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lovebugism · 7 months

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Hi! Could I pls request a Steve x shy!reader drabble? Maybe they’re a bit of a bookworm and they have a meet cute at a library or bookstore or something ☺️ I love your fics, and I hope you’re having a good day! 💛

i've been working on this wip for ages but i loved this request too much not to finish! thanks for being patient with me anon!

summary: steve hopeless romantic harrington meets shy!reader at a bookstore and fluffy awkwardness ensues (meet cute, strangers to lovers-ish, fluff, 2.1k)

fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

Five hours go by like minutes, tucked away in the back of the library — your own little corner of the world.

Because all your spare cash went to groceries and good food (and the newest Margaret Atwood novel just dropped), you hide in the back of the bookstore and get lost in the nostalgic earthy scent of the thick pages you’ve been waiting ages to read.

You sit between the dystopian and gothic fiction aisles, back propped against the former with your knees folded to your chest, and speed-read as much as you can before closing.

The in-store café offers complimentary coffee and bagels. It’s lukewarm and a little cardboard-y, but it’s fuel nonetheless. You only get up once to use the bathroom and stretch your stiff limbs. Other than that very brief break, you’re relatively unbothered — until page 196, anyway.

“Where are the porno mags?” a male voice wonders from a few aisles down. It’s not the first voice you’ve heard all day, but it’s certainly the closest.

A feminine voice follows, nearer now. “There’s no porn, dingus. I was just saying that so you’d drive me here.”

“…That’s so fucked up.”

“You’ll get over it.”

“No, actually. I won’t. This might be the end of our friendship, now that I think about it.”

Their conversation draws closer and closer to you in time with their nearing footsteps. You figure they must be looking for a different section — certainly not the one you’ve had to yourself all day — but then they turn the corner of the aisle and stop short when they find you sitting there.

“Oh,” a pretty girl hums as she stares down at you, rouge mouth forming a softly pouted ‘o’ shape.

Her hair is a sandy color, like a beach, and it’s chopped at her shoulders. She wears a pair of slacks and suspenders over an oversized button-up. She looks like a character from a book you wish you could write.

She smiles down at you, a tad bit awkwardly. “Hello…”

“Shit— ” you curse, scrambling to get your legs out of the aisle. Your face burns as you bring your knees back to your chest. “I’m sorry.”

“No worries,” she shrugs and walks on by you.

A pretty boy follows.

His hair is a really specific shade of brown — like chocolate syrup mixed with honey. It’s pushed back over his forehead, messy with intention. A few strands hang over his thick brows like they’re meant to be there. He’s got a layer of scruff on his chiseled jaw that’s a shade lighter than his actual hair.

His wide eyes are a similar chocolate-syrup-honey color.

He’s almost annoyingly pretty. The kind of pretty that seems unfair.

“Don’t apologize to her,” the pretty boy jokes with a lopsided smile. “She’s a total bully.”

The pretty girl interjects. “Don’t listen to him. He’s an idiot. And stop bothering her, dingus— she’s obviously trying to read.”

You breathe out an awkward laugh through your nose.

You don’t want them to think you’re actually annoyed, but you don’t have the words to tell them that. You have no idea what to say to them, actually. They’re obviously far cooler than you are, and the notion almost threatens you.

The pretty boy doesn’t follow his pretty friend. He lets her roam the aisle, obviously in search of something, and leans against the gothic fiction section across from you.

“So, uh… What are you reading?” he asks.

You don’t trust your voice to answer him verbally, lest the words get stuck in your throat and make you sound like Kermit the Frog. You flash him the dystopic, renaissance painting-esque cover with a tightlipped smile.

“Handmaid’s Tale,” he reads with a squint, then nods. “Sounds fun.”

“It’s not,” the pretty girl scoffs. She thumbs through her own copy of the book that she plucked from the shelf. “It’s the one I was telling you about on the way over.”

The pretty boy’s face screws up in disgust. “Oh. The one with gross men?”

“The one with the gross men.”

He turns back to you, looking apologetic. “Sorry, I take it back. Not fun.”

You smile wordlessly in response.

“He’s Steve, by the way,” the pretty girl says to you, nodding to the pretty boy. “I figured if he’s gonna keep weirdly hovering over you, you should probably know his name—”

“I’m not hovering!”

“—You can call him dingus if you want. I’m Robin.”

“Hi,” you greet, quiet and mousy.

“Do you come around here often?” the boy — Steve — wonders, bushy brows pinched and burly arms crossed over his chest. “I feel like I’ve seen you before—”

“Ugh. Stop flirting with her.”

“I’m asking a question!”

You purse your lips to the side in attempts to hide your smile and your gaze back to your book.

They argue like a married couple. You wonder how long they’ve been together — six months or six years?

“Sorry about him. He’s not usually this annoying,” Robin quips with a playful twinkle in her deep ocean eye. She slams the book closed with a ringed handand walks back towards you. She pushes Steve ahead and away from you in the process. “Alright, I got the goods. Let’s go before they close.”

Your eyes widen as you look down at your wrist.

Ten minutes until eight o’clock.

You turn to the book once more and find that you’re about a hundred pages shy from the end of it. You tend to read like a maniac if you’re focused enough, but there’s no way you’re finishing it before closing.

“Shit…”

“You okay?” Steve asks, still lingering at the very end of the aisle, though Robin has already left for check-out.

You rise and straighten out your clothes — the very un-special sweatshirt and baggy jeans duo you’d changed into after work. It’s not unlike the navy blue henley and similarly colored denim he’s got on, but you don’t look nearly as pretty as he does.

“Yeah,” you shrug, not quite meeting his gaze as you return the book that feels like it only fits in your hands. “I just— I didn’t realize how late it was.”

You don’t expect to see Steve looking so concerned when you turn back to him. His brows are furrowed, honey eyes glinting in question. “You’re not getting it? You looked like you were almost done.”

“Oh, I don’t— I can’t…” you stammer then trail off, fidgeting awkwardly ahead of him.

You don’t want this pretty boy’s first impression of you to be that you’re completely and utterly broke. Even if this is the last you ever see of him, you’ll only be remembered as that one girl from the bookstore who couldn’t buy herself anything.

“I figured I could just come buy tomorrow and finish it…”

“Oh. Okay. Well, it was… it was nice meeting you, then.”

“You, too,” you murmur with a tightlipped smile, eager to get away from a moment you don’t feel very deserving of.

Out of every girl this pretty boy could’ve chosen, why did it have to be the one in the very back of the bookstore who was too poor to get anything other than a free coffee and bagel?

You chuck both in the bin as you head towards the exit.

The sun has almost finished setting when you leave — mostly disappeared over the skyline, but painting the sky a deep lavender shade unique to the twilight hour. You stand at the crosswalk — the man on the speaker shouting “wait!” at your side — as you anticipate the orange hand across the street to turn into a white stick figure.

“I told you she’d still be here,” a familiar voice sounds from a few paces behind you, mostly drowned out by the sounds of passing cars. A louder “hey!” follows. You only think the voice might be calling for you until it comes closer.

“Hey!” It comes again, louder now.

You look over your shoulder and find Steve from the Bookstore striding towards you.

Both happy and confused to see him, your wavering smile is paired with a pair of furrowed brows. “Hey…”

“Sorry, you just— you left this.”

