the stuff that they're posting is so vile, i even seen someone saying that valko looks black and put in a diff game for africans. the racism and supremacy I've on twitter has genuinely disgusted me
This is so disgusting. And THIS is who Infold and PaperGames are pandering to!!!! They see these comments and reward this behavior with apologies and in-game gifts. This whole situation disgusts me. The people who made video games like this even possible were BLACK! so disrespectful. If you're even considering still playing the game, I absolutely would advise against it, especially you are tan, black, or brown!!! They do not respect us!
how ungrateful do you have to be to ruin part of a game for literally a million other people? valko was for sure not a character for everyone, but that’s the entire point of a love interest game. everyone has different tastes.
i’m sure infold wasn’t pushing off the story line. y’all just had to be patient and wait. why is that such a problem
protesting and causing public disturbances is actually so disgusting. what has humanity come to if y’all are getting so butt hurt over a game?
i hope everyone who has taken part in these protests that led to valko’s PERMANENT REMOVAL learn that the world does not revolve around them—SO many other people, including myself, were looking forward to valko.
please a) use #bringbackvalko, and b) consider signing the following petitions:
Bring back Valko as a meaningful love interest
Fans urge Infold and PaperGames to restore Valko as a love interest in Love and Deepspace to honor the original vision for the game. Add you
and, i will continue to write for valko as if he were added in the game, cuz in my heart he absolutely is.
Megumi’s hair, you’ve noticed since dating him, really refuses to lie flat. Like, ever. At first you thought he was styling it that way, but apparently he just wakes up like that and never really bothers to do anything about it, not after he secretly enjoys the way you call it cute and ruffle it.
If he ever steps out of the shower or a pool, towel wrapped cosily around him, his hair bounces right back. Spiky even when wet- you aren’t really sure how he does it, but he reminds you of a fluffy sea urchin.
It also just so happens to bear a striking resemblance to a cat.
You only got the idea walking home from a date, Megumi’s hand loosely wrapped with yours as your shoes clicked in unison against the street. You paused briefly to excitedly point at a mural on the opposite side of the road, Megumi’s hand still in yours.
“Oh, it’s so pretty!” You say, “I really think this prefecture could use some more art, don’t you think, Megs?” You’re too busy gushing about how pretty the wall is to realise, but when you turn back around he’s staring at you like you’re his whole world, and your sensitive heart flutters.
You want to kiss him. Obviously. But, you also want to pet that stray black cat that’s curling around the lamppost, and your boyfriend will still be here afterwards. Even if he gets a tiny bit grumpy.
And so you bypass Megumi, crouching to nuzzle your palm against the cat’s skull. He clears his throat, and you slowly look from the cat- jet black, a little pissed off, and fuzzy- to your boyfriend. Who, funnily enough, is also jet black, a little pissed off, and fuzzy.
And then it clicked.
Now, it’s a week later, and you’re sat across from him on his dorm bed and pleading. “Come onnnn, you do look a bit like a cat! Admit it!”
“I don’t.” He groans, “and stop saying that.”
You pout and run your fingers through his hair in an attempt to get him to lighten up. It works a little, him instinctually leaning into your soft touch (like a cat) and you wouldn’t be surprised if he genuinely started purring (also like a cat). But it also gives you another idea, one that makes you grin evilly when his eyes flutter shut.
Megumi thinks you’re just playing with his hair at first, just like normal, nails scratching at his scalp. Because his hair is so messy, it’s actually quite easy to style so long as you don’t attempt to flatten it at all- and what you’re doing requires none of that.
Slowly, you grab at his hair and manoeuvre it into two large, triangle-shaped tufts. Megumi sits there patiently, assuming you’re just doing what you usually would, and you’d feel bad if he didn’t look so cute.
You progressively add more hair from each side of his head, until the two triangles are big enough to the point that they’re unmistakable as what you wanted them to look like-
Two cat ears.
You giggle. “Megumi, look in the mirror.”
He blinks open slowly, then turns around to the mirror propped in the corner and groans loudly. “You’re not serious. You gave me cat ears?” His hands move to ruffle his hair back up, but you clasp them in your own and stop him. “Admit you look like a cat, then I'll let you flatten it.”
He sighs exasperatedly. “I look like a cat.”
You beam sunnily. “Now, meow.”
Megumi stares at you for several seconds like you’ve just grown two more heads and informed him you’re going to dump him for Gojo. “Absolutely not.”
“Pleaseeee?” You whine, “just once. Just a little teeny tiny meow for your lovely, amazing girlfriend that you adore and respect.”
He shifts on the bed and catches glimpse of himself in the mirror again. He isn’t likely to admit it to you any time soon, but he does kinda see the resemblance between him and that grumpy cat from your date that ruined your kiss. He stifles a laugh with a cough, but you notice anyway.
