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thenightcallsme · 7 months

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Do I Make you Nervous? | Simon "Ghost" Riley

little re-upload from my AO3 :)

Synopsis: When Task Force 141 is betrayed by Philip Graves, they're forced to separate. Y\N fights her way through the foreign Las Almas with a broken radio and no sense of direction. Yet, somehow, she finds herself in the same church her lieutenant, Simon "Ghost" Riley, seeks sanctuary in. As they attempt to brave the storm sweeping through the streets, the infamously unreadable Ghost challenges their professional relationship.

Pairing: Ghost x F!141reader

Contains: fluff, kissing, use of Y/N, hint of angst but resolved in the end, vague mentions of blood/wounds

Word count: 5,874

• • • • •

It was all a set-up. A lie.

Disappointment and anger triumphs any sadness over Grave's betrayal. At first, he came across as over-confident in that stereotypical male way. Over time I had warmed up to him. But Shepherd? The man who has given me the most freedom I’ve had in a long time? I admit that my use as a weapon to him has put a strain on our companionship, but to station me with my own cousin only to lash out unprovoked? He’s crossed a line that he can never come back from. The small liking I had for the man vanished as soon as shit hit the fan. Everything seems to replay in my mind. Alejandro insulted and detained, Johnny shot at, Ghost cornered...

There were too many of them to fight off. I couldn't trust myself to hold my own with my mind worrying over Johnny, Alejandro and Ghost while also plotting Shepherd's death. So, though it pained me, I ran. Ghost and Johnny did the same.

My radio was damaged in the incident. A stray bullet flew my way, and with a stroke of luck, grazed the radio instead of my ribs. The close call was enough warning to run, which is what I do now. The lack of communication only worsens the worry.

Shadows crawl in the streets of Las Almas like rats in a sewer. From door to door they go, yelling at innocent civilians in the late hours of dusk. From the conversations I've heard, they're looking for two foreign men and their female friend. They don't quite explain why we're being hunted, but the truth wouldn't change much. Every so often, a shot fires, echoing through the streets like a warning bell. A call of sorrow and fear.

With the Shadows forcing their way into civilian homes and raising their weapons against anyone who could harbour us, houses and shops aren't safe. The towering cathedral spires peeking above tin roofs and stacked houses catch my attention instead. Nobody would be inside at this time of night. For now, it's the best I can do. Also to my luck, the church isn't too far away. I take my time and keep to the shadows on my way. With a quick survey of my surroundings, I know I've bet the Shadows to this part of the city. That won't last long. The revelation has me jumping the gate within seconds of making it.

Inside the church is pitch black. Towering windows that tell biblical tales line the walls, casting light in intervals across the empty foyer. Rows of seats begin to emerge as my eyes adjust. Further back is an intricate, circular skylight tens of feet above the marble floor. Illuminating the altar below is a waterfall of silvery light. The giant cross, gold statues, and wooden altar glow like I'm looking through a blurred lens. The view is both eerie and magical...and not meant to be marvelled at in a time like this. My focus should be maintaining high ground. I begin to turn in search of a staircase when something shifts in the darkness.

A figure materialises, tall and built; easily a male physically capable of snapping my neck. My next best option is the gun strapped to my hip to parry the one in his hand. I go to reach for mine—

“Y/N?”

I freeze in surprise, but my mind eases slightly.

“Lieutenant? How—”

“Doesn’t matter. We’re here now.” He looks down at me with searching eyes. “You in one piece?”

“Yes. You—?” At that moment, my own eyes skim his body, only to halt at a worrying sight. On the left side of his waist, just above the waistband of his pants, is a blooming, dark red stain on his shirt. He’s been shot. “Jesus, Ghost. How bad is it?”

“I’ve had worse—”

He stops himself at the distant shouting. The surrounding streets haven’t been quiet since I’ve been in the church, but this time it grows closer. Angrier. Ghost doesn’t waste time ushering me along in search of a stairwell. The one we find leads to the second floor, then a third. Eventually, we discover the central bell tower. The room is dank and cold and decently big. Suspended in the middle is a gigantic bell. Even in the dark, I can see how weathered the metal is. The worn wooden floors creak as we cross it. On each wall are arched openings that allow entry to the cold night air and terrified screams. A small cluster of discarded furniture draped in white sheets huddles in a corner. From here, we have a perfect view of the sprawling city and winding streets. To those down there, we’re invisible.

Simon leans back against a wall and grunts, his hands brushing over the bullet wound. He pulls back his hands to inspect the fresh blood. However bad it is, it’s still bleeding.

“Show me,” I say. My voice comes out more demanding than I intend.

He gives me a brief exasperated look but doesn’t push back.

Ghost sits against the wall with his shoulders slumped just enough to reach my level. His jacket is unzipped, his black shirt rolled up halfway. Those tired, piercing eyes and muscular arms are the most I've ever seen of him. It feels like a reward when the weather is unforgiving enough to chase away his usual long-sleeve or jacket. His arms are tanned and muscled, with a tattoo sleeve working from the wrist of his left arm up to his elbow. I’ve begun to accept that it’s the closest I’m ever going to get to seeing him. But now I stare down at his bare abdomen.

The waistband of his black cargo pants sits low on his hips, offering a distracting view of a pronounced V-line and abs. In the moonlight, I can make out the reminders of war that mark his skin; a few silvery scars, some clean-cut, some gnarled and twisted; an old bullet wound healed closer to his ribs. The fresh one with the most of my attention is buried in a more acceptable spot. It nestles into the far right side of his waist, thankfully nowhere near any vital organs. However, it’s still a bullet wound and it still bleeds. That’s enough to worry me.

“Do you reckon it’s bad?” I ask.

He shrugs. “I wouldn’t say I’m dying.”

“But we aren’t in the position to get proper help. Maybe sit down for a bit.” Surprisingly, he does so without question. I get to my feet, draw a small knife from my thigh holster, and rip a strip of fabric from the white sheets. When I drop back down beside him, I take a deep breath. “Here"

He takes it with a mumbled thank you and wraps the fabric around his waist.

“You heard from John?” I ask.

Simon winces as he adjusts the torn sheet. “I radioed him multiple times. Never got an answer.”

“Are you surprised by all this?”

Simon leans back against the wall. “I tend to be less surprised by betrayal. But I had some respect for Shepherd.”

I sigh, shuffling around him so that I can do the same. “What are we supposed to do now?”

“Survive,” he says. “Shepherd wants you alive. Graves will see to that. He can’t kill Alejandro, either. But Johnny and I…” He shakes his head. “Graves won’t sleep until there’s a bullet in our heads and Shepherd won’t care enough to stop it.”

There’s a moment of silence as I fold my arms and look away thoughtfully. How are we supposed to do this? The blanket of night and the ensuing storm may offer some cover, but getting out of the city will be a mission. I can’t bring myself to leave without John, either. My heart hurts when I think about him. He could be anywhere, alone and outnumbered while I sit uselessly in a bell tower.

“What do we do about Johnny?” My voice is quiet. Fearful. “My radio was damaged so I couldn’t reach out to him. Maybe his is the same. But not knowing… He’s the only family I have left. My only real friend.”

“Don’t worry about Johnny. He’s one of the most resourceful and strong-willed Sergeants I’ve dealt with in a while. Have faith in him.” He looks at me then, tilting his head to the side. “I wouldn’t say he’s your only friend.”

“I do quite like his girlfriend…” I murmur.

“And Alejandro? Ronaldo?”

I purse my lips as his question draws thought. I’ve been considering Alejandro and Ronaldo as allies. Companions. But I’ve grown quite fond of them. Considering them as friends would set me up for heartache if anything were to happen. So I haven’t… At least openly. Despite my attempts to create some distance in our relationships, my subconscious has decided for me. Those two are my friends. It explains the immense distress I’m battling over Alejandro’s capture.

