#I have a feeling it's going to be very romantic & sentimental | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

always-just-red · 5 months ago

Note

Please make a story that zayne is very clingy, sweet , romantic

For Mc

Pretty please

Make it long

Please

Need a food 🥺

Food is served!! (One of these days you guys are gonna see an 'only accepting requests for Rafayel now' post and it'll be Raf hijacking my computer because WHY WAS I CATCHING FEELINGS FOR ZAYNE WHILE WRITING THIS??)

Doctor's Orders

Zayne x Reader ❄

Summary: Zayne has suggested you skip work today, which isn't suspicious at all...

Genre: Fluff (with a *pinch* of angst)

Warnings/Additional tags: gn!reader, established relationship, some kisses, some mentions of death (just a real mixed bag, you know?)

| Word count: 2k | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

“Do you really have to go?”

Zayne was a lot of things: caring, even doting, but never normally this… clingy.

You pretend not to hear the question, feeling the weight of his eyes on your back as you get ready to leave. You will answer it— you’re not ignoring him— but you have so much to do, and you’ve answered it three times already. Yes, Zayne. It’s work. You finish lacing your boots. And no, Zayne, I can’t get out of it.

And since when was he an advocate for skipping a shift, anyway? Like blood from a stone, he’d calmly pleaded with you to come up with some sort of excuse and you’d stared back, eyes wide, because you didn’t know stones could bleed.

An excuse? You’d repeated in disbelief.

Yes. You could… tell them you’re sick? I could write you a note.

You’d thought it a joke until he drew out a pen and started scrawling something on the nearest scrap of paper. He’d pushed it into your hands, his gaze earnest, as though he were trusting a co-conspirator. Here, he’d said matter-of-factly, you can give it to your captain tomorrow.

The writing was barely legible.

It’s still crinkling in your pocket now: your little ‘get-out-of-your-Sunday-shift-free’ card, courtesy of Doctor Zayne, and yes, you are going to hold onto it, but it’s not for Jenna. It’s for your apartment wall, where you’ll be mounting it in a golden frame, because absolutely no-one is going to believe you when you tell this story.

You collect your guns from a nearby drawer, checking the sights and the safety on each before holstering them at your sides. “The sooner I leave, the sooner I’ll get back,” you shrug.

A nice sentiment— not entirely true. “Or you could stay.” Zayne is looking at your weapons, not you.

He’s sat at the kitchen table, watching you over an untouched breakfast. Yours also sits around him: plates upon plates of every food you could imagine, warm and cold, savoury and sweet. You’d suffered a brief heart attack when you’d first laid eyes on it, presuming you’d forgotten some occasion or another.

There’s even a vase of fresh flowers, flourishing at the centre of it all.

It’s one of the most romantic things you’ve ever seen, but you’re starting to think that’s the point. Like a hand on your heart, squeezing; it’s urging you to sit back down, to relax, to surrender and let him take care of you. Are you the worst person in the world? It feels like you are.

Ready to take on anything but more of his gaze, you return to the table, fully-armed, and pluck a strawberry from the edge of a plate. You pop it into your mouth, savouring its sweetness as you stroll behind Zayne’s chair. “Try not to worry,” you mumble, resting your hand on his shoulder while you lean in to kiss his cheek. “Ok?”

“Ok.”

You go to pull away, but his hand lands on your hand, anchoring you to him. His fingers wrap around your wrist, lifting, guiding your fingers in front of his mouth so he can press a few, brisk kisses to each. Your heart is in a vice again— tightening with every brush of his lips. You can’t take it. You can’t.

He knows, and he’s turning in the chair, slipping his free hand around your waist and tugging until you’re crushed up against him. “Stay. Please?” his voice entreats. You can barely hear it from where his face is nestled into you.

You have to remind yourself to breathe, and you sigh as your hands move to cradle his head and run your fingers through his hair. You want to enjoy this. Why can’t you enjoy this?

His breath is fanning against you and all you can think about is the fact that he’s making you late.

…

You’re marching to headquarters twice as quickly as usual, and you’ve crashed into three people already. Every time there’s been an impulse to scream “get out of the way!” but you’re wearing your uniform, so you have to apologise, smile sweetly, and pretend you’re not one incident away from turning in your badge and leaving them all to fend for themselves.

Someone steps out in front of you and you have to swerve to miss them, almost dropping your phone in the process. It had just started ringing, and the noise persists as you fumble with it.

“Hello?” you answer, putting it to one ear as you plug the other with a finger.

“Hi!” It’s Greyson, finally, and he’s surprisingly chipper for someone you know is just coming off of his graveyard shift. “I saw your texts. Is everything ok?”

“Yeah! Thanks for calling. It’s just…” Everything’s too noisy for you to concentrate, and you’re still essentially running an obstacle course. You peel away from the crowd, ducking into the quiet of an alley. “I’m a little worried about Zayne. He’s been acting weird all weekend, ever since—”

“Friday?”

“Yeah.” That couldn’t mean anything good. Your brow furrows. “Did something happen?”

A drawn-out sigh makes it through the phone, and you know Greyson well enough to know he’s pinching the bridge of his nose, wondering just how much he should tell you. “We had a patient transferred to us on Friday,” he caves, “a young woman— a hunter, injured— she was… not in a good way. Recovery odds next to zero, but Zayne? You know Zayne. He had to try.”

You nod, even though Greyson can’t see it. There’s dread in the pit of your stomach; you can tell where this is going.

“She didn’t make it,” he states with the rehearsed evenness of someone who’s spoken the words too many times before. There’s another sigh, then he hastens to add: “Zayne was incredible, though— he did everything he could, really. He was her best chance, he just… wasn’t enough. You can’t save everyone, you know?” He chuckles awkwardly. “Yeah, you know.”

And you do: you’re just as haunted by that truth and all of its ghosts. “Yeah,” you speak at last, seeing their faces. Your throat hurts. “Thanks, Greyson. Really.”

“That’s ok,” he yawns. “If Zayne asks, you didn’t hear it from me.”

“You think he’s gonna believe that?”

“No.” He’s smiling, now— you can tell. “But it’s worth a try! You take care of yourself, ok?”

“You too. Thanks again.”

“Any time.”

…

You’ve only been gone for half an hour, but Zayne is fast asleep. Though you’d practically burst through the front door, his head is still lowered— dipping over an open medical journal— and his dark hair has fallen over his eyes. You can’t help but smile. This wasn’t the nervous, pacing-the-apartment man you’d expected to find, but it eases the guilt in your chest for the first time all morning.

You sling your bag from your shoulder and set it gently down on the floor, all the while easing the door closed behind you. You unfasten your holsters. Shrug yourself free of all their straps. You don’t make a sound; you’re being very careful.

Slowly, you make your way over to where Zayne’s lying on the sofa. You lower yourself to his level, reaching to pry his book from his fingers. His glasses are next: you ease them from his face like you’re handling a volatile protocore. Your breath is baited. Your hands almost shake, but you’re an expert at this sort of extraction: you’ve done it a hundred times before.

With your mission accomplished, you allow yourself one small reward. You want to see his face— all of his face— so you card your fingers through his fallen hair, smoothing it back into place. He looks like a dream: the kind you’re glad to carry through daylight, long after you wake. The kind you write down for fear of forgetting a single detail.

You want this, this, this. Every morning. For the rest of your life.

And maybe even the next life. Is that possible?

(You hope it’s possible.)

Standing softly, you smile again— a smile between you and the universe, the gods, and the night sky, in all its infinity. There are things you cannot know and even more things you cannot have, but you are more than content with your consolation prize. This:

One minute of peace, for you and your doctor.

You have a funny feeling this is more than you were ever meant to have.

When your minute is through, you watch as Zayne’s face changes, and he is no longer at peace. He frowns, his whole body suddenly tense. There’s a murmur of… pain? It sounds like pain— he winces like it’s pain. He doesn’t tell you where he goes, but you wish you could hold his hand and make a breakfast big enough to keep him from going there.

“Zayne,” you whisper, resting a warm palm on his cheek. A little louder: “Zayne.”

He stirs in his sleep as your voice brings him back to reality. He’s yours— yours— and the inevitable can have him later. Sure enough, his eyes flutter open, lost for a moment, but then? Home. Safe. With you.

“Hey,” you grin.

He squints against the daylight. “Hmm? Oh. What are you doing back so soon?”

You scoff. “Some doctor you are! I’m at death’s door— can’t you tell?” Your hand leaves his cheek, indicating your not-pallid skin, not-flushed cheeks, and not-sunken eyes with a wave. Then you find his hand, pressing his fingers to your forehead.

There’s a second of hesitation. “Ah,” he says warily, “yes, you’re… burning up.”

“Right?!”

Despite the severity of your condition, you find the strength to clamber on top of him. It’s anything but graceful, and he groans as you shift and fidget, taking your time getting comfortable. Eventually you settle, your head resting against his chest and his arms holding you close. You’re not tired, but you close your eyes, and this is so much better than patrolling for Wanderers.

He draws you higher so his chin can rest on the top of your head. “Greyson told you, didn’t he?” he ventures aloud, because he’s awake, now, so he’s connecting dots.

“Yeah,” you nod against him. “But if he asks, I said it was Yvonne, ok?”

There’s a hum of agreement, then he’s silent. Thinking again. “I’m sorry,” he finally speaks.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for. It’s sweet that you worry. You don’t need to—”

“No,” he stops you. “I care about you a lot, and I’ll never apologise for that. What I am sorry for, however, is that a romantic gesture from me is so unusual that you feel you have to call my colleagues. I know I’m not always outwardly affectionate, but—”

“No.” It’s your turn now, and you twist, angling yourself so you can look up into his eyes. “You always make me feel loved, Zayne. Everything you do, everything you say… it’s for me, and no-one has ever cared about me like that. No-one has ever showed me they care like that.”

“Then why—”

“Because you get it, Zayne— the importance of what I do, because it’s what you do, even if it’s different. We’re both saving the world a little, right?”

“Right.”

You draw out his doctor’s note and shimmy it in front of his eyes. “So what the hell is this?”

He admits guilt with a chuckle, his hand moving to catch the evidence, but you’re one step ahead, stashing it back into the sanctity of your pocket. He issues a short hmph, defeated.

“Come on,” you prompt, escaping his arms. “Let’s not let all that food go to waste. You kept it, yeah? I’ve been dreaming about those chocolate-chip pancakes since I left.”

Zayne had been helping you up, but he slumps back as you finish your sentence. “Oh.”

“Oh?”

“Oh,” he confirms with the trademark nod of a doctor, and it can only mean one thing:

You’re about to receive some very, very bad news.

#🖋rach is actually writing #zayne x reader #zayne #love and deepspace #lads zayne #lnds zayne #l&ds zayne #li shen #lads x reader #zayne x mc #lads #lnds #l&ds

813 notes · View notes

explorevenus · 2 months ago

Text

my soul to keep ♡ vampire!leon kennedy x virgin!reader

nsfw (18+) - minors. dni or i will call ur mom. and also the cops

word count: 6.4k

tags/warnings: romantic vampire leon, virgin/innocent f!reader, leon turns reader into a vampire, some religious allegory, bloodplay (obviously), gravedigging, some gory descriptions but not a whole lot, one instance of overeating (reader's learning, leave her alone </3), manipulation kinda, praise, fingering, p in v, creampie

description: leon creeps into your village at night for a quick drink, only to find himself infatuated with an angel like you. it's a good thing he possesses the means to preserve you for himself.

a/n: yes this is the vampire leon fic i started like a year ago don't look at me <33 i'm just proud of myself for getting it finished before halloween this year AAAAAAAA

divider by @saradika-graphics !!!!

my masterlist ♡

my ao3 ♡

fic under the cut, thanks so much for reading and i hope u enjoy ;w;

-venus ♡

The last time Leon remembered feeling this alive, well… he was still living, and that was a long time ago. When lonely and undead as long as Leon has been, it can be difficult to show restraint upon first contact with anything that evokes such emotion.

But he did, for a while. You were just too cute, he thought as he stood over your slumbering body that first night. It wasn’t something he liked to make a habit of, but a light hunting season for him meant starvation through the winter, and he didn’t have much choice but to go wandering into the nearby little village for a quick bite to eat.

Until he found you.

You looked like a cherub sleeping there in your plush little bed, buried beneath a quilt he could only assume you made yourself. Precious, fragile. You looked especially fragile.

And humans are so fragile, he thought. You smelled so sweet, it made his teeth ache just standing there staring at you without acting upon his festering need to sate his appetite, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He didn’t want to scare you, or worse, lose control of himself and kill you.

