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ohtobeleah · 1 month

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Secret Sacrifices // Jake Seresin

Chapter Two: [Like A Brick]

Summary: With the weight of the world sitting on your shoulders, you confide in the gentle soul that is Bob Floyd. Also known as, your first kiss.

Warnings: Jake Seresin x F!reader. Witness Protection F!reader. Platonic Bob Floyd x F!reader. Mentions of death. Mentions of drowning.

Word Count: 2.8k

Author Note: I'm Back! To get back into the swing of things I thought this little chapter would do us good. although this chapter is mainly focused on Bob and Brewer, we, being @a-reader-and-a-writer and myself, thought it deserved its own moment to really capture the significance of the shared secrets.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Being caught deep in swirling memories wasn’t something out of the ordinary for you. Being swept along with the tide, the waves of which push and pull your mind between present times and your past. The very idea of being caught between realities, a paradoxical space between now and then always seemed to be better than the alternative. Live through hell.

“My mum says I’m too young to kiss girls.”

Thoughts of who you could have been and thoughts of who you became push together to create a constant state of flight. Nostalgia is like a whirlpool that you drown in deep inside your mind. You’re unable to tread water as you feel the waves breaking against your skin, forcing you under as you gasp for air. What good were those swimming lessons you were forced to partake in as a child?

“Do you tell your mum everything, Bobby?”

Your mind becomes an unblended mix of memories you’d like to replay on repeat, and those you’d like to hide. Nothing ever seemed simple anymore. Not even the memory of your first kiss. The memory that you’d once considered colourful was now shrouded in forced denial. It couldn’t have happened, for you weren’t Y/n Y/l/n anymore.

“What’re you still doing here?” It has been a long night, so long the sun had just started to kiss the horizon as you made your final lap around the front and back decks of the Hard Deck. Bob sat patiently waiting on one of the picnic tables, typing away something on his phone.

Your voice must have startled him, but you’d never make fun of the way the Back Seater jumped enough to knock the chair his boot-clad feet were resting on into the small outdoor pot plant that sat beside the table. You watched it rock back and forth before steadying itself once again, like a boi floating in the current. That same current that had on many occasions, tried to drag you under.

“I thought for sure you would have been the first one out the door?” You followed up on your initial question as you collected an empty glass you’d missed. Bob pocketed his phone with a tired smile as he looked your way.

“Fanboy’s still in the bathroom with Payback–” Bob explained softly as he looked your way. “Big night, someone had to be the deso though.” You could see it in Bob’s eyes, the colour of a clear blue sky through a broken prison wall. He wanted to ask, wanted to bring it up. He knew you were lying, but why was the biggest question.

“I was gonna call them and the other stragglers a taxi—“ Only a handful of patrons remained inside the Hard Deck as you went about your closing duties. Usually, you would have kicked them out by now. You weren’t necessarily one to want to hang about with people possibly lurking in the shadows. But two-thirds of the stragglers left behind were none other than two-sevenths of the Hard Decks top contributors. “If I had known you were coming back for them I would have told you not to worry,” The chuckle that left Bob’s voice at your statement was undeniably genuine. “I would have sent them home with vomit bags tucked into their back pockets too.”

“That’s why they pay you top dollar I guess?” Ever since Bob first saw you behind the bar that very first night, he knew he knew you. It wasn’t some distant memory of a forgotten past for Robert Floyd. The memory of his first kiss was an easy one to recall from the rolodex inside his mind. It just so happened to be a core memory that unlocked a whole other category of life’s simplest pleasures. But the more you denied its existence, or more specifically denied you were the one who ultimately shared in that childhood memory, Bob wasn’t sure if he’d dreamt the whole thing or not.

Perhaps his first kiss came a hell of a lot later in life than he always thought.

“Top dollar?” You had to stifle your laugh as you joined Bob on the picnic table. As you sat with a small huff, you knocked your knee against his playfully. “Please, but the tips are good.”

There was a heavy silence so deafening that washed over the two of you not too long after you finished speaking. Its gravity felt like an intense pressure forcing itself down against your chest. The longer you and Bob sat there in pure silence, the more time slipped unwillingly through your fingertips, the more your heart beat faster inside your chest.

The silence magnified the pressure mounting, and the scale of your anxiety all felt like it was about to come to a boiling point. As you sat there next to Bob in shared silence, it felt as if the world had turned once again on its axis, and you were just a few short seconds away from falling off the face of the earth.

“I have a small confession to make,” It wasn’t ever supposed to be aired in the open, but the guilt that sat heavily on your conscience was making it harder and harder to keep lying. For three years you had told not a single soul, but Bob Floyd had created a paradox of inner turmoil you weren’t prepared to harbour. “To be perfectly honest it isn’t all that small of a confession.”

“Brewer,” Bob sighed almost reluctantly. The last thing he ever wanted to do was force someone into sharing intimate details of their life. “If there’s a reason why you keep denying it, I’m sure it’s a good one,” Bob had thought about this long and hard, there surely had to be a reason why. He was adamant that you were the girl who kissed him all those years ago. That yellow pigment in your eye was the dead giveaway. He couldn’t ever forget looking into the eyes of the girl who had pressed her cotton candy-flavoured lips against his for three point-five seconds. “And you don’t have to tell me that reason, but, at least tell me, I’m not crazy.”

Again, the silence was deafening as you sat with your secrets for the last few moments. Only a handful of people knew, all of whom were involved in keeping you safe and working your witness protection case. If news got out that you had told someone intimate, key details of your current situation, you’d be forced to restart a whole new life once again. But Bob was different. He was worth the risk for an ounce of normality.

“You aren’t crazy,” It was all the confirmation Bob needed, but that didn’t stop you from wanting to share your personal hell. “I uh, I remember.” You hadn’t told a single soul in three years. You’d been through a thousand things in your life that people didn’t know about. You had experienced things that would shock them if you mentioned the horrors. Those things changed you. Hell—they broke you.

“Bob, I haven’t been Y/n Y/l/n in a little over three years now,” You hung your head low as you spoke, almost like you were afraid that if you looked anywhere but between your feet, you’d see the bloodied and bruised ghost of your dead husband. “I, uh,—saw some things that I shouldn’t have,” The shake in your voice was hard to mask, the sting in your eyes burned like ice against your skin. “I thought that maybe I should tell someone about what I saw, and when I did that I—“

“Brewer,” Bob's voice was soft enough to be barely audible, but you heard him. “You’re in witness protection, aren’t you?” Bob took your immediate silence and broken sob as a definitive yes. He couldn’t even say the idea hadn’t crossed his mind after all the shutdowns and denial.

“I lost my family,” You had a taste of what true love felt like. To experience such an emotion was the greatest gift of all. You loved your son, Charlie, to the moon and back. So much so that you wished every night you let your head fall against your pillow, that you’d be reunited. “I was set to testify against the company I worked for in some whistleblower trial, but the day before I was set to take the stand, we were run off the road.”

Bob sat silently beside you just taking everything you were saying in. He couldn’t imagine what it was like to be in your shoes. To some degree, he almost felt guilty for all the times he couldn’t let the kiss memory go. Every time he brought it up in hopes you’d finally cave and give him the validation he was looking for, it probably felt like an old wound being ripped open.

“You have to understand that I don’t get a choice very often over who I let in,” You finally had to look up, and when you did? Bob was already looking at you. You could see the sympathy plastered across his face in your peripheral. “You can’t tell anyone, and I know it’s a burden to bear, believe me,” The tears had begun to fall long ago and seemed to never stop, but when you finally worked up enough courage to look toward the backseater who sat beside you, your tears were mirrored. “And I know it’s unfair to burden you with such a thing,” The very idea that Bob was now one of the very few people who knew about your situation didn’t taste all that great, but you couldn’t take it back now. You couldn’t shove your secrets back into the can you’d just released them from in a moment of vulnerability. “But please, you can’t tell anyone.”

Bob Floyd was, if anything, a wallflower. He didn’t like being the centre of attention. If he could, Bob would happily spend any time he had off work in the comfort of his own home. He’d spend his free time working on the world map puzzle that had been sitting half-finished on his coffee table for months. But Bob never got to spend those free moments working on his hobbies, no. His found family more often than not would drag him to the Hard Deck. Most of the time Bob would settle into the background and try his best not to draw attention to himself, he couldn’t begin to imagine what it was like to stand in the middle of a crowded room and not be seen for who you really were.

“Nothin’ to tell Brewer,” Bob shrugged his shoulders. “And even if there was? I’m not the gossip type.”

That very fact gentled your soul. All you could do as the overwhelming sense of loneliness overtook you was sob. Bob let you lean your head on his shoulder. His arm soon found itself wrapped around you as your sobs grew stronger and more pained. Tears stained your cheeks as the trails they made collected the makeup you wore, leaving clear indications of distress behind.

“You know there was this girl,” Bob wondered if now was an appropriate time to share his own darkest secret. The idea of maybe holding onto something so important to one another may have softened the blow of knowing Bob held your greatest secrets in the palm of his hand. Perhaps if he shared his own with you, that feeling, that heaviness he knew you felt, would be a little easier to live with. “Her name was Bieanna, everyone back home called her Brick though.”

You had to collect yourself enough to get your breath back before you could speak. Bob understood that. He sat in the silence broken with gentle sobs that softened as more time passed. He wanted until you were ready to speak.

“What did everyone call her Brick?” The question came out easily enough, but the way Bob stiffened at the question as you raised your head from his shoulder made you question if it was harder to hear than to ask.

“She never learnt how to swim–” Bob mumbled as he looked out into the empty car park of the Hard Deck. “If she tried she’d sink–” He waited for you to finish the sentence, and you did.

“Like a Brick.” The realisation wasn’t hard to notice in your saddened eyes. If anything, Bob wondered if he had to continue his story of tragedy or not. You were a smart girl, he knew you could put two and two together. But he wanted to share, he wanted to let you know you could trust him wholeheartedly with your secrets. And you with his.

“Bingo,” Bob smiled softly as you whipped your tears from your heated cheeks. “She ended up drowning a few months after we started dating.”

“Oh, Bob.” Your heart ached for the Back Seater who sat beside you. “I’m so sorry.”

“The worst part is I could have done more to save her,” Bob pressed his lips into a fine line of guilt. “She’d been going great guns for a few weeks while I was teaching her how to swing on her family’s property just outside of town,” Bob could very clearly still remember the taste of the dirt-laced water he’d ingested trying to save her. He could still see the panic in her eyes. “She got her foot stuck in some weeds at the bottom of the damn, panicked, and despite everything I did, I couldn’t save her,”

“It wasn’t your fault, Bob–”

“It was my idea to teach her own to swim though,” Bob admitted as he let his elbows rest on top of his knees. “I don’t ask people to swim anymore, and I’ve never told anyone about the fact she sometimes visits me in my dreams,” Bob explained as he let out a sigh that he wasn’t aware he’d been holding in. “But now you know, and now the secrets we keep don’t seem so heavy.”

The very idea of knowing one of Bob’s longest-kept secrets made you feel a little better about him knowing yours. You trusted Bob, there was no doubt about it. But that gesture of solidarity made you feel safe, trusted.

“No one can know, Bob,” You finished the conversation at that, faking a small smile as Fanboy and Payback came barreling out through the front doors of the Hard Deck. You were instantly on your feet, back in work mode as you wiped away the remaining tears that stained your cheeks.

Bob watched on from his perch on top of the picnic table as you attempted to wrangle the two drunk and disorderly men who could barely tell which way was up and what way was down. He let a few moments pass as he watched on, allowing your life-altering, world-shattering secrets to plague his mind with what-ifs and worst-case scenarios. The very idea that there were people in this world after you didn’t sit well with him. The fact you’d been living a stranger’s life for three years made him want to hug his mother a little tighter the next time he got the chance to see her. He couldn’t begin to imagine to heartache of losing a child, but he knew enough of grief to know what losing a significant other could do to a person.

And for someone who had experienced the worst of what life had to offer, you still saw the very best in people.

“Alright you two drunks, let’s get you two home in one piece,” You chuckled as you walked the aviators over towards where Bob sat. “Taxi’s waiting and the meters running.”

“You’ve given us alcohol poisoning, Brewer,” Payback mumbled as he stumbled with you over to where Bob was. Bob stood with a groan to collect Fanboy from beside you.

“Oh piss off, will ya Reuben–your liver will thank me for cutting you off when you did,” you teased as you handed the men over to Bob with ease. “Get these two home safe Floyd.”

“Will do Brewer.” Bob's soft smile and kind-natured nod was all you needed in response to know he meant his words. “Have a good night, or morning I guess.”

You watched on from the veranda as the three men walked across the sandy car park and over to Bob’s Suzuki, knowing that the next time you saw Bob amongst his Squadron—there would be no mention of that first kiss.

***~***~***~***~***~**

Tags: 🏷️ @a-reader-and-a-writer @xoxabs88xox @hiireadstuff @buckysteveloki-me @athenabarnes @els-marvelvsp @blindedbythelightt @tayl0rhuynh @na-ta-sh-aa @kmc1989 @sunlightmurdock @mamachasesmayhem @jaxfart @lauenderhaze @sugarcoated-lame @maisie-rebloging-blog @captainmoonknight @seitmai @shanimallina87 @kajjaka @imnotcreativeenoughforthisblog @imladrisofabookdragon @buckysteveloki-me @mrsevans90 @allepaula @els-marvelvsp @djs8891 @paperbag33

#secret sacrifices // jake seresin #jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #bob floyd #top gun fandom #top gun fanfiction #top gun fanfic #jake seresin fanfiction #jake hangman fic

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dragon-teaparty · 1 year

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“ I Love You Too ” - Leon Kennedy x Reader

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

ok so first off, i'm so fucking MAD bc tumblr didn't save my draft when it suddenly closed the app to update so i have to rewrite this ENTIRE THING

i'm actually so mad about it, i swear i was about to just not write this. i'm gonna rip my hair out i swear

anyway, i'm back with another story :3 this time it's more wholesome and fluffy

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summary: you and leon become even closer than before (gn reader btw)

It was nearly sunset. You and Leon were in his backyard, just enjoying the weather. You had begun to play fight, something that was common amongst you both.

Usually, it would be typical banter but you'd always say something that would set Leon off, and now was one of those moments.

You said something about his driving and teased him about every time he crashed a vehicle. Of course you had to make some snarky comment about his license.

Before you could bolt off, Leon grabbed you by the waist, causing you to yelp and giggle.

He swept you off your feet and held you in his arms bridal style. You instinctively wrapped your arms around his neck.

"Hey, c'mon!" You laughed, wiggling in his grasp. "You're like 80 tons of muscle, it's no fair!"

Leon chuckled. "Can't take what you dish out, huh?"

