Jasmine

Writer | She/They | 19 | Gemini Requests are Open “Will we remain stuck, in the throat of Gods?”

[weathermetoashes]

: ̗̀➛ Directory 𖤐 ⋆｡˚

(Introduction to me)

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【☆】 Spotify 【★】

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Requests

Masterlist

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Writer

Gemini

06/01

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Working on: • Leon Kennedy Fic

• Simon Riley Drabble

• N/A

• N/A

Requests: OPEN

[weathermetoashes]

Nightcall

(Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader)

In which, Simon Riley drinks with you at a club. He doesn't waste his chance to bring you home. Full warning, I wrote this while extremely high and for some reason, tumblr isn't saving correctly either.

Disclaimer: Light Smut, Not Graphically Detailed, Not Proofread!!

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The warmth of the air combined with the throbbing base of the band in the background filled Simon's ears. His jaw hung slack, his eyes dropping, as he stared entranced at the lively spirit dancing in front of him.

Your bright smile had his pants tightening, and that cheeky giggle that passed your lips sent his stomach flipping. The room felt as if it was spinning. Everything around him was spinning, everything except for your shimmering body. Purple and blue made up your outline, shadows lining your face, contrasting the shimmer of your eyes.

Time seemed to stop when you moved closer, stepping down off your stage to speak with him. Simon had to swallow back a groan when your perfume hit his nose. It was a dizzying mix of vanilla and something more naturally you. The sweet notes made his mouth water, tongue flicking out to compensate for the dryness of his lips.

"What's your name, mister?" Your words tickled his ears. His fingers twitched lightly atop his thighs where they rested.

Simon cleared his throat before forcing out, "Ghost." It was quick, impersonal, a name for a dead guy. Usually, it gave him a sense of security, a certainty that no matter what, they would never know his real self.

Perhaps that's why by the end of the night, after a few rounds of drinks, he finds himself tucked away in a back room. You stood, waitingly, one hand rested on his upper chest but the strange pressure on his tongue caused him to hesitate. He hated how wrong it still felt for you to know him by Ghost, it has been bugging him all evening.

He especially hated it when you'd look up at him with that glimmer of need and trust in your eyes that made his gut coil tightly. Ghost didn't deserve that. Not one bit.

His hands reached out, one grabbing your waist, the other grabbing the side of your face. He pulled you closer, chapped lips pressing agaisnt yours with an incessantly growing want. The warmth of your arms snaring around his frame sent a light jolt down his spine. Rolling forward, his hips pressed against yours.

He groaned as you snaked a hand up his back, sliding past his neck, and into his hair. Your fingers tightened around the strands, grip firmly keeping him close. His lips felt like fire against your own, pulling a pleased moan from your throat. His tongue pressed into your mouth, parting your lips further.

That unwanted feeling of unease and discomfort surged forward once more. Simon broke the kiss, his forehead resting against yours as he caught his breath. "You..." He started but trailed off, his eyes averting. "I told you wrong earlier.”

"About what?" You quipped so curiously that it made his chest tighten nearly painfully. Ghost definitely didn't deserve such eagerness.

"My name. Simon, I want you to call me Simon." He admitted, his eyes not quite meeting your own now that the truth has been told. He felt exposed under your eye, the eye of a stranger. It felt equally as horrifying as it was thrilling. His gut coiled, simmering with a mounting heat.

The faint glow from the window casted shapes across the expanse of your cheek. For a moment it caught his attention.

Your hand moved to cup his face, pulling his focus back to your eyes. Leaning his face closer to your own, you whispered lightly against his lips, "Okay, Simon. Now, stop talking and fuck me." Your words held your impatience on the end, a whine tinging your tone.

That was all Simon needed to hear. He didn't need to be told twice. Simon planned on enjoying his meal and the feast he's spread out before him tonight had his mind reeling. Dizzying was the feeling of him dropping to his knees, hands tugging the scrap of lace off your hips before plunging in face first.

Your hand flew over your mouth just as a loud gasp escaped you. The cold air of the back room quickly turned stuffy as you whimpered under his tongue. Your hands held his hair, fingers tightly gripping the strands, tugging harshly when he'd pinch your thigh to keep you alert.

Simon just reveled in it. It's been far too long since he's had such a sweet little thing above him. His eyes gazed over the pudge of your stomach, looking up at your needy expression. Your head was rolled to the side, eyes fluttering closed just to open as another wave of pleasure swept over your trembling body.

He moved his mouth to your clit, lips suctioning around the nub, tongue circling round in teasing motions. Meanwhile, one hand firmly held you up by the hip, while the other snaked between your legs. It wasn't long before two fingers found themselves nestled inside you, curling up to press against that spongy inside you.

Your orgasm came shortly after. It was a hot, burning pleasure, a jolt that shot up your spine in waves, that caused your core to clench and spasm. Simon was relentless still, determined to ringle every drop of pleasure out of you. The intensity of your orgasm only seemed to grow as it went on. It was overwhelming, far more than you usually got to enjoy.

Your hips shook weakly in his grasp, a quiet protest. "Simon, it's too much." You whined, hands trying to tug his head away.

He didn't stop but he slowed his touch before eventually pulling his fingers out with a wet pop. The squelch sound made your stomach turn in an odd way. You couldn't entirely make out how to describe your feelings on it. Your mind was too fuzzy right now, your body too spent to care about figuring anything out right now.

Simon's hands slid up your body as he stood up, pulling you closer so he could hold your body against his own. The warmth of his skin against yours grounded you, pulling you back down to earth. Slowly, you calmed down, your breath slowing as you relaxed a bit in his hold.

He insisted on you coming home with him after that. You were a bit hesitant but far too tired to protest much. Especially, since he carried you out of that backroom to grab your stuff, and then to the car, where he laid you along the back seat. His jacket was neatly laid over you, the comforting scent and warmth lulling you further into sleep.

Before he closed the door, Simon made sure to strap a seat belt around your hips and waist. The careful attentiveness eased your nerves, just a small bit.

Little did you know, this would become a nightly ritual. Every evening when he was home on leave, he'd come and visit you. Every evening, he'd carry you out to his car, your head on his shoulder, eyes closed. Every night when he was home, he'd look down at your sleeping form and think how much Simon deserved this.

Every night, Simon watched as the moon glowed along your outline, drawing his eyes for hours nightly. It was exactly where he wanted to be, exactly how he wanted to spend his nights with you.

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[weathermetoashes]

Under His Watchful Eye

(Leon Kennedy x Reader)

TW: Mentions of Religious Trauma and Mild Smut. I kept it rather vague since I wanted to leave it a bit more flexible for people. This was partially inspired by my own issues with religion and anxiety, which I’ve personally been struggling with recently. Leon’s been eating my brain so I figured why not pair them.

Word Count: 1k

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“What does God see when he looks down upon me?” A question that often plagued your mind, a question that even now, in the midst of this current scene, your mind wanders back to him.

Perhaps it was the way your parents used God to fill your head with false fear? Perhaps it wasn’t? Either way, you can’t help but let your anxiety fester. Even during times where your mind was focused, you felt that anxiety, that twinge down your spine.

“He’s watching right now. What does he see?”

A calloused hand grabbed your cheek, forcing your face back to meet his. “Eyes on me, Dove.” He spoke, his voice a firm command, one you instinctively followed.

“Sorry.” You forced out, followed by a gasp as he curled his fingers inside of you. Your back tightened, arching slightly as your body struggled to comprehended the sudden change in his touch. He was redoubling, his movements faster, his mind more determined to get your attention.

It was working. For a split second, you enjoyed his touch, his devotion without the fear that your God may be watching you. Your hands curled into the fabric of the sheets as your moans finally broke past your lips, landing deliciously teasing on Leon’s ears.

He’s missed this.

You were both taken aback by how quickly he was able to work you up. Your walls were already fluttering around his digits, your moans breaking off into desperate cries. You stared at Leon with a slight tinge of fear at how quickly he’s managed to ruin you.

It’s both horrifying and exhilarating. This is what you loved though. This is what made you fall for him. He was focused and paid keen attention to detail. Every task he performed with the utmost patience and determination. It scared you.

That’s why you ran away. That’s why you left him. He was too stubborn, far too stubborn for a man so observant.

“He wouldn’t approve of this.” Leon whispered into your ear suddenly, halting your thoughts. The moment was quick to pass as he realized his mistake and moved to distract you.

His thumb came up to circle your clit in time with his thrusts. That’s all it took to have you crying out his name. He worked you through it, his fingers never stopping or slowing. Your thighs shook as his touch became too much. He didn’t stop though, not until you were pushing his hands away, tears falling down your cheeks.

He froze at the sight, his hands resting on your thighs as he stared at you. Those piercing eyes just watched you as your emotions overtook you. It was too much for you. You drew your hands up to cover your face but he was quick to stop you.

“Why are you crying?” He asked, his voice betraying nothing.

With a hiccup, you spoke, “Because you’re an asshole! He wouldn’t approve. I know he wouldn’t. This is wrong, so clearly wrong but you just had to remind me! This is why I broke up with you.” Your words were an onslaught of emotion.

The sheer sound of your voice was enough to form a crack in his stone facade. With his hands flexing on your thighs, he breathed in deeply. When he exhaled, it was enough to flutter the stray hairs around your face.

“Over a man that doesn’t exist.” He accused but it sounded more like a reminder, a correction in your flawed thinking.

“He does exist! He could be watching at any time and this is wrong. We’re not together anymore. What if he sees? Do you know what he could do to me?” Your voice grew more panicked the longer you spoke. Your eyes were wide now, nearly manic, pupils blown out.

He scoffed and shook his head. “Could do. Doesn’t mean he will. Baby, you’re just going to have to get comfortable with him watching. Sinners go to heaven too. You forget he’s merciful, just apologize and it’ll be fine.” Leon explained, his hand moving from your thigh to cup your face.

He’s familiar with your issues. You were always trying to be the perfect girl, the one who never did anything wrong. It was infuriating. Leon hated it. He couldn’t understand why a dame as smart as yourself would be delusional enough to even believe any God could sit there and watch everyone’s lives personally.

He’s tried correcting your thinking in the past, tried to break that illusion but that’s what drove you further away. He never thought you’d go so far to break up with him, but he knew he still had a chance to get you back. After all, you were laid underneath him now, naked and still flush from his touch.

You still wanted him and he was willing to work with you. That’s why he’s listened, taken notes, and kept track of every delusional sentence that escapes your mouth. He knows he can’t break it, he doesn’t have the skills too, not without risking hurting you. Instead, he’s taken his time apart from you to formulate a new plan. He’ll take your delusion as what it is and simply help redirect it when it begins to bother you.

“I’m sorry for bringing him up again I got a little caught up in the moment.” He apologized, his voice earnest and firm, like he meant it.

“Now, come on, we can pray together. I’ll help you clear this up.” Leon grabbed your hands, intertwining his fingers with yours. He leaned down and kissed your forehead before whispering one more, “Do you want me to lead?”

All you could do was nod. So he prayed. He prayed to a God he doesn’t even believe exists just so he could help ease your mind. As stupid as it sounds, he’d do it again and again if it meant having a second chance with you.

