#dear mrs kennedy | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

xxacademy · 1 year

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tender

husband!leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: succumbing to injuries inflicted by a B.O.W you fight the mental and physical battle to recovery. meanwhile, your husband does everything in his power to support you.

any leon timeline works, except re2. i did have older leon in mind though <3

a/n: inspired by lil a snippet from an anon request, find it here. anyhow, i love how this turned out, i was 🥺 writing it. pls lemme know what you think <33

content//warnings: depictions of blood & injury, hospital setting, non-graphic description of an IV, pain medication, y/n is used ONCE, pet names (dear, sweetheart, honey), hurt/comfort.

harsh white light wakes you revealing an image of horror. your trembling hands painted with your own dried blood, hooked up to an IV and a pulse oximeter. dazed, you know you’re in pain, but it’s not registering. it’s like you’re floating, possibly in a dream. a bad dream. but the reality of your condition is enough to confirm this is in fact not.

there’s a small group of medical staff standing at the end of your bed, talking quietly amongst each other. “the bloodwork came back, she’s not infected. all though the acid is wreaking havoc on her immune system, sending it into overdrive. the patient needs to be monitored for at least another two days.”

one of the nurses walks over to check on you, first, he looks at the monitors at your bedside, then goes to place a hand on your forehead. he notices you’re waking up, your heavy-lidded eyes focused on your hands.

he calls the doctor over, who pulls a chair up next to you. “hey, how are you feeling?” her voice is soft and calm.

“w-why am i here?” you mutter shakily, unable to make out much more.

“you sustained serious injuries on an extraction mission against a bio-organic weapon. you came in contact with its lethal acid, which is primarily why you’re here. your ankle is broken and you have puncture wounds in your arms.”

you’re still fixed on your bloodied hands, images of what you endured flood back. it was so intense- the last thing you remembered is a sharp talon-like claw piercing your upper arm. it all went fuzzy after that.

“you had surgery early this morning, and we have you on a morphine drip to help with the pain. please let us know if you begin to feel ill.”

you respond with an unsteady nod.

“you’re gonna be alright.” she smiles sympathetically.

another nurse comes into the room walking directly to the doctor. their speaking is hushed. “doctor, there’s a man here to see the patient. he says he’s her husband.”

“we can’t risk exposure from an outsider, we can’t have visitors yet.”

“he seems antsy.”

“well, assure him that she’s okay”-

the room is dead silent, so you can rather clearly make out what they’re saying.

“bring him in.” your voice quivering.

their heads turn, giving you a look of disappointment. similar to the one your mother gave you as a child. a sullen expression of remorse when she couldn’t afford to buy you new toys.

they do not want to hold your loved ones away from you. but it’s what has to be done. after all, it could mean life or death.

you sigh. you’re in no place to put up a fight.

“i’ll talk to him.” the nurse whispers. leaving the room.

“i’m sorry mrs. kennedy, you’re just not in a well enough state for visitors yet.”

you respond with yet another dreary sigh. fidgeting with the ring finger of your left hand.

your wedding ring is missing. you know you were wearing it prior. you’re always wearing it. sometimes you would loop it around a necklace chain, but you didn’t before this mission. surely it was on your finger.

“-doctor” you whisper.

“yes mrs. kennedy.”

“do you have my wedding ring?”

your tattered and blood-stained belongings were placed in a biohazard bag. a nurse picks up the bag feeling through the plastic for a ring.

“it’s not in here.” the nurse admits, a touch of anxiety in her voice.

“that’s okay.” you exhale.

it’s not okay. your beautiful diamond ring was more than just a pretty thing. it was one of the only sentimental pieces you coveted so highly. hand-picked by leon, it was a symbol of his undying affection. despite all the odds pinned against your love.

wanting to cry, but your bloodshot eyes are dry. the medication numbs you enough to let the pain run by, but you still feel broken, physically and mentally.

the hours pass as you bob in and out of sleep. your wavering limb’s finally settling. nurses and doctors are always present, constantly checking your vitals.

the next day two nurses come to bathe you at your bedside. gently wiping the sticky dried blood from your skin. the other trying to get it out of your hair.

“thank you, i mean it, thank you,” you whisper, fighting to keep your eyes open.

it was a relief. the sweet, metallic smell was driving you crazy. it felt itchy and uncomfortable against your skin.

…

leon hasn’t left the hospital. confined to a chair in the waiting room for the last day and a half. constantly flagging down staff for updates on your condition.

“she’s doing really well, the blood transfusion took perfectly.” the nurse smiles reassuringly.

“does that mean i can see her?”

“not yet, but soon.”

leon sighs. “well anyways, thanks for the good news.”

he sullenly returns to his chair. the stress and lack of sleep painting his under eyes dark. in his grasp is a picture you two took together, one he always carries in his wallet. it was taken a few years ago and you’re kissing his cheek. it’s the only solace he can find in the depressing waiting room.

leon had fallen asleep for the first time in over twenty-four hours. slumped over in his chair, chin resting in his palm. he jerked awake when his chin slipped. it was dark outside and the lobby eerily quiet.

3:47am

leon walks to the front desk heavy-footed and groggy. “my wife, y/n kennedy, is she okay?” his voice is grave.

“yes sir, she’s sleeping- and everything is looking good. but, you should get some sleep too sir, it’s gonna be a while until she wakes up.”

“-thanks.”

the pain of not being able to see you cuts like a knife. leon can't stand the image of you suffering and alone. but he’s borderline delirious from the sleep deprivation. he returns to his chair, lays his legs out across another, and falls asleep.

leon is jolted awake by a nurse tapping his shoulder. it’s morning- warm sun seeping through the windows and the smell of fresh coffee wafts through the lobby.

“do you need me to move?” he asks, still half asleep. voice deep and raspy.

“oh no mr. kennedy, your wife is on the right track to her recovery. you can go see her now.”

…

you feel much more alert, the daze the blanketing your apprehensive thoughts finally lifting. they switched you onto a far less invasive medication, which was probably helping.

it’s been a week since you’ve seen leon, and about two of those he’s been here, but just barely out of reach.

whenever the nurses praised you for the progress you made- you jump straight to asking if you're well enough for visitors. In your defense, it’s been unbelievably hard going through this journey alone.

the door creeks open, a very common occurrence of your stay. but instead peaking through the door is your blonde-haired husband.

you immediately start to cry- tears welling up and streaming down your cheeks. leon tears up too, casting a glossy filter over his blue eyes. he delicately wraps his arms around you, careful not to inflict any more pain. and you bury your face into his chest, immediately staining his shirt with your cry.

“i missed you, leon, i can't believe you’re here, i’ve missed you so much.” you sob.

“it’s really you, you don’t understand how much i’ve missed you, dear.”

you take your time, relishing in the comfort of your husband's arms. he gently rubs your back, consoling you with his touch.

“how're you feeling?”

“ugh okay, i guess. my whole body hurts and i can barely move. but the doctors say i’m improving- so yippee” your deadpan tone emphasizes how exhausted you are.

“that’s what i heard. and look, i know it’s been hard, but i’m so proud of how strong you’ve been, sweetheart.”

“i love you.”

“i love you, too” leon squeezes his embrace around you a little tighter, gently kissing the top of your head.

you smile, the first one in a while. but it quickly fades. “leon, can i tell you something.”

“of course you can.”

you fidget with your hands pressing your face deeper in his chest. “i lost my wedding ring- i think it was during the mission. i’m so sorry.”

“is that really what’s on your mind right now?” leon chuckles.

you look up at him with, tears streaming down your face. “you do understand how much that ring meant to me.”

“of course, i know, dear. but how can i care about the stupid ring if the wife i thought died is actually alive and in my arms?”

leon wipes the tears from your cheeks, his hand cupping your jaw. “i promise i’ll make it up to you, okay?”

“okay.” you say sniffling your runny nose.

with a big yawn, leon stands up raising both arms up into a stretch, his shirt lifts up slightly showing off his abdomen. “i’m going to find your doctor, see when you’re coming home.”

you smile. it’s nice not being alone. you feel bad knowing leon anxiously waited at the hospital for days. but there’s an unfamiliar warmth in knowing how much he cares. leon had always cared about you- before you were even dating. that’s one of the many reasons why you married him. aside from the ongoing list of shared interests- he’s so protective, it’s one of his beautiful ways of loving you.

leon comes back to the room, “looks like they need to run more blood tests, make sure that acid is out of your bloodstream before you come home.”

you’re totally spaced out, it feels like you haven’t even had a chance to take in what’s happened to you. it’s all become a blur, taking in the moments a second at a time. you were so worried about the details it almost failed to compute that you were nearly infected by the very thing you swore your life to rid of.

like a time release valve finally triggering; anxiety washes you cold- it could have been the end. leon would have been widowed, and all your friends would have been at your funeral. your mind is playing devil's advocate. what if i don’t get better? are the doctors just hoping i stay positive?

“are you okay?” leon’s bloodshot eyes are nearly aching with concern.

“i’m scared.” your chest is sinking deeper with each anxious breath.

“why? why would you be scared?”

it may not make sense to you now- but having leon there was a sort of reality check. alone, you just survived. with him, everything has weight.

“i dunno… i just want things to be okay. i want you to be okay, i want to get better.”

leon rushes to your bedside, holding your hands in his. “but it will get better- you’re doing better, so much better! i’ll be there every step of the way. i promise you.”

you take a deep breath in an attempt to calm yourself. trying to hang on to his words.

you sob, absolutely overcome by emotion. “i love you, leon. thank you for being here, thank you for everything you’ve done.”

a nurse knocks at the door but you don’t let go of leon’s hand.

“mrs. kennedy- so sorry to intrude. but the doctor wants to do a scan of your ankle. is that okay?”

you wipe the tears from your face, trying to compose yourself.

“yes, of course, that’s alright, thank you.”

leon whispers “you got this, dear,” before standing up and sitting in a chair by the window.

…

leon has done everything possible to make the next few days easier for you. like ordering takeout and watching your favorite movies with you. serving as a distraction while you recover.

it certainly worked. he’s good at keeping you calm, and the energy light-hearted. you didn’t even think it was possible, given the grim reality of your circumstances. but somehow he can have your eyes filled with tears, giggling with laughter.

four days you’ve been in the hospital, and today is your last one. you’re able to stand up and the effects from the B.O.W are finally gone. granted you still have a long journey to recovery, at least you can go home.

…

after the agonizing hours of travel, you make it home. leon helps you into the house, guiding you to your bed. “i want to take a bath, i feel disgusting.”

“i’ll draw one for you, you want it now?”

“hmhm” you nod.

“sure thing, sweetheart.” leon tenderly kisses your forehead.

he runs a hot bath, adding a little lavender soap, just the way you like it. he walks you to the tub and helps you undress. he holds your hand as you shakily step in, slowly adjusting to the hot water.

“god my first real bath in a week, can you believe it.” you sigh, sinking your body in the bubbly water.

leon chuckles, “i know, you poor thing, those nurses really tried their best to help. but it’s never the same, is it?”

“…especially considering i was covered in congealed zombie guts”

leon laughs, “but look at you now, covered in…” he pauses to read the name on the soap bottle “…lavender dreams”

you both giggle, in love and delighted by each other's company.

“okay, i’ll leave you to it, holler if you need anything.”

…

“leon! will you fetch my bathrobe!” you yell from the bathroom. you hear his feet patter across the hardwood, “coming."

you stare at your reflection in the mirror as you brush your wet hair, inspecting the scars, bruises, and stitches that litter your body. it feels like you came home to a different person, a body you’re now unfamiliar with.

leon peaks through the door. head cocked to the side. “everything alright, baby?”

“i don’t know- it’s hard to wrap my head around it. i-i feel off.”

“c’mere i got something to show ya.” leon swoops you off your feet carrying you in his arms.

“what are you doing?” you giggle wrapping your arms around his neck.

“you’ll see.”

he delicately sets you down on the couch in the living room and sits next to you. he fumbles around in his pocket pulling out a little black velvet box.

“leon-honey, oh my god, what is that.” your eyes are round and doe-like, your bottom lip beginning to quiver.

he opens the box, presenting it to you as if his hands were a clamshell, revealing a glimmering ring set in pearlescent white satin.

“for you- i know it was hard losing the ring, but that one was beaten up anyways. you deserve something a little nicer.”

tears swell, gathering in the inner corners of your eyes. chocked up and rendered speechless, you mouth the words, i love you.

he reached for your trembling left hand, sliding the diamond wedding ring onto your finger.

“i love you, most.” he beams, the words fluttering with tenderness.

“i-i love the ring, it’s beautiful-truly. but how’d you do it?”

“do what?”

“get a new ring, you were with me the entire time…?”

“i have my ways,” he smirks, planning on keeping that little secret to himself.

leon holds your hand, admiring the way your hand looks adorned by his diamond ring.

“remember when we got engaged?” he muses.

“of course i do! you took me to milan, i should have known you were going to propose.”

“you have the same look in your eyes as you did then.” leon swipes his thumb along your cheek, smiling to himself, gazing into your eyes.

“and you’re as smooth as ever” you look at him through your lashes, pupils wide. “but really leon, thank you, means more than the world”

“you are my world.” his soft lips meet yours, kissing you gently.

somewhere in the crystal pools of leon’s eyes, you find the hope you were looking for. his unbreakable faith in you, alongside his never-ending acts of love, is reassuring.

hell, it’s not going to be easy, but at least you're not alone.

⭐️tags

@yourgentlegirlfriend

#academy fics✨#thank you for reading <3 #leon kennedy #resident evil #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon x reader #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy x you #leon scott kennedy #leon fluff #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy hurt/comfort #hurt/comfort #husband!leon kennedy #wife!reader #leon kennedy x fem reader #resident evil fanfiction

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cybunii · 2 months

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HIDE AND SEEK

“Let's play a little game and have fun”

a/n: so glad this is finally finished >< I do have a part two planned but I have NO idea when that would come out. this is the longest thing i have written so far- pairing: Leon Kennedy x GN! Reader tw: stalking, dub/non-con, slight mentions of somnophilia, intercrural sex/thigh fucking, gaslighting, murder and drugging, Leon is a prick :3, obsessive and manipulative behavior, possible kidnapping, etc.

