I am 20 y/o non binary and bisexual multi fandom writer/artist❤️/ 🕊 I prefer if my audience remained to be 18+ due to the fact I write nsfw 🕊 My Fandoms as of now include resident evil, Dead By Daylight, Armored Core, Genshin Impact, Dying Light and jojos bizarre adventure
Dr. Victor Gideon x Reader Headcanons (SFW, mild themes of NSFW)
You know what they say: if there is none, make some yourself 🙏
I’ve never actually written out my thoughts/headcanons like this before, but mercy days. This man has me completely entranced and I NEED more of him. I gotta put my thoughts down somewhere or they’re gonna drive me nuts 😭 I hope this can help other Victor enjoyers who also crave for more content lol
I’ll do my best to make this a GN reader, but in case I’m not quite on the mark it may tend to lean toward AFAB reader [this is my first time writing in an -x Reader fashion :,) ]
• Victor is a fashionable man who enjoys clothing of fine quality (no surprise there: gold grills?? The floor-length diamondback rattlesnake duster?? Impeccable). He doesn’t dress for social approval, necessarily. But he does like to be seen, especially by you. Even more so when your awe comes with a twinge of fright. He can’t get enough.
He loved watching your eyes grow wide at the first sight of him, shock just barely concealed behind a nervous smile. Snake tongue poking out between his lips momentarily, as if to taste your rising discomfort; stepping closer to you, his duster groaning with the leathery friction of movement. The cool metal of his rings on your skin as, despite your instincts telling you otherwise, he handles you oh so gently,,, He knows he’s physically imposing, and he enjoys how his clothing style emphasizes that.
• Speaking of which,,, Absolutely massive. This man is a behemoth. Easily 8ft; personally, I think 8’5. It takes literally nothing for Victor to hold you, toy with you, do as he pleases with your form. But of course, he would never truly hurt you; such a perfect evolutionary specimen shouldn’t be discarded for petty self-interested pursuits of science.
He’d never let you know that with full sincerity, however. Victor is, after all, a sadist. He can only hide that under his gentlemanly demeanor for so long. He’s thoroughly addicted to the brief flash of fear that covers your face when you believe he’ll push your body to the breaking point. Only for him to hush you with soft, calming words of ‘reassurance’ whispered into your ear.
“I don’t want to break you.. Not yet.
Shhh.. come now, no tears.”
(He’ll absolutely let you cry for a minute or so, though. He’d be lying if he said your pretty tears don’t do something to him).
• Definitely the type to plant cameras in your living space. Did y’all see how many cameras he had set up throughout re9??
As soon as his curiosity for you blooms into infatuation, he finds himself (rather uncharacteristically, he notes) wondering about your whereabouts, what you may be doing, who you’re with. He would very quickly grow tired of just wondering, and seek to remedy this ‘work distraction’ on his own.
He finds it efficient. This way, he won’t have to spend valuable time estimating your daily life. He can simply check in on you whenever he sees fit, and return to work satisfied with his findings.
He realizes it’s gone deeper than just infatuation when he finds himself starting to smile at the smallest of things you do in the comfort of your home. He won’t ever admit it, but the thought momentarily frightened him.
• He would, at first, have a clinical approach to his feelings once he understands what they are. Recognize the source, analyze the components, identify the hypothetical solution. Victor is truly a brilliant man, but I doubt he would have previously paid much attention to the intricacies of falling for someone (terminology he hates, by the way. To fall for someone is to lose control, and Victor would never relinquish that to you. You’ll have to find a better way to phase it, if you wish to have a conversation with him about it). But over time, that sterile perspective will start to change. A foreign ache burns in the pit of his chest- desire, he ascertains- becoming a more frequent sensation with each passing day. He can’t for the life of him pinpoint what exactly it is about you that ensnared him this way, but as the weeks turn into months, he discovers it’s not one thing.
It’s all of you. He craves every single part of you, and at times he feels it may drive him mad.
• Touchy. Victor is TOUCHY with you. This man absolutely loves tactile sensations, especially the feeling of your soft, lovely skin against his scaled hands. It starts off rather small, with light touches to your hands, arms, and shoulders (which, not-so-coincidentally, leads to a passing touch to your neck as well). He will drink in your every reaction, watching to see how the smallest of things will affect you. Studying you as he might in an experiment. Waiting for the sweet, flustered look that always seems to cover your face when he’s this close. He’d soon need more.
That’s when he would discover how much he loves your hair- regardless of if it’s long or buzzed close to the scalp. What a world of sensations for his hands to explore. He will occupy himself with feather-light strokes of your head, and delight in the way you shiver under his touch.
As soon as he has the green light from you to go further, he will run with it. Pulling you into his torso, arms wrapping around you as your back presses against waist; the cold from the metal hook-and-eye fastenings of his top contrasting with the warmth his body radiates. Taking your lovely face in his hands, and dragging his thumb across the plush of your lower lip just to watch it bounce back when he releases. Trailing his hand just a little lower and taking hold of your throat, only ever squeezing the sides enough to cause that lazy, oxygen deprived look to pass over your eyes. He would love to test the limits, but knows he must warm you up first. He wouldn’t want to cause you too much pain.
• Inexperienced romantically, but well-versed sexually; And I WILL elaborate if asked but since I’m keeping this relatively SFW it shall have to wait lol
I really hope you enjoyed these thoughts of mine!! I’m a little tired atm because it’s late at night for me currently but I’m pleased with how this came out for a first try. I may do some more later on though hehehe,,,
Could we see a fic/HCs of when Wesker is under the weather? It's common to see his reaction etc for Y/N having a cold or something but there's not enough of the other way around sobs. Bonus points for tyrant Wesker, living with volatile viruses gotta be nice, smiles.
Cheers!
request are open btw :)
Sick Wesker x Reader ( GN ) || Headcanons
Wesker, always the image of control, is not someone who admits to being sick. At first, he brushes it off, dismissing the discomfort. "I'm fine," he mutters, even though his voice sounds hoarse, and his usually sharp gaze is clouded with exhaustion. When you notice him sneezing, his expression darkens, clearly frustrated by the
weakness.Reluctance to Rest
He refuses to take a day off or slow down, preferring to push through it. His pride doesn't allow him to let others see him vulnerable, even if it's just a cold. You'll catch him wiping sweat from his brow while still pouring over files or training. Still, every few minutes, you’ll notice the slight tremor in his hand or the way he rests against the chair longer
than usual.Uncharacteristic Vulnerability
When Wesker's under the weather, his usual sharp, commanding persona softens—just a bit. He'll avoid direct eye contact when he asks for help, something so out of caracter for him. Even his gaze seems tired, his usual arrogance replaced with an almost mperceptible longing for comfort.
