#my brain just saw this term and went “??????” | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

empresskylo · 1 year

Note

Hi！I really like ur story.And I was wandering if u could write about konig or ghost being jealous 🫂

my call of duty masterlist

reader referred to as a girl, called feminine terms, and afab.

Ghost

♡ ghost is an aggressive jealous. especially once you've been together for a while and he gets really attached. its definitely romantic but sometimes can drive you mad.

♡ one time, you and the rest of 141 were out at a bar, taking a load off after an intense mission. you went off to the bar to grab drinks for everyone and of course, ghost kept his eyes locked on you the entire time. as you stood there waiting, you rocked back and forth on your feet. a somewhat attractive man approached you and started up a polite conversation. the man didn't even have any ill intentions, he simply saw a pretty girl at a bar and decided to try and flirt... it's literally the whole point of bars. ghost watched with clenched fists, ready to storm over there and drag you back to their table, but soap convinced him to calm down. you were allowed to talk to other people. he hated the way you were laughing at whatever the prick was saying to you. you must have said something hilarious because the man laughed, reaching out and placing his hand on your shoulder. you immediately felt your gut sink, knowing what was about to happen. "might want to remove your hand before i decide to break your wrist." it was ghost, looming behind you. the man quickly retracted his hand, holding it up in defense. you turned to face the giant brute, "simon, he was just being nice," you whispered to him. "s'not nice to touch ladies without their consent," he growled, his eyes still locked on the poor man behind you who should have ran out the door by now if he had any brains. your eyes darted sidelong to soap, silently pleading for his help. within seconds, johnny was grabbing the man behind you and edging him out of the bar, telling him it was for his own good. you blocked simon's way, grabbing his sleeve and pulling, making him look down at you finally. "please, simon," you said breathlessly. "can we not ruin this night?" his face softened, his big hand coming up to caress your cheek, his thumb stroking you. "m'sorry," he said before placing a kiss on the top of your head. safe to say, he was glued to your side the rest of the night.

♡ ghost had gotten jealous of your relationship with the other members of 141, though this was more towards the beginning of your relationship, when he still didn't trust the guys with you--but now, of course, he trusts them with your life.

♡ ghost wasn't keen on the nicknames the guys would call you. but sometimes, he didn't really have much of a choice. when price would call you "doll", he would just silently glare at him. soap liked to call you "lass," and while that wasn't anything out of pocket, it still infuriated ghost. gaz sometimes called you "love," which drove ghost mad. you had to remind him that these were just terms of endearment because the guys cared about you, not because they were interested in you. he still didn't like it. and even months later, when he learned to trust them with you, he would still clench his jaw and fist whenever someone referred to you by anything but your name.

♡ he would even get jealous before you were together. one time he had overheard johnny inviting you out. he was in fact inviting you out to join him and the rest of the crew (including ghost), but ghost didn't hear that part. later that day, he slammed johnny against a wall, his forearm crushing him with such force even soap was surprised. "words, ghost. use your words," soap choked out, trying to shove the taller man off of him. "the hell you think you're doin?" he reluctantly released him from his hold. "what the bloody fuck are you talkin' about?" "invitin' her out?" he managed through gritted teeth. soap couldn't help the smirk that played along his lips. "whats it to ya?" ghost moved to step closer to him, his fists clenched. soap raised a hand in defeat. "bloody hell, mate. i was invitin' the lass to come out with all of us." ghost awkwardly shifted his stance, making soap crack a grin. a plethora of snarky comments rose in soaps throat, but ghost stopped them before they could come into reality. "not a fuckin' word about this, johnny, or I swear to god."

𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐎𝐖

♡ ghost was occasionally known to fuck the jealousy out of his system. (im sorry, but this idea is just so hot to me…)

♡ simon was not happy when he found out you had a "work husband." and i feel like thats a pretty fair thing to get upset over. “No, no, simon! He’s married! It just means we bicker and act like an old married couple at work. It has nothing to do with actually liking each other,” you pleaded. That didn’t really help your case. Like at all. It was a silent car ride all the way home. And once you got inside, simon had you pinned against the door, your hands trapped beneath his over your head. You let out a sharp gasp. “Ever imagine him while you’re fucking me?” his voice was low and scary, his lips coming down to tease your neck. You knew he was just trying to get himself worked up. “No! God, no, Simon. I would never–” he rolled his hips against you, cutting your sentence short. He nipped the skin along your neck making you hiss. He dragged you to the bedroom, tearing your clothes off, not being gentle at all. He didn’t have the patience to be. “Bet he wonders what color underwear you got on,” he mumbled more to himself than you. His fingers hooked along the band of your panties, teasing you. “Too bad for him, he’ll never know.” you gasped when simon abruptly shoved two fingers inside of you with no warning. He smirked. “And he’ll never know what kind of sounds you make.” he climbed up between your legs, intensely watching your face as his fingers pumped inside of you. “Only i get that honor, don’t i, pet?” You’d be lying if you said this side of simon didn’t turn you on. Your mind was already blanking as you panted, simon’s magical fingers working wonders. He stopped moving. “Dont i?” he asked again with more aggression this time. “Yes. only you!” you whined, bucking your hips up into his hand. Normally simon would chuckle, admiring how desperate you were for him. But right now, all he felt was jealous rage. Simon settled himself above you, his pants shedded. He peeled your panties off, licking his lips as he did. “Gonna fuck you so good so that prick never crosses your mind.” “He already doesn’t cross my mind, sim–oh fuck!” simon thrusted inside you, cutting off your rambling. He wasn’t gentle as he began to rock against you. “Say my name, love,” he demanded. “Oh god, Simon,” you babbled, already cockdrunk. “That’s right, baby. I own this pussy, don’t i?” You nodded your head hurriedly, your nails digging into his back. As much as simon’s jealousy drove you crazy, you fucking loved moments like this. Simon pounded into you, relentless as he claimed you, coming inside you just to prove to himself how you were his. And only his.

König

♡ konig my sweet gentle giant. I do think he’s a bit insecure so when he gets jealous it more so makes him sad rather than mad. (i hate to paint him like a helpless, sappy baby, but i cant help it im so sorry.)

♡ “konig, what’s wrong?” you’d ask him, seeing him act more reserved than usual. You stood between his legs as he sat on a barstool. He was always shy in public, especially when you all went out to the bar, but he was acting it more so than usual. “nothin’ , liebling.” he takes a strand of your hair and twirls it in his fingers. “Konig,” you plead, clearly seeing something is bothering him. His eyes drift, unable to look at you when he speaks. “Jus’ didn’t like seein’ you talk to that guy at the bar.” Your face would heat up, upset that you might have hurt him, but also warming at the idea of konig being jealous. You rested your hands on the tops of his thighs, pushing yourself up so you were inline with his lips. “He’s not my type.” “Yeah?” “Yeah. he’s no where near tall enough.” konig’s ears pinked. “And he doesn’t call me liebling in that god damn accent.” you’ve managed to turn konig into a blushing mess. Even if you’ve been together for awhile, whenever you compliment him, he gets all bashful.

♡ he’ll do simple things when he’s jealous. Like if he starts to get annoyed that some guy is acting a little too touchy or comfortable around you, he’ll come up behind you and wrap his arms around your chest. He would literally engulf you. Just that simple action would send any smart man running as he loomed over you and stared them down.

♡ he is also not one to be into PDA, however, that is not the case when he’s jealous. Especially at base, with so many deprived men around, he tends to get overly protective of you. Whenever he spots you talking to someone that’s not him, he’ll come up to you, give you a kiss even if you’re in the middle of talking, and walk away. You always get flustered when he does that, but it gets the message across that you’re his. No one would dare mess with something that belonged to konig.

♡ there is a man on the team that takes interest in you, likely not knowing that you and konig are together. He begins to help you train. Eats lunch with you. Saves you a seat at meetings. And you think he’s just being friendly. You’re actually happy you made a friend. So it throws you off when konig confronts you about it. “I don’t like you spending so much time with that guy.” “What? Why?” you turn in his embrace to face him. “He’s clearly into you, liebling.” “Huh? No he’s not! We’re just friends.” you say, your mind going over your every interaction now that konig brought this up. “You’re naive if you think he just wants to be your friend.” he says it in such a soft way that you’re not even upset at him calling you naive. He’s clearly just concerned. You shake your head, not wanting to believe what konig is saying. “Have you even told him about me?” “Yes! I’ve definitely brought you up.” “But did you mention we were together?” You bit the inside of your cheek. “No… I guess I never specified.” you realized that konig was probably right. You had no idea you were leading this guy on because you genieuly thought he was just being friendly. “Oh, shit. Konig. I’m so sorry,” you said clearly upset now. Konig cupped the back of your head and pulled you into his chest, placing a kiss on the top of your head. You felt a chuckle rumble through his chest. “Don’t apolgize. You haven’t done anything wrong.” “I’ll make sure he knows i’m with you next time i see him,” you mumbled into his shirt. Konig spotted the man walk into the room you and konig were currently huddling in. perfect timing. “or…” he said, making you tilt your head to look up at him, arching a brow. The man looked over and spotted the two of you, so Konig bent down, lifting his mask so only you could see, and kissed you. It was more than a peck. He pulled you into him, his hands wandering down to your waist. When you pulled away breathless, konig smirked. “I think he got the message.”

