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#I don’t know how often I can repeat that I love this man
spotsandsocks · 3 days
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The Last of the Tea is Gone
This started life as a title prompt from ask game sent to me by @madambeetrootn who I can not tag sadly. They liked it, I liked it so I’ve spruced it up and here it is for a bit of light fluff before 7x10 breaks our heart.
If there’s one thing that Eddie does not like it’s doing the grocery shop, regardless of his feelings though he’ll do a good job, a thorough job and that means making a list. So it’s time to look through the cupboards and check what they need.
The second cupboard door he opens generates a frustrated growl. Reaching up with clenched teeth, he shakes his head, how many times does he have to tell him? Again! This is sadly not the first time he’s found an empty box of teabags sitting on the shelf.
It’s Buck’s tea, the one that he drinks whenever he’s round. Disgusting stuff but for some reason he loves it.
Sighing the sigh of the long suffering Eddie grabs hold of the offending cardboard, why can’t that man ever put an empty box or bottle in the recycling. It’s not that hard. Eddie manages it every day. Even Chris half the time but Buck not so much.
The moment freezes as Eddie looks at his hand holding the vanished tea and a thought blazes through his mind bright and intense and overwhelming.
Buck keeps his tea here, the thought shifts and changes, no …he keeps Buck’s tea here, for him. He remembers buying the last box clearly. Buck wasn’t even with him that day, he was grocery shopping on his own, and why is Buck even with him sometimes when he does the grocery shopping anyway?
After that question others flood his mind.
Why does he buy Buck’s tea? Why does it run out so often?
What does it mean?
He knows, oh god he knows… finally he sees it.
Eddie stays frozen to the spot, staring at the small cardboard cartoon that’s caused him to have an existential crisis in his own kitchen.
Footsteps and a voice finally shake him.
“What’s wrong?” Buck sounds worried. Eddie supposes he probably does make an unusual picture right now. Staring at an empty box. He looks up and finds blue eyes and a frown close by.
“The last of the tea is gone.”
Perfectly clear from his point of view but not so much from Buck’s
“The last of the tea is gone?,” The sentence is repeated with concern and a deepening frown. “And that’s …. a bad thing? You don’t even drink my tea, why are you so upset about it?”
“It doesn’t last very long.”
Another random comment from Eddie at least as far as Buck is concerned but the words mean everything to Eddie.
Buck steps closer, a hand tentatively reaching out to support his best friend through his unexpectedly complicated feelings about tea. He speaks slowly.
“No… that’s ‘cos I drink it. That’s what you do with tea…Eddie are you ok.?”
He’s a man of action always had been so now he knows, well there’s really no option but to do something with the information. He answers his best friend, the man who’s ended up so much more important to him than he could ever have imagined on the day they met. The man he buys tea for and the man who drinks it in his home so often it barely lasts.
“Not really.” Eddie looks at Buck and wonders if he can see what’s coming. “Well maybe …I guess it depends on if you’re in love with me because I just worked out I’m in love with you.”
Buck laughs, a brief surprised bark of humor and then his grin lights up the kitchen.
“Really? That’s what finally did it? An empty box of tea?
Eddie smiles back, how could he not when he has this.
“Apparently. So… are you?”
Eddie doesn’t get an answer but he does get a kiss and that kiss tastes like Buck’s stupid tea, which is isn’t so bad after all.
Maybe he’ll get two boxes next time.
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babyleostuff · 3 months
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when you call them your husband | ot13
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❥ seungcheol 
goes through five stages of a mental breakdown, because what did you just call him??? if you ever called him your husband in front of people, cheol would turn into a stuttering mess with cheeks as red as a tomato. if you did it when you were by yourselves he’d start whining like a bitch, getting shy as hell, because why are you messing with his heart like that? on rare days, though, he’d embrace the husband figure and start calling you “wife” and make you shy
❥ jeonghan 
so smug - no one would be able to wipe that studpid ass smirk off of his face. it does mess with him a bit, though, because come on - calling him your husband??? but he’d try his best to act unaffected, because it’s jeonghan, and he needs to be cool :))) (i’m going to repeat this so many times throughout this headcanon, but all of them would start to freak out a bit thinking about a day when this won’t be a joke anymore, hannie included)
❥ joshua 
is he really surprised when you call him your husband? not really. he knows he’s a husband material, and you often make jokes about him being your husband anyways. that doesn’t mean he isn’t freaking about it on the inside, though, because no matter how many times you call him that as a silly little joke, it still makes him so incredibly happy that one day, he’ll really be your husband, and you won’t be calling him that as a joke anymore
❥ jun 
one of the “turns into a shy, blushy, and a stuttering mess” squad. he’d malfunction at first, point at himself, and melt into a puddle of fluff, and love. one - how dare you call him your literal husband as a joke??? second - give him all the kisses, and hugs, because his first instincts is to run away, and break out in tears from all the love. he doesn’t really know what to do with himself after you say that word, but you can be sure it’ll be in his head for the rest of the day 
❥ hoshi 
soonyoung would be confused for a second, because “wait, are you talking about me?” and when he’d finally understand that, yes - you were talking about him (because who else would you be talking about), he’d get so smiley and giggly and shy, and just turn into the cutest bean. he’d immediately cling to you, wrapping his arms around you and trapping you in a warm hug, giggling like a maniac
❥ wonwoo 
cue shy wonwoo with his lil cat smile. he can’t help the butterflies fluttering in his tummy, and as much as he’d want to tease you for calling him your husband, he’d be too shy to actually do it. you calling him that would make him so happy for some reason, even though he knows that you mainly do it as a prank or a joke to mess with him. don’t do it in front of people, though, or he’ll run away
❥ woozi 
“anything for you, baby.” woozi always indulges in all of your silly antics and jokes, and this time it’d be no different. he’d try to act as unaffected as he could, but his acting skills are not always the best, so you’d still be able to catch a glimpse of a small smile and blushy cheeks. he isn't the type to think about marriage, kids, and your domestic future together, he prefers to focus on what you have now, but hearing that word coming from you, would make his heart flutter a bit faster
❥ dk 
“yes, i am.” smiles cutely at you, and gives you a bone crushing hug, while freaking the fuck out on the inside. he won’t comment on it too much in the moment, but the way he’d be extra clingy throughout the day, giving you ten times more kisses, and hugs, and pouts, and any physical affection. the thought of becoming your husband some day is so??? because it will happen someday, and that’s kind of crazy
❥ mingyu 
cue mingoo giggles, because that man would not be able to behave himself after hearing the word husband from you. will whine, smile, laugh, hug you, pick you up and spin you around like a lovesick teenager, and when he finally calms down, he’d give you the biggest smooch. even though you had marriage talks plenty of times before - you both knew you’d get married some time in the feature, hearing it from you - saying it so casually, messed with his heart so much 
❥ minghao 
as someone who has mentioned a couple of times before that he wants to get married, hearing the word “husband” coming from you would make him so so happy and giddy, to the point where he’d just stand there with a lovesick smile on his face, and the urge to hug and kiss the life out of you (he wouldn’t though, he has to keep his composure) (but don’t worry, he’d kiss your forehead and tell you how much he loves you) (all with an adorable blush covering his cheeks)
❥ seungkwan 
turns into a shy and blushy mess. seungkwan’s first instinct is to hide his face in his hands or your neck, so you wouldn’t see the effect that the word had on him (even though you could clearly see how it affected him). then he’d probably proceed to yell at you (lovingly) for making such mean jokes (he wants to be your husband now, boyfriend is not enough)
❥ vernon 
at first he would think that he had misheard you, so you’d have to repeat the word two or three more times, because why would you ever call him your husband? and when you’d clarify that, yes - you did say the word “husband”, and yes - it was directed to him, vernon would just stare at you with big eyes but no thoughts. you’d laugh at him immediately, because the lack of his reaction was even funnier than if he’d react. then he’d say “thank you” and proceed with the rest of his day with the word “husband” floating around his head
❥ chan 
leechan.exe has stopped working. looks at you with the biggest puppy eyes, pointing at himself, as if he was asking if you were really talking about him. it’s so crazy to him that you’d call him that even as a joke, because hearing the word “husband” coming from you is??? hello??? and the fact that someday he’ll really be your husband??? you can expect chan to be a bit more clingy than he usually is (a bit more pouty too, because what do you mean you called him that as a joke?)
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taglist (if you want to be added, check my masterlist): @jeonghansshitester @soul-is-a-strange-kid @weird-bookworm @sea-moon-star @hanniehaee @wonwooz1 @byprettymar @edgaralienpoe @staranghae @itza-meee @eightlightstar @immabecreepin @whatsgyud @hyneyedfiz @honestlydopetree @vicehectic @dkswife @uniq-tastic @marisblogg @aaniag @daegutowns @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @embrace-themagic @ohmyhuenings @nidda13 @hrts4hanniehae @k-drama-adict @isabellah29 @f4iryjjosh @bangantokchy @mrswonwooo @bangtancultsposts @lllucere @athanasiasakura @chillseo @onlyyjeonghan @haecien @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @hannahhbahng @valgracia @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @mirxzii @hhusbuds @wonranghaeee @rosiesauriostuff @gyuguys @aaasia111 @tomodachiii @veryfabday @lilmochiandsuga @asasilentreader @mrsnervous @bewoyewo @sharonxdevi @wondipity @gyuguys @raginghellfire @treehouse-mouse @waldau
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suguru-getos · 10 months
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࿐ husband neuvillette nsfw hcs (f!reader) ࿐
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you didn’t know when you got married to the chief justice that he was that good in bed. like? how? where do you get the time? :// honestly — it’s insane. the way he knows your sweet spot as if it’s what he’s been searching for all this time. when the first time you two did it, it got you dizzy and you cried at the overwhelming love & affection he showered you with.
peppering sweet kisses everywhere, your forehead, your cheek, your chin, right below your ears until he reaches your collarbone !! neuvillette loves to nibble onto your supple skin. gently suckling at the sweet spot on your neck until you get used to it, then switching to a harsher suckle, maybe a little teeth. it’s the territorial instinct inside him which gets him hard and turned on the moment he sees you all vulnerable and marked up.
he loves toying with your titties, he’d literally spend a lot of time on them. massaging them, kneading them with his large, powerful hands and marking them his. the way his tongue twirls into your aching bud and makes you gasp for more. yes, he has made you cum with just your titties alone. you didn’t know it was possible until neuvillette decided it is.
neuvillette is a dom inside out. a pleasure dom who gets off to seeing you writhe under him. you’d always be told to moan out. “come now darling, don’t try to hide your moans. i want to know how it makes you feel.” he’d slowly yank your palm off your mouth. “sing for me.” he cooes as he thrusts inside you, watching your eyes roll back in sheer pleasure.
breeding kink 101. i think he uses a lot of words and phrases like, “going to look so cute with your belly carrying our child”, “going to breed my little angel full of me, she can take it right? of course she can. tell me — tell me you want to be bred full of my seed.”
size kink -> it’s always hard for you to fit him inside, he’s especially huge and girthy, veins decorating his thick cock while he lubes your cunt with his pre. he loves when you get a little intimidated by his size until he has to assure you that he’d always take care of you & never hurt you.
despite him not being too harsh most of the time, he still insists on there being safewords. “don’t want this possibility to ever come true, but still, no harm in being prepared darling.” he’s fine if you make up your own safe word or he is happy to follow the traffic light system for ya.
sometimes though? you want him to snap. best method is to make your territorial dragon jealous. there are often events like banquets held in fontaine & as the chief justice; he mostly attends those. it’s more than easy for you to rile him up by being a tad too nice with others 🤷🏻‍♀️ he’d pin you against the wall, the same stern glare that he carries in court now attacking you. “seems like you’re purposely getting on my nerves darling.” he hums, leaning in and inhaling your scent. “going to make sure to take proper measures so this isn’t repeated. you’re going to like that too much won’t you?” oh yes you will —
he doesn’t do punishments, just funishments. you’d have to ask him to partake in those because let’s be real, you can’t possibly expect the man who’s simping for you so hard to think of the possibility of hurting you. you’d have to tell him you like the pain. 😏 impact play, edging, he’d be partaking in all those for his little darling.
he likes to particularly cockwarm you though. it’s the whole power play high of it and the desperation in your eyes which makes it exhilarating for him. “stay still for me yes? i don’t want you to not cum now. just because you’re greedy.” oh you love it when he gets all in control like that.
whenever he decides to spank you, it’s always going to be over the knee. he wants to feel you close, it comforts both you & him. the impact precise and calculated, watching the color of your ass change with a soft smirk. “you love this too much don’t you? ah~ i can see it.” fingers languidly touching your needy, wet pussy as the spanks push you over the edge.
aftercare king and he’s almost apologetic after every harsh scene. “you okay? sure? i want you to know i love you & you did so well for me. i’m so proud of my wife.” words of affirmation king 👑 along with a clingy cuddle bug. 🤭
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auras-moonstone · 8 months
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how you get the girl — ethan landry
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word count: 3,654
pairing: hockey player!ethan landry x fem!reader
summary: because of ethan’s reputation as a man-whore, y/n doesn’t believe he wants a serious relationship with her. so, ethan and chad make a list so that he can get the girl.
warnings: fluff.
author’s note: i’ve been reading lots of hockey rom-coms, so i needed to write about it. i’m obsessed with ethan as a hockey player😫
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ETHAN DIDN’T KNOW HOW BADLY HIS ACTIONS WOULD COME BACK IN THE FUTURE TO BITE HIM IN THE ASS. Being captain of the Blackmore hockey team and certified pretty boy, girls were practically—and quite literally sometimes—throwing themselves at him, and he would lie if he said he didn’t love the attention. It would be easier and shorter to name the girls he hadn’t hooked up with than naming the ones he had. That gained him the reputation of being a playboy, and he didn’t mind being called that, to be completely honest. Or at least, he didn’t until Y/N came into his life.
She was Tara’s best friend, and since said girl started dating Ethan’s best friend, Chad, the four of them began spending lots of time together. At first, the boy flirted with Y/N because hitting on attractive girls was like second nature to him, but then he got to know her better and the unexpected thing happened—Ethan was swept off his feet. But his reputation was his karma, and Y/N didn’t think he was being serious with her. She would laugh and brush it off because no matter how gorgeous Ethan was, playboys weren’t Y/N’s type, so she would decline every attempt of him to make her go out with him.
“Why not? Just one date” Ethan said on his fifth attempt of the day. They were on the Blackmore hockey rink, and instead of using his break to drink water and rest, Ethan went to talk to Y/N.
“Exactly. You want just one date, get me inside your bed and tomorrow you’ll move onto some other girl. I really like you” she said, and before he could smirk in victory she added. “But why ruin the friendship we have for sex? Besides, one night stands aren’t my cup of tea.”
“Then let’s make it an every day thing” Ethan said.
“Nice try, Eth. We know you don’t do repeats” she stated.
“I could!” he argued. “And besides, I’m not asking for sex—I mean, at the end of the date, if you want to, I’m not gonna reject the offer—, I’m done with hook ups, I want something more.”
Y/N laughed “Okay, try it, but not with me. I’m sorry, Eth”
The girl stood up and made her way towards the exit of the rink, leaving a disappointed Ethan behind. She would lie if she said she didn’t want to try things with him, but the truth also was that she didn’t trust him when it came to relationships and she didn’t want to get her heart broken by him.
Chad got off the ice to find his best friend sitting on the bleachers, gaze fixed on the stairs, looking like a sad kicked puppy. It’s not a sight seen often, Ethan was usually an over-energetic puppy, always happy and with a smile on his face.
“Hey, man. What’s wrong?”
“Y/N rejected me.” Ethan played with his hockey stick, not wanting to meet his best friend’s eyes.
“I’ve never seen you like this after a rejection” Chad frowned.
“Well, not to brag, but it doesn’t usually happen.” he said, making Chad chuckle. “But it’s different this time. Y/N is not someone I want for one night, or for something casual. I want everything with her.”
“Wow” Chad took a breath, shocked by the confession. “And she said no?”
“She says she doesn’t want to ruin our friendship” Ethan said.
Chad scoffed “Why would that happen?”
“She doesn’t trust me and thinks I’m not boyfriend material. I really am serious about her, Chad. I swear. I would never hurt her. I wish she could read my mind”
“Don’t you dare give up, then. Words aren’t enough, show her you really like her”
“How?”
Chad smirked. “Grab a pen and a napkin, we are going to make a list so you can get the girl.”
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one: get her favourite coffee
ETHAN WOKE UP A BIT EARLIER THE FOLLOWING DAY TO GO TO Y/N’S FAVOURITE COFFEE SHOP AND GET HER ORDER. He convinced Tara to drag Y/N straight to class, not letting her get the coffee, and to text him once they were in the classroom. Once he got the text, Ethan entered the class, all eyes on him, and set the cup in front of Y/N with an adorable grin.
“Good morning. You look gorgeous as always” he kissed her cheek and simply left the room.
Y/N stared at the drink completely astonished, ignoring the glares coming from the female population and the smirk her best friend was giving her. There was something scribbled with black sharpie—it was simple, but it made her stomach combust. Have a great day, beautiful! Love, Ethan. And three hearts poorly made—which she thought was utterly adorable—next to his name.
“You got him in a leash” Tara laughed.
“Don’t be silly, we know what he wants” Y/N brushed it off.
“Come on, Ethan doesn’t do romantic stuff for anyone, not even to get laid.”
“It’s just one coffee, Tara. Let’s not be dramatic.”
But Tara knew, and Y/N too, that the little gesture was a lot when it came to Ethan Landry. Yet, a coffee cup wasn’t enough to gain the girl’s trust.
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two: show her you’re interested in her interests
WHAT IS THE THING Y/N ENJOYED THE MOST? EASY: BOOKS. Ethan knew exactly which one he should start with. In fact, he had bought it the first time Y/N mentioned it. He didn’t know what it was about, but he was sure it was a rom-com that referenced other rom-com movies.
“Ethan!” Chad said in a loud voice, startling his friend. Ethan looked up to find his best friend, Tara and Y/N staring at him. The latter had her mouth wide open.
“What?” he asked absentmindedly. He had been so immersed in the book he hadn’t heard them arrive.
“We called your name countless times, man.” Chad laughed.
“Sorry” Ethan closed the book and looked at Y/N. “Um, I may have a man-crush on Wes Bennett.”
Y/N chuckled, sitting in front of him and ignoring the way her heart was beating rapidly. She wanted to take a picture of Ethan with the book and set it as her lock screen “Welcome to the club.”
“I can’t stand it anymore, I need them to kiss. I need Wes to get the girl” he groaned.
A grin took over her features “Which part are you at?”
“They are going to hang out at Michael’s house” Ethan replied, which made her smile wider. “What’s that smile for? Oh god, what is going to happen?”
“I’m not going to spoil it! Just want to say… buckle up”
“You can’t say that! I can’t continue reading until tomorrow, I have a test!” Ethan panicked.
“Look at you, invested in a rom-com” Chad bumped his shoulder.
“I just wanted to see if it lived up to Y/N’s hype” Ethan said, making her turn into a blushing mess. “It does.”
“You aren’t even finished” Y/N rolled her eyes playfully. “Did you know there’s a sequel coming? And its playlist isn’t very optimistic”
“What?! You just ruined my day. I don’t want to read it anymore” he crossed his arms.
Wanting to mess with him, Tara grabbed the book. “So you wouldn’t mind if I-“ she stopped talking when the boy took the book from her hands.
“Yes, I would mind”
“Wait, are you annotating it?” Y/N said when she saw the colourful post-its.
“Yeah, it’s pretty fun. Anyways, I have to go to class, see you later at practice?”
“See you” Chad said. Before leaving, Ethan kissed Y/N’s forehead.
“What is going on with him?” Y/N asked.
“Showing you he’s serious about you. What are you waiting for, Y/N/N? I thought you liked him” Chad said.
“I do, a lot. But I’m not sure I’m really what he wants. What if he’s just interested because I’m the only girl who has rejected him? What if I finally say yes and then that interest is gone? How am I supposed to recover from that?”
“Y/N…”
“There’s nothing I’d like more than to call him mine, Chad. Trust me. But being just another girl on his list would kill me. I don’t want to lose him, okay? I don’t know if I’m willing to risk our friendship.”
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three: woo her with your hockey skills.
WHEN PRACTICE WAS OVER AND CHAD AND ETHAN DIDN’T LEAVE THE RINK, Y/N WAS CONFUSED. The boys skated towards the bleachers Tara and her were sitting in and smirked at them. Chad grabbed a bag from a corner and gave it to them.