Wants to Hide It
He’s more likely to hide away in his private quarters when sick, unwilling to show weakness. But he won’t refuse when you offer to help. It's more out of necessity than comfort, but the way he leans into your care, almost reluctantly, speaks volumes. He may not admit it, but he does enjoy being taken care of, even if only in small
Tyrant Wesker - Bonus Points
Tyrant Wesker is something else entirely. He's still Wesker, but now his body is a twisted, monstrous version of the man you know. When he's sick in this form, it's both terrifying and tragic. His body fights back against illness in ways that you can't comprehend. You’ll hear him groaning in discomfort, his monstrous form rumbling as he tries to rest—completely outside of his control. His usual cold demeanor becomes a little more... animalistic.
When You Take Care of Him
If you’re caring for him, even in his tyrant form, you’ll find that the dynamic shifts. Normally, Wesker is in control, but when sick, he’ll gratefully (albeit silently) let you help him—whether it's handing him medicine or just sitting with him while he struggles to sleep off the fever. It’s rare, but you’ll see his gaze soften as he watches you look after him, a part of him maybe even longing for the care he's not used
to Grumpy, but Grateful
When Wesker’s sick, he’s irritable. If you try to check his temperature or get him to rest, he’ll grumble and try to avoid it. But you can tell he’s secretly grateful. His usual snide remarks turn into quiet "Thank you" when he thinks you're not looking. He won’t admit it out loud, but he appreciates it more than anything.
Silent Stubbornness
Wesker is stubborn—if he's sick, he’s still not going to stop working. He'll try to push through it, ignoring his body's protests. You’ll find him trying to focus on his usual tasks, but his actions will be slower, and his frustration will become more evident. He’s too proud to acknowledge it, but his body betrays him.
Tyrant Form and Fever
When Wesker transforms into his tyrant form and gets sick, the fever affects him more severely. The virus in his body reacts strangely, mutating his cells even further. He'll shake uncontrollably with chills or overheat with a fever, but his body doesn't allow him to rest, no matter how much he wants it. Watching him in this state is a mixture of worry and awe—he’s both terrifying and vulnerable.
No Room for Comfort
At first, Wesker won't allow any kind of physical comfort. He’ll push away any attempts at making him comfortable—no blankets, no sitting close to him. But when the fever gets worse, you’ll catch him leaning into your touch ever so slightly, even if his pride doesn’t let him fully admit it.
The “Get Out of My Way” Phase
As he tries to power through, his patience runs thin. Any attempt to help him—whether it's bringing him soup or offering water—will be met with a sharp, “I can do it myself.” It’s his way of maintaining control over a situation where he's feeling weak. But in reality, he knows he can't.
A Rare Show of Weakness
There’s a moment—just one—when Wesker’s guard will fully drop. When the fever is at its peak and his body has been pushed too far, he’ll collapse onto the couch or bed, exhausted and sweating. The sight of him like this is shocking because it’s the one time he’s completely vulnerable and human. You can see the cracks in his armor, and that’s when his true weakness is laid bare.
Tired but Determined
When Wesker is sick, you can see the determination in his eyes to get better, even if his body is screaming for rest. He’ll push himself to get up, even when it’s clear he should be in bed. The strength of his will is impressive, but it’s also heartbreaking to see him fighting against the inevitable.
Unspoken Care
Wesker will never say the words, but when he’s sick, he’s incredibly attuned to your well-being. If you’re also feeling under the weather, he’ll start making sure you’re comfortable too, even if it’s just offering you a blanket or reminding you to drink fluids. It’s a subtle gesture of care, but it’s there.
Tyrant Wesker and Lurking Pain
In his tyrant form, Wesker’s body is much less human, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel. When he gets sick, his entire monstrous form is twisted in pain. It’s an excruciating sight, and he won’t let anyone see him like this. But he doesn’t have the same tolerance for discomfort in this form, so you'll find him growling or twitching with frustration. His body is more machine now, but it’s still vulnerable to certain human conditions.
Sudden Vulnerability
Wesker’s usually stoic expression cracks when he’s sick. He’s not one for outward emotion, but when a particularly harsh coughing fit takes over, you’ll notice his façade faltering. His golden eyes darken with exhaustion, and for a brief second, you can see the vulnerability he usually hides so well.
The Need for Silence
Wesker is a man who thrives in control, and when sick, he craves the quiet. He’ll avoid speaking unless absolutely necessary. His irritation with the slightest noise will spike, and he’ll find a dark, quiet corner of the room or his office to hide out in. If you disturb him, he may snap, but deep down, he just wants peace.
The Cold Treatment
It’s not just the sickness that bothers Wesker—he hates feeling cold when he’s ill. When you insist he stays in bed to rest, you’ll catch him pulling the covers around himself, trying to keep warm, which is a rare sight. He’s always the one who makes others uncomfortable with his cold demeanor, but when sick, he’ll practically bury himself in blankets.
Reluctant Caregiver
Even when he’s sick, Wesker’s still a bit of a control freak. If you show any signs of illness, he’ll insist on helping you in his own cold, meticulous way. He may not be the warmest caregiver, but you can tell he takes some strange comfort in being needed. When you’re sick, he’ll pull out the same ice-cold efficiency, ensuring you're taken care of, even if it’s mostly through practical tasks.
The "I'll Be Fine" Phase
Even when he’s at his worst, Wesker will still try to act tough. "I’m fine," he’ll say with a strained smile, even though it’s obvious he’s not. When you insist that he rests, he’ll give you a long, exasperated look before sighing and reluctantly accepting it. His stubbornness is a defense mechanism, but it’s also his way of dealing with the shame of needing help.
A Rare, Quiet Moment
Eventually, when he’s feeling a bit better, Wesker will sit quietly, perhaps sipping on some tea or drinking water, and you’ll notice a rare softness in his gaze. He’s not saying much, but in these moments, you can feel how much he’s letting you in. For someone like Wesker, that’s a huge thing.
“Get Out of My Way, I’m Not Sick”
Even when he's running a fever and visibly pale, Wesker will argue with you about resting. He’ll mutter things like, “Get out of my way,” or “I’m not sick, you’re overreacting.” But he’ll still sit back and let you help him when he knows he’s too far gone to fight it anymore.
