enough to last a lifetime? Certainly not. But enough for variety when she wouldn't be able to see them? Yes.

"Ok... I'll.. I'll just lay down once we're back. I'll rest." Rhua finally said with a slow nod as her gaze refused to meet her mothers. She knew she'd been in the wrong anyways.

What was there to fight about? That she'd done something stupid on a whim after having actively tried to go outside and distract herself?

That was already proof that she really was a hot mess. Though perhaps... She would be reminded how that ran in the family. Because as soon as Haila checked on Rhua's temperature, her breathing and her overall physical state, she sighed in relief.

"You'll be bedridden for a time. You know well what this means for your visits. But the fastest way to get you down from her is still feasible. And I'm glad about that." Haila said with some relief as she prepared herself.

"What do you mea-"

And then and there, Haila merely took a quick breath and. Without much further ado, yanked Rhua by her attire so hard that she tossed her off the lookout plank.

This had been the main reason she'd climbed. Getting Rhua down in this state would be harder than jumping off after all. Though not the best solution to the rather loud scream Rhua let out as she was caught. The reassurance was there once the people waiting for her all the way down let Haila know that they'd managed to catch her in the landing pad.

Now the main problem remained, getting Rhua to a chirurgeon and helping her heal somehow. It might or might not work. But Haila couldn't stand aside any longer. She'd watched enough.

[lostmyhufflepuffstatus]

Tear Drops on My Guitar

Word Count: 957

Summary: You've been friends with Sam Winchester for a long time, but lately you have been gaining more than platonic feelings for him.

Warnings: terrible writing as per usual

Genre: Angst????

A/N: I guess I'm breaking out of my Criminal Minds fandom shell... not going to lie the Supernatural fandom scares me... even though I have been a part of it for over 8 years.

Requests: OPEN

It had been two years of being at Stanford University with Sam Winchester, a year and a half since you got the courage to talk to him in a shared class, and just over a year of friendship. It was a shock to nobody when you told a mutual friend about your more than platonic feelings for Sam. For a while, you held up hope that he might share those feelings, I mean, it's hard not to form a bond with someone who was up all-night studying with you and was one of the first people to congratulate you when you got that near perfect score on the LSATs, even though they were a music composition major.  

There were many drunken nights where he would tell you a bit about his family, how his father was constantly moving him and his brother around as kids, and how Sam never got the chance to put down secure roots in one place until he got into school. He admitted that he hadn’t told anyone about that until you. He could finally have friends and a life of his own. You thought about those nights a lot 

  You dragged your eyes away from his form, looking down at your notebook to look like you were studying, but the paper was blank. You knew deep down that if you kept looking at him with her, you would start crying in the middle of the courtyard. But you couldn’t help yourself as your eyes returned to him and Jessica. You wished with everything you had that you could hate her, that you could just pretend she didn’t exist, that she was some horrible monster that would just go away once you opened your eyes and stopped being scared. But you couldn’t. She made your best friend so happy; she was so kind to everyone and had never said a hateful thing about anyone that didn’t deserve it. That was what hurt the most.  

You couldn’t picture anyone more perfect for Sam, nobody else deserved the kind of love that he showed her. You had never seen the smile on his face that he had. Sure, he smiled at you, and those were genuine, but the smiles he reserved for Jessica made him look alive like he was invisible.  

You forced yourself to look away and gather up your things. You had tortured yourself for too long. While rushing to shove things into your bag, you couldn’t fight the urge to just look up one last time. As you were standing up Sam turned his head away from his conversation with Jess and met your gaze. You saw his face break out into the brightest smile, and that hurt. You forced the muscles in your face to return his grin with a small smile of your own. He looked like he was going to get up to try and talk to you, but you knew that you couldn’t take to him right now without spilling your heart out for him, and the rest of the students wandering around to see. You gave him a small wave before turning on your heel and making your way out of the courtyard as calmly as possible.  

You could feel your eyes starting to burn with tears. The second you knew you were sure Sam wasn’t following you and you were out of his line of sight; you started running to your room. You needed the safety of the four blank walls. It was a blessing that your roommate had gone home for the weekend and wouldn’t be back until Monday.  

You almost broke your key in the lock as you rushed to push the door open. You closed it hard behind you and locked it. The moment the lock clicked into place you felt the tears come. Sliding down the door, you covered your face in your hands and just let the tears go and today you couldn't seem to get them to stop. You didn’t know how much time you spent sitting on the floor in front of your door, how long you felt like the sobs being forced from your body would tear you in half. It was long enough for the sun to start its descent in the sky and the first stars began to show. After the last tear was expelled from your body, you forced yourself to take a deep breath, and then another.  