“You see it!” You laugh, “come on, just meow for the full effect. Pleaseeee-“
“This is so stupid.” He mutters under his breath. But, anything for his girlfriend- ahem, to get his girlfriend to put his hair back to normal. Megumi sighs like he’s trying to achieve inner peace before what he’s about to do.
“…meow.”
You collapse in laughter. “Oh my god, you sound so miserable!” Your hands reach up to ruffle his hair. “Cats don’t usually sound so depressed. A little enthusiasm next time?”
“I’m not saying it again.”
“Meow!” You say, right into his ear, and he flinches at the noise. “Meowmeowmeowmeow-“
“Meow.” He says again, lips twitching. Now, you’re both laughing, giggling too hard to even kiss properly when he tugs you in to shut you up. “Shh.” You wipe your eyes, peck him on the lips again, and sit back. “Hey, Megs.” You wheeze.
“Meow!”
ೃ࿔*:･
masterlist
a/n: meow!! I hope you enjoyed, and ty for reading <33
satoru shows up at your door at 2 am with a bouquet so huge it looks like he robbed a botanical garden.
he’s still in his uniform, hair a mess, looking way too proud of himself for someone who hasn’t texted you back since morning. he doesn’t even knock properly—just sort of headbumps the door with his forehead until you open it.
“special grade,” he says, waving a hand, like that explains everything. “ugly guy, so rude, wouldn’t die, ugh, i’m exhausted. but i bought you something.”
and by “something,” he means a bouquet that could physically crush you if it tipped over. this is the third bouquet this month. ever since you mentioned you liked getting flowers, he’s been treating it like a personal challenge—bigger bouquets, brighter colors, borderline dramatic entrances.
you take the flowers, trying to hold onto at least a little annoyance, but he leans against your doorframe with that soft, tired smile he only ever uses on you.
“sorry,” he murmurs, nudging his shoulder against yours. “couldn’t message. thought maybe this would make up for it?”
you roll your eyes, but you’re already pulling him inside, scanning for any injuries even though you know it’s impossible, “you don’t have to buy half a greenhouse every time.”
“i absolutely do” he says, brushing a petal off your hair, “nothing but the best for my girl. and you like them.”
I hate how physical touch as a love language always gets reduced to sex and kissing, it is actually the little things… holding hands for no reason, laying your head on their shoulder, throwing your legs across their lap, tracing their palm with your finger, tucking your cold feet under their thighs. just touching because you crave their closeness, not because you want something more. the pure, soft intimacy hits different.
It’s easy. It’s believable. No one argues with tired.
When Nami asks if you’re okay, you shrug and say you didn’t sleep well. When Usopp waves a hand in front of your face and jokes that you look like a ghost, you laugh and blame the heat. When Sanji offers you food with a worried glance, you promise you’ll eat later.
Tired explains everything.
Saying you were sad, the others would pry.
So you sit by the rail while the Sunny cuts through calm water, the sea gentle today, the sky stretched wide and blue. The breeze is cool against your skin, and you focus on that. The feeling of something steady, something simple.
You’re fine. You’re just tired.
“You’re sad.”
The words land beside you, not sharp, not loud.
You look up to find Luffy standing there, straw hat tipped back, eyes on you in that unfiltered way of his. No judgment. No guessing. Just certainty.
“I’m not,” you say automatically. “I’m just tired.”
He hums, like he’s considering it. Then he drops down next to you, legs swinging over the side of the ship.
“Why not go nap?” he says after a moment. “That will help.”
You let out a quiet breath before you can stop yourself. “I... I want to stay here. The breeze, the sun it makes me feel better.”
He grins, pleased for exactly a second — then it fades. His gaze stays on you, steady and patient in a way that makes your chest ache.
“How long have you been tired?” he asks.
You look back out at the ocean. The waves don’t ask questions. They just keep moving.
“A while,” you say.
Luffy nods like that makes sense. Like he wasn’t expecting anything else. He leans back on his hands, quiet beside you, letting the silence stretch without trying to fill it.
You don’t realize how tense you are until his shoulder brushes yours - warm, solid, real.
“You know,” he says, casual but gentle, “you don’t gotta pretend with me.”
“I’m not pretending,” you reply, softer now.
He tilts his head. “We don't have to talk. We can just… be. Will that help?”
The words loosen something in your chest. Not all of it. Just enough to breathe.
“I don’t want to make it everyone’s problem,” you admit.
Luffy frowns at that. Not angry, just confused. “It already is,” he says. “You’re part of the crew.”
Then, without asking, he leans his head against your shoulder. Not heavy. Not clingy. Just there, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
“You don’t gotta be okay all the time,” he adds. “You don’t even gotta know what’s wrong.”
You swallow. “What if I don’t know how to stop feeling like this?”
He thinks about it. Really thinks. Then he reaches for your hand, fingers warm and sure as they lace with yours.
“Then you can sit with it,” he says. “And I’ll sit with you.”