You and Leon were very close. Your connection was obvious to those who even glanced at you. You weren't dating, no, but a lot of people sure thought you were.

It was clear how much Leon genuinely cared for you. You had been his light in the darkness of the horrors he's seen in Raccoon City and the mission to Spain to save the president's daughter. It was difficult for him to let people in and the trauma only made it worse.

Of course, Ada had to do something with this as well. Her betrayal all those years ago still weighed heavy on Leon's heart. He was still confused, hurt, and angry all the same. Although he was glad to see Ada alive, he couldn't help but have a taste of bitterness for her. A bitterness that just wouldn't wash off of his tongue no matter how much the mercenary tried to make things better.

You were different. So much different than any other person he'd ever known.

Everything about you was perfect in Leon's eyes. Your laugh, your smile, your sense of humor, the way you'd look away and squeal when you were excited about something. It made him smile.

You had successfully torn down the walls Leon had built and he was more than happy about that. Of course, the initial part of getting to know you was rather irritating for him, he didn't want to talk about his feelings or let anyone see this side of him. You had been a ray of sunshine on his cold heart.

"Put me down!" You squeaked, squirming around.

Leon let out an exasperated huff. "Okay, okay!" He chuckled and then gently placed you back down on your feet. He immediately pulled you into a hug to which you happily accepted.

Your love for Leon was just as strong as his love was for you. You always had more romantic feelings for him but you never admitted it in fear of ruining the special bond you two had.

"I missed you while I was away," Leon spoke up, still holding you against his chest.

You smiled at this. "i missed you too." You said, your voice becoming quiet. "I always miss you."

Leon felt a pang in his heart when you said that. His job was dangerous and there was always the risk of losing his life. He knew how much you worried and he hated it.

He never really thought much about how dangerous being an agent is since he was so used to it at this point. Seeing you worry made him feel guilty.

"I know," he replied softly. "But you know I'll always come back to you, right?"

You nodded, burying your face into his chest.

As much as Leon reassured you that he'd always come home safe, you couldn't help but have the thought in the back of your mind.

When he was away, your nights were often sleepless and you found it difficult to get things done from how worried you got sometimes.

The thought of losing Leon was crushing and you couldn't stand it.

"Hey," Leon spoke, pulling away a little to look at you. "I promise." His expression was soft and his tone sweet and reassuring.

You couldn't hold it back. As you looked up at him and heard his words, tears swelled in your eyes and they began spilling. Leon pulled you back into his arms and you hugged him back once more. He shushed you quietly, running his fingers through your hair and murmuring soft reassurances.

The two of you had stood there in each other's arms for quite a while. By the time you two parted, the sun had finally dipped below the horizon. The moonlight shines through the branches and leaves of the tree you were under, illuminating you both.

Leon couldn't help but admire you. You looked so beautiful underneath the soft glow of the night sky. Your eyes always appeared to sparkle in the light but they looked especially like stars here. He found himself not being able to tear his eyes away from you.

You looked back up at him and into his pretty blue eyes.

He reached over and gently cupped your cheek with one hand. "I'm never leaving you, y'know." He whispered, once again reassuring you with a genuine smile spreading across his face. "You can't get rid of me that easy."

You smiled back, your heart fluttering as you leaned into his touch, placing your hand on his own.

"Oh, I know," you said, your tone turning more playful. "You really don't know when to quit, Kennedy."

Leon laughed, a genuine laugh that you and you alone had ever heard. He looked back at you, a comfortable silence suddenly falling upon you both.

You felt yourself get lost in Leon's eyes. The baby blue was so mesmerizing to you.

The way you looked at him didn't help either, it made his heart jump out of his chest.

The way you looked at one another was undeniable. The fondness and love in your eyes, like you were a golden treasure in the middle of the rubble in both of your minds.

As Leon looked at you, he had an overwhelming urge to just admit his feelings. He loved you so much and he wanted to shout it out loud, pour out his heart to you.

Instead, he simply leaned in, his lips softly pressing against your own.

Your eyes widened, not expecting the sudden gesture at all but you melted into the kiss, your eyes closing shut.

It felt like fireworks had gone off in your brain, butterflies swarmed your tummy, tickling your insides. You almost couldn't believe this was happening.

Leon held the kiss for a little while longer before he pulled away, looking into your eyes. His expression was so soft and loving.

"I love you," you finally spoke, blurting out the words as you were unable to hold them back anymore. You surprised yourself, a blush quickly creeping across your cheeks.

Leon smiled. For the first time in years, he actually felt complete, he felt so loved and safe. This feeling was almost enough to drive him to tears. Never in his life had he ever felt this way about another person before.

He pulled you close again and planted another kiss on your lips before he pulled away again, looking down at you with a grin that he just couldn't get rid of.

"I love you too."

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phew! this one is definitely not as good as the one i originally had and that upsets me a lot :'c

i hope you all liked it anyways! love u guys <3

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dailydragon08 · 4 months

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headcanon post idea: everyone’s reactions when you tell them you’re proud of them (ex. after a tough mission or bc they’ve been having a hard time mentally/emotionally)

Although she’s used to the spotlight from being royalty and a revered leader in the rebellion, Leia isn’t very used to genuine praise. She’s usually the one praising someone else (or yelling at them, more likely) and the most she’s gotten in the last few years is a quick “good work” when she delivered the plans for the first Death Star before the Battle of Yavin. So when you first make her look you in the eye and genuinely tell her that you’re proud of her, she freezes for a minute. The last time she really heard that from someone who meant it was her parents, so it hits her a bit harder than she expected and she doesn’t completely know what to do with the feeling. She’s so used to being the rock for everyone else – and keeping her inner thoughts a secret was part of her job and how she stayed safe for a long time – that she takes a while to show any sort of big emotion in front of people, and even then will only do so in private. She gives you a small smile, nod, and quiet thanks before redirecting the attention to you, how much you helped, and says how she’s proud of you. But she will concede to an “I’m proud of us” before giving your shoulder an affectionate squeeze.

Luke also hasn’t heard a genuine “I’m proud of you” in a long time (not that the OT gang isn’t proud of him, they just typically don’t say it in words), but he tends to be a bit more emotionally available than his sister on a more regular basis. He can’t keep the emotion off his face and for a second, you’re afraid you said the wrong thing as his big, blue eyes start getting glassy. It means the galaxy to him, especially from someone who knows everything that happened with Owen, Beru, his father, and the emperor, not to mention all the weight on his shoulders in regard to rebuilding the Jedi Order from scratch. He collects himself soon after, but still gives you a warm smile and “thank you” before wrapping you in a tight hug. He tells you he’s proud of you as well and there isn’t anyone else he’d rather have on his team, holding the hug for a bit longer than you expected (but you, of course, would never be the first to let go).

Han pretends to be affection-averse, even though he isn’t – but, hey, he’s got a reputation to maintain. He splutters for a minute before recovering and saying something along the lines of, “Yeah, I am aware how awesome I am, kid, and I’m glad you’ve finally realized it, too. Ya know, I’m gonna remind you that you acknowledged my greatness next time you get on me for somethin’ – in fact, here,” he holds his comm right in front of your mouth and hits record, “why don’t you say that again so I have some proof?” You bat the comm away and tell him how insufferable he is before you both go back to what you were doing before. But, when he thinks you’re not looking, you can see the dopiest smile across his face.

Lando takes it the most in stride. He looks surprised for a minute, before smiling, thanking you, and putting a hand on your shoulder and giving it an affection squeeze and light shake. “You’re not so bad yourself,” he says before remarking on how you two make a great team, even going so far as to list specifics of exactly why you work so well together. He wraps his arm around your shoulders as the two of you walk back to base, a new spring in his step that you can’t deny is adorable.

Chewie (platonic) immediately says something in Shyriiwook that you think (hope?) sounds happy before enveloping you in a bear hug that almost crushes your ribs. You hang on for dear life, half laughing and half struggling to breathe, patting the Wookiee’s back before begging him to put you down before he accidentally crushes you. He mumbles something that almost sounds like the cadence of an apology in his language before setting you down and affectionately petting your head.

R2D2 (platonic) chirps, whistles, and wobbles on his two outer legs happily and is then adorably glued to your side the rest of the day. Han and Lando tease you about how you’ve found yourself your own personal servant, but Leia and Luke think it’s adorable, and even Luke comments on how much R2 loves you when he’s out of earshot. C3PO translates at some point, telling you how much R2 appreciates the compliment and that he enjoys working with you before the astromech is zipping away again to refill your water bottle for the third time.

C3PO (platonic) gives you a surprised “oh, my” before thanking you profusely. He even gives you a little bow and says, “You’re too kind. I enjoy our work together as well and you do a marvelous job at everything you set your mind to.” You give him a smile and a thanks before turning back to what you were previously doing, laughing quietly to you overhear him walking down the hall going, “Oh, Master Luke, you won’t believe what just happened!”

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noowayybroo · 11 months

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I can't think of a name for this fic.

Hi! It's been a while!

So one of the first Resident Evil fics I read was about Leon saving you from an abusive ex! And I desperately wanted to find more of these!! But I couldn't :( So! I wanted to write one! But before doing that I thought... Leon's a sweet boy - n I heard he had an ex or something before re2?? but maybe I'm wrong?? So what If YOU, dear reader, ran into absolute sweet baby boy Leon (just the one I have in mind but play it however you want if you can) and helped him through a dodgy relationship or breakup?

Characters: Leon Kennedy, Reader

Warnings: Not NSFW. GN reader cuz YOU'RE BEAUTIFUL! WHY WOULD I EVER WANT TO EXCLUDE YOU, HUH!?!?!?! No mention of age but faint job and relationship to Leon suggestions. Hurt / Comfort. Please be careful there's gonna be an abusive / manipulative partner mentions but they will be hopefully brief n quiet and the fic will focus mostly on happy Leon at the end!!! Not really a warning but written with dumb GB money n phrases n stuff so sorry if that upsets you XD

"That'll be £5.29, Sir"

"Just 99p, please."

"You want the lucky dip?" ... "Just one?" ... "£3.99 please."

"You know I need to see your ID if you want those, right?"

Another day, another dollar. Another day in this dumb shop, working late shifts for what? For minimum wage and abuse from drunken low-lives. To put it simply, you worked at an understaffed corner-shop, and always had the late shifts, because you always had the time. Same old same old. Time passed slowly, each night felt like a repeat of the last, and all you did was stare at the clock and wait for your shift to end.

Wednesday through Sunday.

Same old?

Same old.

Soft baby-blues, yet just as able to pierce, were not what first earned your attention. Nor was it the silvery blonde hair that fell upon his face in neat locks. Surprisingly, nor was it that face: so soft, so pure... Quite cute. Sweet, maybe?

Ok, stop making assumptions. The young man who's just entered your store alone seems quite flustered, in a rush. Yet you notice how he takes time to establish eye contact with you and give a swift, polite nod, acknowledging you.

You gladly return his gesture and your chest flutters a little as you share a kind smile before he disappears into the rows of aisles. You think to yourself as you watch the man's head bob around the rows of products, no longer able to see his expression. You subconsciously attempt to look a little more presentable. The thing was, customers this late at night weren't usually so polite. They didn't give a damn about whether you were there or not, unless they were trying to steal something. Wait, what time was it again?

10:04

Oh. An hour 'till home time. Great, your feet were killing you. You're shaken from your mundane day-dream as the man strides quickly up to the counter. His hands are full of microwave meals and booze. He reaches the counter long before you're focused and ready to serve him, but waits patiently despite his rush. He hands you his ID, although you'd probably have let him go without it, pays in cash and scrambles to pick his things up again.

"You need a bag?" you ask quietly, feeling almost reluctant to disturb his rush.

"N-nah thanks I got- it's not my money I don't need it-"

"It's on me." you state, soft yet assertive, grabbing his items and shoving them into one of the more expensive carrier bags. You catch him off guard completely. He stands there, frozen, as you pick the rest of his items out of his cradling arms and bag them, before shoving them back to him all packed.

"Wh- T-thanks!" He beams, hesitant. He gives you a wide, genuine smile, nods, and leaves. Just like that, he's gone. Polite, kind customers were so rare that you couldn't blame the tornado of butterflies within your stomach. To think, also, that he was so grateful for one carrier bag, something most patrons would spit on you for not supplying free. Your gaze rests on the sliding door where you last saw him, wondering if you'd ever do so again.

10:07

Uggghhhhhhhhhh....

The next few months come and go. Summer soon becomes Autumn, the nights get longer, the air gets colder and your enthusiasm for this damn job remains absent. Something that did happen, though, was that you saw more of the cordial gentleman from that night. He seemed to have been the only nice customer that came back. That, or, there was something particularly memorable about him...

Gross. Stop it.

Always kind and polite, you loved exchanging smiles with the man as he went about his shopping. You wondered why he'd been so shy.. Or at least, you'd imagined him to be shy, thanks to his timid voice and the way he stole glances at you from above the aisles.

He lets people with fewer items jump ahead of him in line, thanks you extra graciously as he leaves, and sometimes, rarely, makes small-talk with you when it's just the two of you alone. Sometimes, he likes to ask how you are, and, if a customer or your manager has given you a hard time in any way, he hurries over once you're alone to reassure you.

"Don't listen to them, c'mon... What do they know, huh?"

"You're amazing! You're doing your best and that's more than enough!"

"Those jerks don't know how lucky they are to have you!"

On one night, you're helping him pack his bags as he's counting his change to pay you, and you can't help but notice some... markings on his skin. They look like bruises, maybe hickeys? But in strange places. There are some scratches too. Where are those from? You ponder, holding out your hands for his change without thinking. Is he... alright? ...Do those hurt?

You're snatched back to reality by the sound of the change he'd just handed you falling and clattering on the counter and floor around you.

"Shhit - Sorry-", you hiss, going to pick up the coins, but before you can move, he's already shuffled to the side of your counter and is crouching down, picking up each penny with care. He hands them back to you, a little more caring this time in case you'd drop them again. He seems concerned. This time you keep a firm grip on the coins.

"Sorry... Should have brought notes..." He apologises, sincere. "Next time, sorry." No matter how much you tried to reassure him as you counted his change, he kept apologising and cursing himself. You couldn't judge him, but you just wished he wouldn't. It was your mistake, not his. He shouldn't bully himself over your issue. You stand there in silence for a while, handing him his receipt. "Thank you, but are you okay?" he asks, tentatively.

"I'm alright... I just- Are you okay?" You can't help but whisper. You feel terrible, prying about his personal life, but you were just so curious. You were worried for him. His confusion dissolves into a pool of concern as he follows your gaze to his own hands and neck, and he quickly shies away. He looked hurt, as if your stare had wounded him, as if you'd accused him of something. More so, he looked as though you'd uncovered something he'd rather leave hidden.