Standing up you turned to the mirror that was covered in pictures, pictures of your family, your friends from home, your cats Moose and Squirrel, and of course a picture of you and Sam. That one had been taken on your 21st birthday. He had his arm around your shoulders, and you were making stupid faces at the camera completely in a world of happiness and bliss. You carefully removed the photo from the mirror and held it in your hands; you had an impulsive thought to just tear the photograph into little pieces and throw them away. But you knew that you would regret that if you did, so you shoved it into a drawer in your desk. You shoved your shoes off, not bothering to put them back where they needed to go before climbing into your bed, still in your day clothes. Pulling the blankets over your head, you hugged a pillow close to your chest and forced your eyes to close.  

Maybe going to bed early, incredibly early apparently since the sun hadn’t fully set, and getting some sleep would make you feel better. Forcing your eyes to close, you hugged the pillow tighter as the first silent tears began to fall you thought about that smile, it was like you were back in the courtyard again but this time instead of Jess, that smile was for you. 

[cottoncandy-cult]

New Kind Of Home Pt 2

Zelman Clock X Fledgling! Reader

(Y/n) giggled from where she sat in her room, she was a fledgling black blood that had recently joined the "darkness" of the special zone. She lived in Zelman Clock's manor; she was one of the few maids who took care of the east wing of the second floor. This had been Zelman's wing, which thankfully meant it didn't get near as messy as some of the other areas since Zelman himself wasn't innately messy. Like the other maids she was paid nicely, so she often spent her money on food and her hobbies. One thing she had become really taken with was making candles, sure there were all kinds of things she could do in this day and age but candle making had just really caught her eye. She loved getting to pick the scents and make the designs, she even had a little shop online to sell her creations. Of course, everyone knew about her hobby, at any kind of gift giving event she often made custom candles for the people she was close to. Currently she was sat on her bed, a sketch pad on her lap as she doodled some ideas for some new candle designs. Though she was quick to put down her pencil when a knock at the door caught her attention, she looked up in the direction of the sound as she sat up straight. "Come in." She tilted her head slightly, raising an eyebrow as she saw her boss come in. "Hey there, Sayuka said you missed lunch, so I came to check on you." He stepped into the room, his hands in his pockets as he glanced around. Despite being seen as a villain by some, Zelman paid attention to those who served under him and took great care of them.

"Sorry, I got hit with some inspiration and lost track of time." The young woman sat the sketch pad to the side, scooting closer to the edge of the bed. "You can sit down if you like Sir." She smiled sweetly as the red-haired old blood chuckled, moving to sit in the chair at her desk. "So, what kind of candles are you making this time? Those cupcake candles you did for Jura's birthday were pretty popular." Zelman leaned forward, peaking at her sketch pad. Something she happily passed to him, (Y/n) loved getting to talk about her creations. "I wanna do some pie themed candles, I was thinking of doing 3 kinds. Apple and cinnamon, Peach and Vanilla, and Mixed berry. I was gonna keep the design simple, layer 3 different colors each." She pointed to the designs, explaining her thoughts as she indicated to the colored layers of each candle drawing. "I see, simple and classic is always appreciated. I think the Peach one sounds best though, so make sure you make an extra for me, ok?" He had winked at the woman, not oblivious to her blush as she nodded her head quickly. "Of course, if you ever have any requests let me know. I like getting to make personalize candles."

The young woman scratched the back of her head in embarrassment, trying to talk away her flustered cheeks. "I'll keep that in mind, I'm sure you've noticed I always have a candle burning in my favorite rooms. So, it would be nice to get something personally made for me, having it be one of your products just makes it all the better." His words had (H/c) female stuttering and stumbling over her words, something that stopped with a squeak when one of Zelman's large hands gently cradled her cheek. He stared into her eyes, his grin never faltering. "Just as I thought, you're even cuter when you're flustered." His thumb stroked her cheek, and in her flustered state all she could think to do was hide her face. So, she turned it into his palm, closing her eyes as she listened to Zelman chuckle. "Would you like to have lunch with me (Y/n)? A new restaurant opened in the old sector, so I was going to check it out." He slowly sat back, removing his hand as she had finally met his gaze once more. "S-sure, I've finished writing down my ideas anyways…" She bit her lip, her hand fiddling with the pencil that sat on her bed. "Let me get ready first, I don't wanna go out in public in my maid outfit. That would draw so much attention." She blushed darker at the thought, having made the mistake of doing it once and there wasn't a single person that WASN'T looking at her. Though her words made Zelman laugh, nodding his head. "Understandable, I'll be waiting in the common room downstairs. Meet me down there when you're ready." He winked at her again just to see her flustered face once more, then moved to stand and exit the room. Once that door closed behind him (Y/n) flopped back on her bed, her hands resting over her racing heart as she took several deep breaths. She wasn't oblivious to how attractive her boss was, the other female workers were often desperate for his attention and fawned over the older male. She didn't want to get ahead of herself, despite his behavior she didn't want to assume this was a date and embarrass herself later by saying the wrong things.

