This masterlist is full of all kinds of different characters I have written for, and more will be added in the future.
Do not translate, post, or put my content into any AI tools.
You can all call me Midnight. I'm a medical assistant working in orthopaedics, so I may take a while to reply, but I'm always happy to receive requests, comments and questions.
English isn't my first language, it's my third language, so if I make any grammatical errors, it's because of that.
I try to mostly make the reader gender-neutral, and I avoid going into specifics about the character's appearance. I want everyone to feel included, so I try not to describe the reader's appearance.
There are certain things that I won't write about because they make me uncomfortable.
- Age-gap relationships (certain age gaps are fine, but I might not accept all requests).
- Anything involving CNC, cheating or abusive relationships.
- I won't write about underage characters unless it's platonic.
I might add more things to this list if I ever receive a request that makes me uncomfortable.
Simon Ghost Riley
Series:
Running away / Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6
Summary: You leave Gotham behind, abandoning journalism to escape your past and start over in Blüdhaven. However, in a city just as dark and corrupt, you struggle to stay out of the spotlight as old instincts and new dangers draw you back into the life you tried to leave behind.
a/n: I hope you guys will like the prologue
Masterlist
"Can't believe it. You're actually leaving"
It was the first sentence that left your friend's mouth as you were driving your car through the streets at night. The windows were rolled down as the wind hit your face.
It's true, you are leaving.
But it's been long enough. You've stayed for far too long already, even though you never wanted to stay in the first place. But growing up and finding your own path simply took time.
"Thought I was lying?" You asked, your tone playful. It wasn't really a question - it was a challenge. One that invited her to tell the truth, which she usually did whenever she wasn't too busy wrapping a lie wrapped in silk and calling it honesty.
A soft, raspy chuckle was heard through the phone, making the corners of your mouth curl up. It's been a while since you had last seen or even heard her, only leaving each other text messages as life started pulling the both of you away from each other. Or at least tried to.
"You can't blame me for thinking otherwise." Voices and footsteps could be heard through the phone call - people shouting, someone barking directions. You knew that chaos all too well. Her crew had always been energetic, especially before the show even started. "Wouldn't have thought that the old man would just let you leave the city."
Yes, the old man who happened to be your uncle and was more than passionate about his job. "He can't just keep me here forever." A sigh escaped your lips as your eyes remained focused onto the road ahead of you.
It was cold during the night, especially with the windows rolled down, but somehow it soothed a part deep within you. A part you had been trying to calm down for a couple of hours now, but nothing had helped.
"And he shouldn't." Her voice was confident, determined even, but that's how she had always been. For you, she was like a bright, shining star among the night sky. None matched hers as she stood out just like she did on stage. "You're a grown woman, and you get to decide your story, but I'm still mad at you."
"I didn't even do anything!" You scoffed, but your expression was soft, knowing that she was just being dramatic.
"Oh yeah? You sure bout that?" At that, you hummed while nodding your head, even though she couldn't see it as the phone was laying on the seat next to you.
"You could've just joined me on stage again!" Immediately, you started rolling your eyes while the smile on your face remained in it's place. She was a ridiculous woman, sometimes.
"Yeah, and almost break my neck again." The sentence came out a bit blunt, but you couldn't care less as she immediately responded with, "Oh, don't be so dramatic. You only sprained a wrist and twisted your ankle a bit."
"I was also wearing a neck brace for months, Zee."
Zee, or better known as Zatanna Zatara. The best magician you've ever seen and also the only magician you've ever gotten to know, but that's besides the point.
She knows how to do her job very well, but when a performance goes wrong and you get forced to be on stage with none other than Arnie, then it was just bound to end bad.
You don't blame the blonde male for trying his best, but that truly was one of the worst night's you got to experience. "But you looked pretty cute with the neck brace on."
She was lying.
"You told me I looked like a dog, and last time I checked, I don't think that's a compliment."
"Wrong! I called you a puppy." You could practically hear that Zatanna was grinning from ear to ear. Her perfect pearly whites out as the dark magenta probably made them look even whiter than usual.
"That makes it so much better, Zee. Thanks."
She is a great friend, even though the two of you would always find a way to tease each other about something.
It had all started with you meeting Andre while the whole crew was on tour. The tall black male who just happened to pull you into a life full of adventure for a couple of months, during which you had been trying to find a new story.
Something to grasp, something that would make the readers stand up from the couch and hang off of every single word you published.
And Andre was the start of it all.
Just one good conversation and suddenly you ended up backstage a couple of days later, watching everyone run in all kinds of directions, either fixing lights or putting the stage setups tightly into place.
You remembered the day well. It was pure chaos as everyone was complaining about the fact that the Magician was still not there, with only two minutes left until the performance needed to start. Then, in the blink of an eye later, she appeared.
You still can't wrap your head around how she did it, and whenever you asked, she'd just tell you that a magician never reveals their secrets.
"How much longer?" The question immediately pulled you out of your daydreaming, making your curse internally as you had even forgotten that she was still on the phone.
"Should only be a couple of minutes, but there was traffic in Gotham, which made me a bit late."
Gotham City.
A massive metropolis with dramatic skylines, stupidly wealthy districts and huge mansions that a person could only dream about. People expected you to be obsessed with all the wealthy districts, but you started to resend them after some time.
The rich didn't care. They had everything they needed, and whatever happened beyond the walls of their estates simply didn't matter. Everything was better with money because that's all you need.
Friends and family? They didn't matter because money buys you the happiness you need, and you knew that better than anyone. You had seen it and experienced it yourself.
"Just don't fall asleep while driving, Pennyworth," she called out to you as you huffed and replied with "I can barely even sleep in a bed, Zee."
Pennyworth.
A surname you've broken your head over more times than you can even begin to count. Trustworthy, loyal, meticulous, selfless and perfect. That's what everyone thought of the Pennyworth family.
But none of it is as it seems.
Because with perfection comes sacrifice. Alfred Pennyworth knows that better than anyone else, but you did too.
You experienced it all.
The care, the love, the worry, but also the negligence and strictness that ruined it all. It didn't matter what he did good, when all of it was just for Bruce.
Your uncle, Alfred, had been taking care of you for years now, and you were grateful for everything he did for you, but none of it takes away the negligence you faced.
"Are you okay, canım?" Zatanna's voice was laced with worry, which she tried to hide, but you heard through it, you always did.
Zatanna was an like an open book once you got to know her. You could see through her, but some things were just meant to stay in the author's mind. It was easy to tell when she was worried, her face and voice always betraying her, but the perfect lies she'd tell you shielded every truth because within magic there is always a lie.
"I'm alright." You couldn't help the hoarsness of your voice as it seeped through your sentence, and nonetheless you continued "Still calling me 'canım'?"
She let out a laugh under her breath. "Yes, and I'll continue calling you that." It always bewildered you how Zatanna was fine with calling you that.