“I guess so.”

“Me?”

Silence ensues from both of us.

His question stuns me; I was prepared for him to stop at Alejandro and Ronaldo. There’s nobody else in Las Almas or back at home that I pay attention to. Besides Ghost, at least. I could answer him in a second. I almost do.

Ghost is infamous for his detachment. He’s quiet, short-tempered, dangerous and mysterious. I’ve heard the comments that he suits his code name. Spiritual beings do not communicate through speech but through action. Ghost is the physical embodiment of the epiphany. Anybody able to coax a few sentences from him outside missions is admirable. Outside of that, his physical emotions require deep analysis and theory to understand. The mask only makes things more difficult. I’ve never seen him show palpable kindness through his aura or words to anyone, never heard him allow the use of his name, never heard him offer others insight into the raging whirlwind of his mind.

And yet he lets those things slide around me.

He lets me speak his name when no one is listening. He offers me comfort when I need it most — if not through limited words, through soft gazes and a hand on my shoulder. I’m usually able to get him talking. Sometimes I receive short answers, sometimes I receive enough to help me understand more of that whirlwind mind. He even occasionally shows pieces of himself that take away from the guessing game I usually play.

I shut people out because the last people I let in betrayed me.

I never consider answering personal questions, but you tend to have a lot of them. And every time you ask…I almost answer

I guess you and I are more alike than I thought.

All of it has me wanting more. More of his mind, his words, the soft gazes I’ve noticed are reserved for me. What I already have is nothing compared to every naked truth he could be telling me. However, what I’ve managed to coax from him seems to be more than he’s told anyone in a long time. At first, I marked it down as me being the only female on the team or Ghost considered me fragile. But I've proved myself, and nothing about being a 'fragile female' (which I very well am not) does not automatically give me all these passes. I now realise it is much more than that.

Never once has he called me his friend. I already have. Now it’s his turn.

“I don’t mind you, Simon, but friendship can’t be one-sided,” I say. While it’s a simple statement, a silent question hides between each word. Are you my friend?

“If it was as one-sided as you think, you wouldn’t be calling me Simon.”

My heart skips a beat. There. It’s an answer to my unspoken words, but it’s not plain as day. As usual, Simon tells me something that is anything but straightforward. There’s room for interpretation in his answer—something that is beginning to tire me. It’s almost as if the honest answer is criminal and he’s trying to cover up his tracks. Almost as if not speaking that honest answer can allow him to deny it.

I don't bother concealing my annoyance. “That’s not what I want to hear and you know it.”

“Fuck sakes, Y\N, I said it,” he says. His voice comes out both argumentative and exasperated.

“No, you didn't. All I ever get out of you is stuff that works around the truth. Stuff I have to think about to understand.” I'm crossing a line, I know. I just can't help it. “What’s so hard about admitting it?”

“Don’t.”

His tone is final. I don’t care.

“Does the truth scare you?”

His eyes squint, becoming barely visible against the black paint, the mask, and the low light. I can clearly picture a scowl jumping across the many faces I’ve imagined. While I want to flinch away, I don’t. Not for a second do my eyes lower, and not for a second do I grow offensive. I remain calm and collected, which I think annoys him more.

“You want the truth?” he growls. The accent of Manchester seems to thicken. “Fine. I’ll tell you the truth. I don’t want to admit I think of you as a friend ‘cause I bloody well want to ignore it. For years, it’s only been me and I planned it to be for the rest of my life. Then all of a sudden you and your annoying cousin appear and jeopardise everything. The only person with an inkling of anything was Shepherd and I was fine with that. But now you’re catching up to him. You’ve so effortlessly undone everything I’ve worked hard to maintain.” The growl in his voice dies down the longer he speaks. In the last sentence, his voice is quiet, defeated, but a little begrudging. “And I knowingly let you.”

“If it was bothering you that much, you should have told me,” I say with a voice equally as quiet. “If I knew you didn’t want me to know so badly, I would have respected that.”

He shakes his head. “You don’t understand. I think about telling you everything. I may get pissy at you over your questions, but…” A sigh. The truth is shameful to him. “I look forward to them.”

“If it makes you feel any better…” I laugh a little. “It’s really annoying how intriguing you are. Not just your past and your face… When I’m not trying to guess what you look like, I’m refraining from asking you stupid questions. Shit like if you’re a cat or dog person.”

“Dog person,” he replies. Any hint of anger or annoyance has disappeared. “Cats have too much attitude.”

I squint. “You just don’t appreciate them.”

“You strike me as a cat person.” He pauses in thought. “You just remind me of a cat, really.”

I raise my brows, giving him an exasperated look. “Are you going to tell me I have an attitude?”

“Maybe. But there’s more to it.”

I cock my head in question.

“Cats are friendly. Independent.” His eyes shift and I wonder if there's a smirk beneath the mask. “Curious.”

“Was that another dig at my questions?”

“Yes. Now shut up and listen.”

Before he continues, I find myself turning my body so I can fully look at him, my shoulder against the concrete walls and my legs folded beneath me.

“There’s that look in their eyes that they know your worst thoughts. Your secrets. They’re also graceful. Got that high-class elegance about them. But they can be unpredictable, striking out when you least expect. Once they sink their claws into you…” His eyes search my face. “You can’t get rid of them.”

I look up at him in wonder, my mouth slightly agape as I try to find a suitable response. Nothing I could say would express the way his words sink in. I’ve always coined Simon to be the observant type, keeping to himself and remaining silent. But I never expected him to relay his finds. His usual short, sharp answers contrast the compliment greatly.

“I think…” A small smile curves my lips upwards. “…That was the most meaningful compliment I’ve ever gotten.”

“Don’t let it go to your head.”

“Never. Now I have a question.”

“The floor is yours.”

“Do you have, like, Queen Elizabeth tattooed on your face? The British flag?” I grin. “Something mask-worthy, you know?”

“Why does it have to be something British?”

“Because there’s no way you’re the only Brit I know that isn’t somewhat stereotypical.”

Simon huffs a laugh. “No stereotypical tattoos. Sorry to disappoint.”

“A big scar, then?”

He tilts his head. “No scars that make me want to wear it.”

I raise my brows. “So you do have a scar?”

“Only one big one.”

“Good to know.” I nod my head with thoughtful eyes. “I’ll add that to a mental note.”

His eyes widen a fraction. The skull sown to his balaclava only offers the view of his painted eyes and nothing. Not even his eyebrows. I guess he’s raising them in question.

“How often do you think about this?”

I let out a long breath. “You have no idea. I change what I think you look like every day.”

“What do you think I look like.”

I go quiet in thought for a moment. As I said, the image changes… Only more frequently than I want to admit. Sometimes the change is small. Sometimes the change is big. I know I’m not the only one stumped by this, either. John and I joked over it once. He said things eluding to him being unattractive. A crooked nose, a huge scar, broken teeth. Every time he made a guess I would laugh, but never did the ideas seep into my mind. Nothing in an unattractive sense, anyway. Despite the possibility, I can never picture him as ugly.

“It varies, but…” I take one last second to collect my thoughts. “Without that skull piece, you have dark eyebrows. I imagine your hair is brown. And you’re eyes…it’s hard to tell with the paint, but they’re more deep-set and heavy-lidded. The balaclava is tight enough to make me think you have a straight nose, high cheekbones, strong jaw…” I shake my head. “Beyond that, I’m stumped.”

I can tell he thinks deeply about each characteristic. I sit patiently and almost wait for confirmation, but I know better than that. If he’s not going to show his face, he’s not going to—

“My hair is brown.”

I’m about to backtrack on my previous thought when he reaches towards the space between my neck and shoulder. In the frenzy that has been the last hour, my hair has come undone. The braid was unsavable, making me pull out the band and attempt a ponytail…only for it to snap in two. My hair now falls in dishevelled waves. A small part of my hair falls over my shoulder. Simon gingerly reaches for it, curling it between his finger and examining it in the low light. …Can he hear how fast my heart is beating?