“Put the skates on, ladies”
Y/N wanted to laugh when Ethan grabbed her hands and guided her around the ice, but she thought it was so cute that she didn’t have the heart to tell him she knew how to skate perfectly well.
“Okay, I think you’re ready to do it on your own, but go slowly” Ethan said as he finished explaining her how to slide in the ice.
“Losers don’t do it slowly, Landry.” Y/N scoffed.
“You will hurt yourself, Y/N/N. Don’t be stubborn, it’s dangerous.” Ethan sighed.
Y/N smirked “Oh yeah?” she skated flawlessly towards a corner, and came back with a winning smile. She even did a little spin to show off.
“H-how?” he asked breathlessly, frozen in place with a look of shock.
“Took skating classes when I was little” she explained.
“Why didn’t you tell me? I was blabbering instructions like a fool”
Y/N shrugged “I couldn’t, you looked so excited”
“You’re evil” he shook his head as he let out the cutest laugh Y/N had ever heard. God, her infuriation was just getting worse with every little action he did. She didn’t know how much longer she would be able to contain herself. She needed him to stop.
So her face turned serious “Ethan…”
Ethan fluttered his eyes close and then looked at her with pleading eyes. “Please don’t. I know what you’re going to say. Just hear me out. I know that my reputation is horrible, and I get why you don’t trust me. But I have never been more serious about something the way I am about you. I really wish I could erase every hook up, but I can’t and I don’t want my past to define my future. I know it’s hard to believe, but I haven’t been with anyone since I fell for you. I haven’t even thought about anyone else since I fell for you. I want to keep showing you how much I like you.”
Y/N was speechless. He had known Ethan long enough to know he was being serious and completely honest with his words. Maybe she had judged him too much, maybe he had truly changed. And now that she thought about it, she hadn’t seen him with a girl in ages. Maybe diving into a relationship wasn’t the safest option, but it was worth the try.
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four: get her flowers
DURING HER LUNCH BREAK, Y/N WAS SURPRISED BY THE HOCKEY PLAYER, who on one hand was holding red tulips and on the other one food. Like always, his presence brought attention and whispers, but none of them cared. Something had shifted between them since that afternoon at the rink, and they both could feel it.
“Thank you, Eth” she smiled gratefully. “You know, I had a feeling you would bring me lunch, so instead of bringing mine, I brought yours. I owe you flowers, though.”
“Thanks” he laughed. “Do you like them?”
“They are beautiful” she nodded, her cheeks the same colour as her flowers.
“When you get home, you should look for the meaning of red tulips” he winked.
For the rest of the day, Y/N had been in a haze. Every time Ethan crossed her mind, blush appeared on her cheeks and the corners of her mouth lifted up.
“My god, was I that annoying when Chad and I started talking?” Tara asked when they entered their dorm.
“Yes, you were, T.” Y/N chuckled, remembering her best friend’s love-sick smile every time Chad texted her. “You still are, by the way.”
“Anyways, I love seeing you like this. And I’m glad you’re willing to give Ethan a chance.”
“Me too. I’m not going to lie, I’m a bit scared that he’ll get bored of me, but I’m really determined to risk it.”
“He’s not going to get bored of you, Y/N/N. He doesn’t like you because he’s into the whole ‘Only girl who had ever rejected him’ thing. He’s into you because you don’t see him only as a hot hockey player, but you also see how sweet and caring he is. You’re not interested in using him to become popular, you see that he is much more than his popularity. And that is why he likes you.”
“Well, shit. Now I feel bad for rejecting him multiple times.” Y/N slumped to the couch.
Tara laughed “Don’t. It’s understandable why you were cautious with your feelings. He knows that he isn’t a saint. By the way, did you know that Chad and him made this list with things to do to win you over?”
“Really?” Y/N laughed. “That makes sense, he’s being really sweet this week. Well, more than usual, because he’s always super sweet.”
“I found it on their fridge, they are so silly. It’s called ‘Ethan and Chad’s infallible list on how to get the girl’. I took a picture���
Y/N took Tara’s phone and laughed at the list. There were a couple of items crossed out and with a tick, and the one that said ‘Woo her with your hockey skills’ had a little note to the side that said ‘Backfired. My girl is a skating genius, made me look like a fool’, which made her laugh. Then, on the ‘Give her flowers’ there was an explanation note that said ‘My pick: red tulips. Means declaration of love’.
“Fucking hell, he’s so… ugh! I really want to kiss him”
“Lucky for you, that’s item six” Tara said over her shoulder.
“The thought of them brainstorming and writing this down is adorable” Y/N laughed.
“It really is” Tara nodded. “You should wear Ethan’s jersey to the game tomorrow. You don’t know how many times he told us he has dreamt about it.”
Y/N smiled, her heart fluttering. Ethan had shown her how much he liked her, and she thought it was time to show him how much she liked him. “You know? That’s an excellent idea.”
[💖]
five: publicly state you’re only into her.
ETHAN KNEW THE BEST TIME TO EXECUTE ITEM FIVE WOULD BE THE NIGHT OF THE GAME. The ideal scenario would be to get that puck on the net and dedicate it to Y/N, and if he wasn’t that lucky, he would settle with blowing kisses and winks at her. Though when he went out on the ice rink and he caught sight of her, his mind went blank, his body stopped working for a couple of seconds and if it weren’t for Chad steadying him, he would’ve collapsed to the ice.
He quickly skated towards her seat, which was in the first row, right behind the glass. “Beautiful, you can’t just come here in my jersey without any warnings. You want me to have a heart attack?”
A sweet laugh bursted out of her “Sorry. Red tulips are your way of declaring your love, I thought wearing your jersey could be mine.”
Ethan’s breath hitched “Um, I’m about to jump up this glass so that I can kiss you.”
The girl shook her head and laughed “After the game, pretty boy. If you win, you might get an extra reward.”
And hell if those words didn’t encourage Ethan to play his best. The game was brutal, both teams were acing it and the match was about to end in a tie, until Ethan scored the winning goal a few seconds before time was over. The Blackmore bleachers erupted in screams of triumph, and the players united for a group hug.
Tara and Y/N instantly went looking for their boys. The last one scowled as she saw a puck bunny making sexy eyes at Ethan and she clung to his arm. The boy couldn’t have looked more uncomfortable, he pulled his arm away, only for the girl to find another way of touching him.
“You have been acting so hard to get lately. Don’t you think a winner deserves a kiss?” Y/N heard the girl say.
“You’re absolutely right. Now, back away so I can kiss the hell out of him.” Y/N said, throwing daggers at the girl, who looked at her in a mix of surprise and annoyance. “And can’t you get a hint? He’s uncomfortable.”
Ethan gaped at her. She had never looked so hot—standing there with his number on the back of the jersey that fitted her like a dress, knee-length boots that weirdly turned him on, and with a scowl on her face as she got all territorial on him.
“And who are you?” the puck bunny scanned her up and down with a frown.
“His girlfriend. Now, can you leave? I have to congratulate my man” she said harshly. As soon as she said that, Ethan was sure he was about to drop onto his knees and let her do whatever she wanted to him.
“Girlfriend?” Ethan smirked as the puck bunny left. “I like the sound of that.”
“Good” Y/N smirked back, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Now, are you ready to cross out items five and six? You know, one bird two stones.”
“Hell yes”
Their lips moved hungrily, and the kiss was way too heated and inappropriate considering their surroundings. But they couldn’t stop it, their desire was diesel and they had been playing with fire for months.
“I promised you a reward if you won, right?” Y/N said against his lips.
“Isn’t this the reward? This is more than I could’ve asked for. You, finally being my girlfriend and kissing me while wearing my jersey.” his eyes were dark and lips swollen. His beauty was out of this world.
“You scored the winning goal, babe. You deserve a special reward” she licked her lips. “Let’s go to your car.”
He nodded eagerly, and as they reached the car, he dared to ask “What do you have in mind?”
She opened the back door. “One kiss isn’t enough. How much time do you have until you have to go to the bar with the guys?”
“What guys? What bar? I don’t know what you’re talking about.” he acted clueless and she let out a giggle. “In fifteen, but they’ll survive if I arrive a bit late. I want to be with my girl for a while.”
“Okay, then get in the car so we can make out.” Y/N bursted out laughing as Ethan carelessly threw himself on the backseat of his car. “You need to learn about the art of subtlety, Eth.”
“Oh that’s rich coming from the girl who attacked me in the middle of the arena.” he said grabbing her waist to guide her to his lap.
“Attack you? That’s not what I did” she scoffed.
“Yes you did. You attacked me with a kiss and then you led me to my car to corrupt me” Ethan said in a fake innocent tone.
“Corrupting the former man-whore?” Y/N arched an eyebrow.
Ethan’s eyes darkened “You’re right. Maybe I am the one corrupting you. I mean, you couldn’t even wait for us to get home to attack me again?”
“You’re insufferable. You’re so lucky you’re hot.”
“I am hot?”
Y/N nodded, looking at him. His muscled arms were spread on the top of the seats, grin plastered on his face and cheeks still rosy from the cold temperature of the arena.
“The hottest. And the best thing? That you’re mine.”
“Just yours, love.” he smiled sweetly, resting his forehead on hers.
“That list of yours is pretty… infallible, right?” Y/N joked.
“I can’t believe you know about the list” Ethan hid his face on her neck.
“You sticked it on the fridge and Tara took a picture” Y/N replied.
“Fucking Chad” Ethan groaned. “So, what do you think?”
“Well, it worked, right? You got the girl.”
“Yes, I did” he smiled hugging her tightly. “Should I do one on how to keep the girl?”
Y/N laughed “I don’t think you need that. Rumour has it, she’s totally in love with you.”
“Oh yeah? Lucky me, because I’m totally in love with her too.”
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lovifie · 3 months
Text
Hormones Pt.3
Back to Masterlist - Taglist Form
Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3
(little note at the end that if you read I'll really love you)
“What?!”
“It's me, can I come in, love?”
“What do you want, Ghost?” You ask with your face buried on the pillow.
The door opens, just long enough for him to enter and then he closes it behind him, locking it. You turn your head, a questioning look on your face, and he raises his hands to prove innocence.
“It's just to keep Johnny away.” He says, sitting down on the bed behind you and pulling your legs over his lap. “I wanted to apologise”
That gets you interested, because the man may be many things, but he is prideful and doesn't apologise too often.
“Why?” You ask, propping yourself up on your elbows and looking back at him.
“For being an asshole, and talking to you as badly as I did.” He admits, his warm hand engulfing your calf caressing it with his thumb. “It had never happened to me before, you know? Not being able to say what I meant to say, and just saying something stupid instead.”
You think for a moment, about risking it with a stupid question, but it's not like you have anything to lose and your brain is still too focused on thinking about his crotch before he covered with the pillow.
“It sounds like you have a crush on my, Ghost.” You try softly, looking at his eyes.
“Feels like it, too.” He says without breaking the eye contact. You are a bit surprised by his straightforward approach, not hiding behind words.
His hand travels up your thigh when you turn around, sitting up to face him; legs still over his lap and his hand on the side of your leg. You look up to him, waiting for him to say that he is joking; but he doesn't.
Still, inside of your head, there is this voice that reminds you that this is the same person who has treated you like garbage, that he is your superior and that until mere minutes ago he has never shown any kind of interest in you. 
It is a nice thing your brain tells you these things, but it's not like you are going to take them into account; not when you can feel the heat radiating from Ghost’s boner against your leg, feeling it twitch when he sees you looking at it.
“I saw the way you were looking at me this morning, love.” He says, making you peel your eyes away from his crotch and up to his eyes, your cheeks burning with embarrassment. “It is not nice for a soldier to have her mind occupied with thoughts when they are working, you know?”
“Is it not?” You ask, clearly reading his intentions, moving to sit yourself on top of his lap. 
“Yeah… thinking about fucking your CO, sergeant.” He says, griping your hips and starting to grind you against his crotch, slowly and without real strength, letting you get away if you would want. You don’t. “I could get you in trouble, you know?”
“I don't want to get in trouble.” You mutter, unable to speak more loudly, as you feel his hardening dick rub against you, annoyed with the clothes in between. 
“Of course you don't, you are a good girl, right?” He asks lifting his mask, up to his nose so his mouth is exposed. You lean in, suddenly desperate to kiss him, only for his hand to grab your jaw forcing you to look up as his mouth finds its way to your neck. “Speak up, sergeant.”
You struggle to do so when he starts to kiss your neck, feeling like lava dripping down your skin with how hot his breath is. “Yes, sir.” You respond breathlessly, feeling him smile against your skin satisfied with your answer.
“Are you going to be a good girl for your lieutenant and let me have a taste, love?” He whispers against your neck, making you whine as an answer, earning yourself a hard slap on your asscheek. “I don't like to repeat myself, sergeant. Speak up when I ask you something.”
“Yes, sir.” You respond quickly, still whining, too turned on to bother about embarrassment, you’ll care about that tomorrow morning.
Ghost takes the hem of your shirt, pulling it up your head in a smooth motion; he doesn't bother to take off your bra, simply slips your arms out of it and pushes it down which pushes your boobs up and out just for him. He doesn’t waste time before biting the side of your boob, making you groan at the sting before he licks over it. 
You move your hand up to the back of his head, wrong move because he quickly grabs both your arms moving them behind your back holding them in place and causing you to arch your back, pushing your chest more against his face. He hums satisfied with the outcome and starts to suck your nipples into his mouth nibbling on it softly. 
You moan pulling your head back, letting him guide your hips with his other hand; helping you grind against his growing erection. Ghost’s mouth travels from one boob to the other, leaving a wet trail of spit in the process across your chest.
There is hunger in the way he keeps eating you, you can feel him bite down on the skin of your chest; most of them are soft just satisfying the need to feel you, but there are a couple of them that you are sure will leave a mark on your skin. Not that you mind, with the way you can feel your hips stutter each time he does it, clenching around nothing and making you grow desperate for more.
“Ghost… please” You moan, looking down at him and you see his pupils dilate when he makes eye contact with you. Something about the image of you looking down at him, while he feels you in his mouth truly makes him lose the little bit of restraint he had. 
He let go of your arms, moving instead to undo your belt and your trousers. He moves his face up to your neck again, before he whispers urging you to take off your trousers. “I want you to sit on my face, love. I want to feel you suffocate me. Fuck my face, please sweet girl.” He groans, grinding up hard against your cunt making you moan, just for him to lift you up enough to pull your trousers down, getting stuck on your ankles because of your shoes. 
He smirks, an idea crossing his mind and he looks at you with mischievousness that makes you shudder. He notices you try to undo your laces to take off your shoe and he quickly slaps your hand making you look at him with a confused expression. He moves so he can lay down on your bed and pulls you with him; you try to complain that you need to take off your trousers or you will choke him and it is then that you realize his plan. 
With you kneeling over his face, he raises his head and lays it back over your scrunched-up trousers on your ankles. His weight causes your ankles to pull closer together, which makes your knees pull apart and your hips to go lower. You realize then that you are stuck, unable to move your legs apart or your hips up without falling back. 
Ghost smiles when he notices you realize and pulls his hands up to rip apart your panties making you gasp at the sudden movement, feeling lightheaded with the way he rips the fabric as if it was a piece of paper. 
He doesn't let you complain any further, too desperate to launch himself at your glistering cunt. He groans at the same time you moan when he finally gets a taste of your arousal on his tongue, automatically getting addicted to your taste only urging him to eat you harder.
His hand grab your thigh at each side of his head as if you could actually move away from his face. You grab the headboard, needing to grab something for some kind of support. He has barely started to move his tongue and your legs are already shaking with the desperate way he is eating you out. 
You feel his tongue move flat from your leaking hole up to clit, the tip of his tongue catching on your hood and giving it a flick which makes your legs twitch against his head making him groan satisfied with your reaction only for him to repeat the movement again and again. 
Ghost starts to get too pussy drunk to really think about what he is doing, only caring about the taste of your fluids in contrast with the taste of your skin; and it makes you grow frustrated with the lack of attention where you really want it. This makes you need to take matters into your own hands, and you move your hand down to grab his mask hard enough that you know you are grabbing his hair under it as well. 
He looks up to you, offended you would dare to bother him when he is having the feast of his life; but the look on your face quickly shuts him up before he can say anything. “I thought you wanted me to fuck your face, sir. Stick your tongue out.” Your order, his dick twitches behind you at the dictational tone and he immediately follows your order. 
You grin down at him, satisfied with the way his body betrays him; and you grab his mask and hair harder pushing his head slightly back before you grin down on his mouth moaning throwing your head back.
You move back and forward, delighted with the way his nose catches your clit with each thrust and the way his tongue twitches with each grunt and moan that exits his throat. You turn your head to look at his crotch and chuckle when you see the way his boner is being constricted with his trousers. 
You pity him and undo his belt, getting your hand inside his trousers and grabbing his cock with only the fabric of his boxers in between his and your skin, the wet spot of precum doesn't go unnoticed. “Are you going to fuck me nicely with this, Ghostie?”
You feel him nod against your fold which makes you moan softly, but you want to give him a taste of his game and you grab hard his dick. “Speak up, leiutenant.”
He whines against your cunt, and you already know how the rest of the night is about to go. “Yes, fuck, yes, love. I’m going to fuck you so fucking nice you are not going to want to be with anyone else. I promise, love.” 
You chuckle at the desperation of his voice, and go back to grinding his face leaving his dick unnatended and leaking precum, making the wet spot on his underwear only grow wider. You grab his hand from your leg and move it behind you, sticking two fingers up and sinking yourself on them. 
Ghost feels like a human dildo with the way you are fucking his hand and mouth with no remorse for his needs, and he fucking loves it. The only thing keeping him from wishing you would last forever being the feeling of his dick about to burst. 
You keep a hand on his head, your other hand moving to grab his wrist to keep his hand just where you need it. And it doesn't take you long to cum all over his mouth, clenching tight on his fingers. He moans, almost as if he was the one who just finished, and you look down on him; the sight criminal.
You push yourself up, leaning forward, and taking his fingers out of your cunt; your arousal still dripping from them. He slips from under you, sitting on the floor and looking back at you as you finally take off your shoes and the rest of your clothes. Once naked and sitting on the bed you look at him, chuckling softly as you extend your hand to him. “Give me your belt, Ghost.”
He frowns for a second, but obeys, taking it off from the belt loops of his trousers. You take it from his hand and get closer to him putting it around his neck, buckling it at the front. You are not sure of the safety of the make-do collar, and the only reason why you do it is because the man kneeling in front of you could rip it to threads without breaking a sweat; the belt only works as a physical form of the psychological effect you have found to have over Ghost.
You lay your feet over his crotch, making him grunt when you press down; he grabs your leg unconsciously grinding against your feet making you smile. “Tell me, Ghostie. Are you going to fuck me nicely or am I going to do all the work again?” You ask, you know it is not fair, you were the one that chose to do all the work of fucking his face. Still, the way he whines when he feels the ball of your feet press harder makes it worth it. “Yes! Yes, I will. I’ll fuck you nicely, love. I will.” He moans making you groan, going on a little power trip yourself. 
You let the belt rest down his chest, taking notice just now that he is still completely naked; just his belt out of place and it only turns you on more. You turn around, getting on your knees and hands, and raise one of your hands back to him. 
He takes your hand in his, making you frown and slap his hand away. “The belt, Ghost.” He looks down when he sees you pointing at his chest as if he just realised you had collared him. He leans forward, letting the end on the belt on your hand; you twist it around your wrist tugging at it and making him lean more, kneeling behind you on the bed. His hips collide with yours making the two of you moan softly and you look at him only to whisper. “Take your dick out and fuck me until I forgive you for being such an asshole to me, lieutenant.” 
“Yes, my love” He whispers back, pulling down his trousers and underwear, only to take his thick veiny dick out, so heavy it can’t stand up; forcing him to fist it to align it with your cunt. When his tip catches with your hole, his hips pushing it the slightest, you lay your head on the mattress, arching your back and tugging the belt over your head to urge him forward getting deeper.
Ghost grunts on your ear as he does, pushing his hips forward slowly, stretching you slowly; his two fingers that you previously fucked being far from enough to stretch your cunt to the girth of his dick. 
It leaves you with your mouth open, the air of your lungs being pushed out of you as you feel his dick up to your stomach when he finally bottoms out. The two of you stay still for a second, you needing it to get used to the stretch and Ghost needing it to not cum at the feeling of your wet, warm pussy clenching on him like a vice.