He wandered silently around your little cottage in hopes of learning more about you. It was tidy but lived in, well-kept in a way that made him think you were probably a good homemaker. Your old leather boots sat by the door, dirtied by years of garden work and general wear. There was a little handmade ceramic candle holder on your bedside table, the candle in it burned nearly down to the base, and he wondered if maybe you’d held onto it because the piece was sentimental to you. Carefully arranged bouquets of flowers were strung together and hung up above the cracked window, likely to dry them out and preserve them.

And suddenly he realized that maybe he would like to preserve a flower for himself.

He couldn’t allow himself to feed from anyone in your village that night. If word spread around about a vicious animal attack or some other form of brutality, it would only hinder his ability to ultimately get to you, and he couldn’t risk that. Weak and delirious and ravenously hungry as he was, Leon forced himself to bid you adieu and stalk off into the night, back to his crumbling old castle in the middle of the woods… but not before leaving you a gift.

His gift. The gift.

Your lips parted in a dreamy sigh as you slept, rolling over onto your back. He admired your face for a moment before he couldn’t take it anymore— if he didn’t leave now, you were going to become dinner, and he couldn’t have that. Hastily, he bit down on the meat of his palm and squeezed, watching as his old crimson blood bubbled up to the surface, and then he held it up over you.

Drip. Right between your rosy, plush lips. Even in your slumber your face scrunched up at the foreign taste, your heavy arm coming up to swipe at yourself like you were just trying to get your hair out of your eyes.

And just like that, he was gone, having taken his leave through the very same open window that gave him the idea.

He wasn’t a monster, of course. He kept an eye on you as you experienced the very same pain he felt decades ago.

The next day, you woke up later than usual feeling quite lousy. Your whole body was sore and weighty and, reasonably enough, you chalked it up to poor form while tending your garden the day before. It was an easy mistake to make from time to time, after all. But as the day dragged on, you only felt worse, so you retired to bed right after supper that evening.

The day after that, you woke up in the early afternoon feeling awful. Your head was screaming with a migraine and your heart was beating slow and hard in your chest. You were sweating and shaking and could barely even open your eyes because the light hurt so bad. A friend stopped in to check on you after noticing how late of a start to the day you were getting, and almost as soon as she stepped in the door, she was rushing back out to the apothecary, begging the village healer to come check on you.

The village healer loaded you up with tricks and tinctures and anything she could think of to break your fever or at least ease your pain. Dried herbs and poppyseeds and fungus ground up in the mortar and pestle, the paste slathered under your nose, on the bottoms of your feet, steeped into tea that was too hot for you to drink. None of it worked. At a loss for advice to give, the village healer urged you to drink plenty of water and rest, and to quarantine yourself. Couldn’t risk passing whatever you had to the rest of the community.

You woke up drenched in sweat in the middle of the night and didn’t even have time to throw your quilt aside as you doubled over the side of your bed and vomited. This continued for a few moments until you could barely breathe, tears dripping from your eyes as your face reddened with strain and you inwardly resented yourself, knowing you would have to drag your sick body out of bed to clean up the mess you’d just made. You struck a match and lit the candle at your bedside and hesitantly peered down to survey the damage, only to be met with the image of your beautiful wooden floors drenched in blood. Reaching up to wipe your mouth with the back of your hand yielded the same result.

As you stared at your own blood in horror, Leon stared at you in adoration from the other side of the window. For a moment your bleary eyes caught on the glass and he wondered if you saw him, but if you did, you didn’t react.

Even at a distance he could hear your heartbeat continuing to weaken. Soon enough you would be just like him, a beautiful preserved flower, and better yet, you couldn’t be harmed. You wouldn’t change, you wouldn’t grow, you wouldn’t die.

Although your village certainly thought you did. It was a dreary, overcast day when the village healer decided to stop in and check on you, only to find you completely lifeless and splattered with blood where you laid. She had to be the one to break it to your family that you had lost your battle with whatever illness plagued you. Leon watched from the shadows as your father lifted your limp, blood-soaked body from your bed and held you close, sobbing, hesitating to admit to himself that you were gone.

By the end of the afternoon, as the sun went down and the drizzling rain refused to let up, the entire village was standing over your grave, watching you get lowered into the soft, soggy ground.

Once everyone had paid their respects, Leon watched them all retreat to share a drink in your honor, hushed whispers revealing just how unsettled everyone was by your untimely demise. You were so young, they said, so bright and healthy and undeserving of your fate. They wondered what it meant for themselves, and only Leon knew it didn’t mean anything at all. Your illness wasn’t going to spread because he had what he wanted now, and that was you.

As soon as the final candle was blown out for the night, Leon took a shovel from your garden and began to dig, the metal piercing easily through the soaked earth until it revealed the handmade box you’d been laid to rest in. He popped the top off and looked at you, your arms still crossed delicately over your chest with a beaded rosary tucked beneath your palms, a pale flower in your hair. Your family didn’t need to know they’d be spending the rest of their lives praying over an empty coffin in the ground.

Leon scooped you up into his arms, cleaned up after himself and set off into the woods with you clutched to his chest like a princess.

It was a few days before you finally roused. Leon had barely taken his eyes off of you the entire time you slept, and admittedly, he was a bit grateful it had taken you so long, for your own sake. He watched over you and cared for you as the last of your body heat drained out and your fangs descended behind your lips. From what he remembered, that was the most painful part of the transformation, and you were lucky to have slept through the worst of it.

When your eyes finally shot open, he could barely contain his excitement. In one swift movement you sat up on the couch, bringing one hand up to clutch at your pounding head, the other massaging your sore jaw as your worried eyes darted around the room to drink in your surroundings. Then and only then did your gaze finally land on Leon.

The fright and confusion on your face were evident. He knew you would have a lot of questions, and he was prepared to answer them.

“There you are, darling,” he greeted you warmly, the first words he’d ever spoken to you. “How are you feeling?”

"W-Where am I?" You rasped, throat sore and shot from vomiting up blood the other day. Once your new condition fully set in, you would heal, but for now you were still a touch miserable. "Who are you?"

“I’m Leon,” he was gentle in introducing himself, taking your cold, shaking hand in his own so he could brush a polite kiss over your knuckles, “and this is your new home.”

You blinked slowly at him, brows furrowed as you mulled over what he meant, and you came up short. Tears welled up in your bloodshot eyes and you hesitated for a moment before asking him a question you were afraid to know the answer to; “Am I… Did I die?”

Leon wasn’t quite sure how to answer that at first. He imagined that question being posed much later in the conversation, so it sort of caught him off guard. He took a breath and then replied gently, “Something like that, yes.”

“Huh?”

“Shh, don’t worry,” he whispered, kneeling on the floor beside the couch so he could get on your level, his cold, pale fingers tracing gently over your lifeless skin. “You’re safe, your family is safe, your village is safe. I’m just here to take care of you, my beloved, to guide you in this tricky space between life and death. Do you trust me?”

Strangely enough, you did-- or, rather, you felt compelled to.

But that didn’t make the implications of your condition any easier on you. You were such a frightened little lamb, your cheeks hollowing and your eyes glowing like rubies and your skin tone taking on more and more of a pallid quality by the day as you refused to feed. He knew you would have some difficulty with this at first— after all, you were just far too sweet to kill anything— but he also knew you would only become weaker and more agitated if you continued to starve, and perhaps more grim, you would remain stuck in this odd limbo between death and vampirism.

He tried everything he could think of. You wouldn’t drink animal blood, from the body or in a glass, and you certainly refused human blood in either form too. Every time he broached the topic of sating your hunger you would cower away from him and shake your head, eyes screwed shut as you continued to deny the reality of your situation. Starvation brought forth only misery, that much Leon knew, misery and longing and weakness and worse, everything he didn’t want for you.

For two weeks you pushed back on the topic, insisting that if you couldn’t truly die, you would rather starve than take the life of another. As much as it pained him to see you this way, Leon appreciated that you could be so stubborn about your morals. He just wished it wouldn’t come at the cost of your own well-being.

He left you at the castle one night to go hunting himself. It wasn’t often he’d stumble into humans in these woods, especially during the winter, but he hoped he would get lucky for himself anyway. Leon burned a few hours stalking through the trees and all he had to show for it when he returned home was a few small animals that wouldn't last him more than two light meals, but it was better than nothing, he thought.

Then he stepped through the creaking castle doors and his nose perked up to the familiar rich scent of human blood-- thick and heady in the air, cloyingly sweet and indulgent. Intoxicated by it for the moment, it didn’t really dawn on him immediately what that meant… until he followed the scent from the foyer to the living room and found you.

You were on your knees in front of the fireplace, hunched over the writhing body of the village healer, her eyes wide and glassy as she choked out gurgled sounds of agony and clawed weakly at you to let her go. You didn’t even seem to notice Leon as he entered the room, a concerned grimace on his face, though it was accompanied by a tangible sense of relief that you were finally feeding.

“Sweetheart,” he said lowly, causing you to blink with confusion and look up at him through your lashes, the poor village healer’s carotid still clenched tightly between your teeth. “Easy now, you’ll make yourself sick.”

Your brows furrowed and you bit down a little bit harder, siphoning out a few final greedy gulps from the woman before dropping her from your grasp, your eyes still trained on Leon as her weak body flopped limply to the floor. His eyes softened with empathy as he looked you over, gore dribbling down your chin and the front of your white dress, your stomach puffy like an engorged tick. Now that you weren’t feeding anymore it would seem you made the same realization he had, the fog of desire clearing in your brain to make room for the shame and discomfort. With a soft whimper, you reached for him with both arms outstretched, but otherwise didn’t move.

Leon gave you a nod of understanding before scooping you up into his arms, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead as he carried you out of the parlor. “My poor baby,” he sighed softly, “It gets easier, I promise. I’m so proud of you.”

He ran a hot bath for you and left you to soak for a while as he got to work cleaning up the mess you’d made. The village healer was barely clinging to what remained of her life, and while he was extremely tempted to nurse her back to health and keep her around to continue feeding on, he knew it would hurt you. He could already tell you hated yourself for victimizing her in the first place, the very same woman who’d tried so hard to save your life just weeks ago and who was responsible for ensuring the health of the entire village, which included your friends and family.

So he mopped up the blood, bottled what he could and wrapped her wounds to the best of his ability before compelling her to forget, dumping her just at the edge of the trees outside the village so someone would find her in the morning.

When he returned again, tired and dirtied from hauling an unconscious woman through the woods on your behalf, you were still relaxing in the tub. The water was tinted pink from all the blood and you still looked a bit swollen in the middle, but the color was returning to your skin and the expression on your face was one of such complete exhaustion that he wasn’t sure if you were actually conscious at first, until your gaze fluttered up to meet his.

Leon let out a deep, sweet sigh, sitting on the bench beside the porcelain clawfoot bath as he took your hand in his and whispered, “What am I going to do with you, huh?”

“I-I’m sorry,” you said just as quietly, bottom lip quivering as you continued to drift back down from your blood-induced daze. “I d-didn’t want to h-hurt her…”

“Shh, shh, I know, darling,” his other hand came forward to pet gently through your wet hair. “She’s going to be alright, I made sure of that. But this can’t happen again, okay? I’ll help you get control of your urges, I promise, but you have to listen to me.”

You were nodding along as he spoke, clutching his hand and shivering in the hot bath. Even transformed you were still fragile. Leon wanted nothing more than to care for you like the fine china you were.

It was fun watching you learn how to walk, so to speak. You were like a baby deer, taking careful steps and looking back at him for reassurance after each one, like his guidance was all you could think to cling to. While your gingerly approach to things was incredibly endearing, he loved watching you grow to love your new abilities with an innocent sense of excitement that he hadn’t seen in a long time, not in himself or in anyone else, really.

You’d taken to exploring the rafters and the view of things from the ceiling, leaving the candles in your room unlit all night just so you could bask in how odd and cool it felt to see so well in the dark. It scared the moonlight out of him every time, when he would scour every inch of the castle in search of you just to find you perched criss-cross on the ceiling, lost in a lengthy novel in a pitch black room.

But he would never scold you, never tell you ‘no.’ In his mind that was a very important lesson for you to learn, one that would open you up to endless possibilities and happiness in an otherwise bleak state of consciousness.

So, when your small voice chimed in from the parlor ceiling one night and startled him more than he’d like to admit, and you asked him a deceptively simple question– “What now?”-- he knew exactly how he wanted to respond.

“Indulge,” he said just as simply, sitting calmly down on the chaise lounge to look up at you, hanging from the rafters by your knees. “Let me ask you this. What’s something you’ve always wanted to do?”

You took pause, humming in thought for a moment. All your life you were never much of a forward thinker because you didn't really have to be. You lived your little old life moment by moment, taking extra special care to appreciate the here and now. You had good friends, a loving family, a beautiful community, food on your plate and a warm bed to return home to every night. That didn’t leave you wanting for much.