The ship creaks softly around you. Somewhere behind you, the crew laughs, distant, muffled, like another world. Here it’s just the sea, the sun, and Luffy’s steady presence beside you.
“You’re not alone,” he says like a promise. “Even when you’re tired. Even when you’re sad.”
You close your eyes.
For the first time, you don’t correct him.
You just let yourself lean in.
And for now, that’s enough.
— 🌊 —
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gossip in the hallways of ua was a normal thing amoung the teenagers. the whispers and giggles about everyone and everything bounced off the walls and would circulate at top speeds, so it made sense that word of mr. midoriya's little visitor would spread in just seconds.
"did you hear? mr. midoriya's wife is here."
"mrs. midoriya stopped by. i didn't see her, but someone from 1-c saw her enter his room."
"GUYS, MRS. MIDORIYA CAME IN AGAIN!"
you couldn't help but laugh as you heard the echoes of the gossiping students, slipping into your husband's classroom during his lunch period to pay him a visit.
"you forgot your lunch again...you're lucky i had time to drop it off before i go to work."
"hm...must have slipped my mind..." izuku stared at you with a bright smile. for him, you hung much more than just the moon. the stars, the sun, and the whole solar system, too.
"the second time this week?" you set his things down on his desk before reaching out your hand to pat his head.
"mhm. maybe i just wanted a thoroughly planned out excuse for my wife to come and visit-"
"oh trust me, i know..." pulling up a chair, you sat across from him at his desk. "everyone is talking about it."
"god forbid i love my wife!" oh, izuku's cute little pout...he took your hand, pressing the warmth of your palm into the side of his cheek. "i miss you when i'm gone, you know..."
"you'll see me when we get home-" he quickly cut you off, words stuck in your throat. "not enough!"
you couldn't help but roll your eyes. izuku was the sweetest to you, really. despite all of the years together, he still treated you like it was the first week of dating. he'd get down on his knees at any moment if it meant you'd be happy.
"your whole evening will be only reserved for me, right?" he was such a puppy, wasn't he? gazing at you with soft eyes, head tilted, his bottom lip jutted out in a small pout.
"a-anything for you..." warmth bloomed in your chest, butterflies making themselves at home in your stomach. he was just the sweetest little thing...
izuku turned to press gentle kisses along your palm and wrist. "thank you....thank you, thank you, thank you."
surely this gave the students something more to gossip about...
Hello! May I request a short fanfic of RE4R!Leon S. Kennedy and Fem!Reader where she's on her period, which is extremely rough for her, and he takes care of her? Headaches, nausea/vomiting, acne, bloating, painful cramps, fatigue, etc. The kind of misery that leaves you curled up in a ball under heavy blankets, incapable of crawling your way out of bed. Hopefully, Leon is understanding and willing to be your caretaker this week...
Take your time, thanks!
- 🩷
a/n: dear reader, we share the same struggle. thank you for the request :)
fluff, mood swings, 1.2k words, tw for pain!
You were sitting at your vanity mirror, getting ready for a nice dinner date that Leon insisted taking you on. He had been so busy with meetings and debriefings after his recent mission in Spain, you hadn’t really spent enough time together.
You just wish he had picked another day. You were about to get your period either today or tomorrow, so you felt like shit to say the least.
You were incredibly moody, bloated, tired, your head was pounding, you even threw up earlier.
You were kind of glad he wasn’t home when that happened. Him fussing over you was usually so sweet, melted your heart even, but you had a sick feeling you’d snap if he tried anything today.
You could hear him shuffling about in the other room, getting his suit on. Even that was annoying you. God, why’d you have to be such a bitch before your period?
The frown on your face deepens as you notice yet another random yet incredibly sore pimple appears near your chin.
You hiss, bringing the makeup sponge to the spot to cover it up. Once you’re finally done, you hear Leon step foot into the room, grabbing the keys he left.
He dawns a dress shirt, and black slacks. Leon’s hair was brushed back a bit the way you liked.
You usually complimented him whenever he wore it that way, but you were tunnel visioned on just getting through the night.
He catches a glimpse of you as you stand, brushing off your thighs with a little more aggression than you intend.
“Wow, you look—”
“Beautiful—I know.” You finish, grabbing your purse with an annoyed huff before stomping out of the room, leaving Leon dumbfounded.
Was it something he said? He didn’t really say anything though…
He shrugged, trailing after you cautiously.
It was the next day, and you knew Leon would be in for a ride when you shift uncomfortably in your sleep for the millionth time tonight, or dawn at least.
The sun is beginning to peak through your curtains, casting the room in a soft blue hue.
You would’ve admired the room, but your pelvis and legs felt so heavy, it was like they might explode.
It made the scene feel so cold and uncomfortable.
You want to take a scalding hot bath to soothe your aching muscles, but you also feel like you needed to take a shit with all the pressure building up.