Nearly thirty minutes later, after y’all showered, you both laid back down. He held you close, his arms holding you close as you slept soundly against his chest. You had calmed down considerably after he prayed. That anxious feeling in the back of your mind was practically gone as you drifted off into sleep for the night.

“Sleep well, Dovey.”

[rawme-price]

A cat keeps showing up in ghosts apartment.

A ratty looking thing with beady eyes and scruffy fur. Ghost has no idea how it even gets into his apartment, given the locks on every entrance, but it doesn't seem to mind.

It likes to climb all over ghost, curling up on his stomach on the couch and purring loudly. He calls it Mr kitty, after his childhood plushie.

Ghost is absently reading about stray cat adoption when he gets a nock on his door and opens it to find you, his nice neighbor who once gave him cookies on new years.

"Hi, hello!" You greet, smiling a bit too wide for this to be a casual visit. You lean over like you're trying to peek around ghost, but he's 300 pounds of military weapon and there's no chance "have you seen a grey cat? Stripes, kinda old, with little white paws?"

"Mr kitty?" Ghost blunts before he can stop himself, the blushes at the look you give him.

On cue, Mr kitty meows loudly, and slithers between ghosts legs to rub a cheek against your shin.

You gasp, and scoop it up. Ghost has to stop himself from instinctively grabbing Mr kitty back "there you are, Aster!!" You coo, "I've been looking for you!"

"Aster...?" Ghost repeats quietly. Oh. Oh...the stray cat ghost has been growing fond of is actually your cat.

"Yeah, sorry about that," you smile, adjusting your hold on Mr kitty "i don't know how he keeps getting out, or getting his collar off! See, I tried–"

You keep going, but ghost doesn't listen. He's too busy thinking about the cans of tuna he started keeping in his sparse pantry, or the pile of his clothes Mr kitty likes to sleep on.

You must see...something, in Ghost's expression because you pause and furrow your brow at him. You look between ghost and the car in your arm, then smile "hey. Would you mind watching him while I'm at work? I don't want to leave him alone, and he seems to like you."

Then, remembering this is your weird neighbor who is gone half the year, you add "whenever you can, that is."

"Uh...yeah. yeah, I can do that." Ghost agrees, reaching a hand out for Mr Kitty to lick his fingers.

Maybe he won't be its owner, but ghost is glad Mr kitty has you.

[weathermetoashes]

A Christmas Story…pt. 2

(Simon Riley x F!Mother Reader)

In which, you take Daisy out to the mall for some Christmas fun the day before Christmas Eve. You invited Simon, who agreed. What could go wrong?

Decided to do a part two! If you haven’t read part one, find it here! (Apologies on the wait for this! I meant to get it out Sunday but I was far too tired.)

Word Count: 2.7k

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A week passed since he had given you his number. You haven’t texted him except to ask for his name. Simon Riley. The name itself was simple but you liked it. Oddly, it fit him, him and his stupid accent that wouldn’t leave your head with each passing day.

Simon Riley.

At night, you began to see signs of him in your dreams. At first, a simple name printed on a paper, then mentioned during a conversation, then you’re hearing his voice another time. Until, you finally wake up, a week into knowing the existence of this man, and you’ve just seen him in your dreams.

And he was hot!

Groaning as you stood up, you brushed a hand through your hair, trying your best to push past everything that’s been spiraling. You needed to text this man. You needed to see him, that much was clear. Evidently, your subconscious brain had already made its mind up about Simon. Now, you just had to be the awkward one to pull through with it.

“Oh god.” You whispered to yourself, now sat on the toilet. Your phone is in your hand, Simon’s messages pulled up! “What do I say?”

In truth, you didn’t know. You already had plans today, you were taking Daisy to the mall. You couldn’t just ask him to meet you there…or could you? Absolutely, you could. It was fairly logical. There were plenty of people there, safety in numbers. You knew the layout like the back of your hand. Plus, everyone met up there, surely, he’d have no issue.

“The mall?”

He was questioning it! You had asked him. You had typed out that message and sent it with all the fear and bravery you could muster up. And now he was questioning it. Your stomach was in knots as you waited for him to finish replying, the typing bubble still there. You had half the mind to take it back, to tell him you were wrong, but you couldn’t. Fear held you frozen in place.

After what felt like decades, “Sure. I’ll see you at 12.”

That was all you needed to hear. You replied quickly before setting your phone back down. Finally, with your anxiety now passed, you could now properly use the restroom.

Daisy was easy to convince about letting Simon join. In fact, she was ecstatic, throwing her arms up in the air and cheering as if she just won the highest honor. The sight was adorable and helped settle your nerves.

However, the pressure still loomed. You needed this to be right! You couldn’t just meet up with Simon without a plan. This could be a pivotal point in your life, in both of y’all’s lives together. It’s been so long since you’ve actually spoken and hung out with a man you’re genuinely interested in pursuing that you’ve nearly forgotten how to flirt. Worse, or even act!

He was hot. Incredibly hot from what you saw limitedly and what your brain had conjured up during your dreams last night. You could not let this opportunity slip, not for a moment!

In order to try and calm down before you left, you redirected your attention on some light cleaning. Dishes, a little bit of laundry, dusting, and some sweeping. You had gotten a little carried away but the anxiety had weaned off, a calm settling in your brain.

“Momma! Momma! Wear the elf!” Daisy yelled as she ran into the living room. Her eyes were bright, her grin wide as she stumbled over.

“I already said I would, sweetie. But, you have to wear yours too. It’s only fair.” You spoke in a calmer tone to try and bring her energy level down naturally.

It worked. She came to a stop at your leg, her arms held high for you to pick her up. Arms snaking around her waist and under her legs, you picked her up and walked her to her room.

“Where’s your costume?” You asked softly.

Daisy pointed to the closet, resting her head on your shoulder. Your heart melted at the feeling and you just held her for a second longer before finally settling her onto your hip with one arm. Your free hand was used to open the closet and grab her costume.

Daisy’s feet touched the bed first as you set her down. You helped her change and fixed her hair into twin braids. She looked adorable in the costume, you couldn’t deny that.

It wasn’t long after until you were dressed in your own elf costume and driving to the mall. The drive there felt short and not nearly long enough at the same time. Your gut just could not decide whether or not you were scared or not. You’ve never been this nervous and excited. It felt stupid but oddly refreshing.

“Hey, you walked right past me, elf?” Simon spoke as he walked up behind you, a hand on your shoulder. He was smug, smirking as if he hadn’t just startled the hell out of you.

Shaking off the scare, you offered a meager reply, “You scared me.” He had startled you enough that you were actively holding Daisy’s hand a little tighter to make sure she stayed behind you.

Simon gave an amused huff, shaking his head. “That scared you?” The mocking lilt in his voice was noticeable.

“Yes.” You forgot how intimidating his presence could be. It exhilarated you.

You felt Daisy walk in front of you, so she could greet Simon. She smiled up at him, waving and even saying hello. The smile on your lips could barely be suppressed at the sight.

“The food court is over there. Which one do you want to go to?” You asked him.

He glanced over to the food court, taking a quick glance at the different restaurants. Glancing down at Daisy, he spoke slyly, “Which one is your favorite?”

Daisy looked between a few, her mouth opening and closing a few times as she thought it over. When it struck her, she told Simon in gleeful words and Simon just couldn’t help but to pick the same one as a courtesy.

Cheeky.

You just nodded and let him lead the way. Daisy’s hand remained in yours as she walked between the two of you.

When you got there, the line didn’t take long, thankfully. Daisy was hungry and a little bit impatient by this point. She was so excited for her promised visit to the arcade that a small wait for food would definitely frustrate her. As you stepped to the side to wait for your food, you hooked your bags over your elbows. Then, you pulled Daisy up into your arms, settling her against you so she didn’t run off during the wait.

“You alright?” You asked, one of your hands settling on her head. Your fingers gently carded through her hair.

She hummed and giggled, her arms resting loosely beneath yours. “Hold me.”

“Yep.”

Simon watched the two of you from his spot beside you. His arms were crossed now, one knee slightly bent. His eyes watched the way you held Daisy, the way the girl in turn nuzzled into you. It was every bit a mother’s dream. His body tensed, noticeably so in the way his shoulders straightened and his fingers squeezed into the flesh of his biceps.

Luckily, the food came out quickly and they soon found a place to sit down and eat. It was just across from where the arcade was and Daisy was brimming with excitement. She was practically bouncing when you set her down in her chair, placing her food down in front of her after.

“Calm down before you eat, I don’t want you choking.” You warned, stepping behind her and gently pulling all her hair into one. “Back?”

She nodded and you tugged the hair tie off your wrist, wrapping it around the ponytail with a flick of your hand. “Done.” You whispered under your breath and leaned down, kissing her temple before taking your seat next to her.

The food was good. It wasn’t anything to write home about but it was pleasant. For a while, no one really talked, everyone was eating. There was an unspoken pressure to hurry, Daisy’s bouncing being the main trigger.

However, after a while, when you were wrapping up, Simon spoke up, “Shall we head over?”

You nodded and grabbed your trash. Daisy grabbed her own. You led her towards a nearby trash can before everyone crossed over to the arcade. It was evident immediately to you how stiff Simon seemed to become the second he entered the arcade behind you.

A nervous energy settled in your stomach. It grew, already festering. What if he was starting to regret coming and you just ruined his holiday? That would be horrible and you could ruin perhaps your only chance.

Daisy noticed the change in your attitude and looked around, spotting the ticket booth. She dragged you towards it, helping you input how many tickets you wanted before putting the card in. She paused on the pin before it struck her and she put it in, giggling giddily afterwards. The tickets were dispensed and you helped Daisy roll them all up neatly.

Simon offered to hold them for you. “Thank you.” You spoke with a smile as you placed it in his hands.

His grip on it was immediate and tight, the knuckles turning white. He moved his hand quickly, trying to prevent you from seeing it but you had already noticed. Was he already regretting this? Have you already messed this up?.

You turned away and took a deep breath. Your attention returned to Daisy and you let her lead the way.

She walked around, looking around at all of them. She was so excited that she’d focus on one game only to become distracted by another before she could start the first one. Simon and you just followed her around, keeping an eye on her.

“Indecisive kid.” Simon spoke to you, loud enough for you to hear but not loud enough to pop Daisy’s bubble.

You nodded and smiled. “Yes, she just gets so excited.” Your hands waved to gesture at her current behavior.

Simon let out a huff but didn’t say anything more.

“Momma!” Daisy called for your attention. When your eyes met hers, she grabbed your hands. “Can I play the claw machine?” She asked as she pointed at the different plushies to show you.

You didn’t have to even say anything, Simon was already holding out a few tickets for her. She took them eagerly and put them in while you just wordlessly watched, your eyes slowly trailing up to Simon who was already looking at you. A slow smile spread across your lips. In return, Simon nodded curtly.

A small part of you couldn’t help but wonder, was he always so closed off emotionally? Would he ever open up and communicate when he feels uncomfortable?

“No!” Daisy cried as the claw machine had missed for the second time. She started the third, gearing up and carefully adjusting the claw. You watched her, taking in the cute way her eyes squinted and her lips pushed together in a concentrated line.

