#you don't mess with his raccoons.

[listenupcupcakes]

Huh? The raccoons are back to normal already? Did I fuck up my spell or something- AHHH AN EAGLE-

I HAVE WINGS!

I AM GOING TO KILL YOU!

[pseudowho]

"Why the fuck...does this vacuum cleaner smell like cheese?"

Kento was yet to arrive home, and you saw this as only a blessing for him. Staring down the barrel of the hoover, the house finally hushed from the sounds of rowdy children, you wore your finest holey tank top, and pyjama shorts which covered asscheek, pussy and belly (but only ever two at a time, at any given time).

Your antiperspirant didn't have the same stamina as you. You swore as you trod barefoot on Lego, staggering and cussing like a mad old witch.

Bra-less, and without the time to scout the laundry pile for underwear, you hoovered crumbs and war-detritus like a skrunkly raccoon; hungry, cross, and in need of a shower. Your mind was lost, running between the alleyways of your chore-list, when the door clicked open, and closed.

You vacuumed, and vacuumed, not even looking up as you heard the rhythmic tack, tack, tack of his brown Oxfords approaching.

"There she is."

As if you were the Venus de Milo.

You grunted, lifting the rug and picking up an abandoned, squashed peach with an ugh! and cursed your sleeping offspring. You stood up with a huff, blowing sweaty hairs off your face, your breasts swinging independently of you.

"How's my darling wife?"

Pristine as ever, crisp and ironed and with the faintest tang of sweat and cologne, you wondered if Kento would ever arrive home looking like he'd been intimately acquainted with a trash can. The day had not yet come. Whiskey-deep eyes drank you in, parched.

Your heart ached with how handsome he looked, and how pathetically mismatched you were against him.

"Kento. You're home."

"Mmmm."

Either in confirmation, or having seen something delicious; you weren't sure. You suspected the latter. You scoffed as his hands reached out to slip round your raggedy waist, and you scoffed, and he shushed you, and you berated him, and he mumbled sweet nothings into your neck until you were finally folded into him, his missing ingredient.

And how he looked at you, as if you'd hung the stars and orchestrated the seasons.

You breathed him in, lax against the brick-wall solidity of him. You could have cried.

You still had sloppy peach remnants in your hand as Kento kissed you, soft and mellow and longing. You huffed against his lips.

"Kento, I am a fucking mess--"

"You're lovely--"

"--I absolutely am not--"

"--ravishing--"

"--you're ridiculous--"

"--gorgeous--"

"You're an idiot."

"I've missed you."

"God, I've missed you too. So much. You don't even know."

"I'm sure I do."

You sighed, nuzzling your face into the hard planes of Kento's collarbones, growling away a day of frustration. His chuckles rumbled up, tickling your nose. You rested your cheek against Kento's chest, your weariness bone-deep, having had no agency over your body or your time since dawn.

You surveyed the carnage together in silence; toys strewn as if the bodies of soldiers, abandoned laundry with stains of suspect aetiology, congealed meals, lovingly prepared and never eaten. You felt the weight of the day threaten to overwhelm you, feeling the panic and anxiety climbing, tidal waves on your waterline--

"Sit down. I'll make you a cup of tea."

The floodgates almost opened. "I can't do that-- you've had a long day-- so much to do--"

"And, I'll do it."

"No you won't, I--"

"Sit down. And I'll make you a cup of tea."

A single, slow kiss to your sweaty forehead. You sniffled, no strength left for another battle. You offered paltry smiling complaints as Kento nuzzled your hair, gripping you closer, growling into your neck as you squeaked and laughed.

You felt the familiar heavy press and twitch of his cock against you, and he groaned as you squirmed in his grasp, giggling. You caught his eye, as he twinkled down at you, pressing one slow kiss to your lips, possessive and full of promise.

"...I'm not apologising for anything. You look incredible."

"Ridiculous man, Nanami Kento."

[miss-oranje-disco-dancer]

start me up

pairing: leon x reader

tags/cws: cumming from nipple stim, thigh job, switch leon?, p in v, just the tip!!

summary: it's pwp

a/n: div creds to @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

wc: 1.5k

tags: @vaaaaaiolet @porcelainseashore @leonfucker3000 @rigorwhoring @withonly-sweetheart

You find out by accident. You're just messing around with Leon who's half-naked because he refuses to wear a shirt to bed even when it's cold outside.

"I'm always hot," he says with a wink.

His jokes may be stupid, but he's entirely correct — he is incredibly hot, all the fucking time.

You find yourself running your hands along his bare skin, innocently tracing shapes with your fingertips.

"What's the point of men having nipples if they can't even use them for anything?" you ask as your hands make their way over his chest.

"How should I know?"

There's something different about his voice, yet so familiar. His breath hitches and his body twitches at the sensation, but he arches towards your touch, not away from it. 

"Would you cut that out?" he asks.

You stop, worried you've crossed a line, but then you see the obvious bulge in his sweatpants.

"Why do you want me to stop?" you ask, with a knowing grin.

"Because, like you said… no reason to touch 'em…" he trails off, refusing to make eye-contact.

He's a better liar than this. He's barely even trying. Nevermind the Raccoon City incident cover-up, he kept your surprise party a secret for weeks, led you around the mall for hours so your friends could set up, and you had zero clue. That takes real skill. 

"So, this just came out of nowhere?" You ask, as you grab his hard cock through his pants.

You catch him off guard, making him groan.

"Maybe it did," he says.

"Maybe it didn't," you insist.

When your hands traverse his chest, testing the waters, you look him in the eyes to make sure he's okay with this. He gives you an almost imperceptible nod — the reluctant go-ahead. He wants you to do it again, but he doesn't want to admit it. 

Before you can resume your little experiment, he grabs your cheeks and pulls you towards him, distracts you for a moment with a fervent kiss. His attempts to regain control are in vain. You don't have to think to kiss him, it's second nature, so your mouth doesn't leave his until you decide to take your lips lower. You work your way down his neck, his collarbone, his shoulders, chest, and when your open-mouthed kisses reach their desired location — his supposedly-useless nipples — he whimpers. You can tell it's an attempt to hold back a moan, but the sound only comes out more desperate.

Effectively straddling his lap now as he lies on his back, you can feel him shamelessly bucking his hips up, trying to get some friction, some attention where he really wants it. You don't stop him, but you don't move your attention away from his nipples either. You switch back and forth between the two, flicking your tongue over one and your thumb over the other.

His breath quickens, as does his heartbeat, and he grips the bed sheets beneath him in lieu of touching you, like he's trying to avoid alerting you to the fact that he's so close. As if he could get away with cumming in his pants without you noticing.

Instead of teasing him, knowing he'll push you away and you won't get what you want, which is to see his head tipped back in pleasure as he moans your name, you ever-so-slightly reciprocate the movement of your hips against his.

His tone is urgent when he all but screams, "fuck fuck fuck". He can't decide if it's worth the embarrassment to let himself go over the edge but it's too late to make the choice not to. You do him the favor of palming him through his sweats as he cums, earning a breathy 'thank you' from Leon.

Once he regains his composure, he flips you onto your back, dips his head between your thighs, and makes you cum almost as quickly as he did. The image of him cumming in his pants brings you over the edge then as well as every time you touch yourself in the next week or so. 

So, of course, when you're in a similar position, half-naked and in bed (except this time you're already making out, he's already hard), you say, "we should try that thing again."

You flick one of his nipples to let him know which "thing" you're talking about.

"No," he mumbles into your, mouth, still kissing you, "I wanna fuck you this time."

"What if we compromise?"

"What's your idea of compromise?"

"You can fuck me, but not my pussy."

"Your mouth?" he asks, looking a bit boyish in his excitement.

"Nope."

"Your ass?" He looks surprised, yet not offended by the idea.

"No, Leon, you get to fuck my thighs."

At first, he looks disappointed, but then he grips the flesh of your thighs, and smiles. "They are nice," he muses as he runs his palms over your soft skin.

He's already under your spell, desperate for anything you're willing to give him. Sure, your thighs might not be the same as your cunt, but compared to his hand, your thighs feel like heaven when he slides his cock between them.

You insisted upon lubing him up lest he chafe your thighs with his thrusts. You lock eyes as he lifts your legs up, and you both know he's not going to last long.

He's a mess – rambling incoherently, hips stuttering, eyes screwed shut, knowing that one look at you equals an instant orgasm. But he can't resist. You lock eyes as he shoots ropes of white from your belly button to your chin. You wonder if there's a world record for this.

His cheeks are bright red when his eyes finally meet yours again.

"That was the hottest fucking thing, like ever," you say, much to his surprise. And you mean it wholeheartedly.

"Seriously?" he asks.

"Yeah, I might even let you fuck me as a reward."

Or at least that's what you say. But what you really mean is: I might need you to fuck me because you made me unbearably aroused.

One thing that Leon excels at is getting hard at a moment's notice. It's like how some people can cry on command – Leon can pop a boner just by willing himself to do so.

There's a caveat, of course. "But, just the tip," you say.

"You really only want just the tip?" he asks, teasingly, an attempt to turn the tables as he lazily drags his fingers along your dripping slit.

Yeah, you really do. You really wanna see him cum from almost nothing, again and again for the rest of your life.

"Mhm," you hum as you take his cock and guide it to your entrance.

You both gasp when you feel the head slip inside you. It's an unspoken challenge to see who cums first, and as he begins to thrust, you worry you might lose.

It's addicting – and quickly, you realize the tip isn't enough.

"Leon, Leon, Leon," you chant his name as if you don't have his full undivided attention. "I need more. I need you to fuck me – for real."

"Oh? I thought you wanted just the tip, baby?" He taunts.

"I changed my mind," you say, and seeing the smirk on his face, you add a sincere, desperate, "please."

"Too bad," he says. "I'll fuck you deeper later, baby, but you're getting what you asked for this time."

If he wasn't mean already, he is when he removes his cock entirely. You look at him in shock and horror. His only reaction is to slide his cock along your folds.

"You're so fucking mean," you say, and in that moment, you're convinced you mean it.

"And? What are you gonna do about it, huh?"

"Nothing!” You’re on the verge of tears now. “I surrender. I'll do whatever you want if you just fuck me."

"Whatever I want?" He asks, teasing your entrance with the tip.

You clench around nothing, in anticipation, in vain. "Yes. Whatever you want."

You're prepared to run down the street naked or enter a cage of hungry tigers, but what he asks for is worse. "Okay. Dishes for the week."

You groan, dreading the chore (but not enough to reject the bargain).

"And laundry," he adds.

You don’t even have a chance to think about your answer. Your pussy is in control now as your mind is lost somewhere in the pool of wetness dripping out of you. "Okay, fine, goddamnit, just fuck me."

So, he does. Since you practically milked him dry with just your thighs, he can last much longer. You are at a disadvantage. He fucks you at a merciless pace, making you scream out his name (and making your neighbors hate you even more than they already do).

The orgasm you share makes a mess of the sheets and when Leon pulls out of you, you remember your agreement.

"Oh, fuck me," you say.

"I already did, baby," he says with a particularly cheery tone, basking in the bliss of two orgasms and zero chores.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Wicked Games 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: non/dubcon, cheating, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Steve Rogers

Summary: you had a one night stand. Or did you?

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Your phone wakes you. The room tilts as you open your eyes. A dull hammering thrums in your temples. The morning light makes your brain rough as sand paper. 

Dregs of vodka stick to your dry tongue. The hangover weighs you down like an anchor. Just the thought of moving hurts. 

You reach blindly for your jittering phone. Bubbly music tinkles from the speaker. Shit. It's Barrett. What did he forget this time? 

You answer and put your clammy palm to your forehead. You squint at the ceiling then your eyes slowly round. Where the fuck are you?  

"Hey, babe. You at Wendy's?" Your husband asks. 

You gulp and peel your tongue off the roof of your mouth. This isn't Wendy's house. 

"Yep," you croak. Your eyes ping side to side. 

"Look, I'm sorry about last night. Things got heated and I know I was an ass--" 

You cough as you sit up in the strange bed. "Yeah, you were." 

"So why don't you come home and we can talk it out." 

You peer around the room and your lips curve in a frown. Where the hell would you go besides home your loyal best friend's? You scratch you scalp and turn your legs over the edge of the bed, "let me get myself together." 

"Babe. Please. I'm sorry." 

"When I get home." You hang up.  

It was a hell of fight. The minute he started yelling, you bailed. He knows better. You're not doing a ten hour day and coming home his nagging. So you left out your coffee mug. Big deal. You didn't say anything about the garbage bag he left out to be torn apart by raccoons. 

Whatever. Fighting over dishes. Not of it matters right now. 

Your clothes are on the floor. Someone's floor. Who it is is far from the point. You stand and stagger. You catch yourself on the nightstand. Your hand moves instinctively between your legs. 

You're naked and tender. Did you have sex? 

Think! You ran out with your purse. You went to Wendy's. She was up for a night out. A night to forget and body did you. First drink, second, third, then it gets blurry.  

Fuck! You didn't. You wouldn't. You're pissed at your husband but you wouldn't cheat on him. You're not that type of person. Right? 

You don't have time for that. You have to get out of here.  

You dress as you search the room. It's tidy. Half the bed is mad and the other half messed from your drunken slumber. 

You shake out your hands trying to shoo away the flurry of guilt and denial. Just get out. You'll think better with some coffee in your system.  

You push down the door handle slowly. You listen to the silence of the hall. You tiptoe out warily, checking left and right as you advance. It's a nice place. A condo. Much nicer than your cramped one bedroom. 

Not important! 

You come out into the spacious front room. It's as empry as the rest of the place. The kitchen too. The bathroom. No one. 

Your purse is by the door. Your shoes too. You grab both and let yourself out. You'd rather not face your mistake. 

No, you didn't do anything. You wouldn't. 

You hurry down the hallway to the elevators. You don't look back, just keep going. You don't think, just go. 

It isn't until you're outside the familiar cafe marquee that your let your mind settle. You enter and join the queue. Your order a black coffee and drink it at a stool by the window.  

You lean your elbows on the high table that stands inside the pane. You take a slow, savouring swig of coffee and let it trickle down your throat. You shield your face from the New York morning and put your hands over your ears. 

You can't remember anything but Wendy. Your anger had you ordering round after round, trying to drown out the bile. The thought makes your stomach lurch and you gulp thickly. 

You shake your head and groan. Your phone chirps. It's probably Barrett. Several messages from him and missed calls. All through the night. It's bad enough you betrayed him, you had him up worrying. 

No, you didn't! 

It can't have happened if you don't remember it. A generous stranger took you home so you didn't wake up on the curb. That's it. 

That's the story. Nothing happened. And you'll let Barret believe you were with Wendy. It won't make a difference. 

Your mind is set. Nothing happened. 

Nothing. Happened. 

Because you don't remember. Because you were too drunk to do that. Because you're married and it can't happen. 

You're going to finish your coffee and go home. Everything will be just like it was before... after you tell Barrett where to put that coffee mug if it's such a big deal. 

[yvvxs]

Creeps...

‎ ↪ ft. argenti. aventurine. blade. boothill. caelus. dr ratio. jing yuan. warnings: creeps, stalkers, the such.

"I understand you want to admire their beauty and know them better, but could you please step away?" Argenti asks in a kind, yet stern voice as he steps in between you and a weirdo who was persistent in trying to get your phone number. The person sighs, looking upset as they resign, reluctantly leaving from your side. He asks about your condition, whether they tried anything, as he's worried for you after you experienced such a thing.

Aventurine wraps his arm around your waist, interrupting the awkward and unpleasant conversation you were having with the creep, who was asking weird and personal questions. "Who are you? Why are you touching them?" They asked, upset by his actions and acting all protective of you despite the true intent in their actions. "I'm their boyfriend." He gives them a smile, and they look at you, who nods in confirmation. They furrow their brows, leaving upset that they couldn't have you. Unfortunately, you were already taken by your dear Kakavasha, and no one could tear you away from him.

Blade only has to give whoever was stalking you from a distance a glare, and they run and hide away like the scaredy-cats that they were. If looks could kill, your boyfriend probably would have a higher bounty than he already had. Any stalkers or creeps that even tried to follow you would go away with one wrong look from Blade, as he looked too threatening for anyone to even think of messing with. At least you were safe from any weirdos when you were with him.

When a creep even dares to bother you, you don't have to worry about it as long as you have Boothill by your side. He'd go swearing his mouth off at them. If his Synesthesia Beacon wasn't censoring him with every word, his threats would be more scary than they already were. He would usually pipe it down when dealing with other people.. But he was running his mouth off angrily, more than when he would be with any IPC members. He loved you so much, and swore to protect you, even from any people who dared to come close like this.

"Don't you know that I'm the famous Galactic Baseballer?" Caelus boasts proudly, chest puffed up proudly and his hands on his hips. The weirdo that was trying to pursue you awkwardly looked at the man, trying to understand what nonsense was being spat out of this.. raccoon-looking person. Eventually, bored and confused by whatever he was saying, they decided to leave, thinking that it wasn't worth the effort trying to even get your name when someone like this was in your way. You thank him with a smile, and can't help but smile at the 'tactic' Caelus used to deter them.

Dr. Ratio clears his throat, sending a glare at the student in his lecture who was staring at you for a bit too long now. The person who dared to look at his love in that way wasn't going to get away with it. He decided to call them up, asking them a question about the topic they were just talking about. Leaving them embarrassed and ashamed as they were unable to answer, proving that they weren't listening, but rather, focusing on you. He scolds them with a frown, continuing to work as they finally listen to his words, not wanting to go through that again.

"Leave them alone." Jing Yuan just has to say one word, as the creep realizes that the General himself was stepping into the scene. They respectfully bow as if they weren't doing anything previously, though the three of you know the truth about what was happening. They awkwardly leave you be, not wanting to mess with Jing Yuan.. Who knows what trouble they would have gone through if they were to anger him..

↪ When Jiaoqiu releases I'll release the next love language post.

Masterlist || Do not repost nor feed to AI. Reblogs & Comments are much appreciated.

[belovedcloud]

Sick Days | Roommate! Leon Kennedy x Fem! Reader

Notes: Been pretty bedbound recently and thought about how Leon would be if he was sick and had his roommate help him out. This is literally just Leon and you being lovestruck by each other but you both are too scared to say it until he does.

WC: 1.9K

CW: Talks of Ada leading Leon on, nervous Leon but cute outcome. He loves you a lot and just can't convey it well. Fluff, maybe a Part 2?

➽───────────────────────❥

Lazing around in bed was nice every now and again, but that's when you haven't got a tissue shoved up your nose and the highest temperature possible. Leon never meant to get sick in the first place - but when you magically find yourself in a sewer and get stuck in shit-rotting clothes for a good few hours in the cold, it tends to happen. So here he was, trying to breathe properly whilst you tended to him every hour and so. If he wasn't sick he would've thanked you properly by getting you a gift but being bedbound was difficult enough. So his forms of gifts to you were sneezes and coughs as he tried to stomach the pills and cough syrup you gave him.

"Maybe try and not sneeze on my arm..." You jokingly said as he grumbled in bed, wrapping himself in his sheets. "Shut up.." He coughed out as he tried to hide his smile from you, it was impossible to not smile around you. The feelings you gave him were indescribable at the very least. It was like he was a teenager again, fumbling over his words sometimes and not being able to make sense of himself as you would smile at him. Your soft hands swat away the hairs that fell in front of his face as he sniffled, groaning in pain as his head ached continuously. "When can I have my pills again?" Leon asked as his teary eyes travelled up your face, taking in your beauty as you placed down another hot chocolate on the nightstand for him to gulp down any minute by now. "Uhh.. give another 30 minutes, I don't want you feeling even worse because you took your pills too early." You chuckled out as you saw his disheveled state, he really could be dramatic at times. "Fuck.. as if I could be in anymore pain." He muttered, taking the hot chocolate into his hands as he painfully sipped at it, the hot liquid seeping into the cracks of his lips. The lack of hydration causing his skin to dry out.

"Hold on let me get you some chapstick." Seeing you walk out Leon couldn't help but sigh. You were too kind to him, too kind to a man who killed monsters for a living. Yet you wouldn't mind hearing him sob out his monstrous nightmarish stories, you wouldn't mind helping him when he needed help. You would always be there, and that's why he fell in love with you. It took him a while to understand the concepts of love after being lead on by Ada back in Raccoon City. But he got there in the end and he was content with having a crush on you. Even though he thought you would never get with a man like him. Your smile and friendship was enough for him. For now. Your love for Leon was no different. The way he carried himself and his strength mentally was always something you looked up to. He was courageous, no normal person could be like him if they put up with what he was put through a few years ago. His kindness still resided within him - something that you longed for.

Moments later, Leon sees you coming in with a stick of chapstick. The pop of the lid makes him shuffle up from his homemade pillow and blanket mess, his groans apparent as he sat up. "Remind me to not lay down like that again.." He moaned out in pain as he saw you level up the chapstick. "Even when you're sick, you're still funny." You laughed out. "Finally admitting I'm funny now, when I'm on my deathbed?" He playfully rolled his eyes as he put his hand to his head, reenacting how someone would faint. "You are so dramatic Leon." The flick of your finger on his forehead made him yelp. "What the fuck?" Leon chuckled, turning his eyes back on the chapstick. "Red chapstick... really?" He looked at you with tired eyes as he saw your hands approach his head. "It's either this or you can have chapped lips, which one will it be grumpy?" You retorted out jokingly as your left hand tilted his chin up towards you. His face couldn't help but feel warmer... How the hell could it feel warmer when he was ill? A sense of embarrassment overwhelmed Leon as he pursed his lips, a sigh eliciting out his throat. "Fine, chapstick it is."

His gaze wondered over you as the feeling of chapstick replenished the moisture in his lips, slowly rubbing his lips together as you stopped applying it. "Looks like you have lipstick on." He heard you snicker out as your remark slowly made you burst out in a fit of laughter. "Shut uppp.." Leon couldn't help but laugh with you - your giggling made him smile. It was harmonic as he saw tears of joy appear in the creases of your eyes. Laughter slowly died down as you put the chapstick in your pocket - sitting down on Leon's bed. "Does princess Leon need anything else now?" You joked at him as he snuggled back into his fort of blankets. Leon rolled his eyes and averted them towards the side of the room. "You're so kind to me when I'm ill." He grumbled out, a small smile appearing on his lips. "You're welcome." You quipped back as you ruffled his pillows, fluffing them back up to their original shape.

"Thank you..." He hushed out, nervous as it escaped his mouth. Fuck, was that too obvious? "Huh? For fluffing your pillows?" Your head tilted in confusion as your eyes gazed back onto Leon's face. Even when ill, he was so handsome. "No, I mean yeah but.. Thanks for looking after me these past few days. When you could've been having fun with your friends." Leon stuttered out. His heartbeat felt rushed all of a sudden, scared of what you would say back. "You don't have to thank me Leon, it's nice being able to help you out." A soft smile appeared on your lips, he couldn't help but give a weak smile back. "And anyways, you would've done the same thing for me right?" Your hand slid to caress his. Aiding him in some sort of comfort as he mumbled out what he said next. "Yeah.. of course. I would help you with anything."

Leon felt himself get too hot as he hushed out his words. You couldn't help but feel nervous in this situation. His raspy voice hit spots in your heart where you thought it could never be reached. The way he spoke to you, the way he looked at you. Were you both really just friends? "I uh.. Sorry if that came out weird." He broke the silence between you two, feeling scared if he had made things awkward. "No, don't worry. It was really sweet of you to say that." You stumbled over your own words trying to make him think otherwise. The way your soft lips moved as your hand kept caressing his hand made Leon crazy. All he wanted to do was kiss you, hold you in his arms. Make you his. "Leon?" You nudged at him. Oops. He forgot he was mid-conversation with you.

"Sorry." He chuckled out. Fuck it. "You're really pretty." He whispered out meekly. It had felt like you short-circuited. Did Leon just call you pretty? "Huh?" Was all that managed to come out of your mouth as you stared at Leon in bewilderment. "Pretty?" You asked him, as if you were begging him to say it again. A soft chuckle erupted out of Leon's throat as his gaze wondered all over you. "Yeah, really pretty." He made it clear to you his thoughts. "Inside and out, and I'm sorry if I made this awkward I just couldn't keep it to myself anymore." He groaned out as he plopped his head back on his pillow. A subtle smile emerged on your face, looking at the man who just confessed to you. "It's okay, I just didn't think you thought of me that way." A mellow laugh elicited out your throat. "What? Of course I do, I mean look at you... You're beautiful and oh my God.. you treat me so well. I can't help but be in love with you." Leon rambled out, hushing himself as he realized the last part. "Shit..." He mumbled out, knowing he had fully confessed his love to you. He anticipated a rejection, instead he felt a soft kiss press on his forehead.

