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my-corneroftheworld · 2 years ago

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Child without love

Summary: Namor finds a marine biologist with the powers to control water and deep knowledge of the sea and is intrigued.

Word count: 1,5k

Tags: Smut!!! (no minors allowed), "water-bender" reader x Namor after the events from Wakanda forever, possessive Namor, mutant reader, asphyxiation, war, violence, harsh language, the usage of y/n, Overstimulation, Edging, I dunno if it needs a dub-con tag but imma just leave it here just in case (consent is key guys), unprotected sex (wrap it before you plow it guys), afab reader

Ps. I hope you're thirsty cuz we got some spicy scenes coming up. Also, keep in mind this is my first smut ever so it won't be perfect. If you don't wanna read it you can skip it and read the next chapter with no issue. As usual, I accept any constructive criticisms in the comments and I hope you enjoy it. Thank you as usual for all the support.

Masterlist

Chapter 4

It’s been weeks since our last encounter. After concluding our agreement I started training with Namora and sometimes even with Attuma. I always found it easier to knock him off his feet compared to her. She was fast and agile and so was he but the size difference made him the easier target. My skills developed far more quickly than ever before with the intense training. Though I'd hate to admit it to Namora, constantly getting beat down by her must have forced my power to align with my intentions. She was a great but strict teacher and I would be lying if I said I wasn't intimidated by her. Izel was present during most of my training hours, translating orders and feedback. Zyanya however usually left when it started, I don’t blame her, it was long hours and since her bump started showing, I have accepted that I might not see her after a few weeks. She has spoken to me and Izel about baby names but is still unsure what to choose. I’ve grown fond of her and Izel, I would even go as far as considering them as friends though I don't if they think the same of me.

The air was cold against my skin whiles I walked through the cave's interior. Occasionally I would stumble upon a guard and they would give me a knowing nod. This became a routine whenever I was plagued by thoughts and as a result, couldn't sleep. Everything came at night or at least I thought of it as night. Time seems to move differently here. Without clocks or the sun, I can never be sure how many days it's been. I miss the sun, the moon, the sand but I am glad I have the sea. I miss my friends and I miss Adeoye's concerned face. He would flip if he saw where I was and what I was doing. I wonder if they're looking for me or maybe they don't know that I'm missing. I hope that when the time comes I can save them.

After walking aimlessly for a while I found myself near his cabin. This wasn't my intention but I did want to see him. I wanted to ask about that night but I don't think it would be wise. What would I say? Why did you try to kiss me? Why did you stop? Even if we had kissed, what would that make me the woman who got kidnapped by a perceived god, trained to be his weapon and his side piece? It would be ridiculous to think he was interested in anything else but my power.

For all, I know this could be a manipulative tactic to keep me in line. A tactic that I am far too willing to fall for. I moved closer to the small abode; stopping at the entrance. I hesitated for a moment. I reached out and knocked on the wood near the curtain. There was no response. Nervously I gave a little "Hello?". Still no answer. I peeked past the curtain and found the cabin to be empty. I slowly walked in. Where is he? Maybe he only comes here from time to time. I guess this cabin is a bit too cozy for the ruler of Talokan. I looked over his desk and saw brown stacks of paper with some kind of writing on them. I really need to learn Yucatec Mayan. I'm sure Izel would tutor if I asked. I strolled around the room until I saw the bed and instinctively decided to sit on it. It felt so illegal, so wrong but I miss him. I just sat there looking at the room until I heard voices outside the cabin, out of panic I decided to hide underneath the bed. Not long after I saw two pairs of feet and realized it was Namora talking to him. From what I could make out from the tone of their voices they were discussing something important. Honestly, I couldn't care less because if any of them find me here I will never be able to live it down this is beyond embarrassing not to mention I'm trespassing. When Namora left the room, Ku'kulkan decided to sit by the table. I heard him sigh and then say:

"You can come out now"

A part of me didn't want to, I'd rather bury myself under this bed than face him like this but I knew that he would drag me out if I didn't, so I did. When I got up I was greeted by the man I was so desperate to see, sitting widespread with a cheeky smile on his face. He was making fun of me.

"I must admit I was surprised to find you here. I thought that a woman of science would be smarter than to enter a home uninvited."

"I didn't mean to. I just..." I stopped myself before I could admit it. My heartbeat quickened. This was a bad idea. He stood up from his chair and walked up to me. "You just what?" He looked at me with want for what, I did not know. I could feel his breath on my skin and smelled the dried saltwater on his. "I just...wanted to..." He moved his face toward mine etching ever so closely "what's wrong? Do make you nervous y/n?" I nodded fearing my voice would crack if I spoke. I moved back, stumbling on the bed as he followed. "Do you want me?" He asked. I suddenly felt like everything was too much. The room was too warm, the air too thick and he was too far away whiles simultaneously being too close. But I wanted him closer. "yes," I said in a whisper, and with that our lips met.

It was slow at first, we moved in sync with each other, and his hand began to touch my waist moving up to my chest and I his. But then he became hungry for more, he discarded my dress and started kissing my neck harshly. I could help but moan egging him he started making his way down past my chest to my already-soaked core. He parted my legs wide, seeing everything. It made me twitch with anticipation. He pushed my legs back onto my folding me slightly like a sandwich. He licked softly, slowly, and then began to increase the pace. His necklaces would graze past my thighs whiles he ate me out with precision and grace. It did not take long before I felt my orgasm approaching. I was a moaning mess wet mess beneath him and he made sure to keep eye contact which only increased the ecstasy of my experience. "I'm close" I whispered like a plea. "Don't stop"

He gave no indication that he heard nor cared for what I was saying and right when I was about to reach my peaked I realized why. He stopped and I almost cried at the sudden withdrawal. I looked at him with confusion and after a second he started his advancements again. And this became his procedure for the next hour. The ebb and flow of pleasure and denial. I was begging and crying for a release, saying I would do anything he wanted but he gave no response other than small sushes and "you can take it". I couldn't think of anything other than his tongue lapping and sucking my clit. The way his hand held my thighs up and gripped at my skin. All I knew was him and everything I worried about and everything I was didn't matter. In this moment all that mattered was him.

Suddenly he stopped and kissed my cheek before taking off his shorts and neckpieces. He moved back on top of me, kissing me as he aligned his tip before slowly pushing it in. The stretch was cathartic. My overstimulated core felt everything to the max. Like everything else, he started off slow before increasing to the most delicious pace. It did not take much for me to etch closer and closer to the edge hoping that he would let me cum. I said his name over and over again praying for him fuck me harder. The room was filled with the filthy sound of our skin slapping against each other as he granted my every wish. In my haze, I could see how my juices were all over his mouth and neck, I could see the sweat on his forehead making his hair adhere to his skin. I could hear the grunts and thinness of his breath and I knew he was close too. He pounded relentlessly as I felt the familiar electricity of my climax flush over me. He continued without missing a beat for a few moments more, leaving me crying from overstimulation, before he finished inside of me. He kissed me again between beaten breaths before I let my exhaustion take over.

#namor x y/n #tenoch huerta namor #tenoch huerta #tenoch huerta smut #tenoch huerta x reader #kukulcan #ku'kulkhan mcu x reader #mcu namor #namor x you #namor smut #namor fanfiction

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band--psycho · 2 years ago

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Jax Teller x Reader-Safe With You

I have been spending wayyy too much time on TikTok lately; and this trend has been all over my FYP, so I thought I'd post a story based on this quote with Jax Teller!💛

I'm contemplating doing more trends like this so keep your eyes peeled, and if you have any trends you like feel free to recommend them!

I hope you all enjoy this!💛

Y/ns POV

“You came?” I asked; the shock evident in my voice and I were pretty sure my eyes as I glanced up at the person standing in front of me.

Even after all these, he was still one of the only people that I trusted wholeheartedly.

He was also one of the only people that I feel safe around.

That’s why I called him, though I didn't actually expect him to come here.

And certainly not as quickly as he did.

Not after all these years

Ten years, to be exact.

Ten long years.

Ten years since I left Charming behind me.

And yet here stood the one and only Prince of Charming himself, Jackson Teller.

He hadn’t changed much at all.

He still had those piercing blue eyes, that I’m sure could stare into my very soul.

Yet, they seemed older, much older than Jax; a clear sign that things with the club hadn’t been easy.

Jaxs POV

“You called,” I answered simply; with a small comforting smile before I sat down next to Y/n. I rested my hand on hers before intertwining our fingers together.

Her eyes were bloodshot; she’d been crying.

I didn’t know why.

I didn’t need to.

Not really.

It was Y/n.

That was all that mattered.

And I knew that she wouldn’t call me unless something bad had happened.

I also knew that I’d be paying a little visit to whoever it was that had made her cry… once I found out who it was and what they had done to make my Y/n cry.

Tagging:

@xacatalepsyx @withmyteeth @rebelwrites @little-diable @beeroses @i-just-read-stuff @05supernatural20 @xbreezymeadowsx @poor-unfortunate-soul-85 @sassymox @munsinner @skyofficialxx @jitterbugs927 @samanthaofanarchy @the-mayan-queen @stillbreathin @lady-writes20 @lady-writes-flanagan @thexhostess @tempt-ress @beth-gallagher22 @oskea93 @lexondeck @bl3333h @choochoo284 @it-was-all-a-beautiful-dream @elliewigginton20 @thekaelicobain @rosieposie0624 @book-dragon03 @bookworm1767 @bestbitchsstuff @missbee1095 @xxemberlights @igotmajordaddyissues @thaliastregona @livingdeadblondequeen

#jax #jax teller x reader #jax teller imagines #jax teller imagine #jax teller soa #soa x reader #soa imagines #soa imagine #soa jax teller #jax teller sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy imagine #sons of anarchy x reader

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mrs-lockley · 2 years ago

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where the spirit meets the bones

Summary: Above, a merciful Sirena roams the seas of the East. Below, a lonely king seeks retribution. Your paths cross one war-torn night when you save the life of a man from the sea with feathered wings on his ankles and ears that point to the sky. Enchanted by your siren song, the feathered serpent king becomes determined to find you, even if he must wait for half a century.

Posted on AO3 here.

Pairing: Namor (K’uk’ulkan) x Filipina (Kapampangan)!Fem!Sirena!Reader

Word Count: 6.6k

Warnings: Mentions of colonization (burning of a Spanish flag in a sea storm but nothing graphic), mentions of drowning and burning (nothing explicit), slow burn (pun not intended), mutual yearning and pining, mentions of death and the afterlife. Physical descriptions of the reader include dark hair and eyes

Tagging: @justrunamok @artsynellyyy @theatreslave @musing-magpie @lostfleurs @alathan13 @velvetmel0n @mattmurdockswife @ameliachastain

Author’s Notes: Hello my darlings! After nearly two years, I have written my first fic. Please be gentle when giving feedback and I apologize if my writing is a bit rusty. But this fic is very loosely based on the Little Mermaid with some Philippine and Maya mythology.

The reader is Filipina, but from an unidentified region from the province of Pampanga, Philippines. Kapampangan is also the reader’s first language (and my second language) and does not speak Tagalog. This is the first part of a trilogy.

Translations: Kapampangan, Yucatec Mayan, and some Tagalog is used in the fic. For smaller phrases, translations are found throughout the fic in italics. For longer sentences in Kapampangan and Yucatec Mayan, translations are found at the end of the fic (with additional author’s notes).

Namor’s monologue is in italics in respect to his language. An online translating generator was used. If there are any errors in Kapampangan and/or Yucatec Mayan, please let me know and I will correct it.

How’s one to know I’d meet you where the spirit meets the bones in a faith forgotten land?

Lubao, Pampanga, June 1827

The moon was full when you rose to the surface, the night quieter than usual. Rain clouds begin to depart as the rain lightens into a steady downpour over the calming sea. The quiet after the storm, but your burning skin and aching bones say otherwise.

On the beach, a mother cries in relief as her daughter clears the water from her lungs, her arms immediately circling around her as she thanks Apong Díos and the angels above. Beside her, the father embraces his family with a joyous shout.

You had caught the girl wandering the beach earlier that evening at the peak of the rainstorm. It was high tide then, the water lapping too close and too angry as she ran along the shore. One moment she was playing on the sand, and the next, the ocean had tried to swallow her whole.

You fought against the current in search for her, your lungs aching for air as the water screamed in defiance. Your tail cramped as you dove beneath the surface, narrowly fitting between the crevices of the sharp rocks and stones. Only slivers of moonlight guided your path through the dark stormy waters.

But you found her a moment later with her head barely above water, her arms and legs thrashing to stay afloat. Her pleas for help were drowned over the sound of the beating ocean and pouring rain, falling deaf on human ears. The girl’s panicked movements only propelled her deeper into the sea, and it was a matter of seconds before she would draw her last breath.

Softly, you began to sing to her. At the sound of your voice, the girl began to still, her movements drawing to a halt as you approached her. Her eyes fluttered shut, but her breathing slowed as her body was calmed by your song. The water around you began to bend to your will the louder you sang, enchanting the creatures and tides around you into submission.