It was safe.

You lived in a relatively small town, and never seeing any reports of kidnapping or murders on your TV made life easy to live. The worst things to happen were food shortages because of the slow drivers, or maybe the power going out because of the awful storms.

You never had to worry about anything. You worked at the little grocery store on the corner, going between the deli and the floral department when needed. After working there for years, you knew everyone who lived there, eventually knowing their names and where they lived. You had made it a point to talk to everyone you saw, wanting them to feel welcome and seen, it was just a small habit you picked up.

It wasn't the most exciting job in the world, but it was nice to be able to pay rent and have a routine. The days when partners would come in gushing about who they were buying flowers for were your favorite, let it be birthdays, holidays, or just a random event. It made your day, and you weren't even the one receiving the flowers.

It seemed like you were the outcast in the town, not because no one liked you, but because you didn't have kids or a partner. It didn't bother you about the kids, you were never too fond of having them. Cute, but not for you. The partner subject was a harder thing to explain, you were used to living and being alone so it didn't bother you much.

You always thought of that as you made the arrangements, the feeling of someone putting their heart into making something so special for you.

This puts you to right now, placing together an arrangement while Mrs. Green talks about her grandkids. You often wondered if she actually liked them with how much she complained about them. They were bad kids though, and got into trouble every week.

“…And of course Parker has to follow in Taylor’s footsteps and tear up the place, knocking over my expensive vase- the one you got me for my birthday-” She explains, covering her mouth as she realizes what she said. “Oh dear, I’m so sorry…”

You shake your head and put on your best fake smile, holding up a hand to ease her worries.

“It’s quite alright Mrs. Green, you know how kids are.” You shrug, but internally your wallet dies. You hunted for that vase for hours, finally getting one on sale for roughly $260. Damn those kids.

She wraps up the conversation maybe a few minutes later, rattling off some reason about cooking her famous chicken again.

You lived next to her and smelled whatever she cooked while you had your windows open, if the smells were any indication, she was a damn good cook.

I mean anything smelled good to you. You weren’t a 5-star chef or anything, but you could cook decent meals. Better than the college route of sandwiches and noodles. Those were the days.

It doesn’t take long for the day to end, only having a few people working in the store meant shorter closing hours, and getting to go home earlier than most was a perk. You walk out after closing up, locking the door, and practically crashing into Mr. West, basically the head of the events committee for this town.

“Woah! Be careful there sweetheart.” He said, chuckling like he wasn’t the reason of you almost falling on him.

“Sorry, what’s up?” You asked, actually interested this time. The last time he planned something, the entire town showed up, it was one of the most exciting things to happen in this town in a while.

“Well, I came to formally invite you to the little get-together I’ve been planning for the new neighbor, I want to help make them feel welcomed here.” He grins, clasping his hands together as he talks, I guess that makes sense, everyone here knows each other so a new person joining may feel out of place, almost like a new kid joining a new school. Possibly horrifying to experience.

“A new person? Where at?” You ask, not seeing any empty buildings near your house. Then again it had been a while since you last looked, and the Gold family has been strangely absent.

“Right on the corner, lil white house with the blue shutters?”

You nod in acknowledgment, suddenly knowing where that one is and frowning at the fact.

That house has been abandoned for years, I mean long before you even moved into your little place. The blue didn’t look as vibrant and the white was a sad and dirty grey.

The inside of the house is just as run down as the outside was. Broken furniture litters the house, most have fallen from their resting places and piled up on each other. The walls are cracked and the floor is covered in dirt and grass that have grown inside the house.

“Ah, yeah. That one…”

Mr. West nods, almost uncaring about the state of the house. “Yup, been meaning to sell that house for ages. Nice to see some new meat round here.”

“Guess so, but I’ll be glad to take you up on that offer. What’s the details for it?” You ask, taking out your phone.

He practically swats your phone away, shaking his head in disappointment. “Ah don’t worry about that old thing, I got letters to send out, you’ll see it when it arrives!” He bids his goodbyes and quickly walks off down the sidewalk, assuming he’s knocking on the door of your neighbors next.

On your journey back home, you take an extra second to look at the house, it being the same way you remembered it. You thought they’d at least try and clean it up, but maybe the person isn’t here yet. The mailbox at least looked new, a nice shiny baby blue color, the black numbers on the side reading “205.”

If first impressions mean anything, the entrance having some pop to it makes it easier on the eyes and matches the house too.

But something about the house seems off. You can't put your finger on it, but something feels...wrong about it.

But maybe that's just the strange aura the abandoned house brings. You continue the trek to your house, thinking about the invitation that the city council member gave you previously before reaching your street. The quiet road is mostly void of any human activity, with the occasional leaf floating down on the wind and the birds fluttering through the air.

Having no information on it so far makes it hard to plan anything out, especially if the letter gets sent too late.

You stop in your tracks at the small glimpse of color resting on your doormat, squinting your eyes at it and deciding it’s too far away to actually tell what it is.

You make small strides to your front porch, your pepper spray in hand when you pause, almost laughing at the fact that you almost pepper sprayed a bouquet of flowers. You frown and pick it up, the display of flowers similarly close to the arrangement you made earlier that day.

You suspiciously inspect it with squinted eyes, turning it around before finding the note secured by a ribbon that’s wrapped around the middle.

“Thought you deserved these more. <3”

That’s nothing short of weird.

Not only did the note have some sort of…stain on it, the handwriting is damn near illegible, barely being able to read the poorly attempted cursive on the small note.

You don’t even know who sent these but it already seems annoying. No return address and no name means there’s someone too shy to approach you, a loser in your eyes. Could be a cute loser, those are fun.

You shrug it off and walk in your house, flowers in hand as you place them on the kitchen counter, scouring your cabinets for a vase that’s suitable for them. You know it’s your work, just strange on how it ended up back in your hands. You grab the glass from under the cabinet, putting fresh water in it as you trim the bottom of the stems, carefully setting them in the vase on the counter. You’d have to pick up flower food later, but you can always do that tomorrow, not like you don’t already have a shift at the grocery store in the morning.

It’s a weird, possibly fucked up scenario, but It’s almost sweet in a way. Maybe in a school girl way, with your crush or secret admirers sticking notes or love letters in the slots of your locker. Grinning as you show your friends, the ecstatic look on their faces as they encourage you to go over to them, to thank them or ask them out on a date.

You’ll have to think of consequences later.

But now? You’ll happily sip your drink and stare at the flowers, daydreaming about who could possibly be your secret admirer.

The next day at work is just as boring, but this time your manager Beck did assign someone to your department, so now you’ll only have flowers today. She is in the office today, and you being her favorite employee, she often hangs around, picking up scraps and putting together some of the orders.

“You hear about the new guy?” She asked, lazily throwing together another order of red roses.

New guy huh? Guess Mr. West didn’t mention who the new neighbor could be.

“Somewhat, already got an invite to that huge gathering West is planning.”

She scoffs, rolling her eyes at the mention of both the gathering and West. They were together at some point, could be rumors, but you can’t deny seeing her knuckles turn white on occasion as she clenches her fists together. Just hearing about him must make her angry.

“I heard. Can’t wait for that.”

“It won’t be so bad, maybe it’ll be nice to get the town together again. Especially for the all-famous new guy.” You offer with a shrug, knowing you could care less about all of it.

It’s not like you hated the poor guy right off the bat, but with every conversation being centered around him? It makes him seem like the next Jesus Christ. With even you knowing about him, the entire town is probably waiting for his arrival. And you know these people, already have assumptions based on his name, of which you don’t even know. You’d almost feel bad if you didn’t already have your own assumptions.

He better live up to the hype, or these people will eat him alive.

“…you know, I actually saw him when he was touring the house,” Beck says with a grin, and you already know the look on her face. She’s a romantic at heart, can’t really blame her.

“Oh yeah, panty-dropping?”

She laughs and rolls her eyes, but you know it’s true. She’s attractive, but her college days will never leave her. You cannot forget the drunken stories she’s rambled to you about them practically lining up outside her dorm, and honestly? Good for her.

Only action you get is from whatever you watch on television, or recently that weird-ass admirer situation. You keep your mouth shut about that, not that you don’t trust her, but she’ll make it a much bigger thing than you need right now. The last thing you need is more attention for this weird display of affection.

“Well, he’s kinda tall, intimidating but has a cute baby face- Oh! And the most gorgeous blue eyes I’ve ever seen.” She smiles, practically glowing red.

“Sounds boring, there’s like a million of those already.” You shrug, crossing your arms after putting down the completed order.

“This one is different! There’s something about his eyes, he’s mysterious.” She nods, a mischievous expression on her face.

“Right, I’ll see for myself whenever this party happens.”

Beck waves you off with her hand and goes into the break room, maybe to smoke again, it has been a while since her last break.

It’s been a while since your break as well, and no one is near the counter, and you’ve finished all your orders for today. What harm could a break do? You follow in her footsteps and walk back to your locker, opening it and sifting through your bag. After a few moments you forget what you’re looking for, but the lack of your lighter makes you pause.

Very small thing, but still noticeable. You step outside and eye Beck up and down with a suspicious look, squinting your eyes at her.

“What?” She asks, blowing out the smoke.

“Did you grab my lighter? It’s gone.”

She raises an eyebrow and shakes her head, pulling out her bright yellow lighter. “Nope, got mine right here. Anyone else smoke?”

“Nah, just us. Damn, I liked that one.” You feel your pockets one last time and lean against the wall, now having to buy yet another lighter.

“How do you keep losing yours?” She laughs at you, and you shrug, not like you have any idea. You have a good memory but misplace the small things, you think it’s only natural.

“No clue, maybe I’m being haunted.”

The woman laughs again and shakes her head. "Haunted by who? A ghost with something to gain from you? I heard that is an incredibly rare phenomenon."

It doesn't seem crazy, in fact, the idea feels...plausible. The spirits that haunt this area are mostly vengeful, but that still doesn't explain why they would send you things. What would a vengeful spirit have to gain from giving you gifts?

“Yknow, I’ve got this other guy, names L? Supposedly runs a business catching ghosts, people eat that shit up. He’s basically swimming in money.” She nods with a serious look, pointing her finger at you.

And? Yeah okay- Sometimes you can’t tell if she’s actually serious or just fucking with you.

You don’t offer up a reply, instead staring at her with a disappointed look. She shrugs in response, taking a drag off her cigarette.

She continues smoking, blowing out a puff of grey smoke that wafts up and drifts away in the wind. It has a pleasant smell, the scent of flowers and honey-like fruits. It is soothing. The woman's expression remains as nonchalant as it was previously.

“Might head in, heard someone at the counter.” It’s cutting your break a few minutes short, but not like you can do anything else.

Have to add that to your list of things to do later.

Care about the consequences of keeping the flowers, buy a new lighter, and use your break time wisely.

You make a mental note of those three things. The rest of your shift goes as smoothly as expected, though you have a nagging feeling that there is something off about the house you saw earlier. That feeling, mixed with the strange gifts and Beck's strange comment has your mind racing.

That night you had to close late, the customers obviously not understanding closing hours. You get people need food, but they could’ve cleared their schedules or something- Maybe even get there the next morning when you first open. Beck couldn’t close because her cat sitter said he got sick, so she had to rush home and get him to the vet- which is unfortunately hours away.

You make your rounds through the store, jotting down the few things that need to be stocked in the morning. And also make sure no one is trying to stay overnight, kicking those people out is the worst. The last time someone had hidden in the break room, practically scaring the poor new girl to death, she didn’t stay long after that.

A small clang gets your attention, the sound only being noticed because of the dead silent- and hopefully empty store.

Two things could happen here, either someone is here and fucking with something, or it’s an animal of some kind.

You don’t want to deal with either.

You unhook the pepper spray from off your belt, gripping it in your hands like it may fall, almost like a greedy spoiled kid with anything. Unable to let go, and won’t without a good reason.

Your reason?

Nothing being here.

You stalk around the corner with quiet steps, frowning when you hear the small taps of your shoes as they carefully touch the ground when you walk. Damn these shoes and this slick ass floor. You’re hyper-focused on any noise that your ears can pick up, but of course your brain has to imagine hearing footsteps all around you. Another clang has you looking towards the break room, now registering the sound as the locker opening and closing. Walking towards the sound makes your heart race, the loud thumping beats filling your head as you take more and more steps towards the room.

Rushing around the corner has you panting and hyperventilating, aiming your pepper spray at the lockers - seeing a masked figure quickly slip out the back door, completely dressed in black.

You run after them, knocking the door open and running into the parking lot. After a quick and very thorough search, it was like they disappeared. There’s no one walking or anything, only the sound of the wind filling your ears.

A quick walk back to the break room and you’re searching the lockers, praying that they didn’t steal or break anything. Everything is perfectly fine, until you step towards your locker. Nothing seems out of place, but your gut tells you something is in there, something’s wrong.

You take a deep breath and swing the locker open, squeezing your eyes shut so hard you start seeing shapes. Nothing popping out at you has you opening your eyes again, glancing down at your once empty locker with an expression of disbelief- and maybe a small hint of…disappointment?

It’s your lighter. A small note attached to it reading, “Sorry :(“

…

What?

You know it’s whoever gave you the flowers, I mean they find your house, your workplace, and locker, steal your stuff, and then return it?

You were barely angry about it, only annoyed, and that’s all it took for them to give it back to you? Especially in the weird way that they did.

They had to be nearby to hear that conversation you had with Beck, whether outside or inside the store. But no one being there makes you pause.

It makes you wonder how long they’ve been watching you.

The chill that runs down your spine and makes your entire body shiver makes you consider finally setting up those security cameras around your house. You may not be able to do it at the store, but damn this stalker being able to free-roam your own house.

Makes you consider buying another weapon as well, pepper spray is temporary at this point, people can still fight with their eyes closed.

It being almost midnight puts a stop to enacting any of your plans, you'll just have to invest a pretty penny in the morning to get those cameras, then spend the entire afternoon planning out and placing the cameras around your house.

Even if you are the only one to see the footage, the thought of having cameras watch you is almost creepy in a way. Like an instant goosebumps kind of feeling. Just gross, can't explain it.