"I'm in love with you too Leon." She couldn't help but have a wide grin as she relapsed his confession in her mind. Leon on the other hand couldn't believe what just happened. It soon sent him into a coughing fit, with you patting his back and laughing. "Agh.. fuck." His voice rasped out of his throat. "How about you get some rest?" You stroked his face, getting the stray hairs out of his eyes. "Uh.. so we're going to just forget that you kissed my forehead?" He joked as he looked at you with teary eyes, still struggling to breathe from him coughing fit before. "Well I can't kiss you on the lips can I?" You snickered as you pinched his cheek, a small whine escaping his lips. "Yeah.. okay. I'll make it up to you when I'm not dying." Leon groaned out as he melted into your touch. "How are you gonna do that?" Confusion laced in your voice as you asked him that question. "Well if I tell you that'll ruin the surprise." He laughed as he looked into your eyes. Feeling your body leave his made him whine. "Where are you going?" He held onto your hand.

Your lips pressed against his forehead again as you stood up. "It's time for your pills." Leon yanked you back down to him as he rolled his eyes, a yelp leaving your lips. "They can wait." He grumbled out, his arms slowly wrapping around you. "Weren't you just crying about not having your meds?" You snickered out as you melted into his touch. "Hush, I don't need them now." He murmured as he lifted up the blankets, covering the both of you. Leon couldn't care less about the medication if it meant having you in his arms, at least for a bit. "Leon.." You whined out, "You're going to get me sick." You tried to escape his embrace, but to no avail. "We can be sick together." He joked as he kissed your neck, feeling content in his sick body. "Shut up, I'm getting your medicine." Getting up from his tight embrace was hard, but it was possible in the end when he felt you kick his kneecap. "You're really going to leave me when I'm like this?" He huffed out, a small pout forming on his lips. "I'll be back soon with your medicine, it's not like I'm leaving forever." You flicked his forehead as you walked out the door.

He was so in love with you.

likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated! thank u for reading :)

-> masterlist

➽───────────────────────❥

[withonly-sweetheart]

but what about his younger self? sfw <3

<><><><>

re2(r) leon that just can't wait to get to the academy. he got up at unearthly hours just to get dressed, drive all the way down to raccoon only to get there ages before anyone else. all just to make a good first impression on his superiors.

so imagine his heart sinking when all he gets from his newly assigned t.o. is a scowl thrown at him, the praise he would've gotten at the academy pushed to the furthest corner of his brain when he makes it his goal to impress you.

you point out every little flaw, chastise him harshly when he makes minor mistakes, and your peers stand by with helpless smiles and nonchalant shrugs; "it's just your luck, rookie, you got stuck with her."

of course, and he complies with every little task you assign him, no matter how much he sees how easy the other rookies get it. you're young and eager, the easiest way to form you is from the start.

but your little game with shielding him from true horrors can only go so far. sure, being patrol and all, you've done your best to shoo him from real danger, keeping him safe, because that's the least you could do him. you failed in your last assignment, and you're not about to let it happen again.

in all your shouting, all your screaming at him, you really do care for your boot. your rookie. so your horror when you find him unconscious on a hospital bed surpasses the grief you felt when your first boot was killed in action.

when he finally comes home, you're notified immediately, courtesy of your fellow officer, and he opens the door, still bloody and battered, but at least he looks clean. his eyes are drooping yet still alert enough to recognize you, instinctively stepping to the side to let you in.

"what the fuck were you thinking?" your voice has never been this level, this calm with him. it surprises him just as much as it does you.

"i've been training my whole life for this-"

"trained cops don't disregard direct orders!" you fling the accusation out into the air between you, and almost immediately you can see the effects.

they come in the straightening of leon's spine, the batting of his eyelashes as he restrains himself from crying, because the last thing he needs is for you to think he's weaker than you already assume.

"i-i was just trying to..."

"trying to what, leon?" you hiss. the statement sounds sharper than you want it to, but backing down now would give him the chance to turn the tables.

"i thought if i did something right, for once, you might actually like me."

the silence between you is thick, heavy, like the burden just released from leon's shoulders. and your response is delayed.

"... what?"

"i said-"

"no, i heard you the first time. but what the fuck is that supposed to mean, boot?"

his eyes flit sideways, avoiding your steely gaze, a gaze you work hard to maintain. did he mistake your strictness for hatred? that's never happened before.

"i messed everything up, like i always do."

"you never... what?" your confusion comes through every single time in that damn word, because the placeholder for what you really want to say can't really be... well, replaced.

you take a step towards him, and he goes rigid, narrowing his eyes, preparing for the inevitable lecture he was hoping would be saved until your shift the next day.

but it never comes. you stare up into his eyes, gorgeous eyes, really, eyes that you had admired from his side profile. he's restless, you realize that now, fingers trembling like shaky leaves on a windy day.

"take a day off, leon."

"... ma'am?"

"you heard me, rookie. you need that injury to recover before you can hit the streets again."

"but-"

"no buts. that's a direct order, one that i hope you'll stick to this time, officer kennedy. you did well out there today. you held your will, did the right thing even though we decided against it."

"... you're really letting me off the hook?"

your fingers find the unfamiliar neckline of his white tank top, and you adjust it carefully, just as you would with his shirt collar. he flushes crimson, but your touch is nothing more than a doting gesture.

"just this once, boot. don't get too used to it."

series masterlist

[postersofleon]

Wrong Age For A Babysitter

It's winter break. You went to visit your parents after a long time of seeing them. To your surprise, a guy who is your age says he needs to babysit you.

content: fluff and smut

notes: afab fem!reader, mentions of drinking alcohol, reader drinks it with leon. leon and reader are in their twenties. cute sex. second point of view to not have y/n, before the events of raccoon city, no mentions of holiday just winter. non canon lore of leon; this was suppose to be published in december, but I forgot about this.

taglist: @argreion

It was the winter holiday after a long time studying for finals, you went home to your parents home to visit them. At least for a while, but unexpectedly, your parents weren't home. You took off your shoes before entering, the house was dark with very little light. "No even a voice mail." You muttered bitterly. Your eyes looked around to see what you'll respectful steal from your parents. Cookies. Hell yeah. You grabbed from the selection and took a bite. The silent house only heard were the munches of your teeth eating the cookie.

That's when you saw a note from your parents on the fridge.

Hi, we went to dinner with a couple of friends. Sorry we couldn't be with you.

Your eyes narrowed, "But couldn't call." You didn't mean to sound so damn bitter, but how much it hurt to call in. You grabbed a beer and cracked the can open. You steal more cookies from the tray, and your eyes found the thermostat and made it comfortable heat. You grabbed your beer and sat on the couch of the living room.

You attempted to find the remote, but nope. This was getting more and more annoying. You put the beer on the coffee table and put the cookies on top of the fizzy beer. Your hands patted down the couch over and over, your fingers were shoved inside the edges of the couch. You found pocket change and put in your pocket without thinking twice.

But the small lived silence stopped when you heard a knock. Your head snapped to turn to see who it could be. Was it those Christmas singers? No. There's was silence, and those people were loud. You carefully grabbed a cookie and ate a bit of it before walking towards the door.

You checked the peep hole and found a sandy blond guy in the other side. His cheeks were flushed from the cold. "Hi?" He began, "Um, I'm Leon. The babysitter." He knocked again.

Maybe it was a dumb action but you opened the door immediately. "Sorry, wrong house. I'm twenty." It wouldn't make sense why your parents would send a babysitter.

Leon shook his head, "Impossible." He took off his glove and pulled out a piece of paper that read your address. You ate another piece of your cookie before looking at the paper, "You got the wrong house." You knew so. You stepped a bit out of the comfort of your home, "Over there." Leon turned to see, "My neighbors have a daughter. You are probably her babysitter."

Leon shook his head, "I don't mess up my addresses." He exhaled deeply. His eyes almost intimidated you, he looked so damn determined, and with that you felt a bit of second hand embarrassment. You took another bite of your cookie, "Can I see some ID?" You asked him with small levels of impatience. Leon automatically gave you his ID.

What a handsome guy. "Leon Scott Kennedy." You read out his information, "Happy early birthday." You smiled politely at him as you continued to look at it.

You knew your parents were careful around you, but not to give you a babysitter at your age. "Listen," You began, "You seem a nice guy, but I don't need a babysitter. I just got out of college to enjoy the winter break."

Leon sighed softly, the exhale was that looked like that fog, "Listen, I don't break my promises," His blue eyes were focused, "If your parents put me as a twenty year olds babysitter. I'll do it."

"Fuck it. Fine." You pulled away to let him enter. You were being stupid and ignore all the possible red flags of this situation. Once Leon entered, he took off his snow boots and his coat. He turned to see the living room, hoping at least there was children to actually take care of, but it was only you and him.

"Wanna a beer?" You asked him with a tiny awkward smile.

Leon didn't drink beer in his babysitting job. But what is he gonna protect you from? "Yeah, that would be nice." He sat down on the couch and looked around. It was nice and toasty. You looked at him for a second before going to the kitchen and grabbing a beer. "Here ya go." She walked back and handed it to him.

He gladly accepted it. "Appreciate it."

You sat on the other side of the couch. You needed to see why this guy was going to be your babysitter. It was dumb. You are still convinced Leon got the wrong address, but for now, you will just stayed quiet and took a drink.

Your babysitter took a drink of his own beer.

Your head leaned on the couch to see Leon properly. It was unacceptable that this guy was hot. He looked cute and lovely, and unfortunately, it wasn't enough to flirt with him. Leon turned around to see you. He had a small smile, "I'm sorry. I know I seem like a red flag." He whispered.

Without a second, you nodded your head, "Yeah, it hard to think you are... y'know... normal?"

Leon chuckled softly, "I'm going to be a cop." You snorted a laugh, "That doesn't prove anything." A gentle tease.

Leon laughed a bit louder, "I guess you are right." He took a small drink of his beer. "But I wanted to become a cop to protect people. I grew up poor with my grandma after my parents died so..." Leon brushed his hair behind his ear. "I want to be good."

"It's a noble wish." You whispered softly.

"Yeah, well, I'm trying to be chosen to work for Raccoon City." Leon leaned on the couch as he looked at your eyes. He swallowed, "It's... it's a nice place to start." You nodded your head as you listened to him speak; he had a lovely voice.

You two took a drink. You leaned closer to him, "It's nice." You confirmed.

Leon sighed softly, his cheeks redden from the warm place, "Listen," Leon rubbed gently his wrist, "Maybe I was... too stubborn." He couldn't even look at your eyes from the simple idea of him being wrong. Thinking his stuff more clearly, Leon sighed again, "I was wrong. Maybe you are right."

A small laugh appeared from your lips, "No way? Really?" You finished your beer and placed it between your thighs. Leon scowled, "I, I know." But he didn't seem offended by it. Immediately, he laughed softly, "I'm sorry." A small pause between you two, Leon looked down your thighs.

"Sorry." He whispered again.

Yeah, your own thoughts were infected at the idea so quickly. It was amusing that you first thought this dork wasn't worth it until his eyes traveled down at your thighs.

"It's, um," You cleared your throat, "Fine." Your hands grabbed the can of beer and put it on the coffee table. Leon's cheeks were redder before leaning completely forward. His lips were still a bit cold, but your warm lips didn't mind it. Gently, Leon got on top of you. His knees were side to side of your thighs, his lips tasted awful with the beer and the coldness. Yet it didn't stop you. Your lips moved with his, your lips gently sucked on his, and slowly, your tongue was inside of his mouth.

Leon's hands grabbed your hips against his, pulling them ever so gently. Leon's hips gently began to hump against you. You dropped the kiss, "L-leon..." You mumbled weakly, your arms wrapped around his shoulders as he continued to hump you.

His humps were desperately slowly in attempts to get his erection, and certainly, you began to feel the bulge. Leon looked at you shyly.

God, who is this guy looking shy after grinding against you? "Are you wet?" He asked you.

Your cheeks burned up, "Um, a bit," You admitted softly, "But, I'm..." Your eyes were finally full-on focused into Leon. His cheeks were red, his bulge continued to grind against you. What kind of one night stand is this?

"Need more?" Leon whispered softly.

You nodded. Leon nodded his head and slowly got between your legs. "May I?" Leon asked. You nodded your head, "Yeah." Leon pressed his nose against your crotch, gently licking you. You gasped very weakly. His hands grabbed your hips so gently, holding you tightly. Even though you had pants on, you could feel how his hot breath felt.

"I'm ready." You whispered softly. Leon looked up at you, "You sure?" You knew it was too fast, but it was definitely worth it already. Another nod.

Leon sat up and undid your jean's button and slid them down. His eyes were focused on your thighs and your face, darting them up and down, "I, okay." He took off his own jeans. Your cheeks burned even more when you saw his dick. Your hands covered your face, "Um, I-" You laughed nervously.

"Don't laugh at it." Leon faked a pout.

His hand gently rubbed his dick and pumped it gently, "It has feelings." Slowly, the tip brushed your clit, you chewed on your lip as it slowly went inside. "Oh, fuck..." You muttered so ever weakly. Leon groaned weakly, his hips gently pushed more and more until he was completely in. His blue eyes met yours for a second and laughed, "I, I-" His dick twitched happily, he leaned close and began to kiss you. So gently and kindly. You followed behind him. Small pecks of kisses that slowly, little by little grew.

You held him tightly, his hands caressed your cheeks, "Mm, I, I could ask you on a date..." Leon mumbled against your lips. His hips slowly began to move, small little thrusts, "I don't, I don't usually do this..." Leon groaned weakly, "In the first date-" Leon rested his head on your neck and his hips went faster.

His tongue licked your neck and bite on your skin. Trying to be quiet. You gasped weakly as you felt him enter you in and out. His hands gently grabbed your breasts through your shirt, squeezing them gently.

Another weak whine, "L-Leon..." Leon lifted your shirt and shoved his face between your breasts as he thrusted deeper and deeper. He kissed your breasts gently and sucked your nipples.

Was this really all the attempts to keep quiet? To make you feel that you'll be loud. He gently nibbled on them, he growled weakly as he thrusts went faster and faster. "I, I need to..." Leon mumbled softly.

He groaned weakly, trying to hold in his release. You pulled him away from your breasts, his lips were covered with drool- his eyes were empty. He looked so pretty. You leaned weakly towards him and kissed him. He whined weakly, "Fu-Fuck, fuck..." Leon's hands travel down your lines, holding your thighs.

You were making this harder and harder for Leon.

Leon kissed your jaw as he continued to groan. His thrusts went into a bit harsher pounding, "C'mon, c'mon..."

He needed your release more than ever.

You felt how his cock just twitched over and over. His length moved in and out, the desperation in the two of you grew. His fingers found your clit and rubbed it. He whined. He finally whined with those grunts, it was just a mix of him rubbing it over and over.

You cried weakly, "Leon!"

His thrusts turned a bit sloppier, Leon groaned louder as he focused only, only in your pleasure. Soon enough, his cum exploded inside of you. Leon cursed softly as he felt your cunt hold him, your warmth was so nice. Inviting. Leon held your face. Giving you more and more kisses around your cheeks and lips. You gasped softly, trying to catch your breath, "Leon..." You mumbled weakly.

Leon pulled out of you and his cum slide down. His heart fluttered. He should have worn a condom, but all he could do is look at your face.

Leon laughed softly again and kissed you over and over, "I'm- I'm sorry." He was even more lovable. You laughed weakly, "Stop, stop it." Leon's eyes were so bright, and it made your heart melt even more.

Your hand gently held his, sharing a small moment until you heard your parents open the door. You two attempted to fix each other up, it was fast, but the smell of sex ruined the lovely winter joy. You fixed Leon's hair, his cheeks were still red, and he was met with another kiss. "I owe you the date." Leon whispered softly. He caressed your cheek before kissing you again.

"Oh, hi," It was your dad, "Um, who is the guy?" You gently pulled away, "He's.. he's my boyfriend." Leon blushed heavily. Babysitting isn't as tough, but Leon did have to remember he accidentally forgot his job. "Um, well," Leon forced a smile, "Hi."

[chrisbesitos]

Okay heres another Ballerina!reader x Dealer!chris idea:

Reader is WORN OUT from recital practice, but cant rest until she gets that ONE specific part just right (totally not projecting) so shes working on it for HOURS at home (even with the bloody feet, belive me, its a regualr thing) and REFUSES to stop

idk if that makes any sense but yea

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀you're in love

( warnings: angst (a little bit), mentions of blood, cursing, fluff.

( synopsis: chris helps you when things get harder and you can't stop practicing your choreography for the recital.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ꒰͡⠀���� 𝅄 💸⠀͡꒱

Perfectionism. You always were a perfectionist, at school, at university and at ballet. You have the urge to be perfect and thus fuck with your head, because you don't think you can stop until your good enough. Sometimes it seems like you never will be enough and this hurts, causes not only mentally bruises, but physically too.

Well, you're accustomed to this, because it's how your brain works. Even though the pain is killing you, consuming your feet and legs like a plague. Take a deep breath and keep going, that's what you always says.

It's been hours since you're trying to do a step of your choreography perfectly, but for some reason, you can't do it right. Well, not the way you want to do. Your phone buzzing on the floor takes your attention, almost making you fall in the middle of a pirouette, you groan as you lower down to grab. It was Chris, calling you for the fifth time.

"Damn, doll. I've been calling ya', where have you been?" Chris asks through the phone, you huffs opening the cap of the bottle, taking a few sips breathing hard. "What ya' doin'? I'm fishin' some deals, wanna eat something?"

"Thank you, baby, but now I can't." You reply, holding the phone with the shoulder against your ear. You shift your feet, feeling your fingers sore, you groan in pain. "Shit." You murmured.

"Ya' good, doll?" He asks, concerned about his girl. You nod, forgetting for a moment he's not seeing you.

"Yeah, I'm just practicing now." You bite your lower lip, you need to go back to your training. "Uh, baby, what about you brought us some food? I'll have finished when you arrive here."

"Fine, doll, mind if I choose?" You deny, so Chris okay it and turned off.

You finally could go back to your practice, now putting your phone on the mute. You can't stop more, not even for calls. Chris takes more than a half hour to arrive at your place, you didn't even notice when he gets in. The smell of fresh burgers makes your stomach groans, it's been hours since your last meal, but you didn't realize you were starving until now.

"You still doin' that shit? You said you'll be ready when I get home." He says, putting the bags on the kitchen table, he looks at the living room. The couch was out of his usual place, the tv paused on the song of your choreography and you.

You were kinda a mess. Your hair is tied in a messy bun, strands of hair sticking in your sweat forehead and your cheeks red.

"Did you get attacked by a rabid raccoon?" He chuckles, you roll your eyes ignoring him. Chris raised his eyebrows at her sassy behavior, sipping his soda. "Stop that shit, let's eat."

"In a few minutes, I need to finish this." You say, turning the music on again. Chris sits in the corner of the couch, watching you do your choreography. He smiles, he loves to watch you dance, your delicate movements and the way your body moves, drives he crazy. "Fuck!" You scream, visibly frustrated with your dance, Chris frowned his eyebrows, you were perfect for him. He rested his cup on the ground, lifting from the couch to move towards you.

"What's wrong, huh? You were perfect." Chris says, cupping your cheeks with his hands. Tears were pricking in your waterline from the frustration of failure, Chris sighs pulling you closer to his chest, caressing your back with his fingers. "You're doin' great, babydoll."

"I'm not perfect." You sob on his chest, Chris shakes his head moving you to the couch, he sits and puts you on his lap. He holds your chin, making you look at him with your tearing eyes. "If I stop now, I'll not be good enough." You say, trying to get out of his lap, to get back to your practice, but Chris holds your waist, holding you hard.

"You're good enough, doll. You're perfect f'me." Chris said, cleaning your tears with his thumbs. You sniff with a little pouty in the lips, Chris chuckles cupping your cheeks. "You're the best, babydoll." He kisses your nose.

"I don't feel like I am." You whisper, leaning your head to Chris shoulder, he sighs and massages your scalp. "I'm so tired, my feet hurt." You murmured.

"How about you stop for tonight? Tomorrow I can help you with this." He caresses your thighs through the pantyhose.

"You're gonna dance with me?" You ask, lifting your head with a smile on your lips and your eyes sparkling. You always ask Chris to dance with you, but he always denies.

"Of course no, ma." He rolls his eyes, shifting on the couch with you on his legs. You huff, crossing your arms on the chest, Chris laughed undoing the ribbon from the pointe shoe you were wearing. "I said that I'm gonna help you, not dance with you."

"You're so annoying." You say, removing the claw clip of your hair and putting it aside on the couch. Chris tugged off both of your pointe shoes, gently putting on the ground, he rubbed your feet and your fingers.

"I can leave with this." He shakes his shoulders. "Uh, doll? Your feet are bleeding, is that supposed to happen?" Chris asks with a concerned look at you, he frowns his eyebrows when you slightly nod.

"It happens sometimes, it's okay." You say, caressing his shoulder, you offer him a gentle smile, saying that's everything ok. He rubbed your legs, still worrying about your bloody feet.

"Let me take care of this, 'kay?" He kisses your jaw, gently putting you on the couch.

Chris cleaned the blood from your hurt feet, putting curatives on your fingers, he also put ice and massaged until the pain was gone. He didn't let you walk to the kitchen table, he brought the food to the couch and put on tv your favorite show, he makes sure you're comfortable and good. After finishing eating, he ran you a bath with your favorite products — he's favorite also, because he loves how you'll smell after shower — and he didn't let you move a finger, because he does all the work and you don't complain.

In your bedroom, laying on the bed and under the blanket with all of your stuffed animals on the floor, Chris caresses your thighs with his finger, kissing your lips passionately. Your hands resting on his chest, scratching a bit with your nails, a smile grows in your face when he breaks the kiss.

"You're really not gonna dance with me?" You ask, with a little pouty in your lips.

"Not doin' that shit, go to sleep." Chris says, rolling his blue eyes and lifting to turn the nightstand lamp off. The last sound in the room before the silence was the sound of your laugh, before Chris held your waist and pulled you closer.

he's just a boy in love (but he doesn't know lol) ;)

tags ; @lizzymacdonald06 @deliciousluminaryanchor @lushjunkie @sweetreliever @watercolorskyy @ivysturnss @brianna-grace12 @blahbel668 @gabri3la-sturns @strnlxlqve @stvrnzcherries @unknvhx @pvssychicken @all4l0vee @i4longhairchris @sluttybitchformattsturniolo @sophand4n4 @sturniololetstrip2

taglist | masterlist

[angelwhisp3rs]

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ꕥ arrival

Pairing: RE4!Leon x Fem!Reader

Summary: After Spain, he just wanted to spend some time with her.

Tags: fluff; smut; p in v; oral (f/m); overstimulation; praise/degradation; soft/hard dom leon; this is just horny, im so sorry ksksk;

Notes: an idea i had and that has also been requested! im being slow but i promise to do every requests, but uni is kicking my ass ksksk

Minors do not interact!

Spain had been absolutely terrible. Since Raccoon City, that has been the worst place he had the displeasure of going. The ganados, his infection, the constant threat, it all made his mind go overload and just tire itself out. At times like that, he ached to be cuddling her, getting her sweet kisses and caresses, not fucking punches to his guts.

When he was finally cleared from the medical bay, he could only rush home. God, he missed her. It hasn’t been a long time since they last say each other, but fuck, whenever you have a whole village after you, days begin to feel like weeks. The worse is that he had to be on observation for a few days, making sure that the Plagas was truly gone, while the only medicine he ever needed was her.

'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'

At first, it was supposed to be loving and gentle. He opened the door, and she was already there waiting for him, running into his arms and hugging him tightly. Fuck, he almost cried; he was finally safe and away from all those horrors.

Then, she kissed him with love and relief, closing the door behind him and leaving his suitcase on the side, making him focus on her - as if he ever wanted to focus on something else. As she guided them to their bedroom, he couldn't help but grope, touch, and feel every part of her, kissing her neck and marking her too. 