“Not like yours. A few shades lighter, maybe. And that scar…”

Even more gingerly, Simon pulls one of my hands from its folded position, and I pray my expression doesn’t betray me. Rough, calloused hands press against the back of mine. The size difference is almost comical. He guides it to his masked face, working his fingers working around mine to spread them out. He drags my hand over his right cheekbone, across the hollow of his cheek, and towards his jaw. My mind is hyper-fixated on the shape of his face.

“Right along there.”

His eyes continue to search my face. There’s nothing but curiosity in the blue-grey of his irises. Curious at what, I can’t tell. Everything about this has my mind raging. The way he looks at me, the way he holds my hand against the black balaclava, the way he towers over me even when sitting down... The thoughts that surface are shameful. He’s your lieutenant, for Christ’s sake. Have some respect. The remembrance of his position has little help.

If anything, it strengthens the fantasies.

His hold shifts on top of my hand, the pad of his thumb swiping across my skin to stop on the inner side of my wrist and press down. He may not have been able to hear my heartbeat…but now he can feel it at the worst possible moment.

“You’re heart is beating fast.” He inclines his head. “Do I make you nervous, Y\N?”

God, is my breathing even? I can’t tell.

“You just caught me off guard, is all.”

Simon hums thoughtfully as his hand breaks away from mine and reaches forward. His fingers connect with my collarbone before finding my neck, exploring upwards in search of a pulse point. A shiver of excitement and nervousness runs beneath my skin like a ripple. His other hand slides over my knee and up my thigh. If my heart was racing before, this is a life-or-death sprint.

Slow are his movements. Calculated. He knows exactly where my heartbeat reverberates in my neck. Instead, he drags the moment out, coaxing out his desired reaction. But there’s something else in the slowness: a window for me to flinch away and draw the physical line neither of us has ever drawn. We’ve brushed shoulders and hands. We’ve sat with our bodies aligned in cramped cars. He’s held my hair back in a bathroom as I threw up after a panicked episode (something I would like to forget if he wasn't so surprisingly understanding). He's placed a hand on my shoulder for many different reasons. All are excusable moments. The ones that surpass professional boundaries can be marked as friendly. However, the intimacy of this moment is new. Scary. Exciting.

“Did you know your bottom lip twitches before you lie?” Simon asks. I find myself at eye level with him. When did he get so close? “I don’t like lies. Try again.”

“Sometimes…” I breathe.

“Sometimes, what?”

Bastard. “Sometimes you make me nervous.”

“Why?”

“Because…” I frown. “I don’t know.”

He’s definitely leaning closer now. Not just with his head, but with his whole upper body. Out of the nerves Simon is so adamant on understanding, I retreat, only making it a few inches before my back hits the other wall. Simon half hovers over me, the hand that was on my thigh now bracing himself on the floor. There are only a few inches between our chests. Even less between our faces. Not once does he lose his connection with my pulse.

“Another lie.”

“I don’t know how to word it. That's not a lie.”

Simon drops his head so that his covered mouth hovers beside my ear.

“Good girl.”

Never has praise sounded so seductive. It takes every inch of concentration to reign in my self-control. I might have ripped off his mask then and there…

Only, I think he’s beating me to it.

From where his head hovers, I can’t see his masked face. The wide, strong shape of his shoulder obscures most of my vision. He retracts his hand from my neck to reach somewhere I can’t see. The sound of moving cloth widens my eyes and upsets the rhythm of my breathing, the uneven rise and fall of my chest barely brushing his.

Maybe he’s adjusting it, I convince myself. He has only ever offered you little pieces at a time. What he’s offering me now is more than he ever has at once. While my body screams for more, my mind knows I can’t expect too much from him. Whatever he’s doing now is more than enough.

“You’re breathing funny.”

The feeling of breath skims the shell of my ear and down my neck like a warm, ghostly waterfall. It takes me a second to notice a difference in his voice. It’s low, it’s rough, it’s teasing. All are easily noticeable and nothing new. What is new is the enhanced clarity. An added sharpness lingers in his accented words. The slight muffle is nowhere to be found.

I was wrong. He’s lifted his mask.

“Because you’re taking off your mask." My answer comes out in a weak whisper.

He doesn’t speak about the mask, instead repositioning his hand to my neck to find my pulse.

“If you can’t tell me,” he murmurs, returning to the previous topic, “your heartbeat can.”

A warm feeling presses into my neck. A gasp slips past my lips as my heartbeat continues to quicken and stumble beneath his thumb. Against my skin…I think Simon is smiling.

Nothing about this seems real. Simon plants slow kisses on my neck with his bare lips. They’re a little rough, yet soothing. Whether they’re full or thin, I can’t tell, but the lack of obvious signs paints an image of something in between. His nose brushes the base of my jaw. Just above the pointed tip is where the balaclava begins. I can feel the hard edges of the sewn-on skull pressing into my left temple. Light stubble covers his jaw.

As his mouth works slowly against my neck, my jaw, and my collarbone, my hand slides up and over his chest. I slowly feel his bare neck. Beneath my fingers, his Adam's apple bobs. Further I explore, feeling the planes of his skin. The stubble scratches against my curious hand. Raised skin runs in a line over the right side of his face; the scar. It’s thin and generally clean-cut. He pulls back slightly as I feel his face. A deep chuckle rumbles in his chest as my thumb traces over his lips. I was right, they are something between full and thin. His lower lip feels slightly fuller with a deep hollow beneath that curves into his chin.

When I find it in me to speak, my voice is breathy.

“Kiss me.” He seems to still at that. When his reply isn’t instant, I continue. “You don’t have to… But I won’t look. I swear it.”

Silently, he reaches for my hand. He holds his over mine for a moment as he did with the mask moments earlier. Then he gently pries it away. Cloth shifts in my air as he fixes the mask and pulls back. I can’t say I’m not disappointed, but I respect the decision. Simon looks down at me with lust-blown pupils. Mine must be the same.

He takes a second to examine me. My heavy-lidded eyes, my slightly parted lips, the way I slump beneath him, the glistening wet spots left on my neck. He whips it away before he speaks.

“Can I trust you?”

We both know the answer to that, so instead of saying the obvious, I one-up him.

“Do you want to trust me?”

Silence passes for a heartbeat.

“Of course I do,” he says softly. “I want to trust you. I want to touch you. I want to kiss you. …Undress you. I’ve wanted to for so long.”

Then he moves.

My thoughts go quiet as Simon’s hands reach upward. When his fingers brush the base of his mask, I reach out and still his hands. The action takes both of us by surprise. For months I’ve been thinking about this moment. Just now I’ve admitted how much what he looks like takes up my mind. Now I find myself stopping him, but not because I’ve changed my mind. I worry that this will be something he’ll regret.

“Simon,” I say. “You don’t owe it to me to show your face.”

“But I do.” He inclines his head. “Now keep your pretty eyes up.”

My breath catches in my throat as he pulls it off in one swift motion. I take in everything I’m seeing in amazement, wonder, and bewilderment.

He’s handsome. He’s really handsome.

The ruggedness and confidence he carries seem to be etched into the planes of his face. A light stubble shadows his angular, defined jaw. Just as I had imagined, the bridge of his nose is straight and strong. His high cheekbones, deep-set eyes and smudged black paint create deep shadows. His mouth is wide. The shape of them is a physical manifestation of what I had imagined. With an average fullness, his upper lip is slightly smaller with a soft cupid’s bow. Tracing the angles of his right cheekbone is that straight, silver scar. His hair isn’t as short as most other military men’s. It’s a little messy from the mask and, true to his words, a few shades lighter than mine. I can tell that, the longer it gets, the more it curls.

