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praisethegabs · 2 months

Text

OLDER

leon kennedy x reader

synopsis: he's getting older, and he knows that. not believing in luck or in love, leon finds himself in a position of complete misfortune. he convinced himself he's not worthy of love, but that changes when he meets you.

warnings: angst with fluff ending, age gap, leon is very insecure about his age and the reader. strangers to lovers, mentions of smut, ptsd, alcoholism, depression, suicidal thoughts. reader is very delicate, kind, and patient. there's parts from the vendetta book and a few scenes from re6. it starts with re6!leon and ends with di!leon

word count: 15k

a/n: guess who's back? to celebrate the 1 year re4r anniversary, I decided to post this one shot I was working for almost two months. I'm into my angst era again. also i wrote this based on this analysis i read, which made me think about the broken part of leon for a while, also this fic contains part of the vendetta book. feel free to leave comments, reblogs, tips, or positive critics. they're always very welcome ❤️

I. THE WEIGHT ON HIS SHOULDERS

Life can be a bitch sometimes.

This is what he says to himself when he finishes another bottle of whiskey. Every day, when he opens his eyes, he tries to stay positive, hoping his day will be different from his usual schedule; in the end, it is always the same bullshit. Over and over again. No apparent ending; always his solitude.

But someday it must end, right? He can’t be fighting B.O.W.'s for the rest of his life, can he? Maybe someday he’ll finally settle down and have a peaceful day. Maybe, on this day, his nightmares will stop, and if he’s lucky, he’ll sleep for the entire night. No one can blame him for dreaming of a perfect life, and no one can take this from him.

The government made him their slave, their deadly pet that follows and obeys every rule and command, and forced him to risk his neck almost every week to keep their country safe. What a bunch of assholes, he thinks to himself. Thing is, Leon hates himself for what he was forced to become.

There is so much pain. So much suffering. He only wanted to be a cop — nothing more than that. He wanted to deal with simple things — not bioterrorists ready to blow up the entire world, not grotesque mutations that defy the natural order of things. Certainly, if he had a choice to go back and change that night, he wouldn’t go to Raccoon City. He would've stayed in his cheap hotel room; he would have obeyed Marvin’s orders to not go in there.

But now he’s something else. The rookie cop who had to survive that night died. He can’t even recognize himself anymore, and sometimes, he blames himself for it. No more than he blames the government for it; if he could go back…

His days are filled with this emptiness — the sensation that he might never see his happy ending. Ada? Yeah, sure. He knows he can’t trust her, and God knows where she is or what she’s doing. He was so naive to fall for her like he did. While on his free day out of the office, he finds himself with a certain envy of happy couples. He can’t stop thinking: why can’t he have the same? Why can’t he be happy for once?

Getting older sucks. At this point, Leon thinks and has already convinced himself that he doesn’t belong to anyone and that he won’t be able to have someone. To experience love and being loved, he wants to be wanted. He’s getting older and still doesn't have anyone by his side. That’s the price he pays for having this life, and he still blames the government for taking it from him. He doesn’t remember the last time he actually felt something for someone, and at this moment of his life, it doesn’t matter to him anymore. Leon had already accepted the fact that he'd die alone. Maybe he’ll get a cat to keep him company. Since he’s not much of a dog person since Raccoon City, maybe he’ll name her a cute name; who knows? That’s probably the closest he’ll get to having something waiting for him at home.

Leon doesn’t remember the last time he actually felt happy. Since Raccoon City, he doesn't know what happiness means, and sometimes, on very rare occasions, he envies people around him. He feels like his entire life has no purpose and no meaning, and he’s completely faded to emptiness, to a sad existence based on killing bioweapons and serving his country. Does he feel proud about it? No, he doesn’t.

It’s been a very long time since Leon felt pride. That feeling died and is now buried in the remains of Raccoon City, inside that police station where his life turned upside down. Now he’s only an empty shell of what he used to be. He’s rotting inside, craving something he knows he can’t have, and there’s nothing but a void inside him, consuming every inch of him.

After serving his country for years, he started to get used to the idea that maybe he wasn’t made for a happy ending, and he shouldn’t bother with such things. He can’t afford the luxury of being with someone, because it means being vulnerable, and it also means he would have to open himself to things he swore he would never feel again. No, thank you.

Things at work aren’t exactly the best, either. Years ago, Leon started to question himself about whether the government cared about their people, especially the ones he had to kill in order to save others. Leon couldn’t forget what happened in Spain — the entire village he was forced to end so he wouldn’t die. Perhaps they could’ve saved them; possibly they could’ve had a chance; maybe if… and this is where he dozes off thinking about the infinite possibilities.

After what happened in Raccoon City, Leon knew he had lost faith. He knew things would never be the same after everything he saw that day. Sometimes, he finds himself thinking about Annette and William Birkin. He feels his body shivering when he remembers he had to fight for his life, clinging to something bigger than him. Survival.

II. RINSE AND REPEAT

He has no social skills, and doesn't know how to interact with people anymore. It all feels weird and uncomfortable, and it makes him feel terrible. Sometimes he feels like he’s stuck in time and can’t have a proper conversation with someone normal. The worst part of his life is that he feels he’s carrying a weight on his shoulders that it wasn’t supposed to be his in the first place. He has the weight of the world with him, and there is no one to help him through it. Life made him depressed, cold and distant. Life has built him this way; he's shaped himself into something he’s not, and he can’t find himself. He’s lost.

Leon can’t stop having nightmares about Raccoon City.

At this point, he just accepted that they wouldn't go away. It feels like he’s trapped inside his own mind, and there’s no turning back. Sometimes at night, he keeps looking at his ceiling imagining a different life, where he was a cop and happy. Usually, his nightmares are so dark and deep that when he wakes up, he finds solace in the sunlight, feeling relieved that he survived another night. When he doesn't sleep, when he’s too scared to close his eyes, he cries quietly, protected by the walls of his room, searching for assurance and a promise that everything will be fine. It doesn’t always work, but now he knows he can control his fears, and somehow, it helps him feel safe.

This time, his mission nearly got him killed. His entire body was full of bruises and wounds, and every part of him hurt. He felt his body swallowing a little, and he felt terrible again. He has blood under his nails, and he washes himself at least three times to make sure there’s nothing more on him than the burden of being a slave for the government.

Leon is paranoid; he can’t stand the fact that he has blood on his hands. If he sees a spot, he’ll clean it until there’s nothing left, and maybe he’s now too obsessed with the idea of being clean. It makes him feel sick to the bones, because he knows what he does and what it means. He knows that this guilt won’t be washed away like the blood on his hands, and certainly won’t get away from his head like it does from his clothes whenever he launders them. It’s a pretty shitty routine, but he’s used to it.

Now he finds himself in a very dark place; he can’t eat without feeling guilty. He can’t do the basics of his chores because he can’t stop thinking about his life, regretting every decision he made. Everything he does seems mechanical, like he’s repeating the process over and over again, a perfect killing machine that has no one to care about. On Fridays, he finds himself sitting on his couch, in complete silence, holding an empty bottle. He knows he can’t drown himself in alcohol, no matter how much he wants it or how tempting it sounds, because the liquid doesn’t affect him anymore. It doesn't make the pain go away or silence the horrors he saw during his life.

After three weeks inside his house, locked inside his room, Leon woke up with a strange feeling inside his chest. Something was telling him that this day would be different, like a big change would happen. For the first time in weeks, he decided to leave his place for a simple walk. He could do that; he could walk into the market and buy some real food or maybe get a haircut. He felt that he was able to allow himself to have an ordinary day.

After taking a long shower, Leon decided to wear cozy and comfortable clothes. He was so used to his brutal routine that he almost forgot what it was like to have a normal day, but this time, he was willing to try something different. He took a deep breath before leaving his house, and when he felt the soft, cold breeze reaching his skin, he knew he could do that.

Step by step, Leon found himself walking towards the market, even enjoying the lovely view he had from his neighborhood. He doesn’t remember it to be so… gray. Sure, he knows what winter is, but he doesn’t remember the last time he actually stayed at his home during the winter. His lips turn into a small smirk, and he thinks how silly he is. When he reaches the small market, which is more of a store, he walks slowly, looking at what he might be buying - he’s done with frozen food. He stops at the veggie section and keeps looking at it, confused.

“These aren’t fresh” a sweet voice is enough to wake him up from his trance. He looks in that direction, and all he sees is you.

“How can you tell that?” he asks you in visible confusion, which makes you smile. And that smile was enough to sparkle something oddly inside him.

“Color, smell, texture,” you explained, still smiling and showing him a fresh vegetable. “This one is fresh."

"Thanks,” Leon replied awkwardly, taking the vegetable from your hand and placing it in his basket.

“You don’t come here very often. I know almost everyone who comes to buy food here,” you said next, glancing at him with curiosity.

“I… have a busy schedule,” he says, still sounding awkward.

“Really? Well, you should definitely take some time to buy healthy food. I’m pretty sure you do a lot of workouts to keep your body in shape” you giggle, noticing the size of his muscles, which makes his face turn red.

“I’ll keep that in mind” Leon managed to say, although he wanted to dissipate from Earth.

“I can help with that” you suddenly said, analyzing him more carefully.

“With what?” Leon frowned, already feeling his heart beating ten times faster.

“I noticed you’re having difficulty with your right arm, which makes me think you got it hurt. If you’re planning to buy more, I can help with your bags” you offered, very polite and kind, catching him by surprise.

“Thanks” Leon says, finding himself smiling, which is unusual.

At first, having some company after so much time alone made him think it was strange. He wasn’t feeling ready to have a small conversation, but you didn’t seem bothered. In fact, you were enjoying walking to this stranger's house in complete silence. Fifteen minutes later, you were in front of his house in an awkward silence between the two of you.

“I guess this is it” you smiled at him, and Leon found himself lost in your smile.

“Yeah. Thank you” he said for the fifth time, which made you giggle a little.

“Anything for a customer” you said to him, giving him his bags. “My parents are the owners, so…”

“You don’t seem too old” he said, and after a second, he felt more weird. “I mean…”

“Nah, it’s ok. This isn’t the first time people say I'm younger than I look”. You smiled again, thinking that this old man was very silly and cute. “I’m 25, don’t worry”

“I’m Leon, by the way” He finally says his name to you, stretching his hand in a very educated way.

“Nice to meet you, Leon” you said before shaking his hand.

Leon took at least three weeks to return to the market.

His initial thoughts about you were that he definitely felt weird in your presence. Maybe he felt that way because of his lack of social skills and because he really sucks when the subject is social conversation. He caught himself thinking too hard about the visual and evident contrast between the two of you; you were young, bright and smart, with a great future ahead of you, and plus, you came from a loving family. Leon, on the other hand, was an orphan used and abused by the government, their pet and a man who only knew pain and brutality.

However, you were the first friendly face he saw after years. The way you were smiling and giggling at his awkward answers, it definitely made him feel something he thought he would never feel again. It was like you found the rookie cop inside him, and despite the fact that he barely said something, he felt normal around you. And that was more than enough. How could it happen so fast?

“How can I help you?” you said before noticing it was him. “Oh, hi”

“Hi” Leon is welcomed by that smile of yours. “I… um…”

“You came to buy more veggies?” you ask, still smiling at him. You think it’s cute to see him without any words.

“No… I just came because I’m looking for food seasoning” Leon said, his face slightly turning red. “I’m trying new recipes, so…”

“Yeah? What have you been trying?” you ask with sudden enthusiasm, leading him to the part with seasonings.

“Nothing too risky” he answers vaguely, following you closely.

“What kind of seasonings do you like?” You turn back to face him as you show him the shelves with different types of seasonings.

“I’m more into spicy flavors” Leon tells you, his attention going to the shelves.

“It suits you” you said, giving him some space. You saw him smiling again.

"How does spicy seasoning suit me?” he asks with a hint of curiosity.

“You might think I’m weird, but… seeing from outside, you look like someone with a rough agenda and, apparently, whatever you do is dangerous. Personally, I think you suit perfectly spicy things” you said, hoping it would make sense.

“I think I got your point,” Leon said, and then he found himself smiling for the second time.

“Lucky me, right?” you laugh, walking back to the cashier. “Is this all for today?”

“Yeah, I guess it is,” Leon nods, grabbing his wallet to pay for the seasonings.

“How’s your arm?” you ask, taking his money and counting it.

“It's better. I had to take a few painkillers, but it’s definitely better” he said, avoiding you for a few moments.

“That’s great. I know a few herbs to help with the pain” you said, giving him the change from his purchase.

“How so?” Leon asks with another hint of curiosity.

“A great sorcerer doesn’t reveal her secrets” you wink playfully at him. “You need to earn that, soldier”

“And how could I earn your secrets, great sorcerer?” Leon asks, enjoying your playful mood.

“Maybe you can invite me for dinner and show me your cooking skills” you shake your shoulders and, for the second time, catching him by surprise.

“You would love that, wouldn't you?” Leon said, and a slight smirk appeared on his lips.

“Who knows?” You wink playfully at him, with another suggestive smile on your lips.

The world has gone to hell, Leon thinks to himself.

He starts to contemplate everything that has happened to him. When did this madness begin? It was back in Raccoon City? Oh, no. It is way older than that. Maybe his collapse started when his family died, and he was left an orphan; what happened in Raccoon City wasn’t really the beginning of his nightmare. It was the cherry on top of the torments that would become his life.

Now that he’s coming back home from another mission, he can’t stop thinking how his life could’ve been if Umbrella had never happened. If those bioweapons were never created, defying every natural order. He looks outside his window, and he just can’t stop blaming himself for Tall Oaks.

What has become of this world? Leon thinks. Where did I go wrong?

His life is an entire mistake. It just goes on and on. His family first, then Raccoon City. Tricell, Los Illuminados, Uroboros and, finally, that nightmare at Tall Oaks. Leon takes a deep breath. He feels his hands shaking and closes his eyes, forcing himself to forget. How silly he is!

The future is a hell that’s only getting worse.

III. THE PAIN OF REMEMBERING

You weren't expecting Leon to find the note with your number that you left on his seasonings, the same way you weren't expecting him to call you.

However, something about him got your attention the minute he stepped foot inside the store. He wasn't like anything you had seen before; he was definitely something else.

After almost four weeks since the last time you saw him, you got a call from an unknown number. It was pretty late at night, but your curiosity won the battle within you, and you had to pick up the phone. With a groggy voice of sleep, you saw the number and frowned.

“Hello?” You ask, followed by a big yawning. It was one in the morning.

“Hi… um, it's Leon” he says with some urgency, to which you jump from your bed. “I'm sorry to wake you up”

“No, don't worry. I wasn't sleeping” you lied, forcing yourself not to yawn again.

“I know it's late, but… I was thinking about that dinner…” he says, sounding somehow hopeful. “Maybe you could come later and… talk?”

“Yeah, sure. Can you pick me up?” You ask him, and a smile appears on your lips as you answer him.

“Of course. At seven?”

“At seven, it is,” you smiled again.

As soon as the call ended, he was in complete shock. For some reason, Leon felt you wouldn’t accept his invitation, especially after being alone for so long. His heart was beating faster inside his chest, and he had to remind himself that it was just a casual date between… two friends? Could you possibly be his friend?

Leon felt anxious, something he only felt when he was on his missions.

Suddenly, the mere thought of having you at his home with him sounded terrifying. He felt like it would end in a complete disaster, and you wouldn’t see him ever again. Then, Leon had to stop and calm himself down, knowing it was his trauma trying to get the best of him. After everything he went through in his life, being able to trust someone proved to be a difficult task. He felt scared, and his mind was racing with thousands of different thoughts, each worse than the other.

Betrayal is the word that defines Leon.

He was betrayed before and multiple times, which left him with a lot of insecurities and traumas to the point he feels that he can’t trust anyone, which led to another set of insecurities. Leon feels that he isn’t enough anymore, that he can’t provide the proper attention someone might need from him, and that he can’t be in a relationship because of his problems. The truth is, he can’t be in a relationship until he leaves his trauma behind, and he knows it. That’s the easy part, but the hard one is how to let it go.

Later that day, Leon finally had the courage to clean his house. He needed some motivation to get rid of his depression, and nothing was better than finally allowing himself to have some company besides his solitude. His house smelled pretty good, everything was clean, and his furniture was even shining. He opened the curtains, and the sunlight entered his living room. He took a deep breath with the fresh air that came inside, and smiled, feeling somehow proud and happy.

At seven, you were waiting outside the store, scrolling through your phone, when you saw Leon approaching on his motorcycle. You were gorgeous, wearing a beautiful dress and covered by a black leather jacket — the perfect contrast that suited you well. Leon was completely mesmerized by the sight of you - so beautiful, he thought.

“Hey, there” you waved at him as he parked next to you.

“Hi,” Leon replies, sounding embarrassed. “You look beautiful”

“You too, handsome” you said playfully, taking the helmet from his hand and sitting behind him, your hands holding him tight. You didn’t notice the small blush on his cheeks.

"Are you okay back there?” Leon asks you, making sure you were fine before starting the engines.

“Yeah, I’m fine” you said, nodding your head, and smiling when he started to drive his bike to his place.

You two didn’t take long enough to reach his place. Leon offered you his hand so you had support to get out of his bike, and he even opened the front door for you. He led you inside his house, and everything inside was enough to show you the kind of man he was; his home was big, but simple. He had a lot of comfort there, but it seemed like he didn't spend much time at his place. You saw some photos at the fireplace, a few when he was younger, at some training camp with his possible friends.

“How old were you when you took these?” you asked him with curiosity.

“I was twenty-one” he said, grabbing the wine and the glasses.

“So young” you whispered, noticing that in some pictures, he was sad.

Leon took another deep breath. Why did this have to be so difficult? Why couldn’t he be just normal for once? Why did everything have to happen to him? You were standing there, so gracefully, observing his old photographs, so young and full of life, with no baggage with you. Someone actually happy and alive. If you knew how much he envies this.

“People say that our eyes are the windows to our soul” you turn to face him, noticing his sudden silence. “Yours are so sad and broken… what happened to your neck?”

Instinctively, his hand reaches his neck, and Leon feels the bandage perfectly secured on his skin, with a small spot of blood. Gladly, it was enough to change the subject, because he was shocked enough by what you said about his broken soul. If you only knew.

“I, um… got hurt on my job. It’s nothing.” Leon tries to avoid speaking about his past.

“It seems pretty bad” you step closer to him, your hand gently touching his bandage.

“It’s nothing… trust me” Leon smiles weakly, looking down. His heart is beating so fast inside his chest that he could explode any time. “I’m fine”

“Then explain why you are so nervous around me” you whispered, now softly touching his cheek.

Leon felt he stopped breathing, like his lungs decided to leave him alone and deal with the matter himself; how powerful your touch felt. It was enough to break every wall he built around himself for years; it was enough to make him break. And it was only a soft and kind touch. He slowly closed his eyes, his breath becoming normal again, and he allowed himself to just feel it.

“I don’t know what on earth happened to you…” your voice is full of kindness as you speak, now seeing him hold your hand as you keep touching his cheek. “But I’m always here if you decide to talk”

Leon was reaching his breaking point.

He was used to being a slave, always using his body, mind and soul to provide safety for the others without them knowing one damn thing about it; he was used to always being alone, to the point that kindness was a strange feeling, almost not existing at all and that he didn’t deserve it. But here you are.

“It hurts to remember,” he confessed, his voice a low whisper. “I tried to forget it, but I can’t”

When he felt you wrapping your arms around his body and your warmth embracing him, Leon felt his eyes getting wet. He was so deeply touch starved, craving something so human, that when he got it, he knew he was going to break. His mind was racing, and his body was trying to process the feeling and react in the proper way. He felt so many emotions at once that he thought he was going insane.

“Please, keep holding me” Leon begs, his arms finding their way through your back as he hugs you back. “Because I know I’ll fall if you let me go”

After that night, it took almost two months until Leon decided to show up at the store to see you again. He felt nervous, but at this point, he realized that, for some reason, he couldn’t stay away from you; he felt that you had some type of magnetism enough to keep him close, which made him feel comfortable, something he hadn't felt in a while.

However, before he went to the store to see you, he needed courage. Leon thought you would be upset with him after being ghosted for almost two months, although he felt responsible for it, since he never told you the nature of his job or why he was so absent. Sadly, Leon was again in a spiral of sadness and depression. His last mission was a disaster, and Leon knew he had no control over his feelings again. He was sitting on his bed, contemplating the bottle in his hands. The curtains were closed, and the atmosphere inside his room was darker. He closes his eyes for a brief moment, and then, he’s there again.

June 29, 2013. Tall Oaks, USA

“It might create more problems than it solves…” the voice of the president echoes inside his head as he points his gun towards the said person.

Leon doesn't recognize the man in front of him, or what he used to be. He keeps his gun raised, his grasp around the trigger getting tight by the second he makes his decision. His voice comes and goes, creating a tense atmosphere around him.

“Bio-organic weapons are a global threat and we are partly to blame…” Benford said once to Leon when he expressed his desire to expose the truth about the Raccoon City Incident. He looks at the living corpse in front of him. Tick tack. He knows what he needs to do. “I’ve always valued your friendship, Leon… It’s time to take responsibility and end this mess”

He shakes his head, somehow returning to his reality.

“Stay right where you are!” Leon said, his voice sounding cracked and angry. The corpse starts walking towards him and as a reflex, his grip gets more tight. “Mr. President!”

The zombie starts walking towards him and the woman next to him. He hesitates for a moment, unsure and sure about what he needs to do. Every part of him screams and begs, trying to find a solution. He knows it’s too late. He can’t save the president, he can’t save anyone.

“Don’t make me do this” Leon gritted his teeth, trying to find any reason to avoid what needed to be done. It happens fast. Adam Benford, the former president of the United States and now a corpse, throws himself towards her. “Adam!” Leon screams.

He pulls the trigger.

And there’s only blood.

He gets out of his thoughts when he hears someone knocking on his front door. It doesn't take too long for him to finally stand up and see who’s there, and, inside his mind, he’s already preparing himself to tell this person to leave him alone, but his entire demeanor changes when he opens the door, and all he sees there is you.

“You’re back” you smiled warmly at him, your cheeks red because of the cold temperature. “I wasn’t sure you were home”

“What are you doing here?” Leon’s first question isn't as welcome as you thought it would be.

“A friend can’t see a friend?” you answered simply, and the smile never left your lips.

“I’m sorry” he sighs, giving you space to enter his place. “I didn’t mean to be rude”

“Don’t worry” you said, removing your scarf and hat. “Are you ok?”

“I’m fine, I guess” Leon nods slowly, and you notice he’s not entirely well.

“Breakfast?” you ask him, wanting to confirm your suspicions, and he nods quietly.

You had difficulty finding yourself inside his place, since you’ve been there only once. You notice that he’s quiet, and despite that fact, which is completely normal for him, you know that there’s something wrong. So, you decided to go simple with his breakfast. Almost forty minutes later, you came back with a plate full of pancakes, crispy bacon, scrambled eggs, and some orange juice.

He leisurely used his knife and fork to eat the food you made. The careful manner in which he ate wasn’t due to his cautious nature, but rather because he had a terrible hangover that messed with his coordination, and rushing could easily lead to a slip of the hand and his shaking. Leon was a pretty man, and he could easily take on leading roles in Hollywood blockbusters. However, he currently sported a scruffy beard, exuded a weary atmosphere, and radiated fatigue and discontent.