Laying her on the bed, he had to step back and admire his girl, his princess, his angel. 

“Missed you, baby” he said as he pressed kisses on her neck

“Missed you way more” She giggled in glee

“Not possible.” He said, smirking.

He took his shirt off, and she gasped, looking a little sad. She knows about his job, and she hates whenever he comes back to her bruised, broken and traumatized. She gently kissed every mark on his body, pulling him down to lay on the bed.

“Let me take care of you. You deserve it after having to take care of everyone else” 

As she said that, she took the reins, knowing how much he needed that. Slowly pushing down the remainder of his clothing, she began kissing his abs, worshiping his skin as she lowered her mouth, ignoring his cock for now and kissing his toned thighs. 

They were so big; she loved just the thought of letting them wrap around her head and suffocate her. His hands caressed and pushed her hair away, watching as she loved him.

“Fuck, don't tease, babe… been wanting this for too long” he grunted, buckling his hips into her lips

She giggled at his neediness but decided to go ahead - he usually wasn't like this, so this mission must've messed with him.

Grabbing the base of his cock, she pressed open-mouthed kisses on his dick, letting her saliva coat it as it throbbed on her hands in need.

She put the tip in her mouth, letting the tip of her tongue press on the skin of the head. She swirled her tongue as she slowly began sucking it, gloating at his grunts. She couldn't wait till he was a moaning mess for her.

She began to lower her head, taking as much as she could and using her palms to aid her in his pleasure. Her head moved back and forth, spit gathering on his shaft and helping her hand move. Her tongue pressed on the prominent vein, making him let out a gasp mixed with a moan.

“Baby, that's it. Take my cock; it's all yours” 

He made a makeshift ponytail with her hair, thrusting his hips up as she gagged and kept taking him, each of his words being spaced by a thrust.

Tears formed in her eyes, but she didn't care. She wanted her man to feel everything; she wanted to reward him for all the fighting he did. He fought to stay alive and come back to her.

She missed his salty taste and the way he slowly lost himself to the pleasure. It didn't take long for him to cum on her throat, making her swallow it all as he laid panting in their bed.

'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'

Smiling, she kissed up his body, sharing a sweet kiss with him, pulling away to nuzzle on his nose.

“Let me pay back, love”

“No, Leon. Today is all about you” She reassured him, making sure he still laid on the bed.

“But eating your pretty cunt is something for me too” he bargained with a cheshire grin.

“Don't wanna hurt you, baby…” She said unsure, frowning.

“Then sit on my face. That way I can have you and still be resting in the bed” he tried once more.

Just the thought made her clench around the air. He was right; she only had to make sure not to put too much weight on him.

Following his offer, she began removing her clothes, and Leon almost shrieked in happiness; he wanted nothing more than to see her hovering his face.

Fully naked, just like him, she carefully sits above him, moving up till she reaches his face. Before she could even reassure him, he pushed her into his mouth, not wasting any time and locking the wet cavern on her sensitive clit, holding her hips down with his strong hands.

She grabbed the headboard, moaning as she watched him devour her “f-fuck, baby, be careful”.

He shook his head, beginning to flick his tongue on the bundle of nerves, a wet and sinful noise leaving his lips as she moaned in pleasure.

“Eating this pussy is gonna make something that none of the drugs did” he said against her cunt, moving his tongue to fuck her hole.

She whined and tried to squirm her hips; it was too much in such a short period of time. But his palms didn't let her move anywhere, leaving her only to take it and feel the pleasure.

“Pussy so sweet, gonna make me ignore every call just so I can keep eating it” he mumbled as he ate her out, his chin beginning to be wet by her juices.

She was so close, and by the second he put two fingers inside her and began scissoring it as he rolled his tongue on her clit, she almost screamed as she came on his tongue, her body shaking as she coated him with her juices.

'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'

To her surprise, his other hand held her firm in place and he didn't stop, her moans turning into overstimulated whines, as he toyed with her cunt and kept thrusting his fingers.

“B-baby, t-too much…” She moaned as she shook in pleasure.

“It's not, baby, you are my good girl, you can do it” 

He praised her and kept going, and from the added sensitiveness, it didn't take long for her to cum again, drenching more of the lower part of his face.

He allowed her to lay down as she shook and tried to stabilize her heartbeat, looking up at him with hazy eyes and blushing cheeks.

“Leon, where did that come from?” She asked in giggles

“Was too hungry for you, my love, couldn't help it. I'm sorry” he apologized and pressed kisses to her cheeks and mouth, both giggling.

'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'

As some time passed as they caressed each other and had a pillow talk, he couldn't help but put her on his lap, making her feel his hard cock.

“Jesus, love, you are eager”

“Oh, don't tease. I never see you complaining when I'm fucking you good”

“Yeah, but that's not happening today, Leon. You are recovering for God's sake!”

“I should be celebrating that I'm not dead! C'mon, pretty, you can ride me and take it slow” he said with a boyish smile, biting his lip.

She smiled back shyly, shaking her head. That man had her wrapped around his finger; he was too good to be true. 

Nodding, she gave him a warning “slowly, okay?”

“Absolutely, angel” he said excited as he laid on the pillows

She hovered him and slowly went down on his cock, making both groan in pleasure. His fingers and multiple orgasms made it so easy to slide in, and she felt so full that his dick reached so deep in her.

She moved slowly, and although it felt good, it made him lose his mind. That was his fault, though. He is the one who suggested that. With that, he guided her to lay down on his chest, keeping her movements as he whispered praises and loving notes against her ear.

“Good girl, baby”, “fuck, you take me so good”, “keep going, lovie, use this cock”, “you are all mine, doll, gonna cum inside you over and over to prove it”.

The intimacy and care felt so good - too nice actually. She could only moan gently as her hips rocked slowly, making both feel him stretching her out perfectly.

Maybe it was their connection or the genuine trust and love built between them, but it all felt magical. Leon was a skeptical man, but in times like this, he believed they were genuine soulmates born to belong to each other.

Filled with love, they came together as they shared a kiss, her gummy walls feeling the moment he coated them with his cum.

'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'

As minutes went by, and as she fell asleep slowly creeping in, he suddenly pushed her on the bed, putting a pillow underneath her as he laid her on her front. He guided her hips up and looked apologetic “just one more love, need to love you good”.

And with only that as a warning, he started to thrust fast into her, setting the pace roughly as their bed shook as she could only moan and whine, biting into the pillow underneath her in ecstasy.

His hips pistoned into her, watching her ass bounce on his hips as he disregarded any medical indication. he just wanted to fuck her the way they have been craving, with raw and needy passion.

“Best pussy I had… my little whore that loves when I stretch her hole, right?”

She only moaned in agreement, overjoyed as he dirty talked her into another upcoming climax.

“Can't even speak, already drunk on this cock, isn't that true, darling?” he asked cockily.

She only nodded, keeping her mouth on the pillow and drooling all around it, sure that if she let's go she's gonna wake the entire neighborhood.

His cock had a white circle on its base, her pussy so creamy from many orgasms that made his thrusts appear seamless. He grunted as he watched his member enter and leave her hole, thinking that he would fight the apocalypse every day if it meant coming home to that.

“Fuck, my slut's pussy is the best at taking me. I'm so proud, honey, love when you are my fuck doll, ready to reward me after the hard work I do”

She couldn't bear when he was like this; he always managed to say the right things, making her clench around him.

“Yeah, you agree, don't you? This pussy belongs to me, and I need to keep using it” he moaned and gave a spank to her ass, making her hips buckle.

He thrusted harder into her, slapping her ass more till it became sensitive enough to ache as he pounded into her behind. He didn't want to accidentally hurt her; there was no need.

The spanks, the thrusting, his voice, it all convoluted in her final orgasm, making her squirt on his shaft and sheets, letting her thighs become messy as well.

Feeling her tightening and her juices oozing out of her, he lost control and came inside her once more, emptying his balls for the last time this night. 

He kissed her once more, leaving to grab some towels and gently clean them, returning to their bed and laying satisfied, closing his eyes and caressing her sweaty hair.

Sleepily, she looks at him with heart eyes, mumbling. “I love you. Thank you for coming back to me. “

Leon smiled, hugging her tighter. “I will always come back to you.”

Even if he had to fight every day for survival, it was worth it. He knew that he was making the world a safer place for her, and that was enough for him.

[idyllcy]

boy it's not that complicated (you should stay in my good graces)

word count: 20.6k || F1 AU || full fic: Ao3 Link || banner by @chesue00

summary: Thank god you went to grab coffee first race of the season.

"That was my coffee."

You pause with the cup, blinking at the guy who's just decided to approach you.

Blue eyes... blonde (his roots are showing) hair, blue and white racing suit on his skin, and you tilt your head. It wasn't as if you were planning on drinking the coffee, you just wanted to move it out of the way so you could make another cup, but how it almost makes you wanna mess with him more. It's bad to mess with the drivers too much, though.

"And who might you be?"

"Leon? Leon S Kennedy. Newest driver of Stratcom."

You tap your chin. Right. The new driver scouted from Raccoon.

"Yeah, the neck says it all."

Leon raises a brow incredulously as you laugh, holding the coffee still as you laugh into your palm. Heavens, you're having fun. You grin at him, eyes squinted in amusement as you calm yourself through deep breaths, failing when you catch a glance of his face again, fanning your face, lost in your own world of amusement. When you catch a glance of your watch, you straighten up almost immediately, exhaling and catching your breath as you calm yourself.

You put Leon's coffee down with a nearly apologetic nod.

"I wasn't planning on drinking it."

"Who might you be?"

"One of the many men behind your team."

"You don't look very... man."

Your lips quirk up in amusement and you coo. "Oh, really?"

You hand him his coffee as yours finishes, boots clicking as you saunter down the hall. Leon stares at his cup and drinks it, sighing as the coffee takes effect slowly throughout the day, watching as the reserves drive back and the engineers figure out what to change. He should be out there, but it seems Stratcom operates slightly differently from Raccoon. Maybe that was what came with a bigger company. Yet, he hangs back anyway, watching as Hunnigan talks to... you. He feels like he should be surprised. Yet, he isn't that much, finding that it's alot more female-dominant in Stratcom than he was expecting.

"How's the car?"

Hunnigan spins around as you continue to look at the numbers, tapping your chin as you huff.

"The tires are thinning out too much after a lap."

"Should we change them?"

"The data from last seasons says yes."

"To the medium ones?"

You nod. "Were we using soft ones?"

"Not that I know of."

Leon wonders whose performance engineer you really are. You seem to be his from the way you're talking to Hunnigan, and he raises a brow as you point at a set of tires.

"Those?"

"I'm sure rookie can handle them." You hum. "Leon, drive."

Leon raises a brow, and you wink.

"Come on. Show everyone a lap."

Leon looks to Hunnigan for approval, sure that he wasn't exactly supposed to be here since the practices were for the car and not him. "Hunnigan?"

"If you're up for it."

Leon takes the helmet from the engineers, sighing as he sits into his car, checking the numbers and wheel, staring at the data presented to him as he feels the wheel. Between break and practice, Leon had to learn everything new with the Stratcom vehicles, and he finds himself surprised at how well-adjusted his hands are. Maybe the mold of his hands was for this exact purpose. He wouldn't know. All he had been doing in practice was grinding as hard as he could. Moving up in companies didn't mean that he would be able to match their old drivers.

"Everything feel alright?" You don't look at him, and he raises a brow.

"It's fine."

"I need good."

"Good."

You check the stats one last time, and let the car out of the garage. Hunnigan connects with Leon to check how his vehicle feels, and you watch the stats on the monitor as Leon finishes a lap, checking all the stats. It starts fine with the newer tires, and you glance at the sensors and let Hunnigan know for Leon to fix a sensor, watching to check how many laps he can take before the tires start wearing out. You update Hunnigan on information that she relays to Leon, and you watch as he speaks back to her. He rings in your headset as you're connected, and you read out information for him. Apparently, he's an ungrateful brat, though.

"God, you talk too much."

"Thanks, I'll talk less once you make it out of this race alive."

Leon makes it in for a fifth lap, and you're taken off the line, back to watching the sensor data as you tell Hunnigan to have Leon reset another sensor. You take the note down on the side with a sharpie to run a sensor check before he goes out on the field again the next practice. This one was yielding a bunch of issues that you were sure had been solved, and you grumble as you stare at the engine. The tenth lap yields the necessity of a pit stop, and you tell Hunnigan to jump back.

"Box, now."

"What's wrong?" Leon frowns at Hunnigan's command, pulling into the pit.

"Vibrations. The vehicle isn't steady." You call over it, making changes you deem necessary within the two seconds that everything is changed, and Leon speeds off again. You check to see if the danger has subsided, and you hum when it has. The next score laps are smooth, and when Hunnigan has Leon pull in to do a better check, you hop off your desk and get your hands on. Leon watches as you glance at the numbers and then adjust sensors, sending him out again for a final handful of laps with different tires to check how Leon's doing. You find that he does better with the medium-grip tires, but you still wonder if you could move up in terms of hardness to see how well he drives with them. You make one final pit stop with a full change to have his tires changed, and you watch as Leon struggles with control.

Hunnigan tells Leon to pull over, but Leon turns her down.

"Leon. You aren't controlling them well."

"I know what I'm doing." Leon huffs. "We didn't have the funds for this back in Raccoon. Let me race a little more at a lower speed."

You watch the numbers as he slows down, and you watch as he makes a dozen rounds before returning to regular speed, much more adjusted now.

"Is this alright?"

"It's good." Hunnigan reads from your hand motion, telling Leon to return to the pit.

"He's a fast learner."

"We wouldn't have picked him had he not." Hunnigan glances at the numbers as Leon pulls in, and you sigh.

"We'll start you with hard tires at the start to keep you away from a box for as long as possible." Hunnigan nods at you. "We'll try something else during fp2 to see if you adjust and respond well to it. Take a break. You did well."

You frown at the numbers recorded, and you have the engineers check on the sensors on the car. There isn't much else you can do, and a brief talk with the majority of the team confirms that there shouldn't be any other problems, but the car is taken out for one last drive to check that everything is in order, and the garage is closed for the short break in between. You don't get a break during that time, an informal meeting of engineers gathering together as you go over what has been adjusted and how it would affect performance. You enjoy it, truly, but you're also tired of talking to some of these old men so often.

Too bad summer break has just finished.

You spin the pen in hand as you continue staring at the infinite prints that the printer spat out at your request, and you groan.

"Everything good?"

"I don't have any of Leon's stats. How does he drive?" You flip through the binder.

"He drives... normal. If there even is a bar for that. We're not sure how he's going to react to the rest of the drivers, but so far his driving is normal from his history." Hunnigan hums. "His tires wear out often, but he's good at overtaking. He's horrible at car management, though."

"He's not going to like falling back."

"Right. It's also why you found that he did so many more pit stops."

"Well, awful as he is with management, at least it's not like Krauser." You mumble. "He drives a little too aggressively."

"But he yields results. You know that."

"Yeah." You huff. "Well, he won't be winning now that Ada's back on the track."

"No one wins against Ada."

"Yeah." You mumble. "Her defense is too good. She's too good at quali."

"She's just good at being fast." You hum. "Not that I'm complaining. I love seeing women on the track in those cars."

"Wrong team." Hunnigan rolls her eyes. "Who knows. You might be a spy."

"With a salary like this? In your dreams." You roll your eyes back. "Wesker couldn't pay me half as much as this. He doesn't even like me."

"He doesn't like anyone."

"Fair."

Fp2 runs around and you go back to adjusting the car, not too many things going wrong this time. The time slot truly messes with you, and you yawn as you press another cup of coffee to your lips. Hunnigan talks to the driver on comms as you read through the numbers, surprised at how long it can last when Leon isn't at the wheel.

"Jesus, Leon sucks at car management."

One of the engineers in the back holds back a laugh, and you grimace.

"That wasn't funny, John."

"I know." He snorts.

You learn to make peace with the fact that Leon's going to be making far more pit stops than necessary in the race.

Leon warms up in the morning before qualifying, stepping to the side as Hunnigan runs through the data with the rest of the team, watching as someone else drives his car around to run final check-ups. He listens as Hunnigan runs it down for him, his lip quirking upward as he grins.

"Hunnigan, you always look great without your glasses. Give me your number when we get back?"

Hunnigan rolls her eyes. "We're on duty."

"Wrap it up, white boy." You interject. "You get to ask her out when you aren't wearing your car out in three laps."

"Just admit it. You're jealous I don't flirt with you during quali."

"Leon Scott Kennedy. My job is to make sure you make it out of a race alive. If you really wanna do all of your publicity nonsense you should really go find Ada now that she's back."

"I missed her." Leon clicks his tongue.

"He didn't." Hunnigan sighs. "They're best friends in private."

"Hunnigan!"

You shrug, grin on your face as you tilt your head.

"Truly?"

"Everything they do is for publicity."

"I see." You grin. "Well, if you ever want to go the extra mile for publicity, be sure to blow her a kiss when she places on the podium today."

"You don't think I'll win?"

You smile. "God knows what weird upgrade Ada added to her own car now that she's back."

Leon finds you frustrating. He knows his main engineers are females. Hunnigan was incredible with how smooth she was in terms of operation, but despite his best chances, she wasn't the greatest at understanding what he meant by certain words. She's older than he is, if he thinks about it. He assumed that since Stratcom was bigger than Raccoon, maybe they'd have the more experienced at the engineering deck. Well, not his problem. As long as he could race better than he did in Raccoon.

His time is better despite his wheels being worn out. Arguably, he's placed somewhere up with Krauser now. He used to dream of that back in Raccoon.

"Good to go." You confirm.

Leon starts with his time as you take note of Hunnigan's screen, watching your own numbers as the sensors indicate everything. You don't need to talk to Leon all that much. It's mostly Hunnigan's job, but the good thing you'd argue is that Hunnigan isn't one for all that much talking either. You end up being the one to call some things when she's too focused on having him move forward. She doesn't quite reign Leon in. There's a lack of balance that you don't really want to bring up to the superiors. Leon's new. If you request someone who clicks with him better, it wouldn't be too great on either end. Besides, Hunnigan's the best to offer outside of Krauser's nearly invincible team.

You take a peek at Krauser's time so far, and you hum.

"Aim for first, but make sure to land in q3." Hunnigan reads the positioning.

"Got it."

There isn't much to say to Leon when he's in qualifying. He's plenty capable of setting good times. You sit on the side as he makes laps around, placing first out of the majority. If you were right, Ada should be in the slot once the next car moves out. You love her. It doesn't matter if she's in Wesker, she's iconic.

Well, considering the publicity, Leon might just speed up once Ada hits the track.

You watch as she enters the track, and you grin as Leon's speed grows quicker and quicker on the track.

"Is this because of Ada?"

You tap the screen for Hunnigan, and she nods.

"Leon you have a five-second gain. You have one final lap." Hunnigan checks his time.

"Make that six."

You nod. "Sensors are good."

Leon drifts in the corner turns, speeding up as fast as he can, and you hold your breath as he races past the finish line with the six seconds he promised. Time ends as he drives back, and you check the car. It's fine. A lot of systems are roughed up because Leon sucks at taking care of vehicles, but it's not awful. If he drives slower than this, he should be able to place on the podium if he tries hard enough. Well, granted he doesn't end up in more pit stops than necessary. That's always an awful loss of time.

"Leon." You call for him as he grumbles in the car. A short break in between before q3.

"What?"

"Stop trying to drift. I know Nascar makes it look beautiful and all, but without control, you're going to kill both the car and you. You're also losing speed when you do that."

"It's what I did in Raccoon."

"You're creating more drag when you drift."

He huffs.

"How do you not know that? Did Raccoon let you drift?"

"You didn't watch my old races?" He raises a brow. "I drive dangerously. I corner opponents."

"It's great, but only works if you manage to wear them down. From the stats Hunnigan got of you, you aren't causing enough losses in time for others. You can't chase at your own expense. Chase at theirs."

"Then adjust my car."

"Leon. This race is testing waters for you. Either you do what you do good, or you play safe."

Leon thinks about it.

"I'll do what I do good."

"Well, you better yield results tomorrow during the race."

Leon offers you a half-assed smile.

"I want you to back it up on the attitude if you don't place, white boy."

"Is that all I am to you? White boy?"

You shrug, turning on your heel. "Better get rested. Q3 starts soon."

Leon places fifth in the q3, and you raise a brow at him. Had he been the fastest, he would have been able to do better, but he didn't. You don't exchange words with him when he returns, brow raised in amusement as he clicks his tongue at you. He's going to say something with that smartass tongue of his.

"Engineers."

"Can't say shit when we make your car, Leon." You hum. "Rest up for the race tomorrow. Better get a move on."

"Aren't you supposed to work with me?"

"Not with that attitude, no."

"You ready to fix my car tomorrow?"

"As long as you get on that podium, pretty boy."

Your lips quirk up as you watch a furious red paint Leon's face.

Not used to being flirted with back, huh?

When the big day rolls around, Leon finds himself next to you again, staring at the car as you make a final adjustment and check the numbers on the screen. Hunnigan helps out, and Leon watches as his car is rebuilt and he's told to drive out into formation. Seven minutes. Seven minutes is all he can— he sounds like Wesker right now. At least he placed fifth. It's not too hard to race past others. If he plays his cards right, he should be... safe. At the very least, he should be able to force others into a corner as promised.

The first handful of laps are fine. He manages to race past to third place, steering steady, car completely overtaking them as he gains on second. That's all that matters. His car is doing fine, and Hunnigan hasn't told him anything. Then, by the time he's steadied his spot, it's become apparent that the car has an issue. He speaks up, radio button pressed on his end.

"Hunnigan, car feels unsteady."

"Box—"

You put a hand on her to stop her.

"Fall back." You pull at her mic, eyes still on your screen. "Car's overheating. Don't box yet."

Hunnigan nods. You don't mean to overtake her, but it takes too long to get her to tell Leon, and you watch as Leon falls back in the race, still keeping his position in front of the majority of the cars. He's already placing better than he has before. He's aiming for first, but you're aiming to get him out of it alive. You don't want another incident of the car spinning and crashing. The halo was a saving grace, but it wasn't something you wished to rely on. It doesn't matter if he wanted his car customized so that he could overtake and drive even more aggressively. You understand he's aiming to one-up Ada since she should be rusty, but you're not letting him hurt himself.

"You sure?" Hunnigan raises a brow.

"You make the call, but the vitals are all steady. The engine's overheating right now. The wheels can hold out for at least two more laps. They don't have any required pit stops this race."

"Got it."

"Twelve more seconds, and then get back to us to see if it's better." You nod at Hunnigan, back to watching the numbers. Leon falls back behind the other cars, and you keep an eye on the car as the engine cools down.

"Still unsteady."

"Box." Hunnigan orders.

"Pit crew on standby." You speak into the mic, watching as the car moves through the circuit to get to the pit. "Five seconds!"

Pit crew stations themselves as Leon drives in, and Hunnigan nods at the numbers. You keep an eye on the screen as he speeds back off. The numbers have returned to normal, and depending on the feel that Leon gets out on the road, you can rest easy for another handful of laps.

"It's good now."

"Got it."

You sit back in the seat watching as Leon races past the people who had left him behind, shooting past two cars as he returns to the top seven. You wonder if he can race past another four, but it seems that he's alright, forcing himself past another car as Hunnigan tells him his DRS is active. He flies past another one on the curve as he huffs.

"Tell that performance engineer that I'm gonna get my stupid car fixed for the next race."

"Leon, focus on the road." Hunnigan sighs.

It doesn't take long for Leon to be back for another pit stop, this time on your command, his tires worn out too fast, changed into something slightly harder as he races off again. You wonder if that's enough. It should be. You watch for the rest of his car as he enters the final leg of the race, third place returned to him after the pit, his driving growing increasingly more aggressive. You're glad you gave him harder tires, and you watch as he goes neck to neck with Krauser makes you amused. Krauser doesn't respond well, nearly forcing him into the wall as Leon falls back. You're glad Hunnigan makes the call, and Leon takes third place behind Krauser for the safety of himself.