He does his best to assure you, swearing up and down that he's alright. He tells you he does a lot of training for his job, which made some sense with his figure, and that sometimes things can get a little rough. You didn't completely buy it, but he was gone just as quickly as he'd come - signing off with a polite nod and a 'good night' and disappearing into the cold.

Worsening your suspicions, the next time you saw your favourite customer, he was even worse for wear. His hair was tussled and messy and his features a little more scratched up and grizzly. Worst of all, this time, that lovely smile of his just felt fake - empty. It was as though he smiled for you, to show you something that wasn't really there. You greet each other. You make small-talk. As soon as he notices that his scars are visible, he takes off.

The next time you'd seen him was midnight. You'd been instructed to close the shop early after waiting for a co-worker who'd never turned up to take the next shift. The rain splashes down around you as you grumble to yourself, fiddling with the flimsy lock on the shop's door. You'd put down the metal shutters, turned off all the lights and closed up. Your priority at this time was simply to get home. You were tired, stressed and quickly becoming soaked through. All you wanted was to get home, kick off your really-painful-right-now shoes and-

...hear loud footsteps approaching you from behind.

Running.

Running?

Running towards you?

You turn quickly, heart racing, only to be met face-to-face with a really, really desperate looking gentle-customer. He greets you, panting, exhausted.

He tells you he's confused; he thought your shop was 24/7. You explain the situation to his sympathetic ears as you both stand there, equally soggy and dripping beneath the falling rain. You stand with him in silence, letting the downpour claim you as he catches his breath (or works up his confidence.)

"Did you need something?" You help him. He's hesitant, but you know he ran for a reason. Your eyes grasp his as you stand together, looking like fools on the corner of a dimly lit street.

"It- it's... I didn't want to have to ask you but could I PLEASE buy something I really really need it I'm so sorry I'll pay you extra I'll-" You cut him off, already opening the shop back up. He needed your help and you weren't about to deny him it for any reason, not since he'd been so kind to you.

You both hurry into the shop, setting up the till whilst he gathers what he needs, and then it's time to check him out and leave. He follows you out as you lower the shutters the rest of the way and lock up once more, and you wonder to yourself as you do so why he hasn't left yet. Looking up at him from your hunched over position, you see him watching you eagerly. He seems to want to say something, probably to thank you or say goodbye, but most likely feels it might be rude or abrupt.

"Thank you... Thank you very much." his voice echoes beside you in the empty street. Vivid street lights shine down on the both of you, cool colours complimenting the cold air prickling your skin. When your eyes meet, he shoots you a soft smile. You dread a 'goodbye'. You're certain it's coming. "Listen... it's really cold out.. and the rain-"

"Yeah, I know... Is this where we say goodbye for the nigh-"

"Do you want a lift?" the man interrupts you suddenly. His voice is all too timid, but he does his best to speak up over you before you mention parting ways. He doesn't think he could hear that right now.

Not that you'd know, but something about your kindness and generosity to him was affecting him in a way it shouldn't have, considering that he was in a relationship. Swiftly, the man spots your discomfort and surprise, and quickly chimes in, "My name's Leon, by the way, Leon Kennedy-", There's a long pause, "Sorry... I thought it'd... You should know that at least... Before you even think of getting in my car-"

"Are you sure?" It was your turn to cut him off this time, call it payback.. or something. In reality, your excitement just got the better of you. You wanted to speak with him, get to know him, and this would be the perfect chance!

I mean, of course, there was stranger danger, but look at him! He's harmless! Lil' (big) guy couldn't hurt a fly! Besides, by now, you felt like you knew him, at least a little. The rain poured down, soaking through you, and you didn't live far so you were sure it wouldn't be too out of his way...

"I know it's weird and sudden, I was just wondering, you don't have to..." Come on, he had to be nervous with this amount of babbling.

"Of course I'd be very grateful, thank you." You ease him, earning a relieved and somewhat excited look from him as he quickly shows you to his car which is only a few meters away. Leon juggles his shopping whilst helping you into the front before storing what he's bought in the boot. You let him know where you live, to which he gives a happy nod and an 'ah!', and finally, you're on your way. Homebound at last.

You and Leon make great conversation on your way home. Almost like a dream. You hadn't spoken to him more than five minutes in one go before, and yet it felt like you were the closest of friends. He liked your music, he was inspired by your hobbies. Your dress sense enthralled him, and he always complimented you and piped up in disagreement whenever you put yourself down. On the short drive, he really opened up to you, and, by the time you were clambering out of his front seat, he was entirely cool and collected... and slightly attractive. You didn't read that.

As you lean through the window to give him one last thanks, you bump your head on the window frame. Tender laughs and giggles were shared, before he disappeared into the night. You stumble home and fall asleep in much a better mood than you would have been in should he not have shown up. He probably had no idea, you thought, but Leon saved your day. You'd have been moody, sore and disgruntled all over, but thanks to him, you slept easy and you dreamt happy.

You wondered how he'd be sleeping that night.

That was the last time you'd seen Mister Kennedy for quite some time. Moreover, the next time you did, he was not alone at all. Someone who you could only imagine to be his partner clung to his arm as they sauntered into the shop beside him. You weren't one to judge, especially not a book by its cover, but this new face simply exuded possessiveness. Ok, alright, he has a partner. That's not so bad-

Your heart cracks a little when Leon doesn't even look your way upon entering the shop. You imagine he always did, to check who was there, but this time he seemed to know you'd be there, and seemed un-phased. Alright, this is okay too. He can't be making eyes at me and getting all friendly with a special someone around. You watch as he's paraded around the shop by his presumed partner, who is certainly making evil eyes at you. They speak loudly at him, make him carry everything and overall just seem like bad news.

Quite frankly, it pisses you off.

Leon stays quiet as they walk around, occasionally replying to his accomplice, and even when it's time to pay, which they make him do, he doesn't look at you. Could he be ashamed, maybe? Maybe he was upset at you. Or maybe... No, did this person have an issue with him just speaking to people? That wasn't very cool at all, to put it all too lightly.

You tried not to let it affect you, you really did, but when the next few times you saw Leon that month and he had them glued to his shoulder, you felt your joy and confidence being eroded with force. Each time, you'd get no input or interaction from Leon, and his lovely, charming personality seemed to be a distant memory. From his partner, which you were now sure of, given that they'd made a point of kissing him in front of you, you received the lot. This included glares, snide comments and even a service complaint which fortunately your manager did not buy.

His silent visits left you alone with your thoughts, and it was agonising. Your mind wandered as you watched him, actively dodging glares from his partner. You didn't like the way they looked at you, a stranger, when really, what did they have to dislike about you? You didn't like the way they held him so close, pulling him in like he'd run if he had the chance. Well, would he? You didn't like how he never smiled around them. You missed that smile, so so much, but with his partner, he seemed scared to show it. Why was that?

Left to stew in your thoughts, you learned to hate a stranger pretty easily. In fact, you felt a formidable rage as you trudged home in the cold air that day. Your mind was clouded with chores and responsibilities, and everything you'd have to get done. Worst of all, you were obsessed with a stranger, and with uncovering his life, and really, you felt pathetic and stupid for being as such. You felt ready to give up, as though you had to. You felt hopeless. Whatever was happening to Leon was none of your business, and at this point, what could you do? What should you do?

You'd probably never even see him alone again, and if you tried to speak to him, what would you say? Would he listen? would he care?

But there he was, in front of you: a perfect mirage, turning onto your street, a block ahead. You can't believe your eyes, especially with the distance between you and the darkness of the night. Your legs, however, didn't doubt for a minute, and you found yourself running towards him. You did your best to silence your feet, but he still heard you, and turned to check out the noise. You slow to a sane pace before walking beside him, catching your breath. Thankfully, he seemed somewhat relieved. 'At least you weren't some armed mugger', or something, probably.

This was your chance. You were beside him now, walking, and he hadn't run, or shouted obscenities at you. And even better - he was alone. He looked rough, bags hung under his eyes and he was certainly due a shower, not that you minded at all. You knew that was (despite the cold shoulder) just as caring, considerate and kind under it all. Selfishly, really, you just wanted to see him smile. Fearing he'd be home and out of your clutches soon, you break the ice.

"Leon... I've been meaning to speak to you for a while, how are you?" You try your best to sound chirpy and bright, still trying to encourage some joy from him, but he seems tired, weary as he glances back at you.

"I've been great, thanks." He replies, but without a smile, you see straight through his lie. He wants to change the subject, to push something else. "Look, I'm really really sorry for ignoring you recently. I didn't mean to. It's just my.. You know, my special someone. A bit insecure, nothing really, just have to keep quiet with other people while they're around."

Suspicions confirmed. That was his partner and he was expected not to speak to you. His sugar-coating does not serve him at all, it merely lines your heart with lead, and you press the conversation further in an attempt to distract yourself as it sinks.

"I was... actually thinking about that lately. Look, I just think... I don't know how to say this but-"

"How are you, by the way? I'm sorry I didn't ask... I hope you didn't think me running you home was odd-", Leon cuts you off quickly. He seems to not want to speak about any of this at all. He seems to know precisely where you're going. If you didn't see the hurt in his body and hear it in his voice, you might get mad, but now all you feel is sorrow for him.

"Leon, I'm... Actually, no. I'm not alright. I need to speak to you. We're friends, right? Can you answer me some stuff? I'm just curious. Like.. Your partner... how long have you guys...?" Leon swallows thickly and drags his blown pupils from the ground to focus on you. He looks guilty, he seems reluctant. But, luckily for you, he seems to think he owes you. Furthermore, hearing you're not ok has seemed to panic him a little.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry yeah so... We've been together for a few months now. They're great honestly, love of my life, all that. Childhood sweethearts. Just got a few insecurities, having a hard time finding themselves, so if it's best if I give them my attention." He sounded so kind and attentive speaking about his partner in such a hushed whisper. Maybe what he was saying was all honest and true, but something just didn't sound right. It didn't feel good-natured. Partners can be insecure, it's alright, but stopping him from speaking to others? Meanwhile, your eyes wander, dragging your mind with them.

"And Leon, what about those marks on you? Is your partner responsible for those? Did you do-", You stop when you see Leon clench his fists. He seems uncomfortable, his hair falling into his face, hiding his flinching eyes. You've hit a nerve, and instantly you feel guilty and regret your actions. Leon starts to walk a little faster, but you feel like if you're going to get anywhere with him you can't let him escape, not this time. As you pass a bench, you gently place your hands on his arms, gripping him. The gentle giant he is, he stops quickly, and allows you to drag him down to sit with you.

"I'm not sure why it matters... But fine, if.. if we're friends we can chat like friends, right? Confidential, and stuff.." He trails off and looks away for a while, before picking up the subject again, but not to deny it, "They can just get a bit clingy. Not to worry, not their fault. Sometimes when we're doing things they just go a bit far, or you know, they make mistakes, accidents. Anger issues, sort of thing but-" Leon was about to insist that you drop it now or not tell anybody about this but you're not having it.

"Leon stop and listen to me, please. I know this is insane, but it's not right, okay??? None of this is right. None of this is correct. Have you been in a relationship before now?" Leon stares at you, his eyes wide, and the lump in his throat jumps once more as he finds himself unable to reply for a while. He's surprised by your boldness. He's amazed by how you've shifted from so calm, funny and cool to this. Now, you seem furious. He imagines you gripping the bridge of your nose and closing your eyes in disappointment if you weren't holding him in place.

His mind struggles to articulate a plan for his words and actions. Just as he's about to really panic though, a thought at the back of his head hits the nail- you're worried about him. You're worried for him. His face softens and he eases up a bit, looking concerned himself. Leon lets out a long sigh and closes his eyes, clenching his jaw and licking his top lip. And then, he moves a little to let your hands slide down his arms. He takes your hands in his and looks into your eyes.

"Thank you." He murmurs. "I understand what you're saying." Silence feels between the two of you, in which you both wonder what the other is thinking. And then, he answers your question. "They're my first. I haven't had anybody before." He sounds shy, almost stammering. Something within him seems ashamed. Does he think it's emasculating to have had few partners at his age? Or is he embarrassed at letting this happen to him? You recognise his struggle, and grip his hands reassuringly. You want him to feel safe. You want him to be happy.

"I get it, Leon. But please, listen to me when I tell you, It's not like that in the real world, alright?" you notice his gaze drift a little so you lean in to recapture his attention. "The person you love doesn't hit you. They don't berate you or put you down. They love you just as much as you love them. They look after you, and they want you to be happy. And they understand that you have social needs and things, and they let you fulfil them. Do you understand me?" Your voice is sweet yet firm. You don't intend to let him go without drilling this mindset into him. At least, you're going to give it your best shot.

You've called him out. You've summed him up. Not only is he fragile but he's exposed. Leon feels feeble, pathetic. He feels as though not only is he weak and unable to help himself, but as though he just exudes this image of himself. He's barely spoken to you, and now you know just how pitiful he is. He felt disgusting.

Meanwhile, you babble on as he stares straight past you, lost in a replay of the last few months of his life. He thought about the comments they'd made to him over time, the things they'd done and said, the things they'd asked or demanded of him. He thought about the horrible things they made him feel about himself.

And then he thought about you.

A stranger on a park bench, late at night, holding his hands and reassuring him. Trying to get him to see just how much he was missing out on. Not only that but you chatted away before him, and he wondered if it was the faint semblance of vanity he had left within him, or if you actually cared. He felt right, holding your hand. He felt safe and he felt respected. He zones back in, staring into your eyes as you finish your rant.

"I do understand, yes." he replies, voice low and thick. "Thank you for everything."

"I have something else to say."

"What is it? Are you okay?"

"I haven't known you long, Leon. But you seem like a really, really good guy. You don't deserve to be roughed around by anyone. You don't deserve to be insulted, or belittled. I don't know your living situation. No idea who pays the bills, but Leon. There's people out there who'd love the hell outta you and never place a finger on you unless you wanted them to, and even then it'd be because they love you, you hear?" Leon nods slowly, obediently as you speak, soaking in your words like a sponge.

"I never asked you for your name..." He rasps, once again, his mind seems to have drifted somewhat, but you understand. It's a horrible, touchy subject, and you're lucky he's put up with staying with you here in the dark. He could have up and left ages ago, you couldn't blame his brain for trying to avoid something so horrible. You sigh, how could you resist him? Reluctantly you give him your name, and earn your first smile from him in what seems to be an eternity. He squeezes your hands softly and shifts a little before looking at you very closely.

"Y/N. Please tell me. Do you think I should leave them?"

Jesus Christ. How do you answer that one?