It should only be reserved for her mother to call her that. From what she had told you, Sindella used it as a nickname. A rough translation for it would be something like 'my soul' or 'my beloved.' Such a short word with such intimate and warm meaning just didn't deserve to belong to you. Especially not out of Zatanna's lips.
The darkness of the night made the light from your phone's display stand out as you started driving slower and picked up the phone to quickly glance at the message.
Uncle
Stay safe in Blüdhaven, my dear.
You immediately threw the phone back into the passenger seat as your right hand left the steering wheel to softly press against your temples while your eyes focused on the sign above.
Summary: You leave Gotham behind, abandoning journalism to escape your past and start over in Blüdhaven. However, in a city just as dark and corrupt, you struggle to stay out of the spotlight as old instincts and new dangers draw you back into the life you tried to leave behind.
a/n: I tried really hard not to write a series, but I couldn't stop myself. This series will contain all kinds of things, so be prepared. There will be lot's of DC characters, as well as some original ones. I've been inspired by the Nightwing comic "On with the Show" by Dan Watters, so we'll most likely follow that story. I've also been inspired by the Zatanna comic written by Jamal Campbell, so there will be characters from that comic too. I hope that some of you guys will take a liking to this series.
Summary: Zayne wasn't familiar with the word 'jealousy'.
a/n: Tbh, this one-shot was supposed to be completely different. Now, Zayne just looks jealous and a bit pathetic. This was actually intended to be a female reader, but I always end up making it gender-neutral, so I hope you all will like it.
"The patients have been praising you so much!"
The silence of the hall was immediately filled with a loud voice, one of the new apprentices at the hospital, which Zayne usually wouldn't notice due to the stressful environment.
But she was there whenever you were around. It only made sense for Zayne to remember the young woman when she was practically attached to your side. Her short hair was always decorated with tiny clips, the bright colours drawing even more attention against her pale skin and hazel eyes that revealed every thought she had before she even spoke. An open book. That's what she was.
"Oh, you're just flattering me."
He could recognise that calm and sultry voice from anywhere.
It was ingrained into him at this point. Even when you weren't around, he'd replay your words in his head until he could remember every inflection, every pause, every soft laugh that escaped you.
Sure, it sounded obsessive.
It was obsessive.
But sometimes he couldn't help but wonder if you knew exactly what you were doing to him.
Whenever you two talked, your eyes were only focused on his. Your voice would settle over his frayed nerves like a sedative, soothing a body and mind that had long since forgotten what rest felt like.
Calm. A little deeper than expected. Reassuring.
And then there was the way you'd end your sentences - soft, almost intimate without meaning to be. He'd replay those moments over and over again, like a broken record he was incapable of turning off because some pathetic part of him always wanted to hear you one more time.
"No, it's true!" The young woman held your arm tightly in hers, looking up at you with almost shining eyes as he continued to watch from his office.
This time he had kept the door open because he was supposed to be entering patient records into the computer, but it was also convenient because your office was directly across from his.
He'd learned not to stare when you were around.
Or rather, he'd learned to pretend he wasn't staring.
He'd glance away every time he thought you might notice, afraid you'd catch him looking. Afraid you'd realise just how often he watched you. But even more afraid of the ugly, possessive feeling that had started taking root in his chest.
He hated it.
He hated the fact that he couldn't stop looking. He hated the way you made him react. He hated that every day he walked into Akso Hospital hoping, against all reason, that you'd look at him first.
It was driving him insane.
Zayne was stoic. Composed. Strict.
At least, he used to be.
Ever since you started working at the Akso Hospital, he'd noticed himself changing in ways he couldn't control. And the worst part was that you weren't even treating him differently.
Your kindness was universal.
You had always been like this.
The smile. The way your eyes lit up when someone spoke to you. The soft, reassuring touches you'd give whenever someone was upset. Even the fact that you'd made sure to remember every face, every name, every insignificant detail about the people around you.
It was more than enough for Zayne to understand that he wasn't special.
And yet.
The moments where you'd take his hand into yours, brushing your thumb against his knuckles while keeping eye contact and telling him to go home early because his eyes were red from exhaustion and the dark circles beneath them were getting worse.
He remembered those moments far too well.
He remembered the warmth of your hands.
He remembered the exact expression on your face.
He remembered going home and replaying those few seconds over and over again until he could almost convince himself you'd meant something more.
You made him feel as though he was the only person in the room.
And then he'd watch you do the exact same thing to someone else.
Something would twist inside him every single time.
Especially when you were around others, smiling at them, touching their shoulders, remembering their favourite drinks and snacks, showering them with the same attention he'd secretly begun craving like a starving man.
He wanted it.
He wanted all of it.
And he hated himself for it.
But Zayne was prideful.
He'd never show it outright.
Still, he noticed the way his gaze would linger too long on someone standing beside you. The way his tone became sharper. The way his replies turned colder, more cutting, whenever he felt like someone else occupied too much of your attention.
Thankfully, nobody noticed.
They assumed it was simply how he behaved.
Only he knew that every clipped response, every glare, every unnecessary criticism came from the ugly feeling sitting in his chest whenever you smiled at someone that wasn't him.
He especially hated the way he felt last week.
Just as he was about to go home, he'd seen a beautiful, tall black woman walking up to you.
Her curves and the confidence in her stride were enough to make him look away under normal circumstances.
But then she'd wrapped her arms around your waist.
Pulled you close.
Pressed a kiss against your cheek.
And Zayne had stopped breathing.
The way you smiled at her.
The way your arms slipped around her neck so naturally.
The way you looked happy.
Something inside him had collapsed so violently that he'd immediately looked away and walked straight to his car before either of you could notice him.
Of course you already had a girlfriend.
Of course you wouldn't be interested in men.
So Zayne had done the only thing he knew how to do.
He avoided you.
For three weeks, he'd done everything possible to keep his distance. He'd only nod in greeting before practically fleeing down the hallways.
Because if he stayed too long.
If he looked at you too long.
He was afraid you'd notice the desperation written all over his face.
And now he was sitting in his office.
Pathetically staring at you from a distance.
"I have to put this document back into my office," you said while gesturing toward the young woman. "How about you go to the cafeteria? I'll meet you there once I'm done."
The apprentice immediately nodded, a large grin spreading across her face before she walked away.
The black-haired man sighed heavily. His glasses slipped slightly down the bridge of his nose as he pressed his fingers against his temples.
He looked down at the computer screen.
A single sentence.
That was all he'd managed to type.
He really needed to focus.
He was losing control of himself.
The soft knock against the doorframe pulled his attention upward.
And then his heart began pounding against his ribs.
"Everything alright, Zayne?"
There it was.
That voice.
The voice he'd spent the last three weeks trying to forget.
He despised himself for wanting to forget it.
Because the way you asked him - soft, careful, your voice roughening slightly when you said his name - made him feel things he had no right feeling.