♡ he often got jealous when others would gawk at you when you weren’t looking. There had been plenty of times where you were working out and konig watched as other man checked you out. He could feel his fists clench, trying to prevent himself from getting upset. It wasn’t your fault. And he wasn’t about to make you cover up just because men liked to be creepy.

♡ it isn’t until after one workout that you see konig huffing on the bench. “Bad workout?” you asked him, sitting across his thigh. His hands immediately went to your waist. “Jus’ sick of those guys oogling over you,” he muttered. You looked over to see the group of men konig was talking about. You were sporting a tight sports bra and tight spandex shorts, showing more than you usually would. “Let em’ look,” you replied. Konig looked at you, his frown deepening. “They can see me like this all they want. But only you can see me naked,” you whispered in his ear. Konig’s hands tightened on your waist, his pupils dilating as he stared at you. “Don’t start something you can’t finish, liebling.” his voice was darker now. Not with jealousy, but with lust. “Oh, I don’t plan on it,” you said, reaching down and palming him through his shorts. Konig immediately shot up, making you land on your feet, but his hands still firmly gripping you. “Your room. Now,” he demanded. He always got nervous when you spoke to him like that in public. But this was the first time you touched him in public. And konig was throbbing in his shorts, wanting you so desperately he already forgot about the other men.

𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐎𝐖

♡ after a night out with the gang, partying and drinking, you and konig found yourselves back at your hotel room. You had no idea he had been jealous all night long until he scooped you up as you entered your hotel room and tossed you on the bed. He had to watch as you danced and let loose, enjoying yourself, while the men around you watched you just as intently as konig was. Every time you bent over, he had to stop himself from punching every man in your vicinity. “Konig,” you said breathlessly. He loomed over you, grabbing the hem of your dress and pushing it up your thighs until it bunched around your waist. “You’re mine,” he growled. You were slightly shocked at his sudden change in demeanor, not as used to this side of konig, but not hating it either. You nodded your head as konig pulled your panties down. You were already so wet for him. It made him smile. He quickly connected his mouth to your throbbing core, his tongue devouring you. Your hands slid into his hair on reflex, your head falling back, silently mouthing his name. “I want everyone in the fucking hotel to hear you scream my name,” he grunted against you. Your eyes widened, looking down at the man buried between your thighs. His hands gripped your ass and pulled you closer to him, making you yelp. “Every. Single. Person.” You quickly nodded, calling his name out as he began sucking on your clit. His tongue teased your entrance, his cock throbbing as he listened to your pants. “Mine,” he said against your cunt, making you moan. “All fucking mine.”

4K notes · View notes

tarjapearce · 2 months

Text

Miguel's Pick up Lines

Just fluff and nerd talk✨

Flirting wasn't something he was good for, it wasn't etched in his dna. His pasts attempts in your early stage of relationship always ended up as awkward or in a laughing fit your way.

But far from making you uncomfortable, it always ended up in you kissing the daylights our of him, appreciating his effort to keep the spark alive.

Miguel wouldn't admit it, but he was practicing his own rizz. A term he internally chuckled every time Gabriella mentioned it.

He wanted to surprise you with his art de la séduction, cause in truth he missed your flustered expression. He needed to see that sweet and lovely face of yours going through so many emotions again.

It was one of those days he'd be stuck in the lab, mentoring the new employees in their induction to Alchemax's Research Department.

In his break, he took his phone and walked to a more private area to then video calling you.

It took the connection to stablish after a couple of rings, your face appearing in the lower corner of the screen with sweet smile and a couple of flour blotches on your face. Rosie on your hip.

"Say hi to Papa, Rosie."

Rosie blabbed while agitating the spoon

"She's gonna be a good chef." you smiled ad you wiped the flour off, "Everything alright, mi amor?"

"Yeah. I'm nearly done with the induction. Can't wait to go home."

He could hear Benjamin's excited squeals as he watched the TV and Gabriella helped with food in the opposite shelf.

"I made some horchata, Gabibi's helping me here."

"I learned how to make tortillas, Papa!"

Gabi's enthusiasm brought a smile on his face

"Save me some, Solecito."

You then moved to place Rosie on her floor playground. Then went to the bathroom and closed the door.

"What are you doing?" His eyes narrowed as you smirked and pulled out the silky elastic band of your bra. Eyes widened while his tongue swept over his plump lips

"Got a surprise for you, Papa. Can't wait for you to come home."

"Too bad you're not in my lab."

"Why? Wanna show me a theory, Dr. O'Hara?" you smirked and he followed

"Would prove my Big Bang into you."

A flush crept your cheeks as your eyes widened softly at the sudden comeback, not really expecting such comment.

His chest constricted with pride on your current state.

"I think I often forget I married a hot nerd."

"I'll remind you when I get home." He chuckled when you squealed internally.

"Can't wait. See you later, Dr. O'Hara." You blew him a kiss and returned to finishing meal prepping.

You had finished your indoor workout, sweat etched to your flushed skin. Miguel leaned against the door frame, an arm raised above him.

"Did you know that high intensity workouts increases your endorphin release but it's actually the cardiovascular exercises that gives you the major boost?"

"Oh really?"

He nodded while approaching and taking a hold of your waist. Gaze raking over your sweaty look. Your pheromones tickling his nose and brain.

"Yeah" He nuzzled your neck and you squealed in between giggles while he kissed your jaw

"Don't! Let me go shower first!."

He shook his head.

"We gotta do some cardio first, mi reina. Wanna have you extra happy today"

He threw you over his shoulder and walked back to the master bedroom.

And as good as some days passed, the bad ones were always in the lurk, waiting for you to fall into their claws to not let you go until tears rolled down your cheeks.

And after thirteen years of marriage it was impossible for Miguel to not know and recognize the signs of a bad day.

You'd barely talk, and if you did, it was usually short and monosyllabic replies. You'd go into a cleaning spree, walk around the neighborhood to try and ease your mind.

He stepped in when he saw the inner corner of your lids turn red, eyes bloodshot and a quivering lip as you tried to ease a fussy and wailing Rosie. Miguel pried Rosie from your hands carefully and rubbed her back in soothing circles, to then kiss the top of your forehead.

"I'll take it from here, mi reina. Go rest up."

His heart wrenched upon seeing you sniffing and rubbing your eyes while you went up the stairs.

Miguel arrived an hour later with a tray of freshly made food, a steaming cup of hot cocoa and some tissues.

"Do you want me to keep you company?"

You nodded, teary eyed. He sat next to you and put the tray on your thighs.

"Wanna share what's up there?"

He kissed the side of your head again and begun feeding you.

"I don't know how to explain it. It's weird. All I know is that I feel exhausted and sad. I feel so useless."

"Useless?" he frowned as he fed you another spoonful to then wipe your mouth, "Decaffeinated coffee is useless. A cordless jump rope is useless."

That made you chuckle and he smiled to give you another bite of food.

"I could list a shit ton of things that are useless, but you? No, mi amor. You're the main pillar of this family. Without you everything collapses within. Like a black hole."

His arm went around your shoulders and kissed your head softly.

"But you ain't a black hole, preciosa. Like... You're so complex, beautiful and amazing. No wonder why the universe copies you and tries to demand our attention with stars and stuff."

He smiled upon your reaction.

"I love you, okay?" He finished feeding you to then massage your feet and shoulders.

Miguel walked into your room after you were done feeding Rosie and putting her into her crib.

He removed the bedsheets out of you to replace them with his frame, sprawled ontop of you. His head resting ontop of your chest.

Your hands immediately caressed his hair, earning a lovely purr from him, melting under your touch

"You know? Your digits got me feeling a strong exponential attraction. Wanna multiply?"

Your brow quirked with a goof smile on his words as he tittered silently.

"Forget I said that."

His airy laugh got your shoulders shaking with the same amount of fun.

"I didn't understand a peep. I sucked at math, mi amor."

He took your hand and kissed the inside of your wrist.

"But... I understood the last part though."

His head snapped immediately to you and smirked.

"Rosie is asleep" you scolded between hushed laughs as he swallowed you in his arms and pecked your lips repeatedly as you giggled and squealed softly

"Let's decrease the space between our organelles, shall we?"

#t writes✨#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #soccer family ⚽🕷️#miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #mama o'hara #miguel ohara fluff #miguel ohara fanfiction

569 notes · View notes

diaryofanidiot · 10 months

Text

The Experiments

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader

Chapter list: Prologue, <1>, 2, 3, 4, 5

Cw: Swearing; torture; blood; medical experiments; panic attacks; malnourishment

Summary: For over a year, Y/N was held in a soviet experimentation facility. Forced to fight and claw her way to live, she managed to stay alive. When the 141 rescues her, they get way more intel than bargained for.

