DEAR READER
Not today Justin
⁂
JVL
No title available
trying on a metaphor
Sade Olutola
will byers stan first human second
Xuebing Du
Stranger Things
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
wallacepolsom
occasionally subtle
Janaina Medeiros
Misplaced Lens Cap
if i look back, i am lost
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
noise dept.
No title available
sheepfilms
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Spain
seen from United States
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Canada
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seen from Türkiye
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seen from Taiwan
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@h4neypot
WELCOME TO H4NEYPOT !
hi!! i’m rin, she/her, 21.
⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖₊˚⊹° ᡣ𐭩 ࣪ ⋆｡˚
rules / interests / masterlist
enjoy your stay & feel free to reach out and be my friend !!!
18+ only please; no minors please read rules + interests before submitting a req. all work/writing belongs to me; please do not copy or repost anywhere else <3
japan trip – elasticdroid
pairing: elasticdroid x (fem)reader summary: quick little soc media moments of influencer gf and streamer bf in japan! genre: fluff
liked by elasticdroid, pezzyyx, and 74.6k others
youruser: japan japan!!
tagged: elasticdroid
view 674 comments
elasticdroid: Slide 4 is my photo
↳ youruser: congratulations?
pezzyyx: aesthetic
↳ sogrizzy: aesthetic
↳ bigpufferr: aesthetic
↳ elasticdroid: aesthetic
↳ youruser: aesthetic
butternutgiraffe: BEAUTIFULLL
↳ youruser: NO YOUUU
↳ butternutgiraffe: elasticdroid Watch out bro
↳ elasticdroid: butternutgiraffe WOAH WOAH WOAH
user1: wait droid is so cute
↳ youruser: ur on my page bruh
↳ elasticdroid: user1 I'm taken bruh
↳ user2: waitttt ok droid kinda hot sticking up for ur girl
user3: she's so gorgeous and he's just there
↳ youruser: LOLLLL elasticdroid
↳ elasticdroid: user3 ALRIGHT. (You're right.)
user4: droid being normal is so weird to see
↳ youruser: i know i had little options for the photos for this dump
↳ elasticdroid: Do your fans like hate me holy
↳ youruser: elasticdroid ofc not <3
liked by youruser, sogrizzy, and 68.2k others
elasticdroid: Japan lowkey tuff ‼️
tagged: youruser
view 506 comments
pezzyyx: who’s this handsome fella
↳ elasticdroid: 🙋♂️
sogrizzy: Sugoiiiiii
↳ elasticdroid: SUGOIIII
youruser: bitchin about me using one photo u took in my post and ur here posting a million of my photos????????
↳ elasticdroid: Don't hate the player, hate the game baby
youruser: food so yum
↳ elasticdroid: Yummy in the tummy
↳ youruser: like yeah sure i guess
↳ user5: LOL???
kryozgaming: come home the kids miss u
↳ elasticdroid: I'm on the way sweetheart
↳ youruser: am i chopped liver?????
↳ kryozgaming: youruser sry
bigpufferr: Great, now clock in. It's time to gamble online.
↳ elasticdroid: SIR YES SIR
BELLO dipping my feet in the elasticdroid fanbase. tried something new with the IG stories - don't know if i love it
does anyone at all enjoy elasticdroid
i… want to write for him…
love 119 – leon kennedy
pairing: leon kennedy x reader (ft other re characters) summary: it's your first day in the ER as a nurse, and you can't help but fawn over ER attending/SWAT medic leon kennedy genre: fluff (nurse!reader, doctor!leon, the pitt au) warnings: medical talk (brief mentions of: overdose, gunshot wounds)
The automatic doors slide open and the ER greets you with bright fluorescent lights and beeping of monitors. The strong smells of antiseptic and sweat fill your nose (A little bit of blood in there too, but you choose to ignore that).
Someone rushes past you with a gurney, another voice calls out medication orders, and you stand there gripping the strap of your bag as your hands shake, trying to calm yourself despite your anxiety.
You adjust your badge.
“I don’t recognize you, first day?”
The voice questions, and when you turn, you see a woman in grey scrubs with a stethoscope hanging around her neck. She has a tablet tucked under one arm, a pen clipped neatly at her collar. Her badge reads, Claire Redfield, Nurse Leader. So this is who your new boss is.
She’s watching you, eyes narrowing as she waits for you to respond. You quickly nod, realizing you spent too long studying her, and introduce yourself. “Y-yeah, I’m the new nurse!”
Claire smiles, “Welcome to hell.” She gestures for you to follow. “Stick with me today,” she says. “I’ll show you how we do things around here.”
You rush to her side, your every step behind hers.
She walks you past triage first. You overhear a fellow nurse speak to a patient clutching their side, asking the right questions to get the right information. The chairs are filled to the brim, people being looked at, people in pain.
“Everything starts at triage,” Claire explains. “You’ll be stuck here eventually, but for now, you’re stuck in the hub with me. The hub,” She starts as you make your way back to the first area you met her at, “is the center of everything. We got the computers, screens all here. There’s beds in the hallways here because we just don’t have enough room for them upstairs.”
You nod, trying to absorb everything she points out. From supply rooms to medication carts, you keep these locations in mind. She shows you where the crash carts are positioned strategically in case of a code blue. You hope it’s a long time before you need to use one of those.
She shows you one of the many private rooms of the ER - each filled with a different patient. Walking past the rooms quickly, you catch a young man on the bed with his parents by his side. Claire keeps walking, rambling on about the hospital policies that she thinks are ridiculous. You don’t mean to, but you pause at the sight of the parents, heart breaking at the extreme grief and pain on their faces.
You jump when Claire calls your name, “We don’t have all day, kid.”
She walks towards you, and softens when she realizes where you’re standing. “That’s Nick. He’s a college student. Overdose.” She sighs. “They’re waiting on test results, but it doesn't look so good.”
“Will they be alright?”
“Yeah,” Claire turns to you, “we’ll make sure they’ll be.”
She pats you on the arm and nods her head forward. You weakly smile and go back to following her.
“That’s trauma one and trauma two,” Claire continues, gesturing towards them. “If something critical comes in, which is often, we go wherever is free. I’m the one who chooses who calls dibs on the rooms.”
As if summoned by the word critical, an ambulance alarm echoes through the open doors of the ER, piercing sharp. You flinch and glance back instinctively.
“You get used to the noise,” Claire laughs as you feel the embarrassment rise. “It’s always loud, always moving. There’s always someone to save, got it?” You nod quickly.
She takes you to the nurses’ station, giving a quick overview of the room. Where to keep your snacks, where the good coffee is. “I know it’s a lot, but we got good people here.” She starts to walk out with you, but stops near the doorway.
“That’s Jill Valentine,” she says, nodding toward a woman leaning over a patient’s arm in the hallway, stitching with steady hands and determined focus. “Senior resident. You’ll learn a lot from her if you pay attention.”
Jill looks up at the sound of her name, “You’ll learn best from Claire, kid. She’s the real boss of this place.”
“Damn right.” Claire smirks.
She then looks over to the desks. “And those two,” she adds, “are Sherry Birkin and Grace Ashcroft.”
You follow her line of sight and find them near the central area. They’re hunched over computers, both in wrinkled scrubs. Sherry is flipping through a patient’s chart while Grace is typing up a storm, charting, her brow furrowed in concentration.
“They’re interns,” Claire says. “First year. They’re still figuring out how to keep up.”
Sherry perks up at her name, shouting a quick “Hi!”, and Grace gives you a smile and a small wave before returning to her screen, like she can’t afford to lose her train of thought.
“They’ll get there,” Claire turns to look at you. “Just like you will.”
You grin, the reassurance feels good.
“And that,” her gaze is off to the left, “is Chris Redfield.”
You turn. He stands near the tracker screens, studying the patients names and rooms. He’s tall and… huge, speaking to another nurse with a strong presence that draws attention. His voice is firm and his whole aura feels authoritative.
“Redfield?” You question.
“He’s my brother.” She shrugs. “But don’t think I’m some kind of nepo baby. I was here first before him.” She narrows her eyes at you. You giggle and nod.
“He’s the head of the department and an attending.” Claire explains. “If something bad happens, he’s the one taking the blame for it.”
Noticing his sister, Chris nods in thanks at the nurse. He makes his way over to you two. “Hi,” He greets, offering his hand. “I’m Dr. Redfield, your attending for the day shift.”
You shake his hand, “Hi, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m excited to be here and work with you all.”
Claire grins, “Ah, yes, the fresh excitement of working here before this place drains you dry. You’re so cute, kid.”
He rolls his eyes, “Ignore her. You’ll do great.” He gets called away for a second opinion, and offers a nod to you before leaving.
“So, wrapping up the tour, welcome to the ER,” Claire pats you on the back. “It doesn’t really slow down.”
The corners of your mouth twitched upwards. “I’m starting to see that.”
After the tour, the morning moves faster than you expect.
Claire, as promised, keeps you close, guiding you through everything and easing you into it. She has you check vitals, prep IV lines, and restock supplies between patients. She explains things as you go, never slowing the pace, but also never leaving you behind. You absorb all that you can, seeing your school notes translate to real life in real time.
You meet patients who thank you with tired smiles and patients who barely notice you at all. You learn how to anticipate what Claire needs before she asks, how to step in and step back at the right moments.
At some point, you realize your hands have stopped shaking.
“Not bad,” Claire says after you successfully start an IV on your second attempt. “You’ve got good instincts.”
“Thanks,” you beam, trying to keep your tone even.