Finally, you spoke shyly, "I guess I always wanted to fall in love."

It was so quiet, if he was still human, he wouldn’t have heard you. But he wasn’t, and he did. The corner of his lip tugged up into an endeared and somewhat amused expression, baring the sharp edge of his right canine.

Leon adjusted his posture, sinking back into the couch to gaze up at you, trying to pretend like he wasn’t looking between your legs where your upside-down position left your skirt flipped up nearly to your waist. He cleared his throat softly and cooed, “You poor thing, you’ve never loved before?”

Your face burned and you avoided his eyes, stretching your arms out toward the floor just to give yourself something to do. “N-No,” you began, smoothing your skirt out over your thighs just to watch it ride up again. With a short huff of breath you pulled yourself back up into a normal sitting position on the rafters, staring up at the ceiling. “I guess I just never had the chance.”

“What, not enough fish in your little pond?” He teased, quirking an eyebrow at you.

You laughed, appreciating the way he eased the tension, but he wasn’t exactly wrong. “I mean, yeah, the dating pool made for a better puddle.”

“I figured as much.”

A comfortable silence blanketed over the parlor, broken only by the gentle crackling of the fireplace. You swung your feet idly back and forth, watching the warm flame as you asked aloud, “So… What does it feel like, then?”

“What does what feel like?” He responded, but he knew what you meant. He just wanted to hear you say it.

“Y’know…” You kicked your frilly socked feet, “Love?”

“Well, sweetheart, that’s quite a broad question,” Leon began, patting the space next to him in an attempt to beckon you down from the rafters, and to his delight, the gesture succeeded. You dropped gracefully to the ground and fixed your skirt before curling up beside him on the other side of the couch, your legs tucked up beneath you. You couldn’t possibly be more adorable if you tried.

As you situated yourself at his side, he continued, “There are many different kinds of love. You love your family, and you love your friends, but you don’t love your family in the same way you love your friends, and vice versa. Correct?"

He watched your expression for a moment to ensure you were following along, and surely enough, you were. Your posture was relaxed but you remained dutifully at attention, just like a good little doll should.

Leon felt a pang of pride when you nodded.

“It’s the same thing, just a different kind of love. I’m not sure I know how to describe it, really,” he said, tracing his fingertips along your knee casually. “But I could show you?”

“Show me?” Your head tilted with that innocent curiosity he loved so much about you, and his heart melted all over again. “Show me how?”

He said something lowly and it took you a second to register it because right after, he took your chin in his hand and drew you in for a kiss. Only after your lips collided did your brain recognize his words as, ‘Like this.’

With one hand cradling the back of your head and the other still tracing little shapes on your leg, Leon’s embrace felt all-consuming and overwhelmingly safe. Through it all, you really did trust him. Your fangs knocked together as he pulled you closer to deepen the kiss, making your head spin and your brows furrow in concentration. It felt incredible, unlike anything you’d ever experienced before, but the nerves kept you tense and you couldn’t help but fear you were doing a poor job.

So you let him lead. You resigned yourself to the feeling of his cold lips on your own and his tongue exploring your waiting mouth, his broad hands keeping you pressed against him and feeling slowly up the length of your thigh. His touch made you shiver and tingle in unfamiliar but exhilarating ways and when he eventually pulled away, you were left panting for breath and wanting for more.

He watched your face in an attempt to gauge how you were feeling, and it was evident you enjoyed it. Leon felt a rush knowing he had effectively just turned a new leaf in your training.

You had finally learned to walk. Now it was time for you to sprint.

Leon brushed your hair away from your shoulder, baring your neck to him. He’d waited so long for this moment, for the chance to sink his teeth into you. He wished he could have tasted you fresh, when you were still living, but he would settle for the alternative, and truthfully, it didn't even feel like settling. Especially not when your syrupy sweet blood hit his tongue and pulled a deep, guttural moan from the core of him, his pearlescent eyes rolling back in a display of momentarily mindless rapture. It was unexpectedly hot to see him react to you in such a way. No one had ever expressed such intense need for you, and you were so hung up on it that you barely noticed your thighs subtly shifting together.

But Leon was observant as ever, of course, the movement in no way making it past his keen attention-- you were too precious, too virginal for your own good. He wanted to ruin you, he wanted to tear you apart piece by piece and savor you like holy communion, to pump your undead heart with his own two hands until the end of time, his beautiful baby, his fragile little doll, his corpse bride, his darling and beloved consort.

You were both gasping for breath as he pulled away from your throat, remnants of your tart cherry blood smudged around his pallid lips. Blessed be the gift of undeath, Leon thought to himself, for it granted him the ability to feed from you without consequence-- and vice versa-- to strengthen your bond in the most intimate way imaginable time and time and time again. It still made you dizzy, of course, light and a bit tingly all over, but Leon didn't see that as a bad thing, and as it stood, you didn't seem to either.

He was just trying to come up with a smooth way to tempt you into tasting his own blood, but found himself pleasantly surprised by your initiative.

"Can I try?" You practically purred, your sweet voice all hushed and breathy as your dainty little hand crept up his shoulder, palm coming to rest at the leftmost side of his strong neck.

As you caressed the pad of your thumb over the icy expanse of his skin, you couldn't help but notice the faint, scarred over marks that were dotted about, barely-there dips and craters telling a story that suggested decades of indulgence like this, decades of past lovers, and your heart inexplicably clenched in your chest. Suddenly you were overtaken with the desire to leave your own mark there, much more prominent and recent than any of those faded old others.

Leon was quick to give you his consent, of course, and that was all it took for your mind to snap into a completely different mode of function. The highest points of your mouth were flooding with saliva and the lowest points were pooling with it, slicking your puffy lips as your tongue fell forward to drag a deep, wanton lick up the length of his cold carotid. Then, as anticipated, you helped yourself to a healthy bite of him.

And just like that, you had discovered a new infatuation, as he knew you would. You were bonding yourselves to one another in real time, creating a connection that not even true death could break.

You nearly went weak with how overwhelming it felt, like drinking down pure heaven, hardly even noticing you were moving for a moment as you crawled mindlessly into his lap to straddle him, grinding deep and slow. The pheromones in his sap made your head spin, bringing about the kind of spontaneous sensuality that you'd only ever felt after one too many glasses of mead, the kind that loosened your bones and tinged at your cheeks, the kind that called warmth to bloom at the pit of your stomach.

The flavor of him was coppery and rich, but balanced, a bit dull from undeath but otherwise magnificent. That it was faint only made you want for more.

"Easy, easy," Leon grunted quietly in your ear, reaching a hand up to card through your hair at the back of your head. "Don't drink too fast, little princess... just breathe..."

But it would seem you weren't really listening to him, and that needed to change. Thankfully, Leon knew just the way to grasp your attention.

Letting one arm slip between your two bodies, he wedged his hand down, down, down, until it dipped beneath your skirt to close his palm over the sticky cotton of your panties. That you were already leaking through the fabric like a busted faucet was perfect. You were an absolutely perfect little untouched virgin, and thanks to him, your body would remain that way forever, ripe for his plucking.

Bringing down some pressure on your clit with the base of his palm, testing your reaction, he reveled in the way you whimpered on his throat and unlatched to finally suck in a breath, rutting to meet his attention without a second thought, so easily captivated by such slight stimulation. He couldn't wait to show you more, but he'd need to work you open first. He didn't want your first time to be painful, after all.

Leon took you at the waist and moved to put you on your back, hovering above your spread out form on the chaise lounge and pinning you there in the most delicate way possible. Every bit of that attention to detail paid off.

"My precious doll... my most delicate princess," he sighed reverently, stooping low to breathe you in at the neck again, laving his tongue over the bite he'd left just moments ago. "This is what true love feels like, and I wish to share it with you for eternity..."

He let you ponder that as he continued, working you carefully out of your clothes, finding it cute how you seemed to shift and arch along with him to help him get you naked, like you just couldn't wait. In your pretty doe eyes, your undead life had just begun.

It was a bit strange at first, feeling his finger sink into you, but it wasn't long before Leon was seeking out your soft spots and doing an excellent job of it, no less. He curled and pumped one finger carefully in you until he was sure you were comfortable, until he felt any remaining tension in your muscles melt away, and then he introduced a second. You were so wet and so absorbed by the feeling of it all that you almost didn't notice at first, but that delicious stretch was impossible to miss.

"O-Oh," you quivered, head falling back against the plush velvet beneath you as you bucked into his hand.

With an appreciative hum, Leon allowed himself to become a little less careful with his ministrations, watching your reactions with interest as he worked you open on his fingers, his infatuation with you growing more and more with every moan and whine, every flutter of your silky walls.

"There you go, little one," he cooed, "you like that, don't you?"

Your response was barely more than an airy nod, but it delighted him anyway. How could it not? You were just too sweet for words, too cute to handle. You could've done or said anything in that moment and he would have adored it all the same.

Nipping playfully at your throat, fingers still pumping dutifully in and out of your drippy cunt, his lips trailed up to your ear so he could ask in a sultry whisper, "Think you can take more?"

The next several seconds were a blur of impassioned movement, each of you weaving around one another to shed the elder vampire of his own ensemble, revealing his carved marble frame piece-by-piece. You were amazed by the strength in his shoulders, how smooth and soft his skin was from being kept away from the sun for so long, the dark blonde trail of hair that disappeared below his belt, only for its path to be revealed upon the long-awaited removal of his trousers.

Leon's cock was painfully hard, tip flushed red and weeping with milky beads of precum as he freed himself from his confines at last. He felt the intense need to give it a few strokes with how pent up he was at this point, but he didn't see a point in wasting any time pleasuring himself when you were right there, skirt hiked up to your waist while you laid there panting and leaking your arousal all over his nice furniture. With a pout that pretty, it would be a disservice not to fuck you until you cried.

He angled your hips with one hand and lined himself up with the other, pushing in slowly. Your expression screwed tight for a short moment as the swollen head of him caught at your hole, an opportune moment of distraction for him to sink in deeper, stretching you out until he hit the root, drawing a shocked cry from your throat that gave way to a pleasured whine just as quickly as it came.

So he began to move, wanting to draw out that gorgeous sound for as long as you would allow him to hear it. Your cunt was so fucking tight, pulsing and squeezing around his shaft like you were made for it, made for him, delivered to him by fate so that he might just get to fuck you like this forever and ever, and in that moment, he knew he made the right choice in sharing his gift with you. For the first time in recent memory, the future felt bright.

"L... L-Leon..." You babbled, hooking one leg over his hip for purchase just to find out it allowed him to prod that much deeper. You went boneless at the feeling, finding strength only in your ability to claw at his shoulders for dear life, the faint scent of his blood lingering in the air and making your head spin. "Feels... g-good... so good... don't stop..."

He wouldn't dream of it.

Fingertips printing into your thighs, he pulled your legs up to rest over his shoulders instead, driving you down into the soft couch in a firm mating press. You were nose to nose, needy lips catching and fangs clacking between filthy words and gasps for breath as you felt his presence envelope you fully. Leon was in you, on you, around you...

Leon was your home now. Leon was where you laid to rest.

For the first time in your undead life, you felt your body licking with heat, temperature rising steadily at the pit of you and threatening to hit a fever pitch. Every inch of him lit you up from the inside.

"Oh, my baby," he groaned, letting go of you with one hand just to swipe his silvery blonde hair away from his face so he could gaze at you like a work of art. "You're getting close, aren't you? Squeezing me so tight like that..."

"Yeah," you whined, even though you weren't fully sure what it even felt like to be close. You weren't dumb, you knew what orgasms were, you'd just never had one yourself, and as such, you had no basis for comparison.

Leon aimed to fix that, to make damn sure you familiarized yourself with the feeling over the course of your shared eternity.

His thrusts picked up with renewed vigor, the legs of the old chaise lounge scratching against the hardwood floors with every push forward, and he didn't even care. Everything else about life felt so worthless in comparison to you, the new center of his universe. The whole entire house could collapse and he would still be content, so long as he had you.

And every time he remembered that he did have you, that you were here with him right now, squirming and rutting on his cock so beautifully, that he was all you had... it just drove him that much crazier, made him that much more determined to make your first time one you would never forget. He couldn't be happier to spend the entire rest of his endless life topping the last performance.

You were losing your grip, struggling to keep your eyes open and eventually sinking your itching fangs into what you could reach of his throat just to push yourself a little higher, a little closer. The flavor alone made you purr against his skin, jaw clenching tighter, and the delicious sting of it was pushing him forward too. Now his biggest concern wasn't just making sure you came, but making sure that you came first.

