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beiasluv · 5 months

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yes, and? | f1 d!lfs

a/n: Ariana popped tf off with that house music, but ngl I have mixed feelings abt her allegations. don’t be a homewrecker bitches 😘

aussiegrit

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aussiegrit Ride a Porsche, save a horse…😆 yourinsta

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fernandoalo_official nice caption 🙌🤣

aussiegrit got a smart gal 😊😂

username thatshouldbemeholdjngyourhanddd

username mark and yn are weird. prove me wrong.

username don’t be a hater if she’s having fun

username having sex with someone’s husband is fun?

username ain’t no one saying that yet

username if I see a dilf using the laughing emoji unironically again I will combust

username then I’ve got good news for you..

username ICONIC QUEEN SHITT

username Honestly get that bag gurlll

username Yn is a grown woman, should’ve known not to mingle with an older man

username is it so depressing to see a successful young woman having a fun time?

yourinsta

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yourinsta ride or die (literally) 😙

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jensonbutton careful love

yourinsta will do 🤭

username hang out with people your age

username stay mad, go touch some grass

landonorris we literally drive fast car for life 💀

yourinsta I KNOW 😭😭

yourinsta when are you visiting 😔

landonorris soonn

username ERM Where.

sebastianvettel glad you had fun schatz

yourinsta anytimee 🫶

username sebastian went skiing and no fucking picture. I’m devastated.

username what exactly are you riding 🤭

username she slayed for that

username DONT TAKE TREACHEROUS ROADS

username DONT MAKE UNNECESSARILY JOURNIES

jensonbutton

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jensonbutton off seasonal things 🤣.

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yourinsta slow your horses on drinking mr button

jensonbutton will do love 😉

yourinsta I’ll keep an eye on that.

username taking care of her old man You go girlll

username was this the Santa hat he got from Fernando 😭😭

username it’s also likely that one of them gifted the whiskey as well

username nobody can stop yn and her dilfs on this summer break

username HELL YEAH

username not complaining for the lack of content from the current grid (except Ms gurl herself)

yourinsta

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yourinsta I have no more storage 😔

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sebastianvettel sorry schatz ❤️

yourinsta I maybee forgive you

username grow tf upp

username she got them down bad and you mad??

landonorris why is your phone crustyy

yourinsta I SWEAR IT’S THEMM

yourinsta my selfies ate 🤭

username PERIODDD

username get yourself sweaty old dilfss

jensonbutton deleting is not an option love

aussiegrit buying a new one is

username OH???

username be my sugar daddy please 😩🙏

username Oscar and mick basically cringing at their father figure

username Respect the original rizz gurll

username Sebastian was and still is the original rizz, ask yn 😘

username kimi what are you doing hereeee

f1gossips

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f1gossips Ricciardo, Vettel, Button, Alonso, and Ln spotted in a holiday in Ibiza, Spain. More attendants to be confirmed.

- admin

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username honestly it’s kinda weird that she keeps on hanging out with the older grid while she is literally a Mercedes driver?

username and what’s wrong with hanging out with people outside the current grid

username idk seems kinda weird to me, older men..

username if she’s getting that bag I respect her cause why tf not?

username homewrecker much?

username desperate much?

username homewrekcerr so coquette 🎀

username you guys don’t get it (I GET HERR)

username Spain… so is Carlos joining??

username and Lando’s comment??

username I swear they need to show tf up

yourinsta

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yourinsta told you my selfies ate 😘

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aussiegrit beautiful sunshine ❤️

yourinsta wish you were heree

aussiegrit I’ll definitely see you soon honey

username never let mark know what a dm is so I can keep reading their texts

username if you look closely into the background you can see me drowning in my tears

username omg same!! twinss

carlossainz55 did you pierced your tongue?

yourinsta no?? why would I do that

username why are they so siblings 😭

sebastianvettel

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sebastianvettel trip dump or whatever the kids say?

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yourinsta correcto

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username get away from my mann 😘😘

username ngl you got me in the first half

username can the summer break be longer 😭😩

username I miss the dilf trip already. I have nothing to look forward to anymore

username how to…be…a dog ✍️

f1gossips

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f1gossips Mark Webber and David Coulhart spotted at the Porsche convention, Melbourne, Australia. Lando Norris confirmed in joining the Ibiza trip last week as seen with a fan at a restaurant

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username i know exactly what you are doing by putting mark in this

username so was it Mark??? 🤭🤭

username Mark please comeback 😭

username come back the kids miss you 😩

username so was it true that she fucked one of them?

username WHAT? WHO WHERE WHEN

username it was rumor but idk guessed it would’ve spiraled at the trip

username had a feeling that it was Sebastian 🤷‍♀️

username SAMEE TWINSS

yourinsta

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yourinsta yes, and?

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username OMF MISS QUEENNN

username QUEEN SHIT BITCH

username ITS CONFIRMEDD

username so can I call her ariana now? 💀💀

yall know the drill, interact if you liked it😘😘 let me know who’s your favorite f1 dilf

today’s a great day to take care of yourself!!

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italiansteebie · 1 year

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It was a thing, to not touch Steve’s hair. Like a “hands off,” “Your ass is grass,” thing. And as adamant as he was, Steve never gave a reason. Just a wave of his hand and a simple, “Just don’t.” Now, some of the kids, well most of them, were respectful enough to follow that one simple rule, Mike had tried it once.

The grip around his wrist and the fire in his babysitter's eyes was enough to drive the nail through the head. For the kids, that is. Eddie, however, thought it was funny, and he was determined to find why Steve was so protective over his “precious” hair.

He tried bugging him, annoying him to the point where he just got fed up and told him, and he tried making up crazy conspiracies like a 100 Karat gold shampoo that “us mere mortals were not worthy enough to touch.”

Robin tried to tell Eddie to just back off, tired of hearing Steve gripe about it all day at work, but of course it didn’t work, until Eddie suffered the same wrath Mike had. And god. He didn’t know King Steve had that much in him, but he saw how much it bugged Steve so he finally let it go.

It wasn’t long after that that everybody found out just exactly why Steve hated them touching his hair.

They were all piled up in Eddie’s trailer, kids on the floor buried in a mountain of blankets, respective couples holding hands and chatting, and the older kids up on the couch in their very own mountain of blankets.

Robin and Nancy were wrapped up in eachother, not bothering to pay attention to the movie, let alone anyone else in the room. Steve and Eddie, who were curled up together, had already shared a smug smile in their direction, but they too got caught up in each other quickly following that.

Steve had rested his head on Eddie's shoulder, reveling in the feeling of his gentle hand running up and down his back. Eddie, in no mind of his own, buried a hand in Steve’s hair just at the nape of his neck and tugged on it gently. A weak noise came out of Steve after a few minutes, when Eddie finally realized what he was doing.

He moved to stop but cast a quick glance at Steve’s face, preparing for the anger that faced him, but to his surprise, he saw Steve blissed out in a way he’d never seen before. That is, at least with the children around. He knocked that thought out of his head before gently kicking Mike who was propped up against the couch below him.

The grimace on the kids face was hilarious but the way it transformed into some kind of smug, awe, was even better. Eddie kept the movement up, Steve slipping further into that melty, dreamy, headspace, unbeknownst to the attention that was being cast at him. “Watch this,” Eddie whispered.