I stay silent as I take him in, eyes wide. Somehow I find the courage to slowly reach out. His blue-grey eyes dart to my hesitant fingers. When he doesn’t deny me, I close the space, this time feeling him without needing to imagine his image. I apply a little pressure as I brush his skin, feeling the warmth of his cheeks, the scar tissue on his cheekbone, and the stubble on his jaw. His eyes train on me. This is one of the few times I cannot understand what I see in them.

Whatever he’s thinking, it doesn’t matter. All that matters is that I stare back at Simon. Not Ghost, Simon.

“I was starting to think you weren’t real,” I say jokingly.

He laughs softly. One side of his mouth quirks up into a skewed smirk. My heart flutters at the sight of it. When he speaks, it’s with that teasing tone that always had me imagining a smirk. Matching his expressions to his tones is a strange thing to see, but I love it.

“Is this real enough for you?” he asks.

I hum in agreement. “You’re a lot better looking than I imagined.”

He raises a brow in mock offence. “Do I radiate unattractiveness? I’m offended.”

“I never said I imagined you ugly.”

I draw my hands back, taking another good look at him. My amazed smile remains. So does the awe in my eyes. Now that I know how good-looking he is, it’s going to be hard to get him out of my head. At least I can’t scold myself over falling for a faceless man anymore.

“I guess if I die tonight… I can go a little happier.”

The way he tilts his head and looks up through lowered brows sends my mind into a frenzy. I’m used to the action with his mask on, usually with the sewn-on skull. Now, with every part of his face laid bare for me, the feeling it stirs comes tenfold. He gives me a fake accusing look. Beneath the teasing air he gives off, that desire remains.

“A little?” he murmurs. His face grows closer, giving me a better view of the hollows and curves and marks of war.

“A little not enough?”

His eyes dip to my lips. “Not by a longshot.”

Then Simon kisses me.

Eyes fluttering closed, I sink into the feeling of his lips against mine. Gently. Hesitantly. Does he expect me to pull away? How could he think such a thing when I almost seemed desperate when I asked him? My hands slide over his chest, slowly linking behind his neck as the kiss deepens.

For a moment, everything fades away. The gunfire, the screams, the impending death we may face any moment... All of it reduces to a meaningless blur. Suddenly all that exists is me, Simon, and the secret embrace we share. In our kiss is a million unspoken words; a tidal wave of passion laced with a bittersweet sadness. The talk of ‘dying happy’ is no exaggeration. We very well may die, and seeing his face and feeling his touch eases the painful thought. Maybe this way I can find him in the afterlife - seek out his mysterious eyes and lopsided smirk and spend an eternity together. Or perhaps there is no afterlife, and this is my last stroke of luck.

Satisfied with the knowledge of what he does to me, Simon lowers his hand from my neck. The pressure reapplies near my belt. His fingers timidly skim the bottom of my tanktop, pulling the tucked part from my waistband. My own fingers weave through his brown hair as his hand slides further beneath. My kiss falters when he finds one of my breasts. His hand comfortably rests over it, his palm slowly kneading at the flesh. A low groan builds at the back of my throat.

After a moment, we pull away, chests rising and falling as we take deep breaths. His forehead rests against mine and suddenly I'm wishing we could do this over again. Except I picture less sadness to tinge every word and action. I picture the safety of home, the warmth of a bed, a carefree air that allows us to just enjoy the other's company. Reality comes back in a painful rush.

“I don’t want to die,” I whisper.

His hand retreats from my breast at my words. Instead, he takes a hold of my waist, giving me a comforting squeeze.

“You are not going to die. Not today. Not when there’s so much more I want from you.” He adds the last part with a teasing, suggestive smirk.

He looks down at my lips again—

“Ghost, how do you copy?”

We both freeze at the sound of a voice, so caught up in the moment that the radio is forgotten. Both the unspeakable things and sorrowful thoughts flooding my mind suddenly vanish at the sound of a familiar voice. There’s an equally received look on Simon’s face as he reaches for the small radio.

“I read you loud and clear, Sergeant,” he says. “What’s your location?”

“I…don’t know,” John replies solemnly. “Streets are crawling with Shadows. Where are you?”

“You see church spires above the houses?”

There’s a second of silence. Then…

“I see them.”

“Good. Head straight there and come inside. No Shadows here yet. They’ll be busy going door to door.”

“Affirmative. I’m on my way. Have you got any word from Y/N?”

Simon looks at me, silently giving me the floor to speak. “I’m right here, Johnny.”

There’s a sigh of relief on the other end. “Oh, thank fuck. You in one piece?”

“I’m all here. You?”

“Got a shot to the shoulder. Nothing I can’t handle.”

For the next while, Simon and I sit huddled side by side, guiding Johnny through the radio. I generally leave the talking to Simon. Listening to him speak and sinking into his warmth is good enough. Every so often, he'll say something that takes me by surprise. Sometimes it's a dad joke, either really good or incredibly bad. Sometimes it's something that alludes to Simon not minding Johnny. He never outright admits it, but saying 'I like you alive' to Johnny's 'so you do like me' speaks for itself. I smile at that. I have sunk my claws into him, and he's not going to be able to get rid of me till the day I die.

#call of duty #call of duty modern warfare 2 #modern warfare 2 #modern warfare ii #mw2 #mwii #ghost #simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x y/n

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astrolovecosmos · 3 months

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The Planets & Random or Obscure Associations

~Sun~

Creativity, vitality, head of state, the father, games, yellow and orange clothing, articles of value, jewelry, gold, brass, power, diamonds, citrine, topaz, jasper, amber, rhodochrosite, mistletoe, almonds, citrus, succulents, sunflowers, fevers, heart, back, spine, grapes, walnuts, rice, chamomile, frankincense, juniper, saffron, marigold, rosemary, rue, palaces, towers, luxury.

~Moon~

Eternal, cycles, silver, aluminum, pearls, moonstone, opal, selenite, chest, glands, lymphatic system, nervous system, emotions, mother, ancestors, nurture, rebirth, tides, baths, ocean, brew, boat, sap, willow trees, succulents, pale color plants, white flowers, cucumber, cabbage, lettuce, melons, shellfish, pumpkins, lakes, fountains, ports, fishponds, pools, springs, sewers, dairies, toys, reflection, blankets, objects of comfort.

~Mercury~

Communication, journal, pen/pencil, any writing tools, wings, phosphorous, mercury, agate, tiger's eye, brain, nervous system, eyes, respiration, thyroid, speech, hearing, intellect, vehicles, money, bills, paper, books, pictures, parties or social gatherings, scientific instruments, butterflies, messages, mail, hazel, mulberry, myrtle, seeds, aniseed, dill, fennel, lavender, liquorice, marjoram, parsley, valerian, hazelnuts, beans, mushrooms, pomegranates, carrots, celery, libraries, schools, markets, fairs, public spaces, tennis or badminton court, studies, banks, bowling greens, offices, blue, white, or light colored flowers.

~Venus~

Love, relating, lust, high-quality fabrics, copper, bronze, sodium, malachite, tourmaline, emerald, rose quartz, kunzite, sapphire, pastels, throat, kidneys, lumber region, art, music, aesthetics, social life, fashion, jewelry, wine, pleasure, alder tree, fruit trees, paint, ash tree, birch, pomegranates, early flowering, daisy, mint, marshmallow, meadowsweet, mugwort, plantain, tansy, roses, thyme, vervain, yarrow, potatoes, strawberries, wheat, sugar, nectarines, ballrooms, bedrooms, dining room, gardens, fountains, wardrobes, theaters, looking and feeling good.