With ease, you wrapped your arms around the child and held them in a tight embrace as you swam to the shore. Her head on your shoulder, you continued to sing softly to her to quiet her mind and relax her body.

You returned her to the surface as you gently laid her body on the sand, your hand cradling the back of her head. In the distance, the yellow lights of a nearby village hut began to flicker with shadows racing across the window. Quickly, you brushed her hair out of her face and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, your hand squeezing hers.

“Gumising na.” Wake up.

At the sound of approaching voices, you released her hand and returned to the sea.

The little girl stands and holds onto her mother’s hands as they depart from the shore, but she hesitates. You watch as she tugs on her mother’s hands and turns to her, urgently pleading for her mother to listen. The mother gazes at the sea, her expression unreadable as her eyes search for answers. The girl turns and points, but her mother shakes her head and carries her in her arms as the father shields them both from the rain, retreating into the safety of their hut.

You ignore the sharp pang splintering in your chest before you turn, floating on your back with your arms outstretched and offering yourself to the sky. Up above, the clouds continue to depart as the rain slows into a whispering shower kissing your skin.

As you bask in the moonlight, you run your fingers over the curved surface of the golden pendant resting on your chest. It was the last relic of your past life, the only physical memory of who you were before the ocean had claimed you as its own. Tonight was far different than the last night you walked on land, but it was quieter nights like these where your mind wandered into the past. One by one, it all came back to you.

A gentle mother’s touch on your hand during a monsoon. A sister braiding your hair by the window. A father teaching you how to sail. A lover sneaking a kiss between dances.

The heaviness in your chest deepens, spreading to your neck and to your eyes as they sting with tears. With pieces of your past echoing in your mind, you look up to the night sky and beg for comfort. One hundred years you have served the ocean. One hundred years you have saved your people from drowning. One hundred years of protecting the secrets of the sea.

But it has also been one hundred years of loneliness.

You were unlike the other creatures who dwelled in the sea. While the sirenas feasted on men and dragged them to their deaths, you rescued them and returned them to the shore. The kataws walked on land and were mistaken for humans as they manipulated the water to their will, while you tamed the water to save the innocent. Siyokoys devoured mortals, but you loved your people who walked on the land and found beauty in their world. While you have the sea turtles and dolphins at your side, your heart remains heavy as they whisper behind you. You were not their kind, why would the ocean choose to have mercy on you?

Gazing at the moon with the water holding you close, you stretch your hands and pray. Why did save me? Must I always bear this loneliness?

The only answer you receive is the pause of rainfall and a full moon sighing in the sky.

Mérida, Yucatán Peninsula, July 1858

By the time you open your eyes, the last of the sun’s rays had settled under the sea with the cool ocean breeze tickling your skin. The dolphin who carried you whistles softly as you wake, its tail brushing against yours as it waits for your command.

“Dakal a salamat,” you whisper. Many thanks.

With a soft smile, you affectionately run your hands over the dolphin’s back as it clicks before disappearing into the sea.

You do not know how long or far you have traveled, but as you take in your surroundings, you realize that you have wandered into foreign territory. As the sky darkens into the blues, violets, and greens of the night, the ocean welcomes you into its soft embrace. Around you, the waves fall into a steady calmness. Just as you enchant humans with your voice, this new ocean comforts you in a strange way you could not quite understand, almost as if it were welcoming you home.

For a brief moment, you allow yourself to relax in these new waters by diving into its arms. As you swim beneath the surface, you find yourself finally able to breathe for the first time. You were far from your home in the Pacific, and you were far from the angry voices of the merfolk who haunted you.

“Alang cuenta,” the sirenas sneered at you when you had rescued stray fishermen from falling into their trap. Furious at your intrusion, your sisters lunged for you and tore at your tail and skin with their webbed claws and bared teeth. You screamed for mercy as you fought back, but their teeth and nails were stronger as they dragged you deeper into the darkness of the sea.

Either out of boredom or mercy, your sisters finished their prey upon you and left you in the cold depths of the ocean where the light of the sun did not reach. Hours passed before you were able to move and swim to the coral reefs where the dolphins and sea turtles found you nursing your wounds. With your arms covered in bites and your chest and tail in cuts, you found refuge in the dolphins and allowed them to carry you far away from your tormentors.

Rising to the surface, you push your hair back and run your hands over your face, suppressing a childish giggle at the realization of your newfound freedom. For weeks you traveled with the dolphins to escape their persecution. Despite spending the past one hundred years alone, for the first time in over a century, you feel nothing but relief. You were never welcomed by the creatures of the ocean back at home. Perhaps you could find a new home here.

You pause. Around you, the ocean suddenly grows cold as ripples slowly reverberate throughout the surface of the water. A chill descends your spine as you suddenly become breathless and frozen.

On the seashore, a man slowly rises from the water, holding a scepter adorned in engravings in one hand with his back turned to you. A golden plate rests on the back of his neck with matching cuffs on his arms, wrists, and legs reflecting the glow of the rising moon. A similar belt rests on his hips and above a pair of dark green shorts, the only article of clothing he wears. In the dim light, your eyes trace the broad expanse of his shoulders and the thick muscles of his back, arms, and legs. An air of regality surrounds him as he fully emerges from the water and stands in his full form.

This man is not human, you realize as he walks along the beach, the water yielding to his presence. He is a man of the sea.

Your brows furrow in confusion as he kneels on the sand.

Wings. There were wings on his ankles.

Something inside of you whispers to swim closer to the shore. With the waves beckoning towards you, you have no choice but to obey.

Holding your breath, you submerge yourself deeper into the water and hide behind a rock to avoid being seen. On the sand, the man with the winged ankles speaks softly in a language you don’t recognize.

“Jach tak in wilech,” he whispers and lowers his head. I miss you.

His movements and words are gentle as he places a white flower on the sand, his voice soft and low as he continues to speak. Your heart pounds in realization as you watch him revere someone who could not be seen. This was a grave.

Guilt consumes you as memories of your past life flood to the surface, your pendant weighing heavily on your chest. Turning away from the shore, you close your eyes to force down the tears that threaten to spill. How silly of you to think you could run away when your family rests at home across the ocean. Here, the water belongs to another. Who were you to leave your home behind and reside in a place as sacred as this?

Wiping at your eyes, you turn back to the shore and find the man speaking to the spirits. Even in the dim moonlight, you catch a glimpse of his face, his dark eyes full of emotion and grief.

Slowly, you reach for the sampaguita flowers in your hair and cradle them in your hands. One by one, you sing quietly to yourself as you place the flowers in the water. You linger for a few moments, your fingers running over the pendant on your chest as the water guides them to the beach.

“Patawad na,” you breathe. I’m sorry.

With a final prayer, you return to the sea.

On the beach, a soft hand reaches for the jasmine flowers. Dark eyes look to the horizon in search of the one who brought them, but the only answer given were the quiet waves lapping at the shore.

Gently, the man with the winged ankles places the white flowers on the sand, creating a trail from the grave and towards the spirit’s old home before disappearing into the water.

The only evidence of his arrival is soon washed away by the rising tide of the ocean.

Philippine Sea, near Manila, August 1894

Tonight was much like the last night you walked on land.

The air was laden with tension and uncertainty. Word from the fishermen and villagers had gone around that the conquistadors were having trouble with their colonies in the West. On the surface, you often found the land-dwellers running through the shadows of the trees in the jungle. The islands seemed to hum in anticipation at the whispers of a possible revolution.

In times like these, you turned a blind eye to your sisters drowning the oppressors on the beach. But your hands weren’t clean and bloodless either. As your sisters feasted on their flesh, you were the one to sing to them, distracting them with your sweet voice and innocent smile.

(You would do it again in a heartbeat, you soon realize. With each conquistador that steps into the water, another revolutionary returns safely home.)

But tonight was different from those quiet nights of revolutionaries lurking in the shadows of the jungle. Tonight was a war.

Lightning strikes through the stormy sky and fuels the flames licking at the near abandoned trade ship drowning in the fury of the summer typhoon. The white sails darken into ash as the Spanish flags fade into dust.

Around you, your sisters call to them with outstretched arms, promising to save them from a violent death. You do not sing to invite them further in, nor do you move when your sisters feed on their flesh. You watch silently as your enemies fall and drown to their death, your skin heated by the scorching fires of their sinking ships. With memories of your last night flashing through your mind, you gaze at the burning flags in contempt. It is only fitting that the last thing they see is your face before falling to their demise.

Suddenly, one of your sisters screams and points to the sky.

Aswang!*

The sirenas shriek and recede into the water as the remaining men on deck scream in terror. Lightning illuminates the sky once more and reveals the silhouette of the figure flying in the air.

Your breath stops in your throat as you glimpse at the figure, your eyes falling to their feet.

The man with the feathered wings on his ankles.

You look up at him, your heartbeat mirroring the resounding claps of thunder. The man with the wings pays no heed to your sisters retreating into the safety of the water. Instead, his gaze is focused on the colonizers clinging onto the debris of their sinking ships.

He raises his spear and strikes.

The ocean thirsts for violence as crimson stains its waters. With each strike of lightning and roar of thunder, the further the Spanish ships sink to the bottom of the sea. Screams and gunshots plague the night as the monsoon beats its anger onto the surface world. One by one, the colonizers perish by the sea, the bloodthirst of your sisters, or the man exacting his vengeance from above.

Your eyes widen. On the deck of the last ship sailing, a colonizer opens fire and aims his weapon at the sky.

“Saguli-!” You shout. Wait!

Everything moves in slow motion. Before the trigger is pulled, bursts of red, orange, and yellow blinds your vision. Your ears ring from the explosion as your left shoulder is consumed by a sharp pain that resembles shark teeth digging into your bones.

As your vision begins to clear, the rain continues to pour. Furls of silver smoke surround you as the burning fires devour the last wooden planks of the sunken ship. Despite the rumble of thunder and cries of the sea, the night is suddenly quiet with only the low crackle of flickering flames filling the silence. Your sisters have disappeared. The colonizers have perished.

In the sky, the man from the sea burns before falling into the water.

Without hesitation, you dive into the sea to search for him with the flickers of the dying flames guiding your path underwater. In the distance, the glint of his spear reflects the light of the surface fires with its owner sinking beside him, his eyes closed and his back covered in black ash.

Ignoring the pain in your shoulder, you wrap your arms around his torso and hold him close as you swim towards the surface.

Please be alive, you pray as you break through the water, your lungs aching as you carry the man in your arms. Please.

...

The monsoon begins to falter when dusk brightens the sky. The rain slows into a steady downpour and the wind turns from a thunderous gust and into a whispering breeze. Gray storm clouds weigh heavily in the sky, but cracks of sunlight peek through the horizon.

Tears burn your eyes as your cries echo in the cove. Pain engulfs your left shoulder and your body screams in agony from fighting against the violence of the waves and the rage from the skies. With a cry of pain, you push yourself up and untangle your arms from the body of the man you rescued. The man from the sea with feathered wings on his ankles.

A gasp of relief escapes your lips the moment you feel the steady drumming of his heartbeat underneath your trembling fingertips.

“Salamat,” you breathe, a childish laugh rumbling in your chest as you wipe at your eyes. “You’re alive.”

With a gentle hand, you brush his dark hair back. The dusky rays of sunlight kiss his tanned skin, casting shadows of the planes and contours of his peppered cheeks. Drops of jade sit beneath his pointed ears and mirror the jewel on his nose. Beads of white pearls and golden rings adorn his neck. A large plate rests on his chest with two deep blue serpents meeting in the middle, a large pearl sitting in the center.

In the dim light of the early morning, you cannot help but gaze in awe at the beautiful man laying in your arms.

Who is he? You wonder as you softly trail your hand from his hair and down his arm, a frown settling on your lips at the sight of dried blood and deep bruises at his side.

You glance back at his face once more. You should be afraid of him, a stranger from a foreign land who showed no mercy to his enemies. But despite the violence of the previous night, you remember the first night you saw him on the beach in the Atlantic. You remember his dark eyes full of grief, his gentle hands cradling the flowers, and his soft voice whispering in the wind.

The man sleeping before you now was not the same man that tormented his enemies at sea, but the man you met on that summer seashore.

Gently, you lean forward to caress his cheek and sing.

“Potang paintunan mu ku, lumwal ka, talanga ka. Akit me ing bulan a masala karin mikit kata. E na ka matakut, e na ku naman migaganaka, uling balu ku balang beni mikikit ka king laman ning bulan a masala.”

As you sing the last note, the man begins to stir.

Panic floods through you as you look down to find his hand wrapped around your right wrist. His grip is firm but gentle, with the heat of his skin warm against yours.

Swallowing the ache in your chest, you lean forward to cup his face with both of your hands, your thumbs stroking his cheeks as you gently press your lips to his forehead.

“Mikit tána pasibáyo,” you whisper. We will meet again.

With one last look, you squeeze his hand and retreat into the water.

…

Whispers of a man from the sea with feathered wings on his ankles spread across the surface. From the villagers and fishermen to the convoys and rulers, people spoke of his existence in hushed tones, afraid that speaking his name would incur his wrath. Parents passed his story to their children as folklore, but those who were old enough remembered seeing him walk along the beach before his footprints were washed away by the waves of the ocean.

