hi freaks.. long time no see..... what r we feeling about a regina x rodrick fic..?

shark vs the universe
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"

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Misplaced Lens Cap
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸

blake kathryn
NASA
Sade Olutola
art blog(derogatory)
we're not kids anymore.

Discoholic 🪩

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trying on a metaphor

oozey mess

#extradirty
Claire Keane

@theartofmadeline
Peter Solarz
DEAR READER

Product Placement

seen from United States
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@esotericbluntbaby
hi freaks.. long time no see..... what r we feeling about a regina x rodrick fic..?
which one do i work on
ghostface!hamzah
ex!hamzah
secretagent!hamzah
other (leave it in the comments)
what's up guys i haven't been on tumblr for the past like 2 weeks because once again calc is kicking my ASS but THANK YOY SO MUCH FOR ALL THE NOTES LIKE HELLO I DIDNT REALIZE U GUYS LIKED MY STUFF THAT MUCH???
i will attempt to write over the weekend for you my children
would u guys mind if i also wrote devon bostick stuff here 🧍♀️🧍♀️
a sense of agency
hamzahthefantastic x reader
description: being assigned with another agent in order to find the lead on a string of murders and disappearances, your patience was wearing thin on hamzah's stubbornness, impulsivity, and arrogance with the case. a sudden change of heart after a mission almost gone horribly wrong creates an argument arising. agents aren't supposed to be romantically involved, causing conflicting emotions to navigate through a dilemma of either falling behind on your tasks or falling for each other.
mentions: specialagent! hamzah x specialagent! reader, ANGST ANGST ANGST, forced proximity, blood/violence, argument, forbidden romance
skyfall by adele
--
being an agent meant taking risks.
and sometimes, those risks felt like they weren't worth it; like the cost was greater than the benefit.
you had been in the agency for as long as you could remember, being gifted in your craft. like a dancer, the field was your stage; known for your talents in acrobatics and timing, you ranked higher and higher with each mission. you were a magician in the camouflage and secrecy of the espionage, pulling tricks out of your sleeves and bombs, instead of rabbits, out of your top hat. however, you worked alone. you had always mentioned how the job always comes first; how getting closer to other agents would do you no good, nor would do them any justice if they were killed in the dangerous acts throughout your own personalized versions of heaven and hell combined.
that was, until you got assigned with agent al-emad.
from the very beginning, he was as cold as frostbite in antartica; possibly, even colder than you were. you noticed his knack for his own stubbornness and how he refused to do certain things that you had asked from him; your face grew red with anger with how he was actually correct about refusing the tasks you gave him. in addition, it would also occur with him rubbing his knowledge of the field in your face, even worse than a simple "i told you so." not to mention his complete lack of communication when it came to planning out infiltrations and whatnot. he was cold. he was arrogant. he was narcissistic. he was impulsive.
you liked it.
you enjoyed your lack of enjoying in his personality; it made it easier for you to detach since you never were attached to him in the first place. in fact, you didn't even know his first name, referring to him as either "agent" or "al-emad." he was simply a man you had to your work with; a co-worker, at most. there was nothing friendly about the relationship between you two, casting spells of hatred at each other with wands of words and actions. you thought that you would get the mission over with and would never have to see or interact with your partner ever again.
except, it wasn't as simple as that.
--
as you were both attempting to sneak out of your target's mansion after looking for more clues on his next plan, the two of you failed to realize that the house was rigged with explosives. so, after you tripped on wire, you were met with an explosive to your ribcage and a stinging, raw, and painful sensation; your knowledge of bombs told you that your wounds were pretty bad.
as your partner navigated throughout the house, he turned around as the loud bang from the propellant explosive going off, catching you as you muffled your own scream of agony. helping you limp out of the house and into the van that you two used for transportation, the two of you traveled back to the motel room you resided in with the vehicle's air being filled with complete silence.
your boss wanted this mission to be as inconspicuous as possible, causing the two of you to share a one bed, horribly dusty room in a run-down motel on 6th street. the fluorescent lights flickered on and off with each step of the hallway used to get back to your room, as the smell of cigarette smoke and sex filled the air. a light breeze was met with your wounds, causing a shiver to fill your spine. as he still helped you stand straight, he shoved his hand into his jacket's pocket and gabbed his keys, jingling it slightly to get the room key into his hand. pushing the key into the door knob, you were met with a familiar sight from the past three months you've been on this mission.
the air was still the same as the outside, being filled with the previous tenant's lingering cigarette smoke with a hint of bodily fluids. dim lighting echoed throughout the peel off wallpaper and molded ceilings. the sound of the fire alarm beeping over and over again annoyed you at first, before you got used to it after a week of its constant noise.
your partner sat you down at the kitchen's island on a stool that was wobbly and ripped before he rushed to the bathroom, a sense of urgency apparent in his strides and calculated movements of finding the first aid kit. he returned with furrowed brows and, seemingly, a deadpan stare of annoyance.
"lift up your shirt," he commanded.
you blinked out of surprise, "what?"
"are you deaf? lift up your shirt so i can fix you up."
"i can do it myself," you spat.
"no, you can't see. i'll do it."
"fuck you mean 'i can't see?'"