"Yes." The answer came out sharper than he'd intended.
He watched you walk toward his desk while trying not to stare.
He failed.
His piercing hazel-green eyes found yours as you placed a hand against the edge of his desk.
Too close.
Far too close.
Your hand looked soft against the dark wood.
He wondered, not for the first time, what it would feel like if you'd touched him like that again.
"Want to come to the cafeteria with me?" you asked. "The others are there too, and I'd like you to meet someone."
He could practically hear his heart tearing apart inside his chest. He already knew who it was.
"I think I saw her already." A few seconds passed. "Three weeks ago."
You nodded immediately, the corners of your lips pulling upward.
He couldn't stop staring at your mouth. He hated that he couldn't stop.
"Oh, yes. I saw you from the corner of my eye!" You laughed softly. "That's my ex-fiancée."
What?
His eyes widened. He hadn't even realised he'd spoken aloud.
Before he could stop himself, the word had already escaped. But you didn't seem bothered.
In fact, you continued. "I know. Kind of weird for most people. But we still get along. I mostly do, with most of my partners."
Partners.
Not girlfriends.
Partners.
Zayne swallowed hard.
His eyes searched yours while he felt heat creeping up the tips of his ears.
And for the first time in weeks, he felt something dangerous unfurling inside his chest.
Hope.
Real, unbearable hope.
So he agreed to join you.
And as the two of you walked toward the cafeteria, he found himself forgetting everything else.
The unfinished work.
The exhaustion.
The shame.
All of it disappeared beneath the sound of your voice.
He also didn't notice the way you moved closer to him.
Or the way your hands brushed together every few steps.
Or the soft pink tint spreading across your face as you tried and failed to stop yourself from smiling.
Pairing: Caleb x Fem! Reader, Valko is also part of the plot.
Summary: Who would have thought that shampoo and body wash could cause so many problems?
a/n: I've always wanted to write a Sylus one-shot because he's my favourite. However, I saw a comment on Instagram that inspired me to write this one-shot. (Sadly, I can't remember who wrote it)
"Let me go!" It had been like this for half an hour now, and you were starting to lose your patience.
You had things to do today - fortunately, it was only paperwork that Tara had forgotten to finish. Last week, she had practically begged you to help her out, and as a good friend, you had eventually relented.
But every time you tried to get up, your boyfriend refused to let go. His grip around your waist remained tight while his face was pressed against the top of your head.
His breathing wasn't slow, and with your ear pressed against his chest, you could hear his heart beating far too quickly for someone who was supposedly asleep.
You sighed heavily. "I know that you're not asleep." The moment he heard you, Caleb pressed a kiss to the crown of your head and nuzzled further into your hair.
There was nothing Caleb loved more than spending a day at home with you all to himself. Unfortunately, today wasn't exactly a day off for you, considering you'd agreed to help your friend.
"Tara needs my help. I have to use my laptop."
Slowly shaking his head from side to side, Caleb gently tilted your chin upward until you were looking directly into his eyes. "She can wait."
"She really can't," you argued. At that, he lazily smirked - the exact expression he always wore whenever he had come up with something.
Caleb pushed himself up from his lying position with the help of his bionic arm until he was sitting upright. The second you tried to sit up as well, he placed a hand on your stomach and gently pushed you back down onto the bed.
"Fight me, and I'll let you go." The way he said it was playful. He'd never seriously fight you, but you were beginning to get genuinely frustrated. "We both know you'll win any-"
"I'll go easy on you," he interrupted. "I'll only use one hand." Studying his face, you realized he was actually serious. So you nodded.
The moment he removed his hand from your stomach, you immediately made a fist and aimed for his jaw, but Caleb effortlessly caught your wrist and pulled your hand closer, pressing a kiss against it.
Your face instantly heated up, though you stubbornly kept your frown. Looking at you with a wide grin, Caleb announced, "Looks like you lost." And before you could protest, he suddenly threw himself forward, landing on top of you and putting enough weight on you that breathing became slightly difficult.
"You didn't even give me a second chance!" you shouted. Caleb only chuckled as he began pressing butterfly kisses all over your face. "Can't just give you everything you want, pipsqueak."
You groaned. "I never ask you to give me anything!" At that, Caleb caged you in between his arms and looked down at you. "Yes, you do." Slowly, he leaned down until his lips were right beside your ear. "Weren't you asking for it last ni-"
"That's not the same, and don't you dare finish that sentence!"
The smile on his face only widened before he silenced you with a kiss before you could continue.
His lips were soft and warm, fitting perfectly against yours. At first, it was only a gentle press, but then he parted his lips and caught your bottom lip between his. The light suction almost made you dizzy.
Then he bit down softly, just enough to pull a gasp from you. But before he could deepen the kiss any further, you placed your hands against his cheeks and gently pushed him back.
He stared at you with wide pupils, the deep purple of his eyes barely visible anymore. "I really have to, Caleb," you whispered, pressing your forehead against his. "Please."
For a few seconds, he simply looked at you. His expression softened. Then he sighed. "Okay. But only because I know you'll blame yourself if you can't help Tara."
A smile spread across your face. You thanked him before he reluctantly let go of you, allowing you to retreat to your small office to finally get some work done. Just before closing the door, however, you called out "Don't forget to go grocery shopping!"
Immediately, Caleb groaned. "But I don't want to."
"Well, now you do!"
Still sitting on the bed, he spent a few moments contemplating whether or not he actually had to. Unfortunately, your wish was basically his command.
Eventually, he got up and headed to the bathroom to shower before leaving.
The bathroom was filled with products that belonged to you - your shampoo, your body wash, everything you'd ask him to buy whenever he went out.
Caleb had never even bothered getting his own. He loved your scent.
It was easy to distinguish from everyone else's, and combined with the shampoo and body wash you used, it was something he could never get enough of.
Both products carried a soft floral scent, and as he used them, he found himself quietly humming.
It was a song he used to sing to you whenever you couldn't sleep - whether you were scared of the dark or simply wanted to hear his voice.
Even though he hated seeing you frightened and close to tears, he secretly loved the fact that you always called out his name first.
As a child, he had only been able to hope that his feelings would someday be returned. Now, as an adult, he was endlessly grateful that everything had turned out exactly as he'd dreamed.
The shower didn't take long. He dressed quickly afterward, leaving his hair damp because of the heat, before gently knocking on the door of your office.
Your eyes immediately found his. You watched droplets of water slowly fall from his hair onto the white shirt he was wearing. "Like what you're seeing?" His quiet, teasing voice was one of the things you both loved and hated about Caleb.
Loved because he sounded unfairly attractive. Hated because he knew exactly what effect he had on you.
Without saying a word, you slowly nodded.
That made him smile.
His eyes never left yours as he told you he was leaving. Then, before you could even speak, he added, "'Return home safe and sound, Caleb.' I know, babe. I will."
He even imitated your voice.