Though she didn't spend long like this, after all he was waiting on her regardless of the reason why they would be sharing this meal. It didn't take long for (Y/n) to get changed, she didn't do anything too fancy. A simple (F/c) sundress with some black tights and a pair of flats, she had worn a few bracelets around one wrist and a chain necklace that had a red jewel which rested against her collarbone. Her footsteps were quick but quiet, not wanting to seem desperate or accidentally trip in front of him. Before she entered the common room, (Y/n) came to a stop and took a moment to brush out the skirt of her dress and adjust the top to make sure it was settled comfortably but nicely. "I hope I didn't keep you waiting Sir." She entered the room with a shy smile, he had changed as well into something a little less recognizable for him. Leaving his beanie off he had brushed out his hair, settling on wearing a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. Despite the relaxed look, he still brought color to her cheeks at the sight. "Not at all, I actually just set down before you arrived." He moved to stand, approaching her with his hands in his pockets. He stood close to her, offering her a fanged smile as his cologne engulfed her. "You ready to head out? I was checking the reviews, and this place is supposed to have some pretty good grilled food." He offers her his arm, grinning at her darkening blush while she slipped her arm within his own and nodded.

All she could do was swallow quietly; afraid she'd stumble over her words if she tried to speak in that moment. She took a slow breath, looking up at him as calmly as she could. "Thanks for inviting me, it's been a while since I've gone somewhere new to eat." She looked away from him after that statement as they made their way out the door, causing the old blood to chuckle and hold his head high. "It's no fun to try something new alone, besides you always make for interesting company." His bold words made her heart flutter, she had to focus on her breathing a moment as she looked up at him once more. "I enjoy your company as well, Cayne and Sei can be somewhat intimidating so I'm glad it's you I work under." This made Zelman chuckle, his head tilting as he gave her a fond look. "I'm glad you're so comfortable with me, I'd hate to think I scare you. I'm glad Sayuka brought you to my home, as a fledgling I can imagine it was quite lonely coming to the special zone on your own." His words held an understanding tone, Zelman had seen many people come and go within the special zone and within his domain. Most of those that came on their own found themselves feeling lost, the special zone was a big place and could be a little hard to get used to.

"I will admit it was overwhelming, I was beyond lost in the city and if it wasn't for Sayuka I'm not sure I would have found a place to live that night. I was a bit scared at first, I wasn't really sure what I should be doing but you made it easy for me being so naturally organized." She smiled softly at the thought as she stared ahead, she had been so afraid at first. But she had been given ample patience to get adjusted to her new life. "You reminded me of a kitten when you were first brought back, soaked in the rain and jumping at every noise. It was pretty cute, I felt bad for your cause you looked so out of place. So, I had you placed in my personal wing since I figured it would be low maintenance and easier for you to adjust to. I meant to adjust your duties once you had got used to the place, but there was no real need for it and since I needed someone to clean my wing anyways, I decided to just let you stay where you were. Plus, I got used to seeing you in the mornings on my way to breakfast. It was a nice routine, and I wasn't ready to give it up yet, I know you aren't a morning person but watching you sleepily waddle down the halls just makes my day." He chuckled as he looked to her, seeing the way her cheeks flushed as she looked into his eyes made his own still heart beat once more. "You aren't wrong, I hate being awake early but the sooner I get my chores done the sooner I can read or work on my hobbies." She turned her head to the side, subconsciously leaning into his side and not noticing til his arm slipped out of hers and wrapped around her waist. It left her flustered at first, though she had soon melted into his side as she took comfort in his presence despite how he made her heart race uncontrollably.

"You know, I'd like to spend more time with you if you're up to it. I'd love to see how you make your candles, if that's ok." He smiled down at her, one of his pointed fangs visible as they walked together. Leaning her head on his shoulder, she hoped it made it harder for him to see her face directly. "I wouldn't mind, no one's ever asked to see how I do it before. Maybe you can help me design a candle, you know pick out the colors and smells and stuff…" She bit her lip, fighting the urge to meet his gaze which she could feel focus on her. "Alright, it's a date then." He winked at her when she looked at him in shock over his wording, causing him to give into his urge and press a kiss to her cheek before watching her brain short circuit. They slowed to a stop as she stared at him as if he just laid the stars at her feet. Releasing her side he took her hand, raising an eyebrow as he pressed another more gentlemanly kiss on her knuckles and kick start her brain once more causing her to stumble over various words before giving up and hanging her head while hiding her face with her hand. He loved her reactions; it made him want to smother her with affection until she was a flustered mess. For now though, he held back, lacing his fingers with her own as he led the way to the restaurant for their planned lunch.