"i mean that there's no fucking mirrors in this room, genius," he scolded, "stop being so difficult."
you unbuttoned your tight, collared shirt, revealing an enormous, throbbing, and bloody gash on your ribcage. a bead of sweat rolled down his face as his expression turned from annoyed to worried.
"what?" you questioned.
"how are you not screaming in pain? this looks horrible."
"i'll be fine," you snapped, "get on with it."
taking a sterile saline solution bottle from the first aid kid, he squeezed it onto a towel before dabbing it lightly onto the wound. you winced as suddenly the room felt hotter as you sweated profusely; the pain you were in was indescribable, yet, you would never let him know that. instead, it was brought upon him by the tremble of your breathing and the nervous gulps you partook in as he cleaned your wound.
"are you okay?" he questioned.
"i'm fine."
"are you sure?"
"i said i'm fine," you retorted, "you don't have to act like you care."
you felt him pause his movements for a moment, "what do you mean?"
"it's obvious you don't like me. you don't have to act like you care just because i got hurt. i can handle it."
"you got hurt because you weren't careful. what were you thinking?"
"oh i'm sorry," you hissed in sarcasm, "did you know shit was rigged?"
"no-"
"exactly. don't blame it on me."
"i'm blaming it on you because you're the one who's hurt. you're the one i have to take care of."
"oh, please-"
he began to put gauze on your wound, "and you're not even appreciative of it."
"i don't have to be appreciative of it because it's all fucking fake, al-emad."
"and how do you know that? hm? you think you know everything, don't you-"
"you're talking? you, out of all people, are saying that i think i know everything?"
he finished putting the gauze on your wound, standing up straight so that you were now looking up at the hard gaze he fixated onto you, "yeah, i'm talking. you think you're so fucking smart all the fucking time-"
"are you seriously- that's all you. you have the audacity to say that i think i'm so smart-"
"you almost got fucking killed. you almost left me on this mission alone."
you scoffed, "oh, please. i'm fine."
"no, you're not," he raised his voice, "you have a deep fucking gash on your ribcage that's going to get worse by tomorrow. what were you thinking being so careless?"
"y'know, you should've just left me to fucking die since i'm such a burden to you."
"don't give me that shit-"
"no, you should've just fucking left me! you should've just left me in that goddamn house-"
"why the fuck would i do that?"
"you're scolding me like i'm some five year old. i'm not. i'm a grown ass woman- not like you'd know anything about women, in general."
"what's that supposed to mean?'
you got closer to his face, "i'm saying that you're a fucking asshole. that's what i'm saying."
"yeah? that's what you're saying- that i'm an asshole, right?"
"yeah, that's what i'm fucking saying. i'm saying that you're an asshole who doesn't know anything about treating a woman at all!"
"yeah?"
"yeah-"
suddenly, his hands grabbed onto your cheeks as he leaned in, kissing you feverishly with a sense of urgency that you only found in him when he was grabbing the first aid kid.
and surprisingly, you liked it.
kissing him like this was your last day alive, you forgot all about the pain in your ribcage as his tongue explored your mouth like a ship using a map to sail the atlantic. not wanting to let go, the two of you took breaths with every open mouth that occurred during the kiss. desperation and neediness filled the air like a dog waiting for a treat from its owner. you felt his hands tighten onto your cheeks as you grabbed onto his waist, still sitting down on the stool as he was standing in front of you.
finally, the thought that this was your partner for your mission popped into your head, causing you to let go.
"we can't do this."
he pressed his lips onto you once more, a magnetic field appearing between two polarized people. his hands made their way to your waist, gripped them tightly as if you were going to fall through them like sand if he didn't. though you didn't want to stop, completely forgetting why you let go in the first place, he let go.
"then, look me in the eyes and tell me to stop."
"i can't do that either."
once more, your tongues met in the middle as you completely forgot who you were kissing. as he let go, you felt his lips latch onto your skin with open mouthed, wet kisses and sucking. stars filled your eyes as the pleasure became overwhelming. this was a man that you hated for his negative traits, yet, when his lips were on you, everything felt correct. letting go after time had passed, though you didn't know how much, you stared at him as his gaze shifted to a much more softer, loving one. however, your own stare foiled the romance and care left in his eyes; you looked at him with impending doom, like someone who realized there was a ticking time bomb strapped onto them. conflict filled your head.
all missions have risks.
this one, however, could be the death of you.
--
authors note
okay guys i am definitely going to make more of special agent reader and special agent hamzah because i fucking love the angst i put into this but give me feedback in the comments pls
are we hungry? are we STARVING?
i need someone to make an edit of devon bostick and hamzah because they both have videos of them wearing a police uniform.
i’ve discovered your work recently and absolutely love it!! trying to find fics to read is kind of hard on your account, would you ever be interested in creating a master link?
masterlist coming soon guys :p i will figure out how to make one!
heyy im so curious as to what fics ur working on currently (●’◡’●)
hii my queens i apologize for not posting in like a week 💔💔 i had a math test i had to absolutely lock tf in on
tbh i have no like "list" of fics im currently working on, but moreso ideas (since i literally pick an idea and then write it all in like 2-3ish hours afterwards)
but currently i have:
- more ghostface hamzah
- hamzah x circusperformer!reader
- mr. and mrs. smith inspired fic
- more boxer! hamzah (specifically a fluff fic abt the aftermath of the match, where he admits his feelings towards you)
- i wanted my own take on awkward!hamzah x reader
- reader took a job offer in another country, hamzah rushes to find her to beg her to stay before she gets on her plane
- ex! hamzah gets a side job at the place you work at (i love forced proximity)
- also just more ex! hamzah in general
- hamzah x reader where it's all the moments you two were obliviously in love (or an angst fic regarding it)
- fake dating for one of your family member's wedding where you both fall in love, but are too scared to say it until he gets flirted with (miscommunication)
- a fic with this gist:
"we can't do this"
"then, tell me to stop."