The third claw and grabbed the plushie. Daisy’s breath hitched in her throat as she stood on her tip toes, watching with hopeful eyes. The plushie raised up but fell off at the last minute. She sighed in disappointment and looked up at you, a frown on her face.

Gently, you ruffled her hair. “Don’t be so down. You have more tickets, try again.” You tried to re-encourage her.

She shook her head. “I never win.” Her voice was full of defeat already.

You looked up as you noticed Simon had moved, stepping over to the claw machine and putting some tickets in. With a hand on her cheek, you turned Daisy until she saw him. Immediately, her eyes lit up as she rushed to his side, a hand resting on his shoulder as she watched from beside him.

He tensed at her touch but focused on the game. With a final nudge to the right, he hit the button and the claw descended. It snagged the plushie Daisy had been going for and dropped it in the slot. Simon took it out and handed it to her.

She smiled and thanked him, hugging the new plushie. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Simon spoke and turned back to the claw machine.

He still had two more attempts. So, you and Daisy stood there for another minute, watching in awe as he swiftly and easily won both attempts and got two more plushies. He pulled them out and held them out towards you. One was a dog, the other sheep. You grabbed the sheep.

“Keep the dog.”

This intrigued him. “How come?”

You scoffed at such a question, blown away by his absurdity. “Everyone gets one.”

Simon looked at the dog. “I’m not one to own a small dog.”

“Then imagine him big.” Daisy interjected, effectively making you laugh and causing Simon to stiffen as he contained his laughter into one exhale.

“Alright.” He grabbed the plushie from Daisy’s hands and started walking away.

“Hey!” Daisy gasped and chased after him.

You could only chuckle at the sudden chase, amused he would interact with her so teasingly playful. With your own plushie in hand, you followed them.

For the rest of y’alls time in the arcade, it was spent between Daisy playing games, Simon and you bantering, and Simon joking with Daisy. Although his humor was dry, it landed so flatly that Daisy found it funny.

She thought he was just weird.

A little while after three hit, you were all walking out of the store. Simon held all the prizes and plushies Daisy and him had won together. Meanwhile, you held Daisy in your arms. The poor girl exhausted herself but at least she had fun. You loved when she was like this, draped against your shoulder all drowsy.

“Kid’s knocked out?” Simon rumbled from beside you.

“Yeah, all that excitement got her sleepy.” You chuckled and gently patted her outer thigh where you held her.

Simon somehow managed to free up one of his hands enough to open the side door of your car for you. You thanked him and stepped forward, gently placing Daisy inside. You got her buckled in and kissed her head.

Stepping around, Simon swapped spots with you and placed all her prizes and plushies around her or on the other seat. She opened her eyes and mumbled a quiet goodbye. He nodded and stepped away, closing the door behind him.

“Cute kid.” There was a slight hint of admiration in his usual dry tone.

Your heart was melting. You didn’t know what it was but the sight of Daisy interacting so softly with Simon like that had your mind dizzy. You crossed your arms so you could pinch the underside of your arm, wanting to keep your thoughts from drifting.

“She is.”

He stepped forward slightly, causing you to stand a little straighter. “Can I see you again?”

Straight to the point. You could appreciate that at least.

A nod was your first instinct and action. Speaking was your second. “Yeah. Yeah, you can. Actually, if you’re free tomorrow, you should come by for Christmas Eve. We’re going to bake cookies.”

Simon hesitated, his shoulder growing rigid. Had you asked the wrong thing? He then forced out through a clenched jaw, “Sounds good.”

Awkwardly, you nodded, smiling intentionally to try and ease this sudden tense feeling.

He then took another step forward. One hand on your upper arm, he leaned forward to kiss your temple. “Tomorrow then?”

All you could do was nod, your heart fluttering high. “Yes. I’ll send you the address.” You were sure he could see how you were beaming over that kiss he had given you.

He must’ve because he leaned down against and pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead. This caused you to pause for a moment, your brain halting. When he pulled back, you looked up at him. “Goodbye, Simon.” A small, almost shy smile spread across your face.

He squeezed your arm and stepped back. “Bye.”

Until tomorrow.

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Part Three -> TBA

Tag List: @kirbyjuml @infinitehyperfixations @scaleniusrm

[weathermetoashes]

A Christmas Story…pt. 1

(Simon Riley x F!Mother Reader)

In which, your daughter Daisy is on a mission to get you a boyfriend and Simon just so happens to be the first person she spots. Or, in other words, your daughter runs around and try to stop her while Simon watches in amusement from behind.

This is my first time writing in a good long while. I’ve been experiencing some major, MAJOR, fatigue in everything. I’ve recently moved and I’m just now starting to feel like I’m truly settled in. So, as a late Christmas gift, a wholesome story of Simon finding a home with you!

Word Count: 1.9k

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Cookie dough- check!

Milk- check!

Hot chocolate- check!

Eggs-

“Crap, I forgot the eggs.” You grumbled to yourself, folding the list and handing it back to Daisy, your daughter.

She grabbed it, immediately unfolding it so she could also go through the list. “You didn’t write boyfriend on there.” She whined.

You sighed and shook your head, an exasperated chuckle escaping you. “Of course not, dearie. I have you. I don’t need no boyfriend to make me happy.”

Daisy pouted, jutting her bottom lip out like it could move a senate. It could and it did. “Please, Momma! It’s been four years.” She begged.

How could you deny such a cutie? With a huff, you replied, “Fine but it has to wait till after Christmas. Then, we can both write it on the list together. Sound good?”

Daisy squealed happily and nodded. “Mhmm!”

You smiled and pushed the cart over to the eggs, Daisy followed. Rummaging through a few cartons, you eventually find one where all the eggs look intact and healthy, a rarity nowadays. Setting the eggs in the cart, you called out for Daisy but she didn’t respond.

Looking around, your heart began to sink as you realized she had run off, again. She had a nasty habit of chasing after the first thing that caught her interests. Internally, you cursed yourself, fear clutching your heart as you called out again.

“Daisy!”

Meanwhile, the sneaky girl had wandered down a few aisles, list still in hand. She eventually spotted her target, a tall man clad in a black pants, a black shirt, and a black balaclava that had a fading skull painted on it.

Without any care in the world, she wandered right up to the man and grabbed the fabric of his pant’s leg. She smiled up at him when he looked down.

Before he could speak, she cut him off, “Can you be my momma’s boyfriend?”

His eyes widened in disbelief. What a strange thing to hear from a child he didn’t know. Simply, he spoke, “No.”

Daisy pouted but her pout wouldn’t work on him like it had worked on you. She knew that. So, instead, she argued it. “Why not? She’s really nice and pretty. She cooks well too!”

He debated whether or not he should just leave and abandon this random kid. However, he could only imagine the worry her mother was facing right now, looking for her. With a grunt, he held his hand out. “Come on, show me where your mother is.”

Daisy cheered and set off with a brisk pace. She was practically skipping alongside him, leading him through the aisles and over to the dairy section.

“Daisy! Baby, come here!” You spoke with a mixture of relief, anger, and worry.

Daisy skipped over like she just came back from a delightful stroll with a well known friend and not a stranger. You were quick to scoop her up in her arms, holding her against you tightly as you spoke into her shoulder. “Stop running off like that, you’re killing me, baby. Something could’ve happened to you.”

You pulled back slightly and gently brushed her bangs out of her face, kissing her forehead. “Come on, you’re in the basket for the rest of the day.” With one movement, you picked her up and plopped her down in the cart.

That’s when your brain suddenly remembered the black figure in the corner of your eyes still standing there, waiting. You turned to face him. A tall man, built like a tank. You’ve never seen such muscle like that. It was intimidating to say the least.

“He said he would be your new boyfriend, mommy!” Daisy cheered.

The man shook his head, crossing his arms. “The kid’s mixing things up. Didn’t agree to anything.”

You nodded, already understanding what happened. “Don’t worry, she’s a bit eager is all. Thank you for bringing her back. I hope she didn’t cause you too much trouble.”

The man uncrossed his arms, letting them hang at his sides. “S’fine.”

Awkwardly, you both departed from one another, going down opposite ends of the aisle. You had thought that would be the end of such awkward interactions but fate had no fortune for you today.

Soon enough, you found yourself standing in line for a cashier. Daisy was in the basket, waving behind you at the same man you had encountered earlier. In hopes of distracting her, you tried to hand her your wallet, something she always loved to play with. However, she dismissed it, her eyes wide with her gleeful energy as she stared straight behind you.

Internally, you groaned. You loved your daughter but god did she always put you in such random situations,

“Are you a superhero?” Daisy asked the man.

You froze, pulled out of your thoughts. Of course she spoke to him. When did she ever keep her mouth shut? She was a kid and this was your bed that you made seven years ago.

“Baby, I-…” You started but trailed off when you heard the man behind speak up.

“No hero.” His words were blunt, simple, not catered to a child. But Daisy sure did love the attention nonetheless and lit up like a damn Christmas tree.

“Then why wear a mask?” She asked, always persistent.

There was a pause before he answered, “Easier.”

“For you? Or for everyone else?”

You wanted to place your hand over her mouth and keep her quiet because who in their right mind would ask a stranger such a question. So, you gently grabbed her hand to get her attention. “Daisy, baby, why don’t you show your new friend how fast you’ve gotten at unloading the cart?”

Within a second, her attention had moved to the groceries and she had completely forgotten the conversation with the man behind you. You sighed, finally feeling a little bit of pressure removed from the situation.

“She does this often?” His words stabbed right through your brief moment of tranquility and dragged you right back into the forefront of reality.

Forcing yourself to speak, “Yes, she does. It’s been her life’s mission recently to find me a boyfriend.” You chuckled awkwardly, almost embarrassed to admit such a thing in front of such an imposing stranger. One touch and he could snap you like a twig, it was equal parts unsettling and intriguing, (but you never said that).

His voice came out a little bit rougher now, as if he had to cough soon. “Sounds like a real hassle.”

You nodded and patted her head as you watched her unload the groceries. You couldn’t bear to actually face this man, too scared to actually let this conversation be full. “She certainly is.”

After the cart was unloaded, the cashier finished with the person in front, before starting on your groceries. You picked Daisy up out of the cart and settled her on her hip. The bag boy at the end of the lane began to bag your groceries. It all felt normal except for the crazily built man standing a few feet behind you.

“$117.65, Ma’am.” The cashier gave your total, drawing your attention back to reality

Pulling out your wallet, you spoke to Daisy, “Do you want to pay this time, little star?”

She nodded eagerly and took the card you handed her. Fumbling a bit, she eventually gets the card in the reader. It asks for a pin and she freezes, her mind going blank.

You chuckle and type the pin in, whispering to her gently, “Our little secret.”

Daisy smiled and cheered happily when the reader read, “Approved.”

You put your wallet away, accepted the receipt, and placed Daisy back in the cart. As you pushed the cart out of the lane and towards the door, you noticed Daisy waving at the man again. A quick glance told you that he merely gave a curt nod back to her.

Once you were in the parking lot, relief washed over you. “Little star, you have got to stop getting me in such awkward spots. I’ll have grey hairs soon, thanks to you.”

Daisy laughed and patted your hands on the handle. “Grey!” She shrieked and giggled.