You watch as Leon finishes up on his side of the race, top three tucked under his belt as he slows and parks in third, hopping off his car with a wink and kiss blown at Ada. You raise a brow at the broadcast, headphones retired to your neck as his car is checked. You didn't make any changes that were illegal, the other engineers made sure of it, so you watch as Leon races over to the team. You step to the back of the team, Hunnigan smiling at you, and you hum. Another win for the team.

You adore Ada, but truly, she was the only good thing in Wesker's company. Luis was only there to be the face card when Ada wasn't present, and though he placed top ten always, he never placed on the podium. You're impressed that Leon managed to place, and over the cheering, you hear Leon yell a "thank you" followed by "Ingrid" and you hold a laugh back.

"First name, eh?"

"Leon." She sighs.

Oh, right. You should get to those edits as soon as the podium high wears off from Leon. You still need to know what he needs adjusted. It wouldn't be surprising if he wanted something that his old car has that he's used. You almost laugh at yourself for how work-brained you are despite placing on the podium, but after growing used to Krauser on the podium, you're kind of unsurprised. You have faith in the team. Besides, with Ada back, it wasn't like Krauser could really place... first anymore.

The team's win is celebrated how you expect it to be, champagne popped and alcohol thoroughly passed around, and you stay for a little to thank the pit crew and engineers, settling for the corner of the room when you finish, water in hand, telling people that it was tequila. The water is cool against your lips, and you watch as the rest of the team parties. You're sure you'll be getting random confessions from random people if the night progresses any further. You really only talk to Leon, though. It doesn’t matter.

When debriefing finishes, you press your mug to your lips, blinking at the numbers as you watch Hunnigan speak. There's going to be a change in... race engineer? It's surprising to you, and you do a double take as it's announced that Krauser has left the team. He paid the fine? Who even— oh. You blink at the announcement that he's been moved to Plaga. Ah. One of their investors, who was it again, the Salazars? They must have paid the fine. Krauser is always looking for more money anyway.

"Which brings us to the point. We are moving up Helena Harper, our best F2 racer this past season. Hunnigan will become her race engineer, and we are moving up our performance engineer for Leon to race engineer."

"What." You blink at the screen, blood running cold. You did not sign up for this promotion. Highly unprofessional of them, but it does explain why you had been called into a meeting last morning with everyone else. Hunnigan had hinted at it, and you had said you'd be okay with taking the position if it came to it. You didn't realize it meant that you would be promoted on the spot. God, now you have to work with a whole new performance engineer that isn't yourself. You might die.

You hear Leon groan in the back.

Helena is coming as the new driver. That’s truly all you pick up outside of your own complaints, and you sigh. You're not excited for your own training. You understand all of the numbers that Hunnigan sees on the weekends, but it doesn't mean you like it. She doesn't need to make that many calls with Leon during the race because it seems that he's been racing alright, but you know from the role of managing the car that Leon wears the car down fast. The calls you'd have to make would be arguably more frequent. Well, not that Hunnigan was doing a bad job. She left a lot of the strategy to Leon. You probably wouldn't. The look in Leon's eyes when he thanked Hunnigan might've been gratuity, but he hungers for more... what in the wattpad bullshit are you saying? Leon wanted to be better. He craves the seat of winner after his years of publicity with Ada. It doesn't take a genius to know. It's why he swapped over to Stratcom.

"You gonna help me win?"

"I don't know, Leon. Will I?"

"You have to."

"Won't motivate me if I don't get something in return. You get paid glorious amounts of money and I get little when compared to you."

"You want a cut of my pay?"

"Nah." You grin. "I'll tell you what this greed of my craves after each race. Don't worry. Won't ever ask for more than ten percent of your salary."

Leon grimaces. Ten percent is still quite the cut.

"Won't ask for money. I'll let you pick eventually." You hum. "For the next race, a dinner in Italy."

"Sure you not asking me out on a date?"

"In your dreams, white boy."

Leon shrugs, offering his hand anyway.

You shake his hand on the offer.

Wednesday rolls around and you're flown over to Monza, Italy. Preparation on Thursday throws you in for a loop, blinking harshly in the morning meeting with the people and debrief on all of the new changes. Leon's changes had been implemented, and Helena had a new vehicle as well, which makes you question just how much they were stacking on Helena. Is it equity? You're not going to ask. The red-eye flight is enough to make you grouchy. You don't enjoy the hours, coffee in hand as you wonder if you should just invest in espresso shots.

At the very least, you get through the morning meetings and understand Leon's god-awful adjustments on his car. You need to watch him practice tomorrow. Leon's in on Thursday in the morning, visible grouch on his face when he lands, and you sigh as you wave at him.

"No paparazzi?"

"It's why you take red-eyes." You yawn, beckoning him over with a wave as the two of you step over to the chauffeur.

"Why'd you pick me up personally?"

"Saw the edits made to your car. Need your approval. They sent me over with a tablet connected to the PC. Take a look."

Leon looks at the numbers, brow raised as he blinks at the photos that are on the tablet, frowning at the wheel.

"They didn't make it how I wanted it."

"That's literally what you were describing."

"No." He frowns. "Button placement. The reason Hunnigan and I were barely talking was because I kept pressing the wrong button. My muscle memory can only go so far."

"We have a dummy, so you can practice with that. We'll move buttons around next race. You told the performance engineer, right?"

"I don't understand why he didn't understand I wanted the button down at the bottom."

"He's new. Cut him some slack." You pause. "Or don't. You're the driver."

The two of you hop off as you thank the chauffeur, and you wave Leon goodbye as you beeline to the back. You're kind of glad you don't need to look at all of the statistics for performance, but you're also not happy that you have to do all of the smiling and chatting with Leon. Well, unhappy wouldn't be correct. Leon's just got an ego big enough to blow up the track, that's all. You'll help him place. You're not paid nearly enough for anything else. You help out the team with checking the stats on the car, and Leon lingers in the back for the track walk. You told him to wait, and both of you are fairly surprised he listened.

You make some final edits as Leon watches, and he has his own input, pointing certain things out and asking why some other things were that way, and the other engineers explain to him as you talk to the mechanics. Most of the edits are approved by Leon, and you have him sit in to have a feel at it, and once his concerns are all solved, he gives the approval nod. You give him a thumbs up back, checking the stats from the previous year to start thinking of strategy. The strategy engineer hands you a file for you to read through, and you sigh.

"Relay that to me."

"Track walk!" You call for Leon.

You read through the strategy while out on the walk with Leon, looking through the booklet as you pause to consider how much of this Leon would actually use.

"Are you planning on listening to us? Or is it going to be your own again?"

"Do you think I should?"

"Shouldn't you be asking the strategist?"

"You're the one in the mic."

"Fair." You hum. "Do you want to place?"

"Your job is to help me place."

"Then, you keep it in the back of your mind while driving. Changes can always happen." You hum. "We'll aim for first, but don't chase someone down at the expense of your own car."

"How can I force Ada into it?"

"She's gonna pit only once if the race allows it." You hum. "She knows how to take care of her car."

"And Krauser?"

"Plaga offered him more money. His driving style will be the same, but it's also worth mentioning that the Plaga cars aren't in top shape. You know how they are."

"Stars?"

"Not your problem unless you somehow fall neck to neck with Redfield." You shake your head. "He's the beast of fifth place. Just use him as a guard dog."

"That's a little—"

"It's rude, but it's the truth." You flip through the book, jumping on the track. "We'll send you in medium tires, and you'll probably stay in medium unless you want soft."

"Probably not." Leon shakes his head. "Are we pitting extra?"

"From your performance, most likely."

Leon clicks his tongue.

"Focus on chasing and pushing others into pit stops. Second place... just keep an eye out for anyone else in the back." You pause. "You can also try defensive with Helena."

"The two car drs defense."

"Yep." You glance at the turn. "No rain prediction for tomorrow."

"Alright." Leon raises a brow. "In the case that there is rain, it's baby for light rain, royal for heavy downpour."

"And medium?"

"It's a gradient. Just tell me a shade of blue between it."

"That's a lot of colors." You hum. "Storm is midnight."

"Got it."

"Time..." You pause. "How insane are you willing to sound to the public?"

"I'm already crazy to them."

"Then, instead of colors, we use HSL."

"God, you're crazy." Leon pauses. "Saturation for time and Luminance for position? Color's always going to be blue."

"Yeah. You able to learn that before a rain race?" You raise a brow. "We can draw a chart."

"Better start using it soon. There's no wind here but we can practice in downtime."

Fp1 and Fp2 run fast for Leon. He's adjusted to the wheel, dialing in to you to speak, telling you how the car feels, and you report it to the rest of the engineers. Adjustments are made as he goes for another two laps, thumbs up given as everyone retires for the night. You flip through the strategies from the engineers as you sit in the hotel bar lounge, drink pressed to your lips as you mark through the file.

"Fancy seeing you here."

"Leon." You raise a brow. "I thought you had a house here."

"Under construction." He hums. "What's a hotel stay for me on my salary, though?"

"Yeah, I can see that." You hum. "You ready for quali?"

"How long are you staying after? For that dinner."

"Two days? I fly out shortly after."

"Figured." He pauses. "Will you pay if I place first?"

"If you place first? Sure." You hum. "Team goes out on a dinner anyways. I just wanted a local place since you're from around here."

"I stay with family when I'm in Italy, yeah. Maybe I'll take you to my nonna's place."

"Bringing me home already? Bold move, Kennedy." You smile.

"If I place first, we're going to nonna's."

"What makes you think I wanna meet your grandma?"

"Am I not hot enough for you?"

You eye him, shaking your head. "Too bad you're not my type."

Leon does well. He always does. You take him to third place, halfway into the Grand Prix in Italy, and Leon clicks his tongue.

"When are we pitting?"

"You need to pit?" You raise a brow. "What's losing control?"

"Nothing. I'm calculating whether or not it would be smart for me to start cornering Krauser and force him to retire."

You can practically hear the venom in Leon's voice.

"FIA's going to beat your ass if you actually pull through."

"Stratcom's known for aggression. Yes or no?'

"If you do, you need five seconds from him to pit."

"Copy that."

You watch as Leon chases Krauser in the back, tail catching dangerously close as DRS activates, sending him soaring past Krauser.

"Got it."

"Good job."

Leon gains a ten-second lead over thirteen laps, and you listen to Leon and his words.

"How's the car?"

"Seems alright."

"If we need to pit, you have the time too. Keep going. Eleven behind, four in front."

"Leave it to me." Leon clicks.

You watch as Leon goes neck to neck with Ada, eyes on the road as he barely squeezes past her in a corner, foot on the gas.

"Two second gain."

"Need more." He grumbles. "Mic off. Call for pit only."

"Received."

Despite the banter that Leon seems to offer you outside of the car, you know better than to hit his buttons while he's in a car racing two hundred miles an hour. You keep and eye on it, all channels to you open, waiting for the word to pit. Leon's done an alright job, and he's already boxed once, but it seems to be fine to just let him keep going. You're not to pressed, and it seems the performance engineer isn't all that much either. You catch a quick glance, and nothing sits in the red. That's fine.

"Do you think I can keep first?"

"You're Leon S Kennedy. If it's gonna be anyone, it'll be you." You hum. No harm in some words of encouragement.

"That's what I like to hear, sweetheart."

You blink with a concerned look on your face, and you watch as Ada closes in on Leon. His car's wearing down by staying in first, and though his car seemed to have been doing fine, a pit stop in the next handful of laps wasn't out of the question.

"Push two more laps then box. Ada behind one second."

"Son of a—"

You watch as Leon's cut off, and you hold back a laugh.

"Don't get too cocky, Kennedy." You hum. "Tail behind. Twenty laps left."

"Roger."

Leon circles two more laps before circling back to the pit, full change as he's told to go rogue.

You're sure you've never seen Leon actually drive how he wants to, and he combines with Helena to ward off the rest of the cars before racing into the final ten laps with a bolt, gaining distance behind Ada as he's on the final three laps. You're surprised he even knows how to drive defense.

"Time."

"Three laps. 2.4 seconds behind Ada."

Leon tries speeding past her, cutting corners and trying to wear her car down, but it's to no avail as she cuts him off each time. Nothing's called because no rules are broken, and the two touch wheels at once point. The rest of the engineers watch the race with their breaths held as they make the final lap, and Leon grows increasingly more frustrated, curses flying through the radio as he tries overtaking again, cut off as Ada swerves.

"Fuck!"

"You got this, Leon. You're placing podium no matter what. Just focus on overtaking. You got this." You read. "One second. DRS active."

Leon barely squeezes past Ada on a corner, grumbling as he presses on the gas. His car gains only a little over Ada’s but it’s the finish line, so it doesn’t matter.

He breaks past the finish line first just barely first, front of his car ahead mere centimeters. The rest of the team cheers as you smile at the screen, lips quirked up. You get why Hunnigan enjoyed this job. The adrenaline from winning could be addicting. You tap your cheek as you're pulled in for a hug, and you laugh. Your head is spinning with too much dopamine for you to be able to cheer or yell. It's too loud for that.

"Beautifully done, Leon."

"Thanks. Thank you for your hard work."

"Pleasure's mine."

You pop off the headphones and disconnect to cheer, racing over where Leon has parked, jumping with the rest of the team as Leon spots you in the crowd, jumping over to you with a yell as you barely catch him, caught off guard. The rest of the engineers hold you up as you stumble, and he runs back to Helena. Helena laughs as Leon cheers. You clap for him as everyone settles down for the podium. Awards are given, and Leon shakes his champagne to spray at Ada, much to her complaints.

"You asshole!" She sprays her own back at him.

"Hey!"

The media goes insane over it. It's normal for them to. People drink up every single interaction between the two, and the two of them feed into whatever fantasies people have. When half of Leon's bottle is gone, it's pointed at you instead, and you hold your hands up to cover your face from Leon's champagne, and he sticks his tongue out at you. You yell in response, and the rest of the bottle bubbles out on its own. Leon's hair is sticky with champagne, shaking his head as the water flies everywhere, laugh on his lips as his smile lines are evident, head thrown back in glee with the trophy in his hands.

"You good?" Hunnigan laughs as you groan.

"I need to shower now."

She purses her lips. "Insanely hilarious back and forth between the two of you, by the way."

You stay back for a while for autographs, raising a brow when a fan presents marriage papers to you as a joke, shrugging as you ask him how much he makes in a year.

Leon steps up behind you, taking the papers.

"Not enough."

"Oh, hey, star of the show." You raise a brow. "He didn't even get to answer."

"Nonna wants you for dinner."

"Tonight? What about your afterparty?"

"Italian tradition. Always gonna be nonna's on Sunday night." He signs the back of the marriage papers instead, forcing the pen back into your hand as you raise a brow. "I'll be every year from now on. Come on."

"What?"

"We're getting married."

"In your dreams, white boy." You pull out a notepad, signing it and handing it to the fan.

"Kennedy's a nice last name, hm?"

"I like mine as is." You wave. "I'm retiring."

"Leon! What's that about Nonna?"

"Taking my engineer for a nice dinner." Leon hums, winking at the crowd. "Promised dinner at. my favorite place if I placed. Favorite place happens to be my beloved nonna's."

They cheer.

Leon laughs. "Victory celebrations with a friend."

Dinner is great. You're thrilled when Leon's grandma actually cooks, eyes practically glowing as you thank her. Leon translates the majority of the time, telling you with red on his ears of how she's delighted that he's brought one of his engineers home finally. You answer any questions she has, and she tells you that her father used to be an engineer, and how Leon's grandfather used to take him to his go-kart practices. You listen intently, her pasta shoveled in your mouth as she helps you to another offering.

"Nonna."

"Nonna speaks french too, if you happen to know that."

"Grand-mère ta cuisine est le vrai MVP de cette cours." You give her a thumbs up, hand held over your mouth as she laughs.

"T'es trop mignionne!" She laughs. "Merci, chère fille."<br />

<small><small><small>'You're too cute!' 'thank you, sweet girl'</small></small></small>

"Merci pour cuisiner." You thank her. "Ah, je vais retourner l'année prochain."<br />

<small><small><small>'thank you for cooking.' 'Ah, I'm coming back next year'</small></small></small>

"Léon, sarà meglio che sia la fidanzata l'anno prossimo." The grandma points her fork at him.

"Nonna!"

She clicks her tongue.

You don't have the heart to tell Leon that you understand just enough Italian to understand what his grandma has just said to him. You'll play dumb. Arguably, it's for the better. You tilt your head as Leon waves his hand, and you laugh.

Leon takes you back to the hotel, smile on his face as he raises a brow.

"You owe me dinner?"

"Nuh uh. We didn't pay at mamie's." You shrug. "Look forward to what I'll get for helping you in next race."

Your debrief in the morning is enough to tear you from limb to limb.

"I'm not flirting back. It was just a congratulatory dinner." You argue.

"It's fine." Leon laughs. "I don't mind."

"Leon."

"My publicity is being a fuckboy. It's fine." He waves off the concern. "Rather than media stuff, I want my mic somewhere on top on my wheel."

"That can be arranged."

"Anything else?"

You note down what Leon says, doodles in the corner of your paper as you think of all the work that the data analysts are doing. You're exhausted from staying out til two with Leon last night, and though the pasta had been Michelin star-worthy, you were still tired. You yawn halfway through, and Leon raises a brow at you.

"You got a problem, racer?"

"If you call me that one more time I'm going to reach over this table and punch you." You grumble. 

The season is always nightmare after nightmare. You have little to no downtime in between races, and it becomes increasingly apparent that Ada's adapted to Leon's racing style in the next two races. No matter what adjustments are made, it seems that she just knows. It frustrates his engineers to no end, and by the meeting three races into the season, your head is thrown back in annoyance. Maybe you actually aren't being paid enough for this.

"Don't wanna work for me anymore?"

"No." You groan. "Give me a second."

Leon's trying. You're aware of that. You're also Ada's biggest fan, so you know well that she's one of the quickest thinkers on the grid alongside her engineer. Wesker has way too many years both on and off the track to know what calls to make at what points in time. Maybe Leon was right. Maybe you are stuck questioning whether or not someone with more experience could do better than you, but you're also too spiteful to just step down from your position.

"Ada marathon. Tonight. My hotel room." You point at Leon.

"Don't need to tell me twice." Leon winks.

"That's 144 races." The strategy engineer grimaces.

"Then 144 races we will watch." You sigh. "I'll report everything to you tomorrow over coffee."

"Good luck." He sighs. "We can split half and half."

"72 races is still... a lot." You pause. "How about three-way?"

Leon sighs. "48 races per person sounds awful."

"Well, I know what I'll be doing tonight." You heave. "God, I need a smoke."

Leon raises a brow. "You don't even smoke."

"Gonna start today thanks to you."

"You're on 24 races from when she first started and then 24 of her most recent races." You point at the strategist. "I'll do the ones between that, and then Leon can do the middle races. We'll split it when the meeting's over."

"Got it."

The rest of the meeting runs over the logistics of the car, and you huddle with the other two to split up the races. You feel like a... Haikyuu character. Who are you? Oikawa? You're not trying to catch a case of being the worst anime villain to ever exist or something. You're sure this is normal. Ada may have never brought up how she prepares for races, but it doesn't take a genius to know how well-rounded she is on the track. She's too good at blocking overtakes. It's why Leon struggled. He may have been able to do it the first time because she had been caught off guard, but she was too good at what she did.

You note down how she drives, hands delicate on her wheel and eyes constantly on the watch. You listen to what Wesker tells her, noting everything of worth down, and you sigh when you watch the races she first started against Leon. You find that Leon's grown much more tame in racing, his earliest racing style wild and violent, cornering people into walls and blocking overpasses. You find that he blocks Ada at one point, leading to his first win of that season. After that, it becomes apparent that he only needs to pass Ada, preferably when she pits. Ada used to pit twice rather than once. Maybe that was the strategy needed.

You take the note down.

  Pit crew speed ↑ + Leon aggression ↑ = stopping Ada?

You start the next race.

There's something about Leon's old way of driving that Ada wasn't able to control.

An element of chaos? An element of a lack of understanding? An element of unpredictability? You don't know. You should study Leon's old driving style prior to joining Stratcom as well. It's always much more suffocating in a bigger company when you get to take more risks in a small one. You raise a brow at the race that Leon and Ada trade first and second like it's second nature, and you get where this whole publicity stunt started. It's hard to ignore the way they look at each other with such intensity when they're on the podiums and listening to each other talk.

You place a hand over your mouth. "...wait... I dig this."

You go back to the rest of Ada's races prior to her hiatus, and you find that it's truly the lack of predictability that Leon used to display.

Never let 'em know your next move... or something.

You knock out halfway through and finish the rest in the morning with your coffee, lack of new things to note down as you head down for breakfast with the other two.

"So?"

"You go first." You sigh. "Mike?"

"Sorry. I stayed up way too late." He sighs. "She's an all-rounder. I don't have any notes other than that. She struggled at first in her first twenty races but by her thirtieth she was picking up pace and analyzing her opponents. It's kind of impressive. But her most recent races indicate that Leon's just not posing a threat. It seems that she can just predict everything."

"You wanna hear my takeaway?" You raise a brow. "Leon needs to start racing like a madman again. That's my takeaway."

"No way." Mike reasons. "That's not safe for him."

"It's the only way Leon's gonna be able to outperform Ada within the rest of the year for that position of champion." You reason. "If he doesn't go back to that unpredictability factor he used to have, then he'll never outsmart Ada."

"Oh, so I need to go rogue again? Because I was going to say that Ada struggles with predicting people who don't have a typical race strat." Leon hums. "She struggled with predicting Wesker before he became her boss. She struggles with unpredictability. I just have to throw her off enough. She's never going to expect me to go back to driving like a madman now that I'm in Stratcom."

"Upper management's going to be mad if we waste all our resources on you." Mike clicks his tongue.

"They won't complain when I bring back their first gold in forever."

"Mike, you keep it under wraps, alright?" You raise a brow. "Just proceed as normal."

"Not that they'd believe me anyway." He gets up from his chair. "I'll leave it to you two. I'll send you a plan anyway. I don't expect either of you to follow it."

You give him a thumbs up.

"If we place podium, what do you want?"

"Oh, you still remember?" You raise a brow. "What even is there to do in Texas? Oh. Dinner again?"

"If I place first your treat."

"Alright. I doubt that."

"You really?"

"I don't know. You've gotta show me, Kennedy."

Leon places fifth in qualifying. You're unsurprised, but what comes as a surprise is Leon telling you through the mic that he has it under control. All you need to do tell him when to pit. You suppose that it's a lot more amusing this way, but mic off or not, you have not much of a choice when Leon's just straight up shredding his tires.

"Box, box. Pit, Leon." You grumble. "You're only allowed to be crazy when I give you the flag."

"I know what I'm doing."

"No the fuck you don't." You hum. "You're losing time if you're the only one shredding your tires. Learn to force others into the pit and not yourself, hm?"

"I can't force Ada into the pit unless she's right in front of me."

"It can be anyone in front of you. Surely you've picked up a thing or two from all those youtube videos."

"You make me sound so unprofessional by saying that."

"Pit crew." You click the button.

Leon slides in and out, gaining back his position in top five.

"Alright. Tell me how to."

"You know how to. You used to do it."

"Say less."

Leon forces past the car in fourth in arguably one of the most narrow turns you've ever seen, grimacing at the view from his car as he laughs into the mic.

"Did you catch that?"

"I'd like to catch something bigger. Keep pushing."

"Tsk. Was that not enough?"

"You can do better."

"Roger that."

You watch as Leon slides through, and you glance at the weather.

"Rain in twenty laps."

"Color."

"I'd say something like sky blue. Sky blue, 6 percent, two c west." You read from the prediction. "Do you think you'll need wet tires?"

"Sky blue, huh? Probably not. We'll see. How many left?"

"Thirty."

You know the announcers are going to say something weird about the weather system you've set up, but quite frankly you do not care. It's not your problem. Leon cuts into third, and you sigh into the mic. Time to let the poor guy do what he's been wanting to this whole time.

"Engage... chaos."

"Oh, I've been waiting for that one." He laughs, turning his mic off as he pushes, engine revving. Smoke comes out as a result, but the performance engineer doesn't mention anything of it. It looks normal from your end, and he swerves to cut off Krauser from second, no doubtedly laughing from the dopamine high his brain was experiencing.

"Reel it in, Kennedy. Don't sell yourself to Ada yet."

"Can I stay second?"

"Engine looks good." You read.

"Got it, sweetheart."