“Hey Stevie,”

“Hmm?”

“Can you drive all the kids up to Indy tomorrow?”

“Mmmhmm.”

The kids thought this was the best thing ever, Nancy and Robin watched for a moment too, with slight grins before they turned back into their own little world.

“Hey, Steve. Can we burn your house down?” Dustin piped up.

“Yeah. Mmmmmmhmm.” was all he got in return.

“No way! He’s like putty in your hands Eddie! This is great! Ask him if we can host Hellfire at his house.” Mike said, already forming the plans in his brain. Eddie rolled his eyes, and cut them off with minimal whining from Micheal.

When Steve was coherent again, he was subject to relentless teasing, mostly from the kids and a little bit from Robin. He hushed them, just a tad annoyed, but that went away when Eddie whispered his plans for Steve’s hair in his ear. Suddenly he wasn’t annoyed at the kids’ antics, but his face was redder than a tomato. A reaction in which Eddie had more than enough fun with.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #hair #hair kink #soft dom eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things fic #ficlet #steddie fic #steddie ficlet

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leighsartworks216 · 8 months

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A Spawn Could Get Used To This

Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Wrote this on 1 hour of sleep. I did proofread it. I am so so sleepy. I'm going back to bed after this

Warnings: embarrassment

Word Count: 1,163

Main Masterlist

First Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist - Second Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

In the few weeks he’d been traveling along with this not-so-merry band of weirdos, Astarion got used to a lot of things very quickly. Gale loudly explaining anything at the drop of a hat, Lae’zel and Shadowheart fighting, the smells. Some things were positive, too. The sun was always nice and warm, and the odd sort of comfort being with a group of weirdos brought was nice. And, of course, some things were neutral.

One of the neutrals he’d adjusted to came in the form of you, their leader, and in fact the forms you could take on. He wasn’t sold on the whole druid thing before - all of them were tree huggers who cried over a crushed blade of grass - but, well, being romantically involved with one came with some quirks.

Quite often, almost any time you weren’t busy exploring or risking their lives, you would transform into a cat and go about the camp. If Scratch and the owlbear cub were any indicators, small fluffy things raised morale. Most everyone would scratch along your spine or behind your ears, all their woes forgotten for even a brief moment. It became rather commonplace. Mundane. What an odd thing to be called mundane.

Along with this came another little quirk.

After you did your rounds, getting pets and listening to their smaller issues, you’d come back around and rub against his leg. This very quickly became a way of asking for him to pick you up. You rather enjoyed being close to his chest and purring as loudly as possible.

Today was just like any other. You’d come back with a sack of stolen goods and bloody armor, drop everything unceremoniously in a pile, and transform to make your rounds. Well, he assumed that’s what you did. He was a little preoccupied when you disappeared, but he didn’t think much of it when a cat started wandering around the tents.

So he stood and flipped through his book and busied himself, waiting to drop the act and pick you up and cuddle. It was a rather good act, he thought. He’d furrow his brow or lightly chuckle, and become so engrossed in pretending to read he stopped noticing the passage of time, until something small and fluffy rubbed against his leg.

He closed the book carelessly as he looked down at his feet. Sure enough, a cat rubbed its cheek against him, already starting to purr. He grinned, though not too wide, lest the others begin to think he went soft. “Hello, my love,” he cood. “Want me to hold you?”

The cat meowed, head butting him. He chuckled and tossed his book onto a pillow, before bending down and lifting the darling creature - his darling creature - into his arms. It flipped to its back to be cradled like a baby in the crook of his elbow, paws stretching out and claws latching lightly to the fabric of his shirt. It purred so loud he was sure everyone else for a mile could hear it.

Unusually, it didn’t seem to like when he tried stroking its belly. He thought, perhaps, you just didn’t want that kind of contact today. He’d been getting used to the boundaries touch should have, and the fact you would respect them. It was only natural to have the same grace in return.

“Awe, you got yourself a little friend!”

Astarion startled at the voice, jostling the cat slightly, who mrowled at the movement. Sure enough, standing beside his tent toweling their hair dry was his beloved druid. Not in cat form. He gaped in confusion and awe.

“Darling, don’t take this the wrong way but, where the Hells were you?” The cat rolled to its side to knead biscuits into his chest. He barely felt the pinpricks of nails.

You gave him an odd look. “I went for a wash. Our battles were a bit bloodier today, and while you may like the smell of blood, I, personally, don’t. Especially when it’s up my nose.” You scowled, rubbing your nose at the memory. “Why? Did something happen?”

His frown didn’t disappear as he slowly replied, “No, nothing at all.”

You gave him another odd look. “Are you alright?”

He blinked, shaking himself out of his dumbfounded stupor. “This is going to sound ridiculous, but…” He looked down at the cat in his arms that seemed to settle down and prepare for a nap. “Well, dear, I thought this was you.”

The laugh bursts out of you unbidden, and Astarion glares embarrassed at you. You try to bite down the giggles trying to escape. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! It’s just,” you giggle and step forward to pet the cat. You have a bubbly sort of mischief in your eyes. He prepares himself for the worst. “You can’t tell the difference between us?”

“I didn’t think I had to memorize the precise hairs, no,” he bit. “It looked like you - why would I have any reason to believe it wasn’t?”

“You don’t need to be defensive,” you assure sweetly. “It’s cute! And it seems to like you.”

He huffed and looked down at the creature. The points of its fangs peeked out as it drifted off into sleep. The purring persisted, now almost reminding him of snoring. He pouted, though he hated when you called it that. He preferred the term brooding. “Yes, well, I was rather hoping it was my darling druid come to join me for a lazy evening.”

You chuckled and kissed his cheek. “I can do that. But I don’t think your new friend is going to want to leave you alone.”

He peeked at you from the corner of his eye. “I could be persuaded to share myself with both of you.”

“What if I turned into a cat and purred, too?”

He hummed, pretending to consider the deal, but the slight lift of his mouth gave it away. “I don’t know, darling. You know how much I simply loathe sharing. I think you can do better than that.”

You smile. “Okay, what if I throw a kiss into the mix?”

He grinned, the points of his fangs peeking out just like the cat’s in his arms. “That might even it out.”

You do your best to avoid disturbing the cat as you lean in to catch his lips. You taste of fresh spring water and the barest hint of a health potion. And he loves it. The kiss doesn’t last nearly long enough before you pull away and kiss his cheek. “Get comfortable. I’ll be back in a moment.”

“I’ll count the seconds,” he teases, though there’s no hint of a lie in his voice.

You chuckle and walk away, back to the pile of stuff that Wyll and Gale are already sorting through, counting 1, 2, 3, 4… And 97 seconds later, when you and this stranger cat are both laying atop him, purring incessantly, he finds he could get used to it.

---

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jojissalsa · 7 months

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Dangerous Game (part one)

you get a new job as a federal agent for the F.O.S, and now you're stuck dealing with the reckless D.S.O agent, Leon Kennedy.

Warnings: dom/older!Leon, sub!reader, slight age gap (reader is in late 20s, up to y'all), dirty thoughts, masturbation (f and m). this one is fairly tame. kinda.