He peppers your shoulder and the back of your head between moans, asking for some kind of feedback to know he can keep moving; wanting to let you get used but desperate to keep moving. You give him a slight tug of the belt, already lacking strength and moan through gritted teeth when you feel him pull back slowly and shove it back inside just as slowly.
His arms go around your middle, hugging you from the back, the weight of him on your back pushing your face harder against the mattress but loving the crushing weight of his body against you as he starts to pick up his pace. The way his dick keeps hitting against your cervix should be painful if it wasn't because of the way he keeps rubbing that spot inside of your cunt that makes your eyes roll back.
You feel him plant his feet down on the mattress, pulling his chest back; the belt slipping out of your hand feeling too limp to grab it harder. It gives Ghost the room to stand behind you, grabbing your hips to anchor himself to you, and the moment he starts to actually thrust into you, you know you are done for. He quickly finds your soft spot, hitting it not stop with the tip of his dick making your toes curl and his heavy balls begging for a release hitting your clit with each thrust. 
Your second orgasm of the night feels like hanging from a rope and it suddenly snapping, you moan his name like a whore, your cunt clenching down so hard it pushes him out as you gush over his lap. Your hips convulsing, unable to remain still because of the force of the orgasm.
Simon groans pulling back to see your pussy clench around nothing as you cum, not able to say anything with the way all his blood is on his dick, his brain unable to form a whole thought further away than to get back inside your warm cavern.
He turns you around, leaving you lying on your back as you look at him astonished. He grabs your ankles, pushing them down beside your head bending you in half at the same time he gets his dick back inside of you moaning and making you whine at the new angle he is hitting. 
“Grab the belt, love.” He reminds you, to fuck out to feel cocky about you forgetting it. You quickly grab the belt hanging loosely around his neck, giving it a tug pushing him forward and kissing him messily. Your first kiss with Ghost and you have already come twice and are close to a third time. 
Ghost moans against your mouth, teeth clashing against each other with the force he leans forward. You struggle to keep kissing him with the way he is fucking you, thrusting like an animal, hitting deeper than anybody else ever has, clutching the belt more for your own support than to tug at him. 
You tug it down, making him push his face against your neck and leaving your ankles resting over his broad shoulders. You feel him suck the skin of your neck, knowing perfectly fine that he is going to leave a mark and it only fuels you to scratch at his back, making sure you leave the same marks back. 
His thrust starts to grow sloppier and his moans whinier. You pull your hand down, touching your clit to cum before he finishes it, and he takes it like an insult that gives him a new run of energy, enough to start to thrust hard and deep again, his thumb replacing your hand in playing with your clit. 
You throw your head back when you finish for a third time in the time and Ghost bites down on your leg on his shoulder, moaning against it when he finally spills over inside of you making you shudder. 
The two of you stay still for a minute, getting your breath back from the strain. Your legs start to cramp and you lightly tap his shoulder for him to get up. He does, groaning when he pulls out and after another second he goes to the bathroom. He comes back with a damp towel to clean you up quickly and throws it on the floor, lying down and pulling you against his chest as he does.
“Lovie?”
“Hm?”
“If this is the outcome of being a dickhead to you… I take back the apology.”
You slap his chest chuckling. You'll think about the feelings and emotional part of today's acts tomorrow, right now, you are too exhausted to think. And Ghost agrees, because before you can even fall asleep you hear him softly snore beside you, hugging you tightly as he sleeps.
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The next morning, when the whole team is having breakfast, there is this awkward silence around everyone. Everybody knows Ghost and you fucked last night, both because your room is between Price's and Soap's but also because of the love bites on your neck and belt mark on his.
Fraternization is not something the military looks forward to, but the both of you are adults and you are not technically a member of the team. So Price can't say anything about it. Soap, on the other hand, always has something to say.
“So… I didn't know you had condoms on your room, bonnie. I would have stolen some if I knew you did.”
“I don't have condoms in my room, Soap.” You sigh.
“So, the Lt came prepared yesterday to my room. That's positivity, sir.” He jokes.
“Johnny, cut it out.” Ghost simply says.
Soap looks between the two of you before a grin appears on his face. 
“Wait… wait, wait, wait. You didn't hit it raw, right?” Gaz asks, and when neither of you responds he knows; laughing harder.
“So you are telling me, that you did it raw, with you ovulating and with you being pent up for the last month.” Soap asks, laughing as he does.
You look up at Ghost, reality sinking in and blaming your fucking hormonal brain too horny to think about the most basic stuff.
“That's fine, guys. I always wanted a nephew… or a niece.”
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And with this, ladies and gentlemen, we come to an end. 💗
I guess we could call it a mini-series, but honestly just because I uploaded it in different parts, I'll probably uploaded to AO3 as a single part if you prefer to read it like that. On my masterlist is the link to my AO3, but you can find me as Lovifie.
I hope you enjoyed a bit more subby Ghostie, and that it wasn't a jump scare.
And to the person who sent me an ask, I'm working on it and I'll upload it soon. 💗
As always, I hope that you guys enjoyed if you did make sure to drop a comment or a message as I love to read you guys. 💗
Also, I may have written a bit something of Dark Gaz this morning, like, quite an asshole, manipulative, selfish Gaz. Let me know if you'll like to read it. 🩷
Taglist: @loveableidioticweirdo @restrictionsapply @cursedforlife @shadowtfpcod @pagesfalling @aelnpruz @dumb12bvtch1212 @risingofjupiter @dukeofjjune @imjustheretofightforlove @becky2021 @whos-fran @thevoidwriting @sklt987659 @kayden666 @thatonepupkai @glocuseguardian3rd @soupinasock @arbesa-mind @dilara-del @multifandomheathenannie @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago @lunari0 @cmbghost @spadekip
807 notes · View notes
berzahoes · 6 months
Text
when you know you know | tom blyth
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summary: the idiots finally meet (nepo baby!reader)
an: i can always count on reddit for inspiration bc i rewrote this a bunch of times 😭 also these are just random names for the friends lol @astheni-a
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“don’t look now, but the guy behind you is staring.” your friend, meg, whispered to you. you and a couple of your girlfriends were seated in the food court of the mall. after a while, meg noticed that a group of guys sat a few tables away, one of them occasionally glanced at you.
“he’s cute,” your other friend, layne, joined in.
your other friend beside you, louise, smirked at you. “someone’s got a crush. think about it, we can all go on dates together if he asks you out.”
you rolled your eyes. “i don’t even know what he looks like. meg told me not to look.”
“he has brown hair, probably six feet and really pretty eyes. i think that’s all you need to know about your future man.” meg said.
“you just described almost every boy here,” you replied. you looked down at your drink and noticed it was almost empty so you gathered your trash and decided to go throw it away. “i like being single anyways. i have more me time.”
“babe, we know you don’t like it. just talk to lover boy over there and if you don’t like him then that’s that. we won’t push you to talk to any one else ever again.” layne said.
“just this one time.” you sighed. secretly, you did want someone to love. you never had an official boyfriend. during high school, you were talking with a guy from math class, but you quickly found out he just wanted to meet your famous dad. after that, you had difficulty knowing what relationship and friendships were real.
you stood up with your empty drink cup and walked to the nearest trash can. after throwing your trash away, you tried to look over your shoulder to see what boy meg had been taking about, but you couldn’t figure out who it was. brown hair, pretty eyes, tall . . . that could be anyone.
you sighed and decided to just turn around and look instead of looking like a creep, but just as you turned around, a guy had walked right in front of you almost causing his drink to spill.
“oh my god, i’m so sorry.” you immediately apologize.
“it’s okay, um are you . . . okay?” he asked shyly.
“yeah, I’m good. i’m sorry again. i . . yeah sorry.” you kept repeating as you looked at his eyes. they were a beautiful blue color. you were a sucker for colored eyes. well the british accent was a bonus too.
“i’m tom.” he introduced himself.
“i’m yn. nice to meet you. sorry for almost making you drop your drink. sorry, i apologize too much. it’s a habit.” you chuckled nervously.
get it together, yn
“no, it’s fine, wasn’t really drinking it anyways. so . . are you here alone?” he asked, but regretted it immediately when he noticed it might’ve sounded creepy.
“no, i’m with my friends. i’m sorry, again, i noticed the accent, you’re british. are you visiting good ol’ new york?” you questioned.
“studying here actually. i go to juilliard. what about you?”
“i’m actually from los angeles but i visit here quite often. it’s my second home. but i do travel a lot so i call multiple places my second home. sorry if i ramble, i do that when i start getting comfortable.”
from the table, your friends saw how you talked with a stranger.
“does anyone know how to lip read?”
“shhh! shut up layne!”
“who’s gonna tell her that’s not the guy we were talking about?”
“i don’t want to break her heart. plus he does look exactly like how meg described so a win is a win.”
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mrsparrasblog · 21 days
Text
You're Losing Me Pt.3 POLY 141 x Reader
TW: angst, mentioned rape, mentioned drug abuse, violence, alcoholism, crying, manipulation
prev part first part. next part
Wrapped around with a blanket, you lay on the couch singing all the breakup songs you know, pathetically. You didn't talk to your friends, called in sick at work, and haven't left the apartment since it happened. The only thing you had was Winston, the Taylor Swift vinyl on repeat that Johnny gifted you, and a cheap red wine that tasted like ass. You ordered some pizza so that something else keeps you company. When the bell rang, you didn't bother to put on a nice outfit. You went out with your tangled hair, your puffy swollen eyes, and Simon's ratty t-shirt that you couldn’t bother to throw away; it just smelled like comfort to you.
You were surprised when you saw, instead of the delivery guy, Kyle in front of your house. He looked so unlike Kyle. He didn't have that cheeky smile you loved, and his clean pretty boy aesthetic was gone. His white shirt was full of blood, his jaw bruised, and your heart broke. That was your man - was.
"Do you want to collect your stuff?" You asked, it hurt you so bad to ask, but you needed to be strong. You didn't want to be like your mom who stayed with your Dad despite how often he cheated on her. You were strong and independent before you met them, you can reach this again.
"Babe, please."
"Don't do this to me, Kyle," don't make me love you, don’t make me forgive you.
"Can I see at least Winston?" He asked, and that was a thing you couldn't deny. It was his dog too after all. You remembered how you rescued him together from a dog shelter. Everyone else would have said no, but Kyle loved animals just as much as you do. So you adopted that corgi, and you can regret many things but not your loyal dog.
"Come in," you said, not bothering to apologize for the mess.
When Winston saw him, he jumped immediately on Kyle, and this made you smile for the first time in days. "What happened to your face?"
"Got in some fights around the base."
"Kyle, you never get into fights with coworkers. Look, just because we're not a thing anymore doesn’t mean you need to sabotage your own life. Things like breakups happen, and I'm sure you will find a lovely girl." Your heart ached just thinking about them with another girl, all sharing and loving how they loved you.
"Don't want anyone else."
"Kyle."
"I mean it, I love you, and not just a bit. I know you're the right one. Tell me what you want, and I'll do it. Want me to quit the military? Easy. Want to punish me? Hurt me? I don’t care. Want to never touch me again? Fine, I'll live my life without sex just to have you. Want me to marry you? Done. Why wait? Do you want me to kill that slag? I'll do it. You don’t understand it; there is no such thing as too much for you. There isn’t a thing I wouldn’t do for you."
You were too stunned to speak, but by the look in his eyes, you knew he meant every word of it. He really loved you. But how could you trust him again? And John, you knew Kyle loved John, maybe not as much as you, but you were no one to separate them. That wasn’t fair.
"Let me clean the blood from your nose, Kyle." You stood up, ignoring the things he said, and went to the bathroom, grabbing alcohol and one of Kyle's spare t-shirts, inhaling the scent as you sobbed into it.
"Love—"
"Let me clean you."
He picked you up, sitting you down at the sink, where you slowly cleaned his wounds. Your breath felt heavy every second you got near his lips.
"Tell me you don't love me, and I'll never bother you again."
"Kyle, I can't lie to you."
You cleaned him and gave him his new shirt, but you couldn’t let him leave.
"Kyle, I love you, but I love all of you so much that I can't let you choose between me and John. You love him, I know that, and it's okay. I understand."
"John didn’t cheat on you; it was Johnny."
"Don't lie to me."
"I'd never lie to you. He just knew we couldn’t live without you, and you know how selfless he is."
"I thought he cheated." You started to sob again. "I screamed at him, told him how much I hate him, and he wasn’t at fault." You felt like a monster for your feelings.
"He understands."
"How does he hold up?" You knew John was never someone who shared your feelings.
"Locked himself in the office, drinking for days, doesn’t even speak with me."
"Let me fix this."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
John thought he was hallucinating when you went into his office with the spare key you had. It was too good to be true to see his angel again, but you weren’t real. He needed to stop drinking.
"I'm so sorry, John," you said over and over again, walking towards him, where you sat in your reserved place, on his lap, and slowly removing the glass out of his help. "I'm sorry, John. I don’t hate you, I’d never hate you."
"Cheated on you, deserve it."
"I know it was Johnny."
"Lie."
"Kyle told me."
"Oh."
"Can you forgive me, John?"
"Of course, lovely," he laled and smiled.
"Let me get you in your room, okay, and sober you up." He nodded, and you brought him to his room. You still weren’t sure what to do. Will you forgive them? Will you forgive Johnny?
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Lea mah room, slag," Johnny screamed at the medic. He had enough of her and her manipulative acts, how she went into his room and touched him in training. It was enough.
"Don't be so harsh; I'm your girlfriend, after all," she smiled. She was sick fucking delusional.
"Youre nae mah burd ah tellt ye this often enough," he pressed his hands together, his knuckles white from rage. If he was a worse man, he’d kill her on the spot. But he needed her to make a mistake, so there would be proof of her lying.
"Not so aggressive, Johnny, this isn’t good for our baby."
"Are you mental? There is no fucking baby. You raped me three days ago. Aren’t you supposed to be a medic and know how this shit works?"
"There will be, and then we'll be happy."
"You're sick. This will never happen."
"Oh, there will, or you know I could tell anyone how you raped me and dared to kill me after your girlfriend found out."
"No one will believe you."
"They will."
And there was a knock on the door. He left her in the room, telling her it was probably only a rookie. He was surprised when he saw you. Even though you looked broken, you were still the most precious thing in his life. He wanted to hug you, tell you the truth.
"I know it was you, Johnny," you started to cry you never thought Johnny would do such a thing to you."
"Hen, please."
You hugged him tight, which caught him by surprise, but he held you through it. "Tell me why, Johnny. Please, let me know what I did to deserve this." His heart broke with every word you said. He desperately wanted to explain to you that you could never do anything wrong in his life, but the shame ate him up. Would you understand? Would you believe him?
"Tell me you won't do it again, Johnny. Tell me you regret it, that it didn't mean a thing. I'll forgive you, please, Johnny."
"Look, hen—" But before he could finish his sentence, the medic left the room wearing only one of his shirts.
"What are you doing here? I thought you’d broken up with that bore."
You noticed the shirt, the ruffled hair, and the bracelet you gifted Johnny that she wore. "Johnny, why is she wearing your shirt? Why does she have my bracelet?"
"Love, don't believe—"
"Oh, you're not only a bore, you're also dense, aren't you?"
That was enough to finally break you. You walked away, screaming at Johnny that he should leave you alone, running into Simon on your way out.
"Luv?"
"Stay away from me, Si," and he respected your wish, giving you the time to heal you need. He finally found Johnny in a screaming match with the medic. When she saw him, she gave Johnny a peck on his cheek and left with a sly smile.
Johnny was never a man to cry until that day. He didn't know how his life went so downhill in a few days.
"Johnny?"
"Go away, Lt."
"Johnny, tell me what's wrong."
"You wouldn't believe me. No one would."
"Let me decide that. Let's get you in your room and talk." His heart broke seeing Johnny like that, and he knew whatever it was, he would fix it for him.
549 notes · View notes
shadesoflsk · 5 months
Text
RETROSPECTION & OUTCOME
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pairing: leon kennedy x afab reader.
summary: The journey of healing is not an easy one. Obstacles and doubts filled the path Leon decided to take. However, the agent had planted the seed of self improvement and with your help, a strong and resilent tree will grow.
warnings: strangers to friends to lovers, mentions of reader being a nurse, age gap (reader is 25+) angst, hurt/comfort, descriptions of gore, blood and violence, no alcohol consumption but Leon attempts to, Leon's inner thoughts, self doubts, lack of self confidence (from Leon's part) mild mentions of religion trauma, smut, handjob, Leon cries during it, kind of switch Leon, needy Leon (give him a hug please) p in v, creampie, fluffy at the end (yipeee)
word count: 14k
author's note: helloooo :] This is my first try at writing a long fic, I had so much fun writing it. It all started as a character study for Leon and then it ended up as... this lmao. For the first chapters, I had vendetta Leon in mind and at the last one we finally have DI Leon! Please... if you see any mistakes no you don't. Anyway love you guys hope you like this as much as I do.
— masterlist
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I. ETERNAL DAMNATION.
His cold blue eyes are a pool of misery and misfortune. The dreadful gaze of an individual who once was and continues to be subject to the violent reality of what a government can do.
He remains stoic to whatever adversity he has to face, one look at him and you would believe this man has no feelings whatsoever. He kills, he gets paid, repeat. A never-ending loop in which many would believe Leon finds pleasure. Especially since he carries himself as the Government Golden Boy aka best weapon. To use and to dispose of, Leon S. Kennedy.
Shoulder pats and praise words stir up a pot filled with anger and hatred — emotions that Leon doesn't often feel with others, just with himself.— He tries not to dwell on them, but it gets so difficult and challenging whenever he hears that his own achievements are cause for celebration. Do these assholes know how many people, infected people, he had to kill in order to bring peace? No, they don’t. Unbeknownst to them, those people could have been saved.
At least in Leon’s mind. 
The suited men surround him. Privilege and smugness are qualities that Leon would often use to describe what those who hire his service are. Those congratulations and fake praises ring in Leon’s mind as he keeps thinking about the people he had to betray and kill for the ‘sake’ of his country, for his nation, and for the ego of his president. 
But he takes the compliments, like a good boy. The president believes he hit the jackpot with a rightful agent who is proud of his country. God Bless America and in God we trust, he says as his hand reaches for Leon’s. The blue-eyed agent hesitates each time, out of fear of tainting his oh-so-dear boss’ white shirt. Because nobody cared enough to spare him new clothes and a wet towel to clean himself. A trophy to show the world what a powerful human weapon they had. Rough, tall, and with calloused hands, hands of a killer. 
Leon S. Kennedy is proof of what the cruelty of a government can do. He is no longer a human, but the shell of a man. His name is printed in many documents which shows the gruesome acts he had to endure, in the name of the country. “Agent Leon S. Kennedy had successfully retrieved a sample of the virus.” “Condor One saved Baby Eagle.” He has received a plethora of names yet none of them really encapsulated who he was.
They have shown that they do not care about their citizens, like at all. Raccoon City was a prime example of that. He sounds like a broken record, the memory replaying in his memory every mission he gets assigned. But, for him, it was his first-hand experience with how cruel and gruesome reality could be.
Tough call, they say. We did what we could, they added. Leon knows all of those phrases by heart now. His gentle nature remains in him, even though it was covered by layers of a rough past and self-taught distrust. But even now, at his grown age, he fully believes they could have done so much more.
His mind is all over the place whenever he comes back from a mission. The usual white and never-changing walls surround everyone at the gathering that the president holds each time Leon ‘succeeds’ in a mission. His fingers seek any type of comfort, they twitch, they pinch his own clothes but nothing works. 
People notice, they do. It’s obvious that the spotlight is on him yet he never embraces it. Simple nods and awkward smiles are his way to go and signature gestures. Deep inside, he knows those white-collared dicks spare him weird and pitiful glances every chance they get.
His chest burns with a desire for solidarity and altruism. He feels a lot and feels everything too deep for his own liking. His core dances between his hatred for heroism and the need to be a hero. He doesn’t believe he’s one. Throughout his life he has contemplated who he is and the type of man he has grown to be. His mind is a living hell and he’s the demon incarnated.
He wonders when it all started. Maybe he was doomed for the start, as he stood in front of his parents’ grave asking God why. 
Deuteronomy 31:8; “The Lord himself goes before you and will be with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged.” The catholic father who used to hold the mass every Sunday said one morning. Now, did God forget about him? He should have prayed harder, to escape his own damnation.
