#i just noticed his hand and how carefully he's holding him up omg | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gurugirl · 9 months

Note

STOPPPPP IT THE SHORTS ARE SO SHORT! WTF THE TIGER IS SHOWING! OMG Y/N WOULD GO CRAZYYYYYYY OVER IT. okok so maybe y/n gets jealous that Harry was wearing such short shorts in public that she ends up getting moody and Harry makes it up to her by letting her ride his thigh and fucks her saying stuff like “y’know this cock belongs to you darling” and stuff 😩😩

HAPPY FRIDAY YOU GUYS!!!

PLEASE I've been looking at these pics all day. What is this man thinking????????? I cannot handle him. He's such a tease. And I wrote this way too fast. Sorry if it sucks but this picture deserves a smut piece written about it. He's too fucking hot.

1.6k words

warning: mostly plotless smut, not proofread whatsoever

Y/n was used to Harry being ogled. Always the hottest guy in the room with the most charisma and charm. Everyone flocked to him and everyone's eyes always followed him. He was magnetic. And he knew it too.

As much as she realized she had nothing to worry about she still got jealous of the attention he constantly got. He didn't even need to try. He could be wearing a backwards baseball cap and loose jeans with a t-shirt and people would still be after her man.

And today, their little break away from the business of life led them to a relaxing little outing in the Italian sun. Before they'd even left the villa she eyed his short green trunks and how his fit torso was in full view, the long sleeved shirt draped over his shoulders, totally unbuttoned.

Biting her tongue, she figured she was being silly wishing he'd cover up a bit. She certainly wouldn't take well to him telling her to cover up, not that he'd ever.

But once they were on the beach and about to board their private yacht she did notice women and men alike watching him. His bronzed chiseled abs and pecs peeking out from the shirt, and of course he'd tucked his shorts up a bit to protect the mesh lining from chafing this inner thighs (he always did that because he said his package was too large to sit comfortably in the lining and it gave him a little extra support). His strong thighs on full view holding his tall frame upright as he carried both of their bags.

"Come on," he held his hand out to her as he helped her up into the boat safely.

He could tell she was a little pouty. He knew her too well. Knew he was being eye fucked by half the beach as they walked to the yacht they'd rented for the afternoon.

"What's wrong, love?" He grinned as he pulled at the strap of her bathing suit teasingly.

"Nothing. Just looking forward to getting out onto the ocean."

Harry crowded her space, stepping in front of her so she couldn't look at anything but him, "Yeah? Is that it? You seem to have been awfully quiet all morning. Nothing else you want to talk about?"

She looked up at him and the smirk he wore told her that he knew just what she was pouting about. But she just shook her head and crossed her arms, "Nope."

The low chuckle that fell from his chest as he pushed her arms down and grasped her wrists made her cheeks warm up, "Liar. You're jealous."

Harry kind of liked that she got jealous. Because in all truth, he'd get jealous when anyone would look at her just the same.

"Am not."

Harry walked her backward as the driver of the yacht began to move the boat out to sea, "Let's go down into the suite for a bit. Need to show you something," he gestured toward the door that lead to the stairs to get to the lower level.

She huffed as she carefully stepped down into the furnished room. It was small but there was a counter with a TV above it, a mini bar with fridge, a bathroom, a sitting area and a bed in the center.

Harry closed and locked the door before grasping Y/n's arms and pushing her toward the bed, pressing his chest into her back and speaking into her ear in a dark baritone, "Let's figure out what's got you so moody. Maybe I can help."

She tried to keep her composure but his voice and his skin and his hands always melted her poise.

When he felt her relax into his hold he smiled and kissed the back of her neck, bringing her into the bed with him, "There we go."

Y/n climbed into the middle of the bed and sat on her bottom as Harry spread out next to her, "Hop on. Let's talk."

She looked down at his lap and back into his eyes. She knew his plan. It always worked.

Biting the inside of her cheek she quietly moved to straddle his lap but he stopped her from fully spanning his thighs with hers, "Just sit on the tiger for a minute."

She looked up at him like he was crazy but settled herself right over his thigh, the crotch of her swimsuit right on top of the inked tiger on his strong thigh.

"Good girl. See that," he looked down to how she was sitting on him, "No one else gets to do that. Just cause they can see it doesn't mean they can fuck themselves on me like this. Know you like that, don't you?"

She nodded bit her bottom lip.

"That's right." Harry put his hands at her hips and pulled her up and then pushed her back a bit, "Let's see you do it. Show me who this belongs to."

Once Harry got her momentum going she rocked over his taut, muscular thigh gently. Harry kissed her softly and moaned, "See? What they don't know is that this tiger gets his face fucked by the prettiest little pussy. Gets to have your scent all over it. Cause you own it. Don't you, love?"

"Yes." She squeaked pathetically.

She was already so turned on and it wasn't because of the way she was rubbing her cloth-covered clit over his thigh. It was the way he was speaking to her. She could feel herself getting wet slowly and the faster she rocked she noticed Harry's large bulge under his short green trunks.

"Getting him coated, love. Good job, honey. You need a little more? Want to come?"

"Y- yes. I do, Harry..." She lowered her hand from his shoulder to cup his thickened cock, "want this."

"Mmm... want my cock? Want to fuck yourself on my cock? Fuck what's yours?"

She nodded and the look in his eyes turned quickly from soft green to dark and lusty, "Take your bottoms off right now."

She quickly got up to her knees and pulled her swim bottoms down her legs as Harry pulled his green trunks off, his cock bobbing heavily as he leaned his back into the headboard.

She climbed after him, desperate to have him inside of her and she whined as she grasped him and placed his hot, thick crown at her entrance. She paused as she looked him in the eyes but Harry needed her just as much. He put his hands at her waist and pushed her down onto him, groaning lowly at the relief.

"Fuck. This cock is all yours, Y/n. Every bit of me is all yours, darling."

She keened as she felt him inside her guts so deep it ached.

Slowly she began rolling her hips back and forth, grinding her pussy down over him, keeping her clit satisfyingly smeared against his pelivs.

"It's mine," she whined as she put her hands on his shoulders and rocked quickly, the sound of her wet pussy sucking his cock in deep sounded between them.

"Yes it is. Fuck it like you mean it, Y/n. Want to see you own it. Need you to milk me dry."

Y/n gasped when Harry put his hands under her thighs and helped her ride him properly. It was always a task to fuck him this way but so worth the view and the orgasm.

She wanted to make him come so hard. Make him dizzy and mushy and drain his balls of everything he had. She wanted his come inside of her where it belonged. Because it was hers. No one could have Harry in this way. He was her man.

"Yes, baby. Riding me so good. Fuck yourself on me deep, honey. Make yourself come on me baby. Take what's yours, Y/n."

Her chest was getting hot and her thighs were burning as their wet skin slopped together each time she dropped down onto his cock, tucking him deep inside of her so his balls were up against her ass.

Looking down between their bodies it was a sticky, creamy mess. The trimmed hair at the base of Harry's shaft was white with cream and his girthy cock was stretching her out so beautifully.

"Harry! Oh my god. I'm gonna come!"

"Yeah?" Harry widened his thighs and bent his knees the slightest bit so he could take her over the edge and fuck into her so deep she could feel his come in her womb. The moment he began to move his hips into her she yelped and gasped and her fingers dug into his shoulders sharply, "Who's cock is this, baby? Tell me who it belongs to, honey," his words were grunted.

"It's mine! You're mine, Harry!" Her world was spinning as she jolted up each time he punched into her from his position below. His fingers dug into her ass and he clenched his teeth as he began to throb.

"S'right. This cock is yours. I'm yours, Y/n. Fucking gonna make me come aren't you, baby?"

She nodded and then her mouth dropped open and she grew silent as her orgasm washed over her body. Her ears rang as she pulsed over his cock.

Harry choked out a loud moan and filled her to the brim with himself as he stilled his hips and his thigh trembled at the exertion.

Gasps and soft inhaled breaths were stifled when Y/n pushed her lips to his and pressed her chest into his tightly, her arms wrapping around him.

Harry grunted a laugh and pinched her bottom and she jumped.

"Told you I could help. All better now?" Harry cooed at his sweet girl.

Pulling back to look at him she smiled, "All better now."

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moonstruckme · 4 months

Note

whimsical muggle reader who loves taking note of strange occurrences (i swear my shoes weren't here! like luna basically lol) and marauder bf who can't tell her yet about magic but loves doing some tricks for her to find. (you can pick which marauder! i was gonna go remus but i'm biased lol)

Omg I had so much fun with this, thank you for requesting!

Sirius Black x whimsical!reader ♡ 657 words

“You’re such an old woman, Moony,” Sirius says. “Is that a gray hair I see?”

“Your fault,” Remus replies mildly.

“We’re not all obligated to go clubbing whenever the fancy strikes you,” James argues on Remus’ behalf. “I’ve got a match tomorrow, and our poor Moony’s head is hurting him. Give us a rest.”

“No rest!” Sirius cries, standing from the couch as if he’s addressing a weary army rather than two reluctant men. “Rest is for the elderly and geriatric.” He looks at you hopefully. “You want to go out, don’t you darling?”

“I’m not partial to clubs,” you reply, but your attention is already elsewhere. “Remus, if you have a headache, you should have Sirius make you some of his tea. He made me some when my head hurt last week and it set me right as rain.” You glance at your boyfriend, considering you with peculiar smugness. “And the same happened when I had the hiccups a few days ago. He has a remedy for everything.”

James cocks an eyebrow. “Does he?”

You hum in prideful affirmation, but Sirius seems almost sheepish as he sits back down on the couch, tucking you against his side. “I’ve always been good at brewing,” he says to James with a shrug.

“You should make him your tea,” you urge softly.

Sirius kisses the side of your head. “Moony’s headaches are a bit tougher than yours, angel,” he says, adding at your troubled look, “but I’ll make him some later if he likes.”

“Hey,” James says brightly, “what if we go to the pub on fifth? It’s usually quiet in there. We’ll just stay an hour or so.”

You’ve been dating Sirius long enough to know how this goes with his friends—one hour will turn into four before any of them notice—but nod complaisantly at the hum of assent that goes up from the other boys.

“Let’s go.” Sirius hops back up before anyone can change their minds. He grabs your coat from the hook by the door, holding it out for you.

“Oh.” Your mood sinks slightly as you remember your coat. “I should probably go get another from my room. I tore that one yesterday, remember?”

“I fixed it for you.”

Sirius gives it a shake, signaling for you to take it from him. You do, looking at him in awe.

“Really, Siri? That’s so nice of you.” You feel along the hem of your jacket in search of the split you’d made the day before. You can’t find it, nor any of the smaller blemishes the garment had acquired after years of wear. “How did you do this?”

“I sewed it,” he says breezily, shrugging on his own well-loved leather coat.

You run your fingers over where you could swear the tear had been. “There’s not even a line or anything.”

Remus shoots him a look you can’t decipher, and Sirius gives you a somewhat thin-lipped smile. “What can I say? I’m magic with a needle and thread. Put your coat on, baby.”

You realize then that all three boys are already waiting for you at the door.

“Oh, sorry.” You carefully pull on your newly impeccable jacket, following them outside. “Thank you, Siri.”

“Anytime,” he vows, hand finding its way into your back pocket as James leads you all to the pub.

“You’re so good at fixing things,” you murmur, almost to yourself. “My coat, and when you glued my mug back together so well, and when my peperomia came back to life.”

Sirius chuckles. “It didn’t come back to life, angel.”

“It was dying,” you reason. “I couldn’t get it to stop wilting, but then all of a sudden it perked up.”

“You must’ve nursed it back to health,” he replies, and his tone is blasé but the smile he shoots you is oddly pleased. He gives your ass a playful squeeze. “Stranger things have happened, sweet thing.”

Around Sirius, they certainly have.

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finelinevogue · 9 months

Text

love in photos

summary - a sum up of love on tour with a few instagram posts

word count - 1k

pairing - boyfriend!harry x reader

liked by annetwist and 727,937 others

yourinstagram goodbye love on tour, you will always be famous <3🤍

view all 34,767 comments

harryfan1 THESE PHOTO YN HOW ARE YOU ALIVE

harryfan2 can’t believe harry spotted you in the crowd twice🙄

yourinstagram @/harryfan2 ik it’s almost like he loves me or something?!

harrystyles liked this comment

harryfan3 yn. respectfully. pls stop. i am now in tears.

jeffezoff Post some more!

harryfan4 i remember him wanting to hug you so bad yn omg🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

•••••••••••••••••

“Babe…” Harry laughed at you crying.

“What?” You laughed back through your tears.

Harry moved from the end of the couch he was currently sat on and further over to you. He carefully picked you up and sat you on his lap, tucking the plush blanket back over you both.

You held your phone in your hand, running your finger through the photos from Love On Tour.

The tears stemmed from reminiscing of a tour that ended only five days ago. You couldn’t help yourself though. Love On Tour had brought you some of the happiest years and memories of your life and it was just sad it was now all over.

“C’mon, love. You know I’m going to cry if you keep crying.” Harry’s facial hair tickled your cheek with how close you were sitting.

You made sure Harry could see your phone screen as you continued to scroll.

“I know, but, i’m just emotionally reflecting.”

Harry budged your finger out of the way and paused to stop on a photo. He clicked on it and it immediately made you both laugh.

It was a photo of Harry creeping you behind you and scaring you. Your face is one of pure terror and Harry looks like he’s ready to pounce.

“You were such a twat for that.” You chuckled, tapping the screen and holding to make it a live photo.

Harry could be heard yelling and then you let out an ear piercing scream. So many people turned to look at you, probably because you sounded in pain. Then you collapsed to the floor with your head in your hands.

“It was Harryween though.” Harry justified.

You shook your head and continued to scroll. A few of the photos were ones you had screenshotted off your secret Twitter account. Fans constantly snuck to take photos of you and Harry, some of which actually turned out very cute sometimes.

You clicked on one of you and Harry watching Madi Diaz as the opener for Harry, back on his US leg of the tour.

Harry was stood behind you with his arms draped over your shoulders. Your hands held onto his and you both swayed to the music playing. Harry had his baseball cap on, but it didn’t stop fans noticing him.

“That’s a sweet photo.” Harry said, kissing your cheek.

“Mhm. Thank your fans for that one.”

“I always loved watching the opening acts with you.”

“Yeah? Why?” You turned your head to face his.

Harry couldn’t choose where to look, because of how much he loved everything about you. He watched your eyes follow his as they ran between your freckles and lips to your eyes and dimples.

“You always calmed me. Calmed the nerves, before a show. Was always more at peace after spending a few moments with just you.”

You smiled, not needing to say anything more, before leaning up and kissing his soft lips. He had been waiting for you to do so and cupped your cheek gently to guide you the way he wanted to kiss you.

Your cheeks flushed at how much you enjoyed kissing him, but you had to pull away before anything got too heated. Tonight you just wanted calm.

After getting back to your photos, you and Harry decided it might be fun to feed the fans and just post lots of content from tour - especially backstage.

liked by jeffezoff and 977,877 others

yourinstagram i’ve decided love on tour isn’t over until i stop posting hslot content. so here is a tiny instagram dump of some backstage shenanigans. we have h putting on his rings. a couple photos of me and h (tehe). and a photo of h that he sent me that i thought you might all like. 🫶✨🌙

view all 59,767 comments

harryfan1 NO YOU DIDN’T OMG QUEEN YN

harryfan2 this is why yn is harrys best girlfriend

harrystyles You’re trouble, you.

yourinstagram @/harrystyles why are you using punctuation like that?

harryfan3 i adore their relationship so much omg

harryfan4 the drought is un-droughting thanks to our saviour miss yn

••••••••••

“BABE!” Harry shouted.

“Yes?” You said sheepishly, hiding under the bed sheets as Harry stormed into the room with a smirk on his face.

He shook his head before, rising to stand on the mattress and loom over you.

“You are…”

“Amazing? Perfect? Beautiful?” You filled in the blanks for him, trying to get out of this silly situation.

“Well, obviously.” Harry rolled his eyes and mumbled quietly under his breath. “That photo is trending worldwide.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Lifting the sheets higher over your head with a giggle.

In reality you knew exactly what photo he was on about because you had only posted it twenty minutes ago. It was impressive it was already worldwide trending.

A shirtless photo of Harry was just what the world needed during this time of crisis - a.k.a. the post tour blues.

“Oh, no? Really?” He acted along.

“Maybe you could recreate it?”

“Oh, you’d love that wouldn’t you.”

Harry knelt down on the mattress and then proceeded to flop on top of you. You made a noise as he did and laughed as you struggled to regain the breath he had just winded out of you.

“Harrryy..” You laughed in complaint.

“That’s the last time I send you a shirtless picture.”

“No!”

liked by gemmastyles and 797,877 others

yourinstagram here’s another daily hslot dump. unfortunately this one does not contain any shirtless photos of harry :(

view all 29,837 comments

harryfan1 SHES SO REAL

harryfan2 this is everything i want this so bad

annetwist Lovely photos❤️

harris_reed My baby angels

harrystyles I love you🩷

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfic #ask finelinevogue #harry blurb #finelinevogue #harry styles concept #harry oneshot #harry styles blurbs #harry styles fic rec #harry styles boyfriend fic #harry styles love on tour #love on tour blurbs

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hwasoup · 3 months

Text

Tale As Old As Time

Playlist !!

songs to listen along with: the beast, etc..

art credit goes to Marbipa

OMG guys, I literally hat to let this one sit and marinate for a while even though I typed it out like so long ago. AND I JUST REALIZED I FORGOT TO ADD THE SONGS FOR LAST CHAPTER, DW I DID THOUGH. Ugh and I literally also just found out that i had a textbook for a class, i didn't deep dive into the syllabus. AHHHHH regardless I hope you guys enjoyyy !! our favorite characters have finally met!!

like always tell me if you’d like to be tagged !!

prev | ch.4

warnings: wrongful incarceration, bargaining, yelling, really bad british slang, mexican spanish (im sorry y’all im venezuelan ☠️)

word count: 3.3k

Chapter 3: The Beast

After going through the thick woods, trusting Felipe to take her to where she needs to go…

Y/N makes it deep and far in the woods and stops Felipe from galloping when she spots her father’s wagon. She looks at all of the scattered food, items, and even his invention. In worry, she clutches on Felipe’s reins tightly and directs him to keep on going. After riding Felipe some time, the air gets thicker and fog covers the entirety of the forest. She then notices Felipe starting to trot and make his way down a gravel path. She looks around the dead trees and notices the large gates and the grand castle in front of her. “What is this place…” she says nervously. Felipe then starts nickering and anxiously moving as he didn’t want to go inside the gates. Y/N had to get off to comfort the horse and calm him down. After a few moments, she turns around and peeks inside the gate to see her father’s hat. She opens them and she reaches for the hat and holds it tightly in her hands, her worry now increasing for him. “Come on Felipe, we have to go inside”

She mounts the horse once more and goes inside the gate, going through the garden until she makes it to the steps of the castle. Y/N then gets off Felipe and carefully goes up the stairs, grabbing a large stick from the stairs as a weapon incase if she needs to defend herself. She then makes it to the top and carefully opens the door. Peering inside she walks in hesitantly, as she looks around.