"you know i can't do that."
and more :p
will def be working on fics this weekend since i have no more studying for math (for now) love u guys!
is a mr. and mrs. smith fanfic of reader x hamzah something that we want or do i keep that in my little head of mine
idk i have a plot in mind where the reader and hamzah r both spies and have to pretend to be married and initially hate each other but then, after a mission that almost went horribly wrong, hamzah's cleaning up the reader and the tension in the room suddenly changes after they both realize they like each other
do we mess with this do i write this
yes ur so mother
no ur a dumbass with weird fantasies
im ovulating i might write some fluff next... this is crazy i am always an angst and smut girl who am i
OH MY GOD YHE GHOST FACE FIC WAS SOO GOOD I GENUINELY HAD TO PUT MY PHONE DOWN BC THE WAY IT HAD ME FEELING GOODBYYEEE ITS GENUINELY SO GOOD😩😩 im so very thankful for you he’s so nasty i need him
i love making u guys go absolutely feral n then reading my comments <33 new fic soon!
is ghostface hamzah coming out soon? 💕
"all yours, sweetheart."
ghostface! hamzah x reader
description: hamzah had always been a sweetheart; flowers were always on the table, kisses were always exchanged, and love was always in the air of your abode. however, behind the sweetheart that you know and love, there's a much more sinister version that comes out at night.
mentions: nsfw!, a mix of degrating and praise, power kink..?, knife play..???, angst, blood, violence/murder (in a vigilante way since i rly doubt that hamzah would just be a cold blooded killer if he had to be one), hamzah's a little insane but so is the reader lowk, rape is mentioned once on the television from the news channel
--
hamzah was, and is, the perfect man.
you didn't know how to describe the way he treated you, yet, you knew that you had never been treated so well before. emotionally, he was always so supportive of you, as if he was the foundation of your passions, hobbies, and talents. throughout the long nights of being a college student, he was owl through the night, staying up with you as you did your essay by matching the energy you gave off and editing. if you were burnt out from working and studying, baths were run, completed with scented candles, snacks, and your favorite show. he knew exactly what you needed, whenever you needed it.
if you wanted anything of material origins, his card was yours. no matter how expensive anything you wanted was, he'd always find a way to give it to you, whether it was posting more or finding a side gig with his knowledge on technology. in fact, whenever you went out to grab food with friends or family, he insisted that you could use his card. hamzah trusted you with his life, so his credit card number was entered into your notes and virtual wallet. you never abused his money, in fact you still ran everything by him whenever you used his card; to which, he'd kiss you or pull you into a side hug and say, "of course, baby," in a voice softer than the clouds.
physically, hamzah knew how to please you. each night that you were pent up out of frustration or stress from the amount of work your professors gave you, hamzah worked his hands, hips, and tongue like a god. he left you shaking, panting, and begging for more as he somehow knew exactly what felt good for you or not. overall, he put your pleasure first in every single way.
so, you decided to give back to him tonight. he didn't do anything out of the usual, such as flowers on the table and cuddles in the morning before he has to work. you simply felt like giving back and rewarding him for how amazing of a boyfriend he was.
you were currently dolled up with the makeup that you remembered he likes; not too much so that you look completely different, but just enough to enhance the features that he fell in love with. though you were fully clothed, black, lacy lingerie adorned the curves and body that he worshipped. currently, you were making dinner: a pasta and chicken cutlet recipe that he said he'd marry you for the first time you made it for him. the air was cold with a breeze from the open window in front of you as you washed the remaining dishes. hamzah was coming home soon from working with martin and you wanted the place to be spotless, since you knew he'd insist on washing the dishes and cleaning up the kitchen after you cooked if it wasn't. the tv was on the news channel, yet, the new report that was currently live caught your attention. you listened from afar.
"channel 9, here, and this is theresa bell with breaking news about a killer on the loose."
your head turned towards the tv, brows furrowed in confusion. the area you and hamzah lived in was always safe, so news like this was shocking.
"local police departments have recently investigated a string of ominous murders in york, ontario. the victims, whose identities will not be released yet to the public to respect their families, were all wealthy males in the area. i have roger martel at the scene of the latest slaying, happening around twenty minutes ago on 15th street and houston. how is it over there, roger?"
the camera switched to a man in the city, seemingly freezing and focused.