Strained screams and the reek of rotten flesh fill his dreams. Madness and chaos are the main plots in his nightmares in which he pleads to stop having. His own reality was a mirror of every agony he has to face every day in his line of work. Why is God punishing him even in his dreams?
Those cries of pain and the smell of both burnt flesh and gunpowder are a toxic combination to Leon’s messed up mind. To him, they served as an everlasting proof of his devilish nature. He realizes that the image of innumerable lifeless bodies’ guts all over the floor with his brains smashed over the ground is a common occurrence for him. He becomes desensitized albeit his soul hurting for those who lay at his feet.
Now, he knows that what he's doing is in the name of survival. Millions of people live unaware of the dangerous situations he has to fight on a daily basis, they get to sleep on a warm bed next to their loved ones. If he wants to keep that on, he ought to kill.
But he wouldn’t do it otherwise, he wasn’t built for that life.
But despite that, the usual eerie feeling washes over him whenever he has to pull the trigger. He has grown accustomed to them, on the battlefield he was a fiery pawn, following orders as they told him to.
But as soon as his character ends his performance, his facade and mask falls off his face. He’s no longer a puppet from his higher-ups, he was just him. Leon.
II. RECOGNITION.
He places Matilda — his brush to paint every ground with blood — on his nightstand. To be fair, that’s a habit he can’t just let go. After every mission, his mind is all over the place for the next few days. Every sound activates a fear deep within him that keeps him awake at night and worried during the day.
He washes his hands, a thorough ritual he follows step by step. His hands touch the water, lukewarm to bring him some kind of comfort. He rinses away every blood spot he may have engraved on his bruised skin. The warm and clear liquid reaches his fingernails, which he meticulously scrubs, washing away any leftover of someone’s brain. 
He takes pride in being clean. However, it had developed into an obsession at this point. Being dirty meant killing, and killing meant despair. So, he tries to avoid his gaze on the mirror each time he arrives home. Sadly, he usually doesn’t recognize the man that is staring back at him.
Eventually, he turns off the faucet and walks towards the couch. He’s tired, both mentally and physically. He doesn’t get any younger and living as an agent surely doesn’t help his case. But at last, his home. Safe.
He turns on the TV, he’s welcomed by the News Channel which he quickly changes. Nowadays, it appears that nothing good happens in this messed up world, and he doesn’t want to bring sorrow to his home too. He searches through the vast choices of channels until something catches his eye. Casablanca.
A feeble smile forms on his face, a simple thing like that brings Leon a small percentage of happiness, which it’s a lot given his constant state of dullness. 
He sometimes quotes phrases from the movies he watches. He genuinely expects someone to notice, his tired blue eyes would roam over the numerous faces of agents, hoping someone catches the meaning behind his words. He’s tired, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to chat with someone.
Nobody seemed to notice, maybe they were busy.
Curiously, he had changed the channel just at the right moment when Rick Blaine said his line. Leon’s favorite.
“I never make plans that far ahead.” Both the character and Leon say simultaneously. It brings Leon a sense of joy. Pathetically enough, his hobbies remind him that he is, in fact, still human. 
He sighs, looking around his apartment. It was dull, it showed his lack of decoration and personal touch. He believes there was no point in placing ornaments or things of that sort since he doesn’t even spend most of his time there. In recollection, he has no home. At least not physically.
He’s a man of the world, people look at him and see someone who is strong and independent rather than a simple man. But his heart’s heavy, with a burden and anguish that no painkiller could ease.
He’s tempted to grab a bottle from his cabinet. Drown in the burning liquid and pass out. He doesn’t like alcohol. But he has always been weak to addictions. So, even when he was a rookie cop and his girlfriend broke up with him, he ran to the nearest bar and took all the booze he could. Maybe he should’ve noticed the red flags, and maybe gone to therapy or something like that. But… oh, right, the next day the world literally ended for him.
But, he refrains from doing so. Deep down, he knew that letting his addiction win would be a deadly solution to his problems. Acknowledging is the first step to recovery, experts say. However, he knew that he couldn’t do it alone.
Before even letting more negative thoughts come into his mind. He gets up from the couch and walks toward the bathroom, again. He stays in front of the door for a few seconds, as if scared of going back there. Eventually, he does enter.
His hand reaches for the switch and the lights are turned on. The luminescent white light revealed his face in front of the mirror. He takes one, two, and three deep breaths before fully opening his eyes. 
He bites his lips, seeking a sort of relief from that action yet he bites too hard that almost draws blood. He’s trying his best, this mundane act is no longer something that he does daily. So, grant him some recognition. 
His eyes travel and land on the mirror and after a while, he fully sees himself. His eyes are wide open, not because he was surprised to discover the man that was in front of him. But to compare him to the one he used to be. 
Just a few years ago, his blond hair was still bright, showing signs of his thorough routine. But now, it has turned into a black mop that could no longer be compared to his past self. His stubble has grown too, he was a late bloomer, he didn’t grow a beard until he reached the age of 27 when he could finally see some signs of pores growing hair. But to see his face so… rugged and rough was definitely a slap back to reality.
He takes two steps back, his hand reaching for the hem of his shirt. Swiftly, he takes it off, revealing his chest and abdomen. He was no stranger to his own physique since he obviously showers. 
However, the sight that the mirror provided was very different from seeing his point of view. His eyes were observing someone else’s perspective, if he ever had the chance to date someone they would see… that.
A chest which was filled with scars and bruises. They were like tattoos, imprinted on his skin. Those will never fade and if he grants someone the misfortune of dating him, will they be repulsed by the idea of witnessing his tainted self?
He wasn’t a hero, he was far away from calling himself that. But he is starting to think that maybe, just maybe, those marks can remind him of his arduous path. Not in a condescending way, but in a fulfilling memory.
III. FURTHERANCE.
He feels… weird. It’s been a while since he last got a haircut, and having someone holding scissors next to his neck wasn’t something he was looking for. But, there he is.
It took everything in him to call the hairdresser. He has long forgotten how to even speak to someone in a normal setting. “Agent Kennedy here, haircut, out.” He couldn’t say that! 
At last, he booked an appointment. It wasn’t the most expensive place, not because Leon didn’t have the money but rather, because he wasn’t looking to be surrounded by luxuries and opulence. A cheap but nice place would do.
Once he arrived, he noticed that he didn’t match well with the place. He knew he carried an aura of mystery and unapproachability but Jesus, it was now obvious with the way some old ladies kept looking at him as if asking: Who the hell is this man?
All of his previous actions led him to where he’s sitting now. 
The granny behind him keeps showering in compliments which he couldn’t quite understand. A few years ago, he may have blushed and waved a hand dismissively, but now? He doesn’t see how he could be called a handsome man.
For him, looking good and taking care of himself had stopped being a requirement a few months ago. But it wasn’t something that happened out of the blue. He gradually started noticing the changes and once he realized, his whole appearance had changed. 
His eyes are piercing and never changing, an unmistakable aura of exhaustion and helpness surrounds him. Yet, once the old lady's eyes land on him, he can’t help but smile back. It was always in his nature — he lives for others.
It’s always been like this. Naturally, his gullibility and his unfounded faith have shaped and molded him differently throughout the course of years. Having to survive an apocalypse, taking care of an infant, and getting betrayed by a certain someone would sequentially take a toll on him. Nonetheless, his primal wish for altruism and hope will always remain in him. They were his roots which led to creating a strong and fortified trunk. 
He’s still hoping this tree will thrive.
The lady asks him how long has it been since he last cut his hair, and he doesn’t know how to respond. Normally, he would cut it himself, since time was priceless and he couldn’t nor wanted to go to a specific place to get his hair trimmed. So he learned by himself, which wasn’t the safest option.
By the way the old woman’s hands brush on his hair, shaking and trembling due to the years, he knows that she knows. It’s obvious by the way some strands are awkwardly cut and overall most of them were misshapen. A poor attempt at maintaining his heartthrob boy hairstyle.
He remains silent — for most of the time. —  He doesn’t answer any questions that were directed at him. Not because he didn’t want to, it’s just that his line of job never prepared him for small talk. In fact, chit-chat just meant that someone was trying to gather information out of him, which prompted him to just refrain from speaking
The government has fucked him up.
He acknowledges it. But it’s not easy to make a change when that something is the only thing he has known for at least 15 years of his life. The curse of despair had so unlucky landed on him and he knew no witchcraft which could prevent him from that.
His mind register most things people would overlook. Given his duty at the job, he ought to be an observer. Yeah, he is also a fighter but he relies heavily on his analyzing skills before attacking. Knowing your enemy before striking is what has saved him every damn time.
His permanently furrowed eyebrows and cold eyes are the first thing he notices in the mirror as the woman keeps cutting some of his hair. A hand unconsciously reaches for the little space between his brows. 
Maybe if he stops frowning.
Maybe if he stops scowling.
Could he give a better impression of himself?
It’s lacking authenticity, he feels like he’s acting rather than being genuine. But for now, he tries forcing a gentle smile which doesn’t meet his eyes yet it’s better than almost pouting every time he breathes. 
All of a sudden, the bell of the door rings announcing that someone else has arrived. Some of the old ladies who are waiting for their turn start getting up from their chairs to greet the person who had just come in.
An everyday customer, that must be. Leon thought.
He was oblivious of how much you are going to change his life.
He can’t see you, not yet. But as the observer he is, he can deduce that this said individual is genuinely loved and appreciated. A drastic contrast between the way he’s received when he returns from a mission. Fake laughs, fake thankful words. 
A complete fraud.
You walk as if you own the place, but your stride doesn’t come off as haughty or arrogant. You exude an aura of familiarity, hospitality, and therefore a gentleness that it’s foreign to Leon. 
You walk towards his seat, where the granny is cutting his hair. As soon as the gray-haired woman sees you, he observes how her eyes light up with delight and joyfulness he hadn’t seen before. 
“Adelaide…” You stop before you even reach Leon. He admires the scene developing through the mirror. He sees you for the first time, you’re definitely a nurse or at least you work in the healthcare area given your uniform. You have your hands on your hips and a playful glare was formed on your face. If he could guess, you just caught this lady doing something she wasn’t supposed to do.
“I think I told you you should be resting.” You squint your eyes as you keep looking at Adelaide, Leon takes note of her name. You are accusing her, yet your friendly demeanor doesn’t falter. 
It’s refreshing to see innocent social interactions. It's a welcome-back reality check. At least, at this moment, he could embrace the tranquility. Although it will end as soon as the hairdresser informs him that his hair is done.
“You know I can’t stand still…” Her voice comes out as a booming melody. Even though the years were obvious by the wrinkles on her face, she sounded so animated and beaming. “This job is everything I have ever known.”
Now he can agree on something. However, he is fully aware the situation is deadly different. Between cutting hair and slitting someone else’s throat, there is a vast difference. But, in his mind, he could already make up a conversation based on that information.
“I know, but…” You take a step further and place a hand on the granny’s shoulder. Leon couldn’t help but feel like an outsider now that the three of them were reflected in the mirror. “You could just take a few days off… Your shoulder will thank you for it.”
As you advise the granny your eyes dart from her eyes in the mirror to Leon’s. 
For the first time.
You acknowledge his presence with a nod and a simple smile. Time seems to stop as he scans your face. You look younger, you are definitely younger than him. Not young enough for him to feel weird about it, but there was a certain glint in your eyes that told him you haven’t experienced misery and desolation in your life. Unlike him who has yet to experience happiness.
He doesn’t want to indulge so much, but his thoughts are having a blast right now. Maybe it was his lack of social interactions and meaningful relationships but he wants to know more about you. 
“It’s quite unusual to see a man here. I would have thought someone like you would go to a barber.” He comes back to reality as he notices you are talking to him. Your eyes remain fixed on his as your smile continues to be displayed on your face. 
Someone like… him? Yeah, that statement isn’t new to him. Especially since his demeanor is still so rugged. But hey! He’s making a change even though you don’t know.
“Barbers don’t know how to cut my hair.” He realizes his voice came out rigid and plain. He didn’t intend to, but he is used to his military speech and tone. “They… just don’t get it right…” His last sentence is definitely more hushed but not any less monotone. 
“Fair enough. At least Adelaide here knows exactly how to keep your hair safe from a buzz cut.” Leon lets out an amused breath as you joke about his hair. It feels like a gentle breeze, indulging in light-hearted teasing with a stranger. And not any stranger, but you.
He has felt attraction, he’s a man after all. His line of job wasn’t the most ideal to find a partner but he can’t deny how some agents were pretty to look at. However, he couldn’t form a romantic relationship there. Between death and violence, the battleground wasn’t the place to have a partner, form a family, and live happily ever after.
“Yeah…” He sheepishly responds, he doesn’t know what else to add. You had taken the reins of the conversation as soon as you teased him. Now, he hopes something comes into his mind to keep the conversation flowing.
“I haven’t seen any other gentleman wearing this hairstyle,” Adelaide says as she resumes her work. She moves the scissors gracefully. She is — with no doubt — an expert in this area. Though the simpleness of her salon tells him otherwise. “If I may say, I think it really suits you.”
“You should have seen me in the 90s.” Those words leave his lips before he even registers them in his mind. It was an innocuous joke, nonetheless, it carried a hint of self-deprecation. He doesn’t look like his old self, he knows that. Especially after seeing himself in the mirror that night. But nobody there has to know, for them, it was a simple light-hearted joke.
The whole salon erupts in laughter, he doesn’t think his words are that funny. But hey, he will take the compliment. 
However, his eyes catch a glimpse of you not laughing. At work, most people wouldn’t laugh at his own words because they weren’t needed. He knew that. But then again, none of you were in a life-or-death situation. Leon doesn’t want to overthink, but… did he come out as a pretentious dude? Or an arrogant dickhead? 
Or maybe you have caught the real meaning behind those words.
You let out a breathy laugh, not too long to be considered a giggle but not short enough to be a chuckle. You don’t add anything else, your eyes just linger on his face for a few more seconds before turning on your heel.
For a moment, he’s taken aback. He feels like he’s going crazy but for a split second, he sees himself in you. Not because you shared the same past or path and there was no way you had the same traumas. But the way you had observed him, made him feel analyzed, as if you were studying the way he talked and expressed himself.
Maybe he’s indeed going crazy.
Leon watches you taking a seat on an empty chair, next to another customer who gives you a polite smile. From there, he hears you telling Adelaide that your shift at the hospital has just ended and you just wanted to check up on her. 
For a while, he relaxes until Adelaide tells him that they are done. She persuades him to bleach his hair after he accidentally told her that he had blond hair in the past. But he escapes her attempts by telling her that he wants to pay.
He walks towards the register and pulls out a 20-dollar bill. It was quite cheap, especially when he had cut so much hair. At least he looks more presentable now.
You appear out of nowhere as he was paying. Your frame leans over the counter and for a second, you let the awkward silence linger in the air. 
Eventually, you speak.
“You don't belong here.” You say without an ounce of malice. You're expressing a fact. Leon has never been around the salon and doesn't look the part.
He frowns slightly, he was keeping up his laid-back appearance just fine until you blurted out your thoughts.
“It's my first time here.” He states before turning around and facing you. 
“That I know.” You nod.
“Then… was your comment really necessary?” Leon's words could come off as rude even though it wasn't his intention. But, it seems they don't even phase you.
“Not really.” You shrugged. Your voice was nonchalant. “But as you could already guess, I'm a nurse. And I have seen people like you come and go out of the hospital.”
He is trying to understand what your point is. Under any other circumstances, he would have told the other person off for even daring to speak about him and his lifestyle. He wasn't violent, not at all. But sometimes his limit was put to the test.
“What I'm trying to say is that…” He sees your attempt at explaining yourself. “I think It's safe to assume you're an agent or something of that sort, right?”
Leon doesn't react nor wants to. People knowing he was an agent wasn't a problem since it wasn't a secret. 
After a few seconds, he lets out a sigh he didn't know he was holding and nods. Being honest could be the start of a friendship, at least that's what Leon thinks.
“Was it my frame and physique that gave it away?” If he was an artist he could easily say he was getting better at the art of improving. Just a few weeks ago, he would have never left a comment like that lingering in the air. 
“Nope.” You cross your arms at the level of your chest. 
And there you go breaking his fantasies. He thought his phrase was so flirty.
“There's a scar on your cheek, it looks pretty deep.” You gesture to Leon where the scar is on your own cheek. He instinctively brings his finger to where it is in his. 
That's one of the few scars he remembers exactly how he got it. 2004, Spain. He experienced what betrayal was beforehand. Who he used to hold in high regard was the one who didn't hesitate to hold a knife and leave a nasty reminder of his deception. 
“I got it in a fight.” He sticks with a simple phrase, not diving deeper. Nonetheless, he realized you’re a perspicacious individual, lying won’t get him anywhere.
“Fight… right.” 
Both of you smile knowingly, the smirk giving away a sense of teasing between the two of you, for the first time. Even though you know nothing about how far and wild his job actually was, you had an idea that this said fight wasn’t just a normal and common one.
“So…” Leon sees how you shift your weight from one foot to another. There hasn’t been a shy bone in yourself ever since you entered the salon but now words don’t come out of your mouth as easily as before. “If you ever need a nurse, you can call me.”
As you rummage in your bag, you speak once again. “I may not be the most experienced but believe me when I said I had experience with some military and agents.”
You hand Leon a business card, your full name was there as well as your phone number and the hospital you work in. Your name falls swiftly out of Leon’s lips as he reads the content on the cardstock.
“And senior citizens.” He flashes you a dazzling smile, he doesn’t seem to realize that it’s been a while since he last smiled so freely and so.. natural. It feels like the sun hitting on his skin after a cold day. A warmth he had long forgotten he could feel.
He knew it was soon. Too soon to even imagine being your friend. But as he puts the card in his pocket, he wishes that this could be the beginning of something more.
IV. RELAPSE & RESTART.
He almost falls once he opens up at the door that leads him to his apartment. Another gruesome mission to add to his mental diary and more scars that will adorn his already hurting body. 
The same never-ending story, the same story being told once again. He doesn’t know when it will end. 
If it even ends.
The last months have been all about his ‘recovery’. He was a patient man, he was sure of that. However, he doesn’t understand how doing mundane things would help him. He was taking baby steps and walking on eggshells, trying not to fall back into his old addictions.
Which were slowly creeping into his mind.
A call from Hunnigan was the last thing he expected a few days ago. He was surprised not to get any task earlier but that didn’t mean he wanted to go back to fight off bioweapons and kill walking undead who were once rational people, with dreams and wishes just like him. 
But as much as he wanted to hang up and leave that world behind — knowing that the government wouldn’t give two shits about him and would walk through the same door he previously did and blow his brain — he accepted the mission.
In his own story, he’s a tragic character who can’t break the cursed loop he’s trapped in. The soft sounds of the rain no longer brought comfort to his aching heart, since those constant pitty-patter reminded him of the blood dripping from the people who were killed, by no one else but him.
He often thought he was going crazy, especially now as he walked towards the kitchen and stumbled on his own feet. Seeking something to grab on while he fights off the exhaustion. This last mission had taken a toll on him, both mentally and physically.
His fingers reach for the edge of the counter as he finally stays on his feet without the fear of falling onto the floor. His tired eyes close for a moment as he takes in his surroundings, his lonely apartment and his lonely life and his lonely self and his —.
He shakes his head, he wasn’t exactly in solitude. After that hurried meeting with you, he gained a new friend. He got to know you personally, something that he had missed for the longest time. To actually know someone deeper and not only their last names and occupations.
In exchange, he gave himself the chance to be more vulnerable. He couldn’t deny the attraction that he felt. But he was too afraid to fuck up the chance to have something meaningful with you. He told you about his years at the police academy, and he briefly shared his experience in Raccoon City, trying to be as vague as possible. In other words, he bared his soul to you.
But that didn’t mean everything was filled with butterflies and rainbows.
One night when you were treating one of his injuries (which he never treated in the past) he accidentally told you about his addictions and dark thoughts. Those which showed a persistent state of numbness and trauma. It was never his intention to worry you about those minor things, which he truly believed were not important.
But, as he recalls that night, he realizes that sadly, he can’t just end it all with a bullet through his brain. He has always thought about it, it’s not like the thought hasn’t crossed his messed up mind on those lonely nights when he wished someone would grant him a blink of sleep without having to dream about death and despair. 
His eyes open as he once again walks through the kitchen, the moonlight provides a faint source of light that casts on his dark space of living. He remembers that you once told him he should get some lights, and he indeed bought them but he can’t just seem to find enough time to put them on.