Chapter One

"What the bloody fuck is this..." A gruff voice spoke. I slowly looked up with wide eyes and nearly shat myself at the sight.

A giant behemoth of a man in a skull mask stood still, his body language relaxed but on guard as he stared in my direction.

His boots clunked heavily on the floor as he approached me, his gun still held at the ready but not pointed in my direction. I couldn't see his face, but his frown was apparent in his voice.

"Mactavish, I've found something... or someone, rather." He said, tuning in on his radio. I never once took my eyes off of him, unsure of if he was even real or not. Perhaps I had already died and this was the grim reaper to take me away...

"I don't understand, L.T." A staticky voice came through his radio.

"A woman. In a cage."

"Last I checked this wasn't a sex dungeon." The voice on the radio had a Scottish accent, dripping with amusement.

"Not joking." The British skull faced man said gruffly. "Finish clearing out the building. Then get to the rendezvous. I'll meet you there."

"Copy."

As he finished giving his orders, he knelt down next to the cage. "Who are you?" He demanded.

I scrambled back in the cage until the bars pressed against my bare back. I tried to speak, but my voice only came out in cracks after long-term misuse.

"Ah. Gotcha." He seemed to understand, or maybe he simply thought I was a mute. I saw his eyes flicker up toward the label on the cage.

"Subject 237: "Banshee"." He read aloud. "Stay where you are. I'm opening this blasted thing." He warned. "Try anything and you're dead."

I nodded slowly, desperate to let him know that I understood English. My eyes never left him as he shot the lock on the cage, despite my flinching at the sound.

"Out you go." He demanded, his gun still at the ready. My knees protested in pain as I crawled toward the entrance of my cramped confinement. I had almost forgotten about the chain and collar around my neck.

I could see his eyes widen slightly as I crawled into whatever light the room had offered; they darted around my scarred naked form as he observed me.

"Fuck did they do to you..." He mumbled below his breath.

The chains length only went so far for me to get an inch of room past the cage door. He knelt down in front of me. My traumatized brain flashing danger signs with every movement.

"I won't hurt you." He said in a low tone, one hand coming up to reassure me. "Not unless you try to hurt me. Just need to take this off..."

His hand darted toward the chain around my neck, causing me to flinch at the rapid movement. I could hear him curse underneath his mask as he realized a key was needed.

"Wait. Here." He ordered, standing back to full height before he went to raid the dead corpses in search of the key. He found it on the assistant's body with impressive speed before walking back over and swiftly removing the steel collar that kept me in place.

I hissed in pain once more as the cold damp air hit the sores on my neck, my hand going up to rub them instinctively. His hand was on my wrist now, stopping me from rubbing.

"We should get a doctor on that. Or on you in general..." His gun was lowered now, seeing as I had made no room to attack him. "Do you have a name?"

Once his hand was off my wrist, I pointed a shakey finger toward the label on the cage. He shook his head at this. "No, that's what they called you. I mean a real name." He insisted.

I frowned and looked to the ground. I had one. Over the course of a year, somehow, it had fled my memory. Nobody called me it anymore anyway. I turned my gaze back toward him with an apologetic look.

He sighed. "No matter. It'll come back to you. Let's get you out of here."

He swiftly walked over toward the scientist and removed the lab coat from the corpse.

"Put this on." He demanded, handing it to me. I complied. The fabric swallowed my malnourished body as I looked down, as if just now realized how gaunt my once healthy body had become.

He seemed to be looking at me expectantly. My legs tried to hold me up, screaming in agony as I stood slowly with atrophied muscles. I stumbled, my knees slamming against the linoleum tile. I cringed in pain as they did.

"Fuck." I heard him say before I was lifted and thrown over his shoulder. "Let's get you out of here." I watched as he seemed to notice a file on the table... my file. He snatched it up quickly and stored it away before the same voice I had heard earlier came in on the radio.

"L.T., you copy?"

He spoke into his radio with a sense of urgency. "Aye."

"I'm at the Rendezvous point now. The building's cleared, so you should have a clear path as long as there's no stragglers."

"You have my appreciation." If it were possible to hear a smirk, you could swear he wore one under the mask.

"Get here safely, and you'll have mine, Sir."

The radio went silent once more as I was carried out to the hall like a rag doll. Hell, I probably weighed less than one at this point. My eyes were wide as I saw all the death that littered the building.

Unable to push down the sick sense of satisfaction that came from seeing my tormentors dead on the ground, I managed the smallest hint of a smile. The first one I've worn in what seemed like forever.

The man on the radio was right. A path was completely cleared, seeing as my rescuer never once had to stop for any threats.

Until we exited the building, at least...

Gunshots were pouring out as my eyes adjusted to the rising sun, unaccustomed to the light. I felt my body thrown behind something as my rescuer took cover beside me, firing multiple shots.

Once my eyes adjusted, I blinked them open to see we were behind a set of barrels. I managed a small peak at our assailants before I was forced back behind the cover with an angry "stay."

I frowned as he continued making his shots before requesting backup. I guessed the soviets really didn't want him escaping this one with how many men were sent.

Opening my mouth to try to speak, my voice cracked and strained severely. "Ears..." I mustered. I saw his eyes flicker to me for half a second before refocusing on his targets.

"Ears." I tried again, miming for him to cover them.

"Noise reduction headphones, kid." He said gruffly. It was then I noticed that his ears were already covered.

I glanced back once more, placing a hand on his arm to prepare him slightly as I gathered all the strength I could.

I screamed. The supernatural-esque sound reached nearly two hundred decibles, equivalent to a large bomb. I heard glass shattering and the sounds of people crying out in pain. My throat was raw by the time I let my screaming fade to an end.

The enemy gunfire ceased, and even the man beside me looked temporally disoriented. He grunted as he got his bearings back and shot those writhing on the ground in pain. They weren't wearing ear protection, I noted, finally looking up from my spot behind the steel barrels. They must've been deployed in a hurry.

Once the waves of gunfire ceased, I heard a shuffling motion and a click beside me. My rescuers gun was now to my head.

I looked at him with wide, fearful eyes as he stared me down.

"What the fuck are you?" He demanded. I flinched, but the scream had left my throat too damaged to speak. I could only croak out a few sounds, none of them enough for form even a single word.

"Don't. Move." He demanded, pulling out the file he had snatched earlier from its space between his vest and his chest.

I watched him with unblinking eyes as he opened it. "Are you even human anymore?" He asked seemingly to himself as he scanned the front page of the file.

Something he read caught his eye before his gaze landed on my frightened expression once more. "Show me your teeth."

Hesitantly, I opened my mouth. The barrel of his gun moving to pull my lip back further. I could've sworn I stopped breathing as he revealed the pair of sharp fangs that had been surgically fastened to my canines. His eyes then lowered to my throat. Underneath the sores was a jagged surgical scar where they had altered my vocal chords.

I couldn't read his expression due to his mask, and his eyes said nothing.

"You scream like that again and I'll kill you." He stated matter-of-factly. He didn't seem to care that I just gave him a major advantage against his enemies. I watched him cancel the request for backup before I was thrown over his shoulder once more.

The Rendezvous wasn't far; he experienced no more hiccups in getting me there. I blinked as I observed the abandoned factory, the floor creaking with each of his heavy steps.

I felt my weak body stumble as I was set down on the floor. I winced in pain before a new set of footsteps approached.

"Good to see ya, Sir." The voice that once cracked through radio waves was now just in front of me. I looked up to put a face to a voice. This man wasn't masked, I managed to get a good look at his face.

"Sergeant." The tense tone in my rescuer's voice was gone now as he greeted the other. I listened in as he updated his teammate on the situation.

"Experiments?" His Scottish accent was thick with confusion. His attention turned to me as he knelt down to my place on the ground. He seemed to be observing me, a slight crease between his eyebrows as he did.

Not a trace of fear entered his eyes even once as he looked at me. "Call me Soap, lass."

I blinked at his friendliness, a stark contrast to the other man's battle hardened tone.

"That over there, That's Ghost. He's the one who got you out of there." Soap's hand went to his hip as he unlatched something from his vest and held it out to me. "You'll probably be wanting this."

It took a minute for me to realize what was in his hands but once it clicked, I snatched the canteen quickly and fumbled it open. I heard him chuckle as I drank greedily, the room temperature water doing wonders for my dry throat.

"Slow your roll and don't drown yourself." He lightly lectured as I pulled away in a coughing fit once my greed bit me in the ass by sending water down the wrong pipe.

I watched him turn to Ghost, a quizzical look in his eyes. "She doesn't appear dangerous."

"Appearances can decieve." Was Ghost's response. "Show him your teeth."

I cringed at having to go through this again before I bared my fangs hesitantly. "She was heavily altered. I'm assuming they were creating human weapons."

"That all?" Soap scoffed, seemingly not intimidated. Ghost shook his head.