A quick walk back to your house has you calming down some, despite it being night, the street lights do good work to light up the streets, and hearing the small buzz come from them is soothing in a way.

You stop by your mailbox first, your morning shift crossing with the path of the mailman's schedule. A glance through the letters and you stop at the bright pink one, immediately knowing it has the details of the gathering.

Ripping the top off and skimming through the small writing makes you want to crumble the letter up in your hands, just tossing it out into the street. Of course, it's tomorrow, well technically today since it's well past midnight now.

The only good part is that it's around five, which gives you time to sleep and prepare some weird side dish. It's much better than trying to pick out a gift for the random guy, that's a hair-pulling kind of stress that you definitely dont want to deal with right now, or ever.

That night you actually managed to have a full night's rest, no randomly waking up or any nightmares to scare you half to death. The bright lights peaking through your blinds make you immediately cover your eyes, stretching your legs out and hearing the small pops.

Sitting up makes you jolt a bit, and the sudden realization of something wet between your legs makes you groan. A quick look under the covers has your mind reeling, it's definitely not your period, and it's all over your thighs and underwear.

You dont remember having a dream that good to literally come everywhere, let alone have it look like this. Tossing your clothes and sheets in the washing machine and taking a hot shower has you relaxing and not paying any attention to it.

You have better things you need to worry about today.

The letter only contained the dishes already being brought to the event, a small note at the bottom explaining to try and bring a dish everyone can eat. Could be easy enough, you could just go to the store and grab a fruit plate or something. Doesn’t take much time to get and is somewhat inexpensive.

Plus-

Everyone knows this main event is not about the food.

Around roughly 4:45, you pull up to an awfully crowded building. With most of the parking spaces being filled and people having to stand outside due to the inside being packed, you dont have high hopes for a stress-free night.

These people are good people, and you get along with them just fine. But having to be at an introduction party is the worst. Having the same conversation over and over again isn't exactly your idea of fun.

And with how many people are here?

You should practically have sorry on speed dial anytime you may bump into someone, I mean- god forbid you dont apologize for what they did. Of course, everything is fine, you might explode if someone elbows you again but it's all chill! Complaining and daydreaming have you slowly exiting your car, fruit plate in hand as you try to find the food table.

A reunion. Always something to complain about, whether the food is too dry, the children are annoying, or the awkward moment when that one neighbor drinks too much and starts to talk about his latest conspiracy theories.

A lot of families have those members you wish you didn't know. But, hey, that's the price you pay to be related to someone.

And two conversations later you finally set it down 20 minutes later.

You glance up at the poorly taped banner on the wall, holding up a nice welcome greeting.

Leon, huh?

Puts a name to the face you haven't seen yet.

There's something ominous in the air about party's dedicated to a single individual.

Maybe because everything is out of your control, with every person here dedicated to making the honored person the center of attention.

Of course, that is exactly why he might enjoy their party. But for a newcomer, it feels like being thrown into a lion's pit, surrounded by a pride of unknown beasts.

In moments like these, you wish it was just a normal party, where the stakes were lower, and the random people and neighbors were your friends.

It's not that they're rude people. You're just more of an introvert, wishing you had some kind of anchor for yourself, a familiar face or a friendly voice.

Beck hasn’t even shown up yet, leaving you standing in the corner watching the others, sipping on a champagne that tastes like perfume.

You push yourself off the wall and crash into someone, the champagne spilling all over your neck and outfit, the sounds of their apologies drowned out by your thoughts.

The smell of spilled champagne fills your nose, and the apologetic sounds from the stranger fills your ears. You are sure to apologize as well, as the liquid stains your clothes and spills onto the ground as well.

The stranger seems nice, though unfortunate that the two of you crashed into each other, and both of your outfits are now wet and sticky.

The stranger doesn't seem very upset or annoyed by your spilling your drink over them, and you apologize profusely.

A moment passes, and you lock eyes with this strange person. The two of you laugh, the embarrassment fading away as both of you realize that it was an unfortunate accident.

Both of your attention is focused on each other now. The two of you lock eyes, and you can't help but notice how attractive this stranger is. It’s not about his overall appearance or personality, it’s the eyes that are drawing you in. Like a siren call, they practically pull you in, drowning in a sea of the most beautiful blue shade you’ve ever seen.

“What an awkward first impression, kinda ruined that. I’m Leon, by the way-“

He chuckles, extending his hand out and shaking yours with a firm grip, the feeling of rough and calloused palms against your own is almost calming in a way.

“I’d stay and chat for a bit but I should get cleaned up…” You chuckle awkwardly, gesturing towards the champagne that nearly drenched you.

“Ah, I am sorry again. I should’ve paid more attention.” Leon frowns, looking you up and down, almost analyzing the mess he made of you.

A quick nod and you’re off to the bathroom, staring in the mirror as you dab your neck and chest with a damp paper towel. The odd but familiar scent of the towel fills your nose, almost like a wet stale cardboard smell.

You toss them in the trash when you’re done, admiring your appearance in the mirror before stepping back out of the bathroom. As you step out of the bathroom, your eyes are quickly met by the stranger you met earlier. Leon seems to be making a quick beeline towards you, the two of you catching up after the awkward spill.

Leon eyes you with interest, his shy but flirty demeanor becoming increasingly obvious to you. “You clean up real nice.”

You feel your cheeks flush at his comment about you cleaning up nicely. It seems that your efforts paid off after all. You didn’t dress up for him, let alone dress to impress. But god do those words make you happy.

You smile at him, unsure of what to say next. He seems a bit flirtatious, which is certainly intriguing.

You can't help but feel your heart pounding like it never has before. The two of you lock eyes for a moment, and your breathing grows shallow as you take him in fully.

He stands a bit taller than you are, his dirty blonde hair framing his face just right. The way that he stands gives you a sense of security, and his expression is one that speaks volumes. The lights reflected off his soft features, almost making him glow. Maybe Beck was right, he may be average, but there’s something else there.

There is something intriguing about him, something that attracts your attention, almost begging you to investigate more. While he might be average-looking, his presence is anything but, and you are sure to discover what hides below the surface of those gorgeous eyes.

You find yourself caught in conversation with Leon for so long, that the moments start to slip away as you talk away the night. The feeling of being energized is almost invigorating, as the two of you laugh and enjoy each other's company. It's hard to imagine that only the champagne is causing the buzzing feeling in your body, it is certainly more than just that.

The night continues on, and the two of you keep talking, enjoying each other's company. The more you engage in conversation, the feeling underneath your skin starts to grow almost intense, and it becomes harder to ignore it, or how you feel about this stranger. You can’t tell if the pounding in your head is because of the alcohol or him, his gaze towards you sending chills down your spine, goosebumps trailing their way down your arms.

Leon seems to notice something is off, and the expression he presents is one of concern. "Is something wrong? You look sick..."

It takes every ounce of willpower to keep yourself collected, and your shaking heart under control. "It's nothing, just had too much to drink... maybe," you finally say, giving a half-smile and trying not to show how nervous you are.

You can't help but feel your heart beating like an angry drum. You're almost certain that he can see the signs of your drunken affection for him, and you are sure to grow more and more embarrassed with every passing moment.

It seems like Leon is trying to offer support, but to you, this just feels like a game of hide and seek, each side trying not to show their cards too early. A cat and mouse chase, the game only ending when the other party gives in.

“I’m fine, promise.” You wave off his concern, swirling your drink around in your glass in an attempt to focus on something other than his face.

"Okay, if you're sure..." Leon says, his tone expressing that he sees right through your bluff.

He seems to notice you trying to distract him from the situation, and his expression softens slightly. He seems to pick that up, and the conversation continues.

You can't help but feel a tad bit awkward, so you focus on your drink to avoid looking at him. The swirling glass keeps your vision occupied, but your mind is still focused on the face you tried to avoid.

The conversation continues, and there is little to distract you from the awkward situation between you and Leon. The buzz has only grown more intense, almost making it hard to think straight at moments. Your heart is beating and your mind is reeling, tiny specks of black spotting your vision.

“I’m gonna get some fresh air,“

As the words begin to leave your mouth, his features shift to one of confusion, disappointment, and hints of something else that you can’t quite place. "... you're leaving?"

"I'm just...." you try to reply, but the words get caught in your throat. "I'll be back, just need some fresh air," you finally manage to stammer out, the expression on his face adding fuel to your lie.

He only nods in response, and you stagger off to the exit, trying to escape the overwhelming feelings flooding you.

You rush past the other partygoers, ignoring their looks and questions as you try to escape to the privacy of your car. The air is refreshingly cool compared to the crowded party inside, and you can finally breathe. You don't bother leaning against the wall, and instead make a dash for your car.

The freedom is refreshing, and you open your car door to find a quiet space where you can collect your thoughts. You still feel a weird mix of emotions inside you, but in the car, you have some time to calm down.

The drive back home is a surreal experience, as the intense feelings of embarrassment and concern start to settle in. You get home and flop onto your bed, letting the plush pillows and soft blankets ease your mind as you fall asleep in a matter of minutes.

You fall into a deep sleep, but the feelings still linger. However, the soft embrace of sleep makes the feelings more bearable, and you finally allow yourself to rest.

The hangover is the first thing that hits you as you wake up, along with the pounding of your head and the aching pain in your body. Itchiness washes over you, feeling like a lingering reminder of the previous night. No wonder you woke up with a headache, considering the amount of alcohol you probably put away last night.

The little bit of alcohol seems like it affected you more than it should have, given the fact that you aren't a lightweight. Why did you have such a strong reaction to a small amount of alcohol? Was it the stress of the situation, or was there something else going on?

You take the pill killers and swallow the cold water with some difficulty, the scratching in your throat making it difficult to swallow. You hope and pray that the pills will kick in soon, as the pounding in your head is unbearable.

The feeling of the pills finally kicking in makes the headache much more tolerable and the itchy feeling under your skin shifts to something slightly less unbearable. You still feel the heat beneath your skin, and you know that the strange feeling hasn't gone away, but it's certainly become more manageable.

As the pills take effect, you're able to gather yourself for a shower. The hot water pours over your body, and it's heavenly. Not only does it bring the pain of your hangover down to a much more bearable level, but it even helps to calm the strange feeling that has been creeping underneath your skin as well. The heat from the water feels divine, and you find yourself lingering in the shower far longer than you intend to.

You step out of the shower, all clean and dressed with a light snack eaten. The lingering effects of the strange feeling are finally bearable, and you're ready to face the world again.

You leave your house and make your way to the hardware store, hoping that they will have the security cameras that you're looking for. The walk there is pleasant, and the breeze is helping to clear out the last bit of the strange feeling you experienced the night before.

As you enter the hardware store, you are relieved to discover that they do, in fact, carry the security cameras that you're looking for. The person working there is super friendly and knowledgeable, helping to guide you to the right section of the store.

It's nice to be able to get some answers about what happened a few nights ago, and the purchase will certainly make you feel safer in your own home.

You're staring at the two boxes, considering one white shade or the other, when a familiar voice breaks your concentration. It's Leon, and it seems he followed you to the store?

He seems to recommend one shade over the other, and you take his suggestion to heart. The ghost white seems to suit the color of your walls much better, although the seashell has a nice pinkish hue to it.

"I'll take the ghost white, then," you say, and turn to give him a smile.

“What are you doing here?” You ask as you turn around, spotting his empty basket in hand.

"I, uhh..." he falters for a moment before continuing. "I was actually headed here to buy some things as well." He gestures to the store, but his eyes seem to be fixed on you instead.

He seems to have something else to say, but he's hesitant. You get the feeling that he's trying to find the right words, and he seems to be avoiding making eye contact.

“I hope you find them all right, they seem to have everything here!” You quickly reply, snuffing out any hint of awkwardness.

He seems to relax a little, as if relieved to shift the topic away from anything tense. "Yeah, they really have everything here. They've got everything I was looking for."

The awkwardness between you seems to have faded, and you feel a bit more comfortable. The conversation is back to being a bit lighthearted, and it feels like a weight has been lifted off of both of your shoulders.

You bid your goodbyes and walk back to your house, holding the bag of freshly bought security cameras in your hand. Hopefully, they’ll blend nicely into your walls, Leon seemed to think so.

You arrive back home with the two boxes of security cameras in hand and start to consider how to best set them up. You quickly decide the two outside and one in your bedroom, with the last remaining one being a bit of a mystery.

The living room would be a natural spot, but it's pretty open, and doesn't really make sense to have a camera there. The kitchen and dining room are an option, but those rooms could be considered too far away from your bedroom to really be effective at helping your paranoia.

You sit there for a moment, considering options of where the last camera could go. There are so many rooms, and so many different areas to consider, and you can't help but feel overwhelmed.

Finally, you make a decision. The last one will go in the basement, and the basement could use something to watch over it. The basement is an eerie place, with a large variety of odd and old items. The basement is not the neatest place in the world, but that works in your favor.

You just make sure that it isn't pointed directly at any one thing, but rather in a way that you can watch everything.

You download the app on your phone, which allows you to view all of the cameras at any time. The basement camera is running smoothly, and the stream is clear. You can see the entire room at all times, though you can't detect any obvious signs of intruders or anything out of the ordinary.

It's a relief to have the cameras installed, and the house feels a bit more secure.

Back upstairs, you toss the empty box and paper away as soon as you return. You won't need the physical reminder anymore, as the code is easy to remember.

You sit on the couch and feel a feeling of peace wash over you. The cameras are set up, and the inside and outside can be monitored now. It feels comforting, and you hope the cameras will help deter any intruders from targeting your home, or better yet- whoever that one person was.

A few days pass without any issues, and you feel your stress levels ease. Each peaceful day that goes by brings relief, knowing that the cameras are doing their job and nothing strange is going on.

It's weird to think the strangest thing to happen is tourists flirting with you at your job, it's the truth. Every time you have to deal with one, you wonder how dumb they can really be. You wish you could smack them with the bouquets you sell, and make them regret ever coming over to your counter. But of course, you can't because that's not "Customer Service Friendly.” Ugh.

You almost start to forget about your worries, and life seems to return back to normal. The cameras are doing their job, and it seems like everything has been sorted out.