"it is not good over here, theresa. local police are saying that the common string behind all three victims are that they were involved in scandals, such as infidelity, scamming, and even rape charges. i don't know about you, theresa, but it's possible that a vigilante is uprising in the streets of york, taking out rich, wealthy, and morally wrong criminals-"
you switched off the tv, slightly spooked about the resent spike in violence. you decided to text hamzah out of anxiety and fear.
you
9:04 pm | hi baby are you almost home?
9:04 pm | i just saw the news about the murders thats actually crazy af
9:04 pm | be safe while ur out there okay? dont get killed or else like ill be sad n shit
9:05 pm | come home soon
hamzah :O
9:05 pm | Yeah i'll be hpme soon
9:05 pm | Dont worry ill be fine not thgat u care lol.... sighs...
you
9:05 pm | Weirdo....
hamzah :O
9:05 pm | I might take a bit tho, gotta work a little more
you
9:06 pm | dont be out too late
9:06 pm | love u <3
hamzah :O
9:05 pm | I lov u 2 pretty woman <3
--
about thirty minutes passed and you heard keys in the door handle, indicating that hamzah was home. getting up from the couch, you switched off the show that you were watching and walked towards the front door. red and blue were already meowing towards their father, rubbing themselves on his calves and feet. looking up at him, he gave you a charming smile and kissed you on the forehead as he engulfed you in a strong and secure hug. you noticed that he was carrying a seemingly heavy duffel bag.
"jeez, what'd you bring to martin's?" you chuckled.
he laughed, scratching his neck, "y'know.. just some props for the video we were filming."
your hand snaked higher onto his neck, rubbing his hand with your own. with slow movements, your lips found its way to his neck, kissing it softly, then biting it and sucking slightly. a small shiver exited his body at the mere wetness of your tongue.
"what's this for?"
you moved away from his neck, now looking up at him from in front of him.
"you're just such a good boyfriend.. thought i should repay you for how amazing you are."
your lips found its way to his, slightly opening to make room for your tongues to swirl together for mere moments. his big hands made it to your waist, as your hands made its way to his cheek and neck. you let go of his mouth, watching his lips chase after yours for a little. you laughed at how cute the moment was; how pure he was.
"i made the pasta you like while you were gone."
"the orange one?"
"mhm."
"oh my god- i have to tell you about the video i just filmed while we eat."
--
dinner was filled with meaningful conversations, inside jokes, and the scarfing down of the food you had just made. currently, hamzah was feeding red and blue with brown bits of kibble from the big bag in the pantry, crouched over stainless steel food bowls on the floor besides the front porch. you, on the other hand, decided to do the laundry. you knew that he enjoyed taking the time to feed his cats and play with them after a long day of being out.
you were about to start the washing machine, however, the duffel bag he carried seemed like it had clothes in it from the way it barely crumpled in on itself. it didn't seem too heavy, however, your boyfriend wasn't necessarily a weak man. you walked towards the bag in the hallway, picking it up by its handles. taking it into the laundry room, you opened it with a puzzled expression.
inside the bag was a long, midnight black robe. oddly, you felt a wetness excreting it with every subtle touch; whatever was making this dampened, the cloak was soaked in it. putting the fabric back into the bag and looking down at your palms, a shiver ran through the back of your spine as if ice was shot down your shirt.
your hand was now red with a slightly slimy, thin liquid.
telling yourself not to panic and that this was probably fake blood from a youtube video, doubt began to fill your mindset. the first thing that offputted you was the fact that it had a stench: a slightly metallic, copper like odor. ghostlike, the crimson substance on your hands were translucent with only a hint of opaqueness.
hamzah was a good person; the kind of man who carries you if you're simply too tired or lazy to walk. you trusted him.
however, unless the video he just filmed was butchering meat to make some sort of cooking channel, a pit grew in your stomach. the mere thought of it being anything else made you absolutely sick to your stomach. however, you shrugged it off as being paranoid because of the news channel from earlier, as you were easily spooked.
moving the robe out of the way, a mask appeared in the bag alongside it. its features were hauntingly creepy; a long, oval and screaming-esque mouth adorned the plastic with two black, colorness holes for eyes. it was white, however, stained slightly pink with splotches of the same liquid accessorizing it. you stood in fear and confusion; what was he doing behind your back?
"have you seen my duffel bag?" you heard him yell from afar.
"uh- no! i haven't!" you retorted, quickly shoving the clothes back into the bag and placing it back to where it was, then walking with a sense of urgency back to the laundry room.
he passed by the door as you opened the washing machine door, quickly wiping your hands on the singular towel inside. a bead of sweat dripped down your face as your hands shook as they attempted to press the buttons to start it.
"found it!" he yelled from afar, a couple minutes before he came into the laundry room where he found you with an odd expression on your face.
"you alright?"
"huh? oh, yeah i'm fine. it's just a little- it's hot in here," you mentioned, wiping the bead of sweat off of your forehead.