"They called her Banshee. Her vocal cords are altered as well. I watched her practically burst the eardrums of five enemy soldiers. Hell, nearly had my own eardrums bleeding."

Soap nodded and took the canteen back as I handed it to him. "She's so scrawny. How long have you been there?" He asked me.

Ghost placed a hand on his shoulder. "Her voice is fried. Gonna have to get back to the compound and have a more thorough look at her file. Where are the others?"

Soap stood to his full height. "Gaz and Price are clearing out another facility nearby. They should be here soon."

A new voice called out, turning the heads of all three of us.

"Soon? Try now."

The two strangers, we'll at least strangers to me, walked up. The older man looked at me with an expression I couldn't quite identify before speaking.

"Ghost.... fill us in."

-----------------------------------

Typos? In my fanfic? Liar. (Pls point them out to me as we don't do roughdrafts in this household. We die like Roach here 🫡)

A/N: thank you all for the love this got from just the Prologue alone <3 sorry if anything feels off. I'm a secondhand fan and never touched the games lol.

Taglist: @warenai @linoskitten11 @jamesrifftapes

#cod mwii #cod mw2 #call of duty #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #task force 141 #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #captain john price

1K notes · View notes

sundrop-writes · 3 months

Note

if ur taking requests then how about female reader being a bau member and is receiving unwanted attention from the local cops but she cant pick up on social cues very well so it’s extra stressful for her to naviagte

Then enter protective and somewhat jealous jj that tries to protect her and shows her what true love and respect is with soft softdom!jj

I really like this, but I like the idea of it more as a short then a full fic, so... here we go.

JJ Being Protective of You - (Jennifer Jareau x Fem!Autistic!Reader)

Warnings: some harassing behaviour from a random male cop towards the reader; the man uses condescending pet names toward the reader; JJ goes full boss mode; use of the term L/N (as in 'Last Name') to refer to the reader; she reader uses she/her pronouns; the reader experiences a small accidental injury; pre-established relationship. Idk what else. Not proofread.

Paperwork. This is where you thrived. Much like Spencer, you loved a good paper trail.

You were currently in the back room of the police station, going through their old case files, looking at every case from the last forty years that had yet to be digitised. You were looking for previous murders that matched the signature of the killer the team was currently after, since the working theory was that the UnSub had 'taken on' the work of his father or another older figure in his life.

So you had to dig through all the files of unsolved murders and see if you could find a pattern stemming back - to see if you could find more killings that this father might have committed.

It was stuffy and dusty in the file room, but you were finding it to be the kind of work that you did best - your brain churning on all cylinders as you looked through the many files for all the markers in the killings that would have aligned with his killer. You put some files aside and closed the lid on a box, and then moved to a new stack, going to take down a box from 1973 - it was rather heavy and awkward to lift, but you could manage it.

"Oh, little lady, let me help you with that,"

Suddenly, someone appeared beside you, as if out of nowhere, and a second pair of hands began tugging on the box.

"I got it." You grunted out, tugging the box back in your direction, trying to get a better grip on it.

"Trust me, doll, someone like you shouldn't be lugging this crap around on your own." The man's voice argued, becoming slightly strained - angry?

Was he frustrated because it was too heavy for him to lift? Did he feel like he had to help because you looked weak and he was frustrated because of the social obligation?

"It's fine." You assured him, tugging on it again. But - he still wouldn't let go. "I'm stronger than I look, trust me."

That was something that Emily and Derek often joked about. You had used a shovel to break a double welded chain in order to get into a basement when a child was in danger. The police had been arguing about getting a warrant and talking about how they would need heavy duty bolt cutters to get through the chain away, and you were down there in minutes - and from then on, the team all agreed not to mess with you. Especially not in an emergency.

"Sweetie, just let go of it-"

His grip slipped off the box, and it went flying in the opposite direction then, and one of the sharp corners smacked you on the head - a piercing pain went through your whole forehead and and papers came flying out of the box, spilling across the floor and fluttering everywhere.

"Oh my god, ow!" You exclaimed loudly, stepping backward, raising a hand to your forehead toward the throbbing pain. You were alarmed when you felt wetness, and you quickly drew your fingers back and saw blood.

"Oh, goodness. I'm sorry, darlin'." The man appeared in front of you, and soon, completely unprompted, he put his hands on both of your cheeks, trying to lift your head to better inspect the cut. "See, that's why you shouldn't-"

"Don't touch me!" You screamed, reaching up inside of his forearms to shove his hands off you. Your skin was crawling with a terrible, icky itch where his hands had been touching you.

He became slack-jawed with shock at this.

"There's no need to shout." He chuckled. "Calm down."

"Ugh, no!" You shouted back.

You were suddenly feeling terribly trapped in the small, stuffy, dusty room, and though you knew that the papers needed to be cleaned up and you needed to finish your fishing expedition for the trail of murders - you had to leave. You needed air.

You needed JJ.

You shoved past the man and your feet carried you as fast as you could go, frantically looking for that head of blonde hair.

"Listen, babydoll, just calm down-"

"Woah, woah, her name is not babydoll."

That voice. Your hero.

You blinked past a haze if tears you hadn't even noticed was forming, and saw the pale blue shirt and blonde hair that you knew was her - you ran to stand behind her, grabbing her hand tightly, which she gripped back, grounding you, letting you know that she was right there.

"I'm not sure what kind of slack operation you people run around here, but we are professionals. You are going to refer to her by her full title, Special Agent L/N - or you won't talk to her at all. You won't even look at her. Do you understand me?" JJ barked at him.

The pure authority dripping from her voice made you feel so utterly safe.

"Listen, m'am, I'm not sure-"

"It's not 'm'am', it's Agent." JJ corrected him, now straining through her teeth, absolutely seething. "We are here representing the FBI, trying to catch a very dangerous man to help keep your town safe. We're not just little secretaries skittering around to get you your coffee and clean up after you. Just because we're women, we're not here to wipe your ass!"

You heard a chuckle from behind you, and you thought it was Emily's voice. This was followed by a low whistle - probably Derek.

"Is that clear?" JJ finished off, daring the man to talk back to her.

The man sighed and turned around to leave, finally defeated. This is when JJ turned to you.

"Are you okay?" She asked, her voice much softer now. "Oh my god, what happened to your head?"

"There was... a box..." You mumbled quietly, still feeling shaken up.

"He hit you with a box?" JJ snapped, looking back in the direction he had walked off.

"JJ, please." You begged, quietly, squeezing her hand, directing her attention back to you.

She knew what her priority was right now.

"Come on,"

JJ walked you to the bathroom, and as she was cleaning up the cut with a damp paper towel, she was still huffing hard through her nose, the anger still pumping through her.

"I'm going to find that guy's supervisor, I'm going to put in a report about him, I'm going to-"

"It's okay, JJ." You said, reaching out to run a gentle hand along her lower back. "I'm pretty sure he's not gonna come near me again after what you said."

She let out a snort of laughter, and half her mouth upturned in a smile. You both knew that she could be incredibly intimidating despite her looks, and she always protected you - just one of the many things that had attracted you to her in the first place.

"Yeah, well... nobody comes near my girl and gets away with it."

#sundrop writes #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #jennifer jareau #autistic reader #jennifer jareau x reader #jj x reader #jennifer jareau x you

442 notes · View notes

ssweetleaf · 5 months

Text

million dollar man.

summary: you’re sick of seeing people talk down to robert, so you show him just how much you respect him.

robert fischer x afab!reader

includes: SMUT, rob’s asshole dad, kinda subby!daddy rob though there’s no daddy kink in this one, oral (male receiving), unprotected p in v, cream pie, breeding kink, semi-public sex, a really terrible ending because that’s all i’m good at

✩

“You ready, honey?”

The foyer sparkled around you, big marble pillars and stupidly shiny chandeliers all gleamed at you, causing your eyes to squint and your mouth to open in awe.

Everywhere you looked there were people, all dressed up in their formal attire— cinched waists and satin gloves paired with crisp waistcoats and bow ties, old money, new money, it didn’t matter, as long as they had a good seven digits within their net worth they’d be considered a part of the festivities.

And that’s where you realised you didn’t quite belong in that room, with those people.

“Honey? You listenin’?”

You shook the fog from your brain, eyes flitting to him. Robert. Your Robbie, handsome as ever in his suit, tailored to fit him just right, his tie matching the dark wine colour that was your dress. The dress he had got you and left on your duvet as a surprise. You couldn’t begin to imagine how much it had cost him.

You smiled up at him, small and not quite reaching your eyes.

“Sorry, Robbie,” your eyes fluttered to the floor, “just nervous is all.”

He stepped closer to you, big palms raising to cradle your cheeks, squishing them slightly and running his thumbs along the soft skin.

“You look beautiful, baby,” he said, full of sincerity, his eyes so blue and glistening. “S’no need to be nervous, sweet girl.”

You nodded, all bashful now, leaning into his kiss when he pressed a chaste one to your lips.