“Don’t let it go to your head rookie.” she adds, but there’s a hint of a smile there.
“Incoming!” The warm moment between you two is cut off by the paramedics rushing in with a gurney. “GSW to the neck!”
The patient on the gurney is wearing army gear, and you notice a man next to him wearing the same outfit. He’s tall, also has that authoritative aura like Chris, but slightly different. He’s pressing on the balloon attached to the patient’s airway. He yells, “He’s getting harder to bag, Claire, give me a room!”
“Trauma two,” Claire shouts out quickly, already moving. She turns to you. “Let’s go, stay with me.”
You rush into the trauma room. It’s you, Claire, Grace, and the man you haven’t met. He’s a dirty blonde with bright blue eyes. He’s quite handsome with the way he’s dressed up and the way he looks like he knows what he’s doing. God, you scoff in your head, first day on the job and you already got a small, unrealistic crush to keep you entertained.
“On three,” The man firmly says. “One, two, three!”
You move with them, helping transfer the patient onto the bed. As the man hands the balloon over to you to keep pumping, you make eye contact.
“Who’s this? Found yourself a protégé, Claire?”
“Shut it. Someone get Chris!” She yells out the room.
Seconds later, he rushes into the room, putting on his latex gloves. “Woah, have a fun morning off, Kennedy?”
“You know it, man.” Kennedy, you make a mental note to remember the name.
“You do this intubation?” Chris asks.
“Of course, on the field.”
“First you work in the ER as a night shift attending, then you decide to spend your free time as a SWAT medic? I'm starting to think you’re an adrenaline junkie, Doc.” Claire jokes.
SWAT medic? And ER attending? This just sounds extremely, incredibly hot.
“Ashcroft, what could cause respiratory failure in an intubated patient?” Chris interrupts your very not HR friendly thoughts.
“Well, a lot of things, sir, like-”
“Think DOPE.” Kennedy cuts off her rambling.
“Displacement, Obstruction, Pneumothorax, Equipment failure.” Grace answers.
“Good.” Chris nods.
The team works quickly, with Chris and Kennedy going back and forth on options of what to do. Kennedy ends up taking control, inserting a tube to ensure that the patient can breathe.
“You’re okay, Muller.” Kennedy reassures him. “We got you.”
Once his vitals are steady and there’s no immediate danger, a surgical resident, Helena, comes down to take Muller upstairs to the operating room. You finally feel yourself releasing a deep breath you didn’t know you were holding onto.
“Good job with your first trauma.” Claire smiles like a proud parent. “Hey, go take a five minute break, yeah?”
You nod and make your way over to the nurses’ station. You just want a quiet place to sit and think, so once you notice that there are other nurses, you roam around looking for an empty room.
You see that there’s one with the lights off and the door slightly open. Sneaking in and closing the door behind you, you sigh in relief. You flick the light switch up.
“Room’s taken.”
The voice is familiar. You walk up to behind the curtain and see Kennedy sitting on the bed, shirtless. Your eyes widen at the sight, he’s… buff.
“Oh my god, I am so, so sorry, I was just looking for a quiet place to sit for a minute, and this room didn’t even have the lights on, so I assumed it was empty and-”
“Relax.” He teased. “I was just joking, kid.”
“Oh.” You huff. “Why are you shirtless?”
“Bullet grazed my vest.”
You raised your brows, “Wow.”
“Don’t worry sweetheart, I promise the other guy ended up worse than me. Plus he doesn’t have a pretty nurse by his side.” He winks. You avert his gaze, smiling shyly at the floor. He’s handsome, smart, and he’s flirting with you? First day jackpot.
“What’s your name?”
You give him your name, “Yours?”
“Leon.”
Leon Kennedy. Even his name is beautiful.
“Nice to meet you, Leon.”
“How’s your first day going?” He asks as he’s cutting up pieces of body tape.
“Good so far. Everyone here is great, really. It’s a lot,” you sigh, “but it’s what I signed up for, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, we’re all sadists here.” Leon smirks. He puts ointment on a swab, leans over to try to reach the back of his shoulder.
“Here, let me.” You gather your courage and walk towards him, grabbing a pair of gloves.
“No, I got this.” He waves you off.
“Are you talking back to the nurse?” You joke, raising an eyebrow, as if testing him. He laughs suddenly, and you feel a sense of pride that you got him to laugh. He reaches his arm out to hand over the swab.
Close up, you really start to admire him. You see his layered hair, dirty blonde, as you observed earlier, but now, you can see strands of grey in them. You see his sharp blue eyes, brighter up close. His sculpted jawline and his stubble. He’s a handsome man. You feel lucky to be in his presence.
You shake yourself out of it and do your job, taking care of those who are hurt. With a gentle touch, you fix him up, starting with putting the ointment on. He hisses slightly at the sting, and you whisper a small “Sorry.”
Other than that, it’s silent between you two the whole time, but you like it.
“There!” You smile to yourself as you put on the last piece of dressing. “All patched up, Doc.”
“Not so bad.” Leon nods. “I’d give a 100 for the patient satisfaction score.”
You smile as you take off your gloves. “Thanks.”
To your disappointment, he moves to put his shirt back on. “Hey, you always flirt with your medical staff,” you ask, keeping your tone light, “or is this a special occasion?”
His lips curve upwards as he pulls the shirt down. “Only when they handle trauma like that on their first day.”
You bite your lip to try to cover your growing smile. “Careful,” you warn. “You’re still my patient.”
“Then I’ll behave,” he replies.
You shake your head slightly, unable to hide your smile.
“Get some rest before your shift, yeah?” you tell him.
“Nurse’s orders?” he grins.
“Nurse’s orders.”
“I see Claire’s already training you well.”
You smile again, something you feel yourself doing a lot with Leon, as you move to throw away the trash from the dressing and the ointment.
“Hey.”
You pause, looking at him.
He holds your stare, his eyes are filled with warmth, maybe a little bit of fondness. “Welcome to the ER.”
You nod, “Thanks.”
“Your first shift is almost over, isn’t it?”
“Yep, couple more hours to go and then, it’s your turn.” You take off your gloves and throw them in the trash.
“Wanna grab some food before your shift tomorrow?” You look up to see Leon, fiddling with a loose thread from his shirt. It’s a complete contrast of what you’ve seen from him so far, uncharacteristically shy. It warms your heart to know that he’s nervous about asking you out.
“I’d love to, Leon.”
His eyes light up as he reaches for his phone. “Great, give me your number and I’ll send you a text.”
You type in the digits, saving your contact as your name. “Great.”
“This’ll get me through my shift.” He winks.
Rolling your eyes, you purse your lips to hide your smile. “Get some rest.”
“Of course, pretty nurse. See you later.”
You exit the room, smiling to yourself like an idiot.
And if you spent the rest of your shift skipping around while treating patients and smiling wide, then that’s no one else’s business.
the concept of leon kennedy as jack abbot and no i will not be doing a pt 2 of this and yes i did steal some of the medical lines from the pitt script also the layout of the ER here is based on the pitt set i tried my very best to make this readable where even if you dont know the show this is still digestible so hopefully that's ok...
guys the pitt au leon fic is almost done - going to read through it one more time and should be good to post tonight.... it's yummy....
i think this person ripped off your frat schlatt fic
https://www.tumblr.com/evitttaa/813099989257601024/acting
thank you for letting me know!! all resolved now <3
This isn’t particularly a request i just love your isaacwhy fanfics it made me giggle and smile keep up the good work!!
THANK YOU!!!! me posting for the 10 isaacwhy enjoyers is my passion
ok now that lovers rock pt 2 is out it’s time for me to cook a bit more
hint im finally caught up on the pitt… thinking of leon as dr abbot… walk with me here
warm – leon kennedy
pairing: leon kennedy x reader (ft other re characters) summary: after the team finds out leon's married, his wife invites them over for dinner for the first time. genre: fluff pt 1: lovers rock
You start preparing three hours earlier than you really need to.
You want everything to be right. The food, the table, the way the apartment smells when they walk in, you know that these people are important to Leon, so they’re important to you too. You hum a song you heard online under your breath as you move around the kitchen, stirring the sauce, checking the oven, wiping down a counter that’s already clean.
Leon watches you with an amused smirk before he says anything.
“You’ve reorganized the table three times,” he points out from where he leans against the doorway.
You glance over your shoulder, smiling brightly. “Four, actually. The other forks looked a little… cold? If that makes sense?”
“The forks... Cold?”
“Yeah,” you nod, completely serious. “I think it’s the silver color, giving off a weird vibe. These are more welcoming, see?” You lift a new fork up. These ones are a different shade.
He’s even more amused, shaking his head with small laughter. “I think you’re the only person I know who can assign personalities to cutlery.”
“It’s an important skill,” you grin, turning back to the stove. “Very transferable.”
You use a small spoon to taste the sauce, eyes lighting up. “Oh, wait, this is actually really good.”
“It was really good twenty minutes ago,” Leon says.
“Yeah, but now it’s really really good,” you correct, beaming.
He pushes himself off the doorway and walks over to you, resting his hands on the counter beside you. “You’re not nervous?”
You lift the spoon up to his lips, letting him have a taste too. “Oh, I’m extremely nervous. I just decided I’m going to channel it into being very excited instead.”
“That’s healthy of you. Also, this sauce is very good.”
“Don’t I know it?” You smirk, nudging him lightly with your hip. “You’re supposed to reassure me, you know.”
“I already did,” he replies. “You just didn’t listen.”
The doorbell rings, interrupting your response. Your entire face lights up.
“Oh my god, they’re here.”