When your eyes manage to flit away from his sculpted face — which you just noticed looks eerily similar to Michelangelo’s David — you find that he’s holding a book in his hands. Handmaid’s Tale. The same copy you were reading, dog-eared just like you left it.

Your contorted features never falter. “I didn’t…” you trail off with the shake of your head, laughing softly. “I didn’t buy that.”

“No, I know,” Steve shrugs with a crooked grin. “I did.”

You think he might be implying he bought it for you, but then you realize that’s crazy, because why would he do that for you? That’s the sort of thing that happens to girls in Brontë novels, not to you.

“Youdid?” you echo like an idiot because it’s all you can think to say.

“Yeah. ‘Cause, you know, you looked pretty interested in it and everything…”

“But you didn’t have to… You didn’t have to buy it for me—”

“It’s not a big deal. Seriously. I mean, it’ll save you the extra trip down here tomorrow, right?”

You meet his confident grin with a trembling one. “I can’t take it…”

“Well, if you don’t take it, that means I have to keep it, and—”

“He’s pretty much illiterate,” Robin calls from a little ways behind him.

She’s waiting by a pretty maroon car. It looks like a luxury model of some kind, shiny like it’s fresh off the lot. She leans against it like it’s hers, but Steve’s got the keys in his hand — the one not holding the book he bought for you.

“…I was gonna say I haven’t read anything since junior year of high school, but sure,” he concedes with a shrug. His eyes sparkle down at you— or maybe it’s just the street lamps flickering on. Either way, you feel your stomach whirling. He waves the book at you. “Take it. You’ll actually read it.”

“But…” you trail off, eyes flickering over to Robin. You step closer to Steve and lean in like you’re about to tell him a secret. “Won’t your girlfriend be upset?”

“Girlfriend?” the boy repeats with pinched brows. He goes soft with realization a second later, then starts to laugh. “No. Robin, she’s— No. She’s not really my type.”

“Oh. Shit. Sorry,” you stammer with wide eyes.

If cool, pretty girls aren’t his type, then there’s no way in hell you are.

Slightly comforted by his assurances, when he motions the book to you again, you take it.

“Well, thank you, Steve. That’s… That’s really nice.”

He shrugs again. “’S no big deal. Really.”

“But I feel a little bad,” you confess quietly, peeking at him from beneath your lashes while you fidget with the book in your anxious hands. “I feel like I should give you something in return, or, I don’t know, like—”

“You don’t have to do anything,” Steve assures with the shake of his head. He swipes a hand through the chocolate-honey locks and flashes you a smile that borders on shy. “But if you wanted to go out for coffee or something sometime, then I’d be willing to call it even.”

Your cheeks burn. You don’t know if you’re breathing anymore, or if you even can. A quiet smile quirks at the corner of your mouth as you nod. “Coffee sounds good,” you answer sheepishly.

“Cool,” Steve replies coolly, like he isn’t totally beaming down at you. “Then, just… call me whenever you’re free.”

“Oh, I don’t— I don’t have your number.”

His sneakers scuff against the sidewalk as he walks backwards to his car. He just nods at you, smiling gently as he argues, “Yeah, you do.”

Your brows furrow in confusion — because you most certainly don’t. He was a stranger to you a little more than ten minutes ago. You have no reason to have his number.

Realization settles over you like pinpricks down your spine, butterflies in your belly.

You open the front cover of the book and find several numbers written down at the very bottom of the cover page.

Call me when you finish, the note reads in half-legible chicken scratch. I’m not really a book guy, but I could probably hear you talk about them all day.

He signs off with his name, number, and a sloppy smiley face.

You don’t realize you’re beaming until you already are.

When you look back up at Steve, you find him standing at the open driver’s side door, already smiling back at you.

#published by bug #steve harrington x reader #stranger things x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #st drabbles #stevie drabble #event: fictober!

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snekberry · 2 years

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future!jon waiting for his martin to arrive

post MAG-200 tma time travel au series

[ID: A four panel comic about Jonathan Sims from the future interacting with Jon and Martin from season 1 of TMA. Future Jon is a thin, brown-skinned man with long, greying dark hair in a ponytail, and various scars. He wears a green “What the Ghost” hoodie. Jon from the past has short hair with less gray, and wears glasses, and a white button down shirt with a black tie. Martin is a large, pale man with red hair and glasses, and wears a blue sweater over a white collared shirt.

The first panel shows Future Jon lounging in a chair, while drinking from a mug. There is an arrow pointing to him that reads “borrowing past! Jon’s spare clothes”. He is grinning with his eyes closed and saying “I’m waiting for my boyfriend to arrive in this timeline.”

The next panel shows Jon and Martin from the past. Past Jon is sipping from his own mug, and looking at Future Jon with interest, as he thinks “I get a boyfriend in the future?” Martin is also holding a mug, and smiles pleasantly as he asks “Oh?”

The next panel shows them again, as Martin gets jealous, and tightens the grip on his mug until it begins to crack under his hands. His expression is still pleasant as he asks “Who’s your boyfriend?” Past Jon notices Martin’s mug and reacts with shock, saying “Good lord!”

The last panel shows Future Jon again, sitting forward a bit and grinning slyly at the pair of them, looking highly amused. He says “Oh, you’ll see.” End ID.]

Thank you @/coulson-is-an-avenger for the ID!!

#tma #time travel au #tma time travel au #jon sims #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #jmart #jonmartin #magpod #magnus pod #snekberry draws #the magnus archives #tma comic

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shares-a-vest · 12 days

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Prompt: Protection/Protective (Discord Drabble)

"Steve, I can – "

" – No, I got it!"

"Just let me – "

"No, I – Oh fuck!"

Steve lunges for the bedside drawer, hoping his uncoordinated, flailing gesture will stop the thing from falling to the floor, but it's too late. The drawer tips straight out of its rungs, the hardwood knocking Steve in the hand before it falls and spills the entire contents to the ground.

Spare keys, three-too-many cheery-flavoured chapsticks, baseball cards, a porno mag he had purchased back in Spring and finally, the goddamn condoms that are the cause of all the mess.

He whines and rests his head on Eddie's panting chest and his partner groans back and throws a lazy arm across his face.

This has all been a total disaster – the worst of all of Steve's sexual escapades. Even worse than the time Candy Simmons kicked him in the head and nearly knocked him unconscious when he was in the middle of going down on her on Tommy H's bed.

It didn't help that he and Eddie were already so nervous. So they had already wasted the afternoon fumbling around with neither of them all that sure about what the hell they were doing in the first place – plus they had his own constant back twinges and Eddie's hand-turned-full-arm cramp to contend with.

But after working through and accommodating all that, they were finally ready. Or so they thought before Steve found himself unable to get his big, stupid, sweaty paws on his box of condoms.

"Wait," he says, stretching an arm out to palm around on the floor, "I think I got it."

Steve sticks out his tongue for good measure, deep in concentration as his fingers skim over the spilled items. His eyes go wide and he grins down at Eddie as his hand hits the already-opened box.

"Found 'em," he beams, bolting upright as he holds up a condom wrapper in victory.

Eddie giggles and scrambles to sit up, all eager and giddy again as Steve moves to tear the thing open as quickly as possible.

Only it doesn't tear. The wrapper merely crinkles between his fingers, stretching and fraying.

"Fuck," he mutters through gritted teeth.