Tyrant Wesker's Struggle to Relax
When Wesker is in his tyrant form and under the weather, you can see the raw struggle. His monstrous body, still built for dominance and destruction, now feels clumsy, weak, and uncoordinated. It’s like watching a perfect machine suddenly begin to rust. His usual cocky attitude is gone, replaced by grunts of frustration as his body betrays him in ways he can't control.
Unusual Requests
When he's sick, Wesker might make odd, almost out-of-character requests. "Bring me something to drink," he might say, his voice raspy, or even, "Sit with e for a moment." These moments are fleeting, but they’re significant—they show that, even in his illness, he craves the comfort and attention that he’s rarely willing to accept.
The Return to Normal
Once Wesker begins to recover, his usual cold, calculating demeanor will return, but with a faint undercurrent of gratitude. He won’t vocalize it, but you’ll notice that he’s less harsh, more thoughtful. It’s almost like he’s trying to remember what it felt like to be cared for, and he’ll carry that unspoken appreciation with him, at least for a while.
Note: Made this honestly for myself, been struggling allot emotionally and mentally and I really just needed to write something to give me comfort. I decided to share this in hopes of giving others struggling with similar situations a comfort as well! :') I do want to apologize if this writing comes off as rude or ignorant in any kind of way, I've mainly used my own experiences to tailor this together but I've tried to use universal language to make it feel more personal to the reader. I hope you guys enjoy 💞
The day you opened up to him about your assault or rape was when you were having a particularly bad day in your head, you were having flashbacks of that very moment that ruined you for the rest of your life. Your depression, anger and confusion hit you like a train. You didn't want to be around anyone, not even the man who was trying so hard that day to get you to open up about what was getting you so down. But for whatever the reason maybe, you just couldn't. He worked during what felt like, every damn day of the week, he had enough on his plate. Plus, fear and apprehension was keeping you radio silent the longest. What if he just rolled his eyes, laughed and didn't believe you? Then what? Your relationship wouldn't be the same or just wouldnt exist anymore at all so you thought anyways. Chris would leave you in a heartbeat, no questions asked.
"Baby no- I'm sorry, I can for a fact guarantee you are talking out your ass right now. It's written all over your face."
You could imagine him, you could imagine him saying those very words and right there and then everything you've built with him over the years would fall apart in mere seconds.
I could imagine that in reality, he'd be always ready to talk no matter what or how he's feeling. Because right now, he could matter less. trying to offer you comfort in the forms of snacks, blankets hugs and kisses.
What alarmed him was when you'd force yourself out of his embrace, when you'd stay away from the comforts that you may have typically enjoyed.
He'd be worried sick alright, calling Claire for advice on how he could better help you and maybe get a idea of what your silent struggles where about lately.
You'd sit with him after a few days, and he'd listen face to face with you ears eyes and thoughts all devoted to you, his angel.
"Oh hun...I'm so so sorry, I should have been less pushy. I'm so sorry."
He'd whisper in a quiet, softer voice. Letting you throw yourself at him for a tight hug, all he could feel was- hurt. He felt hurt seeing you hurt, especially THIS hurt. He may not be able to fully understand your pain, but he empathizes and wants nothing more than to take care of you in any way he could.
You want a bubble bath? Say less, your his number one priority.
Takeout from your favorite place, he's getting something from there too.
Or if you just want to vent about it, if you just need his undying attention then so be it.
He'd listen to you all day, keeping you wrapped in his enormous arms safe against his chest and safe in the four walls of your shared space.
"You are so so strong sweetheart, so brave and stronger than you think. I'd say, your stronger than me and my men, your safe here and I'll make sure it stays like that. If you ever need to talk, you know you'll have me, whatever you need."
He'd reassure you in that warm voice of his, like honey his words fell from his lips if you needed to cry or already crying, He'd keep you held close against him, letting you get everything out.
If you needed sometime in therapy, Chris would search for the best place money could buy. He wanted you to feel well, to feel cared and loved and thought about.
I could imagine him to be a VERY patient man, if you were having a flashback that day or just very upset and angry he'd understand and let you express your needs. Weather through writing them down gesturing, or just out right telling him. He'll let you decide and be right with you to support your health and mind.
If there were certain things that especially reminded you of the time, Chris would ask you to either tell him or write it down so that way he'll know to not bring it up or bring a said object near you just to give an example.
If you liked to draw, paint or bake or just chill and watch movies. He'd definetly do these activities with you whenever he's available, he'd definitely check in with you more than previously either texting calling or just asking in person. He knows this is a very delicate moment and time for you, so he'll keep tabs on you 24/7.
When he's away and on duty for work, I can imagine him going to Leon and asking if he could find for him any Intel on your abuser. And during his time away from home, he'd make it his personal mission to find and take care of the waste of air who hurt his precious sunshine.
Note: These are just some personal headcanons of mine, apologies if anything is out of character </3
♡ I feel like Wesker would be intrigued by the very dark and elegant way you dressed and presented yourself, I feel like he'd definetly find a kick out of matching outfits with you. Weather you be into trad goth, mall goth, Gothic lolita- he'd eye every detail of your makeup, accessories and articles of clothing when you wouldn't notice and use those details in his own outfits
♡If he was to be working, weather in his office or his lab- I think if you were to play your favorite bands/artists he'd enjoy it, especially bands like the smiths, siouxie and the Banshees and twin tribes. Who knows? Maybe if you liked to dance to your music, he'd join you! Maybe you can teach that old man a thing or two
♡Of course first meeting you, he'd keep his distance. Tho the way you presented yourself in those elaborate patterns and chain belts and spikey chokers and exaggerated style of hair and makeup I think would make him feel at ease, finding someone with a similar vibe as his own would definetly be easier for both of you to get along. (I mean- cmon. Have you seen his fit in re5?)
♡Wesker at some point I think would grow to think of you as a important figure in his day to day life, your interests would soon become his own I think. If you liked to read horror books, or dark poetry he'd dive into that genre as well; same with movies if you liked horror/old slasher films- He'd find time out of his busy schedule to watch one with you out of his own genuine interest.
♡He'd definetly find it adorable seeing you wear platform boots, if you were short; He'd find it almost adorable seeing you a good couple inches taller but still not necessarily his height. And if you were already tall; he'd admire the way in which you towered him with confidence, and if you weren't necessarily the most confident individual and more timid- he'd always shower you in quiet whispers of admiration decorating your neck in little kisses if that's something you would like.