You immediately rolled your eyes as he closed the door and headed toward the grocery store. Fortunately, it wasn't very far away.
The heat was already starting to irritate him. He would've much rather stayed in your apartment with the only warmth coming from your body.
Still, he entered the store.
Despite how early it was, plenty of people were already there, browsing through shelves filled with fruits, vegetables, and all sorts of products. Caleb already knew exactly what he needed to buy.
He always kept a mental list of everything you ever mentioned - your favorite fruits, the drinks you enjoyed, and how much you complained whenever he spent too much money on you. Even though he knew you secretly adored how much he cared.
As he walked through the store, he failed to notice the person who had begun following him.
Not intentionally, at least.
Something had simply compelled the stranger to follow the scent.
The man was very tall. His muscles were broad, and his eyes were sharp enough to be intimidating. But the light grin on his face softened his features.
He couldn't help himself. Without realizing it, he followed the scent all the way outside onto the street, his footsteps quiet as he closed his eyes and focused entirely on the smell.
Caleb, meanwhile, was simply grateful that grocery shopping had been quick.
He pulled out his keys and opened the front door, stepping inside without looking behind him. He only pushed his hand against the door, expecting it to close.
No click of the door sounded.
But Caleb didn't notice. He was already opening the office door with the grocery bags in hand. "I'm back."
You looked up immediately. But your widened eyes weren't directed at him. "Valko?"
Caleb frowned. "What's that supposed to mean? A new nickname?"
You quickly shook your head and pointed behind him. The second Caleb turned around, he dropped the grocery bags. "Who's this?!" he demanded.
Valko tilted his head. Only now did he notice you sitting at your desk with your hands still resting on the keyboard. "What are you doing here?"
Offended, Caleb fully faced the stranger "No, what are you doing here? Walking into my girlfriend's apartment?"
"Huh?" The tall man looked back at you and noticed the smile forming on your face. "So that's your boyfriend, shortcake?"
You laughed and nodded. Meanwhile, Caleb looked ready to commit a crime. "Shortcake? You two know each other?"
Before the situation could escalate, you immediately stepped forward and gently grabbed your boyfriend's bicep. "Yes, we know each other. He probably followed you because of the scent."
With a grin, Valko nodded. "I did. But I didn't realize it was coming from him." His sharp teeth peeked out as Caleb continued glaring at him.
"He always uses my shampoo and body wash," you explained. "That's why you followed him." Caleb stared.
"What is he? A dog?"
"Caleb!"
Without any hint of offense, Valko answered, "I'm a werewolf."
Your boyfriend rubbed his temples. "First a doctor who acts like Elsa from Frozen, then a white-haired alien, then a guy who's half fish, or something like that, then a rich guy who calls you kitten and owns a mechanical crow, and now a dog."
"A werewolf!"
"I really don't care!" Caleb declared sharply.
Valko scoffed and sat down on the couch.
You sighed. This was going to be a very long conversation.
Pairing: Ada Wong x Fem! Reader (although it can also be read as gender-neutral, since I didn't use any pronouns or descriptions of the Reader's appearance).
Summary: Straight-up smut.
a/n: I promised myself not to write smut after having written nothing but smut for years, but I just couldn't stop myself.
Short black hair spilled across the pillow, eyebrows drawn together in a frustrated frown, lips slightly parted as her hands clenched the bedsheets beneath her.
Out of all the places Ada could've been right now, this was the last one she ever imagined finding herself in.
This place was her guilty pleasure. She knew she shouldn't be here, knew better than to give in, and yet she craved it more than anything whenever you weren't around.
"Missed me?" The voice was soft, almost tender, but Ada knew better. There was amusement hidden beneath it, confidence. You already knew the answer - you simply wanted to hear it from her lips.
Refusing to answer, she bit down on her lower lip, smudging the deep red lipstick ever so slightly. Somehow it only made her look more irresistible against her pale skin.
Your gaze lingered on the faint flush spreading across Ada's cheeks and down her neck, drawing a quiet chuckle from you. Slowly, you leaned forward and pressed a feather-light kiss against her stomach, making her gasp before she could stop herself.
Your fingertips toyed with the dark red fabric gathered above her waist, the material rolled up just enough to expose more skin. The sight alone was enough to make the air between you feel heavier as you let out a slow breath against her.
The sensation sent a shiver through her instantly. Ada arched her back before she could stop herself, silently cursing her own weakness, hating how effortlessly you could make her react.
All she wanted was your touch. Your warmth. Having you close was dangerous enough, yet it was exactly what she always found herself wanting.
And you knew that.
You knew her far too well.
Her favourite colour, the brands she reached for without thinking, the scents that lingered on her skin, all the little things she pretended nobody noticed but that you remembered with ease.
So you kept your hand resting on the fabric, rubbing your thumb slowly against it while rising onto your knees, watching her from above with an expression that made her pulse quicken.
"This is new, isn't it?" The simple question sent another tremor through her. Nothing escaped your attention. "A colour to remember. Not your usual choice."
Carefully, you released the fabric and let your hand drift lower with agonizing patience. Ada immediately looked away, fixing her eyes on the wall as if it could somehow save her, focusing on keeping her breathing steady.
Your eyes never left her face as your fingers traced lower, finding the delicate lace beneath. The faint touch alone drew a sharp inhale from her lips.
Without saying a word, your finger glided slowly over the lace, feeling the warmth of her folds beneath it. The reaction was impossible to miss, and the sight of her struggling to maintain control pulled a slow, satisfied smile onto your lips.
"I wonder if Leon knows."
The silence that followed made Ada painfully aware of the frantic beat of her heart against her ribs. She didn't even know that you knew about Leon.
It wasn't like she was in a relationship or anything like that, but somehow she always found herself wherever the blonde was. Close enough to watch, yet never quite close enough to be noticed unless she wanted to be.
Your thumb began tracing slow, deliberate circles against the lace, directly over her clit, and she bit down harder on her lip as a tremor ran through her body.
A quiet laugh slipped from you. "You're so quiet." Your voice was warm, almost teasing. "Usually you're bratty enough to have something clever to say, but now that I know about him..." Your thumb never stopped moving. "You can't even get a single word out."
The gentle motion continued as you tilted your head. "Look at me, Ada." The command settled over her like a weight she couldn't resist, and her eyes lifted to meet yours. Your expression remained soft, patient, impossibly calm.
Leaning closer, your hand resting beside her head, you left barely any space between your faces. "Did you wear it for him?" There was nowhere to run from the question, and deep down she wasn't sure she wanted to. She shook her head slowly.
Your gaze drifted from her eyes to her lips as you eased the lace aside, exposing her to the cool air and drawing a sharp gasp from her. Your hand tightened around her thigh, close enough to make her ache, but still denying her what she wanted most.