Leon barely has time to react before you’re already halfway to the door.
“Hey,” he calls after you, amused. “I thought you were nervous.”
“I am,” you say over your shoulder, reaching for the handle anyway. “But again, I’m also excited. These two feelings can coexist!”
You hear chatter behind the door, something about who’s holding the wine. You swing the door open.
“Hi!”
The group pauses for a split second, clearly not expecting the immediate burst of energy. In front of them is a very smiley woman dressed in a soft pink sweater and light jeans. They didn't know what to expect when they thought of Leon's wife, but the person they imagined wasn't as... bright as you.
Claire recovers first, her expression breaking into a smile reflecting yours. Looks like she’s the one stuck with holding the wine. “Hi!” She thrusts the bottle into your hands. “A little gift from us!”
“Oh, you guys didn’t have to, how sweet! Come in, come in,” you say quickly, stepping aside and gesturing them in. “I’m so happy to finally meet all of you.”
Sherry lights up instantly, matching your energy without hesitation. “We’ve been dying to meet you.”
“And I’ve been dying to meet you all,” you shoot back, laughing. “Leon talks about you guys all the time.”
Leon, behind you, mutters something under his breath that sounds very close to your name. You pretend like you couldn’t hear it at all.
Chris steps in, glancing around the apartment. “Nice place.”
“Thank you! We decorated it right after we moved in.” You grin.
“More like you decorated.” Leon corrects you, knowing he didn’t do anything besides hand over the credit card.
“Nice to know someone here has taste.” Jill says cooly as she steps inside. You grin. Leon did warn you already that Jill might be the most intimidating from the start, but you feel like you’re okay.
Grace is the last one in, “Thanks for having us.”
She leans in for a quick hug, and you hold her back, not expecting it but happy with it. “Of course, it’s great to meet you.” You know from Leon that she's the newest addition to their little entourage.
You turn back to face everyone. “Okay, shoes off wherever, make yourselves comfortable,” you continue, already moving backward toward the kitchen. “I made way too much food, so you’re all obligated to eat.”
“That’s my favorite kind of obligation,” Chris smirks, slipping his jacket off.
The apartment fills quickly, conversation layering over itself as everyone settles in. Leon grabs the wine glasses, pouring some of the gift and handing the glasses out. You float between the kitchen and the table, still smiling, still talking, still somehow keeping everything together.
Leon watches you the entire time. Jill and Grace, both observant as ever, see the warmth in his eyes. Grace smiles to herself, after their… experience together, she’s glad Leon has someone like you to come home to.
Dinner starts with a little bit of chaos and a lot of laughter. You insist on serving everyone, even when they try to help.
“No, no, sit,” you say, waving them off. “You’re guests. This is my moment.”
“Your moment,” Chris repeats.
“Yes,” you nod firmly, placing a plate in front of him. “Please respect it.”
Sherry giggles, leaning over to Claire. “I like her.”
“I know, me too.” Claire whispers back. Leon pretends like he didn’t hear it, but the quirk of his lips betrays him.
Once everyone’s settled, the conversation picks up naturally. They talk about their current missions, the annoyance of filling out the paper work, all of the stuff that comes along with their jobs that you don’t fully understand. It doesn’t take long before it turns to you.
“So, we’re all dying to know.” Sherry starts, leaning forward eagerly. “How did you two meet?”
You light up immediately. “Oh, I was just waiting for you to ask. It’s actually kind of funny.”
Leon sighs beside you, already knowing what’s coming. “It is not funny,” he mutters.
“It is funny,” you insist, turning to the others. “Okay, so I had just started at the DSO as a data analyst, right? First week, I’m trying to prove that I know what I’m doing, and I get assigned this project with so much data. Like an insane, messy mountain of data.”
Jill nods slightly. “Sounds about right.”
“I’m sitting there at my computer, and it’s just not working,” you explain, hands moving as you talk. “Like, every time I fix one thing, something else isn't working, and I didn’t realize I was talking out loud, but I was. Very passionately.”
“You were arguing with a computer,” Leon adds.
“I was…,” you correct. “Working out my game plan.”
Claire laughs. “As you should.”
“And then,” you go on, grinning now, “this guy just appears behind me out of nowhere and goes,” You put on a deeper voice, arms crossing. “‘You’re doing it wrong.’”
Sherry’s eyes widen. “No way, that’d piss me off.”
“Yes way,” you nod. “And it did. This random guy, judgemental as hell!”
“I wasn’t judging,” Leon defends himself.
“You absolutely were,” you say, pointing at him. “I turned around and was like, ‘Excuse me?’”
Chris snorts into his drink.
“And he just looks at my screen, reaches over, without asking, by the way, and starts touching my computer.”
“You were stuck about what to do.” Leon puts his hands up, giving up his argument.
“I was figuring it out,” you correct him. “There’s a difference.”
Grace watches the two of you, amusement flickering in her eyes.
“So he fixes it in, like, two minutes,” you continue, smiling now. “And I’m just sitting there, kind of stunned and a little pissed off, because it actually works.”
“And?” Claire prompts.
“And then he just goes, ‘There,’ like that explains everything, and starts to walk away.”
“I had things to do,” Leon mutters.
“I didn’t even know his name,” you laugh. “So I’m like, ‘Wait!’ and he turns around, and I swear, this man looks mad that I’m still speaking. As if he wasn’t the one to put himself in this situation.”
Everyone laughs.
“That sounds like him,” Jill smirks.
“I asked him who he was,” you go on, eyes bright. “And he goes, ‘Leon.’ Just Leon. Like he’s some kind of mysterious one-name legend.”
Chris leans back in his chair. “That’s because he thinks he is.”
“I do not,” Leon says.
“You did,” you and Chris say at the same time.
You grin. “Anyway, I thanked him, obviously, because he did help, and then I told him he had terrible people skills.”
Sherry gasps. “You didn’t.”
“I did,” you nod, smirking. “And he just stared at me for a second, like no one had ever said that to him before.”
“No one had,” Leon admits.
Claire scoffs, “I’m sure I’ve said it once or twice.” Leon rolls his eyes in response.
“And then,” you wrap up the story, smiling to yourself, “he came back the next day. And the next. And eventually we started having lunch together, and then coffee, and then the rest is history.”
“The whole yelling at the computer was kinda hot,” Leon smirks.
A small “Ew.” from Sherry and a few smirks around the table. You elbow his side.
Jill watches the two of you.“That’s sweet,” she smiles genuinely. It’s the most emotion you’ve seen from her so far - you like to think it’s progress.
“It’s very us,” you agree.
Leon looks back at you.“Yeah,” he says. “It is.”
He reaches under the table to hold your hand. You wrap your fingers around his instinctively.
The rest of dinner wraps up with more chatter, more sharing stories and more laughter. When everyone finishes their meal, you get echoes of thank yous and compliments on your cooking.
“Any more compliments and my head’s gonna get too big. Can’t have Leon dealing with that.” You grin, “You guys head over to the living room, I’ll clean up and join you.”
“You sure?” Leon wraps his hand around your waist, “I can help.”
You’re about to reject it until Sherry interrupts, “I’ll help!”
You nod and the two of you work side by side seamlessly, working to clear the table. She reaches for a plate near you, her hand brushing yours for a second.
Her gaze drops. She sees the ring on your finger that matches the one she sees Leon wearing. She looks back up at you. “It suits you,” she says, soft like a whisper.
“Thank you,” you smile, reflecting hers.
She nods and goes back to stacking plates. Your heart feels warm at the thought of making progress with Leon’s people, with Leon’s family.
Across the room, Leon is sitting with the rest. Him and Claire on the couch, Jill on the one seater, and Chris on the floor, cross legged. He takes glances at you near the sink with Sherry. The two of you laugh, chatting about whatever, as you scrub the dishes and she dries them. It warms his heart to know that the kid, his kid, likes you.
“It's so cute.” Claire interrupts his staring. “You two fit each other well.”
“You think?”
Chris scoffs, “She balances your fake brooding act.” Leon rolls his eyes.
“People like us need someone like her.” Jill states simply. Leon knows what she means, everyone sitting there knows exactly what she means.
He thinks back to the past few years you’ve been dating. Him coming home from a mission, exhausted, and you’re there awake and waiting for him. He thinks about the food you cook for him, knowing he hasn’t eaten a homecooked meal during his trip. Think about you forcing him to sit and wait as you stitch or wrap him up. How you coax him to bed and run your fingers through his hair as he falls asleep, you always waiting for him to sleep first.
“Yeah,” He sighs, “we do. I’m very lucky.”
Leon hears your steps before he sees you. You’re holding another bottle of wine, “Who’s ready for round two?”
The bottle gets passed around, the wine glasses abandoned. The apartment feels so cozy with you all drinking, chatting, laughing. It gets to the hour where everyone decides to head home, complaining about work early the next day. Goodbyes and hugs are exchanged, Leon does the guy handshake thing with Chris.
Claire hugs you before she goes. “We’re coming back,” she states, firm. “I’m not even asking.”
“Please do,” you reply immediately. “I’ll make dessert next time. Or we can cook together. Or both.”
Claire beams. “Yes. Both.”
Jill gives you a small nod, the smile back on her face. “It was nice to meet you.”
Chris hangs back near the door with Leon. He glances at you chatting with the other women, then at Leon. “Well done,” he says simply.
Leon raises a brow. “On what?”
Chris just shakes his head, a faint but genuine smile on his face. “Everything.”
The door closes as everyone finally leaves, and the apartment is a lot quieter than before. You turn to Leon immediately, practically bouncing on your toes.