"I know you just want my opinion, and that you might not do what I say, and that's perfectly fine," you say quietly, moving one hand to grip his shoulder supportively. You'd love to cup his face but that's far too tender. Far too intimate. "But, if they hurt you. if they upset you. If you feel used or disrespected or unloved, they are not for you. You've got tons of time left and you will find someone who loves you, if that's what you're looking for. Nothing this lowlife has taken from you or done to you can get in the way of that, alright?" You chuckle nervously as such a harsh set of words leaves you, but you go quiet when you see Leon's lips twitch.

He seems to be trying to smile, or to fight one back, you're not sure. His eyes appear watery, and his face sunken. He looks like he needs to rest. Then, he looks at you, you can tell he's about to change the subject.

"Thank you, wait. I want to do something before I forget. Could I please have your number, is that alright?"

"What for? Are you sure it's okay?" Leon freezes for a while, staring forward just as he's shuffling through his pockets to find his phone. It's not until the cold air hits your hand that you realise just how lovely his touch was. Leon looks back at you with feigned yet ignited bravery as he unlocks and begins to navigate his phone.

"I'm not going to let them stop me speaking to people anymore." You beam, wide and genuine, so glad to hear those words. For once, he's declaring his strength. He's fighting back. Leon can't help but join your smile as his eyes twinkle beneath the street lamps above. On the verge of tears, he smiles widely back at you. You exchange numbers gladly, and he calls you there and then just to make sure, as if afraid you're lying.

He makes his way home via yours, walking and talking with you and seeing you to your door. Such a gentleman, you think, even though he isn't yours. And to think his 'reward' is what it is. It horrifies you.

The tension is thick as you stand at your door, both swaying slightly as you stand together, exhausted. You conclude your conversation about work, everyday life, hobbies and things, and Leon watches you for a while, flinching a little as he thinks.

Unexpectedly, he pulls you in for a gentle hug. Nothing intimate, nothing over the top. In fact, he seemed almost scared to do it.

"Thank you. You've been so good to me." He whispers as he pulls away. You reassure him it was the least you could do, and jokingly bump him on the shoulder, spewing out something along the lines of 'you better make good on what I said' in the process. He flashes you another smile before watching you head indoors and returning home himself.

You hadn't heard from Leon in an entire week until a familiar pair of eyes creased and smiled at you from the entrance to your shop. That bell had never sounded better, orchestrating his presence. Your friend smiles at you and goes about his shopping, and, ringing him up, you can't help but notice the lack of his usual shopping habits before you. There was no cheap cider, there was no wine. There certainly weren't any ready-meals, just fresh foods, and an expensive whiskey.

You raise an eyebrow at him, and he quickly smirks at you, seeming proud of himself.

"I like to cook. And besides, I thought I'd celebrate." You knew exactly what that meant. He was providing for himself now, living how he wanted to. He must have finally spread his wings and escaped. You can't help but beam, entirely in awe. You want to be certain though, as you look at his refreshed face. He seems to have had a burden and a half lifted from him.

"Does this mean what I think it does, Leon?"

"It certainly does." He chuckles before leaning in and giving you a mock-serious tone, "And you better have been right about those tonnes of people being after me... I'll be waiting for them." He sounds confident, he sounds mischievous and playful. He sounds like a new man, but with that same inner sweetness. He pays for his things, and gives you extra for that bag from months ago. Watching him leave, you made a mental note: That memory was just one more on the list of 'sharp' things that made up Leon Kennedy.

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HI I REALLY HOPE YOU LIKED THIS!!! IT WAS REALLY HARD TO WRITE CUZ IT WAS SUPER EMOTIONAL AND THINGS BUT I SO SO HOPE YOU ENJOYED IT OR IT HELPED YOU IN SOME WAY. I really felt quite deep writing this (to put it lightly) and I hope the story can mean as much to you, especially those of you from America etc who have to put up with my weird spellings and mannerisms. Anyway, I hope this is alright for you, and thanks a billion for all of your support, ever!!!

I'm sorry if this one hit a nerve or two, I really hope nobody was upset or offended.

#resident evil #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy #re leon #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy fanfic #fanfiction #fluff #hurt/comfort #re4 leon #leon s kennedy #re2 leon

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agaypanic · 1 year

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HEVAKC SN HIHIHI

can i request benny with a girlfriend that can see ghosts? like she’s a medium and talks to them and stuff 🫶🫶

Spooky Talks (Benny Weir X Medium!Reader)

Masterlist

Request Something!

Summary: Whitechapel is full of different supernaturals. Benny finally learns about his girlfriend’s ability, which is talking to ghosts.

***

Benny never said anything when he saw you stare intently at a wall or at someone you didn't really know. Well, you never seemed to stare at the person, almost through them. Your boyfriend just assumed that you had a habit of staring off.

Sometimes he'd walk into a room and see you talking to the air, quickly turning towards him when you sensed his presence. He just shrugged it off; maybe you just talked to yourself sometimes and would get really into your own conversations.

But after a while, Benny wanted to know if he was right or if there was something else going on. But he didn't want to make a big deal out of it, so he decided to ask you about your behavior when you two were alone.

"Can I ask you something?" Benny broke the silence that drifted over you as you two were walking to your house.

"You just did." You replied, laughing when he jokingly pushed you away, only to pull you back in by wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

"So, I've been noticing that sometimes you're, like, talking to yourself. But it's like you're actually talking to someone, even though you're the only person in the room. Or sometimes you'll be staring off somewhere, and there's nothing there, but the way you're looking makes it seem like someone's there." You nodded, unsure of what he was getting at.

"Yeah. What about it?"

"Well, is that just like, a thing that you do? Or am I crazy and unknowingly interrupting conversations and stuff?"

You thought he was playing around at first, but then you caught the look of genuine concern on his face. It was then and there that it occurred to you that you had never told your boyfriend, or any of your friends, about your own supernatural powers.

"Oh! Yeah, I can talk to ghosts." You decided to just leave it at that. You and your friends saw crazy things every day; your being able to talk to the dead was less shocking to you than some of your friends being vampires, another being able to see the future, and your boyfriend being a wizard.

Benny didn't have the same sentiment.

"What do you mean you can talk to ghosts?!" You jumped at his sudden loud voice. Thankfully, nobody was around as you two were walking home. People in Whitechapel thought you guys were weird enough; word getting out that you could talk to people no one could see wouldn't really help. "Why have you never told me this before?"

"I kinda forgot, I guess." You smiled at his surprised look. "It's normal to me. I've been able to do it since I was little."

"Wait, so is this, like, a ParaNorman situation?" You couldn't help but laugh.

"I guess? Although, there's not that many people just hanging around the streets of Whitechapel. I see most of them in the cemetery or around their relatives."

The two of you started walking again, Benny still asking questions about your abilities.

"So, do you have a favorite ghost to talk to?"

"Oh, definitely! Her name is Beatrice, and she's really nice. I've been teaching her all the modern ways to talk and stuff; she's from the early 1900s."

"Where do you usually see her?"

"My attic, but sometimes she'll come into my room or the living room."

Benny suddenly yanked you in the opposite direction of your house. He sped up his pace, not slowing down when you had started tripping over your feet from the sudden movement.

"Where are we going? I thought we were gonna go to my house."

"Absolutely not. I'm not going to a house that has a ghost in it."

#benny weir #benny weir x reader #my babysitters a vampire x reader #my babysitter's a vampire #agaypanic

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cheesecakezyum · 2 years

Text

Being Courted By Macaque. <3

Work has been kicking my fucking ass man. Stuck to doing headcanons for a request on Ao3 instead of a full on chapter. Like, I'm pooped OUT. Miss spitting out 2,000 words in an hour </3

Probs gonna remake this, we'll see. Def gonna add more stuff + images— Or I'll actually make this a one-shot. I just need to destress :D

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♡- Things have been strange. Well, stranger than usual when one of your closest friends was a demon.

♡- And at first you couldn’t seem to put your finger on it! Others had mentioned it, but you just hadn’t seemed to come up with a viable conclusion to your concerns.

♡- I like to think that despite them having more humanistic ways of living, manners etc– Both demons still have suppressed, more on the feral side type of urges despite how long they’ve adapted to civilization or not. It’s something that they can’t help, ingrained in their programming from the start. When it comes to finding a potential mate and courting them, this would definitely be included.

♡- It takes Macaque a genuinely long time for him to realize he has feelings for you in the first place. I mean– dude has serious commitment/trust issues.

♡- Even being his friend took outstanding patience. You always told him he was worth it though, which would result in the usual roll of his eyes with a passive grin.

♡- He really doesn’t believe he’s pining for you until it’s too late to go back. Although reading others is terribly easy for him, he’s blind to feelings of his own at times. It would just– click for him one night when he realizes you’ve been in his mind much more than usual. And it's just

“Oh?

Oh.

Fuck.”

♡- Courting is new to him, no doubt. Although you weren’t the first person to have caught his eye you were the first person he’s wanted to take seriously in who knows how long. I mean, He cares about you! He wasn’t going to say that things were smooth from your first few interactions, but now he genuinely wonders how he’s lived so long without someone like you– right by his side.

♡- So he’s willing to try! His attempts rely solely on instincts, but his goals are showing you how great of a mate he’d be!

♡- The first thing you take notice of is how often he’s been grooming you. Usually you volunteered to detangle his fur when it became matted; Or just weave your fingers through his hair while the two of you rested.

♡- Usually he’d take any chance he’d get to tease. Pass a compliment, flirt– anything that might get a rise out of you. But he just seems so out of it whenever he’s close to you. Lost in thought.

♡- Most likely it’s because he’s still trying to wrap his head around the fact that he’s very much into you. Like, really? Why now and not ever before? It just didn’t make sense to him whatsoever.

♡- While you never had seemed to mind, sometimes he tried to pick through your hair way more than usual. His nails would sometimes brush against your scalp, and hurt from the repetitive motions. And whenever you mentioned it while he was in the process, it's like he’s practically in a daze! Concentration beyond belief, to where it takes him a bit to snap out of his thoughts and quickly brush it off and tell you to continue whatever you were working on/distracted with before.

♡-He loves holding you, being held by you, touching you, you touching him. Just– gods. Cuddles were mandatory on days when one of or both of you were just tired of shit altogether, platonically. Although, that was before these feelings for you surfaced.

♡- What was different on that part was the excessive rubbing. Like, rubbing his face alongside yours, your neck, shoulders. Not only does it tickle, but sometimes it can get a bit uncomfy when all he’s doing is moving around when you just want to relax.

♡- You never knew the reasoning for his actions and hadn’t asked.

♡- You have to admit the purring feels nice though!

♡- Once you had asked him if it had good benefits similar to how a cat’s purrs promote healing; His expression was priceless.

♡- Your final straw was when you told him you were gonna bring some food so the two of you could spend one of your free days off binging some show which had piqued your interest a while ago. But when you had opened the doors of the dojo you were just met with–

♡- A nest. What had seemed like a nest? You couldn’t honestly tell. It had really been a circle of blankets wrapped around each other.

“What… Is that?”

Seemingly having been caught in the act of still preparing it, his eyes went back and forth from you and the mess of blankets on the floor.

He was frozen in place as he tried to think of an excuse for his actions.

“Uh. Ah– A place to eat? Got a bit bored of our usual spot.” Smooth.

♡- There was a long period of silence as the two of you watched the show from your computer. Besides the thumping of his tail on the wooden floors and the low volume of the show which was being played, It took about 3 episodes before you ultimately spoke up.

“What’s been up with you?”

“What?”

“I mean, like– in general. You’ve been… different?” It was the best way you could’ve possibly explained.

You paused the show. It could wait as you explained all of the changes surrounding him and his behavior. And he just responded as simply as ever, like it was obvious to anyone.

“Oh. Courting you.”

♡- He never really hid it from you, in all honesty. Just kinda thought you got the hint. And you had to give him that– you never rejected any of his advances.

♡- The rest of the night was spent having a very long talk about the differences between courting a human and a demon.

─────────────────

brainrot honestly

#lego monkie kid #lmk #lmk x reader #monkie kid #lmk macaque #macaque x reader #reader insert #six eared macaque #macaque headcanons

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asirensrambles · 8 months

Text

3 times someone read to Fenris + 1 time he did the same

Flufftober Day 5: Fenris/female Hawke x + 1 (can be a classic "5+1 things" [or any number you want] creation or literally a plus one for an event or really anything else you can think of) I could only come up with 3 scenarios, so that's what I went with!

@flufftober

Fenris' ears burned, and he wanted nothing more than to bolt. However, that would have been rude, and Hawke had seemed so genuinely thrilled to present him with the book. Gathering his courage, Fenris risked looking up to meet her eyes. The pity, scorn, or disgust he was expecting to see was nowhere to be found. Instead, she looked thoughtful more than anything.

"Well, I guess we'll just have to teach you then. I could read the first chapter aloud, see if you like it?" Dumbstruck, Fenris could do nothing more than nod. He managed to settle into one of the seats in front of the fireplace as Hawke began the story.

Although the reading lessons with Hawke were going well, Fenris still couldn't manage much more than children's stories. Reading over a job contract? Forget it. Unfortunately, Hawke was out at Sundermount helping Merrill with Maker knows what. It was with reluctant steps and near dragging feet that Fenris made his way into Aveline's office. As he entered, the Captain of the Guard looked up. Upon seeing Fenris, Aveline tilted her head ever so slightly in confusion. Usually, the elf avoided the city guard like the plague.

"I need a favor," Fenris blurted out. Being surrounded by so many armed enforcers had him on edge.

Aveline's eyebrows nearly shot off her face, but she quickly schooled her expression to a more neutral one. "I'll help if I can. What do you need."

Fenris crossed the room and shoved the contract onto the desk. Unable to meet her eyes, he glared at it, as though the document had personally offended him.

"This is a contract for a job I was approached for. I was wondering if...if there's any reason I shouldn't sign it."

The elf's inability to read was something that, while the group knew, was never really spoken of directly. Although Fenris couldn't see it, Aveline's expression softened in understanding.

"I'd be happy to look over it, see if they snuck anything in there that shouldn't be."

"........thank you."

The Hanged Man was busier than normal this particular Friday. After being jostled one too many times, Fenris fled to Varric's quarters upstairs. Almost immediately, he felt himself relax as the impending possiblility of pain flaring across his skin faded away in the open space. To his surprise, Varric was actually in his quarters. While that in and of itself wasn't strange, it was strange on a Friday night. Curious as to what would have the usually social dwarf squirreled away from everyone, Fenris padded over.

"What are you doing?"

Varric nearly jumped out of his seat. "Maker's breath, Fenris! I'm gonna have to put a bell on you."

Fenris smirked. "You can try."

The dwarf just shook his head, before turning back to the pile of papers in front of him. "I'm trying to catch up on some business correspondence, but for some unfathomable reason, one of my partners decided to use Tevene." Varric held up the letter for Fenris to see.

While Hawke's lessons were paying off, trying to match the letters for Andrastian sounds with their Tevene counterparts sent his brain short-circuiting. "I never learned to read Tevene."