So he withheld, even as his balls drew up tight and ached to release, focusing instead on getting you there.

"Don't be shy, princess, I've got you," Leon moaned into your ear, "let it happen... just let it happen..."

Tears pricked at your eyes, the overabundance of stimulation rendering you down into a tearful little puddle, but it wasn't until he spoke up to encourage you that you realized you really were holding back, stalling yourself at the precipice like it was wrong to let go.

But it wasn't wrong. It was divine. It was indulgent.

Sucking back a mouthful of his blood, you unlatched from Leon's neck just to press your forehead against his own, your jaw stuck open in stilted whines and gasps for breath as that molten heat in your belly finally boiled over, and you discovered exactly what it was you were close to.

Your spine drew up into an arch, toes curling over his shoulders as you came on his length with a cry, thighs trembling with strain. Leon had never been baptized before, but it felt like he was just now. He'd never felt so close to God as he allowed himself to finish deep inside your perfect pussy.

You collapsed together in the afterglow, the parlor going quiet again as you both caught your breath and your bearings, a heaping pile of mess on velvet.

"Leon," you whispered, kissing some of the excess blood away from his cold skin as you innocently and earnestly admitted, "I... I think I love you."

He cracked a fond smile at this, if only because he knew you would catch up in time. After all, you still had much to learn, and he didn't want to overwhelm you more than he already had for one evening.

"I love you too, little one."

#venustext #sintext #resident evil #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy smut #vampire leon kennedy #vampire leon #dividers by saradika-graphics

874 notes · View notes

muletia · 30 days ago

Note

Yknow what? At this point if megatron is obbsessed with human pussy then might aswell make soundwave join the party too. Hooray! Another decepticon joins in!!! Because we all know soundwave is very loyal and trust worthy to megatron, and megatron trust more to soundwave then the rest of the decepticons. Both honestly insane for y/n

Starscream on the other hand- he thinks this is getting ridiculous and just stare in horror😭

wrote this instead of studying. i cannot stop thinking about them handsome obsessed mechs man. and as for starscream - I have way different plans for him in this au thanks to one very delicious anon ask :))

When Soundwave joins your merry band of obsessed Decepticons, there’s no way for you to escape from the Nemesis (I mean, you’ll manage somehow, because this is crack—anything goes, and the bullshit flows freely). His master had already instructed him to monitor you constantly, especially since Optimus somehow keeps breaking onto their ship. Initially, Soundwave simply carried out the order without questioning his master’s decision. There wasn’t a shred of personal desire, sympathy, or sentiment in his actions.

Well, his motives change drastically when he concludes that you’re worth his attention. Curiosity turns into attachment, attachment into need, and need into hunger. From that moment, the order ceases to be an obligation fulfilled out of loyalty. It transforms into care. Into the need to protect. Under no circumstances could you fall back into the servos of the Autobots. Your place was here, on Megatron’s lap and under his watchful gaze.

I don’t think Soundwave hides his feelings. Even though he’s mute, calculated, and above all, a cold-blooded spy, Megatron easily guesses that his second-in-command has plans for you that go beyond his primary orders. His body language gives him away—tiny deviations noticeable only because of the eons of history they share. It’s subtle but undeniable. And astonishing, because Soundwave betrayed him. The most loyal follower stepped beyond the boundaries of an order, proving that the impossible became possible—that an apathetic machine could feel.

At first, Megatron is furious. He didn’t plan to share. He had already claimed you—you belonged to him alone, and once he won the war, you were to stay in his servos forever. There was no room for another mech, for anyone else. But possessiveness doesn’t get the chance to take root, completely consume his processor, and lead to irreversible, harmful decisions. This arrangement might prove fruitful, after all. Megatron still trusted his spy—more than any of his other subordinates. And so, he allows the partnership.

Your freedom on the Nemesis may have expanded, but hopping from one crazed Decepticon to another came with a catch tied to a suspiciously practical offer. Megatron informed you that from time to time, his second-in-command would take care of you, so you could forget about ever seeing the Autobots again. However, he didn’t tell you that his second-in-command was just as unhinged as he was—and apparently had plans for you that extended beyond passive observation.

Soundwave isn’t as touchy-feely. He doesn’t hold you against his chassis for hours to prove that his badonkers are bigger than his rival’s. He doesn’t demand touch from you, either. But there are moments when he forces closeness: stroking your hair, examining your body with his thin digits, massaging your back. He isn’t invasive like Megatron, nor harsh in his affections. His movements are subtle, carrying greater respect for you. After all, you didn’t fully belong to him. He only got a fraction, a small piece to calm his raging processor chanting your name. Megatron holds the reins and always will.

It’s most evident when they’re together in the same room. It’s on Megatron’s throne you sit, on his lap, as he recites Cybertronian romantic poetry or his own verses—mostly concerning his turbulent, sick feelings toward you. Soundwave is merely an observer. He doesn’t dare ask for more. He takes the scraps, but they’re enough because you’re close, because he has consistent access to you. He’s also content with his leader’s victory (at least until you return to the Autobots), because when you’re on the Nemesis, everything falls into place. The fire in their sparks burns fiercer, more fervently.

#be silly #transformers x reader #obsessed!megatron #megatron x reader #obsessed!soundwave #soundwave x reader

318 notes · View notes

intuitively-her · 1 month ago

Text

You have an innocent look to you. "Damsel in distress" vibes. You might attract partners that want to take care of you or save you in some way.

Your lovers tend to become possessive of you pretty easily. You're like a trinket that they want to keep tucked in their pocket to carry with them everywhere they go. You probably have multiple people in competition over you right now.🤭 Someone here has a lottt of social media stalkers, especially if you post thirst traps.😅

Your energy reminds me of Cher from clueless. You're a very beautiful and high-value person. But you still remain very down to earth and friendly to others.

You could have naturally curly hair. Someone here has blonde or black hair. You could have beautifully tanned skin as well.

The way that you command attention without even trying. You have a very confident and humble energy. But you also have this air of mystery to you as well. You are so aloof at times that you may not even realize how much attention is really on you.

You can be a little stubborn at times and prefer to stick to your own way of doing things.

You turn your pain into power! You're always onto the next best thing and following your goals. I feel like you've had to defend yourself and stand on business with a lot of folks lately.

🤍Zodiac confirmations: Taurus, Aries, Aquarius, Scorpio

Your energy is very exciting to be around. You are very free spirited and adventurous. Someone here likes to take solo trips/road trips.

Someone here could be into plants and botany. You could have a garden/greenhouse as well.

You know how to keep your situations surface level and keep your business on the low. People never really know what your next move is.

Someone specific here is a brunette or you could have blue/purple hair. You could also have a kinky hair type.

You are very independent and all about your money. Someone here owns a nice home. You have a lot of stability and actually take the time to move away from the things that don't serve you.

Someone here likes to get pedicures. You could also wear high heels often as well.

You have a generous and warm energy. People feel accepted by you. There could be people that look up to you in some way. I also sense a cutthroat energy from you as well though lol. You have a sweet x spicy duality to you.🥰

🤍Zodiac confirmations: Cancer, Capricorn, Pisces, Libra

Your dedication to your work and goals.

Your ability to bounce back from situations by yourself and transform into new energy. Alchemist energy.

Someone here likes to wear knee-high stockings or leg warmers.

For my masculine's here, you could like to dress up in business casual attire or you could wear a lot of sneakers.

Your rebellious energy.⚡

You are very family oriented and hold your close relationships to a high regard. You have a very kind and sentimental energy. You could like to capture memories with your loved ones as well.

Someone here has their hair in a bob haircut, or you could have hair that flows all the way down your back.

You may have a tendency to ghost your flings/romantic partners or could be the type to lead people on at times.🤭

🤍Zodiac confirmations: Heavy water and air energy

You're a jack of all trades! Your skillset is very admirable. Someone here could play different sports, or you could be a part of some type of club/committee. There are many people that want to learn from you.

Someone here has tattoos.

Your sweet and loving vibe.

When you wear dresses or more fitting clothes. Your jewelry/accessories are very appealing to the eye as well.

You stick to your values and beliefs. You could be a "goody two shoes" lol

Your creativity.

When you wear your hair tied up in a bun or pigtails.

Someone here wears glasses.

Your rbf; y'all often have this bored expression on your face like you couldn't be bothered to interact with anyone around you.😂

🤍Zodiac confirmations: Sagittarius, Leo, Libra, Virgo

*ONLY TAKE WHAT RESONATES*

🤍Please DO NOT copy, repost, or steal my work! Thanks!🤍

*Credits to @anitalenia for the text dividers🤍*

Masterlist

Paid readings

#tarot #tarot reading #pick a card #collective reading #111 #angel number 888 #999 #angel number 1111

330 notes · View notes

hazbin-writings-and-musings · 11 months ago

Text

Lucifer Morningstar x Reader Height Difference Headcanons

AKA What it's like to love a Short King

I was already inspired after my last headcanon post, and have some more fun little ideas for Lucifer X Reader, namely in regards to our dear Fallen Angel being the short one in the relationship. Got a bit sillier and spicier with this one, and I hope you're all ready for some very spicy ones in the near future!

- He's accustomed to being shorter than most, and while he's not one to accept mockery of any kind, he's more than comfortable enough with himself to accept nicknames and loving platitudes about his height from a romantic partner. Hearing you sweetly refer to him as a "Short King" will always get him smirking, and an affectionate "Little Lucy" makes him melt every time. Cooing over how cute he is is also sure to put him in a happy, purring mood, to the point he'll end up laying his head on your lap if you'll let him. Hearing about how darling you find him whilst having your fingers run through his hair might just be his favorite pastime.

- Between the wings and his angelic powers, he doesn't actually struggle to reach anything high up, but he will still appreciate it if you preemptively grab the item in question. That's not to say he won't ask, but he'll always make a point to be as silly about it as possible when he does. Requesting a lift is his preferred way of doing so, and he'll take his sweet time lounging in your arms after grabbing what he needs, even stretching out bridal style for a bit of carrying. Angelic magic can make him light as a feather for extra long bouts of carrying if you're willing to indulge him.

- He'll be the first to tell you all about the advantages of his stature, and at the top of his list is how often he finds himself at bust height, which is quite the gift for a breast man like himself. Yours are the only ones he's interested in, obviously, but he loves how easy it is for him to come in for a hug and tuck his head in between. You'll find him doing this wether he's had a great day or a terrible one, with the former being to celebrate and the latter being to get some much needed comfort somewhere warm and soft. He can't help it if your boobs are just the perfect place to put his face.

- He's going to borrow your hoodies. Granted, "borrow" is an interesting term for something you'll never get back, but he always ensures you're compensated in some way or another. No top of yours that fits him is safe, and the looser it fits over his smaller frame, the better. These oversized clothes are never worn outside the privacy of his quarters, and he wears them most frequently when circumstances keep the two of you apart, particularly at night. Having something of yours all around him is like having your embrace from a distance, and he can't help being sentimental enough to find comfort in that, even after so many eons.

- He's small, but you'll never forget that he's an absolute powerhouse, if only because it's beyond obvious when you're in his presence. Angelic power practically hums through the air if you listen closely, and that's just what you can sense at a distance. Things are even more intense when you come into contact with his lean physical form. For all of his grace and agility, he doesn't lack for physical strength in the slightest, and you learn that the first time you feel him support your body with his. He'll never once give even a hint of effort, let alone struggle, no matter how considerably you tower over him. Carrying you bridal style takes no more effort than one would to lift a couple of grapes. As such, he'll happily take you into his arms or lap, and showing off his unfathomable strength in romantic gestures always gets him puffing his chest with pride.

968 notes · View notes

lunarfleur · 6 months ago

Text

Dating Tenya Iida

Warnings:None! Hardly proofread.

A/N:BIG TALL GUYS WITH GLASSES I REPEAT BIG TALL GUYS WITH GLASSES!!!!!!!

This is just a random bunch of thoughts :O I swear I’m normal about him

GN reader!

PRINCE CHARMING!!

Sweetest boy on Earth!!

Special treatment

He’s so big and strong, but he’s also such a gentleman

He caters to your ever need because he thinks you deserve everything

Would tie your shoes for you. No questions asked.

Does not use words like ‘hot’ or ‘sexy’, and instead uses ‘breathtaking’ and ‘hypnotizing’ because he’s just that guy

Prefers walking behind you at times because he tends to get paranoid about your safety

HEALTHY COMMUNICATION!!

He’ll wait for you to finish any rants you go on when you’re angry, and then will sit you down and talk to you calmly.

He’s so honest about his feelings and is so considerate about yours :] AGHRHEO

And he never goes to bed angry! Ever!