[fullofgutsndopamine]

ludwig au in which he tries to pick up the pieces after you left

TW: cursing, ludwig has depression, non happy ending, implied relationship

when things go bad in threes (the broken cup, the broken door and the stained carpet) ludwig will squeeze his eyes shut hard enough that he sees stars pop behind his eyes and try and remember you in the most vivid colors you were before, when he actually knew you.

before

"no i just, ludwig licks his lips, trying to buy himself more time, "think it's fucking dumb-"

he's hoping for someone to cut him off. both from the amber colored liquid that swirls around in a red solo cup in his hand, threatens to slosh over the sides-and to cut him off so he can shut the fuck up. before people realize how miserable he is, how he's talking to fill that empty lull that follows him around and torments him.

his eyes linger over the crowd of people he only knows from a business standpoint, knows they all think the same of him-how successful a video will be, the amount of views and likes with it

shut me up he's practically screaming just shut me up get me out of here-

"Hey" the person across from him shrugs, less sober than he is, "money is money, amirite?"

he laughs like he said the funniest joke in the world, an elbow in Ludwig's spleen that makes him almost double over as liquid falls out the side of his cup and onto his brand new shoes.

ludwig's eyes scan the crowd for a safe haven, for a way out of here without whispers of him leaving early, the controversy it would cause, how it could ruin his job, ruin the networking he worked so fucking hard on.

his eyes slide over to you, miss you, come back.

maybe it's because you're the only person here who isn't hell bent on networking, on being the loudest in the room-happily sipping from a cup in the corner of the room, your eyes focused intently on the ceiling titles.

he knows right there he needs to talk to you.

getting away was a work of art. ludwig isn't much for bragging but really, monuments should be named after him for how he effortlessly got away from the glances and looks and side eyes on him.

"Come here often?"

ludwig is afraid he sounds about as sober as he feels as he slides next to you, a death grip on his cup, to hold onto it like it's a safe spot.

"please tell me that's not your pick up line." you'll both tell it differently (ludwig that you were almost instantly obsessed with him, you that you couldn't let him drive home drunk, had to get him to his house safe) regardless of how it happened, it's burned into your mind.

the car is a gentle hum on an almost abandoned highway. ludwig's hand rests on your thigh and you try to not think about it as your fingers slowly dance and trail down his spine.

the second there's any signs of civilization, that people do in fact exist, you pull off to the side of the road and all but pull ludwig to the gravel. he lays his coat down and insist you sit on it before he takes a spot next to you.

"it's nice, right?" you hesitate before leaning your head against his shoulder, acting like you don't feel him stiffen up, completely pause when you come in contact with you.

he sees what you're staring at the city lights not far away, the gentle hum of traffic that passes-if he listens close enough he can hear the hum only a city can provide.

he looks at you as you admire it. how your eyes are wide with wonder and amazement-how he knows your eyes are going to be burned into his mind for eternity, how he's going to see them whenever he closes his eyes never again able to find rest-like you've never seen anything so majestic-like the city is majestic and not a maze of lost people and bright lights

ludwig let's out a gentle sigh, careful to not ruin this for you. wants to see the flashing lights you see, the amazement that comes with it, everything new and exciting.

instead all he sees are fires on the coastline

the bright reds and yellows and oranges make him wince, has to stop himself from bringing his hand to his eyes to shield them from the inevitable, to not ruin this for himself

i could let you in he thinks. opens his mouth to let a part of him come out, instead closes his mouth:

"mhm."

days pass. they're mostly spent in ludwig's room, in a twin bed where the two of your knees bump into each other clumsily, sharing a glass of the cheapest red wine he can find.

there's a constant there, one he never wants to forget, as you listen to him talk, the way your fingertips slowly dance and trail over his spine as he talks, how it makes him melt and mold into you how he knows he can't fuck this up-won't fuck this up.

the bliss lasts a few months.

dates to the beach when the sun has set and a dark blanket has been thrown over the two of you, even though it's hot and your shirts stick to your backs as he walks with you, pinkies interlocked, his phone plays quietly in his back pocket.

it's perfect. too perfect, he knows this.

parts of ludwig leak out. it seems like he spends time trying to find the source of the leak, to find the containment leak and to stitch it back up before you see it, before you take note and leave like everyone else has from him

it starts slow; fights in hushed voices but ludwig's is always louder always breaks through:

"tell me how everything i do is never right-"

"ludwig." you plead, "talk to me. it must be hard to keep it all inside-"

he rolls his eyes.

