#my shelves are coming along nice :D

[sophisticatedheart]

once my nendo comes i need to post my current bsd collection... im also probably going to the bookstore on wednesday to get more manga bc theres 20% off next week so obviously im gonna capitalize on that Rubs my hands together....

[ariaxmu]

romance brewing

a theodore nott x fem!reader fic

summary: friends to lovers, just cutesy, fluffy n two lovesick cuties.

first time writing for theo !!!! enjoy, i hope its okay..

theo and i have been best friends since we were four. our parents met, were best friends, thus making us best friends. ill admit, a lot of people assume we are dating in secret anyway. it’s not true. we aren’t. just friends.

yes, just friends.

except not really. at least what i feel for him is anything but friendly. of course i’ve had my worries about how it might affect the friendship, but he’s my life. i cannot picture myself being with anybody else, ever.

hence why none of my previous relationships have worked. i compare every single one of them to him, and they just never, ever compare.

the only problem is i have no idea how he feels about me. pansy tells me, ‘that boy is completely in love with you’. but i just don’t see it. he’s always been sweet to me. i’m a shy person, he’s not. he’s protective of me, very much so. he’s confident, he’s a trouble maker, he’s gorgeous.

i get jealous when i see him talking to other girls, i’ve been heartbroken when he’s had previous girlfriends, i’ve pretended to be happy for him. no, i’m always happy for him, i want him to be happy, but i just wished it was with me.

i sigh, sitting up straighter as i realise where i am, sat in a circle with my closest friends in the common room. drinks scattered everywhere, red plastic cups messing up the room. the room a little blurry to me as my eyes glaze over from tipsiness.

theo is sat down beside me, chuckling as he watches draco do his embarrassing dare. i giggle, too, but not watching draco. watching theo’s pretty face curl into a smile as he laughs.

i swear sometimes when i look at him the world just stops, and it’s only him and i in the room together.

i’m snapped out of my daze as i hear my name being called by draco. i turn my head to him, smiling softly.

“okay pretty, your turn. truth or dare?” he asks mischeviously.

“umm… truth” i say, as i chose dare on my last turn.

“okay… have you ever been in love?” he asks, a smirk playing on his lips as he winks at me.

my cheeks flush pink. “u-uh, yeah”

“really?? with who? you’ve only had two boyfriends!!” eno exclaims. i nod.

“doesn’t mean it was a boyfriend of mine.” i say quietly, blushing more as i grab my drink.

“well- tell us who?” theo says from beside me, eyes wide and cheeks a little red.

“no! my turn is over, someone else’s go now” i mumble, taking a sip of my drink.

“yeah nott, it’s your turn now” blaise smirks, “truth or dare?”

“dare” he answers confidently, winking at me. i go even more red. god. the things this guy does to me without even knowing. i’m certain everybody else knows how i feel, i fear im being way too obvious.

“i dare you.. to choose a girl from this circle to spend 7 minutes in heaven with.” blaise spoke as he smirked. my heart almost stops.

oh god. what if he picks pansy? or astoria? and i have to watch this happen? what if he comes out with their lipstick all over his mouth and- oh god i could throw up.

“y/n.” i hear him say bluntly.

i almost choke on the air. “w-what?” i say, utterly confused.

“i choose you. cmon” he says, standing up and grabbing my hand. i gulp, standing up with him.

“a-are you sure? you don’t have to do this if you really, really don’t want to” i mutter along as he pulls me to the small closet, shutting the door behind us.

“be quiet, of course i want to do this. you think i want to be in a closet with any of those girls?” he fake gags. i giggle.

“be nice” i mumble.

“i thought the easiest option would be for us to just hide in here for a minute” he explains, and the excitement and nerves dissapear from me.

“oh… i see” i say, smiling softly as i try to hide my disappointment. i guess part of me was hoping he wanted to be in here with me for yknow, that reason.

he leans back against the shelves, the warm light peeking through the small gap in the doorway, lighting up his pretty face. i gulp, noticing the close proximity.

“what do you mean, ‘oh… i see’” he mimics me, wearing a raised eyebrow with a smirk.

“nothing.. was just…. agreeing with you” i whisper.

“oh.. oh. you wanted me to drag you in here and kiss you huh?” he smirks, standing up and stepping a little closer to me. my entire face heats up.

“w- no!!!” i exclaim.

“don’t lie, you wanted me to kiss those pretty lips of yours?” he says with a teasing tone.

“stop” i pout.

“aw, your face is all warm. do i make you blush?” he says as the back of his hand brushes my cheek. oh god i might die.

“shush” i whisper.

“just teasing you, bella.” he says, leaning back against the shelf. “unless… unless you liked it?” he prods.

“uh..” i mumble.

“five minutes left!!” i hear pansy yell from outside.

i gulp.

“did you?” he says, eyes softening as he looks at me.

“i don’t know… maybe a little” i say shyly.

“i can’t see you, god i wish i could see you right now. swap with me” he says softly, holding my hips as we switch places, the door illuminating my face now.

“that’s better. you look pretty with your face all flustered. now tell me, did you like it?” he says, his confidence really shining through right now.

“okay fine yes, i did, a little i guess” i mumble out, looking up at him.

“hmm” he says, chuckling a little. “i knew it”

“shuttup” i groan.

“it’s okay… i like you too” he says, seemingly getting a little nervous himself.

“i-i didn’t say i liked you, i said i liked it.” i mutter.

he goes silent for a minute, jokes calming down as the air gets a little thick, the tension growing.

“do you.. yknow, like me?” he whispers.

“uh-” im cut off as the door swings open, pansy standing there with a smirk.

“times up lovebirds”.

theo looks at me, a little desperate looking as we both leave the closet, sitting back down with our friends. i put my hand on the floor, leaning to the side a little as i catch my breath and try to steady my nerves. he sits back down beside me, sitting the same as i am, putting his pinky finger over mine.

i look at him, a small smile on my face as he returns the same.

“okay- enzo, your turn!” pansy says, clapping her hands as she comes up with a devious dare for him.

i try to pay attention to the group but all i can focus on is what the heck happened ten minutes ago in the closet. does he like me back? his pinky is still hooked onto mine. i never got the chance to tell him i liked him. i spiral for another five minutes until i notice everybody standing up.

“huh? where we going?” i say confused.

“late night dip in the black lake, silly. come get ur bikini on under your clothes” pansy says, grabbing my hand and yanking me away to our shared room.

“you need to tell me what happened in there” she shreeks, being the only person who knows about my feelings.

“shhh. they’re only down the hall” i whisper yell. “to be honest i don’t know what happened. he started getting all flirty with me, told me he was just teasing me- but then things got all tense and serious and he asked me if i liked him!” i whisper, panicking.

“i knew it! he clearly likes you back oh my god this is so exciting” pansy paces the room happily as she changes into her bikini.

i grab a plain black one, tying my hair in a side braid as i put mine on, putting my clothes on over the top.

“so i don’t know, he almost kissed me, pansy. almost!!” i sigh.

“then let’s get going, because a romantic swim together in the lake is going to be the best thing for you guys right now. we’ll give you privacy, don’t worry” she winks, holding my hand as we meet he guys outside of the room, all of us walking down to the lake.

like hooligans, they strip down into their shorts and cannonball into the lake. i frown,

“is it really cold?” i yell out to theo.

“its warm!! its summer, bella. hop in” he says swimming closer to me.

i sigh, pulling my clothes off nervously as theo watches, a light blush on his cheeks and a cheeky smile. i throw my wand down beside my clothes, before sitting on the edge of the wooden board beside the lake.

“you gotta jump in!!” pansy says, launching herself into the lake and pretty much on top of draco. i giggle as i watch her. i look at theo.

“i’m not a great swimmer” i whisper, shyly. “you know this”

“that’s why i’m here, i got you. don’t worry” he says, holding his hands out, putting them onto my waist as i scooch into the lake, and his his arms. i squeak a little.

“it is cold!!” i shiver.

“you’ll adjust to it, come on, show me that little paddle of yours” he chuckles, letting go of me and swimming backwards a metre or so.

he’s always made fun of me for this. i can’t swim, traditionally per say, more so like a dog. i kind of wiggle my hands and feet and just hope for the best.

i manage to make it to him, gripping onto his shoulders again.

“you gotta stop making fun of me for that.” i pout.

“never. it’s the cutest thing.” he says softly.

i smile at him, as all of our friends swim over and break us two up. so much for privacy.

i hold onto the wooden plank on the side of the lake, watching as they mess around and dunk each other. i notice pansy whisper something to theo, to which he returns a nod. i furrow my eyebrows.

pansy comes over to me. “i’ll challenge the boys to a lap down to the other wooden plank. you stay here with theo. you need to tell him how you feel. or let him tell you” she winks, swimming backwards and taking the boys with her.

i push myself off of the wood and closer to theo. i kind of manage to float for a second, before he grabs my hips and pulls me into him.

“i got you” he mutters.

i look at him, the moon illuminating his face, just like the light from the door did earlier. but this is better. he looks so pretty.

“you’re beautiful” he breathes out, eyes locked onto mine.

“theo… i-” i stop myself, getting nervous again.

“don’t worry, i know” he mumbles, putting his hand on my cheek, thumb brushing off a splash of water.

“you know?” i whisper.

he nods.

it goes quiet for a moment, both of us just looking into each others eyes. i notice him get a little closer, before he goes for it.

he leans in, attaching his lips onto mine before i can even acknowledge. i hum a little from surprise, but soon i sink into it. it just feels right. my hands wrap around his neck; his gripping my hips as my legs wrap around his hips.

his tongue brushes my bottom lip as the kiss deepens, a little moan erupting from me as we both get a little more desperate.

his hands snake further down my hips. “t-theo” i whisper against his lips. “they’re coming back”

he pulls back, a little love struck and lips a little red and swollen from the kisses.

“god, i love you” he whispers, kissing my lips for a moment again.

“i-i love you too” i whisper back, heart erupting in happiness as finally it’s out there.

“oh, bella. finally” he whispers. “i wanted to kiss you in the closet earlier, but we didn’t have enough time.” he mumbles.

“i know, it’s okay, this is perfect” i whisper back, my cheeks all flushed as the water suddenly seems to be cooling me down.

his hands rub all over my body, our heads only visibly to our friends who are messing around a little further down the lake.

“i wanna go back inside” he whispers. “i just want to spend the night with you”.

“me too, teddy. i’m sure we could.. sneak away?” i whisper.

“mhm. sounds good baby” he says, sneaking a little kiss into my lips. i giggle, watching him hop onto the wooden plank, hair a little wet and the water dripping down his abs. i have to tear my eyes away from him, gulping as he smirks at me.

''you like what you see, hm?'' he winks.

''shush, help me'' i say, holding my arms up as he picks me up.

''mm, look at you'' he grins, wrapping his arms around my waist. i hear whistling and cheering from behind us, my face goes red as i cover it with my hands.

''ignore them, let's go'' he whispers, smirking as we rush back inside.

''have a good night love birds!'' pansy shouts after us.

and let's just say, we had a... good night. :)).

[a-certain-romance]

Can’t Help Falling

Characters/Ships: gn!reader x Yae Miko, Lisa, and Jean (separate). Pre-relationship for Miko’s part

A/N: Sorry to have kept this ask in the dark for so long D: the fluff was super fun to write!!

“You are like a walking fire hazard”

You wince at her harsh comparison, though she does have a point. The Narukami shrine is just so tall and steep, you can’t help but trip every now and then walking to and fro. Not that it’s much different when you’re on flat ground.

“You have a perfectly shaped fox tree yet you can’t have the trail be paved?,” you argue, right before you lose your footing and slip. Miko’s reflexes were fast enough to catch you at the very last second before you could tumble to the ground. Her arms circled your waist as if she were dipping you in the final moments of a couples dance.

“Oh now this feels familiar,” She taunts. “Are you intentionally using light novel tropes against me to gain my attention?” Her eyebrow raises, and you begin to feel smaller under her gaze. “You really don’t need to try that hard” she tsks before setting you back on your feet.

You awkwardly apologize before standing up straighter. “It won’t happen again.” She only hums in response, walking past you. “Come along now,” she beckons with a swish of her tail, “it’s going to take more than a simple cliché to win me over.”

“Oh hi cutie~”

Lisa’s lazy smile brightens at your entrance into the library. She’s sitting at a table with Razor across from her, books and loose papers spread out in nearly placed sections.

“Razor, don’t you want to say hi?” She asks. Razor remains seated on his side of the table. “They have bad luck, like Bennett.” He says bluntly, but nods anyways.

Lisa snorts, and your face flushes in embarrassment. “I’ll come find you when we’re done.” She turns back to Razor, a fond smile playing at her lips now that she knows you’re close by.

Unlike your other visits to browse the isles or talk with Lisa, you were on a mission. You needed a book. One that of course you realized was sitting on one of the top shelves— taller than you could ever reach. Maybe Razor’s comment held some truth. Deciding you didn’t want to interrupt Lisa’s one-on-one time with the wolf boy, you set a nearby ladder against the shelf and began to climb.

“I’m all finished with Razor if you still wanted to chat—“ her voice catches you off guard and you quickly lost your balance. The ladder falls and you go with it. But instead of hitting the hard flooring, you fall into something much softer. A sigh of relief escapes your lips but it’s quickly replaced by a loud yelp.

An electro shock runs through your body that only Lisa’s narrowed eyes can explain. “Darling, if you need my help please just tell me. I’m here for you, all you need to do is ask.” She ruffles your hair fondly. “Let me move this ladder and then we can have our regular tea break, okay?”

“Jean, I think you should carry the basket.”

A picnic at Windrise was just what you both needed. You were always one to encourage Jean to take more days off, and a nice lunch in nature was the most idealistic experience you could think of. But in retrospect, the idea seemed much better in your head. You’ve already lost count of how many times you stopped yourself from falling down to the grassy terrain.

Next to you Jean laughs and stops to hold out her hand; you grasp it and she leads you up to the base of the large tree. “I think you’re more than capable of carrying this basket dear. But if you insist,” she takes the basket from your hand and guides you over the roots. With her by your side you had faith that your clumsiness would not win out this time.

That is until your foot caught on a root, sending you into her arms as the picnic basket drops to the ground.

“Please be careful around here. One wrong move and you’ll wind up with a twisted ankle.“ Her face carries some worry as she sets you back on your feet.

“You caught me and dropped the basket?” You ask, a small chuckle escaping your lips. She shakes her head, “I’ll always be the one to save you.”

“My knight in shining armor~”

[lapis-lights]

04 | I Love You For Infinity

'Falling From Grace' Series Finale

[Vendetta!Leon Kennedy x Reader]

Song Title: Infinity by Jaymes Young

Content Warnings: Near death, Lots of gun violence, Experimental Stuff, They finally get to be happy :D

Word Count: 13.9k

Author's Notes: Here we are at the finale :') I really really hoped you guys liked this series as I spent such a long time on it. I know some things were out of character but hey! We live and we learn, yeah?

I'm working on drafting up potential ideas and blurbs for the next big story project so I hope you guys will stick around for that :D

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

Series Masterlist

Ao3

Summary: You and Leon have finally found common ground as you take your final stand against the J.I.E., but not everything comes up roses. Though, no matter what, Leon's hand is in yours and it was something you would face...together.

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

'Cause you're the reason I believe in fate, you're my paradise. And I'll do anything to be your love or be your sacrifice. 'Cause I love you for infinity....

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

The next days are spent meticulously losing yourselves in the files you’d recovered from the J.I.E lab but also losing yourselves in each other. 

A switch had flipped in the atmosphere between you two and the abrupt shift from avoiding Leon to not being able to stand being away from him for more than a few minutes was enough to give you emotional whiplash. 

There are nights where he takes it nice and slow, worshiping your body and rolling his hips deeply into you just to watch your face contorted in pleasure. There are times he fucks you so desperately that all you can do is hold on for dear life and let him do all the work. There are days where you tug each other away from papers and reports and bioweapons to relax, offering up the suggestion of stress release that usually ends with one of you blissed out while the other takes gentle care of them. 

Sometimes Leon will go on errand runs that leave you regrettably on your lonesome, until he returns and catches you by surprise. You don't even get a chance to greet him at the door before his head is between your thighs, licking hotly into your core eagerly while you mewl helplessly above him. You're sure housekeeping is frustrated with your constant requests to change the sheets daily. 

It's not just sex, though. There are times you doubt that this is as permanent as he promises. There are moments where you stare listlessly and wonder when Leon will realize that you're not what he wants before leaving you in a cold bed one morning. While it never happens, he's always quick to soothe those fears with a gentle kiss and an offer to make cups of coffee for the both of you. Never does he berate you for thinking so sillily as your past partners had done, but rather he listens and quiets those thoughts with a tender press of his lips to the back of your hand. 

You're hopelessly in love with him, it's not even funny. You try and give back tenfold of everything he does for you, holding him during restless nights and staying up as late as you can when he can't find the strength to go to sleep. 

One night, you had read to him, voice laced with sleepiness but persisting nonetheless because you wanted to help him. Leon's head rested against your chest, reading along with you but not really doing but more than staring at patterned ink on the page. In reality, he would later tell you he was simply listening to your voice.

"Death is of happenstance, when we ebb and fade from the minds of others long after our indestructible destruction. We live and die in memories," you read sleepily, having selected a random book from off one of the shelves in the room. "The bittersweet taste of your absence on my tongue is nothing compared to the confectionary hope that you will be in my arms upon reunion."

Leon makes a noise of recognition, moving to look up at you. "I like that."

"Yeah? Do you read much?"

“Nope,” he says candidly and rolls so that his nose is buried in the slope of where your neck connects to your shoulders. One of your hands keeps a hold on the book as the other starts running mindlessly through his hair. “Love it when you do, though, sweet thing.”

That’s the other thing: his nicknames. Leon’s oddly obsessed with calling you anything sweet–sweet girl, sweet thing, sweetheart…While he does use others, those types happen to be the most common occurrence. They never make you fail to feel giddy, something like a schoolgirl finally getting the popular boy to look her way. Only for you, he seems to be just as obsessed as you are.

Admittedly, Leon's said he prefers you saying his name just because he likes the way it sounds alone, but you don’t pass up the chance to give him nicknames of your own. 

Things don't always go smoothly, though.

There are times you shy away from him, unfamiliar with his efforts. Times you question if what he promises is really true and try to not flinch away every time he reaches for you. Leon never hurts a hair on your head and while you know this, old habits do tend to die hard.

It's one night when it's raining lightly that Leon pulls you away from your analysis on one of the J.I.E.'s version of regenerators that the Los Illuminados cult created. You go whiningly, complaining that he was being too needy but secretly exhausted in a way that was probably all too easy for him to spot. 

Leon holds you in place on the bed next to him like he's afraid you'll try and run away back to the desk if he doesn't, but you don't necessarily complain since he's warm and the proximity is enough to make your heart do backflips in your ribcage. 

"You work too hard," he mumbles as the weight of the world settles into your bones. "Try and get some rest."

"Yes, dear," you mock, but kiss him all the same to let him know that you weren't truly mad. 

He makes a nice satisfactory noise, pulling you closer and kissing wherever he can reach, hands rubbing along your skin gently and leaving sparks of electricity in its wake. Just from his touch and warmth, you already feel yourself anchored down and sleep touching your eyes.

Leon lulls you, hands starting to mess and play with your hair as you allow yourself to be anchored down and down until the images fly behind your eyelids and sift through your unconscious memories.

You roll over and your face hits the sand. 

You stumble to your feet, the familiar weight and feel of a gun in your hands as the sound of helicopters roar in your ears as they fly overhead, shooting down the infected natives of the island you'd been sent to investigate. Nearly all members of the team assigned to you lie dead at your feet, crimson blood flowing in rivers from explosions, gashes, and bullet wounds. There's no time to worry about them, though. 

There's mixed screaming all around you, and aiming is second nature. A clean headshot and a well-charged kick is all it takes to take down the guy in front of you, and you swap out your handgun for a shotgun as multiple people form into a small crowd. 

You pull a grenade from your pocket, pulling the pin and throwing it into the sea of people. Stepping some paces back, you wait for the explosion before picking off the rest of those who survived the blast. It's then that your earpiece clicks and a voice comes through from your field managers back at headquarters.

"Come in, Python," they say, "according to our data, the source of the virus is right through the jungle. You need to gather whoever else is alive and head that way."

You grit your teeth, chest pricking with annoyance as you press on the earpiece and snap, "That's practically a suicide wish. We will not be doing that."

"May I remind you that you're not the director of this mission," the person on the other side snaps but their voice sounds fuzzy–muffled. "You follow whatever orders you're given and right now, you need to get to that virus."

You reload your submachine gun, and open fire. "Are you crazy?! There's only ten of us, maybe less. Who fucking knows how many are protecting the virus?"

"You signed up for this. We're expecting results."

They really were trying to work you to death.

The line cuts and you mumble a curse under your breath. A back hits yours and you glance to see one of the other team members has covered you from behind–a talented sniper who has played a role in more than a few of your successes in the past. It's a relief that she's been assigned here too and together, you mow down the bodies that are continuously shuffling and moving towards you.