K’uk’ulkan, they called him. The feathered serpent god.

The King of Talokan prided himself as a benevolent ruler and a protector of his people. For three hundred years, K’uk’ulkan kept their kingdom a secret under the sea. He lived, breathed, and bled for them, enduring the pain from the surface world to protect the Talokanil from the violence of the land-dwellers. For this, K’uk’ulkan reigned as their king, their feathered serpent ruler.

While tales of the feathered serpent were considered myths to the tribes on the beach, another name was whispered across the seven seas. From the clergy and the admirals, no one dared to speak the moniker out loud.

El niño sin amor, the Spanish priests warned. The child without love.

“Namor,” his enemies gasped as they looked up at him, their eyes wide with fear.

It had been five weeks since the Spanish ships departed from the Atlantic. Five weeks before he finally found the ships that had stolen the resources from his kingdom. As the monsoonal rain raged its wrath over the blazing fires of the splintering ships on a foreign sea he was not familiar with, Namor raised his spear and struck with no mercy.

It all unraveled so fast. One moment he vanquished his enemies, and the next he was swallowed by flames.

He vaguely remembered the ocean welcoming him as he fell from the sky. In the dark stillness of the water, Namor could only watch a dark shadow pass above him. Three hundred years he served his people as their king. Three hundred years he fought, protected, and bled for his kingdom. Maybe just this once, he could overcome the trials in Metnal* and leave the crown behind.

But the gods had other plans for the King of Talokan. Behind the dark veil of his eyes, a soft voice called out to him. The voice was different from the songs of the Talokanil and sung in a language he did not recognize. Her voice was lower, deeper, but sweet and comforting.

A siren song.

With eyes as heavy as stone, Namor willed his body to move, his hands grasping at rough skin. It was a song that willed him to return to the land of the living, willing him to carry the crown and breathe.

For a brief moment, he felt the ghost of her hands stroking his face and her lips on his skin. But when he opened his eyes, he found himself alone in a cove with the monsoon slowing into a whisper.

Running a tired hand over his face, Namor sits up and breathes a deep sigh. His lungs ache from the sharp exhale as he takes in his surroundings. Straight ahead, the wide entrance of the cove welcomes the quiet low tides of the sea. Despite the storm clouds, the horizon brightened into hues of deep blues and violets with the distant call of songbirds singing in the distance.

In the calmness of dawn, the King of Talokan could still hear the soft whispers of the siren song singing to him in the cove. Like a fog, his senses were enveloped by her, his skin prickling at the memory of her touch and his ears mistaking the sound of songbirds to the likeliness of her voice.

As he stands, his eyes flicker to the reflection of the rising sun in the water, a small burst of light catching his gaze. Ignoring the pain in his back, Namor rushes to where the edge of the rock meets the sea.

His heart pounds and his head spins as he cradles the item in his hand, his breath halting in his throat.

In his hand was a golden necklace with its delicate chain torn in two, a pendant of a small flower resting in the center.

The same flower he found on the Yucatán seashore.

“Yaan in kaxtikech,” he breathes. “Ma importa u tojol.”

I will find you, no matter the cost.

Philippine Sea, December 1910

It had been sixteen years since Namor heard you last.

The skies disagreed with him when he returned to the sea where you rescued him. For several months, the monsoons raged throughout the region. Time to time, he encountered trade ships from the North, South, East, and West sailing through the merciless monsoons. Other times, he found war on the sea with different flags flying through the wind and crimson being spilt on the waters. Echoes of gunshots, fire cannons, and war cries sounded throughout the night with the tumultuous tidal waves consuming everything in its path.

With each passing ship, Namor heard the distant sound of the siren songs calling to the unsuspecting sailors and soldiers. With their heads barely above water, he watched the sirens bewitch their prey, their eyes glassy and unseeing before falling to their death. More than once, he found himself entranced by their voices. But each time his ears registered their harmonies, he turned away.

Their voices were beautiful, but they were not you. They were not his sirena.

Only you were the one to enchant the feathered serpent king.

Tonight was different from that summer night, for it was the start of the dry season. Up above, the moon glowed brightly in the night sky without a single cloud in sight. The luminous glow of the moon reflected on the surface of the water, but its reflection was distorted by the growing ripples and the quiet tide of the sea.

The air cooled his skin as Namor reached the surface, his back turned to the full moon. It was almost as if no time had passed since the last time he was in the cove. Although the tides were lower, Namor could still hear the distant melody of your song echoing throughout the cove. It was as if he were drowning in you all over again.

Sixteen years ago, he first heard your siren song. But it had been fifty-two years since he first met you.

A deep ache ate at his chest that particular night. After distracting his generals and evading their watchful eyes, Namor sought refuge on the sand. For three hundred years, he reigned as the King of Talokan. When the crown became heavy to bear, he would slip away from his advisors and find solace in visiting his mother on the surface. He carried the souls of the departed in his heart and their memories in his mind, but sometimes the water suffocated him. Nearly two centuries have passed since he last laid his mother to rest and cleaned her bones, but her memory was clear as day in his mind. He may have been born in the water, but his mother had walked on land - it was all in his blood.

“The Talokanil look to me as their King, their God. I would do anything for them,” K’uk’ulkan whispered as he gently placed the water lilies on her grave. “Just as you did everything to protect me.”

He loved his people just as they loved him. He did not regret taking the throne at a young age and the responsibility of leading and protecting them, but there was a heaviness growing deep inside his chest. An emptiness that he often ignored, but was constantly consumed by its hand.

He remembered watching her hair turn silver and the fine lines settling on her skin as he remained young. In the eyes of many, he was still a child. Yet, he carried the years inside him as centuries passed, watching the people he loved age before they breathed their last breath.

“Every day I see our people grow old, but I remain young and know one day I will mourn and miss them as much as I miss you, na’*.”

The only memories K’uk’ulkan had of his father were the stories recounted to him by his mother. When he sat on her knee, he remembered the smile on her face as she showed him the bracelet she wore on her wrist. Tracing the pearls with his fingers, he could feel his father’s love radiating from each bead. Despite their circumstances, he admired the love his father had for his mother, the same love that he carried in his veins.

“I may be King, but I stand at the throne with no one to share it with, and sleep with no one to hold at my side,” K’uk’ulkan whispered. “I am lonely, na’. So incredibly lonely.”

He wondered what it would be like to love just as his parents did. To have someone to wake up next to, and to fall asleep with every night. To hold and be held by the arms of someone who loves you.

The King of Talokan did not expect an answer, nor did he expect to see white jasmine flowers drifting towards him on the seashore.

The very same flower that rests in his hands now.

The petals are soft in his hands as he places it on the quiet whispers of water. In the beginning, Namor thought of the flowers as a strange coincidence. He knew that such flowers were native to the lands in the East, but he had seen trade ships sail across oceans and between continents. It was possible that cargo could have fallen through the cracks.

Initially, Namor tried to ignore it and stop himself from jumping to conclusions, but something foreign gripped his heart. A small glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, there was someone out there meant for him to love and be loved.

It had all come together when he found your necklace on the rocks.

For sixteen years, your siren song haunted Namor. He had met sirens and other merfolk throughout his lifetime, but there was something different about your song that called to him. Other siren songs were meant to hypnotize their prey before they drowned or were sacrificed to water deities. Their songs meant destruction to anyone who heard their voice, but your song was sweeter, more gentle. Rather than death, your song brought him back to life.

That was something he still did not understand. Why would you save him?

With the jasmine flowers as an offering, the King of Talokan begins to sing.

“X ciih x ciichpan u tz�� u likil yook kaax; tu bin u hopbal tu chumuc can caan tux cu ch’uuytal u zazicunz yookol cab tu lacal kaax chen cici u tal iik u utz’ben booc.”

As he sings, the tidal waves begin to slow into a lull. The ocean did not dare to drown his melody.

“Pitah nookeex luuz u kaxil a holex ba teneex hee cohiceex uay yokol cabile x zuhuyex x chupalelex hel u.”

The water stills on his last note, but the ocean breeze carries his lullaby throughout the cove. His heart beats heavily, his grip tightening on the necklace as he turns. Dark brown eyes flicker to every corner and crevice of the cove and his ears strain to hear any sudden sounds that could indicate your presence.

It is not often that the feathered serpent god sings. Rare and far in between, the only times he ever sang with his heart was with his mother. She taught him the songs she learned when she was a child on the surface, especially this song.

“When I was young, my friends and I would gather and sing this song to keep and bring back a lover.”

“Did it work?”

His mother smiled sweetly at him and playfully poked the tip of his nose. She could not help but laugh when he scrunched his face. “It did. This song was how I met your father. It is the reason you are here.”

He holds his breath as he waits for your arrival in the cove. With each heartbeat echoing in his ears, a heaviness begins to settle in chest. Hope turns to fear, its icy hands crawling at his skin as the waves rise with the tide.

Shadows of the waves dance across the dimly lit walls. Above, the stars whisper to the moon as the celestial beings await your arrival.

Swallowing the growing ache in his heart, Namor turns his back to the moon and starts his way towards the darkness of the cove.

A small splash disturbs the silence.

“Maryu ka man kabug ning salu mu, saingsing mu panamdaman ku.”

The King stops in his tracks.

“Balu ku, atindian ku.”

It is you. His sirena.

“Akit me ing bulan a masala, karin mikit kata.”

Like ivy growing around a stone, your song ensnares him.

“E na ka tumakut, e na ku naman migaganaka.”

Slowly, he turns around. Underneath the silver halo of the bright moon, you rise to the surface.

“Uling balu ku balang bengi mikikit kata king lalam ning bulan a masala.”

Hanging onto each word, Namor walks towards the edge, his senses enveloped by you. Your voice is soft and deep, comforting and captivating as you swim closer to meet him.

“Parati mu sa’ng tandanan, muran man atiu ya ing bulan.”

Your dark eyes meet his gaze as you look up at him. His eyes never leave yours as you sing the final note with a small smile gracing your lips. Time seems to still, his heart skipping a beat as you finally meet where the land meets the sea.

You are more beautiful than he could have imagined. White jasmine flowers adorn your dark hair like little stars shining in the night sky. In the moonlight, he catches a glimpse of your dark green tail, its scales reflecting the glow of the moon beneath the surface of the water.

His sirena, his lool.*

He finally found you.

The feathered serpent god slowly falls to his knees right in front of you, his head bowed in respect.

“Because of you, my people still have a King,” his voice is gentle as he speaks. “You saved my life, and I will forever thank you.”

He still remembers that morning when he returned to his kingdom. For almost a week, Namor had left Talokan in search of the Spanish ships across the Pacific and placed his leadership into his advisors and top generals. This was not the first time he left to protect the borders and identity of Talokan, but it was the first time he did not come back on the day he promised.

Fear flooded his mind when he fell through the sky. He was always strong enough to destroy his enemies, but he was never this defenseless when his unconscious body hit the water. Any remaining survivors could have exploited his lack of defenses, but he was stunned to wake up in a sea cove with his wounds nearly healed.

You reach for him, your gentle hands cradling his face as you silently plead for him to look at you. Almost hesitantly, he follows your command.

“Who are you?”

He has many names, but he wishes for you to call him only by one name.

“My people call me K’uk’ulkan.”

K’uk’ulkan closes his eyes and leans into your touch as your fingers delicately trace his face, your voice enchanting him once more as you repeat his name.

He remembered your palm caressing his cheek and your lips on his skin. As King of Talokan, he often hid this soft side of himself away from his people. But with you, his walls crumbled like tidal waves dissolving castles in the sand.

Pulling himself out of his trance, he opens his eyes and covers your hand with his own, his thumb lightly tracing over your knuckles.

“What is your name?”

Your voice is quiet as you speak, almost as if you are hesitant to reveal yourself.

“Y/N.”

A beautiful name for a beautiful soul.

K’uk’ulkan repeats your name as he grasps your hand and gently raises it to his lips.

For a brief moment, the King catches a flicker of sadness in your eyes, but it vanishes as you conceal it with a small smile.

Little did he know that he is the first person to call you by your real name and touch you with such care in two hundred years.

Not wanting to frighten you, K’uk’ulkan softens his voice as he speaks. “I believe I have something that belongs to you.”

Confusion passes over your face, your brows furrowed and your lips parted in a silent question.

Although he did not know the importance of your necklace, he noticed the rust and scratches that eroded at the delicate metals. The necklace was worn with love, but it was crafted by human hands and not intended to withstand the cruelty of the ocean. With care, he brought the necklace to his jewelers to restore it to its former glory with the addition of two pearls and the revived jasmine pendant in the center.

A sharp gasp escapes your lips as he presents your necklace to you, your eyes wide as they brim with tears.

“May I?” He asks quietly.

You nod and bow your head.

With soft hands, the feathered serpent god leans forward and places it over your head. Once it settles over you, you cradle the pendant and pearls in your palms in awe.

“I thought that this was gone forever,” you whisper as you look up at him, a stray tear streaming down your cheek. “Thank you for bringing it back to me.”

