God I Love Him So Much - Blog Posts

Turns out you can smile. A real one, even. And more than once.

he thinks he’s so cool (he’s struggling)

I love Cheetor Transformers Cyberverse send post

There is not a single day that I don't think about this deliver.

simon riley who get's hurt too easily, comes from each mission with at least couple bruises, from banging some door, falling too rough, fighting in close combat with enemy, all of this leave it's mark on his pale, tender skin, marring him bluish purple, with bandages and plasters that hide blooming hematomas and tiny cuts.

he doesn't tells you about his wounds, knows you would fuss over him, thinks that it's the way they should be and that they'll heal by themselves, even through he barely can pull his body up each morning, aching, pain dulling his sleepy senses, and simon get's unlucky by meeting your worried, sleepy gaze as you look at his scarred, battered body.

simon's hoarse groans is what makes you flutter your eyes open at the early morning, and instead of sleeping face of your boyfriend, you see the wounded expanse of his half turned aside body, lighten up by the pale rays of sun, violet blooms over the yellow and blue, could be as pretty as flowers, but it's what hurts him.

you want to ask him why he didn't tell, why he suffered in silence from the time he came back home, but you see his gaze, apologetic, like one of a guilty dog, blonde eyelashes framing his eyes, tawny under the sunlight, softened at the edges with unspoken regret, so instead of scolding him like a little boy, you brush your feet along the carpet, rising to fetch a first aid kit.

simon keeps still when you treat him, pliant, looking you in the eyes, in search of your gaze, all the while you touch each of his arms, his chest and stomach, changing the bandages and cleaning each cut and bruise, tenderly, your fingers feather over his body, as he can't stop tilting, craning his neck, getting into your way as if purposefully.

you push his head away, meeting his eyes sternly, huffing, but seeing how the furrow he held to his brows all this time dissipates, a silent exhale leaving his chapped lips when your irises meet in an exchanging gaze, you know he tried to make sure you didn't cried, didn't troubled your mind because he got wounded, because it's pains him to think his actions hurt you.

simon nuzzles his head against your chest, your hands, busy with treating him, now squeezed by his chest, the one that rumbles with a disgruntled growl as you try to free them, until they don't wrap around his body, brushing, rubbing against his naked back, over the rippling muscles, as he squeezes you tighter, listening to your soothing, comforting whispers.

main masterlist. quidelines.

missing him </3

reference screenshot below !!