There's too many coming close to her and enough that were far away from your side. You duck, twisting around her to shoot at the oncoming attacks at point blank while she props the muzzle of her rifle across your back to stabilize her aim. She takes out the ones that were a good distance away. You motion to her and together, you take off towards the heart of the island. 

"F.O.S. is insane," you grumble to her, swapping the magazines in your gun. "Sending two people for the virus."

"Better get a hell of a paycheck out of this one," she agrees. "When we get back, drinks are on me."

The two of you trek for what seems hours and time bends and warps in on itself. The next thing you know, she's not next to you anymore and nothing but the sound of nature and the wind blows through your ears. Confused, you whirl around and call out her name in hopes of a cheery response. You're met with silence and the creeping sense that something is watching.  

Your stomach drops as you aim your gun, anticipating an attack from any direction. 

Instead, a rumble is heard from far away and a flock of birds flies from the top of the canopy, squawking in distress.

A force knocks you off your feet as the island begins to undergo an earthquake. The ground sinks beneath your body as you fight to get back up, panic settling deep in your bones as your arms refuse to cooperate. You scream out for help, to see if anybody was alive left from the bloodbath on the beach, but you know the irrevocable horrible truth.

Everybody but you died that day on the island. The sniper had jumped in front of you to take a hit and sacrificed her life to give you a chance to get the virus. You had shown up at the J.I.E. with a small vial that contained a strain along with the blood of your innocence staining your hands.

The earth seems to try to swallow you whole, opening up as if to send you straight to hell. The heat is enough to burn the flesh off your bones and it feels like you're melting from the inside out. Another scream claws its way from your throat as the tears cascade down your cheeks in wet rivulets. You know you're going to die the way you should have with everybody else on that damn day. It was unfair, leaving you to be the lone survivor and the target of the trainers who worked their agents to death. 

You wait for the burn, for the fire to sear you alive when you feel that familiar touch. It's the same one that causes that controlled blaze inside of you–that melted the ice and saved you. 

It pulls you from that earthquake and right into reality, a sob escaping your lips as you scramble to upright yourself. You're sweating, eyes still leaking and your throat on fire as if you'd been shouting. Your whole body is numb and cranked to a hundred all at once, shaking like a withering leaf on an autumn day. 

Then, "Sweetheart? Are you with me?"

You flinch away, curling up before you realize who it was and what was happening. 

The bedside lamp turns on and bathes the room in a gentle yellow glow and you see Leon worriedly glancing over you, hands twitching like he didn't know if he should touch you or not. You've only had one episode before in front of him. When the night terrors bled into real life and he had woken you up then too. Back in the motel, it was nothing but awkwardness and the assumption that he didn't care whether you were suffering subconsciously or not. 

Now, things are different. They had to be. 

You sniff, trying not to look more puffy and bloated than you already do before reaching out, fingers searching for his own in a way they never have before. Leon sighs in relief, threads his hand around yours, and urges you closer. You fall against his chest and he tucks you into his body as if he could shield you from the outside world and hide away from all the distresses of your life. He doesn’t say anything–doesn’t ask for an explanation–just holds you and stays throughout the whole thing.

Once the adrenaline faded and you’re left with the exhaustion that comes after crying, Leon finally pulls away to get a good look at you. The care is more than enough to make you burst into tears, but you hold them back in favor of not sullying his shirt more than you already had.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, voice hoarse from sleep and screaming. 

“Don’t be,” he affirms, cupping your face and checking you as if making sure you weren’t hurt. “Bad dreams?”

“They usually are,” you admit and lean into his touch. Leon laughs gently when your eyes flutter shut, the warmth emission from him more comforting and grounding than anything else. 

He brushes strands of hair away from your forehead before twisting to grab the water bottle from the nightstand on his side. Leon doesn't pry into what happened–just stays with you as you drink to soothe your throat and settle down. You look at the digital numbers glowing on the clock. 

3:45.

"We should go back to sleep," you wince and fidget with the sheets beneath you but the reluctance is evident just by your body language and tone alone. "We should."

"We don't have to, baby," Leon soothes. "We can just stay up and do whatever until the sun comes up."

You don't want to return to that bloody beach–the start of many missions that would leave you in shambles and with less humanity than you started out with. It's almost laughable that once upon a time, you'd been a bright starry-eyed girl dreaming of changing the world. If you could rewind time, go back to when you were thinking of what you wanted to be when you grew up, you'd tell yourself to be an engineer or a veterinarian. 

Anything but this. 

Has Leon suffered through the same thing? How many people under him has he lost due to stupid mistakes and things that could have been prevented? You two really had to be so similar yet so different, but somehow, you'd found solace in each other.

"I got your shirt dirty," you frown, eying the dark patch that was no doubt a gross mix of your tears and maybe even snot.

He shrugs, pulling it by the hem and over his head. "Don't sweat it. I got a million more like it."

You can't help but stare at his perfectly sculpted chest that your hands have run over so many times. You can almost feel the heat of his skin beneath your palms. However, Leon's breathy chuckle pulls you out of your light fantasy. He flicks your forehead lightly, and you squeak as he rolls off the mattress.

"Quit staring, perv," he snorts, rummaging through his bag for another shirt. "My eyes are up here."

"We've literally fucked," you grumble, earning a surprised laugh from him. 

Upon getting another shirt, he disappears into the bathroom before returning with some tissues and picking up another water bottle along the way. You graciously blow your nose and clear all that gross mucus from your system. He allows you to finish off the rest of his old water bottle before tempting you back into his arms to lay back down.

You don't hesitate to get comfortable, breathing out serenely once you finally settle down. Reluctancy lies in your mind just thinking about going back to sleep and having to carry another gun or watch another person die, and Leon seems to catch on just as quickly.

"Do you want to talk about it?" He asks gently, open to a yes or no. 

Gosh, you never would have expected the grumpy guy that used to insult you freely would be this caring. If you'd known that this is how he really was, you would have cut yourself off early, though it's a miracle something like this hadn’t happened sooner.

You take a deep breath in and blow it out. "It was years ago," you begin, picking up Leon's hand and starting to trace his palm lines in an act of distracting yourself. "I was sent to an unnamed island just off of Cuba where Umbrella had set loose a virus as an experimental field run. It was my first time giving commands."

Leon hums, shifting your position so that he can rest his head on your chest, listening to your heart and your voice while you continue brushing your fingers along his skin. 

"I was sent with a fairly large team but they overestimated us. There were infected natives that we were instructed to take out, but there were so many." You close your eyes and frown. "I remember the bloodshed–the screams of anguish of all the people I couldn't save in that first fight on the beach"

"Oh, (Y/n)." 

You open your eyes and smile, albeit a little watery. "I was the only one to get on the chopper that left the island that day. Stealth became the foundation of our training from then on and I was the one who bore the brunt of it all since I was able to make it out."

Leon scowls, all dark and lips curling back into a near snarl. "So they worked you into being their perfect little soldier." 

"Like a dog." You cup his jaw and run a soothing thumb across his cheekbone. "But, I'm here now with you. That's what matters, right?"

He breathes out, regaining his sense of control and nods. "Yeah. That's what matters."

You sit there throughout the night, holding and soothing each other through touches and the occasional kiss that borders on something more if the two of you weren't tired from being woken in the early hours of the morning. Instead, you relish in the presence of him. There's many things that go unsaid, including what your relationship is labeled now, but that's a worry for another day.

The next time your face hits the sand, your eyes fly open as you find yourself in an unmarked place that you can't identify. 

No longer is the feeling of silky sheets and Leon underneath your hands, but rather the rocky grains of sand that have already begun to stick everywhere. The sky stretches with the Milky Way, white stardust streaking across a navy canvas that seems to shudder the longer you look at it. Behind you is an island, the silhouette of trees rising up like a daunting wall and tittering with the sound of nocturnal animals. Somewhere, a bird squawks. 

Water rushes up the shoreline with puffy white seafoam before receding gently and restarting the cycle all over again, but its efforts never even come close to where you were sitting. You imagine it would be cold. The sound of waves crashing calms you and on this beach, things are peaceful. It's quiet, and soft. 

There's no blood, no voices, no guilt. 

You lay back down, let the sand pillow around your head, and smile.

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

“Babe, come look at this.”

Leon perks up at your call, immediately getting up to join your side on the bed where multiple files scatter across the sheets. You’ve been drawing links between experiments for a few hours now while Leon makes sure you take a break every once in a while to clear your thoughts and make sure you aren't working yourself into a hole.

“They’ve been tampering with copying DNA strands,” you point out, reading a paragraph on the top of a page titled ‘Somatic Cell Nuclear Transfer’. “‘Multiple test subjects have been shown falling apart or melting into a pile of unidentifiable yet useless substances. Dr. Walker theorizes that this may be a result of unstable skeletons and has proposed we build the structure akin to that of a machine. However, development would take too long so for now, we must continue perfecting the process’.”

Leon’s eyebrows furrow as he takes the paper from your hands and scans over the rest of the report briefly. “They’re trying to clone something.”

Your blood turns cold. “But what? They’ve been bulk creating bioweapons so surely that would be pointless.”

“Unless it’s not a bioweapon they’re trying to replicate,” he points out. “They could be trying to create a replica of a political figure or something.”

“But how would they have the sources to pull that off? They can’t get close enough to someone with power for a DNA strand or something of the likes.”

“I don’t know anymore about that than you do, sweetheart,” Leon mumbles, focusing on the report as his chin hooks on your shoulder and rests there. “Can you think of anybody that they’d get an advantage from?”

“Nobody else that you can’t think of,” you parrot, going through every person that they’ve targeted in the past. “Mostly I’ve been sent out to intercept the progress of rivaling companies and shadowing after you for information so your guess is just as good as mine.”

“We have to go back to the lab,” he sighs, rubbing a hand down his face and tucking it into your neck. His breaths tickle your skin. “Can’t catch a fucking break.”

“On the contrary, Mr. Kennedy,” you shrug your shoulders a little so that it jostles him enough to emit a mock aggravated groan. “I think you’ve had plenty of breaks since our last breach into the lab.”

He glances up at you, a red tint glowing on his face and you would have made fun of him for it if you weren’t going through the exact same emotions as he was. 

There’s a tense moment as your thoughts align on the same page for a minute.

“Wanna make it one more?” he prods suggestively and you have to laugh now, reaching up and patting his cheek affectionately.

“As much as I’d love to, I’d rather be able to walk when we head out. You really seem to enjoy folding me like a damn pretzel.” you tease.

“Start stretching more.”

“Give me time beforehand then.”

He falls dramatically onto his back, making a pitiful little noise as if you’ve wounded him. You snort, pick up the map, and begin marking down the route the two of you had agreed on but not yet finalized. The safe rooms are already circled in blue, and the major areas to avoid are in red. The best course of action was to pull an alarm and cut through the offices to the labs that connected to the computer room, and there, you could find the information you needed.

It was risky, and there were a lot of factors to be considered before the two of you immediately dove in. 

“That’s another cause for concern on the list,” you note, “along with the other ones we’ve listed down.” 

“Perfect,” Leon retorts. “As if the all-seeing heat detecting monsters and the eyeball motherfuckers weren’t bad enough.”

Throughout your view over of the list of bioweapons they’ve created, you managed to narrow down the ones they’ve deployed as a means of defense. One attracts to that of thermal senses and another that purely uses sight as it’s only dominant means of living, which means they’re going to be your biggest problems alongside the potential undead waiting to pop out. 

It’s also possible each one of them was injected with a variant of Las Plagas to make things even more fun. Total obedience was needed for them to function as a reliable defense system, and if they went rogue, it would cause too many heavy casualties. 

“This sucks.”

Leon huffs. “You can say that again.”

“We need to settle on a date,” you tuck everything back into the binder neatly before snapping it shut. With no grace, you fall onto Leon’s chest and he grunts as his arms circle around your waist instinctively. “Do you have any ideas?”

“Sure. We could go to the movies or take a walk in the park–”

“I will sleep in the other bed tonight.”

“I’d say a week’s time.”

You laugh gently, resting your chin on his sternum. He sighs, exasperated but lovingly all the same, and in this tender moment, it’s easy for the daunting mission to fade away. The outside world doesn’t exist when you’re with him and some part of him mourns that you’ll never be able to return to this suite when everything’s said and done. 

The future is terrifying since there’s no telling what’ll happen when he has to report back to the government.

Leon had explained to you that he was able to prod his bosses for an extended vacation after his former one was rudely interrupted by their request for his aid in dealing with the situation with Arias. You have no doubts that they wouldn’t hesitate to call him back though, so it’s a miracle he’s lasted this long. He assures you there’s nothing to worry about so you try not to be too bothered by the unnatural radio silence. 

“What are you thinking of, sweet girl?” Leon asks, running a hand through your hair and beginning to gently work out the tangles that bind together some strands. 

“You.” The answer is simple yet honest. He’s always on your mind nowadays, isn’t he?

“Yeah? What about me?” He tests and you know exactly what he’s trying to instigate.

“I’m gonna have to teach you some self-control, mister,” you chide, closing your eyes and reveling in the soothing motions through your hair. “You’re worse than I am.”

"Is that a good or a bad thing?"

"Whatever you decide," you say while stretching, yawning in the midst of the afternoon glow through the suite windows. "I wanted to ask you something, though."

Leon tilts his head and begins weaving a section of your hair into a braid. "I'm listening."

"Where do you see yourself in the future?"

He pauses, his motions stuttering before resuming almost cautiously this time. "What brought this on?"

"I was wondering what your plans are when we finally can rest," you close your eyes and make a noise between contentment and hesitancy. "We can't be worked forever and that pension's gonna be fan-fucking-tastic."

"Well," Leon breathes in like he's confessing a secret–like the two of you are children whispering things into each other's ears and pinkie promising not to tell, "I'd like to move into a suburban house–maybe one with a picket fence–that's in a small no-name city. The community would be nice but know how to keep to themselves. Maybe I'll have a couple kids running around. Work never really allowed me to think about having a family."

"That sounds really nice," you say wistfully, imagining it behind your eyelids. 

"I'd like to be able to paint and alter the walls however I'd like since I can easily afford something like that," he keeps on going. "A kitchen space just big enough to cook with someone and maybe even a window where I can watch the sun. I'd like a nice, cozy bedroom that's not neat or messy so I can bury myself in bed no matter what time I come home."

He wants such an idyllic life–one that you see in movies that everyone lives vicariously through because in this society, it was practically unachievable. Would you be so willing to have such a peaceful way of living as well? You can't fight forever, but all you've known for years is blood and gunpowder and pain. Could that world be something you deserve after everything you've done? 

Leon stops, rests his hand on the back of your skull thoughtfully, and says, "...And I want you to be in it."

You open your eyes and look at him, caught off guard. "Me?"

"Who else, sweet thing?" He laughs. "I hate to break it to you, but I'm not letting you go after this."

“Stockholm Syndrome,” you hum. “Are you really sure you want me there for all that, though?”

“There’s nobody else,” Leon says seriously. “Only you.”

You breathe in, then out and focus on the heat of his touch and the weight of his words on your heart. “Okay, Leon.”

“Okay?”

“Okay. We’ll have a house together away from this all and you won’t have to worry about the monsters anymore.”

His eyes crinkle with joy when he smiles and you’ve learned what it’s like when he expresses any genuine happiness. It’s a sight to behold but surely, it’s one you would never ever forget.

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

Your heart beats in your ears harshly, finger twitching to pull the trigger on your handgun as you watch carefully for any signs of movement around the corner. 

The world around you sucks a breath in, watching and waiting for any possible movement that would trigger an event. 

Nothing but the hum of electricity can be heard, a constant drone in the background as sweat accumulates on the back of your neck and your stomach rolls nervously. Your arms shake and you're already aching for the welcoming feeling of the hotel suite. Unfortunately, things aren't that simple.

You and Leon had left early in the morning, once again, focused solely on making it out alive by the end of the day. Following the route and plan the two of you had finished up and agreed on, it wasn't hard to find and trip the fire alarm to the offices. People came rushing out–as predicted–but what you didn't expect was for the monsters to be roaming freely among the workers.

You and Leon had done the best you could, using the walls of the cubicles to hide away from the eyes of the monsters who could only see, with ugly pink bat wings and the body of a fleshy larva. It was only when the thermal searching bioweapons came in that you were positively fucked. Computers came crashing down, wires fizzing electricity and the lights overhead spark angrily as bullets were shot with desperation.

There were so many of them–so much that the rubble and the amount of monsters combined separated you and Leon.

You panic when you can't see him anymore but hope that you'll regroup soon enough, running through a doorway and barricading it with a quick glance at the room and seeing that he's nowhere you can find.

Hence your position now. You have to be careful since you're in an uncharted section of the laboratory that you didn't study in depth like you had for the rooms that you planned for. Carefully, you get up from your position and walk. The atmosphere is not helpful, and it feels like the walls have eyes. You shoot down any security cameras you see and somewhere along the way, there's a safe room. 

There's nothing but a few boxes of ammo, a dusty old typewriter, and a plant that smells suspiciously like the vials of herbs that Leon had made you take all those weeks back. The thought makes your frown as you root out the plant from its pot. 

Your time in that snowy motel seems like such a lifetime ago. It's hard to believe that just last month, you were ready to kill him on sight. Between everything that's happened and all the emotions that have purged, this story of yours seems like just the beginning. Catharsis–or something like it. Now, you're ready to have a life with your sworn enemy just because you were stupid and fell in love. 

Who knows if Leon really was playing the long game or not?

Once you've checked and reloaded all of your guns, you step out of the safe room and back into the long hallway. The door at the end leads to some kind of boiler room and the heat only makes you more inclined to collapse. However, you push forward and take in the environment. 

There's a large pod-shaped machine in the middle exhausting steam and monitoring its pressure on the side, which would be the heater. All around is a metal platform that winds up upwards with stairs at every level, and there's no telling where the top door might lead to. Instead of dwelling too hard on it, you begin climbing. 

The lack of any enemies or things to shoot lets you know that any destruction to the boiler would probably be too large of a causality so they didn't want to risk the chance of the thing exploding. You're about halfway there when the hairs on your neck stand up and your gut pangs. 

You grab your knife and parry the incoming attack. 

The woman backs away, clearly surprised that you managed to sense her despite the silent stealth she employed. It takes about two seconds to recognize who it is and your blood runs cold. Ada blinks innocently, sheathing her knife and jutting out a hip. Expertly applied make-up refuses to run even under the heat and humid steam of the boiler room and infuriatingly, you understand why Leon might've been attracted to her in the past. 

"Ada," you say, hesitantly putting away your own weapon. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"I see he's told you about me," she tuts, moving to walk past you. "All these years and he still can't let go of me."

You think she's just trying to get under your skin, and you follow her just to see what she might say. "How long have you known Leon?"

"Mm...We have a history. One I wouldn't expect someone like you to understand."

You clench your jaw, reminding yourself that if it's a fight she wants, she'll have to work harder for it. What was the point in taunting you like this? Was it because of personal feelings that she had tried to get the jump on you earlier or was it part of a mission that she was on as well?

"You know," Ada begins, climbing another flight of stairs. "He's gotten good at acting–lying. He's not as predictable as he was before."

"So?" You reply irritably, ready to get away from her. 

"So you never know," she looks up wistfully, "he might be using you for information. When this is all said and done, Leon will get his hands on the data he needs and you'll be free from your contract. The business deal will be done and you can go your separate ways."

"Is that what you really think?" 

She looks back at you, something like pity or sadness in her eyes. "Maybe. I'm just trying to warn you before you do something you might regret."

You can't say anything about that. 

The two of you continue up the stairs until you finally reach the final door at the top. Upon opening it, you sigh in relief at the cold air and turn to find Ada isn't following. She only shakes her head slightly, backing away like she's disappointed or something.

Ada takes a deep breath in like she's trying to steel herself. "You're good for him. Better than I would've ever been. Don't fuck it up."

You open your mouth to retaliate, question what she means, promise you won't–maybe say something. You don't get the chance when she swivels around and vaults over the railing of the platform falling down and disappearing. You gasp, rushing forward to see call out for her, but the words die in your throat when you realize she's nowhere to be found. 

Left confused by the brief interaction, you glance back at the open door that leads into a narrow corridor. A lone door lies on the other side of it, and you try to remember if there was anywhere that it would lead to. However, you fail to, and decide that there’s really nowhere to go but ahead. You press forward, and the door to the boiler room slams shut behind you. 

You whip around, hearing the harsh click of a lock echoing through the small space.

You yank on the handle but to no avail. The thing’s bolted tightly.

An intercom crackles overhead and that voice that had spoken to you before when you and Leon had faced off the spider audibly clears the static.

“What do we have here?” they muse. “You two had better get to the main lab with all our fun little experiments. I’ve got a surprise–and perhaps you’ll find your way back to each other eventually. Don’t keep me waiting. Oh! Try not to die on the way, will you? It’s been a while since our animals have had a good hunt so I do hope you’ll be good sports and provide some much-needed entertainment.”