“Look Jess…it's a pretty girl”

“I can see that Miles, I lost my hands.. Not my eyes”

Miles then peeks at Jess and whispers “but what if she’s the one who’ll break the spell ?” Y/N turns around confused at the sound of whispering “Who said that ?” She looks around to see nobody except for a candelabra and a clock. She quietly approaches the two of them looking at the inanimate figures confused at what she heard. Her thoughts however were shunned as she could hear her father’s cough from a distance. In her desperateness to find him, she takes the candelabra and goes to look for him. Jess looks at Miles being taken and she simply sighs.

Y/N follows the sound of coughing to a set of stairs, as she gets closer she then peers into a hall that goes up a tower. She anxiously walks up the stairs as she yells out “PAPA ??” She walks up the stairs faster as the coughing gets louder “ERES TU PAPA ??” Y/N then gets to the top of the tower and gasps seeing her beloved father inside a dungeon. She throws the stick to one side and places the candelabra on a nearby shelf and places it there. Y/N then gets on her knees as she looks at her father in relief after searching for him “Oh papa, que paso?? what happened to you, your hands are ice cold..” she says holding him tightly through the metal bars. Mauricio looks at her in awe and simply says “how did you even find me ?”

“That doesn’t matter, we need to get you home !”

“Y/N please…listen to me it’s not safe here, you must leave at once! This castle is alive !” he says in a whisper, tightly holding onto Y/N’s hands. Y/N looked at him confused until she heard a deep growl echoing in the distance. She grabs her stick once more from the floor and looks around the dungeon. She firmly grips onto the piece of thick wood, as she gains the courage to look around and protect herself and her father. “Who’s there, WHO ARE YOU ?”

“Who Are YOU?”

The voice of a man echoes throughout the dungeon, his silhouette appearing in the distance. “I’ve come for my father..” Y/N says with determination in her voice. The sound of someone coming down the stairs is heard in the dark dungeon. “Your Father….is a thief”. Enraged, Y/N yelled out “LIAR!” The silhouette has now fully come down the stairs and standing before her, his silhouette still only seen “He stole a rose..” Y/N raises an eyebrow appalled at his words “I asked for the rose, punish me not him !” Mauricio looks at his daughter and shakes his head “No, Y/N don’t… he means forever, apparently that’s what happens around here cuando uno elige una bendita rosa”

Y/N even more appalled turned to her father and back to the silhouette “A life sentence for a flower ?” A loud roar is heard as it approaches her even more, she steps back a little but not entirely to stand her ground despite the small shivers down her leg. “I received eternal damnation for one” the figure said, the growl in his voice becoming deeper. “Then take me instead” The figure growls and looks away and angrily says “YOU-” his expression then softly changes as he was shocked at how willing she was. “Tú....Tú tomarías su lugar?”

Y/N bites her lip and nods a whimper coming from her lips releases in her voice “If I did…would you let him go ?” The silhouette’s voice became a bit softer but still gruff in its dominant position “Yes, but you must promise to stay here forever” he says. Y/N looks down and blinks thinking of what to do next, she notices there’s a light right between them, separating the two from fully seeing each other. “Come into the light” she demands. The silhouette becomes smaller as she starts to see two large paws, she then looks up to see not a man but a beast with the horns of a goat, a thick mane that covered his entire body and crimson red eyes that peered into hers. Y/N covers her mouth in shock and turns to her father dropping the stick yet again to hold his hands. “No, Y/N to te puedo permitir que hagas esto”

Y/N kisses her father’s hands and approaches the Beast, her voice faltering to a whisper “you have my word..” The Beast then growls and opens the door dragging Mauricio out and pushing Y/N in, not even letting the two share a proper departure. He then drags Mauricio all the way out of the castle and throws him inside a carriage “Take him to the village” Mauricio cries out to him “SPARE MY DAUGHTER PLEASE!” The Beast ignores him and growls as he closes the carriage door “She’s no longer your concern…” Mauricio cries out to him to let him out, but The Beast was already walking back inside his castle.

After a moment, The Beast is seen walking back inside the castle on all fours with an annoyed expression on his face. Miles had already hopped down halfway to meet him. “So, Uh Sir ?”

“WHAT” the Beast growled out. Miles cowered a bit but then adjusted himself “soo uh since the girl is going to stay with us for quite some time, erm umm” he rubs his other two candles together “I was thinking that y’know you wanted too uhh, bring her to a more comfortable room” he says with a sheepish smile. The Beast growls at him and keeps walking up the stairs ignoring what he said. “Or not” Miles says.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Up in the tower after a week ….

Y/N wept as she whispered comforting words to herself. She thought about all of those times with her father, how he told her that home is where the heart is. But she wasn’t home, she was lonely and locked away. Her face drained as she thought of making the tiny dungeon her home, tears kept on spilling out as she thought about her poor father, all alone with nobody to lean onto in her terrible village.

She then sees a shadow loom over her and notices its The Beast. “You didn’t even let me say goodbye..I’ll never see him again..” her tears taint her cheeks that have been stained from the grime of the dungeon. “I-I’l never..see h-him again..” she says in between sobs. The Beast then looks at Y/N and a bit of guilt plagues his mind. He scratches his head and then considers what Miles told him earlier.. “I’ll show you to your room..” he says softly as he walks out the dungeon.

“My room? But I thought -”

“You, YOU wanna stay in the tower ?”

“No..” she says softly.

“Then follow me..” The Beast says.

The Beast then guides her out of the tower and back into the castle, taking Miles with him along the way so that he could light up the hallways. As Y/N is escorted, she looks around the castle and its statues and notices how dark and lonely the place seemed to be. Her eyes stare fearfully at a statue of a hideous gargoyle and speeds up to catch up with The Beast.

The Beast heard her gasp and looked behind to see a single tear falling down her cheek, he looked back in his direction as he felt a bit more guiltier. “You should say something to her y’know” Miles says softly. The Beast nodded and turned to her “I..uhh…I hope you like it here” he looked back at Miles to see if it was ok. Miles then looks at him encouraging him to say a bit more. “The castle is your home now, so you can go anywhere you would like…except the west wing.” Y/N’s curiosity perks up and she asks “what’s in the west wing ?” He growled out “IT'S FORBIDDEN”. His voice echoed out into the empty halls of the castle. He then takes her to a suite and opens the door for her. “If you need anything…my servants will attend you.” Y/N walks in and looks around the room. She then turns back to him and softly asks “but what’s your name ?” The Beast looks down as he didn’t want to remember his name, as he isn’t human or anything similar to his name. “It’s Miguel..”

Y/N nods as she looks back to the room and looks around. Miles then in a corner of Miguel’s viewpoint whispers “dinner, go invite her to dinner” Miguel nods and he tries to find the best way to speak to her “YOU WILL JOIN ME FOR DINNER…Th-THAT”S NOT A REQUEST” he says gruffly as he slammed the door. Y/N in shock of his words looked back at the closed door and back to the room. Spotting the bed she runs towards it and throws herself onto the pillows and cries her heart out. She hasn’t even realized that it has already started snowing outside signifying the start of winter.

About a couple of hours later, There was a soft knocking on the door. Y/N who was too busy crying hears it and softly says “who is it ?” She then hears a man’s voice “Its, Peter” Y/N approaches the door and quietly opens it and peers outside. She didn’t see anyone until she saw a serving cart with a tea pot and a small cup. “Oh wow you’re very pretty ma’am” he says politely with a smile. “I thought you would like a small cup of tea” Y/N backs up surprised at the sight and bumps into the wardrobe. Hearing a voice from the wardrobe she looks at it in shock “ooh, watch it ‘ere mate” Y/N backs up to her bed and sits down surprised. “B-but, this is impossible!”

“I know mate, but ‘ere we are. Oh and the name’s Hobie” Y/N looks around in awe and surprise and just sits, processing the whole situation. The little teacup then spoke, “I told you she was pretty daddy!” Peter chuckles and pours some tea into his daughter “alrighty May, go and hand it to her, gently without spilling” Mayday happily hops to Y/N and waits for her to pick her up. “Why… Thank You” Y/N takes it softly. She then takes a sip of the tea and hums softly, enjoying the taste. “Wanna see me do a trick ??” Mayday then giggles as she breathes in and blows bubbles into the tea. She gets scolded quickly by her father though.

Peter chuckles and looks at Y/N. “Y’know, that took guts kid,” Hobie nods and agrees with him “the whole castle’s buzzin ‘bout it.” Y/N sighs in disappointment “but, I’ve lost my father, my dreams, I’ve lost almost everything..” Peter smiles and gives her a warm smile “aww, don’t worry kid, things always turn out better in the end.” Peter then realizes that he’s still supposed to be in the kitchen “oh crap, i forgot i’m supposed to be helping in the kitchen.. Anyways it was lovely meeting you” he says as the serving table wheels away from her room and leaves.

“Well now, let's get somefink good for youse to get dressed for the old geezer ‘ere.” Hobie then opens his drawers and sees some moths fly out “m’bad dovey” He then pulls out a nice dress for her and says “ ‘ere ya go, somefink pretty for you dovey” Y/N looks at the dress and smiles softly “oh, that’s very kind of you Hobie, but i’m not going to dinner” Hobie then shrugs and puts the dress back inside his drawers “aight then, youse definitely gonna make that geezer more laughable” he says. A small pattern is heard walking inside the room, Jess walked in and took a breath. “Come on honey, dinner’s waiting” she says trying to lighten up the mood.

Down at the dining table however, Miguel is pacing back and forth anxiously waiting for Y/N’s arrival. He then growls annoyed “What’s taking her so long ....I told her to come down…” He then looks at Miles and a smaller candle who’s named Lyla. “aww come on Miguel, you do realize that she’s literally lost her freedom and her dad like last week” Lyla says, stating the obvious. Miles then nods and says “soo uhh, Sir, Haven’t you thought that this girl.. Might be the one who could break the spell ?” MIguel looks up to the two candles “OF COURSE I HAVE..I’M NOT STUPID” Miles then smiles and says “Then you fall in love with her, sheee falls in love with you, and POOF! We’re human! We should be back to normal by midnight !” he says with a confident smile. Peter on the table however, digresses on the situation. “Miles buddy, it's not that easy y’know… these things take time” Miles then frowns and softly says “but, Peter ...the rose is already starting to wilt..”

Miguel then looks down and sits on all fours and grumbles “Oh, it’s no use..” he runs a paw through his large mane “it's just that she’s just so beautiful, and i’m well.. WELL LOOK AT ME” he says with a snarl. Peter then sighs and looks at Miguel “aww come on Miguel, you have to help her see through all of that” Miguel then growls lowly “I don’t know how” he says as his ears flatten to the sides. Lyla then grins and pitches in “then how about a quick lesson on how to be a gentleman 101: Sit up and try to be kind.” Peter smiles and also shares a few thoughts “oh then don’t forget to give her a sweet smile, come one show me one Migs” Miguel then proceeds to give the most toothiest and quite horrible smile, even Lyla had to step back a little out of surprise. “Now don’t scare her, charm her” Peter says. Miles then blurted out “Oh, OH and impress her with your intelligence!” Miguel looks at all four of them trying to absorb the information, his mind whirling at almost everything that he has to do, that just seemed utterly impossible. The quartet continued to bombard him with a whole bunch of manners until they all said at the same time “and the most important of all, CONTROL YOUR TEMPER!!!” Miguel wipes his face from the small bead of sweat that was forming.

Then, the sound of a door is heard opening, Miguel looks up in anticipation but is met with only Jess coming inside. “SO, evening everyone..” she says nervously. Miguel then raises an eyebrow “Well ? where is she ?” Jess takes a deep breath in, just knowing how Miguel is definitely going to react “soo, she’s…yea she’s not coming”

“WHAAAAAAAAAAT ??!!!!”

Outraged, Miguel leaves the dining room and runs as quickly as his legs and hind legs could take him, all the way upstairs and into the east wing. Peter yells out “Nononono, WAIT MIGUEL !”

Miguel manages to outrun them and make it to Y/N’S door and basically smacks it as hard as he could “ I THOUGHT I TOLD YOU TO COME DOWN FOR DINNER” y/n behind the door responds to him “I’m not coming” she says with a little huff in her voice. Miles, Lyla, Peter, and Jess just facepalm and shake their heads in disappointment. A sigh was even heard from behind Miguel from the huge letdown. “YOU BETTER COME OUT, OR I’M- YO VOY…VOY A ROMPER LA BENDITA PUERTA !”

Miles whistled and just said “so, just a quick suggestion , but uh….that really isn’t the best way to impress a girl..” Jess nods and sighs “Miguel just for once, can you actually just be polite to her?” Miguel gestured to the door “But, she is being so DIFFICULT” Peter then comes beside him and softly says “gently Miguel, you’re spooking her..” Miguel groans and lowers his tone at the door “Will you come down for dinner ?” he closes his eyes hoping that she would say yes to this tone in his voice. “No!” Y/N says.

Miguel’s eyes widened and his ears shot up in surprise and he gave a look pointing to the door as he tried to prove his point to the servants. Miles then says “suavemente y gentilmente…”

Miguel then takes a deep breath and tries again, “It would give me a great pleasure, if you would come out and join me for dinner.” He looks up to the door slightly hoping that she would come out this time…although his temper is starting to boil.

Jess coughs “COUGH- we say please- COUGH”

Miguel rolls his eyes and softly says please

Y/N simply says “NO, THANK YOU !” Everyone watching the interaction watches in shock as they know he’s going to blow.

Miguel then belts out “YOU CAN’T STAY IN THERE FOREVER”.

Y/N on the other side of the door yells out “QUE SI!”

Miguel snarls and roars out “FINE THEN GO STARVE FOR ALL I CARE PINCHE DESGRACIADA”

He looks down to his servants “IF she doesn’t eat with me, then she doesn’t eat at all” Miguel then growls out and runs off away to his room into the west wing. He opens the door annoyed and just grumbles to himself “I ask nicely but she refuses, like que quiere?? que yo hago? BEG ??” In a flurry of rage, he goes to a table where the enchanted rose is encased in a glass dome. Beside it is his magic mirror that was gifted by the enchantress. Miguel then grabs his magic mirror and looks into it “ensename la niña”

The mirror then glows a greenish blue color and shows him y/n sitting in bed being comforted by Hobie. “Aww come on Dovie, the old bloke ain't so bad..” Y/N however was sitting in bed dejected and not too convinced. “I don’t want to though...I don’t even want to do anything with him!” Miguel, shocked, puts down the mirror as he feels that same familiar feeling of hopelessness takes over his mind “who am I fooling…she’ll never see me as anything other than .... than a monster” he says as his voice shakes. He looks at the rose and sees a petal that slowly fell down and wither making the castle shake and crumble a bit.

“It’s hopeless…”

taglist: @cupcakeinat0r , @miguelhugger2099, @mcmiracles, @xxsugarbonesxx,@codenameredkrystalmatrix,@deputy-videogamer,@lxverrings,@miguelzslvtz,@itsameclinicaldepression,,@ricekrisbris,@loser-alert , @thedevax, @uncle-eggy, @m4dyy, @freehentai, @synamonthy, @razertail18, @s0lm1n, @badbishsblog, @faimmm, @opalwitchart,

#atsv miguel #miguel o'hara x reader #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara #miguel x reader #miguel atsv #spiderman miguel #miguel spiderverse #miguel spiderman #miguel ohara #miguel ohara x reader #miguel 2099

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quirrrky · 7 months

Text

—.: ･ﾟ✦ KISS THE GIRL

RIN, REO, NAGI, KUNIGAMI attempting to, almost, accidentally and finally kissing you (in no particular order, surprise!)

≡ NOTES ⋮ OMG! this is my blue lock sfw debut...I hope y'all can support me 🥺🫶

RIN

there you see her, sitting there across the way. She don't got alot to say, but there's something about her

He was seated in front of you in full concentration on the menu—brows knitted together, and lips pursed tight. His eyes intense on the booklet carefully studying which food you would both enjoy together.

Oh, you admired him like that. He looked so serious, so handsome.

You’re instantly in a daze and still couldn’t believe that you got a man like him to say ‘yes’ on a date with you.

“What do you want? I suggest we ord...” Rin trailed off as he noticed your pinned gaze on him. He felt a little nervous and his cheeks began heating up. Why were you looking at him like that?

Meanwhile, you weren’t even noticing that his focus was no longer on the menu, but already on you.

Rin looked back at you again, and he couldn’t help but get drawn into your eyes. They were so pretty...you were so pretty that he didn’t notice himself leaning forward to close to gap in between the two of you.

“Ma’am, sir, are you ready with your order?" The waiter interrupted, and Rin instantly pulled himself back to his seat. “Oh-ah, uhm I’m sorry. I’m sorry to interrupt you. I’ll just drop by again,” the waiter said.

You blinked twice realizing what could’ve happened. Was he really...Was he really gonna kiss you?

Rin has a hand covering the half of his face. His ears were red, and he was obviously flushed. He was half-pissed and half-embarrassed at the same time.

Now, he should better find another way to kiss you.

REO

yes, you want her. Look at her, you know you do. It's possible she wants you too there is one way to ask her. It don't take a word not a single word

He was fresh out of bath and you instantly jumped to your feet, holding a towel. As his hired personal assistant during his games, you always made sure that you were doing your duty well especially when it’s Reo. You’ve been in awe with the guy ever since and it would totally make you happy to help him be successful as an athlete.

You approached him with the towel and patted him dry.

“Hey, I told you. You don’t have to do this,” he gently said.

Reo wanted to stop you, but he couldn’t. Not when he kinda’ wanted it too. Your hands...your caring touches on him. He gulped.

Were you not finding yourself awkward in front of a half-naked man? Was he not attractive enough? Well, maybe you got used to him...to this already that it didn’t bother you anymore.

But it bothered him. He’s bothered by you...by this...in all kinds of ways he couldn’t tell.

“Allow me to do my job, sir!” You said, not backing down.

“How many times did I tell you to drop the ‘sir’?” He had been attempting for months now to eliminate whatever gap you had between you two yet you’re so stubborn and still insisted on your formalities.

“That can’t do, sir.”

He took a sharp inhale and decided to put a stop to this. He held your wrist, which forced you to shift your gaze unto his undeniably attractive face. Your throat dried up. He looked dead serious, and he towered over you. Your heart was skipping a beat. But he’s your boss...

Reo was supposed to say something, but he found himself leaning closer to you instead. His breathing got stuck in his chest as he wanted to have a taste of those lips. Those lips that he wanted to shut up everytime you’d call him something he didn’t want to be in your life.

You were caught in the moment, clueless and lost on what was happening. Why were you feeling weak now? You didn’t wanna stop this, but you have to.

All of a sudden, a droplet of water fell from his hair to your nose. You were jolted and smacked the towel over his face in panic, acting like you were drying him up like usual.

You couldn’t believe it. You were about to kiss your boss!

While you were so lost in your thoughts, Reo already made up his mind. He took the towel from your grasp and threw it over your head, surprising you.

“S-Sir?”

Before you knew it, your eyes widened in disbelief as his lips were now pressed against yours.

He pulled away and pinched the tip of your nose. “I told you. Drop the sir.”

