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#I’m already set on her backstory
neofelis----nebulosa · 6 months
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Watched kfp 4 and it’s definitely the weakest of the kfp movies but I still liked it.
#I’m a very visual person so even though the writing in many ways was Not The Best the visual storytelling like the first 3 movies …#…was on point#as for the negatives I mostly agree with the overall consensus#but there are a lot of things about it that were really good#and I think that outweighs the bad by quite a bit#as for the chameleon I was kinda right about her when I said it seemed like she had a lot of potential but wasn’t explorer enough#*explored#but yeah like I said before I even watched it everything about her visually was incredible#in any other animated movie I think she would be a great villain#but in this franchise she doesn’t live up to the standard#there were interesting paralels between her story and pos journey in the movie but it’s never expanded on#I think there was a big missed opportunity with her whole rules of the streets thing to explore her backstory and worldview#but it wasn’t taken#and I think with the whole villains from the previous movies returning thing they sort of set themselves up for disappointment#bc they used tagt to market the movie so heavily#fortunately I had already gone in accepting that they wouldn’t actually play an active role in the story#so I enjoyed their appearances for what they were#same with the furious 5#still unhappy with the decision to take the story in a direction that didn’t include them but I had accepted that they wouldn’t be in it…#…and I had come to peace with that#and I liked Zhens arc#it was extremely predictable but so are these movies in general#I don’t watch these movies to be surprised I watch them to see the characters grow#but I like that she was inspired by Pos kindness#no one had ever really shown her true kindness before#and I thought the significance of that was conveyed well#anyways I have a lot of thoughts on the movie but basically it was very imperfect but I think we got a lot of good stuff out of it
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quartings · 5 months
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The original Gravity Falls pitches and pilot just dropped!!
(Link for those who want it)
For those who don't wanna look through all of it, here are some highlights I found!
Interesting changes from the pitch (What Alex Hirsch showed Disney to make them greenlight the show):
Stan’s secret was that he’s secretly protecting the townsfolk from weirdness, nothing to do with Ford. No mention of Ford in the pitch at all. Stan also wanted Dipper and Mabel to be his successors in this version.
Mabel used to be the unhygienic one instead of Dipper.
Wendy was brunette and didn’t work as the Mystery Shack cashier, instead selling veggie juice out of her van.
As such, Soos (Jesús in this version) worked the register in addition to his handyman job in this version. He was a bit less of a hard worker here, watching telenovelas on the job sometimes, but still loves his job and is extremely loyal to Stan.
Robbie was almost exactly the same, parents’ backstory and all, but there’s an interesting note that he occasionally clashed with Gideon in this version (which we never got in the final show)
Speaking of which, Gideon’s last name in this version was Garrymore instead of Gleeful.
Gideon used to personally harass and prank Stan, going out of his way to vandalize Stan’s stuff himself.
Manly Dan was always planned to be Wendy’s dad. In this version, he hates the idea that his hipster daughter prefers conserving the environment instead of chopping down forests
(For those who wanted more Wendy episodes, I’m surprised Hirsch didn’t use this as a conflict for one of them- it makes her interesting without costing any of her “coolness”)
Sheriff Blubs was originally Sheriff “Blumps”. Durland has the same name likely because Hirsch said he’s named after a real guy.
With no Ford and no Journal mentioned, episodes were originally very different-
“The President’s Cabinet/Irrational Treasure.” Instead of via the journal, Dipper and Mabel find a record of Quentin Trembley in a box buried in the yard. No Pacifica mentioned here.
“Secret Dungeon” Dipper becomes obsessed with a recalled arcade cabinet. Mabel must try and save him by finding the original high scorer.
“Thtupid Thursday” One of the many ‘Shining Twins’ episode concepts Hirsch wanted to do. Dipper and Mabel learn ‘twin telepathy’ from some creepy twins, and soon regret it.
“Periodic Mabel” Mabel invents her own element for the science fair and Dipper is jealous.
“Only the Clonely/Boyz Crazy” The exact same episode just without Candy and Grenda. Sev’ral Timez is called “ReelBoyzzz” in this version.
“Big Dipper” With surprisingly no tie to Little Dipper, Dipper asks a fortune teller to make him older so he can win Wendy over. But she makes him 22, so he and Mabel have to undo the spell.
“Sweater off Dead” Mabel buys an antique sweater and is possessed by the soul of the granny who last wore it. Stan is terrified by the spirit because she reminds him of his ex-wife Marilyn (Deep Edalyn Clawthorne lore???) so Dipper must “Swexorcize” his sister and save her.
“Teed Off/The Golf War” With no Pacifica, this was originally a Dipper vs Gideon episode- No Lilliputtians, either. Instead, the 13th hole is cursed and traps the cast in a time loop.
Now, changes from the Production Pitch (I’m guessing for when the show was already greenlit and this was a way to brief crew members on what the show would 100% be about)
Stan’s secret (likely the portal) and the journal are now set in stone.
Emphasis on continuity and character development. Nothing gets “reset” by next episode. All plot developments are permanent.
All character names and designs are locked in. Pacifica has now been added, as well as Waddles, Gompers, Lazy Susan, Candy and Grenda, and McGucket (No mention or hint at his past here)
Interesting to note is that there is still zero outright mention of Ford and Bill in this version, even though multiple episodes were seemingly in production at this point.
Manly Dan’s conflict with Wendy from the original pitch is still here. Making it even more mindblowing that we never got it in the show
Blubs and Durland are described as a little more playful instead of mean like in the original pitch.
All episode examples made it into the show with no changes this time. They are Tourist Trapped, Legend of the Gobblewonker, Fight Fighters, Boyz Crazy, and The Land Before Swine.
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praisethegabs · 9 months
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HATE THAT I LOVE YOU
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leon kennedy x f!reader
synopsis: Leon can't stand seeing you around him. You know how much he hates you and you like having fun with it. Things get worse when the two of you get lost during one mission, with no comms to call for help. Leon blames you for everything, until he revels something he shouldn't.
warnings: ENEMIES TO LOVERS. descriptions of injuries, reader taking care of leon, comfort, fake marriage, descriptions of nudity, leon drunk and and reader teasing him. small reference to call of duty characters as part of reader backstory.
word count: 10k +
a/n: heavily inspired by "death of me" by wizthemc. cover from laughingwallaby on x/twitter. it isn't necessary to listen to the song, but I highly recommend it.
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"he’d set fire to the world around him but never let a flame touch her" senlinyu
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Leon Kennedy hates you more than anything else in this world. 
He hated the fact he was obligated to be your partner, hated the reckless way you always managed to finish a mission practically intact, and hated the way you always succeeded in something, no matter what it was. He hates you entirely, even your perfume is enough to get him on his nerves. 
He hates you ten times more because he knows you know he hates you, and you seem like you don't care about it at all. 
It all started three years ago, when he discovered he would be your new partner. Your name was pretty famous, and so were you. Not that he envies your success, but he never thought he would be under the shadow of someone like you. At first, Leon was very impressed with your skills and the way you work, but two weeks later, he started to despise you, and this feeling turned into hatred. 
You ain’t stupid, you can even feel all the hate he has towards you, and things get better because you have this masochist side of yours that makes you feel happy seeing how angry he can be at you. 
Although you don’t care about the reasons he hates you, the thing is, you can’t deny how attractive Leon can be, and having him as your partner makes every other agent jealous of how lucky you are. It’s Agent Kennedy, the one and only. The guy who rescued the president's daughter and basically did other significant things for the government. 
But, despite the Leon you know at work, his entire life is a blank page. You know absolutely nothing about him, and he doesn’t care about sharing his personal life details with someone he hates. You noticed a while ago that you are the only person Leon ignores and despises completely, and he avoids talking to you as much as he can, only when it is necessary. And when he opens that pretty mouth of his, it usually contains hateful words. 
At this point, you just do your job the way you see fit and come back home safely, not caring about Leon’s arrogant ass. 
“You could have killed us!” Leon snaps at you, his entire demeanor showing stress. He can’t avoid grabbing you by your arm and squeezing it tightly, which makes you groan.
“Well, golden boy, at least your ass is intact and here. I’d like to hear a nice ‘thank you’, how about it?” You smirk and tilt your head, and in response, his entire face turns red with anger.  
“You’re so fucking immature. Do you think you’ll be lucky for the rest of your life?” He raised his voice, his hand on your arm getting tighter by the second. The expression on your lips didn’t make things easier. “One day, you won’t be that lucky, and you’ll probably drop dead somewhere. I won’t be there to pick up your pieces. Do you want to risk your life? Go ahead, I don’t fucking care, but don’t drag me into your bullshit again. I’m your partner, not your babysitter” 
“I’m really surprised you consider me your partner, Kennedy,” you smirk again, and that smirk was enough to infuriate Leon more than he already was. 
Leon was on the verge of yelling at you, but the cold expression that quickly went up on his face was enough to make your smirk disappear. You have never seen him like that, it was weird. 
“Maybe I should change that,” he hissed with cold and dead eyes, finally letting go of your arm.
“Good luck with that, Kennedy,” you coo, crossing your arms over your chest as you speak. 
After saying that, the smile you gave him was enough to make Leon livid. He wanted so badly to take that ironic smile off of your lips, he wished that right now you were a man, so he could definitely teach you a lesson you wouldn’t forget so soon. However, you are the same annoying opposite gender that he hates so much. So, instead of beating the living shit out of you, he just watched you leave, turning in the opposite direction to calm himself down before he did something stupid. 
The last mission was very simple: locate and terminate a bioweapon. As you two went there to find the said bioweapon, the entire area was drowning in chaos. The area was isolated to prevent the bioweapon from running away, and alongside you and Leon, there was the entire squad ready to follow your lead. 
It should be simple, right? Here's the part where Leon thinks you're completely reckless. Instead of following the standard protocol, you thought it would be best to use yourself as bait and literally explode the entire block. Your stupid plan really worked, and the bioweapon died in the explosion; luckily, you were left with a few scratches and a bleeding ear — which the doctor said wasn't something serious, although you would be “deaf” for a few days from your right side. 
So, when you got home, the first thing you actually did was take a nap, which turned out to be deeper than you expected. You slept for twelve hours with your phone in airplane mode so that no one could disturb your sleep. The only thing you weren't counting on was waking up to the distant sounds of someone practically wanting to take your door down. Wearing your cat pajamas, your hair a complete mess, and your face swollen after so many hours sleeping, the last person you thought you would see was Leon. 
And he was right there. 
“Do you know I’m out of the clock at the moment, right?” you asked him, with a big yawn seconds later. His face wasn't one of the most friendly you've seen. 
“Yeah? Do you think I’m here because I want it?” Leon rolls his eyes, sounding annoyed and bored. 
“Well, golden boy, if you’re here to yell at me about what happened earlier, I suggest you wait until tomorrow. I’m definitely not in the mood for you,” you said, already closing the door, when Leon suddenly stopped you. “I always thought you were a weirdo, now I’m sure of it. What do you want?” 
“Get ready for our new assignment. And try to dress in something more... elegant.” Leon gave you the file from the next mission. Surprised, you started to read the file, and out of nowhere, you started to laugh in disbelief. 
“Recently married couple on their honeymoon? Is this some kind of sick joke?” You glanced at him, still laughing nervously at your new disguise with him. 
“Trust me, I asked the same question, and unfortunately, that's our new disguise. So, get your ass ready. We’ll be leaving in three hours, Ms. Kennedy,” he said with his Stoic and cold expression as always, giving you a ring made of white gold, which made you think how expensive it was. 
“I’m pretty sure our agency wouldn’t give us this type of accessory,” you said to him, taking a good look at the ring he gave you. White gold, with a beautiful sapphire and diamonds carved around the blue stone. 
“Don’t be late,” Leon said, ignoring your last commentary. “I’ll be waiting at the airport” 
Leon left without looking at your confused expression. You had to read the file at least three times until you finally understood the mission. Leon and you were going to pose as a recently married couple enjoying their honeymoon as you two investigate a famous billionaire that made its own wealth by selling bioweapons in the market. You sighed with the sudden stress, walking towards your room to prepare your bag. After finishing your bag, you caught yourself glancing again at the ring. You were sure the agency wouldn’t give this ring to Leon for a fake marriage. It was something else, but what? 
So, one hour later, you drove to the airport. At least this time, you weren’t late, and Leon wouldn’t be making a scene over it. You found him distracted, wearing sunglasses with his leather jacket, his hair shining in the sunlight. Leon seemed very focused on the book he was reading, and it was a big surprise to see him like that, especially because you knew nothing about him. 
“So, dear husband, are you ready to go?” you ask, seeing him put his book aside. He looked very beautiful with those sunglasses. 
“Yeah, sure.” He nodded, his voice sounding calm instead of the coldness you were used to. You noticed he was wearing his own wedding ring. 
“Will you tell me where these came from?” You started to walk next to him, referring yourself to the ring he gave you, hoping it would be a real answer. 
“Why do you care? It’s just a ring,” Leon replied, avoiding the subject as much as he could. 
“I don’t think it’s just a ring. It has some marks on it, like it was used before.” The egocentric smile on your lips made Leon take a deep breath. 
“It was from my mother, okay? It’s the last thing I had from her and my dad before they died. Satisfied?” Leon harshly replied to you, and you knew you had screwed up. You didn’t know about his family, and the way he replied made you realize it was a hard subject. 
“I’m sorry, Leon. I didn’t know,” you hissed, feeling your entire face burn with shame. 
“Like you care,” he replied in a cold tone, walking away from you towards the airport. 
The rest of the flight was absolute silence. Leon didn’t speak with you and had no intention to do so. You felt terrible, but you decided not to show him any feelings; the guy literally hated you, and showing how you felt was the last thing he would believe. So, thinking about all the years of free hate, you decided it was for the best to pretend you didn’t care.
Naturally, pretending that everything was fine was one of your best qualities. You were so good at hiding your own feelings that no one could read you or decipher your emotions. 
At the hotel, hours later, you were ready to follow Leon and finish the job. Deep down, you were expecting his coldness and his famous Stoic expression, along with his grumpy humor. However, you were caught off guard when he suddenly took your bags and smiled at you. He was, indeed, a full mystery. 
“C’mon, darling. I’ll take your bags for you.” When he said that, you noticed the “recently married couple” game was on. You glance at him and smile broadly, then kiss his cheek.
“Oh, babe, you’re so sweet to me. Thank you,” you said, giving him your bag and walking in front of him like you were some kind of model. Two people could play this game, right? 
After the check-in, you two walked between fake laughs until you reached the master bedroom. Leon could pay, and so could you, but you decided to let him play along since it was his mission, and you were just his annoying partner. 
“Such a cliché… having one bed,” you sighed at the sight of the master bed in the center of the room. 
“We’re married, it should look like that.” Leon rolled his eyes, leaving your bag close to the bed as he analyzed the entire room. 
“No, we’re not married. We’re pretending to be,” you said, sitting on the edge of the bed and smirking ironically at him. “And besides, why me? You said you wanted to leave. You could have asked for any other agent”  
“Who said I didn't ask?” Leon replied with the same ironic smirk on his lips, sitting on the armchair in front of you. 
“And what did they say?” Suddenly, you sounded more upset than your usual sarcastic demeanor. You hope Leon didn’t notice. 
“Unfortunately, they can’t give me another partner. Guess I’m stuck with you for God knows how long” He sounded annoyed for a moment, but you chose to ignore it completely. 
You decided you needed a bath. You took a few clothes from your bag and decided to “play” with him. Not only that, but you removed your clothes in front of him, sensually, trying to get some reaction from him. When you glanced at Leon, he was hard.
“What are you doing?” he asked, and you noticed he was breathing heavily. Now he was nervous, and it wasn't anger. 
“We are married. I guess this is what wives do in front of their husbands.” You wink at him, making your way to the bathroom wearing nothing but your lingerie. 
Leon was completely speechless. You could see him swallowing harder, his Adam’s apple going up and down faster. The devilish smile on your lips didn’t make things easier for him, either. It took a lot of strength from him to look anywhere else but you. Leon was clearly uncomfortable and nervous. 
“You know, if you want this mission to succeed, you must pretend you don’t hate me. And for that, you need to trust me, Kennedy. I know you despise my methods, and I know you’re anxious to get rid of me, and honestly, I don’t really give a shit about your teenage behavior,” you said from the bathroom, wrapping your now naked body around a white towel and opening the door again so you could see him. “So, I promise I’ll try my best to not screw everything up. Just try not to act like the asshole you are usually whenever you’re with me” 
“Oh, I’m the asshole now.” Leon finally seemed to wake up from his own trance, and his expression suddenly changed from Stoic to aggressive. "You've acted like a complete jerk since the first day we started to work together, and according to you, I’m the asshole here? You should look at yourself in the mirror, sweetheart” 
“Then why did you stay here with me this entire time? You could have split a long time ago, golden boy,” you say, crossing your arms in your chest, not intimidated by his behavior. 
“I told you. They won’t put me with another agent. I’m stuck with you, and trust me, I wish I could have left a very long time ago,” Leon replied coldly, his blue eyes almost icy with the way he was staring at you. 
But instead of your silence, you caught him off guard.
“I know you’re lying. If you snap your fingers, they will do everything you want. You just have to ask, since you’re their golden boy. They freaking love you, Kennedy, and there’s nothing they wouldn't do to please you. Don’t bullshit me,” you said, walking slowly towards him and hissing, your eyes shining with sarcasm. 
But Leon didn’t give you an answer. Instead, he took his leather jacket and left the room without saying something. You decided to calm yourself down and go straight for a bath, enjoying the candles and their arousal. After what seemed to be a long time in the tub, you left the tub and wrapped the towel around your body; the room was still empty, and you couldn't care less about Leon. If he wanted to act like a pampered kid, that was his problem, not yours. 
You enjoyed the time alone to do your skin care routine, and decided to take care of your own body as well. It was almost eight when the phone inside your room started to ring. 
“Ms. Kennedy, I’m sorry to interrupt, but your husband seems to be causing quite a scene in the hotel bar. I might have to ask you to pick him up; otherwise, I’ll have to ask security to take care of him,” the person on the other side says to you, and immediately, you sighed. 
“I’m sorry for the inconvenience, I’ll go get him right now. Thank you,” you said, forcing the most sweet tone of voice you could at the moment.  
You left the room thinking about ending Leon. He could definitely jeopardize the entire mission with his behavior, and this was unacceptable. When you found him in the bar, he was, indeed, causing a big scene. Leon was screaming and scaring the rest of the guests, and there were at least three security guards next to him. 
“Leon, darling, come on. You've had enough,” you said, approaching him and touching his shoulder softly. 
“Are you his wife?” one of the security guards asks you with a serious expression. You couldn’t blame the man, he was only doing his job. 
“Yes, and I am really sorry for my husband. I guess he’s just too carried away��” you said with the calmest tone of voice you could, trying your best to hold him tight. 
“Ma’am, you need to control him. He made a lot of mess in the bar.” The other looked severely at you, with an angry expression. 
“I’m here, aren’t I? Don’t worry about the trouble, we can pay for the inconvenience,” you replied in a harsh tone. Suddenly, Leon threw up, and his vomit fell on the floor. “And we can pay for that too”
“Suck on that, fuckers!” Leon smiled before you dragged him back to your room. 
In the silence of the hallway, Leon had a lot of difficulty walking properly. He was stumbling on his feet and saying incoherent things in your ear. You never saw him like that, and it was pretty weird being his babysitter. You wanted to kill him, but he couldn’t even stand, and possibly wouldn’t remember a thing the next day. 
“I hate you,” you muttered, dragging him across the hallway towards your room. 
“Why do you hate me?” Leon asks, his mouth smelling of alcohol and his words confused. “Am I not good enough?” 
“Where is this coming from?” You raised both of your eyebrows in visible confusion. Finally, you reached the room and unlocked the door, dragging Leon into the bathroom. 
“I tried… to be enough… I know I’m an asshole, but… I’m scared of being hurt again, and… I push people away from me… but you’re so different…” he says between drunken hiccups, which is almost funny, but completely unexpected. “I've liked you since the first time I saw you, and… and…” Leon throws up again in the toilet, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, before looking at you again. You were completely speechless. 
“I think you need a bath,” you muttered, still shocked by his words. Your hands were shaking, and for a moment, you had no idea what you should do. 
“No… I… I need to finish this because I don’t know when I’ll have the balls to do so again…” Leon grabs you tightly, not wanting to let go of you. Biting your lower lip, you nodded. “I know I said I hate you, but… but that’s not true. I only did that because… because I was scared and thought you would reject me… so I started to act like an asshole… I’m so sorry” 
“It’s okay… I should be sorry too, I didn’t make things easier for you since day one” you said to him, sounding more kind than you usually are. He won’t remember this conversation, you are sure of it. 
“I feel complete trash… I should’ve just… asked you instead of acting like an asshole…” Leon said this between other rounds of drunken hiccups. He’s pretty wasted. 
And before this conversation could end in another way, you decided to give him a cold bath. You didn’t remove his clothes, and he complained a lot when he felt the cold water on him. After that, you had to change his clothes, and when Leon saw you touching him, he turned hard again, although he was too drunk to even be ashamed. You had trouble laying him on the bed, but he didn’t struggle against you. 
“I love you,” he whispers before falling asleep. 
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The next morning, you decided to leave Leon alone for a while. You couldn’t explain to him what happened the night before because you were too shocked to say something. “I love you,” he said, and his words made a home in your head. How was that even possible?
Leon Kennedy, the guy who hated you with his entire being, said he loved you. He was drunk, and he probably didn’t mean any of those words. Maybe he was just playing a game with you, maybe that wasn’t true. However… drunk people tend to say things they usually wouldn’t say. So, there was a remote possibility that he was, indeed, telling the truth. How could you believe him? 
“Fuck… what happened?” Leon asks you when he woke up, squeezing his eyes. He had a terrible headache. 
“You got drunk last night and caused a lot of trouble in the bar,” you said, throwing at him a small, transparent bag with painkillers. 
“Shit, I can’t remember anything. My head hurts like crazy.” Leon looks at you, and you can see the effects of the hangover on his face. 
“Glad one of us has commitment to the job,” you said, sounding harsher than you wanted to be. Leon looks at you again, but completely confused this time. 
“What did I say?” he asks, and then, as you can notice, he sounds more desperate. If it were at another time, you would definitely take advantage of it, but his words echoed in your head again. 