--
your emotions of fear didn't subside by the time that he was fast asleep beside you. even after trying to relax, which consisted of using extra time on your skincare while a comedy played in the background, you still felt fear within your soul with each conversation he had with you.
the room was dark, only being illuminated by the nightlight on the nightstand beside you. with each rustle of the wind and trees, or each raccoon that snuck into a person's garbage can, you bit back a scream of terror. every little thing was freaking you out, almost as if there was a ghost tormenting your every move with anxiety and fear; as if he was the ghost that was haunting you.
you knew that curiousity killed the cat. you knew you should simply let go of it because the reason behind your findings probably isn't what you think it's because. it was a mere coincidence. it was a mere coincidence that he happened to be out when that man was murdered. it was a mere coincidence that he returned home with blood-stained clothes and a peculiar disguise. it was a mere coincidence that the two happened on the same night, around the same time. maybe, what you saw wasn't what you actually saw. you decided to find out for yourself. he was asleep, anyways.
getting up and making the most minimal amount of noise possible, you made your way back to the bag that he moved into your closet. the zipper was almost as loud as your heart rattling inside of your chest as you unzipped the bag, revealing the same sight as before. black is always black, no matter what color the substance is that stains it. you took a chance and pressed your hand onto the polyester, revealing a carbon copy of the same sight, and emotions, you felt while you were doing laundry. you felt the gut feeling sink into you like it was plunging into a mattress that was too soft.
"are you afraid of me now?"
you turned around, a shiver rushing up your spine once again, being met with the man that the bag of bloody clothes belonged to. you were too fearful to speak, let alone move. yet, you took into account his words: are you afraid of him now?
"no- no, of course not. why would i- i'm not afraid of you- not at all-"
he approached you with caution in his demeanor, "what do you think i did?"
"i don't know-"
his hand made its way to your cheek, rubbing it tenderly, "i think you do."
"hamzah, what did you do?" you asked, hesitant and fearful.
"i got home before you think i did, sweetheart," he mentioned with an eerie calmness in his voice, "what were you watching on tv?"
your breathing got deeper as his eyes looked down at you, waiting for a response that you were struggling to get out. his other hand found its way to your waist, snaking around it as if it was there forever.
"hm? are you gonna answer my question?"
you softened slightly at his touch, followed by a jolt of alertness, "i was watching the news."
"what'd you see on the news, baby?"
"the murders- i saw the murders, the ones in the city."
"now tell me," his grip tightened on your waist, "are you afraid of me, now?"
"i can't answer that."
"you think i'd hurt you?"
you looked into his eyes with vulnerability plastered in your vision, "would you?"
he leaned down slowly before kissing your lips with a delicateness and softness that foiled the situation at hand. pulling away, he looked at you with pure adoration and fulfillment in his eyes, as you looked at him with a sense of susceptibility.
"no, baby. no, i wouldn't. do you trust me?"
"i don't-" you spoke out your thoughts to yourself as you realized that you were still slightly afraid, "i don't know."
the smirk on his face turned from soft to mischivious, almost like seeing him mid possession. you felt the warmth in his eyes slightly dissolve. only a shimmering glint of love and adoration was visible in his now, somehow, alluring and yearning eyes. you were a toy in his line of sight, as he was a collector wanting more and craving the mere thought of unpackaging and unboxing of a fresh set. a switch in him flipped: something more awakened, something more primal, something out of control.
"y'know, this is why i didn't want you to find out," he backed you into the wall behind you, "i knew you'd be too weak. i'm sorry- so sorry, my poor baby- so scared of me now. "
you never thought that you'd be mocked as if you were a deer in headlights by the same man that would kiss your injuries whenever you even bumped your hand somewhere; though, you also never thought the same man was capable of murder. hamzah was being cocky and scary. hamzah was being mean; he was being mean and, somehow, you liked it. however, a side of you wanted to prove him wrong. you didn't know if you should be afraid of him or not. while he killed people, you never thought he'd hurt you before the news came out of him being a murderer. so, as prey does when it's being hunted, you attempted to fight back.
"i'm not scared of you, hamzah."
"is that so?"
"you wouldn't hurt me."
taking his hand off of your waist, you watched him reach into his pocket, taking out a pocket-knife and flicking it upwards in a swift motion. the sight of it caused your blood to turn cold. were you going to die at the mercy of the one you loved? something about it seemed off. though you were attempting to fight back, you felt as if there was some truth to those words. all the messages, touches, and conversations spoken by him wouldn't have led to him also killing you. it was, quite literally, impossible for him to be the reason behind your death.
you watched as he got on his knees in front of you, looking up at you with a simultaneous mix of pleading and demanding eyes.
"take off your clothes, pretty."
you removed his t-shirt, revealing the lingerie you prepared for him earlier. you watched as his eyes shifted, watching you undress in front of him and realizing the surprise you had mentioned during dinner. you watched his breathing get heavier and heavier with the longer he stared at your curves; you watched him pant as he watched his girl reveal herself to him.
"do you trust me?" he asked, pleading.
"do whatever you want to me. i'm all yours, sweetheart."
taking the knife, he lightly grazed it onto the skin of your thighs with a touch so light that it didn't leave a single mark. taking his time, he chased after the knife with kisses, bites, and hickeys throughout your body, like a cat chasing a mouse. soft gasps echoed throughout the room from your surprise perversion; who knew that something so scary could also be so hot?
taking the knife, he cut the fabric off of your body and watched it fall onto the floor. the lace was now damaged, as well as the overall shape of it. however, somehow that was the least of your worries; in fact, it turned you on even more. naked and aroused, you locked eye contact with him from above him as he kissed your thighs, stomach, and hips with a softness that contradicted all of his actions throughout the night.