The static cuts off and rapid banging erupts from above. The sounds of the ventilation stagger and a shriek emits from the ceiling. You swap out your handgun for your reliable shotgun, making a beeline for the exit at the end of the corridor just as the door to the vent crashes down and you hit the floor to dodge the tentacle that comes flying at your head. 

You get a good look at what you’re up against–a pile of wet flesh that has eyes embedded into it like gems encrusted on a globe. Multiple limbs stretch outward from the main hub, wriggling hair-like tendrils spreading across the floor towards you rapidly. You get to your feet, breath coming out in ragged gasps. Your hands pump your shotgun and aim. When the hit lands, the thing screeches and puss explodes outward from its body. 

Being in such a confined space barely provides any advantages for you, and coupled with the fact that the mass of the bioweapon nearly takes up the entire corridor along with the lack of any environmental resources, it’s up to your combative prowess to get out of this one.

You grab an incendiary grenade and pull the pin. The fire is quick to make work of the thin tendrils on the floor and you sever the tentacle inching towards you from the side. You’re not quick enough to pivot around. A limb bashes into your torso and sends you flying, your ribs pulsating in pain as you slam on the ground. The concrete scratches your knees as you get up shakily, and you see your shotgun has landed a few feet away.

Upon not seeing you dead, the monster screams and focuses all of its efforts into trying to kill you. 

“Goddamnit,” you curse. “This isn’t good.”

You evade an oncoming attack, crying out when one tentacle wraps around your ankle and yanks. You fall on your back with a harsh thud and it begins dragging you towards the center where the monster opens up to reveal a mouth full of lines of rotating teeth. Your heartbeat pounds in your ears as you pull your knife and hack away at the restraint on your leg. The grip tightens enough so that you can feel the monster trying to crush your tibia and fibula together.

You have enough of it, dangerously close to the heated saliva of the bioweapon’s mouth. You stab your knife into the tentacle, and it splits  apart with a gush of hot blood. The shriek that emits from the mouth is enough to make your ears ring, but there’s no time to think about that now. 

Swapping out your submachine gun, you roll to your feet and begin targeting the spots where the tentacles source from. When they explode, the smell is so horrendous that you have to take the time to gag before reloading and letting the bullets do all the work. 

“You need a bath, buddy,” you mumble under your breath, wrinkling your nose in disgust. “Fuckin–this is what being an irresponsible pet owner does to a bitch.”

You sidestep another swipe and work on getting rid of the last few joints. Blood pours down the main body of the bioweapon and stains the floor beneath it, and as the last tentacle has been disarmed and popped, all that’s left is the main hub. 

It’s really unfortunate that you assumed it would be easy, but as the mouth closes suddenly, gurgles, then hurls a ball of acidic saliva at you, it proves that it won’t be as simple as you had hoped. 

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

The saliva leaves a burn bark in the ground and you know that it would be hot enough to melt the flesh right off your bones. You duck and roll, barely managing to avoid another shot for your head.

“I thought I wouldn’t have to play dodgeball after PE in highschool,” you groan, trading out your submachine gun for your hard hitting reliable magnum. “Alright, I’ve had enough of your bullshit.”

The next time the mouth opens up, you can see the glowing heart of the monster beating behind a thin wall of translucent flesh just at the back of its throat. You only get a few sections to work out a plan before it spits at you again, you use the time to jump out of the way before firing a couple of shots right into the heart. 

It shrieks but persists and you take the period after the next attack to reload your magnum as fast as you can. Fingers dance quickly as you push every bullet into a designated hole in the round, aiming, and emptying all of it into the heart as quickly as you can. Just to be safe, you take a hand grenade and launch it into the still-open mouth,

The monster seems to swallow it, trying to prepare another acid attack, but it doesn’t get the chance. You duck, shielding your head as the grenade detonates and erupts. Guts and eyeballs go flying everywhere, and blood spatters across your clothes and skin. The monster finally rolls over limply and stays down this time as you finally stand to breathe in gulps of air.

It feels like you’ve just run a marathon, and your ribs ache from when you had been thrown across the corridor, but at the best, it might have been bruised. It doesn’t feel like they’ve been broken at least, which really was the only positive side to this whole thing. The bad part is the fact that this gives you a taste of just what the J.I.E. had been working on this entire time, and that didn’t bode well if they managed to get farther along than what you just encountered.

You pick up your discarded shotgun and find you’d only been two bullets away from being empty. You’ll have to manage your inventory better the next time. Taking the time to reload everything and check through your belongings, you observe the cuts and scratches you obtained during the fight. It doesn’t seem too bad, all things considered, and you decide to wait on trying to eat the mysterious herb you had picked up before.

The lock clicks again and you try the door again to find that this time, it unlocks easily. 

On the other side, you find a more open space. The room holds large test tubes that line along the far left wall with bodies of people floating inside of them, and tubes connect to various points on their limbs. On the right are monitors that track the progression of every corresponding subject and you go to the nearest one.

You walk slowly, realizing that every one of them were incredibly similar in terms of appearance. They hold the same face shape, the same nose, the same skin color. There’s only minor differences between each of them like the curve of the upper lip not matching or the varying heights by a couple of inches, but in general, they remain fairly similar.

You travel to the other side of the room and work one of the monitors that list it’s for test subject number six. There were a few tabs you were able to access, including the general review of the experiment as a whole. The computer screen casts blue light as the report loads and your stomach drops upon seeing the title. 

"The (L/n) Project - Molecular Cloning Process

Two weeks since Agent (L/n) escaped the facility. She has left behind all devices and managed to disarm the tracking chips installed within her weapons. We suspect that the tracker we injected into her has been damaged as well–Mr. Williams theorizes it must have occurred during her fight with T-X108 and therefore, had rendered us unable to pin down her exact location. The search parties sent out have not managed to find her.

However, she has allowed us to go forth with the cloning process. Her rebellion had greenlighted the project, appropriately named The (L/n) Project as we try to replicate her favorable traits and create a bioweapon capable of her abilities and more. 

This project utilizes a mix of the T-Virus as well as the Las Plagas parasite to ensure total and absolute control over the subject. Many defects have been formed due to the incompatibility between the mix of the virus and plagas, however, Dr. Stills remains optimistic and claims that we need only to find the right combination. Our last resort only banks on the chance that (L/n) will return and will ensure her capture and re-initiation. 

Should we apprehend her within the lab, she will immediately be injected with a plagas egg. From then on, she will be kept in confinement until the parasite reaches full maturity. 

Until that time comes, we will continue the cloning process in hopes of favorable outcomes. We have already gotten this far. All it needs is time."

The files about the J.I.E. dabbling in cloning flash through your head, and your stomach jumps into your throat. You return back to the test tubes and swallow harshly, now seeing that those are your features being reflected back at you through the glass. Those things are supposed to be replicas of you–formations that they took of your DNA strands and molded into your image in hopes of replicating your performance on the battlefield but better. 

They've had plenty of chances at getting your DNA through blood work and any hairs you might have misplaced or left behind. Think about it, you had willingly provided them all the resources to your genetic code on a silver platter simply because you believed you were working for the greater good.

You back away, shaking nervously as terror fills your system. You need to find Leon and you need to do it now.

You start running, stumbling out of the room into one much larger. It's like a factory, walls whitewashed and outlined in varying glass containers that hold a multitude of different bioweapon shrieking and clawing to get out. In the center is a control board that seems to operate a giant claw. Whatever this shit is, it meant no good. 

A door flies open ahead and you gasp, looking up to see none other than Leon stumble through. You're about to call out to him until you see him hold the door just in time for somebody else to follow after. A woman, it looks like, and your chest boils with something sharp. She's not wearing the same red get up Ada had been in, so she must be somebody new. At least, you hope that's the case.

You back away, watching as they head down the stairs together and go straight for the control panel. Before one of them can touch anything, you come out, gun securely held as you nervously shout out to him. 

"Leon?" 

He whirls around immediately, but instead of his expression twisting into relief like you thought it would, it morphs into one of confusion. His features set into harsh stone as he loads his gun and aims it at you.

You stop in your steps toward him, slowly putting your own weapon back into its holster and putting your hands up in a surrendering position. Wondering why he would turn the gun on you now if all times, you think with a pang that this is where he might betray you and has alerted an accomplice to aid him in this final stretch of the mission. 

This is soon cleared when the person walks out from behind him and you find you staring at yourself. 

"Leon," the fake you says, all nervous and matching your pitch perfectly. "This must be what they were talking about–with the cloning."

A bitter taste fills your mouth, insulted that this copycat would even have the audacity. "You would know since you're one of them," you snap, turning your attention to him. "Please, you've got to believe me–you've been traveling with a clone."

"Stop trying to manipulate him!" The clone's eyes shine with fake tears and you scowl. 

Leon hesitates, strung between two identical people and you can't believe they somehow created the perfect replica. How they even managed it is beyond you, but what matters is that there was a chance Leon could accidentally kill you without knowing it until it was too late. How could he handle it if his intuition is the very thing that had kept you alive and killed you all at once?

“Don’t fall for it,” the clone frowns, forehead wrinkling just in the same way yours did when you were determined about something. "She's just trying to trick you so we'll get separated again."

"You're one to talk," you seethe, knowing that losing your temper right now was akin to fighting a losing battle.

"Leon," she croons, circling around to look him in the eyes earnestly, "don't you remember all those nights we spent together? How free it felt to finally love me openly after all this time?"

He softens but only slightly, the grip on his gun loosens as he hears her recount the events of something so recent. 

"I've loved you for so long and didn't even know it," she says, so open and vulnerable like a mirror to your own emotions. It was eerie and creepy in a way you loathed, unsettling just how it was to see a reflection of yourself sweet talking the man you love. "Shall I tell you when I first admitted that I love you so that I can prove it really is me?"

She doesn't even wait for an answer before she's leaning in and whispering in his ear. Whatever she says, it must be something wild judging by the way his face flushes so violently crimson. Usually, it's you doing all that work, knowing what subjects will make his face burn in such a way that it's nearly impossible not to cradle it just to feel the heat beneath your palms. However, it's not you this time, and the fact makes you want to throw up and gag at the sight of it.

When the clone leans away, she scrutinizes his face before letting her expression fall. "You still don't believe me fully."

"I can't make a mistake."

"Then ask us a question," the clone suggests suddenly, matching your tone and body language down to a T as if you really just had a bright idea. "One only the real (Y/n) would know."

Leon's eyes turn focused, looking between the two of you trapped in front of him in similar stances. Really, what could he ask that the clone wouldn't know? She had apparently inherited all of your memories–all of the time you spent in the motel leading up to this second had been meticulously recorded. 

"When did we first meet?" He finally asks. "When did we really first meet?"

"Operation Counterpoint," the clone says immediately as if this were some twisted game show. "You caught me on an espionage mission gaining intel on Umbrella through your own mission. You almost killed me that day."

Leon looks at you and the raw emotion in his eyes as he waits for your answer makes you falter. You always knew him better than anybody–knew the things that made him tick and do the things he did better than you know your own quirks. You hope that intuition doesn't fail you now, needing it more than ever in this bizarre situation. Leon asked a simple question, but something underlined it. He was looking for something else–something more.

You understand what he's asking and you duck your head.

"When you saw my scars," you say quietly and nothing but the hum of electricity could be heard like the atmosphere had sucked in a breath and was holding it. "When you found out what the J.I.E. had been doing to me–how they were hurting me, that's…that's when we met. When we really first met."

Leon pivots and shoots the clone in the head, the throat, then the heart and as she falls to the floor, he reaches for you.

You sag in relief as you let yourself fall into his arms. The tension drains from your body as you find yourself in the clear once again. Leon–your rival, mortal enemy, and savior–pulls you to his chest in a real hug that you melt into. You haven't felt the warmth of an embrace from anyone but yourself in years before him–didn't allow yourself to. You suspect that he's just the same, or perhaps even more, starved of the touch than you were

His arms wrap across your back, pulling you right into the space that has become reserved for you against his body. His hold on you is so firm that it would take an army just to get him to release you from his sweet embrace. To be fair, you're not keen on leaving it anytime soon.

"Oh, sweet girl," he mumbles against your hair, grip tightening as if he'd rather die than let you go. "Angel, is it you? Tell me, please–please."

"It's me," you reassure as genuinely as you can. "Leon, you did good–you did so good. Thank you, oh my god."

The tension from the situation dissipates as you relish in the feeling of being alive and well. You can feel him shaking and you pull away only slightly just to get a good look at his face. Leon never cries even though he's seen a fair share of your tears and you've seen the nightmares that plague him every time his insomnia lets up and allows him to sleep. Now, you see that familiar well of hot saltwater welling beneath his eyelids and your heart hurts for what confliction he must have gone through while making his choice. 

You wipe them away before they even have the chance to make a track down your cheeks and his forehead presses onto yours desperately. 

“Leon, we have to keep going,” you prod, however just as reluctant to let him go. “We have to make it out of here together, okay?”

He lingers stubbornly and you think you might have to walk with him wrapped around you but he manages to pull away all the same and nods. You know he’s back with you now on a level head and that things were very possibly going to be okay again. You’ll live to see the day, and that was a true promise that passed wordlessly between the two of you.

Together, you approach the control panel and begin operating the system to tell you what has been happening.

Every single creature on the wall is registered to a number and every one contains at least one or more virus or parasite. Some of them mix together the T-virus and Las Plagas, even going as far to see if the plagas and Uroboros could be compatible somehow. The creatures maintain some sort of semblance of what they once were, ranging from rats to dogs to humans. 

This is more fucked up than you could ever have imagined. While the binder you had gotten had prepared you somewhat, even then, they only had one page of review and. This was the whole report, elaborately written for each of the bioweapons they had been creating.

“What the fuck could they be doing this for?” Leon mumbles angrily under his breath as he sifts through file after file.

“They wanted to take the bioweapon war to Umbrella,” you reply, nudging aside his hands so you can pull up the command prompt for the system. “With enough power, they could take down the pharmaceutical company and be revered as heroes for the anti-terrorism.”

“But the government would’ve shut them down the same way they did Umbrella.”

“Not quite.”

You enter in the string that brings up an overview of the J.I.E.’s plans, letting Leon read through it as you pull out an external hard drive to plug into the USB port hidden discreetly away from the open. Beginning to copy the information that was showing on screen, Leon sighs and catches your attention. 

“They’re gearing towards the favor of the public,” he realizes and you nod. “And this whole plan is why…”

“Why I left, yes.” You select all of the creature reports and start uploading them on the drive while talking. “They think that bringing a whole entire war to the companies is the only way to deal with them–they don’t think about civilians or people or the moral justice of those who do wrong. They want the advantage, which makes them no fucking better than Umbrella or Tricell or anybody else.”

“Who’s behind all of this? Do you know?”

You take a deep breath, trying not to think about what names or relations meant to you–especially higher ups who didn’t know how to keep their nose out of other people’s business. “Mr. Williams is the head of the J.I.E.–the one who made the company and announced its making under the false pretenses of making the world a better place. He built it on the trust of those who witnessed him jailing a couple criminals until he successfully apprehended an Umbrella team member. He was revered, and the J.I.E. received a lot of funds for his deed.”

“But?”

“But he’s been disillusioned ever since.” You look up at him seriously, taking his hand and clasping it between your palms. “Leon, promise me that if he manages to make an appearance, we run. He’s charismatic and knows how to get underneath your skin–you won’t get anything out of talking to him.”

“You’re sure about this?” he asks, squeezing your hand back gently.

“One hundred percent.”

Leon nods, trusting you. “Then we’ll run.”

The next moments are spent analyzing the creatures in the glass cases. You can see the wriggling parasites beneath the bronze flesh of some of the animals, stretching from Las Plagas to Uroboros to other possible variations. The animals with viruses don't have any wriggling tendrils but they do still snarl and rot from the inside out. It's disturbing, knowing that this was all right under your nose while you'd been willingly working for the J.I.E. 

When the hard drive is finished uploading the reports, you navigate away from the experiments and instead turn your focus onto the U.S. government. Leon makes a noise of confusion upon seeing you type in the buzzwords, but is effectively silenced when you open a file that introduces the world of hacking. There were so many files about getting through firewalls and securities that it's almost impossible to believe that they kept track of all of it. 

"This is how they're bypassing the protections the government has been putting up," you tell him, cutting and pasting all of the files. "With this, you can fortify it."

Leon doesn't say anything, just simply pulls you closer by the wait and kisses the crown of your head. You can't tell what he's thinking right now, but if anything, you're glad you can help him. He looks like he has something on his mind and you almost ask what he's thinking about, but instead resign to let him have his moment instead.

When you have all the information you need and have stopped needing to upload things to the hard drive, you unplug it and tug it into your bag. Together, the two of you start making your way to one of the exits you theorized. Sure, you might not be able to find the entrance you came through by means of the dressing room but at the very least, you could find a way out.

There's a dizzying amount of doors to get through and everything seems to be going fine. Nobody's come for your head yet and there's no monsters that have fallen from the ceiling looking for blood just yet. 

It's only when you make your way to one of the first floors that a strange clicking sound is heard and you and Leon halt to pull out your guns. It's reflectively dark so you have to click on a flashlight just to be able to see a small portion around you. The mysterious noise seems to be coming from ahead behind a crate of boxes and since there's no telling what it might be, the two of you proceed with caution.

Your footsteps are light, breaths even lighter. You monitor yourself in the way a doctor might, and the adrenaline already begins building. You approach the crate, lift your leg, and kick it in.

When the boards crumble, a shriek is heard, and you barely manage to dodge and roll out of the way of the humanoid that lunges for you. The figure screams, dressed in rags and streaked with dirt. One good look at it makes your heart twist harshly upon recognizing it: it's one of the failed clones, evident by the way her cheek is rotted away to show the inner workings of her mouth and her eyes are a stained color that vaguely reflects yours. Larvae wriggle within her gums and she stumbles to her feet, groaning incoherently as she sets her sights on you. 

"The fuck?" Leon hisses. "What is that thing?"

"It's one of the failed clones," you provide, aiming your gun again. "C'mon, let's get this over with."

You shoot the clone in the eye, blood spattering outward from the socket. She feels back with a mangled noise, clutching the wound as Leon takes his chance. He approaches rapidly, plants his foot, and roundhouse kicks the clone into the wall hard enough that her neck completely snaps from the impact. 

You whistle lowly. Showoff. 

"Overkill," you tut, shining the flashlight over the dismembered body that refuses to move even when you prod it with the toe of your boot. "It's probably safe to assume they've got a million more of these just lying around so let's proceed with caution, shall we?"

"Roger that."

The two of you press forward, coming across more defects that are bursting through the seams with incompatible parasites. Some explode outward with grotesque flesh and wriggling limbs that you have to shoot down while others seek to take a bite from your neck. Leon covers your back and you watch out for his, and together, you fight your way through the failed mirrors of yourself. 

You come upon a main lab that's circular in shape, guns held defensively and on high alert. It's strangely silent considering you'd just come from a room full of monsters and shrieking clones with skin melting off their bodies. 

You walk forward, finding a circular platform in the middle set up like a stage and metal stairs line around the whole thing. You're about to turn around to ask Leon what he thinks this room could be used for but you're suddenly grabbed from behind. A scream leaves your throat as you thrash, and Leon shouts your name. The cold barrel on a gun presses to your temple and an arm clasps around your neck as a sleazy yet familiar voice spits in your ear. 

"I suggest you stop struggling or I'll kill you right fucking now."

You stop, but choke upon seeing Leon being apprehended by a bunch of soldiers dressed in gear marked with the J.I.E. logo. He's strong, but certainly not enough to break from them as they pull and hold his hands behind his back. 

"Please," you whisper, barely able to breathe from the grip that's across your throat. "Don't hurt him."

"You know I don't run things like that," Williams snears. "Especially from dogs like you. You just couldn't sit still and be obedient, could you (L/n)?"

You scowl, fighting against him to breathe in before he shuts off your airways again. "You know I'd rather die than lick the boots of some greaseball who thinks he's some big head honcho hotshot."

"You never know when to fucking shut up, do you?!" The gun presses harsher to your temple and you squeeze your eyes shut. "Drop your weapons and this will all go a lot smoother."

This situation seems too against you, too harsh. Maybe you should comply for now, give them the ultimatum of taking you and sparing his life. You'd do it without question, but who's to say they won't kill you before he can make it back to you? You drop everything from your bag to your guns to your knife, and completely give up. Upon feeling you give up and going slack in his arms, Williams lets you stand, slowly letting go as to make sure you won't run. After all, he's got six soldiers pointing automatics trained at your body to make sure you don't try to do anything. He scoffs, laughing at your pathetic state before turning his attention to Leon who's refusing to remain still or quiet.

“Stay away from her!” Leon screams, pushing against the arms that hold him back, barely able to restrain his lean muscular body. Your chest tugs as if magnetizing you to him and your eyes sting with hot tears. “You put one fucking finger on her, I’ll kill you!”

“Oh?” Williams taunts and he raises a quizzical eyebrow. “Leon Kennedy defending (Y/n) (L/n)? My ears must be deceiving me.”