Robert hooked his arm out for you to take, leading you inside the ballroom with high ceilings and waiters that held trays full of champagne. You took a mental note to snag one of those flutes whenever you had the chance, you needed a bit of liquid courage.

Being Robert Fischer’s arm candy meant staying at his side at all times, with an arm hooked round your waist or a palm to the small of your back, any little touch to tell anyone that ogled— you were his.

His girl.

“Robert, you’re late—” standing straight and proper was his father, peering at him in a look much akin to distaste, not bothering to give you so much as a glance.

You saw Rob’s jaw tick.

“I’d like you to meet Thomas, he’s shown to be quite useful in the business, I’m sure you could learn a thing or two…”

Straight to business. Straight to the insults. The same old same old, shaking hands and discussing terms and money that you hadn’t a clue about— Robert’s teeth were gritted, hand gripping your hip to sate and ground him.

“Lovely to see you as always, father,” he spoke, sarcasm swirling on his tongue, blue eyes swarming and darkening at the mere sight of his own flesh and blood.

The conversation went on for a while before Thomas piped up, gaze settling on your figure, roaming and ogling, staring for far too long at your tits.

“And who’s this?” He asked, eyes never leaving yours. You felt uncomfortable, shifting awkwardly and hugging yourself closer to Robert.

Rob’s brows furrowed, a possessive arm tightening around you further.

“This is my girl-” he looked down at you, fondness and so much adoration swirling in his irises, mouth quirking in a smile when you settled your own gaze upon his.

“It’s about time you settled down,” his father spoke out before Rob had time to utter your name, “but believe me, doll, run while you still can.”

You frowned.

“He’s useless, I tell you. Absolutely useless—”

“I think that’s quite enough.” You took hold of your lover’s hand, tugging him along, “if you’ll excuse us.”

Robert followed along like a lost puppy, letting you tug on his hand and guide him to the nearest available bathroom.

The sparkly green tile gleamed at you as soon as you walked through the door, pushing him through and clicking the lock shut.

“What’re you doing, honey,” he stuttered, swallowing thickly when you pushed him up against the counter, smoothing your palms along his lapels and down his chest.

“No one gets to speak to you like that.” You muttered, frowning, and he smoothed at the furrow between your brows with the pad of his thumb, smiling slightly.

“S’alright, baby,” he began, cutting himself off when he saw you shaking your head.

“No, it isn’t,” you spoke, firm and to the point, hands moving to cradle his jaw and cheeks, skin smooth and shaven, so pretty to look at. “do you hear me?”

He chuckled, pressing his hands to your hips, swaying you gently, attempting to soothe you.

“I hear ya, sweetheart—”

“Robert, I mean it.” You swiped at the skin underneath his eyes, palming his delicate skin and marvelling at how pretty he was. Oh, how vulnerable he could be when he was with you.

You stared at each other for a while, eyes flitting over every blemish and dimple, savouring the sight as if the world was coming to an end, shifting to a close.

You pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth, a chaste one, so soft it was barely there, leaning in close, your lashes fluttering against his cheek bone.

“Let me show you.” You muttered, pressing another kiss, a firmer one, to his lips now, then another, far more desperate. “Let me show you, Robbie.”

“Honey,” his chuckle was nervous, voice cracking and eyelids fluttering closed when your mouth mapped along the sharp line of his jaw. “honey, not here— n-not now.”

You pulled back, an over-exaggerated pout playing upon your lips before you leaned in, mouth pressed to his ear, tongue flicking against the shell when you uttered into it.

“Please, sir.”

He whimpered, broken and whiny, and you could feel him against your belly, already hard and throbbing when your breath fanned along his neck.

“Okay,” he sighed, almost dreamily, bucking his hips against you and holding onto you tight. “Alright, darling, you know I’ll do anything for you.”

He was breathless, seeing stars, sucking his lip between his teeth when you lowered yourself to kneel in front of him, hands smoothing along his thighs, the expensive material of his Italian suit glided along your palms, smooth and elegant before you found what you were looking for.

A bulge tightened his trousers, stretching the fabric, barely being able to contain the sheer size of his big cock, you were sure if you left him any longer a wet spot would form.

“Please, sweetheart,” he was the one saying please now, petting at your hair and smoothing down the tresses, chest heaving at your kneeling form, looking all pliant though he knew you were the one in charge.

You pulled at his belt, tugging it through the buckle, the leather squeaking when you grew impatient with it, wanting it off. Then you unbuttoned him, drawing down his fly, pushing them down along with the tight constriction of his boxer briefs, letting them pool at his ankles.

His cock sprang free, slapping against his stomach, a long pearlescent string of pre-cum sticking to his skin, mouth-wateringly so.

“So pretty,” you cooed, reaching up to take him in your hand, girthy and long, everything you’d ever need, your fingers barely being able to touch from the thickness. “Can’t believe you’re mine.”

“All yours, darling—” he whined, breathy and muscles tensing. “all for you.”

You hummed, leaning forward to kiss at his tip, stroking him with your fist, slow and sensual, grinning as his breath picked up.

You licked along the length of him, along that thick vein that throbbed hotly, sucking his balls into your mouth one after the other, leaving the stain of your lipstick along his flesh, before taking his cock down your throat, hearing him moan and whimper at the suddenness of it all.

“Oh, that’s it,” he whined, thumb smoothing along your cheek, “good girl, s-such a good, sweet girl.”

You hummed around him, swirling your tongue around him and trying to take him as deep as your throat would let you, gagging around his cock, tears slipping from your heaves.

Robert felt his chest swell, the sight before him so pretty, suckling at his cock, your tears glistening from the light of the bathroom’s chandelier, so lucky he could call you his. His girl.

The ring box in his suit pocket felt heavy when he stared at you.

You took him further down your throat, salty tears slipping down your cheeks, leaving your eyes all sparkly and glistening, gagging around his cock every now and again, the sharp tug that Robert inflicted upon your tresses a big indicator that he greatly enjoyed the constriction of your tight, warm little throat.

“Yes, that’s it, my sweet girl,” he whimpered, hips mindlessly bucking with each downward thrust of your mouth. “So good to me, take care of me so well.”

Hell, if anyone decided to walk past the door to the bathroom they were situated in, they’d get an earful— the crude sound of sloppy sucking and his airy whimpers resonated around the echoey room. Someone was bound to listen in.

You had half a hope that Thomas was outside the door, listening to the sheer pleasure you inflicted on your boy.

“Baby,” he stuttered, whining and pawing at your hair and cheeks, desperate and leaking onto your tongue. “Can I cum? Oh, please, darling, let me cum.”

You took your mouth off him, letting your hand take over, slowly stroking him into your fist, thumb flicking over his head, so sensitive, you thought.

You pouted up at him, somewhat mockingly.

“Don’t you wanna cum inside me, Robbie?” You stared at him, whatching him heave and buck, cheeks all flushed and forehead sweaty, such a pretty, pathetic sight. “Was looking forward to it all night.”

You continued your pouting, adding a little whine to your speech, watching him nod exuberantly and stroking your cheek with his shuddering palm.

“O-of course, baby— wanna cum inside you, just wanna please you.”

You smiled, pressed one last kiss to the flushed head of his tip before standing, moving to lean over the counter, back arched and ass in the air, swaying at him teasingly.

His palms smoothed over your backside, ruching the skirt of your dress to reveal your pretty panties, a pretty shade of pink, a wet spot saturating the fabric that covered your cunt.

He groaned, grabbing a handful of your hips, kneading the flesh between his fingers. He gazed at your reflection in the mirror, taking his bottom lip between his teeth when he saw your pretty tits spilling out of your bodice.

“What’re you waiting for, Robbie? Haven’t I been a good girl?”

He nodded, still so red in the face, leaning over you to press his face in the crook of your neck, kissing your skin; a form of an apology.

“Yes, dear, you’ve been such a good girl. Always deserve my cock, always.” He hummed, pulling back to tuck his fingers into the elastic of your underwear, pulling them to the side and exposing your glistening pussy, juices dripping down your thighs and clit throbbing hotly.

Rob huffed out a breath, cock jumping at the sight before him, before gripping himself at the base, gliding it along your slit and bumping the tip against your clit, tapping it lightly before repeating the process.

“Hurry,” you whined, pressing yourself closer against him, wiggling your hips, the movement causing the ridge of his cock to slip inside your hole.

He pushed all the way to the base, panting like a dog and gripping at your skin, etching finger-shaped bruises into your flesh.

“Feel so perfect.” He whimpered, feeling you clench, trying to adjust to his size, the thickness of his cock stretching you out impossibly— you felt as if he was in your throat.

It wasn’t long before you gave him the go ahead to move, the subtle sting of his size still apparent, though the jolts of pleasure completely overshadowed the discomfort.

You were squealing into your arm, moaning like a porn star with every thrust, squeezing him and hitting your ass back in time with the buck of his hips.

“S-so wet, baby, so fuckin’ pretty, creamin’ all over my cock, aren’t you?” You nodded, yesyesyes, so obscene, you began to cry, heavy sobs heaving from your lips at the sheer pleasure of it all.