~Mars~

Lust, conquest, desire, flaming sword, red things, fights, iron, brass, bloodstone, carnelian, cinnabar, pyrite, magnetite, ruby, garnet, hematite, muscles, reproductive organs, blood, kidneys, immunity, heat, action, arms, pepper, sharp instruments, cutlery, attacks, scissors, weapons, physical intimacy, bites, stings, scalds, burns, accidents, hawthorn, pine, thorns, cactus, aloes, anemone, arnica, belladonna, garlic, ginger, hops, mustard seed, nettles, wormwood, chives, onions, leeks, radish, rhubarb, tobacco, labs, furnaces, distilleries, bakehouses, ovens, smiths, butchers, fields, anger, passion, self-focus.

~Jupiter~

Expansion, optimism, religion, religious sites, tin, seduction, turquoise, chrysocolla, topaz, citrine, jasper, liver, pancreas, pituitary gland, sciatic nerve, excess, abundance, prophecy, philosophy, knowledge, universities, foreign travel, luggage, honey, oil, silk, fruit, distinct clothing, merchandise, horses, domestic birds, gambling, indulgence, entertainment, oak, dandelion, sage, endive, chervil, asparagus, figs, churches, temples, palaces, altars, courts, mansions, woods, orchards, winery, cornucopia, connecting with the soul.

~Saturn~

Limits, boundaries, father time, lord of death, shadows, lead, iron, steel, calcium, asbestos, sulphur, diamond, onyx, calcite, skeleton, spleen, skin, teeth, nails, joints, structure, crystallization, old age, blockage, anything dark, wool, heavy materials, agriculture, wheelbarrows, spades, farm houses and buildings, cold, laws, aspen, blackthorn, buckthorn, cypress, elm, toxic plants, hemlock, henbane, belladonna, hellebore, barley, beetroot, safflower, parsnips, spinach, deserts, woods, valleys, caves, church yards, ruins, coalpits, sinks, wells, mud, institutions.

~Uranus~

Eccentrics, mavericks, invention, genius, revolution, change, trends, disruptive science or tech, uranium, magnesium, lapis lazuli, sapphire, aquamarine, azurite, chalcedony, electricity, neon lights, plaid, nervous and circulatory system, pineal gland, chaos, violence, upheaval, astrology, steam engines, coal, machinery, coins, baths, fishponds, dangerous places, computers, magnets, quantum physics, research, welfare, humanity, hypnotherapy, railways, banks, gas, psychiatric hospitals, offices, hospitals, dispensaries, fortified places, chemicals, mingled/mingling, spirit and matter.

~Neptune~

Illusions, veils, diffuse, deception, water, oceans, mysticism, enlightenment, artistic pursuit and understanding, zinc, potassium, amethyst, fluorite, jade, sugilite, coral, aquamarine, pineal gland, lymphatic and nervous system, spine, mental processes, addiction, psychoses, disease, photography, music, substances, gas, religion, poetry, mimicry, chameleon, anesthetic, telepathy, empathy, dancing, psychic gifts, places near water, hospitals, places of healing, jeweler, painters, brewers, musicians, visionary.

~Pluto~

Power, influence, darkness, new life, what's hidden underneath, seeds, volcanoes, deep earth or ocean, bury, explosions, eruptions, abduction, plutonium, smoky quartz, obsidian, jet, pearl, deep reds, reproductive organs, the unconscious, nuclear, transformation, death, birth, rebirth, underworld, riches, earthquakes, big business, murder, detection, detective, invisibility, sneak, enforced change, hidden places, underground, drains, sewers, radioactive places, the occult, black magic, sacrifice, renew.

#zodiac #astrology #planets #sun #moon #mars #venus #mercury #jupiter #saturn #uranus #neptune #pluto

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sea-witchb1tch · 8 months

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my pocket altar to Amphitrite

this is probably the only time I’ll post photos of a full altar and that’s because I felt called to share. Amphitrite isn’t as well known as other deities of the Greek pantheon so I think sharing is caring in this instance. The only thing that isn’t pictured is the divination tool I use to speak with the Lady Amphitrite.

I repurposed an altoids tin for this pocket altar. I energetically cleansed it and placed items that I felt called by Amphitrite to put inside. I have some shells I collected from the beach, sand mixed with sea salt, an aquamarine crystal, a devotional candle, small incense sticks and a doily as an altar cloth.

I also decorated the inside with some sea imagery and I made a small paper standee to act as a stand in for a statue/figure.

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mavrintarou · 10 months

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[1:39PM] Kita Shinsuke

It's my (our) man's birthday! Of course, I couldn't forget his birthday. I don't think I can write a non-smut fic for him at all. Or more like... a non-breeding fic. This man just reeks of breeding kink, convince me otherwise. Oh and this is my first Soulmate au

Warning: 18+ let us just leave it at that (if you have been following me this long you know I rarely ever right sfw stuff...); older Shinsuke; as mentioned, soulmate au . Soulmates operated in a rather amusing manner and had a peculiar way of working. By purposefully parting a couple destined to be together and presenting them with formidable obstacles, no matter the cost or the duration, they would invariably defy the odds and ultimately find their way back to one another.

As soon as an individual reaches the age of seventeen, akin to the legendary red string of fate, the initials of their soulmate will manifest in red on their left pinky fingers. Once the pair entwines their pinkies, their initials will vanish, symbolizing the fulfillment of their destined connection.

While a few are fortunate enough to find their soulmates nearby, others must search the world to seek their destined partners.

Kita Shinsuke, at the age of thirty-three, has not found his soulmate. Each day, he is greeted by the persistent sight of red initials, serving as a reminder that his destined partner is still out there, perhaps patiently awaiting his arrival or diligently searching for their connection.

After his grandmother’s death a few months ago, he finally opened the letter she left behind.

My dearest Shin-boy,

By the time you read this, I will no longer be on Earth with you.

My kind-hearted boy, please go and search for your soulmate. Find them and do not waste any more time. I promise I will be at peace.

Love,

Your granny

It wasn’t that Shinsuke didn’t make an effort to find his soulmate. He firmly believed that their destined connection would eventually manifest, but he had limited time left with his grandmother and wanted to ensure she had the best life possible before he embarked on a lifelong journey with his soulmate. He trusted his soulmate would understand and empathize with the priority he placed on his grandmother’s well-being.

He cast a glance at his pinky, their initials glaring at him as if he kept them waiting for over sixteen years.

Shinsuke chuckled softly, speaking to himself, “I’m on my way, I’m on my way to you. Just hold on a little while longer.”

. .

As the gentle music played through the church, signaling the commencement of the wedding ceremony, Shinsuke turned his gaze. His cousin Tenkin, who shared a similar journey, had found his soulmate in his thirties, despite the challenges they faced along the way. And now, it was Shinsuke’s moment, his turn to find his soulmate.

Observing his cousin standing at the altar, eagerly awaiting his bride’s arrival, Shinsuke finally noticed the uncanny resemblance. Being born just weeks apart, with their fathers as brothers, it was clear why many considered them to be almost like twins, with Shinsuke being the elder of the two.

One by one, each bridesmaid walked down and stood in their position.

In the blink of an eye, the small smile on Shinsuke’s face vanished, replaced by a sudden jolt in his chest that felt like a punch to the heart. His right hand instinctively pressed against the racing heart, feeling its profound beats pulsating beneath his palm. Meanwhile, an aching sensation emanated from his left pinky, prompting him to turn his palm upward and witness the radiant glow of his soulmate’s initials.

He turned his head just in time to catch a glimpse of the final bridesmaid making her way down the aisle.

As the world around them faded into a blur, his focus narrowed solely on her. In that moment, she became everything he could see, the embodiment of his desires. She was undeniably the one – the soulmate. His soulmate.

. .

Y/n’s grip tightened on her left hand, attempting to shake off the persistent tingle that pulsated in her left pinky.

Her soulmate’s initial glowed and her heart has been racing nonstop at the mere thought of, they’re here, my soulmate is here amongst the crowd at Tenkin and Jessica’s wedding.