WC: 2.8k

an: hey y'all!! i'm hoping to make this into a 3 parter, felt like my idea is a lil too big for just one fic, that's why this one is probably a tad more tame compared my previous stuff. as per usual, critique, reposts and requests are welcome! enjoy <3 (minors do not interact, go touch grass.)

Working for the Field Operations Support is fairly easy, you got a nice seat at the front desk as the receptionist, you’ve worked there for a good couple of years. Nothing crazy ever happened, and everyone respected you pretty well. Especially Hunnigan. Well, Ingrid to you, Hunnigan to your coworkers. You always respected her the most, always envious of her job. You initially applied for her job, but you could take being a receptionist. You could live vicariously through her, since she seemed to like you the most in and outside of work. Hunnigan was always so sweet, giving you a pleasant smile and a morning chat whenever she’d come in for work, bringing you lunch as you two got closer. That also opened the door to lots of girl talk, mainly about how stressful the job was sometimes. Hunnigan loved her job, truly, but it came with heavy challenges. A very heavy one would be Leon Kennedy, a D.S.O agent she’s worked with for a majority of her career.

You’ve heard some of the horror stories from her about the bioweapons, insidious cults and rich white guys that try to carry on Umbrella’s work but fail miserably every time. This time seemed a bit different though, more final for her. “Honestly, the guy is an idiot sometimes. Likable, but an idiot.” You snicker at how nice she’s being for how pissed she looks, angrily sipping her coffee from the breakroom. “I think you mean he’s a lovable dumbass, but I guess that works too.” You chuckle softly, stirring sugar into your own fresh cup of coffee. “Hey, I’m serious this time. I mean, come on, I’m getting older.” Hunnigan watches as you sit down across from her, a worried expression starting to take over your features. “You really think it’s time to call it quits?” “Maybe not quitting just yet, just maybe looking over a different agent. Spots are starting to open up y’know.” Your eyebrows shoot up at that, trying to hide your excitement as you look down to sip your coffee. “Well, maybe I can take your spot? I’m pretty confident, and I’ve done all the training.” She shares your new found excitement, reaching out to put her hand over yours. “I’ll pull some strings, okay? I think we both need a change of scenery.” Her sweet smile never fails to spread to you, you can trust her. She’s been your best friend, if you’re being honest, and you’re sure she shares the same sentiment.

It didn’t take long for those strings to be pulled, and soon you were standing in front of the President and a few other important men in nice suits, watching as you shake hands and smile awkwardly. Finally, you get a briefing on the infamous federal agent you would be helping. Leon Scott Kennedy. He’s got a good reputation with everyone in the room, saying that while he may have an “eccentric” personality, he’s a hard working man, compliments all coming from the President. You heard about it from Hunnigan and a few other agents that he saved his daughter from a deathly cult, and brought it all down in the same day. You could tell from his file that he clearly worked a lot, even if he didn’t get this job on his own violation. Sucks that he was forced into his life, but it’s good that he’s making it work. Seems like a good looking guy too, at least from the small picture of him clipped to the folder.

And now you’re waiting for that good looking guy to walk into your new office, setting down a few knick-knacks you had on your previous desk. You turn your head to the sound of someone walking in, your eyes widening as they set on the man who seemed to be searching for someone. Good looking was an understatement of the century. The way his blazer fits just right on his biceps, his light brown hair and piercing gaze that just speaks "brooding loner", if you weren't at work you'd have fallen to your knees the second he made eye contact with you. You try to reel in your awe as he walks up to you, dusting off your clothes to make you look put together. "So you're my new babysitter? Y/n, right? I'm Leon Kennedy." Just the sound of his voice is enough to give you goosebumps, but your name from his lips is like a drug that gets you hooked instantly. And just like that, something flips in your brain, you are so not gonna be professional, how can you? How can anyone handle themselves around this man? You shake his hand as he extends it for you, and the feel of his rough hand from hard work sends so many dirty thoughts through your mind, like how good it would feel with his fingers on your neck, or his palm pressed against your tit, or how thick his fingers would feel inside you- chill out, play it cool.

"It's great to finally meet you, Mr. Kennedy, everyone has told me a lot about you.." You make sure to say it in a sultry tone to make it obvious how much you think he's attractive, and he sure as hell catches it. "Good things, I hope." He chuckles, giving you a sly smirk. Oh he knows. Fuck. "Oh don't worry, it's been all good things, promise. Though, I have heard that you made Hunnigan’s job a lot harder." You tease, looking him up and down and matching his sly smirk. Two can play that game. "Sure, but I get the job done, no?" The way he says it is so damn sexy you're sure he's doing what you're doing. "I'm sure you get a lot of things done with that attitude, Mr. Kennedy." You act like you're being sarcastic as you cross your arms under your chest, but you know how he could make you cum with the brush of his arm. "Only one way to find out, right?" That one makes your eyebrows raise, your smile widening as you blush slightly. "Is that an invitation?" You drop your voice slightly, leaning against the wall. The curve of your body sends a shockwave of arousal through him, and his eyes narrow on your figure. "If that's what you think I meant then by all means." He's so damn smug and it just makes you wanna sit on his face to shut him up.

"Is there anything you wanna ask me? About myself, the job?" You try to sound professional and not desperate, but you feel like it's helpless when you're looking up at him and he's so obviously checking you out, his eyes taking note of every curve on your body. Like he’s studying it for later. "I think I have a pretty good idea from Hunnigan and the President, is there anything you wanna ask me?" His question makes your eyes light up, but you don't wanna immediately ask him on a date. Classy, that's who you are to your core. "I can ask you anything I want?" "Anything." You smile smugly, lowering your hand to take his, clearly inspecting his ring finger as you bring it closer to you. "Do you have a girl? I don't see a ring on your finger." You say it in an innocent yet flirty tone that he so obviously gets turned on from, considering how he chuckles lightly as he shakes his head before taking his hand away. "So observant. I guess that comes with the job, huh? No, I'm single." Always such a tease, I guess neither of you can help that though. "Really? I have a hard time believing that." You have a faux surprised look on your face, all in the name of trying to get him to blush. You're getting close, you can feel it. "Is it? I'm an old man, what can I say." That one gets you shifting your thighs, biting your lip as you think of just how much older. What kind of experience comes with that age? "Old man, hmm? You ever thought of being with someone younger?" You step a little closer, just barely invading his personal space. "Haven't met anybody that can keep up." He says it so nonchalant, but fuck if it doesn't light a fire that spreads throughout your body. God, it's so hard not to say you could totally keep up, doesn't matter how long he'd want it. "Keep up, hmm? What, does this job give you a lot of stamina or something?" Your question makes him smile at you confidently, and it gets you oh so excited. "Well, I meant that most women don't like that I'm constantly busy, but if you wanna be dirty minded about it, be my guest." He totally stumps you, and it just makes you giggle and rest your hand on his arm, letting out a lil “my bad” before letting it slip away. You're slick, cause you honestly just touched his arm to feel how firm it was, and oh my god. Like diamonds, kind of hard. You can't imagine how fucking good it’d feel wrapped around your neck- there you go again. Snap out of it.