“I think I reached rock bottom,” Leon finally says, but he avoids your gaze at all costs.

“Then I’ll help you get out of there” you said with kindness, your pinky finger interlocking with his.

IV. GRIEF AND BARGAIN

The path to healing isn’t always easy, and now Leon is aware of that.

The year is now 2014 and he’s struggling to forget what happened a year ago. Sometimes, when his mind is quiet, he starts to wonder. Is it possible that there could have been a world without Umbrella and zombies? Leon scoffed and shook off his sweet dreams. A world without zombies? That's something from a long time ago. The future is only going to become a worse hell. Then, he has to remind himself about the great things he has in life. You are one of these things.

Although he has your support, he knows that he’ll only get better walking this path by himself. The winter deciduous forest looked like branches made of human bones. A mixed forest with a walking path spread out. This is a high-end residential area in Bethesda, Maryland, where congressmen and bureaucrats commuting to Washington spend their nights. In the depths of a thicket, there was a slightly open gentle sloping area where the desired building was located. It was a designer house filled with a sense of openness, with all outer walls covered in glass, and it appeared like a model intended to showcase beautiful scenery rather than a place for people to live in.

The luxury was excessive to the point where it seemed somewhat like a toy. Leon had hidden himself in the thicket away from the road and was monitoring the designer house through binoculars with night vision capabilities. It was an unacknowledged fact, but a traitor to the country was living in this mansion. Senator Steven Air, who had sold information to a bioterrorist organization, was one of many government officials who had been involved in the incident in Tall Oaks where the President became a victim of B.O.W. Simmons, the President's aide, was among those who betrayed the government. And Leon still blames himself for what happened that night.

Currently, fifteen members of the Division of Security Operations (DSO) and two stealth drones have surrounded Steven's mansion. It was necessary to capture him and extract plenty of information before bringing him to trial. According to reports from aerial surveillance, Steven was on his way home by car from Washington. The distance from the White House to Bethesda was approximately twelve kilometers, and it would take about thirty minutes if he drove fast. Leon shifted his focus to his shoulder holster with a handgun. Of course, capturing him alive was best, but there was no hesitation in shooting the traitor if he resisted.

Leon suddenly remembers. This is Bethesda. The name is derived from the Bible. From the Gospel of John–

“Now there is in Jerusalem near the Sheep Gate a pool, which in Aramaic is called Bethesda and which is surrounded by five covered colonnades. Here a great number of disabled people used to lie — the blind, the lame, the paralyzed. One who was there had been an invalid for thirty-eight years."

Jesus healed the man who had been sick for 38 years. God's love and His miracles. Bravo. That's exactly what this world needs in this hell.

"Target approaching."

As he thinks about the Bible, a communication comes through his earpiece. It's a report from the overhead surveillance team flying a drone. A roadway that weaves through a grove of mixed trees was approached by Stephen's white Porsche, an elegant luxury car resembling a graceful white swan. Perhaps dozens, hundreds of people may have died to buy that car. Such is the life of a villain.

"Visual on the target vehicle. Secure upon my GO signal," Leon whispered into his radio microphone. Both the earphones and microphone were of a bone conduction type that excelled in noise resistance. It converts vocal cord vibrations transmitted through the skull directly into voice signals. It was a perfect gadget for special operations where one couldn't make loud noises or miss instructions in the midst of noise.

The Porsche approached the garage.

"GO," Leon said sharply.

At that moment, two SUVs that had been hiding in a blind spot by the roadway started their engines like barking dogs and closed in on the Porsche at tremendous speed, trapping it in a pincer movement as planned. The driver of the Porsche was Stephen's secretary, with a bodyguard in the passenger seat and Stephen himself in the back seat.

Suddenly trapped from the front and back, they were thrown into confusion. Leon wondered – would the bodyguard or secretary resist? There was no doubt that they were carrying guns. He didn't want to give them unnecessary visibility, but he would deal with it when the time came. The agents jumped out of the trees. In the next moment, Stephen's Porsche exploded.

A deafening roar and shock. The high-performance explosive device planted under the car's body lifted the Porsche several meters off the ground, engulfing it in flames. And caught up in it, the DSO's SUVs overturned as well. The window glass of all the cars shattered into tiny pieces, the car bodies twisted and burned the people inside. All six agents from the team on foot, including Leon himself, were blown backwards by the force of the blast. Leon still thinks like he’s floating in the air, an eerie feeling of weightlessness that ended when he felt his body slamming against a tree trunk. In those fleeting moments, his consciousness waned, and it was the closest he had come to death.

Yet, it seemed the Grim Reaper was not yet ready to claim him.

Pain, intense and searing, jolted Leon’s awareness back to life, a grunt of pain escaping his lips. Leon struggled to his feet, and he threw up, retching repeatedly. His consciousness ebbed and flowed like waves, and he knew that rest was essential. Leon suspected that his ribs and collarbone were either fractured or cracked, but, fortunately, his arms and legs remained unbroken. Gritting his teeth, he managed to force his dislocated left shoulder joint back into place, enduring the excruciating pain, as he tried to work out which way was up.

There are bruises littered across his skin, scratches and abrasions where the bark of the tree tore his flesh. The shock of the explosion and the fear of death… an unpleasant feeling of internal organs turning over welled up. No matter how many times he experienced it, he could never get used to the terror of a close-range explosion. The air was knocked from his lungs; his breathing temporarily stopped; his eardrums were about to burst; and his knees were weak. He can barely stand. Leon finally sits up, willing his agent training to give him a sense of urgency even though his body is screaming in agony. The stench of gasoline fills the air, but Leon can barely smell it. His sense of smell and hearing are both almost gone. What the hell happened? Leon asked himself in front of the burning Porsche.

He feels paralyzed.

It was three in the morning when your phone started to ring.

It was an unknown number, and you had to fight the necessity of hanging up; something inside you told you to pick up the call, which you did. It was Leon, and the way his voice sounded on the phone made you aware that something bad had happened. Terrible, nonetheless. You drove to his location, and you found yourself shocked when you found smoke, fire and the smell of gasoline among a lot of government agents and military personnel. You found Leon sitting in the back of an ambulance, his body covered by a blanket, as he was examined by a paramedic. Not only that, but you had credentials to enter that isolated area, and the way those agents were rushing from one side to the other, talking on their phones, made it clear that someone important had died. You made your way towards Leon, not daring to look around, and when you reached him, you saw tears in his eyes. You hugged him tight, like you were holding the world in your hands.

“It’s ok, I got you” you said to him, your words full of assurance and kindness.

Leon refused to be taken to the hospital; instead, he asked you to drive him back home, since he felt he couldn’t do it on his own. The ride back to his place was silent, and you decided to respect his space, although you saw him trying to find solace in something real. He couldn’t stop playing with his finger, showing an elevated level of stress and anxiety. You have never seen him like this before.

“Can you stay?” Leon suddenly asked when you pulled over in front of his house. “I… don’t want to be alone”

“Yeah, sure” you nodded, noticing how vulnerable he was, which was odd.

You heard him groaning in pain once he got out of your car, but he refused your help, insisting he was fine. Knowing him well at this point, you gently held his hand, offering nothing but your support, and Leon quietly appreciated your effort. You helped him sit on his couch and heard him mutter something only he could understand. Judging by the look on his face and the way his hands were still shaking, you knew he was in shock.

“Do you have any first aid kits or something?” you asked him, hoping you would gain his attention.

“I’m fine” Leon replies, his eyes fixated on his shaky hands. You sat next to him, holding his hands and scratching his skin softly.

“It’s ok not to be okay." Your voice is almost a whisper as you look into his blue eyes. “You don’t have to be tough all the time”

You saw him reach the breaking point.

Feeling embraced by your kindness and safety, Leon finally allowed himself to feel his emotions — the same ones he fought hard to bury deep inside him — in the same place he swore he would never visit again. In the cozy atmosphere of his living room, having nothing but you as solace, the brunette agent gave himself a break, and when he did that, his eyes started to get watery.

After Raccoon City, Leon shut himself up so he wouldn’t be hurt ever again. He used to keep his emotions contained; he used to not think of them. He kept everything bottled up, because he knew he couldn’t handle it. Leon was so traumatized that the way he dealt with his feelings was to pretend they didn’t exist, in the first place. After Spain, it got worse. Nightmares after nightmares, the paranoia of still being infected with Las Plagas, everything that came after this.

But here you are, telling him that it is ok not to be okay, that he doesn’t have to be tough, and that it is okay to feel and to be vulnerable. He couldn’t stop sobbing; his hands were still shaking, but he didn't even care about this at the moment. Gently, you started to play with his hair, your fingers slowly going up and down on his head, providing comfort and care — exactly what he’s been missing his entire life.

“I lost them all” Leon started to say through sobs. “I saw them dead”

“It wasn’t your fault” you assured him with calm words.

“I failed them," he says as he looks at you, his blue eyes shining with tears as they fall through his skin.

“That’s not true. You didn’t know the car was about to explode or whatever happened there” You tried to calm him down.

“We were watching him; it was my responsibility to make sure they would be safe… it was my job to ensure that” Leon sobs again, and you can see he’s struggling to breathe due to his anxiety attack.

“Listen, you’re too nervous right now. Come on, take a deep breath with me” you said, hoping he would listen and cope.

Leon nods between sobs and takes several deep breaths to try to calm himself down. You took a glass of water and gave it to him, then you took his hand into yours, whispering words of assurance and kindness. You decided to put him to rest, and it wasn’t necessary to drag Leon into his bed; the moment you step foot inside his room, you can see how severe his depression is. Successfully, you were able to lay him down and remove at least his boots. Leon curled into his blankets and muffled his sobs with his pillows.

“Do you want me to stay here until you fall asleep?” you ask, sitting on his bed with him, moving his hair from his eyes. He nodded silently.

Slowly, his sobs turned into sniffs, and Leon finally fell asleep. It took almost an hour to calm him down completely, but now he was safe and sound into a peaceful slumber, or what appears to be. You don’t recall exactly when you fell asleep on his bed, but you certainly remember when you woke up to the sound of his screams. Leon never told you about his nightmares, and you weren’t expecting that. His chest was drenched in sweat, and he seemed like he couldn’t breathe. His eyes were filled with fear, and he was shaking head to toe.

“Fuck” Leon mutters, his hand running through his hair.

“What happened?” you ask him after turning the lights on.

“Just a nightmare…” he whispers, trying to calm down again.

“How frequent are they?” It was a bold question, but you needed to know.

“Every night” Leon ignores your glance, focusing on his shaky hands again.

“Here, drink it” you give him a glass of water with sugar to calm his nerves. You already had that glass with you the moment you went with him to his room.

“Do you even like me?” Leon suddenly asks you.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re so kind, beautiful, and young, with so much in your future” Leon sighs heavily. “Why would you be with a… broken man like me? I have nothing to offer but traumas and the big baggage of my shitty life”

The pressure you put on biting your lip was so intense that it was enough to cut your skin and make it bleed.

“Who says you have nothing to offer? I don’t think that’s true. You’re a wonderful person, Leon. I can see it every day when you come to see me at the store. The way you smile whenever you are around me, the way your eyes shine…” you said to him, hoping it would be enough to give him some comfort. “I don’t see you as a broken person or a man with the baggage of a shitty life. I can’t imagine what must have happened to you, and I know it must be difficult and hard because that's what I see, but, Leon, the darkness around you doesn’t define who you are. Whatever life did to you, it doesn't dictate your present or future."

No matter how many kind words you say, it isn’t enough for him. Leon blames himself for what happened, and you know he won’t forget it so soon. How can he? Those men trusted him and followed him, and now, they’re all dead. Leon thinks he should’ve saved them, even though he knows he couldn’t guess the car was about to explode.

“I wish I could heal your soul so you wouldn’t suffer anymore, but I can’t” you sigh, then look at his hand. “I wish I could fight all of your demons, but I can’t do that. I’m here and I don’t intend to leave you alone”

After holding his hand, it was the first night Leon actually slept without any more nightmares. When he woke up the next morning, he felt his eyes heavy and he instantly remembered how he cried the night before after his entire squad was murdered. Then, he also remembered that you were there with him the whole time. Finally, he noticed how strange that feeling was - the feeling of being comforted instead of comforting others. It was a strange feeling indeed, but it was a good one.

Lazily, he stood up from his bed and decided to look at himself in the mirror, washing his face and taking a moment to see the collateral damage caused by the bomb. There were a few bruises and cuts on his skin, but huge purple marks on his shoulder, which he dislocated. It still hurts, but it’s enough to keep him in the real world. He’s still alive.

“Morning, princess” you greeted him in his kitchen. “I made breakfast”

“You shouldn’t worry about that, y’know?” Leon says, leaning against his cabinet.

“Too late for that. Now is my job to worry about ya” you said, opening the cabinet above your head on tiptoe, which made him smirk. “Are you feeling better?”

“Yeah, I guess so” he says, nodding his head and helping you get the cornflakes. “Thank you… for sticking up with me last night”

“You know I care about you, right? Since day one” you glance at him with a warm smile. “I really do”

“I care about you, too” Leon blushes slightly. “More than I can tell”

You know Leon pretty well at this point and you know he has trouble speaking of his feelings. You know he can’t express himself properly, and you ain’t stupid. You know someone has hurt him before and you understand why he is the way he is. Fortunately, you are very patient, and that’s enough for now, because you don’t mind giving him time and space.

“I can look at your wounds; maybe I can help” you offered, finishing preparing the breakfast.

“This means I finally earned your secrets?” Leon asks, a small smile on his lips, as he references the conversation you had with him a few months ago.

“You surely did." You nodded, smiling. “Let’s eat first, then I’ll take a look at it”

Leon seemed to enjoy the breakfast you made for him, and, for the first time since you two met, he genuinely seemed happy. However, you knew deep inside he was trying and fighting hard to hide his true feelings; losing his squad certainly shattered him inside, and caused more damage to him than you could ever imagine.

Leon is a master when it comes to hiding his feelings. All over the years, Leon had built around himself an impenetrable shell, not allowing anyone to get closer, and all of that because he is scared of being hurt again. However, if the explosion never happened, if his men never died the way they did, Leon wouldn’t be pretending he’s fine when you know he’s not. The damage is so intense that you’re afraid he won’t recover. It’ll always be there with him, rotting inside him.

You weren’t expecting so many wounds all at once, but when he took off his shirt and you saw his bruised skin, you took a deep breath. He had so many marks, so many stories. You wanted to ask, you wanted to know, but Leon wasn’t ready to share it yet.

“I got this one back in Raccoon City” Leon quietly says, pointing to the scar on his left shoulder. “I got shot”

“How did this happen?” you decided to ask him as you gently cleaned a few cuts he had.

“I was helping a woman named Ada Wong to get a sample of G-Virus, and only a scientist named Annette Birkin had this sample. We were trying to find her and, when we did, she started to shoot Ada. I jumped in front of her, that’s why I got shot” Leon sighs, recalling the events that happened in the sewers.

“This Ada seems very important to you” you smiled at him, cleaning the other cut he had on his neck.

“She was, but it was a long time ago” Leon avoids your gaze. “Not anymore”

“She was the one that hurt you?” you ask him very carefully.

Leon didn’t answer, but his silence speaks for himself. You can see the extension of the damage and how Leon still struggles to deal with whatever happened between him and Ada. He stays silent, maybe trying to understand how his life turned into this mess. Then, he starts to count every time he was betrayed before until this very moment. His blue irises meet yours and all he feels is… peace. There’s no inner storms inside him, he feels completely at ease.

“If I ask you a favor…” Leon suddenly says, changing the conversation.

“What do you need?” you ask him without hesitation.

“Could you come with me to the morgue? There’s something I need to do” Leon sighs, preparing himself for what’s about to happen.

“Of course. I’ll tell my parents I’ll go to the store later” you nodded, quickly picking up your phone to text them.

Leon partially felt guilty, but you were so willing to go with him that he changed his mind after you helped him dress himself — the way he dislocated his shoulder still hurts and he has difficulty with it. You drove to the morgue and judging by the interior of the building, you found out Leon was some sort of agent working for the government. You were able to read the name of the organization. Division of Security Operations.

“So you’re a badass agent, huh?” you ask with enthusiasm as you walk next to him.

“I wouldn’t say I’m a badass” Leon chuckles, still feeling tense.

“Well, if you put your neck at stake to save your country, then you’re definitely a badass” you added, giving him a warm smile.

When you both stepped inside the morgue, he reached out for your hand, seeking any support you could give him. The back wall was a box-shaped cold storage room, and a row of dissecting tables lined the spacious room. And on those dissecting tables were numerous body bags. It's a body bag with the DSO logo on it. Do they really need a logo even on something like this? Irony floated within Leon's chest. Are they planning to sell products with the logo on them, like DSO-branded body bags, DSO-logoed cigarette cases, DSO-logoed pass cases...?

He walked between the body bags to the sound of his boots. Unlike normal bodies, the victims of b.o.w - related incidents were usually sent for examination to specialized research institutions. Although this time the cause of death was due to a bomb, not a zombie attack, the instruction from above was to send the bodies to various laboratories, so they followed suit. This DSO branch’s mortuary was a relay point for passing the bodies from the scene to the laboratory, like a baton in a relay race. It wasn’t easy to simply bury them in a graveyard. The morgue itself wasn’t scary, but the corpses were scary because they stimulated the imagination.

“Would they suddenly start moving? Would I end up like this too?” Leon thinks to himself a little bit loud, enough for you to hear him.

“You won’t” you whispered, squeezing his hand to let him know you were there.

Watching the corpses closely would cause a moment where the elongated shadows would appear like monsters. However, that was before Raccoon City. He had seen too many moments where the dead came back to life.

“I’m not scared of the mortuary anymore; recently, I’ve been thinking about it a lot” Leon frowned as he moved towards the back while swirling his thoughts. He thought he heard a sound from there minutes before.

“What do you mean?” you ask him with curiosity as he approaches one of the bags.

“I was constantly thinking about death and ending everything. I was depressed and thought I had no hope left” Leon confessed, his eyes locked on the body bags in front of him. “But now… I don’t think about that anymore”

He glances at you, finally. Slowly, his eyes meet your hand while you’re holding him and there’s a small smile on his lips, then his blue irises find yours again.

“I used to be scared of the morgue… but coming here with you… is something else” Leon says next. “I couldn’t do this alone”

“I’m glad I can help” you said to him with your usual kindness.

But he stops and turns his attention back to the body bags and sighs. His entire demeanor changed and suddenly, he found himself fighting hard to keep doing this. He needed that. He owed his men at least this final goodbye.

“What kind of adult did I want to become when I was a child?” Leon thinks to himself as he approached one of the body bags.

The zipper was slightly open, and the body bag seemed like it was about to move any moment. It’s common for something that seems like it’s about to move to actually move.

Leon carelessly closed the zipper. Was it because of the sharp sound that, suddenly, another body bag bounced behind him? Inside the body bag, the zombie was wiggling and struggling. It seemed unhappy, as if it had been woken up from a deep sleep by force. Leon pulled out his gun from his holster and squeezed the trigger.

“What kind of adult did I want to become? I definitely didn’t want a life like this”

V. ACCEPTANCE

After everything that happened with his squad, Leon knew he needed time off of his office. Decided to get his mind off everything and take a break, Leon chose the Rocky Mountains in Colorado as his destination. Instead of going there alone, he thought it would be good to spend more time with you, mostly because he felt safe around you and due to the nature of his job and everything he saw, he needed to feel that safety only you provided him.

You had to explain to your parents why you would be going on a vacation, but they understood with no problems; they didn’t know about Leon because you were fearing some trouble because of the age gap, so you felt they weren’t exactly ready to meet him. How could you explain to them you were apparently dating a man eleven years older than you? It would be one hell of a surprise.

It was 9 a.m. in the mountainous area near Rocky Mountain National Park, located in northern Colorado. The national park was about a two-hour drive from the state capital, Denver. Along the way, there were several viewpoints where numerous travelers parked their cars to enjoy the scenic beauty. Even in the mountainous region of the Rockies, the mountains around this area were not exceptionally high. They were just before the tree line, covered with spruce and fir trees on the subalpine slopes. The forest appeared like a beautifully groomed brush, while wildflowers bloomed modestly, sheltered by large rocks.

“This place is incredible” you sound mesmerized by the incredible view from the hotel.

“You haven’t been in places like this before?” Leon asks you with curiosity.

“I barely leave my house” you chuckle, leaving your bag on the bed. “I just work at my parent’s store and go to college”

“It feels like I’m dating a baby” Leon chuckles, also leaving his bag next to yours.

“We’re dating, huh?” you teased, taking off your sneakers.

“Yeah, we are” Leon nods his head, smiling. “I know I haven’t officially asked you, but I’m too old for that”

“It’s fine, old man. I’m just messing with you” you said, playing with his fingers.

“Old man? Now I’m offended” Leon teases back, smiling.

“You said it first” you replied to him, your hands reaching his brown hair. “By the way… I have something for you”

Leon glanced at you, frowning. The mischievous smile on your lips immediately told him you were planning something. He sat up on the bed and kept his eyes fixed on you, waiting patiently for whatever you were about to do.

“I got you a birthday present” you said with enthusiasm, catching him by surprise. “I know I’m a few days late, but I wanted to give you something for your 37th birthday”

“You didn’t have to” Leon whispered in shock as you gave him the small box.

He unwrapped the present you gave him and found a beautiful dagger, silver and shining, also pretty sharp. Leon knew immediately that you probably paid a lot on that and he felt bad. He took a deep breath and glanced at you.

“This was very expensive. You shouldn’t waste your money with me like that” Leon says to you.

“It’s a gift. You can’t give it back” you said to him, a hint of playfulness in your voice as you insisted for him to keep it.

“That’s not fair” Leon complains, laughing softly.

“It’s pretty fair to me, though” you said to him, smirking. “It’s just a dagger, not a diamond or something related. I know your job is kind of dangerous and you might need it”

“Okay, you win. I’ll take it” Leon sighs in defeat. “About my job… I know I haven’t been extremely open about it, but…”

“It’s okay, I don’t want you to feel forced to share this with me if you don’t feel ready” you stopped him before he could finish his sentence.

“I wish I could be more open to you” Leon glanced at his hands, feeling bad because of that.

“Start simple and small. You don’t have to tell me absolutely everything at once” you placed your hand on his shoulder, petting him.

“Simple and small? How could I do that?” Leon frowned at the idea. He always thought it was impossible to open up about his trauma.

You pondered for a few moments, thinking about a way to help him talk about his issues in a positive way.

“Start with something like… why don't you like dogs?” you suggested. A while ago you noticed Leon had a certain aversion to dogs.

“I… um… I was attacked by dogs in Raccoon City. They weren’t common dogs, they were infected, something like that” Leon found himself surprised by the way he spoke about this issue so easily. “Then, at Spain, I had a few encounters with wolves also infected with a parasite, monstrous things”

“See? That one was pretty easy” you said, encouraging him to keep talking. “Wanna try to say something else?”

Leon thought about your question for minutes; inside his head, everything that has happened to him was like an endless movie. The trauma, the pain and the events that seem to be haunting him to this day. It was hard to pick one, but then, he reminds himself of your words of being simple and small. He takes a deep breath and quietly, he convinces himself that he can do this.