As she gracefully walked down the aisle, her heart started pounding, not from nervousness, but from a deep instinct that whispered her soulmate was seated among the pews, awaiting her arrival.

Maintaining her composure and pace as they had rehearsed, she reached a specific area, only to feel her heart racing and a tingling sensation coursing through her pinky beneath her pristine white gloves. From the corner of her eyes, she noticed a head turning, and her knees nearly buckled in response.

When she made it to the altar and stood beside the rest of the bridesmaids, her eyes immediately fell upon a pair that was looking directly at her.

There was no mistaking that he felt it as well, that he was her soulmate.

“You okay, Y/n?” Victoria, the other bridesmaid ask, noticing how quiet she was when they found their seating at the reception dinner.

Y/n looked up and quickly nodded and smiled, “yes, it’s been a long day and the wine isn’t helping – just making me tired.”

“That means you need to dance then!” Jessica grabbed her wrist, tugging her up from her seat and to the dance floor. “Dance off the tiredness, the night is still young!”

Despite having a glass of wine, Y/n remained sober, which was unusual for her since typically even a single glass was enough to make her feel slightly tipsy. As she swayed on the dance floor with the bridesmaids, her eyes meticulously scanned the crowd, yet she couldn’t catch a glimpse of those unique eyes or the silver hair that closely resembled Tenkin’s. It made her wonder if they were related.

Another thought crossed her mind, perhaps he left? She allowed herself a moment of relaxation, releasing the tension that had built up.

The music transitioned to a slow melody, and a flurry of couples hurried onto the dance floor to partake in a waltz.

Y/n glanced at the girls, ready to join them in leaving the dance floor, when she noticed their penetrating gaze fixed upon her. A slight frown formed on her face as she struggled to decipher their expressions. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

Jessica swiftly grasped Y/n’s wrists, twirling her around, causing her breath to hitch in surprise. It was then that she realized the man she had been looking for was standing behind her all along. “Shinsuke, this is Y/l/n Y/n,” Jessica hurriedly introduced, “Y/n, meet Tenkin’s cousin, Kita Shinsuke.”

Y/n swallowed the lump in her throat, no doubt that he was her soulmate. His name matched the initials that is throbbing on her finger. “Shinsuke, would you like to dance with her?” Jessica added, squeezing Y/n’s shoulders in excitement.

Y/n hastily attempted to mutter an excuse but Shinsuke confidently stepped forward, a gentle smile gracing his lips as he extended his left hand. “I would be delighted to dance with you, Y/n,” he said, his voice warm and inviting.

Y/n groaned as she could feel the girls quickly fixing her hair, and smoothing her dress. Jessica reaches to pull off her gloves, “you don’t need to wear these anymore.”

Y/n’s fists quickly clenched preventing her from taking them off. “No – my – my hands are cold.”

They frowned but nodded their head, not wasting a second longer. “Enjoy your dance!”

Y/n locked eyes with Shinsuke, letting out a shaky breath before placing her gloved left hand in his. Immediately, her heart raced faster than before and her hand zapped as if she was shocked by electricity.

Shinsuke’s hand closed around her small ones and gripped it tightly, pulling her closer and placing her hand on his shoulders. “Thank you, for sharing a dance with me,” he murmured, he pulled her close, “is this okay?”

Y/n looked away, blushing profusely under his gaze. “Yes,” she murmured. She could not hear the music yet her body swayed with his lead. Her ears feel hot as it rang with how loud her heart was beating against her chest. His touch felt hot yet cool against hers and she yearned for more.

“Y/n.”

She hummed and looked up, catching his eyes, and noticing how they glowed at her.

“Do you feel it?” He whispered, his words resonating loud and clear as if they were meant only for her to hear.

She nodded her head, biting her lip, not trusting her voice at that moment.

A smile spread across his face, revealing a single dimple on his right cheek. “I feel it too,” he whispered, leaning in gradually until their foreheads gently touched. It was a simple yet intimate gesture between the two individuals who had just met but felt as though they had known each other for a lifetime.

To any onlooker, it would be evident that these two were soulmates. The intensity of their gaze and the effortless grace with which they waltz spoke volumes as if their souls have finally reunited in perfect harmony.

Once the music ended, her heart dropped slightly, her mind racing with what do we do now?

Shinsuke held onto her hand, a silent acknowledgment of the shared connection they both felt. “Will you come with me? Please?” he asked, his voice filled with earnestness.

Without a moment of hesitation, she nodded in agreement as he guide them away from the dance floor.

He guides them to an empty bench out on the garden terrace. He immediately shrugged off his suit jacket, placing it around her shoulders. “Please, have a seat.”

Y/n blushed under his gaze, God, he’s so handsome.

A gentle chuckle escaped Shinsuke’s lips as he gracefully lowered himself to one knee, causing her eyes to widen in surprise. He reached out for her gloved left hand, his thumb caressing her knuckles. “May I… remove it?” he asked, his voice filled with warmth and anticipation.

“Yes,” she whispered. A smile adorned his face, revealing both of his dimples and Y/n’s head tilt back as she lets out a groan, exclaiming, “you’re absolutely torturing me with your dimples.”

Shinsuke made a mental note of her weakness against his dimples, etching it into his memory. With a swift motion, he gently removed her glove and turned her palm upward, his gaze fixated on the initials engraved on her pinky.

His initials.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, he locked eyes with her before glancing down at her soulmate mark. His thumb tenderly brushed over it, and this time, instead of tingling or jolts, a sense of calmness, warmth, and peace washed over him. Shinsuke’s breath trembled as he lift his left pinky, revealing his own soulmate mark – the initials that belong to her.

Y/n blinked, fighting back the tears that welled up in her eyes. She reached out and tenderly touched his mark, a bittersweet smile forming on her lips. “It took us sixteen years, but we finally found each other,” she whispered, her voice filled with emotions. “I shouldn’t complain,” she murmured, holding his hand, “some people wait an eternity to meet their soulmate. Sixteen years may have felt long, but what truly matters is that we found each other.” With determination in her eyes, she raised her pinky, a symbolic gesture. “I don’t want to waste any more time,” she declared, her words filled with a sense of urgency and desire to embrace their newfound connection.

“Me too,” Shinsuke whispered, linking his pinky with hers.

. .

The ring on Y/n’s finger shimmered, catching the light with a radiant sparkle. Just a few weeks after their fateful encounter, Y/n and Shinsuke exchanged vows in a small and intimate wedding ceremony. It was customary for soulmates to marry soon after finding each other, and both Shinsuke and Y/n were eager to seize the opportunity and avoid any further separation. Time was too precious to waste.

Stepping out of the bathroom with only a towel wrapped around his waist, Shinsuke’s eyes widened as the dimly lit bedroom was suddenly brightened, illuminated by the flickering candles on the cake being carried by Y/n. After a tiring day out in the field, he indulged in a long shower, craving the comfort of his home and spending the rest of his day with his wife.

“Happy birthday Shinsuke!”

He couldn’t remember the last time he celebrated his birthday with a cake and candles.

“Make a wish, Shin,” Y/n whispered, eyes gleaming with love.

He closed his eyes for a moment before opening them and blowing out the candles. Shinsuke takes the cake out of her hands and set it on their dresser before approaching her.

Y/n gazed into his eyes and immediately recognized the familiar look within them. Y/n discovered that Shinsuke wasn’t as sociable as Tenkin, but he spoke through his silence, specifically through his eyes.

As he was at the moment.

She lets out a hesitant laugh, knowing what is about to come with those dark and dilated eyes. They are illuminated with passion and love. Love just for her. Y/n backed up until her back was pressed against the wall and Shinsuke reached out to grasp her hips, pressing himself against her. “Shin…” she half moaned and gasped when his towel dropped from his waist, allowing her to feel his erect bulge pressing against her.

