#fluff blurb

You’re already in bed, curled up in the sheets with a book half-open on your chest, pillows scattered onto the floor like you rearranged them and gave up halfway through.

He lets out this quiet, tired sigh when he sees you.

“Hey,” you murmur, setting the book aside right away. “Rough shift?”

He doesn’t answer at first, shrugging out of his jacket, slow and heavy, his bones made of lead, and crosses the room in that familiar way, straight to you, the only place he actually wants to be.

You sit up a little as he drops down onto the mattress beside you, not fully lying down yet, not wanting to get his dirty clothes on the sheets. You frown because his exhaustion is nearly palpable.

Night shifts at the ER have been doing a number on him lately. You can see it in the way his shoulders stay tight even when he’s finally off duty.

“Leon,” you say softly, shifting closer, “c’mere.”

He exhales and leans into you, like something in him finally gives permission to stop holding everything up. His head rests against your shoulder first, then fully he sinks into your arms. You wrap around him without thinking, one hand sliding into his hair, smoothing it back from his forehead. It’s messier than usual. He hasn’t had the energy to care.

“Bad night?” you ask gently.

“Had three codes,” he says quietly after another beat. “One was… little kid.” His voice cracks on kid, just for half a second, but it hits hard because Leon cares. He always cares, even when it hurts.

He swallows hard and presses closer without realizing it, seeking more of that warmth only you give him. You pull the blanket up over both of you, tucking it around his back, trying to keep the world out for a while. His breathing starts to slow the longer you hold him. You know he needs a shower, but you can worry about that later.

“I missed you,” you whisper after a moment, pressing a soft kiss to the top of his head. You need to talk about something else, something other than the loss.

That gets something out of him, barely a sound, more a breath that almost turns into a laugh but doesn’t quite make it. His hand finds the hem of your shirt, fingers curling there loosely, needing something to hold onto as he drifts to sleep.

“You should be proud of yourself, you know,” you murmur, brushing your thumb along his temple. “You work so hard. I know people don’t always see it, but I do.”

He shifts a little closer, face tucked into your neck now, hiding in the warmth of you. You smile faintly.

“And you’re kind,” you add, softer. “Even when you’re tired. Even when you’ve had one of those nights.”

Leon finally mumbles something into your skin, but it’s too muffled to make out.

“What was that, sweetheart?” you ask, leaning in.

“Stop,” he says, but it comes out quiet. Not sharp. Just embarrassed in that way he gets when you’re being too nice and he doesn’t know what to do with it.

You laugh, just a tiny, warm puff of breath against his hair, and kiss his forehead again because you love this version of Leon. The one who forgets how to be tough when he’s exhausted and tender with it.

“Stop what?” you tease gently, nudging your nose along the curve of his temple. “Telling the truth?”

He huffs again, that same flustered little noise from before, and finally turns just enough to press his face properly into your neck as if he can hide there forever. Lacing your fingers in his, you raise it to your mouth, and press a kiss to his hand.

His arms tighten around you slightly, still clumsy with fatigue, but it’s clear: he needs you. His breathing deepens as sleep threatens him more and more. You rest your cheek on top of his head and stay perfectly still, not wanting to disturb this fragile peace he’s earned.

“Get some rest, baby,” you murmur. “I’ll be here.”

x

Divider @designlikenonsense

Leon Kennedy blurbs

Leon kennedy taglist @yours-truly-andrea @xozoelivia @princesssugarplum

rafe turns his head and looks at you with his eyebrows furrowed and lifts a hand to rest on your back.

“hmm?” he hums in question. he sits up and rests his back against the headboard, shirtless in all his glory and his simple gold chain rests against his collarbones.

you ignore him and reach into your bedside table to grab your laptop. your fingers move relentlessly on the keyboard and before rafe can ask what you’re doing, he sees the infamous website homepage that you have grown so accustomed to.

Sonny Angel Store USA.

he smirks to himself and rolls his eyes. “jesus, baby.”

“don’t. even.” you say firmly. your attention is locked on your laptop screen, clicking away.

the sonny angel instagram page announced a restock of your favorite collection that had been sold out for months. you had to get your hands on as many as you could buy because there was no way you weren’t getting any.

“christ, my heart is literally pounding,” you said lowly, adrenaline running through your veins. “rafe, i swear to fuck. if i don’t get any of these, i’m going to kill myself with one of your guns.”

he laughs behind you, his hand rubbing gentle circles on your lower back until he moves and gets up from the bed.

you ignore him, not caring a single ounce of where he’s going. you spam-click the tiny little plus sign next to the quantity amount until the number stops changing, then clicking the ‘add to cart’ button.

your screen takes you to the checkout page, and you have never moved so fast in your life. you half sprint to the dresser and dig in your purse to look for your credit card, but you can’t find it.