“Oh my god, I love them.”
He laughs, stepping closer. “Yeah?”
“They’re so cool,” you continue, grabbing his hand without thinking. “And funny, and I didn’t burn anything, and Claire hugged me, and Sherry and Grace are both so adorable, and Chris and Jill are both kind of scary but in a nice way-”
“In a nice way,” he repeats.
“Yes,” you nod firmly.
He watches you for a second, “Told you they would love you.”
You grin, squeezing his hand, your rings bumping a bit.
“Yeah...” you trail off. “But, I love you most.”
“I love you too.”
lovers rock part 2 as promised.. <3 take a shot everytime i said smile.... im SORRY they're all just so smiley and lovely i love them they deserve this TAGS: @ellabslover @strawberry098 @saria1miyoko @jqsjournal @yaoduriaa @pinkswordlegion @moqnqr @qngelical @leii188 @thatintrovertedbisexual @greywardensaywhat @tera-lefay
lovers rock pt 2 coming hopefully this weekend! super busy with midterms >_< will tag everyone who commented about wanting it!!
adorn – jschlatt
pairing: jschlatt x reader summary: your ex boyfriend is there at the party you're at. luckily for you, his frat brother schlatt has a proposal in mind to get back at him. genre: fluff (fratboy / fake dating)
The music is loud enough to feel the heavy bass echo loudly in your chest. The air is thick with bodies, sweat and alcohol. You should be used to this, really. The frat scene is something you’re very familiar with, but now, you feel like you’re an observer peeking in.
Across the room, your ex laughs like nothing ever happened. He’s standing very close to a girl you’ve never seen, a girl who looks completely different from you. The sight pulls at your heart strings.
“You’re staring,” a voice cuts in between your somber thoughts, low and unimpressed, pulling you out of the spiral before you can sink any deeper into it.
You look to your left and see Schlatt leaning against the doorway, sleeves pushed up and red solo cup in hand. You’re only familiar with him as both your ex and him live together in the frat house. You’ve seen him in passing, giving a bright smile and getting a silent nod back in response. You don’t think you’ve spoken to him for more than four sentences.
“I’m not staring,” you reply, even though you know you’re not convincing him or yourself.
He raises an eyebrow. “You’ve been looking at George for the past five minutes.” he scoffs, pushing himself off the wall and making his way closer to you.
“I just zone out sometimes,” you shrug as your fingers tighten around your own red cup. The couple making out on the couch get up to move somewhere else doing god knows what, and you sit to replace them.
“Yeah,” he mutters, dropping onto the couch beside you, close enough that your shoulder brushes his. “I’m sure that’s it.”
You exhale, a mix of a sad self-loathing laugh and sigh, because there’s no point in pretending with him.
“It’s nothing,” you mutter. You try to give a small smile, unconvincing once more.
Schlatt follows your line of sight until it lands on your ex. “He screw you over?” he asks.
Luckily, there’s no judgment in his tone, just blunt curiosity, and that makes it easier to answer. “Yeah,” you admit. “He did.”
Schlatt nods once. “Cool,” he says flatly. “I hate him.”
You let out a real laugh, the sound surprising you more than him. “Isn’t he your brother? Frat solidarity and all that?”
“There’s a million frat brothers, can’t love em all.” he replies easily.
You giggle some more. “Fair enough.”
“What’d he do?”
“Kiss another girl. I don’t know if it’s that girl,” you point to the girl he’s talking to, “or a whole other one.”
“Shit.” He deadpans.
You don’t know what to say after that. There’s silence between you two that’s comfortable despite being practically strangers, the intense noise of the party filling it between you, and then he leans slightly closer.
“You wanna make him jealous?” he asks right next to your ear.
You blink, caught off guard by how close he is to you. “What?” You laugh nervously, pulling away.
“I’m serious,” he continues, nodding toward your ex. “Guy looks way too comfortable for someone who fucked you over.”
“That’s not your problem,” you point out, even though your gaze flicks back across the room.
“No, it’s not.” he agrees. “But it could be my entertainment.”
You shake your head, a small smile pulling at your lips. “You’re unbelievable.”
“And you’re considering it,” he smirks, like he already knows what you’ll say.
You hesitate, because he’s right, and you hate that he’s right, because part of you wants your ex to look over and feel the way you feel right now, instead of acting like you never mattered.
“How would that even work?” you look back at him.
Schlatt’s mouth tilts into a grin that is far too confident. “We fake date.”
You stare at him, waiting for him to take it back.
“That’s your plan?” you ask. “What is this, To All the Boys I've Loved Before?”
He rolls his eyes, “It’s a good plan.”
“It’s a terrible plan,” you counter.
“Maybe,” he says with a shrug. “But it’ll work.”
You look back at your ex again, at the way he still hasn’t even glanced in your direction, and that fuels you with just enough anger to make your decision.
“Okay,” you agree.
Schlatt’s grin appears immediately. You hate that he knew you would say yes all along.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” you repeat, exhaling slowly. “But if this turns into a disaster, I’m blaming you for all of it.”
“Deal,” he says without hesitation.
Before you can second guess yourself, his hand finds yours, fingers warm as they lace together.
And after that first move, it’s easy. It feels almost natural.
Schlatt keeps you close without asking, his hand settles heavy at your waist, and he talks to you like you’ve known each other for years, leaning in just enough to make everything more, well, romantic.
You match his actions and energy, laughing at his comments, nudging his shoulder, letting your fingers graze against his arm just long enough to sell it.
It works faster than you expect. Your ex notices.
You see it in the way his expression shifts when he finally looks over. Your eyes catch one another and you find a sick joy in seeing the confusion flickering across his face. For the first time all night, he’s paying attention.
Schlatt notices too, of course he does, and his thumb presses lightly against your side, turning your attention back to him.
“See that?” he murmurs under his breath. “That’s what we’re going for.”
You nod, your heart beating faster than it should. You blame it on the fact that your ex has his eyes on you, not the fact that Schlatt’s been glued to you all night. That you can feel his strong, firm arms around you. That you realize how funny and smart he really is.
It’s your ex not him, you remind yourself. Right?
—
And the act doesn’t end when the party does.
The next morning, you wake up to a text from him that makes you smile before you can stop yourself.
Schlatt: did we break up overnight or are we still doing this
You stare at your phone for a second, then type back.
You: depends. you still annoying?
Schlatt: always
You laugh out loud, the sound echoing in your room.
—
Schlatt starts showing up outside your classes, leaning against the wall, and you fall into step beside him. He slows his pace to match yours, walking you across campus.
You sit together for lunch, joking around and talking about anything and everything, and he shows up to your tutoring sessions with an expression that shows he would rather be anywhere else, even though he never leaves early.
The tutoring part was your suggestion. After his eagerness to help you out with your ex, you offered to help him out in another way. Through teaching him the ups and downs of English Literature.
“You’re late,” you scold him one afternoon, but your bright smile gives you away as you look up from your notes.
“Yeah, I know,” he puts his hands up in surrender.
“Do you want to pass this class or not?” you squint, tilting your head slightly.
“Not really,” he exhales, dragging a hand through his hair.
You grin. “Too bad. You’re stuck with me.”
He looks at you for a second too long. “Unlucky,” he finally mutters.
—
You feel when something’s different. You can’t put your exact finger on it, but something between you two changes.
You start texting about deeper things, more personal things. You learn about his secret hobby of filmmaking and gaming, how he wishes to pursue it as a real job. You tell him your secrets, how you felt inferior during your relationship with George, how you wish to move all the way across the country and live a new life.
Schlatt promises to take you to the East Coast himself. You take it as a joke.
He lets you in on small parts of his day. Texting a photo of a bunny on campus, sharing a new movie he watched that he thinks you’ll enjoy. You respond eagerly without questioning it, without stopping to ask yourself when the act started to fade and everything started to feel real.
What drives you even more crazy is how he acts around you in real life.
Your tutoring sessions end, your books are packed away, and the conversation that could end as you both leave stretches just a little longer each time, until you realize he’s not in any rush to leave, that he stays seated across from you when there is no reason to, watching you as you talk about something unrelated. Slowly, he starts to let you ramble freely, not responding in sarcasm but genuine interest.
You tell yourself it doesn’t mean anything. You tell yourself this is still part of what you agreed to, even when there is no one around to see it.
But then, there are the small moments that just feel special.
The way his hand finds yours without hesitation, not in crowded rooms where eyes might be on you, but in empty hallways and late walks back to your dorm, where there’s nothing to prove and no one to convince. The way his fingers lace with yours like it’s his instinct, and when you glance at him, expecting a joke or a comment to follow, there’s nothing from him, just the same unreadable expression he always has. The way he spends all night at your dorm, studying and fooling around before leaving.
You don’t bring it up. You let it happen, because part of you doesn’t want to risk breaking whatever this is by trying to define it.
Schlatt notices too. He’s always paid attention to the little things. The way you share intimate thoughts with him, the way you look at him now. He knows there’s something brewing.
It unsettles him more than he wants to admit, because this wasn’t supposed to be anything big. This was supposed to be controlled, something he could walk away from whenever he wanted, something that existed for a small joke and nothing more. Something to piss off a semi annoying frat brother he’ll never see again after graduating.
So he reminds himself that this is fake. You are not his.
None of it sticks.
—
You’re sitting in the campus café alone for once, your laptop open in front of you with a book resting beside it. You’re completely absorbed in annotating a passage that you keep rereading to attempt to fully understand it, your pen moving quickly as you write in the margins.
You hear your name from a voice you recognize instantly, one that pulls you out of your focus completely.