Steve swings his legs over the edge of the bed, abandoning his partner to plant his feet on the beige carpet to pick up another.

And the same goddamn thing happens.

He shakes the second wrapper in his hands, wringing it in frustration until Eddie scoots up behind him, snaking his hands around his middle.

And with Eddie's hardness pressing right up against his lower back well... Steve remembers just what they were doing here.

"Let me do it," Eddie offers sweetly, bringing his hands up to join Steve's own as he hooks his chin on his shoulder, "– Oof, that box is looking pretty full down there, Casanova."

"Shut up!" Steve laughs.

"Jesus Christ!" Eddie curses in his ear, struggling with the wrapper with enough force he begins shaking their joined form.

He drops the condom on the ground and brings his hands up to Steve's front, smoothing over his bare chest as they both glare down at a new enemy.

Eddie sighs.

"Let's just get dressed and go to the gas station then."

Update: 3/05/24 Part 2 or read the whole thing on ao3

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie ficlet #lilys drabbles #stwgdailyprompt

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reality-detective · 2 months

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It's going to be biblical 👇

The only conclusion here is: AMERICA....REPENT!

Think the coming eclipse is nothing? I did, too, until I discovered all these FACTS!

I don't claim to know what all of this means, exactly, but I believe it's important enough for all of us to be aware that this is happening and pray for wisdom.

On April 8th, 2024, there will be an eclipse. One eclipse is already amazing but this one is actually the last in a 3-part series that has SO much meaning behind it. It is important that we recognize that God said that He would use the sun, moon and stars to communicate with us:

Genesis 1:14- "Then God said, 'Let there be lights in the expanse of the heavens to separate the day from the night, and let them be for signs and for seasons and for days and years..."

Luke 21:25 - "There will be signs in the sun, moon and stars. On the earth, nations will be in anguish and perplexity at the roaring and tossing of the sea."

So now we know that God said that He would use the sun, moon and stars to communicate with us, so let's break down this 3-part eclipse series:

1) With the path of this last eclipse, combined with the first 2 eclipses (one in 2017 and the other in 2023), it will create the Hebrew letter over America that is "Aleph Tav" and in Greek it is the "Alpha and Omega" - both means "The beginning and the end." God said in Revelation 21:6 that He is the beginning and the end and this Aleph Tav is like His signature. Why would He use an eclipse to put His signature over America? Let's dig deeper:

2) God has used eclipses to warn nations of coming judgement so that the nation can repent of their sinful ways and come back to Him. This happened with the story of Ninevah. God told Jonah to go to the wicked nation of Ninevah and warn them about coming judgement. Jonah ran away from the assignment and while out at sea got swallowed up by a huge fish and was in its belly for 3 days. Jonah repented of running away so the whale spit him up. He then went to Ninevah and warned the people but there was something that also happened while he was warning the people...an eclipse came over the land.

In the 19th century, ancient tablets were discovered that described an eclipse called the Bur-Sagale eclipse where the totality of the eclipse landed right over Ninevah while Jonah was there preaching of the 40 day warning before the coming destruction. Because of this, the people realized that this was a sign from God that what Jonah was saying was true and they repented and God spared their nation.

It is amazing how much America mirrors Ninevah. (If you don't see it, you may be part of the problem.) To make this even more clear, this last eclipse on April 8th will be going over 7 cities here in America called - yep you guessed it - NINEVAH! I honestly didn't even know that we had any city here in the U.S. named that but here we are - with this eclipse going over these cities (and there will be an 8th one that it goes over also called Ninevah in Canada.)

Here are the cities: 👇

Nineveh, Texas

Nineveh, Missouri

Nineveh, Indiana (this will be the highest magnitude of eclipse Mag 1.023, the local time predicted for it to occur is at 3:07 PM)

Nineveh, Ohio

Nineveh, Pennsylvania

Nineveh, Virginia

Nineveh, New York

Nineveh, Nova Scotia (Not in the US)

Could this be that God is warning us just as He warned Ninevah? There have been many "Jonahs" in the past few years warning the nation that we need to repent and add in this sign above our heads - we can't turn away from the fact that it is not a coincidence. But if you need more proof, let's keep going...

The first part of this 3 part eclipse series was in 2017. The path of that eclipse went over 7 cities named Salem, which is short for Jerusalem (Ps. 76).

Salem, Oregon

Salem, Idaho

Salem, Wyoming

Salem, Nebraska

Salem, Missouri

Salem, Kentucky

Salem, South Carolina

The mathematical "chances" of there being 7 Salem's with the first eclipse and then 7 Ninevah's for the 3rd eclipse is unthinkable. But what about the 2nd part of the eclipse?

4) Perhaps the most striking piece of the 2nd eclipse is that the precise center-line of eclipse path exits the USA directly over Corpus Christi. Corpus Christi means the "Body of Christ" and is one of the only towns named that in the world!

But let's go back to this upcoming eclipse and dig even deeper...

4) Jonah was giving a 40 day warning to Ninevah during the eclipse. If you look at our April 8th eclipse and fast forward 40 days then you will get to May 18, 2024 - the day before Pentecost. The history of Pentecost is that is the last Spring Feast that the Lord has given us (there are 4 in the Spring and 3 in the Fall). This is the day that the Lord sent the Holy Spirit down to all those who have accepted Christ. We are told that the "Restrainer" (many believe this is the Holy Spirit) will be removed before the Tribulation could it be that this is a warning for that? I'm not sure as that is a worldwide event and this eclipse will be just over North America but it is something definitely to think and pray about for more clarity and wisdom. No matter what, there are too many things lining up for it to not be nothing and so my job is to get the information out to you all so that you can at least be aware of these signs that God is giving us so that you can pray about it.

But let's keep going...

5) From the start of this 3 part eclipse to the end, it will be 7 years. God uses numbers a lot to communicate with us, and 7 has a ton of meaning. A few examples are - He created the world in 7 days, there will be a 7 year tribulation, 7 is used for completion, etc.

) Going back to how this correlates with Jonah & Ninevah's story -at the time of this eclipse, there will be another sign in the sky...it will take place under the constellation, Cetus, which is the whale constellation! And not only will it pass through the 8 cities in North America named Ninevah, it will also pass through Jonah, Texas! Speaking of other towns that it will pass through, these are some of the other city names that it will go right over:

Rapture, Indiana

Williamston, Kentucky - this is where the Ark Encounter is located. The Ark Encounter is a full size replica of Noah's Ark.

Eagle Pass, Texas - where we are having so many border issues.

And the point where it crosses the 2017 eclipse to mark the center of the X is an area in southern Illinois called Little Egypt. What is even more fascinating about this is that Little Egypt is sandwiched in between 2 other cities called Alpha, Kentucky and Omega, Illinois - both having the 2017 eclipse come over their cities. Furthermore, the intersection of the 2017 and 2024 solar eclipses occurs directly over the New Madrid Fault Line, a major seismic zone. An earthquake along this fault line could potentially destroy the U.S., making it one of the most perilous fault lines in the country. I have no idea if this will happen or not, but there are too many things here that are all literally lining up to not share with everyone.

7) One more interesting fact is that there are 2,422 days in between the 2017 eclipse and the 2024 eclipse. If you look up 2422 in Strong's Concordance, an Bible concordance that has every word of the KJV, takes us to Exodus 1:19 which says,

"The midwives answered Pharaoh, "Hebrew women are not like Egyptian women; they are vigorous and give birth before the midwives arrive."