"don't be so fucking dumb," he spats, "i haven't kept anything in-"

the fights start and end the same-you're tangled into bed with him, hard to tell what limbs belong to who-

ludwig wakes up with his head under water. the world is loud around him, but it's buzzed and muted in his ears, makes everything sound far away or like they're talking with their mouth full of marbles. he opens his mouth when he sees you, when your eyes open, to form a sentence, to strain to make the worse string together to make you feel like he does, but it comes out all wrong.

people see the downfall, the way he's acting different, but no one says anything.

"i swear to god-" slime holds his hand in the air, his nose turned up, "if this is another thing about your partner-"

"they aren't his partner," aiden giggles, "he wishes-" ludwig rolls his eyes but collapses his shoulders and makes himself smaller: "it's not a thing-"

"things include but aren't limited to," slime puts his fingers up and slowly ticks them off, "comments, appreciation comments, fawning over them-“

"you said comments twice," nick sips from a half melted cup of dark colored coffee, "that slashes it in half. You get one back now, Lud. don't make me regret it."

"they're-" he searches for the words but only a groan comes out.

"wow," nick says, "remind me to never let him have another fucking win again.”

ludwig spends days in his bed.

rotting away, you'd insist-trying to get him out, to let you in-he pushes you further away, only see him with darkened bags under his eyes from lack of sleep, hair a million different ways-

you're gone.

he knows this. physically and literally you're no longer there. if he closes his eyes, allows his mind to really wander, to allow himself to see you- he sees the flash of your eyes, bright and seeing the skyline for the first time, walking backwards as you pull him around. if he squeezes his eyes shut more he can almost feel your fingers on his spine.

he huffs. flips over in bed and closes his eyes again

[martellspear]

̷𖤐֪ elia martell x taylor swift albums

— folklore

— the lyrics picked were the ones that made me think of her/her relationships/her plot.

︵࣪⏜ꪻ𖡼̸֢֢࣪᭡࿔︵࣪

​the 1: “If one thing had been different, would everything be different today?”

cardigan: “Tried to change the ending, Peter losing Wendy.”

the last great american dynasty: “Who knows, if she never showed up, what could've been?”

exile: You're not my homeland anymore, so what am I defending now? You were my town, now I'm in exile, seein' you out.

​my tears ricochet: “You had to kill me, but it killed you just the same. Cursing my name, wishing I stayed, you turned into your worst fears. And you're tossing out blame, drunk on this pain, crossing out the good years. And you're cursing my name, wishing I stayed.”

mirrorball: “And they called off the circus, burned the disco down. When they sent home the horses and the rodeo clowns. I'm still on that tightrope”

seven: “Your braids like a pattern, love you to the Moon and to Saturn. Passed down like folk songs” [the way this irradiates elia x oberyn]

august: “Back when we were still changing for the better, wanting was enough. For me, it was enough.”

this is me trying: “And it's hard to be at a party when I feel like an open wound”

​illicit affairs: “They show their truth one single time, but they lie and they lie and they lie a million little times.”

invisible string: “Time, curious time. Gave me no compasses, gave me no signs.”

mad woman: “Do you see my face in the neighbor's lawn? Does she smile? Or does she mouth: Fuck you forever?” [I had a very specific scenery in mind when I made this choice]

epiphany: “Only twenty minutes to sleep, but you dream of some epiphany. Just one single glimpse of relief to make some sense of what you've seen.”

betty: “If you kiss me, will it be just like I dreamed it? Will it patch your broken wings?”

peace: “And you know that I'd swing with you for the fences, sit with you in the trenches. Give you my wild, give you a child. Give you the silence that only comes when two people understand each other, family that I chose, now that I see your brother as my brother. Is it enough?”

hoax: the entire song :)

“You knew it still hurts underneath my scars from when they pulled me apart, but what you did was just as dark.”

the lakes: “I want auroras and sad prose, I want to watch wisteria grow right over my bare feet 'cause I haven't moved in years"

[mlobsters]

supernatural s14e15 peace of mind (story: meghan fitzmartin, steve yockey; teleplay: meghan fitzmartin)

what in the riverdale is going on in this opening

JACK You want to know how much of my soul I had to burn off to kill Michael. CASTIEL Yes. JACK I don't know. I try not to think about it.