“You're pretty funny, you know that? I’m gonna have fun talking to you. For work, of course.” He let out a soft laugh at your flattery, loving how you tried to soften the thirstiness of your words with a joke. It's cute, you're really trying to say he's not hot. “Trust me, Hunnigan got very tired of my jokes.” You scoff, cause honestly, who could get tired of this guy? “Sorry, but she doesn't know what she's talking about, clearly you're an A class comedian.” You make it sound a little sarcastic, but he doesn't seem offended in the slightest. He loves a challenge. “Yeah? Aren't you a sweetheart? You love to flatter.” Your eyes widen a bit, resisting the urge to squeal and fan your hot face like a rabid fangirl, simply looking away to try and take a moment away from his hungry gaze. “I mean, it's hard not to, Mr. Kennedy..” You sheepishly give him that win, you’ll take it since he called you sweetheart, and in that teasing, cocky fucking tone of all things. If Cupid was real, you’d probably have a million arrows in your back right now. He parts his lips to reply, but gets cut off by his phone ringing, taking it out of his pocket to see the President calling. “Shit, I gotta take this.” He sighs, clearly wanting to keep talking to you instead. “It’s just Leon by the way, no need for formalities.” You get a smug smile again before he starts to walk back to the door of your office, walking with him to let him leave so you could wave him goodbye. “I’ll see you around, okay?” You nod, your smirk not leaving as he waits for you to say goodbye. “I’ll see you around, Mr. Kennedy~” You and your teasing, it's gonna throw him into cardiac arrest. He shares your smugness before begrudgingly answering his phone, looking back to see you waving bye at him with your dainty little hand. Like you knew he didn't wanna end the conversation.

He couldn't stop thinking about you all damn day after your little exchange, could barely focus on his briefing or look anyone in the eye. Even when he got home, knowing he had to wake up supremely early for work, he couldn't get you off his mind. You weren’t like every corporate drone the D.S.O hires, nothing like Hunnigan either. Bless the woman, but he would finally have someone to laugh at his shitty dad jokes. No wonder you got the job. You were drop dead gorgeous to him, not daring to come close to any Victoria Secret model. The way you giggle when you're nervous, how you sneak touches or how forward you are. God, it took every fiber in his body to not grab you and fuck you in a storage closet. Or against the wall? He just towers over you, he could fold you like a lawn chair and you’d take every inch. Fuck, how did his cock get in his hand? Who cares, honestly. He’s too busy spitting in his hand, too worked up to get anything better to help him jerk off. He groans, thinking of how good your soft, delicate fingers you used to wave at him would feel wrapped around his dick, whispering in his ear in that sexy voice you have. He feels chills down his spine when he remembers the way you teased him, how you didn't even say his name. Cause you didn't wanna give it to him yet, that satisfaction. Jesus, you're gonna kill him before any bioweapon does if you keep that shit up. His hand gets faster as his thoughts keep speeding forward, thinking about how good you’d sound saying his name. Not Mr. Kennedy, Leon. He has to hear it, has to hear you scream it when you cum on his cock. He needs to know how pretty you’d look when you cum, clinging to his arms, maybe even digging your nails into his back as your legs lock around his waist. So fucking hot as you beg to have him fill you up. He cums in his hand, spilling out of his palm and down his happy trail. He lets out a heavy sigh, catching his breath as he comes down from his high. He's not even close to feeling satisfied, even as he gets up to go shower again. He needs you, and he knows you feel the same. Hard part is gonna be getting you, without all the stress of what your coworkers would say.

You honestly don't stray too far from how he felt that night either. The second you closed the door to your office, you sat down and processed everything. It was a lot, seeing a man that fucking fine and not being able to drop to your knees and take his cock in your mouth. You were close to sprinting to a bathroom and taking care of the issue, maybe even slipping a hand between your legs and just testing the waters. Literally. He made you so wet, and you could feel it your entire shift, even as you walked to your car. You could only imagine how wet you’d get if he actually did anything. If he talked dirty? Him telling you to cum would make you do it on the spot, no question. Fuck, if he touched you? You’d be screaming like a damn pornstar, waking up the whole building when he slides his cock inside you. It's all you can think about when you get home, not caring to take a shower when you do. You just plop down on your bed and practically tear your clothes off, desperate for relief. Maybe that’ll save your career, fucking yourself thinking about him. So you do, pulling your nightstand drawer open the second you’re naked, taking out ol’ reliable. You can't count on your hands how many times this vibrator was there for you, it was way more reliable than your parents or therapist. Or you could be addicted to cumming, that too. But who wouldn't be? It's not your concern, especially if it's because of Leon. You wanna hear him say the most degrading, defiling, depraved shit in the world but still praise you for it, praise you for putting out so easily cause you're such a good girl. If fucking him with no hesitation makes you a slut, then you wear that badge proudly. That title feels even better when you start moaning his name, your toy hitting that sweet spot which makes you move your hand faster, needing to cum so damn bad. It feels so dirty in the best way possible, thinking of how firm his thighs would feel under your hands as you grip them tighter every time he shoves his cock further down your throat. You can’t imagine how fucking hot it’d be to hear him order you to grind your wet cunt on his boot, holding your hair so hard that you can’t help but push your nose against his pelvis, making your clit nudge against his boot again. Hearing that cocky son of a bitch tell you to cum would be like the devil coaxing you to join him down in hell, too sinful to imagine without having the real thing. It doesn't stop you from cumming on your toy, whining as your legs shake, turning it off as you heave out breaths. You’re fine if you think about him every night, it's good material for your shower thoughts. You’re more excited for his upcoming mission, making you all giddy as you get ready for bed. You're gonna be insufferable. Lucky Leon~

#leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x fem reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #leon resident evil #resident evil smut #smut #older leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader smut #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy infinite darkness

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magicfootballstuff · 10 months

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Silver (ona batlle x reader)

The weight of defeat in the World Cup final pins you to the grass. Your head is pounding, a rush of blood in your ears that drowns out any sound around you, until a familiar voice cuts through it all.

“Mi amor, you have to get up.”

You fling an arm across your face, the crook of your elbow covering your eyes. Today was always going to end with one of you winning and the other losing, but you don’t know if you can face Ona right now.

“Can’t,” you say, but even that one word takes a huge effort to choke out.

A hand finds yours and you peel back your arm to see Ona crouching beside you.

“Let me help,” she says, locking your hands together in her grasp and using her strength to haul you to your feet when you’re too exhausted to do it yourself.

Your England teammates are starting to congregate nearby, Sarina beckoning the players over, and though you know that nothing she says right now will mend your broken heart, you still have to join.

“We’ll talk after, okay?” Ona promises you, her hand finding the back of your neck and affectionately playing with the wisps of hair that have escaped your ponytail, before you part ways to join your respective huddles.

After turns out to be much later. The ceremony seems to drag on for an eternity, but you move through the whole thing like a zombie. You doubt you’ll remember much of this later and a small part of you wonders if you should be soaking this in more, not just the occasion of having played in a World Cup final, but also of losing it. You hate losing, hate the feelings of inadequacy that are consuming you right now, but it’s moments like this that you’ll want to look back on next time you’re in a final, to channel that into winning the next one and never having to feel like this again.

Eventually, with a silver medal around your neck, you find yourself back on the confetti-covered grass, seated this time, with your knees bent up to your chest and your weight supported on your hands behind you. The stadium is still half full, mostly joyful Spanish fans but you can see some England flags still flying proudly, and that’s when it hits you. Second place when you were so close to winning the biggest prize in football hurts, but it’s still something you should try to be proud of and the fans who have followed you to the other side of the world and still show their support are what makes the pain worthwhile.