“Nothing is gone forever, only lost until it is found.” K’uk’ulkan cups your face gently, his warm hand brushing away the tears that had fallen down your cheeks.

His heart warms at the sound of your soft laughter and the sight of your smile. How true his words were. In the fifty-two years he had met you, he thought you were a dream, a possible figment of his imagination that his mind created to cope with the growing emptiness in his bones. But you were real. You were the one watching over him when he found the flowers on the seashore and rescued him from the scorching fires that raged across the sea. He vowed to find you, but he had gotten it wrong.

Each time, you were the one to find him.

Looking into your eyes now, he finds himself drowning in them. Dark, deep, and inviting, a silent storm brewing inside of them. The King of Talokan had seen eyes like yours before– eyes that look young, but have seen years of pain, heartbreak, loss, and grief– yet, there was a vulnerability to them. Despite the centuries you carried in your heart, he knew and understood the violence you endured to be this kind.

You thread your fingers with his, your hands locked in a delicate embrace as you begin to pull yourself away from the rocks and swim closer to the waves.

You call his name tenderly, your voice a soft plea. “K’uk’ulkan.”

With a gentle tug on his hand, the feathered serpent god descends into the water.

Come with me.

There is no song to entice him. It is only you.

Long ago, K’uk’ulkan heard tales of a red string of fate that tied two soulmates together from the Far East. Perhaps it is the red string that pulls him closer to you now as you guide him deeper into the water, your hands entwined together, your lips whispering against his and your tail curling around his legs. With your dark eyes and gentle voice, he has no choice but to follow.

Only the bright full moon bears witness to the reunion of the sirena and her feathered serpent king disappearing into the sea.

Translations

Alang cuenta (Kapampangan) - Useless, no meaning

Aswang (Tagalog) - Monster

Potang paintunan mu ku, lumwal ka, talanga ka (Kapampangan) - When you look for me, go outside, look up

Akit me ing bulan a masala karin mikit kata (Kapampangan) - We will see each other when there is a bright moon.

E na ka matakut, e na ku naman migaganaka (Kapampangan) - Do not be afraid, do not worry.

Uling balu ku balang beni mikikit ka king laman ning bulan a masala (Kapampangan) - I know one night we will meet underneath a bright moon.

Na’ (Yucatec Mayan) - Mother

Metnal (Yucatec Mayan) - The Yucatec Mayan term for the Underworld. Not to be confused with Xibalba, “the Place of Fright.”

The Flower Song (Yucatec Mayan) - 1, 2

The Flower Song is originally ancient Maya lyrical poetry from the Songs of Dzitbalche. According to John Curl, the Flower Song was a “rite” to keep a lover that was traditionally sung by a group of women–typically under the supervision of an older woman– and performed under the moonlight. Later parts of the poem mention offering plumeria flowers to create a love potion.

For the purpose of this fic, K’uk’ulkan learned the song from his mother.

X ciih x ciichpan u tz’ u likil yook kaax; tu bin u hopbal tu chumuc can caan tux cu ch’uuytal u zazicunz yookol cab tu lacal kaax chen cici u tal iik u utz’ben booc - The most alluring moon has risen over the forest; it is going to burn suspended in the center of the sky to lighten all the earth, all the woods, all the lights shining on it all.

Pitah nookeex luuz u kaxil a holex ba teneex hee cohiceex uay yokol cabile x zuhuyex x chupalelex hel u - Take off your clothes, let down your hair, become as you were when you arrived here on Earth.

Maryu ka man kabug ning salu mu, saingsing mu panamdaman ku (Kapampangan) - Your chest/heart will feel heavy when we are apart

Parati mu sa’ng tandanan, muran man atiu ya ing bulan (Kapampangan) - Do not forget that the moon will be there when it rains.

For the complete lyrics and song, please refer to the YouTube link here.

#namor x reader #namor x fem!reader #k'uk'ulkan x reader #namor x filipino!reader #namor x filipina!reader #namor x woc!reader #namor x asian!reader #namor imagine #namor x you #the amount of research i poured into this to make sure i did it right- if there are any errors please let me know #please be gentle with your feedback too #I'm sorry for using emojis but i do not know HOW to make a nice banner like some y'all between paragraphs

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filthyfluffyfantasies · 1 year ago

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✧ ˚ 　· 　　 . DL;DR - this fic is not meant for anyone under the age of 18 as it contains the following: fighting/violence and vague mentions of injuries/blood, biting/marking, hints of a size/height kink on Opie's part, a territorial biker , again,all on Opie + the next contestant (EZ, he's your old boyfriend from high school, fyi.) dumb enough to try their luck, body fluids, hand jobs - female recieving / male recieving, body fluids -tell me you wouldn't cum on Opie's fingers, biting/marking, foreplay in a public setting, swearing, petnames, dirty talk and a slutty nurses costume. writer does not give permission for her works to be reposted, with or without permission. ✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

prompt twenty - costumes

character | fandom - opie winston | sons of anarchy

reader | original character - female reader, girlfriend & non -or vague, description.

words - roughly 2.5k

tagging -< taglist here >

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 . you thought you'd wear your little nurses costume out to a bar to tease Opie. Opie decides that he's had enough of your teasing so he takes you home... or at least out to his SUV. .✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

It’s laughable, at best. Cheesy at hell, at worst. But it’s a way to amuse yourselves, you think to yourself as you nurse a drink, eyes scanning the crowded bar, scoping out the people who actually showed up in costume tonight. You’re hoping you’ll catch sight of Opie but there’s no sign of him just yet. Your finger drags around the rim of the drink-filled glass after you’ve sat it down.

You’re just about to text Opie and see if he’s running late when a throat clears obnoxiously from the stool beside yours. The second you’ve glanced up and over, seen the Mayans cutte the guy is wearing, you’re on high alert.

He’s staring at you and rubbing his chin thoughtfully. ❝ Your old man know you’re out alone, baby girl?❞ he asks. You roll your eyes. It’s EZ, he loves to pop up and be an antagonistic shithead, he does it every chance he gets. He loves to remind you that you were once young enough -and stupid enough, to think you wanted him. It’s like it gets his ego pumping.

And with the tensions between both groups at an all time high as of late, it honestly feels like he’s stalking you. Because you can’t go anywhere in town without bumping into him lately, even work this morning. Oh, he claimed that he was just doing Angel a solid and bringing his kid by for a checkup but you’re not dumb. He spent 95 percent of his time sitting in the waiting room watching you like a hawk. And then, when he went to leave, he was both trying to flirt and insinuate that being with Opie could be dangerous for you right now.

But you don’t want to worry Opie, he’s got more than enough on his plate right now. Things with Samcro aren’t going smoothly at all. He’s already threatened to kick EZ’s teeth down his throat if he catches him breathing your air ever again.

When EZ chuckles and mumbles something to himself, you raise a brow and stare him down, unamused. ❝ Aren’t you on the wrong side of town, Reyes? ❞

❝ Bar’s neutral, chica. I just came t’ enjoy the costumes.. Relax.❞ EZ shrugs. Dark brown eyes flit over your body and when he licks his lips, it takes everything you possess not to slap the taste out of his mouth. He leans in just a little closer. ❝ You’re on th’ wrong side, baby girl.. If you were with me..❞ he pauses to take a sip of his Corona before continuing, ❝ I’d never let you outta my sight, especially not dressed like that.❞ he lets his eyes roam and you tug at the skirt of the nurses costume you’ve chosen, ❝Damn sure wouldn’t let what happened t’ his first old lady risk repeating. Can’t be too careful, right, chica?❞

❝ None of that was his fault, Reyes.❞ you roll your eyes and finish off your drink, eyes darting to the door of the bar before you turn your attention back to EZ, ❝ I’d rather fling myself into the sun, EZ.❞

❝ I think you’re lyin, chica.❞ EZ muses, scooting his stool just a little closer. ❝ We both know you’re not over me. Just admit it. Ya still want me.❞ he chuckles again. Bites his lip as his eyes flit over your body, lingering just a little too long on your tits. ❝ Maybe letting you go was a mistake..❞ he gestures to your body, the way you’ve filled out since you were a teenager.

❝ Oh yeah?❞ you sass, ❝ Maybe I grew up, Reyes. I promise you.. Nothing about you appeals to me anymore. At all.❞

You’re about to slip off your stool and text Opie that the plans changed as you’re walking out of the bar but EZ is determined not to let you leave.

What neither of you realizes is that Opie has come into the bar. And he’s caught the tail end of the entire tense confrontation. He knows damn well EZ is only trying to get to him and he knew as soon as he bumped into one of the other Mayans smoking out in the parking lot that he’d better get inside to you.

The fact that apparently EZ didn’t learn his lesson the last time they were face to face and the topic of you came up, well.. That combined with Opie Winston’s short fuse, lack of sleep the night before and just being fed up with the way the guy is always popping up, always has something to say lately.. Opie Winston is done playing.

You’ve just tried to put some distance between yourself and EZ when Opie appears out of nowhere, pushing himself up on you from behind. He chuckles, the sound is dry. Unamused.

A few of the patrons who happen to be sitting close are staring, quiet. Tense and ready for whatever might come next.

When EZ chuckles and you hear Opie’s trademark ‘startin to get real pissed off’ growl, you can feel your thighs clamp together as your panties start to get wet. When Opie goes into protective mode, it’s enough to make you want to tear his clothes off, no matter where the both of you happen to be. EZ steps up to you from the front. You’re now effectively wedged between the boy you used to want more than anything and the man you’ll love until you die.

❝ This shithead been botherin’ you, princess?❞ Opie’s voice is low and husky against the shell of your ear. You swallow down a whimper because you can feel his thick cock pressing right against your ass because you practically melted against his massive frame when he made his presence known. A rough hand squeezes your hip and he keeps you close.

He shoots EZ a murderous look. ❝ We’ve talked about this before, man.❞ he’s calm when he says it. Deathly calm. ❝ She’s mine, Reyes. I think I told you th’ next time I caught you sniffin around I was gonna curbstomp you into the fuckin pavement… Sound familiar?❞

EZ chuckles. He’s not bothered at all by Opie’s threats. He steps up to you, staring down. ❝ Think about it, baby girl. You know I’m not wrong.❞

❝ If you’re smart, Reyes, you’ll get out of here. My brother is already looking for one good reason to beat your ass in the ground. You know nothing, by the way..❞

EZ goes, but not without the parting jab, ❝ If you wanna keep your old lady, Winston.. Tell her to fuckin cover up when she leaves th’ house. I’d hate to find out somethin’ happened to her.. Seeing as how she was mine first.❞

And that’s the final straw. Opie shoves through the crowd gathered and catches up to EZ, grabbing hold of him to throw him against the wall. EZ shoves him back, the two men are swinging, shoving and ducking. EZ wrestles Opie to the ground and Opie flips them, a hand around EZ’s throat.

Until Angel strolls over.

❝ This fight is over.❞

Opie chuckles. Wiping blood from his mouth as he sizes up Angel. He’s still holding EZ against the barroom floor but he doesn’t care. He’ll take them both if he has to. The more you stand back and observe, the more turned on you are by just how fierce a protector your man truly is. People are staring and security is poised to strike, ready to throw out all parties involved because this particular bar is a known neutral territory and this kind of shit doesn’t usually fly.

❝ Yeah? See, I don’t agree, Angel.❞ Opie stands, towering over Angel. Sneering. ❝ I’m about fucking tired of your idiot brother sniffing around my girl.❞

Angel grumbles under his breath. And he steps up to Opie, smirking. ❝ What’s the matter, Winston? Feeling threatened?❞

❝ Not at all.❞ Opie’s smirking again. Chuckling to himself. ❝ Do I look like I feel threatened by either of you assholes?❞

Angel spots Tig and Chibs making their way into the bar. It’s now three against two. And Angel just doesn’t feel like this is worth his time. He smirks at Opie. ❝ You’re lucky I’m feeling generous tonight, Winston. Touch my brother again and I’ll fuck you up.❞

❝ If your brother even breathes around my girl again, I’ll fuck him up.❞ Opie’s calm when he says it. As Angel helps his brother up and out the door of the bar, Opie turns to you. As soon as your costume for the night registers with him, he’s speechless for a good ten seconds. But as soon as that’s over, he’s stepping up into you as if he’s trying to form a shield.

❝ Sorry I’m runnin late.❞ he mumbles against your mouth as his finds yours and one of his massive hands creeps up the short skirt of the costume, rubbing your barely covered cunt. As soon as he realizes just how flimsy the underwear you’re wearing is, he forgets himself for a few seconds, bucking into you while growling low and quiet against the shell of your ear, ❝ We’re not gonna make it t’ the stupid costume contest, darlin.. I’m takin you home..❞

You’re hauled up his body and he walks past Tig and Chibs, Tig calling out with a laugh, ❝ Leavin so soon, Winston?❞

❝ I got better things t’ do, Trager.❞

❝ People, Winston❞ Tig is smirking, you can see him when Opie turns back to flip him off with the hand that isn’t holding onto you, ❝ Fixed it for ya, Winston.❞

You laugh. ❝ Take me home, Opie. We can’t help it that Tig’s jealous.❞

Tig mocks you and waves his hands dismissively. Opie wastes no time getting you out into the parking lot and the second he has, you’re sat down on one of the picnic tables in the smoking area by the front door. Opie’s stepping between your legs and staring down at you, pupils shot with lust and his hands all over you, not caring who might or might not see. He leans down into you as his hand settles in the hair at the back of your head and he tugs you into a deep kiss. His other hand creeps up the bottom of the skirt as he bucks himself into you clumsily. ❝ Woman, are you trying to kill me?❞ he asks in a husky voice as the kiss finally breaks, ❝ I haven’t been able to fuckin think straight since that upskirt picture you sent me this morning. Fuck..❞

You can’t help but giggle and you shrug. Playing totally innocent when you tell him that you weren’t trying to do anything, you just thought he might appreciate the view on his lunch break.