His mind wanders through the moments he has spent with you. You always said the most soothing of things, when you wanted to. You advised him, told him how worthy he can be and how special he must be to others even though they don’t know it yet.
Another step.
He didn’t quite catch the meaning of those words. For him, he only brings despair wherever he goes. A demon of destruction and annihilation. If hell had a list of its next guests he believes his name would be on the top of that list. God wouldn’t want him in his paradise.
One more step.
Nonetheless, you weren’t a teddy bear who only chanted words of praise and fairy-tale stories. You called out his bullshit, especially when he dared to joke about going back to his old habits.
Stop.
“Would you like a glass of whiskey?” He would sarcastically ask you whenever you visited him at his apartment, knowing the kind of reaction he would get out of you. You had none of that, though. As soon as he uttered those words, the grip your hand had on his arm would get tighter to the point that Leon would beg you to stop it. 
He knew you genuinely cared for him and he convinces himself that you’re wasting your time with someone like him. Someone already broken from the start. You were younger, with a life ahead of yourself, and a career to follow. And like the devil incarnate that he is, he is stopping you from that.
The story repeats itself, everything he touches turns into dust. He’s no longer a human but the shell of a man who once had dreams of becoming a cop. To become someone who would help innocent people. But instead, he’s killing those same poor souls in the name of the fucking government.
His fingers graze over the cabinet.
He despises his life, he hates everyone who forced him to follow this path. The resentment flows in his system as his hand grips the cabinet door even tighter; if he wasn’t so tired from his mission, he would have broken the tacky wooden furniture.
Why does it have to be this way?
Why does he have to continue witnessing the horrors of his life every day? 
Why do the ghosts of people haunt him every day as he tries to close his eyes and relax? 
Why has he become so desensitized to the bloodshed and yet as soon as he comes back to reality, it knocks the air out of his lungs?
And why is he already unscrewing the lid of his whiskey?
Time slows down for a moment as he gambles his choices. It's been months since he last took a sip from his so beloved whiskey. But at the same time, just one tiny drop would crumble all of his progress.
But why is progress so important if the product is going to be the same? Even if he gets better, his life won't. The only difference is that he may smile more during missions and act like everything is fucking alright even if it isn't.
But he isn't so lucky to fall deeper into his hell that easily. As soon as the cap falls onto the floor, the front door knob twists, announcing that someone is entering.
And who else has a key to his apartment?
The last person he wants to see right now.
The door creaks, antagonizing the imminent moment when you would see him at the scene of the crime with him being the culprit of his own homicide.
“Leon?” He hears you say as you step in, the darkness of the room allowing him a couple of seconds to hide the murder weapon – the bottle – and act clueless. But it seems that not even his nervous system is on his side. He just stands still.
“Sorry for being late. I had one hell of a shift back at–...” He sees your frame as you approach the kitchen. Your face falls momentarily, taking in the sight you were watching. Disheveled hair, bruises all around his face, and dark eyebags that gave the impression he hadn't slept for weeks.
Your eyes fall on the bottle in his hand. There was no cap which leads you to believe that he was drinking. Leon wanted to scream and tell you that you got it all wrong, but no words left his lips.
“Are you drinking?” Anger-filled, you take long strides before reaching for the bottle. Your eyes scan the content, seeing that it is half empty. Your accusatory gaze falls on Leon's.
“It's not what it looks like.” Worst phrase ever. He knows that he's telling you the truth, yet he couldn’t come up with anything worse than that. 
He looks like a kicked puppy, his eyes wide open as you keep staring at him with those eyes filled with… disappointment which it's worse than being screamed at. He wasn’t built for that. He was used to resentment looks, to punches and kicks. But disappointment came every time he had to tell families that their father wouldn’t make it that night because he died on a mission. It came each time he had to inform a mother that their beloved son succumbed to a virus. 
The once rookie cop still lives within him. The one who hates disappointing people, the one who wants to save everyone. But especially the one who can’t do it alone.
“Then help me understand.” You place the bottle on the kitchen counter. Your stare doesn’t falter yet a hint of concern washes over your face. “Because all I see is you drinking after literally promising me that you’d never do it again.”
As a matter of fact,  you didn’t actually see him drinking. He wanted to say that, but he knew it would bring even more anger to your already burning expression. However, as soon as that thought left his mind, another one came.
The sole fact that he didn’t drink, doesn’t spare him from any culpability. If it wasn’t for your intrusion, he’d be lying on the couch, wasted and intoxicated waiting to pass out. 
You take a deep breath, trying to keep your emotions in check. Leon isn’t dumb, he’s exhausted but he’s aware of how much you’re holding back. You would never scream at him, that’s obvious. But you didn’t want to bring even more self-hatred to him.
He had his own mental battles, ones you will never understand no matter how much he describes them to you. His anxiety was always bothering him, like an annoying bug buzzing in his ear. You knew how overwhelming everything was.
And you knew how recovery wasn’t an easy step to take, but it definitely takes so much maturity and perseverance, something that Leon surrounds himself in – even though he doesn’t see it. He’s a fighter, he’s a hero, he’s a lover. He keeps fighting and fighting even when he doesn’t see an end. But he mastered the art of moving forward.
So, he’s allowed to fall from time to time.
“Did you drink?”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Were you planning on doing it?”
He’s silent for a moment, he’s afraid that his answer will mean more disappointment from you. That you will get to see how pathetic he really was. 
“Yes.” He eventually confesses.
You absentmindedly nod, letting out a long sigh.
“Another mission?”
“...yes.”
You didn’t ask for the details, knowing – to an extent – about Leon’s job, you knew it must have been so impactful in order to almost throw him back to his old friend, alcohol. And you knew Leon was like a sponge, he absorbs everything he experiences and never tells anyone. You thank God that he accidentally told you about his addiction, now you can at least protect him.
“It was…” Leon continues speaking, his fingers scratching a spot on the kitchen counter. His eyes don’t meet yours, as if he’s trying his best to make the words come out of himself. “It was really bad this time.”
He lets out a dry chuckle that sounds more like an attempt to water down the situation. One thing about him is that he doesn’t cry. He wouldn’t let someone see that side of him. He’s rigid, he’s stoic, he’s unemotional. He’s a DSO agent, born to serve his country and die for it. 
But right now he wants to be a child again. 
He wants to be that same infant who would fall on purpose just to get kisses from his mother. He wants to be that same innocent child who could come back running to his mom’s arms when the world was too scary. 
He wants to stop the world for a second and cry at the top of his lungs, he wants to punch a wall until his knuckles bleed, he wants to be held, he wants to be told everything will be okay even if it will never be okay.
His thoughts drift to when he was younger – to when he could imagine himself being a better person. If he could speak with himself, what would he say? The image of a tiny him crosses his mind, a young Leon playing all by himself with tiny police cars.
Within him, there’s a rookie cop begging for help amidst the gruesome scenario he had to face back in 1998. Beneath all the layers of self-hatred and resentment, hidden in that dead gaze.
He shakes his head, in a poor effort of swallowing the lump that was forming in his throat. An imminent sign that his emotions will fall like a waterfall, reminding him of his own weaknesses. His curtain of hair falls onto his eyes, blurring his vision. 
Or was it his tears? He no longer knows.
He deserves an award for how hard he’s trying to stop the inevitable. His fingers shake, his breath gets heavier and his heart aches. But he couldn’t bear it for much longer, especially knowing that at least, he had someone to go to when his mind was too much for him.
So, he allows himself to feel human again.
“It was horrible…” He finally breaks down. He silently lets the tears fall from his eyes as he sobs. The thought of every mission is on his mind as the constant spams of his sobs control his body. 
He feels like the air has been knocked out of his lungs, the uncontrollable way that he chokes on his sobs makes his throat constricted. 
He lowers his head, he doesn’t want you to see how weak he has become. A tough agent simply doesn’t cry. An agent bites, chews, swallows, and shuts up. 
Silence sets in the kitchen, occasionally broken by Leon’s tears and choked breaths. His fingers itched to grab something, to hold onto something. To feel that he wasn’t alone, that he was indeed not all by himself in this messed up world.
You slowly reach for him. Baby steps, for someone who was touched starved, even if he was unaware of that fact. For someone that’d jump whenever he feels touched, because his mind can’t let go of the fear of being bitten, of being killed. 
You quietly made your way to Leon’s hand, your fingers ever so grazing it. Feather touches brushes against the back of his hand, making sure to notice if he shows any signs of discomfort. There were none.
However, you surely notice that his sobs have stopped for the time being. He’s still sniffing though. As if on cue, his glassy eyes lock on yours, before you fully intertwine your fingers with his.
You didn’t hug him immediately, you didn’t throw your arms around his neck at the very right moment when he started crying, and you especially didn’t give him a shoulder pat as if saying “Don’t cry.” He appreciates the fact that you took it slow, you gave him a warning and proceeded further when he allowed you to.
Loving takes time, and loving Leon would surely take longer than anything you have experienced.  You have treated many patients, you know that the injuries in a body heal fairly quickly. Now, the wounds in a soul that was doomed from the start are not something that easy to mend. 
After a while of your fingers being intertwined and sweat covering the palm of your hands, you feel the faintest squeeze, coming from Leon’s side. You look at him and see a tiny smile formed on his lips with some dry tears adorning his face.
You say nothing, scared to break the atmosphere of tranquility that had formed after Leon stopped crying. It took some seconds for Leon to muster up the courage to go further, intimacy and platonic touches were already something he was unfamiliar with. Now, he had to add romantic feelings to that list.
If he had met you when he was younger, he’d have surely asked you out. Take you on a nice little date and steal a kiss or two. But now, he was trapped in the course of the years, older and supposedly wiser. However, you were the one who was being strong – for him. Not the other way around.
But, as much as he wants to pity himself and wonder about those what-ifs, he has a friend now. He would take care of that heart of his in the future. For now, he wants to embrace the one friendship he hasn’t tainted yet.
The one person who still hasn’t seen the horrors that this world has to offer.
He untangles his fingers from yours and looking at your eyes one last time, he brings your hand to his cheek. The palm of your hand bringing some warmth to his skin.
With his eyes closed now, you see an expression you haven’t seen before. A peaceful one, as if he was sleeping without his usual nightmares. It was comforting, in a sense, knowing that you have brought a moment of serenity to his tumultuous life.
You were surprised at first, not expecting Leon to show that display of affection. However, part of you understands that he was seeking comfort. It’s been a while since he last felt safe with someone, someone who he could cry with, someone who wouldn’t judge him.
Your thumb grazes over his stubbled cheek, wiping away any proof that he has been crying. 
“Thank you…” His voice is barely a whisper, you almost didn’t hear him singing his gratitude.
You want to say “You’re welcome” or “It’s okay” but none of those phrases convey what you really wish to show. Saying the first one would dismiss all of your previous actions as a simple attempt to comfort him. And the latter was a lie, it’s not okay, even if you wanted to believe it yourself.
“I got you.” You stick with that one. It wasn’t a lie but a promise you plan on fulfilling. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“You promise?” He asks, opening his eyes. His tone is a hopeful one.
“I do.” You reassure him.
With your free hand – the one that wasn’t on Leon’s cheek –  you reach for the bottle of whiskey that was long forgotten after their little situation.
“But before that, we need to get rid of this.” You show it to Leon before he chuckles. “We’re now only drinking apple juice.”
He didn’t miss the use of we instead of you. Maybe he’s reading between the lines, but he hopes that you’re by his side now that he wants to leave his addiction for sure. He wants you to see how much he can achieve if he sets his mind on it.
“Apple juice it is.”
V. ABSOLUTION.
The nakedness of his body didn't override the vulnerability he showed once he let you in his life, mind, and soul. But as you help him wash his back, he can’t help but reminisce about that first night when he first saw himself in the mirror.
He remembers being insecure about showing his scars to someone, scared that the other person would be disgusted by the sight of it. 
However, you weren’t repulsed, far from that. In your mind, Leon’s skin served as a canvas and each bruise and scar were strokes of a paintbrush. In this case, they showed Leon’s hard life and non-achievable freedom. They showed how much Leon had endured and how many fights he had won.
Therefore, they were proof that Leon was a lover of life. He loved everyone else’s lives that he would sacrifice his in order to protect the world.
Leon sometimes drops hints about his job. He didn’t directly tell you about the government and its fucked up methods, but you collected the clues and formed your own puzzle.
He was forced to join.
It was strange, in a way. To know that a gentle soul like him had to face the hostility of a country, of a government that could easily threaten someone into joining the force. However, you weren’t clueless about its power.
Eventually, after those hints, other hints came along the way. 
Leon was sweet, funny, and a gentleman. Your dynamic as a nurse and patient was long forgotten even though you still tend to some of his wounds. And your friendship shifted into something more, especially after the whiskey situation months ago. 
However, even though his qualities overshadow his flaws, there’s something he can’t hide.
He’s too awkward for his own good.
Ever since the alcohol incident, Leon would always try to be smooth and compliment you over the simplest things. “Have you done something different to your hair? No, you didn’t? Oh… Well, it looks good” He would often facepalm himself because he couldn’t flirt even if his life depended on it.
Eventually, after those not-so-discrete hints, he took matters into his own hands. He often faked minor injuries. “You don’t understand, my eye literally hurts” and he would have access to admire every tiny detail your face had to offer. From your moles to the way your eyebrows furrowed trying to concentrate.
And that led to feathery touches. In the name of friendship, of course.
After one dinner – that Leon so gratefully prepared – you would often find yourself sitting on the couch, shoulders pressed to one another as you played with his rough hands. You would ask him where he got that scar, how he got this one right here, wow it looks really deep. 
And he let you because he did the same. Because those angel-like touches soon turned into endlessly staring sessions where silence was more inviting than any word could be. You gazed into each other’s eyes for only God knows how long. Expecting that the other one would break the intimate moment but none of them had the heart to do so.
It would be an understatement to say that Leon felt so safe with you. Over the months, Leon had gotten to know what a home felt like. His apartment remained the same, physically and aesthetically speaking. But the way it immediately lightens up when you arrive – yeah, Leon could finally call it home.
That’s why, it was so easy for Leon to let those words slip out of his mouth one night when you were leaving.
“You feel like home.” 
And for a moment, you let those words sink into you. You thought you were merely an acquaintance, a simple friend at most. But no – there he was, Leon Kennedy, US government agent, telling you that you’re his home.
Meanwhile, the silence at that moment made Leon go insane. He thought he fucked it up, you would surely run away now. Who the fuck says that someone is their home? Shit shit shit—
“You’re my home too.” 
And that was everything he needed to hear to stop all of his dark thoughts from appearing once again. The darkness that embraced both of them set the perfect scenario to indulge in this crucial moment. A late confession, but a real one.  
As he gazes into your eyes, he can’t help but wonder if this tiny fragment of happiness would go away like everything else had in his life. You’re too precious, too important to die, to vanish from his life and never come back.
And your hand reached for his cheek, your thumb caressing the same scar you noticed when you first met him, he couldn’t help but ask God to grant him one more chance in life. He promises — in a fragment of seconds — to be a better human, to be a better citizen but please, don’t take away this last string of hope he’s holding to.
And he felt that God had finally responded to his prayers when he saw how you leaned closer, letting your lips find his in a gentle but so meaningful and awaited kiss. He hesitantly parted his lips, scared that this may be a dream. But of course, he doesn’t dream so that had to be the reality. The sorrow, the anxiety, the longing, and the expectations — all of those were long forgotten as he mentally thanked destiny for this.
“Earth to Leon” You giggle behind him as you rub a sponge all over his back. You were careful not to be so rough on his already aching back. “A penny for your thoughts?”
Of course, he found himself daydreaming. 
From that night, his relationship with you skyrocketed. And his home became your home too.
He doesn’t know when it happened, but he found himself getting even more comfortable with you. He didn’t even need to ask himself — letting you see him naked as both of you wash each other’s bodies? Yeah, it was definitely love. 
And he loves being in love.
“I just spaced out for a bit.” He responds with a yawn, the silence that surrounded both of you was inviting to just sleep throughout the night. Funnily enough, you only just sleep. Leon was grateful the first nights since he was getting used to the fact that someone else was sleeping on his bed.
But now he was growing a bit impatient.
Especially with your lingering touches.
As you let the water wash away all the soap, your lips soon find his back, pressing soft kisses on each scar that adorned his skin. “It’s okay…” a kiss on a tiny scar. “Are you going to take your sleeping pills tonight?” Another kiss on a scar that was near his shoulder.
Right… he was put on medication. He often takes sleeping pills when his eyes won’t shut down even if drowsiness is engulfing him. But lately, sleep has become easier, and his nightmares have decreased.
He’d like to think that after you started sleeping next to him, his mind started to feel at peace. But that was something unreal, nobody could fix someone. 
But he had to be honest, you surely helped him a lot.
“Not tonight.”
He feels you nodding as your chin lays on his shoulder blade. It’s in moments like these where he thinks that life doesn’t sound so bad. As he zones out and lets you do all the job, he realizes that maybe it’s okay to keep on living.
He’s a big teddy bear, to say the least. The DSO agent who once swore duty to his country was pushed aside when he was with you. Why would he need to keep up his facade when home meant security, therefore you are what makes him safe. So, as you help him out of the shower, drying him off with a towel he lets you take the reins, his body on autopilot mode.
His strong arms wrap around your frame, perfectly molding and fitting like puzzle pieces. It feels like the flow of water, gently swaying your bodies until they reach their destination, their little nest away from everything outside. 
He takes pride in serving, providing, and protecting. It was deeply imprinted in him, right in his bone marrow. The blood that runs through his veins pushes him to never stop, to continue working for others. 
However, as you help him sit down on the bed his mind shuts down for a moment. He allows himself to take this moment of peace and drown himself in it. Be a little selfish, if he can. The tranquility of a domestic setting was still so foreign to him yet he doesn’t understand how he could’ve lived without feeling this for so long.
The towel around his midsection hugs him just right to prevent the material from falling. His hair is still a little wet, and so is yours. You use the extra towel to help him dry off. 
He very much enjoys the lazy touches you share at nights like these. It was a nice reminder that the darkness of the imminent dusk will not bring more nightmares, but peaceful dreams. The ghost of his past was getting tired of haunting him, it seems.
You’re still pretty careful with him, as if you were handling fine ceramic which in a sense, he was. He was shattered porcelain, glued back together with utter care. You both were artists, who completed with great skill this piece of art called life.
And now, your lips are acting like a brush, as they touch Leon’s skin. Kisses are planted along his jaw and he lets out a sigh from the feeling of being treated with so much devotion. If he could serve as a blank canvas, he was ready to rewrite his story with you.
Or maybe not rewrite, his past made him a person as much as it hurts. His grief, his pain, and his previous solitude built up the man that he is now. So, he will add another page to his life story. He will paint another landscape where the sun rises and casts its lights on the world. 
He looks at you and sees nothing but raw love and a hint of desire hidden behind those orbs. He notices, then, that just like him you are indeed eager to please him in the other sense of the word. It was embarrassing to realize that he shouldn’t have kept quiet about his needs when you had already proved to him that it was okay to speak, to think, to feel.
It’s been a while since he last let himself be this physically vulnerable. Sure he wasn’t an inexpert in the area but it has never been this intimate. Hearts never bonded and names weren’t remembered. Never has someone truly cared about his welfare before. To put it a name, he’d have called it a trade. He let off some steam and the other part got what they wanted. No strings attached and surely no feelings hurt.
However, it would be a lie if he told himself he didn’t crave to actually make love to someone. To feel someone’s body brushed against his in a sweet and gentle motion. To let himself and his soul be kissed with so much love that it would make him cringe. 
You stop your waterfall of kisses for a while, letting the silence linger for a few seconds as you grab his hand. Slowly, you interlace your fingers with him, a well-known display of affection from you. Your signature, you may even say.
“Hey…” His eyes search yours, and he sees how you’re looking for approval, for his consent. He once heard eyes are the mirror of someone’s soul and the world suddenly feels so small as he remembers that he met those same eyes months ago, unaware of the effect you’d have on him.
“Hey.” You repeated, for the second time this night, his mind decided to wander again. “Is it okay if…” you trail off, not because of embarrassment or sudden shyness, not at all. But he can deduce that you wanted him to finish your sentence. 
I’ve been dying to touch you. I’ve been craving you touching me, he wanted to say. However, his sense of decency stops him from uttering that rather needy phrase. In a way, he can infer that you already know about his lustful desires. It was a matter of time before both of you indulged in those carnally and normal needs. 