If looks could kill, everybody in the room would be dead with the way Leon’s eyes darkened. A hand touches back and you instinctively jerk away before roughly being tugged closer. Somewhere, chains clink and your whole posture goes rigid.

“The perfect soldier we could never replicate,” Williams muses, pressing a firm hand to the scars that shape your backside. “Not without discipline, of course.”

The room falls silent as Leon processes his words. 

"You're dead," he spits venom, dripping with promise. "I'm going to kill you and I'll make it fucking hurt, motherfucker."

"Don't listen to him," Williams waves Leon off as if he were just some bothersome fly before focusing his attention on you. "Haven't we taught you anything, Agent (L/n)? This fool doesn't love you. At the very best, you're just some lively entertainment for him before leaving you in a cold bed in the morning." 

Leon thrashes even more violently than before. You keep your eyes on the concrete beneath your feet. 

"You can't save him the same way you couldn't even save yourself."

"Shut up!" Leon's desperation leaks so candidly though his voice. "(Y/n)! Don't listen to him!"

"Oh, she'll listen to me," Williams circles around, forcing your head up with an iron clasp around your jaw as his face comes into view. "Dogs don't like to be chained up and beat, after all, don't you know?"

You curl in disgust when he lets go, and he continues up the steps to look down on the spectacle beneath him. Just as you told Leon, it's always power he wants, and now is more apparent than ever. 

"Mr. Kennedy, listen to me." You know he doesn't want to hear another word from the man's mouth. "I don't like to do things like this, you know. But, the girl you act like you love so much is more than just the foolhardy agent you've met on the battlefield."

Leon knows you better than that. He knows the way you cry and laugh and love. He knows how willing you'd be to take a bullet to the heart for him in the same way he'd put his head in a guillotine for you. Williams doesn't know the extent of your love, doesn't understand it. He might still believe you hate each other given your past passive aggressive reports on him–but it's clear as day that those feelings have changed since you attempted to cut ties with the J.I.E.

"She's special, isn't she?" Williams croons as if he thinks praise will have you sitting at his feet like a loyal little lapdog. "However, she still has killed so many of your allies–even almost you. Is that something you'll let go of so easily? She could be a traitor trying to get under your skin. She could be our specially engineered clone and you had killed the very real one. How do you know that she's loyal? Certainly, if she wasn't loyal to the very company she agreed to contract to, she'll never be loyal to you."

"You're insane," Leon spits. "Of course she wouldn't want to stick with the guy who's ordered her to be fucking abused into submission. Do you treat all your agents like this or just her?"

"(L/n) is special, like I said. Every special agent deserves special treatment, don't you think?"

Leon glowers. "You'll regret saying that."

Williams just his chin out. "And what makes you think that?"

The lights power down with a groan. The insistent humming drone of electricity stalls and goes silent. The emergency lights fail to come on. The darkness is black enough that you can't even see your hand in front of your face. 

A gun cocks and your heart drops. 

"Get down!"

You hit the floor as bullets start ringing through the air. It's wild, confusing, and you don't know what's happening or why. Your breaths start coming out in panicked puffs as you cover your head, and stay on the ground. Somewhere, someone screams and the blast of a shotgun is heard. The soldiers are commandeering orders and radio static voices are heard all over the place. 

Somebody touches your shoulder and you gasp, scrambling away from them, feet kicking blindly until they're held down. You almost scream before a comforting voice talks to you in a low tone and cuts all those defenses short.

"Sweetheart–baby–it's just me, don't worry,” Leon's thoughts run a million miles a second and they translate easily to his tongue and out his mouth, “C'mon, get up, we have to go. I can carry you if you can't walk on your own. Shit, he didn't hurt you too bad, did he?" 

You can't form a coherent thought but merely wrap your arms around him with a sob, too keyed up and overwhelmed with everything that's happening around you. Why did the power go out? Did Williams escape in the mess? Who was behind everything that was happening?

"It's okay," Leon soothes, gathering you up in your arms and you feel the floor leave from beneath you, "C'mon, we're getting out of here."

"What…"

"You can ask later. For now, we're leaving."

You bury your head into his chest and let him take you away to wherever he chose fit. The world seems like a blur as more men start shouting over the blasts of gunshots and Leon does his best to get the two of you out. You hear a hum running as lights dance behind your eyelids. Time seems to drag on and flash by in a second as Leon's body jostles beneath yours until eventually, you feel him jump and the roar of an engine fills your ears. 

You open your eyes as he sets you down on a stiff bench, vision blurry as you watch him leave. You don't know where he had taken you or if he'd ever be back, but weakly, you want to reach out for him. There's no energy in your body, exhausted from fighting for so long. People are still shouting and the smell of gunpowder invades your nose. 

You fight to stay conscious, afraid that if you sleep, you might not be able to wake up. Before, you'd been vehemently unafraid of death, but now? Now you're terrified of it. 

Leon comes back into your view, and he seems conflicted, but nonetheless is here. He gently moves your body so that you rest on his lap comfortably, your head nestled against his collarbone as he starts rubbing the palm of his hand across your head. You can still hear the screaming, the gunshots, the blood and pain. 

It feels like you're staying between life and death, back on an island and being with Leon.

"Sweet girl," Leon says just loud enough for you to hear against your hair–the first nickname he ever seriously used with you. "You've been fighting all on your own for too long. Let me take care of you."

Unable to hold back, you allow the tears to spill over at the weight of the truth his proclamation holds. How long has it been since someone's held you like this? Has anybody ever held you like this?

"You can rest," he croons gently. "I've got you, baby. You can let yourself go." 

A lifetime ago, it would have sounded like poisoned words from a wolf in sheep's clothing. But now? 

Now it kind of sounds like he loves you.

And that's perfectly alright with you.

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

During the entire time since you showed up at the motel, Leon had been in close contact with the president back at the white house. You feel like you should have known, would’ve thought it was obvious, but he was very good at distracting you at the best of times.

Leading up to your final stand against the J.I.E., he’d been arranging a squad to be ready on standby in case anything went wrong. When you’d been grabbed, he’d sent out the signal for them to be able to track him down just before he’d been apprehended. The B.S.A.A. was ready, and they successfully cut the power and utilized their nighttime equipment to navigate the sudden battlefield. 

Williams had been captured and taken in for questioning. That much had put your heart to rest.

Leon had ordered an escape chopper, which is what he had carried you into in those final moments. Surely, things must have been more intense for him but you’d been so out of your element that you had completely shut down. A trauma response, maybe, from having to face the possibility that you would die that day.

You stand in the waiting room, wearing a nice little dress as you fiddle with the dark black hard drive in your hands. Your nerves won’t allow you to sit down or rest to any capacity and you anxiously blow out a breath. This moment would determine your future for the rest of your days. Maybe you’d be sent to jail for a lifetime to atone for your crimes against them, but you know Leon wouldn’t let that happen.

The door unlocks and a young man in a stiff suit waves you in. “Miss (L/n). They’re ready for you.”

You nod nervously, take one more deep breath, and enter the office.

The president is already there, hands folded stiffly on the desk as Leon stands to attention behind him. Right now, it was nothing but business, and you shakily nod your head. Reminding yourself that this is a lot more than the times you reported to Williams, you wipe your clammy hands on the back of your dress.

“Good morning, Mr. President,” you say, and thank the heavens when your voice doesn't crack.

The president only smiles non-threateningly, and motions to a chair in front of his desk. “Have a seat–and do loosen up, please. We’re just here to have a conversation, nothing life-changing.”

“Sorry, sir.”

He laughs not unkindly as you take your seat and clasp onto the hard drive in your lap for dear life. 

“From what I understand, you’ve been working with Agent Kennedy for the past month or so, yes?” 

“Correct,” you answer. “The Justice for Inhumane Experimentalists had been keeping me under a contract to pledge my mind, body, and soul to them and when I differed from their plans to begin a bioweapon war, they nearly killed me. I managed to escape and track the coordinates Mr. Kennedy was at."

"I see." The president nods to the hard drive in your hands. "May I?" You slide it over to him and he turns it over in his hands briefly before smiling. "You've done us a great service today, Miss (L/n). For that I would like to formally pardon you from any and all offenses."

A huge weight is lifted from your shoulders as you breathe out in relief. "Thank you."

"Although…" he interjects. "We would rather have you put under watch, which is why you'll be staying with Agent Kennedy for a couple of weeks. I'm sure there's no objections?"

"None at all, sir."

"Good," the president smiles. "There's one more matter I'd like to discuss before I let you go."

You steel yourself for the worst. "Yes?"

"I'd like to personally extend an invitation to you to join the D.S.O. as Agent Kennedy can show you the ropes and you'd fit right in." Your mouth drops open. "Of course, you don't have to accept, but it would be the best option for you right now and we'd hate to lose such a capable soldier who's survived enough things that would kill the average person."

"I…" You look at Leon who only looks back at you with a blank expression, but you can practically hear him begging in your head. 

"You'd be helping people–for real." The president looks at you earnestly. "And surely, you'll get many more benefits than the J.I.E. had granted you. From what I hear, you didn't even have time off."

You think about it, about how the trajectory of your life is changing now. What would happen if you said yes? If you said no? Surely there was no life for you outside these four walls, but could you really afford keeping on going with agent work? You look at Leon again, biting your tongue. You're a ruinous person–scum of the earth. But…if he thinks you can be redeemed then…

"It would be an honor to join, sir," you answer.

The president smiles. "Then you're dismissed. Do be sure to rest up, will you?"

You get up as Leon walks forward and motions you to follow. Dutifully, you trail behind him as the president waves a little goodbye on your way out. The weight of the world lifts from your shoulders as you breathe out in relief when the door closes behind you and Leon immediately slips his hand into yours.

"That wasn't so bad, now was it?" He chides.

"Actually, it was horrible," you correct. "I don't think I've ever been scared shitless in my entire life."

Leon laughs, pulling you along to where his little sedan is waiting in the parking lot. You’re sure that if you hadn’t been driving, he would've crashed it upside down in a ditch somewhere while he walked out fine. It seemed like something Leon would do.

He takes you to his home, an expensive apartment overlooking the District of Columbia that he claims he only had because it’s near the office and that meant less driving for him. You call him a dork and roll your eyes but feel that adoration for him simmer just under your heartbeat. 

While you shower, he orders food and claims he’ll help you settle in after you’ve had something to eat. 

When he finds you staring listlessly out the window to his balcony, he comes up from behind and rests his head on your shoulder, arms winding mindlessly around your waist and sighing peacefully when you lean back into him. It’s oddly domestic and comfortable, and it’s something you don’t want to let go of.

"This is temporary, isn't it?" You mumble brokenly, thinking about what Ada had said back at the lab. "You don't really…you don't."

Leon's eyebrows knit together in confusion as he cups your face and turns your head so that you're forced to meet his eyes. "What gave you that idea?" 

"If you just want me for the pleasure, you can say it," heart twisting painfully as tears well hotly in your eyes. "You can tell me. I can let go."

"No, no," he chastises, holding you close like the nonexistent distance between your bodies was enough to kill him. "When our job is done, we'll go wherever you want. No matter what."

"You don’t get it, Leon," you sigh, pulling away from his grasp. It feels like you're tearing your soul apart. "I've always been unlovable. No matter what I said or what I did, I always ended up alone–and I can't bear to get attached to someone who doesn't reciprocate the way I want them to. I can't do that to you."

He doesn't talk for a moment, frowning upon seeing your hands massaging into your upper arms. Self-soothing, and the feeling of your own touch makes a sad sort of feeling gather in your chest like dew collecting on leaves on crisp early mornings.

"(Y/n)," Leon murmurs your name with so much emotion behind it that you almost start crying all over again. "You know I love you, right?"

The whole world seems to stop.

"For infinity. Forever," he turns you around from your position and reaches out, hand waiting for your own. When you hesitantly rest your palm in his, warmth radiates from his body into yours. "You're not unlovable. Never in a million years. Not if I have anything to say about it."

You really can't hold back the tears now and his other hand comes up, thumbing them away as they cascade. 

You throw your arms around his neck, pulling him close enough to kiss him properly, unable to vocalize just how much his affirmation meant to you.

Leon kisses you like he needs you to exist. His hands rake across your body and your skin tingles with anticipation. When had you gotten to the point where the line between hatred and need blurred so intensely? When did you start needing his touch to be able to function properly? When did you start craving Leon in the ways that you would have loathed just a few months prior?

You love him, infinitely and eternally. Who knows what the road ahead holds for you both? But, as he carries you to his bedroom and closes the door tightly, you find you’re not as afraid of the future as you had already been.

An angel, fallen from grace. 

But, if this is the consequence, then hey.

You’re not one to complain.

[trashboatprince]

Lifting your partner off the ground with aziraphale and crowley? That one sounds cute!

It does! :D

I decided this takes place in the early 1800s (cause I'm obsessed with their looks from the Edinburgh mini-episode).

On with the fic!

--

"It's simple, angel, in order to keep up appearances, you're going to have to sell books." Crowley said, waving a hand about.

Aziraphale groaned in both pain and annoyance. "But that's the worst possible idea! Can't they just... not come into my shop?"

Crowley snorted loudly and cackled. "Then why open a shop in the first place? Why not a library?"

"Oh no, as much as I enjoy them, I don't want people borrowing my books!"

"And a shop was a better idea?"

"A shop works better! Do not question my methods!" Aziraphale huffed, continuing their walk down the streets towards the park. They hadn't planned to meet up today, but they ran into one another and decided it was a good enough excuse to go to St. James's to feed the ducks.

Crowley shook his head as he strolled alongside Aziraphale, cane tapping against the wet road. It had been a very rainy morning and only had just let up less than an hour ago, hopefully a small miracle would be able to make sure their bench was nice and dry when they arrived. Aziraphale was sure that Heaven wouldn't mind that, cleanliness was next to godliness after all, yes?

"People are chatting about what a hoarder you are, angel." Crowley said. "That odd Mr. Fell and his lack of books for sale, and yet all his shelves are so full!"

"My shelves are not full! I have plenty of empty shelves that I can't wait to fill up. In fact, I've heard of a new book that came out recently, have you heard of something by-"

Aziraphale suddenly felt himself being yanked right off the ground and spun around, pressed close to a chest covered in black and red fabric, held tightly by thin, strong arms. There was a loud splash, along with the clattering of hooves and wheels from a horse drawn carriage.

The angel blinked and looked to see that he was in Crowley's arms, held bridal style, and saw that Crowley looked very uncomfortable, and yet very flushed in the face.

"Oh! Crowley, what-?!"

"Hhhhh-! Cold...!" Crowley gave a full body shudder. "That cart... you nearly got splashed by a huge mud puddle, didn't want you to get your new coat ruined, you were so excited about it earlier."

Aziraphale realized that the reason Crowley looked uncomfortable was that he took the splash. His eyes widened and he felt a warmth cross his cheeks, oh. "You always are so good at looking out for me." He said with a smile on his lips.

Crowley hissed and set him down carefully, then glowered. "Not good! Just didn't want you to complain about a bit of mud on your back! I'd never hear the end of it!" He huffed and grabbed for his dropped cane, grumbling a bit more as he did.

The smile grew on Aziraphale's face as he watched him. "Whatever you say, Crowley." He replied, waving his hand and the large, muddy mess of the demon's back was suddenly clean.

--

As much as I love Aziraphale using his angel strength to casually lift up Crowley like it's no big deal, I also love Crowley doing the same with his demonic strength and noodle arms.

[laheymaze]

he is my worst enemy

✨eddie munson✨ x fem!henderson!reader

PART TWO HERE!

requested by: nightshadered

summary: you and eddie do not get along whatsoever and one day when he comes over to your house to hang out with dustin, you realize you have a lot more in common than you thought <3

prompt included: "he is my worst enemy. my nemesis" "didn't you just meet him like five minutes ago?" "yes"

warnings: some language but that's it :)

**this is from my wattpad, simplytbs, from months ago! check out my wattpad for more stories!*

-------

When you walked Dustin to the first day of his new D&D club, you were instantly alarmed when you saw that Eddie Munson was the leader. The 'amazing' guy who has taken Dustin under his wing. You pulled Dustin aside and asked why he would ever join a group with Eddie, and Dustin simply defended him.

"Hey, Henderson!" Eddie paused and looked at you cautiously. "Why are you here?" He questioned.

"This is my sister," Dustin told him. Horror crossed Eddie's face.

"Oh." Was all Eddie said before walking away.

"He is my worst enemy. My nemesis." You said scornfully.

"Didn't you just meet him like five minutes ago?" Dustin questioned.

"Yes. Well, no. We've crossed paths before."

"Listen, Mike and Lucas are here too. If anything happens I will call you."

"Yeah unless he kills all three of you."

Ever since this day, you and Eddie constantly fight, bicker, and insult each other. You think he is an awful influence on Dustin, and you wish your little brother would just leave the group. You kept warning him that if Eddie turns out to be some psycho killer, not to go crying to you since you were right.

On today's episode of 'Eddie and Y/N fights 101,' you walked over to the Hellfire lunch table, giving Dustin the book that he needed for his class after lunch.

"To what do I owe this pleasure, your majesty," Eddie said, bowing to you.

"Just giving Dustin his book, asshat." You responded harshly.

"Can you two just be nice to each other for once?" Dustin asked.

"No." You and Eddie responded at the same time, giving each other a dirty look.

"See, you can already read each other's minds." Dustin pointed out.

"You're right Dusty-bun, we can. Eddie is thinking about how he wishes he could get a girlfriend and how badly he wishes he could destroy me. Probably how he can kill all of us with his satanic cult. Oh, and can't forget the whole not being able to graduate thing." You said, probably crossing a dangerous line.

"And Y/N is thinking about how to be a nice person. Oh wait, she isn't capable of that since she a cold-blooded reptile that can make an appearance of a human, or, somewhat of one." You stood there and crossed your arms aggressively. Eddie smirked because he knew he got you there.

"Enough! Just shut up!" Dustin shouted. You walked away and sat back down with your friends. Them asking you why you keep talking to Eddie 'the freak' Munson. Your head was somewhere else while they were questioning you, though. Did he really think you were a cold-blooded reptile? This remark bothered you more than any of the ones he has ever thrown at you. It stayed on your mind the entire day.

—

You were crawled up in your bed when you heard a knock on the door. Maybe Dustin forgot his key. You got up and opened the door, only to see Eddie standing there.

"Oh, hey, sorry. Dustin and I are supposed to hang out. I'm early." Eddie told you.

"He's not here." You said coldly, a sad look on your face.

"What's wrong?"

"Do you even care?"

"You seem sad," Eddie said. You left the door open and walked back to your room. Eddie closed the door behind him and followed you. "What's wrong, Y/N?" Eddie looked around your room and saw the rock music posters hanging, along with the guitar pick art you had on your wall and tapes and vinyl's lined up on your shelves.

"Nothing." You told him.

"I didn't know you were a metal head like me? I thought we had nothing in common." Eddie said, amazed.

"You're not a cold-blooded reptile, so we don't have anything in common." You said, throwing yourself down on your bed, curling up with a pillow. Eddie gave you a sad expression.

"That's what's bothering you? I once called you a whiny bitch, and that had no effect. Y/N, I do not think you are cold-blooded or a reptile." A tear ran down your face, and Eddie panicked. He had no clue what to do. "No no no no, don't cry! I'm sorry!" Eddie rushed over and sat next to you, wrapping an arm around you lightly, too scared to get too close.

"I can't believe I'm letting you see me cry right now." You said, laughing.

"See, you are fully human." Eddie said, trying to make you feel better. You laughed some more and buried your face in your pillow.

"Rock music is my favorite and I actually like D&D. I just never said anything because I didn't want you to think we had something in common." You said, muffled, pillow still in your face. Eddie laughed and pulled the pillow away. He lightly hit you with it, making you giggle.

"What else don't I know about you?" Eddie asked, facing you.

"I have a tattoo." You said, sheepishly. "If my mom knew, she'd become even more mental than she already is."

"Y/N Henderson has a tattoo? How did you even get one since you're not eighteen?"

"Steve took me." You answered.

"I'm sorry, Steve as in Steve 'the hair' Harrington?" Eddie was taken back, jealousy present.

"Yeah, we've been through a lot so him and I are close. We aren't a thing if that's what you are freaking out about." You told him.

"Why would that freak me out? I don't care." Eddie got nervous and started playing with his rings.

"Mhm." You smiled at Eddie. "I guess we do have things in common besides my brother." You said. "Don't tell him about this either, because he will never leave us alone."

"Trust me, I won't. He'll make my life miserable with a bunch of questions."

"Who will?" Dustin's body appeared in your room, confused as to why you and Eddie were somewhat snuggled on your bed together. You both looked at him, Eddie jumping out of your bed right away.

"You will if I left without even though you took forever to get here." Eddie joked, throwing his arm around Dustin's shoulder. The pair were leaving your room as Eddie turned around to smile at you. "See you around, Y/N."

"Since when do you two get along?" Dustin asked Eddie.

"Since forever, where have you been?"