You wanted to ball up into Leon’s form afterwards, cry under the covers for what was to come.
You’re on your side with Leon’s pale, heavy arm wrapped firmly around your waist.
You feel his rhythmic breath fan across the back of your neck as he sleeps soundly for once.
You don’t wanna wake him up, seeing as he’s been struggling to get some deep sleep in lately. But alas, your body betrays you, the pain in your lower body tells you your uterus couldn’t care less about Leons circadian rhythm right now.
You sigh in exasperation, shifting so Leon’s heavy ass limb would let you free.
He resists, and you give up for a second, hoping he’d let go at some point. Leon clutches you pretty hard at night, maybe it was some sort of subconscious safety mechanism he’s picked up throughout the years.
You shift again.
His hand flattens against your stomach as he stirs in his sleep, grumbling something along the lines of ‘What’re you doing.’
You tap his hand as if you were tapping out of a wrestling match, “Leon—think I got my period,” you mumble in a hurry.
He inhales sharply, arm finally uncurling itself from around you as he propped himself up over you. The heavy white blanket slides down his form, revealing the solid lines of his torso, jagged faded scars illuminated by the soft morning sun.
His ash colored hair is tousled, face adorably puffier than it was the night before, eyes all squinty as he looks down to examine your figure shifting uncomfortably.
You would’ve taken some more time to admire the view before you, but oh hey friendly reminder, your uterus is about to explode here and not in the way it usually does when Leon looks like that.
“Are you in pain?” He asks, voice still groggy from sleep.
“Yes I’m in pain, Sherlock.” You whine, kicking your foot as it throbs in pain, “I just told you I got my….“
Your thoughts drift as he brings a hand down to rub gently at your lower stomach, hand trailing to soothe your thighs every so often.
You close your eyes and sigh at the momentary relief.
“I wanna take a hot shower then come back to bed.”
“Okay,” Leon says, moving up and off you to get out of your way. He’s not trying to catch any more strays this morning.
To your surprise he gets out of bed as well, holding your waist gently as you get up and stumble just a little.
“Easy,” He murmurs, leading you toward the bathroom door.
After he helps you undress, he shifts by the doorway, “Do you need me to stay?—in case you need something?”
You smile softly at his attentiveness, “No that’s okay, I’ll call if you if I need anything. Go back to sleep, alright?”
Leon hesitates but nods eventually, padding back toward the bed.
You spent about an hour in the hot bath, not wanting to leave, but also wanting to just hurry up and eat so you could dope up on some pain killers.
You hobbled out, the soft robe Leon left for you, wrapped around your form as you clutched your lower stomach.
Leon was back under the covers, and unsurprisingly, there was a small plate of plain breakfast food and a bottle of Advil sitting on the nightstand near you.
Even in the midst of your anguish, you grinned softly. It was so simple, but it felt nice to be looked after, or to have your little period emergency preferences remembered like that.
You sat on the bed, bringing the plate to your lap.
It was awful, not the food Leon made, but your cramps. The more you ate, the worse the ache got.
You moan uncomfortably, shifting to grab the Advil when you felt a warm hand rest on you.
You looked down at Leon, he was lying on his stomach facing you, but he wasn’t asleep.
His gaze was nowhere really, as he moved his hand up and down your form like earlier.
“Hey,” you whisper, stroking tousled strand of hair from his eye, “you should go back to sleep, I’m fine.”
No you weren’t.
“Can’t sleep,” he mumbled.
You quickly swallow down your pills before clicking your heating pad onto the highest setting for now and shifting to move under the covers.
Leon curls his arms back around you, stuffing his nose into the crook of your neck.
His hands still busy themselves at your waist, drifting down every so often to gently squeeze at your curled up legs.
You move to turn around in his arms, facing him. His soft gaze drifts to you, before he places a feather soft kiss on your lips.
The heating pad on your lower stomach squishes again his and it’s a little too hot, but he has no right to complain right now.
“Feelin’ better?” He asks.
You sigh and nod, melting into him further.
His shoulders un-tense as he lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.
“Good,” he whispers, lazily stroking your back before you finally drifted off again.
Summary: Your husband comes back from Alcatraz and all you wanna do is spoil him.
Word count: 1,892
Notes: I was rewatching Death Island, and it made me wanna baby Leon so bad. He deserves so much better, and so I had to write something. (Are you guys surprised I didn't write about Vendetta Leon this time? 🤣)
As soon as you hear the front door to your sweet suburban home open, you rush to push aside what you're doing and almost trip in your hurry. There's a leap in your chest, a force so strong it nearly hurts, the moment you hear your husband's deep voice in the entryway.
A smile lights up his face when you come into view. "Hey, pumpkin!" You breathe his name in relief and take those last few steps, killing the distance between. Your arms wrap around his solid middle, and you burrow into his warm chest.