“Back at Raccoon City, it was my first day at the force and I was 21 at the time” Leon starts, his eyes focused on something else. “I was late, but I think that’s why I’m still alive”

While he was telling you the horrors he saw, you gently placed your hand on his, to let him know you’re there for him. It was a simple and kind gesture, but for him, it meant the world. Leon was only familiar with danger and brutality, so having you by his side providing comfort was enough to penetrate the depth of his former persona. It was enough to rescue the rookie cop buried inside those walls.

“After that night… everything changed. I’m here because of what I did to survive and I’m not exactly proud of it. I can’t stop blaming myself for my past actions, but…” Leon suddenly stops, taking another deep breath.

“You can’t control everything around you, Leon. And not everything that happens to us is our fault. You couldn’t know you were going to be stalked and nearly killed on your first day… you didn't know that there was a virus outbreak in Raccoon City that night…” you said to him, placing your hand on his shoulder. “You need to understand that this isn’t your baggage to carry. What happened that day wasn’t your fault”

Leon had your words playing on repeat inside his head. Even though he was early in the morning drinking his sorrows away, he was still thinking about what you said. He also felt partially guilty for leaving you asleep in the bed while he was drinking, but the other part of him told you knew him pretty well and you wouldn’t be judging him for this. His head was a roller coaster and at this very moment, he wasn’t at the top.

Leon sat on the first floor of a lodge-style hotel in the rural town. The hotel was two stories tall, made of reinforced concrete, but designed to resemble traditional log construction. There was only one waiter and one chef, making it far from a trendy establishment — a rather run-down place. He was having breakfast in the first-floor restaurant. Though the restaurant wasn't popular, the food was decent. Approaching footsteps came from behind him — two sets of them.

"--To come fully armed to such a peaceful town," Leon said without turning around.

"Leon S. Kennedy, the ace of the DSO, a special agent organization directly under the President of the United States," a voice replied.

Finally, he turned around to see Chris Redfield and Rebecca Chambers standing there.

"Chris and... oh, the renowned expert in biohazard research, Professor Rebecca Chambers. What do you want?" he asked.

"It's work. Cooperate," Chris said in an uncompromising tone.

Chris and Rebecca sat across from him. And it was noticeable that he wore an annoyed expression.

"I'm on vacation."

"...In the past, while protecting the President's daughter, Ashley Graham, you fought and annihilated the cult group Los Illuminados. They were using special bio-organic weapons called Plagas," Chris said.

"I've forgotten about that old stuff," Leon replied simply.

"Do you plan on loafing around in this town for another week?" Chris asked.

"I don't know what will happen in the future," Leon retorted.

"Beer, please," Rebecca chuckled at the reference to an old movie, while Chris wore an unamused expression.

Leon called over a passing waitress with a casual wave to place his order, but Chris interrupted him.

"Cancel the beer."

"No, it's not canceled."

“Come on… what the fuck?!”

"I don't need any more alcohol."

"Cut it out. What's going on?"

"That's my line."

The waitress looked between the two of them suspiciously and before walking away. Eventually, Leon pulled out a flask from his back pocket and took a swig as a substitute for the additional order that couldn't be fulfilled.

"You–!" Chris leaned forward.

"Enough, both of you," Rebecca interjected. "--Leon. We apologize for disturbing your vacation. However, we need the information you possess," Rebecca said.

Finally, Leon showed a willingness to listen.

"...What's the situation?" he asked.

Chris and Rebecca had to explain to him what happened earlier at the university. The case was simple. Glenn Arias was a new threat and they needed to stop him at all costs. However, they didn’t know how Leon was suffering inside; they couldn’t know about the recent events. Leon wearily intertwines his gestures and continues,

"Just before I took my vacation... I was involved in a DSO mission in Bethesda to apprehend a treacherous senator who was selling internal information to a bioterrorist organization."

The disgusted irritation was evident in his movements, his expression, and his voice.

"You know..." Leon begins. "Here's the thing: the informant we used betrayed us. We fell into a trap instead. A massive explosion killed many of my colleagues... and then there was the incident with the resurrection of the corpses you guys were involved in... It's all a mess,"

Leon explains, letting out a heavy sigh. It's a sigh that escapes unintentionally, like a burden he carries.

"I had planned to become a police officer in Raccoon City. It was my dream job. But on my first day, there was a massive zombie outbreak, and from there... it never stopped," Leon pauses and shakes his head. "I've been fighting this whole time. There's no end in sight, and it only keeps getting worse. Have I been living just to fight zombies and the people who create them?"

"What are you trying to say? That you don't want to cooperate with us?" Chris asks.

"It's not that..." Leon's tone is uncertain, "Well, maybe it is."

With a hesitant tone, Leon continues

“What exactly is our goal? How far do we have to run? Do we have to keep running endlessly? The villains keep coming, one after another, while the good people keep dying. Maybe it's better to lose our minds."

Then, Chris found himself forced to explain to Leon what they were facing. He showed pictures of Cathy White, the agent that was turned into a bio-weapon. And worse, her son she killed. He showed the photos taken during the autopsy and how Glenn turned people into something else purely because of power.

"Killing him is the goal," Chris declares.

"That's only your goal, not mine," Leon retorts, his voice filled with resentment.

Tension fills the air between them once again.

"Hey," Rebecca interrupts, breaking the silence just as she did before. "So, Leon, you're exhausted," Rebecca points at Leon and then gestures to Chris. "And Chris, you're frustrated. There's one thing both tired people and irritable people have in common."

"What do we have in common?" Chris asks in response.

They both look at each other with a wide-eyed grin.

"You only think about yourselves," Rebecca replies.

"I–" Chris tries to interject, but Rebecca continues.

"Chris, all you talk about is wanting to kill Glenn Arias. After helping me, you didn't say a single word mourning the sacrifices of our colleagues. Leon, you're acting like a college student in their moratorium period. People get tired of running. But if we stop running, more people will lose their lives."

Rebecca takes out a trigger-activated needleless syringe from her small bag. In front of the bewildered duo, she abruptly presses the syringe against her left forearm and pulls the trigger, causing her blood to collect in the test tube attached to the syringe.

"I'll tell you something important. We're already infected," she says.

"What?" Leon's expression tightens in response.

Rebecca continues speaking in a tone reminiscent of a teacher addressing a poor student.

"The truth is, it's difficult to estimate just how many people have been infected by Arias' new virus. The problem is, we don't know the identity of the trigger that activates it."

As she speaks, Rebecca removes the test tube from the syringe and seals it with a cap.

"The virus is activated by something only Arias knows. When that happens, the dead rise, and living humans become bio-weapons."

Rebecca glances lightly at Leon.

"If things continue like this, this city will eventually become a living hell. There won't be any safe places."

Leon remains silent, averting his gaze.

"Just so you know, a prototype of the antivirus has been developed," Rebecca says. "It actually worked on me. However, the effectiveness of the antivirus is unstable without knowing the conditions for the activation of Arias' virus. When to administer it and how long it remains effective..."

Rebecca then places the sealed test tube into a small protective case and puts it on the table.

"My blood should provide valuable data. If I die, make sure it reaches a reputable research institution that you can trust."

"You're not in danger. We'll protect you," Chris says firmly.

"What?" Leon asks, confused.

"It seems like you're misunderstanding, BSAA soldier," Rebecca lightly dismisses Chris's assumption.

There’s a slight smirk on Leon’s lips as he hears that.

"The forefront of pandemic response is not the BSAA, but the research field. How many doctors and colleagues do you think I've seen die in conflict-ridden African countries or small Middle Eastern nations used as testing grounds for bio-weapons?" Rebecca questions.

Chris tries to say something in response, but his voice gets stuck in his throat, and only faint breaths escape.

"After I left the team, you two might have fought against plenty of mad scientists. But science can only be countered with science. Unless benevolent technology advances, we will never have a chance of winning. We fight not only for ourselves but for others. Have you both understood at least a little of what I'm saying?" Rebecca asks.

She stands up and adds, "Cool your heads," before leaving her seat.

"She's a great woman," Leon comments.

"We can't handle it on our own," Chris remarks, watching Rebecca leave, and he and Leon exchanged a wry smile.

And then, here it comes. The urge to talk about what happened one year ago.

"Leon, China was tough," Chris says, referring to that incident.

"Yeah, it was like a zombie version of Black Hawk Down." he nods in response.

"At that time, I wanted to quit the BSAA so badly," Chris admits, surprising Leon, "After getting involved with Umbrella, I witnessed too many deaths. We..."

Chris trails off. His expression was heavy, as if lead had settled in the depths of his heart. Then Chris realized: Why does it make me so angry to see him like this? He was too much like his old self.

"It makes you want to quit... makes me want to quit," Chris says, emphasizing his point. Leon falls into silence. And Chris delivers the final blow. "But, the moment we quit, all of our subordinates and friends will have died in vain. We are the survivors of Raccoon City. We carry that burden."

Chris falls silent, and the air becomes still. The waitress looks annoyed by the silence. For a few moments, there’s nothing but the said silence.

"Leon, I always thought you were a cheerful guy no matter what," Chris breaks the silence.

"No one is like that," Leon replies, “Well… I’m not. I've always been a stress-tolerant guy. I've been able to do what I've done because of it. But now look back on it. In Tall Oaks, I killed the president.”

"Technically, you had to save the President infected with the virus," Chris quickly adds, trying to provide some context.

“But,” Leon shakes his head, "But the fact remains that I pulled the trigger, I shot him, and I was even suspected of assassinating the President afterward. Although I managed to clear my name, the mastermind behind that incident turned out to be the President's aide. The DSO was once called the 'Sword of the President,' but now it sounds ironically fitting."

Chris remains silent, attentively listening to Leon's words.

"Chris," Leon continues. "I've returned to active duty, but every time I face the new President, I feel anxious. I can sense his unease as well. The President's aide had sold his soul to B.O.W. terrorism. Who's next? The Secretary of Defense? The Vice President? What's become of the foundation that supports the soldiers in the field? They keep using us, while the higher-ups continue to flounder, grow bloated... They only think about shifting blame onto others."

He pauses for a moment. There’s so much pain.

Leon furrows his brow and lowers his voice. "Perhaps the reason entities like Umbrella persist is that our society harbors a fundamental evil... I can't help but feel that way now."

Even agreeing with this stupid mission, Leon can’t go without saying goodbye. He feels guilty, but the moment he sees you, everything feels completely right. He sat at the bed, watching you perfectly asleep, imagining what kind of dreams you were having. Leon sighs and shakes his head.

“Hey, sweetheart” Leon says when he sees you waking up.

“Hi” you whisper, rubbing your eyes.

“Listen… something happened and my colleagues need me. Will you be okay here?” he asks you, his thumb trailing your cheek.

“Will you come back?” you ask him, sounding a little groggy.

“And leave my baby girl here all alone? Of course I’ll come back” he smiles sweetly at you.

“Ok… I’ll be here” you nodded your head, closing your eyes to go back to sleep.

Something about you made him see, for the first time, the bright side of things. Maybe it was the fact that you were younger than him, and also the fact that you were full of energy - he was just an old and bitter man. But, hey, he’s learning how to cope with every shit that has happened to him.

Before you, Leon was ready to die.

He was ready to embrace death, he already had made peace with his inner demons. But everything changed when you came into his life. Suddenly, he thought he could live and find happiness and death wasn’t in his thoughts anymore. It was like you were able to bring him back from his darkness. He wasn’t rotting inside. You were able to rescue him from himself and return the light he needed.

But if he thought he wasn’t close to death, he was wrong. Leon never thought he would face something like Glenn Arias and come close to death, but he had his job to do. Chris needed his help and Leon finally found closure to something that was weighing on his head; the death of his squad wasn’t his fault and he found the real culprit. He found the peace he was desperately looking for. And he was able to see another sunrise and come back to you.

It was a repetitive cycle. Leon recently started to wonder if anything he did was futile. That's why he took a vacation and drowned his sorrows in alcohol. It was a kind of protest, perhaps. A protest against the grand concepts of this world and destiny. A statement of "I’m not going on like this forever, I’m not going to do it," or something of that sort. But fate was cruel. In the end, human life rarely goes well by one's own choices. Perhaps humans are merely chosen by fate without their consent. Yet, Leon now felt that it was okay like that. Being chosen doesn't make him a hero by default. He becomes a hero reluctantly because he was chosen. And that's fine.

The merged form approached Leon with an eerie growl, swinging its massive fist. Leon leaped back to dodge it, and the merged form's punch shattered one of the spires on the rooftop into tiny fragments. It had the destructive power of a construction hammer, with each strike resembling the impact of a tank cannon round. Leon intentionally slid and jumped into the merged form's feet, thinking that at such a large size, close range might become a blind spot. He positioned himself beneath the massive body, lying on his back and firing his handgun. The shots were practically point-blank, but they were still deflected by the hardened muscles and exoskeleton.

"Doesn't matter," Leon muttered involuntarily. "I'll do whatever it takes, even if it's futile. Today's a good day to die anyway."

The merged form kicked out.

The enemy's movements were deceptively swift, and Leon was sent flying as if hit by a car. His body tumbled through the air until it finally collided with a gargoyle statue, coming to a stop. The impact was so intense that his breath nearly ceased. However, the merged form continued its pursuit. It threw a straight punch, a blow that would surely result in instant death if landed, but Leon managed to evade it with a jump. Not only did he dodge it, but in mid-air, Leon twisted his body and unleashed a spinning kick. His boot-clad foot connected with the grotesque face of the merged form.

Whether it would have any effect or not didn't matter. This strike was my will. Of course, a kick from a mere human wouldn't have any effect. The merged form retaliated with its opposite hand, grabbing hold of Leon.

"Gah!" A groan escaped Leon's throat involuntarily. The massive fist tightened around him like a vice, and within a few seconds, he felt himself being crushed like a tomato.

"Leon!" Chris emerged from the penthouse.

In his fading consciousness, Leon thought about you. The way you smiled whenever you were with him and the sweet perfume you love to use. The way your hands embrace him at night, helping him sleep safely, without any nightmares to harm him. And then, he doesn’t want to die anymore. Please, God, don’t let me die this way.

Chris picked up the fully automatic handgun that Arias had dropped along the way and unleashed a barrage of bullets at the merged form. For a brief moment, it seemed like the merged form's focus shifted, and its grip loosened slightly, but that was all.

Was my life meant to end here, crushed by this grotesque monster? Leon wondered, his pessimism threatens to shatter him. Leon wasn't the type to easily get this depressed or overthink things too much. Still, he felt more than a little exhausted.

What kind of adult did I want to become when I was a child? I never imagined I would be burdened with the stigma of assassinating a president. At least, I didn't want a life like this ― It doesn't matter what I want. There's no such thing as a person who can live the life they desire. Arias must have felt the same way. In the end…

VI. ABSOLUTION

When he came back, you noticed something inside him had changed.

After the fight with Arias, Leon noticed that life was much more than death, darkness and depression. At least, he started to think like that when he almost got killed. And his only thought was coming back to you. No, he couldn’t die like that and leave you alone. His arm was injured, but he was alive. And he was back.

“What happened to your arm?” you asked him when you saw him entering the room.

“Remember that day in the morgue when you told me I was a badass government agent?” Leon asks you back, sitting on the bed next to you.

“Yep, I do” you nodded, starting to massage his tense muscles.

“Well… I’m not this kind of agent. I work under the president’s orders. I fight bioweapons for a living… since that hell in Raccoon City” Leon sighs, finally opening about his job.

“Bioweapons? Like zombies and shit?” you ask him with curiosity.

“Worse than zombies, but yes” Leon nodded with a slight smirk. “It’s dangerous, and this time I nearly got killed… thing is, my job requires a lot of my time, it forces me to not be around for God knows how long. It scares me because I don’t know if you can live this chaotic life with me…”

“Wait, wait, wait… slow down” you held his hand and squeezed it softly. “Everyone deserves a second chance in life, Leon. You were alone for too much time and I don’t mind if you need to go somewhere else to fight bioweapons. If this means I get to see these pretty eyes of yours and this sweet smile every time you come home… I’m willing to live this chaotic life with you”

Leon couldn’t believe your words. After being deprived of something so human and getting used to it, Leon felt he was about to explode. It was too much for him to handle. At this point, he knew perfectly he was experiencing anxiety. But it was a good one.

“I don’t want you to get hurt. If we do this, I’m gonna get you wrapped up in something bad someday… and I’ll never forgive myself if this happens” Leon tells you, sounding extremely worried.

“I know you won’t let anything bad happen to me. And besides, I can take care of myself. I made self defense classes” you laugh sweetly, a symphony to his ears.

“Are you sure?” Leon asks, and those big puppy eyes of his wanting nothing but assurance.

“Honey, if this wasn’t true, I wouldn’t be here” you chuckled, kissing his forehead.

After what happened, you decided to introduce Leon to your family as your boyfriend. But before that, you convinced him he needed to improve a little. Getting rid of the alcohol was the first step. He started to see a therapist and work harder on his issues, which influenced a lot of your relationship. He was more happy and willing to do things he and you both liked. One year after that incident with his squad being killed and his mission with his friends, you noticed he was ready to meet your parents.

“I’m nervous” Leon tells you when you both were entering your home.

“Why? It’s not like we’ve been dating secretly for almost three years. Besides, they’ll think you’re cute, don’t worry” you giggled at him.

“I’m not so sure about that” he muttered, following you inside your parents place.

You could clearly tell how anxious he was. However, he always felt at ease on your side, and it was like you had the power to make him relax, like nothing could harm him and the world was finally at peace. When you stepped inside the house with Leon right behind you for a Christmas dinner, your parents were already expecting both of you.

“Mom, dad… this is Leon. The guy I was talking about” you introduced him to your parents with certain expectations.

“You clearly got my taste for man” Leon heard your mom whispering to you, which made his cheeks turn red.

“So… um… how long are you two hanging out?” your dad asked and you glanced quickly at Leon.

“Three years, I guess. We met at the store” you tell your parents. “I didn’t tell you before because Leon has a busy schedule. He’s not always in town, so…”

“Well, moonpie, if you’re happy, we’re happy too” your mom says with a gracious smile on her lips.

Leon wasn’t expecting to be so welcomed into your family, but the fact that your parents treated him so kindly melted his heart. He got himself thinking about the dinner for at least one week, mostly because part of him was still thinking it was weird to receive so much kindness and affection, especially coming from a real family. He wasn’t expecting to be playing cards with your dad while you and your mom were in the kitching talking about girl’s stuff, but it was enough to make him see he made the right choice. That it was okay for him to finally experience love.

“I like your light brown hair now that you finally stopped dying it” you said, sitting between his legs in the living room.

“My emo era is over” he chuckles sweetly, like a melody.

“May it rest in peace” you made the signal of the cross. “

“Changing the subject, tomorrow I gotta go to San Francisco. Work stuff” he says to you, softly kissing your neck.

“Yeah? Am I getting some gift?” you whisper, feeling the shivers down your spine with his lips against your skin.

“Do I ever go on a mission and come back empty handed?” Leon asks you, his soft lips pressing more against your neck and you can feel him softly biting you.

The thing is, Leon is like a porcelain doll. He needs to be treated with softness and kindness, because deep down, he is vulnerable. The way his lips met your skin was a clear sign that he was ready for you. He was finally ready to be yours. However, loving Leon also needed patience, and after three years, you could tell he wanted that too.

“Do you want to do this before you leave, handsome?” you ask him teasingly, holding his hands as he keeps kissing your neck.

“Yes, I do,” he nods, almost moaning in your ear.

He gently took you to his bedroom, the place was almost a sanctuary for him. He laid you down on his bed and removed his shirt, and this time, he didn’t seem ashamed of himself. You stood up from his bed and sat him on the edge, your hands trailing down his skin like he was a roller coaster. He closed his eyes, his breath soft and calm, although he anticipated what was about to happen. Leon craved for you.

“I’ll take care of you” you whispered, leaving soft kisses across his neck and chest.

You sat gently between his legs, your sweet and soft fingers removing his pants and reaching his already hardened cock. He sat there, observing you with those big and blue puppy eyes, like he was savoring your image. When you took all his length inside your mouth and gently started to suck him, Leon felt he was in heaven. It felt so good, so powerful.

Tears started to fall from his eyes and he cried. Not because you were hurting him, dear lord, of course not! It was because he finally felt that he deserved to be loved. Your tongue did an amazing job on his cock and when he came, he felt his body at ease. Leon moaned with the sudden sensation, it was stronger than he last remembered. But it was because of you.

“I love you” he says when you touch his face, wiping his tears.

Loving Leon needed patience, you knew that already.

However, living with him brought new challenges that you weren’t expecting at all. He would be gone for weeks, then he comes back out of nowhere. He always forgets to send you a message to let you know he’s coming back, but that’s okay, because his lack of patience to deal with technology amuses you. He always sends an emoji out of context, which makes you laugh and you find it very cute when he gets disappointed for misunderstanding those little and yellow faces. He’s getting there, don’t worry about that.

When he’s at home, things turn out differently. He always helps you with the chores, likes to tease you whenever you’re cooking his favorite meal and at the end of the day, you two are together on the couch watching some silly movie while he complains about it and softly scratches your leg. Sharing a domestic life was something he never thought he would have, not after everything he went through alone.

Now that he's back from whatever he did in San Francisco, you have another job to do. Tend to his injuries. It’s a small sacrifice to pay whenever he comes back hurt; this time he has purple marks all over his body and face. You don’t ask what on earth happened, because you know he can’t really give details, but at least he’s safe and sound with you again.

“Stop moving, old man!” you tell him, trying to clean a small cut he had on his neck.

“That hurts,” Leon replied back, flinching slightly.

“I know, but someone has to clean it” you rolled your eyes, applying a Barbie band-aid on his neck.

“Please, don’t tell me I got the Barbie thing on my neck” Leon closes his eyes, taking a deep breath.

“Next time I’ll get you a cat one” you wink playfully at him.

After so many death experiences and the inner wish of being dead, he’s glad that he found the absolution that he always wanted. He looks at you with amusement, part of him finds it hard to believe that he’s so lucky to have you, but the other part is glad that you are real and you love him for who he really is. You took every damaged part of him and loved with such intensity that it was enough to bring him back from that dark place he was at. He forgave himself, allowed his soul to heal and to be loved. Life had gifted him with the second chance to live, made him see the beautiful things again. You took him in when he was on the lower part of his life, and your love brought him back. He knows he’s getting older, but he doesn’t mind spending his days with you, because you are the only thing in his life that makes sense.

And he’s fine with that.

823 notes · View notes

krirebr · 3 months

Text

Caught Up in Your Trap

Pairing: dark!Andy Barber x f!reader

Word Count: 5.4k

Summary: You spend your first day in your new home. Part of the Trapped AU.

Warnings: Dark elements, kidnapping, human trafficking, drugging, training, punishment, isolation, injury, forced intimacy - Just trust me when I say that this is dark. All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Masterlist

A/N: Oh my god, you guys. Uh, happy sin day, I guess?? 🤣 Because I am apparently incapable of just leaving a one-shot alone, this is a prequel to I Don't Want a Lot for Christmas spurred by some unhinged 4 AM thots. It is definitely the darkest thing I've written so far. Whoops.