Leon has become a frequent person in your life, and you find yourself seeing him in almost every place you go. It seems that your paths often cross, even when you aren't necessarily expecting it.

Despite your issues with Leon earlier on, he has turned out to be an alright person. He hasn't done anything malicious like you had assumed, and he seems to be an honest person at this point.

Beck still hasn't messaged you or anything, so it's been quite lonely without anyone to talk to. Leon has been the only person keeping you distracted from loneliness, and it's kind of refreshing to have someone new to talk to and hang out with.

Getting to know him in such a short time has been a bit of a surprise, as he's shared quite a bit with you.

You learn about his life as a retired police officer, that he lives with a German shepherd named Lola, and that he currently doesn't have his family. The only other aspect about him that you haven't learned yet is his romantic life.

It's certainly understandable that he would keep his romantic life to himself. You don't go around advertising the fact that you're single either, so you get where he's coming from. It's just a private part of someone's life, and it's not something that needs to be discussed unless it's brought up by the person directly.

It feels like there's more to him than just the police officer part, the German shepherd, and the lack of family. You kind of feel like there's more to the story when it comes to him.

Which leads you to now.

You had invited Leon over for dinner, hoping that the house setting would make him feel more comfortable to open up and share more with you. You don't know what it is about him, but there's definitely more to his story than just his career and lack of family. He has some kind of wall around him, and maybe the more peaceful setting of the house will help him relax and share more.

The doorbell rings, signaling the arrival of Leon. You take one last glance in the mirror, making sure everything looks perfect before heading down to answer the door. You open the door, greeting Leon with a smile and leading him inside.

The dining area is all setup, a delicious meal waiting on the table. The candles are lit and the mood is quiet and peaceful. The smell of the food you cooked wafted through the air, mixing with the warm and light scent of the candles.

Leon seems to be a bit sheepish as his eyes reach the table and linger on the candles and expensive dishes. "You didn't have to do all this for me..." he says, his tone of voice soft but a bit anxious.

You smile and reassure him, "Don't be ridiculous, It's nothing. I just thought I'd make you a nice meal. I've been wanting to cook for someone, and it seemed like a good opportunity."

He seems to relax once you assure him, though he still seems a bit nervous. He is not used to this, the kindness that you're showing him. It's more than what Leon is used to. He almost looks uncomfortable.

You take your seat at the table, motioning for him to take his as well. The candles light the room with a warm and dim glow, adding to the pleasant atmosphere of the dinner. Leon sits down at the table, looking at the food with a bit of a smile. He looks nervous still, but there is some kind of small enjoyment on his face. The dinner looks inviting, and Leon seems to be slowly growing comfortable with the situation.

You continue to chat over the delicious dinner, and the conversation flows smoothly for both of you. Leon is enjoying the food and seems to actually be enjoying the conversation. It's the first time you've gone this deep into your friendship with him, and you can't help but feel glad that he is enjoying this night so far.

You both finish eating, and you start putting away the food. You're now standing at your sink as you start washing the dishes, Leon coming over to help and washing the rest of them.

"Let me help you with that, I don't mind at all," Leon says, taking the dishes from you and helping to wash them. "I'm used to doing housework, so I can help finish these with you."

You feel a bit of resistance to the idea, wanting to handle it on your own. But, it seems like Leon is not accepting refusal as an answer.

Instead, he is taking the dishes from you and helping to wash them himself. There is a sense of kindness and politeness in his voice as if he is offering a helping hand, and you can't bring yourself to deny him. You're not exactly sure what you did to deserve this level of kindness, but you're certainly not complaining.

"Well, thank you. I appreciate the help," You say, giving in and washing the dishes alongside him. "It's no problem really," Leon says, washing the dishes. The two of you scrub away at the dishes, and for a while, there's nothing but the sound of clattering dishes as the water washes over them.

Leon seems more comfortable now, and you notice that he's smiling a bit more as the dishes are cleaned. He does seem a bit restless though, unable to stay still for a long time. Messing with his clothes, bouncing his knee, fiddling with the dishes. The silence is peaceful though, and it's nice to have this small moment with Leon.

You glance over a few times and see Leon's gaze landing on the sharper cutlery, and you notice that he seems to be running his fingers along the sharp edge as if he is contemplating something. It's like he's considering whether or not he should be allowed to use those utensils, as if they're forbidden fruit or something. You can't help but feel a bit uneasy about the way he keeps looking at them. You watch cautiously as he continues to run his fingers along the sharp edge as if testing it out. There's a bit of worry in your mind when it comes to letting him hold these knives, as he seems to be entranced by them in some way. The thought of letting him get near them is making you feel a bit uneasy, but you don't want to be too controlling and tell him he can't touch them.

You hesitate for a moment, wondering if you should say anything at all, but your worry over the situation is too much for you to let go. You finally ask, "Is everything okay?"

Leon stops and turns to face you, his attention returning to you. "Hmm?" Leon hums, and you notice he's snapped out of the trance he was in. "Oh, yeah, everything's alright. I'm just cleaning the knives," he says, holding one up and scrubbing it.

You furrow your brows a bit at that comment, not wanting to push it further than that. If he says things are alright, then you might just have to take him at his word. It's no use pushing it further if he seems to be content, and you don't want to make things awkward or uncomfortable now.

As you finish up your portion of the dishes, you head over to the counter to dry your hands off with the hand towel. You keep glancing over at Leon, and he's still washing the dishes too. You're feeling ready to rest, but it seems like Leon is just finishing up his portion now. You watch him for a few moments as he finishes up the cutlery, wondering how much longer he'll take.

"I really do want to thank you." Leon suddenly says, the shift in his tone causes you to freeze a little bit, your brow twitching slightly at the ominous undertones it brings with it. You wonder what could have caused this change in the tone of his voice. The sudden seriousness that has come over him is unsettling, and it's almost as if he sees you in a different light now.

"You've been so nice to me, I can't help but feel touched," he says, still looking down at the dishes he's cleaning. This shift is alarming, especially with the way he's not even looking at you anymore.

You laugh awkwardly, trying to pass off his words with a joke. "No need to get all sappy on me," you echo back, hoping that he'll laugh along with you.

"Just wanted us to talk more, have a nice dinner between friends…" You repeat back in an attempt to be lighthearted and not make the situation too awkward.

"A friend, hm?" he says, finally taking his eyes off the dishes and looking up at you now. His gaze is almost piercing, and you can feel that he is studying you with his full attention. The way he's looking at you now makes you feel exposed, almost like he can find some hidden flaw with just one glance. His stare is almost piercing, and you feel like you're being studied from every angle. You wonder what he sees when he looks at you, and what he could be thinking right now.

"Well, we are friends," you reply back, feeling quite uneasy with the way he is looking at you. You don't like the way he's studying you like this, as if he's trying to find something wrong with you.

"That's what I've considered you as this entire time," you continue, trying to keep the sour feelings at bay.

Leon's gaze shifts and his entire demeanor changes in a jarring way. One moment he was focused on the dishes, and the next he was looking at you with an intense gaze that sends chills down your spine. You stare back at him with hesitation, and in just a split second you can't help but feel an overwhelming sense of uneasiness wash over you when you see him looking at you like this.

The silence between you two is thick as you stare at each other, and it's as if everything else in the world has stopped. You can't help but feel a sharp feeling of nervousness building inside you, making it feel almost as if you're in the presence of danger. You can't place exactly what changed about him, or what caused this shift in his demeanor.

His laugh echoes in your ears, but the low and rumbling sound only serves to further distress you. This whole situation is unsettling and it's making you question everything. The whole time you thought you were simply having a nice dinner with a friend, but it appears the situation is a bit more intense than you thought.

"Is that what you think this is?" he asks you, raising an eyebrow.

"This friendship?" you ask, and you feel a bit taken off guard by the question. You stare back at him, your eyes narrowed slightly in suspicion.

"What do you mean?"

"Is that what you think this is?" he asks again, and this time his tone is darker. You can't help but feel uncomfortable with the way he's looking at you when he says those words. It's as if he's challenging you in some way, and the vibe of him seems to have changed.

You can feel a mixture of confusion and anger wash over you as you narrow your eyes at Leon. You feel like he is implying something different, and you don't like it at all.

"That's all I think you are at the moment, nothing more," you reply, trying to keep your cool. You don't like the way this conversation is going, and you don't want to get too frustrated and ruin everything.

"Well, I'm sorry if you aren't satisfied with that outcome," Leon replies, his tone taking on a more ominous feel to it. Your confusion is growing at this point because everything he's saying seems to carry a deeper message. "But I dont think you understand what you're saying..."

"What do you mean by that?" you reply, feeling like the conversation is getting a bit intense now. The way he's talking has taken on a more ominous feel to it, and you can't help but feel a bit uneasy now.

"I dont understand what I'm saying?" you echo back, looking at him with a cautious expression. You're not sure what he means by that, but you're starting to get a bad feeling in your gut.

"I think you're just confused is all." He replies nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders.

You can't help but feel a moment of frustration when he replies with a casual shrug. Was he just messing around with you? Was that threat in his words supposed to be some kind of joke?

"Confused?" you repeat back, but there's a bit of a frown on your face now. You're starting to feel more than just a bit confused, as he seems to be toying with your emotions. You're not sure what game he's playing at, but it's starting to bother you.

"Okay, I dont understand what's going on here. But I'm not comfortable with you being in my house anymore, I think you should leave." You say, shaking your head, shifting your weight back and forth as you speak, the motion soothing you.

He seems taken aback by this sudden dismissal, his expression darkening somewhat as he looks at you with a look of surprise and something else. It's like he's trying to hide his anger, but you can't help but feel the threat of it lurking in his eyes.

"I'm not leaving," he replies, his tone shifting back to one of arrogance. He doesn't care that you're not comfortable with this situation, instead, he's demanding that this conversation continue.

You feel like you're being backed into a corner, and the thought of being forced to engage with this anymore is making you feel uneasy.

"I said you should leave." You repeat yourself, doubling down on your decision.

"No, you should think things through and realize that you want me here." He says, his tone shifting from one of arrogance back to a threatening aura. It's a bit unsettling how quickly he shifted to this, with such a demanding tone. The conversation shifts in tone once again, and he is back to being arrogant and demanding. He doesn't plan to leave just because you told him to, and you're starting to feel uncomfortable with being in this situation with a person so hostile and unyielding.

You quickly size him up, your eyes widening when you spot the tightly gripped knife in his hand. The sudden change in his attitude and that tight grip on the knife make all the pieces click together for you, and suddenly everything makes sense. Your instincts take over, and you become alert to being in a potentially dangerous situation.

Leon notices your shock and tries to take advantage of it, lunging at you with the knife, aiming for your stomach. The sudden lunge catches you off-guard, and you flinch at the action. You can't help but start to feel a rush of fear as the knife aims for your stomach.

You react quickly, dodging out of the way and punching him square in the jaw, sending him flying towards the floor.

You scramble away and run as fast as you can in the direction of your bedroom, closing the door behind you and locking it tight.

The adrenaline coursing through your veins makes your heart beat faster with every step, and you can feel your breath coming out in quick, shaky breaths.

You look around your room in a frenzy, using your new found strength to push your dresser in front of the door. You’re sure any police officer knows how to pick a lock, especially the basic ones that are in these old houses. In a panic, you try to find a place to hide and scan the room for somewhere to hide, your eyes landing on your closet.

You move toward the closet, and you're careful to open and shut the door slowly. The inside of the closet is dark and cramped, making it feel more creepy than comforting. You try to ignore the feeling of claustrophobia that is creeping into you, and you duck down as you pull the door closed behind you.

The moment you duck into the closet, you hear the sounds of footsteps rushing up the stairs. You realize that your bedroom is the last room in the hallway, which means it could take him a while before he reaches you.

But, he's going to get to you eventually and you start feeling a bit of panic in the back of your mind.

Would anyone find you when he reaches you? Could you be recognizable to the poor neighbor who finds your body when he’s done?

You begin to get more and more anxious as the footsteps draw closer, the tension and fear of waiting for the inevitable reaching a fever pitch.

You sit there in the closet, hiding and waiting in the darkness. You know that the longer this goes on, the more danger you're in, and you can't help but shake slightly at the thought.

You hear the slam of the guest room's door as it burst open, followed by the quiet sounds of rustling that fill your ears as he searches the room. It's an eerie noise, and it sends shivers down your spine as you realize he's getting closer to you. You clutch your hands, trying to keep your breathing quiet and steady as he gets closer.

The silence is overwhelming, as you try everything you can not to make a sound. You hold your breath as you hear Leon searching in the bathroom now, the rustling sound of the curtain pulling back catching your attention, your racing heartbeat growing stronger and louder as he gets closer. The tension is building, and the thought of him finding you is causing you more distress than you would like to admit.

You can hear the chuckle of Leon's voice as he reaches your bedroom door, and you hold your breath even tighter. He's getting so close now, and you can feel yourself starting to tremble with fear. His voice carries with it a sense of dominance and arrogance, and you can almost imagine the smirk he's giving you right now.

You clench your fists tightly as you hear Leon's voice talking to you through the door.

"I know you're in there. Why are you hiding? Do you think it'll help you?" he says, his voice sounding smug and superior. He sounds like he's enjoying this situation a bit too much, and your heart starts pounding in your chest as you hear the confidence in his voice.

The silence is almost deafening when you don’t respond, and you sit there listening to your rapid heartbeat and your slow breathing. There's so much tension in the air, and you feel like your heartbeat is going to explode out of your chest.

The silence lasts for what seems like an eternity, but you close your eyes tight, hoping that he'll just give in and leave you alone. And, it seems your prayers are answered, and there's only silence for a few moments before the sound of footsteps heading down the stairs makes you sigh of relief.

You sit in the closet, letting out a sigh of relief when you hear the footsteps heading down the stairs instead of coming toward your closet door. The tension is starting to ebb slightly, and you feel an overwhelming sense of relief wash over you. You feel like you can finally breathe again, and you start to slow your breathing as you try to calm down.