You could only shake your head, unable to stop the smile that spread across your lips. “Too cute. You are far too cute. Now, help momma load up the groceries. When we get home, you can have one of those yogurt pops you like.”

With the efficiency of a determined child, motivated by the delicious flavor of a strawberry yogurt pop, Daisy loaded groceries like her life depended on it. With her help, the groceries didn’t take long. Watching her load them up gave you an idea.

“Hey, little star, do you remember what Dad used to do? You want to become a comet?” You asked her.

Her eyes lit up and that’s all you needed to know. Within seconds, your care for whether or not you were in public faded completely as you took hold of the cart. Daisy hunkered down inside, holding onto the slats at the side to keep her steady, a bright grin already wide across her face.

“3..2..1..!”

“Blastoff!”

You started sprinting as fast as you could, pushing the cart towards the return with all your might. The sound of Daisy shrieks and laughter was all you needed to overcome your own anxiety. After all, it was her laughter and joy you treasured the most.

As you ran across the parking lot, no one else seemed to care about this casual display of familial fun. No one else seemed to pick up on the love that was just beaming out of your little girl like a beacon of warmth. No one but him.

He was just about to enter his car when he caught sight of you flying across the parking lot with Daisy in your cart. All he could was stop and stare as you eventually carefully slowed and parked the cart in the return, picking up a giggling Daisy, and throwing her over your shoulder.

A warmth penetrated his chest, rendering him nearly breathless as he watched the loving scene with a sense of longing of his own.

“Can you be my momma’s boyfriend?”

Those words echoed in his mind. His hands clenched where they laid at his sides. Doubt filled his mind as he debated whether or not he should follow through with this feeling. A sudden shriek of laughter before the doors closed made up his mind for him.

You walked around to the drivers side after putting Daisy up. That’s when you see him approaching. You call out to him, “May I help you something, sir?”

He just approached and held out a paper for you. “Wanted to check something.”

“Check what?” You asked as you took the paper, opening it up. You saw the number written hastily onto it. “Oh.” Was all you could say as you looked back up at him.

He was tense, his shoulders square as he spoke, “Kids determined. Might as well cut out the middleman.” He turned away and gave a small wave. “Your call.”

You could only watch as he left, your heart racing, and your fingers tingling where they made contact with the paper. Slipping it into your pocket, you got in your car and drove home, singing Christmas carols with Daisy the entire way.

Perhaps this could prove to be something worthwhile.

. ݁⋆ ᧔•᧓ ݁˖ . ݁

Should I do a part 2? Lemme know! ^-^

[kaychen666]

😮👉🍾

[daily-leon]

[weathermetoashes]

So i had an idea a slasher with an S/O who has PTSD from guns and they get mugged. So basically here is the plot. The slasher and the S/O go to a cafe! They have breakfast do some cutesy flirting and talk about their day than they leave. On their way home, The S/O finds an alley short cut home. They go in and than some men in their late to early thirties put a gun to the S/O's head. The men tell the slasher (who is in disguise as a normal person and the S/O knows) to hand them all the money they've got in them. And next is up to you!! Idm what slasher you put in but i at least want Bubba Sawyer, Jason Voorhees, Thomas Hewitt, Michael Myers, and Freddy Kruger. You don't have to add freddy if you don't want to, i don't like him but i do want to know how he would react in this situation!!! Bye!!!

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Slashers Reacting to a S/O

with PTSD

In which the slashers react to a s/o who has PTSD of guns. Slashers included are Bubba Sawyer, Jason Voorhees, Thomas Hewitt, and Michael Myers.

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Prologue

The first time you had ever seen a gun, it was when you had gone out to a local cafe with your partner that you encountered such a powerful weapon. The downside of ever seeing one is that you looked down the barrel of it, your body being held captive by fear and the threat of the gun firing while pointed at you, a tragedy within itself.

However, before you were forced under such horrific circumstances, you fancied a delicious breakfast, a perfect start to the morning.

“Good morning, take a seat wherever you like.” The waitress had greeted you, a warm smile on her face.

You smiled back and led the two of you over to a table. “This will do.” You said calmly, taking a seat at one end of the table while your partner took the other. You glanced up at them, flashing them a soft smile.

The waitress came back around and handed out menus before taking her leave again.

The two of you looked over the menu, you having to explain what some of the more intricate words were to your partner every now and then. Eventually, the waitress came back around and the two of you place your order. It isn’t long till the food came out, pipping hot and perfect for eating.

“Here you two are. Enjoy.” The waitress spoke.

The two of you were quick to dig in. “This is so good, almost as sweet as your kisses, love.” You teased, after taking a bite of your food.

Your partner nearly chocked on their food, not used to such compliments. You chuckled and continued eating, making small comments about your partner every now and then, enjoying the way they looked away in embarrassment.

You two quickly finished eating and you paid the bill. You soon found yourself walking home. It was starting to get dark overhead, rain settling in, so you decided to take a shortcut through an alleyway you frequented. However, this time, you were unoccupied

“Stop right there.” A man said, placing a gun against your head. “Give us all your money!” He yelled, his voice harsh, far worse than the thunder that stormed overhead.

You looked at the man before glancing over at your partner, noticing that they were about to attack. They met your eyes and you held up your hand, telling them to stop.

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Bubba Sawyer

Bubba listened to your word, staring holes in the men that held their gun at you. He watched as you handed over the money, slowly and cautiously. He remained still, following your orders, staying the good boy you had always deemed him to be.

“Is that all you got, bitch?” The man with the gun asked you, his voice cruel and full of malice.

You nodded and he gave a dismissive grunt. They left soon after, leaving you alone with Bubba, who was quick to walk up to you, looking over you with worry.

“I’m fine, dear. Let’s just get home.”

About a week later, you were met with a gun again, a victim having stolen a gun from the house, pointing it at you just before Bubba was about to attack. They held it against your head and you could feel your body start to panic, tears quickly entering your eyes.

Memories of the robbery came flooding back and you were stricken with fear, frozen in place. You don’t even know how Bubba took the person down, you just remember his arms wrapping around you, holding you close. You remember the way he held you so gently, as if you could break if he held you too tightly. You remember crying into his chest, shaking and trembling as you let the panic leave your system.

Bubba made sure to keep guns out of your sight after that, not wanting to see you in such a state ever again.

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Jason Voorhees

Jason listened to your words, not moving an inch. He quietly watched as you handed over the money, noticing the way your hands shake and tremble, fear evident in your every move. His hands clenched at his sides and he glared holes into the man’s head. He hated them, he hated this situation. He wanted nothing more than to punish the man for even looking in your general direction.

“Is that all you got, bitch?” The man said with a snarl.

You had went to say something but Jason had already moved, grabbing the man’s gun and throwing it aside, ripping it from the young man’s grip with ease. You watched with fear as Jason grabbed the man by his throat, a snarl practically ripping from his throat. The man strained and cursed, trying to escape Jason’s grasp but nothing was stopping him.

“Jason, stop!” You yelled, placing a hand on his shoulder.

He ignored you, blinded by rage. The man soon went limp, no oxygen left in his brain. Jason dropped him and looked at the other one. He went to lunge but you grabbed his hand, pulling as hard as you could. You nearly fell forward with how quick Jason had moved.

“Please, Jason, quit it out.” You begged, tears brimming in your eyes, you refused to let them fall.

Jason glared at the man. The man took this as his queue to leave, sprinting out of the alleyway. Jason didn’t turn to look at you until the man was out of sight.

“Sorry. He called you a mean word.” He signed, looking at you with regretful eyes.

“It’s alright, just help me clean this up.” You motioned to the body.

Jason nodded and got quick to work.

The second time you were faced with a gun was when one of the counselors at Camp Crystal Lake decided to fight back, holding you hostage to keep Jason from attacking them.

You were immediately sent into a panic, your mind running a million miles an hour. You were horrified, more horrified than you should have been in such a situation. You knew Jason would fix this but you couldn’t help but overthink, you couldn’t help but doubt his abilities, especially since you could feel the cool texture of the barrel.

Jason was quick to unarm the person, quickly getting to you. He scooped you into his arms and held you close, rubbing small circles into your back as the counselor laid dead at your feet.

Your breath quickened as you saw the dead counselor, you began hyperventilating. Jason held onto you tighter, forcing you to use him as a grounding tool.

You held onto him tightly as you tried to correct your breathing. It took you a bit but you soon calmed down, relaxing into his grip. He didn’t let you go for the rest of the night.

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Thomas Hewitt

Thomas was reluctant to listen but he did either way. He would listen to your every word, no matter what it was, even if he felt his opinion was the better option. He wanted the two men dead but you had said otherwise. This left Thomas in a state of near panic, he wanted to kill the two men but you had ordered him not too, he found it difficult to uphold your word.

“Is that all you got, bitch?” The man with the gun asked.

“That’s all I have.” You looked at the man momentarily before looking back over to Thomas, making sure he was following your words, you could tell he was having a difficult time listening.

“Tell anyone, you’re dead.” The man snarled, taking a step backward, his gun still pointed at you. He slowly walked away with the other man, their attention both still on you, the gun still aimed at your head.

They turned the corner and you let out a sigh. Turning to Thomas, you looked up at him with nervous eyes, afraid that he would criticize your weakness, your submissiveness to the attacks of others. However, it wasn’t a critique you were met with, it was a protective embrace.

Thomas was quick to wrap his arms around you, holding you close as if you would fall apart if he let you go. You could practically hear him growling, he was seething with anger. His grip around you tightened even more.

He didn’t let you out of his sight for the next week, constantly by your side, protective and possessive over your every move.

The next time you saw a gun was when Hoyt had pulled it out to deal with a victim. You didn’t technically see it but you heard it one evening while you were doing the dishes. You immediately dropped the plate you were drying, being sent into a state of panic as memories of the robbery came flooding back.

Thomas had witnessed this panic strike you and was by your side in seconds, pulling you close to him and holding you. You latched onto him, your eyes filling with tears, overflowing and soon falling to the ground.

Thomas hummed softly, a technique you had used to calm him at times. It was effective and you soon found yourself calming down. It wasn’t long until Thomas felt you relax against him.

His worry was replaced with anger, anger at the men, anger at Hoyt. He hated seeing you in such a state, he hated not seeing his sunshine happy. He vowed to limit the usage of guns around you as much as he could, not wanting to see you look at him with those panic stricken eyes again.

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Michael Myers

Does not listen at all, he immediately goes to move, attacking your attackers before they could even say their next word. He’s quick with killing them, not wasting time to watch them die, he wanted them dead quick and fast, wanting to immediately get the threat away from you.

The only person that could threaten your life was him.

“Michael, I said hold off.” You spoke, your voice still trembling with fear. The gun being pointed at you had gotten you quite worked up.

Michael shrugged his shoulders, looking at you with the same unbothered expression. He didn’t say nor did he sign anything. He simply watched you, awaiting his thanks.

You knew what he wanted but you refused to give it to him, mad that he disobeyed you. You didn’t want those men to die, even if they threatened your life, you just weren’t that type of person.

“Just…just clean up the mess.” You turned away, not wanting to look at the dead bodies.