Nonetheless, he is oblivious that you won’t let this night be like any other. No, you wouldn’t try anything too crazy — not yet — But after months of knowing him deeper and rawer, you know he’s tired. Exhausted from his life, exhausted from his job, and overall drained. He deserves to be treated right and you’ve been excelling in that task. 
But, you’ll show him that he can be as greedy as he wants to be.
“You can trust me.” You say in a hushed tone as if you were whispering a secret to him. Your hand slowly descends until it reaches where the towel meets his waist. 
“I do trust you.” He responds with a determined tone amidst the suggestive move of your hand. “I feel like I won the lottery with you.”
“Is that so?” You laugh, resuming your kisses around his stubbled cheek. Although this time, they carry some neediness in them.
“Positive.” He lets out a shaky breath as your finger ever so grazes over where the towel is tucked in. “Because you saw good in me when I had nothing to offer, you—”
“Stop.” Your voice remains soft even though your command doesn’t falter. ”None of those self-loathing words right now.”
He’s speechless for a moment before he slowly nods and lets your hand go lower. Leon feels his blood going south just from a few words.
But then again, loving you was really easy. So it was no surprise that he found himself already leaking at the anticipation of your imminent touch. 
“Let me make you feel better.” You whisper, allowing your hand to undo the towel that was previously wrapped around him. In a swift movement, it falls on the floor exposing his already hard length. 
You glance at Leon one last time and observe his reaction. There was no sight of changes of mind or hesitation, so you free his and your desire.
You connect your lips against his neck, and with gentle sucks, you prepare him for what’s about to come. Your wish —besides touching him— is bringing comfort in such an intimate act like this. He has trusted you with his soul and body before, that’s correct. But right now, you can feel the level of loyalty and therefore love he’s showing you. 
Your hand reaches for his dick, you thumb the slit of his tip collecting the precum that has already formed there, using it as a lubricant. 
Your fingers circle around his cock and, slowly, you start stroking him. You don’t want him to cum just yet, the feeling of being treated like this was something you want him to drown in. So, you keep up the steady pace. 
You disconnect your lips from his neck and focus your eyes on your ministration on his cock. The lewd sounds combined with the faint whimpers coming out from his lips were almost like background music that you are starting to love. 
He takes the opportunity of you pulling away from his neck to hide his face in the crook of yours. His breath tickles your skin as he continues letting out the most pretty sounds you’ve ever heard.
“Fuck…” He hisses as his word gets lost between the shlick sounds of your hand jerking him off. His nose brushes against the side of your neck as his cries fill your ears. You can hear him whispering your name from time to time, as well as some other curses of his own.
However, his tiny cries of pleasure soon turned into real sobs. 
No, he wasn’t sad but Christ, it was the first time actually took their time to focus on his pleasure and his well being. He always thought that love was never meant for him, that the simple act of falling in love would be impossible and unachievable. The thought of having his life attached to someone else used to send shivers down his spine.
Now, his world is no longer black and white, your mere existence brought color to his life.
Your hand stops for a minute, worried that you may have done something wrong. That leads Leon to pull away from your neck as some tears roll down his face. 
“Sorry… I — just continue please…” The desperation in his voice didn’t go unnoticed as he went back to nuzzle against your neck. And even if he was dazed out at this very moment, you will remember to talk about this again at another time.
“It’s okay, let it all go.” You reassure him as you resume your previous motions. It doesn’t take long before your hand sends him over the edge and close to his own climax. 
You pump him, your thumb grazing over the head of his dick from time to time. He absentmindedly thrust his hips up into your hand, seeking his near release. For him, you were granting him a visit to Heaven itself. Just the mere touch of your hand had him seeing angels and cherubims. How would it feel to be deep inside of you?
His lips are red from biting them, attempting to muffle his moans. His brain is a mess, with thoughts of you and only in there and his cock is throbbing as it chases his own high. Overall, Leon was putty in your hands. 
And by the way, his hips are starting to miss their rhythm, you know that it was a matter of seconds before Leon came undone in your hand.
“You’ve been so good for me…” You coo, still jerking him off with a slightly faster pace now. “You deserve to cum, don’t you?” You were always good with words but Jesus, he didn’t expect you would literally talk him through it.
As you whisper those praise words, he can’t stop his hips from rutting and bucking into your hand. “Yeah…— fuck — I’ve been so good. Please, let me cum.”
The image of a tough agent begging for release will surely imprint in your mind for a while. 
“Of course.” Your lips tug into a smile as you pick up the pace. It was a sight to behold, seeing Leon coming undone in your hands with his eyes rolling to the back of his head, and a dazed out expression that brought butterflies to your tummy.
Eventually, your hands slow down as Leon writhes under your touch. He lets out a loud muffled whimper as white thick ropes of cum spill onto his stomach and of course, your hand. 
He stays still for a while, letting his body rest for a second. He plants lazy kisses on your neck as a way of saying “Thank you” since words couldn’t really translate what he was feeling right.
“Shit—” After a while, Leon curses as his half-lidded eyes meet yours. His expression is one of exhaustion but his lazy smile tells you he was brimming with happiness. He reaches for his towel that was previously thrown off and cleans your hand.
“Are you ok?” You ask as Leon wipes your hand, you can’t help but let out a giggle at the considerate action.
“Yeah but…” He trails off as he cleans his abdomen too. You can already predict what was going on in that head of his. “What about you?”
“I’m okay Leon.” You sigh as you bring your now clean hand to his cheek. “Your pleasure is mine. Besides, you’re exhausted.”
But as much as your statement was true, you can’t deny the desire that was dripping between your thighs. Between the intimacy of your act and having Leon so vulnerable in your hands, your system knows what it wants.
“I am.” He doesn’t deny the fact that your ministrations sucked the life out of him. But he can keep going. For the first time in his life, he is grateful for his stamina as an agent. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t do it.”
Before you could even protest, Leon was already kissing your neck. The scent of your body wash filling his nostrils as his lips get hungrier and needier for the taste of your skin. And as you attempt to once again speak, he muffles your words with his mouth on yours.
You feel your reasoning go weak as well as your limbs. It took a few kisses for you to comply and let yourself be laid on the bed, strong but gentle hands holding you close even when you fell on the soft mattress.
He’s above you for a second as he admires the view. Your towel, unlike his, was still wrapped around your body. You wriggle your way to where the pillows of the bed are and you wait for him there.
He wastes no time to join you, carefully lying next to you rather than above you. You catch a glimpse of what he’s trying to do. One of his calloused hands reaches your waist and softly motions you to roll over your side. 
You roll over and you’re met with your reflection on the mirror that was next to your bed. Funnily enough, it was perfectly placed so it showed both of your bodies. Somewhere deep in your mind, you wonder if Leon set up the mirror there for this right purpose. 
But then again, Leon was spontaneous, behind all of his layers of grumpiness and sadness that once used to surround him, you knew his sappy, corny, and cheesy side that was hidden. And now, you get to notice his quirks every single day.
He grips your hips as he lays sideways too, slightly spooning you. “You no longer need this…” He murmurs as he takes off your towel, the sight of your bare body in the mirror has his mouth watering. Acting like a damn dog wasn’t on the list of things he’s proud of.
As he discards the fabric that covered your body, you feel his once again hard cock. But this time, it was painfully close to your core that you could already feel every vein brushing against your walls.
“May I?” He knows your answer, he’s just asking for the sake of it. To hear your voice dripping with lust and neediness. To hear you hum that yes in your sweet tone as always.
“Please…” Your whisper was enough to make his cock twitch. What is with you and your voice that melts Leon whenever he hears you? You’re both his salvation and weakness. He can’t function without you.
He has always wanted to leave a mark in this world. That he had indeed existed for something else than death and destruction. That he was more than Leon Kennedy, the US’ best weapon. He wanted to show the world that he, Leon — just Leon — was more than his messed-up destiny. 
He loves, he desires, he laughs and he yearns for connection. And right now, his body’s aching to feel you around him.
He snuggles closer and wraps a tight arm around your waist, hugging your abdomen just right. Instinctively, you arch your back, letting your rear brush against Leon’s dick making hiss from the friction.
For a moment, he stops hugging you. You almost whined for the loss of closeness when you feel Leon guiding his dick which easily slides through your wet folds. The tip of it bumps against your clit sending electricity all over your body.
He’s savoring this moment. Sadly, he doesn’t think he’ll last much longer once he starts. But, at least, he knows that this won’t be the last time since he finally allowed himself to be selfish, to wish happiness for himself.
Happiness has a name and is both yours and Leon’s.
At last, he pushed into you, just the tip for now. Admiring your face in the mirror, he whispers sweet nothings against your ear. Rambles about how perfect you look and feel right, how lucky he is, and so on.
“Look at you…” Leon points at the mirror and you open your eyes which are glassy from all the pent-up desire you’ve been holding back. At any other moment given, you’d have been quite self-conscious about the exposure of your naked body. But Leon — as you once did with him — is eager to show you that you’re indeed a sight for sore eyes.
“Look how perfect you look being mine.” Even though his words could sound possessive to anyone else, you know his voice brings out affection and tenderness. There are a few things Leon could call them his. And most of them are mundane items that don’t exactly bring comfort to him. 
But to call you his was something that he has always looked for. To show you off, buy you everything you’ve always desired, and tell the world that he had finally found his home. His one and only.
As he finishes his statement with a kiss on your cheek, he eases himself into you. He pushes all of his length as he hushes you once you hiss from the stretch.
“Shhh there you go…” He once again wraps his arm around you, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he inhales the scent he has grown to love. The same that has been lulling him to sleep ever since you decided to move in with him. 
He stays still for a few seconds, the feeling of filling you up could make him cum right on the spot but he stops himself. He distracts from your pulsating walls by kissing your neck and sucking on the skin which will clearly turn a soft purple color the next morning.
The pain soon turned into comfort and therefore it resulted in pleasure. As he hears you saying a soft “You can move” he slowly pulls out before thrusting into you with the same pace and force. He feels your walls clamping down his cock as he continues his motions. 
He slides in and out with lazy thrusts, his and your eyes are closed as heavy breaths and drowsy moans leave your lips. You were correct, he was exhausted from his previous high. But the way you drowsily made love was making this whole thing even more perfect.
“Taking me so well.” He murmurs against your skin, his breath tickling your neck as he grips your waist even tighter than before, as if he is scared that once he opens his eyes you won’t be there. “Sucking me in, like you know I belong here.”
His hand goes to your chest, where he plays with one of your nipples. His fingers pinching the sensitive spot as his hips continue lazily bucking into yours already feeling like his mind was all over the place.
You feel a heat forming on your belly as Leon continues whispering words you can’t quite register now. Too drunk in desire and too cock drunk to even care. “Fuck I love you so much…”
“I love you too.” You can’t really say anything else, everything would be sentences with no coherent meaning or sense. So you stick with your favorite phrase, you could sing every day that you love Leon, and he would do the same. Because the word love was once so far away from him.
It was poetic to see that Leon could feel his second climax of the night near as he heard you say that you love him. The back and forth of his hips slightly increase their speed but it remains true to the lazy nature of the act right now, though.
“I’m close.” Leon stutters as he says those words. “Can I come inside you? Please tell me I can.” There is some desperation in his voice, an aching and burning desire to paint your insides. 
“Fuck, yes. Yes, you can.” You manage to say before Leon lets out countless thanks you. Your body starts writhing under his grasp as your fingers start digging into Leon’s arms, leaving an imprint of your nails on his skin.
“Cum on me. Go ahead, do it for me.” He coos, coaxing more sweet whimpers out of you. “Let me fill you up.” 
You let out a muffled whimper as you came undone. He could feel your cunt gripping him as you reach your desired orgasm. Eventually, Leon’s hips which were previously rocking into your and slapping against his skin are now slowing down.
The wet noises sound so filthy yet Leon is having a blast right now. He could imagine himself getting to experience this every night with you by his side. Who could have thought that selfishness could be so rewarding?
With a low grunt, he cums inside of you as he promised. Letting his load fill your insides. He couldn’t hide the satisfied smile that formed on his lips. What a view.
He remains inside of you for a bit longer than needed. You can’t judge him, especially with the way he nuzzles into your neck letting out a yawn. Poor him was worn out. After his first climax, he had already felt that he touched the sky, and now he was in heaven.
After pulling out, he rested his cheek on your shoulder. Part of him wanted to feel you again yet he couldn’t even move an inch. However, it fulfilled him to know that you were going to be right next to him tomorrow, and the day after tomorrow, and for as long as you allow it.
“Thank you.” He whispers.
“We have to change those thank you into I love you.”
Leon was the sweetest guy. However, those thanks still came from a place of skepticism. 
“Sorry…”
He sheepishly said before drifting off to sleep. And, as usual, no nightmare is waiting for him to haunt his dreams.
VI. SERENITY
Attempting to get out of bed on a lazy Saturday morning should be a crime. However, your drowsy state didn’t stop you from reaching the now empty space next to you. The bed still provided you with the scent of the person you loved the most yet he wasn’t there. 
With a groan, you decide to get up from the bed. Your feet meet the cold tiles before you curse from the sudden pain you feel as you step on the remote. You have told Leon countless times that he shouldn’t sleep when he’s watching TV, yet the only response you get is “I’m just resting my eyes.” Therefore, that causes Leon to fall asleep with the remote on his chest which obviously falls throughout the night. 
After a while of inhaling and exhaling deeply from the pain, you make your way out of the room. The scenario that greets you is the same as other days just that Leon was missing in the picture. 
Your steps are slow as sleep is still running in your system, a yawn escapes you while you walk towards the kitchen counter. A note is waiting for you and you deduce it’s from Leon.
“I just went to run some errands, I’ll come back as soon as possible. Love you so so much.” 
His name was written at the bottom of the page next to a happy face that he had drawn. Silly, you thought.
You see that Leon had already prepared you a sandwich before he left. It was cold to the touch, so that means Leon has been gone for a while. He may come any time now. 
Life with him was… surely an adventure. He still goes on missions, leaving you to your own devices for days or even weeks. But they no longer haunt his mind like before. He still needs to be treated with utter care after one, though. Bruises and scars are not the only effects his journeys have on him. 
When he returns from a mission, the once dull and boring apartment welcomes him yet this time, it is full of colors and memories you have made with him. However, it’s not enough for him to completely drop his facade of a tough agent ready to end someone’s life. As you treat his wound, every tiny sound has him jumping on his seat. 
You can’t blame him, it takes a while before he can return to his usual self and be embraced by your warm body that will waste no time to hug him tight. Reminding that he was finally home.
Eventually, after settling down and returning to reality, his personality will shine again. If someone asked you to describe Leon in one word it would be impossible. The man that you chose to spend life with was everything all at once. He was definitely clingy, to begin with. Excuses were his everyday words as he tried to explain why it was completely alright for him to follow you everywhere you went.
At this point, it felt like you had adopted a puppy instead of having a boyfriend. “What’ chu doing?” He would often say as he peeked around the edge of the door frame and watched you from afar If he had a tail it’d be wagging so fast. The tough agent no longer existed in your presence, instead, a man who melted as soon as you hugged him took his place.
Loving, in his language, meant going overboard just for you. If he had to get on his knees and beg for a tiny kiss he’d do it. He’s grown needy to those sweet gestures only you could provide. But he didn’t need to win them. Loving, in your language, meant offering your heart on a platter for him.
God does he love you. You have the man whispering funny names in your ears as you wake up. You unlocked a part of him that he had long forgotten he had, he used to joke when he was nervous — freaking out because he thought he might die on a mission. But now, he invented a plethora of new pet names just to bother you and see you rolling your eyes laughing.
He’s gone through so much, he’s seen so much. Tranquility was the last thing he thought he would be surrounded with. Ever since he was forced to join the military, he made up his mind on the fact that his life would never be the same, Racoon City was his starting point and only his death would stop him from suffering.
Now, as you finally hear the door unlocking you admire how his figure appears. You squint your eyes as you try to pinpoint what’s different in him.
“Hey, you.” Leon walks towards you, closing the gap between you two as he hugs you.
“Hey, you too.” You return the hug, wrapping your arms around his waist.
“Missed me?”
“Not much.” You punch his side, not strong enough to make him jump but rather tell him that you were joking. “Now… On what adventures did you go without me?” 
“I just paid a visit to Adelaide.”
Adelaide, you haven’t forgotten about the old lady that you treated. However, you didn’t expect Leon to remain loyal to his service. And now that he mentions it, you realize what he has done to himself.
His hair has turned lighter. Blonder.
“Did you bleach your hair?” You can’t help but laugh at the thought, he had poor Adelaide working so early on a Saturday morning. But then again, you remember that both of them are workaholics, even though their jobs couldn’t be any more different.
“No, you’re going blind.”
God, he was so dumb.
Eternity used to sound like a cruel fate before. Stuck in a loop that he couldn’t escape from. But now, he will always look for you even in the tiniest details. He’d look for you in the darkness as two flicks of light trying to reach each other. In the universe, as two particles of stardust waiting to create something even bigger — a world for themselves, and a world to live on. 
Because, after all, you reached for him when he had nothing more to offer than his rotten self. You loved him when he couldn’t even love himself.
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am-i-interrupting · 2 months
Note
Imagine a reader who just avoids any possible touch. Even more touch repulsed than Alastor. Always wearing gloves, taking a few steps back when someone approches them too near. But just one day they randomly open arms for a hug and give the warmest, the comfiest, the fuzziest hug ever.
If you like what I’m doing consider tipping me for priority requests & access to characters I don’t usually write for such as Charlie, Valentino, Carmilla, and more.
Alastor
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Alastor fully understands disliking touch.
He will never pressure you to touch him because you do the same.
You will have to be in his general vicinity though.
He will float the barrier between too close and just far enough:
Overall, he is absolutely fine with you disliking touch because he’s rather the same.
However, after the battle, when he came back, he expected nothing more from you than than a nod and words.
He was surprised to be suddenly knocked down with the force of your hug, your arms engulfing his entire being.
He sort of laughs from shock, his laugh track playing in the background before his laugh escaped his lips.
Slowly wraps one arm around you as he uses the other to steady himself.
“Did you miss me that much, my deer?”
Husk
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Husk is a casually affectionate person.
He likes to hold hands and absentmindedly stroke down the length of fingers.
His hand will slide across someone’s back as he moves past them.
For you he made the conscious effort to not do that, no matter how much he wanted to.
He didn’t for you because he cared.
When one day you crawled over the counter and he looked at you confused.
Then, as you moved to slide off, you placed your hands on his shoulders and pulled him in for a hug.
His wings fluttered in shock, knocking some glasses over but he immediately began purring.
His arms wrapped around you so tightly, so protectively,
His wings covered your embrace from prying eyes.
He leaned his head against yours and then placed it in the crook of your neck.
He savored the moment.
Lucifer
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Lucifer is very well acquainted with having no touch but his own. He’s used to it at this point.
There’s a bit of sadness when he figures out you’re not a touchy person but he’ll live.
He yearns for your touch but makes due with the touch of others.
This man is touch starved.
He won’t admit it though.
When you just randomly wrap your arms around him, he makes a little “Oh!” noise.
“Is everything alright?”
He wraps his arms around you, loosely, not wanting to scare you away.
His touch is so soft, so careful.
“I just love you.”
He gets teary eyed and repeats the sentiment.
Vaggie
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Vaggie is not a very touchy person.
She’s not opposed to it but it’s not often she seeks it out.
She is alright not being touched by you.
It doesn’t bother her much at all.
Then you wrap your arms around her after she regrows her wings and her angelic background is reveal and she folds.
She needed this hug.
She needed to know that you were here and present and not going away.
She holds you with all her might.
Vox
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Vox pretends he’s alright without touch.
He doesn’t know that people can see him stare longingly at your hands, your waist, your shoulders, your face, just itching to hold them all.
When you do hug him, he’s hesitant.
“What’s wrong, doll?”
He doesn’t believe you when you tell him nothing.
He’ll slowly push you back using the most careful touch and just look at you, making sure it is, indeed, you.
After confirming you’re not an imposter, he places his hand on the back of your neck and pulls you in for a hug.
If you like what I’m doing consider commissioning me for canon/canon stories AND personalized canon/reader stories.