“Nothing important. Just regular drunk stuff,” you say, shaking your shoulders, avoiding the subject that was hammering your head. 
"Fine.” He nods his head and stands up, walking to the bathroom. 
His words were floating in your head, and it was hard not to think about what happened the other night. At this point, you had no idea how you would finish the mission. Not with his words hammering in your head, penetrating your chest, and making you feel things you really don’t want to.
You hate Leon Kennedy and everything he made you feel.
He comes out of the bathroom, and he has a towel wrapped around his waist. The sight you had of him, all muscular, his body sculpted by the gods, walking like that in his own glory. It made your stomach twitch. You felt your face burning, and right now, you wanted to dissipate from the earth. 
“We have a meeting in one hour.” You had to find a lot of strength inside you to not stare at his chest when you spoke to him. 
“Can you go alone? I’m not really in perfect condition.” Leon sits on the bed, looking at you. He seems to not realize what’s happening. You, in response, shake your head. 
“No, I can’t. Since we’re married, you need to come with me. It sucks, huh?” you replied with a cold smile, looking at him with dead eyes. 
“Jesus, you’re really a pain in the ass,” he says in a deep breath, reaching for the painkillers. 
You decided to ignore his commentary and get ready for the day. According to your new schedule, the man you two went to investigate would be in a meeting and then head to the restaurant. It was the perfect opportunity. You decided to wear a short black dress, making your thighs visible, and a V-neckline, showing a little of your breasts. 
"Fuck” Leon mutters when he sees you, and you can notice he’s a little nervous. Maybe he’s starting to remember what he did last night.
“What?” you ask him, raising both of your eyebrows.
“I can’t find my phone,” he replies angrily, looking the entire room over to find his phone.
“It’s in the drawer.” You rolled your eyes, finishing with the makeup and your hair. Leon sighed in relief when he finally found his phone. “You’re welcome”
He took a few minutes until he finished getting ready. Leon was wearing a navy blue shirt, black shorts, and sunglasses, the same ones he was using at the airport. He was looking very beautiful, but you decided to keep your thoughts to yourself.
“Ready?” he finally asks you, looking at you with some curiosity. You nodded, grabbing your purse and walking next to him outside the room.
The hotel’s restaurant was filled with the clinking of cutlery and the low murmur of conversations. Leon and you decided to sit across from each other at a small, intimate table, your gazes scanning the room for any sign of your target.
The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the soft jazz playing in the background provided a calming facade to the tension that lingered between them. Leon, with disheveled hair and a pair of sunglasses that only partially hid the evidence of a rough night, rubbed his temples and winced.
"Ugh, I think I might die. I can't believe you dragged me into this after last night. I swear, my head is splitting." he muttered, pretending to be reading the menu.
"This is a mission, Leon, not a vacation. You knew what you signed up for when you took that last shot. Now, pull yourself together. We need to find our guy, and your hangover isn't helping." you shot him a withering look, your eyes sharp beneath a cascade of your hair
"I just don't get why we couldn't have rescheduled this. I mean, who plans a stakeout the morning after an undercover party? It's like the universe is against me." Leon leaned back in his chair, wincing at the light filtering through the bistro's window.
"We don't have the luxury of rescheduling. This is our best chance to catch him off guard, and we can't afford any mistakes. Your lack of professionalism could jeopardize the entire mission. So, get over yourself and focus." You clenched your jaw, your frustration evident.
Leon sighed, realizing he had hit a nerve. He straightened up and took off his sunglasses, revealing bloodshot eyes.
"Fine, fine. I get it. No more complaints. Let's just eat and keep an eye out for our guy. Maybe the food will cure this hangover from hell." he said, waving his hand at the waitress.
"Good. We need to stay sharp. Our target is slippery, and we can't afford to miss any signs. Just remember, we're a married couple on a lunch date. Act natural." you nodded, your stern expression softening slightly.
As the minutes went by, the restaurant was an oasis of calm, its subdued lighting and plush furnishings a stark contrast to the pounding headache Leon was nursing.
Besides his mood and his complaints about the headache, you were the one who maintained a professional demeanor. However, your patience was wearing thin. The clinking of silverware and muted conversations formed a backdrop to your undercover mission.
"Can we make this quick? My head feels like it's about to split open." Leon winced, massaging his temples after minutes in silence.
"You brought this upon yourself, Leon. You can't let your personal life interfere with the mission. We have a job to do." You shot him a disapproving glance.
"I didn't expect last night to turn into a frat party. It was supposed to be a simple gathering." Leon sighed, regret etched on his face.
"Well, you should have thought about that before you started to behave like a pampered kid. But guess what, Kennedy? We can't change that now. We're on a timeline, and we can't afford mistakes. So, suck it up and focus." your eyes narrowed, your tone of voice sounding angry. I love you, his words, still echoing in the back of your head,
As he perused the menu, Leon's eyes flickered across the room, and he stiffened.
"There he is," he muttered, nodding discreetly toward your target who had just entered the restaurant.
"Perfect timing, Leon. Just what we needed." your gaze followed Leon's, and you cursed under your breath.
You two ordered quickly, your argument temporarily set aside as you two maintained the appearance of a normal, albeit slightly disgruntled, married couple. The target settled at a nearby table, engaged in conversation with an associate. As your food arrived, Leon's hangover-induced irritability resurfaced.
"Can we at least eat in peace before we tail him? I'm not in the mood for this undercover drama." he complains again.
"Your mood doesn't matter. We need to catch this guy. Finish your food quickly, and we'll tail him discreetly." you shot him a stern look.
Leon grumbled but complied, glancing over his shoulder at the target. The argument simmered beneath the surface, waiting for the opportune moment to erupt. As the two of you left the restaurant, the hangover weighed heavily on Leon, intensifying his annoyance. You kept your voice low as you two trailed the target through the hotel's corridors.
"Leon, I don't care about your hangover. We can argue later. Right now, we need to focus on the mission." you sharply told him in annoyance.
Leon shot back, his tone sharp, "Well, maybe if you were a bit more understanding, we wouldn't have to argue at all. This headache is killing me."
You shot him a pointed look but decided to let it go for the moment as you two approached the front desk to inquire about your room. The target was believed to be staying on one of the upper floors, and obviously, you two needed to gather information without raising suspicion. As you stepped into the elevator, Leon swayed slightly, earning a disapproving glance from you. The elevator doors closed, and Leon muttered:
"I'll be fine. Let's just get this over with."
The doors opened to a corridor adorned with plush carpeting and dimmed lights. You and Leon maintained their cover, acting the part of the honeymooning couple as you two made your way down the hall. Just as the both of you reached the door to the suspected target's room, a sudden chill crept up Leon's spine.
A group of imposing figures, undoubtedly the target's security detail, emerged from the elevator behind you. Your eyes widened as you discreetly tugged on Leon's arm, directing his attention to the unexpected threat.
"Leon, we've got company," you whispered urgently.
“Well, sweetheart, you won’t like this” Leon said, turning himself to you.
“What-”
Before you could even speak, you felt his lips crushing against yours. Something about his kiss made you feel something inside your chest. The taste of alcohol mixed with mint, the way his tongue danced inside your mouth, it was something you never felt and tasted before.
Leon tilted your chin upward, creating the perfect illusion of a stolen moment between two infatuated lovers. The security guards, momentarily thrown off by the unexpected display, hesitated in their approach. You felt him break the kiss, your eyes meeting with a shared understanding.
“That was close” he whispers, holding your hand as you two walk together in the corridor.
But you were left without any words. His kiss caught you completely off guard and for some stupid reason, you felt your legs were failing you. Something about the way Leon's lips pressed against yours sparked an internal conflict. His kiss was not one of disdain; it was fervent, almost desperate. In that moment, the line between pretense and reality blurred, and you found yourself torn between the mission and your own conflicting emotions.
As you walked in silence next to him, the tension between you two became palpable. Leon, ever the professional, maintained his stoic expression, his eyes scanning the horizon for any potential threats, even with the hangover state. You, on the other hand, couldn't shake off the unease that accompanied you every step. You stole a glance at Leon, his features carved in light of the hallway.
Suddenly, the tranquility of the night shattered as a series of sharp cracks pierced the air. Bullets whizzed past you two, sparking against the cobblestone streets. You and Leon instinctively dove behind the cover of a wall as the realization hit — you two were the targets now.
"Move!" Leon shouted over the chaos, grabbing your arm and propelling you forward.
The rhythmic staccato of gunfire followed you two, echoing through the maze of narrow alleys. The assailants were relentless, shadows in pursuit, fueled by an unseen vendetta. You two sprinted through the labyrinthine corridors, your breaths mingling with the desperate echoes of your footfalls. Leon's mind raced, analyzing escape routes and potential hiding spots. You, feeling your heart pounding, cast glances over your shoulder, your instincts sharp as you matched Leon's every move.
The honeymoon facade shattered as the two agents sprinted down the corridor, bullets whizzing past the two of you. Panic and urgency replaced the hangover-induced haze in Leon's mind. You two reached a stairwell, taking it two steps at a time, the footsteps drowned out by the chaos unfolding behind you.
As you two burst onto a lower floor, you spotted an emergency exit. Without hesitation, you burst through the door, finding yourselves in a garden. The adrenaline-fueled escape continued through the green labyrinthine surrounding the hotel, leaving the luxurious facade behind as you and Leon navigated the maze, chased by both the consequences of the cover being blown and the remnants of the security detail.
It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.
Apparently, the said billionaire found out about the two of you, and now, Leon and you had to run somewhere else safe, leaving all your belongings in the hotel. There were gunshots everywhere, and you had to fight for your dear life, protecting you and Leon with a marble statue as a form of barricade to prevent being shot.
“This isn’t how I expected my honeymoon to be,” Leon muttered, shooting one of the security guards.
“This isn’t a honeymoon either,” you replied, firing your gun at the guard, killing him with a perfect headshot. “We are not even married”
“Well, this isn’t how I imagined it, anyway. We need to get out, Ms. Kennedy,” Leon said, offering his hand to you, which you took without thinking twice. You started to run, with Leon covering your back.
You could hear the security guards running after you, two more gunshots. Likewise, you ran for your life, not daring to look behind you, knowing Leon was right behind you, making sure you were protected, which was very odd, considering the history between the two of you.
At the moment, it's the last thing you're worried about. After a few minutes of running, you managed to escape the guards and find a place to hide. You were breathing heavily, and shaking.
“Are you okay?” Leon asks you, looking at the direction you two came from.
“Why do you care?” you simply replied, coughing a little as you tried to catch your breath.
“Do you think I don’t remember what I said last night? C’mon, I might be a drunk asshole, but I don’t forget things easily.” Leon glanced at you, which was more sympathetic than usual.
“This isn’t fair. You can’t say things like that after treating me like garbage for years,” you snapped at him, finally letting your feelings go without any shame. “You can’t say you love me, and the next day you can’t barely look at my face. You can’t say you love me when the only thing that comes from your mouth is hate and disgust. This isn’t fair, and you can’t play like that with me”
After saying that, you decided to walk yourself out and leave Leon alone. Who the hell did he think he was? He had no right to play with your feelings like that. You were so angry at him for throwing that on your shoulders with no responsibility.
Besides, you had important things to deal with, not his bullshit. Your hands were shaking like crazy, and you realized that you had no control over your feelings, and this was very dangerous, especially in your line of work. You needed to calm yourself down, and you needed to do it fast.
Hours later, everything was quiet. Leon was nowhere to be seen, because you didn’t notice when he went missing in the first place, and you couldn't care less about him. It was obviously a stupid idea to try to get back to the hotel, knowing it would be heavily secured after what happened earlier. But, somehow, you felt something very wrong.
The gunshot noises out there were exactly what you didn’t want to hear. You heard screams and loud voices, and immediately, your hand fell to your gun. You heard footsteps, and by the sound, you knew this person was supporting his body weight on his left leg, and was limping heavily. When you were about to attack, it was him.
“What the hell?” you gasped in shock, seeing him limping and, of course, injured.
“I tried to get our comms back” he whimpered almost quietly, as you helped him sit down. He was breathing heavily, his hand pressing tightly on his ribs. “But, as you can see, it didn’t go well.”
“And you say I'm reckless, right?” you muttered, trying to see the size of the damage on him, although he whined again. “You could've died in there, asshole”
“Now I understand why you do things this way,” Leon chuckles, but then he groans in pain, his grip on his ribs getting tight. “It’s way more fun”
“Fun? Are you out of your mind, Kennedy?” you snapped at him. If Leon wasn’t injured at the moment, you would definitely beat the living shit out of him. “I don’t do things like that for fun!”
“Keep your voice down, sweetheart. I don’t want to get back home inside a coffin,” Leon said, as he pressed his hand on your mouth to keep you quiet. In the sudden silence, you were able to hear more footsteps, and Leon kept pressing his hand on your mouth. A few minutes later, everything went silent again.
“I’m not… okay” he mutters, and his eyes meet yours. Blue like the ocean. And then, you finally see the blood spot on his shirt — the same spot he was trying to hide from you. “I’m sorry”
“I swear to God, if you dare to die on me, I’ll personally kill you, Kennedy,” you replied, and then you started to press his wound to prevent him from bleeding to a certain death.
But he smiled. It was a faint smile, but he was really smiling at you. You saw him raise his hand, and he touched your hair, moving the strands that fell on your face. The way he was looking at you, so sad and weak, it was like he was saying goodbye.
“You look so... beautiful.” His voice seems weak, and his breath starts to become more shallow. “I guess… this is what angels look like”
“C’mon, Leon, don’t you dare die on me,” you said as you noticed yourself getting more anxious by the second.
He smiled again and kept looking at you with those beautiful blue eyes. Slowly, he started to close his eyes, and his breath got more shallow, indicating he was losing consciousness. The more you tried to keep him awake, the more he seemed lost. You were slowly losing him.
“Condor One! Condor Two,” someone called you two. It was your squad.
“We’re here” you shouted at them, your hands filled with Leon’s blood as you waved at your squad. “He’s injured and losing a lot of blood”
“Don’t worry, we’re taking you two,” the leader said as the team approached you with medical equipment.
You couldn’t describe the stress you felt with everything that happened in the meantime. Did you two succeed in the mission? Was it over? You couldn’t know. Not until you were sure Leon was safe and sound.
From the helicopter, you could see the sirens, the local police, and the agents from the government. It was almost unbelievable, but it was true. The operation was a success, after all. You glanced at Leon. He was sleeping, or at least he seemed to be.
You tried to rest, but it seemed unreachable. Your body was electric, filled with constant energy that prevented you from closing your eyes. You wanted to sleep badly, but your concern about him was enough to keep you awake. When the helicopter finally landed at the hospital heliport, Leon was immediately taken into surgery. As for you, you had no other option but to wait.
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Hours later, you had no news about him, and the anxiety was eating you alive from the inside. At this point, your body was less tense than before, and the first signs of stress and tiredness were finally showing up. You were sitting in a chair, in an empty white hallway, waiting. The hours seemed to slip through your fingers, slowly.
You sighted a kid playing with a purple teddy bear, and for a moment, you started to wonder about the life you led. The choices you made and how you ended up in your job. It was weird to think that while other people had normal lives, you had to risk yours every day, to make sure they would live in a safe world.
It sounded selfish to think like that, but you had every reason to do so since you couldn’t have a normal life. That word didn’t exist in your dictionary. Nor in your days.
Then, you see yourself playing with Leon’s mother's ring on your finger. For a brief moment, you imagined how your life would be if you were married and raising kids. Then, you push away these thoughts; motherhood isn’t your style, not even a married life.
“Ms. Kennedy?” you hear the doctor call you, and the sound of Leon’s surname addressed to you like you were his real wife makes your heart ache.
“Is he okay?” Your voice sounded more hoarse than you thought it would, a small consequence of being silent for so long. The look on the doctor’s face said there wasn’t good news.
“Your husband has lost a lot of blood, but we managed to stop the bleeding, and the surgery went well. Our main concern is with his brain injury…” The doctor pauses for a brief moment, wondering how to tell you the next news. “But, unfortunately, he’s in a coma.”
The news came at you like a violent wave. Suddenly, the world around you stopped, and you couldn't hear anything else. Your eyes were wide open, your chest was burning and aching, and for some stupid reason, you didn’t want to believe those words. How could Leon be in a coma? It was your thing to play reckless, he had no right to leave you like this.
You saw the doctor talking to you, but you couldn’t hear anything; everything around you was running slowly. What the hell was he saying? His lips moved slowly, just like the rest of the entire world, but you managed to understand: he was asking you if you were okay or if you needed something.
You felt like you were drowning, unable to reach the surface, surrounded by darkness. You wanted to scream and cry, but you couldn’t. You felt trapped by an invisible force, holding you tight and keeping you shut.
It was the sight of Chris that made you turn back to reality, and finally, the scream that was trapped in your throat came out from the core of your lungs.
“It’s okay, I got you,” Redfield said quickly as he held you before you fell to the ground. Your legs were shaking just like the rest of your body. “It’s okay”
“It was my fault, Chris.” Your voice was muffled by desperate chokes and sobs. “He’s in a coma, and it’s my fault”
“It’s not your fault, okay? It could’ve happened to you or him. Leon knows what he does, and I’m sure he did that to protect you" Chris tries his best to comfort you, although it seems impossible at the moment. He still holds you tight, for which you are very grateful, because you know you’ll fall if he lets you go.
Leon had no one in his life. You knew that the moment he told you about the ring. The “family” he had consisted of Chris and Claire, Jill, and Rebecca. You had no room for this. Leon made that pretty clear years ago, but now everything is different. You had to tell everyone what went wrong, how he got injured, and why it ended like that. You had to describe the entire mission, you had to remember everything. Now you were sitting again, with Claire holding your hand, while Jill and Chris were talking with Rebecca. Your eyes were locked on your hands, still stained with his blood. You were completely shocked, with no reaction or words.
“He’ll wake up, I know he will,” Claire whispers as a way to comfort you and give you kind words.
“He said he loves me,” you managed to say, although you doubted Claire would hear it. You wanted to hold onto something real, that would help you deal with what was happening.
“He always did, I’m glad he finally told you that,” Claire said, and you were a little surprised she heard you. More surprised to hear something you thought would never exist.
“But I don’t think that’s true. He always hated me.” You finally look at her, your eyes seeing something different from the dried blood in your hands.
“Do you think Leon is capable of hating you? He’s so in love with you, he can’t even hide it,” Claire said, and then she smiled largely while holding your hands.
But you find it hard to believe those words. Your mind was conflicted between what Claire was saying and what Leon said before he fainted. You wanted desperately to believe it, but deep down, you weren't sure. You finally received authorization to see him, with the benefit of being his “wife” and a government agent, but when you stepped inside his room, seeing all those loud machines around his body and a giant bandage on his ribs, his clothes were perfectly folded in the chair. His skin was pale and cold to the touch. He was almost lifeless, and seeing him like that made you sob again.
“I’m sorry… I never wanted to see you hurt,” you muttered, hoping he would hear it. You held his hand, praying he would wake up. “If you can hear me, then come back to us... I miss you fighting with me”
But there was nothing — not even a small squeeze on your hand. You were trying to convince yourself that he heard you and that he was coming back to you, and that was the lie you were desperately trying to believe. How silly you were. How desperate and pathetic you felt. It could be days, weeks, months, or years, how could you possibly predict when he would wake up? It was up to him.
“You won’t get rid of me that easily, Kennedy,” you said last, as a single tear fell from your eye. You wanted to be brave for him.
And as an answer, he squeezed your hand weakly.
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Three months later.
“Goddammit, this hurts!” Leon groaned angrily at you when you tried to remove the bandage from his ribs to clean it.
“Stop moving, asshole,” you said back, glancing at him and then rolling your eyes. “Then it won’t hurt”
“You’re so fucking gentle,” he muttered, taking a deep breath. You waited until he stopped moving so you could change the bandage.
“Hey, I’m not the one with open wounds,” you teased him, then finished removing the bandage, being extra careful with the stitches on his skin.
“How does it look?” Leon asks with a soft voice. You noticed that he never actually looked at the wound.
“Terrible, but healing,” you smiled kindly at him, cleaning around the wound with the antiseptic and the wet cotton. You saw his skin chilling, and soft groans coming from his mouth.
Leon hated seeing his scars. He hated having them; he hated knowing what caused them, which was why he barely sees himself in the mirror; he avoids his own image. One month ago, Leon woke up from his coma, and although he was very confused, at first, due to his brain injury, he had no memories of the mission or what happened before he got hurt. Chris had to explain everything to him like he was a toddler learning how to communicate.
“So… that was it,” Chris tells him, after explaining why he was in a hospital bed with a huge wound on his ribs.
“Shit… I’m tired,” Leon muttered, closing his eyes for a moment and trying to relax his beaten-up body on the bed. “Two months?”
“Yep. You slept like a baby,” Chris chuckled, making fun of the situation to lighten up his mood.
“Where is…” Leon started, as it seems pretty obvious that you weren’t there with Chris.
“Oh…” The smile on Chris’s lips disappeared slowly, and he became more serious, sitting more appropriately on the chair. “Well, um…”
For some unknown reason, Leon was anxious. He didn’t know why, but he felt eager to know why you weren’t there with him; he was sure he heard you say you missed him fighting with you, but at this point, he wasn’t sure if it was a dream or reality. And the way Chris kept looking at him made his heart beat ten thousand times faster. When Chris was about to tell Leon about you, someone knocked on the door, and when the person came inside, Leon felt disappointed to see it was a nurse with his medication.
“Mr. Redfield, you’ll have to leave now. The visiting hour ended a few minutes ago, and the patient needs to rest,” the nurse says, leaving the tray with Leon’s medication on his bedside table. Leon sighed, glancing at the window, while he laid his head on his pillow to rest.
“Before I go… I want you to have this,” Chris said, getting closer to his bed with something in his hand. Leon glanced back, curious. When Chris opened his hand, Leon saw his mother’s ring, and he felt sad. “You know, she was here with you the entire time”
“Then why is she not here now?” Leon asks, holding the ring in his hand and avoiding Chris’s gaze.
“Give time to time,” Redfield said before leaving his room.