Big thanks as always to @paperweight91 who was not only the fantastic sounding board she always is, and let me ramble on about all my research into furnaces of all things but also helped me figure out the title for both this fic and the greater AU it's now a part of (🤦🏻‍♀️ Seriously, Kris, just stop!). Hat tip to Bruce Springsteen for both, as well. I'm sure he'd be thrilled. 😂

Any comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think will be greatly appreciated. Even if it's just screeching at me. As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜

Andy pulled up at the address he’d been given, more surprised than he should have been that it was an abandoned warehouse. Of course, this sort of deal would be completed there. He should have known from the sorts of channels he’d had to go through to set it up. Connections left over from his days in the DA’s office. Well, that wasn’t the side of the law he was on anymore.

He walked into the large open space that made up most of the building to find a man standing in the middle of a few folding chairs. He had a neatly trimmed mustache and was wearing sharp but tight clothing. He wasn’t who caught Andy’s attention, though. No, that was you, slumped over in one of the chairs, wearing the clothes you must have been taken in. Even like this, he could tell your pictures hadn’t done you justice. You were absolutely perfect. Or you would be, once he was done.

“Barber!” the man called out, a satisfied smirk raising his mustache. “How nice of you to join us!”

“Hansen,” Andy answered evenly. He nodded at you, “She ok?”

“Oh, she’s fine. Just on enough horse tranqs to move her across the country without her realizing it. She’ll only be out for another day or so.”

Andy walked over to you. “I’m sure you don’t mind if I check for myself. With the amount of money I’m paying you.” Hansen gestured for him to go ahead, so he placed a gentle hand on the pulse in your neck, pleased to feel that it was strong and steady. He took a step back and opened the untraceable banking app on his phone. He clicked the transfer button, moving an ungodly amount of money from his numbered account in the Caymans to the account Lloyd had given him. “Alright,” he said, “the money’s in your account.”

The other man snapped his fingers and someone appeared out of the shadows, holding a tablet. “And I’m sure you don’t mind,” Hansen said as the new man tapped his screen, “if I check for myself. With the amount of work I’ve done for you.”

They all waited in tense silence for the confirmation of the transfer to come through. Andy couldn’t take his eyes off you, eager to finally get you home. After everything he’d been through, this was what he deserved. The perfect wife, the perfect family, the perfect life. And he was going to do it right this time, taking full control until he had exactly what he wanted. Nothing left to chance. It was costing him a pretty penny, but it was worth it.

The man with the tablet nodded at Hansen, who clapped his hands together. “Alright!” he said. “Let’s get this done. My men will get her settled in your car while we finish up.” Two more men came out from the edge of the room and started to put their hands on you. Andy couldn’t help the growl that came out of him. Hansen laughed. “Don’t worry, Mr. ADA, they won’t hurt your precious new wife. You have my word.”

Andy gave a hesitant nod, as they carried you out of the warehouse, clicking the unlock button on his car fob so that they could get you settled. He didn’t take his eyes off you until you were gone.

Hansen reached down and picked up a thick folder. “Everything you’ll need is in here. Everything for her new identity, all in order, all immaculate. Marriage license. Anything from her old life you might need. Although I’d get what you need from those quickly and then burn them.”

Andy took the folder and briefly paged through it. New birth certificate, social security card, IDs, passport. Everything he’d need to start your new life. He put the folder in his briefcase. “Thank you. Anything else?”

Hansen smirked again. “Eager to get started?” He leered in the direction you’d disappeared. “Can’t say I blame you.”

Andy cleared his throat, not appreciating the way Hansen was talking about what was his. “Yes, I would like to get us both home. Are we done here?”

“Sure sure. You have a good time now,” he smirked.

Andy gave him a curt nod and then exited in the direction Hansen’s men had taken you. There was no sign of them by his car, but you were laid out across the backseat. He opened the door and leaned in to brush a gentle finger across your cheek. He wouldn’t be able to relax until you were secured inside his home. It was so close now.

This wasn’t your room. You’d woken up some time ago (you couldn’t say how long ago exactly. There were no clocks, no windows) in the most comfortable bed you’d ever felt. You thought it might swallow you up, it was so soft. Luxurious. The whole room was that way. Beautiful. Rich. You were dressed in a satin nightgown that wasn’t at all like anything you owned. You tried very hard not to think about the fact that someone must have changed you. The door was locked from the outside, a small keypad right under the doorknob. You tried banging on the door. Yelling for someone. Nothing. A quick exploration of the room hadn’t yielded anything either – the two other doors were also locked, a dresser held only men’s clothing. So you’d spent the last who knows how long just laying in the bed, trying not to panic or cry. You weren’t very successful at either.

The most disturbing thing you’d discovered since you’d woken up here was the set of rings on your left hand. One featured a large diamond, the other was a simpler band filled with comparatively tiny diamonds. The bands were fused together like you remembered your mom’s engagement and wedding rings being. It took a long time to normalize your breathing after that discovery.

Just as you were about to drift asleep again, for want of anything else to do, you heard a few soft beeps, the lock click, and the doorknob move. You leaped up and huddled in the far corner of the room between the wall and the bed, holding a pillow in front of you. There was nothing else in the room to use to defend yourself. Even the lamps were bolted down – you’d checked.

The door slowly opened and a man walked in. He was tall, over 6 feet, and broad. He had dark, soft-looking hair, and a well-kept beard. He wore a gray cotton tee and jeans. If your adrenaline hadn’t been spiking, you would have found him so handsome. But as it was, you pushed yourself further into the corner.

He was carrying a tray, which he set down on one of the nightstands. From your vantage point, you could see a glass of water and a bowl. You weren’t feeling inclined to take anything from this man.

Your eyes cautiously tracked him as he came around to the foot of the bed. “How are you feeling?” he asked, his voice deep but gentle.

You didn’t say anything, just kept watching him. He leveled you with a stern look that sent a chill down your spine. His voice was much more rigid when he said, “I expect an answer when I ask a question, sweetheart.”

You ignored him again, instead asking, “Who are you?”

He took a deep breath, flexing both hands. Extreme irritation passed over his face before it was replaced with a practiced calm. He sat at the foot of the bed and patted the space next to him. “Come sit,” he said. You didn’t move. “Now,” he growled. Something in his tone made it clear, not only that he would move you himself if he had to, but even more so, that you didn’t want it to come to that. You got up and sat on the far edge of the bed. He reached over and grabbed your arm hard, dragging you into his side. You cried out but he shushed you. “Alright,” he said, “I will answer your question once you answer mine. How are you feeling?”

This was the most scared you’d ever been. You had to take a few deep breaths before you were able to say. “I have a headache and I’m a little nauseous. And I’m very scared.”

He gently took your hand in his and cooed at you. “That’d be the drugs they used to knock you out. You’ll feel better when they’re completely out of your system. Eating will help. You can have some soup once we’re done talking.” He paused, for what you didn’t know. You didn’t say anything. He smiled. “You can ask your question now. Good girl waiting for permission.”

Your head swung to look at him. That hadn’t been what you were doing. Had it? You were woozy and scared and just trying to figure out what the fuck was going on. That was most important, so you let his comment go and repeated your question. “Who are you?”

He squeezed your hand. “I’m your husband, sweetheart. My name is Andy.”

That was the answer you’d been terrified of since you’d seen the rings on your finger. He was fucking crazy. He had to be. The best you could do right now was to get as much information out of him as you could. “And where are we? Is this your house?” You were trying to keep your voice steady, but you could hear the tremor in it.

“This is our house, sweetheart. Just outside Boston.”

Your eyes widened and your heart rate picked up in panic. “Boston?? No– That’s– How did I get here?!” This was even worse than you thought. You were nowhere near home, nowhere near anything familiar.

He just looked at you for a moment with narrowed eyes. Then he nodded and said, “Ok, I’m going to be honest and explain it to you, because I think it will help you understand your place here. But in the future, you need to know that I don’t appreciate having to explain myself. Good wives don’t question their husband's actions. Now, since I’m going out of my way to make this clear for you, I expect you to sit quietly and listen. Can you do that for me?”

You clenched your hands into fists, wanting to rage at him for how he was speaking to you like a child, but you knew you needed this information. You needed everything you could get if you were going to get out of here, so you tried to control your breathing and nodded.

He looked at you like he wanted to scold you for something, but then visibly changed his mind and began. “I’ve had a hard life, the last few years especially, I’ve been through a lot. Things haven’t turned out the way they were supposed to. I wanted a family. I thought I had one, but– It wasn’t how it was supposed to be, and then I lost even that. I wanted to try again, but I couldn’t put in all that effort without a guarantee that I wouldn’t wind up with nothing again.

“I’m a lawyer. I used to work as an ADA and now I’m in defense. In both jobs, I’ve made a lot of connections with people from different walks of life. Through that, I found a man who provides a service – if you let him know what you’re looking for, he’ll find you a person who fills those needs. So I told him that I was looking for someone to build a family with, a good wife. He presented me with a few options, and I chose you. For a hefty price, his men picked you up and brought you here. They also put together all new paperwork for you, a whole new identity. The old you doesn’t exist anymore, do you understand? You’re Mrs. Barber now, property of your husband. I bought and paid for you. I own you, every part of you.”

You saw his hand start to move toward your thigh and you jumped up, quickly pressing yourself against the wall. You just stared at him for a moment and then the panic truly hit you, but this time, it was accompanied by blinding anger. “That’s human trafficking, you complete fucking psycho! The fuck is wrong with you?!” Once you’d started screaming, you couldn’t stop. “You can’t just buy a wife, you fucking cuck! I’m a person! People are going to look for me!” He stood up and came at you and you swung out with your fists, your nails, your knees, whatever you fucking could. You connected a few times, drew a grunt from him before he somehow pinned your wrists behind your back. You screamed as loud as you could, but it did nothing.

He frog-marched you out of the room as he said, “I was hoping we wouldn’t have to do this so soon, but you need a timeout, honey. Some time to calm down in the quiet room, and then we can try again and go over the rules. You just need some time to think by yourself.”

You tried to pay attention as he pushed you through what looked like a little apartment: a living room, a kitchenette. He stopped at an innocuous-looking door with a keypad on it, just like the one in the bedroom. He turned you away so you couldn’t see as he entered the code, one hand still keeping your wrists in a bruising grip. Before you’d even realized he’d opened the door, he was shoving you into the room so hard you briefly left the ground. The door slammed shut behind you. You hit the floor hard and groaned. You stumbled up onto your hands and knees. You heard another beep, then the grinding of a lock. Then nothing.

The room was pitch black. You weren’t even sure where the door was now, as there wasn’t any light coming through the cracks. You crawled around, trying to get an idea of the space. It was small and empty as far as you could tell. But there was a low rumbling noise that seemed to fill the room. You couldn’t pinpoint the source just from listening, it felt like it was coming from everywhere. The floor under your hands was bare, concrete. Your hands brushed through cobwebs and other detritus you couldn’t see. You cautiously held a hand out as you continued to try to map out the room, terrified you’d smack your face right into the wall. It made contact with something hot and sharp. You pulled it back with a hiss, pain radiating through your palm. You felt the first few wet drops. Shit. You were bleeding. You’d cut yourself. Fuck. “Hey!” you called out as loud as you could. There was no answer. “Hey!” you tried again, “I’m hurt! I’m bleeding!” No response. “WHAT THE FUCK?” You were screaming now. “YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE! LET ME OUT!” Nothing. God, this room was already lightproof, maybe it was soundproof, too. He wouldn’t be able to hear you, wouldn’t know you were hurt. You couldn’t tell how badly you’d cut your hand so you raised it above your head, hoping that might at least slow down the bleeding. It was dirty you were sure. God, how long did it take for cuts to get infected? You hoped you wouldn’t find out. You didn’t even know what you’d cut it on. What if it was rusty? Shit, when was your last tetanus booster? You couldn’t remember exactly. Fuck. You really didn’t want to die from tetanus in some random basement in Massachusetts. A tear rolled down your cheek. He couldn’t leave you in here too long, could he? No. He would come get you soon.

You had no idea how long you’d been sitting in the dark, your knees pulled up to your chest, one arm wrapped around them, the other still held in the air. Your shoulder was so sore, but you were too worried to lower your hand. You wished you could see the cut, know exactly how bad it was. You wished you knew how much time had passed. With no frame of reference, no external indicators, you were afraid you’d lost the ability to tell the difference between hours and minutes. It’d been hours. It had to have been hours. How long was he going to leave you here? He had to come back soon. He had to. You took some perverse comfort in the fact that he’d spent a lot of money on you. That had to mean that he wouldn’t just leave you here. He’d want a return on his investment. You tried to ignore the chills that thought gave you.

You’d been crying on and off. It made you feel pathetic but what else were you supposed to do? The panic, too, ebbed and flowed. You’d been trying to keep your breathing even, trying to ignore how small the space was, how dirty, how dark. Deep breaths in through your nose and out through your mouth. It wasn’t doing much to calm you, but at least it gave you something to focus on.

Just as a fresh wave of tears overtook you, a blinding light came in, directly opposite you. You squinted and raised your uninjured hand in front of your eyes, but that didn’t do much to help.

“Oh sweetheart,” Andy’s voice cooed, before gently lifting you by your arms and herding you out. He half-carried you through the finished part of the basement while your eyes continued to adjust. Before you knew it, you were back in the bedroom you’d started in. He gently sat you down on the edge of the bed and crouched in front of you. You felt dazed. The room was too bright. You didn’t know how you could keep breaking the record for the most scared you’d ever been. There had to be a ceiling, a limit. You’d hit it soon, wouldn’t you?

You still had your hand raised and cradled to your chest. Andy touched your wrist and you flinched. He raised an eyebrow in question and you whispered, “I got hurt.” He sighed and gently tugged at your wrist again. This time you let him guide your arm down, moving your hand so you both could see it. It was a little grimy and definitely red, slightly swollen maybe. There was a little dried blood, but not much. The cut was so much more shallow than you’d imagined when you were trapped in that room alone. You felt incredibly foolish. You’d thought you were going to lose your hand over a glorified paper cut.

Andy carefully moved his thumb over a raised patch under the cut that you now realized was a minor burn. “Did you touch the furnace?” The furnace – that’s what’d been making that noise. That’s what you’d cut yourself on. That’s where he’d thrown you. What the fuck? You were lucky you hadn’t hurt yourself even worse. You looked up from your hand to see him frowning at you. “Why would you do that? Sweetheart, you have to be more careful. That was a very stupid thing to do.” He got up and walked into the ensuite, opening a cabinet under the sink.

Was he seriously scolding you for getting hurt in a dangerous room he’d locked you in?? The rage from earlier was starting to return, but it was still tempered by your fear. You did your best to keep your voice even when you replied, “It was completely dark in there. I couldn’t see anything.” A little growl came through your words, but it wasn’t anything compared to what you were actually feeling.

He came back holding a small first-aid kit. “Well then that’s a good reason to keep your hands to yourself, isn’t it?” He sat down and opened the kit, pulling out a few wipes and beginning to somewhat roughly clean your hand. “Sweetheart, I’m here to take care of you. That’s my job as your husband. But I need you to be a good girl and not put yourself in harm’s way.”

“You threw me in there!” you said, your voice starting to get louder, despite your best efforts to keep calm.

“Because you were bad and needed a time-out!” he yelled back at you. He threw the dirty wipes into the trashcan beside the bed and took a deep breath, visibly calming himself. He grabbed an ointment from the kit and began applying it to your hand. “That’s why we’re going to talk about rules now. They’re there to keep you safe and both of us happy. When you don’t follow them, something like this can happen.”

You didn’t say anything. You had to be smart if you were ever going to get out of here and antagonizing him wasn’t smart. He didn’t seem to expect a response anyway as he just silently placed a bandage on your hand and then got up and put the kit away. He came back and sat right next to you, turning so he could look into your eyes. You tried to turn your head away, but he grabbed your chin and forced eye contact.

“Alright,” he said, his tone already so fucking patronizing. “A good thing that came out of your little tantrum is that now we know the areas we need to focus on most for improvement – manners, respect, and attitude. I did some thinking during your quiet time too, and I’ve adjusted your training schedule to focus on these things. It’ll be good for both of us.”

What the actual fucking fuck? “Training schedule?” was all you managed to get out.

Andy nodded. “I’m sure you’ve figured out that we’re in the basement right now. I have a beautiful big house upstairs that I can’t wait to show you. But you’re going to have to earn it first, prove to me that you know how to be good, that I can trust you before we can go upstairs. That’s what the training will do. I’m going to teach you exactly how to be perfect for me, everything I want, and in return I’m going to give you a perfect life, so much better than what you had before. We’re going to be so happy together, sweetheart. I promise.

“Now, it’s going to take time. I understand that. And I’m going to be patient with you. I know what your life was like before. I know that you probably never expected that you’d ever get to have this. Change can be scary. Dreams coming true, it’s scary. But I’ll be here to guide you through it all. I’m going to give you everything and all I ask of you in return is that you be good for me. That’s all.”

You wanted to scream. You wanted to sob. What the hell was this? How could this man, this stranger, be so completely deranged? Be smart, you chanted to yourself. Be smart be smart be smart. And if you opened your mouth now, you knew exactly what would come out. So you kept it shut and let him continue.

“So first, let’s talk about your tantrum. I don’t appreciate being spoken to that way. The language and the names, it’s unacceptable. So, no swearing going forward. And I think a good rule for you while we’re downstairs will be for you to address me as Sir. Once we’ve moved upstairs, you’ll be allowed to call me Andy, but whenever we’re down here, it’s Sir. Do you understand?” He looked at you expectantly. You clenched your jaw and nodded. “I expect a verbal response when I speak to you, sweetheart.”

“Yes,” you gritted out. He raised an eyebrow at you and his gaze hardened. It took you a moment to realize your mistake. “Yes, sir,” you corrected yourself.

“Very good. As your husband, I expect you to give me the respect I deserve. That’s something we’ll work on. It’s very important that you don’t question me. I know what’s best for you and you need to trust that I will give you whatever information you need to have. If I haven’t told you something, it’s because you don’t need to know, ok?”

He paused again. What kind of Stepford hell was this? What had you done to deserve this? You took a deep breath. Then another. And another. Then, finally, you were able to force out a “Yes, sir.”

He smiled. “You’re so smart, sweetheart. You’ll be upstairs in no time. Now, you’ll start learning your routine tomorrow. I’ve taken some time off work for our honeymoon, so I’ll have plenty of time to get you settled and acclimated. We’ll go over wardrobe and makeup requirements in the morning too. Now,” he slapped his thighs and stood up, “your soup from earlier went cold, so how about I go get you a fresh bowl while you take a quick shower and get all that dust and grime from the Quiet Room off you?”

You held back a grimace at him calling that room that, as he walked over to one of the other doors and unlocked it. He talked to you like you were a child. All of this was so fucked up. But a shower sounded incredible. You had no idea how long it’d been since you’d had one. So you just nodded and let out a quiet, “Yes, sir.”

He beamed at you. “Everything you’ll need is in the bathroom. I’ll be back in just a few minutes.”

You stood and waited til he was out the door, listening to the beeps and grinding locks once he was gone. Shit. You were really fucked. You went into the bathroom and closed the door behind you. There was no lock on the inside. Of course, there wasn’t.

You didn’t waste much time in the bathroom, desperate for a hot shower. You vaguely registered that the counter was stocked with all sorts of beauty aids – expensive lotions and serums like he’d bought out a department store beauty counter. The shower too, was equally well stocked. So much fancier than the Target sale items you usually stocked your bathroom with. But the shower felt incredible and that’s what you chose to focus on.

When you were finished, you came out of the shower to see that the bathroom door was open. You could hear Andy moving around in the bedroom. You shuddered and quickly wrapped a plush towel around yourself. There was a fresh nightgown waiting for you, soft pink, all silk and lace. You grimaced and wondered what you’d need to do to get a pair of sleep shorts and an old T-shirt to sleep in. Probably more than you were willing to do, if it was even possible. You dried off quickly and slipped the nightgown on.

When you exited the bathroom, he was sitting on the bed, the tray of food sitting next to him. There was a bowl of soup and a cup of water, along with a small plate with a few crackers. The dishes and utensils were all plastic. Nothing you could hurt him with. You sat down and watched him carefully as you lifted the tray onto your lap. He didn’t say anything so it must have been allowed. Your hand shook as you brought the first spoonful up to your lips. The soup was warm, not hot, certainly not scalding. Another hope dashed. Throwing it at him would only result in him getting wet. And angry. Not worth it.

As you ate, you realized just how hungry you actually were. The nausea from whatever drugs you’d had had covered it up, but you were starving. You barely even tasted the soup, you just needed to eat. God, how long had it been since you’d had food? You wouldn’t bother asking Andy. You knew he wouldn’t give you an answer.

After he watched you eat for a few minutes, he said, “What do you say, sweetheart?”

God, he used that word like it was your name. It made you want to scream. You swallowed down all your anger and a spoonful of soup before you said, “Thank you, sir.”

He gave you a satisfied smile. “See,” he said, “I knew you had good manners.”

You shoved the spoon into your mouth to prevent any sort of comeback. This fucking asshole. Luckily he let you eat the rest of your meal in peace. But he never took his eyes off you.

Once you were done, Andy put the tray on the dresser and then declared it bedtime. You watched him cautiously, as he went to the dresser and took out a pair of boxers and a cotton tee. He changed right in the middle of the room and you turned your head away. You caught flashes of skin, that if he’d been anyone else, in any other circumstances, would have had you drooling. It was becoming hard to breathe again. What else would he demand from you tonight?

You chanced a glance back up at him to find him changed and staring at you. You swallowed nervously. “Come here,” he said firmly, holding his hand out to you. You slowly, so slowly, made your way to him. As soon as you were in reach, he grabbed your elbow and pulled you the rest of the way in so that you were nestled into his chest. “I know,” he said, stroking one hand down your back, “that we’re both thinking about our first time together, but I’d like to wait.” He ran the fingers of his other hand down the strap of your nightgown, slipping onto your bare skin. “Give you a chance to get fully adjusted. Give us both a chance to get to know each other.” His voice slipped down an octave as his fingers traveled across your chest. Your body bowed to get away from him, but he didn’t seem to notice or care. “Give us a chance to enjoy each other.” His breath hitched as his hand traveled down to your breast, the other hand on your back had stilled, holding you close, stopping you from getting away. He moved his head as close as he could to yours and whispered, “I want it to be special.” Then, before you could try to back away, he was kissing you. It was firm and demanding, giving you no option but to let it happen. He angled his growing erection into your thigh, and with the way he was holding you, you couldn’t lean away from it. His tongue forced its way into your mouth and you couldn’t help the way you whimpered. It felt like it might go on forever, when he finally pulled back, resting his forehead against yours. “I’m so happy you’re mine,” he whispered.

And then he was out of your space, leaving you trying to breathe again, alone in the middle of the room, as he climbed into the bed. You just stood there, unsure of what to do, your lips still tingling. Once he was settled on the side of the bed closest to the door, he called your name. “Come to bed now,” he said, and there was no mistaking it for anything other than an order. You ducked your head and climbed onto the bed, terrified of what might come next, but also desperate for sleep. This day had left you exhausted and confused and scared and so angry. It was all too much.