His fingers slowly began bunching up her nightgown from below the waist. “Y/n,” he whispered hoarsely into her ear, his voice barely audible, “I’ve made a wish…”

Y/n feels his fingers rubbing between her legs, she can feel his smile against her cheek as he discovers she wore no panties underneath. It has become futile wearing panties when he was just going to throw them at the end of the bed. “Y – yes and…”

“And are you going to make my wish come true?”

“If I can…”

“Oh, I know you can…” Shinsuke hooked an arm underneath one knee, hiking her leg around his hip. He rubs his cock along her pussy and she can feel his precum smearing along her slit. “Will you let me make love to you without a condom?”

Y/n trails her hands up and along his muscular tanned arms until she can cup his face, pulling his head down for a kiss. “It’s your birthday, my body, heart, and soul is yours, do as your please.”

With her permission, Shinsuke thrust inside her, feeling the complete rawness of skin-to-skin contact. “Fuck, you’re so tight… how are you so tight when we make love practically every night?”

Y/n kissed him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and lifting herself to wrap both her legs around his waist. Shinsuke easily held her, slowly creating a pace and savoring the euphoric bliss. “Can we throw away the condoms? I don’t think I can… go back to using them.”

“Do you want to make a baby, Shin?” Y/n rolled her hips, meeting his thrusts. “We will make a baby at the rate we are going if we don’t use condoms anymore.” She runs her finger through his hair, “you can’t get enough of me just as I can’t get enough of you…”

His breath is heavy as he contemplates her question, “I wanna have more time with you before we have kids,” he whispered against her lips, “we have only just found each other and we still have time before we start making babies.”

Y/n hummed, agreeing. “Babies?”

Shinsuke shifted her against the wall and began to fasten his thrusts. “Of course… babies… as many babies.”

Their bedroom began resonating with their moans and the sound of skin on skin.

“Shin,” Y/n moaned, “I’m – I’m ovulating – it may not be the best time to cum inside of me.” His hips only seemed to increase with deeper and harder penetration. “Shin… Shin – oh… I’m so…”

His grip on her thighs tighten as he came inside of her, and the thoughts of Y/n ovulating and him cumming inside of her fertile womb tipped him over the edge. Forget his words moments ago about waiting on making babies. “Let’s make a baby now…”

Y/n’s laugh echoed throughout their room as she unwrapped her legs from around his waist, Shinsuke assisted by gently helping her back on her feet. “There’s a high chance we just made one now.” She leaned herself onto the tip of her toes to press her lips against his, for a soft kiss. “But I would love to make a baby with you.”

“Babies,” he corrected, pecking her lips and walking backward, and pulling her along as they both fall onto their bed. “I want babies with you.”

. . .

E/n: I swear, he's just the sweetest man in my head. Now back to editing my other works... or creating new stuff...

>>> @queenelleee @mfreedomstuff @erintaro @callmeraider @chaotic-fangirl-blog @wolffmaiden @cloud-lyy

#haikyuu smut #haikyu x reader #haikyuu kita #haikyuu kita shinsuke #kita fluff #kita smut #kita x #kita x reader #kita shinsuke smut #kita shinsuke fluff #kita shinsuke x y/n #kita shinsuke x reader #haikyuu soulmate au

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thegreatestsandwich · 1 year

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Namor telling the reader he loves them for the first time! I think it would be really cute and meaningful

I find everything I thought I lost before (Namor x f!reader)

Masterlist

Pairing: Namor x F!reader

Word count: 838 words

Summary: The avengers managed to bring everyone back after defeating Thanos, Namor had been saving his feelings for quite some time

Warning: Nothing really, well I really don’t think there is a warning, just fluff or my idea of fluff

A/N: Hey! I just want to say that I am really grateful that everyone is still keeping the love for Namor and Tenoch alive, plus I'm enjoying all the fluffy requests you guys gave me, so thank you so much!

Coments, Reblogs and Asks are happily received!

Namor stared at his hands, completely frozen, not knowing what to do. He stood up and turned around, his eyes opening in fear, trying to find you anywhere across his cave. His hands were trembling but he force down the need to throw up as he began calling desperately at you.

“(Y/N)!” He screamed, moving inside his cave, throwing things out of his way. “(Y/N)!” He tried again.

Namora was the one who found him sitting on the floor, his gaze completely lost, she kneeled in front of him when she gave him the news. It wasn’t only you, it was most of his people.

It took him one year to be able to step inside of his home, it took him two years to be able to sleep on his bed, it took him almost four years to be able to sleep without nightmares.

The first years without them (without you) were the hardest for everyone as for him. The others were lost and even if Namor wasn’t in the right mind to continue helping them, he force himself to just suck it up and keep a strong façade.

At first, the others waited outside of their homes for the returning of the lost ones but it never happened. So they began putting altars in honor of the dead.

Namor almost broke down when he saw your name in one of those.

He became a bit secluded (even more than before), only going out to patrol the borders of the city or to help when his people asked him to. He began recollecting his food and bringing it to his home, not wanting to another one rob the job of you.

Then it happened, five years into your disappearance, he felt the waters go stiff, a part of himself growing in anger at the prospect that the surface-dwellers occasioned another fight that could affect the life of his people. He took his spear and without mentioning anything to the others he swam up with anger.

As his head manage to break the water surface, his eyes could see how some of them began appearing out of air. He frowned before that tiny voice inside of his head urged him to go back home, quickly.

He didn’t even had time to speak as Namora and Attuma announced the re-appearance of the lost ones.

Everything was so overwhealming that he needed some time, he asked for help, told them to help the others, that he needed some time and they accepted without any question. Namor swam to his cave, tired and confused at what was happening when he saw you there, sitting on the floor completely confused at your surroundings.

“K’uk’ulkan?” Your sweet voice brought him back but he couldn’t move. Namor stared at you as if you were a dream and couldn’t help himself but to slap his cheek with force. “K’uk’ulkan!” You quickly stood up, stopping your hand. You were real, you were here.

“Pa’atik.” Wait. Namor gently spoke, making you halt your movements and look at him in confusion. “Justo... pa'atik.” Just wait.

“Ma'alobech? Ba'ax úuch. Ma' a wilik Jach ma'alob k'uj 'túun K’uk’ulkan, wáaj a yaax yaantal wenel ma'alob.” Are you alright? What happened? You do not look so good, K’uk’ulkan, have you been sleeping well?

He laughed at your observation. “Jach a culpa in wilo'obe' beyo'.” It is your fault I look like this.

“Bixi?” How so? Your eyes couldn’t help but widened at the accusation. “Ba'ax ts'o'ok in meentik jump'éel ba'al?” Have I done anything?

Namor shook his head, “Tin tukultaj ts'o'ok u sa'atal.” I thought I lost you.

His hand gently touched your cheek, you could feel the anguish of them, it hit you so deeply that it brought tears on your eyes. Before you could say anything, he hugged you tightly against his body, you doubt for a moment before placing your hands gently on his back. “In yaakunech.” I love you.

Your breath caught in your throat. “Wáaj ba'ax?” What? You whispered.

“In yaakunech.” I love you. He repeated as his hands trailed upwards your body and held your face in them. “Táan jach cegado u, ba'ale' desapareciste tin k'abo'ob, in yaakunech, ma' je'el in K'astal a ka'a.” I was so blinded to see, but you disappeared in my hands, I love you, I cannot lose you again. Namor leaned his forehead against yours, closing his eyes and holding you against him.

You just stood there, watching him, holding him as his words echoed inside of you. He loved you, Namor loved you. His words made you cray in a way you thought never had cried before. You wanted to hate him for making you cry but you knew the truth and you didn’t have the nerve to deny it.

“I-In yaakunech xan.” I-I love you too. You whispered so quietly that Namor thought he imagined you say it. He couldn’t help but laugh, a huge smile forming on his face, softly dragging your face so he could kiss you.