Leon hated being in the hospital with different wires connected to his body. Nurses checked on him constantly, asking a lot of questions, taking him through thousands of exams to see if he was doing better or worse, and doing physiotherapy. They said the brain injury had damaged his body, and, besides the wound on his ribs, Leon had broken his arm and would have a disability in walking and doing normal things. Of course, with the proper therapy, he would walk again and have a normal life, but he needed to cooperate.
Leon had already convinced himself you didn’t care, but on the third week after he woke up, he was taken into another exam. One hour later, when he came back to his room, he found you asleep on the chair, wrapped around your jumper, seeming tired to the bones. The nurse helped him lay back on his bed, and he remained silent, just watching you sleep. He wanted to keep every detail about you, even the small ones. Suddenly, you moved on the chair and woke up, yawning. Nothing he had rehearsed in his head prepared him for this moment.
He had given up on hope, he thought you would never see him again. Maybe you had found another partner, or maybe you had moved on with your life. Perhaps you just didn’t care about him. Maybe and more maybe…
"Hey,” you said, noticing he was too shocked to even pronounce a word. “How are you?”
“Fine, I guess,” he managed to say, and he wanted to punch himself because he sounded very rude. “That’s not what I meant…”
But, to his surprise, you just smiled. Chris told you about his amnesia, he told you that Leon wouldn’t be able to walk for a long time because of the damage to his brain from the injury. You were hoping he didn’t remember what happened before he fainted that day. It would be easier for both of you.
“I came here because Chris told me you woke up, I wasn’t in the country, so…” you said, feeling your cheeks blush a little. He nodded quietly, and the expression on his face told you he was sad. “I had to finish our last mission. Do you remember anything?”
“Not so much, everything is a little messed up, and every time I try to remember something, my head hurts,” he says, taking a deep breath and laying his head on the pillow again. “I remember me in front of your apartment telling you about our mission; I remember giving you my mother’s ring; and the fight we had at the airport… I remember a few things from the hotel we were at, but nothing more… Sometimes I have a few flashbacks. I remember getting hurt trying to get our comms back, breaking my arm, but..."
“It’s okay, don’t force yourself. You know you’ll remember eventually,” you said to him, trying to give some comfort. “You’re alive and recovering, that’s all that matters now, Leon”
“It sucks being here… I want to go home, but people keep telling me I’m better here and that medical bullshit,” he sighs, then he looks outside his window again.
“About that… I’m here to offer something,” you said to him, already thinking it would be a terrible idea.
“What would that be?” he asks you, raising both of his eyebrows in a slightly curious tone.
“Come live with me…” you simply said, shaking both of your shoulders like it was the most normal thing in the world. “Until you recover, of course”
At first, having him live with you proved to be a difficult task, mostly because Leon thought he was a burden and strongly avoided his appointments. In his head, he could treat himself alone, he could take care of his wounds and do the chores in the house. However, he could barely leave the bed, and he complained every time you tried to convince him to attend his appointments. Even Chris tried to coax him into getting out of the house, but Leon refused like a pampered kid. It was very difficult.
“You know I can’t do everything on my own, right?” you asked him after finishing changing and cleaning the wound on his rib.
“I know, but… I’m sorry,” he says with a deep sigh, looking at you with guilt. “I know I’m making this more difficult than it should be…”
“It’s not your fault, but I really need you to understand that sometimes even the toughest agent needs help. You can’t avoid medical care forever, Leon,” you said, looking straight into his eyes.
“I’m an asshole, right?” He managed to smile a little, then he looked at you. “I never thanked you for taking care of me”
“What can I say? You didn’t make things easier, either.” You smiled at him, looking into his blue eyes.
“I have something I need to tell you,” Leon whispers, then bites his lower lip and avoids your eyes.
“Shoot me”
“I… remember what happened… before the coma. I remember the mission,” he says, finally taking the courage to look into your eyes. You decided to stay calm, but not cold. “I was scared, I never thought I would almost die… but then you were there with me, and I felt at peace”
“Why did you give me your mother’s ring?” you decided to ask. You needed to understand.
“Because it was personal, I wanted you to have something personal from me… I knew one day I would come close to death trying to get your ass out of danger, and I thought you would feel better having something mine,” he explained, and then, everything made sense. He truly cared about you.
“You’re such a fucking idiot, Kennedy.” You smiled at him, then you laughed.
“Hey… what’s wrong? Are you okay?” you asked after knocking on his door. He glanced at you, his eyes swollen after crying for God knows how long.
This entire month that you took care of him was enough to learn how to read him. Before, he was pure mystery — the person who hated you the most. Now you know when he’s happy, angry, or uncomfortable. You know how to decipher him, read his face, and understand how he feels.
Leon still sleeps in the guest’s room, but sometimes you can hear him wince and cry, and sometimes you can hear him sobbing. You woke up to the sound of him crying and decided to finally ask. You had been wondering for weeks, thinking he wouldn’t talk about this subject. But you needed to try it, anyway.
“I… it’s nothing, I’m okay,” he said, quickly wiping the tears from his eyes.
“C’mon, you can talk to me. We’re friends now,” you say again, sitting on the edge of his bed and smiling.
“It’s just a silly nightmare…” Leon whispers softly, looking at his arm plaster. You had signed your name on it, followed by Chris, Claire, Jill, and Rebecca. “It’s Raccoon City. The same night over and over again”
“You were there? I’m surprised,” you said to him, and he smirked slightly.
“I was a rookie cop, late as hell on my first day. I had recently graduated from the Police Academy,” Leon explains, gazing at the ceiling, then at you again. “I survived that night, met Claire, saved Sherry… then, they forced me to work for them, and here I am”
“Forced? What do you mean?” You raised your eyebrows, confused.
“It was a deal I made to keep Sherry safe… I never told this to anyone,” Leon whispers, and you imagine how cruel it was for him to be forced to work all those years for the government. “How about you? How did you end up being an agent?”
“Before the government, I was in the army. Special Forces. I worked with Task 141 across the earth, until I decided to leave before things went to shit” you tell Leon, which makes him glance at you completely surprised. “I miss my buddies Price, Roach, Soap, and Ghost”
“It’s so weird to think how our lives were different… I was forced to join the government, you decided to do it for yourself…” Leon whispers, analyzing his own choices in life. “Now I can truly understand why you work the way you do…”
“I made a lot of bad choices, I’ll admit that. But after everything I did in the past… you actually get used to your own method of working,” you say to him, hugging your legs. “Maybe that’s why I do things the way I do. I like the adrenaline and danger that come with it”
“I’m sorry for calling you reckless,” Leon said after a brief moment of silence.
“That’s okay, trust me. I've heard worse things before,” you chuckled.
Leon seemed more calm, although his eyes were still red and swollen. You heard the first drops of rain hitting his window, and the noise of the lightning outside announced the rain. For a moment, there was only silence between the two of you.
“I hate this stupid arm plaster,” Leon suddenly says, and then you laugh.
“But there are our names signed on it. And I made a drawing when you were asleep” You showed him the drawing you made. It was a cat and a few flowers.
“Flowers? Really?” Leon frowned, glancing at you.
His last appointment provided good news. His ribs seemed to be healing, and soon he would be able to remove the arm plaster. After the appointment, you drove Leon to his physiotherapy session, and for the first time after he woke up from the coma, he finally decided to cooperate with himself. For some unknown reason, he wasn’t grumpy today.
“What? They’re cute!” you protested while laughing at his reaction. “But I’m serious, you need to sleep now. Tomorrow you have that physiotherapy session and an appointment”
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“Well, if you keep doing home exercises, soon you’ll be fully recovered,” the doctor tells him, sitting in front of you two.
“Home exercises?” Leon asks, looking briefly at you, knowing you would definitely force him to do his exercises.
“Yes. It’ll help ease the pain and help with your mobility.” She nods, noting something on the paper. “And, most important, you can’t avoid your appointments, Mr. Kennedy”
“Yeah… I’ll keep coming,” he said, his entire face red as a tomato.
When you drove him back home, he certainly wasn’t expecting a surprise from your little family. Claire, Rebecca and Jill decorated your entire apartment, while Chris went to buy food and drinks. Because of the thousands of pills he was taking, Leon wasn’t allowed to drink any alcohol, which you gladly thanked him for. He was better sober than drunk.
The smile on his lips and the way his eyes were shining were more than he could put into words. You noticed that Claire even bought party letter decorations that were hanging from your ceiling, with the sentence ‘Happy Birthday, Leon’ in blue and yellow.
“Come on, you guys gotta be kidding me” he laughs with happiness, hugging everyone carefully.
“What? You really thought we would forget your birthday, golden boy?” you tease him, drinking soda and giving him one cup.
“This is… amazing” Leon seemed lost in his own words. “I don’t deserve you guys”
After singing him the birthday song, you guys celebrated his birthday with those blue birthday hats and a special cake the girls baked for him. Chris was talking to him, while you and Rebecca were chatting about types of coffee. Jill and Claire seemed to be very focused on their own conversation about TerraSave.
��Guys… I wanted to thank everyone. I know sometimes I’m a pain in the ass, but after everything that happened to me in the past three months, I have a lot to thank for… especially you.” Leon glances at you with shyness. “You took me into your home, took care of me, and had to hear every stupid joke I made, even my grumpy humor”
“That was the hard part, believe me,” you say, winking at him, which makes everyone laugh.
“I know. I was a jerk, and we had a lot of arguments with each other, but recently I found out that…” he paused for a moment, certainly thinking about what to say. “Life can be shitty sometimes, and bad things can happen to us… and this last mission made me see things I thought would never happen to me. I nearly died, but I got a second chance, and I don’t intend to waste it”
You knew exactly what he was talking about. Living with him for the past three months proved to be an interesting task. You knew him, and that was enough. Hours later, it was only you and him, sitting on your couch as the rain struck against the window. The fireplace gives off a warm temperature inside the living room, and, despite the silence, you two are more connected than before.
“I must say, there’s one thing I’m sure won't change,” Leon laughs, looking at his hands, after a long time of silence. “Being almost killed truly made me see things…”
“Such as?” You lifted your head to look at him.
“First, I actually never asked to be reassigned to another partner. I only told you that because I wanted to see how you would react” he said, looking at you. “And…”
“What's the second?” You laugh at his confession, mostly because you knew that a long time ago.
“The second is… I really hate the way that I love you”
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mountainsandmayhem · 9 months
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Stay Still, Little Dove
Joel Miller x Female!Reader
18+
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Series Masterlist
Summary: Joel takes matters into his own hands to deal with your newly insatiable sex drive with a little help from a u shaped friend. TW: softdom!Joel, female orgasms (like a lot of them), oral (fem!rec), this is all about her A/N: THANK YOU for all the comments, likes and reblogs on my last story! I fully believe only 1 or 2 people will read these and I'm just floored by the response so far. I wish I could write without a plot, but I added some backstory about these two. Word Count: 4.3k
Ellie has always been a tornado in your life. Her biological mom was your childhood best friend. She had her demons, so you can’t say you were surprised when during her weekend trip to visit you with her new baby she disappeared, leaving you with little Ellie. 
Overnight, you went from a 22-year-old young woman starting your third year of your degree to a 22-year-old adoptive single mom pushing through your third year of college. 
Your parents were helpful, driving four hours from the small town you grew up in every weekend so you could work or do homework. They offered to take Ellie for a while or help you find people to adopt her, but that little tornado of a girl was your priority and you weren’t going to abandon her like her mother. 
She broke her arm at 2 on her big wheel, and at 3 she needed 10 stitches across her eyebrow from when she tried to leap from the kitchen table to the granite island. Safe to say the granite won as she still bears that scar today. At 4, she bolted up the stairs to the high dive and jumped off without an ounce of fear. Thank god she was already a strong swimmer.
She seemed to crave chaos, so when she befriended the girl with wildly curly hair on her first day of school you just shook your head, predictable little tornado. 
Thankfully Sarah Miller was a sweet and kind-hearted girl, maybe even a little shy. It also helped that Sarah’s young dad, who didn’t wear a wedding ring, resembled a Greek god. Tall and broad with tanned skin, he owned some sort of contracting business based on the truck he’d do school pick up and drop off in. When the girls introduced you two, he flashed you a small smile, revealing that goddamn dimple. 
You’re both pretty sure the girls played a hand in the two of you eventually getting together, granted they both conveniently don’t remember playing tiny matchmakers. They’d ask for sleepovers and playdates almost daily, or sign you both up to the same shift at school events.
“Mommy, I swear on the moon that the teacher picked!” Ellie said when you had the coat check station at the Valentine's Day dance. “Buuuut you might want to put on lipstick.” 
It’s been a little over 14 years since then and he still sets your blood on fire with that dimple. 
Both of you approached this new empty nest phase apprehensively, but it turns out that having the house to yourself (with no risk of one of the girls walking in) opened a whole new set of rather kinky doors. Not that you were necessarily vanilla before, but while they lived there you didn’t have ropes and paddles hanging on your bedroom wall, or the hooks on your four-poster bed.
You also never would have been how you are now, bathroom door wide open in only the trousers you planned to wear to work. 
“Not that I’m complainin’ sweetheart. But why are you topless?” Joel asks on his way to the kitchen. 
“It’s too damn hot in here.” You grumble, getting out your skincare and makeup. 
Joel shook his head to himself as he walked to the kitchen. He knew better than to bring up that it wasn’t the temperature, it was you and your recent perimenopause diagnosis. He hated to see you suffering, but your newly insatiable libido gave him an idea. 
As you get ready, Joel leans against the bathroom door frame drinking coffee, observing you through the mirror. 
You see him most days in his typical work attire - dark jeans, a t-shirt with his company logo, and a flannel or denim button-up. But it will never get old to you. You almost find him sexier in this than in a suit. Especially when he has the cuffs rolled like he does today. 
“Little Dove?” His voice is deep and scratchy. 
A slight blush paints your cheeks, knowing that it’s going to be one of those days. 
“Yes, sir?” 
He slowly walks towards you as you lean into the mirror to blink on some mascara. He stops just a hair away from you, not touching you but close. Close enough for you to feel the heat coming off of him. He waits until you’ve put the mascara wand away, and uses his free hand to trace a line slowly down your spine. 
A shiver runs through you, and you let out a small moan. Partly from the feeling of him, but mostly at the reprieve from the hot flash you’re experiencing. 
“How many orgasms do you think I could give you before you beg me to stop?” He kisses the top of your left shoulder, watching your eyes widen slightly in the mirror. 
Goosebumps spread across your body. If he wants to play, you’ll make it difficult for him. “Well, after the little kidnapping the other night you gave in after three.” 
“This is about you giving up and not me giving in,” His free hand continues a light trail along your bare back. 
“And didn’t you say you felt like you had done an intense Pilates workout the next day?” He adds teasingly.
You were hoping he’d forgotten about how you groaned as you lowered yourself into the bathtub to soak your sore muscles. Even though your hormones seemed to think you were a teenager again, your body took a little longer to recover. Joel cared for you in a way that only he could; making dinner, wrapping you in your beloved heated blanket, and gently massaging your hips and legs. 
You don’t want to give up this easily so you scoff and say, “Please, old man. You’d get tired before I’d quit.” 
The next two things happen so quickly that it’s over before the excited squeal leaves your lips. He spins you to face him and lifts you onto the countertop, caging you between his arms, his hands gripping the vanity on either side of you.  
“Now now, Little Dove. I’d be careful who you call old.” His recently playful tone is back to a deep gravel-like command that settles right between your thighs. 
“You will refer to me as sir in these moments and nothing else. Do you understand?”
You nod eagerly sucking your bottom lip between your teeth, fuck you love him like this. 
He kisses down your neck towards your right breast. Pausing he adds, “Words, Little Dove,” before gently dragging your right nipple through his teeth. 
You let out a desperate moan arching your back into the pain, “Yes, sir.” 
Joel quickly steps back, taking his coffee cup with him. “Be a good girl today.” 
+++++
You spend your workday trying not to think about Joel. You immerse yourself in your to-do list and your team gets a few projects done early and sent off for approval. You’ve almost forgotten about the morning events when you hear your phone buzz. 
Joel: When I get home I want you in that little black lacy thing, Little Dove. I’m bringing home dinner. 
You reply with a funny ‘yes, sir’ gif.
Joel: Oh, my sweet Little Dove. I’m almost starting to think you like it when I punish you. 
You: Do your worst, I won’t tap out.
Joel: Tell me what you’re going to be doing when I get home.
You find a photo of you wearing the aforementioned ‘little black lacy thing’ and attach it to your message that says, “Wearing this, sir.” 
Joel: Be kneeling beside the couch when I get home. 
You: Yes, sir. 
++++
The rest of your day goes by tortuously slowly, yet the drive home seemed suspiciously fast. You laugh to yourself picturing a speeding ticket in the mail and Joel’s reaction when you tell him he has to pay it since it’s his fault. Maybe you’ll ask him when he’s in a sir mood.
You hop in the shower, shave and touch up your makeup before clipping and clasping yourself into the outfit Joel loves so much. As you step back to admire yourself in the full-length mirror you realize certain squishy parts of your body don’t look great in this.
Focus on the positive, you remind yourself. 
The deep v-halter of the one-piece garment accentuates your breasts, you spin to take in the low cut back and high cut cheeky bottom that highlights the globes of your ass. 
The familiar sounds of Joel’s truck pulling up the driveway sends a rush of nervous and excited butterflies through your stomach. You hurry to the sitting room, grab a throw pillow from the couch and kneel. 
Your eyes follow as Joel heads to the kitchen, holding a bag from your favourite sushi restaurant.  He places it on the island before looking up at you with dark eyes
“Look at the ground and put your hands on your lap.” He commands. 
You can’t stop your eyes from rolling as you look down and do as he says. 
“Little Dove, don’t roll your eyes at me.” His voice deepens with every word, instantly setting your core on fire. 
He’s silent for a moment and you can feel his eyes on you. “From now on when I say to kneel, this is how you’ll be. Understand?” 
You squeeze your thighs a little tighter, breathing starting to shallow at the sound of his voice as he slips deeper into sir mode. 
You reply with a breathy, “Yes sir. Sorry.” 
Joel walks over and pets your head. “You look stunning like this.” He whispers, before turning and leaving you alone. 
His words feel like warm honey being drizzled down your spine. No one makes you feel as desired as Joel and immediately your earlier body insecurities vanish. You can hear him moving things around the bedroom before he walks back to the kitchen but you don’t dare look up. You’re a good girl, Joel doesn’t like brats, and right now all that matters is pleasing him. 
Joel sets up dinner, arranges the sushi on plates, opens the wine and lights a candle before sitting at the table, legs spread, facing you. 
“Crawl to me, Little Dove.” His deep voice washes over you. Almost as if it puts you in a trance. You know your knees are going to regret this in the morning, but you’re so turned on that you don’t hesitate to crawl across the area rug and then onto the hardwood flooring Joel installed himself.
Stopping between his bare legs, his strong hand cradles your chin and tilts it up, he’s wearing a plain white t-shirt and tight black boxers. But it’s the sleek black remote control vibrator in his other hand that steals your attention.
“Such a good girl, aren’t you?” He says with a soft moan, gently stroking your cheek. “Go put this in, and then come back and have dinner with me.”
He helps you to your feet and hands you the vibrator. He turns you towards the half bath off the kitchen and pats your bum gently while you walk away. 
Joel has laid out everything you might need on the counter. After cleaning the toy, you push the thin fabric of your lingerie aside and slide it inside yourself. You can already feel pressure on that little spongy part inside you that Joel loves to tease. As you wash your hands you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. 
I can do this, you say to yourself. 
As soon as you step out of the bathroom and make eye contact with Joel the toy comes to life. Your false confidence from a few seconds ago buckles along with your knees as you brace yourself on the door frame and let out a breathy gasp. 
“I want you to keep count and thank me for each one, Little Dove. Understand?” 
“Y-yes, sir,” you moan, crossing your legs and squeezing your thighs, all while maintaining eye contact. 
The vibration stops, you take a few deep breaths before standing up tall and walking over to the table. Always the gentleman, he pulls out your chair and kisses the top of your head before taking his seat. 
“Eat while we go over some ground rules, Little Dove.” 
You don’t have to be told twice, you love sushi and you’re probably going to need your strength for the evening. 
“You are going to need a safe word tonight.” Your mouth goes dry and you become accurately aware of the small remote control in his possession. 
“We are going to use a colour coding system, much like traffic lights. If I ask you for a colour tonight you have three options. Green means you want to keep going,” he emphasizes the word you. 
“Yellow means you need a break and will let me know when you’re ready again. Say red and we stop.” Joel pauses and looks at you with a raised eyebrow. 
“Yes, sir,” you reply in between bites. 
He picks up his wine and takes a sip before continuing softly, reaching across to grab your hand. “But baby, you can say yellow or red at any time. If you need a break or reassurance, say yellow. And if it’s too intense and you need me to stop, say red. We’ve done our research on this. But you need to know that if you say stop, or that you need a break, or even if you’re crying and saying I’m hurting you, I will not stop. Colours only. Understand?”
You nod while taking a big mouthful of wine, the nervous excitement that you’ve been feeling all day courses through your body. As your wine glass is put back on the table the vibrating starts again, stronger this time. 
“You should know by now that you need to use your fucking words, Little Dove.” He says darkly. 
“Yes,” you stammer. “Yes. I under….I understand, sir.”
The vibrating stops and you let out a breathy, Oh god.
You both eat your dinner and finish the wine, this man could give you whiplash with how quickly he can go from sir to family man.  He asks about your day and tells you about the new apprentice he’s hired. When you both finish eating he takes the dishes to the sink. He turns to face you, leaning back against the counter with his arms crossed. The sleeves of his t-shirt stretch over the ropes of muscles lining his biceps. 
“Little Dove, do I have your consent to make you come until you use a safe word?” 
Again, the whiplash. 
Your mouth goes dry as you reply with his preferred ‘yes, sir.’ 
The toy comes to life again, on a higher setting than the last 2 times. You lean forward so your ass is slightly off the chair to ease some of the intensity. You’re not a stranger to a vibrator, but never one that’s pushed this firmly against your g spot and your clit. The seat of your chair is clamped between your fingers as you cry out in pleasure. 
“Don’t make me tie you to that fucking chair. Sit down, Little Dove.”
You do as he says, letting out a desperate moan as the hard seat presses the two ends of the u shaped toy deeper and harder against your g spot. 