You tried to lie down as close to the edge as you could, but he pulled you in close so that your back was flush to his front, his arm thrown over your waist. “I'm so proud of you,” he whispered into your hair, “getting through your first day without having to go to the punishment room.”

Your mouth went completely dry. A room you hadn’t been to. Somewhere worse than the quiet room. “What's–” your tongue struggled to form the words. You took a breath and tried again. “What's the punishment room?” You caught yourself at the last minute and added a quiet “Sir.”

His hand caressed your side. “You keep being my good girl and you won't have to find out.”

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strawberrysnoopy · 3 months

Text

ACT ONE: The Photo Shoot, part one

prologue

summary of the series: for months, leon has been writhing in his bed dreaming of his friend's wife (you). he's been fighting the desperation for months until that one night you bring up a lingerie shoot you've done for a prestigious brand.

summary of this part: recalling the first time you and leon met, you've realized you've been poorly treated by your husband. leon is no different, in a toxic relationship with his wife, ada wong. as the seeds of resentment have begun to germinate, the desire for you grows like a brush fire nearby.

warnings: MENTIONS OF PUKE, BUT NOT ACTUAL PUKING, leon teaches you how to smoke (i don't wanna see no dumb stupid comments about "oh but leon hates smoking", well leon isn't disloyal but here we are), brief use of (adjective) girl (atta girl, good girl, silly girl), praise, mentions of misogyny (not from Leon ofc), awkward, tense ass convos, a fuckton of desc. and a little description, no sex (yet ;) ), cussing, descriptions of fucking, descriptions of masturbation, semi-public masturbation, almost caught masturbating, slight corruption kink (? if you squint), alcohol consumption, use of tobacco, smoking, implied sexual references, etc.

also a/n, writing this as of feb. 2nd, 2024: 60 notes?!!!!! i was writing this for my own personal pleasure but like...??!?! i got reblogged so many times?! im gagged, tysm you guys!!! making a playlist rn, so excited to release the soundtrack. if you see little random edits, i'm probably obsessing over the fic and trying to make it perfect lol/anticipate changes. i would also like to write I DO NOT CONDONE CHEATING! always communicate with your partner, discuss issues, etc. this fic is just a lil’ taboo type of fantasy, do NOT cheat on your partners.

The first time you met Leon was at a grocery store: two weeks before your husband would have any idea of his existence and one week before he had invited Leon and his wife, Ada, over for dinner. You were picking up a bottle of red wine for you and your husband under the guise of wanting something nice for date night. The reality would actually be you were buying it for yourself after your husband decides you're not worth his affections anymore, lazily mosey on over to the spare room, and pull out his phone to text other women. The wine would be something to drink to inebriate you while you watched a shitty re-run of a sitcom from the 90s. Maybe if you got lucky, Golden Girls was on.

He was only browsing, stumbling upon the liquor section and staying to look if there would be anything worthwhile. And there was. It was you. He knew he had to think of something witty, something cool people say, before you left and thought he was some creep staring at you because he saw a smidgen of your breasts in a magazine. "You're a famous model, right?" He asked. Oh, how stupid he felt. He was a chronic overthinker: thinking of every last terrible scenario, a trait he picked up after becoming an agent. This had certainly felt like one of the worst options he picked, especially with how you would-- You interrupted him. "Yeah, that's me." The subtle sweetness, the slight rasp in your voice was better than anything any street drug could offer with the amount of dopamine flooding into his brain: overloading every neuron, synapse, dendrite, and cell membrane in his body.

But for whatever reason, he stretched his hand outwards and lazily grinned towards you. "I'm Leon." "Nice to meet you. Well, I'd say my name but y'know..." He nodded in an awkward agreement before you could even finish your sentence, but not daring to go as far to interrupt you. He felt as if he already started off the conversation with a cumbersome beginning. "Right, right. So, that's your real name? I see a lot of models use stage names n' stuff like that." He adjusts his weight from one foot to the other, switching the hand holding his grocery basket from his right to his left. He felt so...awkward around you. Maybe it was the fact you were a famous model, or maybe it was the fact you were just so calm. The joke causes a soft chuckle to leave your lips and the mere look of a fleeting moment of bliss to cross over your features makes his knees turn into gelatin. Those nerves solidify into stone when the overwhelming sense of guilt hits him like a tidal wave but allows it to wash over him for the sake of continuing the conversation.

"Yeah, just my regular name. I'm not that creative outside of modeling. Usually the photographers do the thinking and the creative processes for me." He chuckled, shaking his head and barely moving himself a little closer. Leon wanted to sink in that gentle, warm, and soft presence you carried around with you. Your aura felt comforting: like a hug after a tough day: it had felt so much more different than his wife. True, Ada could be affectionate but that's usually only after something good has happened to her or Leon was her last resort of attention. He really hated how much he would act like an obedient dog, awaiting her arrival home, coming back to her after she's treated him like dirt. You? You felt so goddamn altruistic and considerate. And he's only known you for three minutes.

You notice he's gone silent and you're silently hoping he thought you were cool. Cool. Like a teenager trying to fit in. You silently cringe at yourself until he smiles at you, almost like he's signaling you to continue the conversation. You can't think of any conversation starters. And you're a model for gods sake. You're usually so outgoing and social with other people but now it's like a cat came by and stole your voice box. Thankfully, he takes over that portion for you. "Buying wine?" He knew it was dry as all hell but he wanted to steer the conversation away from him being a fan of your modeling gigs. No, he just wanted to talk to you and discover what you were like behind the camera. (Okay, and maybe he wanted to see if you'd flirt with him.) "Yup. But I'm just buying wine for..." You paused, about to say 'for me and my husband' but your throat becomes dry whenever you feel like you're about to announce it to him. "...Myself."

He smiles. He likes that you're awkward in real life. The fact made you feel more real, like you weren't just some sexy model with expensive tastes and a bratty attitude. You were a person like anyone else.

"Right. Me too, just uh...just browsing." You nod, fidgeting anxiously with the sleeves of the coat you decided to toss on last minute before leaving the house.

The conversation went on to end when you eventually realized you would be home late. Although you thought that worrying your husband a little would be the thing that reignited the spark in your marriage, you knew that punctuality was a habit you'd like to upkeep. That, and you also knew if you talked to this handsome stranger for longer, you'd cheat on your husband. That night, Leon had fallen asleep to the thought of you for the first time. Soft little visions of pressing his lips against yours, caressing your cheek softly and whispering sweet nothings into your ear, etc, etc, cheesy lovey dovey bullshit. So much more different than the truly filthy thoughts he had about you nowadays. You're torn from your conversation with your friends when you make eye contact with him. You can practically feel his eyes travel from the hair at the highest point on your head to the very last bit of your black, leathery heels with perfect pretty pearls embellished on the pump. For a moment, you feel like you're trapped in some type of horny labyrinth while you stare longingly at him.

He's ripped out of his own longing by the feeling of your husband's hand slapping his back. Ada sat beside Leon with her arm protectively wrapped around his bicep. You felt as if the gesture were a signal to everyone at the party that Leon belonged to her. He was under her control, nobody else's. Or maybe the protective message was for her husband, as if he was an unruly friend to her husband. And you could agree with that. You fell in love with your husband because he was wild and care-free but after the diamond ring was slipped onto your ring finger, you realized he was also carefree in the sense that hurt you: talking to other women behind your back, and leaving for days at a time only to come back inebriated. But you stood by his side, no matter what. You hated how you felt like a doormat but you didn't know what else to do besides stay married and play the role of an oblivious wife while your husband fucks other women in various positions. In a way, you and Leon sat in the same loveless boat. Who knew when that same boat would be shaking from the violence of the both of you fucking, clothing pulled out and to the side instead of being fully taken off. Your thoughts become interrupted by an unmistakably handsome voice.

"Hey."

You feel a hand being placed upon your lower back except it's so much more different than your husband's. The palms were rough, callouses inside the nooks and crannies, and pulsing veins make you all dizzy if you thought about it for too long. His voice was dampened with some undertone of lust, his fingers prodding into the skin of your sides. He's always been a little too handsy for a man that's supposed to happily married. But you always figured touch was how he communicates: touch. But he's never touchy with your husband. Or any of your friends. And he missed you? Sure, your're friends due to the fact your husband was friends with Leon. (Even though you met him first, but I digress.) The simple phrase had your mind reeling, cheeks flushed red due to the hidden intimacy of it all. His wife shoots him a look and his hand immediately retreats back to his side, fighting the urge to palm the engorged erection struggling against the seam of his boxers. "Haven't seen you in so long, hm? Thought you disappeared on me for a minute." He's holding his facade of being totally and irrevocably in love with Ada up and steady. Like he had no feelings for you other than being friends.

"Of course not." You murmur, feeling a hearty chuckle reverberate from his chest. He takes his index finger and his thumb and gently swiping it against your chin.

"Atta girl." And of course, with how hoarse his voice is, your panties are instantly puddled with a thick pool of arousal. You hate his stupid, thick, sexy, and deep voice. You especially hate his voice whenever you imagine him degrading and praising you whenever your husband was away and you just happened to have your hand down your underwear, playing with your clit to ease the throbbing impulses you felt for Leon. He gives your back a single pat before moving back to stand beside his wife. You really hate that you feel jealousy flare like wildfire within you, but you brush it off.

Everyone would eventually be drawn to the several dining tables that were arranged in a group and had golden candlesticks and smooth white tablecloths on top. Once you are seated, you observe that Leon appears to be striving extra hard to guarantee his place beside you. He looks right at you for a brief moment. And only then can you see, just a hint of thirst sprouting in his eyes, before he glances away from you and gives Ada a quick smile while patting her thigh.

It's only a few minutes before Leon decides to break the awkward silence.

"How's that modeling gig going?" You nod, gulping down way too much champagne.

"Good, been going good. Have to admit it gets a little boring posing in front of the camera after a while but can't bite the hand that pays you, right?" You joke, and the table laughs with some sense of jealousy. "Nice to hear. What was your latest shoot?" He asked, leaning forward in a sudden rush of intrigue. Then those words pass your lips. Words he had never anticipated, even in his wildest guess (oddly.)

"A lingerie shoot. For Chanel." The table goes quiet. And everyone, including your dumb-ass husband, look at you. Someone (Ada) clears their throat in the dining room, hinting at you to elaborate and it's almost like you suddenly developed to ability to hear from light years away.

Leon, who had just finally got his goddamn boner under control feels his cock twitch back to life, fully hard instead of a semi this time. And correct him if he's wrong, but he starts to feel pre-cum smearing his dress pants. He's thankful he chose the black slacks instead of his lighter colored ones otherwise this would be downright humiliating.

"Sorry, um...I did an intimates photo-shoot for Chanel a few weeks ago for their new line of clothing." That seems to help lighten the mood a lot more because everyone goes back to their conversation with their respective friends, the embarrassing "confession" from you immediately leaving their minds. "The theme was Overtime. Like, staying later in the office with my shirt unbuttoned and stuff. Nothing that interesting."

The table simultaneously nodded, Leon going as far to excuse himself for a cigarette.

"If you'll excuse me, I'm gonna go have a smoke." Leon scoots out from his seat, heading towards the upstairs balcony to take care of business. Asshole, leaving me with his mean ass wife.

You decide to join him outside.

The air had finally gotten too tense, felt too judgmental for your taste. Scampering outside, you're met with the sight of Leon smoking a cigarette outside. That's odd: you've usually pegged him to be the straight-laced, no-nonsense type of man yet here he was, smoking a cigarette while leaning against the balustrade of their friend's top floor home. At the sound of the balcony door opening, he turns his head to see what you're doing out here. His eyes scan you, almost like he would while he's in combat but it's more or less to get another glimpse of the outfit you were wearing tonight. Okay, and maybe he wanted to commit the sight of you to memory.

"You alright?" He asked, trying his best to look straight forward when you step closer and cross your arms over the balustrade.

"M'fine, just needed a minute of fresh air, I think." When you sit beside Leon, there's a few things you notice. The first was his outfit. A white button-up that usually would be covered by his black suit jacket, though he left it behind on his chair in the dining room. There's also mentioning his blacks slacks, fitting his muscular thighs a bit tight but loose enough so they're comfortable. Then there's the dress shoes, ones he wore at his wedding due to how overly formal they looked. Maybe he wanted to get some more use out of them? Who knows.

"What about you? Why are you out here?" You decided to be the one to take the reigns since the air outside had become incredibly awkward as well. "Same. Thought I'd take a minute of fresh air, you know?" The second thing you notice about Leon is how much he calms you. More importantly, how much you never noticed that you were anxious when you were around others. He had this aura of relaxing or maybe you were just buzzed, who knows that either? Maybe it's the cigarette, speaking of...

"I haven't smoked since college. Cigarettes, I mean. Don't think I even know how to do it anymore." The confession makes his head tilt to the side, now taking more of an interest in the conversation than before. He grinned wolfishly, taking your chin in one of his thick and strong hands and pulling your head forward. For a second, you could almost be dumb enough to think he'd be moving in for a kiss. Of course not. You'd never be that lucky. "Open f'me, sweetheart." And like an obedient puppy, you opened your mouth just enough so your pretty pink-shaded lips could be parted. He placed the cigarette on your lip, the moisture making the filter stay in your mouth alongside his index and middle finger holding it up, thumb brushing your chin. Little hazes of grey smoke dance along your tongue without even taking a sip of the smoke yet, your lips trembling with a lustful agony. "Now close your mouth..." He whispered, his damp and hot and horny breath hitting your ear like an affectionate declaration of love. "And inhale."

You close your lips around the cigarette, faintly tasting the flavor of him where he had sucked on the cigarette. You got notes of citrus, rum or some expensive, top-shelf label of whiskey he used to help quell the pain he experienced on grueling missions, tobacco, and maybe even the slightest hint of his wife's lipstick. Chanel's Rogue Allure, if you had to guess correctly. "...Now hold it..."

You held it. "Silly girl." He whispered, pulling the cigarette away from your lips while you slowly exhaled the rest of the smoke you've been holding in your mouth and then some. You can't tell if it's because of the alcohol, Leon's presence, or your mere anxiety but you begin to feel dizzy. Thankfully Leon seems to swoop in with his questions to keep your head in the game. Bless him.

"Why'd you need a minute, huh?"

For a minute there, you didn't know how to respond. Looking down at the leathery pumps you chose for the evening, you begin to wonder why you even chose them instead of answering his question. But you answered him. Eventually.

"I'm just tired. This whole night just seems a bit…” You gesture to the party in the background. “Fake. I don’t want to be here."

He hummed in agreement, but it felt like more of a signal for you to keep going. "I'm also just terrible at making conversation. Especially when it's awkward and silent."

His eyes flicker down to the pumps he'd already stared at tonight, not finding an interest in them anymore than your own body. He tucked his lip between his teeth, pulling the pink flesh away from his mouth before he spoke up again. "You're not that bad, you know? I think you're pretty good. How about this?" He pauses. Then a beat passes.

"Tell me something true. Tell me something you wouldn't brag to anyone about." He moved his cigarette to rest on the balustrade instead of the space between his fingers. "Something that's yours...and only yours."

You look at Leon with wide eyes, mouth agape as you struggle to answer his question. Your eyes rake down his face from the space between his eyebrows to his parted, pink lips: just a little chapped from the cold chill of the night air. You wanted to kiss him. All of those times you've had him over for dinner, all of those times you've spent with your hand down your panties while your husband was away on "business": dreaming of his best friend, Leon, and god, all of those times you thought about throwing caution to the wind and leaning in to press your lips against his: the sum of all of those moments had you quivering for more.

But you'd never cheat. You have a reputation. You have a husband that gifted you the pretty diamond ring on your finger. But how did it always feel so...impossible? Like you couldn't live another day if you weren't able to fuck Leon like a rabid dog in heat. But he was staring at you, almost as if his eyes were laser beams and searing holes into your skin: you had to answer.

"I don't know what I could tell you that's only mine." You chew on your lip. "Huh. How about..."

How about the fact I wanna kiss you? I wish it was you I was in bed with rather than my stupid, cheating husband? The fact you are so much hotter than him?

"I hate being a trophy." And that brings the biggest grin on Leon's face. A massive shit-eating grin. Leon had gone stir crazy. He wanted to peel your entire being open, see all of the nooks and crannies of your soul and devour it whole. But now wasn't the time to scare you away: even if he wanted to fuck you, you were still a friend to him. So he calmed down. "I can't say that's too surprising. I mean, who would? Being able to be pretty and have money being tossed at you is nice until you want something deeper. Then it seems like one of the only things that are scarce in your life."

You nod, letting out a breath of consolation. "That's exactly how I feel. Like my only purpose is to sit still, look pretty, serve my husband, and be a hole when he needs it."

His eyes become downcast, looking down at the garden on the ground level of the restaurant. "I get what you mean." The moment was interrupted by a waiter peeking out on the two of you: head poked outside of the door that lead to the outside area. He pulls his hand away from your soft skin and back to his side, sighing wistfully that tonight wouldn't be the night he gets to act on his desires for you. Damn it all to hell.

"You should head back. I'll be back, yeah?" You nod and within a few seconds, you've returned to your spot at the dinner table. He sighs, hand slipping down to palm at his erection. Fuck. Can't go back like this.

Just resist. You're just another woman. You have a husband, He thinks to himself, I'm married to a lovely woman. I am a faithful husband. The silent mantra he practices on himself works about as well as a band-aid on a bullet hole. Resist. God, but you looked so pretty tonight. That cute jewelry set you wore with your little black dress? Hot. The smoothness of your skin?

Resist.

But he can't stop picturing you on your knees in front of him, sucking on his cock. The sounds your perfect, wet mouth would make. How he'd ease himself down your throat. How you'd whine.

Resist.

Or how about when he could be fucking his cock into your tight, wet, and warm cunt? The tip of his dick kissing your cervix? Or what about the positions he could force your body into? Like having his arm around your throat, bicep curling into your mouth to muffle your moans from his wife hearing? Or how one of his hands would be gripping your hips while he needily plowed into your pussy, while you begged him to let up. Resist.

Resist.

Fuck it.

In the few moments after he's excused himself from you, he's already rushing to the upstairs bathroom of the restaurant: thanking the holy beings above for making it a single stall bathroom for his jerking pleasure. He hastily unbuckles his belt with one hand, other hand impulsively opening Twitter as a first resort to find some fashion fanatic post about the slutty lingerie photo-shoot you did for Chanel. Alas, you're still a bit of an undiscovered goddess in the modeling industry at the moment: so Google is his next best option. He pulls out his half-hard but hardening cock from his jeans before he can even find your photo-shoot and gives it a quick few pumps to ease the throbbing that's starting to build up in his loins. Eventually, he finds it. Thank fucking god because the creativity for his fantasies are beginning to run quite dry. And instantly he's grunting and groaning while he strokes his cock and scrolls through the multiple scandalous photos the photographers took of you.

"Fuck." He winces in pleasurable agony as he stares at quite possibly his favorite photo of you. The photo was in black and white: theme being "Overtime" like you mentioned. The white button up shirt was undone, revealing you had nothing on underneath, and allowed for the side of your perfect breasts to be revealed. If he squinted just a little harder, he could see your puffy nipples threatening to peek out of the shirt. He tried squinting a little harder to see your nipples a little easier. And oh my god. You have piercings?! He almost shot his entire load on the spot. God, he needed to fuck you. And hard. He groans as he feel himself get closer to orgasm. Closer, and closer, until--

"Leon?"

Fuck. It was you. God, of course you're so goddamn sweet, checking up on him to make sure he's okay. He didn't dare stop stroking himself off, especially not when he's got jerk-worthy material of you almost catching him. That's also not mentioning the soft intonations of your almost innocent voice right there. He's trying not to cum too quick, wanting to savor those images for as long as he could but he also realized his wife might start asking some questions and she wouldn't be on the other side of the door if she came upstairs. "F-fuck, yeah?" He responded after much too long of hearing your sweet voice. "Did you need something?" "Are you okay? I just got worried when you left. You've been gone for like..." You check your wristwatch: a classic and dainty Timex from the 80s with a blank band that wrapped around your wrist snugly.

"Fifteen minutes. Do you need water? Ibuprofen?" He shakes his head as if you could see him while he continues to jerk himself off, hand swirling in a sort of cranking motion as he tries to work his cock to orgasm. But his pre-cum isn't coming out fast enough, not as fast as the pumping motions his hand was doing right now, so he spits in his hand before bringing his palm back down to his cock and lathering his dick in spit. You believe him enough to think he might be getting ready to vomit.

"Nah, jus'...ngh, drank too much, I think." Please keep talking, He selfishly thinks to himself. "Oh, okay. Well, if you need anything, just text me?" He nodded, grunting out a thank you while he continues to dream of ruthlessly fucking you until you're embedded into his mattress. He wants you. He needs you. He feels himself get a little closer until he finally releases into his fist. His hot and sticky cum ran down his palm while the waves of post-orgasmic bliss and post-nut clarity simultaneously moved together as one. For a few minutes, he's panting like a rabid dog in heat until his breath eventually stills and he's able to walk downstairs and look his wife in the face while giving her the impression that he definitely didn't just masturbate to his best friend's wife. When he sits down at the table, the first person he makes eye contact with is you. You smile at him, mouthing a "you okay?" because, of course, you're still worried about him being sick. He nods with a grin peeled onto his face. Because he came to the sound of your voice. And you didn't have a fucking clue.

credits: snoopy divider by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more heart divider by @saradika-graphics

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hana-no-seiiki · 2 months

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Hi, i dont know your request are still open, but. Maybe Arlecchino! reader? where the batfam first time met them, they think she is a enemy? (well she is actually, idk) by her mysterious manner? they know her from Damian, who is friends with Lyney and Lynette. Damian never met with reader. But, one day. Lyney and Lynette is been bring to the Wayne Manor by Damian. For a simple dinner, yes. They tell that they are orphans that live in a orphanage named "House of Hearth" at France.

They come to Gotham for study. And yes, Bruce feels sympathy for them (actually want to adopt them.). Well thats just an idea he have in his mind. But, now. Bruce interested as they said that "Father" which is reader is a woman. And lucky, Reader is at Gotham for some "business", Bruce added that he like to make this "Father" came to have dinner with them tommorow.

(Fatui Harbinger is a netral organisation. Yet, still indeed dangerous. They only search something important for their own fortune, maybe like a mafia or something?)

Anyway. When the Batfam met with Reader, they cant help. But find, reader is.. Strange, and mysterious. But cant help by their charming aura. And, why is reader suddenly accept the offer to met with the Batfam? because, she want to make sure about her guess that Bruce Wayne is the Infamous Batman. (okay, maybe the fatui harbinger have some issues with the superheros ig). As Batman was the one who failed her mission for seeking a Hydro gem. She managed to escape of course.. (Idk, its your choice to finish the rest of it, im already fucked up to think the rest of it.)

Anyway, love your writing. I mean, the things i imagened of batfam have a crossover with genshin or hsr became true by you. I never found a writer that made such a Batfam x Genshin/Hsr/Honkai impact one like you. Maybe later make a Ada Wong! reader x Batfam? Im sorry if i have a lot things to say. Thank you for reading this shitty words of mine. Rest well, may God bless you. 💕💕💕💕💕💕

omfg i was just about to start a draft on Arlecchino reader!!! but i wanted to wait for when our dear Father is out first so I can read her story, etc.