NAGI

shala- lala-lala my oh my looks like the boy's too shy ain't gonna kiss the girl

The pale-haired agreed to assist you in memorizing some terms that you had to bear in mind. He agreed because he’d just play video games while you were reviewing then he’d just listen to you talk and check if what you were saying was accurate. It was not much of a big deal, really. You’re best friends after all.

He was so wrapped up on his phone that when it was already game over, he noticed that you fell asleep.

“Oh, you’re cheating, huh?” He murmured. Curious to see what you were trying to memorize, he bent his head forward attempting to carefully slide the handout underneath your head, but instead he was met by the sight of you peacefully sleeping.

You had the other side of your face against the table and your cheek was squished adorably. His eyes sparkled and he didn’t know it. He also couldn’t understand why was watching you sleep so boring but entertaining for him at the same time.

Should he take a picture? Would you drool? Were your lashes always like that? Nagi’s fingers grazed lightly over the strands, and it tickled him a little. It felt light and loved the fuzzy feeling against his skin.

He also found your even breathing too soothing for him that he didn’t notice his head swaying back and forth as he was being lulled into sleep. His eyes were now triggering to close as his head dropped against yours.

Opening his eyes again, it seemed like certain minutes passed by. As he was coming down to consciousness, he felt something soft against his lips. Was it a pillow? Hmmm...He never felt anything like this before. He opened his eyes and saw yours. No, it wasn’t a pillow that’s soft against his lips, it was your...

Immediately, he straightened his back and blinked rapidly. Oh. Did you two really... He pondered as his heart drummed fast in his ear. Maybe he’d find out the truth if he’d try to actually do that consciously this time around.

Maybe?

He was on his way on dipping his head forward when you squinted and opened your eyes.

“N-Nagi?” You said in puzzlement, waking up with his face so close to yours. Sitting upright, you scratched your eyes still fresh from sleep. “W-What happened?”

“Uh...” Flustered, he looked away, scratching his neck. “I think we kissed.”

KUNIGAMI

boy, you better do it soon no time will be better

Your boyfriend was always the gentleman. He’d always open the door for you, would volunteer to carry your bag, and would slice the steak for you if you’re finding it difficult. Kunigami Rensuke was always the gentleman, but in his situation right now, he was trying his best to be.

When he agreed to watch a movie with you, he never thought that it would be romance. Now, the man was hyperaware of your existence beside him—the way your elbow would rub against his, your laugh and the way you sip that soda from your straw.

His throat ran dry.

Now, how could he respectfully have your lips on his instead on that straw. Goodness...what was he thinking?

He ran a hand through his face and watched as the scene turned to the main lead passionately kissing the leading lady. He couldn’t help but turn to you. His eyes fixed on your lips. Oh, how he wanted to do that.

Rensuke laced an arm around you and your focus shifted to him from the movie scene. He was leaning close, eyes half-lidded and lips slightly parted. You smiled and fed him with a popcorn.

“I’m sorry. I almost forgot to share with you,” you said, completely clueless on what your boyfriend wanted to do all this time.

Your date night ended with you ranting about the movie’s ending. He honestly found it a little cringe too. It was another life-on-the-line main characters with one of them dying kind of story.

You were walking to your home with hands laced with each other. Though he badly wanted to kiss you, just like this was enough. Just the chance to spend a little bit of time with you was more than enough.

Stopping by the front of your house, he gently ruffled the top of your head. “Thanks for today.”

“Actually,” you swayed back and forth with the heels of your feet. Your gaze avoiding him as your face was all flushed. “My parents weren’t home tonight. Could you...Could you keep me company?”

Forget the kiss, Rensuke thought.

ADVANCED KISSES FOR REBLOGS AND OVERDRAMATIC TAGS & COMMENTS (ﾉ´ з `)ノ

AN: special thanks to @his-saiko for the inspo and @sugarbebenireo @chibishae34 bc your men are here

#rin x reader #reo x reader #nagi x reader #kunigami x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #rin fluff #reo fluff #nagi fluff #kunigami fluff #rin drabble #nagi drabble #reo drabble #kunigami drabble #rin scenarios #nagi scenarios #reo scenarios #kunigami scenarios

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z3rinn · 6 months

Text

# #. I WANT YOU MORE.

in which link has secretly been pining for the new librarian, and when he finds out you like someone he goes a bit batshit. warning : theres some blood and yandere content ahead !!

this took so long omg T_T testing and everything was hectic, but i hope you guys like it! this was written with botw or totk link in mind !! is it weird that I love Zelda so much but I haven't written much for it?? yes. but uh. LINK !!!

Link had been blessed. That's what everyone told him. He was a hero. Someone who saved this land for more than a millenia. He weilded the legendary sword, the one said to seal the darkness. He was blessed by the Triforce of Courage, given to him by the gods themselves.

Link had many titles in life, many burdens he had to carry. It was his job, his duty as a citizen of Hyrule. His duty as the hero.

He had almost everything in life. An outstanding reputation, a good job that kept him steady and afloat. A big house, secluded from others but close enough to not be considered an outcast. Good cooking skills that could impress anyone. Girls flocking and cooing over him. Link was the perfect man for anyone. He had it all.

Except for you of course.

The cute castle librarian.

He first noticed you in the old, rundown, library. A place that definitely needed to be renovated. The hylian glanced around as he stepped into the room. Cracks and shatters littered the room, bookshelves were close to falling, and the roof just seemed to barely be holding up. Books were piled everywhere and anywhere the eye could see.

It was an impressive library, he had to admit. Just a bit outdated. Perhaps that's what gave the building its beauty though.

Link glanced over to the small door near the end of the library, noticing a person coming out of it. You must’ve been the librarian, he quickly realized. He sized you up and down, you looked… done, oddly enough.

Zelda was the one to first talk to you of course. You were the head of the library, so kind and soft-spoken. Links eyes stayed fixated on your form as you greeted him and Zelda, showing them around. It was obvious you were trying to impress the princess while still being as kind as you could.

However, Link watched closely, scrutinizing your form with his piercing gaze. He noticed the way you talked about the different books and architecture of the building in great detail. Usually people spoke about the details with great pride, flaunting how they were so well versed in the subject.

Yet Link could tell you were tired. Tired of your duties and being stuck in this library. The way you spoke sounded energetic, and the smile on your face could fool anyone.

Yet he noticed the way you deflated after speaking with the princess. As if you had said these words a hundred times over. It was all calculated. A prepared speech. You were tired. That much he could tell.

He was tired too.

☆

Link found himself gravitating to the library after his first visit. There was something about it that called to him. Perhaps the want to know of his ancestors and their accomplishments. Thats what he kept telling himself.

He wouldn't do much while there however, other than picking up a book ot two before taking a seat at the table closest to your desk.

He tried reading the books of course, and at first succeeded without much distraction. However from the corner of his eyes he watched as you worked. Placing books onto their shelves, helping out customers, and tidying up as best you could.

Link’s eyes followed your form wholly. Although he could still notice ths small details, like your walking being sluggish, the knight couldn’t help but gawk. You were just so captivating. So fluid with your movements.

The way you moved around so swiftly yet carefully, aware of what you were doing while still being carefree. You could balance various books in your hands, all in different sizes. You maneuvered across the children running around, being steady to not harm them.

A light laugh escaped your lips as you told them to be careful, this was a library after all.

Link could tell that laugh was genuine at the least.

The heroes gaze fell to his hands. He wondered how you could act so engaged while still hating your job. The book he held felt as if it weighed just as much as his sword now.

"Oh, if it isn't the princesses guard! Uhm, Link... right?"

Link’s head snapped up, his gaze meeting your own. He was quick to note that the library had become silent. He hadn't realized it, but it seemed as if it was only you two left in the library now.

"What brings you here?" You spoke with a soft smile on your face. A costumer service smile it seemed. You were probably just waiting for him to get up and leave so you could close shop.

You shimmied over next to him, eyes focussing on the book in his hands. "Ah, a book on the master sword. You must be reading about your ancestors, correct?"

Link nodded, as you came to sit besides him. "I can help if you'd like? I’ve been researching the master sword ever since I was young. I’ve always been fascinated by the legends and heroes that fought with it.”

You turned to him, “It’d be nice to learn from someone who actually wields it as well.”

You spoke with a smile on your face, it was bright and real. He noticed the way you glanced at the sword on the table. Awe and admiration in your shimmering eyes. It looked as if you wanted to learn about it for a while now.

Hm. A small smile grazed his face. Blue eyes shining down at you.

Perhaps this could blossom into a nice friendship.

☆

It seemed as if Sir Link was visiting your library more and more often as of late.

You couldn’t help but smile as you noticed him outside office window, seeing the familiar blonde hylian sitting at the desk closest to you. He always sat there, eyes glancing around for you before just sitting and silently waiting. You giggled, placing the book back on your desk before walking out of the small room.

Walking towards him, you reminisced, recallinghow much time had passed. It had been around a month since you first met the hero, asking him to collaborate with you.

It started off simple, researching the master sword while talking about the heroes of past. There wasn’t much meaning to it, in fact it was just pointless chatter.

I mean the both of you knew the same exact things anyways.

However, you couldn’t help but think of Link as some sort of idol. It was a practically a dream come true, being the wielder of the legendary sword. Almost every kid that had heard of it wanted to become the great hero.

It was an honor and a sign of courage.

But also a sign of power.

You sighed, well if you couldn’t keep the sword, you could at least be friends with the person that did.

So it was only obvious to propose your grand idea.

And ever since then, Link would visit whenever he was off.

Sure, you didn’t expect him to show up every other day, but Its not like you were complaining. Link was basically unreal. He had a pretty face, and great hair. He was quiet and mysterious, yet soft and kindhearted. Plus he could cook. Practically everything you could want in a man.

You tapped your fingers against the table, another sigh escaping your lips.

Hm. Too bad you were already engaged.

Sure it was a forced marriage, but you wouldn’t cheat. You couldn’t deal with that guilt on your conciseness. You had to do it for your parents.

Your soon to be partner wasn't a bad person. He just wasn't the right one for you.

You didn't like him.

If only you could make someone get rid of him.

Your eyes shifted to Link’s form, staring at him intently. A smile was on his face as he rambled on about his first time seeing the sword. There was a childlike joy on his face as he spoke.

He was experiencing an old memory. A vivid scene from his past.

You noticed Link seemed to be opening up to you more, speaking incessantly and happily. You couldn't help but smile too. He was just perfect.

Someone that was already wrapped around your fingers.

Link was opening up more and more to you throughout your time together. At first he was silent, just watching you speak. You were the one to hold most of the conversations, with him just humming or intensly nodding along. He was so serious it was kind of funny.

You knew he had gone through a lot, so you'd let him take his time. He could become closer to you as time passed.

It didnt take as long as you assumed however, as the shell he hid behind had begun to crack. He started to smile and laugh when you told him a dumb joke. He was relaxed around you, his stiff posture loosening with a soft look on his face.

He started speaking on his own as well. That was probably the biggest improvement. The first time you heard his voice you practically swooned.

Link opened up conversations now, speaking about his experiences and abilities.

Someone that was already yours.

“So Link,” you suddenly started, staring at the wooden table before you while placing your head on your palm. Might as well as do it. “Have you ever had a lover?”

You were nervous to look at him. It was an odd question for sure, and you weren’t certian if you were close enough to ask him. A moment passed. And then another. Sweat ran down your back. Perhaps you were right for being concerned, as Link was silent.

You couldn’t help but glance up at him, gazing into his eyes fearfully. However, instead of the disgusted and judging look you expected, you were met by red.

Links face was flushed scarlet, hot and warm. His eyes were wide and darting to every corner of the room, so obviously avoiding you. Their pretty blue color was accentuated by his reddened face. Magically, his pretty hair became disheveled, adding to the almost comical scene before you.

A small smile played on your face, mischievous and sly. You couldn’t help but giggle, "Have I struck a nerve?"

He looked away from you, albeit, while shaking his head. It surprised you honestly. He was oddly embarrassed for such a simple question...

A laugh escaped your lips, a joking tone laying on your tounge. "Really? I would've assumed the hero of hyrule would have a partner..."

You paused, watching his expression closely. He was just sitting there, listening to you intently. The blush on his face had slightly subsided, yet was still present on his pale face.

Was it right to say this now?

A smile grew on your face, elegant and sweet. Hiding your intent. "Especially since even I have one."

You looked closer.

It was subtle, but you could tell Link’s expression changed. His face fell, even if it was just slight. You could see his eyes grew wide, mouth slightly falling agape.

But as quickly as the shock arrived, it left.

A soft smile grew on Link's face, gentle and calm. It would've captured your heart if you didnt know him that well. It was so obviously sad it kind of hurt.

Eh. No. No it didnt.

"I'm surprised, you don't seem all that shocked...," you leaned forward against the table, placing your head in your chin.

The hylian simply shrugged, lip twitching as if he wanted to say something.

Suddenly Link stood up, stammering something about Zelda needing his help. It almost gave you whiplash with how quickly he tried to leave. What an obvious lie. You tried to hide the smirk peeking up on your face.

You didn't expect him to loose his cool that fast.

Instead, you mirrored Link's sad expression, standing up to place a hand on his shoulder.

"Ah, I'm sorry to have taken your time away from the princess..." You flashed him a smile, patting his shoulder while trying to convey a solemn expression. "I guess I'll see you later?"

He nodded, taking your hand off his shoulder and keeping it in his. You noticed that he hesitated for a moment, eyes fixated on your softer hand.

He brought your hand to his face, gently kissing your finger tips and knuckles before turning away. You gaped, holding your hand close to your chest. Subconsciously, it seemed, that Link did the motion.

And he left you in the dust, just like that. With your heart beating and your mind racing. A smirk grew on your face, shining brightly as you giggled.

Link was the right choice.

☆

Link was sure he knew everything about you. From your favorite book to how many fruits grew in your backyard; despite never being formally invited.

It wasn't unwarranted for him to... conduct experiments per say.

You always told him to research if he was ever curious about something. And doing it hands on was one of the best ways to get good information.

So he researched, learning practically everything there was to learn about you.

Including your lover.

He just hoped you'd forget about them. Hoping you realized you didn’t need them. Link was so much better, he could love and care for you more than they ever would. He could protect you better then they ever could.

Your lover wasnt even there half the time. They didn't care for you. They didn't love you. They weren't right for you—

crash

Link stepped back, startled. He reached for his sword, before a light sigh escaped his lips, relaxing. A pretty vase sat in front of him. Now broken and shattered. He was getting carried away it seemed.

But Link cared for you. He was capable of everything. He could protect you. He would always be there for you.

He would love you.

Link would always love you.

Although. Sometimes he couldn't figure out why.

Perhaps it was because you spoke to him as if he was normal. Being the head librarian led you to learning heavily about Link's ancestors, and of course, their legacies.

They were all courageous hylians, heroes that were blessed by the gods themselves. Heroes that held the triforce.

Heroes he had to live up to.

But you didn't treat him like that.

While yes, you commented on him being a hero, and how he was lucky enough to have everything, you still treated him like a regular hylian.

You didn't judge him for his mistakes. Nor his skills. You laughed with him as you would a friend, jabbing and joking with him. No matter what he did, you accepted with a smile. Speaking to him as a friend would.

With you, he was like he was any other person.

He was so glad to have you.

It could've also been your mannerisms. You were gentle and soft-spoken, helping others with no compensation needed.

You were a model to many. The embodiment of a worthy citizen.

Yet there was also an air of mystery surrounding you. As if you knew more than you let on. It made you oddly compelling.

He noticed how you payed close attention to things. Just by the way he would speak, you could tell how he was feeling. Just by glancing over at someone's expression, you could tell what they wanted.

Link especially noticed how you looked at him. How you paid so much attention to him.

And only him.

Or maybe it was the way you slept with all the light's off. In pitch dark, no light whatsoever. It made it absolutely perfect for him to just stand over you in the night, breathing heavily over your gorgeous face. His hot breath mixing with yours—

Link blinked, glancing down at the broken shard from the vase in his hand. He had clutched it too hard it semed, as blood coated his hand.

It steadily dripped to the floor. A small pool of blood seeping into your wooden floors. It was red. Deep and scarlet like.

So different from the blood of monsters he'd slain countless times before.

He wondered how scarlet red blood would look pooling out of your lover.

While looking up at the clock on your bedroom wall he smiled.

Right.

You should've been home soon.

And he was right here waiting for you. :)

#link #the legend of zelda #legend of zelda x reader #loz #loz x reader #loz link #linked universe #yandere linked universe #linked universe x reader #link x reader #legend of zelda #zelda #botw #totk #yandere x reader

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angelrari · 6 months

Text

gossip girl · pt. viii

based on the tv series gossip girl

max verstappen / charles leclerc x socialité!reader

fc: elsa hosk (y/n) · taylor hill (léa) · barbara palvin (jolie)

a/n: hello!! i am back! sorry for not updating earlier, the uni has been killing me and i felt way too tired to stop and write for a while. hope you like this a lot! and once again thank you so much for the comments and the support on the last part🤍

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· · · · ·

gossip girl here, your one and only source into the scandalous lives of monaco's elite.

· · · · ·

autumn seemed to be the season of birthday celebrations: firstly was jolie's, then max's and now charles'. he had called yesterday, around dinner time, to ask you if you wanted to come to his birthday gathering. it was supposed to be a simple lunch with his childhood friends, who you knew from years ago, and he wanted you to be there. so now you stood in front of his apartment door with a cake you had baked the night before, following the recipe he had once told you it was his favorite.

"hurry up, you idiot". you whispered underneath your breath, feeling the weight of your purse threatening to fall from your left shoulder anytime soon.

charles opened the door a couple of seconds later. from his rosy cheeks, his damp hair and the fresh smell of gel you could tell he had recently gotten out of the shower. he wore a soft beige sweater and wide dark trousers. he had always been attractive, but god he looked good. his sincere smile widened and his green eyes lit up when he saw the cake you were holding.

"no way! you baked this for me?".

"of course, i didn't want to come empty-handed".

"you're the best, y/n". he said as he extended his hands to grab the cake. "let me help you".

you followed charles inside the apartment. quickly you noticed how tidy everything was. charles had never been a messy person, but it was obvious he had made sure everything was perfect today. he went inside the kitchen and he carefully placed the cake on the counter. afterwards, he had opened his arms to give you the warmest hug.

"thank you y/n".

"it's nothing". you replied. "happy birthday charles".

· · · · ·

leablanc

liked by gossipgirl, charles_leclerc and 88.926 others

leablanc like a feather.

view all 819 comments

username feather as in sabrina's song? liked by leablanc

username omg it's over fr!!!!!

username no birthday post, just shade. rip charlea you will be missed🙏

username why is charles in her likes when she's shading him? @/gossipgirl get to WORK

· · · · ·

while you waited for your friends to arrive, you looked at charles who gracefully played a song on the piano. you sat by his side watching how his fingers pressed the right keys without a single mistake.

"i don't remember this part". he said before stopping and quickly glanced at you.

"right, i'll show you".

clair de lune was the first proper song you had taught charles to play on the piano. one night during lockdown you had been re-watching twilight together and when you said how much you loved this song he suggested that you could teach it to him. charles was a fast learner and a hard-worker, the kind of pupil every teacher wishes they had. and you were patient and tender, the kind of teacher every pupil adored. most days, after he had finished his training, you would sit with him and teach him another part. some days, when he got tired of learning, he would sneak his hands underneath your shirt and with a soft kiss on your shoulder he would suggest that maybe it was time to do something different. and sometimes, when you watched him play, you would lean your head on his shoulder and wait for him to stop playing just to place his lips on yours.