“Oh fuck - fuck - m’gonna…” you close your eyes and your head falls back as the white heat in your center starts to reach its breaking point. 
Joel strides over to you and grabs your chin, twisting you slightly to face him. “Look at me, I want to see it when you come.” 
“J-Joel,” his hand doesn’t leave your chin and he watches you with such admiration as you start to come undone. 
“That’s it, Little Dove,” he whispers as he places a few kisses along your jaw towards your ear adding, “Let go for me.” 
Your orgasm hits you hard, spreading from the base of your spine and out to every inch of your body. Wave after wave flows through you, intensified by the look of admiration spreading across Joel's face.  
“There you go - good girl.” 
Your fingers start to ache as you fight to stay seated in the chair, his wishes are your command and you’ll do anything to hear him praise you again. You squirm against the seat as overstimulation starts to take over. 
“Please, sir,” you beg, “fuck! I need…I need to move.” 
“So beautiful when you beg, Little Dove….count it for me” He says. 
“One sir, thank you.” It comes out weak and breathy, a voice you didn’t expect after only one orgasm. 
“Give me a colour, baby.” His voice is almost soothing as he torments you with the vibrator. 
Current state aside, you’re not giving up or giving in after one orgasm, even if it is still coursing through you minutes later. 
“Green!” You scream, shifting yourself off the chair slightly as he switches to a new vibration setting.  Its intensity varies and shifts, and the anticipation of never knowing what might hit you next is a new level of wonderful torture.
Joel slides your chair out and kneels in front of you, pushing your hips back down to the chair. 
“I will tie you down if you don’t stay still, Little Dove,” he growls before slamming his lips into yours.
A second orgasm tears through your body, your hands move to his shoulders, nails digging into the fabric of his shirt as you try not to move. It’s no use, the vibrations are too intense and you buck your hips up while your head falls back breaking the kiss. 
The kitchen fills with your cries of ecstasy. Somehow you manage to count and thank him for the second one before he turns off the toy and pulls you to your feet. You grip his strong forearms to steady yourself, your pussy still fluttering against the weight of the vibrator. 
“You have five seconds before I turn this on high, Little Dove. Unless you can make it to the bedroom before that.” 
Your legs feel like jelly beneath you, but your competitive side kicks in and you sprint down the hallway as he loudly and authoritatively counts to five. You almost make it through the bedroom when you feel the most intense vibration hit your swollen g spot. You stumble forward, folding your upper body onto the bed. Your brain scrambles to catch up to your body as it processes that you’re not in pain but instead in a state of agonizing pleasure. 
Joel walks up behind you, pressing himself against your ass. “You’re doing such a good job for me,” he praises before landing a hard slap on your right ass cheek. 
Your body is suspended in that moment right before you come. You almost feel like you’re floating and the pleasure is so intense that you can’t even make a noise as you clench the bedsheet in your fists to try to ground yourself. 
He uses his body to pin you down, folding over you and whispering “Give me a colour,” in your ear. 
“Green” comes out in a shaky whisper. 
“That’s my girl.” He says proudly, biting your shoulder blade. 
Again it’s his words that do it, my girl, and you finally tip over the edge and tremble underneath him. Joel kisses and sucks the skin of your upper back, every inch of your body feels encompassed by him and crying out for relief, but you’re not giving in. 
“Ah - fuuuuck…” you feel like this orgasm has been going on for hours.
“I wish you could see how good you look right now.” 
“Stop. P-please. Stop,” you beg in between gasps of air. 
As you come down from your high the vibrating slows to a small tickle, not enough to make you come again but enough to remind you that it’s there.
Can someone die from an orgasm? 
“Take off your clothes,” Joel growls in your ear, slapping your right ass cheek as he peels himself off of you. “I’m not stopping until you use the safe word, Little Dove.” 
He pulls his shirt off and watches as you undo the clasps and clips of your lingerie and slide it off with shaky hands. 
As you lay on the bed you say, “I’m not a fucking quitter, sir.” 
Joel smirks, laughing through his nose a little as he wraps a silk cuff around each ankle, spreading your legs apart for him. “How many are we at so far?” 
As he cuffs your wrists you reply. “Three. Thank you, sir.” 
He kisses your forehead as he slowly removes the vibrator. “Fuck me,” he says, “look at this mess, such a good girl for me.” 
You close your eyes and let the praise wash over you like a warm bath. Joel shifts his body between your legs and places two little kisses on your swollen clit making you whimper and suck your bottom lip between your teeth. 
He uses two fingers to lightly circle your clit making you come instantly with a whimpering ‘four, thank you, sir,’ at the end. 
Joel doesn’t stop, switching to use his tongue while keeping the same pace and pressure as you come again.
“Ah - five, thank you, sir!”
….and again….”fuck, six. Thank you, sir.”
...and again….”s-seven - oh god - thank y-you, sir.” 
Your skin is covered in a thin sheen of sweat as a cool liquid drizzles down your pussy. You gasp at the new sensation, eyes shooting to his face. 
“Stay still, Little Dove.” 
As he runs his fingers up and down your pussy, the lube turns warm and tingly, heightening his touches. Joel draws circles on your clit with his thumb, pursing his lips and blowing cool air. The warmth turns icy cold, and when he stops blowing, heat rushes to your pussy, pulling another orgasm from you. 
Yes, I’m certain someone can die from an orgasm. 
“Count, Little Dove.” 
A whine escapes your lips as you try to tug your legs together. His thumb has slowed down but it’s all becoming too much. “Eight. I can’t anymore, sir.” 
He blows cool air again and the heat rushing has you keening all over again. 
“Please, Joel. I can’t. Please.” Tears spring from your eyes. 
“You’re ok. You can do this, baby.” Cool air hits your pussy again and you come apart.  “Good girl. So gorgeous. Count it for me, Little Dove.” 
“Nine. N-nine,” your eyes slam shut as he pulls away from you. “T-thank you, sir.” 
Before you’ve even finished thanking him, he slides his middle finger inside you, lightly massaging your g spot that’s still so sensitive from the vibrator. He pushes one of his strong hands down on your mound as he torturously works you toward your tenth orgasm. 
“No…please. Sir, I,” you gasp as you try to pull free. 
“I can’t,” the pleasure is almost painful at this point as the pressure from your arousal builds. He knows your close, he’s been dying to make you squirt again after the other night. 
“Color,” Joel says tenderly, slipping a second finger inside you and hooking the forward. 
You swallow hard against your sore and scratchy throat. You whine ‘green’, as you arch your back to try to ease the intense mixture of pain, pleasure and pressure that you’re experiencing. 
“Stay still, Little Dove,” Joel pushes harder on your lower belly. “Give me number ten. Show me, baby. Show me how good this feels.” 
You swear that everything stops, including your heart and time, as you fall apart under his touch and gush all over his hand. The walls of your pussy are clenching around Joel’s fingers and you can feel a puddle forming underneath you.  You think you hear Joel praising you, but the sound is muffled by your gasps and moans.  If you lived in an apartment your neighbours might think you were being tortured based on the loud cries coming out of you. Joel is sure that he’ll be making you a hot toddy to ease your throat later, but right now he’s hyper-focused on getting you through this orgasm.
As you start to come down his hand slows, “relax, baby.”
 “Red. S-stop. Fuck Joel, red.” 
Joel gently removes his fingers, shifting quickly to undo your restraints. You’re shivering and exhausted as he pulls you into his arms and away from the soaked sheets.
Everything Joel Miller does is done with the utmost care and attention, including aftercare. Your heated blanket is already warmed up, tucked near the headboard. He pulls it over you and places a featherlight kiss on your sweaty forehead. 
“I got you, darlin’. Shhh. I got you.” He holds you tighter as you melt into him. 
After a few moments of silence, you tilt your face up to look at him. “Are you okay?” He asks gently.
You bite your bottom lip to stop a smile. “Ya, that was - amazing.” 
You laugh a little and tuck back into his chest. “Are you sure? I’m so proud of you for using a safe word, but I need to ensure I didn’t hurt you.” 
You shake your head and fight to stay awake. “No…you didn’t” you mumble sleepily, stifling a yawn. “I’m great - just one minute…then I’ll do something for you.” 
Joel laughs softly and tilts your face up to his. He presses his lips to yours gently. “That was for me, Little Dove. Sleep for a little bit, I’ll wake you up for electrolytes and food.”
The warmth of your blanket takes over, you whisper an ‘I love you’ just as you drift off, thanking whoever brought this beautiful man into your life. 
++++++++++
Taglist: @corazondebeskar @hiddenbabynyc @mermaidgirl30 @rainstorms-library @smutsmutslut
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millervrse · 1 month
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❝ BY THE COFFEE MACHINE ❞ javier peña x reader
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summary: Javier Peña doesn’t like you. You’re too nice, too bubbly, and you get on his last nerve. He didn’t get how anybody in this line of work could be so goddamn cheery all the time. Though aside from your, in his eyes, forced and fake kindness, you had no bad features, and perhaps that, added to your beauty, is what ticked him off so much. Could he learn to like you the more time passes, or would you do this dance of hatred forever?
pairing: javier peña x afab!reader
warnings, notes: EVENTUAL 18+ smut, r! has a bit of an established backstory, a few uses of y/n but only when necessary, r! has a dog, references to narcos and thus real life people and occurrences (pablo escobar, the cartel, dea, etc), ENEMIES TO LOVERS but it’s one sided because javier hates r!, r! has an established personality, grumpy x sunshine, workplace setting, javier and r! are coworkers, use of cigarettes
word count: 2.6k+
LYN SPEAKING! so this is the first chapter of, again, a finished piece that was written nearly a year ago. you can read the prologue here! and again, this is all from javier’s pov, but i’m going to throw in some nsfw chapters using second person for the economy so, yeah! enjoy! lyn out!
DO YOU WANNA KNOW? @bishtrouille @axshadows @troubledsoul-black let me know if you’d like to be added!
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“Coffee,” I said simply. Her smile softened a little, and she raised her eyebrows in confusion. “What?” she asks. ❝ YOU'RE BLOCKING THE COFFEE MACHINE ❞
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CHAPTER 1: FIRST IMPRESSIONS
COLUMBIA, SEPTEMBER 1982
For once in our lives of chaos, the madness had died down, and there was no new news regarding the man who had been the focus of our missions for months now.
Pablo Emilio Escobar Gaviria: A drug dealer, and a major pain in my ass.
In the years that I’ve worked Escobar’s case, the man has put the DEA, and the whole of Columbia, for that matter, through hell and back. A war of drugs has been going on under our noses, and the man behind it is an evasive ghost.
We haven’t found him because he doesn't want to be found.
Days in the office have been passing by slowly. With no new leads, and little for us to do, we’re at a loss here. Can’t tell you how much time I’ve used clicking my pens or looking through the same case files over and over again, just to see if something appears that wasn’t there before.
It hasn’t happened yet.
For the third time that morning, I got up from my seat to get a cup of coffee, since having drained mine. Murphy’s eyes snapped to mine from where he sat across from me, and he raised an eyebrow.
Murphy was the guy I’d been working with on the drug cases for a few months, and we’ve come to be pretty friendly with each other during that time. Thus, his first words when he sees me get out of my seat.
He let out a small chuckle, shaking his head at me. “You’re gonna give yourself a heart attack with all that damn caffeine,” he remarked, crossing his arms as he leaned back in his chair.
I shrugged, throwing away the paper coffee cup that I’d been drinking out of. “Murphy,” I scoffed, crossing my arms to mirror him. “If there’s a damn thing in this world that’s going to give me a heart attack, it’s going to be Escobar, not coffee.”
Murphy sighed in response. I could tell the guy was just as done with Escobar’s shit as me, even if he was better at not discussing it than me. He shrugged and rubbed his forehead before responding, “Yeah, fair enough. Drink away.”
I nodded at him, then made my way to the door.
As I made my third journey that day down to the coffee machine, I passed by the hallway where the ambassador’s office was. What was already a shitty day only worsened by the feeling I got in my gut only by looking at her door.
It was hard at the DEA, Murphy and I being the main people assigned to this case, the only two men in the world who knew as much about Escobar and his cartel as the man himself.
And regardless of that, what we knew was minimal.
While the ambassador wasn’t really our boss, just walking by her office was enough to remind me of the drug cases: And that we weren’t getting a damn thing out of them.
I shook off the feelings that crossed over me then and there, and just went on walking.
I was veering the corner to go to our break room, where the coffee machine was, when I heard and saw a view I surely hadn’t when I clocked in this morning.
“Where can I put my things?” a feminine voice rang out from down the hallway, the voice filled with a sort of cheer that wasn’t very common from those who worked here in the DEA building.
My eyes snapped to the speaker before my brain could even process it.
There was a woman at the very end of the hallway I was in, holding a brown box, presumably the “things” she had been referring to mere seconds ago. My eyebrows raised fairly quickly: I had never seen her in the office.
Because I’m sure I’d remember a face like that.
It was impossible to miss her. Her eyes seemed to mesmerize the man she was speaking to, because he was looking at her with an expression usually saved for old, married couples.
He wasn’t the only one.
I couldn’t take my damn eyes off of her: I was drawn to her appearance, and she wasn’t releasing her hold. There was a serious and assured, yet honeyed way about her. Her eyes and smile spoke volumes to what I assumed was a kind persona, but her attire, a white collared shirt, black slacks, belt, and tie, vouched for her professionalism.
It made me uneasy to get so much from her based on her appearance alone. So that was when I whirled on my heel, all but jogging back to where Murphy was.
I loped back to the room with a concerning pace, closing the door quickly behind me. Murphy’s head snapped up, and he looked at me with a concerned expression.
“Hey, hey, hey, Murphy,” I said in a hoarse voice, a little out of breath from getting here so quickly. I took a second to relax, then asked, “Who’s that girl?”
Murphy’s eyebrows raised up, and he looked at me like I’d just asked him to marry me. “What girl?” he asked as his face scrunched up in cluelessness.
I let out a huff and opened the door again to see where the woman had gone. Then, I came back in the room and waved to the window. “That girl there. All the way down the hallway,” I clarified.
Murphy got up and looked through the window that showed the hallway outside of it. His eyes landed on the woman’s, and a look of realization crossed over his face. “Oh. Oh, yeah. That’s the new girl. I think her name is Y/N,” said Murphy.
I looked at Murphy with a furrowed brow when he said that. “You knew?”
Murphy shrugged and nodded, walking back to his chair and sitting down. “I heard some folks whispering about her. She was pretty popular in her old job, I think, skilled in her field. That’s why everyone’s talking about her,” he shrugged, like the fact was common knowledge.
“And no one was gonna tell me?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest.
“Uh, no, I guess not. Why would it matter, anyways? She won’t be working with us that much,” he responded.
“She won’t? Why not?” I asked curiously. Why was she up here, then?
“No, she’ll be working with the coaches, training the dogs for drug sniffing. She’ll be around, but—” Murphy explained, but then he suddenly cut himself off. He cocked an eyebrow. “Wait a second, why does this even matter to you, Peña?”
That got me to shut up real quick.
For one of the first times in my life, I was at a loss for words. I licked my lips as I tried to pick my brains for a response that would make sense.
But my mind was abandoned, way too preoccupied to give him a reason. Sooner or later, I just shook my head, giving myself a way out of this conversation.
“It doesn’t,” I shrugged, walking over to my desk. I ruffled through the drawers for a second, before grabbing the final cigarette from the box that I always had with me.
I took a deep breath as I made a note to myself to get more, before saying, “I just wanna know who I’m working with.”
Murphy nodded, though he didn’t really look convinced.
But the good thing was, if there was one thing Murphy knew about me, it was to never push my words. He picked up the case file that he’d been working on when I walked in the room and simply mumbled, “Yeah, okay.”
I sighed in relief, glad that he had just dropped the issue; I seriously didn’t want to talk about this right then and there. Talk about a woman.
I left the room without so much as another word, perching the cigarette in my mouth before I had even made it out of it. I usually smoked in the office, not giving much of a shit to our boss’ wish for me not to. 
But today, I obliged, making my way down the lift to go outside.
When I walked through the lobby and through the doors to exit the building, I mulled over the morning that I’d just had. Escobar’s doings may not be in plain view now, but a new sense of chaos was clearly ready to take the podium.
I lit the cigarette as I leaned on a pillar in front of the building, rubbing my forehead as a migraine began to form there. I exhaled puffs of smoke from my nose and lips, praying that it’d ease all the tension in my figure.
Fuck, what was even going on with me? Who was this girl, and why the hell was one glance her way driving me crazy?
She was just a woman. That’s all she was. And I’ve had countless experiences with women, an art that I knew like the back of my hand. I knew my way around them, and I wasn’t looking to get wrapped up in one at any point, at any time.
I’d just have to pray that this wouldn’t cause any problems in the workplace for me.
I’d have to have hope, and a hell of a goddamn lot of it.
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I was walking back up to the breakroom after I’d got back to the building half an hour later. After all, I hadn’t even gotten that cup of coffee I’d been craving before leaving to have a smoke.
But when I walked in the room, I didn’t envision the first person I’d see inside of it.
The new girl.
There she was in front of me again, the same vibe that had emitted from her earlier in my presence once more: Only, it was closer to me now. She was conversing with a male coworker of mine, and they seemed to be engaged in some happy go lucky discussion, because the woman was grinning from ear to ear.
“Yeah, I figured, why not? My dog is my best friend, and I don’t want to leave her home all of the time while I’m working, you know?” she giggled as coffee poured from the coffee machine she was next to.
The man, whose name I didn’t even know, chuckled in response. “That’s crazy. So they just let you bring her, huh? And you’re gonna train her up with the other dogs?” the man asked her.
She nodded, flashing him a smile that seemed to glare off the walls. “Yeah! Pretty cool, isn’t it? I’m glad they let me. I wasn’t really sure they would,” the woman laughed, picking up her cup and taking a long sip out of it.
The man was about to answer, when his eyes finally met mine, acknowledging my presence for the first time since I’d walked in the damn room. This caused the woman to look at me too, only smiling at me.
“Yeah, well, I’m sure your dog will do well. Shepherds are pretty big, and the ones we already have do a good job,” he murmured, looking down at the ground. “Anyway, I should get back to work. You have yourself a good day, Y/N. And good luck.”
So that was her name. Guess Murphy didn’t lie.
“Peña,” he said with a professional nod and awkward smile. Then, he left the room.
When it was just her and I in there, we looked at each other for several long seconds. My eyes glazed over her, fully analyzing her appearance now that she was so much closer to me.
I furrowed my eyebrows. 
I don’t know what it was about this girl that was seriously getting to me.
She was just different. 
And I couldn’t tell if that was a good thing or a bad thing.
“Hi, I’m Y/N,” she smiled widely at me, putting her coffee cup down to offer her hand to me before giving me her last name. “I’m new to the DEA, if you couldn’t tell. It’s my first day. What’s your name?” she asked.
Her kindly demeanor unsettled me, being both refreshing and alarming. Most of the men and women on this job worked with somber faces. No feelings, small talk, laughs or smiles. Just work, work, work. It was bizarre to see someone in the DEA building beaming, like we worked in some candy shop.
Didn’t she have any idea what this job encompassed?
“Coffee,” I said simply. Her smile softened a little, and she raised her eyebrows in confusion.
“What?” she asks.
“You're blocking the coffee machine,” I clarified for her. Sure enough, she looked to her side to see that I wasn’t lying about that. She murmured a quick, “Sorry,” then moved out of the way.
“Yeah,” I groaned in response. I grabbed one of the paper coffee cups near the machine, then got to fixing myself a cup.
To my surprise, she didn’t leave the room. She crossed her arms behind me, and I could see her looking over me out of the corner of my eye. I could tell she had the urge to speak, but didn’t know how to do so.
Black coffee poured from the maker when she finally opened her mouth. “I haven’t gotten your name yet,” she murmured.
I let out a sigh, wondering why she even needed to know it. “What does it matter?” I replied without a care in the world, looking for creamer in the drawers below the machine.
“I don’t know. It doesn’t, I suppose. I just want to know,” she answered. Then, she perked up, looking at me with a new sense of hope in her eyes. I craned my head towards her for only a second, just to see that same pearly white smile she’d been wearing across her face earlier. “Do you work on this floor, too?”
I closed the paper cup with a lid as she spoke, not even realizing that I’d forgotten to add creamer to it. “Name’s Peña. Javier Peña. And I don’t do small talk,” I replied composedly, turning my body to face her. Clearly, I had yet to get used to her appearance. I’m pretty sure my heart dropped down to my ass when I laid my eyes on her again.
However much I didn’t want to talk to her, there was a fact that remained true, regardless of how it was I was feeling.
She was fucking gorgeous.
Even with my semi rude remark, she smiled at me nevertheless, giving me a little shrug. “Fair enough. It’s not everyone’s thing, especially early in the morning. I get it, Peña—”
“Agent Peña. And no, it’s not,” I said back to her. I was just about ready to leave the room, when she grabbed me by the arm, causing me to pause in my tracks.
“Wait,” she said, clearly doing her best to cling to this conversation for as long as she could.
“What?” I snapped. Though, I didn’t move her hand away.
“Do you know an Agent Murphy? I’ve been looking for him,” she asked very quickly, tilting her head. I raised an eyebrow: She had my attention with that one.
“Murphy? Yeah, he’s my partner. Why, what do you want with him?” I asked curiously, facing my body back towards hers.
“He was supposed to give me some case files on drugs, mainly cocaine. I’m going to be working with the dogs, training them on sniffing out drugs and things like that, so I kind of need them.”
I sighed, trying not to roll my eyes at her. “He’s in the office down the hall. I’ll take you there,” I annoyedly offered. That’s where I was going, anyways, so I didn’t have much of a choice.
“Great! Thank you so much. Lead the way,” she grinned in a brilliant smile, signaling to the door. I grumbled and nodded, before making my way down the hall to Murphy and I’s shared office.
What was it I was saying earlier about hope?
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if you made it to the end of this, i really hope you liked it! please consider leaving a reblog, as they help my work immensely <3 kisses!