"Words, Ada. Tell me." It took every ounce of effort to answer. When she finally spoke, her voice was barely above a whisper. "No." Her eyes fixed on your collarbone, unable to hold your gaze, but the answer seemed to satisfy you as your fingers gently parted her folds, lingering just enough to make her anticipation unbearable.
Eventually she looked back at you, impatience flickering through her expression. The moment your eyes met, you slowly pushed a finger inside her, pulling a startled gasp from her lips. "Such a good girl." The praise alone made her tighten involuntarily around you as your finger curled and stroked with deliberate precision.
Your lips brushed along her jaw, each touch sending a shiver through her, drawing soft sounds she couldn't hold back. When you reached her ear, your voice dropped lower.
"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" A kiss ghosted across her cheek. "Otherwise you wouldn't be here, legs spread just for me." Quiet whimpers escaped her as your finger moved steadily, her thighs instinctively trying to close around your hand until your other hand gripped her firmly, guiding them apart again.
"Keep your legs open." The words settled deep inside her, and she obeyed immediately, doing everything she could to stay still despite the heat building beneath your touch. Your smile brushed against her skin before you finally captured her lips in a kiss.
At first it was soft, almost innocent, until a second finger eased inside her, making her moan into your mouth at the sudden fullness. The sound only seemed to encourage you as the kiss deepened, your tongue sliding against hers while she melted into you, breathless and overwhelmed, wanting to pull away for air yet unable to make herself leave.
You slowly pulled away from her lips, a soft whimper escaping her as your middle and ring finger continued to brush that sensitive spot deep inside her. The sensation made her squeeze her eyes shut, every movement sending another wave of pleasure through her as you lowered yourself, stopping just inches from where she needed you most.
Your fingers curled with every slow thrust, deliberately pressing against that sweet spot while you pressed teasing kisses just above her clit. The feeling of your lips made her hips lift instinctively from the mattress. The ache building inside her was becoming unbearable, and Ada found herself growing desperate. "Please," she whispered, and the sound made you glance up into her now-open eyes.
"Please what?" you asked softly, your thumb brushing slow circles onto the hood of her clit which made her gasp. A shiver ran through her body as she struggled to catch her breath. "I need it," she admitted between shaky breaths. "Your mouth... please." The moment the words left her lips, you finally gave in, lowering your head until your mouth found her, your tongue tracing a slow path upward from where your fingers disappeared inside her.
Ada's hands clenched the sheets beneath her as you continued working her with steady, deliberate movements. Your lips closed around her clit, drawing a broken moan from her throat while your tongue and fingers worked together. She writhed beneath you, every touch pushing her closer to the edge she had been chasing for far too long.
Her legs trembled uncontrollably, and you could feel how close she was. The tension in her body wound tighter and tighter until, just as she was about to fall apart, you pulled away completely. The sudden loss made her curse under her breath before staring at you in disbelief. "Why did you stop?"
For several long seconds, you said nothing. You simply watched her while slowly licking the taste of her from your fingers, letting the silence stretch between you. Only then did you answer. "Can't let you have everything that easily." Rising from the bed, you made your way toward the bedroom door. "I'm not just someone you can have whenever you feel like it."
With that, you pulled the door open while Ada remained sprawled across your bed, flushed from head to toe, her hair tangled and her body still aching from the pleasure you'd denied her. Pausing at the doorway, you glanced back over your shoulder before leaving. "Clean up and get out, sweetheart." A faint smirk tugged at your lips. "We wouldn't want you being late for your job."
I'm finally back, and no, I haven't forgotten the requests. I'll try to write them next week. For today, though, you'll get a one-shot that I've been thinking about writing for a couple of weeks.
Don't ask me what I was thinking about while writing it - I just couldn't help myself.
Since today is my birthday and I have the day off from work, I finally wrote everything I wanted to this month. I finally posted three requests, the second part of a one-shot that I wrote, and a one-shot that I've wanted to write for a while.
Just so you guys know, I probably won't post much in May because I'll be busy. That means I'll probably start posting more often in June.
You can still request (even though my profile says "Requests are closed"), but it'll take me a while to write and post them.
Summary: Teasing Grace while she's at your workplace
a/n: I love women. That's all.
"I'm so excited," you said with a smile on your face as you looked at the picture of you and your girlfriend on your desk, which you two had taken on your first date.
You remember that day very well. Grace was so nervous that she was stuttering the whole time. She kept accidentally pronouncing everything the wrong way and even talking to herself out loud.
Her face had been so pink from the embarrassment that she could barely even look at you, trying to hide her face behind her short hair.
She almost even dropped her phone down the river if you hadn't caught it.
"Is Grace coming over?" a deep husky voice asked behind you as you turned around with the swivel chair to face Leon.
Nodding happily, "She is. I finally managed to pull some strings, and now she's coming over in about 2 minutes and 24 seconds." Your eyes had been looking at the watch the whole time.
Usually, no one besides the DSO employees is allowed to enter the building, but you finally managed to convince one of your higher-ups to let your girlfriend visit.
You had been working at DSO for about three years now, and all because of Leon Scott Kennedy himself, you got to meet Grace in the first place.
He had talked about this girl he had met during the time he had been suffering from the Raccoon City Syndrome, and you remember his exact words.
"There's this girl. She's about your age, and I think you two would get along well. Her name is Grace, and she's a bit anxious - well, actually very anxious - but I think you two could be great friends or even girlfriends or whatever you guys want to call it."
Leon had always been your favourite coworker, and after having met Grace, you liked him even more.
"You're crazy," he mumbled, still loud enough for you to hear, as you responded back, "Crazy in love, old man."
Putting his hands on his hips while leaning on the wall. "I'm not even that old."
Humming shortly, you leaned back in your chair. "True, you move around as if you're in your twenties."
The older man rolled his eyes at you, and before he could say something back, you suddenly got up.
"Grace, you're finally here!" The smile never left your face as you put your arms tightly around your girlfriend.
Even now, the young woman was blushing. She was trying to avoid eye contact with everyone else, not really used to people staring at her that blatantly.
"We saw each other yesterday," she whispered as you let her out of the hug but kept your pinky finger curled around hers.
"Exactly, it's been too long already," and with that, you pulled her towards your desk, sitting her down on your chair while you pulled out another one that no one was using.
The building was huge, and Grace didn't even know how she managed to find her way through it.
"I'll give you two some privacy," said Leon, waving for a second before walking away as Grace's face got even more flushed.
"W-We don't need privacy," she whispered as you started to chuckle softly, your eyes never leaving her face as she shyly looked at you, her heart beating fast once she made eye contact.
"Didn't know that you were into voyeurism," you started to smirk as she started waving her hands around while saying "no," which was quite loud and made a couple of people turn around.
"Sorry," she blurted out as the DSO employees couldn't help but smile at her.
And before you could start teasing her further, a voice was heard behind you. "So that's the girlfriend you were swooning about."
Turning around, you nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, that's Grace. My beautiful girlfriend."