You feel Leon's shoulders slump, and his big beefy arms draw you even closer. Moments pass by while you just breathe each other in. Tightly your fingers curl and grasp at his skin-tight muscle tee.
Finally, when the two of you are satisfied that the other is real, you both part. Like always, you scan his body, eyes darting all over him as your hands gently glide along his body. "Are you okay? Any injuries? Broken bones? Anything you need to get off your chest?"
He just chuckles in response, brushing off your concern. "I'm fine, really. No broken bones this time. I promise." His calloused fingers brush over your brows, attempting to straighten out the anxious creases. Your gaze latches onto his softened eyes and the smile that still graces his handsome face.
It makes heat crawl up the back of your neck, and butterflies erupt in your stomach. Even after all this time, Leon still has you wrapped around his finger. "How are you doing, Mrs. Kennedy?"
"Alright. I was really missing you, but I'm okay now." You give your husband a bright, brave smile. Then, pat his chest lovingly. "I wanna spoil you." You nod decisively as multiple ways to baby the diligent agent come to mind.
He chuckles in a low and breathless way that heats you up from the inside out. His large hands slide over your hips and push them up against his own. A shiver runs down your spine, and all of you shudders in response. "You wanna spoil me, huh?"
Leon's baby blues are now smoldering and glued onto his wife like she's his next meal. "N-not like that." You stumble over your words, trying to stay on task.
"Well, then, like what?" Your husband mumbles against your skin. His stubble leaves a prickling sensation all over as he kisses along your neck. All you can do is grab onto his broad shoulders and take deep, grounding breaths.
"I was thinking of relaxing things not physically strenuous. Like a shower or bath where I wash you up. A massage and dinner. Then, whatever you want, like cuddles or I buy you something special." It's embarrassing how your voice is so shaky and you sound timid. But when he kisses all over your neck like that, sucking and licking your skin, it becomes difficult to think straight.
He pulls back so he can look you in the eyes. An endless blue sky meeting your gaze. "And what if I want sex? To just drink you up?" His voice is husky, and your toes curl against the rug. You insist on taking care of him and promise more intimate things can come later. He reassures you he's teasing and pecks your lips.
A few minutes later, you've got Leon in the bathroom, blue and white tiles surrounding you both. You don't even let him undress himself, your hands working efficiently to get him ready for a shower. You reach for your own top to start undressing, but he stops you with an indignant scoff.
"What are you doing? Let me undress my wife." He reaches for you, and you pull away with a light laugh.
"No. This isn't about me," you protest. He reaches again, and this time, his large hands start tickling you. You explode with laughter, wiggling in Leon's grasp. Pleas spill from your lips for mercy between every fit of laughter.
His own merry laughs join you, and joy fills that space to the brim. It fills your heart, and you know he can feel it, too. Soon enough, you're both naked and under the shower's warm spray of water.
You lather up soap on your hands and knead his muscles, starting at those breathtaking shoulders and traveling down his toned arms. You're so focused on easing the tension in his muscles and washing him up. You don't even notice his eyes on you the whole time.
Leon finds it hard to believe that he's here. No monsters. No death. No blood splatters. He's here right now with you. He has a loving wife, and sunlight is shining straight into the sanctuary of the shower, setting her a glow like some angel.
Both of you are shocked out of your thoughts when you go to wash his dick. I mean, obviously, he's your husband, and you've touched it plenty. This just seems so much more intimate somehow. You peek up at him, blinking away water drops from your lashes.
"You gonna wash me or not?" A teasing tone is in his voice, and he lifts a brow. You mumble that you will, face burning the whole time. A soft groan leaves his lips when you wash that part of him, and the reaction between your own legs has you backing off.
"Alright, you can rinse off now." Your back now faces him as you get to washing yourself. Leon grumbles like a sulking puppy when you refuse to let him wash you. When you're rinsed off, you eagerly get to work on his hair.
"You really don't have to do all this," Leon mumbles while your hands scrub at his scalp. His eyes are half-lidded, and he seems moments away from falling asleep.
You answer affectionately that you want to. "Leon, baby. You've been through so much. It's the least I can do."
He turns to you when his dirty blond locks are clean and his large hands cup your face. There's a fierce adoration in his eyes as he confesses how much he loves you before claiming your lips. Heat wraps around you entirely under the flowing water, and you dig into his biceps. Before things escalate, you pull away, gasping for air.
By now, his hands are on your hips, and his body is flushed against your own. "Let me wash your hair." His voice is low and gravely after the kisses you just shared. Of course, you nod, giving into your husband's request.
When all is said and down, you both get dressed in the bedroom. Though with the way his eyes track you, it's clear that he wishes you wouldn't wear anything. "So, dinner first then massage?" You ask your bulky man, slipping on casual lounging pants.
"Hmm? Yeah, sure." He agrees, eyes still stuck on the last glimpse of your thighs. You smirk, noticing his distracted state and playfully shove his shoulder.