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edgeray · 2 months
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Custody Battle with a Dragon
(Arlecchino x GN! Reader)
A/N - Hi 🏹 anon! Accidentally deleted your ask when I did dragon! Arle part 3😅. Uhh… mbad. Reader just kidnapping three random human children is so funny to me, I will never not find this funny. Anyways, just wanted to say the only reason why I’m fulfilling both parts of this ask is because I already have to work on part 3. If I get an ask giving me more than 1 prompt, I will choose only 1 prompt to do. If you want me to do more, feel free to request from me, but with school starting soon, I probably won’t be able to get to many requests until I get used to the first semester.  By the way, since I’m lazy and don’t want to think of more/different worldbuilding, this will be like an alternative universe of my ‘dragon hunter mother' series and it will just be a role reversal. the lore with the hoth though is different from the series, i have a completely different backstory for arle and the hoth hehe. Sorry, this is really awkward and I didn't know how to not write it awkwardly since the reader decides to adopt them just impulsively and I doubt arlecchino would be happy about it. Naturally, they would clash but I tried to get them to get along. Not my best work... :( Content warnings / info - in arle's pov majority of the time, reader is referred as 'it' a few times, 1.6k words
Arlecchino likes to consider herself a successful and (justifiably) proud dragon hunter, among the best for the Tsaritsa. Dragon hunting has been in her veins since she was born into a well-known generation of dragon hunters. She's been trained and has performed the best out of her class in the kingdom’s most renowned dragon hunting academy, the House of the Hearth. Now, as the new head of the House of the Hearth, as ‘Father,’ she's able to change some things. 
For how rigorous and demanding the old House of the Hearth, underneath Crucabena (that despicable woman), it was also quite the precarious and perilous, though that was to be expected with what came with dragon hunting in general. It was easy to get into the House of the Hearth if you had enough money, and by then, you had basically paid for an early grave. Arlecchino remembers that the majority of her peers died, one way or another, before graduating. Families that were wealthy enough and had enough children were happy to enroll some of their children as an investment; being a dragon hunter paid immensely well given that they were paid by the kingdom themselves. 
Now, the classes were fewer due to the rigor requirements. Arlecchino has no need for people that want the job just for the money or to roleplay–with that mindset, they'll get themselves killed. For those seeking glory with none of the gore, for wealth without wear, dragon hunting is far on the list for what Arlecchino would recommend. It is daunting and never safe or relaxing. For this reason, the House of the Hearth takes very few individuals, often strays that she deems worthy and resilient enough for the task. A year is all it takes for her to train the small batch into formidable dragon hunters, about three times more valuable and efficient than the average hunter. 
This year's batch is particularly small, but that does make for more personalized lessons and unique opportunities. It's much easier to allow three children to accompany you on a dragon hunting mission than it is ten. 
Today is one of those days for the children to witness how a real dragon hunter deals with a dragon. Most hunters work in a group to hunt a singular dragon, though the best can do it alone. Today's dragon has been reported to have been killing some livestock occasionally–a few chickens here or there. At the very least, the dragon hasn't destroyed any other property besides the chicken pens, nor has there been any assaults on the people but the kill order is set in stone. Pity has no place among this job, but it is a shame to have to kill an innocuous dragon. 
“Children, maintain a good distance as we have always done. This dragon has been reported to be a two-paired dragon, so be cautious. I trust that you three will be able to handle yourselves during your observing?”
Lyney, the leader out of the three, nods. “Of course, Father.” 
The order should have been simple. It is. A two-paired-winged dragon is usually of little difficulty for Arlecchino, even with how volatile dragons are. Baiting them with fire as well as a large portion of fish is enough to draw the dragon out without waiting for it. With the help of the children, the preparations were done quickly, and all there is left to do is to ignite the fire and wait. 
Except, Arlecchino waits for quite some time. In fact, an hour has passed, and there are no signs of a dragon. Perhaps the villagers were mistaken on the dragon's whereabouts, though instances like these are rare. Nonetheless, it seems like that case, and the dragon hunter heads towards where she last left the trio. As she does, she hears a muffled outburst, recognizing it as Freminet’s, and rushes towards the direction.
Did the dragon target her children on the assumption that they were food? Did she make a mistake, bringing them here? Are their deaths on her hands once more, innocent lives lost because of her again? Her thoughts press her on as she increases her pace, fueled by fury and anxiety for her children. With each child she takes under her wing, with each soul she gently guides, with each hand she teaches how to wield a blade, a bit of her heart has parted and latched onto them. With the three, they are no different, except they are.
Lyney, the ever natural-born leader with a persistence like no other. Lynette, with a placid and rational demeanor to balance her brother's personality and fiercely loyal. Freminet, although timid, holds more potential and skill than he credits himself, and his kindness never fails to shine through even in his conscious actions. These three are endearing, as she has found all children she's taught in such a way before, but perhaps it is these children whom she'd like to call her own finally.
Drawing her sword once she spots the familiar silhouette of a giant, scaly beast, she approaches, only to halt as she takes in the sight. 
A sleeping dragon lays on their stomach in the middle of the forest, curled around Arlecchino's children, their tail hugging the children to the body. Instead of the two-paired-winged dragon that the villagers said, it instead has three-paired wings. That makes the dragon twice as dangerous. 
Against the dragon, Lyney, Lynette, and Freminet sit against the dragon's back. Once they spot the dragon hunter, they noticeably perk up.
Why the dragon is like this, the hunter is not sure, but she knows that it has taken her children. 
“Father!” They simultaneously cry for her. The dragon’s head lifts as they're awakened and turns their head towards the dragon hunter, snarling. They whip their tail upon the grass, and they stand on their legs.  
“Are you hurt in any way?” Arlecchino inquires as she prepares to lunge at the dragon. 
“Wait, Father, don't kill it!” Lyney states as he ducks underneath the dragon's tail, escaping from its vicinity quite easily. “It hasn't hurt us!”
“No? Then why did it take you three?” Arlecchino questions, her blade still pointed at the creature. Their slitted eyes glare at the swordswoman in response, also tensing for an assault. It spun its body the other way, this time standing in between Arlecchino and Lyney, and Lynette and Freminet. They maneuver their head to be beside Lyney, using their head to almost shield him from the hunter. 
“I don't know, but… it–they clearly have no intentions of hurting us. See?” Lyney hesitantly reaches out, running his hand on the underside of the dragon's mouth, and the dragon coos from the action, before opening their mouth to lick his hand. 
“I think…” Freminet states outloud, though his appearance is obstructed from Arlecchino’s view thanks to the dragon. “That we're their young. They have been offering us fish, and they're doing this right now.” 
Arlecchino contemplates the situation. The dragon had essentially adopted her children as their own, perhaps even imprinting them already, claiming them as their own. Trying to take the children away would not do any good, especially if it feels threatened, there is no saying what it would do to the nearby surroundings when enraged. But the dragon has been hostile, and given the children's defense for it… it seems that it is rather docile. The hunter narrows her eyes on the dragon, sending a nonverbal warning before sheathing her blade. The dragon relaxes. 
“Even though you three remain unharmed, you still are my children, and under my care. I cannot simply give them away to you,” Arlecchino addresses the dragon, placing a hand on Lyney's shoulder. “Do you not have any young yourself? Why take human children?” 
The creature growls, before shifting away from Lyney. Abruptly, the dragon's form is outlined with a blinding light, and when the light dies down, you stand in place of the beast. The three children gap at you, but Arlecchino remains unfazed, already aware that you have a human form. 
“I cannot bear any children without any mate,” you gruff, your tail flicking behind you in an agitated way. “Why can't I keep human children? They look so small. I can feed them better.” 
Arlecchino steps closer, her eyebrows furrowed slightly in vexation. “My children's diets are fine, and they are not in need of more.” 
“The little ones are tiny even for just hatchlings. You cannot feed your young better?” 
Never did Arlecchino think she’d have to fight a custody battle with a dragon. Should she kill you? No, the children have already rejected it. Though, she cannot deny that you are much more appealing now that you are in a human form…
“Children, what do you think of this?” Arlecchino questions, and all three, expectedly, hesitates. None of them could ever expect a predicament like this, and not surprisingly, a definite answer is hard to come from them.
“I will come with you,” you suddenly suggest, eyes gleaming with determination. “And you will feed me and not harm me. In turn, I will protect and parent the little ones, and I will not destroy another human’s building. Is that enough for you, dragon hunter?” 
“You will do that for human children you just met?” 
“I’ve been wanting children for over a decade. If they come in the form of another species, then so be it,” you assert, and your stubbornness only makes Arlecchino sigh. This is a headache. Though, it was nearly winsome of how protective you are over them, and Arlecchino can do nothing but surrender.
Arlecchino, proud dragon hunter, ‘Father’ to three, and now sharing custody with a dragon. 
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stem-sister-scuffle · 6 months
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STEM SISTER SCUFFLE: ROUND 3 MASHUP 4
Jade Harley (Homestuck) vs Entrapta Princess of Dryl (Netflix She-Ra and the Princesses of Power)
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Jade Harley is a Nuclear Physicist, Roboticist, Ectobiologist, and Cosmic Manipulator (warping space and planets)!
Entrapta Princess of Dryl is a Roboticist, Programmer and First Ones' Tech Historian/Archaeologist!
Why you should vote for each contestant:
Jade Harley:
"She's soo fun and silly and her symbol is literally an atom. she regularly irradiates steak to feed her weird dog"
"She and her nuclear powered dog creating a new universe. she's cool"
"Built a modded bass guitar that's only playable when she's in her robot form and has extra arms. Became a doggirl. She also plays the flute :)"
"i think you have enough ramblings about her already but i couldnt NOT submit her, she is so dear to me <3"
"bbg has THREE scientific specialties!! she genetically modifies plants and makes them grow beautifully high just because she can and loves science. in her alpha timeline she’s a tech mogul and creates technology that challenges the evil empress that brought earth to ruin. AND she’s a furry"
"Doggy"
"She plays a silly flute refrain. She's a furry. Literally, she's a doggirl. She's also a god and created the universe. JADE BEST GIRLIE!!!!"
Entrapta Princess of Dryl:
"She builds robots!!! She's curious and inquisitive!! She loves her robots!! She has the coolest hair and also I want to be her bestie. She's an absolute love"
"autism :)"
"Builds robots and computers for fun and companionship. Can take apart and understand almost any tech she is presented with. Autism lever set to max and I love her. Mandatory boob window in all her outfits and I've never related harder to a character."
"autistic icon, amazing inventor and app round excellent character"
"she has prehensile hair it’s literally the best thing i’ve ever seen in my life, it’s never once acknowledged by any of the characters as abnormal or explained in any way i’m literally obsessed with it. also autism queen"
"PIGTAILS!!!! autism"
"Entrapta is very bubbly and positive. She never lets anything like losing her friends or going to the bad side or getting put on a death-sentence island stop her from scientific pursuits! She actually drives a lot of the conflict in the story, as she explains the technological backstory of the world, and helps both sides be better at fighting. She loves data, doing experiments, and the scientific method. She's also in love with space. She is an autistic queen <3"
"phenomenal canon autism representation without being weird & shitty. also she’s so strange & wonderful & relatable in so so many ways. my computer is named Darla bc that’s what she named the AI for the spaceship in s5"
"She is THE science queen because she loves science so much and her love of it is INFECTIOUS. I don’t know anything about science but Entrapta makes it seem like the coolest thing in the universe. I love her"
"She ourple. I luv her"
"She's so passionate about her work. Takes through notes! Figured out how to hack her home planet!!! She's autistic as hell and I like her overalls."
"You won’t get autism like this anywhere else bestie"
"amoral mad scientist who flips between the good guys and bad guys, loves building so many inventions, ends up converting the head bad guy (for most of the series) to good through the power of love"
"She has outfitted her entire castle to be a maze, and installed electronic locks on some. Her staff seems to be mostly robots she has built herself. In good part reverse engineering or adapting ancient tech found on the planet. She's incredible at what she does and personally fixes, invents and builds a wide range of stuff from space ships to portals to a prosthetic exoskeleton to trackers to war machines. She can do it all. Autism win! Girlie has been criticised for being treated childlike or being unable to understand those around her to a ridiculous degree, but I'm honestly just glad she's not a Sheldon Cooper. Her favorite bots have personalities and therefore implied AI (but not the shitty kind), which means she's pretty fucking good at software too. She likes tiny foods."
"So very autistic about technology. Initially believes robots are way better than people, eventually makes human friends but also very much still has robot friends (I love Emily so much). Gets so excited about finding new First One's tech. Also her happy spinning around in a space suit in that one season 5 episode heals my heart every time I watch it"
"She's the planet's leading expert on ancient tech (sci-fi/fantasy universe) and develops most of the tech in the show and is very autistic about it. i love her"
"She is fun and funky. Chaotic neutral. Definitely some autism coding going on, which is very charming. She has a pet robot? It is cute"
"Bc she is ENTRAPTA!! No srsly she is such a well-written character. At times kinda morally grey but always lovable and great and she is truly amazing at what she does!! I'm pretty sure she's already been submitted but I wanted to make sure :)"
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riptides-n-roses · 4 months
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dirty secret - seth rollins (18+)
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⛧ pair - seth rollins (architect era) x reader
⛧ warnings: unprotected p in v, biting, hickeys, trying not to get caught, cre@mpie, consensual sex, little hint of fluff, hate sex. (Honestly idk if this contains angst but i'll go ahead and add this as a warning)
⛧ he's an absolute cutie and i feel that he should have some smut written about him too; i will say right now that this is taken place around 2015 authority era. so imagine rollins in his architect character with the championship. :)
⛧ after seth rollins costed you a win for the championship, you've started to hate his guts and he hated yours too. but what if the two of you were hiding something...
⛧word count: 1.7K
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Backstory:
You were one of the top babyfaces of WWE and heavily adored by the audience. The way you competed against female superstars always caught their attention. You were insanely talented with your move-sets and your finisher (which was a double arm grab curb stomp.) However, The Authority took notice of this, including the WWE world-heavyweight champion, Seth Rollins.
One night, you had a match against Nikki Bella for the Divas Championship. As soon as you were about to hit your iconic finisher, Rollins came out to the ring, leaving you confused and distracted, not realizing that Nikki was rolled under the ring, and her twin sister, Brie Bella, disguised as her. You shrugged and went back to your match. However, Brie quickly rolled you over for the cover.
1...
2...
3...
It was over. Nikki Bella is still the Divas Champion. After Nikki and Brie leave the ring to celebrate her victory, you sat in the ring with disbelief. But also, pure anger. You turned your attention to Rollins who was still watching you from the titantron, with a shit-eating grin on his face, proud that he prevented you from reaching a milestone you worked hard for. The audience roared with excitement as you quickly left the ring and made your way to Rollins, delivering a slap across the face. He was stunned as you left the arena.
Backstage, you were stopped by the Authority to ask you something.
“Y/N, we’ve been taking notice of you and your moves and we’ve got to say. You are talented.” Stephanie spoke, looking you up and down with a smile.
“Um…Thanks?” Your tone was full of confusion. “But, No Offense at all, why are you speaking to me about that?”
“Well Y/N…” Triple H chimed “You see, The Authority always does what’s best for business. And we’ve agreed that the newest member…should be you.”
Your eyes widened. You? A member of The Authority? You wouldn’t. You couldn’t. You’re already a loveable superstar with the audience. Why change that now for absolute power?
“I…I don’t know. I’m already happy with where I am. The WWE Universe seems to agree too. I wouldn’t give that away with all due respect. Besides, I refuse to be in the same group as Seth Rollins who’s literally ruined my opportunity tonight to be a champion.” You wanted to puke mentioning that name.
“We understand your frustration.” Stephanie replied. “But, it wasn’t our decision for him to prevent that. That’s why we’re here to bring an offer.”
“And what would that be?”
“You. In The Authority. If you join us, you can have any opportunity you could ask for. We’ll even get you your deserved rematch for the Divas Championship with any qualifications that you desire. All it takes is for you to do what’s Best. For. Business.”
Stephanie’s words seemed to give you some interest, your thoughts hypnotized with visions of you under the faction. You raised your eyebrows with excitement but also anxiety. Were you willing to give away everything you achieved just because you’ve always dreamed to be champion? Were you going to fall trap to their words? Were you…going to turn heel?
Before you could speak, an angry Seth Rollins storms in to where you and the Authority were, demanding an answer from you.
“What the actual hell, Y/N?” he yelled. “Do you not understand who you’re dealing with? I’m Seth freakin’ Rollins!”
“AND?! You think I care?” you screamed back at him. “You cost me the match I’ve busted my ass for. And for what? That should’ve been ME with the championship! And I would’ve been champion right now if it wasn’t for you ruining it you son of a bitch!”
Your words echoed all through backstage, the audience cheering, chanting your name around the arena. The Authority were shocked with your recent change in behavior. You’ve never spoken like that before and it shocked many. You and Rollins began to stare each other down, both of you delivering cold stares to each other’s faces. You shook with absolute anger while staring him down. You hated him. He hated you. But the WWE Universe seemed to grab an interest with this heated moment between you two, hoping an intergender match would come to be to settle your new feud with the heavyweight champion.
.•°☆.⋆。⋆☆•˚。⋆。˚•☆˚。⋆.☆•°.⋆
Present:
Another episode of Monday Night Raw had arrived. Tonight, you had a match with Paige to gain momentum to have your rematch with Nikki Bella for the Divas Championship. Seth Rollins, on the other hand, had a match with Randy Orton, after he betrayed him last week during a handicap match with Roman Reigns. The question was…where were you? And where was Seth Rollins? No one knew your whereabouts neither his. Anytime there was a text or call, neither of you answered. When Monday Night Raw started, Stephanie came out to make an address to the WWE Universe.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to Monday Night Raw! Tonight, there’s going to be matches with superstars you all love and new opportunities to be brought to the table. But, there is a huge problem. Y/N and your WWE World-heavyweight champion, Seth Rollins- “the WWE Universe booed to his name, making Stephanie laugh a bit. “They’re not here! We’ve been trying to get in contact with the two superstars and nothing has been done now. However, that doesn’t mean any changes. The Authority is confident that Rollins and Y/N WILL be here tonight. We’ll do everything we can to have them perform. With that said, ENJOY THE SHOW!”
The WWE Universe, including the staff and locker rooms, were confused as to why you and Seth were missing. You never missed any day away from Raw before. So why tonight?
The truth was you and Rollins were at the arena. However, what no one knew was that you and Seth were in his locker room, leaving hot breathy kisses all over each other as you bounced on his hard cock.
“F-fuck Seth…” you moaned, your breasts jiggling with each thrust. Seth had a tight grip on your ass while the other hand was around your hip. His groans making you even wetter.
“Good girl. Take every inch of my cock like the slut you are.” He muttered, his grip on your ass getting tighter, white knuckles forming. He was enjoying how you took his length, his tip always hitting your spot with each thrust.
“Y-you know…The Authority’s not going to like this.” You whined, not wanting him to stop fucking you like this. His thrusts were deep and slow, making sure your walls will remember his shape.
“Oh, shut up. They’re not going to do anything. Besides, this will be our little dirty secret.” He replied, his face going up to one of your breasts, roughly sucking on some skin. You gasped from how he sunk his teeth into your flesh, leaving bite marks and hickeys all over your breasts – you were lucky to have ring gear that didn’t show your breasts or cleavage.
“Fuck, baby…” He groaned “Why haven’t we been doing this before?” His hands now grab your ass as he thrusts a little faster. You threw your head back, covering your screams with one hand so neither of you would get caught.
“You…You know I still hate your guts, right?” you giggled, making Rollins deliver a hard slap across your ass, earning a whine from your lips.
“I hate you too…but why do I love this so damn much?” He asked with breathy moans, “You’re still a little brat. Don’t forget that.”
“I could care less…fuck right there…You’re still an asshole”
“I know, sweetheart. Now be quiet and take this dick like a good little bitch.”
As much as you both hated to admit it, you both drove each other crazy, sexually and in a weird sort of way romantically too. But that would’ve been way too soon. Besides what would the WWE Universe think if they found out about your hidden relationship? Seth Rollins, a total heel who’s also a huge asshole. You, an adored babyface who deserves to be champion. You two could never let them find out. Not now and not anytime soon.
You lost your thought when you felt another slap on your ass from Seth, his thrusts getting sloppy. You knew he was going to cum. You hope he came inside of you, to remind you about your secret. Only he could fuck you this good and make you never want to stop things with him. You’d do crazy shit for him if you wanted to.
“Baby…I’m getting close. I’m going to cum in you.” He growled as his thrusts get faster, earning high pitched moans from your lips. He fucks you way too good.
“M-Me too…” You were shaking, desperately to cum your stomach tightening for release.
“I know baby…Remember we got to be quiet. We don’t want no one finding this out do we?”
You shut him up by pressing your lips against his – muffled moans as he came in your pussy, you following him, his arms holding your hips down tightly as he rode out his orgasm. His warm cum leaking out of you made you beg for more. You stayed on top of him, his cock still inside of your cunt as you looked into his eyes, he gave you that same cocky smile like he did that night.
“Fuck, baby…You drained me like that. I don’t know if I’ll have enough energy for my match tonight.” He laughed, leaving another slap on your ass cheek. You giggled as you wiggled your ass, your cunt throbbing from how sensitive you were.
“Same here…How are we supposed to tell everyone where we were?” You asked, your breaths were hoarse.
“We don’t. And this stays between us. Understood?”
“Whatever you say, asshat.”
You and Seth looked into each other’s eyes, with a stare down, heavy breathing coming from the both of you. As you laid your head in the crook of his neck, he played with some strands of your hair, admiring you.
“You know…I been meaning to ask you. Are you still mad at me for costing you a title match?” he mocked.
“Hmm…maybe.” You chuckled, surprised that he recognized that he was wrong for that.
“How about…I take you out for dinner and eat your cunt as an apology?” he offered “Besides, we need to get ready for our matches.”
“Hm…Sounds like a plan” You replied.
You raised your head and smiled at him before giving him another kiss
“Even though we’re supposed to hate each other, I actually like you.”
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mysteria157 · 4 months
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Moment Two: Your Daughter's First Pair
Rating: Mature
Pairing: Nanami Kento x Black Fem Reader
CW: fluff, profanity (not really), sexual suggestion, slight angst (very minimal).
Word Count: ~3.4k
Summary: Nanami joins you and your daughter for a family tradition, but he may not be as strong as he thinks.
Set in the It Had To Be You universe but you don't need a lot of backstory to follow along.