#mcu namor #namor x reader #namor fic #namor x fem!reader #namor x y/n #namor x you #namor imagine #namor fluff #namor fanfiction #namor is the love of my life #black panther wakanda forever #black panther imagine #black panther: wakanda forever #black panther #this is pure fluffiness

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whimsigothwitch · 1 year

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Witchy tin altars

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tiredwitchplant · 8 months

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How to Use Herbs: Lavender (English Lavender)

Hello. Back with another post about how to use an herb. This time the herb is lavender. We discussed the history, powers and etc in another post (That I will link in a moment) and now we are going to see how we can use it. >>>> Post about Lavender

Alchemy Formulas:

*Remember when it says one part, try a teaspoon of it first. Always experiment with less amount than too much.

Mercury

one part lavender flowers

one part gum mastic

one part cinnamon chips

one part cinnamon oil

one part lavender oil

Air

one part gum arabic

one part cinnamon

one part lavender oil

one part clove oil

Change

one-part calamus root (Uranus; change)

one part lavender (Mercury; clarity)

one-part powdered nutmeg (Uranus; change)

one part cinnamon (Uranus, Mercury; change)

two parts sandalwood oil (Mercury, Moon; communication between conscious and subconscious minds)

Fame

one part cedar chips (Jupiter; renown)

one part angelica (Sun; authority)

one part myrtle (Venus; the arts)

one part gum mastic (Uranus; innovation)

one part lavender oil (Mercury; knowledge)

one part carnation oil (Jupiter; expansion)

Peace

one-part jasmin flowers (Moon; emotions)

one part myrrh resin (Saturn; grounding)

one part rose petals (Venus; love)

one part lotus oil (Neptune; inspiration)

one part lavender oil (Mercury; communication)

Spells:

Snake-beckoning Spell

Place an image on an altar, either of a snake or of an affiliated deity— the Minoan Serpent Goddess for instance.

Surround this with fresh lavender or warm the essential oil in an aroma burner.

Call the spirit. Be prepared to explain why you have issued the invitation.

Do this spell before bedtime, to receive a visitation in your dreams.

Don’t Sabotage My Success Spell (Workplace Edition)

Prepare a separate mojo for each person who appears to sabotage you.

Write the co-worker’s name on a square of brown paper three times.

Write your own name over each of the co-worker’s names, saying: “I cross you and I cover you.��

Anoint the corners of the paper with essential oils of bergamot, clove bud, and lavender.

Fold up the paper, placing it inside a red flannel drawstring bag, together with a devil’s shoestring root and some cumin seed.

Maintain this discreetly in the workplace, feeding daily with a drop of essential oil of lavender for reinforcement.

Herbal Beauty Glamour Spell

2 ounces of beeswax

1/2 cup coconut oil

1/2 cup olive oil

Glass measuring cup

Pan filled with water

Spoon

10 to 12 drops of lavender essential oil

10 to 12 drops of yarrow essential oil

Mirror

Pretty tin or jar

Combine the beeswax, coconut oil, and olive oil into the glass measuring cup and warm it in the pan full of water. This creates a double boiler like effect.

Once the wax melts, stir everything (the oils and beeswax) until well blended and remove it from the heat.

Add the lavender and yarrow oils, stirring them in slowly. As you do so, look into the mirror and say, I am lovely, I am desirable, I am magical. Beauty is more than skin deep. See me for the magnificence of my inner self.

Before it cools, pour your salve into a pretty tin or jar. After it has firmed up, use it on your skin.

Baths and Cleansing:

Maximum Power Spiritual Cleansing Bath

sea salt

rose and calendula blossoms

lavender oil

rose oil

rosemary oil

sandalwood oil

frankincense oil

myrrh oil

white rose hydrosol

Add copious quantities of sea salt to your bath water.

Add a drop of each essential oil into the water.

Float rose and calendula blossoms in the water, if possible.

Bath for Mercury

Herbs: lavender, white sandalwood, horehound, marjoram, thyme

Oils: lavender, white sandalwood, marjoram, anise

Self-Love Bath Bomb Bag

1 tablespoons of lavender

1 tablespoon of mandrake

1 tablespoon vervain

1 tablespoon vetivert

10-inch square of thin muslin or cotton

White ribbon

Red candle

Place the herbs in the center of the square of the cloth and gather up the corners.

Use the white ribbon to tie it, forming a pouch.

Run a warm bath and hang the pouch over the faucet, allowing the water to run through it, filling the tub with the essence of the herbs.

Light the candle and climb into the tub. Allow yourself to soak in the warm, fragrant water.

Use the herb pouch to wash your body, as you do, gaze into the candle's flame.

Visualize yourself radiating an aura of self-confidence and power. See yourself as the sort of person who attracts attention from those who are worthy.

When the water cools, extinguish the candle and get out of the tub. After you've dried yourself, dispose of the herb pouch by burying it or burning it.

Oils, Potions and Powders

Oil Blend for Patience

1 part rose

1 part lavender

1 part pine

Oil Blend for Peace

1 part violet

1 part lavender

1 part jasmine

1 part sandalwood

Masculine Oil Blend

Base note: 10 drops patchouli

Middle note: 10 drops sandalwood

Top note: 3 drops lavender

For the rest of the recipe, you will need:

1-ounce grated beeswax

Double boiler

1 ounce jojoba oil

2 metal 1-ounce containers

Flat toothpicks

Heat the grated beeswax in the double boiler until it is liquid.

Add the jojoba oil and gently mix the two ingredients together to achieve a homogenous blend.

Pour half the liquid into each container and add 3 drops of your essential oil blend.

Quickly stir the mixture with the toothpicks before the wax begins to set.

Keep one container for anointing yourself and the other as a gift to your consort so that he or she may come to appreciate you on a new level. If you are solitary and without a consort, you can use one for anointing your skin and the other for charging candles and ritual tools.

Love Potion #9

1. Choose nine love herbs. Consider these: Damiana

Ginger

Grains of Paradise

Hibiscus

Lovage

Melissa (lemon balm)

Peppermint

Red clover

Rose petals

(Other options might include adder’s tongue, cardamom pods, catnip, cubeb, lavender, red raspberry leaves or rose hips.)

2. Make a strong infusion of all the herbs, strain, and serve.

Love Powder Drawing Powder

1. Grind the following botanicals to a fine powder:

Basil

Lavender

Rose petals

Yarrow

Optional: ginger blossoms

2. Blend with rice powder.

3. Sprinkle around your home, your bedroom, on your sheets and on you.

Teas and Soothing Pillow:

Bedtime Tea

1 part lavender

1 part catnip

1 part verbena

1 part chamomile

1 cup of boiling water

Mix dry herbs into a small jar

To brew, pour 1 cup of boiling water over 1 teaspoon of the blend you made in the jar.

Steep for 5 - 7 minutes. Strain and enjoy.

Love Tea

1 part rose petals

1 part lavender

1 part jasmine

Pinch of cinnamon (optional)

1 cup of boiling water.

Mix dry herbs into a small jar

To brew, pour 1 cup of boiling water over 1 teaspoon of the blend you made in the jar.

Steep for 5 - 7 minutes. Strain and enjoy.

Dream Pillow (Hecate’s Pillow)

Hecate provides protection at night as well as psychic enhancement, so that you can journey safely during dreams. Appeal to Hecate to block nightmares too.

Dried lavender

Dried mullein

Essential oil of lavender

Optional: tuberose absolute

Blend two parts lavender to one part mullein.

Sprinkle a few drops of the essential oils over the dried botanicals.

Allow this to dry thoroughly and use it to fill a black pillow.

For optimum results, create and inaugurate the pillow during the Dark Moon or on Halloween/Samhain.

Again, sorry for such a long post. Please try to follow the instructions to the best of your abilities or mix and match and experiment. Happy witching. Bye byes~

Sources

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