"What is wrong with you?" The question leaves you with a bubbling over laugh.
"What? I can't admire my wife?" A smile gradually overtakes him, and the mischief in his eyes is your only warning before he throws you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. "Let's go. You promised me dinner, didn't you?" He pats your butt while you're stuck giggling and yelling at him to put you down.
His heavy steps lead you to the black and red themed kitchen. Then, he sets you down on the wooden floor. You pout up at him, lightly punching his muscular arm. But he just laughs quietly and kisses your forehead.
Then, you get some music going and get to work, making one of his favorite meals. You have to force him to sit in the living room so he won't help you, but he gradually comes closer, and you're too weak to fight it. First, he scooted closer on the couch, then he sat at the circular kitchen table, and finally, he ended up leaning against the marble counter.
"Alright, all done." You proclaim with a proud smile. You set the steaming dish in the middle of the sturdy table. He goes to grab plates and drinks for you both. So, you have to set him down again at the table like a misbehaving child.
When you're both settled at the dinner table with drinks and food on your plates, he thanks you. He has the most affectionate gleam in his eyes, and you melt into a puddle. You're just so happy to care for him and so grateful he's allowing you. So glad that you get to share this life with one another.
Dinner is a quiet affair, but there's plenty of talking with your eyes. Light and joy brightening them up like fireflies on a summer night. Quick flashes of desire like fireworks during the dawn of a new year. Warm, comforting affection like the kind a full, steaming mug of your favorite drink in winter gives you.
It's late by the time you settle in your shared bedroom. The lamp set on the white nightstand by your side of the bed is aglow. It casts shadows along the sky blue walls. "Lay down." You grin up at your husband, urging him forward. You practically push him up against the bed and down on his back.
"Alright, alright." He raises his hands up in surrender and fights the urge to bust up laughing at your antics.
"Now, turn over." You instruct your big, brawny man after he laid on his back. The mattress springs creak as he settles on his stomach. You climb on top of him, trying not to get dirty ideas as your hips straddle the perfect build of this man. You clear your throat, focusing up.
You are by no means a masseuse, but being married to a man who is constantly getting his back thrown into things you've gotten pretty good. You start kneading out the stiffness in his shoulders. Every one of his relieved groans has you preening and your lips twitching upwards.
"Thank you, honey." He hums in satisfaction, body melting underneath your working hands. You finish up, placing a big fat kiss right between his shoulder blades.
"All good?" You flop on the bed, curled up next to your husband. Your eyes are on him, a relaxed smile stuck on your lips.
He turns his head to face you, cheek pressed against his forearm. "Yeah, all good." He mutters, sounding ready for sleep. You turn out the light, and the mattress shifts under you as Leon reaches for you.
Your giggles fill the darkness as he draws you to his solid chest. You snuggle closer, savoring his warmth. "Thank you for everything," he calls your name tenderly. "I love you so much. You're too good to me."
His fingers card through your hair, slow and reverent. Everything feels right in the world as he holds you. "You know it's my pleasure to take care of you, Leon."
He hums, sounding so content and at peace. His lips brush over your temple, and in return, you place a kiss over his heart. It might seem simple just holding someone in complete and utter silence. But right here. Right here is home. Right here is where you always wanna be. In his arms.
SUMMARY: On Valentine's Day, you find out you're pregnant, but that only makes you overthink about the what ifs no matter how Leon tries to help you deal with it
‼️: Infertility, miscarriage (and procedures), mentions of sibling loss, angst (fluff by the end)
✹ PAIRINGS: RE6 Leon Kennedy x Wife!Reader
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💬 ST. VALENTINE'S FEST DAY 1/4. Remember to comment which Leon do you think I'm posting tomorrow to win a chance of getting a chance to request me a fic (everything's included in the event post) 🤭 Hope you like this one!
Two pink lines, clear and unmistakable.
You’ve been standing there, sitting on the sofa, for five minutes straight. You didn’t move, and all you did was try to calm yourself even your hands won’t stop trembling uncontrollably.
Your eyes are fixed on the positive pregnancy test resting on the table.
And today, of all days, it’s February 14th. Valentine’s Day. A date that for you and Leon, who’ve been already married for seven years, barely has any importance. But, now that you’ve taken the test…
Fuck.
Two fucking pink lines.
You hear the front door open, followed by quick and firm footsteps. You start being even more nervous when you realize it can’t be your four-year-old daughter since she’s napping in her room, so…
“Love?”
Of course it had to be Leon. At the worst possible moment.
You look up at him. He’s in the kitchen, taking off his jacket and draping it over the back of a chair, setting his gun down in one of the hidden kitchen cabinets right after unloading it.
You notice how his gaze scans every corner of the house as he walks toward you, like he always does to make sure everything’s in order even when he knows you’re safe.
The moment he’s close enough to see your whole body trembling, he looks you up and down, concerned, and then follows your gaze to the table.