"i think i might need you to start teaching me again". he said once you finished playing debussy's song.

"i will gladly do it for some karting classes in exchange".

"are you still that bad at it?".

"absolutely terrible. my sister beat my ass the other day". you replied and he chuckled.

"it's a deal then". he said. "but i still won't let you win if we compete against each other".

"oh, you were the worst. i remember the last time we went karting and i felt so humiliated. what kind of boyfriend does that to his girlfriend? you should've let me win".

"was i really?". he said. "i'm pretty sure the first thing told me when we were alone was-".

"oh, shut up". you interrupted him and he laughed loudly.

"what was it? baby, that was so hot-?". he said mocking your voice and you hit his arm softly.

"you're an idiot".

"i am, but you adore it".

i do. your cheeks hurt from smiling widely and now you could feel the blood rushing into them. charles was starring at you, his smile had faded away and his eyes dropped from yours to your red lips. your heartbeat was so loud you thought he could hear it. he placed his right hand on your chin and his face slowly came closer to yours. but sound of the doorbell made you him freeze in place.

"fuck". he swore under his breath as he quickly dropped his hand.

he sighed and nervously ran his fingers trough his hair while starring at you. when the doorbell rang for the second time, he stood up and left the living room, leaving you alone with your thoughts. shit, max. the questions in your head were so loud you almost couldn't listen the voices of your friends in the background.

"y/n is here". you heard charles say.

"god, i hope we weren't interrupting anything". a familiar female voice replied.

"don't worry, you weren't". charles lied. "please, come in".

the sound of giggles caught your attention. was that a baby? and before you could figure out who was it, your old friend lily fleury walked into the room. a few seconds later, her husband marc appared holding their baby in his arms.

"oh my god". you said the moment you saw her face.

"you didn't tell her?". lily asked charles and he shook his head.

"it was a surprise".

lily and marc had been living in barcelona for the last four years. marc, who was born in spain, got a job opportunity there and they decided to leave monaco. lily had been one of your closest friends when you were younger and you kept in contact even though you haven't seen each other since they left.

"i haven't seen you since forever". lily said as she gave you a hug.

"what are you guys doing here? are you visiting your family?". you asked.

"no, actually we moving back". marc explained. "barcelona is great, but, you know, we want nora to grow up here in monaco".

"i thought you knew everything, charles has been trying for days to gather all of us since we told him we were moving, i thought he told you". lily commented.

"i just thought it would be a nice surprise". charles said.

· · · · ·

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 113.718 others

yourusername cherry red 🍒

view all 1.003 comments

gossipgirl or should we say "ferrari red"?

username WHAT DO YOU KNOW

lilyfleury i missed you so much let's do this again soon!!

yourusename please!!! also i need to see nora again, she's the so, so cute ❤️‍🩹

lilyfleury i know she adores you as much as i do 🤍

charles_leclerc nora loves me more

yourusername 🤥🤥🤥

· · · · ·

the night had arrived and it was time to leave. your heart felt full after spending the day with your old friends. lily and marc were getting nora ready to leave as charles held you tightly in his arms as you said your goodbyes.

"thank you, y/n". he said. "for being here today".

"honestly, it's me who should be thanking you". you replied. "i feel like you're helping me build the life i had here in monaco before i left".

"you don't need to thank me". he responded and left the softest kiss on your forehead. "i want you to feel at home once again, so you don't run away anymore".

"you don't have to worry, i'm here to stay".

"good, because i'm not letting you go once again".

· · · · ·

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taglist: @cha-hot @carlandonorri-s @raizelchrysanderoctavius @drunkinthemiddleoftheday @crlsummer @f1mockingjay @ssararuffoni @au-ghosttype @jointhehunt67 @amalialeclerc @lazybot @kimmchijjajang @roseseraj @ponkaniee @champagneproblems17 @starshapedb0x @aundercover @lqvesoph @coffeewhore18 @coolio2195 @crazysaladchopshop @mirrorball-6 @nataliambc

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tonowarii · 1 year

Note

can i request a tsu'tey x dreamwalker!reader where he just indulge them in their rambles about earth?? reader is just talking about the most random things like cats and he's just there sitting next to her, listening. could be fem or gn reader, up to u!

(im a sucker for tsu'tey lmao)

and you shall receive!! ❤️ i'm sorry this took too long omg

tsu'tey te rongloa ateyitan x gn! dreamwalker! reader

Tsu'tey would rather feed himself to a thanator than to admit that one of his most awaited (and favorite) past times is where he's sat beside you, hearing you ramble on about anything and everything about your home town, which was earth. A planet away.

Now, his eyes carefully watched you as you made all these gestures from your hands as every expression you made enchanced your story.

Then something sparked in your head as you pointed a finger.

"Now, I don't know if this is a coincidence but have you noticed that we- or the na'vi look like cats!" You turned to Tsu'tey.

Tsu'tey's brows furrowed. What in Eywa was a "cat" and why does it look like them?

"What is a cat?" Tsu'tey asked, hoping that it further indulged you in your rambling.

You gasp out loud like what he said was something blasphemous. It had him confused.

"Okay, cats! Where do I start?" You think for a moment before you used your hands to show him an approximate size of cats back on earth. "They're this small... Wait is this correct... That reminds me I haven't seen a cat in a long time.." You battled with yourself as Tsu'tey chuckled.

Knowing someone was listening to you, you went back on explaining. "They're this small, at least I think so," You think again. "And they have ears like us." You said, pointing at his ears. "They have noses like us too." Then pointing at his nose.

"And don't forget about the tails, they have that too." You say, motioning to Tsu'tey's tail who was curled next to yours as you sat beside each other.

Tsu'tey nods, following your words.

"But they can be quite mean sometimes... And annoying, but we, humans, love them nonetheless." You added.

"Ah, can they.. Speak?" Tsu'tey asked.

"No, not really they just.. Meow." You answered.

Tsu'tey chuckled at the sound you made. Truly this 'cat' sounds something he'd like to see up close due to your impressive storytelling.

"Then why do you find them annoying?" He continued to ask more questions, getting to hear your voice being filled with wonder as you reminisced truly had an effect on him.

There was indeed no one like you.

"As far as I can remember, they tend to whine at me begging for more food when I just fed them!" You laugh. "I had a cat once and gods," You sighed.

"He always knocks things off of my table back in my house."

Tsu'tey seems amused. "Like- he would just look at me and let's say there was a pen on the table, he'd look at me-" You say, looking at Tsu'tey to demonstrate how he'd look.

"And he's using his little paw and his audacity to flick it off the table!"

Even though Tsu'tey couldn't understand parts of your sentence he truly felt that it annoyed you, but your smile said otherwise.

"Am I... like cat?" Tsu'tey asked.

Your eyes widened and you laughed. "I mean, yes.. Well yea actually now that I think about it-"

"You find me annoying?" He tilts his head, smirk now forming his mouth.

You quickly shake your head. "No! No! You are far from annoying." You defensively state.

"But you are like a cat." You smile up at him.

"How so?"

You laugh as you think of the reasons, holding a finger up for each one.

"One, you like to climb, don't you? Second, you have this habit of staring at people like you're judging them-"

"I do not do that-"

"Yes you do. Third, you like to be clingy when no one's around and when you're faced with other people you're suddenly this big intimidating creature." You laugh as Tsu'tey scrunches his face.

"I do not like this anymore."

You laugh further, leaning onto him as his arm suddenly wrapped around your shoulder, pulling you close to him.

"See, you are a cat, Tsu'tey, ma yawne."

He shakes his head with a small smile on his face.

"Oh! And fourth, you purr." You giggle, nuzzling yourself on his chest, indeed hearing a faint purring from him as you lay close.

Tsu'tey shakes his head, rubbing your arm as you thought about another topic you could talk his ear off of.

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daisies-daydreams · 11 months

Note

omg okay so I just found out about your blog and I've been bingereading your fics, and I really want to make a request hehe 🤭. I was thinking of a ghost x fem!reader where the reader likes ghost and tells him but because of him being avoidant when it comes to romance and his fear of getting close to people, he rejects her. But when he eventually realises that he loves her, he notices that someone else is already making a move on her and gets jealous. I just really want to see a jealous ghost😭 and I like the whole idea of ghost having an avoidant attachment style, it seems realistic and fitting for him. But I would like to see him overcome his insecurities and fears when it comes to getting close to people. The poor guy deserves love🥺 Thank you so much!!💖💖

The First Step (Ghost x F!Reader)

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x F!Reader Category: Fluff & Angst, Hurt/Comfort Warnings: Mentions of Blood, Jealous!Ghost, Descriptions of Physical/Emotional Abuse, Descriptions of PTSD/Trauma, Rejection, Cheating, Swearing Word Count: 3.9k+

Song Recs For This Fic: What You Know and On Melancholy Hill

A/N: Hello! Thank you very much for your request and for reading my work! I agree, Ghost does seem like the person who would have an avoidant attachment style. He definitely deserves to have someone to hold and cherish him. 🥺 I hope you enjoy!

MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI

The First Step (Ch. 2)

Ghost’s breathing stuttered as he clutched on the edge of the sink. A sharp sting radiated from his shoulder, stitches lining the curve of his muscular arm. A more dull ache rang through his chest as he swallowed thickly, avoiding his own gaze in the foggy mirror.

(1 Week Earlier)

Your brows were knitted together as you tilted your head. Your hands worked deftly to curve the last stitches through the lieutenant’s skin. His flesh still burning with pain from the knife wound he received during his most recent mission.

“How many stitches have I given you now?” you asked as you finished your work.

“Too fucking many,” Ghost grunted. The corners of your eyes crinkled as you released a soft chuckle. Ghost felt something faint stir in his chest at the sound of your laugh. You stepped back, eyeing him up and down.

“Alright, Lt. You’re good to go!” you chirped. Ghost gave a nod as he gazed over his wound. Impeccably stitched together, as always. He huffed as he slid off of the medical table. His eyes studied you carefully as you busied yourself with cleaning up. For some reason, he just felt stuck, as if his body refused to move forward. You finished washing your hands before you turned to him. You pulled down your mask, revealing a cheeky smile.

“Need something, Ghost?” you jested. Ghost blinked, snapping out of his daze.

“No. Thanks…doc,” he said as he clasped his hand over your shoulder. Your cheeks instantly flushed red at his contact. Ghost raised a brow as he slid his hand off of you. “Well, I’ll be seein’ you around,” the lieutenant nodded as he made his way towards the door. He froze when he felt you grab his hand. He shifted slightly, his dark eyes locking with yours. Your whole face was a deep shade of red.

“Doc?” he asked. You gasped and slipped your hand away.

“I-I’m sorry! I just-” you bit your bottom lip and shuffled in place. His chest grew tight as you stepped closer. “I…” you released a shaky breath as you fiddled with your hands. Ghost felt like his whole body was turning to lead.

“C’mon, (Y/N). You can tell me,” he said. You hesitantly met his gaze.

“I wanted to ask you…if you want to go out for drinks sometime this weekend?” you squeaked out. Ghost’s eyes widened slightly as time seemed to slow to a snail’s pace. A clash of hope and dread instantly filled his chest as his mind went completely blank. You swallowed a lump in your throat. “Y-You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I just-”

“No,” he quickly spat out. Your lips drew into a tight, pale line.

“What?” you breathed, shoulders falling. Ghost’s hands shook as he balled them up into fists, his heart mercilessly pounding against his sternum.

“I said ‘no’. Trust me, you don’t want to make that mistake,” Ghost muttered. All of the color left your face as you stumbled back.

“But it’s not a mistake!” you suddenly shouted. Ghost tried to avoid your gaze as you trembled before him. “Sorry," you quickly apologized. "I just-I like you, Ghost, and I want to get to know you more outside of just sewing you up or making sure you're not bleeding to death," you explained while nodding towards the medical table. Ghost gritted his teeth as he felt his heart sink into the churning pit of his stomach. He flinched when you brought yourself mere inches from him.

“Please, just give me a chance...Simon,” your voice cracked.

His throat hitched at the sound of his name spilling from your lips. Ghost tried to hide how his chest was heaving as he quickly spun himself around.

“My answer is final,” said as he quickly strode towards the door. He heard you choke back a whimper as he approached the threshold. Ghost’s hand trembled ever so slightly as he pushed against the surface of the door. He was tempted to glance behind his shoulder, yet compelled himself to look forward.

The door soon swung closed with a deafening thud.

(Present)

Ghost’s knuckles were turning white as he clenched his jaw. He slowly drew his attention up to the mirror. All he could see was a man torn in two staring right back at him.

“Fuckin’ git-she was right there pourin’ her heart out to you and you just fuckin’ brushed her off,” he thought to himself. Ghost gritted his teeth as he pushed himself off the sink. He ran his hands through his dirty blonde hair before grabbing his mask. He stared down at the empty eyeholes.

“It’s fine. She’s a big girl-she can handle it,” he rationalized. His nostrils flared as he tugged the balaclava over his head. "She doesn't need me," Ghost told himself.

“You didn’t really mean those words you said, did you?” his internal voice rang. Ghost gritted his teeth. He shook his head as he walked over to his locker, throwing on a fresh pair of clothes.

“You actually feel-”

“Stop it,” he scolded himself as he harshly pulled his shirt over his damp upper body. He ignored the weary glances of other soldiers as he stomped out of the locker room, making his way towards his quarters. All he wanted to do was sleep off the nonsense that was stewing inside of him.

Whatever feelings he thought he had for you, it was nothing more than a fantasy. Something to help him feel at ease whenever he was overcome with boredom. That’s all you were to him: a distraction.

A distraction when he heard your warm laugh when he would tell his corny jokes. A distraction when he imagined holding you in his scarred, hefty arms in his bed. A distraction…wondering what your soft lips would taste like when he returned from a long, grueling mission.

His footsteps slowed before he eventually came to a halt. That warm, strange feeling writhed in his chest again. Ghost felt it spread and course through every inch of his being as thoughts of you flashed through his mind like a film in full-color. His breathing stuttered.

“You actually feel the same way about her,” the voice inside him echoed.

He collapsed his hand over the place where his mouth would be. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, Ghost felt his eyes sting as tears glazed over them.

He loved you...he loved you.

Ghost let his hand fall from his face. He balled it into a tight fist as a renewed sense of boldness bloomed inside of him. He couldn’t just stand here dumbstruck with this realization. Ghost felt his heartbeat quicken as he rushed towards your office. This wasn’t the end of the line-he’d be sure to set things right.

A small smile graced his face as he rounded the corner. A slit of light shone through the crack of your door, and that’s when he heard it: another man’s voice reverberating from the room. Ghost’s blood ran cold as his movements slowed to a crawling pace. A flicker of your laughter spilled out of the room not long after the man’s. Ghost narrowed his eyes as he inched forward, his footsteps barely making a trace of noise. He peeked through the crack in the door.

He recognized the man-a newer recruit, Sergeant Johnson. He’s seen him before, and despite his usual friendly demeanor, something just felt off about him. Ghost’s jaw clicked as he watched the Sergeant hover near you.

“You’ve got a cute laugh,” Johnson drawled. Ghost felt a sudden feeling rip through his heart. It wasn’t anger…no-it ran deep like an open, festering wound. You tucked a strand of frizzy hair behind your ear, avoiding Johnson's gaze.

“T-Thank you,” you said sheepishly. The man wore a wide grin as he leaned his hand onto the wall, boxing you in. Your eyes widened.

“Are you free tonight?” the man lilted. Your blush rushed up to your ears as you held your hands together in front of you.

"P-Probably not. I'll most likely be busy with work," you stated. Ghost felt relief wash over him, only to feel the jealously flare up again as the Sergeant leaned in closer.

"Tell you what- why don't I get some dinner from the mess hall and bring it back here? That way you won't have to worry about leaving your office," he suggested with a smile. Ghost waited with bated breath for your answer.

"Okay," you finally replied. Ghost heard the sound of his heart cracking as Johnson leaned away from you.

"Great. I'll be back so don't go anywhere!" he said. You nodded and gave a small wave.

"Okay. See you soon," you grinned, though Ghost didn't miss the misty look in your eyes. Fuck...you were still hurting. Johnson strode towards the door, blinking when he met eyes with the lieutenant.

“Oh! You must be Ghost. Heard a lot of stories about you-good ones, don't worry," Johnson chuckled as he held his hand out. The lieutenant raised a brow before clutching the man's hand. Johnson winced slightly. "Oof, got quite a grip there," he laughed nervously.

"So I've heard," Ghost rumbled. Johnson awkwardly looked around the hallway before giving a firm nod.

"Sorry for keeping you from the Doc. I'll get out of your hair," Johnson stated as he brushed past him. Ghost grunted as he followed the man with his eyes until he disappeared around the corner. He turned back to see you standing stiff as a board against the wall. Ghost cautiously stepped towards you as if approaching an untamed animal. He paused a few feet away from you.

"Hi," he said.

"Hi," you replied. Both of you avoided each other's gazes. The silence only seemed to emphasize the tension growing between the two of you. Ghost cleared his throat.

"Listen, Doc-(Y/N)," he quickly corrected himself. You rubbed your arms as you poked at the inside of your cheek with your tongue. Ghost sighed as he nervously cracked his fingers. "I just...I'm sorry for being such an arse last week," he grunted. You remained quiet, the only sound being the humming from the fan in the corner of the room. "It wasn't fair to you, and-"

"It's fine," you curtly replied. Ghost closed his mouth, his skin crawling with goosebumps. He's never heard that kind of tone come from you, the kind that cuts deep into someone like a knife.

"But-you see, I-"

"No, I see perfectly well, Ghost," your voice cracked with bitterness. Your eyes were glossy as your mouth was curved into a deep, sullen frown. Ghost felt his heart turn to stone as you stepped forward.

"(Y/N), please listen to me. I came in here because-" he suddenly choked on his own words. You released a shaky sigh as you gave him a dejected look.

"Because of what, Ghost?" you asked. He screamed at himself as tears began to pour down your red cheeks. Ghost suddenly felt a wave of dizziness crash over him, a cacophony of his own internal monologue mixing with the fragmented voices from his past piercing through his mind. The walls around him felt like they were growing closer with the intent to crush him. Everything felt like it was going too fast for his own mind to catch up.

"I..." his gruff voice trailed off. You sighed as you clutched your hair, your eyes puffy and red.

"Please, don't do this to me again," you murmured beneath your breath. Ghost's throat tightened even more.

"Just tell her! She's right there!" the internal voice screamed at him. He unclenched his fists.

"I just came to tell you that you...shouldn't go out with Johnson," he spat out. Your face shifted from a look of anguish to confusion.

"You should be with me instead," he said internally. But the words remained lodged in his throat.

"I've seen him around the base. He doesn't seem-" The sound of thudding footsteps cut him off. Johnson stood in the doorway, a bag of takeout in his hands. He frowned when he saw you wipe tears from your cheeks.

"Everything okay?" he asked as he rushed to your side. You nodded, tearing your eyes away from Ghost.