Michael reluctantly got to work.

Later on, about a week later, you were faced with another gun, this time it was pointed at Michael. Your heart rate increased and your breath came out in shallow gasps. You were freaking out, you didn’t know what to do. You wanted to help but you were frozen, the memories of the robbery entering your head again.

Michael noticed this and he was thrown into a fit of rage. He ran at the person, who shot the gun, hitting Michael in the shoulder, but it didn’t stop him. Michael grabbed the person and threw them harshly against a wall, the gun sliding across the floor, stopping by your feet. Michael attacked the person, continuously hitting them until well after they were dead.

He then turned to you, noticing the gun by your feet and how your eyes were glued to it, tears falling harshly against the floor. He kicked the gun away and grabbed your hand.

He wasn’t an emotional guy, he wasn’t a touchy man either, but he was okay with hand holding, so he took your hand, squeezing it as you cried.

You moved and wrapped your arms around him, crying against his chest. He let you stay there until you calmed down, not pushing you away like he usually did.

He squeezed your hand once you calmed down, causing you to look up at him.

“Thank you.” You whispered, to which you received a small grunt. You gave a weak smile and hugged him one last time while he was still allowing you to be so close.

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Thank you for reading loves 🖤

[weathermetoashes]

Teaching Thomas Hewitt

how to Sign

(Thomas Hewitt x GN!Reader)

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In which you teach Tommy how to sign and speak his mind.

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You weren’t born deaf but you always had an interest in deaf culture and the way they went about life. In high school, you took classes centered around sign language and deaf culture. By the time you graduated and moved onto college, you already had a job as an interpreter. College just affirmed your credentials.

You moved to Texas a few years after you graduated college, that’s where you met Thomas.

You had gotten a job at a local gas station when the owner had brought her son in to help move some boxes that were too heavy for the two of y’all to move.

You had never seen a man that large in your entire life, it left you in a state of shock. For a while, you thought you had been imagining him, however, you hadn’t.

Being kind, you said hello to him, signing it as you spoke, a natural habit at this point. Thomas hadn’t answered, he just gave a grunt.

“Does he not speak?” You has asked your boss, Luda Mae.

She had shook her head no.

You vowed from that day on out that you would teach him how to speak in his own language, a language you could teach him.

Each time he would come into the store, you would teach him a new sign. He was against it at first, brushing it off but eventually he gave in and actually paid attention to what you were showing him.

You taught him everything you knew, from signing order, to facial expression, to signing locations, and even some deaf culture/history as well. He would sit there and listen the whole time.

Luda Mae had picked up on this connection between the two of you and brought the boy to the gas station often, so that he could see you.

You enjoyed teaching Thomas how to sign and enjoyed watching him express himself. He seemed to expressive with the way he signed, the urgency he had to speak his mind to you. You were glad you could bring this side of him out, it was a gratifying experience.

One day, when you had a particular bad run in with a customer, Thomas had stopped by and brought you a flower. He finger-spelled the entire word, not knowing the sign yet. For the rest of the day, you taught him different signs for plants and even animals.

His favorite sign was lizard because of how silly it felt to sign it. (It really is a silly sign.)

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Just a small idea that popped in mind 🖤

[weathermetoashes]

Angel

(Leon Kennedy x GN!Reader)

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In which Leon comes home from a tough day at work, wanting nothing more than to hear your voice.

Inspired by my angel, @illaxeem. Every time I come home from work, all I can think about is hearing her say my name and laugh with that sweet voice.

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Thunder struck outside as Leon continued the paperwork he was assigned. A fatigue passed over him, dragging his eyes to the ground and pressing down on his shoulders, forcing him to lay down. He fought hard against the fatigue, wanting to finish what he was assigned, so he could get back to you.

He’s been at work for over twelve hours now and he’s hated it, hated being away from you for so long. He couldn’t wait to get home and give you kiss, he couldn’t wait to pass out on the bed, his head laid against your chest, your arms securely wrapped around him, soft hands rubbing small circles into his skin.

He couldn’t wait to get home to hear your voice, to hear you say his name, to hear you laugh, and to hear you announce your day. He couldn’t wait to see the way your lips curled into a smile as you went over topics that excited you. He couldn’t wait to get home to hear that giggle in your voice when he teased you, or hear you whisper goodnight in his ear.

God, he could listen to you talk for hours, every second you spoke was nothing short of amazing. Your voice comforted him in a way he never could fully explain, words failing to describe the pure pleasure he felt from hearing a simple mutter. His heart would race every time your lips parted, every time you used that beautiful voice of yours.

He was on the edge of his seat, as he thought about getting home to you, being greeted by you in that lovely sing-song voice of yours. His heart swelled as he imagined you humming him a lullaby to bed. His breath faltered as he heard a phantom whisper, his mind yearning to hear your voice one more time.

So, when he finally got off work, he raced home, his mind more alive than it was moments before, excited with anticipation and eventual relaxation. His blood was pumping with a new purpose. His heart was pounding the second he stood in front of the door, his hand reaching out for the handle.

His eyes crinkled with a wide smile as he opened the door, his eyes meeting yours, a smile similar to his own laid peacefully along your face. He didn’t waste a second to wrap you in his arms, ignoring the fact that he was soaked from the rain. He pressed his head into the crook of your neck, breathing you in.

“Leon.” You whispered, running a hand through his hair. “Are you alright.”

The sound of your voice was angelic, a gift from the heavens themselves.

He nodded against your neck. “Just keep talking.”

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Bye bye 🖤

[weathermetoashes]

Brahms with a Petite S/O

(Brahms Heelshire x GN!Reader)

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A collection of headcannons/ imagines about Brahms being with a petite s/o who’s insecure about their height. This is basically a self-insert, not sorry.

P.S. you basically take Greta’s place.

Content Warning: Mentions of sex and praising.

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You’ve always been short your entire life and everyone, at some point or another, has pointed it. It’s been mentioned so much to the point that it grew to be a sensitive subject. You were self conscious about your height, how small you were compared to everyone else.

Despite how self conscious you were, men would jot on you left and right, flirting and making moves you didn’t want them to make. You denied each one of them, despising them for only liking you because of how small you were compared to them, as if you were nothing more than sex doll.

When you got the job as a babysitter for the Heelshire’s, you were beyond ecstatic when you can to the realization you were babysitting a doll. Children would often tease and pick fun of you for your height, so you were glad this one couldn’t talk.

Of course, you attended your duties, following the routine, glad to be out of the sight of everyday people. You even had a grocery boy so you didn’t have to leave the house, only downside was that he seemed to be like every other man you encountered, seemingly stricken with you at first sight because of your height.

You had a suspicion that someone else lived in the house when things turned up missing, when food seemed to disappear from the fridge, and when objects seemed to clatter about in the night.

This was confirmed when you and said grocery boy had gotten into a fight, you growing tired of his advances. He had backed you against the dining table, the force of you falling practically falling against enough to knock the doll off the table.

It shattered and your heart dropped.

That was when Brahms came out of the walls, showing himself to you. He practically looked over you, even though he was across the room.

He immediately went after the grocery boy, you don’t like to remember what happened next.

When had finished his business with the grocery boy, he turned to you. You heart had dropped, you stomach churning, and your palms sweating.

“I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to break it. We can… we can glue it back together.” Your words came out in pieces, dear gripping you tight. You were almost sure you were going to die.

He didn’t kill you, in fact, he ignored the doll and walked over to you, now towering over you. You were scared to meet his eyes. He placed a hand on your shoulder, it wasn’t aggressive but it wasn’t quite gentle.

You looked up, your eyes connecting with his, his eyes staring back into yours. You felt even smaller in this moment, tinier than you already were.

You didn’t know what to do so you just continued to follow the schedule, grabbing at strings.

“It’s bedtime, Brahms.” You whispered.

He allowed you to lead him to bed, his hand slipping into yours as you led him up the stairs. Your heart had skipped a beat at how massive his hand was compared to you, your hand was completely engulfed by his. It only reminded you of how pathetic your body was.

You tucked him in and went to leave when he asked for a goodnight kiss. You reluctantly kissed him and he met you tenfold, grabbing you and pulling your close. You felt small in his grasp, smaller than you’ve ever felt.

When he had released you from the kiss, you said goodnight and left, closing the door behind you and falling to the floor.

What the hell was that?

The next day, you had resumed the schedule, but with the actual Brahms instead of a doll. It was odd and it would take some getting used to, but a part of you didn’t mind, you were quickly growing used to his presence.

Besides the kiss from the night before, he hasn’t made any advances and he doesn’t comment about your height.

Whenever he sees you struggling to grab something, he’ll grab it for you, not saying anything rude or criticizing you.

As months passed, you two grew closed to the point you were basically dating, you both slept in the same bed now.

When it was bedtime, he would lay down next to you and pull you close against him, wrapping his body around you. It comforted you, giving you a sense of safety despite the brutality you had seen him perform once before.

For once in your life, you didn’t hate your height. However, sometimes, you couldn’t help but retreat back to those insecurities. Whenever this happened, Brahms would come up behind you and wrap you in his arms, peppering the top of your head in kisses. Sometimes he would tickle you, wanting you to smile instead of frown.

Sometimes, kisses and tickles weren’t enough, your mind far too clouded by insecurity to even recognize his touch. That was when Brahms would use his words.

“Perfect for holding.” He would say, picking you up with ease. A part of you hated how easily he could pick you up but another part of you loved it, finding it fun to be picked up and held close to the person you loved

When that didn’t work, he would bring you over to a tall surface and stand you up on top of it. He would look up at you, his blood shot eyes creasing as he smiled.

“Your tall now.” He would amaze.

You would be forced to stand up there until you had enough of being tall, missing your regular height.

Sometimes these insecurities of yours will come out in bed, when the two of you are in the heat of the moment. His hands would rest upon your body and you couldn’t help but think about how much bigger he was than you, how small and insignificantly pathetic you were next to him.

He would praise you for the rest of the night, listing off different reasons why he liked your height, why he thought you were cute, the perfect size.

Usually he liked to be praised but he would make an exception for you.

Sometimes, as a mean tease, when you wanted to kiss him, he would refuse to bend down, forcing you to try and desperately reach his lips on your owns. This usually resulted with him being slapped on the arm. He would eventually give you the kiss, always whispering something about how cute you were when you were made.

In his eyes you were perfect, no matter how short you were.

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Thank you for reading and I’ll see you next time 🖤

Also, send me Brahms requests, please. I love my silly wall man but sometimes I find it hard to make stories about him. Help a person out :)

[fabled-fiction]

Hiiii!! Can I request a hobie brown x fem reader where the hobie swings by the readers room and just cuddles with her because he’s tired from patrol and the reader loves it because he only has a soft spot for her! And it’s just very fluffy!

Open Window (Hobie Brown x Reader)

Summary: Hobie didn't realize how strung out he was until a certain someone crosses his mind.

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: MINOR SPIDERMAN ACROSS THE SPIDERVERSE SPOILERS

A/N: I tried writing in a fem reader and then realized as I was writing I neglected that. I tried going back it but it felt forced, I hope this still suffices!

It felt like he never slept.

When could he afford too? It seemed like every step forward he took in taking down Osborn and his regime, they took three. Every running start he had they moved the finish line.