Of course, you don’t say anything. You can’t.
You look back down at the test and start fidgeting with your hands nervously, as if that could change anything.
That makes Leon go on full alert more, getting even more worried than he probably needs to be.
“What’s wrong?” he asks quickly, kneeling in front of you. “Did something happen? Is our girl okay?”
“Yeah, sure…” you rush to say. “She’s asleep. Don’t worry about that…”
Your eyes drop back to the test, and that’s when Leon realizes what you’re actually looking at.
A pregnancy test with two clearly visible pink lines.
A positive pregnancy test.
Leon goes completely still, but his eyes keep flicking from the test to you, and from you back to the test.
You had been trying for over a year now and all you’d gotten was one negative test after another. Every time you saw a single line, every time your period came again, you felt more useless, like your body simply wasn’t meant to be a mother.
There were days you even felt like your daughter shouldn’t have been yours either. Luckily, Leon had always been there to support you, just like he is now, still kneeling in front of you, his thumb gently stroking your knee.
“I don’t know if I can go through this shit again,” you whisper.
“Hey… look at me,” Leon says, and you don’t really know why, but you do. He’s smiling at you. “What do you mean with that?”
Your lips tremble, unsure of what to say.
“I mean… yeah, sure, I’m very happy, but I thought I’d be happier if this ever happened… That I’d start crying and all that… I’m not going to lie: I did feel happy when I saw the positive, but once it really sank in…” you force yourself to stop and swallow. “I remembered everything, and well… you know me. I overthink. Nothing new.”
“You mean about what happened two years ago?”
That’s what finally makes the tears you’ve been holding back start to fall. You nod, shyly.
“I was sixteen weeks, Leon. Sixteen fucking weeks. We’d heard the heartbeat, we had already started setting up some things for the nursery. Fuck, Leon, they even told us it was going to be another girl…”
“Hey…”
“And then it all happened,” you continue. “The gurney. Them telling me they couldn’t find a heartbeat when I’d heard it just a couple of days before… When they told me they had to perform the curettage…”
Leon closes his eyes tightly and shakes his head, trying to block out the memory of seeing you so broken, so vulnerable, so terrified of what the future might hold for the three of you.
“I felt like my body failed you, Leon. And I still feel that way.”
“Don’t you dare say that,” he says firmly, standing up slightly and taking your face in his hands. “Do you hear me? Don’t you ever say that again.” His thumbs wipe away the tears running down your cheeks. You shake your head.
“I was supposed to protect her, Leon,” you reply. “From everything I could. That was the only job I had, and I couldn’t even do that right.”
“You did,” he insists. “And while our whole world was falling apart, you were still taking care of our daughter, just like you did when you were pregnant with her four, almost five years ago.”
You feel dizzy and nauseous. You don’t know if it’s from the pregnancy you just discovered or from reliving the one that became your worst nightmare.
“I’m scared to get my hopes up again,” you confess. “I’m scared to tell our daughter and then have something happen and have her ask us again why the baby isn’t coming. How am I supposed to explain to her, again, that she lost a little sibling?”
Leon doesn’t answer. Instead, he sits beside you and pulls you into a tight embrace. Your face rests against his chest, and he gently strokes your hair, pressing soft kisses to your forehead and cheeks, doing everything he can to calm you.
“Let’s take it one day at a time, okay? Little by little,” he murmurs into your hair. “We don’t have to tell anyone yet. We don’t have to prepare anything, just… let’s live this without fear, sweetheart. Please.”
“How can you be so calm about this?” you ask, gripping his shirt and looking up at him timidly.
“Because we’ve already seen the worst and still managed to move forward,” your husband replies with a sad smile. “I remember that night after the procedure, when you were admitted and I had to help you to the bathroom because you couldn’t stand on your own. You told me, ‘One day we’ll try again.’”
“I didn’t think you’d remember that… And I didn’t think that ‘one day’ would actually come. But seriously, Leon… what if it all goes wrong again?”
“You don’t owe me anything, and of course not a child,” Leon says seriously, gently taking your face in his hands so you’ll look at him. “I love you, our daughter, and the life we have, which is more than perfect. You’re the bravest woman I’ve ever seen, and I’ve seen quite a lot… And, honestly… all I can do is thank you for still being here with me after everything we’ve been through.”
“Are you sure you want this, Leon?” you ask uncertainly, lifting your head slightly from his chest to look at him.
“More than anything. And, especially, if it’s with you.”
You stay wrapped in each other’s arms for a while, in complete silence except for the low murmur of the television.
“And it’s Valentine’s Day of all days…” he adds, smiling a little more now. “What a gift I gave you, huh? And we promised we wouldn’t get each other anything…”
“It’s the best gift anyone’s ever given me,” you say, leaning up to give him a short kiss on the lips. “Even though we both made it happen, just so we’re clear,” you add.