"Fine," you huffed. Johnson stared between the two of you.

"I just got some pizza-I hope that's okay," he beamed. Ghost felt like he was already being shoved out of the room. You glanced over at him one more time before looking back to the Sergeant.

"Pizza's great," you smiled as you accepted the food. Ghost slowly stepped out of the room, the tendrils of jealously encroaching into his heart. His body felt cold as he walked down the hall, a bitter taste coating his tongue.

"It's just one little dinner," Ghost told himself. But no matter how hard he tried to rationalize the situation, he couldn't stop the poison from leaking from his heart and through his entire being.

+++

A whole month has passed, and you were still dating Sergeant Johnson. Ghost told himself that it didn't bother him at first, that the whole "love realization" was just wishful thinking. But the more he saw the two of you and Johnson together, the worse the jealously inside of him festered. It corroded his heart each time he heard you laugh at his jokes, saw you holding his hand.

He was talking with Soap and Gaz in the mess hall one evening. His dark eyes followed you as you walked into the room and leaned down to Johnson's ear. He couldn't see your face, but he could tell you were whispering something to the Sergeant. He watched with clenched fists as both of you left the mess hall in a hurrty. Something inside Ghost snapped into a thousand pieces, his veins bulging in his temples.

Ghost immediately rose from his seat, ignoring Soap's barrage of questions as he trailed not too far behind you. Other soldiers looked at him like he was a bat out of hell as he stormed towards your office. His nostrils flared as he grabbed the doorknob, only to hear a harsh wail crack through the air. Ghost hesitantly shuffled at the door before cracking it open ever so slightly. Johnson stood in front of you with his arms held up as if in surrender.

"Babe, please! I can explain," Johnson said. You scoffed.

"I saw your tongue down her throat, Logan!" you shrieked. Your voice dripped with anger as you growled. Johnson huffed as he straightened his posture.

"It's not my fault you've refused to sleep with me this whole time," he spat. Ghost heard you gasp quietly as he opened the door slowly. He held his finger up to his lips and you swallowed, shifting your gaze back to the man before you. "You're a prude little bitch, you know that? Maybe if you had done what I asked of you, I wouldn't be running off to see other girls," Johnson hissed as he raised his hand. Ghost instantly launched himself forward, grabbing the Sergeant's meaty wrist.

"What the fuck-" Johnson was cut off when Ghost quickly grabbed the man by his shirt and threw him against the wall.

You yelled as you slid behind your chair, your hands clutching onto it as if it were your shield. Ghost felt satisfied with the way the Sergeant's head snapped against the hard surface of the wall, nearly putting a dent in it.

"Don't you ever treat to her that way, you fuckin' git," Ghost snarled as he shook him by his collar. Johnson's eyes popped out as he shivered in his tight grasp. You muttered a few incomprehensible words as you peeked around. Ghost's heart was pumping as the veins in his hands threatened to pop. He lowered Johnson enough so he'd remain face to face with him.

"Here's what's going to happen: because I witnessed you abusing (Y/N) and threatened to strike her, I'm going to write a very, very detailed report," he explained with a cold tone. Johnson swallowed a lump in his throat, his legs still dangling above the ground. "You’ll most likely to go to jail, Sergeant. When you do, I can guarantee that whatever happens to you there will be downright merciful compared to what I have in mind," he rumbled lowly as he curled his fist. The Sergeant's lips quivered as he shook his head vigorously.

"I-It won't happen again, I promise," Johnson wheezed. Ghost scoffed as he dropped him onto the cold, linoleum floor. The man scrambled up to his feet, his legs knocking together as Ghost pinned him against the wall, pressing his tattooed forearm against the Sergeant's throat and his legs against his.

"You should be glad I'm just a Lieutenant. Price is the one who makes the final calls around here," Ghost said as he subtly grabbed at his phone in his back pocket. He shook at it gently, hoping you'd get the message. You paused for a moment before slipping beneath your desk. He narrowed his eyes as he loosened his grip on Johnson.

“Y-yes sir! I understand completely. I-I'm sorry, really, I didn’t-”

"I'm not the one you need to apologize to, you fuckin' twat," Ghost scoffed. He looked over towards you. You whispered a few more things into your phone before pressing a button. You glanced up and nodded at him, your face still pale and wet with tears. "Apologize to her," Ghost said gruffly. Johnson's mouth snapped open in protest. "That's an order, Sergeant!" Ghost snapped. Johnson huffed before slowly turning towards you. Large streaks of tears fell down your face as he straightened himself.

"I'm sorry, (Y/N)," he said with a lowered head. Ghost strode up and placed a hand onto Johnson's shoulder.

"Go on," Ghost commanded with a tight squeeze. Johnson licked his dry lips.

"I'm sorry...that you don't know how to attend to a man's needs," he snarled maliciously. Your eyes widened as you gasped. Ghost sneered as he grabbed the man by his short hair, readying to slam it against your desk.

"Simon don't!" you cried with outstretched arms. Ghost froze, his eyes falling on your weary face. Johnson laughed bitterly.

"Simon? What, were you cheating, too?" the man derided. Ghost's fists shook as he threw the man across your desk with a loud thud. You gasped and shuffled back before Ghost tossed the man onto the floor, his body crumpling like a ragdoll's. Johnson groaned as he rubbed a sore spot on his chin. He scowled as he wound up a fist to strike.

"THAT'S ENOUGH!" Price's voice boomed. All of you froze as he stood in the doorway, his arms crossed and eyes lit with pure rage. He shifted back as a few military police officers filed into the room. Ghost made his way towards you as they surrounded the Sergeant. You were still hidden beneath your desk, your body curled into itself.

"(Y/N)," he called softly. You peeked up at him, your eyes red and puffy. He knelt down on one knee and slowly held his hand out. "It's alright. You're safe now," Ghost whispered. You cautiously took his hand as he guided you to your feet. The cuffs clicked across Johnson's wrists as one of the officer's kept their hand on his neck.

"You can't do this to me! Do you know how hard I've worked to get here?!" he shouted as he was being roughly escorted out of the room.

Price had no words to offer, only a cold gaze that could make any person shiver. Johnson's face turned red as he protested wildly before one of the officers told him to shut it. A sense of relief washed over the room as he was finally dragged out. The Captain shook his head before setting his attention on the two of you. Price's brows furrowed when he saw a red mark on your wrist. Ghost felt the anger inside him reach a boiling point when he saw it, too.

"I'm going to fuckin' kill him," he snarled.

"Easy, Ghost," Price said. Ghost grunted as he swallowed down his rage. The Captain turned to you, reaching his hands out. "I know a lot has just happened, but we need to get as much as we can while the memories are still new. I promise you, (Y/N), that fucker's going to pay for what he did," Price stated with a nod. You sniffed before releasing a heart-wrenching wail.

You sobbed as you wrapped your arms around your shivering body. Ghost and Price exchanged weary glances as you shrank into yourself.

"Stupid git," Ghost heard his father's acerbic voice echo inside his head. His own wrist stung slightly as he remembered every terrible instance involving that wretched man. That quote about time healing all wounds never resonated with Ghost-the wounds still cut deep and ran with blood. Ghost blinked as your aching sobs drew him back to the present.

"I-I was so stupid," you shook. Ghost tilted his head as you rested your head on his chest and winced. "I should've known. I just-I shouldn't have-" you broke down, your forehead falling onto Ghost's broad chest as you and clutched his black t-shirt. He looked over to Price. The Captain gave a small nod.

"Just make sure to come to my office when you feel ready," the Captain said as he made his way towards the door. Ghost nodded as Price left the room.

You continued to stain his shirt with hot tears, your chest heaving as you trembled. Ghost felt unsure of what to do in this moment, his hands twitching at your sides as you wept. Suddenly, a faint memory popped up. Ghost leaned his face forward, his covered lips nearly brushing against your ear.

"Can I...Can I hold you, love?" he asked. Your head snapped up as your mouth flew open. You wore a look of shock on your face, your chin trembling. Ghost studied you carefully as he released an uneasy sigh. "Well, y’see, my mum-she would, she would hold me...when…” his voice trailed off as a hard lump formed in his throat. He squeezed his eyes shut as if to shield himself-both from the memories that pierced his mind and the act of confessing such a vulnerable thing.

His eyes snapped open when he felt you softly wrap your arms around him. You released a shaky breath as you squeezed him tightly, pressing your body against his. Ghost's hands slowly came up, his bulky arms curling around your smaller form. You were so warm-your skin soft and glowing like sunlight on a spring day. Ghost gently rested his chin on your shoulder, inhaling the scent of your shampoo.

His breath hitched when you splayed your hand across his rugged upper arms. Ghost let his own hands fall across your lower back, his chest purring ever so slightly. He felt you relax in his grasp as the two of you continued to hold each other.

Eventually, you started to withdraw yourself from his embrace. He slowly blinked his eyes open, his vision blurred with tears. You gave him a warm, tired smile as you wiped your eyes and sniffed.

"Thank you, Ghost," you sighed. Ghost took in a deep breath as hot tears rolled down his face from beneath his balaclava. He looked down and slid his hand close to yours. You gazed up at him with parted lips before taking it into your gentle grasp. He smiled down at you as he pressed his thumb to the back of your palm.

“Please...call me Simon”.

____

Thank you for reading! ❤️

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anticipatecrime · 9 months

Note

Omg your witches forest Colby fic was SO GOOD you should write fluff for Sam 🙏

𝙨𝙡𝙚𝙚𝙥𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙞𝙣 | sam golbach x gender neutral reader

summary: sleeping in + breakfast in bed from your boyfriend, after a party in the traphouse a/n: sorry this is pretty short, the request was vague so i tried my best :) words: 900

you wake up to a sudden noise, blaring across the room. sams phone jolted loudly on his bedside table, vibrating against the wood. holding your hands to your ears, you hear a groan, and feel a visible presence leaving the bed.

peeking your eyes open, you see your boyfriend standing up, on his phone attempting to turn of the alarm. you watched as he kept mis clicking the off button.

he let out a frustrated sigh of relief, before averting his eyes to you. sam frowns, upset he had awaken you so early, after a party. he climbs back into bed, his arms surrounding you. "i'm sorry baby, i had no idea i had an alarm set." he mumbled huskily into your neck.

yawning, you replied. "it's okay, m just tired."

in seconds, a pounding feeling attacks your head, causing you to wince. your hand flies to your forehead, holding it tightly. "fuck." you grumble.

sam looks at you, remorseful for letting you drink so much the night before. he should've been watching you more carefully. "hey, it's okay, we don't have to move at all." he smiles at you, getting into a more comfortable position so he's able to hold you against his chest.

you squint, your mouth dry, sticky with thick saliva. sam notices you swallowing a few times, before handing over his waterbottle to you.

the instant relief of cold water hits your throat, and you moan at the feeling, before passing it back to him. he gazed at you, seeing you curl up into his chest and holding onto him.

you felt his hand graze your cheek, you pulling up the comforter to cover both of you again. "you're so beautiful y/n." you hear, before you drift back to sleep, it overtaking you.

he looks at you in awe, wondering how he got so lucky. he thinks back to the first time he met you, almost two years ago.

colby had invited him to one of his friends parties, and you were there, upstairs sitting alone on a beanbag. that night you had lost all your energy within the first hour, deciding to distance yourself from the loud noise.

when he saw you from across the room, his jaw dropped, himself in awe at the person infront of him. he remembers how nervous he was approaching you. at first it was rocky, but once you truly began chatting and opening up to eachother, sam fell in love, realizing how amazing and genuine you were.

he sighs, reminiscing, still observing your sleeping presence.

sam felt horrible that you were dealing with a hangover, and wanted to make the experience the farthest from miserable for you, so he slowly retreated away, trying not to wake you once more before heading into the kitchen.

he had always dreamed of being a house husband, making food and taking care of the house, so having the opportunity to make you breakfast in bed made him so excited.

taking precautions, he slowly took out the pans, not wanting to have them clash and wake you up. sam wasn't too sure on exactly what to make, so he went with a classic traditional breakfast in bed.

he turned the knobs on the stove, and set the pans on the burners. waiting for them to heat up, he grabbed two champagne glasses, filling one with orange juice, and the other apple, knowing you enjoy both.

after about thirty minutes, sam had finished cooking, now plating all of the food aesthetically before taking a picture of it to post onto his instagram story. he wrote a caption for it. 'surprising my girlfriend with breakfast in bed :)'

he felt so proud of himself, and giddy to see your reaction. he made sure to include eggs, bacon, toast, crepes, a croissant and some fruits.

setting his phone back down, he carried the tray up the stairs and into your shared bedroom. he placed it carefully onto the bed, before slightly opening the curtains to let some sun in.

sam rubbed your shoulder, waking you up gently.

you yawned, seeing him sitting infront of you. he smiled happily then normal, and then you noticed the tray on the bed. it took a few seconds until you realized what that meant and why it was there, but when it clicked you launched into his arms, hugging him tight. "awh sammm."

he chuckles. "i thought you would like some breakfast in bed." you begin to tear up, never experiencing someone care about you as much as sam did. "babyy." he says to soothe you, still rubbing your back. "you have a whole platter to eat, it's going to cool down."

you giggled, sniffling slightly. you reached out to one of the glasses, drinking juice, before biting into a croissant. "thank you sam, really." you say, as he watches you. "you better eat some too."

sam beamed, immediately grabbing a fork and taking a few bites from the eggs. he sat you on his lap, and you continued to enjoy breakfast together, taking the rest of the day to relax, and love eachother.

and eventually, you yawned once more, in the arms of your boyfriend. "i love you y/n."

"i love you too sam."

#sam and colby #sam golbach #samandcolby #colby brock #colbybrock #sam golbach x reader #sam golbach fluff #trap house #anticipatecrime

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revrover · 1 year

Text

The Stranger - Pt. 2

Part One: The Stranger

Part Three

Pairing: Namor x Reader

Word Count: 8k (lol whoops)

Warnings: Violence, Blood, Language, PLOT

Summary: Namor isn’t the only one who has been searching for his general. Thanks to you, Namora’s life was saved -- but when your connection to the two strangers brings you face to face with a hostile group of government agents, you find yourself in the crossfire of a much bigger conflict.

A/N: OMG first and foremost thank you for being here, thank your for coming back, and thank you for reading. This has taken me a bit longer to post because I’ve been pouring over it every day for a month, trying to get it just right. Comments, feedback and reblogs mean THE WORLD to me, so feel free to show some love and as always please be kind!

***I do not give permission to copy, plagiarize, or repost my work as your own in any form!

There is a growing unrest inside you.

Days have passed since your encounter with Namor after saving the life of his general, Namora. Two mysterious strangers who have left your mind reeling with questions, unrelenting and unquenchable as a flame that dares to spread like wildfire, consuming your thoughts entirely.

You repeatedly play the memory over in your head with no rational way to explain what you witnessed; her blue skin, his superhuman strength; the curious metal that outfitted both of their armor; how they disappeared into the vast open ocean.

"Something on your mind?" A fruit vendor asks, snapping you back to reality. You stand in the middle of the bustling village marketplace, doing your best to orient yourself quickly.

“Your head is — how you say…? — in the clouds, yes?” The vendor asks in her best English, smiling politely at you as she stands next to her cart, eager for you to buy something.

"Is it that obvious?" You joke with a tired laugh. "Two, please."

You scoop up a pair of fresh mangos and hand the woman some change from your pocket. She kindly accepts it with a nod of appreciation. Carefully sliding the fruit into your bag, you return a nod of your own.

You continue to walk through the market, the damp air carrying an aroma of local cuisine and sweat fills your lungs. Weaving your way in and out of aisles created by vendor carts, you feel a sense of calm as you watch the locals interacting with one another. There's beauty to be found in their sense of community.

Typically, you would gather your needed food and supplies and then be on your way back home, but today as your mind wanders, so do your feet.

Meandering down another aisle, your thoughts drift back to Namor, specifically the morning you found him on your front porch. You can practically feel the warmth of that sunrise as you imagine its light illuminating his dark eyes. You picture the smile that pulled at the corners of his mouth when you asked him if he would come back, a moment you hold onto tightly. The memory gives you optimism that you will see him again someday and hopefully have the opportunity to ask him more questions.

Lost in thought, you hardly notice a small crate sticking out a few inches further than other accompanying carts in the aisle. Tripping your foot as you walk by, it nearly tumbles you to the ground. You manage to catch your balance and your breath before face-planting into the dirt. Immediately turning to apologize, you find an elderly man seated behind the crate, his back leaning against the wagon behind him and his eyes shut.

The man is slender and his head bald, save for a few wisps of hair above his ears. Most of his body is covered by a knitted green poncho, well-worn and fraying along the hem. To both your relief and surprise, he seems completely undisturbed by your clumsy collision with his crate of goods. Unsure if he’s even awake, you reach down to help reset any items on the crate you may have displaced.

Your jaw drops slightly as you see the contents on display. Spread out on a velvet brown tablecloth sits a small assortment of beautiful books, scrolls, and other documents. Admiring them, you reach out and push back one of the scrolls, revealing a gorgeous hand-sketched portrait of the island.

“Did you draw this?” You ask, impressed by the skill of it.

“Mmm,” He hums, shaking his head, "But I made very good trade with the man who did.”

You find his answer odd, though slightly amusing, considering he never opened his eyes to see which piece you were referring to. As you browse the rest of the items, a particular book stands out to you. It’s different from the rest of the collection — small and bound in leather, although the leather itself is worn and brittle-looking. You pick it up and inspect it closer. The binding is loose, the pages aged and tattered.

“Careful with that one. Very old.” The elderly man says, his eyes remaining shut. “Nearly 400 years. Got it in a trade with a visiting merchant from our southeastern sister islands."

How does he even do that? You wonder as you start delicately flipping through the pages of the book. You make it about midway through when you open to a particular page that makes you freeze, your heart nearly jumping out of your throat. Your eyes widen as you bring the page closer to your face.

It’s a crude drawing — basic, two-dimensional, and very old like the man said, but the likeness is undeniable. Depicted is the figure of a man. He dawns a grand snake-like headpiece and is grasping a spear. His body is adorned with jade and other metals. Sharp ears. Winged ankles.

"Excuse me!” you ask the elderly man with an exasperated breath, practically jumping over the crate as you lean forward and shout, “These!" You flip the book around to show him the open page, pointing excessively at the picture and the glyphs below it. "What do these say?!"

Your voice is eager and desperate, emotions you hardly try to hide.

The man's left eye slowly squints open.

“Only few are still legible.” He says, shrugging.

“Okay, yes, but the ones you can read, what do they say?!” You plead.

He sighs, opening his other eye and leaning forward slightly to get a better look. After a moment, he leans back against the wagon and closes his eyes again.

"King. Serpent. God. Monster."

You hang on to each word he tells you. Turning the book back around, you bring it back up to your face for another closer inspection.

"How much?" You ask, ready to make a deal.

The elderly man cracks one eye open to look at you for a moment as he considers his price, then wordlessly points to your arm with a feeble finger. You follow his gaze down to the small beaded bracelet around your wrist — the last reminder of your life before coming to the island. You hold your arm up to him, making sure you understand correctly. He nods politely, and without hesitation, you untie the bracelet and toss it to him.