“Y’the only one that can make me feel this good, Robbie,” you moaned, blindly reaching back to find one of hands, clutching onto it and weaving your fingers between his. “M’all yours, Sir.”

His voice cracked when he whined out, squeezing his eyes shut smoothing a hand over the fat of your ass cheeks.

“Shit,” he hissed through clenched teeth, “baby, m’gonna cum already— m’sorry, sweet girl, just gotta fill you up.”

“Oh, please,” you begged, clenching and quivering around him, feeling the thick veins and ridges that ran along his length thrusting in and out, in and out. “Need it, want you to put a baby inside me, you’d make such a good daddy, Robert.”

His brain short-circuited at your crude words, hips stuttering and eyes going all starry and glossy as he came. Quick ropes of cum painted your walls, sticky and thick, and even with how sensitive his cock felt he continued to fuck his seed into your spasming pussy, your own orgasm washing over you with his filthy sounds.

Not a drop of cum was left to waste, all of it pushed deep inside, and once he was far too overstimulated to be inside you any longer, he stuffed his fingers inside you, plugging you with the Fischer prodigy and hoping with flushed cheeks and a beating heart it’d take.

All he wanted was to see you all round and full with his children. And soon the ring he had bought would be situated pride and place on your ring finger.

Soon.

#robert fischer imagine #robert fischer x reader #robert fischer blurb #robert fischer smut #inception x reader #inception smut #cillian murphy blurb #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader

514 notes · View notes

lovesickry · 8 months

Text

- wish you would.

┈⋆⭒ lando norris x fem!reader [8k] ┈⋆⭒ masterlist! ˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⎯ contains: 18+, pwp, smut, angst, dickhead lando, dickhead reader, swearing, alcohol consumption, general stupidness. .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⎯ a/n: this has been brewing for the longest time in the depths of my brain istg, its a long one.

your relationship with lando recently, had more or less been……tainted. by some imaginary force, but some force nonetheless.

you’d fallen out of touch simply and quickly but you missed him, as any “friend” would do. moping about in the house you shared with max and him, it wanst fucking fair, he didnt get to do this to you. It had been four weeks since you last heard from him, max was god knows where, off with Lando and here you sat.

it was just fucking miserable. Four weeks ago you were in fucking ibiza and now your bestfriend hated you, so your life definitely wasn’t going as you thought it would have.

Didnt help that on the last time you saw him you may or may not have fucked in a bathroom stall and then just pretended nothing happened the rest of your trip. Though when the season started again he didn’t respond to a single one of your texts, or quite literally communicate with you in any way whatsoever.

//// communication over the past few weeks:

4 weeks ago:

hey lando was the the flight back alright?

lando?

3 weeks ago:

are you alive?

max told me you're alive so what is it then?

2 weeks ago

oh come on lando

LANDO?

you can't just ignore me and fucking see max every weekend are you joking?

A week ago:

can you just talk to me?

you were practically furious, after the confusion went away, after the tears went away you were just furious. with him, how he treated you.

Originally you had tried to brush it off, that it was just him coming to terms with his breakup with luisa and you being (so you thought) the first person he had been with since, but the breakup was 4 months prior to Ibiza and you couldn't dismiss it as a simple "fuck". Not with all your history.

The worst part though, you remembered every little detail.....every time his skin touched yours, every single thing he whispered in your ear, each time he did something that made your stomach tighten or the hairs on your neck stand up. It would've been easier if you hadn't thought about that night, but that would be a lie. It sat there in the corners of your mind every waking moment and you couldnt shake it and now he wouldnt even fucking talk to you. Asshole. You'd be seeing Lando in a week nonetheless, he couldn't exactly avoid you considering you lived in the same house and he would be in the country. Though you couldn't count on it, considering the lengths he's went to so far.

///// FOUR WEEKS AGO- {Ibiza. Following the Spanish Grand Prix.}

his laughs were muffled as his mouth hits yours, his hands guiding you against the furthest wall of the bathroom. the music was loud and you could still hear it through the concrete walls of the bathroom.

it was lit by purple light and as you pulled back, now flush against lando and opened your eyes you swore lando looked less like a man and more like something else entirely. his hands were on your hips far too fast for somebody who hasn’t thought about this before, wanting to kiss every inch of your neck as your hands grabbed and tugged lightly at his curls. every noise he made was heaven, every touch a gift.

“I want to be inside you”

You could've sworn that comment made you blush, or atleast freeze up a little. Your stomach coiling and heating as he met your gaze. Fucking hell. His lips were puffy, his hair a mess.

He had never looked better a day in his life, you were frantic the way you kneeled in front of him to undo his belt and then his trousers.

“Fuck look at you”

“Oh my god”

If you weren't wet you sure were now, Lando had one of those mouths that was rarely closed and in this case you were glad for it. He wasn't afraid to make noises with you either, each rhythmic sound leaving his mouth dug the hole deeper and deeper.

By the time Lando was stripped to his boxers and you to your bra and panties he was desperate, making it known just how much he wanted, needed you. his hands were having trouble staying still and yours were roaming all across his stomach while he repeated your name in you ear, like a mantra.

He was searing hot, the muscle on his stomach was flushed and you could feel him grimacing in your neck the longer your hands lingered on a particular place. The minute your hands drifted down to where you needed him most he made a kind of pleased breathy nose, squeezing at the skin of your waist.

“You’re so fucking hot” you say to him, figuring its about time he knows the effect he has on you as well. Hands drifting lower, under the band of his boxers, hes painfully hard, tip sensitive and pink as you pull his boxers down. He drawls out a long fuck, before pulling you in for one more kiss and then pushing you impossibly closer to the wall.

“Tell me if it hurts okay”

What you would've thought as cocky coming out of anyone's mouth, was sincere coming out of Lando’s, he was……significantly big. As he finally pushed into you, holding the back of your head as to not let it hit the wall he whispered sweet filth into your ear.

“Good girl”

“You can take it”

“So good”

“fuck”

It was all too much, as he bottomed out finally you already felt close and as he moved. Oh god it was already perfect, the buildup and finally this. His body moved rhythmically, controlled and delicious. His hands were mainly used to hold you in place, while yours found the places he liked to be touched most and paid attention to those, relishing in the tiny noises he made in response to you. You could tell Lando was getting close when his thrusts started getting sloppier, less regular, more effort, at that point you brought a hand to your clit, rubbing small circles, trying to read when he was cumming so you could cum too.

“I'm getting close” he choked out, god his words alone coiled your stomach further.

“I’ll come when you do” you say, nodding at him.

“Fuck-yes” another breathy line of speech, followed by sloppy, messy thrusts and some audible groans.

Finally you feel him, pulsing inside of you and you know hes just there, just about there.

“Im-” he goes to say, but you already know.

“Yeah. fuck. Please” your desperate now.

You come with your eyes closed, legs shaking and the feeling of warmth filling your stomach as Lando pulls out and youre met with the blurred sight of a supremely dishevelled Lando whos basically holding you upright and grinning at you so fucking hard youre sure his cheeks would hurt. You lean slightly forward, resting your forward on his shoulder, still breathing hard, heart beating much too fast than normal.

“Why didn't we do that any fucking sooner?” he says, his body shaking slightly, from ecstasy but also from the laugh that rocks his body.You can't help but grin at the comment, feeling the effect of post-orgasm and also from the alcohol earlier. Getting your clothes on is a clumsy, messy endeavour and you both look entirely suspicious when you exit the large bathroom still in fits of giggles.

///// NOW- London. Week of the Silverstone Grand Prix

you recalled the moment with complete contentment, there wasn't a moment you could pinpoint that could warrant this reaction from him. sure he could be feeling a bit confused but seriously?

the text from max announcing that they were on their way was a kind gesture but fundamentally futile. as much as you could avoid Lando you would have to talk to him at one point of another, living arrangements in mind.

The ten minutes awaiting their arrival were ones of complete disdain and anxiousness. Followed by deciding you would go out for a walk to miss them entering the house, leaving just as you heard the front door opening, texting max you were out for a walk. You hoped that by walking at least around the block, maybe you'd clear your mind slightly, being out in nature and all. You walked for about an hour, until the sun started to go down and you figured you should probably go home. The walk had helped slightly, Lando was now only a part of much bigger problems you'd formed in your head. Entering the front door and immediately hearing Lando’s laugh instilled something within you. You were never quiet but in this moment you were, Lando spotted you as he waved to Max in the kitchen and immediately walked towards you. Pulling you into a surprising hug, even Max was shocked, knowing of the circumstances over the last few weeks. Your hands stayed at your sides while he hugged you, not wanting to reciprocate something that was not genuine. After pulling away he went back to wherever he was and Max simply raised his eyebrows at you before shrugging his shoulders. You ate dinner in your room and didn't hear from him all night.