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redr0sewrites · 3 months
Note
Can you write Vox x reader where like the reader just says like really unhinged things and just like vile things whenever they rage and stuff like the internet could be slow or smth and the reader is just like “IM GOING TO RIP OFF MY SKIN” idk man I’m kinda just self projecting rn like you can right anything with it tbh idk sorry for rambling anyway you don’t have to do this if you don’t wanna
THIS IS SO MEEEEE I LOVE THIS IDEA SM!!! sorry it took me a hot minute to reply to this i have over 70 hazbin hotel requests in my inbox 😭
🥀Cw: fluff, crack, silly vox
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when he first met you, vox was charmed by your seemingly sweet nature- that is, until you were pissed
your unholy screech of how you were going to rip off your skin if he cut the wifi again was both endearing and confusing in his eyes
vox would just short circuit for a second, just blinking at you while he tries to process what you just said
once it clicks, he just starts giggling. vox very rarely genuinely laughs, most of his laughs are professional or part of the persona he adopts as the leader of vox enterprises, but when he's so shocked by what you just said, he can't control the booming laughter thay fills the room
he's wheezing and gasping, each barking laugh only pissing you off more
"what's so funny? if you keep laughing i am going to fucking break ur fingers like carrot sticks!" you snap, and vox only giggles harder
after a few seconds, you can't help but notice how adorable his laughter is, and soon you don't mind it as much
once you two are officially together, you notice how stressed vox often is, yet how he seems to visibly relax around you
the batshit crazy things you say, which normally disgusts other people, only seem to amuse him
its actually a wonderful dynamic because you bring some spontaneity and slight insanity into vox's otherwise irritating and depressing lifestyle, and vox balances out the crazy things you say and calms you down every time
you often find yourself searching for new phrases to baffle him with, and for new ways to make him laugh
after vox has a stressful day, he enjoys just listening to you ramble about the most insane things and adores hearing whatever fucked up saying you've adopted recently
vox notices himself beginning to copy your speech patterns. he only begins to realize when he slips in an exceptionally odd metaphor into a work meeting and everyone stares at him, yet his heart skips a beat at the thought
there's something so charming to him about the fact that he's adopting your mannerisms, and you truly make him laugh when no one else can
whenever another one of the vees pisses him off, he always comes to you for advice on incredibly deranged comebacks, and you never disappoint!
he's won multiple arguments by just repeating one of your fucked up sayings and the other vees being too lowkey shocked to disagree
vox LOVES IT when you diss people he hates, hearing you ramble some fucked up insults about alastor made him fall in love with you all over again
"that worm on a string fucked up karen cut bob looking ass- if i see him around here again im going to eat a fucking brick" *cue vox looking at you with the biggest heart eyes*
overall, you are both menaces, but you're menaces in love ♥️
vox lay with his head in your lap, the blue light of his screen illuminating the dim room as you rambled mindlessly about your day.
"and THEN, this fucking asshole tried to flirt with me! ME!! as if he doesn't know were dating! ugh, it makes me feel like i have an entire beehive living beneath my skin. i swear if he even looks at me again im going to lick wet cement i can NOT deal. how can you even work with him? he's such a fucking CREEP voxy, i'm going to cut off those ugly ass wings and shove them so far down his throat- hey, are you even listening?"
you look down to see vox half asleep, his eyelids drooping as his light dimmed. "keep talking.." he murmurs, looking up at you with a lazy smile on his face. "you're my favorite person t' listen to.."
i love the idea of vox with a partner who challenges his very idea of power. he clearly wraps himself in a sort of persona, surrounding himself with powerful people and acting like he's so serious and important. i love the idea of him falling in love with someone who can break down his walls in seconds, someone who can dismantle his entire bravado act and who allows him to truly be himself. this is such a wonderful prompt and i am eating this up. nonnie ur awesome!!!!
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priniya · 1 year
Note
hi lovie! could you do some percy (or leo, maybe both?? i love them sm hahaha) headcanons abt dating an aphrodite’s child?
I COMPLETELY LOVE THE IDEA OMG??? tysm for requesting anon <3
sorry if it’s not like you imagined it😭 it’s my first time with headcanons like that
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dating percy as an aphrodite’s child would include . . .
okay you all gotta admit that if percy could, he would brag about his partner being so beautiful that no one can compete with them
i feel like he’s at the university and some guys are talking and he just waits for a chance to show you off and be like “they are literally a goddess’ child”
BUT IN FRONT OF YOU??? he’d get so awkward even if you were dating for so long
also i’m 100% sure annabeth would sometimes point it out and laugh at the way he turns into a hot mess around you
but tbh you thought it was cute, cus let’s be real. it’s percy jackson, if you weren’t a hot mess around him as well, who would you be?
if you two are sent on a mission together, he rarely thinks about himself first, always making sure you’re okay before he checks himself
in his dorm he probably has pictures of you sticked to the wall in like a heart shape and his roommates might make fun of him for being such a simp but those photos gives him strength whenever you two are apart 🔥
he’s all in for that relationship, he even officially introduced you to both his parents and paul
you taught him how to braid hair and whenever you stay at his mom’s he braid his sister’s hair under your supervision ☹️☹️
when he started dating you he probably became such a gossip guy LIKE hear me out, he started paying attention to details and people’s behavior to talk about it with you
“you won’t believe what i heard today from piper.” “nah, she didn’t told me about it directly, her body language did.”, “i know right, how could he do that to her?”
he’s all in for the tea‼️‼️‼️
OH and also when you began dating he started paying more attention to jewellery and his outfits upgraded so much??
HE IS ALSO SO JEALOUS OF YOU AND HE KISSES YOU IN PUBLIC WHEN HE CATCHES A GUY LOOKING YOUR WAY
“i know you’re a child of aphrodite but these people gotta know i am your ares. or hephaestus.” “wait, am i your ares or hephaestus?”
dating leo as an aphrodite’s child would include . . .
this man is head over heels for you, and i know i said percy also is head over heels for his partner but LEO is on different level
he often drags you to the bunker whenever he feels like it and make you sit there with him, while he crafts something (mostly for you)
that man dedicates all his work for you, like
“oh this? i made it for yn cus they said [insert thing] fall apart so i just… did it.”
ngl he is kind of insecure that you’d left him for a child of ares just like your mother did to his father. even though you reassure him he’s the one on your mind, it still stings him sometimes
getting an approval from your mom wasn’t even that hard as you thought it could be. though she wasn’t exactly the most delighted you were in love with her husband’s child but… love is love right?
pet names in spanish ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
n you would pick it up and surprise him by calling him something in spanish <3
EVEN THOUGH he’s insecure about history repeating itself he jokes about it way too much sometimes 😭😭
brags to jason about you so much jason wants to off himself and i am not kidding
he once asked you to charm-speak him just to see how it feels
“what? don’t be like that, mi amor. i gotta know what’s your power’s like in case you do it subconsciously.”
(that’s literally the dumbest excuse you’d ever hear but didn’t care, considering it was your boyfriend who asked)
MANY people says you remind them of charlie and silena and when you heard it for the first time, you broke down crying because it was such a good compliment
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selarina · 7 months
Text
Gojo Satoru x fem!reader
Content Warnings: oral sex(f!receiving), exhibitionism Minors DNI
You’re resting your back uncomfortably against the bed. Your hair was mussed and your eyes droopy. Shoko almost feels bad for waking you up, but business is business.
“Hey,” Shoko walks in, a shadow against the faint moonlight seeping through the curtains. “Have you seen Satoru around?”
“Nope,” your voice, parched as your throat was, comes out hoarse and high pitched as you reshuffle the thick blanket over your legs. “Why would I know where he is?”
“Well,” she ventured as her fingers grazed the slope of her nose. “You two have been hanging out a lot recently.”
“We’ve all been hanging out a lot recently,” you murmured.
“Right,” she said, a hesitant nod punctuating her response. “In any case, if you do see him — tell him Yaga wants to see him sometime today. So he needs to stop ignoring him and answer his phone.”
"Understood," you managed, just about muffling a yelp.
“Also,” she say, contemplatively. You wish she would just leave soon. It was your fault for prolonging the conversation this far in the first place. Why’d you have to ask her questions?
“I’m only saying this because I don’t think I'll live long enough to see this play out but I’m pretty sure Satoru is in love with you.”
Your form stills, eyes widening, as a myriad of questions wait on the edge of your lips, waiting to just tremble their way right out. How do you know? How long have you known? Why? Did he tell you? Why?
But you think there’s no point if the man will refute the accusation just as quickly as they slipped out of her mouth.
“Make of that what you will,” she concluded plainly as she made her exit.
At the sound of the door hitting close, the weight beneath you starts to shuffle, causing you to let out a soft repressed moan.
"Satoru," you whimpered. "How can you just continue—"
“Weren’t you just begging me to make you come?” He looks up, his eyes alight, his lips glistening with the residue of spit and come.
"I never— Ugh. Did you not hear what she just said?"
“What about it?” he inquired, nonchalant, as he continued his ministrations unabated, peppering soft kisses ticklish kisses onto your stomach and your thighs.
You stared back, incredulous as he goes on and on, licking into your cunt. And he’s messy with it too, despite your many protests.
He never half asses sex, he had exclaimed with a grin, to which you often retorted — I wish you wouldn’t half ass the fucking dishes. You found an odd sense of joy in saying that, you thought you sounded like one of those old married couples, like you knew him for a millenniums.
“What do you mean ‘What about it’?” you asked, though the words trembled as you spoke. Were you even prepared to face the end of his response? "Are you...?"
“Am I what?” He looks back up again, his eyes a bit hazy as his hand comes up to wipe his lips.
His eyes flip back to your face, maintaining eye contact. “In love with me?” you ask, and it comes out as a mere whisper.
His response arrives swiftly, devoid of any hesitation. "Of course," he affirms, “You think I like to cut my sleep short just to put you to sleep?”
Your eyes go wide, gulping you speak up. “Yes... ?”
“No, stupid," he chides, his fingers reaching to pinch your thighs, eliciting a muted yelp from you.
He looks back at you now, his eyes droopy and low, his lips curved into a soft smile and his face beautiful, like the moon. He says, "I love you.”
"Really?"
"Yes, really," he chuckles. "Now, do you want to come or not?”
"Uh, yes. Please," you smile. "And Satoru..."
He hums, holding your gaze with an intensity that had been missing for as long as you knew him. And so, you say, "I love you too."
“I love you,” he repeats, and you think the more he says it, the more you can believe him.
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drchucktingle · 2 years
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favorite author i have never read
hey there buckaroos thank you for all the DEEP DISCUSSIONS we are having a great time here on tumblr. thought today i could make a post that is slightly more difficult its not all sunshine days ahead and requires a little introspection. LOOK AT US we have all arrived here together through trust and love and i think we can keep this going. chuck made this post on other platforms years ago and i think it was said very well then and led to some good discussion, so i am going to repost here. okay lets go deep bud here we go:
i would like to spend moment today talking about common joke i hear online (and even too my face at conventions). this is jokerman way i hear ALL the dang time: 'chuck tingle is my favorite author i have never read' or less jokerman way but of ‘i have never read his books but i love chuck tingle'.
first of all, THANK YOU buds. this is not way of call out post to make you feel bad, i appreciate your way and understand you are trying to support. this is not attack on your message and from bottom of chucks heart THANK YOU.
BUT i have to say something about this. please consider what you are saying when you post this. would you send this as message to STEPHEN KING or NEIL GAIMAN or NK JEMISIN? i doubt this. it would seem VERY RUDE to message other authors. just imagine trotting up to a writer and saying ‘i would NEVER read your books haha’ but it is sent to chuck all the dang time.
obvious reason buds say it to chuck is that i am queer author with a unique way. yes i write in realm of wild fantasy and erotic pairings, but by saying ‘i have never read chuck BUT' you are really saying 'i am posting my support of this but PLEASE DONT THINK I AM REALLY INTERESTED IN THIS PERSONALLY.' there are similar distasteful jokes that i will not repeat involving saying 'no bud on bud pounds' after a sentence that works in similar way.
is sexual art really that bad? is queer art really that embarrassing? is unusual outsider art really that funny?
it is one thing if your preferred pound is not one of chucks tinglers, that is TOTALLY FINE BUD, but if you are an adult i would say 'is it REALLY that scary to read a book about a way of sex that is not yours? is it that difficult to think that something that seems silly to you could actually MOVE YOU in an important way? do you HAVE to disconnect yourself from lgtbqia art with a 'but i don't read this myself?'
keep in mind, there are gay tinglers, there are asexual tinglers, there are trans tinglers, there are select your own timeline tinglers, there are horror tinglers. TINGLERS FOR EVERY TASTE. the thing that buds are often REALLY saying with ‘favorite author i have never read’ is ‘this is WEIRD and dont be confused because im NOT WEIRD IM COOL DONT THINK I ACTUALLY LIKE THIS’. funny enough even the proudly fun and wild and unique buckaroos will STILL say this line, maybe without taking time to think of what it means or how rude it is?
WHY would you never read a chuck book? because my way is queer? because it is neurodivergent? even if that is not there reason or even if YOUR ARE ALSO PERSONALLY QUEER AND NEURODIVERGENT TOO, think about what the joke is IMPLYING.
is sincerely enjoying something thats kind of unusual that difficult? do we really have to slather it in irony and ‘so bad its good?’ before reposting?
in closing as man name of chuck i will say you can still make this joke if you want buckaroos i know you are just having a good time proving love in your own way. i am not upset with you bud and i appreciate your support in any way you give it. there are some buckaroos who just CANT AFFORD tinglers and that is an important way i understand as well. obviously this conversation does not apply to those buds. but for the rest of us trotting along, MAYBE think about what you are really saying with this jokerman way first, and MAYBE try cracking open a tingler because you might be surprised. its not that scary bud. thank you for listening
being sincere is VERY COOL and VERY PUNK ROCK. i encourage all buckaroos out there to give it a try.
LOVE IS REAL
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tender-rosiey · 11 months
Text
“AND MY HEART SCREAMS: IT’S ALWAYS BEEN YOU”
— the moment dazai, chuuya, kunikida, fyodor, nikola, ranpo, and fukuzawa knew they wanted to spend their entire life with you
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DAZAI OSAMU: the moment he revealed his scars to you—scars that told of the past, details of the past, details that he thought he would never reveal. there were multiple outcomes, but his lonesome heart forced him to expect only one: you getting disgusted and perhaps even refusing to stay any longer. he wouldn’t blame you if you did.
so imagine his surprise when your eyes held nothing but sympathy and the utmost tenderness as you gently kissed his scars and whispered only one sentence, ‘I just wanted to be able to be by your side then’. what was he supposed to do other than pull you close and embrace you tightly, burying his face in your hair to hide a face that failed this once to master the mask?
NAKAHARA CHUUYA: when you went out of your way to prepare an unwinding night for the both of you. chuuya loves his with his entire heart and trusts with his entire being. and he sometimes doesn’t know just what to expect from people. so seeing you put so much effort into ensuring his happiness and your own had a certain hold on his heart.
he loves you unconditionally so when you responded to that love with the same intensity, he couldn’t help but gravitate towards you even more. he falls harder, but you’re there to catch him a smile. he approaches you, unaware of what will slip out of his mouth—a desire that has been on his mind for far longer that he thinks, “marry me,” he whispers, gentle and hopeful eyes looking at your own.
KUNIKIDA DOPPO: he is a man who sticks to his ideals and those ideals are to protect others not himself. it pained you, seeing him so ready to sacrifice himself to try and follow up to said ideals till the end. so you held his hand, crying about how you don’t want him to be so careless with himself and that your heart can’t handle seeing him choose his own death as a solution anymore.
he found himself breaking down and pulling you into a tight embrace, constantly murmuring ‘I am sorry’ with kisses pressed on top of your head and reassuring that he will always stay with you. your hold on him doesn’t falter as you feel his tears and he feels his heart getting even more fond of you, his dear true love.
FYODOR DOSTOEVSKY: entertainment is something he loves, but it surprises him when he can’t handle entertainment at your expense. when he goes through his plans, even when the most ‘fun’ option involves you, he doesn’t choose it. he finds himself unable to put you in danger he knows he can avoid.
he doesn’t fight the place you have acquired in his heart; instead, he goes to you and his head finds home on your lap. his hand caresses your own and he looks at you with longing like you’re the epitome of what he truly wants for himself. a gentle whisper of your name and you look towards him and he finds sanctity in your gaze. the true form of purity: your love that he succumbs to and accepts as a part of his being.
NIKOLAI GOGOL: when you showed him that you truly understand or even try to him. you don’t call him a maniac or a monster; instead, you smile patiently, heart open for him, and ask him to tell you more. and he does. words spill out of his mouth in an unbelievable speed, thoughts—a jumbled mess—are thrown into the air and you listen.
emotions—the shackles of humans—overwhelm him in a way that he is surprised that he doesn’t hate. His legs grow weak and he falls at your feet, screaming, crying, and repeating a mantra of I love you. when he does calm down, he takes your hand and puts it on his face. he is now held back by love, shackled by you. he knows and he—somehow—doesn’t mind. he just sinks deeper.
EDOGAWA RANPO: when you slept in the office, beside him, while he was planning their next move. it is not often that ranpo actually works. so, it wouldn’t have made him upset if you left because with all his confidence, he values your smile the most. but you stayed, you always did. ‘y/n, you can go back home you know,’ he had murmured, patting your head with a small grin, but you just told him to shut up and you cuddled closer to him.
it’s not the first time you hugged, but, for some reason, this certain hug had him tightening his arms around you before shouting about how he needs to get done quicker so his sleeping beauty can rest properly with an undeniably lovesick and joyful grin on his face.
FUKUZAWA YUKICHI: when you patted his head with a murmur that you trust him. in the eyes of others, it is ultimately meaningless and silly. yet, to him, that single gesture meant the world. and behind closed doors, he rests at ease, knowing his heart is in your hands.
he dotes on others like a strict father, yet when the same affection and trust is thrown at him, he can’t help but smile helplessly while you stroke his hair and pull him close. he also feels his heart set ablaze when he sees you laughing and pulling on his hand, wanting him to join whatever fun you’re having. and he follows you, like he always did and always will—with a smile so serene it tugs at your own heart.
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taglist: @magenta-cat-drawingss @pompompurin1028 @scul-pted @dazaisdeathwish @requiem626k @nameless-shrimp @shinys-bsd-world-1 @sonder-paradise @ravenina14 @jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @ginneko @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @starlostlaiba @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @dazaisbloodybandages @aeanya @sweetcloudsimp @moon-catto @the-midnightskies @pianopuppygirl @waosobii @nanamikentoseyebags
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copyright © tender-rosiey
do not copy or plagiarize or I will dislocate your shoulders
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miintsprigz · 5 months
Text
Mercs x GN! reader who drew them (ALL NINE!)
This goes out to everyone, not just my artists.
But yes, all my fic material is extremely self-serving.
Big thank you to a dear friend of mine for helping me with mercs like Pyro, Engie, Sniper, and Medic when I got stuck.
VERY LONG POST INCOMING
Scout
• Well, he IS an artist himself, that’s probably how the two of you first started talking.
• Ran past one day, only to immediately throw it in reverse and go “hey whoa whoa whoa when were you gonna tell me you could draw?!”
•Naturally…it was only a matter of time.
•He was always so encouraging about your stuff, so…after working up the guts, you showed him.
• “Yo wait a sec…you drew me??? I…” For once in his life, he’s at a loss for words. He’s never been drawn—not even a self-portrait. For as cocky as he seems…well…
•He just…stares for a second. Marveling. Is that…really what I look like?
• “Do you like it?” “Abso-friggin-lutely, (Y/N)!!! You kiddin’? I don’t even look that beautiful in real life! And ya know, that’s sayin’ somethin!”
•You laugh, and he pulls you in so fast to hug you that you weren’t even ready. “But seriously…thank you. I’ve uh…I’ve never been drawn before. You did amazing. …you know I gotta draw you now, right?”
•And he does. He’s a complete perfectionist about it—he feels like he can’t replicate you, you’re one of a kind. (He actually does very well! But he’s so shy showing it to you…d’aww.)
Pyro
•Pyro was more of a doodler than anything. They loved color. And of course, you could resonate with that.
•Sometimes you’d draw designs and let them color it in. They giggled all the while…they just adored how creative you were.
•Being the most secretive about their appearance, they’re hard to nail down…even for you. Pyro is most themself in their full gear. You, out of everyone, know that best.
•So you took a…different approach. Abstraction.
•Their hands, the ones that so often seemed to be magnetically drawn to you.
•Their back, the strong shoulders when they just felt content to sit in the quiet with you.