Varric squinted at him. "It's the same alphabet, I should be able to read it to you, and you can translate for me?"

Fenris shrugged. It wasn't like he had anything better to do with his night. "Sure."

+ 1.

Although it felt foolish, Anders assured him it would help. Apparently, there was a good chance Hawke could still hear him, even as she lay unconscious, recovering from the fight with the Arishok. Fenris reading to her would let her know she wasn't alone, give her mind something to focus on and claw it's way back to. While he was skeptical, Anders was obnoxiously knowledgeable about healing and the practice of medicine, so if he said it would help, Fenris was willing to try. So he picked up the book from the nightstand, opened it to the bookmark, and began to read. It was slow, sometimes stumbling going, but Fenris pressed on. A few days later, when a trembling hand brushed against his own, he knew it had been worth it.

#fenris x hawke #fenris x femhawke #flufftober2023 #day 5 #dragon age 2 #my writing #fenris

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mamaspresley · 2 years

Text

happy birthday | austinbutler

note reading this request killed me bruh who hurt u anon?? i asked the discord gc how i was even supposed to go about this... its so sad. but i love it. so here u go! wc 1,934 tw austin literally forgetting ur birthday. wtf.

req yes

austin was running around like crazy as of recently. it was the last few weeks of shooting so everything was falling into place, baz was starting to align all the scenes and everyone could begin to see everything coming together, but that also meant that the cast had even more pressure on them. everyone was excited to be done but they were also a little sad — austin had explained it as a bittersweet feeling, relieved that the stress of the last two years was finally coming to close, but upset that he would have to go back to a normal lifestyle, for what was normal for him.

you always took pride in austin’s work, he was a phenomenal actor and you supported him as much as you could, whether that be going to see his works or being there whenever he needed. it was difficult, at times though, when he’d be gone for long periods of time or threw himself so far into his work that he seemed to brush you off. it was often, and you knew he didn’t mean to ignore you, but it just happened naturally although usually it passed quickly. this time, though, was different.

you hadn’t spoken a real conversation with each other in about a week, you guessed, and hadn’t really seen him in days. you always knew he came home, you’d hear the door open late at night and felt him crawl into bed with you, but most times you were too tired, and so was he, to stay up and spend time with each other, so he’d greet you with a kiss to your shoulder and then pass out moments later. you missed your boyfriend, but you knew how seriously he took his career and had made the commitment to support him when you first got together. you couldn’t complain — technically, you had signed up for this.

it wasn’t until your birthday that you ever said anything.

“you’re so old now! i miss you.” you were on a call with your sister, pulling into your driveway as she was connected to the bluetooth in your car. “how is everything? got any big plans for your birthday?”

“yeah, actually. austin isn’t needed today so i think we’re gonna do something,” you answered, the smile on your face being your first genuine one in a while. you were excited to see your boyfriend, actually spend time with him for once in what felt like forever. “he’ll be done filming in a couple weeks but he’s been so busy lately, i feel like i haven’t seen him in years,” you explained, pressing the button to open your garage.

“that’s good. tell him i say hi. you still want me to come down for the premiere?”

“yeah, definitely. i’m going with him to cannes but whenever it gets to theatres here we’ll get you a ticket,” you said, glancing over as you noticed the second garage door lift open and austin’s car reverse out. “can i call you back in a bit? i just got home.”

“yeah, for sure. love you.”

“love you too.” you hung up with your sister, then honked your horn to grab austin’s attention. the boy looked over, and his lips curled into a soft smile as he lifted a hand to wave at you. he looked tired, hair wet from the shower you assumed he had just taken and his thin smile not quite reaching his eyes. he still looked as pretty as the day you’d met him so many years ago, but you knew he was exhausted. this movie was kicking the shit out of him, and more for his case than yours you couldn’t wait for it to be over.

you rolled your passenger window down, him following suit, and you leaned into the passenger seat as you yelled to him. “where are you going? i thought you had the day off.”

“baz just called, i guess he needs me to come and help him with piecing together a bit of the scenes,” austin explained, and you felt your heart drop a little in your chest. “shouldn’t be long, though. just a couple hours. i’ll be home for supper i think. you’re not working tonight, right?”

he forgot about your birthday. “no, i’m not.”

“okay, i’ll see you later then. i love you!” austin called, giving you a smile before continuing to back out of the driveway. he hadn’t even waited for you to say i love you back, and he had obviously forgotten why both of you had the day off.

you tried to shake it off as you pulled into the garage, and up into the house. you were greeted by your pup, who jumped on you as soon as you walked in the door and barked up at you. at least someone remembered your birthday. “hi, baby,” you cooed, a smile forming on your face as you knelt down to play with the small puppy.

you spent the rest of the day not doing much, watching netflix and answering calls or texts from your friends and family who reached out to tell you happy birthday. by the time six o’clock came around, you were starving so you made yourself something light to eat in case austin came home. it was ten o’clock by the time you realized, and you had nothing better to do so you went upstairs to take a shower and get ready for bed.

by the time you were getting out of the shower, your towel wrapped around you and toothbrush in hand, you heard the main door downstairs open and close, and you sighed. you wanted him to come home but to be honest, you were dreading it. it hurt, austin forgetting your birthday, but you tried to ignore the feeling as best you could. you continued brushing your teeth, hearing austin yell into the house, “y/n? you up, baby?”

you spat out the toothpaste, calling back to him. “upstairs!” moments later you heard his footsteps walking into the bedroom, and the sliding door into your bathroom opened, revealing austin with his dark hair and grey sweatpants, a white t-shirt, and eyes circled dark with eyeliner. you looked up at him, speaking through your toothbrush. “you had to film today?”

“yeah, baz wanted me to retake a couple things,” he explained, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. you mumbled something, finishing up before washing your face and moving into your closet to change. by the time you walked back out, wearing only a t-shirt of austin’s, he was lying in bed, shirt off with his sweatpants hanging low on his hips as he laid on his stomach, scrolling through his phone. you said nothing as you crawled into bed, reaching over to turn the light off.

“you okay?” austin asked, not glancing up from his phone but offering a hand, reaching over as he draped his arm around your chest, rubbing your shoulder.

“mhm.” you rolled over onto your side, back facing him. it was then that he looked over at you, but you couldn’t see. he retracted his hand and went back to his phone, deciding to ignore it. you were probably just tired.

it wasn’t until filming was done, austin technically being completely finished with the project, that he realized he had missed your birthday. it was the first day he had nothing to do, when he was lounging around the house all day, waiting for you to get home.

that day was olivia’s birthday. he had reached out to her first thing in the morning, texting her that he wishes her a good day, and that’s when it hit him. your birthday was just about a month before olivia’s, but he couldn’t remember doing anything for it. that’s because he forgot.

laying back in bed, austin ran his face over his hands. fuck. he was an idiot. he glanced over to your side of the bed, sheets still tangled from when you had gotten up and gone to work hours before without a word. usually you kissed him goodbye, or he’d do the same to you depending on who left first, but you hadn’t done that in a while. austin didn’t think much of it until he realized why.

this wasn’t something that he felt comfortable just texting you about, so he decided to wait until you got home. he had gone out and bought some groceries and things he needed, having a plan on how he would surprise you. it was about 6:30 when you got home, finally, austin felt like he had been waiting forever. as soon as he heard the garage door open, he scrambled into the kitchen, grabbing the bouquet of roses he had bought earlier, and positioned himself leaning against the island counter. he felt stupid, but he felt stupider knowing that he had forgotten something as big as this — and gone weeks without realizing, mind you.

“hi, my love,” austin greeted as you walked into the living area. you paused, your feet frozen in place as you looked

at him, dressed in black jeans and a black long sleeve, hair recently dyed back to his natural sandy blonde. he held red roses in his hands, a nice contrast to the all black he wore. “how was work?”

“it was fine… what is this?” he had candles on the table in the middle of the room, a nice smell of something cooking on the stove, and the lights in your house were dimmed slightly, the night sky doing nothing to light up the room save for the moonlight.

“it’s a… birthday present,” he said, and when you looked back at him, you could see the nervous look on his face. austin wasn’t a generally nervous person, as far as being uncertain of himself went. you could tell this was eating at him, though, and you felt your heart skip as a beat as he began walking towards you. “i’m sorry.”

you dropped your purse to the floor, pressing your lips into a line.

“i’m the worst person in the world,” he said, placing the roses on the table next to the candles and reached out, cupping your face in his hands. “i love you. and i’m sorry i forgot your birthday. i’m a fucking idiot and i don’t understand how you haven’t gotten right pissed off at me yet. i don’t deserve you.”

you didn’t say anything, just accepted the hug that he offered you. austin held your head to his chest, his fingers moving to run through your hair soothingly. you could hear his heart beating only inches away from your ear, and you closed your eyes. “i love you too,” you mumbled, fisting at his shirt. “but i am mad at you. a little bit.”

“why do you think i cooked and got you flowers and ran you a bubble bath?”

“you ran me a bubble bath?” you asked, pulling away from the boy. he nodded, and you pouted your lower lip before standing on your tippy toes to press a kiss to his lips. austin didn’t let you pull away so soon, though, as he moved a hand to your jaw, holding you firmly as he bent down and kissed you back deeply. your tongues danced with each other, lips wet and soft as your breath mixed together and you couldn’t remember the last time he had kissed you like this. “is there room for you in the tub, too?” you questioned, pulling away from him.

austin licked his lips, eyes cloudy as he chuckled. “i’m sure we can make room,” he mumbled, lips finding yours once more as he deepened the kiss again.

➳ @mesbouquins @reeldeal @suspiciousbutler @sagesolsticewrites @shimmeringlights44 @bonzaiblitzz @butlersbitxh @floralcyanide @sassy-ahsoka-tano @austin-butlers-gf @anangelwhodidntfall @she-is-juniper @butler-on-beale-street

#austin butler #austin butler fic #austin butler fanfic #austin butler imagine #elvis 2022 #elvis movie #elvis presley #baz luhrmann #jackie writes #mamaspresley

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pumpkinspiie · 7 months

Text

love sacrifices…

(warnings. angst. you have been warned.)

definitely gonna make a part 2.

Forced to act married for a mission to get intel, Ghost had his arm linked with mine as he walked beside me. "If you try anything stupid, don't think there won't be any consequences." His words were shard as he glanced down at me, pulling me into the building.

"Be on your best behavior. I'm not messing around here." He whispered, his deep voice croaking slightly. Our matching wedding rings glistened under the strobe of lights at the party, a fake symbol of love that made us both sick.

I couldn't say anything, I just nodded silently. This whole act made me sick. My dad made me marry him for this stupid mission although it didn't feel like a mission. I hated it at first, but over time I grew to tolerate it. Lies my inner thoughts screamed at me. I was in love with Ghost, but that didn't matter, I knew he would never reciprocate.

"Pathetic." I could practically hear Ghost's thoughts as he looked around the room, his eyes filled with disgust. His thoughts continued to berate me. I could hear him calling me "Whore." and "Idiot." among other things. He pulled me deeper into the event, the music from the main room flooding in the small foyer. "You'd better remember your place in this." He hissed, holding me tightly by my wrists.

It was my turn to hiss, mine was just out of pain. it wasn't uncommon that Ghost acted like this. He was normally like this, calling me names, berating me. However in front of others, he was the sweetest person known to man. Sometimes I wished Ghost could act like this all the time.

We made it inside the huge golden lit venue. It looked really nice and expensive. These types of things were what I looked forward to the most, this was my escapism. I took in the venue, taking more note of the expensive tables filled with food, the chandelier casting a soft glow on the guests. As I looked around I caught Ghost looking at me, a genuine smile on his face. This made me sick, as I knew it wasn't true. "This is the part you like." He whispered, glancing in my direction.

I ignored him. I usually stayed quiet during these things, just taking in the Euphoria feeling of it all. After twenty minutes of Ghost and I being here, we split up. I sat at the bar drinking, while Ghost sat there on the other side of the room flirting with other women here. HOW DARE HE?!?! Ghost smirked to the woman in question, who was drooling all over him. "I'll see you later tonight." He whispered, his British accent sending flutters through the womans heart, and sending waves of anger through me. As I sat sipping my drink, watching Ghost's every move, I felt a tap on my back.

I turned around facing a handsome guy. He looked like he was around 30-37, he had dark brown eyes, salt and pepper hair and he was built like a sex god. "Yes?" I spoke softly catching myself blushing.

He smirked, raising his eyebrow seductively, leaning in closer to whisper in my ear, his breath hot against my neck. "Do you come here often?" he breathed, his voice like butter. His words made my legs jelly, my face red but all I could do was nod.

I nodded. HE’S SO HOT! I thought in my head, looking at him.

My mind was racing with what he was thinking, his thoughts filled with lust and desire. It made me weak, my knees trembling. “Tell me your name, love.” He breathed, pulling me closer.

Omg. He has an accent! “Maria.” I spoke softly.

“Beautiful name for a beautiful woman…” He breathed, his voice filled with lust and desire. He pulled me up onto his lap, planting a kiss on my neck, nibbling on my earlobe.

I shifted in my seat, looking down while blushing Hard. “what’s yours?” I questioned.

“I’m a man of mystery, love. But you can call me anything you like~” He breathed into my ear, his voice turning me to putty. He leaned back in his chair, pulling me with him, my face inches from his. This man was killing me, slowly.

He smirked, planting another kiss on my neck, and nibbling on my ear again, his free hand stroking my arms. “You smell so nice, Maria…” He whispered, his voice sending your mind racing.

“Thank you….Sir.”

“A good girl.” He whispered, nibbling on my neck as he pulled me into his lap fully, pressing me against him, his body warm and welcoming, arms wrapped around me. “Tell me, Maria. Do you want to come to my place?” He whispered into my ear.

I nodded, then looked back at Ghost, seeing as he was still flirting with those women. “Sure.”

simon riley x reader

#call of duty #ghost #ghost x reader

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enassbraid · 1 year

Note

hiiiiiiiiiiii!!!!

i literally love the way you write akito so. can i request akito x fem! reader who has like a younger sister whos 4-5ish? younger sis is all over him when he comes over like always tryna be on his lap and play with him and readers just like "shit now how am i gonna spend time with my bf" LMAOO I SEE TIKTOKS ON THIS AND IM JUST LIKE "aw🥹"

have a wonderhoyful day 💙

-> 𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞 & 𝐌𝐢𝐝𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

Having a little sister can be fun, until your boyfriend starts spending more time with her than you..!?

With Akito Shinonome, fem!reader

One of the first things Akito learned about you is that you have a little sister, really little sister. He thought it was funny that even though you were the same age, he was the youngest sibling and you were the eldest. Different upbringings that didn’t interfere with meeting each other.