“fuck.” you spit out. your arms are shaking, and you dump the entirety of your purse out onto the dresser. lipglosses, spare sonny’s, and gum wrappers tumble and fall from your purse and onto the floor.

you don’t realize the body standing next to you until a few seconds later. you look and there’s rafe, handing you his black amex between his middle and pointer fingers.

he just looks at you and shrugs, almost like a ‘what’s the problem?’ kind of look. you don’t give him a second look before taking the heavy card and rushing back to your side of the bed.

you furiously type in the card information, too much time already wasted, and click the ‘confirm purchase’ button. the screen loads and loads and after ten seconds, you see the ‘thank you for your purchase!’ screen.

you let out a yelp of happiness before hopping off the bed and wrap your arms around rafe’s neck.

“thank you, baby.” you say softly with a smile. you peck his lips and squeal, hugging him again.

“you act like i don’t buy them for you every time,” he says matter of factly. “still don’t know why you have a credit card when you have quite literally never had to use it with me.”

he wraps his arms around your back, his hands at the base of your spine. “either way, i’ll always take care of you, doll. weird toy obsessions and all.” he plops a chaste kiss on your lips with a playful smack to your ass.

you roll your eyes and move away from him. to the shelving unit right next to your vanity and it’s too full. you turn around slowly and look at your boyfriend who’s leaning against the doorframe and just waiting for you to ask.

“…. i think you’re gonna need to put another shelf up.”

bonus!

you’re sitting in the bathroom painting your toenails, soft music playing from your phone when rafe calls your name.

“hold on. gimme a minute.” you say. you cap the nail polish and wave your hands over your left foot, trying to get the paint to dry even though that’s physically impossible.

you check your phone and notice that it’s almost an hour later than when rafe usually gets home. you don’t think much of it; he’s been swamped at work, trying to get this one deal set and stone.

you waddle out of the bathroom and into the bedroom. you make your way to the bed, and sit down on the edge of it with your feet on the floor.

rafe is standing by the door with both of his hands behind his back, dressed in a sleek gray suit, red tie, gold rings on his hands, and a watch that looks about fifty years old but could easily pay your guys’s mortgage for half of a year.

“what’s going on?” you say. you squint your eyes a bit at him, wondering what he could be planning.

he shrugs and pulls a box out from behind his back. and it’s just a plain brown box. nothing out of the ordinary. it’s not small by any means, but it’s not a giant packing box either.

“got these for you. had ‘em shipped to the p.o. box that i use for work. didn’t want you to go peeking if it got delivered here.” he says simply.

he walks over to you and hands you the box, then moves to the bathroom to get undressed. acting like you got a random envelope in the mail talking about how you could save an extra fifty dollars this month if you signed up today for a new wifi plan.

you hear him taking off his clothes to get in the shower and open the brown box.

“rafe! what the fuck!” you yell excitedly. you sift through the box and it is full to the brim with fucking sonny angels. at least three hundred dollars worth, if not more. all different series, limited edition ones that haven’t been sold in a couple years. you do a quick mental count and you lost track after ten. it felt like the box was endless.

you drop the box on the floor, careful of your still drying toes, and half the box spills over the floor at your hurry. you walk into the bathroom and see the silhouette of rafe’s naked body through the fogged door of the shower.

he knows of your love for little collectibles, whether it’s sonny angels, miffy figures, smiskis, mofusand kitties, or even labubus. he always acts uninterested when you babble about rumors of a new series or how a new figurine is being made. but he loves how happy they make you and seeing you happy and joyful is the biggest thing that makes his heart grow fonder.

“rafe! what — when did you do that, what the hell?” you open the door a bit so he can hear you better. he pulls his face out from under the spray of water and wipes his face with his hand. then he steps towards you a bit.

“dunno. maybe like — couple weeks or so ago? even paid for fuckin’ express shipping, but they ended up coming today. so — sorry they’re late.” he gives a soft smile and reaches for his body wash.

you tear up because it means so much to you. like okay what the hell, they’re teeny tiny little naked baby figurines with different head coverings, what the fuck is so great about them?

it means a lot that he cares about your hobbies and interests and on his own accord, searched online to buy you more than you could ever ask for. just the initiation and attention to detail about something that truly means so little to others, but the world to you.

you sniffle and laugh. “hope you know that you’re opening each one with me.”

he groans and smiles, tipping his face back under the water. he gurgles a mouthful at the motion.