Would help you study and/or workout because he’s jacked AND smart

He’s patient with you too

Does that cute thing where he writes you cute love notes for you to find (because he can’t always be with you)

I’m imagining him tying your hair back if you have long enough hair…AGH

Always pays for your guys’s dates because it’s his gentlemanly duties (and he’s LOADED)

Dates with him are always…romantic and sentimental

Walks in the evening, stargazing in the park…that sort of thing.

Tenya is very big on the importance of cuddling/one-on-one time

He believes it’s healing for the two of you

He’s still a teenage boy, though! He gets shy

When he receives kisses his brain sort of malfunctions

He gets all red and has to clear his throat and take a breath

He loves giving them, though!!! He’s always giving you cheek kisses because it just makes sense

Tenya likes when you hold onto his arm because his hands get sweaty (and he just likes when you cling to him)

He notices the little things!

Knows everything about you…your favorite foods, favorite colors, favorite movies, etc.

He’s just so SKAKSUJWJAONSK

#mick talks #mha #my hero academia #bnha #boku no hero academia #mha x reader #bnha x reader #tenya iida #mha iida #iida x reader #mha tenya #tenya iida x reader

995 notes · View notes

pomefioredove · 8 months ago

Note

You know what would be sad? If you/Yuu breaks up with Vil (or vice versa) and then runs to Rook afterwards. I wonder if Vil is going to feel betrayed again? If you could do a little scenario for this, that’d be great!

this is such a good prompt, I love rebound scenarios omg. needed this today. and here comes rook with the steel chair!!!

summary: getting dumped by vil schoenheit type of post: long fic characters: rook additional info: romantic, established relationship, vil breaks up with reader, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, kinda angsty, hahhhh, my god

"It's not personal. I just don't think it's fair to you," Vil says.

He doesn't fidget. Maintains perfect eye contact. He doesn't even try to act sorry, which, perhaps, is what stings the most.

He's supposed to be an actor, after all.

That's what this is all about.

"You must have always known this was a possibility," he says. "My schedule is getting busier, I simply don't... want to push you away."

Each word is spoken with a honeyed softness, as if he's trying to cushion the blows. It doesn't help.

Your heart thuds in your chest, your eyes burn. This is the worst thing you've ever experienced. You would take a thousand overblots over this. Any day.

What a bitter sentiment.

"You don't mean to push me away. What is this, then?"

A look of guilt finally crosses Vil's face, cracking the mask of professionalism he'd been hiding behind. It offers little comfort.

His brow furrows, and he sighs. "A preventative measure. It would hurt more if I'd waited,"

A million questions fly through your mind, faster than you can catch them. You want to shout, to tell him exactly how he's making you feel, to ask him who he thinks he is- but all you can manage is a stare.

He frowns, extending a hand as if to caress your face, but you turn on your heels and leave before he has the chance.

You wouldn't sit there and let him make a fool of you any longer.

You had become comfortable with the Pomefiore dorm in the past few months, but today, its elegance feels suffocating. The white and gold decor seems to mock you, every vase of perfect flowers laughing at your imperfection as you pass them by.

It hurts.

Stings, burns, makes you feel like you're drowning in a sea of perfume, choking on lilac and rose. Has the air here always been so sickeningly sweet?

There's still a lingering part of you that wants to run back to him, to beg, to negotiate, but you know he's right. You hate that he's right.

This... whatever it was... wouldn't last.

And you'd always known it.

---

How does one recover from being dumped by Vil Schoenheit?

Short answer: you can't.

You can wallow all you want, drowning yourself in the unhealthy foods he forbade you from eating, skipping the classes he'd so encouraged you to excel in, and using cheap tissues on your formerly-perfect skin, but that doesn't change a thing.

Perhaps if it hadn't been so public, you might have pulled yourself together sooner. But the very second all of your pictures were gone from his profile, everyone knew.

On some nights, you'd torture yourself by reading the thirsty comments from desperate fans under his latest posts, all of them pointing out his recent singleness. You would wonder to yourself if you had sounded that pathetic when you were dating Vil.

Just another hopeless, desperate fan, hoping for a piece of him.

People on campus avoided you. Not out of fear, but pity, a lack of knowing what to say. How do you even comfort someone after this?

It was like having an open wound on full display. No matter how you tried to bandage it, it kept bleeding through.

Even Grim was keeping his distance.

What little comfort came in the form of an anonymous knight in shining armor. Roses left at your doorstep, letters of love and encouragement on your assigned seats, little baskets full of your favorite foods and trinkets on your kitchen table...

You would have questioned it if you were not so consumed by your grief. At least the mystery offered a distraction.

"Another one," Ace comments, pulling a letter off your chair before you can sit on it. "Whoever this guy is, he's slick."

He hands you the letter, which you gracefully accept.

Deuce watches cautiously. "And you're sure it's not just... some kinda of prank, right? I've known my fair share of nasty types, this could be a trick."

"Too much effort," you shake your head. "I mean, whoever this is is spending a lot of time and money cheering me up. Not to mention... I've tried looking up some of these poems, and no matches. They're originals."

You wave around the letter in hand, a faint smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Though, I'm sure whoever's doing it is just being nice,"

"Nice. Right," Ace rolls his eyes. "Cause I know like, a million teenage boys who are just dying to write poetry for their friends."

Even Deuce snickers at that. You roll your eyes.

"Point taken. I guess I just can't believe that anyone would want me after..." you pause. There's no pleasant way to put it, so you let Ace and Deuce fill in the blanks.

"Hey, Vil is a jerk. He doesn't deserve you," Deuce says. "And trust me, if I ever catch him disrespecting you again-"

Ace scoffs. "Woah, there, tiger. Calm down. Vil could kick your ass and we all know it,"

"He really was something, wasn't he?" you sigh, slumping in your seat. Ace and Deuce give each other a panicked look.

"We didn't mean-"

"No, I get it," you say, reaching down to the floor in an attempt to touch your toes. Vil had told you that little exercises help calm the nerves. You hate how you still need his advice.

"Oh, hey, look," you sit back up, another pink envelope in hand. "Another one."

---

There's something about these gifts that doesn't sit right with you.

Each one is arranged to perfection, obviously crafted by a very thoughtful individual, just personal enough to suit your tastes but distant all the same.

It's almost as if the sender is holding something back.

But, not today.

You're greeted by a trail of rose petals leading up to Ramshackle's front door, which itself is ajar. Not uncommon, considering Grim's inability to take care of the makeshift dorm, but with the scent of roses and the candlelight inside, you know it's something more.

You walk in, setting your things aside, and continue following the path of petals into the kitchen, where a rickety wooden table has been set for two.

You, however, are the only one in the room.

"Hello?" you ask, turning in circles. The space is empty, save for a small letter on one of the chairs.

Beautiful,

A little bird told me you doubt the intentions of my admiration. I must amend that immediately, and I see no better way than to say it myself.

Yours truly.

"Trickster," a familiar voice comes from the doorway behind you, and you whirl around to face your admirer.

"Rook!" you gasp, clutching the letter to your chest.

He beams in response. "Oui, c'est moi. Though I was so enjoying the mystery, I feel it's time I made my intentions clear. Sit, please,"

You don't hesitate to follow his suggestion (the surprise left your knees feeling weak, anyway), and he joins you in the adjacent seat.

"But what-"

"Please," he says, holding a finger to your lips to shush you. "Let me start. I first want to say that I have meant every single word, in song and ink, that I have given to you. My heart is true."

Your mind is overflowing with questions, none of which he seems keen on answering in full just yet.

"I have spent the past several months allowing our Beautiful Vil to woo you. I have so enjoyed watching your love blossom from afar, despite my own feelings towards you. But things have changed," Rook says.

"For as much as I love him, this was his own doing. He has made a fatal mistake, one which cannot be undone- he has wounded you, mon amour, in a most vulnerable fashion. Months ago, when we both realized our feelings for you, I willingly stepped aside," he says. "I thought Vil would be the best option for you. I thought I was not ready to commit myself. Now I see what a mistake that was, and I hope you might find it within yourself to forgive me..."

You can only stare back. "Rook..."

"I cannot resent our Roi du Poison for his choice, for it's his to make. But he hurt you dearly, and in the process, he has relinquished his claim on you. I know your wound is still fresh. But, please, Mon Trickster, mon véritable amour, be mine?"

You're silent for a moment, processing every detail of what he said, what he's offering...

He's right. The wound Vil created is still open, and despite the weeks of "recovery", had yet to improve.

If you kept waiting for it to heal, perhaps it never would.

You nod. "Okay. Okay! But-! Let's take it slow, okay?"

Rook just barely manages to stop himself from leaping across the table to take your hands into his, and he reaffirms your request with a nod.

"Of course, mon cœur. What is a hunter if not patient?"

---

Pomefiore is beautiful again.

There are still times where you swear you can see Vil staring at the two of you, a look of discontent on his face, from across the room.

He doesn't utter a word about the way Rook has his arm over your shoulder, or the many terms of endearment he uses on you, though he doesn't have to. The lingering guilt and regret has made a home for itself in Vil Schoenheit.

You're sure Rook has noticed by now, too, although this isn't the first time he's pulled something like this on the housewarden without a second thought, and it likely won't be the last.

Perhaps it's for the better.

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #queued #rook hunt x reader #can't stop thinking of the logistics of this bc if rook and vil both liked the mc at the same time they would NEVER fight over it #rook would totally let vil go ahead and then either become vilyuu number one fan OR polycule OR be there to steal mc when vil fucks up #and alas polycule is probably the least likely because vil would Not Want to Share

763 notes · View notes

hyperfixation-fix · 8 months ago

Text

Just a reminder as we're all becoming continuing to be feral for season 2 of PJO

They're kids.

And as much as I love all the "omg he's totally Percy!!", just remember that he's not. They're actors. They're doing a phenomenal job and we're really lucky to have them as a fandom, but... remember that they've signed up for a big job at a very young age. It's our duty as a fandom (especially a fandom with a lot of adults in it) to protect them, make sure that they are being respected, and (APPROPRIATELY) call out inappropriate and/or disrespectful behaviour when we see it. If anyone needs it, I've put some examples below the cut.

✅Appropriate ✅

"Walker is such an incredible Percy!!!" "Leah does such a great job portraying Annabeth!!!!" "Their dynamic is amazing!!!"

"I don't like the way Walker plays Percy - I always saw him as XYZ." "I don't like Lea as Annabeth. It's just not how I saw her." (borderline. consider why you can't see Annabeth as anything except white. but if you're being polite, I'll give you a grudging pass)

Fully clothed/non-sexual fanart of the actors (in or out of character) (romantic is okay)

Posting/reposting consenting photos, (respectful) edits, etc of the actors in or out of character

Discussing details of their personal lives that the actors have chosen to share with the public (but don't make it weird, ok?)

❌Inappropriate❌

"Walker and Leah need to date irl, they have so much chemistry!!" uh. no. You're seeing *acting*. Leave their personal lives out of it

"Annabeth being played by a black actor is ridiculous, wokeness is getting out of control" or any variation upon that sentiment. Honestly just fuck off. Also (and yes this is a sub tweet) recolouring fanart that depicts Annabeth as black? Absolutely not. If you absolutely have to, go do your own fucking artwork like a normal human being instead of a racist POS.

Raunchy/suggestive/sexual fanart of the actors (in or out of character). Nope. They are children. Stop it. Don't care if you're "aging them up". Imagine how that feels for them.

Posting/reposting photos where the actors aren't/don't seem to be consenting to the photo

Speculating on or pressuring the actors to reveal ANY DETAILS about their private lives. This includes, but is far from limited to: their contact details/locations, their sexuality, their relationships, their diagnoses, their politics (they're still really young... idk about you guys but my political opinions were hot garbage at 16. they get a (moderate) pass until they're at least 18)

These are obviously non-extensive lists. Please use your brain, and, if in doubt, don't post it.

Also, if you see inappropriate behaviour, please don't be an idiot about it. First course of action should always be politely talking to the person in private. After that, yes, it may be appropriate to start publicly calling them out. Having said that, remember that teens can be dumb (speaking from lived experience...), so let's give them some grace. Ignoring, reporting, blocking, and not engaging is sometimes the best thing you can do for dumbasses, especially if they're attention-seeking.

I love you all and I have complete faith that we, as a fandom, can rally and make sure the cast knows that they are loved and respected.