You didn’t talk about her a lot, but enough for your boyfriend to wanna meet her. And since his house had a tender atmosphere due to his father and sister, why not bring him over to yours so he can meet your sister?

When you told her the news, she was just as excited as Akito. She hears you always talking about him and to him over the phone, maybe excited was an understatement. She was ecstatic. It didn’t take long before she asked what Akito’s favorite color was so she could make him a colorful card & other crafts.

“(Name) (Name), do you think he’ll like this!?”

“Of course he will (Sister’s name). If you make it I’m sure he’ll love it.”

Somehow, you were more patient for Akito’s arrival than your sister was, and she hasn’t even met the guy! She was practically bouncing off the walls, with a huge grin on her face. Deep down, you were happy that she was so happy. Some siblings wouldn’t want to meet their sister/brother’s partner in fear of them taking them away. But she wasn’t like that at all.

Every little sound outside has her looking out the window, scanning across the scenery in search of a ‘tall orange haired guy’ as you described to her. When she finally caught sight of him, she was already opening the door before he even got to it.

“I’m here- oh. Are you..?”

“It’s me! (Name’s) sister, (Sister’s name)! And you’re ‘Kito!”

“…’Kito..?”

Typically, only you would call him that. Anyone else who called him that even in a joking matter he told to stop. But Akito didn’t know if you referred to him as “‘Kito” to your sister or if she said it by herself. Either way, he thought it was adorable.

“Right, introductions. Akito, this is (Sister’s name), (Sister’s name), this is Akito, or ‘Kito, whatever you wanna call him!”

For some reason, Akito was okay with that. Maybe it was because it was your little sister, and he would feel terrible about telling her off. Before he knew it, she was pulling him into the living room and proudly showing the card she made. It was bright, very bright orange crayon scribbles and other colors like blue & pink. On it said “Welcome home Akito.”

Home? Although this wasn’t his real home, it felt like it. And it started feeling more like that the more time he spent with your sister. It’s been about an hour since he showed up, and he’s yet be alone with you.

Surprisingly, your boyfriend is really good with kids. He wasn’t harsh or mean with her at all, but genuinely nice. It felt strange seeing him like that, but it was relieving to see they were getting along so well. But…

“Okay (Sister’s name), I’m gonna go spend some time with (Name), do you go to sleep around this time?”

“I can stay up later, I wanna hang out with you and (Name)!”

You’re kidding… here you thought you’d get the quality time you desperately wanted with Akito. You love your sister, dearly. But man you wish she was asleep right now. It’s already past her bedtime, so usually it wouldn’t be a pain to get her to sleep. But since she’s so ecstatic, it might be harder.

“Actually, (Sister’s name), I think it’s too late for you to be up. ‘Kito will be here in the morning still, so you can see him then.”

“But-“

“No buts, we can’t have you losing sleep, off to bed!”

Solemnly and tiredly, she made her way to her room. You honestly felt bad, but it was already getting late, and you’ve yet too even spend alone time with Akito. You and him quietly headed to your room, where he threw himself on the bed.

It was silent for a moment, a comfortable silence. It was clear he was a bit drained from keeping up with a kid’s energy for so long, it was also clear you missed him a bit.

“I saw that face, you were jealous, weren’t you?”

“I wasn’t jealous, just felt a little left out, y’know?”

He chuckled and patted the spot on the mattress next to him, silently asking for you to lay with him. Of course, you obliged. This was time time you’ve been looking forward to all day.

He quickly wrapped his arms around you before kicking the blankets over you two. He always did this, using his legs and feet to get the blanket over you and him because he didn’t want to let go of you.

“So now I have two (Last name)’s to focus on, huh?”

“I guess so… but y’know this alone time if gonna be less frequent now right?”

“It’s okay, we still always have my place. Besides, I think I like hanging out with your sister more than you.”

You softly punched his arm as he laughed. You could tell he enjoyed meeting your sister. Before, you never saw him interact with kids, so you had no idea he was good with them until now. It was endearing in a way.

“Goodnight Akito… love you..”

“Goodnight (Name), I love you too. Sleep well..”

#project sekai #prsk #pjsk #pjsekai #project sekai x reader #pjsk x reader #pjsekai x reader #akito shinonome #akito #akito shinonome x reader #akito x reader #akito fluff #project sekai fluff #dor writes

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autisticlancemcclain · 2 years

Text

part one

Their relationship only improves after the Incident. Keith finds it’s hard to call someone whose secret you’re guarding your rival, so. Friends it is. (In all honesty, he really likes being friends with Lance. He’s sweet and thoughtful and genuinely really funny, especially when Keith’s no longer the punchline. He also gives really excellent hugs, although Keith will never say this to his face. Another cool thing is the fact that Keith is now friends with a literal mermaid. A mermaid. He’s always been a bit of a cryptid hunter, and now he gets to see all the cool shit up close and personal! Like, Lance is incredibly fast underwater. Wicked fast, really. He’s like a torpedo. The first time Keith convinced him to go swimming — and hadn’t that taken forever! — he’d had to take Lance in the dead of night, after assuring him no one else was awake. They’d dragged a huge wardrobe all the way to the pool so they could place it in front of the door, along with locking it. Lance had still been pretty nervous, so Keith had challenged him to a race to cheer him up. Lance had made it to the other end of the enormous Altean swimming pool so fast Keith had been convinced teleportation was one of his powers. It wasn’t, but that was the day that Keith found out that Lance did, however, have other water related powers — the bitch could waterbend. For real. To say Keith geeked out about it was an understatement. He and Lance had played in the pool until the wee hours of the morning, pretending to be soldiers from the Water Tribe in ATLA. It had been a blast. Genuinely the most fun Keith had had in years, but hanging out with Lance was kinda just like that. He was a fun guy.)

As Lance’s friend and secret-keeper, it became Keith’s job to come up with a decent excuse whenever Lance has to swiftly leave the room for mermaid-related catastrophes.

It is not an easy job.

Last week, for example, it had been Pidge’s turn on dishes after supper. Lance was keeping her company, sitting on the counter and telling some wild story about him and his sisters (Keith used to think these stories were fabricated, but after hearing about how Lance and his sisters literally became mermaids because they were dicking around a haunted moonpool on Halloween, he’s certain the McClains are just as wild as Lance says they are. Like, Keith is 76% certain no one else on Earth has simply become a mermaid from making an impulsive decision. That has to be a McClain thing).

Keith was drawing on the kitchen table, listening to their conversation but not participating, because he always wants to hang out with people and never wants to admit it. Lance likes to say he’s like a cat, which is regrettably pretty accurate.

Lance had made some silly joke, Keith doesn’t remember what, and Pidge had rolled her eyes and splashed him playfully. Lance eyes had gone impossibly wide, pupils so wide they looked black instead of their usual warm brown, and positively fled the room in visible panic.

Pidge had turned to Keith, pretty panicked herself. “What did I do? Is he okay?”

Keith froze, completely blanked on what to say, but then it came to him: “He has explosive diarrhea,” he blurted, and immediately hated himself for it. Hoo, boy, Lance was gonna whoop his ass.

Pidge wrinkled her nose, turning back to her dishes. “Ew. I mean, I hope he’s okay, but ew.”

And that had been that. Not fucking easy. (And yeah. Lance had been mad. He’d been so mad that Keith wouldn’t have been surprised to see steam coming out of his ears as Lance yelled, but in the middle of his sentence — “Fucking explosive diarrhea? Really, Keith? That’s the best you could come up with?” — he’d interrupted himself with a laugh so strong he’d doubled over, tears coming to his eyes. Keith figured he was forgiven. It was kind of funny, after all.)

As more time goes on, though, Keith finds himself having an easier time covering for Lance. It almost becomes second nature. He also becomes excellent at preventing incidents before they happen — if Lance and water are in the same room, Keith notices, and plants himself in between them. It’s become almost subconscious, at this point. Like, yesterday, they were visiting some planet, and they entered this grand hall for a meeting, and there was this massive waterfall cascading on the left side. Keith literally grabbed Lance’s arm and moved him to the side. Lance had smiled all big and squinty at him, hip-checking him in thanks.

It was a nice feeling.

Unfortunately, his newfound closeness with Lance did not escape the others’ notice. Shiro, in particular, was a giant pain in the ass about it.

“You and Lance seemed to enjoy each other’s company today,” he’d tease frequently. There were only so many times Keith could tell him to fuck off without sounding ridiculous, and Keith was rapidly approaching that limit.

Stupid older brothers. So annoying.

It’s pretty dope, though, all in all. The main downside is really only the toll it seems to take on Lance. He isn’t big on lying, and every time they lie to the team he looks more and more sad, which Keith hates. If you went back in time and told him he’d debase himself to telling Shiro’s horrible dad jokes to make Lance McClain laugh and smile again, he’d direct you to the nearest hospital.

But look at him now.

Now, he feels like he’d do anything to keep Lance happy, which is embarrassing but not something he knows how to fix. Honestly, his main solution is to convince Lance to tell the rest of the team his big fishy secret, but even the thought terrifies him. He’s convinced he’ll be kicked off the team. Keith doesn’t know how to explain to him that the team would literally fall to pieces without him.

For now, though, he works on building their relationship. So long as he and Lance are friends, Lance will trust him, and maybe then he can convince Lance to trust the rest of the team, too.

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estbela · 2 months

Note

For the favorite character ask game, could you answer for Ro? :)

Of course!! Although, you mean all 50 questions or just specific ones? Because while it may take some time, I could answer for him all 50 because I love him so much <3333 and I'm insane enough to do it.

Actually nevermind I'm gonna try to answer all 50 because I am insane :]

Do you project onto this character?

Yeah and I think at this point everyone knows it!! Some of my headcanons for Ro are inspired by traits of mine, I guess? Also me making him AFAB trans genderqueer in modern times is kinda inspired by me, haha(although the way my gender works is different from my HCs for her). Some stuff that happen to him in my stories are also kind of inspired by myself, in a way? I mean, I kinda have an image in my head of how her childhood went, and in some ways I've made it similar to mine (although obviously it's pretty different too)

2. Did you always like this character?

Well, not exactly? When I first discovered Hetalia, I did like Ro, but I focused on other characters a lot more. But I guess I always did.

3. What first drew you to this character?

Well... the fact that he's the personification of my country, I suppose? I also like his design a lot, and his personality.

4. Did you initially dislike/hate this character?

Not really. I always liked him.

5. If this character were a woman, would you honestly still like them? Or in reverse, what if they were a man?

Well, of course!!! I think his character can work really well as a guy or a girl or whatever really(I love him so much I'm giving him all the genders lol). Sometimes I do change his gender/genderbend him depending on the story I wanna write.

6. Do you have any nicknames or pet names you use for this character?

Well, I do call him Ro. Sometimes I call him "lynxie" in my head, cause of the lynx being her national. I also sometimes call him "this fucker".

7. Does the character’s age matter to you?

Kinda?? I see him as being 24-26 physically in modern times, and almost 2000 years old in reality (i've got a post about my HCs for his age over the years linked in my pinned). I don't like it when people make him be born around the time Wallachia got founded, because I've already mentioned I see him as being far older.

8. Does the character’s looks/design matter to you?

In a way? While I do change the colour of Ro's hair (and his hair length sometimes as well), and the colour of her eyes, I do like his canon design. So I guess it matters?

9. Does this character remind you of anyone you know? Does that affect how you see them?

Y'know what. He does kinda remind me of one of my friends, which I have just realised now. It doens't really affect the way I see him, thought.

10. Do you see yourself in this character even without projecting?

In a way, I suppose I do. In his mostly cheerful nature and outlook on life.

11. How did you “fall in love” with this character?

Hmm...I had just gotten back in the fandom, and got really into Romania's history. And the rest is well...history lol

12. If you could write effortlessly and as much as you wanted, what story (s) would you write for this character?

GODDDD I would write so many stories. I would probably write about all of Romania's history, and his relations with a lot of different countries and so much serbro fanfic.

13. If you could draw effortlessly and as much as you wanted, what scene (s) would you draw for this character?

Honestly, not sure.

14. Are you physically attracted to this character?

Not really.

15. Are your thoughts surrounding this character usually sexual, non-sexual, or a mix of both?

Mostly non-sexual.

16. Have you ever cried when thinking about this character? Genuinely?

I...might occasionally tear up a little when thinking about Ro.

17. Have you ever felt physical pain over this character? (ex: physical heartache).

A few times. Maybe. Not sure.

18. Do you prefer to see this character suffer or know peace? Angst or comfort? Both?

Honestly, both. I like seeing him suffer then give her some peace.

19. Does this character serve as a stress ball/ security blanket for you? Something you run to after a bad day to feel safe or happier?

I'll be honest, yeah. Thinking about him gives me a lot of comfort when I have a shitty day.

20. Do you feel affectionate towards this character?

Yeah, I love her a lot!!!!

21. Are your feelings about this character platonic, romantic, or familial? All of these feelings at once maybe?

A mix of all three, maybe. Perhaps not romantic, tho.

22. Do you think you will always love this character?

I think he'll always have a special place in my heart, yeah.

23. Has this character permanently altered or impacted your psyche in a way you won’t forget?

...maybe? Yes? I'm not sure. Hetalia in general has altered my psyche in a way I won't forget.

24. Do you ever dream about this character? If so, describe a dream you once had about them.

I haven't dreamed about him (or if I did, I don't remember)

25. What kind of fan-fiction do you read about this character? If you don’t read fan-fics about them, why not?

All kinds, honestly. But mostly human AUs that seem interesting or historical fiction.

26. If you look for this character’s name on AO3, what tags are you including or excluding?

i dunno...I don't really include or exclude tags usually. Although I rarely read AU stories where he is a vampire, because I've read enough vampire stuff with Ro for a lifetime(not saying people can't write stuff like that, just that it's not my favourite thing ppl do with Ro but I think if it's written well I'll give it a chance).

27. Do you like to ship this character with other characters or do you prefer not to?

Well, yeah. I ship him with like a million characters because I find Romania's relations with other countries interesting to explore. Characters I ship him with the most: Serbia(my OC), Bulgaria, Hungary, Prussia, Greece (kind of), England (kind of).

28. Do you get defensive about this character? If yes, then why?

Well, it depends. But I suppose I do? If I feel like someone misunderstands him, I may get a little defensive and want to say something, but I end up keeping it to myself because there is no point in defending a character to someone who doesn't get him anyway.

29. Do you affectionately bully this character?

Yes <333 he's my lovable idiot who represses his emotions so much and has the worst abandonment and trust issues known to mankind

30. Are you especially sensitive about this character?

Sometimes.

31. Are you ashamed of liking this character?

Well, sometimes I feel a bit ashamed of liking hetalia, but I honestly don't feel bad about liking Ro.