♡Besides "dearheart" I definetly see wesker nicknaming you his "darling rose" "baby bat" "little reaper" <3
♡ another headcanon I have is wesker would definetly (but of course with hesitance) let you decorate your shared bedroom with him in whatever decor you like, if you wanted everything crimson red and black. Then crimson red and black it shall be, if you wanted creepy old Renaissance art plastered everywhere or band posters hanging on the walls; He will not bat an eye or say a word. Instead giving you his platinum credit card and let you go wild however you wished, he will deal with whatever debt comes his way if it meant you feeling comfortable and seeing that big smile on your face.
Same thing goes with clothing, you see a nice dress/suit? You'll have it in a handful of days. Want insanely expensive nails that look like claws? No need to ask him twice because he's personally choosing and taking you to the best nail salon money can buy.
You are one of the best scientists working under the great virologist Albert Wesker, your a hard worker and that's something everyone knows. However, what people lack to understand is that you are working yourself into the ground weather it was to be noticed or to get back at your verbally abusive family Your mental health has begun to tumble due to your lack of self preservation and you are on the verge of loosing it, however- you are saved by the last person you would have guessed to come save you from your destructive behaviors.
Note
This is purely fluff! Wholesome (out of character?) Albert Wesker and how I personally depict him reacting to a well respected individual reaching there breaking point, I wanted to write sum' a little more on the softer spectrum of things. Apologies for any inconsistencies/poor writing or phrasing, I will continue to polish this fic before I eventually move onto making another one, all constructive criticism is greatly appreciated!!
TW: mention of poor mental health, past verbal abuse, mentions of alcohol
It wasn't like you to feel such intense waves of emotions, at least not like this. You were good at staying calm under pressure, hell some people would say your a master but it's seems as if the projects as of lately for you have begun to build up an immense pressure weighing on your back.
Your colleagues in the unbrella laboratory you worked at would've been paying close attention when you leased noticed it, your difficulty paying attention, the wandering stares into the void consisting of the white walls infront of you, your stuttering and lack of interest; These were little things that seemed to have been making there ways across the whole facility, making its way to your boss; The well respected and feared Albert Wesker.
You were always ontop of up-coming projects, always pushing yourself and always devoting overtime into the silence of the deep of the hours of night to study your findings and work to improve your ability to understand the things presented to you, even if it costed some hours of rest- To you it didn't matter even if you'd end up sometimes taking a nap at your work station, to say you were obsessed with being the best of the best was a understatement you had a passion- a drive to be just as intelligent as your boss the same man that inspired you to be a virologist in the first place.
You were on a journey not just for your company but you were also on a journey to prove your family wrong; That you could make it that you COULD be something in this life, you wanted to make the years of suffering worth it all that money poured into your golden education WOULD mean something and you gave it your blood, sweat, tears and health to be standing here right now.
But you could feel it, you felt it in your chest beat itself into your core with all the baggage it carried haunting you every night in which you'd spend hopelessly in your bed on the verge of tears wondering why you felt such a need to rip yourself apart like this, to overwork and fatigue yourself till your head sometimes was struck in throbbing pain. You were the best in the company, at least- one of the best why did that not feel enough for you? Why did that cold empty tunnel dug deep in your mind still linger like it had since your younger years?
"You'll never be that good, you lack intelligence."
"You can't even hold a conversation, what makes you think you can become a scientist?"
"Just like your father, you are just like him."
You hated it, the way it made you feel so worthless; "I have to be better"...You repeated in your mind, every minor mistake you'd ever make in the day you'd beat yourself up for it.
"Y/N, c'mon let's get outa here. It's already past-"
"I don't have the time I'm sorry, I know it's the weekend but you know how important this is to Doctor Wesker. Can't just leave these calculations unfinished, I don't want to get bitched at; That's all."
You'd say, hiding the exhaustion in your voice with a room temperature; half cup of burnt black coffee, a result of your lack of attention to the boiling pot earlier that morning.
"Y/N you look like your going to pass out."
They'd announce, there eyes contorted with worry as your figure kept slouched over your work station hair disheveled in a messy bun and somewhat shaky from the four cups of caffiene surging in your system your eyes gave away just how near to passing out you were as your eyelids gave away how heavy they were weighing by how desperate you fought the urge to let them fall and allow yourself to slip into a long long uninterrupted rest.
"Just let me work, I'm almost done anyways."
You'd say in the politest fashion you could muster, but it would role off your tongue in a more passive aggressive mutter. not wishing to speak on your lack of self preservation any further, you wanted to be done with this so you could hopefuly get a well night of rest, you could hear them; The hushed whispers of your colleagues listening to your snappy attitude, some would've laughed while others just turned the other cheek doing there damn best to mind there business.
Your colleague rolled there eyes in reaction to your lack of patience, they'd sway off nonchalantly in a manner that could only be seen as 'carefree' something you lacked.
As one by one your colleagues would disappear from the laboratory, you'd be stuck there once again below the flourescent lighting of the lab that would dim only a hour or so later. You'd stare down at your notebook full of numbers and equations and infront of you sets of testing tubes and a sample of black bile under your microscope sitting aside of your notebook, your mind was a fog a thick fog that clouded your every thought. The only sounds that would keep you company were the tapping of your pencil and the occasional sounds of beeping machinery around you, doubt swallowed you whole your eyebrows knotted together as a wave of distressing sorrow stormed your self control, the inability to think beyond the fog keeping you wrapped in incoherent ideas was tormenting and it infuriated you that a little sleep deprivation was causing you to behave like this.
You couldn't figure out a damn thing, the sample you were provided with was impossible to properly analyze you couldn't make a single conclusion without back tracking, without feeling stupid. You could hear your own voice shaping into the ones of your colleagues, into the one of your idol and family. It angered you- saddened you, you just could never feel adequate enough that you could never find yourself being recognized by the one person that's kept you sane for this long even if he's done little to take notice in you, you were delusional enough to think maybe- he would.
You could feel the cold gusts of air from the vents make your skin rise with goosebumps, your lab coat doing very little to keep you comfortable when your tears poured down on your hard work the pencil markings smudging as you'd whimper silently slumped on your hard, uncomfortable seat.