Notes: This was a random thought that I had based on something that has always been a thing in my family that I wanted to write out. There is nothing significant about this, I have not written Nanami in a LONG time, so I'm trying to warm myself up again. I am so rusty but I'm using fleeting moments of inspiration and taking advantage of it.
Likes, reblogs, and comments are always welcome! Happy reading!
Divider: @saradika | Header: myself
| Twitter | Ao3 | Masterlist | Moment One | Moment Three...Eventually
©mysteria157, all rights reserved. DO NOT copy, plagiarize, reupload, modify, or translate (without permission) my work to other accounts and platforms.
MINORS DNI
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“You don’t need to hold her so tight.”
“I’m protecting her.”
“And what am I, a goat?”
He raises a brow at your jest, autumn wheat and elegant but nonetheless annoyed as he glares at you. He doesn’t mean it, you know that—it’s all nerves.
“Ken, we don’t have to do this you know? If you’re against the idea, we can wait a few more years.”
“I’m not against it,” he reassures you, adjusting your daughter in his arms. Ulani babbles up at him, her chubby hands digging into a sharply cut cheekbone. He carries on without complaint, already used to her behavior. “This is a tradition, and I understand it but…”
You turn a key chain in one hand, your thumb smoothing along the glittery face of a dog—or is it a cat? The rack is filled with key chains of different colors, animals and objects, bringing back memories of middle school when you would drag your best friend Omelia into this same store in Sendai before it closed down. Despite the many years that have passed, the store chain still has its subtle hues of purples and pinks, earrings punched through purple cardboard paper, pens with wonky erasers, and headbands of different designs.
“But what?” you try to finish for him, smiling up at his nervous form as he lets Ulani talk to him in her own baby language.
Kento pulls in a deep breath as if to steel his nerves and prepare for the inevitable. He’s praying to whoever will listen, trying to use every coping mechanism in the book. He’s wearing jeans that hug his fit thighs and a dark blue short sleeve that shows too much bicep for your liking (you should give him a dress code). There are only so many single and married women and men that you can glare at in a day, and the redhead over by the register is pushing it.
“Will it hurt her?” your boyfriend’s low timber pulls you back, filled with apprehension, and he keeps mahogany eyes on his daughter to avoid showing you just how scared he is. You rub his back to soothe him, tracing the bands of muscle that are tense behind the soft fabric.
“I-I’m worried.”
“And you shouldn’t be. It’s a simple thing, lasts two seconds. Just like when she got her first shots.”
That’s not enough for him, because now Kento furrows his eyebrows in frustration, bouncing his daughter in his arms to entertain her and also soothe himself. “There are a lot of things to consider. The risk of infection. Rejection. What if she hates them? What if they get caught on her clothes? Or her curls? Or—”
“Are we ready?” one of the employee’s sing songs from behind you both, walking towards the singular chair perched against the glass wall of the store.
“I—” Kento croaks, clearing his throat and swallowing loudly. He looks down at you. “Are we?”
In the time you’ve known him, you’ve only seen Kento visibly nervous a handful of times. That stoic demeanor is a smooth, stone-like shell to everyone else besides family and close friends, but you know the weak spots and have glimpsed into the fragmented sections only visible to your eyes. Right now, he’s nervous and fearful beyond belief. That all encompassing love and attention that he shows you from sunup to sundown extends to his daughter as well. If there is one person besides you, who can make Nanami Kento show his emotions freely and without reservation no matter the date, place, or time, it’s Ulani.
“How about you hold her?” you suggest and give him a small push towards the black chair. Two employees work at the small kiosk next to him, unwrapping sterile materials and cotton swabs. Kento’s eyes watch every movement, searching for any sign of threat that can give him the ammunition to take his daughter and never come back. You can practically hear his thoughts:
“Is that up to code?”
“How long has that been sealed?”
“What is the name of the manufacturer so that I can ensure it’s reputable?”
Your roll your own eyes, knowing how right you might be.
When you found out your pediatrician would be on her own maternity leave, you let Kento research every establishment in Tokyo until he found one in Shibuya. Reputable, good reviews, and well-practiced in this procedure.
Of course, you’re nervous too. She’s your daughter, a combination of you and Kento, conceived from a very drunken night of disdain but grown out of eventual love and adoration. The thought of her crying in pain makes that maternal part of you flare with anger and the consuming need to protect her forever. But you’ve prepared for this for awhile.
Kento? Not so much.
“Is that clean?” your boyfriend asks one of the employees, clutching his daughter a little tighter. It’s a little rude, but the employee smiles at him in a way that conveys understanding of his trepidation. This isn’t their first rodeo.
“Completely sterile from the package. I promise she’s in great hands.” Deep eyes free of steampunk-esque glasses flicker up at her in doubt, but he simply sniffs and looks back to his daughter instead to withhold a scathing remark. “How about one of us on each side, and we do it at once?” she suggests, addressing him directly. It helps, as he gives her a somber but curt nod.
He situates Ulani in his arms so she’s sitting fully on his lap, his large hands holding her up with a slight tremble. The sight is enough to remind you again that this is new territory for him. What has always been a normal tradition for you and the other females in your life, is a foreign concept for him.
Ear piercings are a milestone in a young girl’s life. You got yours as a baby, and so did your mother. Omelia got hers as a baby, as did all her female cousins, as did her mother and the mother before her. If you interacted with your mother’s side of the family, then maybe you would know if your cousins also did the same.
But that’s another thought for another time, and you refuse to let painful memories tarnish what should be a memory you are crafting on your own, right now.
You step closer and run your hands through thick blond locks that are free of gel. You brush the strands from his forehead, letting the soft texture slip past your fingertips as he relaxes instantly. With his place in his chair, he’s at the perfect height to rest his head on your stomach, and he does so a second later.
One of his hands brushes light brown curls from his daughters ears. You can feel the unease radiating from him with every deep breath he takes, and you scratch that spot at his nape that makes him shudder, hoping it will help.
The muscles in Kento’s neck bunch together instead when one of the employee’s leans toward Ulani to make marks in deep purple, and even your own stomach turns in response at what’s to come. 
“Okay, we will do this on three. How’s that sound honey?” one of the employees coos at your daughter. Ulani, who is a carbon copy of her father, stares up at her, observant and sinking into her daddy before offering a gummy smile. “She’s so pretty.”
“She’s beautiful,” Kento corrects, slightly rough but still appreciative of the compliment. “Aren’t you, my dove?”
He tickles her side and offers a rare chuckle as she squeals up at him, wiggling in her father’s embrace. The sight makes your heart do flips because this is your world, day in and day out. Just you, Kento, and the person you’ve created together.
You step around to squat in front of him so you’re eye level with your daughter, a hand coming up to wiggle the toes covered in a tan sock. Her eyes catch you immediately, and she holds your gaze long enough for the two employees to position themselves on each side of her. 
Kento holds his breath.
“Alright, here we go. One. Two. Three.”
They both move in sync, pressing down on the plastic gun so the studs slide through the soft lobe of Ulani’s lower ears. Kento’s eyebrows furl together immediately. Ulani’s eyes widen for a second before her face contorts, her mouth opening in a silent cry. Your heart hammers and your chest tightens in an sudden flood of sadness and desperation that crashes against you like a tumultuous wave when Ulani takes one heaving breath in….
And screams.
His reaction is quick. Kento bounces one leg at a tempo that alarms you, his handsome face flying through different stages of grief, anger, and pain as he watches the employees adjust the diamond earrings to ensure they heal without complication. His mouth opens and closes, jaw grinding to keep his rudeness in check, because you know what he wants to say.
He was the same way when she got her shots; all glares and sharp stares at everyone else because they were the source of her discomfort. But like that time before, you are the cooling balm for his hot anger as you wiggle your daughters toes and murmur soothing words at her, to show him that she’s going to be just fine.
“It’s okay, baby,” you smile softly and it’s enough to capture her attention even though she’s squealing and crying from the sharp but quick pain in her ears. But all too quickly, you’re not enough for her, because the daughter that you carried for almost ten months turns away and reaches for her father, crying loudly in his arms. It’s a sting that you prepared for, but nonetheless hurts with a severity that takes a few seconds for you to recover from.
By the time you pay one of the employees and exit the store, Ulani has already calmed down. Kento digs into the diaper bag on his shoulder and pulls out a cotton cloth, wiping her nose as she sniffles and whines into his shoulder.
“I know honey, I know,” he coos to her, wiping the tears from her light brown skin and swaying back and forth. “But you were so strong, weren’t you? Hmm? A lot stronger than me.”
He pulls her away from his neck, smiling softly at her, and that one smile makes your chest bloom with satisfaction. It’s times like these that remind you how your life has surprisingly fallen into place. Who would have thought that the man who used to drive you insane would be the only one fit for you? 
That small twinge of hurt you felt minutes ago when Ulani turned away from you resurfaces, but reassurance cools it’s prickly edges. Even though this is a moment you may have been more connected with, it’s Kento who feels the painful side of it a lot more.
So you give him his own moment. You watch quietly as he kisses her chubby cheeks repeatedly, smiling into her skin at the giggles that leave her. You fall into the hum of the world around you as you watch him tuck away the cotton cloth and smooth the curls away from Ulani’s ears, finally admiring the diamonds that twinkle on each side. The lobes will be red for a few days, but for Ulani, she will never think of them again until she’s old enough to pay attention. Until she’s old enough to change them out to match the outfits she decides to wear, different colors and gemstones, and multiples if she ever has a streak of expression in her teenage years. Like you did.
Kento finally looks down at you, chestnut browns sparkling as he takes you in from head to toe. The harsh Shibuya sun beats down on bustling city square, but the rays are soft when they touch him. Tan skin is illuminated gold on his cheekbones, his hair luminous in the sun. You reach up to run a hand through his locks for the second time this afternoon, your heart still not used to the incessant hammering that arises when he leans into your touch.
You lift an accusatory eyebrow at him and hold back a chuckle when you speak. “Our daughter was the soldier this afternoon, and yet I’m coddling you?”
“Keep coddling,” he demands, voice tinged with mirth as he turns to place a kiss inside of your palm and then leans back into your stroking. “Today was very painful for me, have you no shame?” 
You snort and dig your nails into his scalp in retaliation, enjoying the groan that rumbles in the air from your ministrations. “Don’t blame this one moment on your entire day. You had a great run, remember?”
“My slowest three mile run yet.” Quick on the draw, and you already know where this is going. Kento rarely complains, but when he does, it is about the most trivial things as a means to get and keep your attention.
“You made me pancakes this morning.”
“Not my best work. Too much cinnamon in the batter.”
“We made out two hours ago?”
“Ulani woke from her nap and interrupted what would have been a very enjoyable afternoon.” That complaint leaves his mouth in a grumble, and you purse your lips to hold off the laughter that sits in the back of your throat. He’s truly pouting, and god do you love him.
“And now seeing your daughter cry from her first ear piercing was icing on the cake of a bad day, I imagine?”
“Exactly.”
You finally giggle and playfully pull a strand of his hair. He narrows his eyes at you, mischievous yet still carrying that ingrained indifference that you know and love. Ulani shrieks in his arms, finally past her blip of crying and now ready for her parent’s attention. You take in her drool of a smile, slightly red ears, and brown onesie-dress, and the possibilities flood your mind. It’s…very overwhelming when the thoughts hit you: how she will grow into herself, develop her personality, her wants and desires, her hobbies and her dreams. 
“Pay attention to me,” he interrupts your thoughts, and you can’t help the bark of laughter that you give him in response. Ulani mimics you, completely oblivious.
“You’re such a baby, and we have a baby,” you tease, snorting at his level expression and dusty cheeks, slightly shy but absorbing your presence. “You and Ulani have had it rough today. So how about a reward?” You look to your daughter when you ask, knowing damn well she has no idea what you’re saying but you want to include her anyway.
“How about frozen yogurt?” I.e., the unsweetened applesauce in the diaper bag for Ulani and matcha-flavored frozen yogurt for Kento from a favorite vendor a few blocks away. It’s an obsession of his that’s been appearing in the freezer with numbing regularity.
Kento remains unphased by your suggestion, though his lips twitch with the desire to smirk down at you.
“Seeing our daughter in pain was more heartbreaking than I thought. Food may not help, I’m afraid.”
Kento is milking his “pain” at this point, and you’re far too in love with him not to entertain the idea you know is floating in his head. You love this about him, just how playful he is when it comes to you.
“You’re a tough nut to crack.” You tap your chin as if you’re thinking hard, humming in contemplation. “How about…” you trail off, a hand sliding up a muscular bicep before massaging his nape again, relishing in the shudder he gives in response, his eyes twitching to hold back the urge to roll into his head in satisfaction. “Since you’ve suffered so much today…we can go home…and I’ll do that thing you like.”
You have the privilege and skill of being able to read Nanami Kento like a book. You don’t miss the glee that dances across his features—the uptick of one side of his mouth, the slow brow lift, the darkening of his irises. He knows exactly what that thing is. You’re pretty good at it—a master at it—and he made you promise that the day he ever turns that thing down, is the day you can leave him.
His cheeks explode in blush, jaw ticking before he clears his throat and smooths a sweaty hand down the dark blue of his shirt.
“I see,” he ponders, looking up to the sky as if in deep thought, and you know if you roll your eyes again, they’ll get stuck. “Well.” He situates Ulani in his arms and presses a few kisses to her cheek again to pull those giggles from her that you both love. “Who am I to deny your mother?” he suggests to his daughter. “Not a moment to waste, Ulani.”
“You’ve got to be kidding—”
“Quickly, before you change your mind.” He slides a hand to the small of your back as a means to hurry you along, pressing softly and turning you in the direction of the car.
You try to bat his hands away from you, giggles growing in volume as he dodges all your attempts to get rid of him. “I’m not going to change my mind, Ken—”
“Quickly.”
He takes your hand and you let him pull you, beaming at his back as he increases his pace. Ulani is happy as can be in her father’s arms and babbling as he talks softly to her.
“A snack before nap time sounds good, doesn’t it? What kind of applesauce would you like today?” She gurgles. “Cinnamon again? Hmmm, we should always try new things, Dove. What about the strawberry ones I bought you yesterday?” A squeal. “Strawberry it is. I think…”
The rest of their conversation fades into the background as you walk with them, warmth coursing through your veins with each step. It’s a warmth that catches you off guard, but has been ever present since Ulani’s birth. And you love every bit of how it feels. How it flows through you with every breath you take. How it only grows every minute, every hour, every day that you create a life with them.
After Ulani is buckled in her car seat and you slide your seat belt into its latch, Kento leans across the armrest, a warm hand sliding against your cheek in a gentle caress before he slants his lips against yours. It’s a surprise, but the shock dies as quickly as it forms as you melt into his touch—full lips that know your own and soft blonde locks brushing your face.
That affection that he pulls from you every day is given back in this moment—freely and without restraint—in the parking lot of Claire’s in Shibuya, where your daughter got her ears pierced for the first time.
When he pulls away and whispers his love for you against your lips, you repeat it back to him without thinking. It’s a motion that you both carry out whenever you can. 
“No more piercings. My heart will probably give out.”
“Do you feel better?” you ask in a tone that is filled with the teasing nature that sticks to you like a second skin.
He loves it, but doesn’t take the bait, and instead kisses your lips again, each cheek, and the tip of your nose. “I will soon.” The innuendo is so obvious you can taste it. He’s been with you too long to be a blushing and awkward man. “Once Ulani is asleep.” You push him away with a giggling huff and savor the deep chuckle that falls from his lips, permeating the air of the car.
As Kento drives through the crowded streets towards your shared home in Nakameguro, the hand not on the steering wheel envelops yours, a thumb stroking the skin of your palm. You look out the window and observe the colors and cars that zoom by, and the sound of a deep breath behind you makes you look back. And when you do, your heart gives a painful but welcoming lurch as you gaze at her. Your daughter already asleep, her head dipping to the side—curly locks askew and sticking to the drool on her face, and her new diamond earrings shining back at you.
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Thanks for reading!
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acourtofquietdreamers · 2 months
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“Elriels think Elain is perfectly okay in the NC and fully healed. They think Elain and Azriel are already in love. They think Elain is already trained to be a spy. There’s no story/conflict there.”
🙃
(Let’s ignore the fact that antis purposely misunderstand and exaggerate things Elriels say and play along with this line of thinking.)
Elain doesn’t have to be at rock bottom to have an engaging character arc. She still has room to grow, regardless of where she is in her journey. All of these characters have more room for healing. She can both enjoy her life in the Night Court and have some trauma she needs to address. Elain’s character arc doesn’t need to be focused on climbing out of a hole of self loathing and trauma like ACOSF. Her arc will likely be more focused on asserting herself, proving her capabilities, and making her own choices, regardless of other’s opinions. Elain being in a good head space in her book is necessary for this arc to occur.
Elain and Azriel can already have strong feelings for each other and still have a beautiful love story in their book where they learn more about each other and their feelings grow even deeper (please see Nessian willing to die together in ACOWAR and then having a whole book together). Elain and Azriel have the tension, chemistry, conflict, and obstacles necessary for a compelling romance. It is perfectly okay that her and Az have history and pre existing feelings.
Elain can be secretly training in stealth in ACOSF and still have more to learn in her book. There are many characters in the SJM universe that have learned skills off page and it didn’t at all take away from their story.
Elain’s story has endless potential between exploring her powers, the foreshadowed stealth lessons, the Koschei visions and potentially the visions about the Dusk Court, learning more about her friendship with Nuala and Cerridwen, learning about this other side of Elain that has been foreshadowed, seeing her navigate the mating bond with Lucien and her feelings for Azriel, mending her relationship with Nesta and Feyre, exploring if she activated Truth Teller when she stepped out of a shadow, her connection with the Cauldron etc. There is sooo much left to explore with Elain Archeron and none of it is reliant on her being knee deep in trauma. The things Elain has done behind the scenes, the progress she’s made, and the relationships she’s built thus far don’t take away from the story that will be told in her book. If anything, this backstory will only add to her book.
I will never understand this fandom’s want to repeat the same premise again and again. Elain doesn’t have to be at rock bottom, hating her life, and drowning in trauma to be worthy of a book. She doesn’t have to end up with her mate. Her story has the potential to be something new and fresh and I’m sooo excited to see where SJM takes it. The set up has the potential to produce my favorite ACOTAR book yet and I just want everyone to be excited about it 🥲
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medakakurokami · 1 year
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I finished over 100 visual novels, here’s a long post with some recommendations
Last month I hit 100 Finished VN’s over on the VNDB and I thought I’d shoot out some recommendations while the Steam Summer Sale is going on (even though some of these aren’t going to be on Steam)
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I already have finished up some stragglers and caught some shorter titles so it’s up to 104 Finished, but all the better. I have been reading some VN’s since 2015, but it really became a hobby and a genre I was invested in during Covid lockdown in 2020. I had trouble getting into some of the popular titles, but a couple of games that were lesser known at that time really blew me away that year and I started digging more into the medium. I still have a lot to try out and other classics I’m still interested in trying, but here’s a top 10 I’m confident in recommending to most people, at least the kinda people that would follow this blog. A few of these recommendations are actually multi-part series, but hopefully accessible all around.
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Planetarian ($10 on Steam and Switch, ~$5 on sale)
This is a very late entry onto this list but I think it’s an easy recommendation. This is a very short 2-4 hour visual novel that got a well received 2 hour movie adaptation in 2016, but it was strong enough that even while knowing the plot everything still hit hard. It is a story set 30 years after an apocalyptic event destroys most of the world, as a human junk-trader comes across a planetarium with a somehow-still-functional robot named Hoshino still performing her daily duties after 30 years without customers or coworkers. It can come across as a bit saccharine, but it is a quick, well made, and effective tearjerker.
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Narcissu 1st & 2nd (Free on Steam)
Narcissu’s first two parts are pretty compelling stories to do with suicidal ideation within the scope of the terminally ill. Which is to say they’re also real tear jerkers, and pretty open about some harsh self-reflective emotions. They both have stellar endings, and can be quite immersive despite the very limited artwork (if the screencap looks weird, the game’s art exists within a narrow strip on the screen, with a sentence or two reading out the story underneath it). Maybe the least accessible on this list, but a $0 price tag makes it easier in some sense to get into.
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Umineko no Naku Koro ni / When The Seagulls Cry (~$50 on Steam, $30 on sale)
Umineko you’ve probably already heard of, and here’s me recommending it. Umineko comes in two parts, on Steam referred to as the Questions Arc and the Answers Arc. Despite the split, the overall story follows the events of a certain day on Rokkenjima Island in 1986 as a family meets to discuss their inheritance and their family’s mysteries. Unbeknownst to them they are soon haunted, over and over again, by the revenant of the Golden Witch said to live in the woods of their family’s island.
I’m in the minority of preferring the Questions Arc, where well written and deeply human characters find themselves in deeply inhumane and nonsensical scenarios. The Answers Arc back seats some of that to start delving into an esoteric explosion of clues and backstories, and was still very entertaining even if I was more invested in the episodic stories than the overarching mystery. This may also be seen as inaccessible, $30-50 for a slightly older title and over 140 hours long on average playthroughs, but it is deeply absorbing.
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Witch on the Holy Night a.k.a. Mahoyo ($40 on PS4 and Switch)
Mahoyo is me and Nasu’s marriage counselor, it really made me see the good in him. It follows a young witch co-habitating with her magic colleague and the puppy-like boy that unwittingly steps into their world at risk to his own life, just as unexplained apparent murders are witnessed in their town.
This could possibly be a higher level recommendation, though it was apparently intended to have sequels and you can somewhat feel that in the isolated feeling of its main conflict. Despite this, the game is definitely worth experiencing for its classy charm and extremely well made action sequences that at times make you forget you’re not watching a full anime film. It’s also a showcase of Nasu’s strengths in writing character interactions and comedy, and he finally lets Show take over and stops Telling you piles of mage society worldbuilding quite so often. It is also has some of the highest quality production value I’ve ever seen, second maybe to...
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Marco and the Galaxy Dragon ($20 on Steam/Switch, less than $10 on sale)
Marco and the Galaxy Dragon is an explosive opera of art, energy, color, and of course music. It follows the orphaned Marco and her dragon compatriot Arco as they hunt for treasure across the cosmos, finding their way to Earth on the hunt for Marco’s mother.