#pjo #riordanverse #percy jackson #rick riordan #my posts #fandom #pjo tv #pjo tv show #percabeth #annabeth chase #walker scobell #leah sava jeffries #myposts

632 notes · View notes

fxirybun · 4 months ago

Text

🪷 PAC: your romantic soulmate’s personality

this is a collective reading ! take what resonates and leave what doesn't. i cannot guarantee 100% accuracy. take the pac reading lightly ჱ̒ ｰ̀֊ｰ́ )

ෆ⸒⸒ pink teacup 🌸

your romantic soulmate is someone thoughtful about their words and actions. they have this patient energy within them and they seem to prefer to take a practical approach to certain situations or people. they're the type of person who's willing to put in the work in order to achieve their long-term goals. i sensed that they're very careful and can also be reflective about their decision. it seems to me that your romantic soulmate would try to evaluate where they are in life. they would even make some adjustments when it is needed and don't seem to complain much in terms of investing their time and energy into things that matter to them.

i felt that something happened to them in the past that made them feel scared of being alone. your romantic soulmate may have experienced some kind of setback that led them to feel cautious and set their guard up. i felt that it has something to do with finances since i'm getting the energy of being worried about losing stability as well as their place in their working environment. even though your romantic soulmate carries this fear , they don't seem to show it from the outside perspective. i do think that they relate to individuals who also came from the same position as them and that it made them feel empathetic to those people.

i sensed that they have this urge to help those who are going through a difficult period as they also faced those same struggles and know the way out of it. at the same time , there's this feeling of trying to distance themselves from any form of conflict or negativity. it seems to me that your romantic soulmate prefers a calming domain. they seem to be leaning more towards the quiet , introverted side. they're the type of person who is introspective and more so focused on personal growth. i do think that they always seek to leave or be away from any stressful situation. they seem to value having peace of mind and aren't afraid to move or change their place as a way to protect their mental state.

ෆ⸒⸒ blue teacup 🫐

i sensed that your romantic soulmate has a complex relationship with their family. they seem to have some kind of unconventional mindset when it comes to traditional values. they felt disconnected and could be questioning or perhaps rejecting their role within their roots. they may also be the kind of person who lives more in the present moment and does not worry too much about the future. i'm getting that your romantic soulmate feels uncertain about their long-term plan for themselves. it's also possible that they're struggling in trying to balance their emotional and physical aspects. i felt that there was this instability in these areas.

your romantic soulmate is likely to cherish their remarkable memories. i'm getting that they have a sentimental nature within themselves. they seem to value a simple connection that stems from innocence. they also place a lot of importance on having a close and meaningful relationship wherein they get to show their warm and caring side of them. i can see that your romantic soulmate has this playful or youthful energy in them and possibly have a childlike attitude. i felt that they're emotionally sensitive too and at the same time , they're someone who can be very attentive to those that play a significant role in their lives.

in addition , your romantic soulmate is the kind of person who is resilient and gained inner strength within themselves. they know how to regulate their emotions well enough. even though they face an obstacle in their path that can make them feel vulnerable , they would do anything to remain calm through the midst of it. they're someone who has this composed quality as well as having a strong-willed attitude in trying to move past a difficult moment. your romantic soulmate possesses the characteristics of being gentle , and determined , and exhibits kindness whilst also being firm when needed. perhaps they may have empathy within them too.

ෆ⸒⸒ red teacup 🍄

i can say that you're romantic soulmate is the type of person who spends most of their time in solitude , an introvert if you will. i sensed that they prefer to think about something by themselves alone before they take the necessary steps for action. they seem to be in a constant search for deeper truths and wisdom. it is possible that they're more mature and intelligent despite their age. it's as if they've gone through a lot and from it they gained some personal insights or valuable lessons. your romantic soulmate may as well be leaning more on hiding themselves from society in order for them to process their current thoughts , feelings , and emotions.

perhaps this is what the outsiders think or their first impression of them because i'm getting a different side of their personality. it's likely that they only show it to those that are deemed close. even though they seem to be timid , they have this igniting character that can make the crowd shock. your romantic soulmate is an adventurer at heart , they have this quality of being curious about something that caught their attention. he has this passionate energy of wanting to experience what is new to them , an explorer. while they may be thoughtful and quiet , they are also open to fresh ideas and seem to enjoy pursuing things that can light up their inspiration.

because of their dual nature , your romantic soulmate may struggle in trying to balance their sides. they may be having difficulties in juggling their multiple responsibilities , and trying to keep everything in order. as a result , they end up having an occasional feeling of being overwhelmed or in a state of burnout. your romantic soulmate may tend to reflect their tendency to take too much of everything at once. perhaps they're struggling to manage their time or which priorities they need to spend most of their time on. nevertheless , they're always ready to dive into something exciting and at the same time be introspective about it.

#free readings #free tarot #tarot requests #divination #tarot community #tarot reading #tarot #psychic #daily tarot #tarotblr #pick a pile #pac reading #pick a picture #pick a photo #pick a card #pac #pick an image

296 notes · View notes

northopalshore · 26 days ago

Note

Hello love!!🐉

Would love to see your take on stelliums in solar return charts! Thank you for giving us so much knowledge about astro <3

LOVE YOUR BLOG. PERIOD.

♀ Hello! Thank you for your support ♡

Stelliums in the

Solar Return Chart

Stelliums are always a sign that this year is going to naturally draw you /force you into focusing on that aspect of your life (where the stellium is). There will be a lot of changes, & development which also means this year will be very significant for you growth wise. Usually, also points to a "milestone" being achieved. Though it doesn't have to be that way.

Note: planets or asteroids in retrograde can signify things from the past resurfacing, a time for reevaluations, & revelations to take place. You are going to close a chapter of you life that doesn't serve you anymore.

🍧 In the signs & the houses ࿐

Aries @ the 1st house

A lot of your focus & events surrounding this year will be related to yourself, whether through making more direct decisions, being more stubborn or selfish (whether in a good way or bad). You may feel quicker to react to things, quick to anger, quick to defend yourself. Things around you may seem very hectic and fast paced. Headaches may be quite prominent this year. You may find yourself participating in a lot of competitions as well, or competition in general is a reoccurring theme throughout your year.

Taurus @ the 2nd house

Money, work, aesthetics and your home life will be impactful this year. You may start gaining a lot of income, or focus on gaining said income in the first place. You may be more focused on the things you choose to buy, and more possessive of things that you own. You might be transforming the way you look or even reshape your idea of what you truly value, whether that'd be material or through your connections. Spending a lot of money is very likely as well. You may start writing this year too. Starting a small business, or talking/singing more.

Gemini @ the 3rd house

So, this year is when you will be blessed with a lot of creativity in terms of writing. You may have the urge to communicate more or to express your thoughts, fantasies, creativity and emotions through words; whether that'd be through writing or talking. If Neptune is here, you may start writing fanfiction or even create something like songs or a draft for your books for example. If Pluto is here, you will be transforming they way that you speak or write, or express yourself. Taking a more methodical approach. You could start having a very online presence as well.

Ex: I had a 3rd house Stellium in my 2019 SRC. This was the year I started working on my journals, they were written with the intention to give to my FS one day as a "other side pov". Sort of like the Midnight Sun to Twilight lmao. I definitely yapped a lot (I finished 3 books that year).

Cancer @ the 4th house

There may be something very significant happening in your home life, whether in your house or your parents house. There could be an additional family member for example, or your parents may decide to do a lot of activities together this year. There could also be big fights within the household depending on the sign or planets present (almost guaranteed if Scorpio is here). You may spend a lot of time at home, or with your family this year. You may also get easily sentimental too.

Leo @ the 5th house

This year may be filled with creative endeavors. You could be more extroverted this year, meeting new friends or acquaintances, there may few a few romantic interest for you this year as well, though they may not be that serious i.e crushes, flings.

Ex: I remember the last time I had a 5th house Stellium, I was either in a creative competition or at home drawing all day & night lmaoo it was in Capricorn too. I also met my first and only crush that year (although we never got in a relationship, we only met during the competition and never exchanged numbers). He was a prince charming like boy. He was really nice to me & playful but very gentle. Also, I heard he played the violin damnn. That was a long time ago though. I don't think I'll see him again.

Virgo @ the 6th house

This year, you will be very immersed in your work. It could mean your studies, your career or even a passion project. Whatever it is, this year is the year you'll actually feel "involved" or connected to what you're doing. Taking your work more seriously, trying to reach certain goals you might be itching to obtain. People may look to you for help or guidance quite often this year. You may be the "reference" person of they year. It seems like everything you do it right, or praised for some reason. Especially if Venus is here.

Libra @ the 7th house

There's going to be a lot of things going on within your relationships & close circles but also within business partnerships. It's not just strictly about love. You may be more attached to your friends this year or the people around you i.e spending more time with them or having a significant arc with them for example. You may encounter specific person or company or "muse" that may push you to grow or realize something as well.

Scorpio @ the 8th house

It's likely going to be one of the most painful years of your life (at least until it happens again). Your whole world may feel like it's falling apart and there is nothing you can do. I feel like we all go through this at least once during our adolescent years; a huge shift of perspective happens. Suddenly the world is much gloomier than usual, and now you're able to see the darkness of it all lmao.

In adulthood however, it's likely that you may feel like you have nothing going in your favor. Death after death, failure after failure. This is likely a "rock bottom" stage. Though as they say, the only good thing about hitting rock bottom, is that there is nowhere else to go but up. If you have been putting any "awakenings" or have been in denial of something especially related to you ego, then this year will be especially excruciating for you.

Ex: I had another 8th house Stellium in 2017 & 2018 (two years straight waow). It was in Sagittarius then in pisces . This time, I started really dividing into astrology, a lot of my time was consumed with deeply challenging & introspective thoughts. I began diving into the metaphysical world more. It was also the year I got the most nightmares & dreams about my FS for some reason. I started being "haunted" by his presence. But during this time, I was a massive tsundere lmaoo. I just didn't understand the significance it had, so it drove my logical thinking into a spiral.

Sagittarius @ the 9th house

This is one of those years where education is your tour de force. It may seem like your brain just grew twice its size, I'm kidding lmaooo. You may be keen to start learning something new this year, whether it'd be a language, a course or through religion. Higher studies are highlighted but if you aren't interested in education, then it's likely concerning expansion in general. Look at what sign is here for more context. The core of this SRC placement however, is to challenge the way you have been living before this. Shaking things up by adding new things in your life whether it'd be a new routine, a hobby or even just the way you think.

Ex: I had an 8th house Stellium in 2013. That was when I moved houses & schools for the 3rd - 4th time I think? It was in a different town, closer to my grandmother (mother's side).

Capricorn @ the 10th house

Ding ding ding. You've guessed it! This year is going to be very impactful for your career. You may feel quick to tire this year, and new competition may arise in your work field, you may be working on a passion project, betting all your chips on the table. Fire will be placed under your feet, and you may feel like everything has to happen now. Working and expanding yourself. You will be perfecting your craft, and gaining recognition for your hard work. You may sharpen your strategies for growth or for future plans this year, taking on more responsibility

Aquarius @ the 11th house

There will be a lot of shake ups for you this year, it could be exciting changes; gaining popularity or online recognition. Finally starting that project you've been holding up for months or even years. The one that's been itching your brain. Though, it can also mean that your friends or your peers will have a substantial role this year. You could be gaining more friends, going through many friendships or friend groups, working on team projects for example.

Pisces @ the 12th house

Similar to the 8th house, where it means you're going to be put through a lot of challenges this year, specifically emotional loss and loneliness. You may feel incredibly hopeless this year which could come from your sense of being alienated or just at a different place mentally when compared to your peers. You may feel easily exhausted, hurt and betrayed. Though it might also mean a year of being kept in the dark about something. Usually comes with a few losses that you'll experience, whether it'd be friendships, family members, lovers or even death. Though it also means that you're going to be more aligned with your spiritual side.

It's not all bad however, this year will teach you to let go of the things that have haunted you up to this point, to explore uncharted territory whether that'd be physically, mentally or emotionally. Travel may be prominent this year as well, but moving specifically is more significant.

@northopalshore

#solar return observations #solar return chart observations #solar return chart interpretations #solar return notes #Stelliums im the solar return chart #astrology observations #astrology blog #astrology notes #astro observations #astro notes #astrology #astrology content #astrology community #astrology ramblings #astrology asks

175 notes · View notes

spookieloverslittlemind · 1 month ago

Text

Art The Clown - NSFW alphabet

tw: mentions of cnc, forced orgasms, orgasm denial, brief mention of blood play

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

The most aftercare you’re getting from this man is silently pretending to coo over you and wipe your tears. You might be able to convince him to help you bathe if you offer a large quantity of bubbles and/or an exciting bath bomb (prepare for a dramatic ☹️ when you clarify that it is not an ACTUAL bomb).