“Can I sit down?”

In your appreciation of the moment, you don’t notice Ona until she’s standing over you, her jersey now decorated with a star over the crest and a gold medal around her neck.

She’s waiting for your permission to sit, so you give it with a single nod, and she plants herself on the grass beside you, immediately draping her arm around your neck. You sink into the touch, leaning into her side and resting your head on Ona’s shoulder.

“It hurts so much,” you admit, your eyes stinging with tears again.

“I know,” Ona replies. “And I wish I could take that pain away.”

“I just wasn’t good enough,” you tell her. “I’ve let so many people down. I’ve let an entire country down.”

“Hey,” Ona says, cupping your jaw with her hand and tilting your head to look at her. There’s a little crease between her eyebrows as she frowns at your self-deprecation. “You haven’t let anybody down. You were good enough to get to the final and you gave us a tough game today. That’s something to be proud of.”

Her fingers rub soothing circles on your shoulder through the material of your blue jersey. You nod and try to swallow back the lump in your throat.

“And I know it probably doesn’t help much but I’m so proud of you,” Ona continues, her brown eyes full of warmth and adoration. “So proud.”

You want to tell her you’re proud of her too, of the medal around her neck and the trophy she got to lift, of the performances she’s given on the pitch throughout the tournament and the fact that she’s now shown the entire world how good she is. But you can’t find the words.

It’ll take you a few days to find those words, but you will find them. You’ll tell Ona on a beach as you take a much needed break together for a few days before you start preseason. You’ll tell her during a lazy morning in bed right before you have to fly back to England. You’ll tell her again on FaceTime the night before she makes her Barcelona debut. It doesn’t matter if you can’t say it now, because Ona understands.

She presses her lips to your temple, a simple gesture that conveys way more than words ever could.

“T’estimo,” you murmur.

Ona’s lips still linger against your skin and you feel the smile as she hears the way your own mouth stumbles slightly around the foreign words of her native tongue.

“I love you too. Always.”

#woso x reader #woso imagine #ona batlle x reader #ona batlle imagine #established relationship

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sparrowssally · 5 months

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*cracks knuckles* Yet another PSA about the Tennant and Sheen families…

Alright, here goes it. I don’t give a fuck if you ship Aziraphale and Crowley. I’m a huge shipper of them myself, so it’s all good! Love them, want the world for them, etc etc. HOWEVER, if you want to:

1. ship David and Michael romantically

2. want to use shipping David and Michael as an excuse to be blatantly misogynistic against their respective partners (Georgia and Anna)

3. want to allege that they are being “trapped” in their marriage by their partners “strategically” having kids

Then get the fuck off my blog. Seriously. There’s no place for you here.

You’re literally hoping that David Tennant, a man with five kids, will leave his wife of 12 years (whom he clearly loves) to end up in a hyper-sexual romantic relationship with Michael Sheen, who would also have to leave his partner as well, with whom he has two young children and who he seems very happy with. You’re literally wanting happy families to get broken apart so that your selfish ship can sail. It’s disgusting and you should be ashamed of yourselves.

I get wanting to have queer representation, it’s greatly needed and there is always room for more of it. However, wanting to assign a queer identity to someone who hasn’t publicly acknowledged that they identify that way is NOT okay. I don’t care who they are, celebrity or not. If you want to see queer representation, then Aziraphale and Crowley are RIGHT THERE. Don’t wreck real people’s relationships with their partners—and their friendship with each other—just because you want your ship to sail. If for some reason David and/or Michael want to come out in the future on their own, then that’s for them to do when they feel comfortable, and speculating about their identities without them saying anything is just weird and gross.

AND ANOTHER THING! All y’all who write essay-long posts analyzing every single social media thing about Michael, David, Georgia, and Anna: y’all need to get a fucking life. Go outside. Touch grass. PLEASE stop treating these very real people like they’re puppets in your grand romance story. I guarantee you that their lives are probably not NEARLY as fascinating and scandal-filled as what you think they are. And believe it or not—because I know y’all LOVE to use this as “evidence”—people are allowed to not be all smiley and lovey-dovey in selfies and photos with their partners, and for many people, teasing their partners is part of their relationship! *gasp* I know right?? Shocking. It literally doesn’t mean anything that Georgia and David tease each other or that Michael and Anna tease each other, and that they all occasionally aren’t smiling in photos with each other. That’s normal person behavior and I’m begging y’all to understand that.

I know this post probably isn’t going to be seen by the weirdo people who need to see it the most, but whatever. I just really needed to get this off my chest.

#david tennant #michael sheen #psa #good omens #good omens fandom #georgia tennant #anna lundberg #real person shipping #RPS #real person fanfiction #david x michael #michael x david

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yzzart · 2 years

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— A dragon knows a dragon.

characters: Aemond Targaryen x (F)Targaryen!reader.

summary: you and your dragon meet a certain person again, what could happen?

warnings: incest, explicit words, mentions of the dragon Tessarion.

word count: 1.265!

english's not my first language, so sorry for any mistakes!

You loved the feeling of being in the clouds.

The strong cold wind blew your face fantastically. The feeling of freedom, power and trust with your dragon was inexplicable. — You loved to fly.

The magnificent blue skin of your dragon, which shone even brighter in the sun's rays, matched the immense ocean that surrounded King's Landing.

Her beauty was heavenly and dignified. — She caught everyone's attention, both in the sky and on the ground.

Tessarion was a fascinating beast.

And you missed flying all over King's Landing, no one could explain your passion to fly under the place where you were born, grew up and could future reign. — Being legitimate for being the daughter of two Targaryens.

"Tev vajag atpūsties, meitiņ." (you need to rest, girl.) — You advise the beast, caressing it tenderly. Tessarion's rough blue scales ease at the touch of affection.

Tightening your saddle, you direct Tessarion to land at the bottom of the castle, where she will stay for a while until your family decides to return to Dragonstone. She understands the order and, increasing speed, the dragon goes to the desired location.

Observing that a large beast was approaching, some guards who were circulating around the place decided to move as quickly as possible, leaving the space completely free for Tessarion.

Your mouth curved into a thin smile identifying the great respect your dragon had for everyone. Some were scared and others were enchanted by her beauty and size.

The loud and strong sound of Tessarion's footsteps erupted in that region, carrying a smoke of sand through the place. Anyone passing by the place was probably startled by the immense noise.

Annoyed by the mess, Tessarion makes small low noises and shakes her head, making you laugh.

"Mēs esam klāt, meitiņ." (we're here, girl.) — You whispered beside her pointed ear. Removing the chains from your saddle, you slowly pull yourself out of the dragon.

Taking a deep breath, you feel the hard, prickly feel of the small grass strewn across the ground. — Turning your hand to Tessarion's skin, you begin to distribute affection and admiration, quickly, she settled down and relaxed.

But in a matter of seconds, your skin tightened and your posture went rigid — As if something or someone was threatening you.

That's how Tessarion took care of you.

You felt a penetrating gaze on your body and your dragon, but that sensation was familiar to you and from Tessarion's elation, she probably recognized who owned the gaze.