"you do trust me," he stated.
"of course i do, hamzah."
"fuck, i love you."
dropping the knife onto the floor and kicking it below the dresser drawer, he rushed to suck onto your neck like a vampire latching onto his victim. you felt his tongue swirl onto your neck as if you were a lollipop waiting to be licked. he moved up to your jaw, then your cheek, moving slowly towards your mouth. his tongue found its way to yours, dancing in harmony with each other: a familiar taste and ritual that you have done with him many times. he only let go for mere moments to instruct you on the next move.
"jump."
his hands caught your thighs simultaneously as your strattled his waist. your back was still to the wall, being pushed farther into it as your kiss deepened. your hands made it down to his pants, pushing them down and revealing him in his boxers. similar to his actions earlier, you let go to pull his shirt above his head and off of him completely, leaving him in boxers. you tugged at them, moving them as far downwards as they could go from your position, to his knees.
"fuck me," you demanded.
your language startled him slightly; you had never been so vulgar, especially in bed before. you weren't a saint; obviously, he'd heard you curse numerous times during exam season and when telling him stories of people at your work. however, they were never directed towards him before. you felt him immediately get hard at your words.
"yeah? you want that?"
"fuck me- baby, please," you begged and pleaded, "i need it. i need it so bad- so fucking bad."
"can you take it, sweetheart?"
"yes- yes, i can take it. please, just fuck me already- please."
wasting no time, he inserted himself into you without leaving any second for you to adjust. you felt him inside of you so deeply that you saw stars with each stroke; hamzah had always pleasured you with bliss, however, this time had you begging for your life. his strokes got sloppier and sloppier as time went on, the sound of skin slapping together and moans echoed throughout the room.
at one point, you even screamed screams of pleasure; specifically, screams of his name that made him go even more insane than he already was. with no warning, he felt you clench onto him in a pulsing motion. he made you finish within mere minutes. though he felt you clench onto him, he kept on going at the same pace, fast and rough, until you felt him release inside of you.
he carried you to your bed before you both laid there, sweaty and panting. you noticed that he was zoned out, fixated on the ceiling with a worried expression on his face.
"what's wrong?"
"huh?"
you came closer to him, reassuringly putting his head on your chest, "you seem out of it, baby, what's on your mind?"
"they were bad people," he admitted as you stroked his cheek, "rapists, sex traffickers, scammers. i only killed them because they weren't doing any good in the world."
"if you knew they were horrible human beings, why do you seem upset over it?"
he looked up into your eyes with truth and mesmerization, "i don't want you to think of me any different. i don't want you to leave me."
kissing his forehead, you reciprocated the look he gave you, "they were bad people. i feel like you're doing the good in the world by getting rid of them. i know it's unethical, but sometimes the solutions to certain problems are."
"you were afraid of me."
"but i'm not anymore. now, i know why you did what you did."
"i thought you'd think i was crazy."
"you are."
"ouch," he gasped, fake offended.
"i won't be mad as long as you promise me one thing. one thing is all i ask for."
"anything. what is it, sweetheart?"
"don't get caught."
--
authors note!
do we like this i need thoughts and opinions or did i go too far help
i love ur writing so much and the boxer one REALLY did it for me oml. i love the bruises and the whole thing is just so aghhhh. if this is too kinky u don’t have to do it, but what about a masochist!reader fic 🤤 like not toooo much but hamzah like choking and slapping the reader after losing a boxing match?? like very angsty and a lot of tension and anger yk. i luv ur writing style so much and i hope u can write this soon 🩷
ITS UP! I FORGOT TO RESPOND TO THIS OOPS
tendencies
hamzah the fantastic x reader
description: hamzah, having a match on valentines day, gets caught up in his own world without his girlfriend. after missing the date he was supposed to go on with you after his match, he picks you up in the darkness of the night. the lingering angst and anger builds up into a plethora of tension; more specifically, a more erotic, steaming tension.
mentions: ANGST! obvi, arguments, build up of tension between you and him, both of you have your toxic traits that really shine through, nsfw!, impact play..?, size kink..?, masochist! reader, boxer! hamzah, hurt/comfort, happy ending because sadly i dont think i could ever give u guys a bad ending
PLS DONT KILL ME AGAIN I HAD TO STUDY FOR A CALC QUIZ
--
you were soaking wet, and not in the good way.
hamzah was supposed to be at the purring cat hours ago, leading to your valentines day spent skimming over the laminated menus and sipping on a martini that couldn't get you drunk even if you tried. the warm oranges and reds in the room's lighting and ambiance mimicked the anger you felt rising up inside of you. the lighting, obviously intended to create a romantic atmosphere for all the happy couples on the day of love, taunted you like it was a witch holding out lollipops to children.
now, if some external circumstance did happen, you weren't the type to get riled up or anything; you were a decently reasonable person who was always wiling to hear him out. however, there were multiple blue bubbles on your phone from texting him about his whereabouts and a diminishing amount of his texts responding; in fact, there was really no response at all. you valued the communication and comprehension that was, normally, found in your relationship. however, there was a complete lack of on the day that it mattered the most. you were simply a pawn in his game; you didn't know how much longer you could keep getting moved to different areas of his board without knowing when this game would be over.