You look up, and your ex is already standing there.
Your initial reaction is a firm downturn of your lips, but you smooth it over quickly, forcing your expression into a polite and composed look because you refuse to let him see anything else.
“Hey,” he says, like this is normal, like there is nothing complicated about showing up uninvited at your table. “Can I sit?”
You hesitate for a brief moment, your fingers pausing against the page, before you nod.
“Sure,” you say, closing your book slightly as he takes the seat across from you.
Across the cafe, Schlatt has already seen enough. You told him you were going there to study a bit. He was stopping by to distract you for a bit, let you have a well-deserved break cause he knew you needed it.
He notices the way your posture shifts the second your ex sits down, the way your expression becomes mellow.
From where he stands, he notices the way your ex leans forward, the way you stay seated, the way neither of you makes any move to end the conversation. He tells himself it doesn’t matter, that this is exactly what this arrangement was meant for, that you were never his to begin with, but the longer he watches, the less convincing those thoughts feel.
“I heard you’ve been… busy,” your ex hesitates, leaning back slightly as he studies you.
You glance at him, confused. “What does that mean?”
“You and Schlatt,” he shrugs. Schlatt’s name sounds strange coming from his mouth.
“What about it?” you shrug back. It’s none of his business, you think.
“The brothers tease him that he’s always over at yours. Ted said he’s been sleeping over,” he replies, his lips pursed tightly, “is that true?”
You let out a small breath, shaking your head as you close your laptop. You don’t feel like studying there anymore. “You don’t really get to have an opinion on that.”
“I’m just saying,” he trails off, his voice lower now, “you guys don’t exactly make sense.”
“We don’t have to make sense to you,” you furrow your brows.
“Is it real?” your ex asks.
You hesitate, caught off guard by the question. It isn’t. You know it isn’t, but you know you want it to be.
Your inner conflict is interrupted when your ex huffs a laugh, “That’s what I thought.”
Your brows knit together closer. “What does that mean?”
“It means Schlatt wouldn’t be with someone like you,” he says, standing up slowly, expression monotone as if he hasn’t said anything cruel. “It just didn’t make sense. To me, to his friends.”
The words pierce at you like swords, as he leaves you sitting there wounded.
You sit where you are, staring at the empty space across from you, thoughts tangled and you don’t have the energy to try to decipher them. You don’t even notice Schlatt approaching until he’s already in front of you, taking the seat your ex just left behind.
“Hey,” he says.
You look up immediately, relief flashing across your face before you can stop it. “Hi.”
“Everything good?” he asks. His tone is strained.
“Yeah,” you reassure him quickly. “Yeah, he just came out of nowhere.”
Schlatt nods once, then looks past your shoulder out the window.
“It didn’t look like nothing,” he pushes.
You frown. “It wasn’t anything.”
“You stayed,” he says, but it sounds more of a question than anything.
The comment catches you off guard. “What was I supposed to do, just tell him to leave?”
“I don’t know,” he replies, his tone sharpens. “You could’ve.”
It sounds accusatory. Like you did something wrong.
“Why are you acting like this?”
Schlatt sits there, right in front of you. He’s studying you, and you feel the weight of his gaze on you. You hold eye contact for a moment, waiting for him to say what you hope he’ll say.
You hope that he feels the same as you, that he wants this to be real.
Instead, he looks away. Your blood runs cold.
“It just didn’t look like you needed me,” he says, finally.
“What?” you squint. He’s not making any sense to you.
He waves his hands around, like the answer should be obvious. “You seemed fine.”
And you feel stupid. Schlatt’s referring to the bet. Of course, now that he’s seen you with your ex, he’s done with you. You want to explain everything to him, explain that your ex isn’t jealous, that even if he was, you only want Schlatt. You only want him.
“That’s not-” you start, but he’s already pushing his chair back.
“This was kind of the point, right?” he shrugs, his voice flat. “You don’t need me anymore.”
“That’s not true,” you say, more quickly this time. You just want him to listen.
He steps back, and you feel the distance between you two in every way possible. You get up quickly and hold his wrist, making him pause. “Just stop. Okay? I don’t want to make a scene, but will you please just stay and hear me out?”
Schlatt looks at you, at your desperate, pleading eyes. He can’t say no.
You sigh in relief as he sits back down across from you. “Thank you.” You whisper.
He doesn’t say anything at all - which unsettles you deeply, but at least it gives you a chance to explain. “Listen, I think I’ve been trying to pretend this was all just a game, like you wanted. And it’s been really hard.”
Schlatt opens his mouth to speak, but you glare, threatening him to try. He puts his hands up in surrender and lets you keep going.
“At some point, I guess,” Why was it so hard for you to just say it?
“I guess I felt like this was real. Like you and me are real.” You look down at your notebook, scared. “And I didn’t hate it,” Shrugging, your cheeks rush with heat, “in fact, I really liked it.”
You muster up the courage to look into his eyes. Schlatt looks so small in front you, his cheeks matching yours and his usually big stature seeming meek for once. “I like you. More than just friends. More than whatever this is. And I don’t care about my ex or this stupid act. I just care about you. I’d like to be with you, if you’d let me.”
You trail off, letting your confession sit. You admire how Schlatt looks, flustered and shy. It’s a side of him you’ve never seen before, and you want to cherish it forever.
“It’s not a stupid act.” He finally says. “It hasn’t been an act for me for a while now.”
Beaming, you giggle, “Really?”
“Really.”
“So,” you draw out, “are we dating now?”
He scoffs, “What, are we in middle school?”
“Oh,” you exclaim, “God forbid a girl wants some clarification."
Schlatt finally smiles back at you, “Yes, we’re dating.”
He starts to get back up, packing up your highlighters and pens into your pencil case. “Now, let’s go. Enough studying. I’m taking you out on a real date.”
song: adorn by miguel ok im not like 100% in love with this, this was supposed to be 2 parts but honestly just wanted it to be one i also envisioned lunch club schlatt while writing this but let ur imagination do ur thing idc
everyone asking me for pt 2 for lovers rock but i wasn’t planning on it… now i gotta
my schlatt work is next I PROMISE im writing the end part but im debating making a pt 2 so bare with me
lovers rock – leon kennedy
pairing: leon kennedy x reader (ft other re characters) summary: 4 times the team notices something's up with leon and the 1 time they figure it out (spoiler: he's married) genre: fluff
Claire notices the ring by accident.
They’re in the middle of a debrief. Multiple papers are spread across the table, coffee’s gone cold, and Leon is leaning back in his chair with one arm slung over the backrest, listening quietly and absorbing the information seamlessly. He isn’t speaking much, nodding occasionally, eyes flicking between whoever’s speaking.
It’s when he reaches forward to slide a document closer that the light catches on his hand.
Claire raises an eyebrow in curiosity.
A ring.
It’s a casual band, not decorated with gems. It sits on his ring finger on his left hand. The hand.
She blinks, certain she’s mistaken. Leon doesn’t wear jewelry. He never has, especially with the type of work they do.
The conversation flows around her, but she’s no longer following along. Her eyes drift back to his hand, specifically the finger, tracking the movement as he flips a page, as he gestures to a chart as he makes a point. She feels like if she rubs her eyes or looks away for too long, it’ll vanish.
It doesn’t.
By the time the meeting finishes, Claire convinced herself that she needs confirmation.
Everyone rushes out of the conference room, ready to start working. Sherry’s halfway out the door when Claire catches her wrist, tugging her back into the conference room.
“Did you see that?” Claire asks, lowering her voice. Leon’s hearing is freakishly good.
Sherry frowns. “See what?”
Claire tilts her head toward the conference room, where Leon is still inside gathering his things. “His hand.”
Sherry squints, trying to follow. “What about it?”
“There’s a ring,” Claire deadpans. “On his left hand.”
Sherry’s expression sparks with curiosity immediately. “No way.”
“I’m serious.”
They both glance back to the man in question. Leon slips his jacket on, rolling his shoulders slightly, trying to ease the tension out of them, completely unaware of the scrutiny.
Sherry leans closer to her, whispering. “Maybe it’s nothing.”
“On that finger?” Claire raises an eyebrow. “That’s not nothing.”
Sherry purses her lips together. “Okay, but if he was married, we’d know, right?”
Claire scoffs. “Would we?”
Sherry frowns a bit at that. Leon’s always been private, sure. It’s a known fact that he likes to keep things to himself. Almost to his detriment.
Still.
“Maybe the ring only fits on that finger,” Sherry suggests. “Or he doesn’t know the meaning of the finger. Or-”
“Sherry, Leon’s not that stupid.”
They look at each other, then watch as Leon finally walks up to them near the door. He gives them a nod and a small smile only reserved for those closest to him.
“Everything good?” he asks.
Claire nods automatically. “Yeah. Just… talking.”
He raises a brow. He can tell there’s something more, but he doesn’t press. He never does. Instead, he lifts a hand in a casual wave and heads down the hall, footsteps steady as they echo.
The ring glints once more before he disappears around the corner.
Claire exhales slowly, letting out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. Sherry turns to her, eyes wide. “Okay, that’s weird.”
Claire crosses her arms, still staring at the empty space where he stood. “Yeah,” she murmurs. “That’s really weird.”
–
Sherry doesn’t mean to see it either.
She’s leaving a lot later than usual, caught up in paperwork that refused to end, and by the time she finally makes her way out to the parking lot, the sky has already started to darken.
She’s halfway to her car when the low hum of an engine draws her attention.
The Porsche is hard to miss.