Footsteps on the gravel were exclaimed in your ears, indicating that the person was approaching. You didn't decide to turn around to contemplate and find out who was catching your eye, but you didn't have to. — The only thing you did was watch Tessarion's expressions, who kept her gaze fixed on the individual standing nearby.

"Have you come to admire Tessarion, uncle?" — You question the mysterious and feared Targaryen. The eldest's presence was so familiar and comforting to you that it frightened you at times.

"I was surprised by the presence of another dragon flying through the region." — Aemond's cold voice was revealed, then a low growl was executed. — "I thought you weren't going to bring her."

Revealing himself, Aemond fully approaches your side looking at your dragon. Tessarion was not intimidated by Aemond's figure, on the contrary, she continued to maintain a serious and rigid posture against him.

"Viņa ir pieaugusi un izskatās spēcīga." (She's all grown up and looking strong.) — Aemond uttered it directly to you.

"Viņa ir spēcīga, Aemond." (She's strong, Aemond.) — You scolded your uncle. As you try to maintain a serious posture, Aemond turns to face you, displaying the small smile forming on his lips.

You loved and hated that smile at the same time.

Aemond starts to approach the blue dragon, offering his hand for a simple caress, but Tessarion abruptly pulls away, fleeing the rider of one of the largest dragons in the world. — That scene made you laugh out loud.

Aemond tries to hide a smile when he hears the sound of your laughter. He missed hearing it so much, but he wouldn't admit it, not in public.

Deciding to end that moment, Tessarion decides to head towards the large cave that awaits her but before that, she shook her head in your direction as if saying goodbye to you. — You understand the sign and return a comforting smile to the dragon. With her heavy, sharp steps, Tessarion's image fades as she enters the cave.

Aemond was truly delighted to have witnessed his interaction with your dragon. — When you received your dragon, Aemond was witnessing it alongside his brothers and Jace.

Over those years, he'd been amazed at how a rider and a dragon had so much in common.

"You smell like a dragon, you know that?" — He asks, wanting your attention back.

"Just like you, my dear uncle." — You answer the eldest by staring into his single eye. — "A dragon knows a dragon, remember?"

You couldn't hide how nervous you were when you locked eyes with Aemond. Your body was so tense in the presence of the mystery prince. — Your body where he knew so well.

Running a hand through your loose hair, Aemond plays with a lock and watches you passionately. This was one of Aemond's ways of showing affection.

You wanted more than just a stroke of the hair, but you were out in public, in the eyes of anyone in the castle, and you soon tenderly accepted the affection.

"I missed you, niece." — He whispered to you, taking advantage of the fact that no guards were around. — "You have no idea how excited i was to hear that you were heading back to a place you should never have left…"

You were mesmerized and so focused on your uncle's words that you ignored everything and everyone around you.

"Well, there's a way to make me stay here by your side forever, my dear uncle." — You reveal with your voice starting to crack because of the excitement Aemond was causing you. Of course Aemond knew the answer, but what he wanted most at that moment was to hear it come out of your desirable mouth.

"Mm, and what would that be, princess?" — He moves closer, leaning against your face and you feel a big hot wave from the older man's breath. Aemond's strong scent made your body shudder automatically.

You were intoxicated by Aemond Targaryen.

"Make me your wife." — Slowly you finish the damn sentence that was expected by the eldest Targaryen. Aemond was watching your reddened lips as if they were the only source of life there was in life. He looked hungrily.

Exalting a deep, dark laugh, Aemond manages to startle you and make you swallow dry spit, awaiting the prince's next action.

"My dear, I've wanted this for so long and take my word that before your departure, you will be my wife and the future mother of my heirs." — You would say something, but in one swift movement, Aemond's lips were glued to yours. The feeling of worry and fear for the few guards who were present there disappeared from you and Aemond's sight.

Aemond wanted to kiss you and he always got what he wanted.

Your mouth was being devoured by Aemond's and you were sure your lips would come out red and swollen after that hungry and greedy kiss but you weren't worried about that — Oh no. — The only thing that crossed your mind were your lover's last words.

"The future mother of my heirs."

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x targaryen!reader #aemond targaryen x reader #hotd x reader #aemond fanfiction #aemond one eye #aemond the kinslayer #house of the dragon #game of thrones #targaryen reader #targaryen

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x-liv25-jamieswife · 4 days

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my long ass avery rant that might not make sense but i love her and needed to make this.

a huge rant about my love for avery (i swear im not hating on anyone (except for avery haters... sort of. i respect your opinion but...)) i think the end of my rant makes more sense than the beginning...

IVE MADE A POST ABOUT THIS BUT ILL SAY IT AGAIN. STOP OVERLOOKING AVERY'S TRAUMA. SHE IS SO UNDERRATED AND SUCH A COMPLEX CHARACTER AND I CAN'T STAND PEOPLE IGNORING HER. PEOPLE IN THIS FANDOM BARELY POST ABOUT HER AND IT'S UNBEARABLE (LIKE NO HATE CAUSE I LOVE ALL THE LYRA POSTS BUT HOW ARE PEOPLE POSTING MORE ABOUT A CHARACTER NO ONE KNOWS ABOUT AND NOT AVERY??? LIKE I SAID NOT HATE, I EAT THE LYRA POSTS UP).

she's literally the best character in the series. the brothers don't even come close to her. people who are mad at her for not picking grayson can actually just shove it up their ass bc gray and avery would've never worked out in the long run. avery is a queen and i see people hating on her for so many stupid reasons. not picking gray? giving away the money? being an emily 2.0????????????????????????????? don't even dare compare my queen, my love, my everything to that wretched beast who is now rotting in a coffin underground. some people making reviews on goodreads seriously need to get a life and touch some grass.

as im rereading the main trilogy, i'm writing down quotes from avery so i can make an in depth analysis of her character. it might suck and it will definitely be multiple parts but if no one is gonna acknowledge her trauma, i will. i'm sick and tired of people constantly ranting about grayson and other characters when avery is literally the main character. none of this series would exist if it weren't for avery. the fact that some people are willing to defend their favorite characters when they hurt avery is so so sad to me. like, i love jameson with my entire heart, but treating avery like a puzzle and messing with her self esteem was not cool of him. same goes for grayson and him treating avery like a shitty gold digger who 'hasn't struggled like he has'

i've made posts about this before but i feel the need to make another one. i've seen people defend grayson for treating avery like shit in the first book (some people do it as a joke which is fine but some people are actually serious and it confuses me??). i get that grayson was mad and disappointed that his grand father disinherited him after a lifetime of being told he was going to inherit. his feelings were 100% valid. did he have the right to take it out on avery though? no. not at all. this girl is even more confused that he is and has been nothing but kind to him. him invalidating her feelings and treating her like crap is just so shitty of him. don't get me wrong. he has redeemed himself and i do love him, but seeing people defending him (in a serious way) just gets on my nerves. would you like to be treated the way avery was in tig? i think not.

i'm not as mad about jameson bc 1. he apologized on 'screen' and 2. i don't see people defending him as much as grayson (i don't think i've ever seen a post defending him which is good). i love him too, and what he did was also horrible. i better not ever see a post defending him. his actions are explainable but that doesn't justify them. he really messed with avery's self-esteem, so much as to make her doubt his feelings towards her. the only reason i'm not as mad as with the grayson situation is bc i don't see people defending him as passionately (if at all).