The morning was strange? Lando was almost normal? Like nothing had happened the past weeks, like he had fucking ignored you. You couldn't tell if it was encouraging or unsettling. He sat next to you and asked you about what you’d been up to and genuinely seemed interested. The ignored messages nagged at the back of your mind, bring it up, bring it up. You never did, Max watched on in quiet surprise as the conversation flowed. Not once was the communication, or lack thereof over the past few weeks mentioned. Undeniably odd. The only normal thing that occurred all day was the momentous decision of which Lando decided to pull you away for a chat, you could finally hash it out.

“Sorry i just wanted to say”

He cleared his throat.

“About IBiza”

“Lando-” you go to say, wanting to apologise for gods know what as if you both weren't complicit in your actions and happily so.

“No, I never should’ve crossed the line, fucked with what we have, I'm sorry i ignored you. That was shitty, but I just felt so fucking awful I couldn't shake it. Im sorry”

Your stunned silent, hoping your emotions aren't displayed as clear as you feel them on your face. so the way he was articulating now was that he didnt like you like the way you wish he would?

“Oh” it's a small response in comparison to the quite large statement he just made. You reflect on his words “fucked with what we have”, of course he just wanted to be friends.

You snap out of it, conjuring up a much more deserving response for him.

“Of course. No its okay Lan, thanks for saying something. I always like to know your heart is still beating though”

He lets slip a grin.

“You wish it wasn't sometimes”

“Maybe”

“Yeah piss off”

Just like that it was back to normal, you spent the rest of the day hanging out with Max and Lando watching shit movies and listening to Lando’s many racing stories. The London Grand Prix was this week and talk about it was already riling you up, knowing you were getting a paddock pass with Lando practically made you giddy. You'd always been into the sport having had done karting briefly in your youth but then your parents moved to London and you never really got quite back into it. Thus, there was only so many quips you could make on top of Lando’s stories. The day grew old and soon you were all gathered in your kitchen screaming at each other as Max fought with you over the wooden spoon.

“This is why I cook and you set the table” you said, tugging the spoon towards you.

“I don't wanna set the table”

You laughed at this, Lando too. His tone of voice was childish, mocking almost. You yield and let him stir the sauce as you set the table.

You ate mostly in comfortable silence or small talk, everyone was obviously hungry. After dinner you agree on accompanying Lando to the track the next day. Something that you were undeniably and overwhelmingly excited for, having not gone to a race for a few months and being interested in the sport.

He streamed that night and you would've been annoyed going to bed listening to him chatter on and on had it not been him. But it was him and you loved that he made noise, the reassurance that he was here and not miles away.

The birds seemed to puncture the bubble that encased you in sleep as you groggily rose and opened the blinds, revealing the already blinding summer sun.

Treading from your room to the kitchen to boil the kettle was a silent and pivotal start to your morning, though your morning routine was upheaved by the sight of Lando standing bare, all except his boxer shorts in the kitchen. Leant against the counter tops you could see his bronze chest and the taut muscle that you once so diligently set your fingers upon. The silence of you standing and taking in the sight was interrupted by the sound of the kettle whistle, his body jolted to life, halting the sculpted like state he seemed to be in with your observation.

He ran a hand through his hair, now noticeably ruffled as he reached for a mug from the cupboard. Jutting out another expanse of muscle that you were unprepared for. You realised that you were ogling him quite openly and set forward your feet, your steps were slightly muted by your slippers and you were grateful for the noise to be muffled as you slid in next to him, retrieving your own mug and tea bag from the cupboard. He seemed unphased by your presence, simply nodding at you before looking back at his phone. You were closer to him now and you can see just about every inch of vein and taut skin while you pour the water over the tea-bag, god he's fucking distracting. Lando is jutting his hips out, legs away from the bench as he leans against it. sipping your tea is less relaxing than one might think as you find your eyes darting to any bare skin of Lando's that floods your peripheral vision.

you stood in the kitchen together in comfortable silence for roughly however long it took you to check the notifications that you had received the night before, just as you were conveniently interrupted, lifting your head to listen.

"you excited about today?" he says, smug about his physical state as you nearly struggle for words.

you swallow and form words as fast as you can, lest to make a fool of yourself this early in the morning.

"you're the one racing, are you excited?" its probably a more relevant question, considering.

He scoffs at your question before answering. “well your home grand prix is always mega” He pauses and glances up at you likes hes thinking if what he is about to say is right or not. (he continues) “and you know having you guys at the race is always funner”

you would've been delighted at that fact he had just stated, but he had snuck in you....guys. not just you, not you independently, but you AND max. god you needed to get it out of your head that Lando had any semblance of a romantic feeling for you since Ibiza because clearly the man was as platonic as you could be. you tried as best you could to hide any kind of disappointment which tried to fight its way onto your face.

"More fun?" mocking his english.

It's nowhere near what you yearned to say, but it would do momentarily and he smiled at that, moving closing to you. his warmth radiating, almost uncomfortably in the motionless air that surrounded the kitchen.

"Did I tell you that Oscar nearly beat me at karting the other day?"

You grin at this, it's the lightness to the conversation that you had been anticipating, wanting nothing more than to get rid of this bright, blaring tension.

“Please do go on.”

You sip your tea as you listen to him recount his story of Oscar beating him in his very own karts, you make effort not to spit out the hot water when Lando says something particular funny and slap him on the shoulder. While he continues on, another random tangent coming to mind you get some things out to make breakfast, might as well get on with the day. Considering you all have to leave here in around 3 hours.

Lando leaves midway to “put some clothes on” and you fight your muscles urging yourself to turn around and glance one final time at his bronzed skin. He returns clothed and with Max and you present them with your accumulated breakfast, you eat in rather rowdy conversation, Lando opening a whole can of worms he was not prepared for. then you each go get ready respectively to go to track.

You arrive at track around 11am and Lando punctually leaves your side, excusing himself to go to the media pen. you seperate yourself from Max and Pietra. Not wanting to third wheel, though also not minding the time alone to simply walk around, you even knew some of the drivers now so it wasn't like you'd have nobody, hopefully? the atmosphere was always alight in the paddock, though you’d developed a habit of pretending to be more important than you were, thus to avoid being approached by much older, much richer men who said they could “look after you”. you run into daniel and you couldn’t be happier, greeting him with a hug. he had been happier since he had re-joined redbull and you’d been overjoyed for him, you’d noticed when he was at mclaren the sheer mental effort it took him not to breakdown sometimes and you’d try as hard as you could being who you were (landos friend) to try and console him. you’d formed a kind of friendship that depended on if lando was with luisa and you’d kind of just hang around with him. he was what everyone said he was; relentlessly kind, endlessy funny and much too charming.

you weren’t ashamed to admit you’d gotten with him a few too many times when he was broken up with his girlfriend, though when you told Lando he was less than impressed, feigning the wounded best friend card for the best of a month, before finally getting over it. but it had never gone further than sex, there was something between you two, something unnameable but tangible that said it when you didn't need to. you were close friends besides that and he was always fun to talk to, you'd missed him around.

"whatcha doing here?"

"just supporting the muppet" (lando) whom he knew and nodded fervently at the reference.

"ohhhhhh"

"haven't seen you in a while, how are ya?"

"pretty good, lando and me just had a falling out but everything's fine now I think"

"shit. what about?"

you pause.

"you don't have to tell me, sorry"

"no no its all good, just-hold on"

you lead him into a semi private corner of the red bull area.

"we kinda had sex"

his face dropped, eyes wide, mouth slack, like a fucking cartoon.

"FINALLY" he says, much too loud and you go to cover his mouth with your hand.

"SHUSH"

"ok sorry" he whispers

"but go on, tell me all the juicy details"

"youre disgusting" you scoff.

he waits for you to continue... and you do.

"okay fine, do you remember Ibiza?"

"yes..." he's smirking now, swaying side to side.

"well we fucked in the bathroom and then he ignored me for four weeks and then he kinda apologised and said that he"

you put your fingers up, making air quotes with your fingers.

"never should've fucked with what we have"

you let that sink in for a second, Daniel clearing processing your words, fair enough.

"fuck that" he says finally, exhaling deeply.

you let out a small laugh and lean against the wall opposite to him.

"literally look" you bring your phone from your pocket, scrolling through and revealing the countless messages that were left unanswered.

"then he just shows up and pretends nothing happens. and okay, im glad he said something, after all that, but it wouldn't have killed him to fucking respond"

"lando is stupid sometimes, as someone on the receiving end. he either gets over it or.... he just fucking comes to his senses" he makes a kind of flowing hand gesture and then continues.

"so he'll either confess his love for you in prince-like fashion or ignore you for the rest of your life"

"great."

"I'm filled with wisdom I know"

"okay but seriously I think I have to go, but just wait for lando to crack or something.

he pauses and tilts his head slightly quirking a brow.

or.. better- juust make him crack."

he's out of the red bull garage, in the middle of the paddock when you grab his arm, he turns to face you.

"okay don't be all cryptic wise one,"make him crack", come on?"

"make him crack"

"what?" exasperation is the best word to use to describe your emotions right now.