----

part two will be a good one! sorry if there are any mistakes in here, i am exhausted and was trying to get this done 

make sure to like and reblog :)

[canadiansummer]

TITLE: A Matter of Traditions [18+] PAIRING: Dmitri Antonov x Fem!Reader / Enzo x Fem!Reader REQUEST: from anon: “I absolutely love how you write Dmitri, and since you are taking requests, how about: celebrating his first Christmas in the US with f!reader? He may or may not be the present :D (meaning: I also love how you write sexy times!) Additional details (but not required, really, everything is up to you!): no mentions of Stranger Things canon and therefore no Mikhail; reader is a neighbor who can speak Russian and that's why they start bonding, she's a book translator maybe so she works from home and instead of typing she spends her days looking out of the window as the Russian hottie paints his fence...“ WARNINGS: GRAPHIC SMUT, minors dni. There’s also mention of grief and grieving, and unprotected sex (the pullout method does not work, this is fiction lol) It’s 14 pages, so I’d pace yourself. NOTE: Firstly, I’m sorry for writing a Christmas fic in March. The idea was just too fun. Secondly, thank you to the anon who sent this! I tried to work with what you wanted, but I left some stuff vague. Regardless, I hope you enjoy this and the same to everybody else who reads it.

You weren’t used to not seeing snow around this time of year.

Granted, you had lived in California for years, but your family had dragged you across state lines to meet for Christmas every year. You had always dragged your feet about the drive, yet this year you found yourself almost missing that on top of actually seeing your family. There were lights, a few decorations that reminded you what month it was, yet there was a part of you that was hoping you would just push through the last week and move on from the holiday. Which was what had you throwing yourself into your work more this month, both translating and getting ahead in your lesson recordings.

Which is also how you found yourself leaning against the small brick wall of Joyce Byers’ walk up, a heavy cassette recorder resting in your arms as you waited for her to come back outside to collect it.

She lived a bit of a drive away from you, but your little friendship with her had you kind of running around in the same circle. Which you knew wasn’t intended, but given the neighbor you had, you found yourself asking after and being invited to things involving her. Still, your initial bonding over working from home stood strong, but you could admit that you found it nice to have more reasons to see her. Though, that was at odds with you being pretty withdrawn this month.

Still, it was nice to be outside for a bit, even if there was that exhaustion that lingered over you over the last couple of weeks.

You lifted your gaze from the worn brand name on the recorder in your hands to the front door when you heard it open, Joyce stepping outside with a grin. She looked…a little stressed, actually, but you found yourself returning her smile with a small one of your own.

“Thank you so much for letting me borrow this,” you said as you stepped forward to return the device to her, “Once I have my next book translated, I should have enough to buy my own so I don’t need to bother you every couple of weeks.”

“It’s not a big deal, don’t worry,” Joyce dismissed easily enough, setting the recorder on the edge of the steps. “How is that coming along, anyway? I…can’t imagine books in Russian sell all that well over here.”

“Well, it’s not something I’d say is flying off the shelves,” you replied, sitting yourself down on the step once Joyce had done so herself, “Though, there’s some people interested and I can get enough from selling stuff under the table. The language lessons might do better, once I’ve got them all together.”

“Dmitri is still helping you with that, right?”

“With pronunciation, mostly,” you replied with a nod, “He’s been…really helpful.”

In more ways than one, you supposed. Your interactions with him had steadily moved toward a more gray area in regards to what was platonic and what wasn’t.

You had formed a quick friendship based on your shared language, which had been a bit of a surprise to both you and some of the people around you. Then the eventual proximity of your living situations only made interacting with him not only easier, but more frequent. You had approached him with the recording idea, considering you could read and write in Russian easily enough at that point, but you were concerned about your accent and pronunciation. Having a native speaker living within walking distance was too good an opportunity to pass up.

Yet, it wasn’t hard to miss the fact that you had started to regard him in a way that wasn’t exactly neighborly or professional. You knew some things about him–he knew Hopper and Joyce, as you’d crossed paths with him a couple times when visiting them, though the nature of his relationship with them wasn’t completely known to you yet. You also knew he was a political defector, as he’d described, but pushing further into that only got you vaguer answers. As much as your curiosity wanted you to dig, you knew it wasn’t your place to. Regardless, a closeness had formed over the last while and you couldn’t help but regard him in a different way. If he returned that or not, it was hard to read at points. Sometimes it seemed so, yet other times it felt like you were reading into things a little too much.

It was a frustrating push-and-pull that often left you with more questions than answers.

As if reading your mind, you caught the look Joyce tossed your way. The touch of a grin on her lips, eyebrows slightly raised. You let out a small scoff but couldn’t help mirroring her grin.

“Don’t start.”

“I’m not saying anything,” Joyce replied, lightheartedly as she raised her hands up somewhat, “Just that if you’re worried about our reaction, you might not find much surprise…”

“He’s…helping me out, that’s all.” As much as you wished otherwise, sometimes.

“Okay,” she replied, still teasing but it was clear she was backing off the topic. For now, you supposed. She rubbed her hands on the tops of her legs, looking out toward the street as you noticed her demeanor change somewhat. “Anyway, that’s not what I wanted to talk with you about…”

You shifted to sit toward her a little more on the step, giving her your attention as she glanced back toward you. There was a softness to her expression, one that put a bit of tension in you.

“I know that this will be your first Christmas without your family…” she started, that familiar pit of grief setting back into your gut that you had forgotten about for a few moments. “I hate to think that you’ll be alone, so if you wanted to spend it with us, we’d be happy to have you.”

“Joyce…” you started, feeling a small squeeze in your chest at her kind gesture, “That’s so sweet, but I think I’ll be fine. It still hurts, but…I don’t know, maybe I need to do it this way. Let myself grieve, things like that.”

“I understand. I just didn’t want you to feel alone, or…”

“I’ll be fine,” you replied with a light smile, “I’ll join you guys for New Years.”

“Okay,” Joyce said with a small, sympathetic smile as she reached out to squeeze your hand.

You returned it easily, despite the light choking feeling in your throat.

                                                             ***

At around noon, you got a knock on your front door.

You were sitting at your kitchen table, listening to the radio host talking–weather, traffic, it was something you could easily tune out as you finished off your lunch. However, the sound made you pause, your eyebrows furrowing somewhat before you crossed over toward the living room to subtly peer behind a curtain toward the front door. You immediately recognized the figure outside, though it didn’t quite quell the mild confusion in you.

Finally, you opened the door with a small smile–friendly, but you couldn’t ignore the small twinge of nervousness that settled in you.

Dmitri looked as collected as he usually did–it was interesting how friendly and attentive he could appear sometimes, while also still being as unreadable as he was sometimes. At the moment, however, he greeted you with a familiar grin, his body language relaxed yet almost expectant. While you returned the quick greeting he gave you, it was hard to hide the touch of confusion that lingered in your expression.

That is, until he produced a cassette tape from his pocket, realization making you let out an almost embarrassed chuckle.

“That completely slipped my mind,” you admitted, finally shifting to open the door some more, “Feel free to come in. I’m interested in hearing your input.”

You left him to let himself in as you crossed the room to turn off the radio as the starts of a familiar holiday song started up. As unavoidable as you knew it was, considering it was only a couple of days until Christmas, you just wanted to carry on like it was a normal week. Having him there to talk about your progress in Russian was a welcomed distraction.

“I don’t have much to give you this time,” he replied as you cleared off the table, leaving him to place the tape down on the surface as you returned. “Your accent is getting better.”

“I’m glad,” you replied with a light smile, sitting back down in your chair as you pulled the tape toward yourself, turning it over in your hands somewhat. “It means I won’t have to redo this one, which is always a good thing. I can’t thank you enough for your help. It’d be easier to just keep to translation, but that work only comes so often so…well.”

“It’s fine,” he replied, somewhat dismissive but otherwise his tone was light–you’d learned a while ago that if he didn’t want to do this, you probably would have known by now. “I still want to work on my English, but it is nice to do this.”

You gave him a small, understanding nod at that. Given what you knew about him and where he came from, you could understand where he was coming from with that somewhat. Though, you noticed him glancing around your home at that moment, as if looking for something. This wasn’t the first time he had set foot in your home–usually no more than to do this exact thing, actually. Yet, you couldn’t help the slow furrowing of your brows as he glanced back toward you.

“You don’t celebrate?”

It took you a moment to clue in–compared to other houses in the neighborhood, you knew yours was lacking in decorations or anything this year. You didn’t have the energy or see the point–there’d be another time. It was hard to stop yourself from wringing your hands together, however, dropping your gaze down toward the table for a moment.

“My, uh,” you started, “My family used to gather around this time of year, but…we’re not doing that this year. It’s the first time I’m on my own this year, so I didn’t really see a reason to set everything up.”

“I understand,” he replied, “It is not my first time alone, but it is while being here.”

“Oh…yeah, I suppose it would be,” you said, meeting his gaze again, “It’d be different dates for you, wouldn’t it?”

“Yes and no,” he said after a small pause, finally shifting to sit down at the vacant chair at your table. “My parents grew up under strict religious laws–the government didn’t want any religion at all in the country and I grew up in a time where that was still present. We were allowed to celebrate the new year, so my family carried some traditions over to celebrate then. Not too different from what I have seen. We had a small tree, some old decorations and presents if we could afford them. It was an excuse to save food and cook in my house.”

“I had no idea,” you replied, taking in that information, “This must be a couple firsts for you, then.”

“At a literal level, sure,” he replied with a small shrug, “Like I said, this is not the first time I have been alone during this time of the year. It doesn’t feel too different.”

You wished you could say the same.

Still, you bit back that remark–you didn’t really know why. He had just shared a couple things about his family, but you still bit your tongue about the fact that your father had been the one to bring the family together at this time. After his passing, nobody really knew who should take up the mantle and with it being so recent…well, there was still a sting to it.

However, sitting at the table with Dmitri as a small silence lingered after his words, you found a somewhat surprising thought crop up in your mind. You supposed it wasn’t too different from how Joyce felt toward you a couple days ago–yet, it’d force you to acknowledge the holiday at least somewhat, but the casual way he talked about being alone stabbed at you somewhat.

Would he even want to? You enjoyed spending time with him, and it seemed like he returned the feeling, yet…

“Well…” you started, fiddling with the cassette tape again, “If we’re both alone, maybe you’d want to spend it here?”

“With you?” he asked after a moment, a small pit of regret setting into your gut at the question.

“Only if you want to,” you said, pushing through the feeling as though a part of you just wanted to retract the offer, “I know I wasn’t planning on doing anything this year, so I could not make a big deal out of it anyway. I just thought I’d offer since you’re my neighbor–my friend. It can be…a little lonely.”

A part of you worried that it sounded a little too much like you were offering out of pity, yet Dmitri didn’t seem to take it that way. That, or he didn’t voice it at the moment. He seemed to think that over, which was a little unexpected. You had been expecting a polite decline–you were just helping each other out, asking to spend Christmas together was a little overboard.

Yet, he still continued to surprise you.

“If you want to,” he said after a few moments, causing you to glance toward him, “that would be nice. I wouldn’t mind that.”

“Like I said, it wouldn’t be too much of an issue,” you replied as you felt a small grin touch your face, “It might give me an excuse to pick up a small tree and buy my own decorations.”

“Again, if you want. Still…thank you.”

                                                          ***

“Hopper and Joyce said they are doing a sort of backyard party for New Years if the weather is nice enough,” Dmitri said after rummaging through a back to pass you another wrapped box of ornaments as you worked on unwrapping the cord for the lights on the small tree. “I was told to pass on the invitation to you.”

“Joyce already hinted at it,” you said, though you were still touched that they still went out of their way to do so formally. Though, you paused somewhat, glancing toward him over your shoulder. “Didn’t they have one recently? For Halloween?”

“I think so,” he replied, “I am starting to think it is a way to make sure I don’t need to buy my own food.”

“My family used to do those in the summer–though, I used to live where it snowed a lot in the winter so I suppose it was a summer thing. Maybe they are just taking advantage of the climate here.”

“Maybe.”

As much as you had been nervous to let him spend the holiday with you, things seemed to relax into how they usually were once you were in the same space together. You were reminded that things often felt like a tug-of-war with him at points–lighthearted and flirty sometimes, then kind of distant and neighborly during other times. Really, there was a part of you that just wanted to ask. To rip the bandage off and settle on an answer so it wasn’t a question that sat on your mind whenever you were with him.

At the moment, however, you didn’t find the words coming forth. Still, the fact that Joyce and Hopper knew you two interacted enough to send messages down through each other, along with the look Joyce had given you back when you sat on her step, had you holding back the urge to shake your head.

If it was that obvious, the crossing of that line shouldn’t be as difficult as it was.

Still, you didn’t want to dwell on that in the current situation. Not with Dmitri in your home and you sitting on the floor as you finished setting up the small tree you had bought. It was fake, about the length of your arm. You put a small, plaid cloth over the step stool you set it on in the living room, but for the most part it wasn’t too bad. Finally, you plugged the lights in, shifting to sit a little further back from it as you took it in.

Again, it wasn’t much, but the lights did make you feel a little better somehow.

“There it is,” you said, spreading your arms out somewhat in a teasing manner toward it.

“You honored your word at least,” Dmitri commented.

“I definitely try to,” you muttered as you watched him help himself to a box of ornaments.

They were mostly decorative balls, you didn’t want to go overboard. It was a little odd to see him like this, yet it put a lightness in your chest that you hadn’t felt in a while. You didn’t mind the small silences, either, considering a part of you was still struggling to admit that not only were you going ahead with holding at least a small celebration for the season, but it was also with him. You enjoyed Dmitri’s company, but in a situation like this you feared that your mind would tumble down a familiar path and you would end up saying something that would make this awkward.

So, you were also happy that you had something to do with your hands as you set about decorating the tree with him. However, that relatively mild ‘peace’ didn’t last too long.

“You said your family gathered in the summer and during this time?” Dmitri asked, causing you to glance toward him as you could sense that uncomfortable topic approaching. “Is this a lot like what they would do?”

“Kind of,” you replied after taking in a small breath, looking over the tree for a moment. “Just…bigger, I guess. My parents liked to bring everybody together, so it was usually a pretty crowded house. Relatives sleeping on couches.”

Dmitri didn’t say anything, just listening. You debated on leaving it at that, yet you figured letting him in a bit wouldn’t be too terrible. You both were a little vague about certain things, but you certainly didn’t regard him as some stranger or distant acquaintance. The current situation was proof of that.

“My mother passed when I was younger,” you continued, “It was my dad who carried on the traditions they set out, despite how painful it was during the earlier years. He did that by himself for years, well into his kids being adults, having kids of their own. He…passed this year, a while ago but still recent enough that I think we’re struggling to figure out how to pick up what he left. I just…know it’s not me. Not this year.”

“...I’m sorry,” Dmitri said as he let that sit for a couple of moments, “You didn’t say anything about that.”

“I struggled with admitting it to myself for a while,” you admitted, “I started telling more people, but then this month…I don’t know. I just didn’t want to think about it.”

“I can understand.”

You sat down on the floor as you took the last decoration from your box, resting your arms on your knees as you took in the tree for a few moments. A part of you had been expecting to struggle to hold back tears and not break down in front of him, yet there was an odd sense of calmness in you. Maybe it was just the moment and it would all hit you once all of this was over, but you would take it as it was for the time being.

“It hurts, but…I don’t know. I think he’d be relieved I’m not spending it alone in the dark or something. Not that I invited you to fill that or whatever, but I know he’d be happy.”

Dmitri didn’t reply to that, seeming to accept your natural response to all of that as he sat beside you as you both took in your work. You found a familiar feeling rising up in you, the very same one that had been poking at you the whole time that existed outside of your grief for the loss of your father.

Maybe you should just say something. The year was ending, maybe you could just get an answer.

“This is probably a terrible time to get into this, but I just wanted to know if…”

You had felt a bit of courage build up in you as you started talking, yet when you turned to look at Dmitri, the words kind of died on your tongue.

The look on his face took you off guard, admittedly. While a part of you was expecting to see the pained expression of a rejection that you had seen on different people throughout different points in your life, the softness of his expression and turning to meet his gaze unexpectedly head-on had your heart stopping for a moment. Dmitri looked somewhat surprised himself, like he hadn’t expected you to catch him looking at you. Yet, despite how easily either of you could just look away, you found yourself holding his gaze for a few, prolonged moments.

As much as you knew you could just complete your thought–just ask outright if he was as interested in you as you were in him–you realized that you didn’t have to. You found yourself leaning in easily to meet him in a kiss, Dmitri cupping the back of your head as you shifted closer to him. The kisses got firmer as the initial hesitancy stepped aside, your hands coming up to cup both sides of his jaw. You felt his arm slip around your lower back as he pulled you closer to him.

You slipped your leg over one of his own, allowing your bodies to brush briefly as you wrapped your arms around the back of his neck and shoulders. The position was a little uncomfortable on the hardwood of your floor, but the mix of the rush of emotions and genuine relief had you savoring the moment. There had been the wandering thoughts of what it would be like if you had just kissed him at certain moments, or vice versa, yet the reality was a different story.

In the dying light of day and the small illumination of the lights on the tree beside you, along with the days and weeks of dreading the next day or so, the fact that he was kissing you was almost euphoric.

However, you knew the lightheadedness you were starting to feel was from needing some air.

You pulled back from the kiss somewhat with a small inhale, feeling like your mind was buzzing with things you should say following that. Yet, Dmitri’s hand tracing along the side of your face, thumb running down your jaw, was enough to slow that for a few moments.

“I hope you were wanting to talk about that and not something else,” he said after a few moments, which pulled a small, amused huff from you. “I have wanted to do that for so long.”

“How long?” you asked, failing to hide the mild disbelief from your tone despite everything.

“Weeks,” he replied with a light shrug, “A couple days ago before we ended up talking about Christmas.”

“...Yeah, that’s about the same for me,” you replied with a chuckle, shaking your head lightly, “I had been sitting in suspense for weeks, you should have just done it.”

“Merry Christmas.”

Dmitri pulled you in again for another kiss, feeling him grin into it making you feel almost giddy. It was tempting to deepen it, especially considering you were practically sitting in his lap and you were close enough to feel his chest press against your own as he breathed. Yet, you knew carrying on with this on the floor would quickly become uncomfortable and you didn’t know if he wanted to go any further than kissing. Given the feeling building low in your gut, you knew what your answer was but you still found yourself pulling back after a few moments.

“Can…Do you want to go to my bedroom or just see each other tomorrow? I’m fine with either, but I know I can’t sit on the floor much longer.”

Dmitri regarded you for a few moments, mulling that over as you tried to will your heart to slow down a bit. You knew things were escalating quickly, yet you were truthful about being fine with either. You just wanted him to make a call, and you could tell he knew that as well. You felt him tug lightly at the side of your shirt as he gathered his words.

“If we go to your bedroom, that is not because you don’t want to deal with what you told me about your father, yes? I don’t want to be a distraction from that.”

“I have tried many distractions,” you admitted, shaking your head somewhat sadly, “It’ll still be there and I know that. I want to deal with that. I also want this. The two didn’t really cross in my mind, but no. I don’t want to use you like that. I wouldn’t.”

Dmitri took in your words for a few moments before he nodded, shifting so you could pull away from him more. Though, the separation didn’t last too long as he pulled you back into him once you both were standing, kissing you for a few moments before pulling back somewhat to speak.

“Then I would like to see your bedroom,” he said, pulling lightly at the waistband of your pants, “eventually.”

He pulled you down onto the couch with you on top of him again, his mouth finding yours again. You let out a small noise of surprise with the hardness of the kiss, settling to straddle his hips as you ran your hands down his clothed chest. Despite the current moment, some mild disbelief still managed to push its way to the forefront of your mind that this was happening in the first place. There had been a point where you figured you should have let the whole thing go–to let it fizzle out and you’d settle into more platonic thoughts about him. Yet, that wasn’t the case.

Perhaps it never would have been the case, considering the current moment.

With the confirmation you needed, the hesitancy seemed to melt away as you broke from the kiss to trail your lips down his neck. There had been wandering thoughts every now and again about what it would be like to have his mouth on you, or what reactions he’d have if you did the same. Of course, the reality was pretty different, but you didn’t particularly mind that. Dmitri was a little quiet, which kind of lined up with what you had known of him, but his sighs and the way his hands roamed your back told you he was enjoying himself enough.

It also wasn’t hard to miss the stiffening bulge in his pants that became more apparent as things progressed, his hands venturing into more intimate places. You weren’t too surprised when you found yourself removing your shirt at his prompting, which had you pulling his own up in return. You wanted to feel his skin on yours, which he seemed happy to oblige given how quickly his mouth found your shoulder. You let out a small breath at the feeling of his mouth against your skin, placing a hand against the back of the couch to brace yourself while one moved up into his hair as he dropped his head down to press an open-mouthed kiss against the top of one of your breasts.

Your gaze wandered toward the small bit of a street lamp that you could see through one of the small slits in the blinds. The sun had gone down, the light from the street lamp and some other lights from the houses around being one of the only light sources. For the most part, it looked empty, and you knew your living room blinds were drawn. While doing this in front of a window could go south pretty quickly, the chance of anybody seeing was low and you were enjoying the foreplay.