"Nice doing business!" He says with a wide grin as he holds up the bracelet. You are already nose-deep in the book as you turn on your heels, quickening your pace as you head home where you can study more carefully.

Maneuvering your way out of the market to the outskirts of the village, you hardly need your eyes to guide your feet home. You take advantage of the remaining daylight to examine the pages as you walk, turning page after page and scanning for any information about Namor and his people. There’s little there, the book seeming to be a very old, mingled account of island history and lore. Seeing as you are not a historian and certainly not a linguist, it’s difficult to decipher. Still, you do your best to piece together what you can from the pictures.

King. Serpent. God. Monster.

The sky begins to dim. You can hear the faint roar of waves as you near the coastline. It’s too dark to see much detail on the pages now, so you carefully tuck the book into your bag as you step over the trunks of palm trees. The path beneath your feet gradually turns from brush to sand, and soon you find yourself walking along the familiar stretch of beach that leads you home. You stare out into the darkness, listening to the rhythmic pattern of ocean waves and breathing in the salty evening air. The moon hovers above the water, burning brightly as countless stars paint the sky behind it.

You continue walking in the darkness, but there’s an uneasiness building in your gut the further you go. You should be nearing home by now, but no lanterns have come into view. You always light lanterns before heading into town. They burn for hours in your absence so, by the time you return, you have light to guide you. All you see now are shadows and silhouettes that dance against the tree line, and every sound and indiscernible movement has you on edge.

It’s not until you are nearly a stone's throw away that the bungalow materializes in the night. Your stomach twists as the wind blows by you, rustling your hair and causing the snuffed-out lanterns hanging from your porch to creak as they swing back and forth. You hear shuffling, and small beams of light sporadically shine through the cracks of lumber that make up the walls of your home.

There is someone inside.

An alarm goes off in your head, screaming at you to get out. As quietly as possible, you begin backing away. Eyes fixed on the bungalow, you take one step back. Then another. Then another. Then — thud.

Your stomach flips and your throat tightens. While you pray you’ve miscalculated and miraculously made it to the tree line in three short steps instead of thirty, you feel the unmistakable presence of a body directly behind you.

“Going somewhere?” A deep voice growls menacingly. It belongs to a man, his tone gruff, although you can’t quite make out his accent. You do, however, feel the blood drain from your face as you slowly turn your head, finding what is quite possibly the largest human being you have ever seen. Dressed in black military-grade tactical gear and armed with enough ammo and firepower to take on a small army, you know there is no fucking way you are getting away from this guy.

The man grabs your arm and forcefully drags you toward the bungalow. Once up the stairs, he pushes you inside and releases his grasp. You rub your arm and look up to find another man standing in your kitchen, his back turned away from you as he stands hunched over your table. He’s dressed in similar tactical gear and has a walkie-talkie hooked to his belt. A lantern burns next to him as he seems to be pouring over some sort of map.

“Sir,” the man behind you bellows.

The man at the table straightens his posture and turns around to face you both. His hair is buzzed and his face is stubbly, with a thick prominent mustache that stretches across his upper lip. He seems a bit older, and by the ‘sir’ formality, you are fairly confident he is in charge.

“Ah, we were wondering when you would be back.” He says in a sly tone, his accent American.

“Who the hell are you? What are you doing in my house?” You respond in anger to the unwelcome visitor.

The man takes a sweeping look around the place, then his eyes come back to you.

“I think we can agree that “house” is a bit of a loose term.” He responds with sarcasm, a knowing look on his face. You continue to stare him down, unresponsive to his quip. The man loosens his shoulders and smiles at you. “Where are my manners? Agent Barrett.” He reaches his hand out, offering to shake yours.

You don’t move a muscle.

There is an awkward moment of silence, then Agent Barrett’s hand retreats. He turns, beginning to pace around your tiny kitchen. The room is in rougher shape than usual, clearly ransacked by whatever search was conducted before your arrival. The agent picks up a small roll of gauze from off the counter and holds it up.

“Tell me,” he says, inspecting the bandage material closely, “have you had any visitors recently?” His gaze quickly flicks over to you, an eyebrow raised.

Your pulse quickens as your blood turns to ice. Your mind immediately flashes to Namora floating wounded in the water; to Namor breaking down your door; to the two of them disappearing into the night. You put on your best poker face and shake your head.

“There’s no one around here for miles,” you explain, trying to be as convincing as possible. “You should try more inland towards the village. Most tourists, if any, stick closer to town or retreat to the far side of the island where—“

“Oh, she’s no tourist.” Agent Barrett chuckles, cutting you off. It feels insulting as if your suggestion were so preposterous it was borderline humorous.

She. He is looking for Namora.

Setting the gauze down next to the sink, Agent Barrett turns and walks over to you.

“You’re certain you haven’t seen anybody unusual around here in the past few days?”

He’s standing much closer now. Something about him makes your skin crawl. You eye the gun strapped to his hip and doubt it is for self-defense. Again, you shake your head.

Barrett sighs and gives you a disappointed smile.

“Okay.” He says softly while nodding his head. He backs away from you as the room lingers in silence. You allow yourself to take a breath, but the relief is short-lived. “Looks like we’re doing this the hard way.”

On Barrett’s cue, the large man behind you grabs your shoulder and kicks the back of your legs, dropping you hard to your knees. With his free hand, he yanks the bag off your other shoulder and tosses it to another man who emerges from the doorway to your bedroom. He catches the bag and immediately starts rummaging through it.

“Hey—HEY!” You shout, “What the hell are you—“

“A woman!” Barrett yells. “Pale blue skin. Very skilled swimmer. Four days ago, she single-handedly took down three UN-sanctioned vessels in the middle of the goddamn Atlantic! Three! Now where I’m from,” he crouches down to your level, aggressively getting in your face as he drops his voice lower, “that’s what we call an act of terrorism.”

Adrenaline overtakes your body as you feel your heart beat so intensely it threatens to break right out of your chest. From the corner of your eye, you watch as Barrett’s henchman searches your bag. He pulls out the mangos and tosses them on the floor. Then, he grabs the old leather-bound book. Turning it over in his hand, he looks at it for a moment and tucks it into his belt.

“She was wounded,” Barrett continues, calling your attention back to him, “and our intelligence indicates she washed up somewhere along this shoreline. That's where her trail goes cold. And as you said, there's no one around here for miles. No one, except you."

His implication is obvious.

“This woman, where is she?” He makes a last-ditch effort to convey a friendly tone, but you can hear his patience dwindling. "And please don't make me ask again."

You stare at him coldly, lips sealed together. You’re not telling this man a damn thing.

"Mmmm," is all he grunts, his eyes dropping to the ground. He heaves a heavy sigh as he pushes against his knees to stand up. Once on his feet, Agent Barrett stares at you for another moment before nodding his head to the agent behind you. The next thing you know, you are suddenly being pulled up by your hair, the man’s grip tight against the back of your neck as he turns and pushes you out the door.

Your hands clamor to his as you struggle against him to relieve the painful tension pulling on your scalp, attempting to release his grip on you. But the man is too strong and drags you down the stairs of your porch with ease. You make it a few meters down the shore when he shoves you down to your knees. Your legs make divots in the sand as your hands catch the rest of your body’s momentum. Hunched over, your knees and palms sting from the sand's friction.

You immediately tense up as you feel a gun press against your head, the cool metal barrel hungry to fire. Hearing footsteps approaching behind, you quickly swallow your fear to maintain composure. Agent Barrett walks past, turning to position himself directly in front of you again — only this time, he doesn’t crouch down to your level.

“Look at me.” He demands as he towers over you. His body language makes it clear who is in control. In the only act of defiance you have left in your arsenal, you keep your gaze laser-focused on the water straight ahead of you, refusing to give in to his instruction. Growing impatient, Barrett roughly grabs your chin. He clasps it tightly as he yanks your jaw upward, forcing you to make eye contact with him.

“You’re going to tell me about your friend, and you’re going to tell me where she is, right now," he growls.

You stare at him, disdain in your eyes. You momentarily scan your surroundings and count nearly twenty other men on the beach now. It’s enough to make your gaze and your heart sink straight to the ground.

Even if you wanted to tell him, you don't have the answers Barrett is looking for. His face hardens as your lack of cooperation and unwillingness to talk becomes clearer and clearer. Loosening his grip and dropping your chin, Agent Barrett looks at the agent next to you.

“Do it,” he orders, leaving you without another word as he walks back up the beach toward the bungalow.

The gun presses even harder against your temple and you hear the irrefutable sound of it being cocked as a bullet rolls into the chamber. Your heart is heavy as your eyes begin to well with tears. You stare out at the ocean, the night swallowing the horizon save it for the piercing glow of the moon that cuts its way through the sky down to Earth. It’s a better view than most get in their final moments, you suppose. For that, you consider yourself lucky.

Time seems suspended as you feel the ocean breeze blow past you, pouring over your skin and filling your lungs as you deeply inhale these final moments. You savor the way the salty air envelops you like the comforting embrace of an old friend. Squeezing your eyes shut, you try fighting back the tears. Despite your best efforts, one single drop escapes, racing down your cheek as you accept your fate.

Zzzzziiinnng!

Where you expect to hear the split-second ring of a gun firing before getting your brain blasted out the side of your skull, you instead hear a high-pitched whistling through the air and the unmistakable slice of a blade penetrating flesh. The weight of the gun barrel against your head slides limply away, followed by the thud of a body hitting the ground next to you.

Your eyes shoot open. You turn to see your executioner now lying dead on his back with a spear pelted through his chest. Your eyes widen in fear, then settle on the spear itself. A spear you recognize — because it’s the same one that was held to your throat only a few days earlier.

Namor.

He's here. Desperately your eyes search the ocean line, scouring the darkness for him.

"We're under attack!" Someone yells frantically from behind you. It is one of Barrett’s men.

"Open Fire! Open fire!" Another one shouts.

You immediately abandon your search for Namor, hitting the deck and covering your head as dueling bullets and spears fly over you. Hearing anguished cries from both sides, you peek out from over your arm and watch in horror as an agent a few meters away looks down at their dart-ridden chest. They drop to their knees, then fall forward onto their face.

Your head whirls around at the sound of another spear making contact with a body and dropping it to the ground. This agent is about ten meters away from you, and while your first instinct is to get the hell out of there — run as far as you can as fast as you can — you notice your little leather-bound book tucked into the belt of the lifeless body.

You tell yourself to leave it. You plead with yourself to leave it.

“Damn it,” you mutter in frustration to yourself. You are getting that book.

Before you can give it another thought, you are already army-crawling through the sand. The sound of gunfire rings in your ears as more weapons return their fire. You scramble to the body, staying low to the ground on your chest and abdomen. Once there, you reach out and grab the book, wrangling it free from the deceased man's belt. You shove it into your waistband when something behind you explodes, causing you to duck your head and shield yourself with your arms.

The battle is deafening and disorienting. The mix of adrenaline and shock threatens to override your entire system as you try to maintain your focus.

Keep moving, you tell yourself.

You lift your head, ready to run, but your breath catches and you freeze. Mere inches from your face, you find yourself staring at someone’s feet and feel the presence of their body hovering over you. You brush the stinging sand out of your eyes, pleading in your mind that this is not the end. Not now. As your vision sharpens, you feel a surge of hope. There in front of you are two winged ankles.

Your eyes shoot up. Standing above you, illuminated by the light of the moon and the rapid sparks of machine guns firing, is Namor.

He looks down at you, his stare intense as his nostrils flare and his chest rises and falls with each breath. Gripping the hilt of the spear, he effortlessly removes it from the body next to you with one pull, his eyes never leaving yours. The ongoing battle on the beach doesn’t deter his attention from you in the slightest. From behind him, a handful of armed warriors with pale blue skin come storming out of the ocean.

“Namora!” He calls, and one warrior immediately splits off from the group. While the others continue to push the team of agents to the far side of the beach, the general comes to Namor’s side and your eyes widen as you take her in. Almost unrecognizable from when you first met her, Namora is a sight to behold. Instead of weak and wounded, she now stands strong and commanding, fully outfitted in her armor of woven jade and metal. Dazzling lionfish spines adorn her head and neck, and she wears the same mesh apparatus over her nose and mouth as before. You are astounded when you squint and barely see a seam remaining where you had stitched her up.

“K'uk'ulkan.” She answers, standing at attention.

Namor’s eyes are still fixed on you. He hands the retrieved spear to Namora and then nods in your direction.

You become nervous, suddenly uncertain if the pair of them have come to you as friend or foe, watching as Namora tightens her grip around the weapon.

“Go.” Namor urges, and a wave of relief washes over you. Friend.

“Where are my goddamn reinforcements?!!” You hear someone shout into a walkie-talkie. You recognize the voice as Agent Barrett's.

“Go NOW,” Namor commands, his eyes flicking up in Barrett’s direction. The expression on his face becomes menacing as he strides past you, his muscles rigid and his pace purposeful. He pulls his own spear out of the larger agent who nearly executed you as he walks past the body, arming himself.

Without hesitation, Namora strides forward and links her arm under your shoulder, pulling you up to your feet and yanking you quickly toward the trees. Before you can reach them, however, more men dressed in black combat gear come pouring out of the thick foliage, ready to attack.

Three surround you as the others rush to provide relief further down the beach. Instead of guns, these agents come armed with batons and other blunt weapons. Namora whips you back behind her, placing herself between you and the approaching enemy. She walks toward the agents, rotating her spear in her hand. You’re surprised by how relaxed her posture is as she waits for the men, each one at least twice her size, to make the first move.

The agent to her right makes the first advance, lunging forward at Namora. She meets him with speed and ferocity, quickly sidestepping him only to grab hold of his shoulders. She uses them as an anchor to whirl herself around him, gracefully landing and her feet and then lodging her spear into his back. The man cries out in pain, but Namora quickly delivers the final blow as she twists the spear in deeper and shoves it upward toward his lungs.

No sooner does his body hit the ground when the two other men charge at her. Like a beautifully choreographed dance, Namora drops to her knees, sliding across the sand between them to duck under their attacks. As she does so, she nimbly summersaults back onto her feet and turns one hundred and eighty degrees. Back on the attack, she runs hard at them. You watch as Namora delivers a combination of charged punches to one agent, then springs back to avoid the swing of the baton from the other. To counter the move, she kicks the man above the kneecap with so much power it sends his whole leg backward and brings him to his knees. She grabs the sides of his head with both of her hands, thrusting it down hard against her knee. You feel the grisly sound of blunt broken bone deep in your core as his skull makes contact.

As the man’s head reels backward, blood pouring from his face, Namora seamlessly transitions between her two opponents, avoiding another attack from the third agent she had previously deflected with punches. Her attention back on him, she trades blows as they fight in more hand-to-hand combat. Between kicks, punches, and counter-punches, Namora strategically inches herself backward until she’s practically standing on top of the first body she dropped. Baiting her current opponent forward, she taunts him with the tilt of her head, exaggerated by her headpiece. It works like a charm. He charges at her, and swooping under him, she wraps around his chest and pulls him over the top of her, flipping him onto his back. In one calculated motion, she pulls her spear from the body of the first agent which is now easily within reaching distance, and drives it into the second.

It all plays out in front of you so quickly when the third agent with the broken nose — well, broken face, really — groans as he gets himself up, ready to have another go at Namora. She engages, but as she moves towards him you see a fourth man emerge from the trees, raising a gun to shoot.

“LOOK OUT!” You yell to warn her, but pure instinct has your feet sprinting forward to stop him.

You don’t process any thought or consider any tactic, you just hurl yourself at him. The two of you collide, crashing to the ground with all the power and momentum you can muster. You scramble for his gun and manage to knock it away, but he barrels you over him and slams your back against the ground. The impact forces the air out of your lungs, temporarily paralyzing you as you struggle for breath. The agent straddles your body, putting more pressure on your chest as he pulls a knife from his hip. With all your strength, you fight to hold his arm back. He breaks through your grasp and takes a swipe at you, but reflexively you deflect it away with your hand. The knife slices open your palm and you cry out as you try to continue pushing his arms back.

When he raises his blade again, a blur of orange lionfish spines come streaking across as Namora flies over the back of the agent and yanks him off of you. They tumble across the sand, but she quickly gains the upper hand by entangling him in a headlock. Clutching your injured hand and still struggling for oxygen, you look on as she tightens her grip around the man’s neck and then abruptly cracks it to the side.

The sound makes you sick to your stomach, but you also feel a sense of relief. And gratitude. Your chest heaves as you finally start to catch your breath, your entire body buzzing. You turn to see the dead agents Namora has so quickly disposed of, their bodies dispersed across the sand. She unwraps herself from her most recent kill and makes her way to you with haste.

As she reaches you, you hear the chaos and fighting continue further down the beach. Then, the faint sound of a helicopter approaching. Barrett’s reinforcements.

“There are too many of them,” you say in distress as you witness more agents pour out onto the sand to fight Namor’s warriors. Even if each one had Namora’s four-to-one kill ratio, they are still outnumbered. As the chopper blades get louder, Namora looks at you intensely, reaching out her hand.

“Come,” she insists.

She’s gotten you this far. You grasp her hand without hesitation and she pulls you to your feet. You edge closer to the tree line where you hope safety and concealment await you, but as you reach the lush landscape something pricks your ears. It’s not gunfire. It’s not the chopper.

Namora tugs your arm as she tries to usher you into the trees, but your focus is elsewhere. A faint, melodic breeze moves past you like a ghost, causing your mind to become hazy. As the sound grows louder, an indescribable melody rings in your ears that is both euphoric and dreadful. You don’t even notice the tension of Namora’s grip on your hand increase as your feet redirect you toward the water, compelled by its call.

“No!” Namora yells at you as she yanks your arm. The force of it snaps your attention back for a moment, and you watch as the agents who line the beach suddenly cease fighting and instead walk undeterred paths straight into the water. Terror fills you as they wade further and further out, the water coming up to their knees, then their hips, then their chests, until they are completely submerged underneath.

You shoot a glance to Namora, petrified and confused. Whatever is happening, she seems unaffected. Your thoughts and vision begin to cloud again, and you feel like someone else is controlling your body as the ocean summons you along with the others. Every part of you feels entranced by the chorus of voices in the air as their notes overwhelm your senses and leave you disoriented. Namora grabs you, practically throwing you over her shoulder as she runs into the trees. You become hard to carry, so she pulls you both into the cove of a sheltered root system at the edge of the foliage. Huddling next to you, Namora tightly wraps her arms around your head to cover your ears with her hands.

Pupils dilated, you desperately try to hold onto any shred of active consciousness before giving in entirely to the song. Your mind becomes infiltrated by it and begins to process what you see in pieces; men in the water, drowning themselves; gunfire raining down from the night sky; Namor, spear in hand, leaping into the air, taking impossible strides toward a chopper; the chopper spinning out of control.

You feel the heat against your face as the chopper crashes to the ground, exploding on impact. The last thing you remember seeing is Namor in the distance, standing on the sand. Illuminated by the raging inferno that burns behind him from the destroyed chopper, he is fierce, incredible, and terrifying.

A god. A monster.

The haunting chorus melody continues to consume your mind. Even with Namora’s help, you feel your body shift as it involuntarily attempts to get up. Namora squeezes her palms over your ears with even more strength and restrains your movements.

"No." She whispers fiercely.