The sound of the dresser scraping against the floor escapes your notice as you try to take deep breaths and calm yourself down. You miss the sound of the footsteps moving toward the door, letting your heart beat faster as you bury your head into your hands. You miss the subtle noises that would have warned you of what was coming.

When he rips open the closet door, you let out a sharp gasp and freeze, staring up at him in fear as he stares back with that smug expression on his face.

"Found you."

word count: 10k

If you wanted the dinner to go differently :)

#cybunii #leon kennedy #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy angst #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy smut #suggestive #dead dove do not eat #dead dove fic #leon scott kennedy

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dmitriene · 6 months

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hi~ may I request a cute fic with fem reader and Leon where their daughter who’s like 4 is a flower girl for their friends wedding, but she really doesn’t understand what’s happening so when she walks down the aisle she sings Happy Birthday?? 🫢 thank u

꒰𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘰! 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘤𝘶𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵, 𝘪 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘴𝘰 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘭𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘤𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘥, 𝘩𝘢𝘩𝘢, 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘭𝘭 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘪 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘪𝘵! 🤍 ˑ༄ ꒱

❝𝗧𝗜��𝗟𝗘❞ 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨. ❝𝗖𝗢𝗡𝗧𝗘𝗡𝗧❞ 𝘪𝘯𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘥𝘢𝘥 𝘭𝘦𝘰𝘯 𝘬𝘦𝘯𝘯𝘦𝘥𝘺 𝘹 𝘮𝘰𝘮 𝘧𝘦𝘮 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳. ❝𝗧𝗔𝗚𝗦❞ 𝘱𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧, 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵 𝘯𝘰 𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘵, 𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘴, 𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘤𝘶𝘵𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴.

✎ 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵. 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘴. 𝘢𝘰3. ˑ༄

The sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm golden hue on the picturesque city outside your window, a light breeze rustled and the air was filled with a soft scent of freshness, it was a day filled with anticipation and love, and you couldn't help but smile as you looked at your beautiful family.

You and Leon have been through so much together, endured horrors that most people couldn't even imagine, but today you were here to celebrate another love, a love pure and joyful, because earlier your friends invited you and your daughter, as well as Leon to be a part of their special day and you were very happy to accept the offer.

In the dimly lit hallway, you were helping Leon straighten his tie, your fingers deftly working the fabric as you concentrated on the task at hand, and you were so focused on tying his tie correctly that you didn't notice the adoring look in his eyes as he looked at you.

When you finally finished, Leon leaned down and kissed you softly on the lips.

— «You look incredible» he muttered, and his voice was full of admiration

You blushed at the compliment and smiled back at him — «You're not so bad yourself, Mr. Kennedy»

Leon chuckled and then turned his attention to your adorable four year old daughter who was running around the room with boundless energy, full of enthusiasm, her laughter filling the air.

— «You look great, Mommy!» she said, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

— «Thank you, dear» you replied, adjusting the tiny flower crown adorning her hair — «And you, my little flower girl, look just adorable»

Leon leaned over, holding out his arms, and your daughter happily threw herself into his arms, chatting animatedly about the day ahead, his ease and love for her always melting your heart.

The three of you walked outside, the city streets were filled with regular noise and bustle as you called a taxi that would take you to the serene garden where the ceremony would take place.

The car ride was filled with your daughter's endless questions about weddings, love and the role of flower girl, and Leon patiently answered each question, his soothing voice carried through the car, calming the flow of her questions and childish curiosity.

As you pulled up to the garden and left the taxi, the contrast to the chaos of the city was striking — lush greenery surrounded the beautifully decorated altar where the wedding would take place, the air was filled with the gentle melody of nature, a welcome change from the usual city symphony of sounds.

Leon scooped your daughter into his arms and you couldn’t help but be filled with warmth at the sight of your little family as Leon embraced fatherhood with a natural ease that melted your heart from day one.

You straightened your daughter's dress, a delicate white fabric decorated with tiny pink flowers just like the ones she would soon scatter down the aisle, she was this wedding flower girl and took her role very seriously.

— «Are you glad to be a flower girl, darling?» you asked, leaning down to kiss her cheek.

She giggled and nodded enthusiastically, her eyes sparkling with excitement — «Yes, Mommy! I'm going to be the best flower girl in the world!»

Leon smiled at her, his love for her shining in his eyes — «Sure you are, baby»

As you continued to approach the wedding venue, the sun sank further into the horizon, bathing the wedding venue in a warm golden light, an enchanting scene that brought back your own memories.

The natural landscape, adorned with a beautiful arch and rows of comfortable seats, brought back cherished memories and you snuggled closer to Leon, your fingers intertwined with his and you couldn't resist the urge to steal a soft kiss, feeling the warmth of his lips on yours.

Your daughter, positioned between you, looked around in awe, her innocent eyes taking in the magical surroundings, as Leon's voice, filled with nostalgia, broke the silence — «It feels like yesterday we were standing in familiar place and taking our own vows»

You smiled, memories came flooding back to you — «Yes, that's right, we've come a long way since that day»

Hours passed, the atmosphere was buzzing with laughter and lively conversations, champagne flowed like a river, and trays of delicious snacks were passed among the guests, a time of celebration, love and promises of a bright future for the newlyweds reigned all around.

The moment of the wedding procession was approaching, and the time had come for your daughter to play the role of flower girl, at home you carefully explained to her what she should do so that she would not be afraid, she practiced with you, scattering flower petals with grace, and you were sure that she understood her role, but even if not, then nothing terrible will happen and no one will swear.

Leon leaned over and whispered to your daughter — «Are you ready to become the best flower girl in the world?»

She nodded with a determined look on her face — «I'm ready, Daddy»

The guests took their seats, their faces full of eager anticipation, the wedding arch, decorated with fragrant flowers, became a symbol of the couple's love, just like at your own wedding, and you immediately looked at Leon, his picturesque blue eyes were full of love and softness, and he smiled back at you, knowing that you were remembering your special day.

Notes of melodious melody began to fill the air as your daughter walked down the aisle, she held an adorable basket filled with delicate flowers, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she walked, her little feet barely making a sound on the path and her tiny hands tossing the petals with carefree grace which made everyone smile.

But then, as she reached the middle of the aisle, something unexpected happened.

Instead of continuing to throw petals, your daughter began to sing “Happy Birthday to You” and her sweet voice echoed through the aisle, the melody was definitely different from the solemnity of the wedding and it took everyone by surprise.

A wave of laughter and cheerful glances swept through the crowd, and even the groom could not help but exchange surprised glances with the guests, he stood at the altar, waiting for his beloved, and the moment was filled with tension and excitement for a second, but now laughter threatened to burst out.

Leon, always ever present, sensed the situation and acted quickly, he stood up from his seat, his tall and stern figure attracted the attention of the guests, allowing them to look as with a finger to his lips and with a stern expression on his face, he called everyone to silence.

The guests immediately heeded his unspoken request, and there was silence in the crowd, in which your daughter continued to sing the birthday song, her eyes twinkling with innocent joy, she was unaware of the awkwardness of the moment, lost in her own happiness, and the guests, now quiet and attentive, clapping their hands to the beat of her melody.

They seemed to decide to join in the fun, taking the unexpected turn of events, and your daughter giggled to the applause, her voice getting louder and singing with even more enthusiasm.

The atmosphere was no longer tense, but rather filled with pure joy and general fun, the unexpected serenade becoming a cherished memory that the couple would surely cherish.

Finally, your daughter finished singing the song and turned to face the guests, with a beaming smile, she curtsied charmingly, her innocence charmed everyone around and everyone immediately burst into praise, and her smile became even wider.

When the bride walked out in a stunning wedding dress, the audience couldn't contain their joy, even louder applause rang through the air, celebrating not only the bride's arrival, but also your daughter's charming performance, and when the bride walked up to the groom's altar, her face shone with love and happiness.

Leaning down, she extended her hand to your daughter, gently stroked her head and kissed her tenderly on the cheek — «Thank you, dear» she whispered, her gratitude evident in the softness of her voice.

With a final pat on your daughter's head, the bride continued down the aisle as your daughter turned to you and Leon with a bright smile on her face and eyes seeking approval.

Leon scooped her up into his arms, holding her close to him carefully and placing her on his lap as she snuggled comfortably against him, holding her tiny hand in yours, and asked with innocence in her eyes — «Did I do it well, Mommy? Daddy?»

You and Leon exchanged tender glances, and a shared laugh escaped your lips — «You did amazing, sweetheart, we're so proud of you» you assured her, your hearts filling with love and pride as Leon leaned down to kiss her soft cheek, lightly tickling it with his dark locks and stubble.

As the wedding ceremony continued, you and Leon sat next to your daughter, feeling the warmth of her presence and cherishing the unique and unforgettable moment she had created, it was a wedding definitely unlike any other, filled with laughter, love and simple, unexpected joy , which could only come from a pure child’s heart.

taglist: @roseglazedlens, @scar-crossedlvrs, @daydreamrot, @valsthea, @kennedyswhore dm me if you want to be tagged in my works or open my taglist

#[ ✒️july writing ]#📋 july request's ༉‧₊#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy comfort #leon kennedy x fem reader #leon scott kennedy fluff #leon scott kennedy x reader #leon scott kennedy comfort #leon kennedy fic #leon scott kennedy x fem reader #leon scott kennedy x you #leon kennedy fanfic

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kitsunefox1108 · 1 year

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How Yandere self aware Leon Kenney find his way into female artist reader's world

YANDERE! SELF AWARE LEON KENNEDY X FEMALE! ARTIST! READER SFW VERSION: Leon has always been your favorite character.

Perhaps as a child you played one of the residents, where the main character was Leon, and since then he has never left your head.

For so many years, to have sympathy for a fictional character seemed… strange. But you didn't care.

And now, you are already quite an adult girl, drawing art with a list of your favorite characters. In the background, you had a remake of Resident Evil 2 turned on. Leon stood still with a gun while you drew each strand of his hair, hoping for a great result later.

And then… you hear the crackle of the monitor. You look scared, and see how someone's hands deliberately crawl out, intending to finally break your monitor. You fall off your chair in a panic and crawl towards the bed, hoping that what you see is just a glitch. What a pity that it doesn't…

You just blinked, and already you are in the arms of a fictional character, to whom you have had sympathy since childhood. Oddly enough, it's mutual. - Finally, I can interact with you, my love. - Leon whispered in your ear, caressing your tense shoulders. - Am I sleeping?… -"No. Now let me take you where you need to go. "- as if with a real hand, Leon takes your hand and drags you towards the monitor. You just screamed, and that was the last thing you could do before you were swallowed into another world that you didn't belong to.

NSFW VERSION ( for the same Horny people like me ): You sigh excitedly as you draw a half-headed Leon in your sketchbook. You have had an interest in him since childhood, but at first he was platonic. Starting in adolescence, it developed into a romantic interest.

Some of your friends have always found it strange that you weren't interested in your peers and hadn't dated anyone before. You said you don't care, it's not your priority.

However, that didn't mean you didn't have feelings. Also how they were. It just wasn't a peer, but a fictional character from survival horror.

You have already drawn Leon's torso. You smirked. - "you can't just take my heart with your beauty, Mr. Kennedy." - "You are also playing with my heart." - you hear, looking nervously in the direction where the sound came from. - wait… how is that -

-"Shh… hush hush, dear, we're together now. Now let me show you what my abs really look like. Exclusive look…"

#leon kennedy x reader #resident evil x reader #yandere resident evil #self aware au #yandere leon kennedy

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alicerosejensen · 1 year

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Okay, this is my headcanon! But I think Leon needs a REGULAR civilian girl. I have nothing against Ada (I love that woman) but with Leon you can hit me a dozen times, I can't see her. Their relationship, in my understanding, is toxic. Leon is clearly tired of playing cat and mouse with Ada.

So, my main (and favorite) headcanon is that Leon's partner is still younger than him, and is a student at the College of Arts and Culture. Perhaps she knows how to play the piano or some ancient instrument (the lute? guitars are for wimps). If she knows how to shoot or Leon himself taught her this. Of course, she does not carry a gun with her, but a gas spray must be! Leon will remind her several times to keep it in her jacket pocket.

Her gun always pulls a bit to the left. But in reality it is not, she just shoots askew. But playfully blames Leon.

Leon teaches her how to properly hold a weapon, reload it, but sincerely hopes that this will never come in handy for her. (Besides, I'm just sure that Leon will definitely praise her if she hits the target. It can be nice words or a gentle kiss on the back of the head).

Fluffy Leon. He is very gentle with her, flirts a lot, sometimes even too much. Sometimes he says various smut, only to deliberately embarrass her. But he likes it when she starts to play along, although he likes reddening cheeks from embarrassment more. And no, Leon will not tell her about his work until the last. He does not want to endanger a dear person. Relations with him are also not easy, because Leon is a very reserved person: he is ready to lend a helping hand, but hates to accept it. So it's hard to know what's on his mind. And all if you knock on his "shell" a little, I'm sure that Mr. Kennedy would allow himself to be comforted by insignificant signs of attention. In addition, it certainly relaxes him, as his beloved talks about some historical person.

“Do you know Anne Boleyn? I recently read Alison Weir, "Anne Boleyn, a king’s obsession. Henry VII is just a big pig! He wanted a son, but in the end, his daughter became the Great Queen anyway! He didn't deserve any of his wives."

Leon is unlikely to listen carefully if he has just returned from a mission. Most of the time he will disappear into the bar emptying the stocks of whiskey, but if his mental state is stable, then he is really interested, but not always...

She is literally his sunshine! Unfortunately, when Leon is drunk, he can rudely push away (not physically. Raising a hand to his beloved is beyond impossible for him). He will definitely apologize the next morning, but will feel like a bastard for having snapped at his love. Even if she forgives him.

Tries to fix a mistake. A gift or help around the house... Leon understands that it's hard with him, understands that she can find another good guy, and he will let her go without problems, considering himself not the best option for her. Yes, it will hurt him, but if it's for the best, he'll understand. True, leaving him will be accompanied by another hard drinking.

"I don’t want to leave, but I don’t understand what is happening to you! You are very dear to me, it hurts me to see that you are ruining yourself, Leon!"