i see this happen in so many fandoms. people gush over the male love interest or the male main character and completely ignore the fmc. the only fandom i don't see this happening in is the folk of the air fandom. jude is getting the attention she deserves which makes me so happy. people willingly ignore what the fmc goes through at the hands of their favorite male character just bc they love them and that is just so absurd to me.

anyways, avery has been through so much fucking trauma it would take me hours to go through it all. she grew up with almost no one by her side, learning how to take care of/protect herself, lost her mother at 15, her best friend moved away a few years before her mom died, her father treated her like dog shit and completely ignore her for her entire life until she inherited the money, she lived in her car, worked her ass off at school and at work to simply keep herself alive, had to deal with drake (although she wasn't his girlfriend, he clearly affected her if she was willing to move into her car bc of him), was almost killed by drake (and, indirectly, skye), sheffield, and eve (and kidnapped by sheffield), it was mentioned on tfg (i believe) that there were other attempts on her life in between thl and tfg, dealt with people constantly belittling her trauma (and her) and saying horrible things about her, she deals with horrible panic attacks after everything she's been through, also deals with crappy self esteem (that was made worse by some of the hawthornes), her privacy was constantly invaded, and, this one is more subtle, but there are instances where she thinks (or does) self harm (like the scene in thl where she's purposefully trying to hurt herself by punching the brick wall blocking off toby's wing. both oren and jameson had to step in to help her). all of these things clearly affected her but barely anyone talks about it? i'm probably missing some things but i just wish she got more attention. she is one of the most forgiving (literally too forgiving. she's willing to forgive people so easily bc she wants to be wanted (but doesn't want to want to be wanted) and have friends)

this girl is much stronger than anyone gives her credit for (the hawthornes would never survive in the 'asylum where they raised her' (whos afraid of little old me by avery is definitely her song)). this rant is probably all over the place and is really long (but definitely won't be the last). thank you for attending my ted talk.

#the inheritance games #jameson hawthorne #avery grambs #grayson hawthorne #nash hawthorne #xander hawthorne #libby grambs #averyjameson

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thesunfyre4446 · 1 month

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They’ve moved their hate onto Emma for simply saying that Rhaenyra lies and basically because Emma doesn’t hate Alicent/Olivia.

I don’t know who to blame? The school systems because comprehension skills and media literacy go hand and hand or the internet/technology because these people can’t seem to separate real life from fiction?

I hope one day this fandom (both sides green and black) can grab reality by the balls and take to heart that this is fiction because I don’t know how much more I can roll my eyes before they detach and roll away. How the cast has been treated from the beginning and especially these last several weeks is appalling and embarrassing.

And for the team black Stans who will undoubtedly read this, I just want to say

Baby, Alicent isn’t real. She can’t hurt you or fuck your geriatric Dads.

However the cast is real, show some fucking decorum and respect to these people entertaining you. This is some of these people’s big breaks and the dream job of others and you’re ruining this experience for them and shaping their future career paths and movements by not touching grass more often.

preach anon!!! (and if you've been in the fandom long enough, the hate emma got when it was announced that they'll be playing rhaenyra was appalling)

say what you want about the characters, but the way the fandom has been treating the cast ever since the promos dropped is disgusting. all of the cast is amazing and talented. all of them are doing a great job.

go touch some grass weirdos. you're ruining the fandom for everyone.

#hotd #house of the dragon #anti hotd fandom #hating on actors for doing their job is embarrassing

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sansaorgana · 9 months

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It's not caused by any recent situation, I've been thinking about it for a long time now but I have some things to say about fic writing.

Being a fic writer in a fandom might be the most ungrateful "job" in the community. I have lots of gif maker friends and I make mediocre gifs myself so I will compare these two a lot but I want to make it clear I don't want to say fic writers are more important or suffer more or anything like that because I value gif makers more than you can imagine.

– First of all, the whole cringe status around fic writing – especially x reader fanfics – is awful. I often see posts that whine about the fact that these fics even exist. People don't think twice, they just hit "post" and in result they are shaming other people for having innocent and creative hobbies. We spend real time of our real lives writing fics we love for ourselves but also for other people's enjoyment. For free. I really don't want to see posts about how cringe and silly fic writers are just because someone thinks they're superior in a fandom. It's a fucking Tumblr. Also, would you say the same about a person drawing fan art? I don't think so.

– I know there are some gifsets that take literally weeks to make but in most cases fic writing takes more time to create and at the same time it takes more time to consume. It's easy to hit a like or a reblog button under a gifset that you consumed in under a minute just like it's easy to ignore a fanfic because consuming it would take you more time. It's understandable but at the same time, if you read fanfics, reblog them at least. Leave some sort of feedback. Even one word or a reaction image. It really means a lot... And, once again, the lack of reblogs bothers gif makers as well, but I think in the case of fic writing it's mostly caused because y'all ashamed of admitting that you read these fics. Like who the fuck cares? It's not Facebook, no one here knows who you really are, who the fuck cares?

– Speaking of reactions under fics. Being like "Part Two" is considered to be extremely rude. We are not AI bots and we certainly won't force ourselves to write a second part because you demanded it without even commenting on the work itself or hitting a reblog button. If "Part Two" is all you have to say, then it's better to stay quiet.

– Also, readers who comment rudely under fics written for free like ??? So what he's out of character? So what he's a sad little meow meow in the movie but a ray of sunshine in this fic? You are not being forced to read it and there's a whole community of people preferring fluff to angst. If some fic is not your type, just ignore it. I guarantee you, there are other fics that are your type and if there are not, you're welcome to start writing yourself. I've also seen people starting dramas about some details in the smut fics. Like Jesus fucking Christ... Go touch some grass.

– What hurts the most is the prejudice from other content makers. I've seen some posts hating on/mocking fic writers that are coming from gif makers themselves. We're all on the same boat, we create fan art for the media we love. Why do we have to bring each other down? I am aware of the problem of gif stealing in the fic writing community but it mostly is caused by the fact these people don't know how to properly credit gifs with the gif tool. Believe me, most of the fic writers have a huge respect for the gif makers and I wish it went the other way around as well, even if you don't read fanfics, you don't have to be rude about people who do.

– Fan fiction writers are not desperate ugly teenagers locked in their parents' basement. Some of them are mothers, some of them have PhDs, some of them are doctors, some of them are just simple people who want to relax after a stressful day. The same things y'all be thinking of fic writers can be said about any content maker on this site because they also spend hours in front of a computer making fan arts or gifs of their favorite characters.

#sansaorgana's shitpost #***#fic writing #fan fiction #fan fic writing #fan fic stuff #fan fic things

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manias-wordcount · 10 months

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Can I request a Twlight Link where reader gets hurt? Like she gets hurt and starts to bleed a lot from her hand or something and Link's reaction and what he does? If not that's fine.