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

If you ask him what his favourite part of your body is, Art’s answer is as follows:

😱👉🏻👌🏻

This is a gesture inclusive of all your holes, just to avoid any confusion. For a more sentimental answer from him, take a peak here.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Art wants everything to do with cum and that’s not an exaggeration. He doesn’t really care for sex in the traditional sense, he just finds the mess very, very fun. The more bodily fluids the better. Wants his gloves stained with everything. Wants his suit to smell of you like a marked animal. If you can squirt, you will squirt - make no mistake.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

This isn’t really answerable because Art exists to be a freak and therefore has no secrets or shame about that.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Not a lot because he doesn’t have a real drive for sex or intimacy, it’s more just the mess and fun he finds outside of brutal murder, and he doesn’t consider that a possibility until he meets you. He knows of sex acts prior to you, but has no interest in trying them out until he realises the mess he can make of you. Over and over again.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Prefers you being tied/chained with your legs spread, so any position in which that is possible. Likes it best when you cant pull away; not that you want to, but when overstimulated your body can flinch/thighs can try to close and that’ll have Art shaking his finger at you all ☝🏻🙄

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

The silly sir mayor of goofsville? You’re asking?

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Doesn’t care to groom at all and likes when his or your bodily fluids linger in his pubes because he’s a freak so you do the math.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Again, silently condescendingly cooing over you is the most intimate vibes you’ll receive from this guy. He’ll lick your face and give you little kisses during but it’s predominantly to make you laugh while you’re crying if when you do get overwhelmed.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Finds it funny to jerk it over you and make a mess but otherwise has no real interest in it.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Every type of pain/weapon involvement he can think of. Cnc because overpowering you is part of the thrill. Forced orgasms for - you guessed it - the mess.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Anywhere and everywhere, has no preference or sense of decency. If you so much as hint you’re needy, he’ll bend you over a park bench.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Doesn’t really get “turned on” beyond bloodlust type feelings, so all I’m going to say is this: period sex.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Anything that could fatally wound you, because you’re his favourite toy <3

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Giving. Smearing black and white paint all over your thighs, bruising them with his teeth, smearing the essence of you all over his face? Yeah. He’ll stay down there so long you’ll regret asking it of him, because if you think he’s stopping even after you pass out from exhaustion…you’re mistaken.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Has no concept of sensuality, will only go slow to torture you, but is definitely a more frantic “lover”, if you want to call him that. Goes like a rabbit, and that’s not just true for his cock, either. Fingers, tongue - he’s not slow with any part of himself when it comes to you. He’s not patient about getting the results he wants, but once he’s making a mess of you, he’ll take his sweet time doing anything more than just making the mess worse.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He carries a stopwatch in his black bag of goodies so he can keep a record of how quick he can make you cum at any given time - quickies are this man’s specialty. It’s all a game.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Hahahahahahahahaahahahahahahahahahahahahaahahahahahahahahahahahahaha.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Considering his own release isn’t something he really cares about or prioritises, he can go for as long as it takes to almost paralyse you. And he’s not stopping then, either.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Let’s be clear: it’s not teasing to Art, it’s torture. Orgasm denial, making you as messy as humanly possible before letting you cum, is the name of Art’s favourite game.

He’s a far more dominant than submissive person in the bedroom, to the extent he will lie there and pretend to yawn while you bounce on his cock to get yourself off without any help from him. Because he’s mean like that. He’ll mock your facial expressions, point and silently laugh at the sounds of your body while he’s fucking you; it’s fun for Art.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

🤨

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

A lot more asexual than people realise, solely based on a lack of general interest into any sex act for what it is. As far as he knows, sex doesn’t typically include blood or pain, so…what’s the point? Art has better things to do that are more fun. Like inventing new torture devices and then using them. But when he meets you, learns about your needs and how he can satisfy you, he realises there is an entirely new world of bodily fluids that he needs to get very well acquainted with.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

I mean…we all saw-

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

As previously explained, Art doesn’t have a sex drive, really. He just likes mess and finds it fun. That said, whenever and wherever you need him, Art will make you regret it.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Art doesn’t sleep, but he understands - begrudgingly - that you need to. Whether he stops playing while you sleep is another matter.

157 notes · View notes

misssakuramochi · 2 months ago

Text

A SENKU x READER DRABBLE

Synopsis: Normally, you're perfectly happy to idle away at Senku's side as something of an assistant, helping wherever he might need you. It's not until a few hard-hitting comments by the campfire that you start to think you might be overcrowding your favourite scientist.

Requested by: A Lovely Anonymous Requester

Request: 'I am sorry I am distrubing you but do you open for request now? I apologize if Iam impolite but if yes, can I request drabble of senku x reader (dr.stone) where reader is a clingy person who follow Senku everywhere and do things Senku ask that are within her ability. Reader love language is physical touch though doesn't show it to Senku because afraid of annoying him. Basically , How do you think Senku will react if Reader suddenly doesn't cling to him anymore because afraid of annoying him.'

Age Rating: N/A

Warnings: Topics of insecurity and self-doubt

Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort

There was no way to sugar coat it, or any more flattering way to splice it; you were, for better or for worse, clingy. You knew it - Senku knew it - everyone knew it. It wasn’t a secret you exactly tried to keep hidden. Mindful as you tried to be of others social energy and where it might not align with yours, you couldn’t help but find your days more enjoyable when you had those you cared for at your side to enjoy them with you. It wasn’t always romantic - you tended to cling to your friends, too, often finding yourself craving the company of some manner of companion over the entertainment of your own thoughts. Of course, that wasn’t to say it was entirely unromantic either. Once the spark of attraction was lit, you couldn’t help but crave the attention of the person who interested you most over that of anyone else. So, once you had finally realized just how much you had come to like Senku, you had begun to find it hard to keep yourself apart from him.

Very much contrary to yourself, Senku wasn’t a person for such sentiments. He had a goal in mind, and if he wanted to finish it in time to see it come to fruition he had a lot to get done. For better or for worse he was level-headed, practically minded, and extremely logical. If spending time with someone would take away from his goals, he wasn’t going to be inclined to do it nearly so often, enjoy their company or not.

Drawbacks as they may have had, the machinations of Senku’s mind were something you’d come to love about him. His over-logical, straightforward responses often triggering fondness in your chest where others may have faltered under his blunt-faced words. Respect his nature as you might, though, none of that stopped you from wanting to spend time with him. So, you resolved ever-simply to make yourself useful.

It wasn’t as though that was a particularly tedious goal for you to start. It had always been important to you to be useful, to help the people you cared for however you might be able to. After the world’s descent into stone it was more important now than ever to work together, anyway, so helping Senku rebuild what was lost hardly seemed to be any sort of burden.

Before long you’d earned yourself the honorary title of Senku’s loyal assistant. Though it was a name first given to you in jest by Gen, who’d opted to poke a little fun at you for your ever-obvious feelings for your mad scientist of a leader (and he had been chastised rather quickly by Senku for it) it hadn’t taken too many more days of you following around after Senku to help with whatever work he happened to find for himself for the nickname to catch on.

It had embarrassed you at first, a little, to be called out so bluntly for the way you followed Senku about, admittedly a bit like a lost puppy. But, behind the teasing words were kind smiles and supportive friends, and soon you’d settled into the moniker. Once you’d begun to take the jabs with teasing pride Senku’s disdain for them all but seemed to disappear, the joke becoming commonplace.

A loud voice pulled you from your reminiscence and a slight inclination of your head brought Yo into view, arms waving enthusiastically above his head as he beckoned you to join the group he sat with at the fireside.

“Yo! It’s [Name]! Rare to see you out of the lab. Senku finally pass out on his paperwork?” The bellowing laughter that came to follow would have told you Yo was drunk even without the wafting smell of stone-age alcohol that coated him like overapplied cologne, hitting you like a wall as you came closer. Still, rambunctious as he got, he wasn’t… bad, exactly. So, even as a bulky arm wrapped around your shoulders and pulled you into a sloppy, sideways hug, you just gave Yo an awkward smile.

“Oh, no, he just told me I should take a break. We’ve been working since lunch so I thought maybe I’d bring him someth--”

“Ahhh, that’s rough!” Yo’s sudden exclamation took you by surprise, especially as one dramatic arm (the one that wasn’t still holding you in a drunken embrace) raised to hold his brow, lips downturned in a deep frown, “No wonder you came to grab a drink, eh? You! Go get them a double.” Though you initially met Yo’s apparent sympathy with blank-eyed confusion, the solemn nods of the others around the fire had your brow slowly curving in concern. While the agreement of Yo’s men was questionable, even Magma and Mantle were nodding along as if witnessing some unspoken tragedy that you, despite being the star of, had yet to be informed about.

“Can’t say I blame him though. A man needs some space every now and again.” Magma’s shrug, heavy but dismissive as he threw a clean-gnawed bone into the fire, put together the missing pieces for you.

“Hey, don’t feel bad. Don’t get me wrong, Senku’s a good guy but he’s like. Weird, you know? Here, don’t beat yourself up.” Though Yo seemed to pick up on your shift in mood as your face fell, and you knew he was well intentioned as he pushed the drink he’d had one of his subordinates fetch you towards your face, but the acidic smell of alcohol against your nose burned like insult on top of injury, and as your mind swirled in new-found paranoias you found your feet moving, quickly untangling from Yo’s light grip as you found yourself needing to be anywhere else.

“Um, sorry I’m not really thirsty. I have something I need to take care of, so…” Polite as ever you tried not to trip over yourself as you made your exit, struggling to keep your voice even over the lump aching in your throat. Too distracted to catch the way Yo turned to chastise Magma, you found your thoughts all-encompassing, your walk back to the small hut that served as your sleeping quarters a blur of whirling emotion and the strained effort to hide it.

You had been trying, for a long time, to tell yourself that you weren’t a bother. There were others in the village who were stronger than you, smarter than you, more dexterous and more inventive. But, you had always told yourself that none of that mattered. Maybe you couldn’t be as intelligent and persistent as Senku and his unwavering spirit; maybe you couldn’t be as quick to learn and improvise as Chrome; maybe you couldn’t be as fast as Kohaku, as strong as Magma, as charismatic as Gen, but if you could just be useful, it didn’t matter. If you could just help everyone, anyone, in whatever way you could, you had told yourself that that would be enough. But, maybe you were a liar. Maybe all of that, all of those thoughts, were nothing more than an elaborate way to free yourself of the guilt of trying to steal all of Senku’s time away for yourself; of being deeply, whole-heartedly selfish. Were you even trying to help him, anyone else, at all? Or did it just benefit you?

It would be those thoughts that kept you paralyzed for the next week. Each temptation to find Senku, to check in on his progress or see if he might be in need of a hand, was met with the icy thought that he may very well prefer that you didn’t. Hesitation held a cold grip on your heart, squeezing when you pictured the confrontation. If you asked Senku if you were a bother, you knew he wouldn’t lie to you. While Senku’s honesty usually made you feel safe, right now you couldn’t help but admit that it scared you. And so, you found yourself spending your days shying away from the lab you’d spent the last several months in, time spent with the others keeping you sated and perhaps sane as they drove away the chattering demons of self-doubt. Living to keep the demons at bay led you into a pattern of monotony, empty-eyed and unenthused as you painted on a smile you knew wasn’t as convincing as you wanted it to be. Still, it was better than being a burden.

It was the final evening after your week of reclusion that you finally felt something other than cold emptiness and choking depression; hysterical terror. Though, this stint of horror was blessedly short lived.

When the end of your work days came you had, as of late, found yourself longing for the thoughtless bliss of sleep almost desperately. Shrugging free of your clothes as you walked into the mud and straw building you’d come to call home you’d drop into a bed of straw and wait for the darkness to come. It had become such a standard routine that, when it was broken, you thought yourself viable to have a heart attack. Stepping into a dark home and hanging the leather overcoat that kept you warm through the change of seasons and seeing movement in the dark would have been enough to set you on edge; the lighting of your bedside candle from across the room made you scream.

“Wh-- hey, it’s me! Calm down!” Standing at the opposite end of your hut, illuminated now in the flickering orange of candlelight, Senku had the audacity to look annoyed by your reaction to his break-in. As you stared at his familiar, flat expression you found your fear begin to ebb - only for it to flow back as your eyes caught the shadow cast on the wall. In the unsteady light of a tiny flame his hair swirled in angry shadows behind him, limbs overlong and twitching; Senku, and the version of him you’d been so afraid to face. It didn’t look like he was going to let you run anymore, either.

“What are you doing in my room?” Senku’s frown only dipped as you posed your question, eyes locking with yours with a stern hardness that told you he wasn’t here to play games with you.

“You’ve been avoiding me.” Seeing you open your mouth to protest Senku raised and hand and continued, not giving you the opportunity to defend yourself; he didn’t want to waste time with the argument, “You’ve spent approximately 10 hours each day in the science lab working on projects with me each month up until last week - when you stopped coming altogether. You also haven’t been to any of the places you normally go, which means you’re avoiding whoever might look for you there.” Senku’s eyes dared you to challenge him, crossed arms speaking of his rigidity. Still, with your shoddy plans and simple intentions laid so plainly bare, it was hard to find any genuine argument.