The words that at least someone needs him, not as a federal agent, but as a person will break him. Leon would hug her, bury his nose in the crook of her neck, and most likely let himself cry. He's fucking tired of B.O.O, he's always dreamed of having a family and helping people as a cop! His life shouldn't be like this!

Their sex balances on the verge of tenderness and rudeness. I don't think Leon has a fetish for choking, for example. He can grab him by the neck, but he won't squeeze. Suddenly he miscalculates his strength and causes harm ... nevertheless, he still dominates, although Leon is a giver, so he will make sure that his partner gets the highest pleasure from making love to him.

The agent reacts quite calmly when his girlfriend puts her leg on his hip. True, he doesn't like it when she takes up the entire bed, trying to push Kennedy to the floor in his sleep. Sometimes she can be very active in this.

He's fought B.O.O., zombies, and more, but he doesn't always manage to stay on his bed at night. Because this woman prefers to take everything.

The couch is also comfortable.

"Why were you sleeping on the couch?

Leon will come up with some kind of go-ahead, but will not tell the truth

Nothing strange, just a man with the last name of the president lost a bed to his girlfriend.

I think because of the age difference, Leon is afraid to marry his girlfriend. To be more precise, he is afraid that she will become a target for his enemies. If something happened to her through his fault, he would never forgive himself for it. And let the D.S.O shove all the programs to protect the relatives of their agents up their ass (I hope they have such)

If an outbreak of a new virus occurs again, Leon will climb even to hell for his beloved. He's already protected Ashley from the ganado and Las Plagas, so keeping his beloved safe from the new stuff will be a priority for him. Leon is trained to deal with this, but she is not, but this does not mean that she will not hit the zombies with a tire iron or a bat in order to protect herself, but once again she will not stick out from behind Leon's back. But she may have to take a few shots, which is unlikely to kill the zombies.

"You have to shoot right in the head."

"This is my friend! You SHOT my friend! He... he... I could..."

"He's not human anymore."

"HE WAS MY FRIEND! Who gave you the right to kill people?!"

Yeap, she fired first, but...Leon realizes it's just a shock. He didn't tell her anything about where he actually works, so her fear is entirely justified. The gun she found will be in his holster, and he will carefully make his way with her through this shit to leave her in a safe place.

Hit a zombie in the head with a tire iron when he wants to attack Leon from behind? She has courage. Maybe she's not a spy like Ada; she doesn't look like Helena or Claire, but she tries her best to hold on even if she has nightmares afterwards.

Some riddles can be solved faster than Leon. Need to quote Kafka or remember an important historical date? Next to Leon is a walking encyclopedia. Play a couple of chords? Problematic, but not critical.

She is his sunlight... or the light from a flashlight. Leon's lantern broke, so...

"Please don't shine in my eyes, baby." "I'm Sorry."

Leon will have to say goodbye to his leather jacket, but it's a joke, he'll give it to her himself.

They will walk this path together. Most likely, Leon will leave her in a safe place, thinking that she does not need a relationship with him. Most importantly, he saved her life.

-Hey, Mr. John Wick, - Leon turned around in confusion at a face stained with someone else's blood, where a tired smile bloomed. - Will you teach me how to suplex when you get back?

-Better we just take a hot shower together.

- I don't think I'll be going back to college any time soon, so I'll wait for you to come back. And I'm sorry about what I said to you on campus. I probably wouldn't have survived without you. Damn, I'd be torn to pieces.

- I understand.

- We'll talk calmly when it's over, right? I probably didn't know much about you. Will this end, Leon?

- Sure.

He'll be back, really. When he finishes off another bastard who has arranged a new outbreak of the virus.

#leon kennedy #leon scott kennedy #leon s kennedy #original male character #resident evil #resident evil vendetta

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deadpresidents · 5 months

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Waking Up In Dallas: November 22, 1963.

Two American Presidents woke up in Dallas, Texas, on November 22, 1963. Neither of them were the two men who actually served as President on that tragic day -- John F. Kennedy or Lyndon B. Johnson.

The 37th President of the United States, 50-year-old Richard Nixon, had arrived in Dallas on November 20th for a conference of the American Bottlers of Carbonated Beverages on behalf of Pepsi-Cola, a company that his New York law firm was representing. On November 21st, Nixon sat down with reporters in his room at the Baker Hotel, where he criticized many of the policies of President Kennedy, his 1960 opponent, who would be arriving in Dallas the next day. That night, Nixon and Pepsi executives including actress Joan Crawford, who had been married to Pepsi's chairman, Alfred Steele, until his death in 1959, were entertained at the Statler Hilton.

In the early morning of November 22nd, a car dropped Nixon off, alone, at Love Field, the Dallas airport that would host President and Mrs. Kennedy, Vice President Johnson and Mrs. Johnson, and Texas Governor John Connally and his wife in just a few hours. Nixon later remembered the flags and signs displayed along the motorcade route that Kennedy would soon follow. Nixon approached the American Airlines ticket counter to check-in for his flight to New York City and told the attendant, "It looks like you're going to have a big day today."

Nixon landed several hours later in New York at an airport that would be renamed after John F. Kennedy a month later. He described what happened next in his 1978 autobiography, RN: The Memoirs of Richard Nixon:

Arriving in New York, I hailed a cab home. We drove through Queens toward the 59th Street Bridge, and as we stopped at a traffic light, a man rushed over from the curb and started talking to the driver. I heard him say, "Do you have a radio in your cab? I just heard that Kennedy was shot." We had no radio, and as we continued into Manhattan a hundred thoughts rushed through my mind. The man could have been crazy or a macabre prankster. He could have been mistaken about what he had heard; or perhaps a gunman might have shot at Kennedy but missed or only wounded him. I refused to believe that he could have been killed. As the cab drew up in front of my building, the doorman ran out. Tears were streaming down his cheeks. "Oh, Mr. Nixon, have you heard, sir?" he asked. "It's just terrible. They've killed President Kennedy."

The close 1960 Presidential election changed the relationship between Richard Nixon and John F. Kennedy, but they had once been very close. When they first entered Congress together in 1947, they considered each other personal friends, and when Nixon ran for the Senate from California in 1950, JFK stopped into Nixon's office and dropped off a financial contribution to Nixon's campaign from Kennedy's father. Nixon would later write that he felt as bad on the night of Kennedy's assassination as he had when he lost two brothers to tuberculosis when he was very young. That night, he wrote an emotional letter to Jacqueline Kennedy:

Dear Jackie, In this tragic hour Pat and I want you to know that our thoughts and prayers are with you. While the hand of fate made Jack and me political opponents I always cherished the fact that we were personal friends from the time we came to the Congress together in 1947. That friendship evidenced itself in many ways including the invitation we received to attend your wedding. Nothing I could say now could add to the splendid tributes which have come from throughout the world to him. But I want you to know that the nation will also be forever grateful for your service as First Lady. You brought to the White House charm, beauty and elegance as the official hostess of America, and the mystique of the young in heart which was uniquely yours made an indelible impression on the American consciousness. If in the days ahead we could be helpful in any way we shall be honored to be at your command. Sincerely, Dick Nixon

••• On the morning of November 22, 1963, the 41st President of the United States also woke up in Dallas, Texas. George Herbert Walker Bush was the 39-year-old president of the Zapata Off-Shore Drilling Company and chairman of the Harris County, Texas Republican Party, and had stayed the night of November 21st at the Dallas Sheraton alongside his wife, Barbara. Bush was planning a bid for the U.S. Senate in 1964 and making the rounds to line up support amongst many Texans who considered him far too moderate. One of the groups that was strongest in opposition to Bush was the ultra-right wing John Birch Society, which had recently been lodging vehement protests against President Kennedy's upcoming visit to Dallas.

Conspiracy theorists claim that there were far more sinister motives for George Bush being in Dallas on November 22, 1963. Some claim that Bush was a secret CIA operative involved in planning or even carrying out the assassination of President Kennedy. Some even argue that a grainy photograph of a man resembling Bush taken shortly after the assassination proves that Bush was actually in Dealey Plaza at the time of Kennedy's shooting.

He wasn't. He wasn't even in Dallas. We know where George Herbert Walker Bush was at the time of JFK's assassination -- we have plenty of eyewitnesses who can confirm it. While Lee Harvey Oswald was shooting President Kennedy, George Bush was about 100 miles away from Dallas, in Tyler, Texas, speaking at a Kiwanis Club luncheon. Like Nixon, Bush and his wife, Barbara, had also boarded a plane that morning in Dallas -- a private plane that transported them to Tyler for the Kiwanis Club event. While Bush was speaking, word of the President's assassination reached the luncheon and the local club president, Wendell Cherry, leaned over and gave the news to Bush. Bush quickly notified the crowd, and said, "In view of the President's death, I consider it inappropriate to continue with a political speech at this time." He ended his speech and sat down while the luncheon broke up in stunned silence.

Bush's wife, Barbara, wasn't at the Kiwanis Club luncheon. While her husband was speaking, Barbara Bush went to a beauty parlor in Tyler to get her hair styled. As her hair was being done, Barbara began writing a letter to family and heard the news over the radio that JFK had been shot and then that the President had died. In her 1994 memoir, Barbara included the letter, part of which said:

I am writing this at the Beauty Parlor, and the radio says that the President has been shot. Oh Texas -- my Texas -- my God -- let's hope it's not true. I am sick at heart as we all are. Yes, the story is true and the Governor also. How hateful some people are. Since, the beauty parlor, the President has died. We are once again on a plane. This time a commercial plane. Poppy (George H.W. Bush's family nickname) picked me up at the beauty parlor -- we went right to the airport, flew to Ft. Worth and dropped Mr. Zeppo off (we were on his plane) and flew back to Dallas. We had to circle the field while the second Presidential plane took off. Immediately, Pop got tickets back to Houston, and here we are flying home. We are sick at heart. The tales the radio reporters tell of Jackie Kennedy are the bravest. We are hoping that it is not some far-right nut, but a "commie" nut. You understand that we know they are both nuts, but just hope that it is not a Texan and not an American at all. I am amazed by the rapid-fire thinking and planning that has already been done. LBJ has been the President for some time now -- two hours at least and it is only 4:30. My dearest love to you all, Bar

As Barbara Bush noted in her letter, the Bushes did not stay another night at the Dallas Sheraton on November 22nd, as they had originally planned. They returned to Dallas on the private jet that had transported them to Tyler earlier in the day, and caught a commercial flight home to Houston. The "second Presidential plane" that took off while Bush's plane circled Love Field was the plane that had transported Vice President Lyndon B. Johnson to Dallas earlier that day, Air Force Two. Johnson was already heading back to Washington, now on Air Force One, with the casket of John F. Kennedy.

••• The 37th President of the United States and the 41st President of the United States woke up in Dallas, Texas on the morning of November 22, 1963. The 31st President, 89-year-old Herbert Hoover, was in failing health in the elegant suite he called home at New York's Waldorf-Astoria. Within the next few weeks, he would be visited by the new President, Lyndon Johnson, and President Kennedy's grieving widow, Jackie, and the President's brother, Attorney General Bobby Kennedy. The 33rd President, 79-year-old Harry Truman, learned of JFK's death in Missouri, while the 34th President, 73-year-old Dwight D. Eisenhower, heard of the assassination while attending a meeting at the United Nations in New York. Truman and Eisenhower would squash a long, bitter personal feud that weekend while attending Kennedy's funeral in Washington. The 38th President, 50-year-old Michigan Congressman Gerald Ford, was driving home with his wife Betty after attending a parent conference with their son Jack's teacher when they heard the news on the radio in their car. Two days later, President Johnson would call on Ford to serve on the Warren Commission investigating the assassination.

The 39th President, Jimmy Carter was 39 years old and had just gotten off a tractor near the warehouse of his Plains, Georgia peanut farm when a group of farmers informed him of the news of the shooting. Carter found a quiet area, kneeled down in prayer, and when he heard that Kennedy had died, cried for the first time since his father had died ten years earlier. Ronald Reagan, the 40th President, was 52 years old and preparing for a run as Governor of California. A little more than 17 years later, the now-President Reagan would also be shot by a lone gunman in the middle of the day. While Reagan would survive the attempt on his life, it was very nearly fatal and reminded his wife, Nancy, of November 22, 1963. As she was transported to George Washington Hospital following Reagan's shooting, Nancy would later note, "As my mind raced, I flashed to scenes of Parkland Memorial Hospital in Texas, and the day President Kennedy was shot. I had been driving down San Vicente Boulevard in Los Angeles when a bulletin came over the car radio. Now, more than seventeen years later, I prayed that history would not be repeated, that Washington would not become another Dallas. That my husband would live."

The 41st President, Bill Clinton, and the 43rd President, George W. Bush, were both 17 years old and in school -- Bush at the Phillips Academy in Andover, Massachusetts, and Clinton at Hot Springs High School in Hot Springs, Arkansas. Clinton was in his fourth period calculus class when his teacher was called out of the room and returned to announce that President Kennedy had been killed. Four months earlier, Clinton had traveled to Washington with the Boys Nation program and, during a ceremony in the Rose Garden of the White House, pushed his way to the front of the line and shook President Kennedy's hand. The 44th President, Barack Obama, was a 2-year-old living in Hawaii.

••• The 35th President, 46-year-old John F. Kennedy, would die in Dallas on November 22, 1963. Lyndon B. Johnson, 55, would become the 36th President in Dallas that day. But they woke up that morning in Fort Worth at the Texas Hotel. Kennedy had slept the last night of his life in suite 850 on the eighth floor, now the Presidential suite. LBJ had slept the last night of his Vice Presidency in the much more expensive and elegant Will Rogers Suite on the thirteenth floor. The Secret Service had vetoed the Will Rogers Suite for the President because it was more difficult to secure. It was raining in Fort Worth as they woke up, but the skies had cleared by the time they landed in Dallas. Before breakfast, President Kennedy, Vice President Johnson, and Texas Governor John Connally headed outside and briefly addressed a crowd that had gathered long before the sun had come up in hopes of seeing JFK. Jacqueline Kennedy didn't accompany them outside and President Kennedy joked to the crowd, "Mrs. Kennedy is organizing herself. It takes her a little longer but, of course, she looks better than we do when she does it."