well cas has this fun and painful method just jamming his hand up in your chest cavity and we can find out

guess we're picking the rando au people we didn't know except kinda maggie for sam to be traumatized over (my long held irritation over no mystery spot trauma rears its ugly head :p but it's only just gotten way worse over the years) way back when they used to follow those things through pretty regularly

so sam's running off to the riverdale hunt because he can't stand to not be busy

CASTIEL You were right. Jack is struggling. And I've tried, but -- DEAN Why do you think he'll talk to me? CASTIEL Well, because he looks up to you. And his soul -- I mean, you've seen this before. DEAN No, no. No. See, I was -- I was not great with Sam, you know, when he was uh... CASTIEL But Jack's soul isn't completely gone. At least I don't think so. W-We just don't know how much is left. DEAN Well, how am I supposed to figure that out? CASTIEL I don't know! Just talk to him. Get him to open up. And then sleep until the cows come home.

the stuffed face eyeroll :p i know it's part of his schtick but i hate the massive bites thing.

literally the most impractical cars they could pick for traveling cross country for hunts. old fucking american cars. sure to break down constantly and consume staggering amounts of fuel

SAM I'm good. I'm good, honestly. CASTIEL Yeah, I know. Everybody's good. But after this, maybe Dean's right. You need to rest. SAM Can't.Just because I'm tired doesn't mean the monsters are gonna stop, you know? Doesn't mean anything. Plus we don't have as many Hunters as we used to.

a) love to see the snark from cas b) that is the LAMEST excuse because they had this surplus of hunters for what.. a handful of months at most? i don't even know. NOT VERY LONG.

CASTIEL Yeah. It's like we're stepping into a Saturday Evening Post. I look at them sometimes after you fall asleep at night. They're very soothing.

do they have a stockpile in the bunker of them? is he reading them on the internet? so many questions. and reminder of the weirdness of him never sleeping

is the free milkshake gonna put the 50s whammy on sam?

CASTIEL Oh, no. His head exploded. CHIP I'm sorry! CASTIEL Like a ripe melon on the sun.

occasionally the way they do his social obliviousness does hit for me

SAM Passionate how? CASTIEL She spends, uh, quite a bit of time talking about the -- the shape and the heft of his --

LOL ok

guess we're going with clueless!dean dealing with the maybe-soulless!jack. hokay. the stilted attempt at bonding over the snake, the ... test of angel food or devil's food snack cakes...

MS DOWLING Oh. The very nice, the very tall fella? CASTIEL Yes.

LOL cas in a huff over the lady being charmed by sam. and the milkshake lady too. yes, looking for the very tall man 🙄

good "does not compute" face from cas

JACK I don't know. I know I don't feel nothing, but I don't feel the same, either. And maybe I just don't know what nothing feels like. Mostly, I just don't want Sam and Dean and Cass to worry. DONATELLO They're your family. Families worry. JACK But I just -- I need time and space to figure things out on my own, but everywhere I go, there's someone looking over my shoulder. DONATELLO Ah. When I need to, uh, "blend," I ask myself, "What would Mr. Rogers do?" JACK Who's Mr…. DONATELLO Rogers? The best man I know. Sam and Dean are the best men I know.So, ergo, whenever you don't want them to worry, just think "WWWD" -- "What Would the Winchesters Do?" JACK I can do that.

reminds me a bit of amos in the expanse, knows he doesn't have a good moral compass so naomi is often is his. ps you should watch this show. it's so, so good.

the expanse s1e2 AMOS Ask me whether or not I should rip your helmet off and kick you off this bucket, and I couldn't give you a reason why I should or shouldn't. Except Naomi wouldn't like it.

--

DEAN So he's not like you? DONATELLO Oh, no. I'm a Prophet of the Lord, but he -- Jack's probably the most powerful being in the universe. I mean, really, who knows what's going on inside his head?

like okay so we're regressing to dean being freaked out over jack's powers now i guess, with the questionable morality. but also, surely jack can't be more powerful than the most juiced up god? why didn't archangels go around making little stronger-than-god creatures before

CHIP What, did you think it was the milkshakes?

well, they got me too. still unclear what this dude's deal is even after that long speech

CASTIEL Sam, I know you want to be happy. And I know what it's like to lose your army. I know what it's like to fail as a leader, Sam. But you can't lose yourself. You have to keep fighting. You can't lose yourself, because if you do, you fail us. You fail all of those that we've lost. You fail Jack. Sam, you fail Dean.

said the magic word to wake him up. can't let dean down

DEAN Heard you wore a cardigan. CASTIEL Yeah, I told him about the cardigan. SAM Great. Thanks. DEAN And the wife. He said you were, uh, really happy. SAM Thanks.

i would like to imagine this taking place as texting with pictures

DEAN Really happy, huh? SAM I mean, I guess I was happy, but… It wasn't real, you know? Just… DEAN Well, not a lot of happy goin' on around here. SAM I hate this place right now. I hate it. Everywhere I look, I see them. I see Maggie. I guess that's why, uh -- why I was so desperate to get out of here, why I kept running us ragged. But I got to stop that. I-I can't keep running. I -- This is my home. This is our home. Dean, I think I just need some time. DEAN Okay.

just give him a hug, dean. bah. shoulder pat and walking away, lame. anyway, good on you, sam! telling him straight up why you're struggling. kinda would like to see a little more support other than the immediately complying with the need for time/space from dean, but ok.