Sheva started to laugh softly as she held out her hand to introduce herself to Grace, to which Grace introduced herself back with lots of stutters, but at least Sheva seemed easy to talk to, which calmed your girlfriend a bit down.
"I'll leave you two be now," the woman said, but quickly leaned down towards you and Grace before she left. "There's no need to be shy, and by the way, you have a pretty smile."
Hearing that made you grin as Grace started laughing nervously, obviously not having expected the compliment but also being flustered.
Slowly, you pulled your chair closer to hers and leaned in, your faces almost touching each other. “You use that smile like a weapon every time. Isn’t that right, Miss Ashcroft?” you whispered in her ear while starting to leave small kisses all over her shoulder and neck.
"Not in public!"
"As if that's the first time we have done something like that."
Summary: Everyone knows that you and your boyfriend are complete opposites, surprisingly, it worked out well - until it didn't.
a/n: This is a continuation from Part 1 because about three people wanted a Part 2
Hours had passed, and you were still at the hospital.
The doctor had told him you were stable, that there was no immediate danger anymore, but that your body needed time to heal from the wounds you had suffered during the fight with the tyrant. Those words should have brought him comfort. They didn’t.
During the hours you had been taken care of, he had worn a path into the hospital floor, pacing the halls over and over again.
People had begun to stare. The look on his face was far too grim, and every now and then quiet words slipped past his lips - broken thoughts no one could understand.
The moment he was told he could see you, he was through the door before anyone could say another word.
And there you were. Lying in the hospital bed, bandages wrapped around your body, skin bruised and torn beneath them.
The sight of you made something in him ache. Sadness settled heavily in his chest because it had been you who got hurt, and anger followed close behind - anger at himself for the things he had said during training.
Leon had hoped you would wake up on the first day. You didn’t.
Still, he never left your side.
Even Chris had been contacted by Hunnigan, worried about the DSO agent. He came when he could, though every time he entered the room he found Leon in the same place: seated beside your bed, eyes fixed on you as if looking away might somehow make you disappear.
He only ever left when Chris practically forced him to eat something or take a walk, because it was obvious the blonde was blaming himself.
He knew you were going to be alright. He knew the danger had passed.
But that didn’t change the fact that he could have lost you.
“Don’t forget to eat,” Chris said as he walked toward the door. Before opening it, he turned back one last time. “And don’t beat yourself up over it.”
Then the room was quiet again.
Only you and him.
Leon sat beside your bed, holding your hand tightly in his.
No matter how long he looked at you, it still felt like his heart was breaking. The bandages remained wrapped around your body, though he changed them himself whenever the nurses allowed it.
The wounds looked bad. Especially the ones across your back.
Leon stared down at the floor, thumb brushing over your knuckles as his grip tightened.
“I’m so sorry.”
His voice was barely above a whisper.
“I really didn’t mean it. Anger got the best of me, and I wish I’d never said any of it.” He swallowed hard. “If I hadn’t… maybe you wouldn’t be lying here now. I know this was my fault. Knowing you, you probably didn’t want to tell me about the tyrant.”
A short, broken laugh escaped him.
“You’re stubborn. You’ve always been like that.”
Your index finger twitched for a moment, but Leon didn’t notice. He was too lost in his own thoughts.
A few seconds passed before you realised he hadn’t felt it. Gathering what little strength you had, you forced out a hoarse croak.
“Learned that from you, you idiot.”
At the sound of your voice, Leon squeezed his eyes shut.
“I think I’m going insane.”
A weak chuckle left you as you slowly turned your head toward him.
“Took you long enough. Now look at me, Leon.”
He let out a shaky breath before finally lifting his gaze to yours. The moment he saw your eyes open, a soft gasp left him as he said your name like he couldn’t quite believe it.
Before you could tease him again, he leaned forward and wrapped his arms around you as carefully as he could.
“Didn’t realise that you missed me t-”
Quiet sobs cut you off.
“Oh fuck, he’s crying,” you whispered.
Slowly, ignoring the ache in your body, you lifted a hand and rubbed his back. You murmured soft reassurances, telling him it was okay, though he denied it through shaky breaths.
“Leon, even though your words did hurt me, it’s also my fault for not taking it seriously. Especially knowing how much you hate seeing anyone get hurt.”
Softly, you pressed a kiss to the side of his head.
“It’s okay. You’re okay. We’re both okay. We made it out, and that’s what matters most.”
After a moment, he finally calmed down and pulled away, enough to sit back in the chair. His eyes were red, his cheeks damp, but he was smiling down at you and you smiled back.
“Have I ever told you how pretty you look when you’re crying?”
Leon stared at you in disbelief, voice rough with emotion.
Summary: Leon can handle many things, but an angry wife isn't one of them.
a/n: One-shot based on this request.
You were fuming, your hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly your knuckles had gone pale as you drove to Leon’s workplace.
Usually, your mornings started perfectly. Your husband always made sure to give you a kiss before leaving, promising to be home early. And before he walked out the door, he always fed Turkey.
Yes, Turkey - your baby German Shepherd, who was incredibly well-behaved and loved the both of you more than anything.
No matter how stressful life got or how urgent an emergency meeting was, the two of you always made time to feed Turkey.
The rule was simple: whoever woke up first fed Turkey.
And it had worked flawlessly… until today.
You were suddenly woken by a soft, pitiful whimper beside the bed.
Groaning, you turned over and looked down. There he was - Turkey, the adorable dog Leon had gotten you for your birthday. But this time, he looked devastated. Betrayed, even.
You immediately sat up and pulled him into your lap. “What happened?” you asked, rubbing his head.
Turkey gave you one tragic look, then launched himself off the bed and sprinted out of the room.
Since he wasn’t the type to cry unless something was genuinely wrong, you followed him downstairs in alarm.
He led you straight into the kitchen.
And there, the horrifying truth became clear.
Not only had Leon forgotten to kiss you…
He had forgotten to feed Turkey.
You hadn’t been this angry in a long time.
Still, you took the time to feed your poor, starving German Shepherd, who acted as though he hadn’t eaten in years. Then you grabbed your car keys and stormed out of the house.
“Unbelievable…” you muttered under your breath. “He forgot to feed Turkey.”
The entire drive, you stayed furious, honking at anyone who so much as breathed incorrectly near your car.
When you finally parked, you marched into the building like a woman on a mission.
Your footsteps practically shook the lobby floor as you stomped toward the elevator, tapping your foot impatiently until the doors opened.
Around you, DSO agents whispered nervously.
“What’s she doing here?”
“Doesn’t Mrs. Kennedy have the day off?”
“She looks mad. I’m scared for whoever caused that.”
The elevator doors slid open, and you stepped inside, immediately pressing the button for the floor where Leon’s meeting was being held.
You were so focused on your rage that you barely noticed the four people already inside with you.