I’ll save the bulk of my ideas/fic for when I fully know her lore but this is what I got from the story quest.

The name Arlecchino was the most people got from digging information on you.

You were this mysterious entity among the notorious Fatui Harbingers. Neither vengeful nor greedy. Nor were you ever known to actively seek out blood outside of the Tsaritsa’s orders.

Your priority has and will always been the House of Hearth. Your children. You were never too far from them.

After one of the relics your master told you to obtain was destroyed, you were to punished by being forced to help with the next acquisition. The Crown of the Pyro Clan.

You were stationed in East America. Particularly Gotham for investigation.

An ordinary Wayne Ent. office worker by the day, mafia capo causing havoc by night.

You weren’t really taking your job seriously, so you were soon caught by Gotham’s finest.

And soon after that, their obsession.

God is Tim such a great pair for Arlecchino reader tho. I already see him drooling all over them-

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getonite · 1 month

Text

YOU KNOW I LOOK TOO GOOD TO NOT BE HIDEOUS!

( synop. the voice inside of dazai's head swallows him whole ) contains. 1.8k+ wc — gn!reader ; dazai angst, hurt/comfort, best friends to lovers ( hinted ), dazai gets a hug, alcoholism, drunk!dazai, pre-ada but post-pm, mention of vomit, dazai has a panic attack + cries, implied sh scars. ( the author is back on their torturing dazai bit ; this song literally belongs to him, okay. kinda pt2 to my prev dazai fic. )

"Dazai . . . "

"Dazai."

"OSAMU!"

Dazai twitches, awakened by the familiar sound of a yelling voice. "Huh?" his voice slurs as he sits up slowly, his body clearly in pain. You sniff, groaning the thick smell of alcohol stuck in his clothes. "Don't yell, hangover . . . " he grumbles. "Or maybe I'm still drunk."

"Get up," you say firmly, looking down at his slumped body resting against the wall.

He must've been downing drinks last night, though, at least not to the point where he couldn't figure his way home. Though, it seems he couldn't get into the house as his keys are resting in his hand and he's sitting onto the concrete next to the door.

"Huh? Wha—What, I'm getting- huh?"

You sigh and loop your arm underneath his, carefully pulling him inside of the house. You carefully grab the keys and set them on the rack near the door. Dazai let's out a drunken giggle as you pat him down, making sure that everything he left with is still with him.

"You are so fucking irresponsible," you hiss, tugging Oda's coat off of his lanky body. After forcing him to sit down, you walk to the kitchen to get him a much needed glass of water.

"Oh, coooome on," he hiccups, "You love me though.

An exasperated sigh leaves your lips, "Your lucky no one found you black out drunk like that and stole your shit. Or worse, killed you." You emphasize your woods, setting the cup ( you don't trust him with a glass ) of water in front of him. "Or have you forgotten, you just left the Port Mafia?"

Dazai sucks his teeth, rolling his eyes at your statement.

After months of hiding, you'd think he'd get it. Maybe that he'd follow suit of you. Stay low, stay quiet, and say lawful. Apparently not. He can't even stay clean.

There's a thought of wanting to punch him, maybe it'll knock some sense into him you think. Taking a deep breath, you bend down, slipping off his shoes and putting them next to the door. "Drink your water, please," you grunt," I'll run you a bath."

"Mhm~!" Dazai sings. He's been mumbling and humming tunes, kicking his feet as you attempt to clean him up.

After a couple of minutes, you walk down the hallway toward him, "Alright, c'mon!" Dazai giggles, hurriedly getting up from his seat. Though you see the scene happen in slow motion. As if he had low iron ( which he probably does ), the blood rushed down towards his feet and he immediately stumbles, hanging onto the table as he tries to gain his bearings.

"Osam—" you pause when you see his puffed cheeks. You sigh and dash for the small trashcan in the bathroom and hold it below his mouth. And a second later, you hear the gross sound of vomit.

You rub his back, waiting for him to finish before you even attempt to bring him to the bathroom. You almost gag as you bring him carefully to the bathroom and strip his clothes, unraveling his bandages as well.

A wave of both guilt and disappointment passes through you as you see him flop into the filled bathtub. He's thin. New scars have appeared a top the old and ( incorrectly ) healed ones. He's too pale, his hair is back to the state it was when he first appeared, and he reeks of the bar. Even after your efforts, it seems as if you can't get him out of this slump. "Osamu . . . "

Dazai lifts his head, silently responding to your voice. All of the mumbling, sound effects, and humming are stopped as you carefully clean his skin.

"What is going on with you?" There's a deep frown on your face as you inspect his forearm. "No matter how much I try, you only clean yourself up when I make you."

"I work, you sit in a bar, come home and plop yourself on the couch without a fucking word," you hiss. Dazai flinches, though your not sure if it's your voice, or your movements. Regardless, a sense of guilt floods you and you take a deep breath.

"What is it?" You pause and look at him, "I know you're still recovering from Oda, I understand grief. But you refuse to talk about it and then drown yourself in alcohol, no matter what I do."

There's attempt to keep your voice calm and level, though he can hear it. The underlying emotions of annoyance, worry, and disbelief.

His eyes are downcast, focused on the water covering his lower half. They're dazed, pupils dilating as they stay focused on the one spot. "Osamu?" You frown, eyes flickering to study his face. Your face falls when you hear the quiet sound of his breathing.

His chest shakes as he breathing increases, his jaw shaking in an attempt to say words.

"Oh . . . Osamu," you mumble as tears swell in his eyes, rolling down his cheeks and onto the arms resting in his lap. His arm flinches at the sting of the salty tear to the cuts on them.

You carefully get into the bathtub fully clothed behind him. He feels the warmth of your skin touch his as you carefully grab onto him, holding him close with pressure on his chest from your arms. "You're alright, I promise. It's okay," you whisper. His trembling hands touch your arms.

The silent tears continue to fall, the sound of the drops hitting the water, and his ragged breathing fill the air.

"Hey," you whisper, "Can you do something for me? The bathroom is kind of bland, but can you point out 5 things you see?" Dazai gulps, your voice sounding distant despite how you're hugged to him. Nevertheless, his eyes dart around the room, he attempts to find something to grab onto to.

His jaw ticks, "The- The shampoo," he croaks. You nod with a small smile growing on your face, "Good. It's okay, try to breathe," your hand rests against his chest, feeling his rapid heartbeat. "Tell me some more . . . "

Dazai sniffs, chest stuttering rapidly, "Your— s-s- sweatpants." His grip tightens on your arm as more tears slide down his face. "That's it, can you give me another one?"

"The," he gulps, "Clock."

"Come on, you got it. Can you give me another one?"

His lips tremble, teeth clacking together in an uncomfortable pace. He sucks in a breath, vision fuzzy as he focuses on your voice. "Uhh, the toilet," he whimpers, glossy tears clouding his view before they spill. You nod, "Good job, one more."

Dazai squeezes his eyes shut before blinking, to search for something else. "Soap, the soap."

You help him attempt to breathe, "Good. Now breath, just feel the way my chest is moving."

For the next few minutes, you talk him through the 5-4-3-2-1 method until he's relaxed in your hold. The water has gone cold, and the uncomfortable feeling of wet clothes cling to your skin. "How about . . . " you start, "I clean you up, then we judge what to do hm? You just— you need a good bath and some food."

Dazai nods silently. He's not entirely in the room. His eyes are unfocused as he feels your careful hands gliding along his skin, though everything feels muffled to him, the room beginning to blur once more before your hand slightly pulls him from his disassociate state.

You pull him from the tub, drying him off, cleaning his arms and legs, wrapping his wounds in bandages, and cutting his hair again. ( Making sure he brushes his teeth )

No matter how many times he attempts to tune in on your voice, he can't do it. Nor can he focus on anything. His hands don't feel like his hands. The table doesn't feel like it's familiar texture. The room doesn't smell right. He doesn't sink into the seat correctly. And the chopsticks send tingles through his hand. None of it feels real.

He feels your warm hand touching the back of his neck. "Breathe," you whisper, "Touch it again. Hold it and breathe, it'll feel right."

His world is fuzzy, except the static quiets when you touch him. He slowly eats, the entire time with you keeping a warm hand on him.

Dazai starts to wake up as you carry him to the bed, pulling him into your embrace. There's silence throughout the room, not a sound unleashed to part the quiet atmosphere. Well, until you speak. "Osamu . . . " you whisper, fingers dancing in his head of curls as you carefully think of what to say. "I love you."

The man's eyes widen at your soft words. "No matter which way you choose to interpret that. I do."

"Which is why I have this urge to take care of you. It's what drives to clean up your empty bottles and canned food. And it drives to wonder what can I do to help you?"

Dazai gulps, his fingers entangled in the fabric of your new shirt.

"Your two years of hiding are almost over," you whisper, "Im selfish, you've known that since we were kids. So please, just promise me something. I don't need your thoughts, your feelings, nothing. Just two words."

"Hm?" Dazai looks up at you, having a feeling as to what you'll say.

"I'll sound cringe," you roll your eyes with a faint smile on your face, "but—promise me you'll tell me when you feel like your falling again. Doesn't matter how much I have to do it, I'll pick you back up. Cut your hair, change your bandages, whatever. I just—I hate seeing you like that. You just have to tell me."

Dazai remains silent, simply laying against you.

"I sorry," he whispers. You sigh, "Don't say sorry, just promise. I said I'd protect you when we were little, I mean that, even if you are older than me ( by a year ). I just need you to promise."

"I promise," he whispers.

You smile and mess with the small hairs on the back of his neck. "Good."

A faint smile appears on Dazai's face, one you can't see of course. "Well, first order of buisness," you speak. Dazai frowns, looking up at you.

"You're banned from all bars."

"Hey!" Dazai shrieks, shooting up to look down at you.

"You throw up on me, I'll kill you," you say firmly.

"Thought you were supposed to protect me," Dazai frowns, with a teasing verse.

"I can knock some sense into you."

"Asshole."

"Mhm," you hum, pulling him back on top of you, making sure he's comfortable beneath the sheets. "Also . . . " He mumbles.

"You love me?"

A couple of months later, you walk with Dazai to the four-story building of your workplace. Before the man can even open his mouth as you walk through the door, "Do not flirt with her."

Dazai whines as you drag him upstairs and to a door that reads 'Armed Detective Agency.'

A hum leaves your lips as you walk in, lugging Dazai along by his collar. Your eyes drift to a grey-haired man in traditional Japanese clothing, a green haori draped over his kimono.

You throw Dazai forward, walking to the side of him.

"President, this is the one I was talking about."

the ending was kind of ass. i think i lost the concept a bit lol. i hope you appreciate this a little. reblogs r appreciated!!

#( mission ) �� o. dazai #bsd x reader #gn reader #x gn reader #bsd fluff #bsd angst #dazai x reader #dazai x gn reader #dazai fluff #dazai angst #anime x reader #bsd dazai #bungo stray dogs #bungo stray dogs x reader

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invidiia · 11 months

Note

oh my god the yan!dazai x willing reader fic😭 i love reading this type of content (its a trauma response but the idea of someone obsessing over me brings me comfort </3)

Can you write something more for yan!dazai and reader? Like dazai somehow forgets his keys at home giving reader full access to run away/call for help, but when he comes back running to his apartment worried he sees them cooking something for him and what surprises him the most is the fact that he didn’t have most of the ingredients which means that they went outside to buy them and actually came back <3

❐ - yandere osamu dazai (bsd) with a reader who to left the house to make dinner.

note ; HII thank you for requesting!! and the beginning of the request really made me think, and i realized you were completely right and i relate deeply !! on another topic besides the request, i feel bad about writing ever since character ai came about, because what's the point of writing fics and hcs for people who can just make everything they want happen with ai?! but i'll continue, of course!! alsoo ada dazai

prompt ; dazai's beloved cooks for him after he left for the store.

warning ; kidnapping, possibly soft!yandere dazai AT FIRST, mentioned suicide (it's dazai)

masterlist - rules - previous work

when dazai finally trusts you enough to be by yourself while he went out to run errands, it was like you felt relief for the first time in years. maybe it was.

he didn't specify what he was doing, but he did seem like he would be out for a long time. but for whatever reason in the world, you didn't exactly plan to fully escape from him. maybe you were on something, because anybody else would have went as far as they could.

dazai kissed the top of your top of your head affectionately. "my dear," he addressed to you, his voice sweet, just like every other time he spoke. "i have to run errands, okay? can you promise me that you'll be good while i'm gone?" dazai rested his head on top of yours, holding you closely to his chest in a tight hug. you nodded your head against him, and he smiled. "i'll be off now, my love." and with that, dazai walked out the door, completely forgetting his keys on the table.

maybe you were drugged, high or some kind of intoxicated, because anyone would be overjoyed to see that their kidnapper left their keys with them, and they'd try to leave! i mean, dazai was normally cautious - how stupid of him this evening.

but for just some reason, any reason in the world, you didn't leave the house for freedom. instead it was for.. groceries? dazai did feed you often, but it was usually food from a local place that he liked a lot more than cooking, hence the reason there were barely any ingredients to make dinner with.

maybe you were doing this to gain trust and then turn your back on him later? well, it was too late, dazai left the keys here, and you were free to escape. so the first place you decided to go? the grocery store.

walking through the produce isle, you turned your head anxiously, looking behind your back to see if dazai found out you left and followed you. but no one was there, not at all. you were safe.

you gathered up money from inside your pockets when the man first took you - enough to buy a couple vegetables, a bag of rice, and a bit of chicken. that was enough for tonight!

upon your return to the apartment, nobody was there, so you got to work, having not been caught by dazai on your little outing to the store.

it was pretty easy to make fried rice. you found yourself in the kitchen chopping vegetables to put into the frying pan while you seasoned the chicken. dazai didn't have a ton of seasoning in his cabinets.. guess this guy liked his stuff plain? but you worked with what you had, and you were able to make a pretty damn good plate of chicken fried rice. the meal was perfect, and you had just finished when the door opened up. it was dazai. the brunette man opened up the door rather quickly, slipping inside the apartment. "belladonna.. this smells amazing!"

dazai was quick to praise your cooking, even telling you that he didn't want to eat your masterpiece in hopes of ruining it, but you told him to sit down and just eat it.

and that he did, and he loved it! he didn't act like anything was wrong, it went perfect! he praised your cooking skills the entire time while he ate.

even you forgot that you snuck out to retrieve your ingredients!

"belladonna," dazai spoke, sweetly. you were both nearing the end of the meal, with just two bites of the food left on the plate. "your cooking is absolutely perfect, you know that? i almost forgot that we didn't have any vegetables in the house." you tensed up. this was such a stupid idea, sneaking out to get ingredients for your meal. "i found those in the cabinet, you brought them home one night. don't you remember?" you lied nervously, biting up the inside of your mouth while you just silently begged he would believe you. "i would never think about willingly buying bell peppers unless i planned to cook such a meal. why would you leave the apartment, dear?" dazai slid his chair back, stepping towards you with his hands in his pockets. this was stupid, a stupid mistake that you can't undo. "no matter.. you didn't run away.. so what am i to do with you?" he grabbed a lock of your hair, pulling it upwards so you could face him. you cried out, whimpering in pain - but he paid no attention to it, looking you in the eye. "let's see."

#klya..requests #yandere dazai x reader #yandere dazai #tw yandere #yandere dazai osamu #yandere bsd x reader #yandere bsd #bsd x reader #yandere osamu dazai #yandere osamu dazai x reader

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peakyltd · 1 year

Note

Hi Daisy, I've come to request a John fic with the fluff prompt ❛ do you think the moon is jealous of how pretty you are? ❜( If you feel inspired, of course!) It seems like a line he would use!

Thank you for your request Lee! 🥰 This line really is something John would say, I already saw that cheeky little grin in my mind.

A/N: I wrote it pretty quickly but then I had some trouble with the flow of the story. I feel like it might not completely live up to what I wrote before. So if that's the case, I'm sorry. Anyway I hope you still like and enjoy it. I certainly did have a lot of fun writing John, it reminded me how much I love his character!

Warnings: Swearing. A few rude comments on Linda? Nothing serious. Other than that it's just pure fluff.

Word count: 2002

Family Dinner

"Please remind me that if you ever want to have a family dinner at our house again, that I'll say no." John mumbles in her ear as he wraps his arms around her waist. "Why?" (Y/N) giggles, looking up at him.

They’re both standing in the kitchen as (Y/N) is finishing up the home made dinner. It was her idea to invite his family but it took her some time to convince John.

"It's pure chaos and Linda is pissing me off with her nagging." He answers her, chewing on this toothpick. "John, you can't say that." She chided, eyeing his family who were sat at the table. The distant was big enough for them not to hear John complaining.

"Oh c'mon (Y/N), don't act like you don't think the same thing." He says as he takes her chin gently between his fingers, turning her face back to him.

As their eyes meet, she can't help but laugh. "See? This is exactly what I mean." John laughs. "I really hope Arthur will grow his balls b-" (Y/N) cuts John off by putting her hand on his mouth, shushing him. "Ssh!" She whispers as she lowers her hand.

"Can I help you with the food (Y/N)?" Linda asks as she approaches the kitchen. "Oh no you don't have to Linda, I'm almost finished. It will come right up"

"It's really no bother." She smiles. "Thank you but it's all set, John will be our waiter tonight." (Y/N) jokes, earning a chuckle from Linda. John, on the other hand, rolls his eyes as he turns to the counter. He takes the toothpick out of his mouth and cuts off some of the meat (Y/N) made.

"If you change your mind, I'll be right there." Linda points at the empty chair next to Arthur. (Y/N) smiles at her. "I appreciate it, Linda." She answers. Watching the woman return to her seat.

(Y/N) hears a deep sigh coming from behind her. "It's no bother" He imitates her. "To me it is." John adds while eating some meat. She pushes playfully against his shoulder. "John."

"I'm right there." He imitates her again. "As if she just came walking in, she's already sitting there for hours."

"John please." (Y/N) chuckles. "She means well. What has she done to you?"

John leans against the counter. "She has to fucking comment on everything someone says or does. As of right now yeah, Arthur just had a drink or two too many. He’s not even pissed yet but she keeps asking him if it's really a good idea to take more whiskey." He sighs frustratedly. "I know I need more whiskey if I need to listen to her any longer."

(Y/N) places her hands on his cheeks and pulls him closer to her. "Try to let it go for tonight, okay? They're both adults and if Arthur has had enough of it, he'll let her know." "He won't." He defends.

"Lets just enjoy the night." She adds as she kisses him softly. "Okay?" "Hm 'kay" John mumbles against her lips as he puts his hands on her waist, pulling her in for another kiss.

The dinner went well, the Shelby's enjoyed the fresh made food and the drinks were flowing. John had visibly relaxed and was slumped back in his seat, laughing at the conversation he was having with his brothers and cousin.

The kids were running in and out of the house, hopefully getting rid of their last energy of the day before going to bed. Ada was talking to Linda and Polly watched the family, a pleased smile on her face.

(Y/N) went back into the kitchen to get her selfmade pudding. She was excited about the dessert ever since the day she knew his family came over for dinner. It was her favorite and she loved to make it. She added some strawberries on top before taking it back to the table.

Before she could even reach the table, the kids came running in, chasing each other. A shout of John could be heard but it was too late, a few of them bumped into (Y/N). The sudden impact caused her to drop the pudding.

A loud gasp comes from her mouth. “Oh no…” She watches it splash apart, leaving it all over the floor. Disappointment filling her features.

“What have I said about no fucking running around the kitchen! Look what you've done!" John bellows as he stands up, the children immediately apologize. "Sorry mom." "Yes sorry aunt (Y/N)."

She sighs. "It's okay. Don't worry about it. Be careful next time, yeah?" They nod. "Now go back outside." John adds strictly, glaring at the kids. He made sure they were out of sight before he made his way to the kitchen.

"I'm so sorry." She apologizes to his family. "Don't be sorry, love. We've had already more than enough." Polly smiles at her. "We'll come back for pudding another time."

(Y/N) nods, wiping the remains of her dress. "Here let me help you." A voice came from behind her. John got a few towels for her to clean her dress and helped her to tidy the mess on the floor.

Once they were finished she sat back down in her chair. Feeling better after John’s attempts to cheer her up.

Rumbling was heard from the kitchen as John appeared with two bottles of whiskey in his hands. He lifted them above his head, a big grin on his lips. “I got a new dessert!” He cheered. A sigh coming from (Y/N)’s lips. “Oh god…”

As their evening came to an end, (Y/N) and John said their goodbyes to his family. Their exit was as chaotic as their entrance. Arthur was too drunk and had to be helped into the car by Tommy and Finn. Which resulted in John having tears rolling down his cheeks from laughter and a very annoyed Linda.

When Tommy told John to "shut his fucking mouth or he would help to do so" it caused Arthur to have his own fit of uncontrollable giggles. A lot of shouting and more laughter had followed until Polly and Ada finally managed to get everyone in their cars. As soon as the cars drove out of the drive way, peace had returned.

John wiped the tears off his face. "Did you see his face? Bloody idiot." He started laughing again. "I don’t want to know how they will get him out of the car." (Y/N) giggles. "I would leave him there. He can get out by himself in the morning." He chuckles.

As his laughter calmed down he took a deep breath. "I have to admit that I enjoyed this night more than I thought I would." "I'm glad you did." She beams at him as she pulls him in for a hug, leaning her head against his chest.

John strokes her hair and kisses the top of her head. While he is looking at the garden, an idea pops up in his head.

"Shall I light the fire pit? The weather is still lovely and I wouldn’t mind to spend some time alone with you." He offers. (Y/N) looks up at him. "Oh yes, I would love that. I'll quickly check on the children, I hope they didn't wake up from all the noise."

"Alright." He gives her a quick kiss, leaving her smiling. He collects some branches and makes his way to the fire place.

Once upstairs (Y/N) checks the bedrooms of their children. She finds them sound asleep, as if nothing happened. All of them too tired from their eventful night.

As (Y/N) arrives back outside, John was already sat in front of the fire. A whiskey in his hand and a new toothpick in his mouth. “They’re still sleeping.” She tells him. "I’m glad." He says as he gets up.

"Do I need to get your coat?" "No I'm fine, it's still warm enough." She assures him. "I did get you a blanket." He points at the chair next to his, a blanket hanging on the back of the chair.

She smiles at his gesture. "Thank you, John." She says, sitting down. The fire warms her skin immediately. "I got your wine." John sits next to her, showing her the bottle and filling her glass. "You're such a gentleman, John Shelby."

He chuckles as he hands her the glass. "Of course I am." He answers, putting the bottle down next to him. (Y/N) takes a sip of her drink, leaning back against the chair. The blanket had already warmed up by the fire, making her feel at ease. She takes a deep breath as she looks over the meadow next to their house.

John mimics her and watches the fire. The reflection of the flames dancing on his face. "Aren't we lucky?" She asks, looking at him. "I know I am, I have the most beautiful woman in the world." He grins at her. She blushes lightly at his comment. "Are you flirting with me?" She chuckles.

"Maybe." He smirks at her. "Is it working?" "It already worked a while ago." She jokes. (Y/N) grabs his hand, she softly strokes it with her thumb. John squeezes hers gently. "But yes, it is working." She admits.