Why would this be of any significance? Well, to me, it reminds me of how Jesus said that His return would be like a woman in labor with the signs of His coming growing stronger and closer together. We are at a point in history where we are seeing all of the signs that He gave us happening before our eyes. In fact, we are even seeing things that will happen during the tribulation get setup now. If we are seeing those things being setup now, that must mean that we are super close to it actually happening. Going back to God saying that He uses the sun, moon and stars to show us signs - and then Jesus saying that the signs of His coming will be like a woman in labor, well this information leading us back to Exodus 1:19 explaining that the Hebrew women have labor fast is so interesting to me! Could we be on the brink of the rapture and tribulation!? I don't know exactly when it will happen but Jesus did tell us that we would know the season and I do believe that we have been in that season for the past few years and are pushing closer and closer to it!

It is no secret that this world has gone mad and everyone knows that there is something happening behind the scenes that feels really uncomfortable. If you have that feeling, you are right! There is a major push for things to happen that were predicted to happen over 2,000 years ago. Most people seek their understanding in the wrong place though. They look to the news and the world to guide them; however, these sources will only bring more questions, not answers. It causes people to live in fear, anxiety and depression. However, Jesus didn't want us to live that way. He gave us the information so that we would know what is happening when we see these things. The first piece of living in His knowledge is accepting that God sent His son, Jesus, to die for our sins and on the 3rd day, Jesus rose from the grave and conquered death. The second piece is to repent to God of your sins and turn away from your sins. Most churches only teach how God loves you but don't teach repentance anymore and that is a HUGE part of your faith. Jesus said that there will be many who come to Him and say, "Lord, Lord, I knew you." But because they didn't repent of their sins and seek Jesus' ways instead of their own, He will reply, "Get away from me, I never knew you." We cannot just live however we want without any consequences. Even little children understand this concept, but it has been lost on most adults. This is why Ninevah was going to see destruction - because they were a self- serving, sinful nation - just like America is today. You can't change the heart of this nation, but you can change your heart and lead your homes to do the same. Third, pray for wisdom in these areas.

I know this has been incredibly deep but just like Proverbs 25:2 says, "It is the glory of God to conceal a thing, but the honor of kings is to search out a matter." This sign in the sky will be right over your head in just a few weeks - will you have the eyes to see what it really means?"

You Decide 🤔

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moongumi · 1 year

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⁀➷ ∵ ❝ stay professional²❞

⟶ simon 'ghost' riley x reader

⟶ cw. ooc!ghost, fem!reader, flirting, established flirtationship, sexual jokes, teasing, fondling, sexual tension, needy.

⟶ note. not edited, written out of pure thirst. this is based on the mission when ghost and soap makes lots of cute jokes (same MC from other ghost fic i've written)

to put it simply, things are tense. everyone could feel it, they could tell. ghost was constantly frustrated, seemingly angry at his own feelings.

"so you're saying you've seen his face?" your voice echoes behind him, making his ears twitch as he walks ahead leading the group.

the person you were talking to, soap snorts, "yep."

"no way." you breathed, mouth agape. your eyes flicker to the back of ghost's head, trying to imagine his face–hm. you've only felt it, with your hands and lips, see the curves of his chin and jaw in the dark. but fuck, that wouldn't compare to getting a look at him–even for a second.

"i’m jealous." you whispered, cocking your head back at soap.

soap chuckles, gripping the stock of his rifle, "nah, you'll be disappointed, trust me."

──────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹──────

"where the fuck, where am i going?" you whisper shout into your radio, feeling the heat of bullets whizzing past your head tearing apart the wood, splitting the beam that protected you.

ghost sighs, his voice deep and grovelled, "calm down."

"i can't calm down." you couldn't. the shadow company had just betrayed you all and here you are, fighting for your life--firing bullets back at the people who you were working with. you rest your head against the wall, breathing heavily.

"get to the church. i'll be there, try to stay quiet."

"they're fucking firing at me, i don't think quiet's an option." with that the two that were shooting at you, drop to the ground with a loud thud.

"get going."

you sigh, moving past the bodies towards the church he mentioned. "where is soap?"

"he's on the way, don't worry about him. worry about yourself" ghost seemed preoccupied, you can hear him reloading his mags.

“you care about me then, you like me ghost?” you decide to tease him, easing the tension and your own stress.

“i like you alive.”

"uh." you groan. “alright, i’ll try to stay alive.”

ghost hears the tone of your voice. he rolls his eyes at his stupidity but decides to go for it. "you wanna hear a joke?"

"from you? you have jokes, ghost." you quip. already your mood is lightened, it lifts a weight off his chest for some reason.

"hm, want 'em or not?"

"maybe," you reply, grabbing spare mags off guns you could find on the ground from all of ghost's work. then you notice a dog, "there's a dog here."

"if it barks, shoot it."

"no way, i'm not shooting a dog," you say.

ghost clicks his tongue, "what has two legs and bleeds?"

you roll your eyes already, breathing in a breath. "what?"

"half a dog."

"fuck off." you groan. his sheepish tone and slight humour were at least comforting but fuck, his jokes were terrible and stone cold. "i didn't like that one."

"want another?" ghost decides to continue the conversation. he was doing it to be able to know what you were doing if you were in trouble–he just needed to know.

"not really to be honest," you say. you see shadows walking around the building and decide to go around hoping to not have to try to murder two large men alone where it would get loud and attract attention.

"two goldfish are in a tank..."

"hm, hm?" you only make noises, it was enough for him.

"one turns to the other and says...'you know how to drive this thing?' just a little army humour." he jokes.

you sigh, "very little, makes absolutely no sense to me."

"you're too young." that might be true, but you were old enough to be working alongside him.

you shrug, and a grin grows on your face as you say, "not too young for you i hope."

you can only hear a slight cough and rustling. no response. so you decide to change the subject.

"i've got one for you."

"let's hear it then," he replies quickly, he definitely heard that earlier then, he was just ignoring it.

"why was the strawberry crying?" you recall a joke soap had told you before.

"why?" he breathed.

"because he was in jam." you chuckle. cutely, he notes.

ghost's eyebrows quirked, a small grin threatening to grow on his face, "not bad, we could do this all night."

"there are many things we could do all night–ghost–" this time he chokes up, rather loudly.

you jog around, managing to sneak by most of the people and gather enough to cause a distraction. the church was properly in sight and it was almost over.

"hm, i’m at the bar now." you poke about, most of it was destroyed but still, "would love something right now."

"you like tequila?" he asks.

"nope, tastes like ass."

"i'd murder for a whiskey."

he definitely would. he seemed like the type to like that kinda thing, you continue, "you mean scotch?"

"i drink bourbon," he replies, which makes sense.

"oh, so like a good boy, huh?" you moaned slightly as you spoke, teasing him.

"shut up." he sighs, "and focus."

──────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹──────

“so you got something for masks?” you ask, nearing the church.

ghost breathes, “what do you mean?”

“mask kink? i hear you sleep with that thing,” you say, hoping he’d give a good response.

“no, you got something against my mask?” he replies.

“i do, take it off.”

“show my face?”

“yes, sir.” something about the way you said that makes his stomach turn–the pits of his gut warm and he shakes his head trying to ignore the feelings.