It was exhausting to be honest.

And now on top of his own problems on his earth, this stupid watch wouldn’t stop beeping with anomalies that needed taking down and tethering back to their Earths.

Hobie could feel the bags forming under his already painted ones.

His head had been reeling recently. Jumping back to his Earth after coming from the Spider Society was never easy no matter how much radioactivity was coursing through his hardened veins. He had a theory that despite having the wristband that helped him jump back and forth, he needed one for his head. The shift in perspective, and what could be perceived as art styles of the different Earths were making his vision hazy. 

Perching himself onto the top of a billboard, Hobie hit the side of his head with the edge of palm. Maybe if he hit his head hard enough or in the right spot he could knock the buzzing in his brain out long enough for him to make sense of where he was. 

On occasion it almost felt like he was back in that stupid spider tower, or another unfamiliar Earth.

Shaking his head, he took a glance about the neon lit streets of his Earth.

Wait, he recognized this street…no wait. No yea he recognized where this street lead to. 

Pulling the edge of his suit wristband back, he pulled up the time on his watch.

4:32:02am

Hobie knew exactly what he needed to rejuvenate, to put the rock back in his roll. 

Standing from his perch, he felt his bones begin to ache as they realized where they were about to be. Pulling his mask back over his head, he was about to flip when his watch started to buzz.

The holographic face of Gwen popped up.

“Hey! Hobie, Im glad I caught you. You got a seco-”

“Sorry Gwendy, can’t talk right now.”

“Wait! I n-”

He couldn't swing fast enough.

There was a warm purple light coming from your window, leaking through your curtains like a holy light.

He’d have to lecture you about leaving your window unlocked for anyone to crawl into later, it didn't matter that you were on the 14th story of your building. But as of right now, as he peeled your window open he saw it as a blessing as he tumbled head first into your room.

Hobie hadn’t realized how long it had been since he had seen you.His spider work had always been number one, taking down the rising regime of fascism in his city. Even the Spider society jobs have seen more of him than his own bed. It almost felt like he was more Spiderman than Hobie Brown, his heroism taking priority over everything else.

Well, almost everything else.

But now as he stumbled about, throwing his sneakers and guitar in the corner of your room the only thing on his mind was you. More specifically crawling into your bed that seemed to always be WAY more comfortable than his.

He hadn’t realized how much he missed you.

Hobie was so preoccupied with getting out of his Spidersuit that was growing increasingly more annoying by the second, he hadn’t even realized you were now leaning against your doorframe.

Sometimes you thought he played up these so called spider senses. There was no way he let you sneak up on him as many times as you have.

“Where..I know you ‘ave it somewhere in ‘ere.” He mumbled to himself, digging through your drawers with little regard to your neatly folded clothes there were already in there. 

Placing your cup of water on your nightstand, you perched on the edge of your bed and watched as your once clean-ish room transformed to match the thought process of the sleep deprived Spider in front of you.

You knew what he was looking for, Hobie had a tendency to leave shirts in your room whenever he stayed over. He said it was for convenience, it made it easier to switch from Spiderman to Hobie Brown. You couldn’t count the amount of times on your fingers when you had done laundry and realized nothing in the basket was yours. He almost had a full drawer in your dresser.

“Try the very bottom drawer.” You yawn, a few joints popping as you stretched out whatever you could stretch out.

Hobie turned his head to look at you for only a moment, and you hadnt even realized that he had discarded his mask somewhere into the clothed chaos that was hurricane Hobie.

Falling back onto your bed, you let out another big yawn as you made yourself situated. You could hear Hobie shuffling about your room, making himself more than at home as he slammed the window shut. A very loud click of your window lock followed by a thunk of a thwip made you chuckle.

“You seriously need to considah lockin’ your window. Could’a been an unsightly fella.” He muttered as he reached to fully close your curtains.

“Well I know who to call if I see one of these so called unsightly fellas.”

There was a grumble that came closer to your bed, and what you swore you was the gulping down of YOUR glass of water followed by the creak of your mattress.

It was like a second nature to the both of you even though you hadn’t physically seen eachother in what felt like months (in reality it was only a week but you too were too clingy to admit to each other it had felt longer). Molding into one another was easy for you too.

Hobie’s arm easily found its way over your waist, pulling you as close to him as he physically could. The minute he had his head resting on your chest he swore he could feel the color coming back to him. Feeling your hand run over his wicks, and eventually come to rest on the nape of his neck made him break into a hazy smile.

But then his stupid watch started buzzing. Didn’t he take it off?

He tried ignoring it for a moment, hoping whoever was calling him would get the message.

When you had started to pull away was when he had enough. 

Ripping the watch off his wrist, he threw it across the room and webbed it to a random wall. Before you could even protest that he had yet again left webbing that would take months to come off, he wrapped his arms around you and flipped around so that you were laying ontop of him. His arms basically locked around you, and solidified that you two would not be moving for the rest of the night.

He needed this, and he could tell based off the way that you melted into him that you needed this as well.

“Hobie shouldn’t you have answered that?”

He could deal with the consequences later, right now he was exactly where he needed to be.

“Nah.”

[sweeetestcurse]

James Russell as Brahms Heelshire in The Boy (2016) 05/??

[weathermetoashes]

He looks like a kicked puppy in the last one his eyes are so cute. :)

[konigbabe]

keep it quiet

Pairing: ID!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader | single dad AU

Word count: 2.2k

Tags/warnings: no y/n; smut; single dad Leon; breath play; p-in-v sex; praise kink; top!leon; blowjobs; slight face-fucking; female gendered anatomy

Summary: Just single dad Leon fucking you in the janitor's closet during class.

a/n: Canon ID!Leon is around 29 but Leon in this '"universe" is aged up to be in his 30s (age won't be specified but I imagine him to be in his mid-to-late 30s).

Written as part of my A to Z kinks game. Q is for a quickie.

masterlist • navigation • faq • AO3

The pungent smell of bleach hangs heavy in the air, biting your nose with every breath you take; tangling with the bright citrus notes of Leon's cologne, a potent blend of bergamot and lemon. The two scents mingle and dance, a waltz of sharp and sweet.

It’s an unexpected combination. One that should’ve clashed, yet somehow they complement each other.

Your mind tries to process the conflicting sensations, but it’s a futile effort when every sense is consumed by the man behind you and the way his hips keep pistoning into you.

Sharp, short thrusts.

Each one driving his cock deeper into your body.

Angled so that the head of his cock kisses your cervix every time. With a fervor that steals your breath. Baths you in liquid fire.

Each thrust like a battering ram, slamming into you with a force that threatens to tear you apart.

Somehow, you find yourself holding on, clinging to the nearby shelf, like it’s the only thing keeping you anchored to this world. Knuckles straining, fingers curling over the smooth surface, a rush of heat courses through your veins as Leon's grip tightens ever so slightly.

"Fuck, Leon–"

Your whine tapers off, replaced by a deep, purring hum of satisfaction as Leon’s hand encircles your throat; exerting a gentle but firm grip that pulls you closer to him. Chin nestled on the base of your shoulder, his teeth glide across the tender underside of your ear.

A tingle starts at the nape of your neck and courses through your body, like a sparkling river of sensation.

The fluorescent light above flickers intermittently, casting a ghostly and eerie glow over the confined space. The hum of the light like a faint melody.

The grip on your hips dissipates; Leon’s other arm moves upwards. His palm hovers before your lips, the tip of his middle finger tracing the underside of your lip; heartbeat picking up.

"Open up fo’ me."

And you oblige. Without a second wasted, two of his fingers find their way into your mouth. Pressing against the wet muscle, teasing your tongue and coaxing it into action; hooking behind your teeth, you manage to swirl your tongue around the fingertips.

"That’s it–jus’ like that," his words come in a low, gravelly murmur. Dripping in satisfaction. Followed by a brush of his lips against the delicate shell of your ear. "Good girl."

His words flood your body with heat; every nerve alights. His voice a velvet caress. A balm to your soul. A sweet validation.

Nudging your legs further apart with his boot, you suck at his fingers one by one; giving each a secluded attention. Leon’s breath hitches when your tongue laps at the tip of his index finger; the weight of his forehead rests on the crown of your shoulder, lips parting in a gasp of pleasure.

It makes you moan, makes you quiver around him, akin to the flutter of a butterfly's wings.

Pushing your hips backwards, you meet the sharp plane of his pelvis as his fingers withdraw; a wet string smudged over your lower lip. Slickness coats your tongue, leaving a tangy taste in your mouth.

Leon's fingers sneak under the hunched material of your skirt, tracing a wet path over the exposed flesh of your thighs. His thumb lingers at the apex, applying just enough pressure to make you shiver, attempting to bite back a moan.

Lost in the sea of sensations that threaten to consume you.

The rough pads of his fingers find your clit; the pulsating nub throbs beneath his touch. It's as if a live wire is coursing through your body, electrifying every nerve ending. Leon’s fingers move in rhythm with his thrusts–

"Leon–fuck, don’t stop–Leon–"

Words mingle together. Mind too foggy. Too fucked up to comprehend a single sentence.

-the pressure enough to send you spiralling; making your breath come in ragged gasps, quiet mewls as his fingers dance over your sensitive flesh, drawing out every last drop of pleasure.

A sweet ache coils in your belly, radiating outwards.

Both hands gripping a shelf on each side of the narrow closet, you feel like a marionette. Completely at his mercy. The wood creaks under your grasp, protesting the force of your grip. But you can't help it; the pleasure’s too intense, too all-consuming.

Leon's fingers work their magic; teasing and coaxing your body to the brink of orgasm. Each stroke and brush causing your walls to flutter, squeeze him delightfully; making his hips quake with every movement.

The heat between your legs intensifies, the wetness pooling and spilling over onto his cock. His thumb circles your clit, drawing it out and flicking it back in a rhythmic motion that has you on the edge.

Body like a coiled spring, wound tight and ready to snap, your hips push back.

Until the squeeze of his fingers on the side of your throat fades while leaving behind a warmth that lingers on your skin–

Every touch, every stroke, every kiss a building block, adding to the fire that’s burning inside you.

–and is replaced by a hand covering your mouth, stifling a sound that begins to surge from the depths of your being.

In a natural reaction, one of your hands shoots towards the intrusion, fingers wrapping around Leon’s wrist, feeling the cool material of his watch.

You moan when Leon’s hips still. Pelvis flush against the curve of your ass, buried to the brim, as if he's trying to meld his body with yours. His breath ghosts over your nape.

Footsteps echo through the door. Two sets of heels clicking against the polished concrete floor. You both freeze, bodies still tangled together in the cramped space.

You should be panicking, being seen like that. But the fire in your belly refuses to be quenched; your body a bundle of nerves, the thrill of excitement at the thought of being caught mingling with the heady rush of pleasure that Leon is coaxing from you. It's a dangerous game, one that sets your heart racing and your skin ablaze with need.

You’re sure they’ll hear the frantic thumping of your heart, the ragged gasps of breath that escape your lips.

Leon's grip on your jaw tightens, grounding you in the moment, urging you to focus only on the pleasure that he's giving you.