A peaceful silence fell over them as they're both sipping on their drinks. As the flames become smaller, John put extra woodblocks and branches in the fire pit. He catches (Y/N) staring at the sky. He looks up as well, gazing at the moon and many stars that were visible this night.

"Do you think the moon is jealous of how pretty you are?" He asks (Y/N) as he looks at her, a cheeky grin on his face. She shifts her gaze to him. "My god John." She giggles, hiding her face in her hands. John laughs as he grabs her hands and pulls her up from her chair.

"Don't hide that pretty face of yours." He chuckles. He sneaks his arms around her and pulls her closer. (Y/N) wraps her arms around his neck, brushing her fingers over the short hair on the back of his head.

"I do think the moon is jealous of how pretty you are." John confesses to her as he looks into her eyes. "Nothing compares to you. Not even the moon."

(Y/N) blushes, admiring John’s face. "I love you so much." "I love you too, darling." He tells her as he moves his face closer to hers.

"Before you kiss me, please let me do this." She whispers, earning a confused look from John. (Y/N) takes the toothpick out of his mouth and throws it into the fire.

"Oh." He chuckles. "I don't think it would add much good." She smiles. "You never know, maybe you're into it." He jokes. (Y/N) can't help but giggle at his stupid joke.

“You make me the happiest, John.” She tells him, her voice soft. “Imagine how you make me feel.” John grins at her.

He moves his face closer to hers again. His breath fanning her face. (Y/N) feels the butterflies in her stomach, they're giving her a giddy feeling. She gently pulls him closer until their lips connect.

The kiss starts off soft but steadily becomes heated as they're exploring each others mouth. One of John's hand slowly lowers until he stops on her butt, gently grabbing ahold of it. He grins as she let out a soft moan. Her fingers are tangled in his hair as her other hand rests on his neck, wanting more.

John slowly breaks this kiss, breathing heavily. "I can't get enough of you." He breathes out as he strokes her cheek with his thumb. (Y/N) smiles at him, catching her own breath. "We don't have to stop yet." She teases him. "I wasn't planning on doing so." He smirks as he pulls her in for another passionate kiss.

One of many they would share that night.

#john shelby one shot #john shelby drabble #john shelby imagine #peaky blinders drabble #john shelby x reader

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chuuyasheaven · 7 months

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“Cockwarminʼ Cuddles”— Atsushi Nakajima

“Working at the agency has the both of you exhausted, mentally and physically. After another stressful day, you and Atsushi wanted to cuddle— nothing more. But during the session, you both realized you were yearning for each other, so you came up with another idea.”

Tags: soft! Atsushi Nakajima / afab! Reader, soft sex, lazy sex, pet names, praising kink, cockwarming, cuddling, ADA! Reader, pw/op, might contain grammar errors, lazy, rushed, SHORT, etc.

Notes: I'M SO SORRY GUYS I GOT SICKKK. I know there's like two fics/drabbles lacking, but I'll be catching up, i swear! First, let me try and finish this week. Also school started again, and since this is my last and important year i might fall behind the schedule.. But let's continue!! XD

Finally, the day was over and you both could relax. Since last week, the agency has picked up a lot of missions, which were stressing the both of you out. Opon coming home, Atsushi only wanted to hold you in his arms, and so did you. But when you actually got to lay down, getting really close to him and all, you could tell that Atsushi wanted more than just cuddle. Realizing that you guys didn't do anything sexual since last week. You really wanted to do something, but at the same time, you didn't, so you guys came up with a small adjustment.

Right now, your head was resting on his chest, while Atsushi's cock rested inside of you, cockwarming him. Even though you really wanted to move, you didn't. This was relaxing to you to just lay there without doing anything. Hell, you literally could've fallen asleep with how chill this was. But Atsushi, he was slightly struggling with this. He wanted to move desperately, but he needed to relax. "Does it. . feel good?", he asked you quietly, you nodded. You moved a little to adjust yourself to your liking, only to feel Atsushi twitch inside you. "S–shit. .", he hissed, this was torturous but also felt good as hell. He was resisting to but even so, he could be cumiming without doing so. Atsushi was trying to hold it in, but you felt him already leaking. Now you had the urge to move your hips to feel him cum.

Suddenly, Atsushi held your waist, moving you himself. This made you moan in surprise as he continued, slowly finding a rhythm. You were really close despite him just getting started. “A–atsushi. .”, you whimpered quietly, Atsushi was just breathing heavily. Soon enough, you reached your climax. You tried to calm down, but Atsushi kept going, holding your leg in his hand and thrusting into your cunt. All this time you guys never switched the position. “Good girl,”, he choked out, feeling his first orgasm get closer, while you were close to your second.

“You feel so good around me, darling. .”, he huffed, you kept on moaning while praise was falling off Atsushi's lips, those same lips which were kissing you right now. Slightly speeding up, your second climax was approaching faster. “I–i'm close,”, you gasped, as Atsushi rocked his hips against yours. “I love you, baby.”, he whispered when he finally came inside of you. “Me too,”, You responded while gushing around his cock for a second time. “I love you so much, Atsu.”, you finished off, calming down from your orgasm.

“—Do you wanna keep going or do you want to keep cuddling?”

this is so cringe and embarrassing, so i will add my taglist later on. Besides, CHUUYA WILL BE HOME SOON !!

#Rei's Kinktober 2023 !! ❤️#atsushi bsd #bsd smut #bungo stray dogs smut #atsushi smut #atsushi nakajima #bsd atsushi

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msbigredmachine · 3 months

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💖Beginners' Guide to MsBigRedMachine's Fanfics💖

Thank you once again to two of my faves @southerngirl41 and @harmshake for the tags!

Intro: I'm Ada! I write fanfiction mainly for Roman Reigns, but I expanded to Jey Uso and now I've added his twin Jimmy, lol. Also have a Samoa Joe fic lurking somewhere.

Pairings: As you'll see in my masterlist, ALL my OCs are Black women. Dark skin, light skin, caramel, slim, big...all beautiful Black baddies. Also, being Nigerian, I aim to incorporate more Nigerian names in my fics too. Sorry, I don't do slash of any kind. I've been asked before and it's just not my thing.

Warnings: Smut, angst, drama, more smut. No one under the age of 18 should read my stuff or interact with me on it, or you'll be outed without hesitation.

So where to start reading...?

---

My first fic: My first-ever one was actually an RVD fic called Shattered Rose that I never finished, when white women were my OCs. I know wayyyy better now😬

My longest fic: My first baby, Into The Deep End. March 6, 2024 will make it ten years since I first published it on another platform. I worked so hard on it as a stress reliever when I was studying for my Masters, and to know that it still gets so much love on all the sites I've posted it on truly warms my heart. Targets is my second-longest, I really enjoyed that one too.

My shortest fic: Definitely Wait For You. Marian tagged me in a "Seven Sentence" challenge and this was the result. I'm terrible with <1000 word fics and it was truly a challenge, lol.

My most popular fic: So, there's three answers. Overall, Into The Deep End for sure. But for my one-shots, I still get messages and quotes about Power Couple (Roman/OC) and On Sight (Jey Uso/OC) to this day.

My personal fave fic: Lol this answer changes all the time. They're all my babies, I really can't choose. Each time I re-read one, I fall in love with it.

---

💖About me💖

30+, a qualified lawyer/attorney by profession. I've been writing all sorts of stuff since I was a child. There's something about putting your imagination down on paper that is so liberating and I really enjoy it. Maybe one day I will have the courage to actually publish something.

I've been posting my fics on tumblr for years now. I'm truly happy to have met such great authors along the way, and I appreciate all the likes, reblogs and especially the amazing comments and feedback. Forgive me for all my late responses, work and Nigeria's WAT time zone messes me up lol.

Thank you all again, and enjoy!

Click here if you're not yet on my tag list and you want to be added.

---

Again, tagging everyone: @jxtina-86 @wrestlingprincess80 @southerngirl41 @alyyaanna @squishyguishy @jstarr86 @murrylove @thewarlordsworld @mzv11 @cozyaliensuperstar7 @nayys-world @hunnidmilly @cyberdejos2 @papireigns-05 @niknakbucks92 @captainwithoutmakingitlove @sovereigngoth @aisharmi @kennedi0818 @alichesmi @thesamoanqueen @herwickedlittlesins @harmshake @fame-ass-ers@questionable-behaviour @tribalchiefreigns @2-muchsauce @thatbxtchsblog @raya-hunter01 @marchi36753 @lovelysuccess @christinabae @wooahmiri @thatonecarebear @tabletheofhead @rheaanddamianfan @vebner37 @hanley1577 @princessesareforsuckers @-naturally @joannasteez @bbygirlky18 @lilucey @theninthwonder @melaninsugababy @chocovibesonly @msbluehaz3 @scarlettnoir01 @heerah34 @empressdede @tbmotw @darkangelchronicles @visionarymode @marasdeathnote @aintnorainbows @meggylynnloves @shantinextdoor @harlemblipster @trc-punzel @afterdarkprincess @nbanenefrmdao @sassginaswanmills @purplehairgawdess @holisticcoach @girlwhogaf @royalkay23 @heyitsnajabrinee @stoner2k @reci1996 @catxo @iamimanim @lookmais @ts1mp0ne @shonny09 @lizzyd1ish @gomussy @m3llowww @skyesthebomb @final1miya

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dennisboobs · 8 months

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i need to chew on dennis

#me when im charlie kelly #ada speaks #i need to rewatch the entire series from the start again #i have multiple fic and edit ideas but im like. i cant. i have to finish my WIPs #so it just makes me want to chew him more

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glitch-karma · 1 year

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Hi there! If requests are still opened, i'd love to make one :o (although it's a bit lengthy, so if you don't want to do it I understand!!)

TW for s**cide mentions from here forward btw! (common with any dazai fic, lolz)

I'd love to request a dazai x reader (fem or gn will work!) where he asks reader to commit double suicide with him, and to literally everyone's shock, they agree! So the agency (mainly kunikida and atsushi) have to repeatedly sabatoge their attempts, and during that time, the two start to get to know eachother better and grow closer whilst they aren't plotting their own demises. Eventually dazai starts to fall for them, but one day reader tries to attempt on their own life solo due to being unable to handle the pains and pressures of life anymore. Ofc they were rescued just in time, but it made him realize that he wants to see reader safe and happy, and that he had finally found his reason to live through his love for them. Extra points if he confesses his love at some point and reader accepts!!

Sorry if this was rant-y, i'm a huge sucker for angst to comfort :P either way tho, i hope you have a lovely rest of your day/night!

THIS RIGHT HERE IS A BEAUTIFUL STORY OH MY!!!!

-F!Y/n

-Y/n is a new worker at the Cafe under the ADA

-MAJOR SUICIDE WARNING!! (Including but not limited to: Blood, pills, self-harm, etc..) I am a sucker for graphic detail so you have been warned

-Also warning for puke

-Reader is kinda based off of Mafuyu from Project Sekai cause I said so (Btw pjsk simps gonna open up reqs for them when they become open again‼️)

-also reader has dull eyes cause anime logic

I did probably a concerning amount of research on suicide, (Plus looked for so long for Dazai's stupid lil book) for this so I hope you enjoy!

_____

Break time at the Armed detective agency usually means having some coffee at their favorite cafe. As the group sat down Dazai was glancing around when his eyes caught the sight of the new waitress waiting next to a barista Dazai frequently flirted with. The girl had semi-messy h/c colored hair, her eyes a dull e/c. Her features framed her face so beautifully. Dazai's mouth curled into a smirk as he stared at her. Kunikida caught wind and immediately irked. "Dazai.."

As the waitress approached the table, Dazai read the name stage reading "Y/n". He smiled as she stopped at their table. Before she could get a word out Dazai grabbed her hand in his. "Such soft hands.. And beautiful eyes as well. Would you, Belladona, do me the honors of accompanying me to a double suicide?"

WHACK

Dazai was now lying on the floor, as Kunikida brushed himself off. "I'm so sorry Ma'am, he's always like this-" Atsushi apologized as Y/n leaned down to the man on the floor. "I'd gladly join a double suicide." She smiled down at him.

. . .

"WHAT!?!"

"Really!?!" Dazai yelled as he stood up, grabbing Y/n's hand again. Y/n chuckled as she nodded at him. "I get off at 6. You work in this building correct? I'll meet you on the roof." "Yes yes, that sounds wonderful~!"

Everyone at the table stared shell-shocked as Y/n takes their order normally like nothing just happened. As dazai kicked his legs in his own little world, Kunikida Atsushi and Junichiro all stared at each other in concern. Kunikida pulled them behind a menu quickly.

"As much as I'd love to let that dimwitt meet his end, we need him and that girl to stay alive. It isn't right letting a young lady with so much life in her die with that blasted Dazai." Kunikida sighed. Atsushi and Junichiro nodded in sync.

"Once Dazai leaves to meet her we should follow them," Atsushi whispered. Junichiro hummed in agreement. "It's decided then." Junichiro finished. The three quickly separated from the menu as Y/n walked over and set down their drinks. As she walked away dazai starstruck-ingly called out; "See you tonight Madameeee~". Y/n peeked over her shoulder, smiling at him. Dazai felt his heart flutter a bit at those beautifully dull eyes.. They seemed to draw him in for more.

...

As Dazai whipped open the doors to the building roof, he caught sight of the lady ready to accompany him with his final dance. Her hair was gently blowing in the warm Yokohama breeze as she stared off into the sky. What was she looking at? Dazai didn't know. But her eyes looked so sickeningly dull in that moment. But still, so beautiful..

"I'm pleasantly surprised to see you here! I was concerned you agreed simply to make me leave you alone." The dark-eyed man said, leaning next to her. "I'd never joke about suicide. Such a beautiful ending to a sick existence." Y/n spoke lowly. In the cafe, she had a sort of customer voice, but there was no trace of it here. Dazai smirked a bit at this.

"I should let you know now, I'm not interested in pain. I don't know exactly what you're into though.." Dazai teased her. "Pain is not something I'm looking for either. Just a quick ending."

Dazai chuckled, quickly whipping out his little red book. "Suffocation, Hanging, Poisoning, Shooting, Jumping," He read off as Y/n stared at him. Only blinking in response. "All the ideas you could storm up are right here in this very book."

"Ah! What a glorious book,, if I wasn't planning on dying I'd buy a copy.." Y/n smiled lightly. "But.." she continued, grabbing the book and shutting it quickly. "I'd like to try jumping first."

With a quick grab of Dazai's shirt, the two were suddenly falling off the roof of the building. Y/n shut her eyes, waiting for the end of it all.

Poof.

The two landed on a bunch of garbage bags stacked up on each other. Y/n quickly sat up in disappointment as Dazai lay on the ground is fear and confusion. "Dang."

Dazai suddenly bursted into laughter. Y/n hummed, turning to him. "What's so funny?" Dazai wiped a tear from his eye as he sat up too. "You're the most forward suicidal girl I've ever met, my dear Y/n." He chuckled. Y/n blushed lightly before standing up.

"No matter.. We'll try again. Tomorrow. You can choose the method." She smiled at him. Dazai chuckled as he stood, lending her a hand up as he did so. "It's a date." He joked.

. .

"GAHHHH I THOUGHT WE WEREN'T GONNA MAKE IT." "Oh be quiet Atsushi, my Ideals were almost perfect."

There were the secret team, two sweaty messes, and one writing vigorously in his notebook. The three had watched Dazai enter the roof before running down to prepare in case they jumped, finishing just before they did.

"This might be a long couple of days.." Junichiro said quietly.

...

Day 2

"Oiiiii! Y/n dear!" Dazai yelled as he entered the roof. "Ah, hello Dazai." the girl lightly smiled. "What will we be doing today?"

Time after time,

Day 3

"Oh, Y/n you're here late! Well? Shall we begin?"

Attempt after attempt,

Week 3

"Dazai! Hurry we'll miss the train!" "Yes yes, my dear!"

The two met almost every day.

Month 2

The two had been testing the faith of this world as they attempted suicide again and again. Slowly, Dazai started to see something he hadn't before. Something fluttered in his chest..

The way she gets so distracted, the way she turned to yell at him when he took a joke too far, the way her nose scrunched up in such a way, those eyes.. Those beautifully dull eyes.

What was this feeling in Dazai's chest?

As Dazai thought intensely at his desk the others in the office grew worried. "What's up with Dazai today?" Atsushi mumbled. "I'm not sure.. I've never seen him think this much before."

"It's so clear what his problem is." Ranpo mumbled as he sucked on a loli. Dazai's head shot up immediately. "You know what this feeling is in my chest!? Please, explain Ranpo! Have I been poisoned? Is it fatal? Will I finally die? I can't die without Y/n."

Ranpo sighed as he bit off the lollipop. "No nothing of the sort, you're simply in love with that cafe waitress."

...

"Did he really just say that in front of us all!?"

Everyone at the agency thought in shock. Dazai's eyes were wide as he stared at Ranpo. His cheeks were flushed as he pondered the idea. The great Dazai? In love?

"This feeling in my chest.." He thought in shock. "That's a heart by the way," Ranpo smirked at the flustered Dazai. Dazai looked down for a moment, before springing up. He slammed his fist down loudly."This is..."

"Truly wonderful!!"

Dazai yelled as he pranced around the office. The majority of the group stared in dismay as he did so. "Ah, how perfect! I'm in love with the person I plan to meet my end with! We can plan a lovelier more passionate suicide now! How beautiful!"

"I should go confess right away! We can begin planning for our end together!" Dazai screamed with giddy as he threw his jacket on quickly. Ranpo's eyes scrunched together lightly as he thought. "You should go quickly, Dazai." He said as Dazai flung open the door.

"Will do!" Dazai yelled, running down the stairs to the cafe. As he opened the doors, he inhaled the lovely aroma of coffee before calling out. "Y/n my dear! I need to tell you something import-"

To Dazai's dismay, Y/n was nowhere to be seen in the cafe. He blinked a few times before walking towards one of the other workers. "Is Y/n here?" He asked with a hand covering his face.

"Ah, I'm sorry Dazai she didn't come in for her shift this morning.." The barista explained. Dazai's head popped up in surprise. "Uh, really?"

"Mhm, She didn't call in either. It's unlike her. She usually at least gives a call if she's gonna be late." The girl explained. Dazai's eyes furrowed as he thought.

"You should go quickly, Dazai."

Dazai's eyes shot open as he stared at the ground for a moment. "No.."

"Uh, Dazai?" The barista asked him. Dazai turned quickly, running out of the cafe in a hurry. His breath grew ragged as he ran quickly. He stopped in front of a familiar apartment complex to breathe. He then quickly ran in, ignoring the calls from a front desk worker. He sprinted and sprinted as he burst into Y/n's bedroom. "Y/n!" He screamed.

His eyes quickly scanned the room, finding it neatly tidied instead of the mess it was when he first visited her here. He then noticed the bathroom door shut tightly, while steam lightly flowed out of it. He ran to the door, trying the handle only to find it locked.

"Y/n!" He yelled, banging on the door. No answer. Dazai backed up quickly, before slamming his shoulder into the door, causing it to fly off its hinges. He looked up from the floor, seeing the sight he wanted to stop.

(Last major TW before we continue.)

Y/n laid in the bathtub fully clothed. The water from the faucet flowed continually, causing the room to fill with steam. A bottle of some unmarked pills laid on the bathroom floor, followed by a knife of which she'd used to make her wrist bleed. The fresh red liquid had been used to fill a small vile next to her.

Dazai quickly stood up, stopping the water before reaching his hands into the hot water. He wrapped his arms around Y/n's figure, lifting her up into his arms before placing her on the floor gently. He quickly ran to the medicine cabinet, grabbing a cotton swab and a roll of bandages.

He ran back to her fast, checking her pulse before sticking the cotton swab deep into her throat repeatedly until a steady stream of fresh puke left her lips. He pulled her into his arms as she came to, putting pressure on her wrist. Y/n's head felt fuzzy as she looked up at him. "Dazai.."

"Ah, you're conscious. Please stay awake, and don't move too much." Dazai whispered lowly. Y/n's head fog cleared as she came to. Realizing she'd been saved.

"No.." She mumbled as hot tears began to form. She suddenly became enraged. "Why you of all people.." "Y/n?"

"I thought you understood.. I just want to disappear from this world. Don't you get it?"

"I want to save you. I want to live with you, even if it's only for a bit before we depart together. There's still so much I don't know about you. Y/n, I-"

"Stop it!!" Y/n screamed, kicking Dazai away. "Don't you dare say it! What can you do? You may save me for a bit, you may make me feel happy for a short while, but then what!? One day it won't work anymore! And I'll want to die again!"

She was shouting.

"That's why this is all too much! Just let me have a clean death alone! You're so selfish for even coming here and spouting that bull shit!"

Without even realizing it, Y/n was shouting.

"I'm tired..! I'm so tired of thinking there's hope! Tired of waiting, finding something close, then watching it disappear! I'll never find what I'm looking for! I'll... I'll never truly be saved! Don't you see Dazai!?"

Dazai's eyes stayed still as he watched the girl scream.

"I'm so tired.. So tired.! Don't let me despair anymore.. Just let me rot."

The silence in the room was sickening. No one dared move.

Until Dazai broke the silence by cackling. Y/n sniffled confused as she stared at him. "I just keep seeing new sides of you Y/n.. You really are sickeningly complicated." He smirked at her as he inched closer.

Dazai's lips suddenly slammed into Y/n's. The girl's eyes opened wide as she stared at him. After a few seconds, dazai pulled away, a small string of saliva trailing behind. He licked his lips lightly before speaking:

"You called me selfish for saving you.." Dazai spoke before leaning close to Y/n's ear. "But I'm an incredibly greedy man my dear.."

Y/n's face flushed more as Dazai grabbed her wrist, wrapping her wound up tightly. "Even if it takes me saving you a thousand times, I'll do it all over again. So we can have the perfect suicide together."

Y/n breathes in shakily as Dazai kisses her hand gently.

"So, let's try this again. Y/n, my dear. I'm in love with you. Will you join me, in living and dying in this life?"

Dazai's words brought more tears into Y/n's eyes as she nodded lightly.

"Yes."

-Fin-

#bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs #bsd #bsd fanfic #bungo stray dogs x reader #dazai x reader #dazai osamu #osamu dazai #dazai osamu x reader #glitchs✧works

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roseglazedlens · 8 months

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⦑ 𝐑𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐄𝐯𝐢𝐥 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐁𝐨𝐛𝐚 𝐎𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫 ⦒ [ part two ]

read part one here (leon kennedy, rebecca, chris, ashley, carlos & ada) read the 'boba tea date' fic here (leon kennedy x gn! reader) characters: ethan winters, jill valentine, jack krauser & claire redfield a/n: part two, because i really want to write about ethan!! content: SFW

ETHAN WINTERS

Doesn't have a preference, he would just get the same thing as you, and tags along every time without fussing because you wanted to get some

I feel like he likes to match drinks

But you hate it - you want him to order something different so you can have both drinks.

He considers this idea, because he wants to tease you a little by denying the drink from you.

But he will let you have your way anyway, because you look too cute with your cheeks lightly puffed when you sip through the straw.

will kiss you on the cheek as you're sipping - he has no self control and wants to kiss you all the time

JILL VALENTINE

Pearl milk tea - never gets any modifications because she likes to enjoy drinks as they are intended.

Not into fancy flavours, she tried the pearl milk tea once, likes it, and doesn't feel the need to change.