You make another face.

Yet, he stays steady for the majority of the race, cutting Krauser off without needing you to ask him to, forcing Krauser into a position that you're sure the poor guy is NOT going to like. Leon forces Krauser into corners and slowing down, defending his position of second while no one's close to him in the back.

"Redfield in fourth, 1.2 seconds— 0.7 seconds from Krauser. Push, Leon." You read.

"Don't need to tell me that twice."

Leon pushes past Krauser and leaves him to deal with Chris, racing to the front as he tries closing in the gap between him and Ada.

"Gap?"

"Twelve seconds. Come on, Kennedy."

"Rogue when arrived?"

"Wear her out."

"Roger that."

You wonder if Leon actually understands what you mean by wearing her out, but you don't question it too much. If he doesn't then he can just try speeding past her based on pure adrenaline. His car was adjusted to be able to hit 240 in optimal conditions, and you watch as the rain arrives.

"Wet on track?"

"Dry." He reports. "Not too much rain yet. Lap?"

"Fifteen left."

"Copy."

You watch the rain and predictions, pausing when you notice Leon's car isn't running as smoothly.

"Pit, pit. Box, Leon."

"What's my gain on Krauser?"

"Seven seconds."

"Tell pit crew not to mess this up."

"Copy."

Leon speeds in to the pit, changing in two seconds, speeding back out in order to gain back on Krauser.

"Lap."

"Twelve." You call. "Ada five seconds, Krauser five."

"DRS zone?"

"Overtake if possible."

"Taking the risk." Leon clicks open his DRS, speed increase wonderful for his car as he flies past Ada, slowing to block her immediately.

"Block or go?"

"Block for now. Go will be called soon."

"Roger that."

You know Wesker is seething in his seat right now. Ada may not be affected, but you're sure Leon playing rough is a pain in the ass for Wesker. So, you don't think it's out of the question for him to be ordering Ada to try new things. Luckily for you, you had watched enough of Wesker's races to understand what he like doing. Surprise or not, eventually you run out of cards to play. You happen to know the majority of his cards, so you have Leon block Ada every chance he gets, forcing her into a corner and forcing her to slow for her own safety. Ada values her life. Leon? Not as much.

"Leon, final lap. Push. Go rogue. Helena third."

"Music to my ears." He sings, pushing for a further gap as he gleams, turns growing ragged and tires shredding, sparks flying from the back of his car as you wince. The car seems to be fine, and as soon as he's past that checkered flag, your screen is ditched for a victory-yelling session with Mike and the rest of the team. It worked. Leon just had to push past Ada and force her to care for her own safety. It was like playing the perfect cards into your hands. It was beautiful.

"We did it!" Leon yells, and you laugh into the mic.

"Get to that parking spot, Leon. We'll meet you there."

"You're paying for dinner."

"Say less."

You opt for the back half of the team, Leon yelling and grabbing Mike as he yells, cheering. Leon lets out a borderline pornographic gasp as he pops his helmet off, shake of his head from the sweat and cry on his lips as he cheers. You wonder if that feeling ever gets old. All of the excitement left you as soon as you had run up, and as Leon cheers, you find it's amusing. You won't get tired of seeing Leon and Helena place on the podium, that's for sure. You wonder what Leon's going to ask for dinner.

You want barbecue. God, Texas barbecue sounds so good right now. Leon's trainer's going to say no but oh, god. You want a rack of baby back ribs.

"What's for dinner?" Leon raises a brow as you're pushed to the front, and you tap your chin.

"I could go for some ribs."

"God, my dietician's going to kill me— say less."

You wink at him, patting his shoulder and giving him a little push as he rushes over to the podium. Helena follows after as you yell her name, cheering. You're sure the team will be able to win Constructor's Championship as long as Luis doesn't suddenly decide to get astronomically better, but you're sure Leon's practically salivating at the idea of being world champion driver. Ada's held that title for longer than ever, but Leon's got an interesting gain in terms of points this year. He'd need... to place first a least a couple more times.

"So? How'd I do?"

"Fishing for compliments, aren't ya?" You raise a brow.

"Please?"

"Oh, so you know how to beg? I'm already paying. What else do you want me to tell you? You did great? Good job not getting yourself killed? Congrats on placing first, again?"

"It's like you don't love me." He sighs.

"Leon, we're coworkers."

"That go on dinner dates?"

"Are these considered dates?" You gasp. "I thought it was just regular company dinners."

"We already do that with the team monday nights."

You shrug. "I didn't realize I was so special to you, Leon." You feign. "You love me?"

He clicks his tongue. "You wish."

"See?" You laugh, thanking the waiter as he serves you both your dinners. "I love shitty chain dinners."

"Only way to celebrate the American life." He nods at the waiter.

"Well, your fault for being American." You shrug. "That income tax must be beautiful, huh?"

"I only live here because I don't wanna end up living some tiny ass place in Monaco. Why live close to the tracks when you can live in a mansion with my money?"

"Convenience." You bite at the rib in your hand, moan slipping past your lips. "God, I love meat."

Leon cocks up a brow that can only mean trouble, and you gape, horrified.

"NO."

"You could–"

"Leon fucking Kennedy!" You full name him.

"You could have my—"

"I'm leaving and calling the cops on you." You wipe your fingers as Leon yells.

"I didn't mean it." He stifles a laugh, snirking at you.

"I hate you." You roll your eyes, going back to the food. "In front of my salad?"

"Your ribs?"

"My baby?!"

But dinner's fine. It's always more than fine. Leon gives you bedroom eyes enough times for you to just play stupid, and when he sends you back to the hotel, he frowns at you until you roll your eyes and give him a kind pat on his shoulder. You're not feeding the tabloids when Leon's already got plenty of publicity from Ada and his rivalry. Rivalry? Romance? Situation..ship? It's not your problem. You're enjoying what you're getting out of the races. It feeds your ego just as much as it does his when he wins — not that you would tell him.

Besides, the relationship was truly just transactional — If you ignore the fact that Leon's got an ego when it comes to flirting with women. He simultaneously can not handle being flirted back with or getting rejected. His face card is lethal, sure, whatever, but you don't really want to compromise your position as his race engineer with the chances of dating. You're not losing your job over some guy. You're especially not losing it over the very man you're communicating with every single race. You don't plan on that ever happening, thanks.

"Ugh. Heat." You grumble, stepping out of the airport to catch your ride. Another week, another full mess of driving you have to deal with. Mike's strategy is handed to you on Thursday like clockwork, and you read through the file while on the walk with Leon. There isn't much to say. There's never too much to say. Though, Leon tells you a little about what he's planning to do. It's not exactly safe, but as long as he can pull it off, it's fine. You stare at the track and then raise a brow, tilting your head at the turns and then at the map.

"You good?"

"Leon, I'm going to suggest something a little bit on the dirty side of driving."

"Say less."

"Feed on that fear factor. No one's completely rid of it." You hum, smiling. "Side to side, corner to corner."

"Say less." He grins. "Is that how we're going to get there?"

"Krauser has no fear factor. You're just going to have to piss him off enough."

"And Ada?"

"Ada fears nothing." You close your eyes, stopping in your tracks to think. "Just keep playing her."

"What a gamble you make each time."

"If it doesn't work, then we go back to what Mike does. You've won quite a handful of first places over the year anyway. You're only... what? You're practically neck to neck with Ada."

"How many more races?"

"You're at 10 races first place and five races second and then like a handful of thirds. You're at like 329 points. Ada joined back mid-year, and the only other person with enough points to corner you would be Krauser, but he's only around 300? There's five races left, so if you place first another two to three times, there's no way anyone could catch up to you, guaranteed."

"So first is mine?"

"Until you hit that 400 point mark, no it's not." You shake your head. "Don't get cocky."

Qualifying goes incredibly well. Too well. Leon places fifth, and you hold your breath as you check the weather.

"We changed you to wet tires, but also, true blue, 10%, 6 mph west." You read. "Leon, don't get overly excited. You're not first place. The chances you get injured or get retired is higher than usual. The weather doesn't help."

"I'll be fine."

You have a feeling he won't be, but you don't speak up. If you somehow manage to affect Leon's confidence, then you'd be responsible for it. Instead, you opt for watching Leon the whole time, holding your breath when you're not reporting the changes in weather. It's the end of hurricane season, but it doesn't mean the rain can't pick up. The anxiety eats you out, and though you remain calm on the outside, you're ready to retire the car whenever.

"Leon, is it drying?"

"No."

"How's your grip?"

"It's alright."

Leon feels the car is fine. He's raced past from third to second, and as long as he presses past Ada, he can take that title this race. He could also place second once and then top five in another race, but he needs to take first to kill everyone's chances of champion. He'd rather die than lose to Krauser again. So, he swerves, refusing to slow down at a turn, engine sparking as he's sure that he's going to need to pit soon. It's fine. The floor is drying up, and though not completely dry, it's not road that's too hard to drive on.

He'll take first place.

That's how it's supposed to go. That's how—

"I'm losing grip." He curses, staring at the upcoming turn.

"Do you want to pit?" You raise a brow.

"Ye—"

You wince at the way he spins out of control, crashing into the wall. The back panel breaks off and the engine turns red on the performance engineer's screen, and you yell for Leon. The rain helps prevent a fire, but any more with the car and it'll be problematic. You were right. It's a vital race to Leon, but he has plenty of chances as long as Krauser doesn't place podium. Though, that doesn't matter. You value the life of your driver more than a title that he wants to receive. What's the point of holding a title if the person who holds it has died? You can't take any of that with you to the afterlife.

"Leon. Out of the car. We're pulling you out the race." Your heart races, waiting for his response.

"I need this win!"

"You don't. Any two of these five races, you get first place, and you become world champion. Your life matters more. Car is out of commission. Step out of the car. You only need fifty points."

He curses on the line, profanities stringing one after the other as he hops out of the car, walking off back to the garage as he grimaces at you. You offer him an unfortunate smile, and he sighs. He leans against the wall, brows furrowed as you turn around to stare at him.

"I don't like this."

"You got cocky."

"I don't need to hear that right now!" He snaps.

"And when will you be willing to listen? Tomorrow? When you're in a good mood? Leon, you can't go ahead and aim to shred a man to pieces because you need first place at your own expense. Your emotions affect how you drive. You're there to win with a level head. You're trying to stress others out, not yourself." You sigh. "We can go over what went wrong later, but are you hurt? The medics checked you before, I know, but surely the whiplash was quite a bit. Take my seat."

"And watch the rest of the cars?" He scoffs.

"You can cheer for Helena." You pop your headphones off, holding it out to him. "You're a team, after all."

He takes them from your hand, frown on his face as he puts them on, listening in to Hunnigan and Helena's conversation. It's quiet as he expects, a lot less quippy than his conversations with you. He watches the race with the rest of the team, surprised at how well Helena's holding her position. She might even place podium.

You stand behind Leon as Helena speeds around the course, and your lips quirk up as she enters the final lap. The rain has subsided by now, and Hunnigan's calls have left her nice and safe despite her reckless driving, and she's neck to neck with Krauser now.

"I forget how good she is." Leon mumbles.

"You work in a team of mostly women. You should keep that in mind for next time." You press your hands on his shoulders, leaning into the screen as you both hold your breath.

"Helena, push."

You don't get to hear her response to Hunnigan, but her activation of DRS immediately upon entering the zone sends her past Krauser and into second place. You're sure she's thrilled to be placing so high, and you hold your breath as the gap between her and Krauser increases, her racing past the finish line earning a yell from everyone on the team. Leon grabs you, yelling as you cheer. You doubt you've ever felt such excitement over Leon placing, but Helena placing was a milestone for her.

"P2, Helena! You did it! P2!"

You drag Leon as he runs over to meet up with Helena, pushing Hunnigan to the front as you cheer.

"Why aren't you ever this excited when I win?"

"Maybe I'll cheer properly for you when you win world champion. Krauser placed first, which means he always has the chance of beating you." You wave at Helena. "Congrats!!"

"Never thought he'd come back to bite my ass." Leon grumbles. "Great job."

"Thank you." She nods. "You all good?"

"Just a little whipash." Leon sighs. "I'll be all good by next race."

You look away. Not by next race. His next handful of races are NOT going to be a pleasant experience. If he's careful, he might be able to recover by the second race, but if not, then the third or fourth. He only has four races left.

"I didn't place this time." He mumbles, groaning into his hand as you pat his back.

"You can place third four times, and you can place fourth three times and once in third. Leon, you have all the time in the world. You need to heal your whiplash first."

He grimaces.

Leon follows after you, clicking through his phone as he scrolls through twitter. It's a lot about the race results, most of them congratulating Helena, and as he reaches for his own name, you call for him.

"Let's go." You raise a brow. "Your emotions are still a mess. Don't you go reaching for Twitter first thing after a race. You wanna die?"

"They're congratulating Helena."

"Never search your name after a race." You take his phone, earning a yell from Leon as you stick your tongue out.

"What are you? Twelve?"

"I should be asking you that question." You hum. "We're off to our hotel."

"Wait, why are we—"

"Room service and then we can rewatch the race. I know you're itching to tell me what you did wrong."

"I am not." He huffs.

You raise a brow.

"Okay, I am." He rolls his eyes. "You're gonna listen?"

You get back and tell Leon what you want, stepping into the shower to wash off the grime of the day. You ask if Leon wants to grab his stuff and clean himself off, but he shakes his head at you. Until he got what he remembered out of his mind, then he would continue in whatever he was in. Though, he pulls the jacket off and ditches the shoes. You finish washing off to ask Leon if he's ordered, and he nods. He'd pay upfront with his card, which makes you raise a brow and offer to pay instead, but he insists. You don't understand why he'd go so far after literally losing a race.

Leon orders for you. He finds that it's safer for a guy to at least pretend he's staying with a woman than for the woman to be known to be staying alone, and he has you tell him what to order, bringing it to your room. You thank him for ordering, laptop pulled out as Leon points at what felt like it lost control, and you draw on the screen, taking note on what to fix at the next meeting. The car didn't do good in rainy weather, it seemed. At the very least, Vegas wouldn't have all that much rain. Then, back to the other side of the world, where the lack of rain was more than apparent. Leon would be fine in the rest of the races.

"Do you want these changes immediately? The car will be driving dry the next couple of races." You look up at the door when it's knocked on.

You thank the concierge for bringing it in, and Leon pays and tips, nodding as the guy walks off.

"He's gonna tell the media about this later." You go back to the laptop. "So? The changes?"

"Yeah, I figured." Leon sighs. "It's fine. Your laptop was out with all of the data of our old car. Stratcom's just going to say we were discussing details again."

"Or they'll pay him off." You reach for a fry, chewing on it as you hum. "You want the changes now?"

"Can I have one?"

"You paid." You hold the fries up to him.

"Thanks. No, I don't think we need to implement it right away, but for the next year, maybe. It'll be raining a lot in the earlier seasons."

"We can bring it up to the others." You tilt your head at the screen. "I'll save it, then. I think your mic could be clearer too. We can adjust that tomorrow. You should also lay down."

"You think?"

"Leon, that whiplash is going to kill you." You raise a brow. "Also, get eating. It's dinnertime anyway."

"You're awfully bold bringing a man into your hotel room, you know?"

"Thanks, if you wanna sexually assault me or something at least wait another two weeks." You shrug, biting into your food. God, mexican food after a whole day of work hits different. Though, you'd argue that the pasta you had with Leon at his nonna's was better. You don't really care of Leon in that way. You're his race engineer, he's just asking for trouble if he suddenly decides that it'd be smart for him to ask you out in any way. He'll call you sweetheart on a good day, but that does not guarantee that he will every race. You doubt he actually likes you.

Leon, on the other hand, finds it strange that you go to such lengths for him. Well, not that off. You're supposedly known by the other employees as someone who works harder than the rest, so it was unsurprising to them when you had suddenly been promoted to one of the higher-ranked engineers. Though, Leon finds it annoying that he can't seem to get through to you. What does it take for you to give him some attention? Though, not that you seem to think of him as a man anyway. It's unsafe for you to be showering and then letting him just sit in your room. Had he been any more of an asshole, he might've actually done something.

Yet, he watches you anyway. His eyes stay on your body when you tell him that you'll be knocking out for the night, telling him that he's welcome to continue with your laptop as long as he stays in the room. Unbothred. Uncaring. You seem to not take Leon seriously at all. It almost hurts his ego to be treated like this.

You fear nothing.

You can not tell when he gives you darkened eyes, climbing on top of you as you're knocked out, eyes glued to your body. You can not sense whatever danger he might present to you. Are you close to that extent? Truly? Are you two friends enough to the point that he is just allowed to do this? You must not value yourself enough. He's a man too. Do you not care?

He tilts his head at you, watching as you continue to breathe steadily, eyes closed and chest rising and falling.

He has caged you down, yet all you do is sleep.

Leon sighs. "How easy."

He climbs off of you, turning off your laptop and plugging it in for you, stepping over your clothes as he glances at you one last time. He leaves his jacket on the back of the seat, shoes slipped back on as the door clicks behind him. He could ask you in the morning. Maybe he should teach you a lesson while he's at it. You should really be vigilant around him. Had you made the mistake around anyone else, they might've jumped you already.

You wear Leon's jacket to the meeting in the morning.

It's draped over whatever you would normally wear, and Leon does a double take when you actually show up in it.

On second thought, maybe you were asking for him to do something.

You go about the meeting, telling a coworker that you found it in the team lost and found, smile on your lips as you go over what adjustments would be made for the next time. You decide on which tire material to use on the ground, and there isn't much else to go over. The United States tended to have alright weather, though, it would be colder in the morning which was when he would be racing, His uniform was alright to wear, and you raise a brow at Leon to ask if he has any questions.

"Where'd you get my jacket?"

"Alright, no flirting on company time."

You laugh at the superior, humming as the rest of the meeting runs smoothly. You hand the jacket back to Leon eventually, thanking him for it, and Leon watches as half of the room pauses to stare at you both. If you notice, you're ignoring it. Leon takes it from you with a wink, throwing it over his own shoulders, raising a brow when you shrug. He doesn't like the feeling that creeps up his back when he talks to you now. It feels strange. It feels weird.

Images of your restful face haunt him at night.

Even during qualifying, gambling city of the nation, all that keeps him up at night is you.

He settles with flirting with you instead, drinking up every single way you cringe at him, disgust audible when he's talking to you over the mic during fp3, earning raised brows from the team as you resist the need to groan into your hand.

"He's gotten a lot more vocal with you." Mike tunes in.

"I'm going to punt this man into the sky." You turn off your mic to Leon.

"Sweetheart, is the car alright?"

"Nothing from the team." You report. "You should be good to go. Keep an eye out on the weather tomorrow."

"Will you nurse me back if I get sick?"

"No, I'll just pull you from the team." You grimace, disgust written all over your face as the engineers next to you laugh — Leon parking into the garage as he pulls off the helmet, raising a brow at you. "Stop fishing for compliments, Kennedy."

He pushes himself out of the car, huffing.

"Lunch?"

"I want Chipotle."

"God, I love Chipotle," Leon mumbles, handing you his phone.

You punch in your order, telling him to just text you after, heading off to the meeting before qualifying. You're not excited. You're never excited. You sit in the room and talk to everyone, and once you leave the room, the stress will be significantly less. You'll talk to everyone and figure out the general plan, tell them what you plan on having Leon do alongside Mike and get approval. Once it's approved, you tell them that it's subject to change in order to adapt to the plan, and Mike hands you another heavy file of information about Ada's recent races.

"We're just going to ignore Krauser?"

"Leon's raced against that man plenty." Mike sighs, opening the door. "Oh, speak of the devil."

"Chipotle's here." He smiles, holding up your order as your eye twitches. In front of management is insane.

"You just really wanted to show management how much I've been abusing you, huh?" You raise a brow. "Come on. Let's find an area to cool down before quali."

"Don't need to tell me twice." He leads you around, your bowl steaming hot on top of the folder from Mike. You don't want to hear what the higher-ups have to say. If you do not see, then you do not know. Well, not that it matters. Leon has a strange reputation, and it's as though he has a dating history since starting F1. It's like they wiped him clean to start over. Oh, well, save for whatever he and Ada has going on.

"Hey." Leon grins.

Ada Wong sits on the couch across from you, and your jaw drops

"Oh my god." You fumble with your lunch, jaw-dropping. "THE Ada Wong?"

"Oh! Leon's wildcard!" She hums. "Come on! Let's eat."

You stare at Leon, and he shrugs.

"She wanted to join."

"Huge fan, wow." You mumble, putting the folder down as you open your lunch. "What brings you here? Or are you two just having lunch? Am I intruding?"

Ada laughs. "Don't worry about it. I bumped into him before he got to order. He owes me one anyway."

You give Leon a look that can only mean something along the lines of "did I walk in on you both" to which Leon responds with a shake of his head. You go back to your food, humming as you watch the television for time. Ada races before Leon this time, and honestly, you're kind of too thrilled to be having Chipotle to care. American food things. You can take the man out of the eagle screech but not the eagle screech out the man... or however it goes. What's a little... American spirit in the United States? You like the calm life you get to enjoy during the breaks where all you do is go on zoom meetings with everyone and talk about the car. What can you say? Laziness isn't a passion, it's a lifestyle. Though, you'd argue that being an engineer in F1 is a complete contradiction to the statement.

You finish as Ada looks at you, lips quirked upward amusingly as you raise a brow.

"You're doing great."

"God, I must be hallucinating." You grab Leon's thigh, fanning your face.

"You're my engineer and you're crying over a compliment from her?"

"She's my number one. My ult. My oshi, if you will. Dare I say it, my number one."

Leon raises a brow at all of those words, but Ada laughs, hand held over her mouth as she laughs into her palm, corners of her eyes crinkling from your boldness. She thanks you with a nod and a smile, telling you that she'll dedicate her win tomorrow to you.

"Oh, well, I never promised that win in your hands." You wink, lips quirked up as Ada blinks at your boldness.

"You think you can win again?"

"You called me a wildcard, Miss Ada." You smile. "You struggle with them yourself. We all do."

"Well, you're right on that." She smiles. "But you won't be able to predict me either, hm?"

"Hard to say." You wink. "A jack of all trades is a master of none, but oftentimes better than a master of one. Though, what use are cards in a game of firearms?" You grin. "Well, not that it matters. You can't win championship even if you win the next four. You know? You joined a little late."

"I know. But I can certainly push Krauser to the top. Anything to stop Stratcom from winning both titles."

"Well, apologies, but bringing a knife to a gunfight is a little outdated." You grin. 

Ada laughs, pushing the door open. "See you both at quali."

"If I play dangerous, will you let me?" Leon looks up at you from the couch through his lashes.

"As long as you don't die or get retired, do as you wish?"

"Even if we get yelled at?"

"What's Stratcom without a little violence?"

Leon places third in q3.

It's not nearly as fast as he would've liked it to be, but it's fast enough, and when he's back after q3, he's tilting his head at you with those big-ass puppy eyes, vying for attention. You know he wants a compliment, but you raise a brow at him as he huffs. He knows you won't give him one unless he does so well that it's beyond what you expect from him.

"I'm not complimenting you, Kennedy."

"Dammit." He huffs. "If I win tomorrow, will you?"

"No." You hum. "Bring back that championship and then we can talk."

Leon sighs. "Can I have a kiss if I do?"

You raise a brow. "I thought it was I receive something?"

"A kiss." He shrugs.

"You wish." You roll your eyes. "I'll think about it if you win driver’s cup, and our team wins the constructor's championship."

"Oh, say less." He grins.

You wish you could say you despise Leon. You don't — truly. You find it entertaining to push his buttons the same way he pushes yours. You find it amusing when he tilts his head and begs for your attention. Twisted? Maybe. Entertaining? Very. Leon's not one to beg for attention. He's always the center of attention, so for him to want your attention gives you quite a glimpse into what kind of a person he is. Maybe you just bruise his ego. Though, not that you can feed it. If you feed it anymore, his head's gonna get so big that he floats away. It makes you laugh — the idea of Leon floating away with a big-ass head.

You set up for the screen after the meeting in the morning. Leon's allowed to go insane, and Mike has a plan in case Leon wants to try something new. Though, you're sure that won't be the case. You want Leon to try chasing the ever-living fuck out of someone. You want Leon to go insane, or whatever he liked calling it. Ada called you a wildcard, but truly, you could not come up with it on your own. Leon's the one who just makes stuff up on the fly.