So, you pushed away from Dmitri somewhat to unclasp your bra. For a few moments, you could feel your heart pick up its pace when his gaze dropped down to your chest. Though, he looked back up to meet your eyes as you returned to your previous position.

“You look better than I pictured,” he muttered.

That surprised you somewhat, that you weren’t alone in the fantasizing, though any response you could come up with to that died before you could formulate it as he cupped one of your breasts in his hand. The sensation had you arching your back into him, unawarely grinding yourself down against his crotch as he gently pinched and rolled one of your nipples. That pulled a low moan from you, Dmitri lifting his hips against your own as you pressed down against him in kind. Even with the both of you still only being half naked, it still felt nice and you definitely wanted more.

“So do you,” you replied finally, almost in a sigh.

There was truth to that statement.

Really, your affection and attraction toward him had been a little slow building–from distraction and stress, at the time. You had thought he was a good-looking man when you had first met him, though you weren’t sure what to make of him. He was more of Hopper’s friend than Joyce’s, but she had been quick to mention your translation work and things between you two had warmed up quickly enough. It was downhill from there, really. You had found yourself enjoying his voice, regardless of the language. His eyes, grin, arms, his lips. Once you had started to wonder what it would be like to be kissed by him, what his hands would feel like on your body, you knew your little acquaintanceship had shifted. There had been a few days where you found yourself staring at him instead of following what he was saying.

Knowing what you did now, you wondered if he’d had similar issues in regards to you.

It didn’t really matter in the long run, however, considering how Dmitri closing his mouth around one of your nipples effectively stopped any further wandering thoughts. He kneaded one of your breasts in his hand, sucking on and flicking his tongue against the nipple of the other. You moaned, fingers gripping a little tighter into the back cushion of the couch. As much as you were clearly enjoying what his mouth and hands were doing, you brushing yourself against and grinding on his cock was slowly killing you.

You dropped your free hand down to his stomach, trailing your fingers down until you felt the waistband of his pants. Fumbling a little blindly until Dmitri pulled his head back from your chest, you opened the front of his pants.

“I figure this might feel a little better,” you said, tone lightly teasing but you couldn’t hide the desire in it as he let you slip your hand into his pants.

You cupped him in your hand, pressing your palm against his erection as he lulled his head back somewhat against the couch. He rolled his hips up against your hand as you rubbed him outside of his underwear for a bit. You watched his face as you did so, rubbing him harder or faster depending on his reactions. The way his breaths hitched and the short grunts and groans he let out was worth delaying your own pleasure for a while. You pulled his cock out, giving it a few languid strokes.

From your position, you knew you could easily just push down your pants and underwear and ride him on the couch, yet you weren’t too keen on doing that where potential eyes could see. Doing what you were doing currently was risky enough. Though, you couldn’t help but keep stroking him, picking up the pace somewhat to help him along. After a few more strokes, you bent down and licked the head of his cock. Immediately, you noticed the way his legs tensed up, a somewhat choked groan escaping him. Dmitri gripping a hand onto your shoulder had you not going any further, however. You glanced up at him as he shook his head lightly.

“You wanted to take me to the bedroom.”

“I thought you seemed pretty relaxed on the couch,” you commented, somewhat amused but caught onto his meaning.

You weren’t sure if you wanted to continue on the couch, either, anyway. Plus, the throbbing between your legs was getting hard to ignore, but you didn’t know if you could multitask enough to touch yourself and pleasure him at the same time. Not with the direction you had been headed, anyway.

So, leading him down the hall toward your room was an easy choice to make. You took the liberty of removing the last of your clothing before climbing onto your bed. Dmitri wasn’t too far behind, following suit before joining you. He pressed you into the mattress as he kissed you. It was harder than the other ones, your mouth parting for his tongue as you felt his cock slide against your folds with a small roll of his hips. You moaned into Dmitri’s mouth, pushing your hips up to rub yourself against his cock. He moaned in return, pressing his hips into your movement as well.

Finally, you broke from the kiss with a small, involuntary whimper. You were more worked up than you realized, a surge of both frustration and anticipation settling into your gut.

“I need you inside me,” you said between a breath, “I want you. Please.”

“I know,” Dmitri muttered against the skin of your neck before he pressed a quick kiss against the underside of your jaw. “You’re so wet.”

You knew, too. It wasn’t hard to notice, and a part of you almost wanted to feel a little embarrassed by that and how your hips kept twitching, but you didn’t really care at the moment. Dmitri ground himself against you a few more times, the movements slow and a little torturous. Thankfully, he seemed ready to move on from that, as you felt him shift back somewhat before pushing his cock into you.

The stretch still had a bit of a pinch to it, but thankfully you were aroused enough to adjust quickly enough. You situated your legs against his hip as he rocked into you at a slow pace until he was buried completely inside you. You could feel his steady breaths against your neck and shoulder, pulling and pushing his cock against your walls that you found yourself rocking your hips again in an attempt to get him to move faster.

Eventually he was moving in a way that was pulling more moans and gasps from you, little jolts of pleasure spurring you into thrusting up against him at a quicker pace.

You were very close to just losing yourself into the sensations Dmitri was pulling out of you with each thrust, but reality still liked to leak in around the edges from time to time. It dawned on you that this was truly happening. You were having sex with the man that you had tried, time and again, to let go of since you were convinced it wasn’t going to happen. You had fantasized about him from time to time, a thought to touch yourself to during late nights in hopes an orgasm would help get you to sleep. If loneliness and a longing didn’t have you just wanting to be close to him.

He liked you, too. That was something you didn’t have time to turn over in your head, but tonight made that apparent.

Yet, those were thoughts you were struggling to hold onto as Dmitri hooked an arm under the knee of one of your legs. He thrusted into you harder, and at a somewhat better angle, which had you shifting your free leg up so he was hitting that much deeper. His moans were louder, more intense and you knew he was probably approaching that peak you were close to. You reached down between your bodies to find your clit, circling it with a finger a few times as Dmitri thrusted into you.

“You’re close?” Dmitri asked once he noticed what you were doing, which you just nodded your head at. “Let me.”

He gently brushed his hand under yours, prompting you to move it as he started to rub similar circles on your clit. You let out a low sound as you could feel a pressure building, his touch not quite as precise but with his cock thrusting into you it was definitely enough.

You wanted to say something, yet your words were failing you and it wasn’t long until you felt that pressure move further down and you tightened around him. Your orgasm washed over you, making you arch your back with a strangled cry. You dug your fingers into the flesh of Dmitri’s shoulder, feeling him slow as you clenched around him. He moaned into your ear as he dropped his head onto your shoulder again. He thrusted a few more times before he pulled out, spilling his cum onto your stomach and thigh with a loud groan.

You could still feel your orgasm washing over you, leaving you limp against the bed as you waited for it to subside. Dmitri stepped outside into the hall for a few moments once you started to come back down, returning with what looked to be a damp washcloth from the bathroom.

“I didn’t think I would make that much of a mess,” he commented, washing his cum from your stomach and leg with the cloth. “I’m sorry.”

“You could have broken a lamp and I don’t think I would’ve noticed for a minute there,” you admitted with a chuckle, “Don’t worry about it.”

“It was good, then?” he asked, turning to toss the cloth into a hamper you had near the bed.

“Yes,” you replied with a small grin as he settled onto the bed beside you. “Was it for you?”

Dmitri nodded, hovering over you to press a lingering kiss to your lips. You pressed back into it, cupping the side of his head until he pulled back to lay down beside you. With the rush of emotions and sensations ebbing out, you could feel your mind start to return to the current situation. Still, even with everything that sat on the edges, the grief and everything that came with it, you couldn’t deny the happiness that lingered in you at the moment. It would mix strangely with everything later, but you just let it be at the moment.

Still, you rolled over somewhat to face him a little more. Dmitri shifted closer to pull you into his chest, which you accepted easily as you leaned your head against his shoulder. You shut your eyes for a few moments, letting him trace his fingers along the skin of your arm and shoulder somewhat absentmindedly. However, you found yourself letting out a soft chuckle, shaking your head lightly in amusement.

“I can already see the look on Joyce’s face when she hears about this…”

“What do you mean?”

“A couple days ago, she…in a vague way, asked if there was anything between us and at the time I said no.”

“I got asked, too,” Dmitri said with a small, tired grin, “It will be an interesting topic during New Years.”

[terra-wisp]

Day 10: "In Between" || 462 Words || Fleurmione (Beauty and the Beast AU - But not in the way you think) @sapphicmicrofics

“Hermione! I do not know where all this dust comes from, but I do not appreciate all this extra work you give me!” 

Fleur’s voice echoed throughout the vast room that was the Master’s library. Normally, the monstrous prince and his initially unwilling guest were frequent visitors, but today it was just Fleur and Hermione.

A singular feather duster flipped onto the shelving dedicated to Herbal Remedies, almost as if an unseen hand held it as it cleaned yet another layer of unending dust. The wand worked diligently, with the grace of a dancer. All the while, Fleur’s voice continued to chat to her silent audience. 

Eventually, the tool of lacquered wood and feathers stopped, and in a surprisingly human motion two of its feathers separated from the rest to pantomime putting one’s hands on their hips. It was then that the face along the handle was properly seen and it did not look amused. 

“Well? What do you have to say for yourself?” The feather duster, now revealed to be the lone chatty speaker within the vast room, called out. 

There wasn’t a verbal answer. Fleur hadn’t expected one, though it would’ve been nice. Instead, she spotted various tomes push themselves so they stuck out within their brethren. 

“Years within Colors” By Saint Sinclaire

“Overtures of the Last Century” By Poppy Earkat

“Universal Remedies for an Ailing Heart” By Holga Von Lipst

“Linseed Oil and its Many Uses” As contributed by the Sosh Valley Winery

The feather duster bounced from title to title as they each popped out, but she paid no attention to the books themselves and their content — simply the first letter. By the time the final title had revealed itself, Fleur was as close to breathless as a cursed inanimate object could be. 

But she got the message.

Y-O-U-L-O-V-E-M-E-A-N-Y-W-A-Y

The once proud head maid of the former Prince’s staff let out a shuddering sigh. 

“I love you too, mon lionne.” She tentatively placed a single feather against the red oak of the shelf she rested on. It had been so many years since the curse had stolen their bodies away. And while Fleur had retained some autonomy, the steward of the library had not been so lucky.

Hermione was here, and Fleur knew that they were amongst the lucky ones to not be separated from their significant other but it had been so long since she had heard her lover’s posh London accent.

“I am selfish, but I miss hearing your voice.” 

The books shuddered as another phrase was spelled out.

O-N-E-D-A-Y

The books were quick to straighten themselves out, likely because of the voices of their Master and the woman that the castle had put their hopes in. 

Fleur only hoped that it wouldn’t be too late. [A/N: Walked in on some people talking about Fleur as a feather duster in Beauty and the Beast, and I had a "huh" moment. This goes to you dorks. Also, if you spot my attempts at being clever...] [A/N 2: This is NOT part 3 of my random 3 part micro fic trilogy. I got waylaid.]

[speckle-meow-meow]

HII!! I just saw your recent John Doe post and it was rlly good^^ your writing is really nice :D so u wanted to send a request if you don’t mind! Also you may have to do some research if you don’t know this character but anyways could I request John Doe with a S/O who has a Mafuyu Asahina Personality?? Thank u ^^ also the link is there so it’ll be more easier then typing

Thank you! And thank you so much for the link❤

I'm gonna be honest with you, he literally had zero idea of your real personality

One of my favorite YouTubers gamersault broke down the game and John is really only there so to date the MC bc he thinks they belong together here's the video if you wanna watch it

Back to what I was saying

He stalks you obviously but you don't really give a shit you still keep up your facade but it's taking a straine on your health

So when he does talk to you face to face you give him the best smile you can muster

He talks to you like you already know each other

When he asks you the questions you answer honestly which inevitably makes him a little upset

So when you get off of work he follows you

Day after day you start to realize that it's literally only you and him

Soon your facade slips and eventually you show your true colors

No emotions, the Aura around you is as cold as ice

So when you arrive at work the next day your face has a permanent frown

As your restocking the shelves you start talking to yourself

"How in the hell is everything coming off the shelves, there's literally no one in this world but me and that dude."

After you do your tasks you take your place at the counter waiting for nothing

Soon that guy comes back looking a little different

He seems more

Attractive?

He continues to talk to you about the same thing asking the same questions

Yet you still give him the same answers

The next day the same thing except he looks even more attractive

'He's really trying' you say in your head

He asks the questions again

And you change your answers

You let him come home with you

He starts to freak out and eventually shows his true self

Or at least some of his true self

You don't know how to feel

You can't feel anything

He starts to catch on and eventually you end up together

He's your little ball of.... Um... Sunshine?

👁👄👁?

He helps you a little bit

Ig he gives you a little bit of happiness

Your always honest with him you don't sugar coat anything and he knows that

It sometimes hurts him but you do apologize

Just

In your own way

I honestly think he's try to find you / make you a room where you can "Rehabilitate" I supose

Idk if he'd really be really helpful though

But if you'd explain he'd probably try and help.

{Thank you @siouxxiie for this request I hope you like it! I tried to get as close as I can to the character you given me hope I did a good job! Yall already know the drill, re-blogs are always welcomed along with hearts and other stuff}

[uglypastels]

Pleeaaassee I’m begging for another Hell Diver chapter!!!!

i feel ashamed for how long it took me to write this but i hope it's alright.

warnings: nothing explicit, kissing?? sneaking around. its all just fluff

Catch up on the mini series: Hell Diver - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5

masterlist // inbox // add yourself to my taglist

Chapter 6: Up in the Tower

The second you returned home after school, you threw your shoes off and ran upstairs to your bedroom. It was just the right amount of chaotically out of character for you to get your mom off the phone to ask if everything was alright but not that much to make her worried. She was content with a rushed “I’m fine, mom!” from you and a slam of your bedroom door. 

Yeah, you remembered it right; your room was a mess. 

Piles of clothes were strewn everywhere; your desk was hidden underneath a stack of books, schoolwork, and makeup. All you could think about was how this would be the first time Eddie would see your room. You remembered what it was like in his trailer. You had looked everywhere, trying to get a bit of an insight into him. It is the natural response in a new place, to want to look around at everything, isn’t it? So you had to make sure to hide all of your most embarrassing items.

Unfortunately, you could not do anything about the dusty pink wallpaper you had chosen in middle school, but it could have been worse, you reminded yourself. And it wasn’t that you were scared Eddie would judge you; you didn’t want— well, ok, you were slightly scared of being judged. Who wouldn’t be? You and Eddie had completely different styles; your rooms spoke for that perfectly. The fact you had any common interests was a miracle in itself, yet here you were… cleaning up in a rush before he would come over to catch you up on the D&D campaign you were soon to join. 

You spent the entire afternoon cleaning up and would have kept going if your mother had not called you downstairs for dinner.

‘What are you doing up there anyway?’ she asked.

‘Just some spring cleaning.’ Which was technically true. And your mother had been nagging you to sort out your room for weeks, so everything worked perfectly. 

The rest of the dinner went by fast. Finally, the table was cleaned up, and your family went back to the TV room, but you excused yourself to ran back up to your room. The clock on your wall just ticked by 7. You still had three hours before he would get here.

It was a nightmarish 3 hours. You tried to busy yourself by going over all your shelves, straightening out picture frames, re-organising some books, and doing anything to ignore that feeling of anticipation gnawing at your stomach. There was absolutely no reason for you to be this nervous. You had never been really nervous around Eddie, just… you couldn’t quite describe how you felt around him, but it was pleasant. Nice. 

The clock neared ten, and you were getting worried for different reasons. Usually, by this time, you would hear your parents head upstairs, brush their teeth and go to bed. Your mother would come by and say good night, telling you off for not doing the dishes as meticulously as she would have liked. Lights would go off in the house room by room, but, 5 minutes to 10, none of that had happened. They were still downstairs, chatting away.

Then you heard it. At first, you weren’t sure where it came from. This ticking sound, louder than your clock. But it persisted, and you looked around. It was a pure coincidence you decided to look at your window when you saw a little pebble hit it. He wouldn’t…

You leaned to look out your window, and there, right below you stood Eddie Munson. He waved to you enthusiastically, proudly even. You pushed the window open, and the cool night air grazed your face. 

‘How did you know this was my room?’ You whisper shouted. 

‘I assume you don’t live in the basement and that was the only window upstairs where the light was on.’ He said something along those lines. You couldn’t hear him perfectly from how soft he was talking. Reminder, your parents were right there and would probably hear someone shouting in your backyard. 

You were unsure how he did it, but a few seconds later, his hands reached your windowsill and peaked his head into your room. The warm light from your room caught his eyes perfectly, illuminating them golden brown. 

‘May I enter?’ he looked up at you.

‘You sound like a vampire,’ you laughed. 

‘No,’ he said, ‘den I voold tok like dees,’ he put on some kind of horrible impression of the Count from Sesame Street. ‘Ok, that was pretty bad, but seriously, can I come in, I’m not sure how much longer I can hold on.’

‘Oh, right, of course.’ You quickly paved the way for him by pushing some stuff away from the window. Unfortunately, all his elegance from climbing up to your room had vanished, as he let himself fall forward, nearly face-planting into your plush carpet. You cringed at the thump that your parents must have heard downstairs.

Eddie got up as if nothing had happened, dusting himself off of any invisible dirt and taking off the backpack you just noticed he had with him. It was black, like most of his belongings, but in a way that made you think he had dyed it himself. 

‘You can put it overwhere,’ you pointed at your desk, not completely clutter-free, only your school essentials laid out neatly next to each other. 

‘So, you’re one of those neat freaks, huh?’ He asked, looking around just like you had predicted. His words, however, hit you by surprise. Sure, your room was clean, but did it look obsessively clean? Oh god–

‘No, not at all. I mean, I’m not a big fan of mess, but I just had a little time today so I–’

‘Hey, calm down,’ Eddie chuckled, ‘I was joking. It’s cute.’ He picked up one of your stuffed animals that you put on the chair in the corner. ‘Really cute. Does he have a name?’

‘No,’ you responded quickly, trying to grab the fat bunny from him. Eddie avoided each attempt easily. 

‘No? I don’t believe that.’ He kept manoeuvring around you, ‘he must have a name. Looks like a Tony to me.’ 

‘Tony?’ you stopped in your tracks for a second to process his ridiculous suggestion.

‘You’re right, not Tony… but he is a Bardolph!’ Eddie got a bit too excited at that point, and you were quick to silence him. Without thinking, you leapt over to him and placed your hand over his mouth, shushing him. 

‘My parents are still up,’ you explained. ‘So we got to be quiet.’

‘Sorry,’ Eddie whispered. Then, slowly, he held up the bunny again. ‘What about Dorcas?’

‘You’re a Dorcas, Eddie Munson.’ You rolled your eyes and finally snatched the bunny out of his grip. ‘And I didn’t invite you here for you to make fun of my stuff.’ You put the bunny back in its place.

‘First of all, I’m not making fun of anything. I swear,’ Eddie let himself fall onto your bed, and the springs creaked only slightly. ‘And second, why did you invite me here, then?’ He leaned back on the bed, putting his weight on his elbows, looking up at you with a smirk. He knew exactly what he was doing, what he was insinuating and leading the conversation to. 

‘Catch me up on your campaign? Remember that?’

‘Right, the campaign.’  he exhaled deeply with his words, dramatically. ‘The big scary campaign you’re o-so scared of ruining, which is why you needed your mighty and all-knowing Dungeon Master,’ he pointed at himself proudly, making you laugh, ‘to save you from this predicament.’

‘Woah, try not to sell yourself short there, Munson.’ You smiled and sat down beside him on your bed. He put his hands behind his head, looking up at the ceiling, on which plastic glow-in-the-dark stars were glued. 

‘Cute,’ he said, tilting his chin up at the stars.

‘Not everything is cute,’ you rolled your eyes. Why must he be like this?

‘But it’s all yours, and you’re cute, ergo…’ If he had looked to his side at you, he would have caught your blank and dazed stare. The way you were incomprehensibly lost for words. Or maybe he did catch it from the corner of his eyes. Perhaps he took your frazzled expression as a negative because he closed his eyes and laughed lightly in embarrassment the next moment. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to–’ 

‘No, it’s fine, uhh, thanks.’ Your face felt extremely hot. Things could keep going like this; you wouldn’t be able to stay with him in a room if he kept talking to you like that and you stayed lost for words at everything. You had to get the conversation back on track, so you cleared your throat. ‘So, the campaign, what did you guys do up to now?’ 

Eddie started telling you about the adventures he had dragged the party through for the past weeks. As he went on, you made yourself more comfortable beside him. Your bed was large for when it was just you sleeping in it, but with Eddie beside you, the two of you barely fit. He had shuffled nearer to the edge, moving his arm away so you could place your head on your pillow. 