❝ I dropped my goddamn wrench, woman. Open my phone and the first thing I see is that sexy little body…❞ Opie’s teasing, chuckling against your ear. A thick digit slips into the fabric covering your cunt and he drags it right between your folds. You whine into his mouth, rocking yourself against his finger as you warn, ❝ We gonna give Charming a show tonight, baby?❞

Opie chuckles. Nips roughly at your bottom lip as he responds quietly, ❝ Tempting as that sounds, no. I’m gonna take you home.❞ he pulls you up into his arms again and then he continues, ❝ And then I’m gonna fuck you until you can’t remember anything but my name. After I rip that costume off your pretty little body, baby girl. Is that good enough for you?❞ he’s smirking, especially when you start to rub yourself against him and your legs squeeze his waist tighter. He’s never said anything but he loves the fact that you’re so short. And flexible. With a soft pair of thighs and an ass he’s bitten a time or two because it’s just that juicy. He loves the way it feels when he’s carrying you all wrapped around him like this, your soft little body pressed right against his. Nothing makes him hornier.

❝Fuck.❞ you whine out, biting down on your bottom lip when Opie pauses at the door of his SUV and you find yourself pressed up against it. He’s trying to open it without stopping what he started when he was fingering you while you sat on top of the picnic table. You moan because his fingers are buried inside you, fucking into you and all you want is his cock.

❝ You kiss your daddy with that mouth, princess?❞ Opie teases with a laugh as he sits you in the passenger seat of the SUV and steps between your legs again. You know it’ll drive him crazy, maybe that’s why you choose to respond, ❝ I dunno.. Do I, baby?❞

You’re leaned back against the seat faster than you can process, Opie’s hands and mouth are all over you again, he’s leaving visible marks on your neck and throat as his hands slip up your skirt, fingers burying in your dripping cunt and the other one ends up beneath your shirt, below your bra. As he squeezes your tits and rolls his thumb over your nipple, you’re shivering. Begging for it, telling him how hot and bothered you were watching him stand up for you back inside the bar. Your hand trails down, slipping down the front of his pants. When you start to caress and pump his cock, he’s bucking against your hand, growling against your mouth as he deepens the kiss, lips straying from yours to drag down your neck, latching against skin. The movement of your hand stops and you’re rubbing against him, desperate for more than his fingers buried inside of you and your hand wrapped around his cock. You’re holding onto the waistband of his jeans and he’s slipped his hand out from beneath your shirt, now he’s squeezing your hip. Rubbing you against him because he knows you’re needy right now and he’s needy too.

❝ I can’t fucking wait to get home and tear that costume off that pretty little body, princess. You knew what you were doing when you wore it.❞ he’s chuckling when he says it and you pretend to be clueless which prompts him to grab your hand and slip it down his pants again. When your hand circles his cock again, his breath catches and his head falls back. But then he’s plucking your hand off, pulling it out of his pants. ❝ Home. Now.❞ he growls as he gives you a few more biting and deep kisses and licks the fingers he had buried inside your dripping cunt clean, gripping your jaw to make you watch the entire time. ❝ I’m not makin a mess of my jeans when I can cum inside you, angel.. Don’t y’ want that?❞ he questions.

You whine and nod. You want it more than anything. You love the way it feels when Opie’s fucking you, filling you up with his cum. And when he fucks it back into you after he’s finished…

Just the thought has you begging to be taken home.

#opie winston #opie winston fanfiction #opie winston fanfic #opie winston x reader #opie winston x y/n #opie winston x you #🔞ɴғᴡ. ᴍɪɴᴏʀs ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ʀɪsᴋ.#( ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ʟɪsᴛ ✓ )#lazyghoulskinktober2023

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fl3shm4id3n · 2 years ago

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𝕿𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊 𝖎𝖘 𝖆 𝖋𝖎𝖗𝖊 𝖇𝖊𝖙𝖜𝖊𝖊𝖓 𝖀𝖘

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐧, 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐛𝐢𝐭 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐮𝐥𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲/𝐧 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐬𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐭𝐥𝐢 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐫, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐞𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐧𝐚'𝐯𝐢.

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ɴᴇᴛᴇʏᴀᴍ x ɢɴ! ɴᴀ'ᴠɪ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ x ᴀᴏ'ɴᴜɴɢ

Tw: y/n being a bit mean, wounds, bit of jealousy, hunting, blood, skinning, cooking

Author’s note: I hope you guys like this part too, the reason why I used jaguar patterns on the na’vi was because I looked up an animals the Mayans worshipped and I came across the Jaguars. Writing about food makes me hungry XD

P.s. Also, idk how many parts of this series I should make, perhaps another ten? Or thirteen maybe?

Masterlist

After breakfast, while Neytiri and Ronal went to talk with Nicté, both Y/n and Yolotli guided the boys around, showing them places they could go explore and such. The whole time, Y/n had been talking along with swearing in Yucatec, both Neteyam and Ao’nung had no idea what they had been saying, Yolotli had to translate to them, she apologized when Y/n had calledd them an insult such as ‘Idiota’, it was their own word for Skxawng.

The group of teens had arrived at a small opening in the forest, that was around where the volcano was. Some girls who they assumed were y/n’s friends tagged along, again speaking in Yucatec to one another. They kept looking at them males and saying things about them, some had been staring a bit to long at them, even giving them smiles and giggling when they caught the boys off guard.

“Okay, first, you must make a bond with the Nì’awve “ she said, turning to the woods and began to make a hissing noise, having her tongue between her teeth. Then movements from the bushes came, two large creatures came out. they were large snakes with coal colored skin that apparently was hard as the volcanic rock, they were almost as big as a Thanator. “You must bond with them, once the bond is done, then you will learn the ways of how to control fire” she said.

Y/n had been chating with her friends, then she saw that the Ni’awve had arrived, then stopped and said. “Le ba'ala' kun u jats'utsile' “ this should be fun, then they departed from her friends walked over next to Yolotli. “Who wants to go first? I mean unless you’re scared” they said making the other girls laugh. Yolotli gave them a warning look. Neteyam and Ao’nung looked at one another. “I’ll go” Neteyam said walking over.

“Okay, just stay calm” Yolotli said as she helped Neteyam get onto the beast. “Its important to have a good position” she said as she began to position him the proper way. Yolotli then carefully went behind the beast’s head and got a small antenna. “Here, make the bond” she said as Neteyam then grabbed his queue and attached it to the beasts. Then the Ni’awve began to shift harshly, but he held on tightly to the beasts. “Its okay, be calm” Yolotli said as Y/n was holding back laughter “you also, might want to hang on tightly” they said as then the Beast just took off.

Neteyam held onto it for dear life, the Ni’awve was going too fast, he tried to remain calm but the beasts movements were making it difficult. The beast continued to move fast and out of control, then out of no where the animal had thrown Neteyam off. He had landed on the floor hard, while he was laying on the floor in pain, he heard the group of girls and Y/n laughing their heads off.

“Neteyam!” Yolotli shouted as she ran over to the boy on the ground. “Are you okay?” she asked, helping him sit up. “Yeah, just... in pain” he said rubbing his back. “Its okay, I fell my first time too, would you like to try another day?” she asked then Neteyam shook his head. “No, I’ll do it again” he said as Yolotli nodded and helped him up, walking over to where the beast went, back to the group.

Y/n was still chuckling with tears in her eyes, Neteyam also noticed that Ao’nung was trying so hard not to laugh. “Sorry, its just” Ao’nung said as he then just laughed. Neteyam glared at him, this reminded him of the time when Lo’ak had fallen off his Ilu. “Are you going again or have you give up already?” y/n asked Neteyam who walked over back to the beast. “I’m going again” he said as Yolotli got a settle for the beast, she got it from one of the girls who was holding two saddles. Once she put the settle on the beast, Neteyam hopped on, sitting on the beast’s back. “Suit yourself” y/n said smirking at them. Yolotli gave Neteyam an apologetic look “be careful” she said.

Neteyam connected his queue into the beast, then the beast took off again. This time Neteyam was holding tightly onto the saddle. When the beast took off, this time Neteyam held on tightly into the saddle, he was going to bond with the beast no matter what, even if he had to fall accouple more times, he will bond with it. After a little while from riding the Ni’awve he didn’t fall, this time the creature seemed more friendly towards him. He had bonded with the beast.

He let out a victory cry, also seeing that the group of girls looked stoned, they celebrated as well. Yolotli ran over to him with a smile on her face. “You did it! You bonded!” smiling at him. Neteyam had forgotten about his injury, after wards he then felt the pain come back. The adrenaline had worn off and he groaned in pain. Yolotli than helped him down from his now beast. “You okay?” she asked as he just nodded. “Yeah, it just hurts” he mumbled as Yolotli walked him over to y/n.

“Y/n/n? Can you take Neteyam to mama?” she asked as y/n who had not said a word nodded. “Yeah, lets go” they said, leading Neteyam away while Yolotli helped Ao’nung. As they walked side to side, y/n spoke. “I had to admit, that was impressive of you Netnet” they said smirking at the boy, they noticed how his cheeks turned purple. “Thank you” he said as they both arrived at a small hut

It was similar to a home like his temporary one, except there was a small cot, two little stoles, some herbs hanging on the wall, and on the middle was small fire bit, which was lit while a small caldron hanged above the fire. He saw a woman there, she was making something on the small table that was on the corner of the hut. “Mama? I need your help” y/n said as the woman turn to look at her.

The woman was just like everyone else, pale skin, and dotted patterns. Her eyes were a golden color, her hair was as long as her queue, she was wearing an bld dark blue huipil skirt with different patterns, that went from her waist to her calves, she had no top on, thankfully her hair was the thing that covered her chest. She had also had a symbol drawn on her chest and others symbols on her cheeks near her mouth. She had wooden earrings and a piercing at the bottom of her lip just like Yolotli. Neteyam did not miss her beauty, she seemed as if she was gift from Eywa.

“Oh, what happened?” the women asked, taking Neteyam by the arm gently, guiding him to sit on the stole. “He fell off the Ni’awve” y/n said chuckling, the woman examined him. There were some scrapes on his back and elbows, the woman then got some water from a bucket and began to clean his wounds with a cloth. She had a very gentle touch “y/n make some tea” the woman said as y/n nodded and got to making tea. They took some dried herbs from the wall and got to work, crushing the leaves and putting them in the caldron with water to boil.

After the woman was done cleaning his wounds, she got a little bowl with a strange colored paste and began to put some of the paste on him. Neteyam winced in pain, it burned. “I’m sorry that it hurts, but this should heal your wounds.” The woman said as she she continued. Y/n had approached with a cup, that had the steaming tea and handed it to the woman. “Here drink this, it may taste bad but it will help with the pain, it best to drink it hot” she said smiling. Neteyam nodded and drank the tea fast, it tasted horrible and it was hot.

“Oh, how rude of me, I haven’t introduced myself. My name is Patli, I am the mother of both y/n and Yolotli.” She said kindly at the boy. “Its a pleasure to meet you” he said smiling at her. Patli smiled and walked over to the table that had freshly cut herbs, taking some and tied them with a smile string. She walked over and handed them to him, along with a little wooden tin with that paste. “If the pain comes back, you can make a tea with these herbs or you can chew them. They should take the pain away.” She said kindly. “Thank you ma’am” Neteyam said respectfully to her.

“Okay, we’ll be on our way” y/n said as Patli pulled them into a side hug and kissed their forehead. “Stay out of trouble now” she said as but y/n let out a dramatic gasp “me? causing trouble? never” they said as Patli gave her a look of ‘I know how you are’. Both y/n and Neteyam walked out of the hut. “Patli is very nice” Neteyam said as y/n responded as they walked back to where the rest of the teens were. “I mean, where do you think Yolotli got her kindness?” they said. “So, it was her that birthed her?” he asked as y/n nodded. “Yup! and my other mother Nicte gave birth to me” they said. Now it made since, y/n shared a lot of Nicte’s traits and Yolotli shared a lot from Patli’s traits.

When they returned to the spot, Ao’nung was on the back of an Ni’awve, he seemed to had got the hang of beast, he probably already bonded with it. The group of girls then spotted Neteyam and ran towards his direction, all the girls had tried to get a hold of him. “That was so amazing!” one of them said, then another much taller girl chimed in “yeah, who would of thought a forest na’vi would bond with a Ni’awve” she said a bit too flirty. Other girls had chimed in talking over each other, completing Neteyam.