Even if the bobarista messes up her order, she would just take it and drink it without making a fuss

She never finishes a large drink, but still gets it anyway.

JACK KRAUSER

Orders coffee at the bubble tea shop 💀💀 and usually black too.

You didn't even know they do coffees here.

The flavours, toppings are too complicated for him.

But I see him branching out to lemon green tea (I headcanon him for liking lemon) with a few dashes of honey

CLAIRE REDFIELD

Doesn't have a regular drink she goes for - always experimenting with flavours, even sugar/ice levels!

She would always gets toppings though - lychee and mango popping pearls are her favourites!

I can imagine her going to Chris in her youngers years and ask:

"Can you get me bubble tea?" She would ask Chris as he's putting his shoes on, ready to leave.

"Get it yourself, you lazy bum." He would say. But when Chris returns, he would kick down her door, wordlessly placing the drink on her table, giving her the middle finger, before leaving.

(I love their sibling dynamics)

thanks for reading! come check out my other works. ––yours truly, rose. tags: @valsthea @sporeghost @emilzke © roseglazedlens - please do not repost, plagiarise, or feed to ai.

#꒰✏️ rose requests ♡.*꒱#ethan winters x reader #ethan winters #jack krauser #jill valentine #claire redfield #resident evil headcanons #resident evil imagines #resident evil imagine #resident evil fluff #resident evil #꒰💫 rose headcanons ♡.꒱

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vintagepresley · 11 months

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My Happiness

Pairing: Elvis Presley x Reader

Word Count: 4,897

Warnings: None really. Mentions of postpartum depression, reader has a bit of a break down. But other than that mostly fluffy and cute!

Author's Notes: Hi besties. I've been loving dad!Elvis lately and just wanted to finish this fic and get it out. This is a little flashback to when Ada was only a few weeks old and seeing how the reader and Elvis are dealing with being new parents. I hope you enjoy it! Possible spelling errors. (P.S. I’m aware these photos are from 68’ and obviously don’t match his look in 1970, but I needed pics of him with baby, lol.)

March 8th, 1970

It had been two weeks since you’ve been in the hospital because you had refused to leave Ada alone, who had to stay so the doctors could make sure she was okay because of her being born so soon and the doctor was finally discharging her. Elvis couldn’t be happier but he was still so worried and concerned about you and your well being. You were doing a little better whenever you got be with Ada, but there were still days where you weren’t yourself mentally. He was doing his best to tend to you and make sure you were okay. He wanted to cancel the rest of his shows at the international to be with his family, but the colonel was not happy about that and made a deal with Elvis that if he performed at least five shows he’d be allowed to cancel the rest. Elvis, feeling like he had no choice, agreed. He certainly wasn’t going to leave you with the responsibility of caring for the baby on your own, so he rented a bus just like the old days and planned to drive to Vegas from California just in case you needed to stop to get anything for the baby and to make things easier for the two of you.

Your mother had gone out and bought some diapers, onesies and a few other things for the baby to last for your small trip to Vegas until you got home. As the guys took some of your things out to the bus, you were getting Ada changed and dressed in her little onesie. She was only two weeks old and so tiny and slept all the time that you tried to be careful not to wake her. Elvis stood beside you, watching with a smile as Ada wiggled a little. You felt Elvis slip his arms around you and you gave him a small smile. Elvis pressed a kiss to your cheek as his chin rested on your shoulder and he stared down at the little baby you both created.

“I can’t believe I had a hand in makin’ this beautiful baby.” he mumbled.

You smiled at his words.

“And she’s absolutely perfect.” you whispered. Elvis nodded in agreement giving your cheek another soft kiss.

“Can you get her little blanket for me, honey?” you asked, pointing to the chair that had some of her things.

“Course, baby.” He walked over to the chair and grabbed her blanket, handing it to you and you smiled, laying it on the bed and then carefully lifting her up in your arms and laying her on the blanket and then you swaddled her in it and took her into your arms, cradling her. She cooed softly as her little head moved side to side and her eyes stayed closed. Despite how awful you felt physically and mentally she was able to make all that go away in an instant as you stared down at her in awe. Elvis came over and leaned down to kiss her forehead as he stared down at her with the same look, he still couldn’t believe he was a daddy. You looked up at Elvis and smiled at him seeing how in love he was with his little girl. He looked at you with a smile and leaned over to press a kiss to your lips and you kissed him back softly.

“There’s probably gonna be some press outside, Little. The guys will make sure they won’t get too close.” he whispered.

You let out a soft sigh because you hated how you looked right now and the last thing you wanted was your picture taken. “Will you take her while I get changed and put some makeup on? I-I don’t look good enough for pictures.” you hummed.

“Are you kiddin’? You’re beautiful, honey!” he said softly.

“You’re sweet. But I don’t look or feel beautiful. I’ll be right back..” you sighed, carefully handing Ada to him. Elvis was still a little nervous whenever he held her because of how tiny she is but he cradled her protectively in his arms and he let out a soft sigh as he watched you grab your bag and head into the bathroom. He felt terrible because he wasn’t sure what to do to help you. But he knew the doctor said the postpartum depression would eventually pass. As he waited for you he sat down and gently rocked Ada in his arms and he looked down at her, smiling. He gently brushed his index finger along her cheek and she cooed softly.

“I can’t wait to get you home to Memphis. Daddy got your room all ready for you, yittle.” he whispered.

While in the bathroom you quickly showered and searched through the bag of clothes your mother brought for you. You rolled your eyes because she packed a bunch of dresses for you and you weren’t sure how they would look. You picked the cute floral sundress with spaghetti straps and sash belt around the middle. When you got the dress on you grabbed the little pink sweater that went with it and slipped it on and you paired it with some white flats. You then brushed your hair out and decided to leave it down and then you grabbed your makeup case and put on mascara, blush, and a light shade of pink lipstick. You took one look at yourself not particularly liking what you saw but you gathered your things and headed out of the bathroom to see Elvis rocking Ada in his arms and humming softly to her. That brought a smile to your face seeing him being so sweet with her. But Elvis had an even bigger smile on his face when he saw you. You were a vision to him and so beautiful that he didn’t even say a word.

You noticed him staring at you and you took it as if something was wrong and you looked down at yourself and then back at him. “What? Do I look funny?” you said with a hint of insecurity in your voice.

He furrowed his brow and shook his head.

“Hell no... You look absolutely beautiful. You always do, Little.” he said softly.

Even though you felt the complete opposite of that you couldn’t stop yourself from blushing at his words. You were lucky to have a husband as sweet as him and who found you beautiful no matter what. “Thank you, honey.” you hummed as you gathered up your things and packed them away into your bag and then made sure Ada had everything in her diaper bag. “I can take her if you want to get the bags, honey.” you whispered. Elvis nodded and slowly got up from his seat and he brought Ada over to you and carefully placed her into your arms and you smiled down at her as she let out a tiny yawn. You giggled softly to yourself. “She yawns just like her daddy.” you beamed.

Elvis laughed and leaned down to kiss her forehead before he grabbed the bags. “Are my girls ready to go?” he smiled. You nodded at his words, taking a deep breath and knowing you had nothing to worry about because the guys were more than good at keeping people from getting too close when Elvis needed it. Elvis smiled and gestured for you to lead the way and you began to walk out the room where Jerry and Sonny had met you at the door and the rest of the guys had gone ahead where a few members of the press were waiting and ready to get a glimpse of baby Ada.

You glanced back to see Elvis right behind you. He gave you a smile. “It’s gonna be okay, Little.” he whispered to you. You nodded and peered down at the sleeping baby in your arms, hoping that they wouldn’t take too many pictures of her. As you all stepped outside the cameras started snapping and they were all chattering away and trying to get close. You allowed them to get a few pictures of her before covering her face with the blanket and the guys hurried the two of you into the big bus and Elvis hurried behind you with the bags in and the rest of the guys followed. You let out a sharp exhale and uncovered Ada’s face and now she was awake and beginning to whine.

“Aw, hi baby, did all that noise wake you? Hm? It’s okay.” you said in a soft baby voice, leaning down to kiss her cheek and you headed to the bedroom in the back with her.

Usually Elvis would drive the bus but he wanted to spend time with his girls and when he heard Ada’s soft whines he made Lamar drive and as the guys were settling in and Lamar was navigating them out of the hospital parking lot, Elvis took the diaper bag and headed back to the two of you. “Is she okay?” he asked worriedly.

“She’s fine. Say I’m fine, daddy.” you said in a baby voice, giggling softly as you soothed her and got her little whines to stop. Elvis beamed proudly, seeing how easy motherhood came to you. He sat beside you on the bed, staring down at Ada who’s eyes were now wide open.

“Hi, yittle.” he beamed, brushing his fingers lightly against her cheek. You smiled and kissed his cheek.

“I’m going to lay down with her for a bit. Will you join us?” you hummed, reaching up to run your fingers through his hair.

Elvis nodded with a grin.

“I’d love to, baby.” he smiled. The both of you got up and you carefully placed Ada in the middle of the bed and she cooed softly. You and Elvis slipped your shoes off and climbed into bed beside the tiny baby and you turned to lay on your side, smiling at Elvis as he faced you. You carefully unwrapped the blanket around Ada that you swaddled her in and now her little feet were kicking back and forth and you kissed her cheek. Elvis chuckled softly as he placed his finger into her tiny hand and she gripped it tight, she cooed even more.

“She’s got one helluva grip on her.” he laughed.

“She’s not letting her daddy go. I don’t blame her.” You giggled softly, rubbing your hand over her little tummy. Ada continued to hold onto Elvis’ finger and she stared up at him with her big blue eyes and a little smile formed on her lips. “Aw, see? She just loves her daddy so much.” you hummed, laying your head beside her. Elvis had the biggest smile on his face and he pressed several gentle kisses to her cheek. Just watching the two of them together warmed your heart especially when Elvis began to speak to her in his baby talk. You couldn’t help but laugh because she had no idea what he was saying but she couldn’t keep her eyes off him as she babbled softly.

“Oh? Is that so? Mhm.. I’ll tell, mama.” Elvis hummed.

You raised an eyebrow and laughed seeing her and acting as if they were speaking to one another. “Tell me, what?” you smiled.

“She said she’s got the best mama.” he grinned.

“Oh hush.. I’ve only been a mother for two weeks.” you laughed.

“And look at how well you’ve taken to being one.” he smiled, resting his head beside Ada’s as the two of you cuddled up close to her.

“Well, she’s got the best daddy around.” you beamed. Elvis smiled, glancing back down at his daughter feeling like such a proud dad.

As the three of you laid there Ada began to fuss and whine until it turned into cries. You sat up a bit and rubbed your hand over her tummy, shushing her softly as you tried to comfort and soothe her. “Can you get her pacifier out of the diaper bag, honey?” you said softly as she continued to cry. Elvis nodded and got up and went over to the bag, grabbing her pacifier and he climbed back into bed and you took it and popped it into her mouth and her cries subsided a little but she sniffled and whined as she sucked on her pacifier. “Shhh, it’s okay..” you whispered as you continued to rub her tummy.

Elvis hated seeing her cry and he gently wiped her little tears that streamed down her face. “What’s the matter, baby?” he whispered, kissing her cheek. She flailed her arms around and the pacifier fell out of her mouth and she began to cry again. You let out a soft sigh and carefully scooped her up into your arms, rocking her back and forth as you picked up her pacifier and put it back in her mouth, but she fussed and fussed. “Maybe she’s hungry?” Elvis said softly.

“I fed her before we left the hospital.” you replied, feeling to see if she needed her diaper changed but her diaper was fine. She was fussing so much that her pacifier fell out of her mouth again and she cried even more. You continued to rock her back and forth and now you were beginning to get overwhelmed because you didn’t know what was wrong with her or how to help. The more overwhelmed you became it triggered you to get emotional. Elvis had witnessed this happen a few times in the hospital whenever Ada would get like this and he’d notice how overwhelmed you’d become. The doctor said it could be just the stress of being a new mother and Elvis wasn’t sure how to help you besides trying to calm Ada.

“I can take her if you want, Little? I can try to calm her down, it’s okay.” Elvis said softly, reaching out for Ada. You nodded your head slowly as you began to cry, you felt so stupid crying but you felt horrible because you didn’t know how to help her when she became like this. “Little.. Why are you cryin’, honey? It’s okay, she’s just a little cranky.” he whispered.

“I-I know.. I just.. I can’t help it..” you sniffled.

You carefully handed Ada to Elvis and he held her against his chest and he grabbed her pacifier and put it in her mouth, she latched onto it and she was sniffling softly as her cries began to settle, but she was still a little fussy. So Elvis began to walk around the room bouncing her in his arms as he started to sing My Happiness to her. She slowly was beginning to settle down in his embrace. Now you felt even worse because you could never get her to calm down the way that he could. You felt like a terrible mother whenever this would happen and now you couldn’t stop crying. Elvis looked over to see you in tears just like Ada was and he shook his head with a small smile having plans of taking care of his other baby. He glanced down at Ada and one of her little hands was clutching onto his shirt and her eyes were closing. Once she had fallen asleep he carefully laid her back down in the middle of the bed and she was sound asleep again, Elvis smiled down at her and then he plopped down in the chair that sat beside the bed and he patted his lap for you. “C’mere, Little.” he hummed.

You wiped your teary eyes and got up and walked over to him and you climbed into his lap, your legs dangling off his lap and your arms slipping around his shoulders. Your head resting against his chest as you sniffled softly, curling into him like you were a little girl. Elvis slipped his arms around you and kissed the top of your head as one of his hands ran along your back soothingly. “Talk to me, honey. What’s the matter?” he whispered. You glanced up at him and you started to pout. He raised an eyebrow and reached up to brush your hair out of your face and he pressed a kiss to your pouty lips, cupping your face in his hand. “Use your words, Little.” he said softly. You let out a soft sigh and continued to pout as your fingers twirled through his hair.

“I feel like a bad mom..” you mumbled.

“Baby, what are ya talkin’ about?? You’re the most amazing mother.” he smiled.

“Then how come I can never get her to calm down like you can? It’s as if she doesn’t like me..” you sighed, pouting more.

“You silly girl.. She loves her mama. You get a little overwhelmed, s’all. I know it may not be easy bein’ a mother at your age, but that’s why I’m here. You ain’t gotta do this alone, baby. ” he hummed, brushing your hair behind your ear.

You nodded your head slowly at his words and you rested your head back against his chest. “I just want to be able to calm her like that.” you whispered.

“You will, honey. I wouldn’t suggest singing because you might scare her with your voice.” he laughed. You glanced up at him and narrowed your eyes as you hit his arm.

“Be nice to me.. I’m sad.” you pouted.

“Aw, I know, yittle. I got one baby to sleep, I’ll get the other down.” he chuckled, tightening his arms around you and you snuggled into him, glancing up and smiling as he even began to rock you in his arms. You let out a soft giggle and shut your eyes as he even began to sing to you. You let out a content sigh. Elvis always knew how to make you feel better through the littlest things. You were so lucky to have him especially now when your emotions were all over the place. You ended up falling asleep in his arms and you were in such a deep sleep you didn’t feel it when he carried you and placed you into the bed beside Ada who was still sleeping. Elvis climbed into bed with the two of you and he just watched his girls sleeping the entire way to Vegas.

When you all finally arrived in Vegas, you were finally waking up to the sound of the guys unloading the bus and the sound of Elvis’ voice talking to them. You rubbed your hand over your eyes and looked around for a moment before looking down at Ada, who was already awake. She was sucking on her pacifier and had been kicking her little legs so much she kicked the little blanket off that was around her. You smiled at her and wrapped her back up in her blanket and as you got up you soothed out your dress and fixed your hair before scooping her up into your arms and you peeked out the window to see you were at the International. You cradled her in one arm and grabbed the diaper bag with the other as you headed out of the room and Elvis smiled when he saw the both of you and he walked right over to kiss your cheek. “I’ve gotta feed her, Elvis.” you said softly.

Elvis nodded. “Okay, honey, Sonny and Red are gonna take us upstairs.” he smiled. You nodded and began to follow Elvis off the bus where the two men were waiting while the rest were unloading the bags to have them brought up to his suite as you both headed inside and upstairs to the room. You smiled down at Ada who’s eyes were looking all over at her new surroundings. When you finally got to the room, Sonny and Red left the three of you alone. You kissed Elvis’ cheek before you headed back to the bedroom for some privacy.

You laid Ada on the bed and grabbed a diaper and unbuttoned her onesie and changed her diaper. You leaned down and blew raspberries on her little tummy and her legs kicked and you giggled softly, buttoning her onesie back up and scooping her back up into your arms and sitting on the bed. You tugged the left strap of your dress down your shoulder and tucking the front of your dress down enough to reveal your left breast and brought her up to it and she latched onto your nipple right away. You smiled at her as she started to eat and one of her hands rested against your chest. You gently brushed the little blonde strands on the top of her head. “You’ve got your daddy’s hair. Well, what his hair used to look like.” you giggled softly.

“I heard that.” Elvis chimed in as he suddenly came into the room, laughing softly as he brought in the rest of your things. He smiled widely when he saw the two of you and the way Ada was holding onto you. “See? She loves her mama.” he beamed.

“That’s because I’m her source of food.” you laughed, looking back down to watch her eat and you pressed tiny kisses to her little hand, Elvis grinned and went to grab the rest of your things and you continued to lightly brush your fingers against her hair. “Mommy’s sorry she hasn’t been herself, I promise I will be soon. We’re very lucky to have your daddy.” You whispered to her, smiling as she continued to nurse from you. Elvis had been listening on the other side of the door and he smiled to himself before he came walking in with the rest of your things and then he sat down on the bed, smiling at his two girls.

“How you feelin’, baby?” He asked.

“I’m good. I’m sorry for being such a cry baby earlier.” You mumbled.

Elvis shook his head at your words and reached over to comb his fingers through your hair and he smiled warmly as he glanced down at the baby in your arms. “Nothin’ for you to be sorry about, Little. I understand and she understands. It’s okay.” he whispered. You smiled at his comforting words and nodded and when Ada was done eating you pulled the front of your dress back up and held her up against your shoulder with her little bib resting against your shoulder to catch her spit up, patting her back lightly to burp her.

“I’d like for the two of you to come to the show tonight. I know the fans will be excited to see her.” Elvis beamed.

“Um, I don’t know, Elvis. I think all of that and the crowd will be too loud for her. She’s only a few weeks old and I don’t know if that would be a good idea. But we could watch from backstage, so she could hear her daddy sing.” you said with a smile.

Elvis was a little disappointed but he understood your reasoning and knew you were right. “Okay, honey, as long as my girls are there. That’s all that matters to me.” He smiled and leaned over to kiss your cheek and kissed the top of Ada’s head. She finally let out a tiniest little burp and spitting up and you giggled softly.

“Good girl.” You beamed, cradling her back in your arms and wiping the spit up from her mouth with the bib.

Elvis chuckled softly.

“She’s so damn cute.” He grinned, tickling her little feet before he stood back up. “I’m gonna get ready for the show and I’ll have Jerry come up to get the two of you, okay?” He smiled.

You nodded, wrapping Ada in her blanket as you smiled up at Elvis. “Okay, honey.” You hummed, he leaned down to kiss you again and smiled at Ada before he headed out. “You’re gonna hear your daddy sing tonight, which I know is your favorite.” you whispered to her, she stared up at you with her big blue eyes, flailing her little hands around and cooing softly. Just staring down at that little face made you so happy and so proud to be her mother. You got up from the bed and grabbed her pacifier and diaper bag as the two of you waited for Jerry to come and get you. You kissed her little hands as they reached up toward you, letting out a soft content sigh. When there was a knock at the door you went over to answer it, smiling when you saw Jerry. “Here’s uncle Jerry to take us to see daddy.” you hummed, smiling at her.

Jerry smiled when he saw the two of you and he couldn’t keep his eyes off Ada and you raised an eyebrow at him, smiling. “Did you want to hold her?” you asked.

“Uh.. I’d like to.. But I’ve never held a baby before.” he said nervously.

“Neither have I, but you’ll do just fine. Come inside, I’m sure Elvis isn’t even ready yet.” you laughed. Jerry chuckled and walked inside the suite, shutting the door behind him and you led him over to the couch where you both sat down and just handed Ada to him and he was caught off guard but quickly cradled her in his arms. You laughed seeing how frantic he was with her in his arms. She wiggled around in his arms, kicking her legs and staring up at Jerry. You watched as he stared back at her in awe and you knew in an instant that he was completely in love with her. You leaned over and smiled down at her. “I think she likes you.” you hummed.

“How can you tell?” he asked, chuckling as he began to relax with the tiny baby in his arms.

“Whenever she kicks her little feet, that's when I know she’s happy.” you giggled softly.

Jerry smiled widely and stared back down at Ada who continued to stare up at him. “Man, she looks just like him.” Jerry laughed.

“Right!? Elvis doesn’t seem to think so. But she’s her daddy alright.” you smiled.

“We should probably head down before Elvis starts wondering where you are.” he said, carefully handing Ada back to you. You nodded and stood up holding Ada protectively in your arms as you headed toward the door.

“Could you grab her diaper bag for me?” you smiled. Jerry nodded and picked up the bag and let you lead the way as the two of you headed out towards the elevator where you rode it down to the main floor and headed for the backstage entrance of the showroom, Ada was getting a little fussy and you slipped her pacifier in her mouth and she soon settled as you gently rocked her. When you got to Elvis’ dressing room you smiled at him in his jumpsuit, looking handsome as ever. His face lit up at the sight of the two of you.

“There my girls!” he beamed happily, walking over to you and kissing your cheek and then kissing Ada’s forehead.

“Your daddy is so handsome.” you giggled.

Elvis chuckled, taking the diaper bag from Jerry and sitting it down.

“Guess who held her for the first time?” you grinned, looking toward Jerry.

“Jerry?! Ain’t she the cutest little thing?” Elvis beamed, proudly.

“She sure is, E. Looks just like you.” Jerry hummed.

You smiled and went over to sit down on the couch, rocking Ada gently as she laid awake in your arms, looking all around at her new surroundings curiously. As Elvis was ready to head out he and the guys were chatting quietly among themselve and you were in your own little world with Ada. Once it was time for him to head out on stage he came over to give you and Ada a quick kiss. You smiled watching him head out and you could hear the muffled screams of the roaring crowd the moment he stepped out onto that stage and then hearing him talking and joking around with the audience.

The only thing Elvis wanted to talk about when he got onto that stage was his little daughter, that right before the show even started he stopped everything just to do that. “I’m sure some of you may know by now, but my wife had our little girl a few weeks ago.” he laughed when the crowd began to go crazy. He smirked and shook his head, glancing back at his band behind him and laughing as he walked around the stage. “Now, uh.. She’s backstage, but her mama won’t let me bring her out. She says it’s too loud for her. So, if you folks don’t mind before we start the show tonight.. I-I’d like to sing her a song. It was the song I sang to her in the hospital and it’s her favorite. It’s an old song, called My Happiness.” he said softly, as the music began to play he started to sing. You could hear everything from backstage and it just brought a smile to your face because he was the proudest daddy. You glanced down at Ada who’s little feet started kicking the moment he started to sing, she knew her daddy’s voice and the special song he sang just for her. His little happiness.

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