Instead, a whimper slips from your mouth, muffled by Leon’s hand when you feel the slow, deliberate slide of his cock out of your dripping wetness. Moving in slow motion as he withdraws, teasing you with just the tip of his throbbing cock still nestled inside you.

Every nerve in your body alive with anticipation, yearning for the moment when he will plunge back inside you, filling you up completely. You can feel the wetness coating his cock, and the slickness of your own desire as it clings to him, urging him to come back to you.

Your body’s a symphony of sensations, each note building on the last until it crescendos into a symphony of pleasure.

"Shhh," the short stubble grazes your cheek as he murmurs, leisurely drawing his cock back inside your slick heat; the footsteps grow louder, "wouldn’t want your fellow teachers seein’ you gettin’ stuffed by my cock in the janitor’s closet, would you?"

As Leon's hand exerts a gentle force on your parted lips, your head falls back, coming to rest on the sharp, angular edge of his clavicle. Capable of feeling every inch of him as he moves languidly within you, each thrust slow and deliberate, savoring the squeeze of your cunt on him.

Leon’s words, accompanied by a steady slide of his cock, capable of feeling every inch of him; it makes your core throb; your walls to tighten, emitting a gentle moan from the man behind you.

"You’re making noises too," you mumble, the words barely coherent in the midst of your ecstasy. Consumed by the heat of his body against yours, the scent of his mixed with the musky aroma of sex. The sound of his ragged breaths, guttural grunts and gentle moans of your name.

The rhythmic motion of his thrusts lulling you into a state of pure bliss.

"Can’t help it," his teeth graze your shoulder blade, "you just feel too good.." Emphasizing his words; Leon’s fingers pull from your aching nub before giving it a gentle slap. With a sudden shift, his hips deliver a sharp, forceful thrust, shattering the lazy rhythm he’d established earlier.

You inhale sharply at the unexpected sensation, but the burn of desire only intensifies.

Senses on overdrive, the footsteps pass. Leaving you and Leon alone again. It seems to drive him back deeper into you, his thrusts becoming more frenzied and urgent.

Leon’s fingers curl and stroke your clit, slow and steady, then faster, rougher, until—

Heat; A tidal wave of pleasure crashes over you, consuming every inch of your being. Your mind dissolves into a haze of pleasure, every nerve ending alight with ecstasy.

–a cry rips from your throat, echoing through the room. The tension snaps, leaving you panting, trembling, and utterly spent.

Cunt fluttering around Leon’s cock, his hands snap to grip your waist. His breathing’s heavy and ragged, matching the pace of his thrusts. He holds you close, his body flush against yours, as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm.

"Fuck–’m gonna cum," his lips latch onto your pulsating jugular, feeling your violent heartbeat, "be good to me, get on your knees," he rasps, having a hard time formulating full sentences as the coil in his body tightens, threatening to unravel at any moment.

Hips snapping forward one last time, burying himself deep inside your leaking cunt, his breath hot against your skin before you obey.

A pathetic whine leaves your lips at the sudden emptiness when he pulls away, hands guiding you to turn around, putting pressure on your shoulders to make you sink down to your knees in front of him.

Jeans pushed down just enough to free himself, heat flushes your face at the sight of his cock, glistening with your cum. Not wasting time, your lips wrap around the spongy tip, tasting the salty tang of your own release mixed with the slightly sweet taste of his skin. Swirling around the sensitive head.

The taste floods your mouth. A heady mixture of musk and lust.

And you savor it. Like a rare delicacy.

"Fuck–look at you," Leon growls.

His eyes smolder with desire as he looks down at you, watching the way your lips stretch to accommodate him. A low, throaty moan of appreciation slips past his lips, his hand tightening in your hair as he urges you to take him deeper.

Eyes moving upwards, his chin is all you can see as he throws his head back, hand gripping the same shelf you were moments ago, knuckles white. The leather of his jacket creaks with the movement.

Coaxing out every drop of pleasure from his throbbing cock. The taste of him lingers in your mouth, a potent reminder of the pleasure you're bringing him.

Breathing becoming ragged, his body tenses under your hands.

Suddenly, his hips thrust forward with a sudden urgency that takes you by surprise. The head of his cock kisses the back of your throat for a second, causing you to lose your breath and withdraw as your gag reflex kicks in, eyes watering.

You can feel the wetness of your own saliva and his precum dribbling down your chin.

"Shit, sorry," he rumbles, eyes back on your kneeling form.

His gaze is glazed over with desire, and his hand moves from your hair to cup your cheek. He brushes his thumb over your bottom lip, smearing the slickness across your skin.

"S’okay," you reassure him with a soft smile, "you can do that; just tell me next time."

He nods as your fingers wrap around his base, taking him back in eagerly, taking him as deep as you can, feeling his thick length stretching your mouth to its limits.

This time, you’re ready; relaxing your throat, you let him set the pace. Feeling the pressure at the back of your head as he guides your face towards his cock.

With each drive, he plunges deeper into your mouth. His body taut like a bowstring, every muscle coiled tight. You can feel the tension emanating from him in waves, his arousal thick in the air between you.

His cock swells inside of your mouth, pulsing with each beat of his heart. You can taste his desire, a heady mix of salt and musk that fills your senses.

Tapping his thigh, he stops his movements as you glide your lips along his cock, hand moving in the same rhythm.

You pick up the pace, tongue and lips working in perfect unison to coax out every last drop of his pleasure.

With a deep grunt of your name, he convulses, his body wracked with spasms of ecstasy. Fingernails scratch your scalp as he spills into your mouth, and you savor the taste of him, swallowing each salty, hot drop eagerly.

As he comes down from his high, he looks down at you with a mixture of awe and gratitude in his eyes.

"That’s A plus, miss teacher," he whispers, voice husky, pulling you up to stand in front of him.

[weathermetoashes]

: ̗̀➛ Requests 𖤐 ⋆｡˚

(Rules and More)

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Requests: Open

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Understand what you want before you ask me.

List the characters you want, don’t just give me a game, movie, etc and have me pick the characters.

Be as specific as possible.

Provide a plot not just a genre.

If you want headcannons give me an amount.

Please be understanding that I have a lot going on at the moment and won’t be writing 24/7. I will get your requests done asap.

Please, if you can, leave me a review after of what I can do to improve or what you liked. It really helps me grow in my writing.

If you request Freddy Krueger, I will let you know that I am uncomfortable writing anything for him. I will send you message if you do request explaining that I cannot fulfill anything with him, but I will do about anyone else you want.

If I don’t know a slasher, I will watch the movie their from to understand them, just try your best to give me the title of the film and the slasher you want, in case I’m unaware of them. It helps me out, plus it introduces me to new slashers.

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[weathermetoashes]

Perfectection

(Leon Kennedy x Chubby F!Reader)

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In which Leon Kennedy shows you everything he loves about you. <3

Inspired by my pookie bear, I love you and thank you for feeding into my obsession. Love you @illaxeem

CW: NSFW ,, Voyeurism ,, Cunnilingus ,, Mirror Sex ,, Hair Pulling ,, Praise Kink (briefly mentioned) ,, Light Mention of Body Dysmorphia ,, Body Praise

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It was later on in the night when you finally got the chance to sit down, your day spent cleaning and rearranging things to your liking. You had been unhappy with the state of the house for a while so you decided to change it up. Now, after twelve hours of moving things around, you were finally done. You were beyond sure that you pulled a few muscles in the process.

For a while, you sat on the couch and rested your eyes, that was until you heard a key in the door. Immediately you jumped up, excited to show your boyfriend what you had done while he was at work. When he left earlier that morning, he had noticed you cleaning, he hadn’t noticed your plans of moving everything this way and that.

“Welcome home, dear.” You greeted as Leon walked through the entryway, the door closing behind him.

He gave a sluggish smile, he was also in the same state as you, exhausted. You gave him a soft smile and helped him slip his jacket off, hanging it on the coat rack. He was quick to wrap his arms around your waist and pull you close, nestling his head in the crook of your neck. You chuckled and ran a hand through his hair.

“You alright?” You asked quietly, a slight hum to your voice.

Leon nodded against you. “Yeah. How was your day without me?” He asked in return, a slight tease to his voice. He knew that you didn’t like to be separated from him.

“Actually, it was rather pleasant, I got so much done. Do you want to see?” You replied to Leon’s surprise. You were always quick to complain about him working too much and not spending enough time with you during the day, yet now you aren’t complaining, in fact you almost seem thankful.

“Sure, show me what you did.” He let go of you, standing up straight. He wore a soft smile, his eyes warm and sleepy.

You grabbed his hand and led him to the living room. “Look.” You said, motioning to a completely rearranged living room, nothing was left untouched, even the small plants that were arranged on the coffee table.

“Oh.”

“Do you not like it?” Your face fell a bit.

“No, no. I like it, I just wasn’t expecting that. How’d you move all of that? I know for sure that the couch is heavy, I was the one that had to bring it in here.” He was confused on how you did this all on your own. You weren’t weak, he knew that, but you certainly weren’t as strong as him, you didn’t have the same training he did.

You chuckled again and punched his shoulder lightly. “I’ve been working out.”

“When?”

“What? Do you want to work out with me? I’m sure you would love to see that.” You ask teasingly.

“If you’re offering.” He replied bluntly.

You give a quick laugh and walk towards the kitchen and dining room, expecting him to follow. He did.

“Now, what would my big, strong cop like for dinner?” You asked, turning to look at him with a wink.

He chuckled at your tone and shrugged his shoulders. “Whatever you would like. I’m not in the mood for anything specific.” He explains, taking a seat at the table. He leaned back into the chair with a sigh, closing his eyes.

“Alright. How about turkey wraps?” You asked to which he hummed in response.

You started making them quietly, you didn’t want to disturb Leon. His job was oftentimes loud and all he wanted when he got home was peace and quiet. You respected this and always tried your best to remain quiet, keeping your voice soft and low. He never said anything about this but you knew he appreciated it.

It didn’t take long for dinner to be made. You plated the wraps and walked over to the table, setting one down in front of Leon and one in front of where you sat. You took your seat and waited for Leon to open his eyes before eating. When he opened them, he flashed you a gentle smile and began eating, you did the same.

“So what did you have for lunch?” He asked casually.

“Oh. I forgot to eat lunch.” You replied hesitantly.

Leon looked up at you, his eyes serious. “You have to eat lunch babe, it’s unhealthy not too.”

“I know, I was just distracted. I swear, nothing else made me not eat.” You explained to which Leon calmed down a bit.

“Just try to eat something for me tomorrow alright. I’ll be home tomorrow so I can make you up something good.” He offered.

You nodded and continued eating.

It had always been like this with the two of you, he was always watching out over you, making sure you ate. Before you met him, you would often skip meals for one reason or another, but when you got with him, he was always pushing you to eat when mealtime came around. He wouldn’t force it onto you but he would try his best to gently coerce you into eating. You appreciated the way he would look out for you but sometimes, you wished he would let it slide. Only sometimes, that was when you let your insecurities get the best of you.

Dinner came and went and soon it was time for bed. Leon had already laid down while you were in the bathroom, getting ready for bed.