You squeeze your eyes shut, covering your hands over Namora's as tightly as possible. Blood pours from your hand down hers, trickling onto your shoulder. The noise is too much, and as you feel yourself begin to scream, everything goes black.

——

Your feet drag through the cool sand.

That’s the first thing you see when you finally become conscious again. Your head hangs low in front of you, pounding as it bobs up and down. It’s still dark out, but you find your home lit up by more lanterns as you approach the pathway to your porch.

You glance to your right and left, discovering you are being assisted by two people on either side of you — Namora on your right and a much taller blue-skinned man on your left. His shoulders are wide and his head is outfitted with an armored hammerhead skull. Arms slung around both of their necks, your body is in a state of pure exhaustion as they get you up the stairs to the door.

As you start to step with your own feet, they are alerted by your recovered consciousness. Quickly, the man unhooks your arm from around him, steadying you against Namora. He retreats as you find yourself gaining feeling back in your body. Namora patiently waits for you to get your bearings, and when you do she opens the front door for you, ushering you to go inside. You follow her instruction, and there waiting for you in the bungalow is Namor.

Namor stands against your kitchen counter, the same place you stood when he first came crashing into your home. His arms are folded across his broad chest. Although his head is down, his eyes are flicked upward toward you, watching your every move. The flame of a lantern on the table glints off his irises, illuminating the dark stare that hovers just below his furrowed brow.

“Please, sit.” He says with a stern voice, his open palm gesturing toward a chair at the table.

As you sit down, you hear the front door close behind you.

Silence.

"Those men," he finally says, pushing himself away from the counter as he stands up straighter, “they were seeking information?"

You only nod, afraid to say too much.

“It’s safe to speak here. I’ve made sure of it.” He promises, sensing your reluctance to engage in conversation.

“They wanted to know about Namora." You answer cautiously.

Namor's expression grows even more serious. He subtly shifts his weight from side to side before settling back into the center of his powerful stance.

"And even with your life on the line, you said nothing."

You are unsure if he is making a statement or a question.

"Why?" He asks through a clenched jaw.

"Why?" You repeat back to him, caught off guard by the question. "Does it matter why?"

"Yes,” Namor says directly, raising his eyebrows. “Because I need to know if I put my spear through the right person.”

The seriousness of his statement hits you like a brick. Your mind flashes back to the beach, you on your knees with a gun to your head as Namor’s spear plows its way through the man next to you. How easily, you wonder, could he have changed his aim by just a few degrees if you had decided to open your mouth and spill what little information you did know to those men?

As you think about it, you also begin to ask yourself why. Why did you keep your mouth shut? Why did you help Namor and his people?

You take a deep breath as you consider your reasons, then lift your gaze to him.

“You barged into my home, broke down my door, and threatened my life. But even then, the motives behind your actions were clear — the love and concern for your people. These men,” your eyes trail away as you feel a wave of anger build up inside, "these men were driven by self-interest and self-preservation. It wasn’t hard to choose a side.”

His face is stoic as he listens to your answer.

“Plus,” you add, “I promised you I wouldn’t say anything. Twice.”

Namor looks at you the same way he did the night you met him. The look that tells you he is debating whether or not you are telling the truth. You are a witness testifying on the stand, and Namor is your judge and jury.

“Well, that is twice now you have saved my people. Again you have my gratitude." He says with a sigh, his expression softening.

You give a small smile, but it disappears when an unrelenting ache pounds inside your head, pulling you out of the moment. You reach up to rub your temple and suddenly feel a surge of pain coming from your hand, instantly reminding you of the injury you sustained from your face off against one of the agents on the beach.

“Shit,” You exclaim, pulling your cut, bloodied palm away from your face and looking at it.

"Here," Namor says, grabbing the roll of gauze off your kitchen counter as he moves in your direction. Pulling up a chair, he sits down directly in front of you so your knees are practically touching. He gestures for your hand. “May I?"

You consider his offer as you stare at the thick veins protruding from his forearm, binding themselves to his defined muscles like vines around a tree. Eyes darting back up to his, you cautiously nod your head to accept his help while simultaneously extending your arm to him.

Namor takes your injured hand gently in his own, cradling it as if it could shatter into a million pieces. Amazed by how his hand dwarfs yours, you feel a surge of energy in your chest when his thumb begins to rub along your wrist. He takes the roll of gauze and begins carefully wrapping it around your palm.

Calmly maneuvering each layer of the bandage, Namor's brow furrows ever so slightly as he slips deeper into a state of concentration. His grasp is firm but gentle, rotating your hand in tandem with the bandage and you take comfort in his touch.

Studying his face, you admire each feature and detail closely. You see the traces of salt against the rich tones of his skin, and soon your willpower gives way to a desire slowly being coaxed inside you as you allow your eyes to trail from his face to his broad shoulders, down his muscular biceps, and finally to his strong hands as they work to take care of you.

Namor begins humming softly as he continues wrapping your hand. There's a warm timbre in his voice that resonates in your ears, drawing your gaze back up to his face.

"That song..." your voice trails off as you grow more entranced by it, unable to find the words to describe its intoxicating melody. But a surge of fear runs through you as you recall another tune, the one from the beach, its haunting cadence prickling the back of your mind.

"My people have many songs," Namor says in a tone equally rich to his humming, calming you instantly. "Each one with a meaning and purpose."

"What is the purpose of that one?" You ask quietly.

Namor’s hands stop as his eyes wander up to yours.

"It's a lullaby, meant to bring the soul peace." His eyes flutter back down as he resumes wrapping the bandage around your hand. "My mother would sing it to me when I was a child."

"It's beautiful." You say reverently.

A smile spreads across Namor's face, but there's a hint of sadness in it. He leans down to your hand and you can feel your heart beat faster as his mouth hovers mere inches above your skin. The warmth of his breath rushes against your wrist, sending shivers through you. With great care, he tears the gauze with his teeth before tucking the loose end into a fold of the bandage.

"It is," he agrees, staring down at your hand which he now holds carefully between his own. "Especially in a world where peace is scarcely found."

His voice is gentle, but there is a bitterness brewing beneath the statement.

"I have spent my life ensuring peace for my people. Protecting it. Preserving it."

Namor looks back up at you, letting go of your hand as he sits up straighter in his chair. The room is quiet as his words sink in and you drop your gaze to think. As you do so, your good free hand migrates to the leather book still tucked in your waistband, your fingers fiddling with the binding.

“What is it?” Namor asks, snapping your eyes back up to his. You swallow nervously, unsure if you should share what is on your mind. Then again, you may not get another opportunity.

Slowly, you pull the book out from against your side, opening it to its marked page before pushing it across the table to him.

“You say you’ve spent your entire life protecting your people.” You preface, hesitating a moment before asking your question. “Is that... you?"

Namor stares at the book in front of him, tracing the outline of his likeness delicately on the open page with his fingertips.

"A version of me." He answers.

"How...." you rub your temple as you do the unnecessary math in your head, already knowing the hundreds of years difference between the book and the man in front of you doesn't add up. "How is that even possible? That book is centuries old, I mean," you are at a loss trying to wrap your head around it all, coming up short with any logical explanation, “who are you?"

Namor looks up at you, then his gaze descends back onto the open book. He gives a sad smirk.

“You are one of very few to ever ask who I am instead of what I am." He strokes his jaw with his thumb and forefinger. "The answer to neither of which will be found in your book." He says, shutting it and sliding it back toward you. You reach for it, only he doesn’t take his hand off the leather cover right away.

"You must always be weary of your authors.” He warns. “The preservation of one's opinion over time does not make it fact, no matter how long ago it was written."

He relinquishes his hold, you finish sliding the book back to your side of the table. Namor searches your face as his eyebrows pull closer together, a rare look of vulnerability in his eyes.

"I wear the mantle of king and am the protector of my people.” He begins. “They are my responsibility by birthright, a charge I’ve dedicated my entire life to upholding.”

Namor proceeds to tell you the story of his people — how they were driven from their home by Spanish conquistadors, and how their gods provided a remedy for a foreign disease that led them to seek sanctuary in the ocean itself. He explains that his mother was among them, pregnant with Namor at the time, and how the remedy herb altered his very being in the womb. Mutant is the word he uses, the reason for his strength and abilities, as well as his slow aging. He then describes the horrors he had seen upon returning his mother’s body to the surface world after her death, and the vow he took to keep outsiders away from his people and his beloved city he calls Talokan.

"So you see," he says leaning forward as he places his forearms on his knees, his face even closer to yours now, "I am no god. Nor am I a man. What I am is a leader who loves his people. If that makes me a monster, so be it. I will see the world burn before I subject my people to its sins and savagery.”

It’s a lot to take in. You study Namor’s expression as his stare now lingers away from you, his mind somewhere in the past. You can’t even begin to comprehend all that he has seen or experienced, but you do feel a clearer understanding of why he is the way he is. Filled with compassion for him, you cautiously reach up and cradle his face with your non-bandaged hand.

"You're not a monster." You reassure him gently.

This brings Namor’s attention back to you immediately, his dark eyes searching your face earnestly as he takes a deep breath through his nose. The bristles of his scruff are rough against your palm, creating a warm friction when he leans into your touch. Namor closes his eyes and lets out a sigh so deep it's as if he's releasing a weight from his shoulders, one that he has been carrying for far too long. His hand comes up to cover yours, pressing it deeper against his cheek.

“K’uk’ulkan,” a voice calls from behind you. You drop your hand back down to your lap as Namor glances over your shoulder. The man with the metal hammerhead skull stands at attention in the front doorway, his body so large it consumes the space entirely. Namor nods at him, then looks back at you.

"It's time," he says, pushing himself up to his feet. “More men will be coming. Namora is outside — collect what you need quickly, she will take you to a safe place.”

The realization sets in, and your heart sinks. Your home is no longer safe and you can’t stay here.

Namor offers you his hand, helping you out of your chair and onto your feet. In doing so, he pulls you into him and tucks his hand delicately under your chin. He’s impossibly close as he tilts your face upward toward his own.

"I am sorry." He whispers, a soft and apologetic tone in his voice. He gives you a remorseful look, but all you can think about is how little space currently exists between his lips and yours. Namor’s gaze flutters down from your eyes to your mouth, but the moment is fleeting as he drops his hand from your chin and takes a step back.

“Go.” He says, encouraging you to get your things. It’s his last word before walking past you and exiting out the front door.

Left alone in the empty bungalow, you make your way over to your bag still on the floor from earlier that evening. You take it and march into your room, grabbing some clothes, your toothbrush, and other small essentials. You don't have much in terms of possessions in the first place, so it doesn’t take long for you to collect what you need.

As you exit your bedroom, you get ready to leave when you look over at the small book on your table. Namor insisted it held no answers for you, but you go to retrieve it anyway, stuffing it in your bag along with the rest of your belongings.

You take one last look around your home, once an unfamiliar broken place that over time became your haven and sanctuary. It breaks your heart to leave, but you know you must.

“Thank you,” you quietly whisper to the room, hoping in some way its energy or spirit or anything can hear you. You make your final exit, walking out to the front porch just as the dawn is starting to break over the horizon. Warm hues cast shadows of orange and red across the island, and you breathe in the early morning air. As you look out across the beach, you are surprised by what little evidence remains of the night’s events. No bodies. No fires. Just large divots in the sand and some smoke along the tree line from a few singed palms.

Namora is standing at the edge of the pathway leading to your porch, waiting for you. Descending the stairs, nerves prompt you to tighten your grip on the shoulder strap of your bag as you brace yourself for the unknown.

“I’m ready,” you say when you reach her.

Namora looks at you seriously, then nods her head. Reaching up to her face, she carefully removes the apparatus from over her nose and mouth. It is the first time you have seen her whole face, unobstructed by the peculiar covering. She’s just as striking without it, and you notice a beautiful jade ring pierced through her septum, echoing Namor’s. She turns the mask in her hand and guides it onto your face, sealing it against your skin.

“Come,” she tells you, turning toward the ocean.

You take one last look back at your home, then fall into stride behind Namora as the two of you walk into the water.

-- -- --

Tag List (I think this is how you do it? Sorry if not, still figuring this whole Tumblr-thing out): @looneylikesbooks @omgsuperstarg @chixkencxrry @vainillasmil157 @demoiseller @sodonuthideout @shoutaaizawas @stany0url0calwh0res111 @hjjks @duckwithsunglasses

#namor #namor x reader #namor x you #namor x gen!reader #Namor x y/n #mcu namor #namor fluff #namor fanfiction #namor fanfic #namor imagine #k'uk'ulkan #black panther wakanda forever #namora #namor of talokan #Wakanda forever #fanfiction

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lynlmao · 7 months

Text

kisses, hugs & cuddles 🫂

cc!Quackity x f!Reader hcs [SFW/FLUFF]

a/n: NOT PROOFREAD, this is kinda just to dump my thoughts sooo,, enjoy ? also this is my first post in a long time, so sorry if it seems cluttered or unrealistic💀

KISSES

He puts chapstick on so his lips are soft

His kisses are either very affectionate, very sloppy, or both and I feel like when he’s really happy or excited or something like that(?) he kisses u multiple times/peppers kisses on ur face.

He’d be like “Omg cmere..*MUWWHAAAH PHMUAH MWUAHMWAMWAMWA*” like u can hear a pucker noise if that makes sense🤗 .

Sometimes u gotta push his face away from yours bcs you might be late or something and he’d just look at you with a pout on his face :(

(I personally would rather take the kisses and be late)

When u kiss him he’s like “😍☺️😏😚” yk?

I feel like if u wear lip balms/glosses then he would have a fav…sometimes he kisses u when u have lip gloss/balm to taste it and then he’d be like

“Babe…..can u wear that lip gloss/balm u we’re wearing last time”

Lets u kiss his face, neck, and/or hands with lipstick on and then posts it on his ig story with the caption “these are better than hickeys”

He’d still be into hickeys but I feel like he would want them to be in areas he could cover up.

Making out with him‼️

Again, it’s either romantic, or you guys just look like horny teenagers💀.

Ok, a lil off topic but I remember his qsmp elections stream with that mannequin at the start….And how he was gripping its hair😍

Anyways he definitely holds u by the hair or by the neck while making out. No questions asked.

Sometimes he’d be like: “Your *kiss* so *kiss* goddamn *kiss* PRETTY. *MUWAHH*”

Basically kisses for days.

Also pls kiss him back or you’ll make the poor boy go crazy.

HUGS/CUDDLES

His hugs are so sweet and I noticed that when he hugs ppl he does that light back rub thing☹️💗

when ur cooking something he sneaks up behind u and snuggles you (and maybe try and tickle u if he’s feeling like silly😭)

his hugs are super warm and comforting, especially when ur sad, I swear one big hug from him can literally make u go from 😭 to 🥲☺️

When u and him cuddle he’s a switch but I feel like you would probably be the big spoon cus he wants to lay his head on or in between ur boobs.

He finds it comforting the way you wrap your arms around him tightly, but not enough to suffocate him. The soft “badump” sound of your heart beat, your soft breathing, and the smell of your perfume.

At some point he just starts to get drowsier and falls asleep.

His head against ur chest + you running ur hand through his hair = literally heaven for him.

When he’s a big spoon, it’s probably in the morning when you’re about to get out of bed and get ready…Until you swiftly get pulled back into the comfy bed and all you hear is “no.”.

After a few failed attempts of escaping him, you finally give in but only for a few more minutes.

Sometimes when he’s the big spoon he likes when your both somewhat facing each other because he enjoys looking down on you, he thinks the way you look when u look up at him is adorable😭

idk how to explain it but it’s like taking a photo at an angle that makes ur eyes a little bit bigger and u just look cute like that🤷🏻‍♀️.

But if he ends up streaming and your already sleeping then hes the big spoon. Carefully pulling you closer to him with his hand on ur stomach while nuzzling his face into your hair, enjoying the scent of your shampoo.

Speaking of scent and cuddling he would also know when your using a new perfume🤗.

So basically this is what I imagine happening when he smells your new perfume:

*smelling u a lil* *Ooo are you using a different perfume?…what is this one called??

“[insert perfume name or whateva], why?”

“*literally full on inhaling all the perfume particles*…nothing.”

“…I know you have something to sa—“

“Can u PLEASE wear it more often? :33”

..…He would buy you an extra or two of the perfume u we’re using the next day.

On some special occasions, he’d let you straddle his lap and cuddle him while he’s working but sometimes he won’t if he’s extremely busy that day.

He also knows after a few kisses, it’s almost always gonna turn into a make out session☺️ (Or smth else..iykyk ig)

#QSMP quackity #quackity x reader #quackity headcannons #quackity blurb #qsmp #quackity imagine #quackity fanfic

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shadowdaddies · 6 months

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Hi!!! Can I request a f!reader x Eris where the reader is his secret mate and since he is stressfully sitting in her home, deep in the night, preparing reports and stuff like an gloomy ghost who haunts the place, she orders him to get some rest and gives him a massage?

omg Eris with a secret mate?! I’ve been obsessed with this request since I saw it. Is this a theory? Is there a longer fic about it? bc if not there needs to be. I’m obsessed with this idea, Eris having someone he can be himself around and open up to😭 I adore this request thank you for sending it in!💜

A/N: soft Eris 🥰

Autumn's Eden

Eris x Reader fluff

The moment you walked in the door to your home, a bright smile overtook your expression as you noticed the faelights on and the smell of apples and warm spices. Your mate was here, and that brought feelings of comfort that you had been missing since you saw him last. You and Eris kept your mating bond private, telling no one of your relationship. You were a “Lesser Fae,” as disapproving leaders of the Autumn Court would refer to you, so the two of you elected to keep your relationship a secret until Eris became High Lord.

Eris had great plans for how to make the Autumn Court a better place, but for now you both knew that he needed to play the game. He held a carefully maintained facade of cunning and ruthlessness, the former of which held true. Eris played his father like a practiced game of chess, waiting for the opportune moment to take down the cruel High Lord. Until then, the two of you would continue meeting in secret. While it was often painful to not be able to flaunt the male you were proud to call your mate, it made your reunions that much sweeter.

Eris most often would visit your home, staying with you when he needed time away from his brothers and father. He could only wear the mask of cruel Lord for so long, and you were thankful to be the one who was there for him when he needed your comfort. You set down the fruits and bread that you had brought home from the market, wandering into your bedroom where Eris sat hunched over your desk. He ran a hand through his red hair, which glowed like fire against the warm fae lights - and you stood in the doorway for a moment, memorizing his beautiful profile.

Sensing your presence, Eris looked up at where you were standing, giving you a soft smile that didn’t quite reach his bloodshot, tired eyes. Your heart ached seeing him like this, burnt out from the endless, brutal tasks his father bestowed upon him. He set down the papers he had been studying, turning to face you as he attempted to rub the exhaustion from his eyes. “Hi, my love,” Eris greeted you with a tired voice, gesturing for you to join him. You crossed the room, taking a seat on his lap as you wrapped your arms around his neck. One of his hands found the back of your neck, the other resting on your outer thigh, giving it a small squeeze as he leaned in to kiss you deeply. It was a slow, passionate kiss that had you breathless and flushed when you pulled away, resting your head against his shoulder.