Though, you want to have Leon pull off better skill.

So, when the first ten laps go by and Leon hasn't moved up, you huff.

"Cut through Krauser to break into second."

"Oh? Say less."

"Don't do anything too reck—"

You watch as Leon slides right through Krauser and the wall in one of the sharpest turns on the track, wincing as Leon doesn't bother braking, forcing Krauser behind him as he laughs into the mic. You sigh considering it was your fault, but you're glad he's at least broken through. Krauser may try and chase Leon down in the corners, but as long as he gets enough gain, it should be... feasible. Though, when the performance engineer mics in, you groan.

"Leon. Pit. Box, box. Puncture in back right tire."

"Dammit." He huffs. "Time loss estimate?"

"Five seconds behind Helena."

Leon pits and gets his tire changed, speeding off back into the track in eighth, huffing and pouting as he has to overtake so many people again.

"Overtake opening."

"Copy." Leon slides past two cars and gains on the inside. "Tell Helena to guard."

"Roger."

Leon flies past Helena, telling you to thank Hunnigan, and he tails behind Krauser again. He huffs, knowing that Krauser would probably just force him into the wall this time rather than brake, but you have other plans.

"Do the same thing."

"He's not going to brake."

"He will." You pause. "Think about it."

"He's got a wife and kids to go home to." Leon scoffs. "You're insane."

"Hey, you said it." You watch as he forces past Krauser just barely again, sparks flying from the back of his car as he pushes past, gaining distance and blocking him from any overtakes, laugh registering through his mic as you raise a brow.

"Don't get cocky now, Kennedy."

"Wouldn't dream of it with you on the line, sweetheart."

Halfway in, Leon finally gains on Ada, tailing right behind her as she closes in to stop him from passing, and Leon huffs. You don't speak to him, and none of the engineers call for a pit. You leave him alone to make the call. Ada can predict what both you and Mike call, but you're sure she isn't capable of predicting just what kind of a bullshit move Leon would be able to pull.

"Open DRS."

"Don't need to tell me twice."

Leon's a nightmare. You think Leon's a nightmare. He forces past her where he should have braked, forcing her into the same position as Krauser, wheels touching hers as you hold your breath for a pit, surprised when there's a lack of one.

"Are you open to pitting another time?"

"No." Leon hisses, blocking Ada on a corner, gaining the inside.

"Then take care of your tires."

"Copy."

You find that Leon doesn't really take any racer seriously outside of Ada. Maybe his thought process actually spins when he's defending first, his radio going quiet from all the banter that you had prior to this. He'll have his fill of it later when you have to pay for dinner, but it's not right now. Leon's too straightforward at this point of the race to even think what he's saying to you. Blessing or curse? Curse for you, blessing for his media team.

"Good gain. Ada two seconds behind."

"Praise me."

You laugh, humming as Leon repeats his request.

"Praise me."

"You're doing great, Leon. Push for five seconds." You hum. "I'll praise you more if you win."

"Say less."

You watch as he pushes even harder, muting yourself as you laugh at the way he goes quiet for the next five laps.

"Ten til completion."

"Roger that. Helena?"

"P3."

"Can she chase Ada for me?"

"Will request."

You mic over to Hunnigan to request Helena's aid in keeping Ada at bay, and she tells you she'll try. It's no guarantee considering how skilled Ada is, but it's worth the shot, definitely. Lots of factors play into how a race goes, but Ada hasn't pitted even once, and you assume it's because she wants to hold out against Leon for as long as possible. Though, she's already behind him. Maybe she's forcing him to wear his tires down.

"Leon, Ada upcoming pit. Push."

"What the hell does it look like I'm doing?"

"You can do better."

"We better be chowing down on cheesecake factory after this."

"You want cheesecake factory?"

"Last of chain foods before two races in the two Eurasia." Leon huffs. "You're paying if I place first."

"What happened to chivalry?"

"Dead if I win this race."

"You know what? I hope you place second just so I don't need to pay—"

"Just tell me to kill myself at this point."

"Ada return. Gain 6.7 seconds. Final three laps." You report.

"Copy. Can I do doughnuts if I win?"

"Not for another two races." You click your tongue. "I'll take us for milkshakes tomorrow after the meeting if you place first."

"The good place?"

"Where else?"

"I don't know." Leon goes quiet, presumably to focus on the turns. "Lap count?"

"Last one." You hum. "Congrats on fastest lap."

"Maybe you're my lucky charm. You should kiss me next time to see if it works better."

"I'm going to drop kick you across the track if you say that to me one more time." You grimace.

"Come on. You gotta congratulate me if I win first." Leon laughs, speeding down the straight as the checkered flag is waved for him.

"P1. Congrats." You hum. "Good job."

"Call me good boy."

"Over the work radio? I think not." You laugh, disconnecting as you grab the other engineers to cheer.

When everyone rushes to the front, you stay in the back, winking at Leon as his eyes meet yours. He cocks up an eyebrow and you sigh, shaking your head as your mouth opens.

'Good boy'

If Leon had a tail, it'd be wagging by now from the look on his face.

He sticks his tongue out at you in response, biting it to show his canines as he goes bouncing off in the back. It makes you shake your head, but he rushes over to Ada for a hug, Helena giving him a fistbump as Leon gives her thanks. It's nice to be cherished. Though, you're surprised when Chris gives Leon a handshake. Huh. You didn't realize he was chill like that— or however the saying goes. You find it amusing. Leon locks eyes with you after talking to Chris, running through the cars to point at you. Oh, maybe it's because they're both from Raccoon.

You tilt your head as you're pushed to the front, and Leon tilts his head at you. You feel like it should be Leon Sly Kennedy and not Scott. What an awful person he is.

"Alright, alright," You reach up for his hair, fighting back the grimace that comes with all of the sweat, humming. "Good boy."

"That's what I like to hear." He grins, leaning into your palm.

"What are you? A dog?" You pull your hand from his hair, Leon turning to head over to the podium.

"Your dog, maybe?"

Aaaand he's off with a wink.

You shudder at the thought, grimacing as Leon sings his way to the podium. He accepts the trophy with a thank you and then pops the champagne, and you duck when he aims for you, causing it to land square in Mike's face. You manage a "sorry" before Mike wipes it off his face, gawking at Leon as he purses his lips.

"Wasn't aiming for you! Sorry, Mike." He smiles.

"I want dinner too!"

"We can take the team."

"Isn't he paying?"

"I am. I can decide that."

"Nah, rather not have to third and fourth wheel." The performance engineer rolls his eyes.

"You're not gonna be my saving grace?"

"He'd kill us both."

You groan, getting up when you realize Leon's finished spraying his bottle. He pours a glass for himself, downing it as you tilt your head and watch him. He pours another glass, hopping down the podium as he holds it out for you.

"Oh? For me?"

"If not you then who?"

"The rest of your team?" You raise a brow, pressing it to your lips as you drink.

Leon bubbles over with excitement under his skin at the indirect kiss. He has one last swig left in the bottle.

That way, he can say he kissed you — even if it was indirectly.

He takes the glass from you as he takes it pouring the last of the bottle into the glass as he licks at the place where your lip balm was. Maintaining eye contact with you the whole time, he watches for even a glimpse of embarrassment on your face.

You raise a brow, but the flush on your skin is his confirmation.

Then, he presses his lips to exactly where yours were, throwing his head back to down the last of it. The alcohol slides down the corners of his mouth and his throat as his adam's apple bobs, liquid sliding down. Once he's sure the glass is empty, only then does he relax himself and sigh, smirking at you as you raise a brow. Sexual awakening? Not exactly. Something that you'd get embarrassed over watching on television? Yeah.

It makes you uncomfortably warm at the neck, pulling at your collar as Leon gives you bedroom eyes, and that elicits a look of concern and grimace from you.

Old habits die hard.

You wave goodbye to him as he heads off to the interview and debrief, laugh on your lips as you retire with everyone else.

Helena makes one last stop before going to her own interview, grabbing your shoulder with a hand as you raise a brow.

"Twenty eight likes you. A lot."

"Too bad I can't date him."

She raises a brow in disbelief and shrugs.

"Good luck at the interview."

"Thanks. Have fun at dinner later."

"Does he debrief with you?"

"Maybe? Maybe not." She winks. "Catch you next race!"

You wave, raising a brow and jumping in your skin as Mike grabs your shoulder.

"He's down so bad."

"Thanks. I prefer to ignore it."

His laugh is more than enough to make you laugh too.

You get Cheesecake Factory with Leon. It's a little unceremonious,  but as the two of absolutely go to town on your own meals, it does not matter. Whatever banter and flirting was going on on the track is ignored. This is not your problem. Your problem at the moment is to down an unreal amount of calories in the span of ten minutes, all presented to you on a platter from Cheesecake Factory. That's what you give a fuck about at the moment.

You wonder if Leon's gained any weight at all after eating... barely eating his diet. You're sure his dietician would grill the two of you to shreds for this, but you don't care. You're free. Leon's problem is his problem. You don't care if this one meal is singlehandedly restoring your weight loss over the week from exhaustion. This is your victory meal as much as it is Leon's.

"If I win next time will you go out with me?"

You blink at Leon, wiping your mouth.

"I did not just hear that come out of your mouth."

"You did."

"You woke up and decided to be twenty times more insufferable, huh?" You raise a brow. "No. I'm not complying. It's supposed to be me getting a reward."

"Is dating me not enough of a reward?"

"Not even close." You wipe at your mouth. "Isn't your dietician going to kill you for this meal?"

"I just have to burn it off." He shrugs. "Shall we take a stroll by the vegas strip?"

"Well, if you insist." You reach for your card, Leon's hand placed over yours as he takes his own out. "Leon. You placed first."

"I insist." He hums. "Now you owe me."

"Better not be more than a meal." You smile. "Milkshakes? No. Your caloric—"

"Nuh-uh. All those calories from the alcohol at the afterparty is going to turn into my milkshake."

"You don't even drink—" You pause. "I lied. I've seen that shots shots shots video circulating around of you."

"Yeah." He grins. "Yet, here I am. I'm here having dinner with you instead."

"You act as though you didn't have a choice."

"You're the one acting that way! Come on, let's go find the milkshake place."

"Don't you ever worry about paparazzi?"

"Fans are used to it by now. Haven't you seen them on Twitter betting on where we'll be eating next?" He offers you his hand, to which you raise a brow.

"Take my hand."

"Nuh uh."

"Fuck you mean nuh uh???"

You roll your eyes, getting up on your own as Leon pouts at you.

"Please?"

"I'll pay for milkshakes. Stop pouting."

"I'm gonna pout the whole way until you take my hand."

You raise a brow, following after him as he pouts at you the whole way, only returning to normal when some fans stop to ask for his signature. He makes light chat with them and you raise a brow, surprised when they hop over to your next, pen held out to you as you blink.

"You sure?"

"Yes. He's not a Stratcom racer without you." She tilts her head. "You're also like. Iconic."

You laugh, popping the cap of the pen as you ask her where you should sign, the other girl butting in to tell you to sign by the heart. You raise a brow but comply, the two girls squealing as you cap the pen again. They thank you, gushing as they as for a photo with you. You're surprised you've gained such a name just by being Leon's race engineer alone. You don't... dislike it.

"Are you two dating?!"

"No."

"Wish we were." Leon huffs.

"He's joking."

"I'm not."

"He is." You insist.

"You two have very fun conversations on the radio." One of the girls smile. "I like hearing you put him in his place."

You laugh, hunched over as Leon gawks, offended.

"I thought you were my fans?"

"Yeah, but I like your race engineer better." She whistles, looking to the side. "She's... hotter."

You laugh even harder, crouching on the ground as Leon holds a hand to his heart dramatically.

"Fake."

You get back up, patting Leon's back as you shake your head.

"Sorry to steal your spotlight, Kennedy." You hum. "Thank you, though."

"Honored! Are you both grabbing food?"

"Post-victory dinner just finished."

"And then?"

"We're getting a sweet treat." You grin.

"Sharing a milkshake?"

"No, I don't—"

"Good idea." Leon butts in, grabbing your wrist as he smiles. "We'll get going, though. Glad you enjoyed the race."

"Have fun!"

You stumble after Leon with a brow raised, unsurprised when he wraps his hand around yours, giving you a victorious grin as you scoff.

"This was your plan?"

"You're not going to defeat me in terms of grip strength."

You resist the urge to make a joke about grip, shaking the whole time your lips are pursed, coming off a lot as a spongebob meme, breaking into a fit of laughter eventually when you fail to resist.

"What?"

"You know what could defeat you in terms of grip strength?"

"Mind showing me? I'm a hands-on learner."

"This. This." You'd usually be too concerned to give a response, but the need to make the joke is too strong. You cut yourself with your own laughter, though, following after Leon as he shakes his head.

He rolls his eyes. "In public is insane."

"YOU'RE THE ONE WHO LITERALLY JUST SAID—"

"We're here." He looks up at the place, pushing the doors open as you raise a brow in suspicion.

"Wow, you're like a local." You laugh, following after him as he orders, holding your phone to the side as you fight him to pay for the milkshakes, his strength too much for you as you eventually give up and let him pay for your treat. You groan the whole time, his laugh only even more spiteful as you take your milkshake with a pout on your kips, biting on the straw as he tilts his head at you.

"Come on."

You huff. "I was supposed to pay."

"You can pay when you earn as much as I do."

"You know what? I should be relishing in the fact that I haven't spent a dime so far." You roll your eyes. "Thank you for sparing my bank account."

"Of course."

"When do you fly?"

"Wednesday."

"Are you walking?" You raise a brow, tongue red from the milkshake.

"I'll see you there." He hums, sticking his tongue out. "We should make a pink milkshake."

You grimace, smacking him on the arm as he pouts.

"Meanie."

"whore."

You fly out Tuesday after the debrief with Leon, flight awful for you despite upgrading to business class, exhaustion from weeks of flying back and forth finally building up on your body. You're close. You have, what? two more weeks? The second to last race was this week, and you could rest easy if Leon could just get the title of champion after placing first. Though, arguably as long as he gets those 26 points before the end of the season, he could rest safe. Krauser still had the chance of winning if he placed first in literally any of these competitions. It wasn't a good thing on Leon's end, but you were just as stressed as he was.

You're going to explode.

Yet, you walk the lap around the track, sighing as Leon catches the look on your face.

"Sad?"

"God, I hope nothing goes wrong with your car."

"Why? You think it'll happen?"

"Aim to get fourth."

"We're not aiming for podium?"

"That bad feeling in my stomach says to not risk anything today. We're following Mike."

Leon frowns at you, clicking his tongue. "Why?"

"The car doesn't feel safe."

"You're insane."

"I'm not. Leon."

"And if I don't listen?"

"Then crash."

Leon places first in q3, and you hold your breath as he takes a gain on the rest of the cars in first place, defending for life against Ada. You watch the whole time as he stays in first place, only contacting him when he needs to pit for a change of tires, holding your breath as neither of you seem to speak over the radio. You read wind speed and what else he can do, but for the most part he barely responds. You can only hope he's not going through some sort of late teenage rebellion stage of his life. You watch and convey words from the rest of the engineers, trusting that Leon will at least know how to handle certain situations. You might be babying him quite hard, but it's honestly—

"Puncture in tyre. Pit. Pit. Box, box." You read.

"Which tire."

"Front right."

"Copy."

You watch as the tire explodes on him and his car, causing it to spin as Leon crashes into the wall. It causes you to wince, checking to see if they deploy a safety car or pull a red. Though, it makes you tired. Leon just didn't like listening. He picked up the puncture because he had told you he thought he could push further with the tyres. You grimace at the screen and mentally prepare yourself for Leon's influx of emotions.

The groan that Leon lets out causes you to pull the headphones out from sheer vibration.

"Get over here in the garage."

"This is your fault."

"This is NOT my fault. I told you to be careful this race." You huff. "Come on."

"I'm not watching Helena race."

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever, white boy."

Leon groans a second time at the nickname.

He stands behind you with a frown on his face the whole time as you watch the race. Helena's doing okay. You don't think she's too familiar with the track, and the amount of turns on the track are a little tricky to handle. She slows and gets overtaken often at the tracks. You can't say much considering that lots of people struggle with the track, but you find it impressive that she's managed to guard her position as fifth, steady with her turns as she grows used to the track by the middle. You wonder if she'll place podium.

Well, not that you'd be disappointed. You like placing podium, but the team's been on there an unreal amount since Leon and Helena joined. Lowering their expectation every now and then couldn't hurt. Well, at least not like it hurts veterans to get their asses kicked and realize their driving is getting worse. You wonder if that's why Leon's so bitter. At the very least, he placed 10th considering how many other cars just casually got pulled off. He did alright. All that needs to happen is Krauser not winning first — which sounds a little insane considering that he's first at the moment.

Leon took one first place, but somehow that title wasn't awarded to him. Well, it seemed that you'd be working your ass off for another week. God forbid you have a day off before the end of the season. You truly can not win. You watch as Helena tries to climb once as she has enough space, but it still isn't enough. You're not even disappointed anymore. You honestly just want to go home. You're so tired, it's unreal. The flight did not give you enough rest time, and so many things have been keeping you awake. So many? Sorry.

Images of Leon squeezing your hand while you walked down the Vegas strip have been haunting you at night.

You are not immune to the white boy agenda.

So, you close your eyes as you decide to doze off in the garage.

You're off duty now. You're free.

Leon catches your head before you fall over completely, gloved hand gentle on your skin as you lean on him, eyes closed and breathing stable as you catch a break. He feels bad for blaming you. You truly only mean the best for him, but it wasn't as if you were doing it right. Leon huffs as he holds your head in place, watching as Helena climbs to fourth in the last twenty laps. He raises a brow, impressed at her skill, and then he holds his breath as she touches wheels with Krauser. He knows how bad it is. He wonders if you ever get this anxious and invested in a race. Maybe that was why you never reacted when he won first place. You were still adjusting... or whatnot.

You seem awfully comfortable for someone who's falling asleep while literally sitting up.

The end of the race comes too fast, and Helena places fourth. Krauser places first again, and Leon clicks his tongue. It annoys him. He needs to place first next race. Instead of walking out with everyone to watch, Leon takes the seat next to you, letting you rest your head on his shoulder for longer, glaring at Hunnigan when she gives the two of you a raised brow. He's not dealing with that. He might as well cherish the fact that you aren't biting back at him for once. Well, not that he's undeserving of all the shit you throw at him for being on the track.

You wake at one point, Leon knocked out with his head on top of yours. You blink at the pit crew cleaning up, groaning as every muscle in your body is begging for you to free it from whatever position you're currently in. You hold Leon's head in place, standing up to stretch, groaning as you do. You hear your back crack.

Leon stirs, opening his eyes and grumbling.

"I feel like shit."

"That makes two of us." You groan, stretching your arms above your head as you sigh. "I need to go back to the hotel room."

"No strategy debrief?"

"I'm too tired for that. Maybe over dessert?"

"Let's do room service again." Leon sighs. "My room this time."

You raise a brow. "Can I shower first?"

"Shower at mine."

"Okay. Damn. Whore."

"Bring your clothes. I'm not— You know what? If you're up for it."

"NO."

You end up cleaning yourself up first, towel around your neck as you step out and get changed into pajamas, knocking on Leon's room unceremoniously with your laptop and everything you might need to debrief. You wonder what it's like to be in a suite in a hotel, but you don't care. Quite frankly, you're not really in the mood to be debriefing, but anything to have your wallet not break over a room service meal. You don't even care if it's a salad at this point. Leon seems to know your general taste by now. Insane on his end, but who are you to complain?

"Come on."

"It was just a tire puncture this time."

"Yes, but something's gone wrong with my car twice in the last 3 races." He reasons. "Something needs to be changed."

"Do you want the edits you requested last time immediately?"

"That would be nice." He hums. "Also, new things to fix."

You yawn, watching as Leon draws arrows at what was flashing wrong, and you realize pretty quickly that the performance engineer was not doing what he was supposed to and keeping an eye out on everything. It makes you almost annoyed, but you don't tell Leon, opting to text the head engineer instead. You don't care if you have to find someone new. You need someone to actually watch what the hell was going on the track. Waiting until things were in the red to fix it wasn't smart. Leon's car had to be fixed as soon as anything on the car hit yellow. It was incredible how bad Leon was at car management.

"We're going to change performance engineers for your next race." You glance at the response from the head engineer.

"Really?"

"The puncture had been there for a while. It's not just an average blunder to not notice that there's something in the tire."

"Ah, right. You were that once."

"Yeah." You stab into a piece of the steak already cut, chewing as you raise a brow. "It might be someone inexperienced, but as long as they can consistently report what the numbers are, I'll live. Correction. You'll live."

"And if I crash my car?"

"Then Helena's going to need to force Krauser back until he can't score any more points than you. What are you? 379 right now?"

"379."

"Krauser's at 362. He can't place any higher than second. He's been doing well lately, so it's not out of the question for him to place podium. He can't place podium. Okay? You have to place higher than him."

"If he wins first... that just means I have to score over 390."

"Yes."

"So not first?"

"Just aim for first. Don't you want to go out with a bang?" You raise a brow.

"If I do, can I kiss you?"

"You have to place first."

"I'm taking that as a yes, then."

"I'm not saying no."

Leon flies in with you on Wednesday, involved the whole time during the debrief to discuss what can be changed and improved, deciding which tires to start off with on Thursday, and personally running around in the car during the free practices. The car's adjustments are made on the spot, and Leon grows comfortable with the car and the steering wheel before the race, slow laps around the field to get a feel, faster laps around the circuit to prepare for qualifying. He seldom talks to you, only on the radio when he drives, asking questions on how the car was doing.

He's a lot more vocal to check for the car now that it's someone completely new on the team.

You report everything he asks when he practices, checking that he's comfortable with where he's at, comfortable with knowing what his car is like. You find that his comfort probably matters a lot more than anything else at the moment. All you need to guarantee is that he gets the nine points. Though, you're aiming for him to get first place for once. You'll be cheering this race if he places first in more ways than one.

Leon races through qualifying with a passion you didn't know he could actually show, and you start to wonder if he's really just... locked in.

He places second for q3, and you take a look at the circuit, debriefing with him when he's back, nodding at him in approval when he beams at you. You might as well let yourself start getting more honest.

You think you like Leon. Well, not that you can tell. You think you like him, though. Maybe not the same way he does you, but you definitely like him.

"Still with me for that win, right?"

"Yeah, but you better win." You hum.

"You'll help me?"

"What can I do but?"

Leon rests in position, eyes on the road as the light flashes from red to green, gas pressed and speed active as he races down the start, overtaking Ada with a push, forcing a turn on the inside as he starts playing defense. The race to first was always easier than the keeping of first. You aren't sure if Leon will keep it steady throughout the entire time, but his plan in the hotel had been simple. He didn't need to place first, he just needed to chase both Ada and Krauser down until either of them wore their tires to shreds. It was a pretty simple plan on his end considering he was good at ruining both his car and others'.

"Lap?"

"35 left." You read. "How's the car? Performance engineer reports nothing sensors showing."

"It's alright." He turns, checking his rearview mirrors as he clicks his tongue. "Krauser chasing."

"Let him pass."

"What?"

"Tear that car to shreds."

"That's illegal."

"Not if he does it himself."

Leon clicks his tongue, scoffing.

"Blaming you if I get flagged."

"Blame me all you want."

Leon falls back and stages an accidental overpass, eyes focusing on the way Krauser passes him with Ada on his tail, Leon's lips curling upwards. Ada will tear Krauser to shreds for him. Ada may not play it as risky as he does, but he doesn't need Ada to be behind him, he needs Krauser torn to shreds. It had been that exact reason that he had played the cards of the public. The championship can only really be either of them. Ada's break had been the perfect opportunity for him, and he watches as Ada chases Krauser down.

You knew, maybe. You probably knew as soon as you realized he had lunch with Ada.

"Ada shredding Krauser. Touched wheels."

"Laps left?"

"30."

"She'll tear him down enough for me to overtake."

"You sure?"

"She promised." Leon hums, turning off his radio.

Ada does as promised, forcing Krauser to expend his tires and lose grip, forced into another pit stop as Leon takes the chance to chase after Ada. He understands she won't let him pass, but all that mattered was Krauser placing behind him. He needed to end up on that podium, and his pride wouldn't allow him anything other than the position of first. He chases after Ada on the corners as Krauser returns, pushing as he huffs when she cuts him off.