If Umineko’s 140 hours seems steep, Marco has you covered with a quick 6 hour rundown of a rebellious orphan fighting back against her space alien menace to find her own sense of place and identity in the universe, along with ALL the friends she made along the way. If Mahoyo feels like an anime film sometimes, Marco actually just has fully animated FMV cutscenes that are fun as hell and have their own unique artstyle to the VN itself. Thousands of pieces of artwork and a 52-track OST fill the game’s short runtime with no cut corners and and overflow of passion from the devs. Honestly even if you don’t want to read it go buy it, it’s cheap and they earned it.
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White Album 2 (You’ll have to be creative to find this one)
This is the only recommendation that’s currently only available in an adults only 18+ Rating for the English translation. That being said, it’s one of the few erotic VN’s that felt justified in its pornographic scenes. The story is split into two releases: Opening Chapter and Closing Chapter.
Opening is a short and powerfully delivered love triangle narrative following Haruki, Setsuna, and Touma as their hastily formed 3-man light music band falls into itself with feelings. It’s charming but gut wrenching and sweeps you into its drama very effectively before kicking you on your ass in the end.
Closing Chapter is a long and drawn out disassembling of their lives as they fail to heal from the wounds of the relationships seen in Opening. It, to great effect, takes the readers own experience with how fun and passionate the Opening Chapter was, and shows how trying to cling to halcyon days can make us so dispassionate about our present lives. Painful stuff! Good music, too.
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The Princess, The Stray Cat, and Matters of the Heart 1 & 2
a.k.a. Noratoto ($40 on Steam for both, ~$15 for both on sale)
This is a very personal recommendation, and maybe one more easy to make on this blog where many of my followers might be receptive to sincere but slapstick ecchi comedy as art. Every route is highly different however and to me, some are pretty average for galge, while others stand out as amazing. The comedy writing as well feels like it was written by someone with actual comic writing experience, and not just regurgitating the usual ecchi manga jokes.
The general premise of Noratoto is the protagonist Nora, being transformed into a cat by Patricia the princess of the Netherworld, and he must reverse this curse via a kiss before it becomes permanent. A benign fairy tale premise, but one that somehow gives way to underlying stories about existence and finding purpose in families and where that leaves those without families or with abusive or divided families (it is from the same developers as Marco and the Galaxy Dragon, and the themes of finding identity without family match up very closely). Uniquely it is a visual novel written somewhat in 3rd person, narrated by a motherly voice as if the VN was being read to you as a bedtime story.
Like I said, it is dependent on route and some come across as your usual ecchi gal-game schtick, but some stick out, and if every route was as high quality as Nobuchina’s in the 2nd game, it would probably be my favorite visual novel.
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The Original Ace Attorney Trilogy ($30 on most platforms, $10 on sale)
You’ve almost certainly heard of Ace Attorney already and have most likely played it. This is me telling any Ace Attorney fans reading that the original trilogy still reigns supreme (regardless of Turnabout Big Top). This is also me telling anyone who has held out on trying Ace Attorney to try it, and to start with the original trilogy.
Obviously this trilogy follows the Meme Man Himself, Phoenix Wright, as he defends the innocent and brings the guilty to justice acting as both lawyer and his own main investigator. While each case presents a unique mystery, the original trilogy has an underlying arc that reaches from beginning to end with a massive conspiracy that Phoenix has to breach to bring justice to the perpetrators and resolve the memory and regrets of his beloved mentor.
These games have some speedbumps as you may be banging your head against the wall trying to find the right evidence, but the experience that breaks through does so with gusto, succeeding on what it sets out to be: games that make you feel like you’ve brought justice to the world.
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Utawarerumono Trilogy ($40/60 each on Steam, trilogy bundle $62 on sale)
Utawarerumono was my first proper visual novel, and it set the standards pretty high. I’ve posted about it several times in the last few years, and it remains one of my favorites. It is a labor of love on the part of the developers (the same developers as White Album 2), who developed the latter two games over the course of several years and have made this the spearhead of their company for the time being. Which makes sense, since it is about war.
The first game follows a masked man who is given the name Hakuoro waking up in a rural village with amnesia, confused about the strange population of beast-men living there. Despite not understanding his situation, his ingenuity brings the village prosperity. When the local lords try to put the village under their thumb, Hakuoro and the villagers are able to turn the tides against them. Their village grows into a kingdom as Hakuoro seeks the mysteries of himself and the world around him.
The latter two games pick up some twenty years after the conclusion of the first, and follow a man who is given the name Haku, waking up in the woods with amnesia confused about the... you get it. He is met by Kuon, a young girl on her way traveling to the capital of their nation of Yamato. Haku graciously accepts her help getting out of the cold woods, and decides to join her to the capital. As events play out, Haku finds himself under the direct command of the nation’s leader the Mikado, and carries out missions on his behalf as the nation continues to drag itself into war and conflict and Haku also seeks the truth of his identity.
These games are expansive in scope while still putting a large focus on the day-to-day lives of its characters. Around 100 hours across all three games it is impressive how much story it manages to fit in, but the pacing does bounce around between sweeping conflict and sleepy conversations. It is also in part, a strategy RPG game with the battles in the war being controlled by the player. These are decently made, especially well in the third game, but don’t ask too much of the player and the story remains the main focus and biggest portion of the runtime.
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The House In Fata Morgana a.k.a. Fatamoru
($40 complete version on PS4/Switch, ~$40 main game + expansion on Steam)
I’ve gushed about this enough on this tumblr, I’ll keep it brief.
You are a formless soul who is led by the hand of a mysterious maid through the doors of a mansion on an unknown plane of existence. Through each door lies a story of the house in a different era, all following people bound together in ways that leave them cruelly and violently undone by the end of their stories. The connection between these stories, the mystery of the house and the supposed witch that resides within, and the mystery of You the wandering soul all slowly unravel in a bloody show of catharsis and soul. The game is dripping with traumatic poetic text, grating beautiful music, and all of its atmosphere geared toward being oppressive yet enticing. One of the best things I’ve read.
Honorable mentions:
Va-11 Hall-A and Endless Mondays get shout outs as some of the best Original English Language VN’s I’ve read, with cool artstyles and a mature cast they manage to be fun and relatable. Va-11 Hall-A delivers a great arc for its protagonist and Endless Mondays has great dialogue on the threat of automation of creative industries.
Grisaia Trilogy and Hatsumira are both absolutely raucous trilogies that are a lot of fun. Not wholly recommendable to all, Grisaia has some strong moments and a hilarious unique cast but is a mess overall (but we love Michiru). Hatsumira is a bit more consistent, a more stable and fantasy-oriented Grisaia.
A.I. The Somnium Files duology are detective games with highly divisive endings, but great comedy and characters that make them very easy to get through and enjoy the whole way to the end. It’s just a toss-up whether you’ll like that ending.
Sakura Wars games are finally being translated, and they are a great showing for anyone who wants to try some classic dating sim stuff but with some pizazz thrown in with the setting and mecha combat.
The Tears to Tiara duology by the same developers of Utawarerumono and White Album is also one to keep an eye out for. The first game's definitive version isn't available in English and the second game is stuck on the PS3 and no longer available digitally, but if they ever come out on Steam they are worth your time.
Nanairo Reincarnation and Kinkoi: Golden Loveriche are also two solid ecchi comedy galge. Both have surprisingly deep and genuinely heartbreaking underlying mysteries and conclusions.
I still have a lot I wanna read, Planetarian is the only Key novel I’ve read. On the docket are Labyrinth of Galleria, Little Busters, the 9 -nine- series, and Kara no Shoujo and White Album 1 releasing on Steam this year. Some classics I didn’t mention are Fate/Stay Night, Muv Luv, Steins Gate. Muv Luv I read Extra and enjoyed it, but never pulled the trigger on reading the rest, I may at some point on a whim. Steins;Gate I played through half of on PS3 and now my PS3 is in the closet, the VN is really good and has a unique atmosphere to the anime, buuuuuuut knowing the plot has made it hard to want to restart on PC or another console. Steins;Gate is good, if anyone is reading this far and hasn’t seen the anime or read the VN, do it.
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hakethishere · 1 month
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Where is Sam season 4 and post-Crisis?
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I know it’s been brought up before, but Sam is a core relationship and person to Lena’s past. They are best friends “sisters” even and I refuse to believe her disappearance isn’t a massive plot hole. Let’s consider a couple of key moments Sam should’ve been brought up.
First and foremost season 4 Lex being released from prison?? Hello, your best friend’s maniac brother is on the loose, maybe a phone call would work. The irony of Lena snapping at Kara for not being there for her while Alex and even Supergirl were was also not lost on me.
Second, Lena finding out Kara is SUPERGIRL!!! To set the scene Lena finds out the her best friend is a kryptonian while Sam, her other best friend, had a wild awakening for being one as well a year before! There is literally no one better to talk to about whatever she was feeling than Sam. Moreover not only was Sam a kryptonian and knew and saw Supergirl’s struggles, but Sam was Reign!!! and for a while both Kara’s friend and Supergirl’s villain. She had front row seats to Supergirl’s hypocrisy and her poorly played split personality. To top it all off Lena had lied to Sam for her own good in order to protect Sam and because she doesn’t really trust people which was obviously not the same situation as with Kara but still, we can see some similarities that they could’ve talked about. But instead of doing so, Lena builds an AI puts it in Eve Tesmacher’s body OF ALL PEOPLE to serve as her emotional support/sounding board. (I refuse to believe that actually happened)
Third, Lena brings Andrea back into her life?! If you ever had a best friend I’m sure you’d have some reticence before allowing said best friend to bring a toxic lying ex back into their lives for god sake. Like no matter what, that decision should’ve been double checked. I love the Lena backstory with Andrea it really thickens the plot, but if I was Sam I would’ve given Lena a quick reality check on why that was a bad idea.
Fourth!!!! Post-Crisis!!!! Okay so reality changed and let’s say maybe Sam and Lena never met. But Lena kept her memories, and as (a platonic best friend according to the writers) Kara checks/makes sure that Lena remembers their complicated history first thing after saving the world, why on earth prime wouldn’t Lena do the same with Sam if they are so best friends and so platonic. But let’s say they indeed didn’t meet, I have even more questions. How did the Harun-El come to life? Was Sam Reign? Did they save her and then just moved on? how did they even realize she was Reign. And if Sam was not Reign how in the world did she get to Earth and what in the world was with the witches of the cult popping up 5th season. Will Sam become Reign? is she dormant? I have so many questions that Lena, Alex, Brainy, Kara should have too!
Side notes to that argument I have:
Lena saying every one of her friends has betrayed her in the past when Sam never did
There’s some sort of excuse the writers could give, like if Lena already had a best friend that was there for her in every sense of the word while making big sapphic eyes at Kara and going through a sapphic tragedy when Kara lied to her then well that couldn’t have been platonic could it?
Ruby and Esme. There’s absolutely no way Lena did not think of Ruby especially when Esme came around I just refuse to believe so.
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haladriel · 3 days
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so now we know his backstory I’m going to make a case for why Saurbrand didn’t think twice about abandoning Diarmid to his death for his own gain, but for some reason, only days or weeks later, dove to save Galadriel.
We are shown in season two that Sauron is mercenary and super calculating; he sizes everyone up for the best way to use them to further his own aims. And the way he’s now treating everyone else shows how different he was with Galadriel.
Diarmid’s fate shows Sauron’s ‘default’ — despite all Diarmid’s done for him in giving him a new perspective and offering him a new direction, when the situation veers a hard left, he wastes no time adapting and thinks nothing of acting strategically and taking the pouch. After all, Diarmid’s conveniently dying, and unlikely to survive a shipwreck anyway, what else is there to gain in service of his goals and nature that’s worth as much as a royal persona to adopt?
When you set this against how he treats Galadriel (i.e. didn’t leave her to die, which he very easily could’ve done), you’ve got to ask: what’s going on in there?
Maybe he thought he could use her: she’s a lot more skilled and important than Diarmid. She’s certainly proven herself capable in the sea-wyrm attack, where he no doubt values skill and competence in service of creating perfection and order, and keeping someone as powerful as her close is a wise political move. He very likely thought he could manipulate her, although he didn’t know how, or to what ends, quite yet.
Maybe he was simply interested in her. A member of the Golden House of Finarfin, out on the open sea? Since when? He might’ve guessed at the reason why; knowing that she was in the right direction for Valinor. An elf who has turned down the opportunity to go home? Unheard of.
Maybe, it’s the beginning of seeing himself reflected in her, when she sympathises with him about all he’s lost. He found himself being honest with her, in a way that he later does with no other; their first exchange on the raft was the beginning of that pattern. Maybe he is attracted to her, in this way.
Maybe it’s because why the hell not. At this point in the (now filled in) backstory, he is down and out and taking chances. Because his plan is going so well. And maybe the sea (Valar) will reconsider obliterating them if he shows some sign of repentance, holds a hand up. Maybe he knows the storm is for him, and feels some kind of ire and vitriol — ‘up yours’ — towards the Valar (‘that’s unnecessary, you heavy-handed bastards’) that they’re taking her out, as a part of that.
Maybe, it’s all of the above. And also, maybe, it’s because he’s already seeing some of that light he’s so fascinated by. In her kindness, her offering of sympathy to a stranger. And also, at this time, finds that he resonates with things she’s saying as much as vice versa. ‘You’re running. Whether towards or from something, I haven’t yet decided.’ After all, at this point, he’s temporarily diverted from his own crusade to get revenge on Adar; possibly running to, or away, from the Valar.
‘The way I see it, it wasn’t elves that chased me from my homeland. It was orcs.’ Turns out, it literally was. He’s really pissed off with his old family at this point and potentially (even just a little bit) wondering if there’s a better way. When he tells her the enemy is in the Southlands… they are. His enemy.
When you were betrayed by your closest, and everything’s gone to shit, and you meet someone who feels so similar to you, but who radiates light instead… how could you not be fascinated?
When everything you irrevocably are can be used in a different way, for a different purpose?
So he dives to save her.
(contributors to this thought train @multifandumbmeg @scifitheywrote)
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yelena-bellova · 1 year
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Heartfirst: A Ted Lasso Story - Chapter Eight
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Chapter Eight: Saturday Morning
Plot: Jamie and Y/n spend an unconventional day off together.
Word Count: 2.7k
Warnings: f!reader, language, mention of child abuse/neglect
A/N: Annndd we’re finally in it in it. A little bit of backstory, a little bit of trauma bonding and a whole lot of fluffy angst. Enjoy!!
(I also fell way behind w/ the taglist and since this series is maybe PG-13, I’m dropping the 16+ 💕)
—————
Someone was knocking on the door.
No, not knocking. Pounding.
Y/n slipped out of bed silently, as if the intruder was already inside her apartment. Bleary-eyed and stumbling in the dark, her hands fumbled for the baseball bat she kept behind her closet door. She’d had it since college and she couldn’t believe she was finally going to have to use it.
The banging continued as she walked through the apartment and down the stairs, growing louder the longer it went unanswered. Whoever was coming to abduct or rob her was clearly in a rush to do so.
Y/n steadied her breath and adjusted her grip on the bat, daring to peek through the peephole and see what she was up against.
“Wha-“ she uttered, lowering her bat and unlocking the door. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
On her stoop, Jamie was bouncing in place, “Can I use your loo?”
Y/n squinted, putting up a hand to block the bulb of Jamie’s stupid headlamp. “What?”
“Roy and I are on a run and I’ve gotta take a piss,” Jamie explained hurriedly, “You’re the only person I know in the neighborhood.”
With a heart rate well over 120 and a mind sluggish from sleep, it took Y/n a second to process his words. “I thought you were a fucking burgler,” she groaned.
Jamie whipped his hand frantically, “Is that a yes?”
Y/n was tempted to shut the door and let him take his chances with a public urination charge. Her friendlier instincts won out and she stepped to the side, letting Jamie race up the staircase to her bathroom. She shut and locked the door once more before trudging back up and setting her bat on the kitchen counter.
A moment later, Jamie emerged, calm and laughing to himself about something. “What kind of burgler knocks before robbin’ ya?”
Y/n was in no mood for his sense of humor. “It is 4-fucking-AM,” she pointed to the stove clock, “I am a single woman who lives on her own and it is 4-fucking-AM.”
“Alright, alright,” Jamie held his hands up in surrender, “Coulda texted you. I’m sorry.”
Y/n leaned against the back of her couch and wiped her hands over her face. Jamie made his way to the stairs, but was struck with a grand idea before he could take the first step.
“Do you wanna come with?”
Y/n glanced up from her palms, “What?”
“With me,” Jamie continued, “Roy. Go for a mornin’ run?”
“What part of 4-fucking-AM isn’t getting through to you?” Y/n asked, floored by his oblivion.
“Yeah, but you’re gonna be up anyway now,” Jamie shrugged, hopping from one foot to the other, “Get your blood pumpin’. Some endorphins.”
Y/n stared at him and wondered if she tried hard enough, could she kill him with eye contact alone?
“It’ll be fun,” Jamie smiled, jutting out his neck a little.
As much as it pained her to admit, he was right. There was no chance in hell she was getting back to sleep with all her senses dialed to 11. It was either tossing and turning in bed for an hour before she admitted defeat and started her day, or do something productive.
Y/n rolled her eyes and brushed past Jamie to grab her running shoes. “4 fucking AM…” she grumbled as she passed him once more.
Jamie made two victorious fists, too pleased with himself to acknowledge the fact that he’d robbed her of a precious Saturday sleep-in. She’d enjoy herself once they got out.
Grabbing a hoodie and locking up her apartment, Y/n followed Jamie out to the street where Roy was waiting on the sidewalk. Under the light of his own headlamp, he looked as confused as Y/n had moments before when he saw her trailing behind Jamie.
“The fuck are you doing here?”
“Convinced States to join us, yeah?” Jamie answered as Y/n yawned.
“I’m gonna fucking push you into the first lake we see,” Y/n glared at the back of Jamie’s head.
Roy looked between his trainee and the woman he barely knew, but respected for the threat alone. Nodding, his eyes landed on Y/n, “You can stay if you keep up.”
“No problem there,” Y/n sighed, taking off into a jog. If Jamie was going to ruin her day off, the least she could do was beat him.
Sharing a glance of amusement, Jamie and Roy ran after Y/n, into the early London morning.
—————————
It turned out to be a fair fight between Y/n and Jamie. Jamie hadn’t underestimated her, per se, but he figured her exhaustion would slow her down. She’d held her own right up against him and impressed even Roy.
“You’re fuckin’ fit, you are,” Jamie said after, the two of them having gone for tea afterwards. He quickly realized the double meaning of the word, “I mean, not like that. I mean, you are, yeah, but I mean-“
“Oh my gosh, words,” Y/n groaned, reaching with one hand to Jamie’s mouth, “Stop.”
Jamie swerved to avoid the hit, chuckling after. “You’re a proper asshole when you’re tired,” he snickered.
“Well, when I get woken up at 4AM,” Y/n glared over at the man, “No, I don’t feel particularly kind.”
The two of them strolled through Richmond, Roy having left them mere minutes ago. They’d run on and off for about an hour before Y/n had to sit through the rest of their regiment. She’d taken a great deal of joy in sitting back with Roy and yelling commands at Jamie.
“I think Roy’s gonna invite you every mornin’ now,” Jamie mused, taking a sip of tea.
Y/n faked a gasp, grasping Jamie’s bicep, “Getting to hurl insults at you? Every day? Oh, well, that’s it. Better hand Keeley my resignation.”
Jamie laughed, shoving her off him before spotting and leading them to a bench. Richmond on a Saturday morning was bustling with people, but it was a peaceful kind of frenzy. The kind you could watch and enjoy.
“Admit it,” Jamie said, sitting down, “You had fun.”
Y/n sighed, pulling her tea to her lips. No such thing would be admitted.
“Why are you even still doing this?” She asked, looking out into the park where a group of kids were kicking around a football, “Zava’s gone. You’re back to being number one. Shouldn’t you be celebrating?”
Jamie ran his fingers over his chin, she wasn’t wrong. Zava had made his unannounced exit two weeks prior. The whole reason Roy had offered to train him was to get him back to being the best. He may not have earned it, but the title had been bestowed back to Jamie. Mission accomplished.
“Think it’s more than that,” he answered, “More than Zava. I think…I know I can be better. And I wanna get there. See what I can do.”
Y/n nodded in reply, that was something she could understand. How many times had she pushed herself in school? At work? Not to beat anyone, but to know she had done her absolute best?
“Maybe it’ll pay off in Amsterdam,” she commented before taking a sip of tea. The exhibition match was just one week away.
“Ah,” Jamie smiled, “You excited?”
Y/n tilted her head from side to side in a shrug, “I guess. I’ve never been.”
Jamie’s face transformed in a split second, from content to near disgusted.
Y/n leant back, “What?”
“You’ve never been to Amsterdam?” Jamie was darn near incredulous at the mere notion.
“No,” Y/n replied, her voice jumping an octave under his judgement.
Jamie scoffed and turned away from her. “How the fuck do you live here this long and not go to Amsterdam?”
“And yet somehow, I still walk the earth,” Y/n chuckled at how bothered he was, “I’m guessing you’ve been.”
Jamie’s lips popped out very duckface-ish. “‘Course I have. Practically a fuckin’ tour guide.”
“Alright,” Y/n said, “Gimme your recommendations.”
Settling back against the bench as if he meant to stay a proper while, Jamie ran through his index. He picked through the pleasant memories, stag parties and one emergency diverted flight that ended in a particularly rowdy five star hotel evening. None of those amounted to anything stacked up against one trip taken much earlier in life.
“Gotta go to the Anne Frank house,” he began to list off ideas, “It’s super sad, but you gotta do it. There’s a really good place nearby to get stroopwafel, gotta go there. Eh, a boat ride down the canal. The tour guides driving ‘em give you all these fun facts about the architecture and the history and stuff.”
Y/n listened, it was the first time she’d seen Jamie properly excited about something. He was passionate on the field, but this was a childlike joy.
“You do remember there’s a match, right?” she laughed, “I’m only gonna end up having, like, one night.
“Then fuckin’ pack it in,” Jamie shrugged and gestured ahead of them like the country was laid out before them, “It’s Amsterdam.”
Y/n raised her cup to take a sip, “How do you know so much? You’ve really been that many times?”
“My mum took me when I were about 16,” Jamie answered, “Took me to all the historical sights and stuff. Guess it all just stuck.”