32. If you could make this character a meal, what would you make them?

Honestly, I am not sure. I'd like to make him something that he'd like. Maybe cabbage rolls. I think she'd like those. Or something with garlic, as I HC that he really likes garlic.

33. Are you “blinded by love” for this character or do you accept any flaws they may have?

His flaws are one of the reasons I love him, actually. But sometimes I think I do think of him through rose-coloured glasses, haha.

34. Does this character inspire you with little things in your daily life?

Yeah. Inspires me to keep going even if life is shitty at the moment, for one day I'll be free.

35. Has this character ever prevented you from sleeping because you can’t stop thinking about them?

A few times.

36. Do you feel a spiritual/soulmate connection with this character?

Maybe? I feel a lot of affection for him, but that's mostly because I see myself in him somewhat, not because I love him like that. I guess, yeah, in some manner?

37. Is your love for this character a secret from people you know in real life?

In general the fact that I like hetalia is a secret I keep from the people I know, besides my friends who do know about my love for Ro <3

38. Do you tend to joke more about dying or killing for this character? Both? What causes the distinction?

Honestly, I don't really make jokes like that, well not for Ro. But y'know what, I'd probably kill for him.

39. Do you feel lovesick over this character?

Yeah...mostly when I think of ships involving him.

40. Are you very empathetic towards this character? When they feel a certain way in the story, do you feel those emotions too?

Yes!!! It's probably becausr I see myself a lot in him, but yes. When he feels things, I often feel it too to an extent. Probably why writing him is so therapeutic for me.

41. Do you prefer to interact with this character directly via self-insert/reader type content? Or do you enjoy seeing them mostly with other characters in the story and/or your OCs?

When I was younger, I used to enjoy self insert/reader stuff, and to an extent I still do, but it was kind of ruined for me (and I've tried to make self-insert OCs in the past but I always end up changing them so much they become their own full fledged characters pretty different from me besides some traits that remain). I do enjoy seeing him interact with other characters and my OCs tho.

42. If you could, would you write this character a song or poem?

Yeah. I plan to one day.

43. What type of weather makes you think of this character?

Windy weather. Snowing. Rain.

44. Which season makes you think of this character?

All seasons, but mostly winter and autumm.

45. Do you feel as if you are intimately familiar with this character?

At this point I probably am.

46. How much do bad interpretations of this character upset you?

Well, it honestly kind of depends on the interpretations. Whenever I see bad interpretations of him, I mostly get annoyed. If I were to see an interpretation of him that I felt was not only bad, but offensive, I would get upset then but I thankfully haven't seen something like that yet.

47. Does this character ever make you laugh sincerely?

Yeah a lot!!!!

48. What’s your favorite physical/design feature for this character?

I like his haircut, his fangs, his canon outfit, honestly most things about him!!!!

49. What’s your favorite personality trait in this character?

This isn't a trait represented in canon, and moreso a headcanon of mine, but I think it's maybe that despite it all the shit he went through, she never truly lost his rebellious attitude, and his hope for independence and freedom. Even if it made his life harder at times, he still tried to keep true to himself in a way, even if to survive she had to adapt and change a lot. He might have matured, but he's still a rebel at heart.

50. Link your fav song, playlist, aesthetic board, fan-fiction, reference pile, personal artwork, analysis post, meme, headcanon, or quote for this character.

My pinterest board for him: https://pin.it/3zyAqZ3OB

Song: techincally it's more related to serbro than to him, but Two Punks In Love is totally their song. For one song that reminds me of only Ro, that would be maybe "Home" by Passenger. Or "She Used To Be Mine" from the waitress. And many more songs.

i still kinda like this drawing I did of him even if my art style has changed since then.

Most of my HCs and analysis posts about Ro are linked in my pinned! :]

the ask game

#Asks #Hetalia #Romania #Aph #Hws #Can't believe I answered 50 questions about this guy #Guess I do truly love him

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princessb4mbi · 1 year

Text

╰─▸ ❝ HE'S AT YOUR WINDOW

𖦹 tags black!femafabreader, obsessive!leon, stalking, leon is very ooc, dead dove do not eat, mentions of emotional abuse

𖦹 synopsis to sum this up, completely based on the “check your window, he’s at your window” trend on tiktok

𖦹 word count 1.1k

𖦹 a/n this will be the start to a series, how long? no fuckin idea, but enjoy this first part [story below the cut]

“Think the rain’s gonna let up?” Your close friend Vee asks as she looks out the window. It’s pouring outside of the store, causing the outside to have a nice blue hue to it. “I hope so, we don’t want to be here if it floods..” You responded, taking a sip of your bubbly soda after.

You stare at the window too, slowly zoning out of what’s going on currently, and thinking about the past. When you and your ex, Leon, were together and it rained, you would just cuddle and watch movies all day. It was so perfect. Until.. until he went.. insane. His once calm and sometimes stoic demeanor would turn into a possessive and jealous one. “Hey. You alright?” You snap back into reality, facing Vee’s face. You shyly nod your head yes. But you assume that she has already seen the saddened look on your face before you could change it.

“Babe.. he can hurt you anymore. He won’t hurt you anymore.. not as long as I’m here,” Vee says empathetically. You really owe her. To get someone out of an emotionally abusive relationship is hard, but she still pushed through for you anyways, even though it wasn’t her responsibility. She cared for you as if you were related to her. She placed her hand up to your cheek, caressing it softly. “I don’t want you to worry about him anymore, kay?”

“Ok.” You smile at her. You’ve already told her this, but she would make an amazing partner if you two wanted each other non-platonically. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom real quick, text me if you need something, ok babe?” You hum in response, watching Vee get up from her chair, fix it, then take her phone and walk away. You take another sip of your soda, then go on your phone scrolling mindlessly on Twitter. Suddenly, a message pops up in your dms. Usually, you thought of it as those weird sex bots who desperately try to scam people. But it seemed too off, so you decided to check on it.

Propped up was an obvious Twitter pre-made username, but they had a black pfp. The name simply said, KL. The message coming from them saying, I miss you. I’m lonely. You think nothing of it, deleting the message soon after. These people are just so weird behind a screen huh?.. You continue to scroll on your Twitter, giggling to yourself whenever you see a funny post. But then again, you see another message from the same account. You click on it again seeing something way more ominous. I miss your laugh. It’s weird, but there can be many reasons as to why someone would say that, and you were praying that it wasn’t because you were genuinely laughing just a moment ago. You decide to not entertain it by simply blocking and deleting the account from your dms. Then closing Twitter entirely.

Vee comes back from the bathroom, walking back to the table the two of you shared. “Ready to go?” She said, visually refreshed. “Yea, let’s go.” The two of you walk out, then head to her car to go to her home.

----

“Hey Vee, can I use this?” You say wrapping yourself in a towel and walking over to her. “My mielle? shitt girl.. you know those things rarely get restocked ‘round here,” You frown to that. Although you get where she’s coming from, you don’t need her to be stingy. “Pleasee.. I promise to go to the store and find you one!” You make a frown to try to convince your friend. She looks like she's deep in thought, but then she gives in. “Fine, put on your clothes first, then we’ll head to CVS quickly.” You hug her, then head back to the bathroom to finish up.

The two of you walk into CVS, going separate ways almost immediately. You lift your head to find for the haircare aisle, walking to it when you see it. You accidentally bump into someone, mumbling an apology soon after. The person says “It’s okay,” with deep, raspy voice. You feel like you recognize the voice, but mark it off as nothing and continue to look for the hair product.

The person you bumped into is still in the same aisle as you, but they have a hoodie on so you can’t make out their face. Not that you judge or anything, but they didn’t have the stature of a woman, and their muscles lowkey poked through their hoodie. They were tall too, maybe around 5’11? You quickly turn back to yourself so you aren’t caught analyzing someone.

You feel your phone buzz in your pocket. Assuming it’s Vee, you take it out to see what’s going on. Another Twitter message. You unlock your phone to go look at it, another black pfp account, but with another name. KSL. It seemed similar to the other “KL” account since it had the same getup and all. The message they sent through, was what made you nervous. You’re still so clumsy as ever, princess. You look to the person next to you, them being in the same spot as before but staring at a product. What the fuck? This was getting too good to be true, and you were getting freaked out. But you did what you knew best.. block and delete the account from your dms.

You go farther down the lane, passing by the stranger. “Looking for this?” The pale hand extends to you the Mielle Oil you were looking for. They turn to face you, and your heart drops in horror.

It was him. You left him 6 months ago, and never spoke to him again. Just took your things and left. You honestly have never seen him around since then. His icy blue eyes stare down into yours, with his lips curling into a small smirk. Your toxic ex was back in your face, and you couldn’t believe it. You had no time to worry, you needed to get out of here. You run to the check out isle, seeing Vee scan her items. “Did you find it?” She says looking around your hands for the product. Her expression changes the moment she truly sees your face. She furrows her brows and asks “What’s wrong babe?”

“He’s here. I don’t know how, but he’s here and we need to leave. Now.”

Vee nods at your request, and you help her bag her stuff. You panic as you put the items in the bag, and the two of you hurry to leave the store and get to the car. “Go inside the car, I’ll put it away,” Vee says as she opens the trunk of her car. You get inside the passenger seat, putting on your seatbelt and waiting patiently for Vee to finish. She gets inside the driver seat, putting on her seatbelt then wastes no time to turn on the engine and drive away. A sense of relief fills you, but you see Leon in the outside mirror of the CVS, standing ominously.

“You won’t get away from me. Not anymore.”

#leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy angst #leon kennedy fanfic

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brinkle-brackle · 10 months

Text

Mcflyjuly day 16: Blue Hour

(Okay so this is 2 days late but I finally finished it!!! my first mcflyjuly post yall!!! I got the idea for this one from a show called the moomins, it's a very sweet and heartfelt show and I highly recommend checking it out :) no idea how big the overlap is between moomin enjoyers and bttf enjoyers so this is probably gonna cater mostly to me,, but this came to me as a shower thought the other day and my brain wouldn't let go of it soooooo you guys get to have it now too :D )

- - - - -

He waited until the rest of his family was in bed.

He wasn't sure why he waited. It's not like they would have noticed him slipping away, anyway.

It wasn't as if he didn't feel cared for. It... well...

...okay. Maybe he didn't exactly feel cared for. He loved his family, and deep down he knew that they loved him, too, but sometimes he felt as if they looked at him and only saw the things they percieved as wayward.

The boy who was dating Jennifer Parker, even though they deemed him too young to be "romping around with girls." (Kind of hypocritical, although he didn't know that yet.)

His pursuits in music-- a very difficult and competitive scene, with hardly any guaranteed income. Getting popular was lucky, staying popular even luckier.

And, of course, the consistent tardies he racked up in school.

He'd learned to live with their constant critiques. They were normal in his family, at least to everyone aside from him. But that was just the issue... Marty was an inherently positive person, and he would have been lying if he'd said that all of the constant negativity-- in general, too, but especially towards the life he wanted for himself-- wasn't starting to wear him down.

Sometimes he felt as if they were so engrossed in their own little worlds that they couldn't really see him... or, at least, the him that he wanted them to see.

How his relationship with Jennifer was more than just a "romp"-- he was genuinely in love with her. How wonderful and sweet a girl she was, how she was genuinely one of the best parts of his day.

The raw passion that he put into his music, and how much sheer joy it brought him to play his guitar and sing. People would hear his music, and they would pick up on that, and they would love it. He was certain.

That couldn't exactly be said about his immediate family.

And, the usual reason that he was late for school-- that he actually had a friend, who cared deeply for him, and he'd lose track of time talking with that friend. Granted, that friend was a disgraced nuclear physicist whose meddling had reportedly resulted in the burning of his own family mansion... but he was also friendly and kind and enthusiastic, and he was always there for Marty, no matter for what or for why or for when.

But they couldn't see that. They always made sure to make that perfectly clear to him, at the dinner table that night and so many nights before.

But they couldn't see him. And they couldn't help him if they couldn't see him.

Marty was coming into himself. He was starting to flourish, he could feel it in his bones. He couldn't do it alone, though. He needed help... he needed their help.

He knew his mother would worry. She always did. But he'd left a note for her, in the hopes that it would be able to assuage her fears, at least a little bit.

He'd left it on the kitchen counter, just below the alcohol cabinet-- that way he knew she wouldn't miss it.

----------

Einstein wouldn't stop barking. He'd been at it for the past five minutes, almost nonstop-- staring intently at the garage door, sitting oddly close to it, and barking as if his life depended on it.

Emmett loved the dog to death, but he knew that although Einie was much smarter than he probably should be, he was still a dog. He had barked at an empty paint can that had fallen over once. He'd even seen it topple off the shelf, and he'd still barked at it as if it were some extraterrestrial being from Mars.

Einstein had his moments. And, apparently, those moments now included barking at the garage door at 11pm on a chilly September night for five minutes straight. Emmett was willing to pass it off as nothing at first.

And then there came that soft knock.

Emmett's eyes immediately darted towards the door, and he frowned. Now, that was definitely not nothing.

He got up and slowly crept up to the door, hushing Einstein with the help of a few gentle pets and soothing words. Who on earth would be knocking on the door to his garage at this hour...?

With a cautious demeanor and eyes filled with apprehension, Emmett slowly opened the garage door to look outside and found...

...nothing.

His brows furrowed in suspicion. He immediately started to comb through all of the possibilities, wracking his brain for any answers.

Had he been ding-dong-ditched...?

Eh... it was probably all just part of the fun, he supposed.

It wasn't uncommon for the neighborhood kids to try and spook each other with stories of the mad scientist who had burnt his own mansion to the ground. He'd had his fair share of teenagers knocking on his door and then making for the hills, for nothing more than a cheap thrill. A chance to catch a glimpse of the crazy old man who lived in the husk of what was once a home. But at this hour...?

He leaned a little bit out of the garage door, peering down at the grand driveway and gate that led from his garage to the lamp-lit street below. But there were no swift silhouettes of children running down the street. There was no raucous laughter of teenagers who had just pulled off the most juvenile heist of the century. In fact, there was no sign of noise or movement at all. Just the empty street below, the sidewalks dimly illuminated by the soft light of the streetlamps, and the slightest whisper of a breeze playing through the trees.

He turned to regard Einstein again with a quirked brow. But the shaggy goob just sat there softly panting and staring, a big doggy smile on his face. His tail swished back and forth rapidly, as if there were a friend outside the door.

A frown etched itself onto the scientist's face. No, no, no... that couldn't be right... but...

After a few moments Emmett decided that it didn't matter, because evidently there was no one there. Grumbling to himself, the scientist looked back down the street, then turned away and started to go back inside. "Damn kids," he muttered under his breath, reaching for the door handle again.

That was when he heard the rustling noise.

Emmett instantly froze in his tracks, ran a hand through his frizzy white hair, and then whipped around, hoping to catch the source of the noise off-guard.