"How are the tires?"

"Losing grip."

"Pit now?" You pause. "Twenty seconds between you and Helena."

"Confirm."

"Confirmed pit. Box, box. We're ready when you are."

Leon glances to the side, sharp turn into the pit, wheels changed to soft ones as he races back out.

"Gap."

"Two seconds behind Helena. Five seconds in front of Chris."

"Can you have her let me pass?"

"Will ask. Go ahead and force past her anyway."

"Copy."

Leon speeds past Helena, making a mental note to thank her later, chasing after Krauser as he follows closely behind Ada, leaving enough space for Krauser and his brashness.

"Can I make him crash?"

"FIA can hear you."

"I'm not actually gonna do it."

"Twenty laps left."

"Cutting it is."

Leon wonders if Krauser really wants to deal with the same overtake three times, but he doesn't really care. If he loses, then so be it. He values his life a little less than Krauser. So, it's unsurprising when he goes for violent overtakes, forcing himself on the inside and forcing Krauser to brake, laugh on his lips as he zips past him. You keep an eye on everything else on the track, telling Leon to push.

"Fifteen laps. Get a grip, Leon." Your lips quirk up. "Gotta push."

"Thanks, tire grip is fine." He barks out a laugh, trying to cut through Ada on another turn as she stops him. "See you in ten laps."

"Catch you then."

Leon maneuvers around Ada's car in a series of close calls, grumbling to himself as he decides that he's just not going to brake the next time she pushes him into the wall. Front wing be dammed, he was so close to the finish line it didn't matter as much anymore. Yes, balance would be toppled, but it didn't matter if he could get both off at the same time. Ada has a survival instinct, and Leon would just force himself to overwrite that survival instinct. It won't matter to him as much if he loses something on the car.

"I'm gonna do a stupid."

"Oh, god."

Leon forces himself past Ada on a corner, refusing to brake and touching wheels with Ada, forcing her to the side as he speeds up, finally overtaking her and taking first. He doesn't call in in his final laps, far too invested in keeping first, stopping Ada from getting too close, grumbling though the circuit.

"Lap?"

"Final. Krauser in third. Keep your pace, Leon. You're almost there."

"God, I can't wait for my stupid prize."

Leon's final lap has minimal resistance, Ada seemingly falling a little more behind to keep Krauser out of the way, Leon flying past the checkered flag as he yells, hand thrown up as he cheers.

"DOUGHNUTS."

"Yes, Leon. We discussed this—"

You watch as Leon spins around the track, tearing the car to shreds in the process, wasting no material as he yells out, cheering and spinning on the track to do doughnuts.

"Good job, Leon."

"Now get over here so I can get my reward."

You ditch the headphones, following him as he goes back on the track to drive to his position, the rest of the team racing over to grab him, and Leon throws off his helmet, shoving it into someone's arms as he reaches for you, hands flying to the sides of your face as you yell, his lips pressed to yours as he melts into you, hand moving to the back of your head to deepen the kiss, dipping you as much as he can without your knees giving out on you. He steals every breath you can take, gloves a little nasty on your face as you throw your arms around his neck. Someone next to you yells and you think people pull out their phones, but you couldn't care less.

You've grown far too used to Leon's way of affection anyway.

You pull away first, wiping your lips from the sweat on his face, and he stares at you, beaming as you brace yourself for the million-dollar question.

"Be my girlfriend."

"Not with that attitude." You raise a brow. "Nuh uh."

Leon blinks at you, confusion all over his face as you raise a brow.

"What."

"Not with that attitude."

"Please? Go out with me?"

You roll your eyes. "What happened to chivalry?"

"Sorry, excuse me for a second." Leon lifts you over the fencing, making you yell as he carries you over to the stage.

"WHAT THE FUCK."

Leon takes his trophy as you watch from below the stage, handed a bottle of rose water as you shake it to pop it at him. The team won the constructors championship, so you think you get a little treat. You spray it in Leon's face as he sprays his at you, yelling as you close your eyes, pouring out the last bit to clink glasses with Leon. You don't care. You don't care anymore. The team just won world championship, you think there are other things that you care about right now.

Leon loops his arm around yours before you can drink, clinking glasses with you one last time before pressing his drink to his lips. You comply, lips pressed to the glass as you down the last bit, swallowing and pausing to think. This feels an awful lot like a wedding ceremony. You don't think too much about it, unlinking your arm with his to put the glass down, surprise on your face when he dives in for another kiss on the podium, lips pressed to yours as all you can taste in champagne, tongue pressed to yours with wet hair framing his face, stickiness from the alcohol on his face when you reach for his cheek, thumb brushing at it as he dips you for real this time, swallowing you whole on stage as squirm to push him off of you. You're sticky from the drink too, rose definitely on his tongue when he kisses you. You finally break free, head thrown back as he rests his head in the crook of your neck with a blissful sigh.

"God, that was so worth it."

"Kennedy, you're crazy."

"Only for you."

You fight back the grimace, opting for smacking him instead.

"We're not going for dinner first today. We're showering."

"Together?"

"No, you freak."

Leon sighs, burying his head in your chest instead.

"As long as we can get dinner after."

"I want your Nonna's pasta."

"Buying tickets right now."

"YOU HAVE AN INTERVIEW."

Leon presses a kiss to your cheek, staring at you through his lashes as he huffs. "Tomorrow, then. We can get room service for tonight."

"Only if—"

"I'll pay."

"Deal."

You let Leon wrap an arm around your waist as he cheers some more, your eye roll caught on camera for the media to see, but it doesn't really matter. Leon squeezes his cheek to yours, arm snug around your waist as he sticks his tongue out for the cameras, trophy held up for the world to see. You bet he’d wear your name around his neck if you asked him. Actually, you wonder how the hell he even got the title of playboy or flirt. Whatever Chad energy this man had when he started racing was NOT visible when he started working with you. This man is a walking loser stuck in a hot man’s body. Your loser, though.

Thank god you went to grab coffee first race of the season.

[bumblebeesfromvenus]

Won't go Home without You 🫂

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

RER2!Leon S. Kennedy x reader

♤

This.... this is very sad. I think. Maybe??

《Content》: Canon typical violence, Ex-boyfriend!Leon, neutral ending?? Idk it's tragic, but I don't know if I, personally, would classify it as a sad ending.

The order is here -> 🎂

Even after he'd broken your heart, you go after your ex-lover and unknowingly stumble right into your shared demise.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

"Shit, shit, shit!" You cursed frantically, running through the dark and messy halls of the Raccoon City Police Department, adrenaline pumping in your veins.

The fear that struck you right in the middle of your chest was enough to make your legs move like they've never moved before.

You thought the horrors outside in the streets were straight from a nightmare, but no one talks about how terrifying hordes of undead are when you're trapped with them with no way out.

The puddles of blood stemming from slaughtered police officers and other personnel almost made you slip more than once on the smooth floors. You had to push down the urge to empty the contents of your stomach so you wouldn't end up like the poor victims that lined the halls.

Rattling the handle of every door you came across you almost cried in relief when one finally opened.

You could hear the moans and groans of the moving dead as you barricaded yourself in the tiny office.

You locked the door, pulled down the blinds and pushed the heavy desk in front of it. There was a second door, one that would connect the room you were currently in to the one next to it.

Considering the other office's door was locked, you only used a sturdy chair to hopefully keep any unwanted visitors out.

With a heaving chest and the adrenaline buzzing in your blood you moved to the furthest corner and slowly sunk down the wall.

You managed to get in a couple of breaths, feeling how your lungs and ribcage expanded before the reality of it all clicked in your brain and the tears started flowing down your cheeks.

You wanted to wail and scream, maybe even hurl your guts out at how nauseating this whole situation was, but you could only manage quiet and pathetic whimpers with your hand firmly pressed against your mouth.

And to think you only got yourself into this whole mess because you were cursed with a heart too big for your body and you still cared about him. He was the entire reason you even stepped foot into this hellhole of a city.

At the thought of him you couldn't quite decipher what you wanted to feel first; did you want to scream at him and curse him to the high heavens for doing this to you or was the last thing you wanted from him to hold you, embrace you and never let go when you'd inevitably die tonight, as pathetic as it sounded.

You didn't know what you'd weep over first, your doom or the shattered pieces of your heart contained within your ribcage that cut into your insides.

Leon had broken your heart, maybe a week ago, just to leave you behind and follow his dream. The fact that you weren't in his dream was enough to sting like disinfectant on a paper cut. Everything the pair of you had built or were planning on building, or so you thought, was ruined by his stupid sense of justice that never really did him any justice at all.

The punch in the gut that you felt when you woke up one morning to all his things gone and his key to your apartment laying on your kitchen counter while he sipped his morning cup of coffee with not a care in the world, was enough to knock the air from your lungs and any words from your throat.

He'd tried to explain it to you; that it'd be better this way, for both of you, and that he was sorry. His reasons were shit, to say the least. It would've hurt less if he'd just said he couldn't stand to look at you anymore.

Leon said he couldn't do long distance, that he needed his partner there with him and that, as a rookie, he wouldn't have time to call you anyway.

But all attempts at bargaining, that you'd literally follow him to the end of the world, were shut down immediately. He left you, stepping on the broken pieces of your heart as he walked out the door.

And he had the nerve to pull you into one last hug and press a gentle kiss to your forehead as if that would, in any way, fix the gaping hole that he'd left in your chest.

The crying burned all of your energy, you couldn't even find it in yourself to flinch when the infected right outside your door were stumbling over each other and torn of limbs like a newborn foal. As your hysteria subsided, the depressing outcome of your fate set in.

You would die tonight. Alone, heartbroken, in a trashed police station that, coincidentally, was the whole reason your lover had broken up with you in the first place.

Never to be found and rotting away until you fell onto the menu of the undead.

Your limbs felt like lead, your head was pounding and any little spark of hope or perseverance was snuffed out. You stood no chance.

Because, unfortunately, the media and every zombie movie ever had lied to you and the undead, were, in fact, not slow and dumb.

They were bloodthirsty, brutal and they would go after what they wanted. You had nothing to defend yourself. There was no way you could outrun them forever.

"Why zombies... why did it have to be zombies?!" You shouted at the sky, cursing whoever sat up there and got a blast out of making your life miserable.

You tugged at your hair as the tears started spilling again. What else as there to do?

You might as well write 'dinner' on your forehead and step out into the halls.

And then, from the corner of your blurred vision, you could see a light. A light that flitted around almost like... a flashlight? You wanted to hit yourself when you felt that faint feeling of hope bubbling up in your chest.

But, unless the infected had learned to use human devices (it wasn't too far off considering most of them were human themselves only a few hours ago), there was someone else out there.

The light was followed by gunshots and finally a door unlocking.

Your breath hitched in your throat and you scrambled off the floor, putting a good distance between you and the connecting door. The light was gone now, you figured its owner had done the same thing you did and barricaded themselves in the room.

But there was clear shuffling to be heard, and you could even make out a faint voice. Your whole body tensed in horror when the handle of the connecting door rattled.

You could've sworn you heard frustrated grumbling from the other side, but you didn't really give a shit when the whole door started shaking and the chair you'd lodged in front of it started to bend. With the limited vision you had, you quickly looked around for anything you could use to defend yourself.

You were about 93% sure that there was an actual person in the next room over but who knows what they're up to. Your gaze landed on a small potted plant.

Not ideal, but you figured a porcelain pot to the face could do a decent amount of damage. Maybe throw some soil in their eyes.

You raised the plant and kept your eyes trained on the door. The chair was cracking and the person seemed to throw their entire weight against the door, accompanied by laboured grunts.

The chair eventually gave out, as did the door, and the person stumbled in. You couldn't see anything, the flashlight that ignited your spark of hope just a few moments ago now burning away your retinas. You squinted, keeping a tight grip on the pot.

"Buttercup?"

Oh, fuck. You knew that voice. You knew that voice better than anything else in the world. This had to be a cruel joke.

"Leon?" You breathed, lowering the plant.

He quickly attached his flashlight to his belt and lowered his gun, making his way over to you in a few long strides.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Leon asked panicked, placing his hands on your arms.

You were frozen, not a single word left your mouth, the pot still in your hands.

You could only watch dumbly as his eyes searched for an answer within yours, a worried crease between his brows.

God, you'd missed him. You'd missed him so much. You could feel your heart, or what was left of it, twisting in your chest.

"I..." you forced out, eyes glistening with tears again. It was all you could muster.

"Why are you here?" He asked again, shaking you slightly. You could see the distress on his face.

".. You." You swallowed.

"Me? What do you mean?" His grip on you tightened, subconsciously you would assume. Your lower lip started trembling and you could feel another stream of hot tears spring from your lashline.

"I was worried.." You admitted with a shaking voice.

"I heard about the Outbreak, and I just wanted to know that you're okay." You cried, sobs racking through your chest.

"I didn't know there'd be fucking zombies!"

Leon was stunned and, suddenly, he regretted every decision he's ever made. He broke up with you, shattered your heart and you came here to check up on him? He could feel bile rising in his throat and his stomach churned.

He left you to keep you safe, to spare you any pain when he'd start his work on the force, and here you were, weeping your heart out, having doomed yourself for him.

"You... You came here because of.. me?" He asked, his own voice trembling.

You only managed to nod.

You must've been a sight. Crying over your ex after having stumbled into Armageddon with a fucking potted plant in your hands.

Leon swallowed thickly, his eyes watering as he took the porcelain pot out of your shaking hands and set it down on the desk you'd previously moved in front of the door.

"Buttercup..." the strained petname tugged uncomfortably on his vocal chords.

You looked up at him, met his eye, and his heart dropped to his stomach.

"Why did you leave me?" You wailed, wiping at your seemingly endless flood of tears.

Leon's jaw clenched and he took in a shuddering breath, trying to stop himself from breaking down.

"To keep you safe. All I wanted... was to keep you safe." He replied, the words getting stuck in his throat.

"This is the shit I wanted to keep from happening! You were supposed to be as far away as possible from all of this. I didn't exactly calculate for walking corpses, but I didn't want you to be in danger because of me. Why would come here?!" He hissed, frustrated.

He was so annoyed. Annoyed at you for being too sweet and kind to leave things as they are and annoyed at himself for not protecting you better.

You were taken aback by his response, wide eyed and speechless. But you could see the clear panic and fear in the ocean of tears in his blue eyes.

"Because I love you, you fucking idiot!" You snapped, your distress being replaced by a raging fire of anger.

The confession stopped him in his tracks and all he could do was stare at you.

"I thought I was gonna marry you! Move into a house with a white picket fence and a big yard. Maybe have a couple of kids along the way and some pets -at least one dog and a fluffy cat- and then you decided to walk out on me to keep me safe?! Do you even hear yourself?"

Everything bubbled over. All of the anger, the heartbreak, the sadness, the distress. And you let it. You didn't care anymore if he got burned.

"Doesn't even fucking matter anymore because I'm gonna die here anyway." You sniffled, wiping your eyes with your sleeve.

That seemed to snap him out of whatever trance he was in.

"Don't... don't say shit like that." He heaved, harshly pointing a finger your way before burying a hand in his hair and tugging at the sandy locks.

"Fuck." He cursed under his breath.

"I thought I was doing the right thing. To keep you away from all the bullshit that comes with being a cop..." he muttered, pressing the heel of his palms into his eyes.

"And for the record... leaving you was the hardest thing I ever had to do. And I regret every second of it. I love you more than life itself, and you weren't just in my future. You were my future. And I ruined it." He sounded hurt and vulnerable as he laid out his heart in front of you.

"Give me chance to make it right. Please." He croaked out, a pleading look in his glistening eyes.

"Leon.."

the tears you'd tried so hard to stop came back in a flood, staining your cheeks. You gently cupped his face, stroking your thumb over his cheekbone before pulling him into a tight hug.

He wasted no time wrapping his arms around you and holding you as if you could vanish any second.

"Don't leave me again.." you begged quietly.

"I'm so sorry. I love you so much." He cried into your shoulder, mumbling apologies and 'I love you's into the fabric of your sweater.

You held each other in that embrace for a while, soaking in your lover while everything else started to fade away.

Leon pulled his face from your shoulder and took your cheeks in his hands, wiping at your tears.

"I'll marry you when all of this is over, I swear it." He sniffled, watching as a sad smile followed by a wet giggle spread across your face.

"I love you." You whispered, sighing when he connected your lips in a passionate kiss.

The desperation Leon poured into the kiss was unlike anything you've ever felt before, and you didn't want it to end.

"I love you more, Buttercup." He pressed his forehead to yours in an intimate manner.

For a minute, it felt like just the two of you in the entire world, ignoring how you managed to mend your relationship in a trashed police office whole outside the gates the world was ending.

"We need to get out of here." He said quietly.

A dreading feeling settled in your stomach, but before you had a chance to respond, the TV mounted in the corner of the room crackled to life.

The room lit up, and you turned your focus to the corner and watched as the broadcast ran over the screen. Your eyes widened as you took in the words.

"They're gonna nuke the city..." you breathed out, swallowing thickly.

"What?" Leon exclaimed, panicked. Without a second thought he tightly grasped your hand and dragged you towards the door.

"We need to go." He said quickly.

"No, Leon, wait." You stopped him from moving the desk out of the way with a hand on his arm.

"Are you insane? We'll get turned to dust if we don't leave now." He urged.

"I... there's no way I'll make it through the night. You need to go without me."

Leon looked at you as if you'd lost your mind, and maybe you had, but it was either just you that died or the both of you.

He still had a chance.

"Are you out of your fucking mind?!" He hissed, grabbing your arm.

"Listen to me. You still have a chance to get out. I'd just slow you down." You explained, hoping, praying he'd understand.

"No, absolutely not. It's not over tonight. I-I won't go home without you- there is no home without you."

You bit your lip in order to hold back tears.

"Please, Leon. You can still make it." He shook his head, whether to say no to you or the option of leaving you behind again, you didn't know.

"I said I won't leave you again." He stated firmly, grabbing your wrist and tugging you into the corner of the room.

He sunk down onto the floor and pulled you into his arms, intending to never let go. You pushed yourself away from his chest and looked at him.

"What are you doing?" You asked frantically.

"I'm staying." Was all he answered, gently guiding your head back into the crook of his neck.

"It's gonna be alright." He whispered against your temple.

A lie, both of you knew it, but what else could you do. You melted into his embrace and braced yourself for what was to come.

One minute, it was just you in Leon's arms, holding each other lovingly, and the next, there was nothing.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

This was my first time writing for RE2!Leon specifically, so this might be a little ooc!

I give out free hugs and tissues if you need one 🫂🩷

《Leon taglist》: @k-fallingstar @vampkennedy @dmitriene @argreion @allysunny @leonslittlekennedy @angelstargel @entr4p3

Lmk if you wanna be added/removed 😚

More Leon and other works -> 💫

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

[brucewaynehater101]

I'm so glad you like it! Honestly, I'm pretty jealous as well. Though, I don't doubt he has the white noise generator and uses it on more than just those trips. Could you imagine Bruce and the other Bats going to the Supers, Clark, Kon, Kara, and Jon (who if I remember correctly has the best ears out of all of them) and when asked to track him down by sound, all of them are just like, "Red Robin? Oh no we can't do that." and when asked why, Clark gets nervous and says, "well. None of us have ever been able to hear his heart beat. We don't know what tech or magic he uses but *none* of us have ever been able to hear his heart. Not since he was 15. I asked you one time why I couldn't hear him and you just hummed at me!"

Meanwhile panic is rising in not just the hero community, but also the villain one. Red Robin has a *lot* of connections and if someone took or heaven forbid killed him? The Gothem Rouges remember what happened when the second Robin died, they know how bad Batman got. Now the Robin who saved them from him is gone? And now Nightwing and Red Hood and Spoiler and all the rest are on a Hunt, getting more violent like Batman did? Oh no, they are all going into hiding until this blows over.

Then there's also the villains connected to members of Young Justice. The Flash's Rouges Gallery hears that one of the Mini Speedsters is in a grief spiral and could end up seriously hurting them because one of his best friends has gone missing and is presumed dead? Fuck No. They are keeping their noses clean until it's done. So are the people who tend to antagonize Metropolis because Kon is *not* holding back. He grabbed Matallo and used his TTK to make him fall into thousands of pieces and then just stared down at him with a cold look of anger before leaving. Dr Light when to the ER when he tried to mess with the Teen Titans while both Dick and Damian were still on call and Tim was missing.

On day four of Tim being missing, Damian's head suddenly snaps up and he says, "I need to check a tracker." and the rest of the Bats follow him to the bat computer. When asked what he is doing, Damian admits, "a few years ago when I still hated Timothy, I put a tracker inside of his favorite camera, which he just so happened to bring with him on his trip. It may still be there and if he has his camera-" a few moments later, there is a ping on the screen showing the tracker is o the move, currently crossing the boarder from Kentucky into West Virginia. Tim has no idea what hell is coming for him, mostly because he figured that the Bats knew he did this every other month to unwind and relax. Traveling on a train for 4 to 6 days is his version of a vacation.

Glad for the add on. However, I think the angst reason for Tim "not having a heartbeat" would be because Kon died.

After Kon died, Tim created the machine to make sure no one else could hear his heartbeat (especially because Kon wasn't around for that anymore). When Kon came back, it was still a rough time for Tim. He was practically a feral and distrustful raccoon. Since he's still working on trusting people again, his heartbeat is still hidden (plus Kon hasn't brought it up, so Tim kind of forgot).

The stuff about the rogues is so true! That's why a few fanworks call Tim the "heart" of the batfam. I think all members play important roles and will similarly be missed. The heart comment is a cute nod to his role as a bridge and leash (he helped B obtain a larger support group and prevented him from killing people).

I like that this has Damian being the one to find out. Though Tim is grateful there's was a way for his family to find him while they were freaked out (he thought they knew about it), he's also exasperated at the tracker's existence. He probably pulls a prank on Damian for it.

Also, Tim 100% brings this incident back up with Bruce whenever the man complains about Tim's habit of overworking. He looks his father in the eyes and says, "The last time I took a vacation, you freaked out and mobilized the entire hero community to find me." They both know that's not what happened, but Tim is also not wrong.

[ajortga]

sweet pt.3

pairing: jenna ortega x fem reader

summary: jenna's plans don't go as expected with you, the cute coffee girl, you spend the day with her in the park instead.

word count: 3.8k+

a/n: idk what to think about this, but really wanted to get this out there. aggtm series mentioned!

read the previous parts here!: part 1 part 2 part 3

-

A day comes a little quicker than anticipated. You send her your address and she tells you she’ll come at 10:25.

Jenna spends the whole day after filming figuring out just what she’ll wear. 

‘It’s not even a date’ she’s trying to assure herself. A moment of weakness for her caused her to ask you out for anything but what she’d call a date.

Jasmin’s voice is already echoing in her head.

‘You know, Y/N, Jenna dressed extra fancy for this occasion. Spent all night trying to impress you. So feel proud, she doesn’t dress this well even on expensive dinner nights.’

The thought makes her groan, she wishes that it was filming day tomorrow. All they have to do is be there and listen to the picture of the director for their next shoot. 

She unhangs the top hidden in her closet and takes out a black off the shoulder long sleeve mini dress. Her eyes scan it for a moment, looking at the mirror while draping it over herself. Then she pairs it with a pair of gold hoops.

Sure it’s not simple, but she’d wear it to fancy dinners, so Jasmin wouldn’t tattle tale of her wearing something more extravagant because of you. She’ll just make up an excuse of some sort.

You told her to come at 10:25, you’re basically 10 minutes away from her. 

Jenna fucking wakes up at 7:25. The sight that she saw in the mirror was the closest thing to hideous she’d ever seen. Every morning the brunette looks like a messed up raccoon when she looks in the mirror. Her eyes staring dully at her, half-lidded and hair all scattered. 

The reflection stares back at her, a smile on her face. 

“This is actually so stupid,” Jenna says to herself, immediately dropping the giddy smile on her face. “Ridiculous.”

She tosses her clothes to the side, into the basket that held her unwashed clothes. Her fluffy cow slippers fly off as she feels the cold tile under her come in contact with her skin. 

She shivers.