•The brief glimpses you’d caught of their face—split second instances in shadows—those were easy, yet challenging. Their brief sightings made them easy to be abstract about, and yet, it made them harder to actually nail down.
•Conjuring a rather fittingly smoky composition, it had a dreamlike feel to it. Pure Pyro.
•You were only a bit hesitant to show them, but when they did see…they surprised you a bit.
•You could see them straighten up a bit…surprised. They craned their neck a bit, looking closer, gently curling their fingers over yours to hold the snapshot-like portraits with you.
• “Hmmm…” There was a sort of…tranquility to them. So unlike your little sparky fella.
• “Do you like them?” Immediately, the edge of their mask bumped against your forehead—your own personal way of kissing. That was all the answer you needed.
•They couldn’t verbalize it, but…seeing beauty in images of themself. The same beauty they saw all around them��it made them see themself in a way they never had before.
•And of course, it made them fall even deeper in love with you, the one who cared for them so much that they took the time to look so deeply.
Heavy
•Heavy is a very intelligent man, but he’s never had much gift for creative work. Even his insults were kind of just the same thing repeated, when the other mercs made it an art form.
•So he couldn’t help but be enraptured by your artistic endeavors and how much work you put into them.
•He loved to see you covered in your medium of choice, your passion for it. Made him lovesick. How lovely you were doing what you loved.
•If he could paint, he would have wanted to paint that. So he could look at it forever.
•So of course, imagine his delight when you decided to draw him!
• That roaring laugh you so enjoyed boomed immediately, just elated.
•“Ohhhh…look at that! You captured me perfectly! Beautiful!” You couldn’t help but beam with pride.
•“Can Heavy keep this?” “Of course you can, hon.” This warranted a sudden barrage of kisses to your face, which cracked you up of course.
•“Very happy to have such talented artist as yourself to love. But to me? You are most beautiful. In all the world.” Despite being more eloquent in his native language, Heavy could still get you to turn red. “Oh gosh…” “Is true!”
Demoman
•Tavish had always been a pretty sentimental fellow. He really did enjoy artwork, but didn’t talk about it much.
•Once he discovered that you were an artist, he was over the moon. Finally, he felt, he could talk to someone about art without them possibly poking fun.
•He’d never go in your sketchbook unless you allowed him to, but he always looked with such admiration in his eyes. “That’s bloody brilliant. So long as ya luv it, never stop doin’ this. Cuz I’ll never stop lookin.”
•One day, you told him you had a surprise for it. “I dunno if I like surprises…” “Oh trust me, Demo,” you chirped, “I think you’ll like this one.”
•As you held up the finished product, his mouth went agape. Almost instantly, he began to smile.
•“Well aren’t you just the sweetest!! That’s me there???” “Yes, love. I uh, I hope that you like it.” His gaze shifted over to you, and you could see his eye had grown somewhat misty.
•Demo was at a loss for words. He had never thought of himself as particularly good-looking, certainly not good enough to be drawn. And yet. You had drawn him. Drawn him very well. And he liked how he looked. Was that how you saw him?
•“Aw, Tav…you okay??” He blinked quick, trying to keep composed.“Never better…c’mere, you…”
•Wrapping his arms around you, he gave you a kiss, just about taking your breath away.
•“My little artist…ya made me look so good.” You caught him rubbing his eye a bit. “I just drew what I saw.” “Well, ya see a work of art in me. And that? That’s the best surprise of all.”
Engineer
•With how much designing went into his machines, Dell could always appreciate the skills of an artist. So when he learned that you were one, well, that only sweetened an already sweet deal.
•You were a little self-conscious at first about him watching you work. You tended to just work parallel to one another, both lost in your own stuff.
•You’d sometimes stop what you were doing to follow his hands as he put the pieces together, fingers wandering as they looked for the correct tool.
•When the inverse happened though—when Engie watched you work—he admired your spontaneity. You could start off with a total wild card and somehow managed to pull it all together and make it work, in a way he never could have come up with.
•Being rather rigid in his own trade, that was something Dell couldn’t help but be dazzled by. Very smart man for sure, but rather by-the-book. Not like you. He saw genius in the way your mind worked.
•So, one day, as the two of you perused each other’s handiwork a bit, you shyly revealed the piece you’d made of him—hard at work on an updated sentry model.
•His lips parted a little like he was about to say something, but nothing came out.
•“I know it’s a little rocky…I’m not the best at drawing machinery.” Gently, he took ahold of the sketchbook and gave it a soft tug, nonverbally asking for permission to hold it. You let him.
•As he looked closer, a warm smile crept across his face. “Well, well…wouldja look at that. That’s me alright.” He chuckled heartily, but you realized it was from admiration, not amusement.
•“Look at you, (Y/N)! Saw me all covered in dirt an’ said ‘yeah, I can make art from that’. I love it…shucks, darlin’, I can hardly get my eyes off of it.”
•He looked back at you, still all aglow, only to find you blushing to the point of near luminescence. “Aw, c’mon now honey…no need to be all shy. You’re incredible, ya know that?”
•An arm slunk around your shoulders, pulling you fast to his side, quickly pecking the top of your head. “I love it, and I love you.”
Soldier
•Soldier was a brave man, that he was confident in. But even he was self-aware enough to realize he wasn’t the sharpest.
•Anything he’d ever drawn looked like kids’ stuff, so to see what you could make? It blew his mind.
•Jane tried not to stare while you drew—you’d gotten all nervous when you’d caught him, and he was trying to be courteous—but he couldn’t deny how it captivated him.
•“Whatcha workin’ on now?” “I’m drawing those two goofs.” You motioned to the Spy and Scout bickering as they often did. “Why them, of all things?” “I just like capturing the moment sometimes.”
•One day, as you sat while he drilled the rest of the team, you started to do just that. You found it hard not to chuckle just a little as the others groaned and rolled their eyes.
•Sure, you got their annoyance, but you couldn’t help but be pulled in by Jane’s excitement and hot-bloodedness.
•“Seemed pretty lost in your work there, or I woulda asked you to join in.” A strong hand ruffling your hair snapped you out of your daze. “Capturing the moment again?”
•“Uh-huh. I think this is my best one yet.” You turned the book around to show him, and you saw his lips part slightly in surprise before he suddenly laughed. “Haha! Look at that! It’s me!”
•You laughed with him, just happy to see him so tickled by it. “I think I really captured you.” “I’d say so, kid! I’d say so…wow.” The amusement gave way to what you realized was…almost awe.
•“I look…strong. Proud.” “Yep.” “…I look good.” “Of course you do.” He nudged his helmet down a bit with his hand, chuckling to himself. From what little bit of his face you saw…was he blushing?
•Imitating him playfully—it was something you two tended to do, he found it cute—you joked, in your best impression of him, “‘Are you going soft on me, maggot??? You’re red as a tomato!’” “Noooo…oh, (Y/N), what am I gonna do with you?”
•He caught the side of your face softly and pecked you on the cheek. “But…really. Thank you, sweetheart. I think that’s my favorite thing you’ve ever made.”
Sniper
•Truthfully, Mick had never given a lot of thought to the arts before he’d met you. What really caught his eye was the amount of time you put into it.
•Sniper knew better than anyone that holding still, completely focused on your task, being all but absorbed in it…that was respectable.
•The fact that he could leave for work and come back to find you in the same spot? It was just very attractive to him.
•You stopped by to watch him sometimes, very discreetly, on less busy days, although he wouldn’t lie, it got him nervous. He trusted in his own skills plenty, but…you weren’t just anyone. He couldn’t have you getting hurt.
•So one day, as he finally wrapped up, he saw you, still hard at work. He didn’t want to interrupt you, but if it was time to go, he wanted to go. Giving you a light pat on the shoulder, he chuckled. “Almost done there, darlin? Quittin’ time.”
•“Just a bit more…there. Perfect. Check it out.” You held up what you’d been working on: a full sketch of him invested in his own work.
•It took him a moment to process what he was seeing, but once he did, he couldn’t help but be amazed. Slightly slack-jawed, he looked up at you, the faintest trace of a smile.
•“Never considered myself the modelin’ type, ‘specially not out here, but…wow. Ya really did it. And I look bloody good, too!” “Well duh!” “Oh, stop—” Oh, that got him. The Aussie was surprisingly easy to fluster once he’d fully grown comfortable, and you loved it.
•“Awww, are you blushing?” “Just a little…now c’mon.” Taking your hand, he helped you up, quickly hugging you around the shoulders, catching you somewhat off-guard.
•“But really. Great job there. Thanks…it’s an honor, ya know that? To be drawn by you?” “Gosh—” “Heh, now you’re the one goin’ all red.” “Oh, stop—”
Medic
•The good(?) doctor first learned of your artistic prowess when he caught you trying to draw the charts he had on his wall. “Ooh! Very impressive.”
•Medic could do a lot of things, but drawing wasn’t really one of them. He couldn’t resist watching you work, even though he knew it was a bit touchy.
•“Poetry in motion, Liebe. Really.” Simp. “Oh, come on—” “I mean it! You have such precision, such grace…it’s a sight to behold!”
•So of course, when you were working on something that you absolutely would not let him look at, he wanted to see even more.
•“I promise that whatever it is, I will find it as beautiful as you!” “It’s not that, silly—it’s supposed to be a surprise!” He seemed almost sulky about it…it was kind of cute, although you did feel a bit bad.
•Eventually though, it was done—him, with Archimedes on his shoulder. “Okay, honey, you can look now.”
•One hand comes up over his mouth, audibly gasping. “Is that…? It is!!! Haha!”
•You had never seen him this happy, and you couldn’t help but smile. “You’ve really outdone yourself this time, (Y/N)! Look at that…and Archimedes too!”
•Perhaps unsurprisingly, he brings the bird out to show him too. It’s hard to gauge the response from a dove, but the tranquil cooing seems to suggest that he enjoys it.
•The doctor catches you off-guard as he sweeps you into a kiss. “Oh…danke, Schatz (treasure). May I keep this?” “Of course~”
•Best believe this man is showing your art off to EVERYONE who he treats, going on and on about what an incredible artist and person you are.
Spy
•This guy is a man of culture, he can appreciate good art. And good artists, wink.
•But in all seriousness, your attention to detail was incredibly attractive to him. After you’d been together for a while, the two of you would sit in his smoking room and relax together once the work day was over.
•Sometimes he’d be off to the side just doing his own thing, reading, but other times he’d actually sit beside you and watch. There was an intimacy to it, one you took time to grow fully comfortable with, but he was patient.
•So when you were very secretive one night, it caught his attention. Nothing slipped past him—not even you. You sensed him behind you surprisingly quickly though, and quickly closed the project up.
•“Shy tonight, are we? So unlike you, mon bijou (my jewel)…” “Hehe…be patient, babe, it’s not done yet.”
•His arms wrapped around you from behind briefly…gosh, it was difficult to keep anything secret from this man. “Very well. Keep your secrets…for now.”
•But he respected that you didn’t want him to see it just yet, and so he waited.
•“…Okay, you can look now.” In an instant, he was behind you again. It was hard to even look up at the guy right now, but once you did…there was this sense of wonder in his face that you hadn’t seen before.
•It wasn’t often that Spy looked at himself unmasked for longer than a few seconds—he’d almost forgotten his own face by now. For spies, he reasoned, it was better that way. But the way you had captured every detail of him…
•“Oh, what a handsome devil…wonder who that could be…” Was he trying to brush off his own flustering? Maybe a little.
•You couldn’t help but giggle as he almost hurriedly sat down next to you, quickly drawing you in close as he continued to look. Almost entranced.
•That element of intimacy I mentioned before? It was his turn to feel it now. Not even in a physical way, which is what this Casanova is so used to.
•No, the fact that you had clearly just…looked at his face, so intently. There was something raw and vulnerable to it. And as much as he wanted to look at it even more, his eyes were magnetically drawn to you.
•“I wouldn’t have ever asked it of you, but…I always wondered what it would look like if you drew me. I…”
•Glancing back down, he found that he couldn’t even come up with anything to say. The act of love had rendered him speechless. YOU BROKE HIM OH MY GOSH/j
•“…Do you like it?” Before you could say anything else, you were swiftly kissed, and I mean kissed.
•Spy always looked at you with a sort of passion, but this was different. He had never felt so much love for someone. Felt like a young, hopeless romantic boy all over again.
•“I adore it…and most of all, I adore you, mon cœur (my heart).”
AAAAND IM DONE. WHEW. That was fun!
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lovelynim · 5 months
Text
Thrilling Bet
Honkai Star Rail - Dr. Ratio x Aventurine
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A/N: I know it's WAY too early to write anything about these two, but that leaked LC is living in my head rent free and I needed to get this out of my head so... yeah.
Also, keep in mind this is written before official releases and they may be OOC.
Summary: Aventurine comes up with an interesting bet.
Word count: 1482 words
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“Ve~ri~tas,” Aventurine nearly sang, bursting into the room without the slightest care or respect for the other man’s privacy. Ratio closed both the book in his hands and his eyes, taking a deep breath. ‘Patience, Veritas, patience,’ he repeated inside his mind, remembering why he agreed to deal with someone like Aventurine in the first place and how they even ended up together.
Turning his head to look at Aventurine, Ratio gave the blonde a cold, piercing glare. “What?”
“Are you busy?”
“Well, I was rea-”
“Good, because I just happened to find out something really interesting and I’d like to share it with you, my dear Veritas,” Aventurine chuckled after promptly interrupting the other, placing his hands on Ratio’s shoulders as he stood behind his chair. “And I’m sure you’ll love to hear this one.”
“Could you not touch me so casually?” Ratio hissed, slightly flinching when he felt the touch against the bare skin of his left arm. “And, please, go straight to the point this time. I don’t wish to waste another afternoon hearing about your gambling adventures.”
“Geez, so cold, are you mad at me? You are so tense today, you need to relax ~” Aventurine insisted, returning his hands to the top of Ratio’s shoulders when the scholar tried to dislodge them. Aventurine pressed his thumbs, as if to give the man a massage while starting another of his monologues.
Ratio let out a small groan when Aventurine refused to stop touching him, but couldn’t help but feel a shiver running down his spine as that massage-like motion started. It was almost good enough to make him ignore whatever Aventurine was ranting about this time. Ratio hated to admit it, but Aventurine knew how to get him to do things, to get him in the mood. 
But there was a fatal flaw in this whole scene, one that not even Ratio’s most complex calculations could have foreseen. 
Aventurine’s touch felt ticklish. Not like a light tingle or a bothersome fluttering over his skin. It felt annoyingly ticklish. Enough to have Ratio gritting his teeth to avoid letting an embarrassing smile make its way to his face.
“Veritas, are you listening? You're way too quiet - even for you,” Aventurine called, bringing Ratio back down to his senses. Aeons, he was so focused on finding a way to ignore that feeling that he couldn’t even bother to hear that gambling addicted blonde.
“No, sorry. I dozed off for a second. You were saying?” Ratio muttered, letting out a sigh of relief when those hands finally stopped pressing into his skin. 
“Oh? Were my hands this good?” Aventurine teased and Ratio could hear the smirk in his voice. “My, I can always give you more if you want, handsome, you just need to ask nicely.”
“That was not- sigh. Suit yourself,” Ratio stopped himself, letting out what sounded like a confident chuckle, but it was only an attempt to hide what was really going on from Aventurine’s attentive gaze.
As someone who gambled that often, Aventurine had an amazing eye for details, noticing every little thing, catching all the signs and figuring out the meaning behind every sign one’s body could give. Still, Ratio also knew that man liked the palm of his hand and that there was a chance he could make it go unnoticed. “Anyway, back to the topic. What was it that you needed to tell me so bad that you couldn’t even knock on my door?”
“Oh, that?” Aventurine giggled, lightly tapping Ratio’s shoulders with the tip of his fingers, “I already forgot, it wasn’t that important.”
Uh oh.
Despite a calm exterior, Ratio felt like things were starting to drift from the path he planned them to go. It didn’t take a gifted intellect like his to figure out that something else caught Aventurine’s attention, that something aroused enough of his interest to put his ranting aside for a moment.
“You know, Veritas,” Aventurine started, stopping the massage and gently sliding his hand from Ratio’s shoulder down to his arm. Walking around the chair the scholar was sitting in, Aventurine took off his glasses with his other hand, eying the other man with a gleam in his eyes. “I actually wanted to ask if you wouldn’t have time to play a game with me. It’s been a while, no?”
Ratio crossed his legs, leaning back into the chair as he looked up to Aventurine’s face with a defiant, but uninterested look. “I could swear I told you I was in the middle of a readin-”
“Fantastic, so, it’s a simple bet, nothing ‘unreasonable’ this time, I promise,” Aventurine insisted, mimicking Ratio’s way of talking when using one of his comments about the blonde’s endless games.
“And if I agree, will you get yourself out of my room?”
“Maybe,” Aventurine grinned, squatting in front of Ratio and uncrossing his legs, resting each of his hands over Ratio’s knees. “Are you ticklish?”
“Hm? Is that your game?” Ratio asked mockingly, putting up a confident act.
“Not really, but it takes an important part on it. Because I could swear I saw you smiling when I was fiddling with your shoulders.”
“I’m afraid we are not on the same page.” Ratio sighed, resting his head on one of his hands while he considered the pros and cons of kicking that blonde away from him at that exact moment.
“Please, a man like you could have done better at feigning ignorance,” Aventurine smirked, slightly digging his fingers into Ratio’s legs. “Answer me, Veritas, are you ticklish? Because I bet you are.”
“Statistically speaking, every person is ticklish to some degree. It’s only natural for us to-”
“Nah-ah, I don’t care about statistics,” Aventurine interrupted before pulling himself a little closer, making Ratio freeze on spot. “I’m going all in on this one, Veritas.”
“...There could be a huge backlash if you lose this ‘bet’, Aventurine…” Ratio warned, hoping he could develop a way to sink into that chair in the next seconds. 
“And that’s the fun part, Veritas. There is no thrill if there is no risk.” 
Ratio could feel the heating spreading across his face when Aventurine looked at him like that. His heart beat fast and his thoughts crashing one into the other, giving him no logical solution for this situation. “That’s enoug- AGH!” Ratio squeaked like a dog’s toy when Aventurine quickly moved his hand and squeezed his side, his fingers digging into that exposed portion of skin and sending electric shooks up to his smart - but now useless - brain.
“Hah,” Aventurine laughed, “jackpot.”
“Aventurine, no. I’m seheheri- ah! N-nohoh!”
And so, Ratio found himself trapped against that chair, stuck between the soft cushions and Aventurine’s hands. The gambler didn’t waste a single second, using one hand to dig and stroke Ratio’s exposed sides while the other pinched the top of his thigh. “You know the drill, Veritas, I won the bet, so it’s only fair I get to enjoy my prize.”
“D-dohohon’t- ahAHah, t-take me fohohor one of yohohour stuhUHupid games!” Ratio managed to protest between giggles, holding into Aventurine’s arms as he tried to pry his hands off his body. “Now stohohop this, yohohou idiot!”
“Ah, as expected of you, Veritas, even laughing like this, you’re able to keep that sharp tongue of yours,” Aventurine mocked, dragging his nails against Ratio’s side and making the man’s laugh rise an octave. “But I have to say, your smile is as handsome as I expected. You don’t disappoint, do you? Heh ~”
“S-shuhush! AhahAHa, e-enohOHOhough!” Ratio threw his head back, taking as much air as possible to his lungs in a deep gasp before breaking into a renewed fit of laughter. He managed to get a look at Aventurine’s face through squinted eyes and - if the small tears clinging onto his lashes weren’t distorting his sight - he looked more amazed than ever. 
Ratio couldn’t remember Aventurine smiling like that even when accompanying him to his wild gambling nights. Was tickling him really this amusing for him?
In those short seconds he was lost in his thoughts, Aventurine managed to get a hold onto Ratio’s legs and sit himself on top of his lap. Now at a much closer distance, they could admire each other’s features: the rare sight of Dr. Ratio with a flustered expression and Aventurine looking dazzled by his new discovery.
“So,” Aventurine whispered, giving Ratio a break from the tickling but pushing him against the chair by his shoulders, keeping him pinned in place, “where else are you ticklish, Veritas?”
“H-hah…” Ratio wheezed lightly, closing his mouth shut before his lips curled into a grin, “take a guess, Aventurine. No, rather… make a bet. But you know better than anyone else that the higher the stakes-”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever… I just want to see that handsome smile again, Veritas. It’s worth the risk.”
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