Y/n had been watching the whole time, and for some reason, they did not liked how her friends were putting hands on the boy na’vi. They glared at the group of girls trying to get Neteyam’s attention. “He is a ladies magnet alright” Ao’nung who was now standing next to you said. “Really?” y/n asked looking at him, the Metkayina boy nodded “Yup, back home he had a load of girls chasing after him.” He said as Y/n continued to watch. “Where is Yolotli?” they asked “oh, she went with my mother and Neytiri, she said she wanted to teach them how to cook stuff from here.” He said.

Then y/n got an idea “would you like to go hunting?” they asked as Ao’nung saw the smirk on their face, a toothy smirk he already knew to well. He couldn’t help but also notice some jade gems on their teeth. “Sure, why not” he said as Neteyam had managed to get away from the group of girls towards Ao’nung and y/n. “What are you two planning?” he asked as y/n responded. “We’re going hunting, I want to see how good you are” they said as they began to walk away. The boys followed y/n, they had gone towards her home which was the giant pyramid. They walked all the way to the top, y/n had no problem, but both Ao’nung and Neteyam got exhausted, as soon as they got to the top, they dropped to the floor trying to catch their breath. Y/n had gone in to get their weapon of choice.

Once they came out, they had three spears, a knife and a Macuahuitl. “Come on, lets go” they said walking down the steps. The boys looked at each other then groaned. They all walked down the steps, again both boys were exhausted. The trio reached the forest, then y/n began to give each boy a spear. They had tied their Macuahuitl onto their hip. “Okay, now that we are all set, lets go.” They said as they went into the woods.

They went deep into the woods, trying to find a prey. They continued to walk until y/n stopped. “Listen” they said, they all stayed quiet, listening to the forest at first but they began to hear heavy sounds, sounds of an animal. Y/n then began to climb on a tree, Neteyam followed while Ao’nung also followed but he had was having a difficult time climbing. Y/n crawled near a hug branch, staying quiet as possible, looking down, spotting a Tapirus, by it self, eating the grass peacefully.

y/n turned to see the boys behind them, they lifted their finger to their lip, signaling them to stay quiet. They then got their spear, aiming the weapon towards the animal. y/n waited for a bit before throwing the weapon, hitting the creature in the right spot, instantly killing it. “Yes!” y/n said in victory, both Neteyam and Ao’nung were surprised. “Damn” Neteyam said as Ao’nung had his jaw dropped. “I guess we’ll be having menudo or may be Chile Colorado” they said as they jumped down to retrieve the creature, the boys followed behind. “Chile what now?” Ao’nung said confused making y/n roll their eyes. “Chile Colorado, its a dish, very spicy, the spicier the better for me” they said.

Y/n pulled out the spear from the creature, getting some blood on them, some landed on their face. They touched the spot on their cheek which had blood, and they licked the blood of their fingers. Neteyam and Ao’nung looked at one another surprised by their action. “So, where else should we hunt for?” they asked as Neteyam then said “Fish? Do you guys eat fish?” he asked as y/n responded “we rarely eat fish, we like to eat meat, we could go for some fish” they said. Y/n had picked up the animal, carrying it on their back as if it were nothing to them.

“Would you like me to carry it for you?” Neteyam asked as y/n looked at him with an eye brow raised. “Are you sure?” they asked as Neteyam nodded. “Okay” they said removing the animal from their back and put it on Neteyam’s back. As soon as the beast was on his back, he nearly fell, the creature was heavier than him, he tried to stay up the creature’s heaviness was greater. “You need help there?” Ao’nung asked with a smirk. “N-no.. I’m doing just fine” he said as he nearly was about to fall. “Yeah, give it here” y/n said taking the creature off his back. “You okay?” they asked Neteyam who was catching his breath. “Never.. been better..” he said trying to catch his breath.

They continued their hunting. They had arrived at a river nearby, both boys had jumped into the water in search for fish. They had been in the river for a while, catching as many fish as they could. After a while they had got a lot of fish, enough for a lot of people eat. They began to head back to the village, back to the boy’s temporary home. Yolotli had been there helping both Ronal and Neytiri with the cooking. She had brought them a clay cooking pot along with other dishes. “We’re back” Neteyam said getting their attention. “Oh you brought Tapirus” Yolotli said as Y/n placed the creature down “yeah, we could teach them how to make Chile Colorado.” They suggested, as Yolotli responded. “That sounds good, I’ll have to go get some Red Chiles though” she said giving both Ronal and Neytiri a polite smile and living to get red chiles.

Y/n began to skin the animal while both Ao’nung and Neteyam watched, as they skinned the fish they brought. The boys had skinned animals before, but they this was different, they watched them with fascination, as if they wanted to watch them do this for a life time. They were both snapped out of their thought when Ronal had called them over to bring her the fish. Y/n had put the remainings of the animal in a basket so that they could feed it to the Ni’awve. Yolotli had returned with the chiles. That whole after noon they had been cooking. Since they were going to stay with them for a while, they might as well learn.

Yolotli had been teaching both adult women how to make the red Chile Sause, while y/n was showing the two boys how to cook the Tapirus meet for the stew. They also added other ingredients to the stew. They had also introduced them to red rice. After the food was ready, Neteyam and Ao’nung had invited both y/n and Yolotli to stay for dinner, as a way to thank them in helping them that they. They both stayed to eat dinner with the family.

Everyone was talking about their day and other stuff that will be happening towards the week. During the conversation, Ao’nung mouth had been on fire, due to the food being very spicy, he nearly drank all the water just to cool off his tongue. Y/n had been laughing since they weren’t used to eating spicy things. Both Y/n and Yolotli had been eating the spicy stew as if it were no problem. After dinner, y/n and Yolotli helped clean up and left back home due to getting dark.

That night both Neteyam and Ao’nung couldn’t really sleep, they had been thinking y/n and y/n only. They really couldn’t understand why they had been thinking of the Tsahìk ‘s child. They weren’t sure why, but they both knew that sooner or later something more might happen.

Taglist: @Katelyn1234, @1witch-hybrid1, @luvlykrispy, @luvkeu, @ssc7514, @spqce-buns, @eywaheardyou, @blueberry-thrawn , @zatarias-pandora, @randomspamposts

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ars-matron · 10 months ago

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The Tarot Sequence Reread

Nothing has given me brain rot in a long while like the Tarot Sequence by K D Edwards has. And since I just finished reading all the supplemental stuff right when my hold for The Last Sun came back up I thought I would do something I have only done once before-and in a much less flattering way for a book I hated-and live blog my reread.

There's just so much in this series I need to pay closer attention to. And usually I would go on here and read some metas, but there is literally nothing!! The only things in the tags for this series is people wishing there were more people reading it, a handful of very wonderful fanarts, and an account of the decline of a discord that evidently used to exist for it. So, maybe this will encourage some people to read the books too.

Because there are some heavy topics in this series anytime I talk about such topics I will tag for them, but if they don't come up in the chapters I'm reviewing, I won't. So if you have certain things back listed you might not see all my posts on it. Anyone who is reading along and is curious about it can DM me.

NOW! Predictions and things I want to pay attention to under the cut for spoiler reasons.

The Tower. At the end of the prologue of the first book my thoughts were, " So we trust NO ONE!!" Except Queenie, because why would Rune and Brand live with her if she was evil? Then the children showed up and I had to trust them, they were too young to be part of the, whole thing, plus they are so cute. You have to trust them. And then Addam came along, and of course we trust him, he's an Addam, he's a giant dancing teddy bear and I love him! So I read the whole series (that's out so far) expecting we would find out the Tower was an evil guy, that he had had something to do with the fall of the Sun Throne. Honestly by the end of the third book I didn't think that any longer, and I was starting to before that after finding out he was also Qunn's godfather because!!! There is no way Qunn wouldn't have seen if the Tower revealed he had been a part of all that. (I'm still asking myself HOW exactly he or Mayan wouldn't have noticed an astral projection listening device being installed in Rune's room at their freaking tower that is super locked down! But then it happened for two other locations that were supposed to be super warded and protected my other companions too. So maybe it isn't his fault. I do think he might blame himself, I do think that some of his stand-offishness might also be guilt for not being able to stop the attack on the Sun Throne to start with. We will see...) I'm going to go into this read through with the assumption he is just lonely and sad and not a bad guy.

QUEENIE!!!! Because, WHO THE FUCK IS QUEENIE!? I was already suspicious because every time someone asks Rune and Brand where she came from, or how long she's been with them, they say "She's been with us forever." Every time! It reeks of mind fuckery. Then Eidolon and the epilogue that wasn't came along. Current theory is that she is the Empress, and also that she's probably Rune's mother. I would be willing to bet she was the woman at the end of the third book who spoke up to the river after everyone else. Edwards did a good job of making her disappear in the background, but I'm gonna be hunting for every mention of her and how she acts around everyone.

Ciaran, just because I love him and at first also suspected him of evil deeds. But he's just your gay vodka uncle and he loves all his adopted family so much and I just want to keep a closer on him at the start of the series.

Kellum. We only see him once in the second book, but he's mentioned in Eidolon by the Fool (Or Queenie pretending to be the Fool, again I'm not sure, there's Queenie interference for sure) And he was in one of the supplemental novellas. I think he will be making a bigger appearance in the next book.

Quinn's prophecies. I'll probably make a list of those for a separate master post.

Tallas. The Atlantean soul mates. This is a MAJOR spoiler. Rune says that Brand and he formed a talla bond the night of the attack. That it was what brought Brand out of the geas and got them to safety. The bond was gone when he woke up in the hospital and he's spent this whole time thinking he's somehow broken their talla bond. Something definitely happened between him and Addam in the Westlands, and I don't think Addam was wrong in assuming it was the budding of a talla bond. Because something sort of bond-like is also there now after the Hourglass Throne, after he used his bond with Brand to get him and Addam back to their time. My theory here is that they might be each other tallas, all three of them. Together. We know that it doesn't have to be a sexual relationship, though I don't think Addam would mind that one bit. Everything is pointing to the three of them being tied together somehow, and my theory is mostly that, before they were together together, no one talla bond could form and take precedence over the other. Now that they are together all the time, going on missions, living together, they have more opportunities for a bond to fully form and take hold. Assuming it involves all three of them.

And with that, I'm going to go read!

#the tarot sequence #k d edwards #the last sun #rune saint john #brand saint john #max saint john #quinn saint nicholas #addam saint nicholas #the hanged man #the hourglass throne #the eidolon #booklr #ttsrr

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drabbles-mc · 4 months ago

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💖 WIP Wednesday 💖

thank you for the tag, @longlivedelusion! i've got so many wips in the chute but this is from one that i have been agonizing over for wayyyy too long lmao. it's closer to being done than not??? just having trouble getting it to the finish line 😮‍💨

but! it's a Mayans fic. Canche x OC. it's gonna be messy 😌

Given the circumstances, Lía’s face was fairly neutral. There was a slight lift to her eyebrows as she watched him, bringing her lips to the mouth of her own beer bottle. She noticed the way that even though she was looking at him, Canche wasn’t looking at her. It was a far cry from a few nights before. If she’d been feeling a little more reckless, or self-destructive, she would’ve made a snide comment of some kind right then and there, but she didn’t.

“Thanks,” Canche said to Cielo with a nod when she handed the bottle over to him.

He turned and was about to walk away when Lía couldn’t help but to let her impulsive streak get the best of her, “See you ‘round, Pres.”

He hesitated for a moment, but he still ended up walking away without another word. The three of them still sitting at the bar all broke down into semi-quiet laughter. Gilly was the first one to actually speak up and say something.

“So all you Reyes siblings really just like trying to piss him off, huh?”

Lía shrugged, still laughing. “Must be genetic.”

Gilly nodded towards where Canche had walked off. “EZ and Angel tell you about all that, then?”

Lía didn’t want to lie, but she also didn’t want to tell the truth. She settled for something between the two. “I’ve heard bits and pieces of it.”

Gilly shook his head as he took a long drink from the bottle that Cielo handed to him. “Fuckin’ insane. They really rolled up ready to burn this whole place down.”

“Tit for tat, though, right?” Lía said before she thought better of it.

“Hey,” Gilly nudged her, “don’t say that shit too loud. Start another fuckin’ brawl in here that Cielo will have to clean up after.”

Cielo laughed and shook her head. “I’m not cleaning up that shit anymore. You guys make the mess, you guys clean it up.”

tagging (no presh as usual & as always): @darqchilddaydreamz @narcolini @garbinge and anyone else who wants to share a snippet of a wip! 🖤

#tag game #wip game #wip wednesday

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imagineredwood · 3 months ago

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4. First conversations alone

I'm gonna do quick little soft drabbles with which ever character speaks to me from this prompt list. I'm not doing requests for them, just little blurbs to get back into writing more often. Especially that I could just throw together in a few minutes when/if I find downtime at work lol.

Edit: Not this turning into an almost regular length fic 🧍🏻‍♀️

“Mind if I join you?”