“negative.”

“damn, are you ugly?” you ask, your voice soft.

“quite the opposite.” you could practically hear the smirk on his face.

“it’s not fair.” you huff, climbing over an iron fence over at the church already, “is soap here?”

“no, he’s almost here. and what’s not fair?”

“he knows what you look like, and i don’t?” you say.

and then you see him, after climbing up the stairs he’s positioned at the window with his sniper rifle as he picked off many of those shadows for you and soap.

ghost feels a weight lift off his shoulders seeing your rather tattered form finally reach him. even with all the dirt, mud and water covering you–his nose, even through the mask caught the scent of you.

“don’t be a hypocrite, snow.”

you walk over to him, resting your gun on the wall. and sigh, “i’m not, my face is on files–”

“i know i’ve seen them.”

wait what? “the fuck–”

he chuckles, turning towards you. his eyes are dark and the paint that coats his eyelids has mostly washed off, “you’re not bad, kid.”

“you’re going to have to stop calling me kid if you’re trying to fuck me.”

ghost’s shoulder tense and his eyes darken, “what?”

“i said what i said.” you walk towards him, god, you both stink but it didn’t fucking matter. the adrenaline, the pain and fucking stench of blood–hours of unease, not knowing. it’s quiet now, silence falls between you two.

your neck cranes to look up at him, peering at him through your own dirtied balaclava, your lashes are heavy–batting them at him. chest rising and falling slowly, the tensions rise and the room grows hot and heavy.

“snow.”

“hm,” you let out a sound.

he drops his hand from the rifle, the stock hits the windowsill. within a second he’s an inch from you, and your head’s against a wall. his hand grips your throat, gently enough–forcing your head up higher for him.

“not now.”

“why not?”

his eyes flicker between your face, and your legs–the legs that are rubbing against themselves and his large thighs. you gulp, lids heavy–feeling the burn of his gaze. his gloved hands feel like fire, from your throat the palm rests on your cheeks and his fingers lace into your loose hair–he grips it. his mask is literally against yours.

you can feel the heat of his breath, “you’ve been fucking teasing me, snow.”

“i know, it was fun, now finish the job.”

his other hand, free, feels up the curves of your body–finds a resting point at your waist, he grips it tightly going under the tattered fabric to feel the heat of your skin. his eyes shut, fuck, it feels good.

“hm,” he groans, into your ear.

your smaller fingers touch his arm, his tattoos peek from his rolled up sleeves. “does it feel good?” the way he moulds your skin like dough. “other parts of me feel better.”

“i bet it does, fuck.” the skull part of his mask nudges your nose, as he breathes you in.

“feel ‘em.” it was the way you looked at him, like you wanted to give him everything. your fingers lace between his, fingerless gloved hands control his own guiding them towards your chest. “they’re yours.”

his large hands near, he could feel them twitching. but of course, fate had other desires. gunfire rings from below and you can spot soap running from way too many shadows for him to handle.

ghost pulls away immediately and grabs his effects. you rolled your eyes, “next time i guess.”

“stay professional, snow.” ghost clears his throat, as you two rush down the stairs to help soap.

you raised your eyebrows, “grabbing my tits seemed professional.”

“i didn’t.”

“you would’ve.”

he rolls his eyes, “but i didn’t.”

end note: i wrote this so looong ago but yea here it is just some teasey stuff with the same characters from the previous ghost fic i wrote kewk

#☾ ⟶ moon writes #FINALLY POSTING THIS #cod x reader #cod smut #call of duty x reader #ghost x reader #ghost smut #ghost fluff #simon riley x reader

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zeroone-eleven · 4 months

Text

Power Naps; Donna Beneviento (Resident Lover)

-------------------------------------------------------

Requested? ❌

"Mananatili, sa iyong tabi mag damag."

"To stay, by your side for as long as can be."

Summary: Visiting your girlfriend, Professor!Donna in her office only to find her fast asleep. You try to wake her up, but she turns the tables and has you falling asleep with her on the sofa. It can't be comfortable, but with her trench coat draped over your shoulders you can't find it in yourself to fight the sleepiness off.

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: None

----------------------٩(◕‿◕｡)۶-----------------------

A sigh leaves your lips as you spare another glance at your watch. You've spent the ast fifteen minutes knocking at the door to Donna's office in intervals but each attempt is greeted with silence. You're never impatient when it comes to your girlfriend, but right now your feet are starting to ache from how you've spent the past fifteen minutes standing outside the door and almost your whole day running around campus to help finalize your club's upcoming event.

You decide to knock once more, giving it another five minutes before you finally knock for the last time and open the door without an invitation- Letting yourself in before immediately shutting the door behind you.

The sight of Donna's office never fails to stop you in your tracks, you haven't been in here a lot but it's stark contrast to how the interior of her house looks like never ceases to surprise you. The walls are bland, and the shelves are empty except for a few volumes of botanical and toxicology texts. A singular file drawer stands behind her seat and the desk is barren except for the tests she's grading, a desk lamp, and a pen holder with a total of three pens in them.

It's said that the way an interior of a personal space is designed can tell you a lot about a person.

You take a moment to wonder why your girlfriend has her walls up so high whenever she's on campus.

You squint for a moment in the dim lighting, and it hits you that maybe your girlfriend wasn't giving you permission to enter her office simply because she wasn't currently in it. You wonder where she could be, you're sure that she's definitely done with her lectures at this hour- And she hasn't gone home yet because she had after all promised that she would drive you back to your dorm today once you were done with your respective responsibilities.

Your questioning thoughts don't cease until after you've looked to your side to find Donna laying on he back on her office sofa, her coat draped over her front- The iconic black trench coat, treated as a makeshift blanket. The sight almost makes you smile, but you take note of how Donna's using the arm rest as a pillow and you frown instead. That's gotta hurt.

You walk over to her side, kneeling on the carpeted floor before you gently brush her bangs away to place a gentle kiss on her forehead and on her scar separately.

"Mahal, wake up. It's almost 7 PM."

Donna's always been a light sleeper, so all it took was a gentle shake to her shoulder for her to start stirring in her slumber. She takes a deep breath before turning her head to face you, a gentle smile taking hold of her lips once her eyes adjust to the dimness of the room and she spots you by her side.

"Hello, Tesoro."

Donna takes your hand in hers and wastes no time in placing a kiss to the back of it. You feel her soft smile slowly shift into a grin when you chuckle at her actions.

"It's time to go home Donna, that couch can't be comfortable at all."

You move your hand to gently rest on her cheek, using your thumb to stroke skin in a gentle sweeping motion. Donna hums, her chest rises with a deep intake of air and her eyes flutter closed again.

"You are correct Tesoro. However, I believe I know of an immediate solution to this issue."

You're unable to get a word out before Donna moves quickly in a flash of black and grey, the next thing you know is that you're lying down on Donna and you're being readjusted so that the two of you can comfortably fit on the couch. A laugh escapes you as your girlfriend peppers your temple and your forehead in kisses.

Struggling against her grip was futile. So you choose to shift until you're comfortable before eventually calming down and just basking in how right it feels to be held in the Botanist's arms.

"We'll regret this when we wake up, I swear-"

Donna laughs without showing her teeth, eyes still remaining closed as if snatching you from the floor and onto the couch with her took no effort at all. She only shushes you before she stats to trace patterns on your back.