Slamming your fists harshly on the table in a fit of defeat you felt every emotion pour from your closet of self pity, the closet you'd never share the closet in which you'd spend your recent days glued in because your stubborn nature was the same force causing your downfall, causing you to feel like a piece of common rock amongst the gems untouched by man.
No one was here to hear you, no one to question you or comfort you or god forbid- laugh at you what lingered was just your usual lab equipment and computers.
You craved it, the arms of your boss no- your god caressing your shaking- tired body. You wanted to hear him with his voice in your ear, telling you JUST telling you that YOU were doing enough that YOU weren't the words you stabbed yourself with.
You were so lost in your own thoughts that- You wouldn't notice a hand ever so gently caressing your shoulder, it would make you jump rising from your seat in the slouched state you were quick to clean the stains of salty tears that ran down your cheeks.
Your eyes were a light red, irritated from the crying and lack of sleep.
When your head would peer up to the figure standing next to you, it took you by utter surprise to see wesker beside you staring down at you with those mysterious shades that always sat on his face.
"Crying in my laboratory again, dearheart?" Wesker inquired breaking the heavy silence between you two, his tone was soft and oddly gentle considering he was always such a stern; Serious man when interacting during the day it was a total shift in his personality that made you question his motives, you felt he didn't care about you; Hell you felt that you were just as disposable as all your other colleagues as much as you wanted to deny that. But to you it was worth the risk, Your parents asserted you as 'delusional' and 'childish' for ever thinking you could land a job at unbrella to start with, but you wanted to prove to the world you weren't the pinnacle of these nasty titles everyone in your family painted you with, even if you were delusional at least no one would question your mental superiority now.
"I'm so sorry Dr Wesker, I promise it won't happen again." You were quick to compose yourself, sniffling the build up of snot collecting in your nostrils that made it hard to breathe.
"Is that so?"
He asked after a moment of silence, reading you like the open book you'd been ever since you started here. He knew of your preformance better than anyone else, your work and efforts was something so fascinating to study unfold the ways you mumbled to yourself when you were so deep in thought the way you'd always try to present yourself with so much confidence to him when showing off your latest work you were always one of a kind, a ' special specimen ' to say the very least. Even if he didn't want to admit it he couldn't deny the feelings of admiration he had building for you. When you thought you were alone all those other nights where you'd cry in the isolation of the lab, he'd always be watching through the security cameras always watching how you pleaded shouted and sometimes even pulled at your hair how you'd always refuse your pushy colleagues that wanted to drink with you after work or how you'd always chew pieces of gum instead of taking lunch breaks or isolating yourself from everyone else in order to work better.
Perhaps he found you entertaining because he didn't quite understand your fussy nature, maybe it was because he wanted to see just how far your frustrations would take you, but the more that had became of these occurances the more curious he grew to find out the reasonings for you increasingly wreckless behavior even if it may have made you feel discomfort he WOULD hear from YOUR mouth regardless of what you wanted in the end.
"I'll be going now, I'm so sorry to waste your time like this. I'm sure you must be a very busy man."
You asserted, standing from your little stool chair. Once again, there you were cought totally off gaurd the firm grasp of his leather cladded hand wrapped around your wrist had you take a few glances at him in confusion your mouth gaping just enough to see your teeth and eyes wide like a deer cought in the headlights. His gaze just lingered locked on yours and you could see the dumbfounded expression on your face reflecting back on his shades but no matter how hard you searched his eyes could never be spotted through the pitch black lenses.
"I want an answer, why is it do I find one of my best scientists in such disarray?" He asked, his grip on your wrist not tightening or loosening.
Best...scientist...?
"Sir, with all due respect; I promise it's nothing." You tried your damned best to shrug it off, you've already damaged whatever good your image was. your silly problems wouldn't matter, you thought- "He's too busy to actually care" you'd chant those vicious lines to yourself until you'd find yourself being brought to the reality of the situation his oddly gentle tone wrapping your lonely heart in a metaphorical blanket.
"I won't stop until i get a answer Y/N." He persisted, gently tugging your arm his voice remaining in that calm voice that had you feeling a little unease, it was almost...uncanny. His tone warming you from the inside out.
You didn't have a choice at this point, you knew you'd only wear down his patience with your stubborn words of defiance, something you knew he despised yet here he was taking his sweet time with just another employee of his.
"I just need some time to think sir, I really just need to clear my mind that's all."
You tried to say, surely pushing his buttons when his grip would eventually tighten yanking your body sharply forcing you several steps closer to his body. Eyebrows furrowed and teeth grinding together, you could feel his own strings of self restraint and tolerance snap at your tenacious attitude, it was carefully making him regret coming to initiate any kind of talk with you and the longer you stalled the more time he believed to be squandering.
"If you don't tell me Y/N, I'll insure your time here will come to a swift end."
He threatened, your body was only a few centimeters away from his you could hear his gentle breathing and watch the way his chest effortlessly rised and lowered even through his gritted teeth and the sudden sharpness to his tone the way his threat carried out like a scalpel blade running through your thick skin of stubbornness didn't feel like it carried much real weight at all, but you would be lying if you didn't say it stung like a papercut.
That was enough to bring you to your senses, that crack of patience wearing itself out. The tiniest hint of that smirk ghosting across his cheek now weighing into a gentle scowl, your stomach felt a bit sick just realizing how far you pushed the man made you want to run away and hide forever, run away and just find a new fucking job that wouldn't make you feel such disdain every day. But that couldn't have been an option, you made your bed now you had to make peace and lie in it.
You felt the words pool at your throat, you didn't know where to begin or if you ever could in this moment your voice wanted to elaborate every sensation coursing through you but the only way you could speak is if you lost control of your ability to keep your tears restrained- which in ways you did.
"I just...I just don't feel like...I'm enough...I feel so hollow like...like I just can't...I CAN'T..." your words choked out as you'd hold back the many tears creating rivers of defeat down your cheeks.
You felt so tiny, so lost and disgusted with yourself for breaking down like this infront of your boss, you felt wesker's judgement weigh heavy on you in ways you couldn't describe it hurt in millions of ways letting your words tumble from your lips you felt embarrassed and ashamed and you were so prepared for the lecture of your life when you realized you couldn't stop yourself from blabbering on and on nonsense about your feelings.
After sometime of just listening to you in total silence, eventually wesker would've placed a gentle hand on your cheek cleaning away your endless stream of tears with his gloved fingers.
"I think I've heard enough..."