Just a Little Scratch (TP! Link x Reader)

𝗔/𝗡: 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗹𝗼𝘇 𝗳𝗮𝗻 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝟭𝟬+ 𝘆𝗲𝗮𝗿𝘀 𝗶𝗻 𝗺𝗲 𝗷𝘂𝗺𝗽𝗲𝗱 𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝘁𝗼 𝘄𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘀𝗼 𝗶 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗱𝗼𝗻𝘁 𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗱𝗶𝗿𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗶 𝘄𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝗪𝗛𝗔𝗛𝗔𝗛𝗔 𝗶 𝗵𝗮𝗱 𝗮 𝗹𝗼𝘁 𝗼𝗳 𝗳𝘂𝗻 𝘄𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘀𝗼 𝗶 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗲𝗻𝗷𝗼𝘆 𝗵𝗲𝗵𝗲

𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚: 𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗼𝗳 𝗶𝗻𝗷𝘂𝗿𝘆 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗯𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗱

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

𝙗𝙪𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚?

You’re not really sure what happened.

One minute you’re fine. One minute everything is dandy. There’s a smile on your face. Laughter spouting from your lips. You’re walking along the same path as you always do. Speaking to your childhood best friend as you always do. Enjoying the sounds of nature and animals and the peace like you always do. Wind in your hair. Sun in your sky. Everything fine. You’re doing just dandy.

But then the next minute, you’re out of breath, and your eyesight is blurry. Suddenly you find yourself a couple of feet away from the path, buried within tall, tall blades of grass as your back hits an even taller tree. Pain explodes on your arm, and you’re not really sure when you started crying. Not really sure of when you fell or if you tripped you managed to land so far away from the path you take to your favorite part of the woods near the village.

But all you know is that you’re here now, and you’re not sure what’s happening. Not sure what’s going on. Not sure why you hear the metallic smell of blood or the sharp crash of iron against iron. Not sure why you hear the muffled sounds of voices your mind is trying its hardest to put a name and face to. And an even lower, gruffer sound that your mind hopes it doesn’t even need to identify. But most of all? You’re not sure why it hurts so much to move your head or your arm. You’ve tripped and fallen before, haven’t you? So why does it hurt so much?

Why does it hurt so much?

Your answer comes after just a few minutes. Or is it a few seconds? You’re not really sure. You can’t really tell. But you know it starts with silence. No more clashing of iron. No more grunts and no more voices. The silence makes you scared. You’re not as disoriented as you were before, but the pain has grown on your arm and in your head. So you let your eyes flutter shut and have one hand clutch your other arm.

In an instant, some of the pain eases. Just a little. Or does the way you squeeze your arm just allow you to manage the feeling a little better? You’re not sure. Right now all you can think about is that dull ache in the back of your and the white-hot pain shooting up your arm, and how your skin feels so wet and sticky beneath your fingertips. Since when did you sweat so much? Was today a hot day? You can’t remember. You wore your long skirt today. The one with the pretty flower but the first pattern for hiding all the clumps of dirt that’ll eventually cling to you. Maybe you wore it because it was hot? Maybe you did because you-

A hand taps the side of your thigh.

The touch is gentle. It’s respectful even. Quick and fast before pulling away. Still, it causes you to hesitate. Your mind isn’t in the best state right now. Perhaps you hit it too hard on your way down? Maybe that’s why your legs feel like lead as they spread out in front of you. Maybe that’s why you feel like you don’t want to move another inch until this headache of yours goes away. Or maybe that’s why you-

Another tap at your thigh. A big firmer now. Still respectful, but a bit more concerned. You hesitate on opening your eyes. Not because you’re scared. But because it’s hard and it aches, and it hurts. But slowly, ever so slowly you do it. You let your eyes flutter open. You squint at the sun in its place above the trees. And you squint even harder at its rays as they break the foliage and shine all over you. The process is slow and it's agonizing and it way more effort than you think it should be. And by the time you finally manage to fully open your eyes?

“Link…”

He’s already there, reaching for your arm with two hands of your own.

“Link…” You whimper his name again, as one of his hands removes yours from your arm to inspect the damage himself. Blue eyes flicker to yours. And they soften at the sight of your quivering lips and your streaming tears. So he takes a second to hush you quietly. Humming over your whimpers with the most comforting hum he can produce. But all too soon his attention is back on your arm. And as your eyes follow his gaze, you find that you don’t like what you see. “Oh…”

You don’t like what you see at all.

“Shhh…” He hushes you once more when a look of panic starts to overtake your face. Your breathing labors and you try very, very hard not to squirm or struggle when Link takes your arm and moves it slightly closer to him so he can take a better look. “Shh, it’s okay. I’ll take care of this.”

You try to listen. You try to be good. Try to be quiet. Try to sit still. Try to believe. But all you can think about is jagged claw marks running up your forearm and all the blood that comes out from each individual cut. It drips and pours, and it stains, and it bleeds. Your arm is currently a mess of blood from your wound while your other hand has already been stained from grabbing at your arm earlier. Beneath where your arm was, you can see little splashes of your blood dotting the ground as single little droplets catch onto blades of grass. If you look closely now, you can ever make out the little blood splatters your dropping onto your beautiful long skirt with every second your wound is exposed.

In this moment of need, you try to look back at him for comfort, but he’s already making himself busy with using all his strength to carefully tear off some cloth from his undershirt. Though there’s a frown on his face. A growing frustration in his eyes. And a clench in his jaw. There’s something he’s upset about. Something you notice right as he moves to wrap your arm with the cloth he produced. You’re not sure what it means. You’re not sure who that look is directed to. But all you know is that look on his face only grows in intensity as he holds the cloth out nice and straight to wrap around your arm.

Only to realize the piece is too short to cover your entire wound.

A low sound bubbles up from his throat. His expression darkens, and you can’t hide the quiet whine that slips out at his sudden turn of emotion. Almost instantly, it freezes him in his tracks. You’re swallowing down another moan of pain when his gaze starts to slowly turn toward yours again. Your blood now stains his hands. Your tears now stain his memories. But even so, he looks at you in the eyes as if you’re the softest, sweetest, most scared creature he’s ever met. And he leans down and down and down and down. And he presses his lip against the back of your hand.

And some part of yourself is telling you that you’re already feeling better. That you’re already feeling brave. That you’re healing as quickly as that. And in between a couple of more whispered apologies and murmured words of encouragement, there are a few more kisses littered across your skin. One for every tear you shed. One for every injury you adorned. And for every call of his name.

You’re not sure what happened. You’re not sure how long it took. But slowly and surely, you find that you’re back on your feet. Pulled into his side with one of his arms securing your waist and the other squeezing the cloth against your poor, battered skin. And he takes you one step at a time. So you take it one step at a time. And every second of the way, the whispered words don’t stop. And every second of the way, the kisses find a new place to land against your body. Your forehead. Behind your ear. Against your cheek. Anywhere. Everywhere.

And every second of the way, you try to recall the soft little smiles and tiny little praises he gave you whenever you were doing so well for him. You try to recall that over the sight of his sword just barely sticking up from his back as he tried to help you onto your feet. The sight of his mighty, mighty sword now covered in blood.

You’re not sure what happened. But you have a feeling you won’t know what happened. At least, not for a little while. The ache in your head is strong. It becomes even stronger when you try to think. So you just count your steps and squeeze your childhood best friend tight. You’re glad you have him. You’re so glad he’s yours. But most of all? You’re glad you’re not going to end up like the man who Link tries to shield you from viewing as he guides you back home. Just a stranger in the middle of the road. Just a person enjoying the woods.

Or rather, just a body Link left for someone else to find.

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