Afterward, they headed inside for breakfast in the Texas Hotel's Grand Ballroom with several hundred guests. The President sent for Mrs. Kennedy to join them, and her late arrival to the breakfast excited the guests in the ballroom. When the President spoke to the group, he joked again, "Two years ago I introduced myself in Paris as the man who had accompanied Mrs. Kennedy to Paris. I'm getting somewhat that same sensation as I travel around Texas." Then he noted, "Nobody wonders what Lyndon and I wear."

When the breakfast ended, the Kennedys headed upstairs and had an hour or so to wait before heading to the airport for the short flight to Dallas. It was during this time that Jackie Kennedy saw a hateful ad placed in that morning's Dallas Morning News accusing President Kennedy of collusion with Communists and treasnous activity. Trying to calm Jackie down, the President joked, "Oh, we're heading into nut country today." But a few minutes later, Jackie overheard Kennedy telling his aide, Ken O'Donnell, "It would not be a very difficult job to shoot the President of the United States. All you'd have to do is get up in a high building with a high-powered rifle with a telescopic sight, and there's nothing anybody can do."

••• Even though the trip from Fort Worth's Carswell Air Force Base to Dallas's Love Field would only take thirteen minutes by air, the trip to Texas was first-and-foremost a political trip -- a kickoff of sorts to JFK's 1964 re-election campaign -- and a grand entrance was needed. So, JFK and Jackie boarded the plane usually used as Air Force One, LBJ and Lady Bird Johnson boarded the plane usually used by the Vice President, Air Force Two, and the huge Presidential party took to the skies, covering thirty miles in thirteen minutes, in order to get the big Dallas welcome that they were hoping for. They landed in Dallas at 11:40 AM, and President Kennedy looked out the window of his plane, saw a big, happy crowd, and told Ken O'Donnell, "This trip is turning out to be terrific. Here we are in Dallas, and it looks like everything in Texas is going to be fine for us."

At 2:47 PM -- just three hours and seven minutes later -- everyone was back on Air Force One as the plane climbed off of the Love Field runway and into the Dallas sky. John F. Kennedy, the 35th President, was in a casket wedged into a space in the rear of Air Force One where two rows of seats had been removed so that it would be fit. Lyndon B. Johnson had officially been sworn in as the 36th President about ten minutes earlier on the plane by federal judge Sarah T. Hughes. On one side of Johnson while he took the oath was his wife, Lady Bird, and on the other side, the widowed former First Lady, Jackie Kennedy, still wearing a pink dress splattered with her husband's blood and brain matter.

Two American Presidents woke up in Dallas on November 22, 1963 -- Richard Nixon and George H.W. Bush -- but they weren't in town when John F. Kennedy was assassinated, no matter how many ways conspiracy theorists try to twist the story. The President who died in Dallas that day, John F. Kennedy, and the man who became President in Dallas that day, Lyndon B. Johnson, woke up in Fort Worth on the morning of November 22, 1963. But they'll be forever linked with Dallas -- and the world that woke up the next morning would never be the same again.

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sarahs-secrets2 · 11 months

Text

In Your Wildest Dreams Chapter 2 ˋ♡ˊ

introduction & masterlist ❁ ❁ chapter 1❁ ❁ taglist

duke!leon x fem!reader

easier than it looks, is that jealousy i see mr. kennedy?

word count: 2.1k

₊°✧︡ ˗ ˏ ˋ ♡ ˎˊ ˗

Aunt Agatha's house was bustling with staff running around while suitors began to line up to formally start their courtship. Your mind was elsewhere though as you sat in your room, getting ready for the promenade. It had been decided you and the Duke would meet to show everyone that the two of you were “officially” courting. Little did they know of the ruse established just the night prior.

“Dear,” your Aunt cracked open the door, letting herself in. The staff who helped you get ready quickly scurried out to give you both privacy. “Might you be gracing us with your presence in the tea room? A group of suitors eagerly awaits your arrival." Your gaze was fixed on the mirror, spritzing a perfume onto your neck. Your eyes meet hers in the reflection, her expression was one of confusion. Aunt Agatha was the last person you could sneak something passed, she was observant to a fault, always taking notice of the smallest details. Hence why she asked, “Where do you presume you are venturing off to?”

Your eyes avoided hers, finding ways to busy your attention by flattening out a ruffle in your dress. “Promenade,” you waited for a reaction, to which you received none. “With Duke Leon of Clyvedon.” Turning around in the chair to face her now you could see evidently she looked pleased.

"I am most delighted to see you’ve taken such a liking to the Duke. Her Majesty shall be positively elated once she witnesses her matchmaking skills working so well, and so early,”

“Is it possible to dismiss the suitors to tomorrow perhaps?”

“Why of course I’ll attend to them at once. Now go,” she laughed as she helped stand you up from the chair, “I will not have my niece miss out on becoming a Duchess because she is behind schedule.” And with that, you were sent off quickly in a carriage to meet the still ever-mysterious Duke Leon.

On the other side of town, the infamous Duke rolled out of bed, hastening to get ready quickly. For you see, the Duke was not in his bed hence the late arising. The night prior, after the ball, Leon had found his way and ended up with a “lady of the night”. Plush red bedding surrounded him as he was reminded of the sinful activities that had occurred just hours ago. The girl stirred awake at the sound of the Duke getting dressed, her head peeking up from the covers as she hid her body under the sheets.

“Where are you going so early?” she beckoned him to come join her back in bed.

“Promenade,” Leon was curt, he knew after today all eyes would be on him until you found your official husband so this was his last opportunity to have a night of fun. The girl seemed confused at the Duke’s answer as he was not known to partake in social events of the season, so whatever reason he was going it must have been of the utmost importance to him. Leon was out of the door and quickly hopped in his carriage, heading straight to the park to see you.

Now it may seem distasteful of the Duke to partake in such sinful activities, but as an established man who has no intention of marrying, this was all routine for him and many other men of the sort. Just because he had a ruse established with you did not mean he was going to stop on your behalf but just halt his discreet activities until it was all said and done.

The park was vibrant, with a large portion of society in attendance at the day’s promenade. While waiting for the Duke you found yourself engrossed in a conversation with Lord Redfield. It was innocent, being a gentleman Lord Redfield saw you waiting under the willow tree and approached you.

“Are you waiting for someone?” the voice caused you to jump a little as you turned around to see who it was.

“Ah, Lord Redfield,” you smiled as you curtsied. Lord Redfield was cute, well-established, and overall quite perfect. An easy catch though, and he was missing that one thing. He wasn't the Duke, he did not carry the same mystery as the Duke, and he definitely did not excite you like the Duke. Lord Redfield was a safe option. “I am just waiting for the Duke of Clyvedon, have you made his acquaintance?”

“Oh?” he seemed surprised, “Leon, yes I’m aware of his business in London. We’ve crossed paths a few times of course.” You waited for him to elaborate but he did not, information a lady was not privy to of course. The two of you began to walk along the gravel paths, your eyes occasionally scanning the park looking for the tall blonde-headed Duke. Alas, he still had not arrived, you began to worry if he had called off the plan entirely already.

Leon hopped out of the carriage, straightening his jacket as he made his way to the willow tree to meet you. Pulling out his pocket watch, he huffed out noticing the time and how late he ended up being. All eyes were on him as he quickened his pace to get to the willow tree quicker. If he did not know any better he would say he was excited to see you. Almost as quick as the thoughts penetrated his mind, he pushed them down, drowning them with the reminder that he would not marry. This was all a plan to benefit you both in the end, marriage was not on the table for him.

As he approached the willow tree, he realized you were not there. Had he been that late? Did he miss you entirely? Leon’s eyes surveyed the park trying to spot you, and there you were. Walking alongside another man, not Leon. His heart almost stopped, and a tinge of jealousy began to sink into his veins. Perhaps the Duke was still coming down from his wild activities from the night prior when something overcame him as he stomped his way to you.

“Ah, there you are,” his hand quickly snuck around your waist pulling you closer to him, and further away from Lord Redfield. There was that feeling again, a spark flushing your skin when you felt his touch on your waist. Your stomach churned, your face felt hot, what was this feeling?

“Your Grace, I’m so glad you made it,” you beamed up at him, trying to hide the rush of emotions you still had yet to identify.

“Please accept my apology for being so late, I had some business affairs on my father’s account I had to finish,” his eyes pleading. As genuine as he sounded it was impossible to read him, and it did not help that he was so entirely intoxicating. You thought he looked handsome at the ball, but today was something else. Unlike the prior night, today his silver-toned blonde hair was pushed back with a stray strand resting on his forehead. He sported a dark jacket, with hints of gold and pale blue throughout. The Duke sure knew how to dress.

“Of course your Grace, I understand. Thank you for making time to see me today,”

“Affairs,” Lord Redfield scoffed, glazing over you as he stared down Leon.

“Lord Redfield,” the Duke looked unfazed, smiling back at Lord Redfield who was scowling at him. Leon’s hand still was firm on your waist, keeping you close to him. “Thank you for keeping her company in my absence. He is a true gentleman is he not? Always stepping up when you least expect it.” Although Leon’s words were kind, sarcasm was dripping as he eyed down Lord Redfield. Almost as a warning to stay away from you.

This was where the Duke’s mystery came in, if he did not wish to marry you then why was he being so territorial right now? Why was he scaring away a potential match?

“Well,” Lord Redfield offered you a sympathetic glance, although you weren't sure why. “I’ll take my leave, miss,” he placed a chaste kiss on the back of your gloved hand. “Enjoy your day, I hope I have the chance to make your acquaintance again, sooner rather than later preferably,” he paused before taking a step towards Leon, “Enjoy your affairs, Leon.” And with that Lord Redfield walked away, leaving you and the Duke alone.

“Am I allowed to ask what that was about?” you turned to face Leon, his hand dropping from your waist. Immediately you missed his grasp on you.

“Which part?” the Duke chuckled slightly, extending his arm for you. Obviously, it was fun for him to ruin your chances with a suitor. You linked your arm around his as the two of you began to promenade around the park.

“All of it,” glancing up at him, but his eyes were glued straight ahead.

“Let us enjoy this day, not get fussed with the little things,” he looked down at you smiling. You decide not to probe him deeper, he was already assisting you this season better to just keep him happy.

“Fine, if you insist,” you wrapped your arm around his tighter, “This plan of ours, we will need to come up with some of the guidelines,”

“Such as?”

“Balls, gifts, the customary plans of courtship,” the idea of these things excited you, but your heart really began racing when you pictured the Duke being the one you did it with.

“I cannot be expected to do all that, can I?” his tone shifted, obviously unaware of the entire extent of the plan he created.

“You must, it is the only way this arrangement works,”

“If you insist, but I cannot attend every single ball. I have my own business to attend to if you recall.”

“I am well aware your Grace,”

“Just Leon, please I cannot remind you every time,” he teased, stealing a glance down at you as the two of you continued on the paths of the park.

“Of course, Leon,” you let his name glide off your tongue making sure to pronounce every syllable for him.

“Mhm just like that, go on,”

“Please make the effort to attend the balls until I have found a proper suitor.” Leon nodded, unable to find the words or a witty joke. He was a perfect eligible suitor for you, he knew it, and there was that voice in his reminding him again that he was to not marry. This arrangement was simply to help you both out. Keep the swarm of mamas and their daughters at bay for him, while attracting only the best suitors for you. The Duke now faced a new task though, he could not afford to allow these budding feelings for you to flourish. “And I will need you to send flowers, preferably today,”

“Flowers?”

“Customary to signify you are courting me,”

“I see,” he looked lost in thought as he paused for a moment. He stopped walking and turned to face you, “If I was truly courting you I would not need to follow customs, 10 minutes alone would suffice,” his voice low, and husky as he spoke. The sudden change in his demeanor shocked you as you were unsure how to respond in a ladylike way.

“Expensive flowers, Leon. Today,” you attempted to brush off his comment but the way your body and mind reacted was an entirely different story.

“Of course,” his bold tone had left him, perhaps it was still the jealousy from Lord Redfield causing him to act in such a way. “Anything else?”

“Do not tell anyone of this arrangement, I need this to remain a secret between the two of us please Leon, I cannot afford a scandal,” you were pleading at this point, but it was necessary to ensure he understood how important this was.

“I shall not tell a soul dear,” he nodded, sticking his arm back out for you to take again, continuing the promenade.

What you two did not notice throughout the time at the park, was the mass amount of eyes on you both throughout the entirety of the promenade. The ton would be swirling with rumors, and stories of who the Duke was courting. Are there promises of a new Duchess on the horizon?

₊°✧︡ ˗ ˏ ˋ ♡ ˎˊ ˗

briefly proofread pls lmk if there's a jarring typo

tags: @ir3nic-sluvv @mylifedoesntexist @secretsthathauntus @sageslittlelibrary

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon scott kennedy x reader #resident evil x reader #resident evil #leon s kennedy #leon s kennedy x reader #leon scott kennedy #leon kennedy resident evil #re4 leon #resident evil leon #leon kennedy re2 #re2 remake #leon kennedy re4 #leon resident evil #leon kennedy fluff

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midchelle · 7 months

Note

what are all the songs different beatles wrote about the breakup/other beatles/the drama on their solo albums?

Possibly non-exhaustive list, let me know if I'm missing any!

Ringo

Back Off Boogaloo (1972) Ringo says it isn't about Paul. It definitely sounds like it's about someone. He was publically critical of Ram and McCartney, and the song contains the lyrics 'Get yourself together now / And give me something tasty, / Everything you try to do / You know it sure sound wasted!' Hmmm.

Early 1970 (1970) This is probably the least bitter song written about the breakup, which I feel makes sense. While there was that incident with Paul in March 1970, for the most part, he maintained pretty good relations with the other Beatles. Nobody was on the verge of starting a blood feud with Ringo. It's Ringo, folks! Everybody likes Ringo.

George

Wah Wah (1970) The fact that he wrote this directly after leaving the band during the Get Back sessions is really all you need to know.

Isn't It a Pity (1970) Isn't it just? Though he wrote this years before the breakup, it takes on a new meaning after it. Not to crib from the YouTube Beatles man, but the fact that they'd been rejecting this since 1966...