it was now so far into the night that the waiters exchanged glances of pity at one another, ending up with your meal comped and a complementary lava cake in front of you. you realized you had said that he was running late for the past two hours. gazing at the melting ice cream placed on top of the moist delicacy in front of you, it mocked you with a certain hunger that you didn't know how to explain. simply gazing at it made you remember how it was supposed to be him that you were dining with.
it was supposed to be him who was holding open the door for you, not some random couple who booked the same reservation time as you. it was supposed to be him who was grabbing your hand from across the table as you both marveled at the complexity of the menu, not you simply ordering a martini to sip on while you waited for him to show up. it was supposed to be him who paid for dinner, not the employees who gave you pity smiles and reassuring gestures of, "i'm sure he'll be here soon."
a scowl of disdain ended up plastered on your features like a mural to an empty wall. furrowed eyebrows, pursed lips, and resentful eyes made its way to your facial expression, which you understood was what caused all the waiters to comp your meal; not out of gratuity, but out of sorrow and compassion. you also understood that the waiters shouldn't have had to comp your meal, if your boyfriend was simply there.
he finally arrived in the lounge as they were about to close at around 11 o'clock at night; you had been waiting there for about three hours. bruises riddled his face, a more prominent one forming on the bridge of his nose. you were too upset to care. not one single text, nor one call, and instead, a pity meal given by those around you. a cyclone had formed, rushing winds and emotions being swirled around the two of you regarding the tension within the air between you. there was not a single word spoken, yet an understanding that you were both going to leave.
as you walked to the parking lot, he attempted to put his arm around your shoulder as if nothing happened; as if he didn't leave you to fend for yourself on the one day that you shouldn't have had to. so, you threw his arm off you, causing an audacious scoff coming from his mouth. the car ride was silent after that.
opening the door, your heels slammed on the floor with a slight stomp echoing with every step. you unlocked the door for yourself, closing it behind you with a loud bang of intensity radiating off of your emotions. you were incredibly pissed and you wanted him to know that.
--
the next day, you still avoided hamzah like he had the plague and was going to spread it to you with every word spoken. you slept on opposite sides of the bed, an invisible barrier being set between the both of you. you ate breakfast together in silence, only after he decided to sit with you on the island. you sat on opposite ends of the couch as you continued the series you started together before he decided to be a complete jackass, only after he joined you on the couch.
it was only throughout the series that he realized he fucked up incredibly and you realized that it's been almost a full day without a single apology. so, he shifted uncomfortable in his seat, sighing heavily as his eyes made it to you.
hamzah could lie and say that he absolutely hated that you were mad at him with no amount of leniency regarding your behavior; he could lie and say that the anger and passion in your face didn't turn him on. he knew it was bad, however, it was like something primal awakened in him. he didn't like you mad, obviously; more importantly, he didn't want you to leave him. however, hamzah believed that you were incredibly hot with that certain scowl on your face. he was at an ultimatum; keep you upset and angry at him so he could admire you even more than he already does, or apologize so that he could stop being a complete asshole.
he chose the latter, attempting to ease his way into an apology.
"i lost yesterday."
you were quick with a rebuttal, "serves you right."
"i didn't show up because i was with some friends," he awkwardly rubbed his neck, "they offered me a drink and i stayed at their house for a little."
"that's so, so great, hamzah. what do you want, a fucking medal? a medal that says 'best boyfriend ever?'" you laughed sarcastically.
"i'm trying to apologize-"
"and i'm yet to hear the word 'sorry' exit your mouth."
his voice raised out of frustration, "because you aren't letting me fucking speak!"
"great, that's just- that's fucking great. not only do you ditch me on fucking valentines day, but now you're damn near cussing me out and yelling at me."
"oh my fucking god- i'm sorry, okay?"
"so sincere!" you exclaimed in sarcasm as you stood up from the couch, "that was the best apology ever! the only apology to ever fucking exist, actually! you might as well be a world-renowned fucking apologist, hamzah!"
you made your way to the kitchen, pouring grapes into a bowl for you to munch on as your boyfriend tried, and failed, to apologize. he followed you, still frustrated from your well-deserved attitude.
"look, i get it- i should've been there yesterday."
"they comped my fucking meal- do you know how bad they felt for me to the point where my meal was free?" you yelled, "3 hours- 3 fucking hours, jackass! i was there for 3 hours just sipping on straight vodka wondering where my fucking boyfriend was! now i'm finding out that he was with his friends instead of his girlfriend because- actually, there is no because. you're just an asshole for leaving me there like that.
he attempted to diffuse your anger by putting his hand on your shoulder, "hey-"
"not only that, but you lost your fucking match yesterday too. you fucked up with your girlfriend and also lost your damn match. how do you fuck up twice?"
you realized that was uncalled for the second it left your mouth. the expression in his face was no longer frustrated; this was pure, undeniable anger. he got closer to you, causing your eyes to look upwards towards him; the height difference caused the intimidation to rise between the both of you. yet, you weren't going to back down. he was the one who messed things up between you and, while you probably shouldn't have brought up his match, he did deserve it. there was a moment of silence between the two of you with your eye contact making all the conversation needed for a couple of seconds.
he stared at you with testing eyes, "what'd you just say?"
you made a noise between a laugh and a scoff, "i said that you fucked up twice."
his hand made its way to your neck, softly slamming you into the wall behind you. your hands made its way to grab at the hand choking you by the neck; not trying to take it off of you, but simply holding it in place. you took a sharp inhale as a smirk landed on your face, taunting him the way that the loneliness in that restaurant taunted you.