JACK Cas says you miss your friend. You need help. Sam and Dean would help you, so -- so I'll help you. I'll help you see your friend again. In Heaven.

lol great great. and cas got to see it.

[teabutmakeitazure]

Twisted but Tender - 2: Thawing the Ice

>Yan! Childe x Fem! Reader

a/n: fun fact this was actually the premise of a different fic but for some reason I made it a part 2 to this one. There's nothing explicitly yandere here though. I promise it gets better. It's just a bit odd at the start because of the feeble attempts at world building.

Warning: mentions of self-harm

Series Masterlist

------

The coat he wears seems too thin for the weather. He's going to freeze to death someday with that. Whenever you go out, your face is barely visible in the thick layers while he just puts on one coat, a pair of gloves and just... leaves. You try your best not to scold him for that lest he mistakes it for you caring for him.

Just what is this guy made of?

"You're staring."

You snap back to reality, "Sorry."

"No no," a grin finds way onto his face, "keep going. I was waiting for you to come around."

"Despite your proudness in reading people like books, you don't understand me even half of the time."

"Well, communication is key in a relationship is it not? You don't talk to me much, so how can you expect me to know you so well."

Great, now this is turning into the everyday banter. A boring exchange that only leaves you in a foul mood. Insufferable, how characteristic of him. You opt to stay quiet, softly watching him get dressed from your seat at the edge of the bed. Thank goodness he had the decency to at least wear his shirt when he came in. It wasn't buttoned but at least he wasn't half naked.

"Just when I thought you'ld finally talk to me, you go quiet." He looks at your reflection in the mirror, frowning, and you look back. It's odd. That expression he has, it almost seems sad. No, he doesn't deserve your pity. He's far from normal, far from sane. There's no reason for you to feel bad for him. Stop feeling bad.

A sigh and he pats his disheveled hair down, "I didn't want to leave today. It's a pain to always have to go out and handle matters when I want to just stay home for a while. Nonetheless, my duties must be carried out and swiftly." He turns and saunters over to you, grabbing your attention and making you face him. "I hope you won't do anything while I'm gone. Please? I'ld rather not come home to see you trying something stupid."

"The most I'ld do is crack open a window to get some air in," you deadpan. He reaches up a hand and cups your cheek. Despite your efforts to not lean into it, you feel yourself wanting more. It almost makes you miss the soft look in his eyes. Needy, sure, but you're prideful too.

"Please don't hurt yourself this time."

Ah right, you slightly burned yourself with hot water last time. In all honesty, that was an embarrassing attempt at making tea. You ended up getting first degree burns and a strict questioning from him when he came back. It's a miracle he hasn't seen the new marks on your arms. Who knows what hell would break loose then.

And just like that, a wide grin is back onto his face. "Try not to miss me too much."

-

You thought he'ld be gone till late in the night but he came back in the late afternoon. Only a few hours of him being gone. Correction, only a few peaceful hours.

Now that he's back, he's staring you down like a hawk from a distance as you try your best to focus on a book you managed to bring from home. A bitter memory.

The silence of the living room and the ticking of the clock are the only thing your mind is registering as the background. Most of it is a blur as you try your best to focus. But those piercing blue eyes, goodness it feels as though you've been put under a spell. For the who knows what time, you ask yourself, just what is this guy made of?

A few minutes pass and he shifts his position to dangle his legs off the single seater couch. That gaze doesn't even falter when he does so. It's unnerving and you're fighting back the urge to either tell him to stop or get up and leave.

You chose the latter.

However, he follows behind you like a baby duckling with its mother, feet padding across the wooden floor. You have half a heart to send him a glare but you refrain.

With someone who craves excitement and action, it's best to be neutral.

When you seat yourself down in the study - if you can even call it that given he doesn't let you spend time there when he's home - he props himself onto a chair near the bookshelf. His staring resumes.

With a sigh, you look into your book again. That's when he speaks up, "You've been oddly quiet ever since I came back."

"Aren't I always quiet?"

"In a way but right now, it feels that something is off."

With those words, the half fresh marks on your arm start to throb and you swallow nervously. Luckily, you think of a counter, "Your stare. It's unnerving. Cut it out, please?"