Run Of The Mill (1970) They're calling it 'the head BIC of Paul McCartney diss tracks.'

Sue Me, Sue You Blues (1973)

- most litigious Beatle

Paul

Every Night (1970) And thus began Paul McCartney's string of 'my life is shit but my wife is hot' songs.

Man We Was Lonely (1970) My Life Is Shit But My Wife Is Hot (Part 2)

Too Many People (1971) World, here's my album about how great it is to be heterosexual and live on a farm. The first song is about how my old songwriting partner and his wife suck because I'm not mad and I'm actually laughing. People think this song must be covertly cruel because of how John responded, and the haha you're on heroin line is pretty low, but what nobody takes into account is how it's the equivalent of holding your finger really close to someone's face and saying I'm not touching you! I'm not touching you! Hehe. It's annoying. You want to punch it.

3 Legs (1971) This song is really cutting in the same way Paul thinks signing 'piece of cake' as 'piss off cake' is cutting.

Dear Boy (1971) Paul claims this song is about Linda's ex-husband.

What did this man ever do to you besides divorce Linda, father Heather, AND let you adopt her, all of which were great for you? Where's this coming from?

Dear Friend (1971) Dear Friend and Too Many People being released the same year is pretty funny, but nowhere near as funny as Jealous Guy and How Do you Sleep? being on the same album.

Hon. Mention: well what is that 'we believe that we can't be wrong' bit supposed to mean?

John

I Found Out (1970) I've seen religion from Jesus to Paul. What Paul? Oh, you know, Paul.

God (1970) It's delightfully seventeen-year-old-experiencing-a-breakup-for-the-first-time to rank disbelief in The Beatles over not believing in: the Bible, Jesus Christ, the Bhagavad Gita, John F. Kennedy. And I'm all for it.

How Do You Sleep? (1971) It's her. The sexy, weirdly disjointed song that Went Too Far. Can I be honest? This is so tame. And half the lyrics don't even make sense. The cruelty of this song is in how dismissive and impersonal it is rather than anything to do with the actual words. I like to think of Run Of The Mill/Too Many People/How Do You Sleep? as a matching set because they display the individual worst qualities of the people who made them. Respectively: bitchy, annoying, and mean.

Jealous Guy (1971)

I Know (I Know) (1973) [Insert comparison of opening riff of I Know (I Know) Vs. opening riff of I've Got A Feeling] Nice use of leitmotif, Mr. I-hate-musicals.

#mid.txt

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the-ravenist · 2 months

Text

That's my wife

Steve Binder x Fem!Black!Reader

Reader and Steve are married, they share both of their last names, reader is somewhat tall, reader is a boss ass bitch, reader is implied/mentioned to be infertile, reader is female(sorry), Steve is a simp for reader, suggestive dialogue(no smut), reader wears pants, reader and Steve match accessories, and protective!Steve(I think)

The smell of cigarette smoke fills the sound room, multiple eyes focusing on Elvis on the stage below, the young man's voice blasting through the speakers. The abrupt sound of the door slamming gains the attention of people in the room, yet a pair of blue eyes stay focused on the act below. Those pairs of blue eyes belong to the amazing Steve Binder-(L/N), a great man, producer, friend, partner, and husband, yes husband.

Steve had the opportunity to work with the infamous Elvis the Pelvis Presley, to produce his Comeback film. At first, he was hesitant to accept the offer, but he could see that Elvis's career wasn't doing...well. But Bones had convinced him, there could be a possibility that old Elvis might come back.

Steve can feel a headache beginning to form, a dull pounding at the back of his head and the slight twitch in his left eyebrow gave it away. If the Conole didn't shut his yapper soon, Steve was gut him like the fat fish he was.

"Kennedys' been shot!"

That definitely broke him from his thought. The backtrack of Elvis's song continued playing through the pen-drop silence throughout the studio.

Dancers, makeup artists, hairdressers, singers, and others alike were piled in the small dressing room, the dialogue of the news lady sounding like white noise besides a couple words Kennedy, shot, and dead stick in the brains of the listeners. The decrease in volume catches the attention of the grieving, Steve stands in front of the TV eyes slightly red and glistening with tears.

"Listen I, uh, I just want to say that," a sad chuckle breaks through his lips. "This nation is hurting, it's lost you know."

A couple of nods and sniffles ring throughout the group.

"It needs a vioce right now, to help heal it," he nods towards Elvis. "You, you have to a statement EP," said man's eyes lighting up.

"Mr. Presely doesn't makes statements." Eyes snap to the colonel.

"He sings here comes Santa Claus", he walks towards Steve menacingly. "And wishes everyone merry Christmas and good night", he continues with a sharp glare on his face.

A beat of somber silence passes by, anger and frustration build up in Steve and Elvis. Steve knows that the Colonel could care less about the president's death and Elvis, he was The Snowman, after all, he was cold in all ways.

"This tragedy, a tragedy yes," fake sympathy is plastered on his face. "But it has nothing to do with us."

At that Steve had calmly stormed out of the room, Bones and Jerry following. Everyone else had walked out of the room slowly after, all going their separate ways to dressing rooms mostly or back to the stage. Steve had walked, well stomped into the sound booth, lighter lighting the cigarette in his hand.

He takes a deep inhale of the toxic smoke, holding it for a beat. He knew that he had a show to run he knew it but during this time, nobody was really in the best mental state to work. As he exhaled the smoke the phone on the best corner rang, he let it ring for two more rings before his shaky hands picked it up.

"Hello?"

"Hey sweets, you okay?"

At the sound of your voice, his body instantly slacked. He was glad you called, but that's not what he's worried about at the moment.

"I'm fine puff," he had called you that due to your afro, rather than a halo of curls on top of your head reminds him of a puff of smoke. I know weird comparison.

"'M just a little tired, how about you?"

" 'M not gonna lie to ya sweets," your voice shakes a little. "I'm a lil shakin' up."

Steve puts out his cigarette as he exhales the last bit of smoke. He can feel the dull pounding get a bit louder, now trust me dear reader it's not because of you I promise.

"Yeah, this...event has everyone shakin' up," a small sigh. "I wouldn't be surprised if the damn whole country stopped functioning." A small laugh was heard through the speaker.

"Honestly, I'd believe it," A huff escaped your lips. "Damn near got into a fuckin' car accident when I heard it."

"What?"

"It's nothing though, I'm fine the cars fine," you murmur softly. "And so is my fro." Steve couldn't help but let out a small laugh.

The line is silent for a moment, it's somewhat comforting in a way. "Even though neither of you is facing the other in the comfort of your shared bed, it seems as if you were standing next to one another.

"Hey, puff?"

"...yeah?"

"How do you feel about getting creative again?"

"I'm on my way."

Elvis, Bones, and Jerry are watching Steve pace in the small room. Elvis laying on the floor by the piano, Jerry lounging on the black couch on the wall, and Bones leaning on the crisp black piano watching his friend stress out.

"What's he stressin' about," questions Elvis.

"I don't know E," Jerry says eyes narrowing on the nervous man.

"He's nervous about his dames," Bones speaks up from his spot.

"Wait his girl," Elvis questions. "Why is she comin'?"

"I guess-"

Steven turns around quickly startling the men in the room. He seems calm, yet his eyes give him away; they're wider than normal.

"I'm sorry boys," a hand runs through his hair. "This might seem completely out of character of myself," and was it ever.

"Yeah, we can tell," Jerry mutters. "Why does your girl make you nervous?"

"Huh?"

"Bones had said that your girl was coming," Elvis had said from his spot on the floor.

"And we want to know why you're actin' a nervous mess," Bones continued.

"Well if I'm being honest boys," Steve reluctantly starts. "I'm worried how she would think of y'all, minus Bones."

Well, it's not like you were a judgmental person or anything like that. It's just that you're kind of intimidating in a way.

"What," Elvis says through a small laugh. "Whaddaya mean?"

"Now listen EP," Steve's is laced with seriousness. "This woman is very important to me, she's the best out there for this operation."

"So please behave," he slightly begs.

"But still be yourself, and don't say anything stupid," Bone adds.

"Don't worry my mama taught me better than to disrespect a woman," Elvis says as he sits in a crisscross position.

"Good, 'cause she'll," he takes a glance at his watch. "She'll be here any minute now."

Just as he says that the door is pushed open, with a dark brown heeled boot. And those boots are paired with brown high-waisted pants, a white turtle neck, and a pearl necklace.

"Sorry that I'm late, sweets," the woman closed the door with her heel.

"I had to speed back home to get the stuff that I thought we could use, but then I realized that I had no fuckin' scissors," she dropped the bags full of supplies on the couch next to Jerry.

"So, I had to drive to the store to get scissors, and I realized that we'd might be here a while so I bought myself a silk scarf cause why the hell not, and-"

Steve grabbed you by the shoulders and shook you a bit, to stop her rambling. She had stopped talking as she looked at Steve with wide (e/c) eyes.

"Puff, I'm glad you're here but we have company," his eyes dart to the people behind her.

"Shit," she looked at the men behind her. "Right, my bad y'all." She coughs to clear her throat. "Hello, my name is (Y/N) (L/N)-Binder, and I'll be helping y'all 'cause y'all desperately need it."

"Now excus-"

"And you, white and sideburns," you point to the boy on the floor. "You must be the big Elvis the Pelvis Presly," the boy smirks a bit. "Now I'm not a big fan of yours but I have to admit you have some hip swingn' songs." The woman demonstrates as she moves her hips a bit.

"Well thank you," Elvis trails off, not sure if what the woman had said was a compliment or not.

"It's no problem," she dismisses, she puts her attention on the entire group.

"Now what have we gotten so far hmm?"

Silence

"Have y'all at least started on a song?"

"I mean," Jerry bravely speaks up. "We sort of do," (Y/N)'s sharp (e/c) eyes are basically pinning him to the couch.

"All right let's hear it."

And then the construction begins.

"Alright, the song is done," she sighs in exhaust. " And let me tell you, y'all are by far the hardest people I've worked with."

Jerry and Elvis gawk at the confidence of the women in front of them.

"Now E," the switch from sarcasm to seriousness throws off the boys. "It's quiet obvious to anyone with an IQ of a basic human being, that your career has been nothing but a pile of flaming shit lately."

Steve chokes on a bit on the smoke of his cigarette.

"But with this song and a killer outfit by my design," you can see a child-like excitement spark in Elvis's blue eyes. "You'll bounce back in no time."

"Now," you snap loudly. "How does everyone feel about leather?"

"Good night boys, I'll see your show tomorrow m'kay," you say as you watch the guys leave. Leaving you and Steve in the small room.

You plop your body down on the dark green couch, body slacking once it hits the cushion. A sigh leaves your mouth and your eyes begin to close.

"God, I'm getting old. I've never been that tired in a hot minute," you mutter as you grab your head scarf from your purse.

Steve nonchalantly kneels before you, hands reaching for your boots.

"You're not getting old, you need to stop saying that," he mutters as he unzips your left boot and gently slides it off your foot, hands moving to unzip the right one.

"Oh right, I'm not getting old. I'm aging," your speech is sarcastic. Yet Steve ignores it and places your boots next to the piano.

Steve plops himself on the couch next to you as you wrap your hair with the scarf. The scarf in which looks similar to the ascot that you're husband is wearing around his neck. Once finished you wrap your leg around his waist and your arms around his neck. As if automatically, he wraps an arm around your waist and slides a hand into your back pocket.

"You know what else ages," Steve croons teasingly as he locks eyes with you. You hummed in a curious tone.

"Wine, wine ages," he leans his head forward, lips grazing yours.

"'nd you my darling puff, are some very fine wine~" His lips finally touched yours. Once your lips touch you fight back a smile as his comment registers.

"Oh, Mr. Binder you are the devil in disguise I swear," you're able to say through the onslaught of kisses you're receiving.

"If I'm the devil, you're my angel in disguise," he purrs as he continues his trek of kisses to your neck.

"Okay, now you ruined the mood," you snort as you push his head back slightly.

"Aw whaddya mean," he rests his chin on your shoulder.

"... he's so young sweets, too young."

"I know."

"He looks like a young man but has the eyes of a man who works at an office 9-5. Tired, stressed, yet yearning."

You begin to play with Steve's fingers as you begin to ramble.

"He misses his mama Stevie, he stuck to me like glue. Kept looking at me, as if he was looking for affirmation. Like a child would."

"God Stevie, why do I want someone to look at me like that again?"

Your eyes begin to water as you subconsciously rub your stomach.

Steve frowned at your sadness, he knew you wanted kids. The both of you did. The thought of having a little bundle of y'all's creation running around the house made him smile. Of course y'all have tried but when you went to a doctor the worse news has erased that dream. As an interracial couple adopting a child was harder than it looked, so in the end it was replaced with two fur babies you have at home.

Oh, Harley and June, two energy filled great danes. They're probably sleeping in your shared bed, drooling all over the sheets. The thought of them brings a small to your face.

You look at Steve's blue eyes. Oh, how you love those blue eyes. You cup his cheek, he leans into it, it makes you snort. You peck his lips, once, twice.

"Let's go home Stevie," you hop off his lap. You bend over to grab your boots and bags. Steve of course can't help but take a glance at your ass. Those pants accentuated everything. You pop right back up and turn to Steve, who still sits on the couch looking up at you. "I have to go home and sew a leather suit for a 6'2 man."

Your husband groans as he reluctantly gets up from the couch, standing in front of you.

"Do you ever rest?" His hands grip your hips as he sways them a bit.

"Yes, but only during a full moon," you tease with a smile.

"That tracks," you let out a squeak of a shock. He turns you around and carries you bridal style.

"I'll have you know that I'm working because I want to," your arms automatically curl around his neck. Steve takes the bags from your hands and puts them as far up on his arms as possible.

"Mhmm, puff y'know Harley and June don't need set after set of pajamas, he remarks as you begin to walk out of the office.

"But they're cute~."

#steve binder x reader #black!reader #black reader #steve binder x black!reader #x reader #x black!reader #x black reader #x black!fem!reader #x black fem reader #black writer #darce montgomery #darce montgomery x reader

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