EZ stood up straight, droping the random beer can back onto the floor so he could turn around and look at you. He smiled when he recognized you, his head tilting.

"Join me in picking up trash?"

He chuckled but you only shrugged, the shy smile still present on your lips.

"Sure. Why not?"

Your words threw him a bit, not really ever having spoken to you apart from quick small talk, practically yelled over the music in the clubhouse. When he found the time to talk that was, the life of being a prospect not an easy one. He always thought maybe you were just trying to be nice. Perhaps felt bad for him always getting the shit jobs. Maybe that was true, but still, here you were offering to help him long after the rest of the people who hung around had gone home. EZ nodded a few times, a bashful smile on his face that mirrored yours.

"Yeah, ok. But you hold the bag. Don't want you getting your hands dirty."

You obliged and took the garbage bag from his hands, walking around with him, holding it open for him to toss the trash into.

"How much longer do you have to do this? Angel said you're getting close to a year."

EZ threw in a paper plate and nodded.

"Yeah, three months or something like that."

You smiled and shook the bag, letting everything settle.

"That's good. You work hard."

EZ stayed bent over but looked to the side over at you, brows raised. Your shoulders shrugged as you laughed, embarrassed.

"I've just seen how much you run around at the parties. Never really get a break much. But you always have a smile anyway."

He stood upright, both gloved hands holding a cracked solo cup. He walked it over to you and tossed it into your bag, eyes stuck on yours. Your gaze was warm.

"It suits you."

EZ could feel the heat rising to his cheeks and he laughed, casting his eyes down.

"Well thank you."

You smiled softly, tying the bag up with your eyes down too, that warm feeling starting to spread in your chest.

"You're welcome."

General taglist (tagged in all work)

@piccasoe @ateliefloresdaprimavera @woahitslucyylu @everyhowlmarksthedead @glimmerglittergirl @fanaticfangurl21 @encounterthepast @svintsandghosts @starrynite7114 @destynelseclipsa @queenbeered @iamthegraham @emoengelfurleben @all-the-boys-to-the-yard @otomefromtheheart @rosieposie0624 @papa-geralt-of-cirilla @beeroses @weirdosandhopelessromantics @kola95

@cruzwalters @myakai13 l @lyly00 @Zsakaystacks17 @cole-winchester @alexxavicry @savagemickey03 @fanfic-n-tabulous @xbloodyxangelx @carma-fanficaddict @gillysoldlady @choochoo284 @whitetxilwxlf @ravennaortiz @flowercrowns-goodvibes

Mayans MC taglist

@dazzledamazon @briana-mishell24 @wrcn9fvlcver @thesandbeneathmytoes @krysiewithak @appropriate-writers-name @blessedboo @megapeacelovemusic-blog @emoengelfurleben @blowmymbackout @abby-splace @kola95 @redpoodlern @myakai13 @cruzwalters @po3ticb3auty @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @angel-121 @fanfic-n-tabulous @carma-fanficaddict

#mayans mc #mayans imagine #ez reyes #ez reyes x reader #soft!ez

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cositapreciosa · 1 year ago

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You & Me

Gilbert 'Gilly' Lopez x gn!reader, (murder/dead body, nothing graphic tho, ptsd? hardships and hard time, vibes are Gilly's veteran's storyline in the show) the usual for the show, 2307 words

a/n : as DJ Khaled once said : another one. You & Me is a Yelawolf song that slaps so

A follow up of this one can be read part 1.2 here and part 2 here !

Tagging the people I won't stop bothering about this new blorbo obsession @narcolini @drabbles-mc

As always it's the fictional, not the real deal, enjoy xx (do I have to add this for Mayans too or? Plz don't kiss people who shot people? You get it.)

You hadn’t seen him in months, not before you had seen him again at Jacob's birthday party at least, it had been weeks since then. You knew he wouldn’t be mad that you came knocking, found his address the only way you knew how, like the good old days. You were always closest to him, throughout it all, recruits, being shipped out, Mosul, coming back in pieces after everything. You had tried to stay close with them at the beginning, fix the pieces of the puzzle, go to those forced mental-health meetings the army thought were necessary, birthdays or nights out on the town. Even so, it always felt like too much. Too much noise, too many people, too many questions about everything that kept you awake at night. Too many pieces that couldn’t be put back like the others could. You just couldn’t see them as much after that, after you had realized they reminded you every day about what was wrong with you, what you couldn’t fix. You had missed him, of course, oh so much, but every time you stayed too long it felt like you were dragging them all down with you.

You knock on the door, knuckles on the paint. You know it is probably a bad thing, coming unannounced in the middle of the night, but you can’t seem to care. Before you could realize it, you had driven your car to his street, slowing down to read the numbers on the door, finally stopping in front of it. It’s a quaint building, with a nice white door, windows on each side. It didn’t look how you had imagined it and you had, so many times, wished to leave whatever shit show you had gotten yourself into this time. Run back to him. You don’t understand how you managed to escape one hell, only to get yourself trapped in another so quickly. So many hours spent training, fighting for your life, only to fall for a goddamn-

He opens the door, chain pulling between the frames. The porch is dark, barely lit, but you can see the surprise on his face, the confusion as your name falls from his lips. Guilt builds in your chest, panic clawing at your throat.

‘’ Hey, Gil. ‘’

It’s all you can manage, a small smile tugging at your lips, a peace offering. You know you don’t have to explain, that he understands, clearly you are not showing up this late for a beer and a chat. He moves behind the opened door, probably tucking in his waistband whatever gun he had snatched on his way to investigate the noise. He tugs the chain off, opening the door wider this time. You can see him looking around the street, ensuring it is only you and him. You feel like you can’t breathe like you are doing something you shouldn’t, even though you know this is precisely what you should be doing.

‘’ Are you alright? How did you get my… ‘’ You can hear the concern in his voice, see the confusion on his face as he trails off. His beard is shorter than the last time you had seen him, trimmed around the edges. You probably woke him up, you realize.

‘’ Are you doubting my skills now, ranger? ‘’

You want it to sound like a joke, you really do, but it lands flat, your voice is hoarse, tired, adrenaline wearing off. If he noticed it, he doesn’t tell you. He is not pushing you away, yet, and tonight, for the first time, you feel like you can really let your guard down. You take a deep breath, a shaky one, a sad one.

‘’ I hope I didn’t wake you. ‘’ Your voice is small, vulnerable. ‘’ I- ‘’

I need your help. It hurts to say it, to even think about it, and you can’t get the words out. They get stuck in your throat with all the sorry’s you owe him, the apologies you never gave him. His eyes are soft on you, deep brown eyes that always made you feel at home. That is when he notices it, the blood on your bottom lip, a straight cut, already swollen and purple where the fist had hit. His shoulders push back, finally awake, and you know he is ready to fight. You can tell his arms are tensing underneath his shirt, you can see how hard his gaze has become.

‘’ Who did this to you? ‘’

He takes a step towards you, towering over you, his hand moving your jaw to the side to try and see it better in the low light.

‘’ I took care of it, ‘’ You sigh. ‘’, but I need a favour. A big one, Gil. ‘’

You hesitate to tell him, to ask him to do this with you, for you. You know what he has been doing since he got back, joining the not-so-legal motorcycle club. Something about it being the closest it felt to being back in the field. It had been your lives for so long, breathing it, fighting for it, day and night, every second of it.

‘’ Tell me. ‘’

You can smell the detergent from his clothes, taste on your tongue what is left of the cigarette he had before bed. His hand is warm against your cheek, a nice contrast from the cold night. His thumb is caressing beneath your jaw, where the skin hasn’t bruised yet, and you can’t recall the last time you had been touched like this, slow, meaningful. You had missed this, him.

You take a quick look in the dark living room, past his shoulder, maybe he is not alone like you originally thought. You know Rae and Jacob haven’t been staying at their home lately, and Paul had told you that she had stayed a couple of nights at Gil’s. They must still be in the house when he gently presses you a few steps back, closing the door behind him. You really want to believe that it’s because of them, that he does this to keep their minds at ease, not to worry them about what mess you got yourself into this time. You don’t want to believe it might be because of someone else, that maybe he has someone now, someone he didn’t tell you about. He speaks again, gently coaxing it out of you.

‘’ You’re good, I got you. Tell me. ‘’

‘’ I took care of it, ‘’ You continue. Of him. ‘’ He’s in the trunk. ‘’

‘’ He’s in the what, now? ‘’

His hand falls from your jaw, landing in a strong grip where your neck meets the shoulder. It is not meant to hurt, and it doesn’t, you know it is mostly to keep you here, keep you from running away like you usually do. You know he would never let you deal with this on your own, you can’t turn around now, you have to face this.

‘’ I put him in the- ‘’

‘’ The trunk, yeah, I got that. ‘’

You swallow, and it doesn’t feel natural, like your muscles are clenching too hard to make the action happen. You bring a gentle hand to his forearm, taking in the heat that immediately covers your fingertips, the softness of the black shirt under your palm. You look back at him.

‘’ He deserved it, I swear. Gil, I- ‘’ Fuck.

You know there are tears in your eyes, you can’t help it. This whole thing makes you feel like a child, like you just got back from Iraq. You had always been able to be vulnerable with him, he would listen and listen until you had nothing to say anymore, nothing left to cry. A warm hand on your back, fingers in your hair.

‘’ Hey. I’ll take care of this. I know he did. ‘’

You know he doesn’t get it today, he couldn’t possibly, but you let him say it, let it justify your action, the blood that is still drying under your nails.

‘’ Let me make a few calls, okay? ‘’

You nod. You trust him, utterly and completely, with your safety, your life.

And so the both of you wait, seated shoulder to shoulder on the stairs of his porch. Gil's hand is warm on your knee, caressing the skin that peeks out of your distressed jeans. He wants you to stop bouncing your leg, you know it, it has always bothered him, how your stress showed up in micro-movements. You're making me nervous, ranger.

They come for your car fifteen minutes later, all leather cuts, no motorcycles and a single van. Coco, he tells you his name as he asks for your car keys. When you give it to him with a shaking hand, he tells you that everything is going to be fine, they'll take care of it. You believe him, you believe him because you trust Gil and he trusts them, but still, it feels like you are imposing, even when you know they have probably done this many times before.

Coco looks at Gil, a silent conversation you are not a part of, he notices his hand on your thigh, your busted lip.

‘’ We’re taking care of this, cariño. You're safe now. ‘’ Coco tells you.

You want to believe him, you really do. They leave after that, one car following the other, your secret with them. Yours and Gil's and theirs.

‘’ Don’t make a habit of this. ‘’

Gil’s eyes are back on you. He is joking, and it's funny, you laugh, but it doesn't come out like you want, choked in the throat.

‘’ I'm sorry, Gil. I know we haven't been talking much lately. I- ’’

He stops you, a large hand pressing the skin of your thigh.

‘’ Stop it. Whatever you need, you call, I'll answer. ‘’

You sigh and you allow your head to fall to his shoulder. You can’t remember the last time you had been this close, but it feels like you never left, a random night in a world where none of this would have happened. You thank him because there are no other words to make this right. You want to tell him that you owe him, that you will repent until this debt is paid, until he says you did enough to earn it back. His nose is in your hair and you can feel his chest move up and down with every breath. It had never been about that with him, he always took what you gave, broken pieces, burning ashes, wrapping it all up and giving it back to you fixed. You don’t remember when you started crying, silently sobbing against his arm, but he doesn’t mention it. He holds you, caressing your back with a hand, bringing you closer with the other one.

‘’ Stay with me tonight. ‘’ He whispers in your hair, ‘’ I won’t be able to sleep if you don’t. ‘’

That makes you cry harder. Deep inside of you, something is being fixed, an old war wound that had been buried for so long. I will, you tell him, just for tonight.

He doesn’t believe you, he knows you will get up from the bed the second he falls asleep, take your car that now smells like bleach and citrus, and ride out into the morning, away from him once again. When he rolls to your side of the bed in the morning, finding it cold and empty, he knew he was right. He was used to it, of course, a weird, silent arrangement between you two, that you would never be able to stay put for too long, but today, it hurts, pains him in a way it had never before.

‘’ ‘morning. ‘’

You pass the bathroom door that connects directly to his bedroom. Your hair is still damp from the shower, wearing a new set of his clothes on your back. He doesn’t say it back, he can’t, not when he suddenly doesn’t remember how to breathe, not when he can’t believe you actually stayed the night this time. You are here, and he is staring, he can’t look away.

‘’ I hope I didn’t wake you up. ‘’ You begin, ‘’ I just really wanted a shower, and then I heard Jacob in the kitchen, I… ‘’

You stop then, and he can tell that you have realized too, what he is thinking, why his eyes can leave your form. You try to speak again and explain, anything, but it doesn’t come out. Maybe there is no reason why today you chose to stay, out of all the others you could have. He can hear Rae in the living room, the sound of pans and the french toast that is being cooked in the kitchen. You silently walk to his side of the bed, offering him your hand. You smell like his soap and fresh coffee. He takes a deep breath as he reaches up for your palm, fingers lacing with your own as you finally swallow the lump in your throat.