His eyes widen but he switches back to a neutral expression, "I remember you telling me not to look at you with that look you hate but really? Can I just not admire you?"

"You're gawking at me. It's weird!"

"Oh," he smiles, "I suppose it's fine considering that we're married."

"That doesn't excuse the creepiness! It feels like you're trying to cut me open and disassemble me. Gives me the creeps."

"I'ld actually like that. Would be helpful in getting to know why you hate me so much."

"Had I hated you, I wouldn't even be conversing with you."

He gasps, "So you finally love me?"

"Goodness no! I'm trying to stay neutral, but you're making it very hard right now."

You can't even begin to fathom how he went to such a brash conclusion. Even worse, you can't believe you're stuck with him for the rest of your now surely miserable life.

The howling winds take some of your little to give attention and you have an idea. You look into his eyes and speak up. "Ajax, aren't you cold when you leave with just a thin coat on?"

He smiles lovingly at the use of his name, "It's lined with a little something that traps body heat really well so it's equivalent to three layers. Convenient because it doesn't hinder movement."

"Huh, sounds neat."

His smile doesn't falter. It stays the same, wide and loving. It makes you want to grab his face and just ask him what his deal is. Does he want you to suffer or to be happy with you? Did he, quite literally, take you away just to have someone to live with or was there something else? Something like the fear of losing something or someone to circumstance?

You are again at conflict with yourself. 'Do I hate him or not? He's loose in the head but is that even excusable? What do I do?'

As you internally debate, all the while squinting your eyes at him, he seems to have an idea. You don't even register him walking to you and kneeling down in front of you.

And you sure as hell don't register both his hands coming up to cup your entire face. It's the sensation that brings you back.

"W-what are you doing," you manage to breathe out with warm cheeks.

His cheeks flush and the tips of his ears redden as well, "Trying to figure out what's wrong."

"What do you mean? I was only trying to read a book. Your staring was too distracting."

He shakes his head and you eye the hair that bounces around his eyes. "I saw your arm when I woke up. Your sleeve was pulled up while you were sleeping."

No no no no no no no-

"What's going on?"

It's at this moment when you miss the times where he'ld threaten and isolate you. It's right to hate him for those actions but what about this? When did you give in? Why did you give in? The previous moment of surrendering was long gone, and you wanted to go back to not saying a word and scowling when he got too close. So why did you allow him to be so close? That too with his hands cradling your face like applying a little too much pressure would break you.

When did you get so weak?

All you can do is stare at him wide eyed. Just what do you say at a moment like this? 'Oh yeah, I just like to watch the fluid in my tissues rise to the surface of broken skin and the little dots of blood slowly form a constellation of pain.'

You stay silent.

His gaze, however, remains fixed. It's like he knows what his eyes do to you. They're a contrast to the cold world outside this house. An ocean, a warm one. That's what each of those blue eyes are. Sometimes they just love to drown you as you beg for air.

"I didn't think you'ld be this sick of me." He tuts, "And just when I thought we were finally getting better too."

You want to say something so bad but you won't in fear of revealing too much. He doesn't have to know this side of you, for it's none of his business. That excuse won't hold him back though. You do hope that your frantic heartbeat does do something to soften him and leave you alone. After all, you are his soft spot.

He keeps staring into your eyes like he's searching for something. A weakness perhaps? Something to exploit that would guarantee you answering him. It's his go-to plan, to find a way and use it to his advantage. That's what harbingers specialise in. Nevertheless, despite his mind games, he doesn't have the resolve to mentally toy with you too much. You're already like a little blooming flower in his eyes. One that's struggling to grow in this cold, merciless land and desperately needs the help of its lovely gardener to take care of it. To make sure it survives.

"Do you despise me? Or maybe," he half closes his eyes, "you hate me for what I did to you."

Sensing that there's a chance to divert the conversation, you reply, "I don't hate you for it. What I do hate, however, is the fact that I can understand your actions from a perspective. That still doesn't excuse it though."

"Well I'm glad to hear that there's still hope for you to like me again."

'I still do like you, you idiot.'

"I wouldn't recommend letting it get to your head." He chuckles, "I'ld never dream of it."

You scoff in return, and he lets go of his hands to hold yours in his. With his thumbs brushing over yours, you can feel your internal 'issues' coming to rest. It's serene, short-lived.

"What do I have to do to get you to talk to me?" His question was a whisper, and his voice almost sounded desperate. It makes your heart ache that someone usually so strong and carefree is desperate for an answer just because of you.

Against your better judgement, you speak with the same exhaustion as the time you first hugged him. "I'll talk to you but please," there's heavy desperation in your voice, "promise to love me."

"I already do."