He said, his other hand gently snaked around your waist pulling you into a much closer embrace till your head was against his chest. For the time being; Watching you stain his expensive clothing didn't seem to bother him like you thought it would've, he didn't pay mind to when you'd sniffle and pant in a desperate attempt to calm down he'd just let you do what you wanted because even if he didn't entirely understand the ways you felt he did his best to pacify your heartache in one of the few ways he knew how.
His hand gently ran through your hair, taking slow steady deep breaths he was trying desperately to be patient doing his damn best to not treat you the same ways he did to everyone else because he truly couldnt bare the thought of pushing you off your limits. At this point you didn't realize the way your arms desperately held onto him like a child seeking validation from there parents your curled fingers wrinkling the back of his lab coat, your nose nuzzling mindlessly into his shirt.
"I'm so sorry sir...I'm so sorry I'm such a fuck up!" You whimpered with quivering lips, you hated this so much- you hated it yet here you stood, practically begging for the validation that was sitting at the back of his throat.
"Shh...it's quite alright, you've done enough. Your work is acceptional in ways I cannot begin to describe, its because of you this division is able to function."
He'd say, slow enough for you to take in every word and also because he was internally scrambling to find the best words to sooth you to begin with.
"Really sir? You think that?" You asked, your eyes hesitantly glazed up to meet his you searched desperately through those damn glasses to see even a minuit detail of his eyes to see through them so you'd know for certain his words weren't just bullshit being tossed at you to keep you quiet.
"I mean it, not many of your generation behave the way you do or work the way you do, It's not your fault so many people cannot reach the levels of success you've obtained. But it's wise for you to know; That you absolutely cannot abuse yourself just to prove a point, to prove your own theories right that you can go for hours working on crumbs of rest and still be the best version of yourself I know you are, because you are just..."
He could have let it slip, he could have said it 'could have simply cheapened your worth to the level of a specimen like he planned to in the beginning, but he'd once again bite his tongue he wouldn't let you hear that word he wouldn't let you become it...not now at least.
"Just a human."
He said, listening to your breathing slow and steady out.
You felt the warmth in his voice fill your empty glass heart, pouring water to keep it full and content. His words repeated in your mind like the record player in your room playing that one favorite song of yours on repeat keeping you company, his presence right here and now was like a light shining down a tunnel full of monsters keeping your fragile self safe keeping you from complete; Irreversible self destruction.
You could hear the hammering of his steady heart beat, it was a sound unlike any other like the bang of a drumbeat or the crackle of furious thunder. Taking in a deep breath the scent of his expensive cologne lingered in your senses while the exhaustion you would have been fighting off for so long would have been taking its course over your aching body and mind.
You couldn't deny his words, if he was telling you this there must've been a truth as for him to even talk to you like this for him to even hold you like this...it must've been something, you didn't have a reason to doubt yourself now not when his fingers gently patted your little head.
"Perhaps you should take your leave my dear, I'll finish where you left off."
He offered, no- he insisted. He wouldn't allow you to keep pushing yourself, to keep going the way you did and pull yourself into your own grave via overworking. He still needed you, he just couldn't let his most valuable asset fall into crumbling bits infront of him and not do a single thing about it.
"Ok..." you'd almost hesitate, it felt like you were letting go of a heavy burden and you almost felt ten pounds lighter just by saying that very simple word. You felt as if you'd regret it, that you'd find a way to overwork yourself again after this, because you had to prove yourself that you could be the best that you were worth this sacrifice of his own rest he was making.
Patting your shoulder, Wesker's lips curled into what seemed to have been a very soft, but present smile of reassurance.
It wasn't long till you'd find yourself in a deep state of rest on your mediocre bed, normally it took a while to get yourself comfortable in that old thing, but not tonight Your own fatigue was what maybe had blessed you, or cursed you because when you'd finally snap out of deep sleep. You'd realize that you had been at least running three hours late. Your hand brushed over to snatch your phone into your hand from the nightstand beside you, pressing the power button the numbers flashed at you reading exactly;
"10:35 AM."
Your stomach felt like it dropped, your small intestines felt as if they were being crocheted and your heart felt like it just exploded from a grenade of panic, your blood felt as if it just drained from every orifice and was replaced with embalming fluid.
You almost forgot about the disaster which was last night, the memories slowly cought up to you whilst you'd fumble with your clothing and hair. You didn't know what to feel, at least not yet you were sure to hear about it from your co workers and boss. I mean...The adult world was no different from your dreaded years of high-school, it didn't matter who was present and who wasn't because these walls had ears. Even if your little mental breakdown was a show for Wesker's eyes and ears only, you could only comprehend the possibilities of your name going around with vicious lies and jealousy, jealousy because it was you that got his attention more than anyone else in that lab.
As your painful heals clicked down the tile flooring to the main center of the lab, you'd use your badge to scan yourself through the doors and as they automatically open you would have been holding in a breath of air. Fear was all you could feel in that particular moment, fear and apprehension to move into the lab but you would've found yourself surprised at the lack of interest they payed to you there busy bodies and minds keeping up with way more important things than noticing your fashionably late presence.
"So you actually got some sleep for once? I don't think I've ever seen you look so well rested in months, jeez...you were starting to look like one of those damn testing subjects for a sec there! I was starting to get worried we would've had to contain ya at some point." Your colleague from yesterday, in a rather disturbingly lighthearted manner announced in his upmost obnoxious tone. Hell, you were surprised no one was talking about HIM or if they were; They were making a damn solid effort not being noticed in doing so.
To compare you to a victim of all those failed test runs took you aback, you weren't sure if maybe he just couldn't hear himself talk or if the alcohol he loved drinking was killing his braincells. You were certain it was, because what mentally sound individual can speak about those weeks of messy trials causing so much havoc so casually? And so jokingly?
All you could do at that moment was let out a very (noticeably) forced chuckle.
"Ya, I was able to catch some hours of sleep. Didn't expect it myself honestly, I'm going to start my work ok? I'm already late." You said with a nervous smile, passing by him in a hurry to get to your work station.
As you'd approach your work station sitting a bit away from the others, you noticed a crimson red bouquet of roses, a box of assorted chocolates and a black little box with a gold symbol ontop of it.
At first, you'd have to take a second glance at the station you hovered over to insure it was the right one, and sure enough it was. Looking at the roses, you had never been so confused before, your eyes investigated the people around you and wondered if there was a secret admirer lurking amongst the large group of fellow scientists. You questioned who in there right mind could possibly ever fall for someone like you? You were a hot mess that needed the hand of your BOSS to finish YOUR work , if that wasn't wreckless to you then you were lost.