“yeah, yeah. whatever,” he responds. you close the door and make your way back to the bedroom when you hear,

“i’m telling you right now. if we open one and we get the fuckin’ mouse, i’m taking it for myself. don’t fuck with me.” he says firmly.

your mouth drops open. well, well, well.

♡ thinking about daryl out there in the cold, going around like a tiger in a cage that’s too small made you get a bit sad. wishing you could have gave him a kiss out the door or made sure he was actually warm and not feeling pins and needles made you make another cup. daryl never mentioned anything about how he liked it, let alone if he liked it.. but none the less you tried, however by the time it came to adding sweetener to the cheap bitter coffee there was barely any left. you’d decided that you’d let him chose which cup he wanted, tracking him down you’d surprise him and he would see just how much you loved him and not overwhelm him with all of your clingy hand holding and gooey love talk…

♡ daryl wasn’t exactly shocked you had followed him out, you never listened to him. what was a surprise was to him however was the two cups in your hand, what did you think this was.. a desk job drop off? he’d pause, taking a long look into your expecting eyes and take the cup that clearly had little to no sugar upon seeing how your hands clung to it just a bit tighter.. “one doesn’t have sugar… just didn’t know which you preferred.” you would say, half lying. he couldn’t stand to see your bottom lip quivering softly, clearly it was important to your sleepy brain. looking over at you with a hesitant, bordering shy, little look he would speak up. “don’t need no sugar… yer sweet enough, kay?” daryl would try and ignore any reaction coming out of you and turn away, drinking the nasty black coffee with his cheeks feeling all warm.

♡ to which you would gasp and bite down on your bottom lip trying to hide a very bright smile creeping up over your face. although you couldn’t stop yourself from teasing the man. “darylll… you think i’m sweet? awh my gosh, sweetheart.. i didn’t even knew you could flirt.” leaving daryl grumbling and trying to push you off of him, trying his hardest as well to not let any kind of emotion show on his face let alone a smile. “get off- damnit, stop..” “ain’t funny. ya make me sick.. i take it back.” giggles from you would be uncontrollable at this point not only from sleep deprivation but from the fact that you could very visibly see how flustered he was getting…

♡ the sweet sound of laughter made him turn softly, unable to resist the sight of his partner happy his own slight smirk showing. “ain’t too late for me to make ya switch.. careful” daryl couldn’t stand any kind of positive attention from you, feeling genuinely embarrassed about the fact he cares. you just looked so damn pitiful that you couldn’t make a decent cup of coffee for him, like it even mattered still but you tried hard for him. he couldn’t be a dick, couldn’t just ignore how hard you tried to show him ways you loved him. if he just shrugged you off when you came all the way out here in the cold just to sit by him and drink crap coffee he’d be just like his brother. he remembers the feeling of chasing after merle with bare feet on hot concrete with tears budding up in his eyes with a fishing pole too big for him as merle and his other older friends laughed and sped off on their bikes. people who don’t change don’t live and merle didn’t live, didn’t have a pretty thing like you that actually liked him either so he’d better act right even if it kills him sometimes…

♡ he allowed you to sit down in his leather jacket as he continued to drink his coffee, this had to be in silence that was the deal though. you could stay there cuddled up with a sweet drink and a pretty view as long as you acted right. the jacket well.. he saw goosebumps on your skin and said if you didn’t he’d drag you back to the house himself. daryl just tried so hard to still be tough, so up in his head and mixed up inside with what he was and wasn’t allowed to do. you guys were in public after all, didn’t matter if it was crack ass of dawn. anyone could have seen this and that gave him a weakness and someone in fact did see…

♡ it was later in the afternoon when daryl was helping wash up after lunch, he had caught some wild boar running around and gutted them in the kitchen but he left a mess and some ladies complained. carol was humming cheerfully while scrubbing soapy dishes, peeking over at daryl mopping up blood. “you know i was up on one of the posts today.. didn’t know you liked coffee, pookie. would have been making you cups of if i knew.”

♡ silence.. then the sound of the mop clattering on the floor, mopped dropped and angry little huffs came from daryl after he realized who the other person on the second tower was. the person he swore was sleeping but now he understood that it was the woman’s creepy trick. “shut yer mouth- ain’t cleaning no more, bye. your a sicko for watchin’ us.” carol wasn’t bothered, she was just happy he was letting someone take care of him.. “i’ll leave some sugar at your door! sweetheart,” to which daryl came back in from the doorway he had just walked out off and wiped his wet bloody boar and soap hands on the table in protest, letting his grumpy face be all the words he needed as carol started her teasing again. “just remember i liked you first. you tell them i said hi.” she thought it was funny but boy did you hear all about it later, red cheeks and all…