His vision was met with a simple, folded note... perfectly smooth on one end, but creased and crinkled at an angle on the other end, as if someone were holding it out to him.

Except... well... there was no one standing there.

The note appeared to be floating in midair in front of him.

He gasped a little and stepped back, nervous eyes trained on the phantom piece of paper. A flashing neon sign suddenly appeared in his mind and refused to leave. GHOST. GHOST. GHOST.

The notion wasn't unheard of, he realized. His mansion-- er, garage-- being haunted. The place was certainly old enough to have harbored a ghost or two over the years. He'd just... never thought about it before.

But, at the same time, that didn't really make sense either... if his property was really haunted, why hadn't there been any strange happenings until now? Why tonight, of all nights?

The note moved forward slightly, toward him, a silent plea from the ghost... or... whatever it was.

Emmett regarded it warily for a few moments, but then eventually reached out to take it. Something didn't add up, he told himself, and he needed to figure out what it was. He had a feeling, a very strange feeling, that this was something exceedingly important.

The scientist took the note in his hands, carefully unfolding it with his fingers before drawing it up to his eyes. Upon registering the formatting of the note, however, his eyes went even wider than they had been before.

The handwriting... he recognized it. He knew it all too well.

"Great Scott..."

He wanted to look away from the body of the note, for the moment, and study that blank space in front of him. Comb his vision around the nothing, desperately try to make out some form of physicality, any form of physicality. Ask it... beg it to talk. He had to know what was happening. What was happening?

Instead, he slowly read over the note. It was only a short string of words, but his inquisitive brown eyes scanned over it and took in everything with the utmost care.

He froze as he came to the end of the writing, clutching the slip of paper tightly with both hands, and slowly looked up at the nothingness in front of him... which, as he was now certain, couldn't be nothing. This note...

He read it over and over again, then looked to the nothingness again in disbelief.

He'd heard stories of things like this happening to people who were sad enough... but he'd never even given pause to the fact that they might have been true.

No... oh, no...

The scientist hesitated, but then slowly extended one of his hands, as if to make absolutely sure of the situation. Almost instantly, he felt the nothingness take it and squeeze hard.

And those things happened to other people... not...

Emmett squeezed his eyes shut and inhaled through his nose.

He knew that grip.

"Great... Scott..."

He'd felt it first a few years back, when he'd come home to find that someone had broken into his garage. The thief (no, he wasn't a thief... break-er and enter-er??) had shaken his hand, and in that moment, somehow Emmett had known that he would never forget what that hand had felt like. He'd felt it after he'd successfully tested one of his smaller inventions-- that hand meeting his in an enthusiastic high-five, accompanied by an excited exclamation of "Doc!!"

And he'd felt it right before the kid had taken his driver's test-- trying to reassure him as they walked up to the DMV building together. The poor teenager's hand had been shaking like a leaf, but it was still the same grip.

Emmett's heart dropped.

He'd heard stories of things like this happening on rare occasions. Strange... sad stories, that he'd been convinced were nothing more than myth or urban legend. But one look at the note in his hand and one shaky squeeze to his other hand said it all.

And then the scientist saw a single droplet, slowly sliding down what had first appeared to be thin air... sliding down, slowly tracing the uneven lines of a face that wasn't there.

Something stabbed into Emmett's gut and twisted a little.

"Oh, no..." the scientist murmured, squeezing back just as tightly. He sighed in sadness and deep worry as he used his other hand-- the one with the wrinkled note in it-- to push the garage door open wider. Einstein jumped up to his feet and yipped, his tail wagging in excitement as if he could sense that Marty was there. (He probably had all along.)

Yes, Emmett had heard stories of things like this happening... but he also knew that there were solutions. He could help.

That was why Marty had come to him first, he realized. He'd known that he could help, and that he would.

He gave the invisible boy a sad smile.

"Come on in," he said softly, nodding his head in the direction of the extra bed. "Make yourself at home. I'll grab some Burger King."

#this is my first fic I've ever posted ever I think so I hope you guys enjoy it 🥲#bttf #back to the future #back to the future fanfiction #back to the future fanfic #marty mcfly #doc brown #emmett brown #doctor emmett brown #moomins #moomin #(kinda?? inspired at least)#the invisible child #mcflyjuly #mcfly july

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hollybell51 · 2 years

Text

Connections

Series masterlist, masterpost

Thomas x fem!Reader Maze Runner (2009 novel - James Dashner, 2014 film - Wes Ball)

Word count: 1944 (whoo!)

Summary: you’re used to the boys who come up in the box being a little weird at first, but something about this one is oddly... familiar. And he feels it too.

Content: canon-typical amnesia, light angst, Thomas just being Thomas, teenaged-romance-typical cringiness, you get the gist.

Notes: starts in Thomas’s POV (but alternates between his and yours cause I love a good dual perspective) so obviously it’s a little weird since he initially doesn’t know you, so I didn’t wanna jump straight into the “you” etc. It’s in third person for this reason (”she” “her” etc), although everything from the second paragraph onwards is second person as per usual. You gotta just ignore that bit and take it as necessary backing for the main thing cause I wasn’t 100% sure on how to do it, but this made sense in my head.

I just got my wisdom teeth out so I’m stuck in a hospital with not all too much to do just eating custard, soup and jelly. My friend did come and visit me so that was pretty great, but multiplayer minecraft isn’t working :( Also why are all nurses ever so freaking pretty I genuinely don’t understand. Is being pretty something that happens to you at nurse school? Do they only allow pretty people into nurse school? It’s a mystery, truly. Either way, this, reading the book my friend brought me and annotating my English book are pretty much all I have to do other than watching stuff so yeah...

Unrelated, but I love a good sweaty confused sad angry lost annoyed little man and he does it so well

The boy looked up, shielding his eyes from the light to see a girl crouched at the top of the box, smiling down at him. There was something about her, he thought, that seemed to compel him to keep looking at her slightly messy (y/h/c) hair, her bright (y/e/c) eyes that seem to be sharing some kind of joke with him.

You reached a hand down, and he got up off the floor, taking it. Your skin was warm and you had a strong grip. You helped him out of the box, smiling at his no doubt stunned expression as he looked around, taking in the massive stone walls and what appeared to be a farm tended by about 20 – no, more – people who couldn’t have been much older than he was. And somehow, amid all the strangeness, your hand in his was familiar.

“Hello, Greenie,” you said – damn, you even had a nice voice, the kind that made him believe that everything was ok. “I’m (Y/N).”

“I’m…” the boy trailed off. He didn’t know what his name was. How could that be? Surely he had a name. But as he racked his brains, the only thing that came to him was that you were called (Y/N), and that everything was going to be fine as long as you were beside him. “What is this place?”

“This is the Glade.” You gestured around, encompassing the whole farm in a sweep of your arm. “And don’t worry about your name, it’ll come back later. It’s the one thing they let you keep.”

“They?” Everything was getting weirder by the second.

“I’ll explain later. First, let me show you around.”

The Greenie asked a lot of questions. Like, a lot. It was odd, you felt like you knew him, like you’d seen him before, and you kept almost grabbing his hand. You did your best to answer his questions, but eventually you stopped. To tell the truth, as bad as it sounded even to you, you couldn’t really be bothered anymore. He’d find his feet before too long.

“Greenie,” you said, turning to him, “I’m gonna need you to just be patient. You’ll pick it all up eventually, but enough questions, ok?”

“Yeah,” he answered ruefully, “ok.”

He was cute, you supposed, with dark brown hair cut short, a muscular build, and bright green eyes. Nice face, if only he’d stop looking so confused all the time. You couldn’t blame him, not really. A little wrinkle appeared between his eyebrows every time he frowned, and you caught yourself almost reaching up and smoothing it away several times. You realised you were staring at him and looked away quickly, continuing the tour.

You had a bonfire that night, as was tradition every month when a new Greenie arrived. You sat back, watching as he challenged Gally to a fight (bad idea) which you somehow found endearing and normal, like that was the way it should be. Maybe he just had the kind of vibe of someone who wouldn’t back down, people who were upstarts tended to have a certain look about them. At least, that was what you told yourself as he froze, stood still for a moment then shouted,

“Thomas! I remember my name, I’m Thomas!”

After that, everyone patted him on the back, his disagreement with Gally completely forgotten.

“So, Thomas,” you said as you approached, looking up at him, “what do you think?”

“I don’t know,” he frowned, that little wrinkle showing itself once more. You took his hand, leading him to where you usually sat with Newt, away from all the clamour. You both found that while the vigour and headiness of being around the others could be fun, it was also tiring at times.

“Thomas, huh?” Newt said, offering him a jar of Gally’s god-awful moonshine.

Thomas took a mouthful, but spat it out pretty fast. “What is that stuff?” he asked, revolted.

“No idea,” Newt answered, taking the jar back.

“You know,” you decided, slinging an arm across Thomas’s shoulders, “I like you Greenie.”

“(Y/N)!” Thomas ran up to you, his face sweaty.

“What’s up, Greenie?” You straightened, leaning on your shovel. It had been a week since Thomas’ arrival, and he was settling in pretty well apart from the odd disagreement and his unfortunate condition of too much curiosity. You hadn’t seen him around too much, your work as a gardener and his constant stream of odd jobs and trials of the different occupations had seen to that, but you’d found that you had an easy rapport with him on the day that he’d been beside you tending to the vegetable patch and when you were eating (he’d sat with you most for most meals after that first night, which you weren’t too fussed about. Besides, he brought Chuck with him and the little kid was always fun to be around). Even if he could be a little annoying with all his questions and occasionally slipped into a morose bout of heavy brooding (“I’m not brooding,” he’d protested when you’d poked him and told him to stop it, “I’m just… thinking.”), you liked the comfortable back and forth between you, and being around him felt… right.

Now, he looked near frantic as he stood panting before you, his eyes wild. “I remembered something. From before the Maze.”

“What?” Your mind spun. That never happened, ever. Maybe it was a dream and he’d gotten confused, maybe he’d hit his head. Still, you could indulge him. “What did you remember?”

Thomas glanced around, then jerked his head towards the Deadheads. Against your better judgement, you followed him into the fringes of the trees.

The memories swirled around Thomas’s head, disjointed and confused, but still memories. He remembered you, how you’d been with him before the Maze, how close you were. A flash of white hallway, disabled security cameras and sneaking into each other’s rooms at night. He remembered your lips on his, the way your body felt under his hands.

He reached the edge of the Deadheads, and you stopped, resting your weight on one leg and placing a hand on your hip. “Alright Greenie,” you said – Thomas wished you’d use his name, “what did you remember?”

“I remembered us, you and me, before we came here,” he said quietly, not quite sure how to tell you what he knew. Would you think he was crazy, delusional? That he was just a stupid boy with a crush – because yeah, he liked you, definitely did – on the only girl he’d seen in… He supposed he’d known girls before whatever strange memory block that started at waking up in the elevator – Box, as you’d called it. That was another strange thing about this place, he thought, you were the only girl, and nobody apparently knew why. Either way, he didn’t want you to think he was silly or mad.

He forged on. “I felt like I knew you even before you told me your name, when I woke up.”

You frowned, chewing the inside of your cheek. You really were adorable when you were thinking. “What about us, what did you remember about me and you, Thomas?”

He took a deep breath, looking around again. “I just remember sneaking through hallways with you, and…”

“And what? Just spit it out already!” You were getting impatient.

“Ok, this is going to sound super weird,” he looked around again and you crossed your arms. “We were…” He stopped. He couldn’t say it, he couldn’t face the raised eyebrow as you tried to hide your look of incredulity and then pity that would inevitably flash across your face.

“Are you going to share this wonderful pearl of wisdom with me or not?” The sarcasm in your voice jolted him back to another time, hiding outside in the cold, you sitting on his lap, his jumper wrapped around you both. You were saying something about the weather. “Thomas?” you asked, a hint of concern in your voice.

“(Y/N),” he said, placing a hand on your shoulder, “before the Maze, you and I were together.”

“Together?” you asked, “Like, you knew me?”

He thought he caught a faint flash of apprehension, hope, even, dart across your face. “Yeah, I remember you, we used to sneak into each other’s rooms and outside, and you’d hack the security system, so we wouldn’t get caught.” He smiled at the memory.

“Thomas what…?” A crease appeared between your brows, and you were tilting your head to the side slightly. “What do you mean? How do you know?” Your frown deepened, even more unsure as you gestured to the space between you and him. “Were we… a couple?”

Thomas released a breath, secretly relieved you’d been the one to say it. “Yeah, yeah we were. (Y/N), trust me, I remember, and I know these are memories.” On an impulse, he took your hand, holding it tightly. “I feel like I know you, and everything about you is familiar. Sometimes when you do or say something, I get a flashback…”

“What do you mean a flashback? What of?” you interrupted, and he realised he wasn’t really making sense.

Thomas tried to talk slowly. “Like before, when you were being sarcastic, I remembered us, sitting outside at night and it was freezing cold, so you were sitting on my lap and we had this jumper wrapped around us, and I must have said something about it being cold because you were being sarcastic about the weather and…”

“Thomas stop,” you said, and he looked at your beautiful clear eyes, so full of emotion.

“(Y/N),” he almost whispered.

“No,” you said, searching his face, “Thomas, I really like you, I do, and I feel like I’ve known you before as well, but this is crazy!”

“No,” he protested, “this is what I remember!”

“I know,” your eyes were sparkling with unshed tears, “I know it’s what you remember, but how are we supposed to trust that whoever took our memories, and someone definitely took our memories, how do we know that they didn’t plant fake ones?”

“I know what I feel towards you is real, (Y/N), I just know it, right here.” He placed a hand on his solar plexus, still not breaking eye contact.

“I…” You stopped, looking at the ground then back at him. “Ok,” you said, “and if I trust this? If I trust that your memories are real, that we’re not going crazy? Then what?”

“Then…” It was his turn to trail off, raising his hand from your shoulder to your cheek, gently wiping a tear from your face with his thumb. He leaned down slightly, tilting his head to the side. Hesitantly, you stretched up to meet him halfway, your lips brushing his softly. You gave a sharp little intake of breath, and Thomas stopped, pulling away again.

“Sorry, I…” he swallowed, “I understand if you don’t want…”

You cut him off by way of kissing him, hard. Thomas gave a grunt of surprise, then wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you closer. It was right, this was how it was supposed to be. You held in his embrace, fitted against his body like you were the last piece in a puzzle. Because you were, you were the last piece in his puzzle.

Thomas broke away first, looking down at you still held in his arms.

“That was…” you said, looking puzzled, “That felt really familiar.”

“Do you believe me?” He asked, and you nodded thoughtfully.

“Yes, Greenie,” – he rolled his eyes at that – “yes, I think I do.”

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