He kept on talking, and you tried to listen; you really did. It was just so difficult to focus when all you could think about was how different he smelled from anything in your room. You were used to a sweet smell, the air freshener and scented candles you’d put on some evenings. Then there was Eddie, who smelled like the fresh night air in the woods; musky, deep, perfect. 

You were so lost in it that you hadn’t even realised he had stopped talking. There was a peaceful moment of silence until he called your name. ‘y/n? You alright?’ 

‘Huh? Yeah, yeah. Sorry.’ You blinked slowly. He was now looking right at you, most definitely aware of how you had been staring at him. 

‘Did you hear anything I said?’ Thankfully, he was taking it all with humour, the corners of his mouth spread in a wide grin. 

‘Of course,’ you tried to regain your memory of the last few minutes, ‘uhh– dude, one arm, one eye- Vector….’

‘Vecna,’ laughed, ‘you totally didn not listen to me at all.’

‘I did!’ you said, way too loud, and immediately shut your hand in front of your mouth before giggling. ‘I did. I just–’

‘Uhuh, you just weren’t paying any attention to me.’ Eddie sat up, pouting. Then, before you could ask what he was doing, he threw his leg over you, blocking you in on each side and leaned so far forward that his hair was tickling your face, ‘how is that supposed to make me feel, princess?’ Did he really ask you that? How were you supposed to feel with your faces only inches apart, heat radiating off of each other? 

‘I’m sorry,’ you couldn’t help but let the nervous laugh out. He mirrored you with a chuckle, which was the sweetest sound you had heard, only enhanced by your proximity.

Your noses touched the faintest touch. 

‘You really hurt my little rusty heart, you know.’ He kept on pulling his pout while those big brown eyes pulled you in more and more. 

‘How can I make it up to you?’ with your faces so close, there was no need to speak louder than a faint whisper.

‘Well, I have wanted to kiss you since I saw you sitting in the drama room,’ his eyes had been locked with your lips, but after saying that, he looked directly into yours, and you could have sworn that if you had not been lying in your bed, you would have fallen. Fast and hard. ‘Would that– would that be alright?’

‘Yes.’ And he didn’t need anything more than that. Framing your cheek with his palm, his lips touched yours gently. The kiss was slow, filling up the silence in the room. The longer it went on, the more the fire inside you burned, yearning for more fuel. It felt like a deliciously beautiful dream, unreal and wonderful in every way.

But all dreams must come to an end, don’t they?

And yours ended with the sound of your door opening and your full name being shouted so loud the entire neighbourhood could probably tell your parents just caught you with a boy who was most definitely not allowed to be there.

thank you for reading!! please reblog and comment, maybe consider leaving a review <3

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[the-fiction-witch]

Seventeen P5-8

Media The Maze Runner AU

Character Newt

Couple Newt X Reader

Rating Sweet AF

Seventeen Series

I had basically been in this lovey composed state for the rest of the day utterly smitten, once classes were over I walked along with Zart and Fry to the nearby seven eleven store, where Zart and I worked part-time he sat on the counter leaning his head on his arm waiting for potential customers, and I did some stocking. I kept an eye on Fry as he stood by the wall of slushie machines watching them rotate the icy drinks, I know He and Zart went out before my shift and they both now had a signature smell about them so I knew they'd pretty much be like this all night but I kept an eye on them both just in case... I heard the bell on the door but didn't think much of it continuing to stock the shelves but I stopped short as I noticed the familiar blue and white uniform of the cheer team They were all here clearly on their way home from practice today, they came in grabbing some snacks, some bags of chips, some chocolate, gummy worms and other such stuff I looked but I couldn't see y/n so I just focused on working 

"Uhhh excuse me" Teresa Snapped to Zart as she and the girls wanted to get some of the hot snacks from behind the counter but he was just kinda out of it 

"...Yeee?"

"Did you not hear me?"

"I heard you... Perhaps if you said please I'd wiggle a little faster" he says 

"Excuse me! Who the hell do you think you are talking to me like that!" she snapped 

he glanced down at his name badge a moment "I think...I'm Zart. Or I'm reading his clothes. Fry! who am I?"

"Why?"

"This ladies asking who I think I am"

"I think you're a wizard man..."

"Ohhh so zart, or wizard you can choose madam," He told her

"I'm telling my father about this!"

 "You want a hot dog or not?"

I did my best not to laugh as he actually served them and they paid, I focused on my stocking

"Hi" I heard behind me making me turn and there she stood

Y/n, in her cheer uniform with her bag over her shoulder holding the strap, her pompom's leaking from the bag a little 

"Oh uhhhh -" I jumped doing my best not to panic or blush but where I jumped I knocked the display and knocked everything I just stocked onto the floor "Hi, how can I help you?"

"I'm sorry I didn't mean to spook you," she says coming and helping me pick everything up

"It's okay, Thank you"

"It's alright it was my fault."

"No no it's okay, How can I help?"

"I wanted a cherry slushie but it doesn't seem to work"

"Ohh Cherry?"

"Yes"

"Yeah the cherry handle is always a little funny" I explained so I headed over with her "What size?"

"Just a medium" 

"Okay" I smiled grabbing the medium cup and having a small argument with the handle for the machine with the cherry flavour but eventually I got it to actually come down and fill up the cup, once it was nice and full I added the lid and a straw "Here you go"

"Thank you very much" she smiled "You uhh you're in my physiology class right?"

"Yeah, I am,"

"I thought so, well I best go pay" she smiled

"No no uhh don't worry about it, it's on me"

"Awww that's so sweet, thank you" she smiled sipping her slushie "We'll I'll see you around"

"Yeah see you... be uhh be careful. Not to freeze your brain" I told her and she giggled 

"I'll try, thank you" she smiled giving me a little wave before she headed off out with the other girls 

I smiled so widely so so happy! I talked to her! 

"You gonna pay for it then?" Zart asks 

"Alright, I'm coming" I sighed 

I headed home through the darkness kicking the front door shut behind me and I saw my dad sat much as I saw him this morning reading at the table but the paper had now been replaced with a book dinner on the table already

"Hi" I smiled

"Hey kiddo, you're late tonight"

"yeah, we had a delivery at work and Zart was zonked so" I shrug unpacking my lunch bag into the kitchen and such like 

"When isn't he" he laughs "But you know my rules"

"No partaking" I laughed "Until I'm twenty-five"

"When you're brain is finished developing do what you want. not until"

"I know," I laughed "I'm pretty convinced Fry and Zart may have erased some brain cells" I laughed "Where's mum?"

"PTA meeting"

"Ohh okay" I shrug gathering a drink and my dinner to take upstairs "I'll be in my room"

"Hey! Not so fast. Physics" he says snapping his fingers at me 

I sighed getting it from my bag and handing it over he checked it often glaring at me 

"Not too bad, go on you're clean"

"Yes! Thanks, Dad" I smiled grabbed my stuff and bolted upstairs to my room I had dinner at my desk as I did my homework and any reading and such I needed to do all with my headphones in listening to the Heathers soundtrack thinking of my sweet little y/n, as soon as I was done with my work and dinner I climbed into bed and hugged my pillow "Ummmmm y/n" I smiled squeezing the pillow tightly giving it some little kisses 

I woke up fairly quickly which was unusual, but the reason was I was being beaten up! 

"Ahh what the hell!" I yelled kicking Sonya off me "The fuck are you doing in my room!" 

"Don't ever do that again!" she says before going to leave

"I don't even know what I did!"

"Don't talk to y/n"

"How do you know about that?"

"The rest of the cheer squad told me."

"You're a flag girl. You're not on the cheer squad"

"No! but I will be when either Lisa transfers or Teresa kicks Alexandra out. But even still you can't talk to the cheerleaders so don't!"

"I'll talk to whoever I bloody want to!"

"No, you can't! because now the track team is coming for your ass and the whole school knows what you did, you can't just talk to the cheerleaders and expect to be fine" she says 

"She spoke to me, we weren't at school what am I supposed to do?"

"you nod and be silently respectful," she says "I'm serious do not. do that again" she says heading off for her shower 

I sighed and turned over hugging my pillow. 

I sighed and eventually forced myself out of bed and got dressed grabbing my stuff and already putting a headphone in before I even went downstairs, 

"Hey somebodies grumpy this morning," My mother laughs as she served my dad his eggs 

"You alright kiddo, something up?" my dad asks as he immediately notices I was in a bad mood

"Ask Sonya" I snapped "Bye," I told them before heading out shoving my other headphone in and going to wait by the road and soon enough Sonya joined me 

"I'm-" she began

"You're not sorry. you're only saying it because Mum made you. if you don't mean it don't say it"

"Fine" she snapped as the bus arrived so we got on and I just ignored her leaning my head against the window and trying just to get myself through the day, Once we got to school I was again the last one off and I just headed through to my locker and grabbed my stuff for the day I noticed Thomas wasn't here but I didn't question it I just headed to my first class and immediately I sighed as I saw the chairs in a circle I found my seat and collapsed in it watching as everyone else headed in and found their seats too and soon enough the lesson began even if I wasn't at all listening and after a while, I saw a small bit of paper fall onto my desk, I picked it up before the teacher saw and unfolded It 

'You R Dead Newton' 

I glanced around and saw who wrote it as he was glaring at me 

Ben Smith, he's the smartest guy on the track team which is sort of like being the tallest drawf, while also being class clown the humour of the team as it were and no that's not a compliment, he and y/n used to date given that most of the track team dated the cheerleaders but they broke up last Christmas.

He sat in his seat four or five around from my own glaring at me in his track pants and blue and white letterman jacket with his name on the back. 

I just stuffed the note in my pocket zipped up my hoodie, putting up my hood and pulling the strings hard so I could basically hide myself inside. 

[aimlessarchery]

19. A memory of someone they don’t see anymore

// this one got away from me a little tbh lmao?? anyway the inspiration for this one is the description of the Deliverance Hideout in SOV which reads as follows:

"A vast underground cemetery carved out of the earth. Within, commoner's graves lie next to those of nobles and even Zofian royalty."

Clouds hung heavy and gray in the sky on the day that the Deliverance lost Zofia Castle. Rain drenched their clothes and turned the ground to mud beneath their boots as they fled into the woods, down into the damp crypt that was meant to serve select teams of scouts as a hiding place—now meant to shelter the entirety of their forces. Clive took the lead in the march, ushering them all to safety with his head bent low. He works beside his men to prepare the space for the night—counting supplies, stashing weaponry, clearing out ancient stones to make room for weapon racks and bedrolls. Now he stands beside Python, the two of them brushing cobwebs and dust out of empty loculi. (Python tries not to think too hard about whether these shelves had occupants before, or where those hypothetical occupants may be if they aren't here, where they were supposed to be laid to rest.) In the flickering light of torches and lanterns, the golden sun at the head of the Deliverance looks…sallow. For the first time since Python has joined the force, he sees doubt openly tarnish the face of the shining noble knight. "Was real nice of 'em to clear out and leave space here for our rations," Python says dryly, wiping a hand against his pants in a fruitless effort to clean it. "Our new neighbors might stink to high heaven, but at least they're polite." Clive offers him a small chuckle. "Your optimism is admirable. And a bit surprising, coming from you." Python's responding laugh echoes sharply off the catacomb's stone walls. "Oh, no. Lemme be clear: this is miserable, uh, Sir." The honorific is tacked on as an afterthought at the end, as always. "I'm pretty sure I wrenched my shoulder sticking an arrow in one of Slayde's little friends, this whole place stinks of death, and I've got mud crusted in some unmentionable places. I'm just looking forward to finally getting some rest." "Your resilience, then." Another chuckle. And there it is, that overly polite smile that makes Python want to squirm away. "Thank you for standing with us, Python. Truly." The air is stifling suddenly, filled with dust and noble intent. Python grimaces, returning his attention to the loculi in front of him. Names are embossed along the lower edge of the shelf, the lettering somewhat obscured by age. Around the edges, draconic hands cradle them together—holding them in the Mother's arms. He runs a gloved finger along the raised edges, tracing what remains there.

An--- F-r---us, Duke of Lu--n- R--v-, Sh-p--d's Son No matter the circumstances of our birth, Mila's blessed soil reclaims all of us in the end.

---

The catacombs lack the luxury of space required for any segregation of sleeping quarters. Bedrolls are laid practically from end-to-end of the inner sanctuary. Laid on his side, Python gets a distant view of the entrance. Clive leans against his lance—a pale, fixed figure in the dim light, staring out into the hall beyond. Python rolls over, turning his back to watch the rise and fall of Forsyth's breaths beside him in the darkness. Despite his complaints of exhaustion, he sleeps fitfully. The air is too stagnant. The stone is too cold beneath his side. When he closes his eyes, he dreams of the ceiling collapsing and burying them all as one.

[victorluvsalice]

-->It was finally back to the store! Where once again they all had to wait outside while I fiddled with the layout. XD At least this time it wasn't thunderstorming! Let me take you through all the changes I made --

A. As you can see, the major change I made was to replace all of the double-sided shelves with single-sided ones on either side of a large half-wall (with a glass half-wall trim on top to stop Sims trying to put plates or other objects up there) -- I was having some trouble getting everything to face the right way on the double-sided shelves, and I genuinely do believe this looks better. More like what you might actually SEE in a grocery store.

B. I also reduced the number of shelves overall slightly by rearranging the first "produce" aisle -- now when you walk in, you have Brazen Lotus's produce stands on one side, and the more traditional Get To Work refrigerated displays on the other holding various oversized crops on the other! Fewer slots to fill, and it means all the fruit and veg aren't bunched up together right next to the door.

C. I also added another refrigerated display next to the meat section -- this one is for fish, with Brazen Lotus's "Iced Fish Retail Fridge" (which requires her mod to allow fish and herbs to be placed in a retail fridge) in the bottom section! (I tried putting it on a counter, but it looked kinda weird and wouldn't slot correctly -- and then I discovered it fit near-perfectly into the bottom of the regular refrigerated display and went with that! It doesn't fit so nicely into the top bit, so fresh fish will be placed there to be bought directly.)

D. Along with that, I added the fossil displays from @somecreativecc as "endcaps" for the aisles, as the perfume bottles Victor can make from Simsonian Library's "Perfumery" mod fit on them, and they were the best-looking shelves I had for the purpose. *shrug* If anyone can suggest anything better, please let me know!

E. I also started trying out some "color-coding" on the SrslySims consignment shelves to try and see at a glance what should go where -- like, the shelf with Smiler's synthetic food tablets and herbalism potions from Simsonian Library's "Apothecary" mod is white because that's the "pharmacy" section, and the shelf with the canned green beans and green peas is bright green to represent "veggies."

F. Oh, and you may notice that I've started spacing out the various items on each individual shelf a lot more, so I'm not trying to cram multiple products onto one single shelf in any particular display and wondering how I'm going to fill the others. . .now, one display can hold a shelf of canned green beans, a shelf of canned green peas, and the boxed versions of said products on the bottom. Makes my life easier and makes filling up this grocery store a hell of a lot faster!

-->Okay -- once THAT was all done, it was time for the gang to spread out and get to work! And everybody had their specific jobs:

Smiler: Since we now had a fish fridge, I sent Smiler down to the fishing spot behind the store to angle for some big catches to fill it up! They managed to land a pufferfish and a tilapia to display above the fridge, and a betta to put in it -- it's a start!

Alice: Her thing today was bulk food processing and canning -- specifically, I had her make some more canned green beans and green peas to fill in a couple of gaps on the shelves, then move onto making jars of meat substitute for the discerning vegetarians who may come by. Gotta have something for everyone, after all! :)

Victor: Victor started out making perfumes, in "Focused" (bluebell) and "Playful" (daisy) scents, which (along with another bottle of the deodorizing scent) got him to level 2 of the Perfumery skill and allowed him to make "Happy" and "Energizing" scents if he so wished. However, his REAL job was to head upstairs and start Copypastoing everything that could be Copypastoed. XD Because while I DO actually want them to make some of the stuff they sell themselves, I am not above using Victor's magic to make the process easier on them and me. Victor's such a skilled spellcaster now that he's basically in no danger of the spell failing, even when he gets to a pretty heavily charged state -- and hey, I found out during this Copypasto spree that he can in fact copy the plates of raw meat Alice brings back from her hunts! So THAT is going to be freaking handy! :D

[stitchthesewords]

Finally had time to sit down and red The Royals Quests, and oh boy did I love it.

A few thoughts and theories I had along the way:

I love how Mumbo and Scar bicker in this AU. You can tell that they have known each other forever, and that they 1) care about each other 2) know exactly how annoying (affectionate) the other can be. They are like an old married couple and I love that for them so so much.

Special shoutout to Mumbo's ears reacting to his emotions. It's just so good. I can't decide if I hope he knows about it, or if I hope he is completely oblivious.

Having a lot of fun trying to piece together the mystery of Grian's past. The references to him feeling fresh air under his wings for the first time and not being able to fly nearly as much as he would have liked in the cave seems self-explanatory, but there being several references to him keeping his wings tugged closely to his back makes me wonder if there might be more to it.

The reveal that Grian isn't a "proper" Avian has me even more curious. Could it be a Watcher!Grian thing where he is from a colony of Watchers pretending to be/believing themselves to be Avians? Or is he perhaps from a parallel universe? I am eyeing all of this very much.

The fact that no one seemed to notice before Impulse pointed it out too. I wonder if it's some kind of misdirection magic that is keeping people from paying too close attention to him? And in that case, what makes Impulse immune to it? In short: worldbuilding good, brain go brrrrrr.

"Grian had come to learn that Scar kept that shelving unit there for the sole purpose of creating a shadowy space for Mumbo to retreat to" Also? I adore this line. Obviously, it's for vampire reasons, but I also love that Scar was like "Gotta get my husband bestie a dark corner to stand in and look menacing. It'll add to the aesthetic of the place, and the dramatics of our not-so-secret resistance meetings." Just. Gotta love him.

I love how it's like. Here is a fantasy world of magic and mystery. And also there's guns.

14/10 A++ highly recommend. Really, really enjoying the Rift AU a lot :D

Thank you for reading royal quests!! It’s nice that the king arc has wrapped up so now I don’t have to worry about them doing something and contradicting what I had planned lol.

I too love how Scar and Mumbo bicker in this. What’s funny is I honestly don’t think they bicker super often – its just that there is a lot to bicker about rn for them lol. But also yeeees – given how long they’ve been on HC together, I wanted to reflect that by having their relationship be pretty long [Relatedly, Bdubs and Etho have had a VERY long relationship]. They ARE like an old married couple and frankly everyone who sees them is shocked they aren’t married – I know Grian is sort of dealing with that confusion now.

ALSO!!!! I *LOVE* WIGGLING EARS DSKLAGSDKL. I think Mumbo’s ears are longer and swivel around and THAT is left over from my skyrim fanfiction days bc I headcanon that the skyrim elves can move their ears around. Scar's ears are much shorter so they don’t move. I also definitely think Mumbo USED to be oblivious to it but unfortunately the man’s been alive for centuries and I can’t imagine no one has pointed it out to him. Unless.

Hehehehehehehehehehe. Obviously I can’t reveal too too much about Grian’s past since, you know, spoilers, but I will tell you this – you are on the right track. I will tell you this in relation to the watcher thing – its NOT the watchers, actually. 👀👀I used to have rift AU tagged as Watcher Grian but I changed it early on because I decided to do something…different. With it. Hehehe. I definitely will be doing something with the watchers at SOME point, but not necessarily in this au – I think they’re more like an ancient religion no one really follows anymore. BUT you do have me thinking about Watchers-Pretending-To-Be-Human hm hm hm that WOULD work for one of my AU ideas hehehehe

Is it misdirection or is it obliviousness? Who knows. But also Impulse has some interesting stuff going on with himself too so he could totally be immune to it 👀 Or is it just that Scar and Mumbo have been too busy with bigger fish to fry to notice their new avian friend looks decidedly different from how Avians are supposed to. Hm hm hm.

YEEEEEEEEEEEEES Scar being like ‘Mumbo needs Shadows for his magic to work obviously regular shadows are boring I need to give my vampire bestie the best shadows” feels like such a Scar thing to do tbh. The aesthetics, the menace factor, the dramatics of it all. But also the fact that he thought about Mumbo and designed a part of his office with Mumbo in mind sfkjgfj I love them. There’s definitely like a light aimed at making the shadow be really strong.

You know the old joke of like ‘harry potter would’ve been shorter if he had a gun’ I disagree. It would have made things EVEN MORE COMPLICATED LGFKWDFH think about it. Magic evolving to deal with guns. Bullet Time/matrix-y bullet things. Magic infused bullets. But also I think the guns in rift au aren’t proper modern guns. They’re slow, a little clunky – think like guns of the late 1800s. Cowboy guns. Bullets are expensive, a little hard to come by, and King Ren is limiting the supply of them in an attempt to bottleneck Scar and Mumbo on top of that. I love fantasy guns.

Thank yoooooooooooooou!!! It means the world to me that people like rift au.

[chuuyrr]

Can I request a second time?- if I can't just ignore this.

Baby! scarlet enrolling and first day in bungou preschools. Yk how in the wan! there was a preschool. Dazai the teacher the others preschoolers.