Leon laughs and leans in to kiss you, his hand resting at the nape of your neck to pull you closer. It seems like it’s going to last longer than the one you just gave him, but a small yawn makes you both pull apart.
You both turn your heads and see your daughter walking toward you, barefoot and rubbing one eye. Her hair, Leon’s exact color, is completely tangled, and her blue star-patterned pajamas are wrinkled. She shuffles forward carefully, trying not to step on her Peppa Pig plushie, which is almost bigger than she is and drags along the floor.
“Mommy? Why are you sad?”
You quickly rub your eyes, trying to hide that you’d been crying.
“Come here, honey.”
She walks over and lifts her little arms so you can pick her up. You settle her in your lap, covering her face in kisses while your husband tickles her side, making her giggle, just like music to your ears.
Leon smiles softly, wrapping his arm around both of you.
“Did you have a good nap, princess?”
Your daughter nods, kissing her dad on the cheek before turning back to you, narrowing her eyes slightly as if studying you.
“Are you sad?”
You shake your head and hug her tight.
“No, honey. I’m… happy. And a little scared, too.”
“Why, mommy?”
You exchange a look with Leon. To your surprise, he nods decisively, as if you hadn’t just been talking about this exact thing.
You take a deep breath, trying to stay as calm as possible.
“Because daddy and I have something very special to tell you. And since it’s something important, mommy is feeling maaaaany things all at once.”
“Is it a surprise?!” your daughter exclaims, eyes wide, bouncing on your lap and clapping with her hands.
“Yeah, you could say that,” Leon says, trying to contain his excitement.
And, in that moment, you know it’s time.
“Well… in a little while, you might have a baby sibling.”
Your daughter stares at you for a second that feels eternal.
When it finally sinks in, her mouth falls open.
“Really, mommy?!”
“Yeah, really, sweetheart,” Leon whispers.
That pulls the first genuine smile from you all day, and you can’t stop a few happy tears from slipping out.
Your daughter lets out a squeal of joy, immediately hugging both of you.
“I’m going to help feed the baby, and I’ll sing to them, and play with them… and I’ll even share Peppa!”
“That’s very generous of you, little one,” Leon laughs, ruffling her hair.
“It looks like you heard me!” your daughter says, carefully climbing down and walking over to her pile of toys. She starts playing with them. “Mr. Bear, did you tell mommy and daddy to call the bees and bring me a baby sibling?”
You laugh through your tears at her childish logic, but this time, it’s something you’re beginning to cling to.
Hope.
You look at Leon, who’s just as absorbed in watching her. You lean back against his chest again, kissing him without caring about your daughter’s loud complaints about how gross mouth-kissing is, before she asks if that means she’s going to get yet another baby sibling.
“Fuck… I’m the luckiest man in the world…”
Leon leans toward you again, though this time his touch seems to linger just a little more intentionally.
“Leon, don’t start…” you scold softly, though your smile betrays you.
“Start what, love?” he feigns innocence. “Can’t I say I’m the luckiest man in the world? And trust me, I’m convinced you’re the luckiest woman in the world.”
And you were, but you weren’t about to give him the satisfaction of saying it.
Instead, you lightly punch his chest.
“You’re impossible.”
“Impossibly fertile, apparently.”
“Leon, for God’s sake!”
He laughs, and you do too, hiding your face in his chest.
“If I already thought we made a great team, just look at us now, when—”
“Leon, stop it, seriously!” you say, hitting his chest again, trying not to laugh too loudly and draw more attention from your daughter than you already had. She’s watching you suspiciously out of the corner of her eye.
Your husband doesn’t seem inclined to behave. He tries to stay calm but leans closer, brushing his mouth against your neck, and—
“Leon Scott Kennedy: behave,” you say sternly, pulling away quickly.
“Can’t I celebrate with my wife that we’re having another baby?” he asks, kissing your cheek.
“Tonight,” you tell him.
He smiles mischievously, and you can’t help but do the same too.
You both know you always keep those kinds of promises.
“Our daughter is five meters away, and—”
“Our daughter thinks babies come from the birds and the bees. I think we’re safe for now.”
You can’t help but laugh. You lean into him again, wrapping your arms carefully around his back.
“You’re a lost cause, Leon Kennedy,” you murmur.
“I might have to correct you there: I’m hopelessly in love with my wife, Mrs. Kennedy.”
THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING! Feedback on the comments and/or reblogs are very much appreciated but, if you feel shy, just send me an anonymous ask!
I've had this event planned for a while and it took me a lot to keep it quiet, so I hope you like it, I'm very much excited about it 🥹
Which Leon do you think tomorrow's fic will be about? 💖✨
Remember telling me in the comments your guess to win a chance of a dedicated requested fic!
amandla
tangentwithtanner
turnnoffyourmind
stormborns
s-u-f-j-a-n-s-t-e-v-e-n-s
areudirty
vaporwave