"Mia cara flore, that? Is a problem for future us. Right now I simply wish to share the silence and the serenity with you by my immediate side."

She places a lingering kiss to your lips, and you concede to her arguement with a contented hum before pulling away from her and settling down once again. You could never find it in your heart to deny Donna anything she asks for after all.

"A problem for future us. Agreed."

Donna adjusts her coat to cover your frame, the coat now acting as a blanket for the both of you to the best that it can as the ticking of the clock on her office wall lulls you both to sleep eventually.

----------------------٩(◕‿◕｡)۶-----------------------

Translations:

Mahal - Literally translates to "Love" formally it is a word for the emotion, but it is also used as a pet name for a significant other.

Mia cara flore - My darling flower

#Resident Lover Donna Beneviento #Donna Beneviento #donna beneviento x reader #Resident Lover #Resident Lover MC #Donna beneviento x MC #resident evil 8 #Re8 #Resident Evil Donna Beneviento #resident evil donna beneviento x reader #re8 donna #Professor Donna Beneviento #Professor Donna #Professor!Donna Beneviento #Professor!Donna #Professor!Donna Beneviento x Reader #Professor!Donna Beneviento x MC

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ghouljams · 11 months

Text

Alright more Demon!Darlings Au because I was thinking about it at the airport and typed this out while I was at the bar. Waiting. For 5 hours... Ghost’s demon’s name, a little bit of their magic, and a lot of me just vibing.

"Die, you there?" Ghost asks aloud, pressing his finger to his mic out of habit.

"Always," your voice hums by his ear, as clear as if you were next to him, you might be, he hasn't really figured out how this works, "what do you need?"

"Need a count on hostiles in the area."

"Parameters?"

"Hundred meter radius," he presses his back to the wall and waits, he's getting used to this. The loss of pressure on his chest when you leave, the warmth of your return.

"Four count 25 meters ahead, another six 50 meters to your right and zero behind," you pause, "nice work on that by the way."

"Thanks," Ghost checks his mag, crouches to grab the spare you offer from his shadow.

"Want me to drop 'em?"

"Negative."

"You never let me have any fun," he can hear you pouting, "what's the point of having a demon if you never let them do anything demonic?"

"Didn't ask you to tag along, you can shove off back to hell any time." Ghost nods, satisfied with his weapons check and lifts his gun to the ready, pushing off the wall to continue his sweep. You're more than happy to keep your thoughts on that little remark to yourself. Plenty of soldiers would love to have a demon, just because he's perpetually woken up on the wrong side of the bed…

"On your left," you whisper, watching Ghost turn and execute the target with brutal efficiency. Aw, you can't stay mad at him. "Stellar work LT, must have a guardian angel."

"Pushing it," he grumps, unloading the life from another two combatants as he moves closer to target.

You get the memo, less talky, more helping him keep his head. You wonder if any other demons have to deal with this or if you just got assigned to a particularly difficult human. Well, you eye his soul, human might be pushing it.

You whisp ahead, stretching out through the shadows to feel out positions and not to kill anyone, a real misuse of your power honestly, before reporting back to Ghost. He touches his mic whenever he talks to you, it's funny. Like you're going to talk over comms and not directly to him. You keep eyes on him, collecting unused ammunition from corpses and handing it up to him from the shadows whenever he reaches for it. It’s easy work if a waste of your talents.

But if this is how he wants to do things, you’re not going to disagree. You can give him shit for it all you want but at the end of the day he’s technically in command. You wonder if other demons have this much trouble with their summoners. You barely managed to tell him your name before he seemed completely uninterested in you. Now you felt like you were just a glorified UAV in his eyes. Hardly a decent prize for a man of his caliber. You’re sure he feels the same way.

Maybe he’s disappointed in you? Maybe he was expecting a different sort of demon, something less specialized? Maybe he wanted a hell hound or one of those idiots from the all brawn no brain division. He’s practically starving you of your purpose.

Your distraction has consequences. A lone man jumping from a shadowing hiding spot to attach Ghost from behind. You feel him as soon as his feet hit the floor, already vibrating on the edge of violent impact. This is what you’re made for.

Ghost is just a moment too slow, the enemy combatant already halfway towards bashing his skull with the butt of their rifle. Thankfully you have no problem with reaction times. Flicking your wrist to direct you magic, and Ghost’s shadow to do the one thing you’re best at. A long needle of inky shadow pierces through their neck straight through the back of their skull. The man chokes and gurgles blood, dropping his gun to claw and grasp at your construct. Ghost has his knife drawn, you imagine it was with the intent to enact a similar violence. He glances down at the blade, your eyes blinking back at him curiously through the reflection on metal.

“What else can you do?” He asks, professional curiosity coloring his tone more than he’d care to admit. You feel your lips curl into a grin. You’d been hoping he’d ask.

#demon!Darling au #oc: Die #in my head she sounds like Maria from bullet train #just a calming voice in Ghost's ear/head giving him directions #Ghost feed your damn demon can't you see she's starving with bloodlust?#simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #cod ghost #ghost x reader #x reader #although not much romance here #they're just getting used to each other #Ghost thinks Die is a shitty consulation prize for killing so many people but it's only because he didn't read the instruction manual #Soap also doesn't read the manual but at least he listens when his demon yells at him #Konig surprisingly did read the manual and is very efficient with his demon

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postitforward · 1 year

Text

Mental Health Spotlight: Jasmine Marie, Founder of black girls breathing®

Jasmine Marie is a speaker, breathwork practitioner, and the founder of black girls breathing®. Her work is innovating the wellness, healthcare, and research industry by making mental health services accessible to Black women while filling in the gaps of data and research available on this underserved and underrepresented demographic. Marie plans to impact one million Black women and girls with her work by 2025. She is a serial founder with a past life in global haircare brand marketing and an alum of NYU Stern. The impact and range of her work to date is expansive—ranging from underserved minority communities to stressed-out college students and executives. She’s brought her expertise to elite colleges such as Harvard Business School, Columbia University, and Cornell University, and her client list includes corporations such as Estée Lauder Companies, Under Armour, Capital One, Ford Motor Company, Facebook, and Twitter. Marie has been featured in Oprah Magazine, Good Morning America, VOGUE, Forbes, Harper’s Baazar, Marie Claire, Glamour, Nylon Mag, Wall Street Journal, and Black Enterprise, to name a few.

What is black girls breathing®? And why was it created? black girls breathing® is a safe space for Black women to manage their mental and emotional health and heal trauma in their bodies with breathwork and community.

I created black girls breathing® after finishing my breathwork training and seeing so few facilitators that looked like me yet knowing how much chronic stress and trauma (generational, societal, etc.) and decided to create it. I used my background in business to help me develop a model where we could provide this work accessibly.

Do you have any secret hobbies, skills, or interests?

I don’t think I have any secret hobbies but for a while, I would always feel embarrassed whenever anyone asked that question, as a lot of my hobbies can maybe seem boring to others lol. But I love to read. Reading is one of my favorite hobbies. I love having quiet time…any activity that allows me to feel refreshed, sit with my own thoughts and enjoy my solitude. I think because I deal with so many people’s energy that in my spare time, I just like to spend time with self. I love to cook though…it’s a very meditative activity for me that allows me to unwind from my day.

How did you get started in this work? And why is it important to you?