“Hm,” Y/n nodded, “What about your dad?”
What prompted her to ask, Y/n couldn’t know. She’d noticed that Jamie’s mother came up in conversation sometimes, but his father never did. Her subconscious curiosity had gotten the better of her.
Jamie felt his chest tighten at the mention of his dad. Y/n couldn’t have known anything about their relationship, he knew this. He just wasn’t sure how to reply when it was a subject he didn’t want to pick up. At all.
“Not really a thing,” he chose the safest answer, “He took me before me mum, but…wasn’t nearly as fun.”
Y/n watched his expression shift, how his eyes went from watching his fingers slide over his paper cup to the air in front of them. How Jamie was always fidgeting, but was now doing it with purpose. Worse, she recognized something about all of it.
“I’m sorry,” she backtracked, “That was way too personal, I shouldn’t have-“
“No, it’s-“ Jamie quickly held up a hand. The last thing he wanted was for her to feel bad for her innocence. “It’s fine. He’s just a,” Jamie shook his head, “Fuckin’ asshole.”
Y/n gazed down at her tea, sensing there was more that he wanted to say. Looking away not only saved her dignity, but it allowed him some quasi-privacy to say it.
“What about your folks?” Jamie finally looked back at Y/n, nudging her elbow a little.
That was worse, Y/n decided. Far worse.
“Uh,” she stalled, there was no choice but to answer, “We don’t really talk, to be honest.”
“Why not?” Jamie didn’t hesitate to ask.
Y/n inhaled deeply, blowing the air out with puffed cheeks. It was a piece of her history that she’d left in America, sending it into silent submission the second she stepped foot in London.
“We just…” Y/n shrugged, “Don’t have a relationship. Never have.”
Jamie’s brows dropped in confusion, “What’re you, like, adopted or somethin’?”
“Nope,” Y/n’s lips popped around the syllable, “They’ve just…never had any interest in their kids. Me and my sister, we kind of raised ourselves.”
“Fuck,” Jamie muttered, realizing he had definitely dug too deep. It was too late to back out though, their secrets were spilling themselves out. Better to lean into it than try and patch the all too massive leaks.
Y/n bitterly chuckled over her tea cup, “Yeah.”
Jamie absorbed what she said, leaning on his knees now. It was like he had to take a defensive position up a past that was nowhere near, yet all around him. If Y/n was going to be honest, the least he could do was match it.
“My dad and I,” he started, picking at a loose corner of the cardboard around his cup, “We kinda got in a fight. Earlier this year.”
Y/n turned to face Jamie, thinking he meant an entirely normal type of argument.
“Came back to the locker room after we lost a match,” he continued the story, “Talked a bunch of shit. Got ugly and…” Jamie hesitated, his fist feeling the phantom pain of the confrontation, “Yeah…”
Y/n’s lips parted in gentle shock, he didn’t need to finish for the meaning to come across.
Jamie could feel her eyes resting on him and found the strength to meet them. The tight smile across his face didn’t match the story, but it felt necessary. He sat back, hating the silence they were wading in.
“My parents never yelled. Not because me and my sister were perfect angels or anything, but…they just didn’t care enough to get that emotional,” Y/n admitted before she could even realize the vulnerability in which she said it with, “I mean, there was nothing we could do to even get them to pay attention to us. No recitals, no science fairs, no achievements…nothing. So long as they kept a roof over our heads and kept us breathing, they felt they were doing enough of a job.”
Jamie scoffed, bitter for both of them. “Me dad couldn’t be bothered to show up to any matches. Not when I were a kid.”
“What about when you went pro?” Y/n asked.
“Only in Manchester,” Jamie answered, “Screamin’ at me on and off the pitch that I were doin’ it wrong.”
Y/n traced the curve of Jamie’s jaw with her eyes, watching it clench. He made sense. For the first time since they’d met, he made total sense. You couldn’t go through a childhood like his and not come out with something to prove.
Their conversation became an exchange. One would share and, to make the other feel not so vulnerable, the other would chime in. “Once me and my sister could cook for ourselves, get jobs,” Y/n countered Jamie’s revelation, “My parents were even more done. It’s the main reason I came to England. To get away from them.”
Jamie was fully engaged now, his body turned to face Y/n as she matched his honesty. He knew all about running away.
“I worked so hard in school to get As, extracurricular stuff, anything I could,” Y/n gestured to the air with her cup, “So I could get out.”
“Yeah,” Jamie interjected, his memory sliding back to mornings before dawn spent on the pitch near his childhood home. He’d been just as relentless then as he was now. “Can’t tell you how many fuckin’ hours I spent just…tryin’ to get good. Tryin’ to do something he couldn’t touch.”
Whatever tolerance Y/n and Jamie had start with had long since morphed to a sort of comfortable acquaintanceship. It felt like, without ever moving from their bench, they had made some grand leap into kinship. They were both members of a club neither of them had asked to be in. With their shit spilled out on the ground before them, there was so very little left for them to hide.
“Y’know they’ve never visited me?” Y/n said softly, catching the shock on Jamie’s face out the corner of her eye, “Not once. I’ve been here since I was eighteen…not even for my graduation.”
Jamie watched with sadness as Y/n tried to hide hers. Once they found one another, it felt like there was nothing else to do but…laugh. It was one of those, this is our life laughs. Here we are, our families don’t love us, and it’s not right but here we are. Gentle and faded, but still unbelieving.
“Think we did pretty good,” Jamie said, “Yeah?”
Y/n’s smile came back, she’d allowed Jamie to cross so many of her self-drawn lines and she’d believed it had simply been out of convenience. No, there was something about him she’d only ever recognized in herself. Resilience. “Resentment’s a tremendous motivator, isn’t it?”
Jamie smirked at Y/n, wondering how he’d gravitated towards her knowing just the best, only to find out they had the worst in common. They were both a little broken, and it certainly felt better to be broken with someone else than by himself.
“I’ll drink to that,” he smiled, the two of their paper cups knocking into one another.
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phant0mmm-jaiden · 21 days
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‼️I NEED YOUR HELP MAKING FITTING BIRTHDAYS FOR THE GANG‼️
i got deep into making up set ages for characters that lack them, and also set years they joined the gang (it started bcs i needed to know whose there at the point my OC is so i can write her backstory, and now here we are)
I’m basing it mostly on zodiac signs bcs that’s like the easiest was to get a personality vibe and i can narrow down the specific date from there
but also i don’t care, ill take anything if it makes sense JSKDJFN
BELOW CUT IS EVERYTHING I HAVE RN, FEEL FREE TO ADD COMMENTS WITH UR THOUGHTS, I’LL TAKE ANY THOUGHTS FOR ANY CHARACTER (I DONT CARE IF THEY ALREADY HAVE STUFF FILLED IN BCS MAYBE YOURS ARE BETTER) AND I'LL TAKE ANY THOUGHTS FROM AGES, BIRTH YEARS, JOIN YEARS, BIRTH MONTHS, BIRTH DAYS, HOWEVER SPECIFIC YOU WANNA BE I’LL TAKE <33
(source for all traits is zodiacsign.com, idk it helps me be narrow down a specific day🤷‍♀️)
DUTCH VAN DER LINDE
- Founding member, for 23 years (1876, when he was 21)
- 44 in May 1899
- Born April 11th 1855 (Aries)
Positive April 11 traits: “Assertive, strong and remarkably passionate, they will burn every obstacle in their way if they have something to strive for. They are excellent workers and managers, showing initiative with just enough tact to be loved by a team they work in.”
Negative April 11 traits: “Preoccupied with their own problems, they could fail to see what their friends and close people are going through. Self-centered, too feisty, ready for battle when it isn't necessary, reactive, and sometimes aggressive when they should remain calm.”
HOSEA MATTHEWS
- Founding member, for 23 years (since 1876, when he was 32)
- 55 in May 1899
- Born October 22 1844 (Libra)
Positive Oct 22 traits: “Warm, open for emotional contact, and nurturing, they are tender and kind to those they love and treat everyone with enough empathy to resolve issues at hand. Their emotional sensitivity is their greatest strength.”
Negative Oct 22 traits: “Covered in sadness, broken and depressed, they might lose faith if they don’t give themselves time to rest and regenerate from past experiences. Tied by stories of their ancestors, they could simply play parts of others without getting truly invested in their own life and their happiness.”
ARTHUR MORGAN
- In gang for 23 years (since 1876,when he was 13)
- 36 in May 1899
- Born September 30th 1863
Positivity Sep 30 traits: “Truthful, powerful, deep and ready to commit to issues that are too painful for other people, they have the power to change the unchangeable and build a sense of magic in their life that allows them to attract and control their own destiny and heal others of prejudice.”
Negative Sep 30 traits: “Depressed or lost in what they’ve been taught, they could be too scared to get out of their usual directions and choices in life, getting stuck in mental activities that keep them unsatisfied, egocentric or grumpy.”
SUSAN GRIMSHAW
- In the gang for 14 years (since 1885, since she was 29)
- 45 in 1899
- Born March 27th 1856 (Aries)
Positive March 27 traits: “Standing out, innovative and wide in perception of the world, they are good friends and tend to build a social circle that can support them in their path. Free to shine and give freedom to other people.”
Negative March 27 traits: “Stressed, torn between extremes, their mood changes without warning. They can get aggressive if too much anger builds up, unsure how they will react or what their next move will be.”
JOHN MARSTON
- In gang for 14 years (since 1885, when he was 12)
- 26 in May 1899
- Born August 3rd 1873 (Leo)
Positive August 3 traits: “Straightforward, on the move, and wide in their opinions, they are the travelers with a cause, those who share their views and their knowledge selflessly, and wish to give their energy to those willing to follow.”
Negative August 3 traits: “Stubbornly chasing after things that aren’t real, they could get stuck in a loop of disappointment and mental efforts that won’t lead them where they wish to go.”
SIMON PEARSON
- In the gang for 13 years (since 1886, since he was 35)
- 48 in 1899
- Born December 16th 1851 (Sagittarius)
Positive Dec 16 traits: "Laughter, positivity, and a fun personality ordain those born on December 16th for as long as they are in tune with their talents. Emotionally charged, they stay on the move, give love to be loved, and understand how to create balance when they find themselves falling into an extreme."
Negative Dec 16 traits: "Lost in confusion of relating with others, they absorb atmospheres, feelings and ultimately opinions of others, thinking that their personality is defined by what others see instead of feeling their own core of Self."
LEOPOLD STRAUSS !!
In the gang for 12 years (since 1887, since he was 41)
53 in 1899
Born in September 10th 1846 (Virgo)
Positive Sep 10 traits: "Deep, intelligent and extremely powerful, they are focused and dedicated to the higher truth and find change satisfying, without fear of what tomorrow might bring. They bring order to large things in the lives of people around them and announce change everywhere they go."
Negative Sep 10 traits: "Obsessive, possessive and jealous, they can get dismissive of other people's ways and unwilling to recognize their own shadows while judging others. When bruised, they may become vindictive or manipulative."
UNCLE
- In the gang for 11 years (since 1888, since he was 43)
- 57 in 1899
- Born May 6th 1842 (Capricorn)
Positive May 6 traits: “Loving, creative, good with children, they are positive individuals with a lot of energy to live life to the fullest. Humorous, smiling, and grounded, they search for a place to belong to and connect easily to other people.”
Negative May 6 traits: “Unaware of the bigger picture, too focused on problems when they become aware of them, they can get obsessive and go into negative details for days. At times superficial in search for pleasure, but only if their heart isn’t open for relating.”
JOSIAH TRELAWNY
- In the gang for 9 years (since 1890, since he was 31)
- 40 in 1899
- Born May 26 1859 (Gemini)
Positive May 26 traits: “Loving, emotional, kind and caring, they are the messengers of beauty and laughter, humorous enough to make a grown person turn into a little child if this is their intent.”
Negative May 27 traits: “Using the power of words for strange things, unsatisfied and unable to find balance between emotion and reason, they get lost waiting and thinking about times when they were actually free while missing opportunities to set free in the now.”
ORVILLE SWANSON
- In the gang for 8 years (since 1891, since he was 38)
- 46 in 1899
- Born November 29th 1853 (Sagittarius)
Positive Nov 29 traits: "Idealists with a cause, they dream big and aren’t afraid to try themselves out in talents that make them who they are. On the quest for inner truth, they are sensitive, empathic and honest about the way they feel with people they love."
Negative Nov 29 traits: "Seeking attention and unable to untangle issues that keep them intoxicated or tied to the past, they could get lost, searching for ways to anesthetize that pain and forget what bruised them in the first place."
BILL WILLIAMSON
- In the gang for 5 years (since 1894, since he was 28)
- 33 in May 1899
- Born in April 27th 1833 (Taurus)
Positive April 27 traits: “Strong-hearted individuals, filled with vigor and energy for things that make them feel passionate. They are different but social, well-incorporated into society, and make excellent friends who find humanitarianism and compassion to be everything that is right in the world.”
Negative April 27 traits: “Sloppy, unsure what they wish to do with their energy and frustrated with their own nature. In opposition to themselves, they are unable to heal their own inner differences, becoming frustrated and passively angry at other people.”
ABIGAIL ROBERTS
- In the gang for 5 years (since 1894, since she was 17)
- 22 in 1899
- Born October 20th 1877 (Libra)
Positive Oct 20 traits: “Deeply emotional and empathic, if they keep their heart open throughout changes in their life, they become healers and incredible support in times of crisis and all possibly dangerous situations in the lives of others.”
Negative Oct 20 traits: “Casting their feelings away, they could become cold, distant, too difficult to relate to, and vindictive. They need a strong foundation to grow from and won’t be at all pleasant if they don’t learn to regenerate and flow with the beat of their heart.”
JAIDEN COHEN (my character )
- In the gang for 5 years (since 1894, since she was 23)
- 28 in 1899
- Born December 5th 1871 (Sagittarius)
Positive Dec 5 traits: “Witty, fun to be around, finding their way through the largest of social groups, they are the ones to speak their mind and say what everyone needs to hear, and those who boost confidence in others.”
Negative Dec 5 traits: “Talking too much, unreliable and insecure, they might turn to dishonesty to get out of troubling situations. They get distracted by too many things that spark their interest and don’t keep their focus and move in tune with greater priorities they have.”
KAREN JONES !!
- In the gang for 4 years (since 1895, since she was 21)
- 25 in 1899
- Born June 12th 1874 (Gemini)
Positive Jun 12 traits: "Emotional, sensitive, compassionate and willing to listen, they are less rational than other Gemini representatives and this gives them more space for relating and reaching for the Divine Love."
Negative Jun 12 traits: "Moody, torn between different roles and too adaptable to people and situations that don’t make them feel good. They get self-destructive when unable to deal with their own emotional baggage."
JAVIER ESCUELLA
- In the gang for 4 years (since 1895, since he was 22)
- 26 in May 1899
- Born August 13th 1873 (Leo)
Positive Aug 13 traits: “Energetic, focused visionaries, ready to act with initiative and clarity of ideals, they are the ones to fight for the cause and move forwards when others would stay behind. They are warm, passionate people, ready to learn new things and move one step ahead of the rest of the world.”
Negative Aug 13 traits: “Feeling as if they were all mighty, they often get caught up in their own ambitions and strivings, expecting nothing less than perfect from their ways of expression and battles that might be impossible to win.”
JACK MARSTON !!
- In the gang for 4 years (since 1895, since he was born)
- 4 in 1899
- Born ()() 1895
MARY-BETH GASKILL
- In the gang for 3 years (since 1896, since she was 20)
- 23 in 1899
- Born March 3th 1876 (Pisces)
Positive Mar 3 traits: “Great learners, teachers, and healers, they find love and beauty in everything they see and touch. It is their talent to use their optimism and beliefs, and turn every negative thing and experience to art, acceptable fate, and a step to a brighter future.”
Negative Mar 3 traits: “In denial, distant, lost, they can be wanderers that cannot find the right direction to move in. Their defense mechanism protecting them from hardship is delusion.”
TILLY JACKSON !!
- In the gang for 3 years (since 1896, since she was 17)
- 20 in 1899
- Born ()() 1879
MOLLY O’SHEA !!
- In the gang for 2 years (since 1897, since she was 22)
- 24 in 1899
- Born () () 1875
SEAN MACQUIRE
- In the gang for 1 year (since 1898, since he was 22)
- 26 in May 1899
- Born July 23rd 1873 (Leo) (sign rec from anon)
Positive July 23 traits: “Optimistic, with a fine sense of humor and ready to chase off any negative emotions with their smile, they are positive, loving and supportive of those they care for. Travelers and teachers, they have something important to give to the world.”
Negative July 23 traits: “Scattered and pushed by too many beliefs they never questioned, they tend to spin in circles of negative choices, lost in their inability to receive as much as they give away or vice versa.”
CHARLES SMITH
- In the gang for 9 months (Since August 1898, since he was 26)
- 27 in May 1899
- Born November 1st 1872 (Scorpio)
Positive Nov 1 traits: “Centered, standing firm on their identity and seeing the light in others, they make wonders in therapeutic and supportive relationships with those who are insecure and find it hard to stand confident on their own two feet. Strong-willed and ready to learn, they are the ones to lead the way when their beliefs are set in place.”
Negative Nov 1 traits: “Getting lost among strong individuals meant to inspire them, they give up on their true role due to lack of belief in their own emotional world and their personal convictions. This could get them lost and put their talents to waste out of the need to prove themselves worthy.”
LENNY SUMMERS
- In the gang for 9 months (since 1898, since he was 19)
- 19 in 1899
- Born June 5th 1880 (Gemini)
Positive June 5 traits: “Childlike, curious, excited about life and focused on their daily sources of happiness, they are humorous and always with a nice thing to say in just the right moment.”
Negative June 5 traits: “In need of a different view, they could get stuck in patterns that don’t give much room for personal growth. If their hearts close, they become superficial and uncaring for the wellbeing of those who aren’t in their closest social circle.”
MICAH BELL
- In the gang for 4 months (Since December 1898)
- 39 in May 1899
- Born January 1 1860 (Capricorn)
Positive Jan 1 traits: “Powerful and resourceful individuals with an incredible potential for a successful life, influential and knowing exactly where they belong. They are assertive, strong-willed, with a deep understanding for natural development of any issue at hand.”
Negative Jan 1 traits: “Inventors and great minds that turn to solitude and separate from the ideal of emotional fulfillment. Manipulative, they may be using questionable methods to reach their goals.”
SADIE ADLER
- In the gang for a few months (since May 1899, since she was 25)
- 25 in 1899
- Born July 4th 1874 (Cancer)
Positive July 4 traits: “Focused on their goal point, ambitions and understanding the consequences of their deeds, they are strong, endurable and extremely reliable as friends and confidants.”
Negative July 4 traits: “Dark and filled with depressing thoughts, they can get pulled by negative emotions, memories they don’t know how to metabolize, and nostalgic turns that pull them into harmful circumstances that weaken their boundaries.”
KIERAN DUFFY
- In the gang for a few months (since May 1899, since he was 28)
- 28 in 1899
- Born ()() 1871
THANK YOU FOR YOUR HELP ‼️
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millervrse · 1 month
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𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄𝐑! BY THE COFFEE MACHINE ! javier peña x reader
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summary: Javier Peña doesn’t like you. You’re too nice, too bubbly, and you get on his last nerve. He didn’t get how anybody in this line of work could be so goddamn cheery all the time. Though aside from your, in his eyes, forced and fake kindness, you had no bad features, and perhaps that, added to your beauty, is what ticked him off so much. Could he learn to like you the more time passes, or would you do this dance of hatred forever?
pairing: javier peña x afab!reader
warnings, notes: EVENTUAL 18+ smut, reader has a bit of an established backstory, a few uses of y/n but only when necessary, r! has a dog, references to narcos and thus real life people and occurrences (pablo escobar, the cartel, etc), ENEMIES TO LOVERS but it’s one sided because javier hates r!, r! has an established personality, grumpy x sunshine
word count: 500-
LYN SPEAKING! so this is an already finished piece that i wrote nearly a year ago, a word count of 20k+ to boot! holy fuck! this is a series from javier’s pov, though if people are interested, i’d like to throw in more chapters from reader’s pov using second person, especially for smut as the original piece was written as an sfw work. if people like this, i’m down to share much, much more! anyway, enjoy this little prologue. lyn out!
edit: read the next part HERE!
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My name is Javier Peña, and I work as an agent for the DEA in Bogotá, Columbia.
I’ve never been a commitment kind of guy. Not unless we’re talking about work, anyways. For the longest time, the only thing I’d ever call myself loyal to was just that: Work, with a side of coffee and cigarettes.
And tracking down a Columbian drug lord, but we’ll talk about that later.
I’ve seen this job do a lot of things to people. I’ve seen it better them as a person, and I’ve seen it tear them to shreds even more. I’ve seen it end up in friendships, just as much as it ends in divorce.
And I’m no genius, but if you look at the odds, the latter happens way more often.
I never would’ve guessed that, of all the goddamn people in the DEA, I would be one of the ones to experience the phenomenon that is this job bringing people together.
If you think the odds of people in the DEA either making friendships, or divorcing, or even becoming enemies is low, the odds of them falling in love is ridiculously lower. It’s almost laughable.
And let’s just say: Javier Peña was not the kind of guy who those odds would fall upon.
A year ago today, I was bullying the woman who would soon become my girlfriend, and hopefully, one day, my wife. Now that I look back on it, it doesn’t seem palpable that it even happened at all.
That same woman is in my line of vision now, playing with her dog as they run around in front of me. She’s laughing as she throws a frisbee around, chasing the Shepard mix as it runs after it. From time to time, she’ll turn back to me, flashing that brilliant smile of hers that made me fall in love with her in the first place.
“Hey, Peña! Are you coming over here or what?” she yells at me with that witty sass that’ll always bring me to my knees.
Or, in this case, my feet.
I get up from where I lay in the sand, shaking my head at her as I approach. She looks even more gorgeous than usual as she holds her hands on her hips, hanging fire for me as the sun is setting behind her.
I don’t like getting sappy. I didn’t like getting sappy, I guess. But every love with no end, surely has a beginning.
Allow me to give you ours.
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if you made it to the end of this, i really hope you liked it! please consider leaving a reblog, as they help my work immensely <3 kisses!
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