Leon’s leaning casually against it, one hand resting on the roof, the other tucked into his pocket. He checks his watch, then glances toward the entrance.
Sherry slows her steps without thinking, curiosity pulling her attention in that direction.
A few seconds later, someone steps out.
It’s a woman.
Sherry frowns slightly, instinctively trying to put a name to her. She doesn’t recognize her from the office, and she’s certain she would remember if she had. The woman moves towards the black car, spotting Leon immediately.
He straightens as she approaches. Sherry notes that his shoulders relax, his lips curve upward, and his attention narrows entirely onto her.
They exchange a few words that Sherry can’t hear from where she stands, but the woman smiles, bright and wide, and Leon mirrors it. Sherry hasn’t seen him smile like that in a while. Then, without hesitation, he opens the passenger door for her.
Sherry’s eyes widen even more.
She watches as the woman slips into the seat, as Leon closes the door behind her and circles around to the driver’s side, as he glances at his passenger one more time before getting in.
The engine hums again, and the Porsche pulls away with the rev of the engine.
Sherry stands there, dumbfounded, for a few seconds. She blinks, shaking herself out of it, and hurries the rest of the way to her car.
–
Chris figures out something’s off when Leon turns him down.
It isn’t the first time they’ve gone for drinks after a long day, and it certainly isn’t the first time Chris has been the one to suggest it. It’s a routine that the two found themselves performing regularly, a way to digest everything they… deal with. Plus, Chris likes that Leon and him have similar tastes in drinks and bar establishments.
So, when Chris finds himself itching for a glass of whiskey, he doesn’t think twice.
They’re walking out of the building together, the afternoon sun casting long shadows on the pavement. Chris wraps up his story of the most recent mission he went on.
“Hey,” Chris asks, glancing over. “I’m probably gonna head over to the bar and drink a glass or two. You in?”
Leon looks at him, but pauses for a second before responding. Chris has never seen him hesitate like this.
Then, Leon shakes his head. “Can’t tonight.”
Chris slows to a stop, circling around to stand in front of Leon. “You’ve got something going on?”
Leon nods, a faint smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. “Yeah. Already made plans.”
Chris just stands there and stares. Leon’s response is… unusual.
“Alright,” he says, shrugging it off. “Rain check.”
“Definitely,” Leon replies. “Next round’s on me.”
They reach the parking lot, and Chris watches as Leon veers slightly, heading toward his sleek, black Porsche parked a little further down.
Chris leans against his own car for a moment, arms crossed, as Leon unlocks the door. There’s a brief pause before Leon gets in and he’s checking something, looks like his phone at a message. Chris swears he sees a glimpse of a smile as Leon slides into the driver’s seat and pulls away.
Chris watches until the car disappears from view.
Plans, he thinks. Leon has plans.
He huffs out a small breath, shaking his head as he pushes himself off the car and reaches for his keys.
“Since when?”
–
Jill would’ve missed it if she hadn’t been paying attention.
Her and Leon stop for a coffee break in between briefings, a rare, small pocket of time. The place is small, a few blocks away from the usual rush of the main streets, and they wait silently in line, comfortable. Whenever it’s just them two, there’s not much chatter.
It’s their turn to order, and Leon, the gentleman that he is, offers to pay for her drink. When the cashier echoes their total, Leon reaches into his leather jacket for his wallet.
This catches her attention as her eyes focus on his expensive leather black wallet. Jill remembers when Sherry bought him that for his birthday. It’s worn, slightly shedding at one corner, but it’s just proof that it’s well loved. She sees his hand flip open the wallet, reaching for a couple of bills in the pocket.
That’s when she notices. There’s a photograph tucked into the clear sleeve.
It catches her attention before she can stop herself.
Leon doesn’t seem to notice. Like it’s always been there. He pulls out the cash, hands it over, thanks the barista, all with the politeness he always has. The wallet stays open long enough for Jill to see the photo.
A woman.
She’s close to him in the picture, leaning into his side. Leon’s arm is around her shoulders, a curve of his smile. The photo is domestic and warm, she feels like she’s intruding an intimate moment by just looking at it.
Jill looks away before he can catch her staring, but the warm feeling from the photo stays.
The baristas call their names and hand over their cups. The warmth radiates through the cardboard sleeve. As they step outside, a breeze goes by, making her shiver at the difference in temperature.
“Since when do you carry photos?” she asks.
Leon pauses mid-step, glancing at her. They both know what she’s referring to. “Since a while ago.”
Jill tilts her head slightly. “You’ve been holding out on us.”
He huffs a soft laugh, shaking his head. “It’s nothing like that.”
Jill puts her arms up in fake surrender. She doesn’t push further even though curiosity pulls at her. She knows that in this line of work, there are just some things you want to protect. Keep to yourself.
As they part ways, she finds herself glancing back at him.
Leon slips his wallet back into his jacket, the photograph hidden once more.
–
Grace decides she’s had enough.
By the time everyone’s all in the same room again, the pieces started to come together. Claire and Sherry are big gossips, talking about Leon’s mysterious woman, and Grace, being the FBI agent she is, needs to come to a conclusion. Now.
Leon, for his part, is completely at ease.
He’s seated at the table, flipping through a file, either unaware or unconcerned with the glances everyone’s been giving him.
Grace leans back in her chair, arms crossed, studying him.
“So,” she coughs, cutting through the low hum of conversation. “Leon, are you seeing anyone?”
The room hushes immediately. Claire and Sherry’s mouths open wide in shock, Chris hides a smirk under his hand, and Jill simply looks up from the paper in her hand.
Leon looks up, blinking once, caught off guard by the directness. He closes the file, setting it aside on the table.
“Yeah,” he admits.
Claire leans forward. “Yeah?”
Sherry’s eyes are practically sparkling with anticipation. Chris watches with an even bigger smirk, and Jill remains still, observant.
Grace raises an eyebrow. “You want to elaborate on that?”
“I didn’t think it was that big of a deal,” he shrugs.
“It’s a huge deal,” Claire argues. “You’ve been acting weird for weeks.”
“Weeks?” Chris repeats. “Try months.”
Sherry points at him. “You have a ring.”
Jill adds, “And a photo.”
Grace nods. “And apparently a whole secret life that we don’t know about.”
Leon glances between all of them, realizing very quickly that there’s no easy way out of this.
“…I’m married.”
For a second, no one reacts. Leon sees all of the wheels in their heads turning, digesting what he just said. He can physically see the lightbulbs in their heads go off.
“You’re what?” Claire blurts out.
“Since when?” Chris demands.
“Married?” Sherry echoes, incredulous.
Jill just shakes her head, a small, disbelieving smile tugging at her lips.
Grace leans forward. “You’re telling me you got married and didn’t tell anyone?”
Leon raises his hands slightly, as if to calm the sudden wave of reactions. “It wasn’t exactly planned.”
“That doesn’t make it better,” Claire says. “It actually kinda makes it worse.”
“We would have come,” Sherry trails off, sounding a little offended. “You didn’t even give us the chance.”
Chris crosses his arms. “You kept this from all of us?”
Leon hesitates, searching for the right words. Everyone in this very room is the closest thing he has to a family.
“We… were in a rush.” he finally answers. “It happened before I left for Wrenwood. There wasn’t time for anything big, and we probably didn’t want anything big anyway.”
Grace studies him. “So you just decided to get married in secret.”
“I thought I was dying, okay?” Leon defends himself. “I just wanted to marry her.”
Claire exhales sharply, running a hand through her hair. “Unbelievable.”
Sherry shakes her head, though there’s a small smile starting to form. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell us.”
Chris lets out a low sigh. “You owe us a long explanation.”
“And an introduction.” Jill leans back slightly, arms crossing.
“Of course,” Leon shrugs. “I figured that was coming.”
Grace smiles widely. “So when do we meet her?”
“Soon.” His expression turns soft, thinking about his wife at that very moment. Everyone in the room can’t help but smile at the sight.
And this time, no one misses the way his hand lays on top of the table, the ring catching the light, shining bright.
EDIT: part 2 here! like this is my FAMILIA yall i love them so bad i kinda had a hard time deciding the title of this actually... may change at some point iDK
eventually – leon kennedy
pairing: leon kennedy x reader summary: after being cured, leon is left with his regrets of breaking up with you, until he sees you at a bar pt 1: i know the end genre: angst / fluff (?)
The cure worked. At least that is what the doctors and scientists told Leon.
The veins are gone. The black cracks that once spread beneath his skin have faded completely, leaving nothing behind. His bloodwork is stable. The infection that haunted him since Raccoon City finally loosened its grip on him. His past let go of its grip on him.
And so, everyone celebrates.
Sherry cried the minute he returned back home, relief shaking through her shoulders as she hugged him too tight. As promised, Leon personally gave her dose to her, hand delivered. Chris sent a voicemail saying sorry he was late and something about buying the first round when Leon is cleared for leave.
Claire and Jill both reached out about their own doses. He texted back that he’ll see them soon. Other random people he doesn’t care about all tried to speak to him about the mission, asking a million questions as if they could even survive a second of the nightmare he went through.
Leon shakes their hands, nods when they congratulate him, pretends the weight in his chest is not still there.
Because now that he survived, living with what he chose is the part that hurts.
He hasn’t stepped foot inside your apartment since the night he left. The extra key you gave him still sits on the small hook by his front door where he always hung it when he came home from missions, but the thought of going over and seeing your face makes his heart tighten painfully within his ribs.
He imagines his mug of tea sitting on the counter long after he walked out. He imagines the smell of vanilla fading into the cold air.