Since everyone was headed to the floors above, the ride took a while. You stood there in complete silence, staring straight ahead like vengeance itself.
“Is she okay?” Chris whispered, leaning down so only the three others could hear him.
It had been a while since he’d seen you this angry, and frankly, he valued his safety.
“It’s been a while since I’ve seen her this mad,” Jill murmured, sneaking glances in your direction while pretending not to.
“I’m betting this is because of Leon,” Sheva said, leaning casually against the wall as she studied your expression.
“How are you so sure?” Chris asked.
“And how much?” Jill added immediately.
“A hundred dollars,” Sheva replied. “She’s too quiet. Usually when she’s mad, she's quite vocal. If she’s silent, it’s serious. That means it's Leon.”
Jill shook her hand. “I say it’s something else.”
“Shouldn’t we have gotten off at floor twenty-eight?” Chris asked suddenly, staring at the panel.
They were already at thirty-four.
Getting closer, Rebecca pointed at the two women, now deeply invested in their wager.
“We should follow them,” she whispered. “In case something goes wrong. Also… I want to know why she’s mad.”
Without a word, Chris nodded and slowly pulled out his phone to text Leon. 'Hey, did you do something wrong this morning?'
The second he sent the text, the elevator doors opened. You marched out and stomped straight toward the meeting room.
The four agents followed silently behind you like nosy backup dancers.
They watched as you reached the door - and kicked it open so hard it nearly made them all wince.
Everyone inside the meeting room jumped and turned toward the entrance.
There you stood.
In your pajamas.
With house slippers on.
“Mrs. Kennedy,” one of the higher-ups said carefully, “I thought we gave you the day off?”
You ignored him completely and marched forward until you stood directly in front of your husband.
“Leon Scott Kennedy!”
The sheer fury in your voice silenced the entire room.
Leon’s eyes widened in immediate horror.
“Forgetting my morning kiss was your first mistake,” you said, pointing at him while placing your other hand on your hip. “But I could’ve overlooked that.”
The room remained deathly still.
“But forgetting to feed our child?” you continued. “That is unforgivable!”
Everyone gasped.
Except Leon, who leaned back in his chair like a man accepting his fate.
“They have a child?” Rebecca whispered.
Sheva silently held out her hand toward Jill.
With a sigh, Jill slapped the money into it.
“It was a pleasure doing business with you,” Sheva smirked.
“B-baby, I really didn’t mean to,” Leon stammered.
You cut him off immediately.
“You forgot to give Turkey his food! How heartless can you be?”
Now the room looked deeply confused.
Besides you and Leon.
“Their child is called Turkey?” Chris asked, horrified.
No one answered him.
“You and I made a rule,” you continued. “Whoever gets up first feeds Turkey! Our little German Shepherd was practically crying!”
A chorus of relieved “Ohhhhhh” filled the room.
Everything made sense now.
“Maybe we should leave,” a higher-up muttered, already backing toward the door.
The rest quickly followed.
As the four agents turned to leave, Leon looked at them with the most desperate expression imaginable.
“Your fault,” Sheva said flatly before walking out.
The others followed.
“Traitors,” Leon muttered.
“Are you even listening?!” you snapped.
“Yes, I am, love of my life!” Leon said instantly.
Imagine Leon and his wife (You) are DSO agents. You listen to Leon - he is your supervisor, but at home, Leon listens to you. He is afraid of you when you are mad😂
One day, Leon made you mad. He rushed off to work early in the morning for a meeting. He has forgotten to feed turkey, your baby german shepherd.
You storm into his office, fuming. "LEON SCOTT KENNEDY!" The whole department heard it.
He is so screwed😂
That's a very fun idea and I had a lot of fun writing this. I hope you'll enjoy it. I'll post it in a couple of minutes.
Summary: Maybe it just wasn't meant to be, but perhaps it would have worked in another life.
a/n: One-shot based on this request. I promised myself that I wouldn't write a sad ending. But I guess I had to break that promise.
If someone had told you that twenty-one years later you would be laying in Leon’s arms, you would have laughed in their face.
He hated you - and you had given him every reason to.
Two people couldn't have been more different.
Leon was a hero. From the day you met in Raccoon City, it was obvious he was destined for something greater. You, meanwhile, were the villain in his story. A mercenary’s life was all you had ever known, and betrayal had always been part of the job.
Even now, you could still remember the way he looked at you every time your paths crossed.
The first time, his eyes had been full of heartbreak and betrayal.
You had been one of the people responsible for destroying countless lives. You sold information on the black market for your own gain. You worked beside those who unleashed the virus onto the world, and still you stood before him with an unreadable face.
Leon had been young then. So had you. But the tragedy had carved itself into him.
He blamed himself for failing to save the people around him, while you had been one of the reasons they needed saving in the first place.
And Leon hated himself most of all for believing, even for a moment, that you were good. That you were someone like him.
But you were nothing like him.
His words that day had cut deeper than any knife ever could.
“If I ever see you again, I’ll kill you without hesitation.” The threat sounded foreign coming from his mouth, and yet he spoke it with a conviction that left no room for doubt.
You regretted your actions when you saw the betrayal in his face. But regret was never enough to change you, and so you kept doing what you had always done.
A few years later, you met again.
He was older. Hardened. The weight of his work had hollowed him out, stealing the spark that once lived in his eyes.
Throughout the mission, Leon remained cold and unreadable, and you noticed every second of it.
You had been following him from the shadows, watching his every move. You even stepped in when things became dangerous, helping him when he needed it most. But none of that changed what you were. You were still a mercenary.
Leon was never supposed to notice you that day in the underground facility. But he did.
You had let your guard slip for only a second, and that was all it took. He caught sight of you in the darkness.
No words were exchanged. None were needed.
He raised his gun and pulled the trigger.
The bullet tore into your lower abdomen, and Leon stayed true to the promise he had made years ago.
But luck had always clung to you like a curse. Somehow, you escaped that night.
And then twenty-one years passed. During those years, you stopped following the DSO agent. The bullet had said enough. It was the only message you needed to understand how far you had gone.
You took more missions. Betrayed more people. Sold more secrets to the highest bidder. Life had never offered you kindness, and by then you no longer knew how to ask for it.
Then one day, your mission brought you back to Raccoon City. The place where you met Leon. The place where everything had begun.
You could no longer deny it.
Somewhere along the way, he had found a place in your heart.
From the moment you first met him, it had been clear that Leon was good, selfless, trustworthy, the kind of person the world did not deserve. And after all these years, that had never changed.
Apparently, neither had your feelings.
The blonde young woman grabbed your arm before you could leave.
“W-Where are you going?” Grace stuttered, her eyes wide with fear as she clutched the antidote tightly in her other hand.
At first, you said nothing. You had only intended to give her the antidote so she could save Leon, then disappear once more. But something inside you had shifted.
You thought perhaps it was finally time to pay for everything you had done.