As mentioned above, after my breathwork training, I realized there were so few Black breathworkers. But before that, I found breathwork while being stressed out after graduating from business school at NYU and working in beauty in NYC. My nervous system was so fried I began having physical symptoms…rashes and an inability to sleep. The doctor would see me and always say, “This is stress. How can you reduce your stress?” Fast forward to me finding my first breathwork class and falling in love with the way it allowed me to just feel more space in my mind and body.

WOW — ONE MILLION Black women and girls breathing by 2025 what an ambitious goal! What impact do you see this having?

It is an ambitious goal, but in 2020, we fundraised $55k to make our work accessible for one year. After the year was done, it was so clear that we couldn’t stop there. So many Black women needed this work, and we would hear that over and over again. So I decided if I was going to do this work, I was only interested in creating real impact and a goal that would signify that. Imagining 1 Million Black women using breathwork as a tool to regulate their nervous systems, heal from compounded trauma and reduce the effect that chronic stress has in our community (health challenges linked to chronic stress: heart disease, high blood pressure, breast cancer, ovarian cancer, fertility issues, and the list goes on) will not only affect them but our community as a whole. Ending the passing down of generational trauma and normalizing healing.

What would you suggest to people who feel like they cannot find the time to breathe or practice mindfulness?

I would first affirm that it’s okay they feel that way. Western society has done a great job of making us feel that anything outside of productivity is not only a waste of time but the least important thing we should make space for. Making time for yourself for any mindful activity can be eased into and it can start with being more aware of the present moment and practicing that action on a daily. Maybe you create a routine where every morning for 3 minutes right when you get up, you take a moment to be still, notice your breathing pattern and focus on each and every inhale and exhale.

Why is Black representation important in this industry?

The wellness industry isn’t unlike other industries where Black representation is lacking. I think it’s important to see other Black women caring for themselves because, historically, we’ve been taught to do the opposite for oh so long.

Where do you find joy?

I find joy with my family and my loved ones, in intimate moments with friends, in good food and conversation, and in being able to create something and see it grow, shift, and evolve.

Want to learn more about black girls @blackgirlsbreathing?

Check out their website!

Breathe with us on March 27th @12pm EDT during their Mindful Monday Breathwork for Anxiety session on Tumblr Live

Ask black girls breathing all the questions on your mind for IssueTime on Navigating Anxiety in an increasingly digital, lonely world

Take the pledge with black girls breathing®

#meditation #mindful monday #mindfulness #mental health #well being #tumblr live #black girls breathing x tumblr #black girls breathing #self care #healing #take the pledge #mental health matters #menhealthmatters

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yourgentlegirlfriend · 1 year

Text

Apple pie

my loves!! FIRST OF ALL AS I FINISHED WRITING THIS I NOTICED I HIT 700 FOLLOWERS? I do not deserve the support you guys give me.. AT ALL. Please enjoy this chapter i love you guys so much :((

my masterlist

DISCLAIMER: IF YOU WERE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH NSFW/DARK CONTENT OR ARE UNDER THE AGE OF 18 PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT WITH MY BLOG. MUAH.

Warnings: LOTS of angst, mentions of shooting, stabbing, cleaning wounds, and blood. proceed with caution.

Word count: 2,606

“Four is way too early to be here.”

Your coworker Jasmine laughs as the two of you finish doing the dishes together; you nod your head in agreement as you wipe your wet hands onto your apron. The shifts are always like this, though—you, Jasmine, and Fred, the cook.

“Alright, well, that’s enough for me.”

You yell from the break room as you pull off the apron around your waist and hang it onto the hooks by the door. It’s nights like this where you think about Leon. He’s been gone for almost two weeks now, your eyes wandering over his closed windows whenever you’re outside.

The kiss runs through your head every single day,

the way his lips were so soft even though they looked chapped, his fingers gripping your cheeks so gently, yet it felt like he didn’t want to let you go. The long honk pulled you from your thoughts, looking up to see the green light. You put your hand out the window as an apology before speeding through the street, happy to see you were finally on your road. You are the only person on the whole street with a nice lawn. You pull into your driveway, sighing as you tug the keys from your car before you step out and lock it. Usually, in your routine, you start watering your lawn. But your heart pounds in your chest at the sight of Leon’s front door wide open, the hinges broken and the sides of wood cracked and torn. Leon would’ve called you dumb, running towards his house at the sounds of grunting and loud thumps.

Then silence.

The moment you walk into his house it’s just quiet. There’s a bottle of whiskey on the ground shattered to pieces. Leon’s house was huge, the long hallway leading to two other hallways and multiple rooms. You clutch at your purse in fear as your shoes click against his wooden floors. Where did he go? His car is in the driveway.. the doors open.. What if somebody killed him? What if he’s hurt? Your throat goes dry at the thought. Even though you guys haven’t spoken for two weeks, you still couldn’t help but care.

“Leon?”

You’re stupid. You’re so stupid. Your heart was beating so fast it was blocking your capability to hear a scream trying to come from your mouth as a large hand smacked over your mouth. A cheek pressed against the side of your hair as you got dragged into a room, the door shutting. The only sound in the room was your heavy breathing against this hand.

—————————————————-

Leon always stays up, at least till you get home. He knows your shift ends soon, his arms pressing into the cool counters in his kitchen as he pours the whiskey into his cup. Staring down at the dark liquid. The sound of tires rolling makes his head snap up, thinking you were finally home but a black truck rolls just in front of his yard, parking against his curb.

“Son of a bitch…”

His footsteps are fast and heavy. His hand reached down to pull at the small door under his couch, tugging at the duffel bag and grabbing the pistol, checking to see if he had put bullets in the mag. There hasn’t been an incident like this in a long time, he was just thankful you weren’t home. His arms raise as he aims at the door.

But everything happened too fast, coming in from almost every direction, and he could only fire so much. A loud grunt left his lips as one of the much bigger men punched him across the face; Leon’s lip instantly started bleeding as he kneeled over, wiping at his lip as he stumbled through his spare bedroom door. The house was pitch black which made the whole interaction so much more fun, didn’t it? The noises of multiple footsteps running up his steps made him sigh in relief as he pressed his forehead to his door.

“Leon?”

Hearing you call out his name caused every muscle in his body to contract, swinging the door open to see you stepping down the hallway, still in your work uniform. He sees you gasp at the body on the floor, and being the idiot you were, you bend over to check his pulse and see if this stranger is okay.

He read your body language so well, seeing you start to panic as you stand up again, going to call out for him again. He stepped forward, his large hand clamping over your mouth as he dragged you towards the spare bedroom. Idiot. Leon’s never felt himself shake like this, his strength fighting against yours before he shoved you into the wall as quietly as he could, his hand still pressed over your mouth as you panicked against him.

“Are you fucking insane?”

Leon’s tongue is sharp, your eyebrows frowning in concern as you mumble against his hand, reaching up to touch his bleeding lip. Leon grumbles as he turns his head away from you, his hand tightening before he turns back at you.

“Just- don’t talk. Stay silent. Do I make myself clear?”

You’ve never seen this side of Leon. You’ve seen him petty, bitchy even, but never stern. Your head nodded at him before he rested his forehead against the side of your face, pulling his hand off.

He was injured; his cheek was obviously bruised and his arm was cut. He was still in his pajamas, his gray t-shirt lose on him as he caught his breath leaning against the wall. He immediately stands up straight at the sound of shuffling down the stairs.