His nightmares have been leaving him to suffer ever since he’s been back. These aren’t about the horrors of Raccoon City, no, they’re of you. Some nights, the memory of you and what you both had keeps him awake until morning.
A month passes before Leon finally walks into a bar again.
The dive bar sits on a corner a few blocks from his barren apartment, its windows glowing warm against the dark street. Music echoes mumbled through the walls, loud conversation spilling out each time the door opens.
Leon almost turns around before stepping inside.
The smell is what hits him first. Alcohol, cigarette smoke clinging to jackets, the faint sweetness of spilled liquor soaked on the floor. The memories he has with you here flash by. Images of you sitting at the bar, with a way too sweet mixed drink. Flashing your pretty eyes up at him. Smiling like he had the whole world in his hands.
He moves to the counter and orders a whiskey. The bartender slides the glass toward him, and Leon drinks half of it in one swallow. The burn settles into his chest in a way that feels like relief.
He tells himself he’s only here for a drink. One drink, maybe two, just long enough to stop thinking about his too quiet apartment and unanswered messages and the way your voice sounded the last time you asked him to stay.
He stares down into the amber liquid for a long moment before lifting the glass again.
Then he sees you.
You sit at a small table near the back of the room, the bar lighting catching in your hair the same way the kitchen light used to catch it back at your apartment.
For a moment, his brain refuses to process what he is looking at.
You look the same.
The same way you used to sit curled into the corner of the couch with a blanket around your shoulders. The same patient, gentle expression you wore when you listened to him talk about missions he could barely explain.
Except now, you’re laughing.
And there’s a man sitting across from you.
He leans forward when you speak, smiling at something you say while your hands move gently in the air as you tell the story.
Your smile spreads wide across your face. Wider than Leon has seen it in months.
The sight hits him harder than any punch he has ever taken. Any gunshot he’s suffered.
Of course, you moved on.
A month isn’t a long time for most, though it must have felt like forever after the way he left you standing in that apartment with nothing but apologies and the promise that you should forget him.
Leon grips his glass a little tighter.
He watches the way the man across from you laughs again at something you say, the easiness in the moment between you.
You look happy. This realization settles into his chest with an uneasy, terrible feeling.
He finishes the rest of his whiskey and stands up. Leon thinks he’s had enough of his adventure outside. He fishes out his leather wallet, covers his tab and tip.
Leon steps outside into the cold night air and fumbles a cigarette out of the pack in his pocket. Chris got him into this habit. The lighter flickers twice before the flame finally catches, the glow illuminating the tired lines across his face.
He takes a slow drag and leans against the brick wall beside the bar. Shit, he laughs bitterly.
For the first time in weeks, his mind stops racing long enough for the silence to settle in. He exhales the smoke, creating a small cloud around him.
Maybe this is how it was supposed to end. You smiling across a table from someone who can actually stay.
The bar door creaks open behind him. Footsteps approach across the pavement. He doesn’t even bother to look up. Doesn’t care enough to.
A voice speaks beside him.
“Care to share?”
Leon almost says no without looking, the word sits ready on his tongue, sharp and automatic, because the last thing he wants right now is conversation with a stranger.
But there’s something familiar about that voice, so he turns his head anyway.
The cigarette nearly slips from his fingers.
You stand there, your eyes meet his in the dim light from the overhead lights.
The bitter smile that spreads slowly across your face is fragile, and that makes Leon’s chest ache.
“I thought you died,” you joke, but the words are a little too real to laugh at.
Leon stares at you for a long moment, the smoke from his cigarette curling upward between you like a thin veil.
“I’m sorry,” he says. He means it.
Your expression shifts slightly at the sound of his voice, the anger in your eyes wavering for a moment before settling back into something guarded.
“This is a very funny way to let someone know you’re alive,” you reply, drily laughing.
He rubs the back of his neck, the familiar nervous gesture returning before he can stop it.
“I didn’t know if I was coming back.”
“But you did.”
“Yeah.”
Silence settles between you.
Leon gestures, nodding his head toward the bar door behind you. “The guy inside,” he says quietly. “You seemed happy.”
You follow his gaze before looking back at him again. A small laugh escapes your throat, though there is no humor in it. “That’s my cousin.”
Leon blinks.
“He just moved to the city.”
The cigarette in Leon’s hand burns down to the filter while the realization spreads slowly through his chest. He reaches for another one. Lights it. He hands it over to you.
You take the offer, take a big inhale from it. You cross your arms, hugging yourself, and lean against the wall beside him.
“I heard about the cure,” you speak after a moment. You hand it back to him.
He looks at you again. “How?”
“Sherry called me.”
Of course she did.
“And you’re here, alive. She told me the veins disappeared,” you continue. “That the virus is gone.”
Leon nods.
“I thought you died,” you repeat.
He studies the ground for a moment, looking at the cracks and erosion of the pavement, before answering.
“I thought leaving you was the only way to protect you.”
“Did it work?”
The question carries no anger, just sadness which hurts worse than if you had yelled at him.
Leon exhales slowly. “No.”
You stand there together in the cold night air, the silence between you no longer sharp enough to cut.
After a beat, you nudge his arm lightly with your elbow. “You’re terrible at breakups, you know that?”
A faint laugh escapes him before he can stop it. “Yeah.”
You tilt your head slightly, studying him the same way you used to before he left for missions. “You look miserable.”
“I missed you.” The honesty slips out before he has time to reconsider it, and the two of you simply look at each other. “No, I miss you.”
Then, you step forward and wrap your arms around him.
Leon freezes in surprise before his arms close around you automatically, pulling you closer against his chest while the familiar warmth of you settles into a place inside him that has felt empty for weeks.
Your voice comes muffled against his jacket. “You’re such an idiot.”
“I know.”
“You scared the hell out of me.”
“I’m sorry.”
You pull back just enough to look up at him.
“Next time you think about breaking up with me to save my feelings,” you whisper, “maybe try asking what I want first.”
Leon nods slowly. “I will.”
You study his face one more time before smiling brightly. Like how you smiled inside the bar.
“Good.”
The cigarette burns out in his hand while the city buzzes around you, and for the first time since he walked out of that apartment a month ago, Leon feels like maybe he finally came home.
andddd here's pt2!!! leon when he self sabotages... tag: @ordelixx
WITH THIS TREASURE I SUMMON HONEY TO COME BACK AND PLEASE FEED US DEPRIVED ISAACWHY LOVERS WITH A FIC!!!
[🍓 ANON!!]
this is from 2025. and ive had this ask in my head since then.
🍓anon my most recent post is dedicated to you. thank you for your patience 😭😭😭❤️
link
it's a match! – isaacwhy
pairing: isaacwhy x reader summary: after breaking up with your ex, you're ready to get out there with the help of a dating app & match with an online content creator. genre: fluff
You sit cross-legged on the couch with a glass of cheap red wine balanced in your hand, clicking through shows and movies on the TV.
Your roommate left an hour ago, high heels clicking down the hallway while she checked her reflection in her phone camera. She smiled at you from the doorway.
“Don’t wait up,” she said. “And try not to spiral tonight.”
You laughed then, and you waved her off dramatically while she disappeared down the hallway.
The breakup happened three weeks ago. Long enough that everyone assumes you are fine. Long enough that you should be fine.
The TV plays some random Netflix reality show you’re not actually watching. The light from the screen reflects across the glass coffee table, and the empty side of the couch where your ex used to sit when he stayed over feels huge without him on it.
Your ex still appears in your life in small ways. A song that plays at the grocery store that reminds you of your playlist with him. Sweatshirts and pants you keep meaning to throw out. The extra toothbrush that’s still there in the cup next to yours.
You take another slow sip of wine and stare at your phone.
Everyone says the solution is getting back out there. Dating apps. Meeting new people.
Your thumb hovers for a second before opening the app store. The “Get” button next to the Tinder app glows bright on the screen while you swirl the wine in your glass.
An embarrassingly long time later, your profile exists. You spent too long to even acknowledge on choosing the right pictures, writing the right answers to prompts. But by the end, you’re pleased with the way your Tinder persona looks.
You take another sip and start swiping.
A guy whose all five photos are him holding different fish.
Left.
A guy with only group photos.
Left.
A guy whose bio says “Looking for some short term fun ;)”
You laugh and swipe left again. It’s fun, the way you can judge these men and get a laugh or two out of it.
You’re halfway through your second glass of wine when a profile appears that makes you pause.
His name reads Isaac, 25.
The first picture shows him standing outside somewhere sunny. Tall frame, broad shoulders filling out a black T-shirt, brown hair falling over his forehead. His smile looks relaxed, the big and wide kind that reaches his eyes. He's cute.
You tap. The second photo is him with a white wife beater, a black face mask and black sunglasses on. You raise a brow at the fact that he’s faceless in this one, but you assume it’s probably a photo from the Covid days. You don’t think too hard as you look at how his arms are huge as he crosses them. Huge.
The third, lord, the third photo is a mirror selfie of just his body at the gym. Your jaw drops a bit at the sight.
You keep tapping through his photos, seeing images of him with friends and a cute photo with him and a silly looking cat. He’s handsome, strong, and tall. He’s everything you want.
You scroll to his bio.
6'3.
white claw surge connoisseur
my mom calls me handsome
You snort into your wine. The concept of a guy who looks like this loving a White Claw surge? You’re intrigued.
Swipe right.
The screen flashes. It’s a match!
Your stomach flips. You stare at the chat screen for a second, wondering if you should message first.
Your fingers move before you can overthink it.
You: what are your mom's professional credentials for proving that you're handsome?