"enough with the fucking attitude."
"or what?"
he realized that you were enjoying the show that he was playing for you; he was simply a puppet in your theater. this was amusing to you; his hand around your neck was the piece de resistance of this play. you wanted to know what would happen next; in fact, you were hungry for the climax.
he laughed angrily, "oh, i get it."
"what do you get?" you acted clueless.
"you wanted this."
you scoffed, "don't get too caught up in your ego."
"what? you want me to apologize, baby? you want me to make it up to you?" his hand on your neck became tighter.
you gasped, "frankly, i don't give a shit about what you do."
suddenly, a sting emerged onto your cheek. hamzah slapped you with his hand, as he choked you with his other. your head was turned to the side, until the hand he slapped you with made it back to your face. he turned you so that you were now looking at him with your head towards his own. he gently caressed the area with the burning sensation. even in his rough moments, you're still his princess.
"you got a fuck ton of attitude for someone whose neck is in my hand," he got closer to your ear and began to speak quieter, "you're so fucking tiny, you know that? compared to me, you're so small. your neck fits in one of my hands- both of your hands fit in one of my hands. i could ruin you if i wanted to."
"except you won't."
he laughed once again, "you sure about that?"
"i'd like to see you try-"
and with that sentence, hamzah's lips were rammed into yours. this kiss was full of hunger and remorse. the two of you couldn't get enough of how the kiss was altered by how angry and sexually pent up the both of you were. the dinner yesterday was undoubtably going to end up in drunk and high sex, but this is different. this was sober and needy. this was feverish and hazy. this was better.
he manhandled you, carrying you as you straddled his waist with your thighs. laying you down on the bed, he began to take off the entirety of your clothes in swift and rough movements. getting to your underwear, he physically ripped it off of you with how rough he was being.
"hamzah!"
"i'll buy you three new ones."
he was left in his underwear by the time that his sentence was finished. taking off his boxers, his body moved on top of you in missionary and he aligned himself with the wetness of the area between your legs. he didn't give you much time to adjust as he slammed into you over and over again. he was never rough like this before. moans and your names were exclaimed from both of your sides; you were always a noise girl, so you finished quite quickly. embarrassingly quickly.
you expected hamzah to stop as he normally does; whenever you finish first, you normally let him finish by sucking him off or using your hands. however, his pace didn't stop; in fact, it quickened with the speed of a metronome on its highest setting.
he was overstimulating you, causing your hands to move on their own. you attempted to push him away, being met with being choked by him and slapped once more.
"h-hamzah-"
"you fucking asked for this."
though to an outsiders point of view, this was odd; to you, this was heaven without the process of dying. you previously asked hamzah to be more aggressive during sex; he knew that you were a masochist, yet he was always too scared to hurt you because he simply isn't that kind of guy. the realization of why he was being so rough was sweet. it was obvious to you that he felt bad for leaving you on valentines, and this was his unofficial way of apologizing. by making you feel the best you've ever felt, it made you more incentivized to forgive him for his mistakes.
he finished shortly after you, pulling out and laying down on top of you. the covers were over the both of you as you both laid there: sweaty, out of breath, and fucked out.
"did- did i do okay?" he asked, his anger and frustration now being masked with shyness and timidity.
"you did great, baby."
"i'm sorry. i didn't mean to leave you yesterday- i was just upset and i didn't want you to see me like that, especially not in public. i should've texted or just toughened up."
"hamzah, just talk to me. i would've understood."
"but it was valentines day-"
"yea, it was, but i would've been fine just being with you. we didn't have to go out or anything."
"i was being a dick. you don't deserve that. i'm sorry, pretty."
you kissed him with a kiss that foiled the previous one, one that was more gentle, "it's okay. you can make it up to me another time."
he kissed you on the cheek, gazing at you from below, "be my valentine on unofficial valentines day tomorrow?"
"of course."
--
authors note!
guys i am SORRY i lied to u like terribly horribly sorry but happy late valentines day U WERE ALL MY VALENTINES SO NONE OF U WERE ALONE ON VALENTINES BECAUSE I WAS HERE ok i love u guys bye
guys i'm lowk crashing out over valentine's day because im #lonelyasshit so i might need to delay the fic another day 😭😭 i promise it is here i just have to finish the ending
for making u guys wait i'll post both ghostface and boxer hamzah fics on the same day
if u find my page weird u can block me lol i don't mind
in the nicest way possible, nobody is forcing anyone to read my content and if hamzah speaks out about feeling uncomfortable about fanfiction, i would definitely stop and take my page down.
thank you to those who support me i appreciate it a lot <3 and for those who don't, that's alright. block me and be done with it :p