“He’s gone, we can’t wait, he probably already called in backup.. Let’s leave.”

Leon stood behind you, staring at the door, his finger ghosting over the trigger as he listened to the large group of men shuffles out of his house. The two of you stand there in silence, the sun starting to rise through his curtains as he takes a deep breath, pointing to the bed.

“Sit down and just- stay here. Do not move.”

Leon watched as you walked to the bed, sitting down as your eyes retraced his hurt frame. Leon pressed his ear against the door before he cracked it open and stepped out the door.

You sit in your own silence for what feels like forever, biting at your nails nervously as you listen to the house's silence. A loud thump made you spring to your feet, pushing the door open as you run to the the living room.

You frown as you see Leon holding onto the couch, his chest heaving as he grabs at his ribs.

“Leon..”

For once, he lets his guard down, feeling your hands grab at his shoulders. He immediately reaches for you, allowing you to help him up. He’s much heavier, but that’s too much to think about now. Your hands wrap around his waist as he grips your shoulder as you walk him carefully down the steps, your hand grabbing his as he groans with every step.

When you do reach your house, he’s trying to push you off. Your hands grip him tighter as you drag him to his bathroom.

“Enough, Leon.”

To your surprise, he sits there, your shaking hands digging through your cabinet for your first aid kit. Just stay calm. Stay calm for his sake. You had so many questions, but cleaning him up was the primary importance. You stand up, leaning against your sink as you close your eyes to think for a second.

“Just listen-“

“Shut up, I'm thinking.”

Leon sits quietly, just looking at you, your hands gripping at the sink as you reach past him, turning on the shower. Your hands wiping against your work pants as you grab Leon’s arms, helping him up. It wasn’t in a sexual manner, though you knew Leon probably wasn’t thinking about anything other than the burning pain in his ribs. Your hands tug at his shirt, your eyes growing wide at seeing his bruised ribs. Your fingers gently graze over the patch of bruised skin already forming, Leon groaning as he leans his head on your shoulder.

“It’s okay.. You’re going to be fine Leon.”

You lean him carefully against the sink as you tug down his pajama pants, looking up at the ceiling as you do so.

“C'mon, slow steps..”

You drag Leon by his shoulders as you step him into the shower, your fingers checking the temperature as he stands against the wall. You lean forward, carefully rubbing the water into his arm so the blood can somewhat go away and make cleaning easier.

Leon just watched. Your black long sleeve gets wet as you wash at his skin. He’s a grown man, he shouldn’t be letting you take care of him, not like this.

“Off me..”

Leon groaned as his eyes squeezed shut. He felt the gentle touch of your fingers vanish as you stepped back from the shower. Just don’t bother him. You're silent as you pick up his pajamas, shutting the bathroom door. When he’s in the shower, you run across the lawn, Leon’s blood still all over you as you walk through the destroyed house. When you find his room you dig through his drawer, just grabbing as many clothes as you can.

This is when you realize Leon Kennedy was more than just your neighbor. You didn’t even notice the blood staining your hands. You shook your head as you ran back to your house, locking the front door as you heard the shower stop. You stand outside the shut door, your knuckles brushing against it before you knock quietly.

“Leon? I have some clothes-“

The door swings open, all your first aid materials spread out on the counter as Leon stands dripping wet from the shower, his hair soaked.

“I don’t know what the fuck I'm doing.”

“I noticed..”

You laugh softly as you walk into the bathroom, grabbing the towel that hung from your shower. Leon sits on the toilet again. He couldn’t help but take in the smell of your shampoo from the towel as you rubbed the fabric into his hair and carefully down his arms. You lay the towel carefully onto his lap, covering him hoping to make him more comfortable as you lean down, grabbing the bandages from your counter. You look up at him as you reach behind him.

“It may hurt but lift your arms a bit.”

Leon listens- shockingly. You wrap the bandage around his ribs, pressing the small sticker into the bandage to make it stick. Your hands press at his elbows to lower his arms as you stand up, grabbing the alcohol.

As you clean the cut in his arm, you think about the first night you guys met. The dinner you cooked him, and the way he left.

Leon thought about it too, staring down at the ground as you wrapped bandages around his bicep, just like you did around his ribs.

“Look at me.”

Your voice is so smooth, so calming. He hated to admit you were an angel, and he needed you every single day so badly. And you somehow knew he did every time. Leon looks up at you, your cheeks flushed from moving around so much.

You grab the wet washcloth, straining it into the sink as you lean over, patting the cloth into his lip. Your thumb brushes against the bruise on his cheek. Your other hand reaches up, brushing his hair back as you pull yourself back, grabbing the black shirt you got from his house.

“You went back to the house? You’re so stupid-“

You shake your head at Leon’s words as you lift his arms for him, tugging his shirt onto him before you hand him the sweatpants. You turn yourself to the wall, listening to him tug his sweatpants up as he sighs in pain.

Leon finally gets a look at you, covered in his blood, your hair a mess and your face still flushed. Leon stumbles a bit but manages to stand up. Unlike him, but he follows you like a stray puppy, watching you flick on the bedroom light as you pull the comforter back. It was odd to him to see your room in person. The photos of you and your coworkers all over the wall by your vanity.

“Lay down, I'll get you medicine.”

Leon watches as you walk past him. This was what he was afraid of. Exposing you to things like this, literally covered in his blood and taking care of him. It wasn’t what he deserved.

“I think I'm just going to go home.. It’s early and you work-“

“Leon. Please.”

Your voice was strained, your body stopping in the middle of the hallway as you took in a deep breath.

“Just, lay down.”

Leon’s eyes rolled in frustration as he sat himself down on the bed, groaning as his legs pressed against the soft mattress. The whole room smelled like you, his fingers grazing over your silk pillows, a slight smirk ghosting over his face as he saw the teddy bear on your bed. You’re back fast, faster than he would like because he would’ve loved to admire your space more. You hand him the glass of water and the white medicine.

“Hydrocodone.”

You speak as you hand it to him, his eyebrows raising.

“How do you have hydrocodone..”

“Have you always talked this much?”

Leon laughs as his hand pressed against his ribs, nodding his head as he takes the medication.

“I deserve that.”

You just stare at his hunched-over frame, the slight stubble gracefully growing on his face. How did this happen? If you told yourself a month ago that Leon would be in your bed, you would laugh.

“I’ll be on the couch. Call my name if you need me.”

Leon feels an unfamiliar warmth in his chest as he watches you turn from him. His chest rattled as he stood up, the pain radiating through his body at the sudden movement, causing his head to snap back at the man in confusion.

He just stares at you, your eyes watching him as your chest rises and falls with your tiny breaths. Leon shrugs as he looks down at the bed, his face twisting in confusion as his mouth opens to speak

“Can you just stay? Just till the sun rises fully?”

You look at him in shock before you nod your head slowly, walking to the other side of the bed and laying yourself down. The bed dips as Leon lays himself down looking up at the ceiling. His arm moves to the center of the bed, the rough padding of his fingers brushing against the back of your hand. Your fingers lift slightly as your fingers intertwine with his. The bed shifts as he moves in closer, your arm lifting as he lays his head against your chest, your arm laying against his back as you pat the back of his head, the two of you soaking in the comfortable silence.

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