Picking up the leather textured box, you'd carefully slip the lid off insuring that everyone could care less at that point to notice probably ignoring you in part because of your little lash-out towards that (well deserving) ignorant 'colleague' if you could call him one at all.
Once the lid slid off, your eyes widened in awe your lips parted as your fingers gently ran over the delicate metal. It was a rose gold bracelet, intricate details danced across the metal appearing as flowers that would have held little crystals in the centers to give the flower accents more appeal and elegance.
You didn't know who could spend this kind of money on some emotionally drained loner like yourself, you didn't deserve these gifts- not a bit. You felt that gifts should only be given, and not received. At least to you this was a philosophy you lived by, internally you felt a tinge of guilt. What if this was really for someone else and you were ruining a surprise never meant for your glassy eyes to begin with? The sender must've gotten mixed up with someone else, that was the only logical explanation.
You probably would've tucked the bracelet away in it's box and hurried in search for its more rightful owner if it wasn't for the black envelope hiding unmistakably under the bouquet of intricately placed roses that were bunched up together by a red bow.
Pulling the envelope to closer inspection, you could see your name written in cursive in what seemed to be a fountain pen.
Yea, this was for you. It wasn't some poor misplacement by any means, your curiosity couldn't have been contained all thoughts of your work was pushed to the side to study this letter and its contents.
Opening the letter, your eyes followed the cursive handwriting staining the light colored beige paper. It would have read;
"Dear Y/N, I have scheduled a private conference between you and I.
You are expected to reach my office at 6:00 PM sharp, I wish to see you in your best attire and wearing this bracelet I've personally chosen for you for this appointment.
Do Not Keep Me Waiting
Signed
A.W"
You weren't sure how to react, you weren't sure weather you should pinch yourself because your whole body became weightless reading those words. You could imagine his velvety tone of voice saying this to you, you were so lost by that letter that you didn't realize the stupid grin growing on your flush red cheeks. Your boss, a conference with you? The vague way of his wording could have meant anything; A promotion, a simple chat, maybe even a date. You wouldn't know until later, way later. But you were willing to wait, you were willing to work the time away until you'd reach the deadline of yet another day.
Wesker could only watch through the cameras, your bright toothy grin, your dreamy eyes and the way you moved with excitement and anticipation in your seat. Even if you didn't work the same way you normally did, Wesker was still cought up in your little antics your attempts at staying focused on your piling tasks was a bizarre delight that he indulged shamelessly in, because to him you were his
Summary: You always were so curious if old guys actually do it better. Well, Leon's here to prove it to you.
Wc:2.3k
Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, p in v, fingering, implied age gap(not specified), a bit of mean Leon, creampie.
God forgive what he was doing, but it was a far cry from Leon's self-control, you managed to make this old man lose his temper so easily.
"Pretty little fucking thing, you're going to get what you need." Leon purred, his blue eyes penetrating yours, his thumb fondling your clit as you arched under him.
He'd already made you come twice, while he just massaged your clit, nothing more. He didn't finger you, he didn't fuck you, he managed to make you cum twice with minimal effort.
You had asked him if it was true that older guys were better at sex, that they had more experience. You were a bit incredulous in that respect, and he was determined to prove it to you. And he had the time and patience for it.
And if he still had a shred of honesty left, he was eager to get his hands on a girl as beautiful as you. He may be old, but he has everything it takes to drive you crazy with his advances.
"Uhm - can you, please..." You plead, trying to push your hips up to meet his thigh, where you had plans to hump him, just like a bitch in heat.
What a good man, you thought, as he began to rub your clit more fervently, one of his fingers sliding down your wet slit, opening the lips of your pussy. It looked like he was going to finger you, but then he stopped doing that, suddenly stopped.
He abruptly took his fingers away from you, giving you nothing more.
The sensation was enough to make you whimper, and you just looked at him with red cheeks and a pout on your lips. Only to see that he had that shit-eating grin on his face. Cocky son of a bitch.
"My pace, you should learn to respect your elders." He says in a mocking tone, this time he's mounted you, pinning your arms above your head, preventing any movement from you.
"Honestly-" Silly of you to think that he would allow you to say anything, he soon pressed his lips against yours.
His tongue emerged to meet yours, his lips moving in sync with yours, his fingers wickedly tugging at your clit, smiling against your mouth every time you squirmed beneath him.
Dripping wet, your pussy clenching against the wind every time, you could feel your head spinning every time he continued with these non-stop circular movements.
"Open up." He said in an authoritative whisper, biting your lower lip and giving it a gentle pull.
It wasn't long before you felt his hands leave your clit, finding their way to the back of your thighs, holding your legs wide open. You could say it was embarrassing, but you were already so overwhelmed by the sensations of the moment. By now you were holding your legs open the way he wanted.
"Dirty little thing, look at that." Leon purrs, sliding his fingers along the lips of your slit, getting his fingers wet in the process.
The sly whimper that came out of you was the perfect response for him. Without letting you think, he slid one of his fingers into you, sinking the thick digit into your wet pussy.
"I bet none of the boys your age have done that to you, mh?" he says in a naughty tone, curving his fingers around your g-spot and making you see little stars.
"Mhmhm." You nod in a moan mixed with an attempt at speech, so fixated on the way he put his fingers in you, in and out, as if he was so experienced at it.
And he was, for your fortune or misfortune.
You were almost going crazy with the way his lips were attached to your neck, licking and nibbling, his tongue making patterns that made you roll your eyes every time. It was so erotic and so delicious, you tightened around his fingers every time.
He smiled when he noticed you buck your hips against his fingers, pushing his digits faster against you, so fast and deep that all you could do was squirm and moan his name. It felt so good, your wet cunt wrapping around him, you were almost at the point of letting out all your sweet liquids.
"Are you going to cum again, sweetie?" Leon asked in mockery, giving your neck a firm suck, leaving a mark there.
It was all too much, you watching Leon humping the bed in a way to relieve the growing erection in his pants, or the way he fingered you so well while keeping an eye on your reactions. He was doing it like no one else, making you see the sky and the stars with just his hand.
"Oh- Shit-" You whimper, squirming and trying to hold on to his fists to make him stop.
This only added more gasoline to the fire, he began to shove his fingers deeper into you, reaching all your spongy spots, not even letting you breathe properly.