The handle of the shower is turned to a warm setting. Leaned more to the hotter side, before she steps in and lets the warmth of the water tickle her bare skin. A sigh escapes from her lips, grabbing the best smelling shampoo her heart desires. It’s not even the day to wash her hair, but she does it anyway.

“Date, date, date” says the voice in Jenna’s head.

“Oh, so now you’re haunting my brain, Jasmin? Great.” She murmurs, shaking her head while letting her fingertips thread out her bubbly hair.

-

Jenna showers for 30 minutes, smelling as fragrant as possible. She hopes you like vanilla. Well, she doesn’t care if you like vanilla or not. She doesn’t even care about you. (Yeah no, that’s a lie)

Steam hisses out the shower when she steps out of the stall, body wrapped in a warm fluffy towel.

Her fingers brush through her hair as she blow dries and curls it, putting on her outfit she chose the day before, glimmering in the lifting sun. 

Then she puts on skin care and makeup, closing her eyes as she rinses her face off with her grapefruit wash, her eyeliner perfectly sweeping next to the tip of her eyes.

She sprays her favorite perfume. Which also coincidentally seems to be her most expensive one.

At 9:30 you send her a small text.

y/n, the nice okay coffee shop girl: hi, goodmorning! i hope i didn’t wake u if u were sleeping. i’m still not sure if you’re still picking me up at 10:25, i was waiting for a text yesterday to confirm but i didn’t want to push, yk?

“Shoot,” she mutters, mentally smacking herself in the face, she forgot to text you to let you know that it was for sure she was going to come get you. She furiously smacks her thumbs against the keyboard.

jelly bean: omg hi! Sorry, lowkey was kinda distracted yesterday.

Jenna stops for a moment, realizing she was distracted planning out her whole day and making sure that you’re impressed with what she shows you, before looking back at her phone to type more.

jelly bean: with work i guess but yes! 10:25 is still on. I hope u don’t mind being tagged along with a few people, they usually pick me up. Sorry for not texting!

seen at 9:34

y/n, the nice okay coffee shop girl: oohhh yeah don’t worry about it! I just didn’t want to bother u or anything

jelly bean: Text me anytime, you don’t bother me

jelly bean: I might just take a while to respond, but I do eventually. See u soon!

liked by y/n, the nice okay coffee shop girl

-

Honks are heard from her driveway as Jenna uses her spare time wrapped in her headphones and the book she was currently invested in, As Good as Dead. She places her bookmark through the page she was on and closes it, before she listens closely. 

Long-long-short-short

Yep, she knew that beeping pattern all too well to know that it was Jas. She grabs her keys, some gum, and her book before opening her front door.

“Hey girl! Oh shit, you look amazing!” Jasmin hollers, Mason screaming his head off in the passenger seat and Melissa poking her head out.

Jenna can feel her eyes rolling, a smile plastered on her face as she crawls into the back of the car, hugging Melissa.

She can hear the statement coming before Jasmin even says anything, “Oh, wait a minute. You’re all dressed up because of a certain someone, aren’t you?”

“No I’m not.”

Jasmin looks at her with a ‘really?’ look in her eyes from the rear-view mirror. “Hair styled and everything. Oh!” She gasps, turning her head slowly and teasing her.

“And your favorite perfume too.”

“Ay dios,” Melissa mumbles.

“Jasmin, I’m going to leave if you say anything when Y/N  goes through these car doors.” 

She gasps, offended, before giving up and letting Jenna off easy, “Okay, okay. No promises though.”

It’s silent for a moment, before Jasmin turns back from the wheel, “But I’m going to tell her if I catch you making out in the backseat of my car.”

“Jasmin!”

“Okay, okay, I’m going!” She yells, turning a right and following the navigation to your house.

-

When they pull up to your drive, where your lawn is perfectly mowed and littered with the most precious flowers, Jenna texts you.

jelly bean: i’m here

She looks over to your window, her attention drawing away from her phone. Your house was white, nice windows and cute gnomes and exterior looks. Jenna only looked away for a few seconds, to look back at her phone and see Jasmin was literally nudging her nose through your messages.

“What the fuck!” Jenna screams.

“Y//n, the nice okay coffee shop girl,” she replies out loud, a bit too loud. “Oh wow, you even have her in your pinned messages.”

Melissa leers over, looking at the two as they smack each other's hands. 

She has to physically stop Jasmin and Jenna fighting playfully, “She’s coming out.”

They don’t hear her. Of course. 

And before Jenna knows it, she’s shaking her phone out of the other girl’s hand. She hears a tap on the window and looks up.

“Hi,” you greet, glancing at the people behind her. You wore a pearl necklace, hoops dangling from your ears. Jenna noticed that she’d never seen you without your apron at the cafe. Now you’re here, wearing something that you usually wouldn’t wear. She shook her head, trying to get rid of the dreamy thoughts.

The phone that was grasped is immediately let go and Jenna looks at you with eyes wide. It takes a moment to be able to register what was going on.

“Can I slip in?”

Jenna pops out of her thoughts, immediately opening the car door for you and scooting into the middle seat, “Oops, yeah, my bad, sorry.”

Jasmin rolls her eyes, “Amauteur,” she whispers under her breath, watching you buckle in your seat belt. She notices the way you tilt your legs to the side of the window, like you can give Jenna leg room.

“Hope you don’t mind a few friends tagging along?” She says, looking at you as you stare at the window.

“Oh no, it’s all okay.” You glance at her for a moment, trying to avoid the way everyone is basically staring at you.

“I’m Melissa,” the brunette next to Jenna says to you.“Melissa Barrera,” she adds, a small roll of her r’s present. She has eyes like one of a deer, wavy hair, and looks sweet. The smile she gives off eases your nerves a little as you give a small one back. 

“I’m Jas and this is Mason. Don’t get near him, he has a thing for throwing anything in his arms when someone scares him..” The curly short-hair driver says, like spilling a secret. It makes Jenna smile. You scoot just a teeny bit closer.

Mason gasps, smacking her arm as she drives to the set, “For your information, it’s called reflexes. Chad would definitely have survived, could’ve gotten away by accidentally hitting ghostface whack with a guitar.” They share a laugh. 

Jenna digs in her bag for something, earbuds. Damn it, you didn’t expect her to listen to music. You didn’t want to just curl up in the window while the other three were talking. You were hoping to get to know her better. 

“So, coffee girl,” Mason’s voice brings you back from your thoughts. He stays silent for a moment before whispering, “We’re trying to get to know your name!” As if he didn’t already know from the gazillion number of times Jenna told them. He’d just have to play stupid.

“Jenna named you cute coffee girl on her phone,” Jasmin teased, “No, I’m just kidding.”

You give an awkward laugh, feeling the way Jenna tenses against you. You don’t catch the dead glare she gives to her. You hope you’re not a bother to her, maybe she thinks of you too lowly to find you cute. You let it go, “It’s Y/N,” you softly say.

“That name is pretty,” Melissa says, Jenna agrees, getting the courage to nudge your shoulder like she usually does when the other 3 aren’t around. You nudge her back. 

“Thanks,” you murmur, giving a thankful smile.

-

“What the shit do you mean there's no filming today?” Jasmin hollers, slamming the gate with her palms. 

“Jas, I think you got the wrong date,” the tall brunette says next to you. Jenna skeptically looks at the girl, currently complaining, “I got my hair done and everything!” 

The shorter girl taps on her phone, you stay close by, “Wow, I thought you were just a little shorter than me. But man, you really are short.” 

She shoots you a look, her freckles apparent on her face. She flips you off. “How do you miss the day by 4 days?”

Mason jumps up and down, slamming his fists into his chest, “You know what that means… MOVIE MARATHON NUMBER TWENTY-” 

“No.”

“Ok,” Mason mumbles, defeated. 

It’s a little chilly, you try to get familiar with your surroundings. It’s a filming studio, you’ve seen it before when you drove to work. You try to think where you five could go to that was nearby. 

“There's a garden nearby, if you guys are willing to go. We don’t have to go if you guys don’t want to. I’ve driven there before and it’s really nice, I just never had the time to actually go there.” You suggest.

Jenna looks up at you, scrunching her nose. You sniff, ruffling her hair as she speaks, “I thought you only knew about coffee.”

“Lucky for you I’m a lady too,” you reply, grabbing out plain crackers from your backpack. “You wanna feed the geese?”

She snatches the crackers and opens it, “Yes,” she says, already stuffing her mouth with the crackers. “This brand is fire.” 

You chuckle, before snatching the bag back and putting it into your backpack, “Miss, I can assure you you will be given more crackers if you help me feed the wild animals,” your voice is sarcastic.

“But Jenna is a wild animal,” Jasmin states.

“Oh, right,” you say, nodding up and down like it was a realization. “Here you go, jelly bean.” You throw the cracker in Jenna’s mouth while she munches it happily.

“Duck duckity duck goose.” Mason sing-songs, dancing with his hands everywhere, “I want me a goose so I can juice a moose.” 

Jasmin looks at him, weirded out, “Juice a moose?”

“Have you never heard of rhyming?”

“Mason is so silly like a Billy that wants a chili- Okay guys that’s enough.” Melissa interrupts, “I’d love to hear your rap battle but I want to come home with flowers so let’s GO.”

Mason and Jasmin cross their arms, rolling their eyes, “Aw man."

-

You five walk across the garden, the sweet smell filling the air. You look at Jenna, currently flipping through the starting pages of a book that looks oddly familiar.

"Is that a book from A Good Girl's Guide to Murder?"

The question makes her ears perk, immediately looking at you, "Yeah, actually it's the third book."

There is nothing more that makes her heart swell than to see your smile right here and now, "I love that series! I finished all of Holly Jackson's books in the span of 2 weeks."

"Really? I just remember reading the first one and really liking it. What did you think of it?"

Your eyes shine, "It was so good! Had me in a book frenzy. I like the third one the best, though I thought it was kind of slow at first. It definitely has the most action. You'll love it."

"I'm glad to hear that. Hey, maybe we should read the same books or watch the same movies and compare our tastes, music wise too!"

You look like a little girl on Christmas Eve, a silly smile on your face, "I'd love that!"

Jasmin, Melissa, and Mason whisper among each other, smirking at the two of you. "They're already flirting."

-

“So,” Jenna starts, walking with you across the meadow filled with flowers, it looks so pretty, just like you. She could say that, maybe you’ll find her strange and stare at her with a straight face, so she doesn’t. “Why did you decide to work at a coffee shop?”

You look down at her, playing with your necklace, “I don’t know. Honestly, I used to bake a lot when I was little. It was mostly because my brother was a fatass.” You say seriously, and Jenna turns to you, going, “Oh.”

It’s silent for a moment, before you start giggling, “No! I’m just kidding, sure my brother was hungry. But I started baking cause my grandma was always in the kitchen making random shit. It was just that I liked spending time with her. I guess it sort of rubbed off on me.” You look at her and she takes in your eyes. She didn’t know how to explain it. But Jenna would say something in them made you special. 

You tear your gaze, looking at the blossoming display of flowers in front of you.

“Do you think you’d like doing it for the rest of your life?”

The display of different flowers growing makes the setting like spring. “Maybe, I don’t know. Maybe not the rest of my life. I mean,” You don’t know how to explain yourself. “Well, as much as I love baking and carrying on the piece I can only connect to my grandma, I guess I’m not always going to be happy baking.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Baking is something I like to do for a hobby. I like to do it because I want to do it whenever I feel a certain way. But it’s not really fun when I have to do it no matter what I’m feeling, if you can understand that.”

Jenna nods, “Yeah, I do.” She murmurs as you guys find a place to sit down. The other three walk around.

“So, what do you want to be?” she asks, now a little more intrigued. 

“Something in film. I always wanted to do something like that. A director maybe, I guess I want to be in an atmosphere that’s based on what I see on set.” You pick at the daisies in front of you, tucking it in your ear and offering Jenna one, she takes it. “My parents never let me do anything with theater when I was in high school. I remember I wanted to do it for 3 years, when freshman year of high school started, I was going to apply. But my parents forced me to take something else when they looked over my decisions.”

The shorter girl looked at you, the way you twirled the flower in your hand. It seemed like the subject made you a little vulnerable, the lack of seeing your soulful gaze gave it away. 

“I was pretty upset,” you sigh, scratching your head, “I mean, sure I understood that they just wanted me to have a career that could make me a living, something that I wouldn’t regret. But even then, I wish I could’ve just done it for fun, take the experience. At least if I couldn’t do it as a career, I wanted freshman year to be the time to explore. I just kind of gave up, knowing that what my parents wanted was only trying to protect me.”

Jenna could understand you. She too was rejected when she wanted to first act. She could remember slamming her tiny hands into her pillow as she sobbed angry tears when her mother told her no. Maybe she should’ve been more thankful that she was given the opportunity. You never were told yes.

You wrap your arms around your knees, she does the same and feels you put your head on your shoulder. “What are your favorite flowers, jelly bean?”

“Roses. Light pink ones. Sunflowers and daisies are nice too.” She says, also tucking the daisy against her ear. “What about you?”

“Tulips. Pink, blue, yellow. I think they’re just so pretty. I love hydrangeas too. The light blue ones if I’m choosing a color.”

Jenna tries to keep that in mind. You look away from her, putting a strand of hair behind your ear as you look at the never ending garden in front of you two. She pulls out her phone, snaps a photo of you looking into the distance, away from her. You don’t notice.

“Tulips suit your favorite flower,” she murmurs. “I heard people match their favorite flower.” She puts her phone down as you turn to her. 

It takes you a moment to get what she’s saying. She thinks you’re pretty. It makes her smile when she sees you realize what she’s saying. The least you can do is give her a foolish grin, “Thanks. You suit your favorite flowers too.”

“Guys, geese!” Mason’s voice interrupts, all breathy and out of breath from running to you guys. “I want to feed them, come on!”

You and Jenna get swept off your feet as you run with her into the flower-filled meadow to the small pond filled with ducklings, geese, swans, and fish. 

They quack, waddling up to you as you pull out your crackers. It doesn’t take long for at least 30 animals to come to you. Half of them aren’t even geese. Squirrels, jack rabbits, heck, even a stray cat. 

You hand the crackers to Jenna, before bending down and petting the orange kitten. “Hello there,” you say in a baby voice, petting it as it meows and nudges its body to your legs. You giggle, sitting down and letting it rest on your lap. “You’re a small one, aren’t you?” The cat makes a small noise as you stroke its soft, orange fur.

Jenna hands the crackers to Mason and the other two. “I never seen a stray this cute before,” she squeaks, petting the small cat’s head gently. 

The kitty purrs, licking your hand that’s scratching its side. It’s a boy. “What should we call this adorable creature?”

“What about Tiny?” 

“Tiny it is. Tiny the tiny kitty.” You grab an apple slice and let Jenna feed him.

“Oh you’re so cute!” She exclaims, cradling Tiny. He seems pretty clean, you hold him. “I wonder what it’s doing out here.”

“I think it’s a sign for us to start a pet daycare.”

You giggle.

-

Mason, Melissa, and Jasmin run around, throwing crackers to ducks.

“SOMEONE FUCKING HELP ME!” Jasmin cries, accidentally hitting the cracker whack in the goose’s face, running around as it’s chasing her. “I’M BEING CHASED!” She screams, throwing her arms in the air as you and Jenna watch her, laughing and huddled up against a tree.

Mason and Melissa snort, shaking their heads and rolling their eyes. “This is what she gets for taking all the cute and chubby ducks.”

Jasmin shrieks, running into a patio for the park nearby and closing the gate.

30 minutes pass and everyone is calmed down, except Jasmin, who’s cautiously eyeing the goose who chased her. “If you can run faster than me, I’m going to apply to be a track runner bitch.”

You're napping on Jenna’s shoulder, Tiny cuddled up against you two. She snaps another picture of you, smiling widely. 

-

The day after, you open your phone to be greeted with a new post from Jenna on instagram.

-

liked by melissabarreram and 6,810,532 others

jennaortega: Day in the park with my favorites. 3rd photo taken by melissa, te amo

melissabarram: Pretty girls 😍 

y/n_l/n: we are oh fish ally giving tiny a new daycare cutie

↳ jennaortega: oh yes, we first need to sign a contract of marriage and work

aliyah.ortega: yes queen

jasminsavoy: i'm never going there again, i almost got brutally murdered by that goose.

masonthegooding: 🔥need to plan a picnic there

-

You smile to yourself, letting yourself lean on your side as you grin. You send her another text on Insta.

y/n, the nice okay coffee shop girl: i have to sign a contract of both marriage AND work? what if i have to choose just one?

jelly bean: 🤷‍♀️ i can only give you one contract if you tell me your schedules for your shifts. Do u know how many times I came in and am greeted with someone completely different?

y/n, the nice okay coffee shop girl: okay maam, you got it ! :p

sent 1 attachment

jelly bean: Thanks for ur service

jelly bean: let's make a playlist together

jelly bean: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/<3

reacted with 💗

-

[sunny-fox]

Random thought from yesterday:

Pet! SAHSR (Self Aware Honkai Star Rail) AU

Notes: reverse isekai, characters turn into animals, Astral Express Crew, Caelus and Stelle are twins, kind of Cult! AU?

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

Dutch Rabbit! Pom Pom who pretends that they don't like being petted. They don't look at you when you pet them, opting to stare at random things around them, but they move towards you slowly and secretly, a few steps at a time. They nuzzle into your palm but pretend that they didn't afterwards by ignoring you multiple times when you call their name. Pom Pom does try to nip at your fingers if you ruffle their fur too often, thinking that you're trying to mess up their soft fur. If Pom Pom is feeling particularly friendly on some days, they might even let you hold them for hours (they usually lie still in your arms for about 5 minutes before squirming to get away). March will start complaining and pawing at your arm though, as it's her spot on other days.

Cocker Spaniel! March 7th who loves following you around your house. She's quite energetic, often bringing her toys to you, pleading for you to play with her through her gaze. You do play with her, but it's impossible to do so every 10 minutes, what with your work and everyday duties. March gets bored when you can't play with her, lying on the floor and looking here and there for something else to play with (that isn't her toys). Don't be surprised when you return to the living room and find your bags turned inside out, belongings undamaged but strewn across the floor, Himeko picking them up and piling them together for you. March wants you to think of it as revenge for not playing with her (>:3).

Siberian cat! Dan Heng who prefers resting on cat trees than interacting with the others. He'll swipe a paw at anyone (except you) who dares invade his personal space, though he acts more lenient towards the other pets. He watches you from his special spot on the cat tree every time you walk around the house doing chores or just going from one room to another. Sometimes Dan Heng does follow you just like March, but if you tell him that he's practically tripping you every step you take, he quietly leaves and goes back to his spot. If March is following you as well, Dan Heng will paw at her back, telling her to follow him to the living room. He'll ask for help from Welt if she doesn't listen.

Maine Coon! Himeko who's just like the mom of the group. She's mostly calm, but will gently nip at the younger pets' ears or swipe a paw at them - claws retracted, of course - if they misbehave. Himeko likes it when you brush her fur. Eight to nine out of ten times she falls asleep when you do so. She has to have her fur brushed weekly if not daily - she'll bring her comb to you and purr to let you know. Himeko will curl up next to you if you let her sleep on your bed, guarding you throughout the night, nuzzling against you when you wake up screaming (or not) from nightmares.

Bernese Mountain Dog! Welt who's really calm and quiet. He rests his snout on the edge of your bed each morning so the first thing you see when you wake is a pair of honey-coloured eyes staring right back at you. Please pat his snout as a good morning; he'll feel so happy if you do! As mentioned above, Dan Heng asks Welt for help when March insists on running in circles around you: he picks her up by the scruff and takes her away. Welt likes to accompany you on walks at night, treasuring the precious time he gets to spend with you. There's this one time when you took a photo with Welt and put a pair of toy glasses on his snout. He seemed to love those glasses a lot after that.

Raccoons! Caelus and Stelle who are disappointed that they can't go dumpster diving in your house. You can't have garbage strewn around your house, after all. You caught them red-handed during their first few attempts after arriving at your house. When you leave your house, they'll try to dig through the trash cans again. March and Dan Heng try to stop them, with March tugging on Stelle's tail with her mouth and Dan Heng standing on his hind legs, trying to pry Caelus off the can. Eventually you prepared a huge box for the troublemaker twins and hid new toys or snacks in it, underneath old clothes and colourful, hollow plastic balls. That seemed to satisfy their interest in dumpster diving, albeit briefly. Caelus and Stelle still try to climb into trash cans whenever they go on walks with you.

Even though Pom Pom was a rabbit, Dan Heng and Himeko were cats, Welt and March were dogs, and Caelus as well as Stelle were raccoons, they often stuck together like a family. Pom Pom likes to make Welt's back their personal couch. Welt won't move at all unless you pick up Pom Pom or Pom Pom climbs off his back. Himeko plays with March to distract her from turning your house upside down when you're busy. Caelus, Stelle and Dan Heng lie in a cuddle pile during naps. Sometimes March, Himeko, Welt and Pom Pom join them too. You're quite puzzled as to why they love each other dearly, but hey, it's nice to see them acting like family, no?

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

Had a lot of fun writing this :D

[comicaurora]

What are your thoughts on guardians vol.3? (If you have watched it) I went into it, expecting it went to the garbage like the rest of the mcu, but I was pleasantly surprised by its creativity, trope subversion, and how it wrapped up the previously unresolved arks of its characters.

That's what I've heard!

The thing is, Guardians 3 could be the most transcendent work of cinema ever made, and I'd probably still feel little to no motivation to watch it at this point. It's not Guardians's fault - it's just suffering from the same problem that superhero comics have been struggling with for decades: no matter how good an individual arc or run is, absolutely nothing good lasts or matters in the long term, and the stories are shaped in such a way that "the long term" is the only thing anyone gets to build towards.

Whenever I complain about the MCU I get a handful of people loudly complaining about my complaining, with the general thesis that if I don't like it I shouldn't watch it or talk about it - if I'm not having fun, just stop engaging with it. And the thing is, I have. I am intellectually interested in why this massive franchise is fumbling the bag so hard, which is why I still check in on it sometimes, but I've long since stopped turning to the MCU for uncritical entertainment. And even the good movies or shows with a lot of interesting ideas - good character arcs, fun concepts, interesting planting for future payoff - don't draw me in anymore, because they're hooked into a massive moneymaking machine that will scrap and squander anything if they think it'll make them more in the quarter. It doesn't matter how good the writing is, because the writers are not allowed to tell a complete, finished story, and they have no control over what happens to their characters outside of their own script.

Captain America's arc was set up from literally minute one to answer one burning question at the core of his character: does a world without a war still need Captain America? After that incredibly basic tee-up at the end of First Avenger, half a dozen movies failed to come up with a reason to say "yes," and now Steve is retired for good after getting fumbled through four different storylines that couldn't even pretend that they needed him (the unused Chekhov's Phone from the end of Civil War still haunts me). The foundational arc of his entire character never happened because nobody bothered to keep track of it past a single movie.

Taika did something interesting with Thor in Ragnarok - take away Mjolnir, force him to recognize what it means to be the god of thunder, give him a very Odin-y missing eye - and the very next movie undid all of it. Just kidding, never mind, here's an eye and a new weapon and also his old weapon again, and in one more movie we're even gonna give him his hair back, probably as an apology for all the completely unironic fatphobia we're gonna slather him in for two and a half hours. I'm not even surprised Love And Thunder was such an overblown mess that barely took itself seriously - why would Taika bother trying to give Thor another arc when the powers that be will just roll it back in six months anyway?

I hear Rocket Raccoon has a fantastic arc in this movie. That's great, and demonstrates that he's being written by a writer that deeply cares about him. But he's part of the MCU, and the MCU doesn't let anything end, so if current patterns hold, Rocket is going to continue to serve as quippy plushie-bait for the next dozen movies and none of that depth is going to come through in the long term. Hell, since they're making Kang noises for the Next Big Threat and Kang's entire gimmick is rewriting timelines, literally none of this is guaranteed to matter. By next year, it might not have even happened anymore.

The MCU has successfully shaped itself into a paradigm where the bright spots of good writing are overridden and lost as soon as the writers room turns over, and that makes it really hard for me to muster up the enthusiasm to watch even a really good movie that's locked into the exact same grist mill as everything else. I'm glad people liked it, I hope it gets to stay good this time - I just have no desire to watch it.