‘’ Just for today then, yeah? ‘’

Your eyes are soft when he looks up, your smile meeting his own, already bright, unable to stop it from hurting his cheeks. Of course, he says, just for today. As many as you would like.

#gilly x reader #gilly lopez x reader #mayans mc imagine #mayans imagines #mayans fanfic #mayans imagine

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obsessedasusual · 2 years ago

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Lonely No More - Seven

Bishop Losa x OC series

Summary: There was never a dull moment, being the only Reyes sister. But between overbearing brothers, being the family peacekeeper, and countless disaster dates, Amalia finds herself wishing she had someone to unwind with after a hectic day. Funnily enough, Bishop Losa wishes for the same thing.

Warnings: swearing, allusions to sex, alcohol

Note: - 2.4k - it’s here!! Hello to readers new and old….. dive in!

Also - I had a tag list for this series at one point, starting from scratch. Let me know if you’d like to be added!

Tags: @danzer8705 @delightfulheroshoeflap

“Guess who I saw at the store today.” She threw at her older brother before she took a sip of her orange juice.

“Who?” Angel questioned from the kitchen as he dug around for something that could pass as lunch.

Amaila rolled her eyes, “I said ‘guess’, dumbass.”

Angel pulled his head out from the fridge to glare at his sister sitting on his couch, “Don’t give me that shit. Just tell me.”

She raised an eyebrow expectantly at her brother. While both stubborn, she could definitely out-wait him.

It was his turn to roll his eyes at the gesture knowing she wasn’t about to give it up, “Fine,” he sighed, shaking his head in thought, “Was it… I don’t fucking know - Mrs Sanchez from High School?”

“Mrs Sanchez? No?” Amalia stared dumbly at her brother, “Why the fuck was she the first person to come to your mind?’

Angel offered a shrug in response before turning back to the fridge.

“I saw Kevin.” she finally relented.

“Who?’ he mumbled, half distracted by his sandwich making.

“Kevin,” she repeated, “Kevin, our cousin Kevin?”

She watched her brother’s face transform from confused to understanding as he clicked to who she was talking about, “Didn’t know he was in town. Thought he was in the city?”

Amalia mumbled a quick, “Thanks,” as he placed a plate holding a cold meat sandwich in front of her, “I thought so too, guess he still is? Don’t know, didn’t actually talk to him.”

“You didn't talk to him? So that whole story was for what?” Angel spoke with his mouth full earning a glare from his sister.

“Shut up. I was just passing comment.”

“Well, thank you. I don’t know what I would’ve done without this life changing information.”

Amalia looked at him as she chewed, “You’re a dick sometimes you know that?”

She was met with a middle finger and decided to finish her sandwich instead of dignifying her brother’s gesture with a response.

“How’s EZ? With the club I mean.” Ever the protective sister, Amalia had been worried about how her younger brother would fit in with the Mayans. Everytime she brought it up with the brother in question she was met with a small smile and a, “Everything’s good, A.”

Angel thought about his answer for a moment, “He’s doing okay I think. But I just - some of the shit we see man, sometimes I wonder if sponsoring him was the right thing to do you know?”

She nodded in understanding, “When he got out, he had nothing to go to, Angel. You’ve given him… something. And at the end of the day, Ezekiel’s an adult now. He’s gonna make his own choices no matter what we say.”

“Yeah, I know but… he was so young when he went inside. He was s’pose to be a fucking doctor, not following me into an MC.”

Pursing her lips at the statement she silently agreed with him. Ezekiel was always the one out of the trio that they were sure was going to do well. Angel had always done his own thing, Amalia had a college degree in communications but that wasn’t exactly a field that screamed ‘successful’. EZ was going down the medical route. Now that was impressive.

“Pop’s pissed at me for bringing him in too.” Angel continued.

Amalia sighed at that. The Reyes Patriarch made no effort to disguise his real emotions about anything. And it seemed clear as day that he wasn’t pleased with his youngest following his oldest’s footsteps, becoming more protective over him then ever.

“Pop is Pop,” she offered, “No matter what, EZ is always gonna be the apple of his eye. And that isn’t fair, but… at least we have each other at Christmas.”

That succeeded in getting a chuckle out of her brother. Amalia knew their father’s favouritism weighed on Angel.

“Yeah… lucky us.” he huffed good humouredly.

Feeling her phone buzz she moved her attention to the message on her screen, feeling her cheeks heat up as soon as she saw who it was from.

Is it safe to assume you have no plans tomorrow and can join a lonely man for dinner?

She and Bishop had exchanged numbers two nights ago when she had returned home from work and found a note in her mailbox from said President.

Fixed your gate, the note had read, here if you ever need a handyman.

The note had been signed ‘Bishop’ along with a phone number. After texting him her gratitude, the two had been periodically texting.

“What’re you smiling at?” her brother questioned, eyeing her suspiciously.

Amalia snapped her gaze from her phone to Angel, caught like a deer in headlights, “Nothing.”

“You texting a guy?”

She rolled her eyes, “Leave it, Angel.”

“That’s not a ‘no’.” again, speaking with his mouth full.

“It’s a ‘mind your own business’.”

He rolled his eyes and demolished the rest of his sandwich, Amalia following suit.

“As long as he treats you good.” Angel muttered as he walked back to the kitchen.

Amalia bit her lip at the comment before typing out a reply to Bishop.

Name the time and place :)

Her phone vibrated within seconds of hitting send.

My place, 6:30. See you then sweetheart.

Amalia looked from the text, to her brother who was fluffing around in the kitchen. She wasn’t doing anything wrong by getting dinner with Bishop. They’d done it before, not that she’d told Angel. And besides, it was only dinner. Just two friends who happen to live down the street from each other.

How would Angel react to it? Probably not well. But still, she couldn't stop herself from the excitement that bubbled at the thought of the dinner.

Can’t wait.

```

It shouldn’t have surprised Amalia, how good the food was as she’d already experienced it with the pie weeks prior. Although dinner was ‘only’ spaghetti and meatballs, it was damn near the best she’d ever had. The big, scary Mayans President was an absolute whiz in the kitchen.

Dinner had passed with the pair indulging in both wine and beer, Bishop had begun to keep a bottle of red handy for occasions such as this, and sharing so much laughter their sides hurt. It was peaceful, and oh so comfortable.

Neither brought up the stressful day to day topics like work and the club. Instead they spoke of their favourite holidays as kids, where they’d go if they could travel anywhere in the world, what animal best represented them.

That last one was all Amalia, but Bishop had indulged her.

“You’d be an ant,” he’d decided, “with how social you are.”

“An ant?! That’s not even an animal. I’m more like a… penguin.”

In the end they agreed to disagree.

“Bishop, you cooked. Please let me do the cleaning.” she all but begged as he began to gather up the dirty dishes. The biker waved her off with a smile as he continued.

“You’re my guest, querida. Sit there and drink your wine.”

Amalia let her eyes follow the rough man as he cleared the table, moving to fill the sink with hot water. It was weird seeing Bishop like this. It almost felt wrong. She was in his house, his private four walls away from the club. He wasn’t wearing his kutte, he looked almost relaxed. In that moment, it wasn’t ‘Bishop Losa, MC President’. It was just Bishop. Bishop, the man that kept his lawns immaculate. Bishop, the man that could cook an incredible pot pie. Bishop, the man that owned exactly one nicknack.

Bishop. The man had been on Amalia’s mind constantly lately.

“Have I got something on my face or what?”

His deeper voice broke her train of thought as he caught her staring red handed. His eyes weren’t on her though, they remained on the dirty dishes he had begun to wash.

She smiled at his side profile, “Just thinking.”

“That’s a dangerous way to spend your time, querida.”

“What… thinking?” Amalia giggled.

Bishop pulled a tight-lipped smile and nodded once, “Gets you in all sorts of trouble.”

The Reyes sister cocked her head and made her way from the table to stand beside the older man, still diligently washing the dishes. She took a moment to properly take in the comment, knowing the President usually had a deeper meaning behind his words. Grabbing a dish towel in silence, Amalia made a start on drying the dishes.

“Some would say,” she began, “You attract even more trouble by not thinking.”

Bishop glanced at her briefly, “You just love to argue with me don’t you, sweetheart?”

Amalia grinned slyly up at him, “Gotta keep you young somehow, Prez.”

He shook his head, chuckling lowly not dignifying her remark with a verbal response, instead deciding to use the scrubbing brush to splash bubbles at her, hitting her square on the nose.

“Bishop!” she burst into laughter, doing her best not to get any of the hopefully not-too-dirty dishwater and bubble combo that was now dripping down her face, in her mouth.

“Told you not to think, querida.” he winked at her and went back to washing the cup in his hands.

Quickly wiping her face with the dish towel, she twisted it in her hands, lined it perfectly with her target and let it fly, whipping Bishop’s bicep perfectly with a satisfying ‘snap’.

Her target startled, hand quickly coming up to caress where he had been hit, turning to face Amalia with a shocked smile.

“You…”

“You were thinking too hard.” she mocked, shrugging and continuing to dry the plates.

She froze when another belt of soapy water hit her, soaking her more than last time. Mouth hanging open in shock and laughter, Amalia moved quickly to once again whip her dish towel at the taller man. Bishop responded accordingly with more dish water, this time wetting the dish towel as Amalia held it up in defence.

Water on a dish towel gives it much more power when used as a whip… much more. It seemed that they both realised this at the same time, Amalia growing excited and Bishop growing regretful.

“Don’t…” he warned, but it was hard to take him seriously when a smile was plastered across his face.

Amalia giggled as she twisted the towel once again, readying it for her shot. It seemed that Bishop could anticipate her next move however as he made to grab it just as she took her shot. The brunette tugged at her end.

“That’s not fair! This is my weapon, not my fault you chose dish water.” She tugged again, only to be met with the resistance of a strong man.

“All’s fair in love and war, sweetheart.”

“Bishop!” She was in stitches at the situation, laughing too much to be able to actually grip the towel enough to stand a chance, “Give it back!”

He tugged his end again, “Apologise.”

She tugged back, “No!”

“Apologise.” he chuckled, tugging at the dish towel a bit harder, in turn pulling Amalia toward him with it.

She collided with his chest in a fit of laughter, sides beginning to hurt as she attempted to catch her breath. Pushing herself back from her position, she gained her composure and looked up at Bishop. Only now realising how close they actually were.

Silence fell over the duo. Amalia breathing heavily still trying to catch her breath, and Bishop breathing shallowly due to the close proximity he found himself in with the woman that held his infatuation.

Amalia cleared her throat when their eyes locked, “Um-”

His lips were on hers before she could mutter a complete word.

It took a moment for Amalia to process what was happening, but it was a short moment and she soon found herself sliding her hands up to gently grasp the sides of Bishop’s neck, quickly returning the kiss. She could have sworn she felt him sigh into her at that moment, almost in relief.

He kept the kiss clean. No tongue. No teeth. Just lips. And want.

Amalia felt like her mind was racing but couldn’t pinpoint what she was actually thinking. She knew what she was feeling though.

Butterflies making their presence known in her stomach, a satisfying burn on her waist where Bishop held her, an almost-annoying-but-actually-quite-nice tickle on her lip from his mustache, and the feeling of wow, this is actually happening.

They were lost in their moment, her hands on his neck, his hands on her waist, and their lips interlocked. No one could say how long they would’ve stayed like that if that goddamn phone hadn’t decided to ring.

Bishop quickly pulled back from her at the ringtone. Not moving to answer his phone, instead just removing himself from her grasp and staring at her flushed face. Neither spoke a word as the ringtone finally died down, only to start up again a second later.

The second ring seemed to break the President out of his daze as he broke his eye contact and grabbed the still ringing cell phone from the bench, cursing quietly when he saw who was calling.

“What?” he answered with a gruff tone.

Amalia spent the next few seconds collecting herself, not paying attention to the topic of the phone call. Although she could guess it was club related based on the amount of swearing she could hear on both ends. She found her fingers tracing her lips subconsciously when Bishop ended the call.

“Fuckin’...” he trailed off, turning back to her, “Uh… club shit,”

He was struggling to meet her eyes, instead deciding to focus on the now abandoned dish towel sitting on the bench, “I gotta go. You uh… you can…”

“I’ll clean up then head out.” She offered, seeing how he was struggling with words and making the whole situation more awkward.

Still not meeting her eyes, he stared intensely at the towel, opened his mouth as if he had something else to add, before settling with a nod and turning to leave the kitchen.

Amalia could hear him pulling on his boots in the next room and imagined him shrugging on his kutte too. The opening and slamming of the front door pulled her back to reality as she realised he had left. The roaring of his Harley as it started up and rode off confirming it.

The breath she let out was so shaky it was audible, she made to grab the bench behind her to steady herself.

“Holy fuck.” she whispered. What the hell just happened?

“Holy fuck.” she exclaimed as she made her way to the front door, leaving the dishes in the dirty, cooling water.

Fuck cleaning up. She just wanted to go home.

#mayans mc #bishop losa #mayans mc imagine #bring back bishop #bishop losa fic #bishop losa imagine #bishop losa x oc #mayans mc fic #lonely no more

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