“Well?” His simple response in the face of your downtrodden guilt snapped your eyes back from the floor to his, the casual, brow-quirked expression on his face only surprising you further. He hardly seemed upset - just impatient, perhaps as his hands found his hips and he inclined his head slightly towards you, “What did I do?”

This time your shock seemed to surprise him, too. Still, you couldn’t help your wide-eyed stare as, once again, the pieces clicked into place. You’d fit in the ones Magma had given you before, but you hadn’t stopped for even a moment to consider if they were even a part of the right puzzle. So overwhelmed with self-doubt and anxiety, you hadn’t stopped to see if they added to the right picture. While you’d been busy drowning yourself in your own tears, Senku had been trying to figure out how he’d upset you.

“N-no, Senku, it wasn’t--”

“Seriously, don’t bullshit me. If you’re mad at me I can’t fix it if--”

“Senku.” It wasn’t often that you spoke so softly and so genuinely, old habits of smiling to appease and speaking to placate carrying over even in this new world. It took Senku off guard to hear you speak his name that way, your smile somehow both guilty and earnest as you finally crossed the room to stand closer to your friend.

“I mean it. You didn’t do anything.” As his eyes pushed you for explanation you found yourself becoming bashful, gaze escaping his as nervous hands began to play with grown out strands of your hair as if you'd find an excuse less embarrassing than the truth within their tresses, “I just got worried that I was bothering you so I decided to give you some space.”

Senku’s eyes, narrowed as his lips pursed to push out a small hum, told you that explanation wasn’t quite enough for him - he could tell there was more, and he wasn’t about to let you go with any unspoken turmoils. Not after he’d gone through all the effort of learning your ever-changing schedule to corner you just to address them.

“Yeah? Who told you that?” The way your shoulders stiffened at the question told Senku immediately that he’d hit the right nail, and rather directly. It made him pause, for just a moment, thinking about how you specifically must have felt being made to think of yourself as burdensome; he was quick to sigh off the dull ache it caused in his chest, shrugging to himself. He’d found you and cleared the issue, which he supposed was all that really mattered now.

“Yo and Magma said that maybe… I should give you… space…” Senku had finally been ready to let it go when you opted to answer. The way he looked at you as you spoke, though, took away what little steam you’d had starting the sentence. Mouth having cocked ever so slightly ajar as brows flattened and eyes focused in on you, Senku’s reaction to this information was obvious. It did little to ease your embarrassment when his words came out to echo what his face already spoke clearly.

“You took advice from Yo and Magma?” Despite himself Senku found a grin quirking his lips as your cheeks tinged pink, pouting over your light-hearted embarrassment at having your actions laid bare so logically. As you began to whine about his assessment, Senku found himself unable to hold back a laugh. He couldn’t deny that you were cute.

“Look.” The sudden serious shift to Senku’s tone took you off guard once more, pout-protruded lips parting as you snapped back to genuine attention, “You don’t bother me. If I needed more time to myself I’d just say that.” Though the casual way he scratched at his ear feigned ease, you knew he was trying to settle your nerves.

“Besides,” Senku’s grin turned sharper as his voice took on a teasing lilt, fingers raising to give your cheek a teasing pinch, “who’s going to test out all of our experiments if I don’t have my assistant with me, huh?” As often as others had referred to you as Senku’s assistant, he’d never admitted it himself; hearing the words from his mouth made your heart clench and you moved despite yourself as your arms came to wrap around Senku’s waist, pulling him in for the hug you’d been aching to give him for ages.

Much as Senku groaned a mild complaint about the overly-emotional contact he made no move to resist you, fighting only the smile that threatened to show his thoughts more honestly on his lips than he wanted, for the moment. Rather, he allowed you your moment, reciprocating by means of a somewhat stiff hand resting atop your head.

“If you’re worried about something just talk to me about it. That makes the most sense.” Even under the light chastisement you just smiled, nodding into the loose leathers of Senku’s clothes. You’d spent more than enough time to find comfort in his bluntness, knowing he had just as much told you not to be stupid next time as he had told you that he was there to support you, and he didn't want you hesitating to rely on him.

“Thanks, Senku.”

“Yeah.” A soft scratch to your hair made you hold tighter, and Senku was quick to take to surprise.

“You can let go of me now.”

“One more minute.”

“Eh?!”

xxxxxxxxxxx

A/N: Hello Anon! Please do not worry, my requests are open and I am always happy to have more things to write! You were not rude at all. Thank you for your request. I hope you like how it turned out!

As always, thank everyone else who took the time to read as well, and I hope you enjoyed just the same.

Safe travels, readers!

#dr stone #dr stone x reader #senku ishigami #senku ishigami x reader #dr stone drabbles #dr stone headcanons #dr stone imagine #dr stone fluff #fluff #dr stone hurt/comfort #hurt/comfort

232 notes · View notes

feralforfrank · 2 years ago

Text

── EVERYTHING WILL BE JUST FINE.

SIMON "GHOST" RILEY X FEM!READER

summary the aftermath of the mission that almost causes the loss of your life.

cw description of a panic attack (reader has one), canon codmw2 violence & mentions of it, feeeeeeelingssssss, hurt/comfort, atp mutual pining & idiots in love. NON-DESCRIPTIVE READER. TELL ME IF I MISSED ANYTHING!!!!

note some people asked for part two, sooooo!!! i delivered :)

1,5K | masterlist

When you opened your eyes, it was because of the horrid images that haunted your eyelids. You woke with a gasp and a ripple of pain spreading through your whole body. The room was dark and cold, but you felt the soft mattress underneath you begging to swallow your exhausted body.

It all came to you slowly. The mission, the men trying to escape with your team's hidden car, you leaving your post and sneaking behind them, fighting them, and managing to get stabbed two times. The pain in your side was becoming more and more apparent now.

A flash of Ghost holding you in his arms makes you tense. He'd come to your rescue. Called you darling. Held you in his arms and reassured you that you'd be okay. You're fine. Nothing that can't be fixed. I can fix it.

Your heart fluttered, and your gaze blurred with tears. It wasn't right to have a crush on your superior, but you couldn't help yourself. Everything about Simon Riley fascinated you—from his continuous silences and intense glares to his very attractive build. You didn't need to see his face to know he was drop-dead gorgeous. The mask was one of the things that made Ghost even hotter.

But it was wrong. Ghost's your lieutenant, your superior, and there was no way he'd ever feel the same way about you anyway. You doubt he could feel love sometimes. He cared for his team, that's for sure, but this line of work didn't allow deep and romantic sentiments.

The jiggle of the door handle snapped you out of your thoughts. You jumped, causing your wounds to throb. A poorly contained whimper escaped your lips. Your heart sped up in fear, and your left hand tried to look for the knife strapped to your left thigh.

Fuck, it's not there.

The silhouette slips in, and you swear your heart feels about to leap from your throat. A tear slides down your cheek as the man approaches your side. Shit, he's here to kill you. Finish you for what you did to his companions.

In your panicked haze and blurred gaze, you don't hear Simon calling your name. You see him set down a tray next to your head, and fuck—he's going to torture you first? Where the fuck is Ghost? Soap? Gaz?

"K-Kyle?" You try, but your voice is hoarse and not as loud as intended.

Your gaze falls to the door, and you call Johnny's name. Then Simon's. You plead, but it's still not loud enough. More tears slide down your face, your ears ring, and your body shakes under the blanket.

"—ocus! Focus on me, Owl! You're safe here!" The man calls your name. "I'm not gonna hurt ya, darlin'."

Darlin'.

Darlin'. Darlin'!

Ghost.

And suddenly, the ringing in your ears subsides, and panic isn't bubbling hot in your blood. You feel his hands now, touching your bare shoulders—cold fingers touching scorching skin—shaking you to pull you out of your living nightmare.

"It's okay, lovie. S'alright. You're alright." He shushes you, sitting next to your feet.

"Help me up," you whisper.

Ghost reluctantly helps you sit up, gently touching your wrists. He towers over you to adjust the thin pillows on your back. Your gaze never leaves him. He's rid himself of the tactical vest, only wearing his tight-as-shit shirt, pants, and of course, his balaclava. Thank fuck, it's not the skull one. You melt at how he cares for you, despite you having fucked up the whole operation.

He grabs a bottle of water from the tray, and you have to remind yourself that it doesn't carry torture devices. The man in front of you is Lieutenant Simon "Ghost" Riley, not the enemy. You gulp the water greedily like you've been walking in the desert under the scorching heat for hours.

"Want another one?" He asks. You shake your head.

There's a pause. The silence isn't tense but not comfortable. The nagging guilt—from both of you—holds you back from being truly open with each other.

You should've never left your post. The team would've been able to escape without the car anyway. Your thoughts are never-ending.

Simon wants to punch himself. He shouldn't have had to carry you to the car. The guilt of letting you get hurt punctured a hole in his chest.

A sniff brought him back. "I'm sorry."

He looks at you. Stares at you with those emotionless eyes, and you hate it. You hate that you can't guess what he's thinking. You'd fucked up that much is true.

"Fuck—" You hiccup and look away from him. "I didn't mean to. I panicked. I thought—I don't know what I thought. I'm sorry, Ghost, truly—"

"What're you sorry for?" His hard tone startles you.

You look at him, confused more than ever. "I fucked up the mission. Got hurt in the process too. We would've been in base by now had it not been for my fuck-up."

"You protected the team."

"No, I put my team and this mission in jeopardy."

"You took care of a threat, Sargeant." His tone was final. "You did your job. Greatly."

You inhale deeply, your eyes meeting Simon's. His gaze is like stone, but you can see the glint of pride he has for you.

"I was so scared." Fuck you for tearing up again. You felt weak.

You look down at your hands. The light slipping through the open door allows you to see the dark colour they have. Your blood—God, you hope it's yours—stains your palms and reaches up to your wrists.

"I told you I'd fix it," Simon says, and you melt at his words. "Fixed you up pretty good, all things considered."

It makes you laugh. The timing isn't great, but the chuckle escapes before you can stop it.

"Thank you, Ghost. I owe you big time."

He shakes his head. "Don't mention it. I'm your Lt. I'm supposed to keep you safe and alive."

Lt.

I'm your Lt.

It stings. You want him to call you darling and lovie again. You purse your lips and nod your head, feeling awkward thinking such thoughts with him present.

"Thank you." You pause, looking for something to ask Ghost—so he doesn't leave. You can't be alone right now. "Where are we?"

"Deep in the woods. They can't find us here."

Pursing your lips, you nod, feeling relieved. The silence returns, and Ghost exhales. "That's soup and meds for the pain. Not much, though. I don't want you passing out."

He stands to leave, and you jump, completely forgetting about the stitched wounds. "Where are you going?" Simon stills at the fear in your voice.

"Leaving?"

It comes out as a question—not what he'd intended. He was fighting the urge to show you how scared he'd been—and still is—after almost having you dead in his arms. The sentimental feelings toward you are growing stronger every second he spends with you, and it's dangerous. He has to stop permitting himself to feel. To hope that one day you'll feel the same for him. God, he feels like a teenager just thinking these thoughts.

But how can he not hope? When you look at him with wide, terrified eyes, swimming in unshed tears. When you're gripping the bowl of soup, he made carefully just for you, silently pleading with him to sit a tad bit longer.

He can see your lips tremble, but you hide it well by pursing them. The words are on your tongue, but you can't bring yourself to ask him to stay because fuck. How much more can you ask from this man? He saved you, patched you up, made you food, and now you wanted him to stay, purely out of fear. It's embarrassing to request this, especially in your line of work.

So, Simon decides to do it for you. "Unless you want me to stay?"

Your expression is shocked, but you eagerly nod before he can change his mind. You scooch to make room for his big frame on the small bed, and he actually manages to lay next to you, a hand draped on the bedframe to pull you closer.

You feel safe. Simon tends to make people feel this way. It's not only his large frame but how he carries himself and shows affection to the people he cares about. It doesn't matter if you talk or stay silent—he prefers silence—Ghost's presence is relaxing enough for you to eat your soup and drink your meds.

And when you finish, he grabs the bowl and places it next to him. When you start to drift off and snuggle closer to steal his warmth, he forces his tense shoulders to loosen and pulls you closer. He kisses the top of your head, and your hair tickles his cold nose even through his balaclava.

He knows his back will ache from the uncomfortable position he's sitting in, but he doesn't care because you're alive. Alive and safe. In his arms. And it's all that matters right now.

4K notes · View notes