At first, she ignored everyone in school incuding the staff and principal fukuzawa- but after she found out that the school she was in was full of gifted with abilities she had fun with her new school.

scarlet witch! baby fushiguro! reader enrolls at bungo stray dogs preschool

jujutsu kaisen x reader x bungou stray dogs

masterlist of the series

╰➤ CW(s): bsd wan w/ scarlet witch! baby fushiguro! reader content (scenario + headcanons), possible spoilers for bungou stray dogs, mentions of scarlet witch's powers, and major themes of fluff,

╰➤ PAIRING(s): platonic! bungou stray dogs x reader, dad! gojo satoru x child! reader

hi there, kie :D there isn't really a limit when it comes to requesting, so as long as requests are open, you can request as many as you like! also, thank you so much for requesting and being patient, as well as for tagging me on where i can read bsd wan!! been needing free therapy, but nevermind that, this ain't abt me :P anyway, this is will be the first time im writing for bsd wan, enjoy reading!! ♡

before you read: this is a jjk x bsd crossover, if you're new and interested about knowing more, kindly check the masterlist of the oneshot series above, as well as my pinned post to see what i write about and such!!

bsd scenario !

"everyone, gather around!"

the preschoolers instantly gathered as per instructed by their dazai-sensei, the junior caretaker of the nursery they each go to. 

"what is it, dazai-sensei?" atsushi was the first one to ask, "are we getting ice cream?"

"are we having juice for lunch?" the other preschoolers held hopeful gazes as kenji inquired next.

"oh, no, no, no." dazai shook his head, softly chuckling, causing the kids to make a sad noise, but that changed when he said, "someone new will be joining us from now on!"

the brunet took a step back and motioned to you, who had been standing behind him since earlier. as their dazai-sensei introduced you, all of the children looked at you with interest and curiosity. you, too, were dressed in the nursery uniform, but yours was scarlet, and you were wearing black shorts, knee-high socks, and school shoes.

"everyone, meet fushiguro [name]-chan!" dazai happily introduced you.

"wah! a new kid!" atsushi exclaimed excitedly along with the other children.

as you stood still, you were inundated with greetings such as friendly "hi's" and "hello's".

"nice to meet you, [name]-chan!" kenji extended his hand for you to shake, but much to his and everyone's dismay, you simply stared at him and his hand, blinking as you maintained a stoic expression; it reminded them of akutagawa as well.

"e-eh? what's wrong [name]-chan? don't you wanna shake kenji-kun's hand?" dazai looked at you with concern, scratching his chin. you simply stared back before averting your gaze, shaking your head 'no' and fiddling with the hem of your nursery uniform.

"[name]-chan seems like a shy kid." chuuya, the older kid of the group, pointed out something that all of the other kids agreed on.

"hmm, it's okay! you don't have to shake my hand if you don't want to!" kenji smiled at you either way as he drew back his hand.

"do you wanna play with us instead, [name]-chan?" atsushi offered, showing you a ball he, kunikida, ranpo, and kyouka had planned to play with before you and dazai arrived.

you simply stared before shaking your head, earning a frown from him and the rest of the kids. after their attempts to get you to talk and play with them, you left to read a storybook from the shelves by yourself in a corner.

"she's not mute, is she, dazai-sensei?" akutagawa tugged on the apron of the caretaker before pointing at you.

"she hasn't said a word since she got here." kyouka said in addition, "is she okay?"

kunikida stated before folding his arms across his chest, "she's kind of like ranpo-kun when he first came here."

"[name]-chan can speak, i assure you. she just spoke to her father a little while ago," dazai replied to the children, recalling how you and gojo said your goodbyes before he left you with him. the brunet's frown deepened as he muttered so quietly that the kids barely heard him. "but when gojo-kun said [name]-chan has trouble with kids her age, i didn't expect it to be this serious."

dazai remembered being approached by gojo satoru, a close friend of his who he likes to think is a "variant" of him due to how similar they are, before you were enrolled and brought to the bungo stray dogs nursery. according to gojo, you are a child he has had custody of for a long time. although you had no problems with gojo, your older brother, and the rest of your family-figures, you become an entirely different person around kids your age, which is quite concerning because you need to interact in order to improve your social interaction with other people and independence.

"then, why isn't she talking or playing with us?" kyouka tipped her head to the side. "does she not like us?"

"what? no! that isn't the case at all. [name]-chan just needs some time adjusting. this is her first preschool, that's all." dazai assured them all with a smile. "which is why i need all of your help. i want you all to be nice to [name]-chan and make her feel like she's just at home, okay?"

"okay, dazai-sensei!" they all chimed.

as time passed, you continued to ignore the other kids, and not just the other kids, but all of the nursery staff, including the principal fukuzawa himself, despite the fact that everyone adored him. when you had to sit with them, you simply sat in the corner or remained completely silent.

the poor kids thought they were talking to a wall around you and almost thought you were mute because you just stared and shook your head 'no' the majority of the time they initiated to do something with you. 

"how's [name]?" yosano, one of the caretakers of the nursery, approached dazai to see him frowning as he stared at you, who was simply sitting on a swing all by yourself while the others were playing in groups of twos and threes. apparently, everyone, including you, was outside in the playground.

"still no luck, yosano-sensei." dazai sighed and ran his fingers through his brown hair.

"i see. the principal is concerned. he hasn't met a kid like [name] before." yosano shook her head, "did her father tell you anything that could help us help her?"

"all gojo-kun said is that she has difficulty mingling with other kids her age; he doesn't know why, but [name] just tells him she doesn't like them," dazai explained briefly.

"there must be a reason." yosano's gaze shifted towards you afterwards before shaking her head.

you were sitting alone on a swing, enjoying the calmness of the wind and the peace of being alone, still ignoring everyone else, when a ball literally flew towards you.

"[NAME]-CHAN!! WATCH OUT!!"

just as you panickedly raised your head in the direction of the voice. when you saw how close the ball was to you, you immediately closed your eyes, deciding to accept your fate instead, but nothing happened. the impact of the ball striking you never arrived. you slowly opened your eyes, puzzled, and found yourself in shock. a white tiger cub was right in front of you, and riding on top of him was that akutagawa-kid, with black tendrils shooting out from his back, completely slicing up the ball intended to hit you.

"akutagawa and atsushi worked together to save [name]-chan?!" the kids were in awe, knowing how the two don't get along very well, and so were dazai and yosano as they ran to get you were just as surprised, but paused to see you interact with the children for the first time (cue yosano pulling dazai by the collar to prevent him for intervening).

"[name]-chan, are you okay?" atsushi, who had just transformed into a white tiger cub, inquired, turning his head to face you only to become concerned. "ahh! did you get hurt?!"

"you have powers too?" you spoke to them for the first time, blinking as tears welled up in your eyes. "you saved me with them too.."

"of course we did. all of us have abilities. dazai-sensei is worried about you, you know." akutagawa scoffed, his gaze averted, but his tone of voice wasn't as harsh. his voice was indeed soft-spoken, as evidenced by the way his next words rolled off quietly. "you shouldn't make him even more worried with you getting hurt."

"h-hey, why are you crying?" chuuya, the older kid, can't help but feel empathy when he sees you, a kid younger than him and the rest of the kids, crying.

you shook your head, frowning. "i didn't know you guys were like me too."

"you're a gifted too, [name]-chan?" kyouka asked, eyes widening.

"mhm," you nodded, a small smile on your lips, as you showed them your hands, which were covered in sanguine red vapors that trailed from your fingertips, eliciting looks of awe from them.

"i have wiggly-woos magic." you said while allowing your red psionics to carry leaves that had fallen from a nearby tree and magically swirl them around you and everyone as you made yourself levitate in mid-air, but you quickly dissipated your chaos magic as you hung your head and landed back on your feet. "kids told me i was weird because of my powers. they think i'm a monster for seeing things that aren't there too."

"what? but, you're so cool!" chuuya exclaimed, his eyes lighting up with interest. "your ability is kind of like mine too! see? see!" as a similar red glow surrounded him, the older kid used his gravity manipulation ability to make himself stick to a branch upside down.

"i agree with chuuya-kun, [name]-chan!" atsushi nodded as turned back into his human-form, "you're not a monster! you're special just like all of us!"

when everyone praised and asked your abilities, you realized you had finally found people who would not judge you, but rather accept you for who and what you truly are, and you had also found a place to belong.

"[name]-chan, show us your magic again!!"

"how do you twitch your fingers like that?"

"can you make me float too?!"

is this why gojo enrolled you to this preschool? to show you how you weren't alone? it must be fate you think as a smile—a genuine smile—had finally broke through your face.

bsd headcanons !

you had finally stepped out of your comfort zone after nearly being hit by a ball while kunikida, ranpo, and atsushi were playing and discovering that everyone has powers like you. you weren't as quiet and ignorant as before, and atsushi and everyone else, including dazai and the rest of the nursery staff, got to see a whole new side of you—the real you.

you were a sweet and bubbly child who always smiled, laughed, and talked a lot. you were a little chaotic, especially with how you liked to zoom and teleport with your chaos magic, but they adored you, your true self. you were enjoyable to be around, just as you found them fun to be with.

you became very close to chuuya, with atsushi coming in second. chuuya was amazed by how similar your and his abilities were. athough dazai and the children thought it was strange for him to be so nice, it did reassure them that the menace older kid does have a kind heart. you and chuuya enjoy demonstrating each other's abilities, and you even made the room anti-gravity once by combining both of your abilities.

atsushi was an absolute sweetheart, always chatting with you and making you feel included by constantly inviting you to join him, kyouka, ranpo, kenji, and kunikida. you and ranpo enjoy reading mystery storybooks; you and kenji love bonding over food and napping together; you and kunikida enjoy drawing; you and kyouka like making animal cut-outs and origamis; and you and atsushi enjoy bonding over odasaku man and stuffies and playing ball with the others.

you might think of naomi and junichiro as a strange sibling pair, but they're nice. naomi enjoys braiding and styling your hair, or at least tries to, but it's all good because you do the same with hers. junichiro enjoys seeing his sister get along with you because naomi is constantly clinging to him. he watches out for you two, making sure you and naomi don't trip while playing.

you found akutagawa difficult to be around, but he's nice to you. at least he's nicer to you than he is to atsushi; he was the one who saved you earlier from being hit by the ball, yanking atsushi along with him to get to you faster. he may not appear to care about you, but he does.

because motojiro is quite chaotic, you actually pair up quite well with him. he enjoys causing havoc with his lemon bombs, and you enjoy causing havoc with your wiggly-woos. you also found higuchi and tachihara fun to play with and talk with, just like you did with atsushi and his friends.

at the end of the day, you were able to make very good progress, and dazai and staff loved to see it, as well for gojo to hear it.

ending / bonus bsd scenario !

after spending hours at the preschool, it was time for you and the children to be picked up by your parents and return home, and as gojo was on his way to get you after finishing his work at jujutsu tech, he couldn't help but smile from afar as he saw you smile and wave goodbye to the other children as they were picked up by their own parent or guardian.

"kikufuku!" gojo yelled and ran up to you, to which you quickly responded by meeting him in the middle and leaving dazai's side. the limitless sorcerer picked you into his arms, twirling you in the air for a few moments before kissing your forehead. "how was your first day?"

"it was fun! i made tons of friends!" you giggled as you wrapped your tiny arms around gojo's neck.

"really? you did?!" he gasped softly.

"indeed, [name]-chan has, gojo-kun." dazai said as he sauntered towards you two, smiling. "she and the kids did a lot of playing and talking today."

"i wanna go here tomorrow again, and again, and again!" you drew away to throw your hands in the air to exaggerate your desire. "i like it here, no, i love it here already!"

gojo is extremely proud of you. you told him not long ago that you didn't want to go to bungo stray dogs preschool and that you didn't want him to leave you there. not only were you able to mingle and make friends with the kids, but seeing you happy and be genuine yourself was all gojo could ask for.

it was more than enough for him.

[kakubun]

what if you were their personal helper?

a/n: im biased on all of these because basically you're special to them in a type of way

part 2

warnings: chapter 189-206 spoilers‼‼, suggestive, violence mentions

sanzu

you would be his personal cook that mikey assigned

you really worked hard at making the best dishes for sanzu (1. 50/50 chance of getting killed because you might never know with his pill popping ass and 2. you don't want to purposely mess up good ingredients)

sanzu though, really loves your dishes

he would say horrendous compliments like how he was about to have an orgasm biting into the steak minutes ago (rindou looks up at him from his laptop in disgust while ran scoffs in amusement)

ran suggested to maybe gift you something or pay a visit to whoever is cooking his meals and damn well sanzu was thrilled to hear that idea and was ready to work on it

(the haitani brothers thought the same, that you were probably going to shit your pants if bonten's number 2 suddenly appeared right beside you out of nowhere)

the very next day, his preffered time of lunch was much more later than the others so it's pretty normal for the others to not see him at the table and knowing that he's doing his own business

but this is completely different than what he usually does, he's looking for you! and there you were, in the flesh and busy preparing his meal

you look rather panicked, oh how many guesses he had. it was near his lunch time, you cooked the wrong meal, you're panicking about the slighest things or you thought you were doing it wrong

turns out you just wanted to cut the right size of tomatoes because you cut one ridiculously large chunk so you huffed and picked another tomato and nearly laughed at your stupidity

well sanzu was correct in some ways but you were just minutes away in finishing so he watched

with every second he stepped closer and the closer he got which was just right over your shoulder, you squeled because 1) creepy and 2) his breath was tickling your neck that you just had to make noise

you grabbed your wrist and your finger bled, in the state of suprise you accidently cut your thumb, luckily it was only a little so you rushed to the sink to wash it off

sanzu had a smile on his face, oh woops accidently shocked a poor person by breathing on them so the best he could do was offering a bandaid that was in his pocket

you glanced at his arm and saw the bonten tattoo inked on it so your eyes lit up in fear in why a bonten member is up infront of you

you gulped and he couldn't help but giggle to how terrified you looked and he twirled the plate that his food on it

"you're almost finished with my food, huh? quickly, you have a few seconds" you looked at him again but with genuine curiousity and suprise that said "sanzu haruchiyo? what is he doing here?"

your thoughts swirled in your head in chaos, finishing up his food and the waiter that were to take his food entered the kitchen

he froze in the doorway, recognizing the feared bonten 2 and sanzu asked him to go away by simply motioning it with his hand as well as adding in a "if you don't go, i'll kill you" by doing a slashing motion across his neck, you did not know how fast the waiter walked out of there

sanzu carried his plate towards the table your partners and you ate at and sat there, tilting his head when you stayed at the same spot

"sit here, i wanna talk" shitting your pants is a understatement, dying should be the right term

but no worries when you sat down, he smiled again with his eyes closed (though you're not sure what kind of smile was this, his rare ones? because if it is then you can make it out of here without being out in a grave)

let's just say he was interested in you and he said quite some nice words to you, this won't be the first time he'll crash into your life and have moments of talking to you after all, you're his cook right?

you're just lucky enough when he decides that you're one of the few pieces he'll cherish in his life, one he wouldn't kill but respect deeply and stick around with

kokonoi

you were his respectable assistant that deals with errands, well a more better term is a spy

you listened to conversations about bonten in the dark and sneak off to inform the others, first of all koko of course

your relationship between him was proffesional and all, reporting about what bonten enemies have said, nod and leave

but there was a time where he finally got to know you a bit better

you were a bit later than the time he asked for you to come to his office after your work, about 10 minutes atleast and he raised his eyebrow at you when you slipped into his office out of breath but quickly regain it as to not piss him off any further

"sorry sir, i got attacked" attacked you say? he got up from his seat, slowly approacing you and you sweat

overall his demeanor was cocky and all but you've never seen a scary side so supposingly it's okay for you to not feel threatened but would he really be angry at you for getting attacked?

"i don't see any bruises on you, did you really get attacked?" that sly grin showcased itself, he felt the taste of a lie coming but it didn't when you spoke up again

"i fought back sir, with this." you pulled out the staff, pressing the button to open it and twirled it over for him to see

it was the staff he gave, well actually showed off when he opened the weapons room, telling you to atleast get a weapon to defend yourself, if you can even though (he halfly joked at the end with his tongue out)

you told him that it was the gang that was still gaining these "leaks and secrets" or so to speak, are the ones rindou falsely put out in the open and the gang planned to go to one of the secret bases that bonten usually went to

besides what you say is necessary information but he circled around you in silence and decided to try to hit your head but you smack his hand away with the staff

he went for your neck but you swiftly wack the staff into his waist and he groaned, impressed

he was about to say something but sanzu interrupted by opening the door without knocking and almost bumped koko with the door

"heheh sorry, can i borrow your assistant, come come~" sanzu sung out but koko shooed him away, wanting some time to talk to you but pink crazed bastard wanted to talk to you so he shut the door on him and yelled at him to go away for a moment

after that day, more people seem to recognize and fought with you

it would pretty ironic if koko were to be the one ordering them to attack you

" i wanna see you fight more" whatever he says, you just hope it actually isn't him sending mofos to attack you because that would be a d!ck move

but he didn't, one of the bonten members revealed that a little spy is watching them from above like the idiots they were that they bumbled out their secrets for the spy to hear (guess who)

so he rewards you, after the hell you went through, you better be gifted

extra!!:

"may i measure you?" you looked back at the person in shock as they smiled warmly at you and you suspiciously glared at them, reaching slowly for your staff.

"sir kokonoi has asked to measure you." they went to stretch out the measuring tape and held it around your waist, you hesitated on holding up your shirt because of how ticklish and feathery their fingers were. this was all too sudden but you go along with it.

while you twist your shirt up, they placed a note in your back pocket and you questioned on why did they do that, you reached it while they're measuring your legs.

"i'll send someone in to measure your size for your clothing, do you also want lingerie to be part of your gift too?~" the note said and you nearly stumbled into the tailor when you tried rereading it all over again.

"what colour do you want? do you want a matching set?" "no!!"

(koko's probably pissing himself right now, trying to imagine your panicky expression, laughing like a maniac in his office)

ran

you worked as his personal maid and he admired how careful you were

you were pretty noticeable since you took your time on one thing at a time like dusting off shelves and cupboards for a long moment or scrubbing away at the dirt in the plate that stuck too long there (i mean it's reasonable but you stressed over it for a few minutes)

he approached at some times to check on you and he would smile sadistically at times when you look at him like a deer in headlights, wondering what you did wrong to make him approach you himself

he just wanted to praise and point out some of your habits which you rubbed your neck to and nodded to do better next time

it also gave him a chance to see your stretched arm and your hands, especially your knuckles more better than afar (not in a creepy way)

your knuckles were deep red and would have cuts over it and he would leave at that but it got too much for him whenever he came to you and it kept getting worse

he popped the question when you moved his flowers into a pot to sit in the sun when your hands were all bandaged up

"why has the condition of your hands worsen everytime i come to you?" so he did notice, you sighed and told him the truth while you rubbed your bandaged knuckles

"people are picking on me so hitting their faces makes my knuckles hurt and become ugly each time i return back here" he was suprised that you even used your fists and he held your hands and spoke softly

"you didn't use the baton i gave you?" you feel yourself burn, you had to pull away from him and you wanted to jog off into the sun but you akwardly shrugged instead

"i'm a lot more used to using fists to fight plus i.. might have hit my face with the baton once" his laugh was sugary sweet, the rarest you've ever heard but he was laughing at your mistake so you bit your tongue and fumed, going back to arranging his flowers (that he's probably allergic to but keeps them around cause they're pretty💀)

he patted your shoulder, casually correcting himself that it was cute that atleast you did try to use the baton that he lended to you

"i'll teach you, every evening at around 4, i'll train you to use the baton so it's less work for your fists and more for your baton." you responded that mikey had his meal around that time and you had to clean the table cloth after he eats, shyly you admit that he tends to be a little messy when eating

ran smiled, stuffing his hands into his pockets and going off after insulting you one last time

"i'm impressed that you're more careful with the table cloth than your own hands" and that ends the evening with you screaming into your hands because of how frustating, ran haitani bonten executive was

extra!!:

"now i really need you to be honest with me, how do you even fight with your fists?" "your brother teaches me how to break their limbs but i accidently graze the floor sometimes because of how tough the enemy is"

well that was pretty shocking, he looks at you with suprise in his eyes, you also looked at him suprised, you just didn't know how expressive he was and you're finding out about them because of these 4pm sessions.

"doesn't he have a maid that helps him out?" "he says i make great coffee" ran grumbled that you shouldn't even serve a fucker who drinks coffee in the first place and you couldn't help laughing. in exchange for the love of coffee, rindou might as well train you. he's not blind, he sees the bruises on your hands when you return back to the headquarters.

(and to maybe trigger ran a little since he was the one mainly teaching reader his fighting style and not ran and his lame ass baton and he just stole his maid for a few seconds, might as well train them as a reward)

"show me a better compliment and i might stop serving him" "you're good with your hands" you smirked and got up and tapped his shoulders with the baton, teasing him into giving you more compliments

"shut it now before i use my hands to shut you up" "you may at anytime" and he did, now you can imagine what he did lol