All you felt was your eyes rolling back in your head, all your fluids being expelled from your body as you collapsed under him, your body in a hot mixture of sweat and ecstasy.
You felt as if the world was spinning, your orgasm washing over you as you still tried to situate yourself. Only for you to open your eyes and see the image of Leon, smiling like the cocky bastard he was.
He knew very well that he had you wrapped around his finger at that moment.
"Did you feel good?" He asked in a purr, pressing his teeth against your jaw, then lifting his face and looking at you in a naughty way.
And damn, the look was enough to make you even wetter, if that was possible at all.
You just nodded dumbly, feeling your pussy clench around nothing.
You could have sworn to God that you'd never felt as excited as you did right now.
"Good, good." He hummed, slapping your clit twice.
For some reason, every time he made any movements with those muscular arms of his, you felt even more aroused. The veins in his arm all showing, the muscles jumping out with every movement he made. How could you not act like that?
"Keep them open." Leon says, his hands leaving you and heading for his belt.
If there was one thing he was, it was cunning, because it didn't take him more than a few seconds to undo his belt, his pants hanging open while you could already see his cock begging to come out of the confining fabric.
Soon you found yourself salivating, drooling at the wet spot that was forming in his pants. He might even have had all the control in the world, but he couldn't fool his body, surely he was as turned on as you were.
You then sat down on the bed, putting your hands on his muscular thighs and letting yourself run your lips along the underside of his stomach, dragging your tongue across his hard muscles, and he grunted and moaned in response.
The next thing you felt was his hand on the back of your head, urging you on. You quickly pulled down his pants, your eyes going wide when you saw his cock throbbing inside his underwear.
"Don't tell me your little eyes are shining like that because of me?" He says, pulling your hair to make you look up and see him smiling at you in a dirty way.
It was the final push for you to pull down his underpants, making his cock jump out, touching your cheek lightly. His pre-cum sticking to your skin, his tip dripping as his cock throbbed and ached, waiting for any touch from you.
When you took the tip and guided it into your mouth, he stopped you before you could do anything, your hand still wrapped around his member as he held your chin tightly.
"That's not why you called me here, is it?" he purred, pushing you back onto the bed, making you lie on your back.
You could feel the palpitation forming in your body, your sly eyes meeting his as he looked at you with a hungry gaze, his cock throbbing, leaking even more.
"I'll show you exactly what you want to know, sweetheart." Without warning he pushed his lips against yours, pulling you into a sloppy, hot kiss.
You soon felt him grasp the back of your thighs, putting you in a mating press, your legs so open that he could see whatever he wanted to.
His tip bumped against your clit, and he began to slowly grind against your twitching limb, which left you moaning into his mouth, moving your hips in sync with his.
His grunts mingled with your moans, his breathing mingled with yours, and you soon felt him humping you like a dog in heat.
"I'll show you why experience matters."
And he slid into you, his thick cock making you stretch in such a good way, your toes curling at the sensation. You were fucking wet, warm, jelly-like walls that accommodated him so well.
"Fucking tight. I can barely fit." Leon said as he thrust into you, deeper and deeper, to the point where you wondered if his cock had gone all the way in.
Seeing your sly expression, he smiled, moving his lips down to your neck, grabbing your sensitive skin and placing it between his teeth. Making you shiver with a certain discomfort, only for him to lick and soothe the area.
"Can't you loosen up, mh? So tight you can't stretch any further?" He purrs, thrusting slowly and methodically into you.
"That's it.... It's too much-" You whimper, putting your hands on his chest in an attempt to make him take the slightest pity on you.
All he did was sneer, giving you a very sharp smack of his hips, hitting your sweet spots in such a delicious way.
"Don't tell me you're trying to tap out? Mh, I'm sure you can handle it." He whispered to you, biting your earlobe as he fucked you quietly, sensually, rolling his hips to slide into you.
You felt your pussy stretching more and more to accommodate him, and yet you felt your walls clenching around him so hard. His tip was buried so deep in you that you didn't even know it was possible.
Your toes curling as he rammed into you, the wet noises along with the moans you both let out was the only thing that reached your ears now.
"I bet little boys your age can't do that, huh?" he says with a matching smile, pulling his cock out of you, only to shove it in all at once.
At that moment a strangled whimper came from your throat, as you closed your eyes tightly, finding the sensation too much for you to bear.
So close, you were so close to the edge that you couldn't hold on for long, all you did was stare at him with your sly little eyes, looking at his expression. His hair stuck to his forehead, his lips parted as he fucked you, his sweat dripping and mixing with yours, his muscles contracting with his every move.
When Leon became aware of the murmurs you were trying to say, the way you were drooling as he fucked you dumb, he controlled himself with everything he had not to cum here and now.
"Tight little pussy never been fucked like this, mh?" he taunts once more, pulling you into a languid, heated kiss, his hands squeezing the back of your thigh once more, but this time he pushes your legs against your chest, giving him the perfect intention to do what he was already doing.
His hips pounding brutally against you, his heavy balls slapping against you to the point of leaving a red mark on you, your fluids dripping down your body and onto the sheets.
His free hand went to your clit, massaging you slowly, adding even more to your pleasure.
When he detached his lips from yours, he even opened his lips to speak, but preferred to watch the erotic image in front of him. You with your lips parted, your eyes rolling back as you came, so drunk on his cock that you didn't even let him know you were close.
"That old cock still does the job, doesn't it?" Leon says with that damn smug grin, looking down to watch the scene.
White cream oozing out of you, your little hole still wrapped around him as he slowly grinded against you.
"Fucking good." You say under your breath, looking at him with glassy eyes.
For once you were recovering, but he jerked his hips forward, giving you another deep thrust, and then another and another. To the point where he was fucking you in a frenzied way, simply leaving you in a mess, a whimpering mess.
"I'll show you what's really good." He growls in your ear, biting your lobe as he plunges into you.
Even with your mind in shambles, you felt his hot spurt inside you, his cum flooding out of you. You'd never done it before, but it was so good, so raw. He finished while moaning some loud swear word, which you didn't understand because you were too focused on the moment.
You couldn't even think straight, and neither could he, so he just lay on top of you and waited for you both to come down from the heights. At this point, you could barely keep your eyes open, the sensation was too much for you.
Surely, this old man has made you feel like you're in paradise, and if you still don't believe him, he has all night to prove it to you.
Reminiscent Heart @nightmarexdove - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