You were standing in front of the bathroom mirror, staring at your stomach and thighs. You couldn’t help but think about lunch today, the lunch you didn’t eat. You felt guilty for not eating but you felt dirty for eating dinner. There was no balance. The pudge of your stomach testified to your feelings. You hated your stomach and thighs, how much bigger they were than everyone else’s, you wanted them to be smaller but you didn’t want to stop eating, you didn’t want to let Leon down.

You were trapped within a box of constant obsession, obsession with being skinny and obsession with gratifying Leon. You didn’t which to choose, you wanted both of them, you needed both of them. You felt as though without one obsession the next one wouldn’t exist. You couldn’t pick between them.

You sighed and looked away, pulling your shirt outwards a bit. You went to grab a different one, one that wasn’t as tight when you noticed Leon standing behind you, staring at you through the mirror.

“You alright?” He asks.

You nod and walk over to him, he was leaning against the doorway. “I just need to grab a different shirt.” You explain.

“Why? I like this one.” He says, placing his hands on your hips.

“Don’t say that when you don’t mean it.” You replied, removing his hands from your hips.

He smiled at you and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you close against him. “And how would you know what I like and don’t like?” He asks curiously.

“Because it makes my stomach look big.” You reply, looking away. You felt bad for thinking this way but it was the truth, there was no hiding it.

“Where?” He asks, tilting your head to look back up at him. He leans forward and presses his forehead agaisnt yours. “I don’t see anything wrong with you.” He whispers, his breath fanning across your face like a warm blanket.

You meet him with anxious eyes, your thoughts were getting the better of you again. “But-“

“Nope. No but’s” He interrupts you, placing a finger over your lips to silence you. He reaches down and places his hands on the sides of your stomachs. “You’re beautiful. You know that right? If I had to choose who was the most beautiful girl in the world, I would choose you. You want to know why?”

You nod slowly, not sure if you want to know or not. You were scared that he might turn this around and go the other direction with it.

He slides his hands down to you hips and pulls you even closer. “Let me show you what all I like about you. Come here.”

He pulls you over to the standing mirror in the corner of y’all’s bedroom. He places you in the center of it and has you look at yourself in the mirror. You try to look away but he grabs your chin, as gentle as he can, and holds you there. He then takes his other hand runs it over your body, his touch is featherlight, it tickles and leaves a trail of heat in its wake.

He runs his hand up your shirt, letting it rest on your stomach. He smiles lovingly at you in the mirror. “You want to know why I like your stomach so much dear?” He asks you, his voice a low whisper, it sends chills down your spine.

“Why?”

“Because it’s a perfect place to rest my head an it will carry our future children. You’ll be such a good mother, I hope you know that.” His voice holds a fondness you rarely hear, it causes your heart to swell and a blush to spread across your cheeks.

He chuckles at this reaction and runs his hand down to your thighs. He gently squeezes one as he speaks. “You wanna know why I like your thighs so much?” He asks, his voice takes on a more darker tone, one that’s more lustful. “It’s because they feel so nice around my head.”

“Oh.” You say breathlessly. You blush at this, wanting to look away, to hide your embarrassment, but you can’t. You can only look at him. There’s a part of you that’s enjoying this a bit too much.

He leans his head down and kisses your neck softly, using his teeth and tongue to tease the sensitive skin. You gasp at the touch and move your head as much as you can in his grip, giving him further access. His free hand slips between your thighs, reaching upward.

You squirm under his touch. He smiles at you in the mirror and moves his hand further up and rubs against you. You gasp and grab his arm. You squeeze your thighs together under his touch.

“Relax.” He whispers against your ear, his warm breath tickling your skin. He is staring at you through the mirror, his eyes are intense, focused, and filled with desire.

You swallow hard and stare back at him with timid eyes. You weren’t a stranger to this attention but something about this was different, it felt all too much. It felt so real and open, you didn’t like looking at yourself but at the same time, it turned you on in a way you couldn’t describe.

You stare at him for a minute before slowly relaxing your legs, allowing him to continue. He continues and your grip on his arm tightens.

“Let me show you how beautiful you are.” His voice is just below a whisper, barely audible.

A shiver runs down your spine at his voice and you lean against him, closing your eyes. His hand continues to run against you for a bit until he pulls it away, moving it upwards towards your neck.

“Open your eyes.” It was more of a demand than a request.

You opened them and he smiled as he looked at you. His hand delicately ran across your neck before he leaned down and placed soft kisses along the sensitive skin. She let out a breathy moan, a small, timid sound, embarrassment was flooding through her. He smiled at this and pulled away, looking up at you in the mirror.

“Do you know why I like your neck? It’s because you get so flustered when I kiss it. Like this.” He leans down and kisses your neck again, this time with more fervor than before.

Your face turns red at the mention of you being flustered, you’re embarrassed over being called out. This whole process was calling you out and you couldn’t tune him out, he was too close to you, you were enjoying far too much.

He drops his hand, keeping the one on jaw in the same position, slightly tightening his grip. He leans forward and places a kiss to the back of your jaw, just under your ear. He nibbles on the skin, causing another moan to escape your mouth.

“Oh those noises of yours are so divine, my love.” He whispers against your ear, his breath tickling your skin.

Your eyes go wide but not because he complimented you, no because of how turned on you were by his praise. It struck a chord with you, a chord you didn’t know existed until now.

Leon then readjusted his grip on your jaw, tilting your head up slightly. “You know what I like about your jaw? It’s a perfect spot to place my lips. It’s also perfect for grabbing.” He explained in a low voice, his lips so close to your ear that it almost felt like he was kissing it.

You watched him through the mirror as he trailed a hand over your hip, his eyes connecting with yours. He was smiling, always he was smiling at you. God, you wished you could marry that smile already.

He then let go of your jaw for a moment, reaching down and grabbing the hem of your shirt with both hands, he pulled it over your head, letting it fall towards the floor afterwards. He then reaches up and grabs both of your breasts.

“You know why I like your boobs?” He asks, gently massaging them. “It’s because they’re the perfect place to lay my head, plus they fit so perfectly in my hands. It's like they were made for me and only me.” A hint of possessiveness enters his voice as he says this, a glint of dominance clear in his eyes.

You lean back against him, relaxing into his touch. That is until he drops his hands, stepping away from you for a minute. He smiles at you through the mirror, a wicked and twisted smile, one sure to turn your stomach with anxiety.

“Turn to face me and lay on your back.” He demanded gently, his smile softening slightly as he noticed your anxious attitude.

You did as told, looking up at him confused as to what he had in mind. He sits on his knees at the end of your feet and leans over you. He takes his hand and tilts your head back until you could see yourself in the mirror, your view upside down now.

“Don’t look away and don’t close your eyes.” He commands, kissing your chin before moving back to an upright position.

Taking the fabric of your pants in hand, he tugs them down, pulling them all the way off and tossing them to the side. He does the same thing with your underwear, exposing the cold air to your lower regions.

You try your best not to look away as he turns to look back at you, his smile ever so present.

“You look so beautiful, my love. I hope you’ll be able to see just how beautiful you really are.” He speaks softly, his thumb caressing your inner thigh. He then spreads your thighs apart and wraps them around his neck as he leans down, pressing a warm kiss against you.

You gasp, his eyes flickering up to capture yours for a second before he runs his tongue against you, causing a low moan to escape you. He takes a moment to enjoy your moan, savoring the sound before continuing, running his tongue along your clit.

You clench your hands as he continues to run his tongue against your clit, your mouth hanging open as you moan. Your eyes stared at the top of his head, his hair falling in front of his face. You reached down and grabbed it, intertwining it between your fingers. It was soft and cool, contradicting the heat that was your body.

Leon takes his hand and presses two fingers inside of you, stroking you in tandem with his tongue. You hands tighten on his hair and you can hear him groan, something that only adds to your excitement , to your enjoyment.

Leon continues, lavashing you with his touches until it feels all too much, bringing you right to edge. Your core is burning, your heart beating out of your chest, and your throat slightly sore from moaning so much. God, you swear you could see constellations as his tongue only continued to pleasure you, that was until he stopped, pulling away from you completely.

A whine emitted from your mouth involuntarily, coming out as an impulse as you were denied your orgasm. He looked at you in the mirror and smiled.

“Next time, I’m recording that sweet voice of yours.” He says as he leans back over you, placing a gentle kiss on your lips. “Now, get on your hands and knees, facing the mirror, please.”

Your face went red at his words, you were always embarrassed with this position, far more embarrassed about than any other position the two of you have tried. However, despite your embarrassment, you did as told, sitting up and facing the mirror, supporting yourself from your hands and knees.

His smile grew as he watched you, a lustful look overtaking his eyes, desire was written all over his face.

He placed his hands on your hips and positioned himself behind you. He leaned over you again, placing kisses all along your back. You watch him, your cheeks burning hot. The mirror, the position, the constant kissing, and constant praise was all too overstimulating your brain, emotions swirling left and right. It was too much, you couldn’t handle it all.

He positioned himself behind you and slowly pushed himself in, giving you time to adjust. He starts at a slow pace, a rhythmically and constantly pleasing pace. He’s watching you, his eyes staring directly into yours. You go to look away but he grabs you by the hair and pulls your head back up, you gasp at the sudden movement.

Your eyes met his again as he quickened his pace, pushing into you at a faster pace, one that causes you to moan and whine. You were already denied an orgasm once, now everything felt all so sensitive and alive, every little movement of his was driving you crazy.

He angles himself, hitting in the exact spot that sends you flying over the edge, constellations forming in front of you. You could see Cassiopeia and Orian, all handcrafted by Leon, made perfectly for you. It isn’t long until you feel that heat flood back to your core, your body twitching and convulsing as waves of pleasure wash over you.

You could hear him groaning, his hand tightening around your hair, eliciting a moan in response. You never knew that his hands in your hair would be so hot. You never knew watching yourself being railed would be so exciting.

Second after glorious second goes by and you soon feel yourself reaching your climax, you look up at Leon, he’s already watching you. His eyebrows are scrunched together in concentration, it’s almost cute.

“Fuck, Leon, I think…” Your words are interrupted by your own moan, his thrusts reaching even deeper now. Your hands curl into fists and every muscle in your body contracts as Leon quickened his pace, his thrusts more frenzied and pleasure driven.

It isn’t long until you’re pushed over that edge, your eyes closing as your orgasm hits you hard. You can feel him cum inside you shortly after, riding you through your high. Your muscles relax and you can feel your legs about to give out.

“Leon.” You breathlessly whisper his name, opening your eyes to look back up at him.

“Yes, my love?”

“We should do that again sometime.”

He chuckles and pulls out of you, running a hand along your back. You sit down on your knees as he comes to sit behind you, his arms wrapping around you warmly. He places a kiss on your temple before leaning his nose against your hair, breathing you in.

“I love you, beautiful. I love you so much.”

You smile and lean back against him. “I love you too, dear.”

“Now would you like to head to bed or watch a movie in our freshly rearranged living room?” He asks, a slight tease to his voice.

Your smile grows and you close your eyes again, enjoying being so close to him. “Whatever works best for you.”

They ended up going for the movie, however neither of them got to watch it, they both passed out on the couch a few minutes into the film.

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Thank you for reading loves 🖤