“I’ll find Victor Gideon,” you said quietly. “Make sure Leon gets the antidote. He needs it." You stepped toward the door, then paused for a moment without turning back. “Take care of him. He needs someone to look after him.”
Then the door closed behind you, leaving Grace alone.
Hours passed before Leon found you.
Grace’s frantic words telling him she had seen you were enough to send him running, but he was too late.
There you were.
Lying motionless on the blood-soaked floor, your body bloodied up, while Victor Gideon’s corpse lay several feet away.
You had done it. For once, you had been the one to save the day.
Leon dropped to his knees beside you and gathered you into his arms. Your eyes were still open, blinking weakly as he pulled you against his chest.
“Why did you do this?” he asked, his voice breaking. For the first time, everything between you was gone. The hatred. The anger. The betrayal.
Only sorrow remained in his eyes.
Blood slipped from the corner of your mouth as you coughed, but a faint smile still touched your lips.
“No matter what, Kennedy…” you whispered. “I’m glad we met. I have many regrets… but this isn’t one of them.”
Then you exhaled one final time.
A tear slipped from Leon’s eye and fell onto your face.
At least this once, you had been in Leon’s arms.
You only wished it had not been for the last time.
Today's the day you broke Leon's heart. You are a mercenary. You are going to sell off the information to the black market. You know Leon hated traitors. He hated you. You know you fuck it up but deep down you still love him with all of your heart.
"If I ever see you again, I will kill you without hesitation." Leon said coldy. His eyes were blinded with rage, coldness, betrayal, and hatred. The very blue eyes that you loved became unrecognisable.
It's been 21 years. You are still loving Leon in the shadows, following him to every single mission, watching over him, and helping him out during missions.
You remember where you accidentally encountered Leon face to face in an underground facility. He shot you at your lower abdomen, but you managed to escape. You don't blame Leon. You deserve it. That scar still remains.
Leon has contracted the Raccoon City Syndrome. You as well. You met Grace. You told her to take care of Leon if you did not make it out alive. You gave Grace the anti viral, and you will destory the ARK.
Once you were at the ARK, you got into a battle with Gideon. You know your body is not holding much longer.
By the time Leon got to the ARK, he saw you gotten impaled by Gideon's testicles. You know this is the end for you, but your wish has came true to see Leon once last time💔 (you died in Leon's arms)
Please don't kill meeeeee🙏🙏🙏🙏
I tried my best to write this as good as possible. I hope that you'll like it. I will post it in a couple of minutes.
Summary: Leon is already struggling to deal with the Raccoon City Syndrome, but since you were infected too, he has been finding it even harder to keep a clear head.
a/n: One-shot based on this request.
It was a normal day. You both had been at home, and it all started with a cough.
At first, you ignored it, but Leon kept his eyes on you throughout the day, and slowly things started to fall into place for him.
Your husband always observed everything around him, sometimes on consciously and other times unconsciously. It had been a habit he had developed ever since joining the DSO.
He noticed the things you didn’t. The way your skin had gotten paler, your hands trembling, the restless nights, and the sweating during your sleep.
It all seemed like a cold to him until he caught a glimpse of the back of your neck.
There it was. The dark spot that had crawled its way onto his and Sherry’s skin, and now onto yours too.
Everything went quiet in that moment. You had already turned around to look at him, and even though you asked him if he was alright, he didn’t respond.
His eyes were slightly widened, and his hands had involuntarily curled into fists. It was as if time had stopped, and the only thing he could hear was his heart rapidly beating in his chest.
“...I have to make a call.” With that, your husband abruptly stood up and went into your shared bedroom while you could do nothing but look after him.
Pulling his phone out, he could barely search for Sherry’s number due to his hands shaking ever so slightly, and he didn’t even notice that he had managed to dial her number until he heard his name being said.
“She’s infected.” That was the only thing that left his lips, and the young woman understood immediately, yet she couldn’t help but utter a “What?” in disbelief.
Trying to research didn’t help.
The blonde woman was on the computer most of the time, and everything she searched up wasn’t leading to anything.
Leon had even gone so far as to give her access to files only he was allowed to look through, and yet Sherry couldn’t find anything - not a single antidote to save you.
At this point, it didn’t even matter how Leon or Sherry’s condition were, because you had started feeling worse, drastically.
That one dark spot turned into multiple. Your sleep became even more restless, and you grew weaker day by day.
Your husband remembered the day clearly when he told you what was happening. Your eyes had filled up with tears, and you started to panic.
Each breath was harder to take than the next, and you were scared, probably even terrified, and Leon couldn’t do anything about it besides holding you in his arms and promising you that he’d find a way to heal you.
The days after became a bit easier to accept for you, as you had already been scared when he first got infected, so you weren’t alone with the Raccoon City Syndrome.
But Leon couldn’t accept it. He wasn’t going to.
He started staying up later than usual, never leaving your side, scared that today would be the day you would take your last breath.
He barely ate anything, having lost his appetite, but still got you to eat because he couldn’t bear the thought of you stopping taking care of yourself.
At work, he was easier to provoke, especially in the training room where it became visible. His movements were sharper, harder, and faster.
The people around him started to get worried. Leon would close himself off even more than he already had done before, and he would barely talk.
When he was at home, though, he was completely different.
He was very gentle and would try his best to make you feel alright, even when you would tell him to calm down and that you weren’t going anywhere.
And on one particularly stressful night, he broke down. You had been in your bedroom and were waiting for Leon to come upstairs, but the more minutes passed, the more you grew worried.
You had trouble getting up and you still tried, not caring if you could fall down, and the moment you made it downstairs, the sight of Leon broke you.
He was sitting on the sofa, his elbows resting on his knees as his face was buried in his hands. You could hear the frantic breathing and soft, unfamiliar sobs he was letting out while he was shaking.
Wanting to speak, you opened your mouth but stopped abruptly when you heard him say something. “Please, not you... I can’t.” And the sobs didn’t stop.
Tears had made their way to your eyes, and you slowly walked towards him until you laid your hand on his shoulder, which made him still before slowly looking up.
His eyes were red and his skin paler than usual. “You should be in bed,” he whispered, trying to get up, but you pressed your hand down so that he remained sitting.
“You’re hurting yourself, Leon. We’re both suffering, and you’re making this harder for yourself.” Your voice was gentle and comforting. Even though you wanted to cry, you didn’t, because right now he needed someone to calm him down.
Leon started shaking his head. “I can’t lose you. I have to-"
“You don’t have to, and I promise you we’ll both get through this.” A small smile made its way onto your face. “The Leon Scott Kennedy I know always finds a way, and he has not once failed to save the day.”
Your husband could only look at your face as a tear ran down his cheek. “I love you, remember that, Mr. Kennedy.”
And he did. He always remembered it, even when he was now standing bloodied up, back in Raccoon City.
But this time with a smile on his face, as he was going to bring you the antidote.