Three minutes pass before the typing bubble appears.
Isaac: she’s known me my whole life so i trust her opinion
You smile.
You: this sounds extremely biased
Isaac: wow, attacking my mother already?
You: im just questioning her objectivity
Isaac: she will be absolutely devastated
You lean back against the couch cushion while typing your reply.
You: so how many white claw surges does it take to become a connoisseur
Isaac: enough that the cashier at the gas station recognizes you
You: admirable dedication
Isaac: thank you, i work hard
A few seconds pass as you think of ways to keep the conversation going.
Isaac: what are you doing tonight
You scoff and narrow your eyes. Can't have anything, you think as you pray he's not just some guy looking for quick action. The minute he tries anything with you, you’ll unmatch immediately. You reply anyways, hoping he’ll prove you wrong.
You: drinking wine and pretending that im having a productive sunday night
Isaac: sounds classy if i do say so myself
You: agreed
You: my roommate went on a date so im stuck here alone
Isaac: tragic situation
You: what about you?
The typing bubble appears again.
Isaac: editing a video and avoiding responsibilities
You: ooo what kind of video?
Isaac: dumb internet content
You: that feels like a very vague description… do you do OF bychance
You giggle at your own joke, though he does look like he’d do very well on that platform.
Isaac: haha no not that low on funds just yet, maybe later down the line
Isaac: i make videos on youtube and people watch them somehow
You tilt your head while reading the message.
You: like an influencer? almost?
A moment passes before his reply appears.
Isaac: kind of?
You: mysterious
Isaac: i prefer the word enigmatic
You laugh while continuing the conversation.
You: well i work a very boring corporate job so your life already sounds more interesting than mine
Isaac: what do you do?
You: corporate analyst which means i stare at spreadsheets and attend meetings that definitely could have been emails
Isaac: that sounds painful
You: it funds my wine habit
The conversation keeps going.
You talk about moving to Texas and how you’re not used to how the heat refuses to leave even when summer ends. He relates to you as he tells you about living in Pennsylvania and spending most of his time indoors recording videos with friends before moving south.
You spend the rest of the night chatting with people on Tinder. Out of the handful of matches, though, speaking with Isaac is your favorite. He’s funny, knows how to keep the conversation alive, and seems actually interested in getting to know you.
Isaac: i like talking to you :)
You stare at the message for a moment before replying.
You: thanks, i like talkin to you too :)
Isaac: we should keep talking, wanna give me your number?
You: i would like that very much
And so, you give him your number. You wait anxiously for him to text. Your phone buzzes.
He sent a selfie from his desk where he wears a headset slightly crooked on his head while messy brown hair falls into his eyes.
Your heart does a strange little flip when you see it.
You: what happened to… hello? how are you?
Isaac: hi how are you
You: bruh
Isaac: bruh
Isaac: look at us using real phone numbers now
You: yeah, you’re stuck with me now basically
Isaac: sounds good with me
You keep chatting, but as your fingers tap quickly across your phone screen, you let out a big yawn. You realize you’ve been texting for hours with Isaac.
You: it’s getting late, but talk to you tomorrow?
Isaac: of course! good night, sweet dreams :)
You smiled softly before you hearted the message and put down the phone.
The next morning, you wake up expecting the conversation to fade the way most dating app matches do. Instead, your phone buzzes while you’re making coffee.
Isaac: good morning corporate employee
You laugh while typing back. The conversation continues through the day.
Messages appear during your lunch break. They appear during long meetings when you discreetly glance down at your phone under the conference table.
Your roommate notices immediately.
One evening, she walks into the living room while you sit on the couch staring down at your phone with an obvious smile spreading across your face.
She drops her purse on the table.
“You have been glued to that phone for days,” she says suspiciously.
You look up like a kid getting caught stealing cookies from the jar. “It is not that serious,” you reply.
“Who is it?”
“It is just a guy.”
Her eyes widen as she drops onto the couch beside you.
“A guy,” she repeats dramatically. “Show. Now.”
You pull up Isaac’s profile before quickly pulling the phone back. She studies the photos for a second before grinning.
“He is hot.”
“Stop.” You whine, but the heat rising to your cheeks gives it all away.
“You're smiling at your phone like a middle schooler.”
Right on cue, your phone buzzes again.
Her grin grows wider.
“Oh my god, you like him.” She teases you, getting back up from the couch.
“Shut up.” You throw a couch cushion at her as she tries to avoid it. You grin to yourself though, knowing that she was onto something.
Later that night, you lie in bed scrolling through your messages with Isaac.
You hesitate before typing.
You: random question
His reply comes almost instantly.
Isaac: those are dangerous
You roll your eyes.
You: would you want to call?
A few minutes pass. You feel a little stupid for asking. Maybe it was too soon?
But then, your phone rings. Your heart jumps as you answer.
“Hello?”
His voice fills your ear and you immediately sit up slightly in bed. His voice sounds warm and relaxed with a hint of amusement woven through it.
“Hi.” You smile into the darkness of your room. “You sound exactly how I imagined.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah.”
You pull your blanket closer around your shoulders.
“What did you imagine?” he asks.
“I don’t know,” you blush, knowing you don’t know how to really explain it without sounding weird.
The conversation flows easily from there, as always.
You talk about your boring office job and the endless spreadsheets that fill your weekdays. He tells you stories about recording videos with friends and staying up late editing.
You laugh at his chaotic stories about failed recordings and ridiculous moments that end up in videos.
Eventually you glance at the clock beside your bed.
12:23 AM.
“You should probably sleep,” he says.
“You first.”
“That would be difficult.”
“Why?”
“Because, I really enjoy talking to you.”
Your face grows warm as you sink deeper into your pillow.
“You're smooth.”
“I try.”
The conversation slows down as the night stretches longer. Your voice grows heavier as sleep creeps in while his voice continues drifting through the phone speaker.
Eventually, the pauses between sentences grow longer. At some point, you just hear him say random words, not hearing the whole sentences.
“Are you still awake?” he asks quietly.
Your soft snores answer his question for him.
On the other end of the call, Isaac lets out a small laugh.
“Yeah… that answers that,” he murmurs.
He lowers his phone onto his desk but doesn’t hang up. Your breathing continues through the speaker, soft and uneven, acting as background noise for him. He leans back in his chair for a moment, listening to it.
Somewhere in the same exact state as him, you’re curled up under your blankets with your phone resting beside your pillow, completely unaware that a stranger you met on a dating app is smiling like an idiot at his computer screen.
Isaac glances at the mess of an editing timeline on his monitor. The video still needs a few cuts and captions before it is finished, so he drags the clip bar back and presses play. The room fills with the sound of chaotic voices from the recording while he works.
Every once in a while, he glances down at his phone.
He hears you shift slightly in your sleep. The blanket rustles and your breathing changes for a moment before settling again.
“Corporate employee knocked the fuck out,” he mutters under his breath.
An hour passes while he edits. Maybe two. The call timer continues counting upward in the corner of his screen.
Eventually, he finishes the video and leans back in his chair, stretching his arms above his head. His room is dim now except for the glow of the monitors. Outside his window, the sky is dark with only the stars illuminating bright.
Your breathing still drifts through the speaker.
He picks up the phone again.
“Hey,” he whispers, knowing you cannot hear him. “You’re gonna wake up tomorrow and be very confused about why we were on the phone for five hours.”
You shift again in your sleep, mumbling something completely unintelligible.
He laughs. “Yeah, that too.”
Isaac hesitates for a moment before lowering his voice, soft and tender.
“Goodnight. Sweet dreams.”
He finally ends the call and places the phone on his desk before shutting off his monitor. He heads to bed himself.
A few miles away, you remain fast asleep with your phone still beside your pillow.
Morning sunlight slips through the blinds and lands across your face. You groan softly and bury your head deeper into the pillow before reaching for your phone out of habit.
Your screen lights up. Recognizing your face, your phone opens to the phone app. Seeing the call log makes your eyes widen.
Call duration: 5 hours 48 minutes.
You sit up in bed, hair messy and blanket falling into your lap as you stare at the screen.
“Five hours?” you whisper. “Five fucking hours?!?”
You open your chat with Isaac, contemplating what the hell to even say. “Sorry, I fell asleep on the phone with you,” “Sorry, that was really intimate,” “Sorry, your voice is so soothing and calms me down, I literally passed out.” You groan as you run your hands across your face.
Your phone buzzes again almost immediately. A new message appears. It’s like he can read your mind.
Isaac: good morning overworked corporate employee
You laugh, rubbing sleep from your eyes.
You: did we really fall asleep on the phone
Three dots appear instantly.
Isaac: yes
Isaac: you also started snoring
You gasp.
You: i do NOT snore
Isaac: i have evidence
You groan and flop backward onto your pillow, pressing your phone against your forehead.
You: this is so embarrassing
Isaac: dont worry it was cute
Your heart does that strange little flip again. You stare at the message for a moment before typing back.
You: you’re lucky i like talking to you
His reply appears almost immediately.
Isaac: good
Isaac: because, like i said before, i like talking to you too
You sit there for a second, sunlight filling the room while the city slowly wakes around you.
Three weeks ago, you felt like your world had shrunk after the breakup. Now, you’re smiling at your phone before you have even gotten out of bed.
You: hey, you free this week?
Isaac: anything for you
HELLOOOO ISAACWHY LOVER IS BACKKKK sorry for the kind of abrupt ending? i didnt want to do a repeat of a first date AU (since i already have one... here... check it out... :P) but omg i missed writing for isaac... he's everything hope you enjoyed!