You traced his sharp jawline with your fingertips, trying to ignore the fluttering feeling in your stomach that came just from looking at him. As if he could read your thoughts, Eris smirked, giving you a sidelong glance. Your cheeks flushed a deep red as you cleared your throat, sitting up to look at what he was working on. Nonsensical paperwork was stacked upon the desk, and you hummed as you feigned interest in the seemingly mundane tasks in which your mate found himself consumed.

You shifted on Eris’s lap, now facing him as you ran your hands through his hair, gently massaging his scalp. He let out a soft groan at the soothing feeling, his eyelids drooping as he relaxed in your hold. You leaned forward, biting his earlobe and whispered, “you need to relax, my love. Take a break.” Eris leaned back, eyeing you skeptically as you gave him a feline smile. Gracefully lifting yourself from his lap, you took his hand in yours as you guided him to stand.

You toyed with the buttons of his shirt, lightly pulling on the collar as you asked, “what about a massage? Let me take care of you tonight, Eris.” Eris took a deep breath, eyes roving over you appreciatively. He nodded, tongue flicking out over his lower lip as you removed his shirt. Looking over your shoulder as you moved towards the bathroom, you directed Eris, “lay on the bed. Face down.”

You returned to the room with aromatherapeutic oils, climbing over Eris to straddle his hips. You leaned down to press a kiss to his cheek before starting your work, lathering the oils over his back as you massaged him, focusing on spots where he held tension - which seemed to be everywhere. Eris fell asleep at some point, his soft snore eliciting a giggle from you as you continued your work on his muscles.

He awoke just as you finished, letting out a sound of contentment and sighed, “that was amazing, my love.” You ran a hand appreciatively through his hair as you again found yourself lost in his beauty. You whispered as you lifted yourself from the bed, “how about I get you into the bath and then I can make us some dinner?” Eris smiled, springing off the mattress with a cat-like grace as he returned to his playful self. Taking your hands in his, he pulled you flush against him and tilted your chin towards him. “Why don’t I grab some food for us, and you can join me in the bath?” You nodded, “that sounds like a much better plan.” With a quick kiss and a soft smack to your behind, Eris went to prepare the food, while you prepared for the rest of a special evening with the one you love.

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byunpum · 6 months

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imagine lo’ak being like 18-19 and neteyam being like 20 and tuk being 13-14-15 and they find out she’s being courted for the first time and go into overprotective big brother mode omg i just feel like that would be so cute i would die

Pair: Sully Siblings x siblings sister

Warning: None <3

AVATAR MASTERLIST

"No one should know about this, ok?" speaks lo'ak, shuffling his head with concern. "What? No!!!" neteyam whispers louder. Feeling lo'ak squeeze his arm to lower his voice. "Of course you do…we can't say anything to anyone" whispers lo'ak, as he feels someone lean on his shoulder.

"Know what?" you ask, That same day you were walking down a quiet path, of one of the islands of the metkayina clan. You were going to look for some fruits for your mother, neytiri. But at one corner, you see two little tails that look very much alike. Approaching carefully, you see your two brothers. One next to the other, close together, while spying on someone. You approach silently, listening to the conversation. What was the secret they didn't want anyone to know? And why couldn't you know it? Reaching over to lay your head on lo'ak's shoulder.

"Ahh-" lo'ak's startled scream is interrupted, when neteyam places his hand over his mouth. "shhhh quiet, we are spying on tuk" neteyam says, looking at you and pointing to the scene in front of them. Tuk was talking to a metkayina boy. They were laughing, and talking eywa knows what, but you didn't see the big deal.

"And?"You doubt the sanity of your brothers, you know they are crazy, but this worries you. Neteyam releases lo'ak, taking your arm to place you in the middle of the two of them, so that you have a better view.

You squint, seeing what was going on. Your jaw drops, when you see how tuk and that boy were grabbing each other's hands. "WHAT??" you yelp a little, but lo'ak pinches you. You whimper, sitting down on the ground. "'We have to do something? Tuk is too small for this kind of thing" you speak up. "I agree, we have to burn him" neteyam says, watching as you laugh to support him. Lo'ak pushes them a little. "Hey we can't do that, this is a very normal thing to do". Remember when I was meeting tsireya" says lo'ak…. … … "mmm no, I'll tell dad" says neteyam, starting to get up from the floor. When lo'ak sits him back down. "Be quiet… the best thing we can do is to see how things are going" lo'ak is more sympathetic in the situation, while neteyam and you were about to commit a disaster. "I think we'd better go and…" lo'ak is talking to neteyam who doesn't notice how his twin sister gets up from the floor.

"'Y/NNNNN" tuk's voice is heard, causing his siblings to look in her direction. Watching as Y/N pushes the boy into the sea, the boy falls over the edge of the woven walkway into the water. Y/n watches as he falls into the water, looks at tuk. Then looks at the water and at his brothers. Raising his hand, holding up thumb, making an 'all clear' sign. Neteyam copies her movements. "Target destroyed" says Y/n giving a military salute, before walking away from tuk. Leaving the girl speechless, while lo'ak wants to bury himself alive.

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yourgentlegirlfriend · 1 year

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Bro, infinite darkness Leon is plaguing my mind I’m being so fr rn. So my req is like DomInfiniteDarkness!Leon and like this reader who rlly sarcastic and bites back and shit like that and the plot is (porn 🫶 obvi) that he asks reader to ride his face (after a few days of sexual tension) and like she’s taken aback at first but then she’s like ‘he’s hot tho’ (not rlly I can’t think of a better response, u can choose) so she rides his face yeah, and he has this grip on her thighs that she can’t even try squirming away

And omg, there should be like this one part when he’s eating her and like she grips his hair and he goes feral and sucks harshly as a motion to continue the grip on his hair, also the stubble that he has should like graze her poussay and like she clenches bc of it and Leon notices 😮‍💨🤭🤭

Leon just gives pussy-eater vibes, is it jus me? 😭 anyways in not asking this anonymously bc I need this shit so bad

If u wrote anything similar, I’m sorry 😭 😭

Tyyyy ♥️♥️♥️🫶🫶🫶🫶

( I had to, he’s so fine)

ID Leon is a plague in my mind he never goes away. I was actually writing a request super similar to this so i hope the other person who requested this sees this!! I honestly don’t think it’s that good but i try my hardest FOR YOU GUYS. I made the reader plus size deal with it and if you hate it so much just block it out with your mind okay because i needed to write a lil something for me in this one. Sorry i haven’t been posting much writing i hit little blocks sometimes and feel like my writing sucks but nothing a little sleep couldn’t fix!

Disclaimer!!! This blog is 18+ only! If you are underaged please don’t interact with my posts thank you!!

mentions of afab slighty plus size reader x ID Leon!!

Warnings: Angsty kinda! Mentions of yelling, holding guns and close to death experiences. Leon forces reader to sit on his face, he’s kinda rough with her

word count: 2,826

Heavy. Your arm hanging from the metal that had been broken not even seconds before. Though you and Leon had far to many disagreements he was still your partner. Just the way his head tilted up and his hand gripped at your wrist you knew he was so angry that you would throw yourself so close to death just to save him. The metal beneath you made a loud creaking noise as you gripped at Leon's hand, your other arm folding over to pull him up onto the platform with you.

“You have a death wish?”

Leon yelled as he tried to carefully crawl up next to you as you let go of his arm. You leaned back on your arms, catching your breath, your eyes followed Leon standing up, his hand reaching down to help you off the floor.

“That must’ve really bruised your ego huh, kennedy.”

Mascara caked a bit under your eyes due to all the running and the tank of water exploding all over you. Your hips swayed side to side as you put your hand up waving goodbye to Leon, yelling something about how you’d see him next week.

——-

Leon’s jaw tightened watching your hips sway, the way your soaked shirt clung to your body. You were his rookie once, he trained you from the ground up. Once your promotion hit you never let Leon talk down to you again, and he hated it. Snarky comments about his aim, about the way he talks, how he looks in his suits.

His body screamed at him for relief, preferably whiskey. The bar was quiet and he couldn’t help but thank the god he didn’t necessarily believe in. His fingers traced over the rim of his glass in front of him. The man had too much trauma, a troubling past and current that just weighed on him so heavily that it made everything he does difficult.

“I knew I’d find you here.”

Your silky voice snapped him from his day dreaming, his chin tilting down as his eyes traced every dip and curve of your body before he brought the glass to his lips, the liquid stinging his throat as he tilted the glass against his mouth. You wore that pretty black dress you had been wearing back in Grahamas office, but of course you had to change when actual shit started to go down. It hugs your hips and thighs so good, your plush legs crossing over each other as you sat down staring at your partner.

“You okay?”

For once you seemed genuinely concerned for him, Leon’s head nodding as the bartender poured more whiskey into his glass. Your delicate hand reaching forward and pulling the glass from him. Leon sighed turning himself to you in full, his hands reaching down to unbutton his jacket that held it to his center.

“What.”

A smirk quickly grew on your lips as you took HIS whiskey down your throat, your nose scrunching as you pushed the glass back to him. He was so tired of your bratty demeanor, it’s so unprofessional, so unclassy. Your hands reached out to fix the collar of his white button down as you still processed the burn of the alcohol.

“I worry about you sometimes.. Anyways, I was looking for you then Claire told me you were rambling about desperately needing a drink.”

Leon couldn’t help but admire the way your hands moved when you spoke, your eyes rolling at the mention of his small drinking problem.

“Drinking everyday is bad for your liver Leon.”

Leon groaned at your lecturing, his hands coming up to shush you.

“Fuck you..”

He grumbled, causing your mouth to drop open. Honestly you were offended. For once you were really concerned about the man which was rare from either of you because if you weren’t working, you were fighting.

“You’d like that too much, old man.”

———-

“Cmon Le.. Let's just have one more drink.”

Leon’s hands held at your waist as you stumbled into him. So while you lectured him for drinking so much you downed shots one after another right in front of him. Leon watched you ramble all night, the night he was supposed to spend for himself. After he pulled the both of you outside, you shivered pointing to your car, you hand grabbing for your keys in your purse.

“Okay bye Leon.”

You slurred as a whistle left Leon’s lips, his much taller frame coming in front of you to catch you yet again. Your hands nudged at him, trying to push him off you as you whined about it being cold and how you wanted to lay down. His hands worked at his jacket, shrugging it off and reaching for your arms and slipping it onto you.

“Stop talking and walk, let’s go, you're not driving.”

You were an idiot. Leon’s head shook in disappointment as the two of you began your walk down the street in silence. Even through your drunken fog you could see he was upset with you, your hands playing with the long sleeves of his dark blue suit jacket. He did have his moments where he got genuinely upset with you, like when you had accidentally stabbed him during training, or when you stepped in front of him and Chris during a mission to take the damage of a blown hit. You didn’t belong in this field and he had no idea how you even made it this far. He reached into his back pocket pulling his keys out before he pushed open the door, turning himself back to you.

“Inside.”

His palm rested against your lower back as you stepped inside his home, your eyes adjusting to the lighting change. Leon pulled the jacket off of you and threw it on his couch before he leaned on the counter staring at you. Standing in the middle of his living room. His annoyance was making you sober, playing with your fingernails as he glared at you. His back turned to you as he pulled a glass from his cabinet, turning on his faucet to pour water into it. You flinched as he slammed it in front of you.

“Drink.”

A laugh left your lips as you reached for the glass, taking a sip. But Leon didn’t seem to find it as funny as you did, his hands resting on the beautiful marble counter.

“Lots of one word responses tonight huh.”

You asked as you finished off the glass of water, your hand rubbing your stomach. He was in his own world, it was shocking he cared as much as he did.

“Yeah, goodnight.”

Leon mumbled as he pulled the glass into his sink, pointing to the blankets on the couch. Watching his figure walk down the hall made your skin crawl. You wanted to tell him how scared you were today, how you almost lost him. How he didn’t notice the bruise on your right shoulder from almost breaking your shoulder saving him.

————

A loud thump of a pillow hitting your face shook you from your sleep, your hand reaching for your gun as you sat up.

“Oh calm down. Let’s go Grahams called.”

Leon spoke as he handed you your shoes. You yawned, pushing your heels on before running out the door after him. It’s your favorite time of day, even though you have a violent hangover and it feels like you are going to puke with every step you take trying to catch up to Leon. Out of breath finally walking beside him you push your neck forward, nodding with that stupid smug look on your face that Leon hated.

“You clean up really nice Leon, what straightener do you use?”

How could you be so bitchy at eight in the morning, Leon’s eyes rolled, his lips pressed together as he got into his car, you not falling too short behind. Out of all the people in the department he didn’t understand how he ended up with you as his partner.

——-

“What?”

Leon stood next to you, him and the president sharing a glance as he sighed.

“Listen, Leon told me what happened yesterday and we decided collectively it would be best for you to go work for another agency.”

Your jaw grew tight, it felt like your teeth were being grinded down and your cheeks were flushed a deep red in anger. Your head snapped to Leon, your eyes squinting at him. How could he file a complaint about you saving his life? He is lying directly to the source but you had no proof he was lying which is what made the situation so much worse.

“Fuck you.”

Your words smacked Leon in the face, your body purposely shoving into his shoulder- and hard too. The sound of your heels clicking filled the hallway, your anger building in your chest as you stormed out the back door. This was your life purpose, being an agent. When your younger brother had died at the hands of Umbrella you tried working your way up to demolish it all. None of it mattered anyways because when you met Leon and Chris your life had completely changed. Even though you and Leon had too many unsolvable problems, you thought he still cared? Now you were left jobless, clueless. You looked down at your phone as it buzzed in your purse ‘Leon’ Flashing on the screen.

Stupid son a bitch.

————

Loud banging on your door woke you up, your eyes fixing on the clock on your nightstand. Three in the morning? Sitting up quickly you pulled your handgun from your dresser, tip toeing into the living room area of your flat.

“Who is it? I have a gun!”

When not at work your self defense skills were beyond poor, the banging stopped, the sounds of shuffling were heard before a small thud was heard against your door. Peering into the small eyehole of your door, there stood Leon. His eyes squeezed shut as he rested his palm against your door, you immediately swung the door open causing Leon to fix at his posture.

“Jesus christ Leon, what the fuck?”

Leon’s body pushed into your flat, slamming the door behind him. His hands grabbed at the gun in your hand, laying it on your counter. Your lower back smacked against your couch as he towered over you, his hands reaching down to hold at your face before his lips smacked into yours. No alcohol? Leons teeth nipped at your lip, pulling a low moan from you before you put your hands out pushing him away from you

“What are you doing?”

Leon’s chest heaved as he stared at you, you still looked so sleepy, your pretty nightgown resting so beautifully on your thighs. Your hair was a mess and now your lips were all puffy, he couldn’t fucking stand you. Leon’s hand ruffled through his hair as he looked down the hall to your room, your bed sheets a mess. Leon’s hand gripped your upper arm, walking down the hallway with you in his hands.

“Leon! Stop! Look at me”

Pretending you didn’t like the way he touched you was a joke, and you knew Leon could tell just by the way you reacted to his touch. A whine spilled from your lips as he shoved you down onto your silk sheets, your fingers reaching down to fix your nightgown that had flown up. The sound of Leon’s knees hitting the floor echoed through your ears, your upper body lifting as you watched him lick at his chapped lips. His head shook at the sight of your glistening folds in front of him, your thighs squeezing together as you stared down at the man. Stammers of protest left your lips as Leon’s fingers dug into the flesh of your meaty thighs, of course he was strong but you didn’t know he was this strong. A deep groan emitted from his chest as he lifted his hand, his tongue running across his fingers. His eyes finally met yours, his fingers slick with his spit rubbing small circles on your clit.

“Not so much to say now, huh?”

Oh. Your heart dropped as you remembered the paperwork you had sent in placing a complaint for him. Talking about how unprofessional he was, how he drinks on the job, and stuff about his personal life in general, your lips shook as your mouth opened, a moan ripping from your throat as Leon's thick fingers pushed into you, your hand reached down grabbing at his wrist but he pushed it off to side as he rose his way up your much smaller body. His other hand gripped at the inner part of your knee, locking it beside him as he pushed his fingers into you.

“God you piss me off, Grahams was so mad at me you know? But unlike you I didn't lose my job. You had me with your little comments but I swear if you try something like this again, I will do more than fuck you stupid, Do you understand me?”

When did Leon get the capability to be so fucking mean? Your head nodded up at him, his fingers drawing from you. Leon’s head shook in disapproval as he pushed himself off you, laying down on his back.

“Sit.”

Great. Back with the one word responses. You sat up confused as your hand reached down to cover your exposed self. Your gaze shifted to Leon who looked so pretty sprawled out onto your black silk sheets. His pupils were blown with lust.

“Sit?”

Laughter came with the question as Leon tilted his head to the side to admire you tilting your head back as you laughed at yourself. His hands tugged you towards him, making you lose your balance. “fucking brat.” He mumbled as he dragged you onto of him, your body sitting on his chest.

“Sit on my face. I know you’re not stupid.”

Leon spoke up to you as he pulled your hips towards his face but you pushing yourself back made his eyebrows raise.

“Leon, I'm going to kill you..”

You sat up slightly trying to take more weight off his chest. You weren’t the skinniest but Leon knew that you were always a bit self conscious about your weight, and the amount of times he has caught you has been extremely surprising. One look down at him changed your mind, he was looking at you as if you were the only person in the word, his tongue continuously licking over his lips, you let out a shaky breath before you brought yourself forward grabbing at the headboard. Hovering over his face still too scared but Leon’s hands reached up, pushing you down onto his face.

“Leon!- oh-”

Screams of worry turned into soft cries of pleasure, Leon’s hands reaching back to cup at your ass in his hands, somehow pushing you further into him. Your eyes finally fluttered open, staring down at Leon who seemed to be enjoying much more than he should. Never did you imagine Leon’s face so deep into you, your thighs pushing against his cheeks, the scruff on his face scraping your soft skin. His eyes opened hazily, staring up at you as he pushed his tongue into you, his hands still rocking you into him.

“Leon wait!-”

You cried out as a boiling burn started to build in your stomach, your body going to crawl off of him. Leon’s arms wrap around your thighs before you’re flipped over, his thighs laying over his shoulder as he laps at your folds on long strokes. Your hands reach down, grabbing at his soft hair. Leon moans out, vibrating your entire body as he uses his fingers to hold your folds open. He’s sucking at your clit so fucking good, your hands trying to push him away as he hold you’re hips down. He could have this view forever, the way you’re crying for him and the way you taste so good in his mouth. The amount of times Leon has wanted to force you down and suck on your pretty little clit was too many to count on his hand.

“Fuck!”

Your scream could probably be heard from all the flats around you as your orgasm flashed through your body, causing tears to drip from your eyes. A cry left your throat as Leon sat up, his fingers gently rubbing small heart shapes on your clit with a big smile on his face. He looked so beautiful, your slick covering his chin and his lips swollen from sucking at your folds for so long.

“Le.. s’ too much.”

Leon shook his head as he leaned down, sloppily pressing kissing on your lips, your own taste filling your mouth before you screamed out at the feeling of Leon once again pushing his long fingers into you.

“Jus’ give me five more of those pretty.. I'm enjoying this too much.”

#leon kennedy #resident evil #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut #leon infinite darkness #ID leon #LEON EATS PUSSY YUP

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