"make.him.crack"

god hes so dramatic, his face inching closer.

you roll your eyes.

"how?"

just then, you feel the air move around you as a body walks past. you look up and see the fading papaya of Lando. Though he doesn't aknowledge you, your head is now fully turned staring at the back of Lando. Danny turns to join you and slaps you on the back, you jolt forward.

"think you just did" he walks off, though not before turning once more back to you.

"GOOD LUCK!"

oh christ, you angle your head down, walking wordlessly in the direction to McLaren hospitality to hopefully either see Lando and unpack whatever it was you thought you saw plastered on his face or perhaps see Max and have a pleasant conversation that didn't involve Lando Norris.

you make your way to McLaren hospitality, only stopping to talk to Lily who was just fresh out of a golf tournament, you always looked on in awe as she spoke about it. you quickly found Max and Pietra, mingling and sipping on champagne that you did not want to see the price of. looking over the track you ask the only question you can think of.

"have you seen lando?"

"nah, he came in and then kinda disappeared" max replies.

"maybe his driver's room?" pietra offers.

better than nothing.

would you even be allowed back there?

you somehow weasel your way into the McLaren garage, being asked on numerous occasions what you were doing and who you were simply to respond with; oh, uh, um, I'm Landos friend. you were hopeless but somehow they believed you and you were given one last interrogation by his physio before he recognised you and let you past, finally reaching his door. if he wasn't here, you might just take a nap in his room anyway, deserving resulting of the effort it took to get yourself here. you raise your hand to knock and almost stop yourself but let your fist hit the door. he's flushed when he answers the doors, you can see a slight sheen to his face as you walk in, he stands to the side wordlessly as you pass him.

“pietra and max are so happy it makes me wanna throw up”

trying to hopefully prove daniel wrong and also cut the undeniable tension that seemed to encase both of you. lando let’s out a small laugh at your comment. going to sit down, you follow him across the room.

“I forgot how hot it is” he throws his hands up frantically and flops on the couch.

you open your mouth to respond but nothing seems to flow out. you follow him simply across the room, sitting across from him and meeting the top of his head as he looks down at his feet.

"you okay?" his head jolts up and he shakes it like he wasn't fully listening.

"oh huh... yeah sorry, no im good. you?"

"really you just seem distracted, sorry im not trying to pry I just-" he cuts you off

"maybe you're just distracting me" he's smirking while he says it and you can tell hes joking even if you wish he wasn't.

"oh haha" you say, deadpan, aware of the fact that he could be entirely mocking you.

he laughs again, genuinely this time and you smile at the sound.

"what do you even do in here"

"nothing"

"really?"

"its my favourite thing to do"

"I thought it was sleeping"

"you're so funny"

"I know, I don't get it from you though"

"oh really? who'd you get it from?"

"your old teammate" you joke, though he seems to not be in the mood.

he scoffs but doesnt laugh and his face returns to a formal neutrality.

"oh come on" you say jokingly

"what?" he says fast

you look at him quizzically and he continues, seeming to gather a question from your expression.

"just stop being obsessed with Daniel its gross"

its your turn to get fed up, the audacious nature of his comment making you sick.

"what?"

"he has a girlfriend you can't be fucking flirting with him"

there was a burning anger coming up your throat.

"I wasn't flirting lando, why do you always want to fight"

"I've seen you flirt and you were fucking begging him"

"you're such a fucking hypocrite lando"

"wanna be more specific?"

"ibiza?"

"what about it" his jaw is clenched now and hes stood up, as are you.

"the fact that you were the dragging me into the bathroom and then the one ignoring me for four fucking weeks maybe?"

"you enjoyed it just as much as I did. don't do that"

"yeah I did fucking enjoy it. I enjoyed it enough to not fucking ignore you"

"I didn't fucking ignore you, I just had to sort some things out"

"like what? how many girls you'd bring home with max after the race that I wasn't invited to maybe?"

it was cruel, but he deserved it. it had been brewing for so long, the anxiety you held towards him based solely on the fact that he could've been with somebody after you simply to rid him of you. while you couldn't fathom getting with anybody else, lest the memory of his skin on yours fade anymore.

"oh fuck off don't pretend that you didn't literally fuck daniel for months when he was my teammate"

"AND.. SO WHAT? I told you that, don't rub that in my face."

"SO WHAT? you were fucking my teammate and I pretended that I didn't care"

"you told me you didn't care. you had luisa and I was sick of standing there like I didn't care "

"so you fucked Daniel cause I was with luisa?"

"you're so infuriating"

"why did you fuck him?"

"BECAUSE LANDO"

"BECAUSE WHAT?"

you were standing uncomfortably close now, your fists balling up your skirt as he restlessly tapped his thigh, rhythmically and fast. there was no coherent response you'd figured would be appropriate to reply with, so you didn't.

lando moves closer to you, looking down at you slightly.

"Why Daniel?" his eyes are firm and he places his left hand loosely on your waist.

you finally look up from the ground and notice his pinky just grazing the patch of skin you have uncovered between the shirt and your skirt.

"why?"

its still anger that fuels you when you respond.

"because" your teeth clenching doesn't let you answer, you swallow, take a deep breath and begin again trying to settle slightly.

"because at least to Danny I was his first choice, not his third."

"did Danny say that?"

"say what?"

"that you were his first choice"

"I fucking hate you sometimes"

"you were my fucking first choice, until you went and had sex with my teammate"

"so you can fuck whoever you want and I can fuck.... nobody?"

he scoffs again, hand tightening slightly on your waist.

"fuck anyone but him."

"anyone?"

"anyone"

"so I can fuck Oscar then"

his face resets, eyes hardening again.

"or George maybe, or Carlos."

"don't"

"yeah. don't what lando?"

"don't mock me"

"this is fucking useless"

you go to walk away, though both his hands were suddenly on your waist. his heads tilts as you resettle into the stance you only briefly left.

"you're so fucking infuriating" you say, the most honest thing you'd said since stepping foot in his room

there were no words for what seemed to follow. your eyes met his and there was something that resembled anguish in his and you couldn't see yours but you wanted his hands to stay on you forever. your mind flicked back to ibiza and there was a increasing space in your mind where you wished that lando would close the space between you and just fucking kiss you.

there was a knock at the door and lando broke immediate eye contact. walking away from you, your head drifts downwards as anger fills you. anger directed towards yourself for wishing he'd touch you and anger directed at him for behaving like he did. he left swiftly as the person at the door mentioned media and you left the paddock soon after, returning to the quiet house as max and pieta were planning to go out afterwards.

you arrive home in the same flurry of frustration that you left the paddock in, going straight to your room and trying to you guess "sleep it off". after lying horizontal for what felt like hours, you realised it wasn't going to cut it. the frustration which you wished had channeled into sleep and not the constant resurfacing of lando's voice, his hair, his hands, his cock that night in Ibiza. you venture into the kitchen and shamelessly take three shots before walking back and lying down, hoping the alcohol would go straight to your head sending you to sleep. you wished that you had fallen asleep instead of trailing your hand down into your already embarrassingly soaking, aching cunt. though, by your 2nd orgasm the frustration was long gone and all that remained was the five senses and the bed beneath you, blurred by the alcohol and the ecstasy of your second orgasm . just as your breath got shallower and you reached for your second hand to bite down on, your phone, which had sat idly by for most of this endeavour decides to start ringing annoyingly loud. never one for your ringer on its confusing why of all moments its this. begrudgingly, you turn over, expecting your boss or even your mother, definitely not lando.

"what?" you're blunt and you're trying hard to conceal your shallow breaths lest you have to concoct an excuse..

"are you home?" hes equally as unemotional but sounds slightly more desperate.

"yeah" you say, keeping it short as you're still exhausted and slightly glazed with a sheen of sweat.

"why are you so puffed?"

the dreaded question.

"went for a run" the heavily debated answer.

"come open the door"

fuck.

you jolted upright out of bed, throwing on a pair of clothes that could be deemed activewear and running past the bathroom to fix your hair and cover yourself in a scent that wasn't sweat mixed with sex. you swing open the door and try to appear once again, out of breath though from something completely fake. you'd even thrown on a pair of running shoes to really sell it, in the off chance that he'd sniff out the lie that you feared and then convince himself he won. his face is blank as you open the door to reveal him still clad in his McLaren kit from today. he looks at you suspiciously up and down before entering wordlessly.

“did i have that much of an effect on you, that you had to get yourself off?”

"I went for a run"

"sure you did"

your eyes widen as he makes the connection, unsure of how he seemed to know, though nonetheless being fueled with anger of his sheer audacity and vulgarity at just about everything. knowing exactly what would tick him off in this moment you did just that.

“maybe it was danny”

“liar” he mutters under his breath

you walk back to your bedroom where you promptly close the door, he follows you most of the way thoigh doesn’t knock on your door, simply passes by. you get out of your clothes and throw on a big t shirt before throwing something on the tv and trying not to get yourself off for the third time today, hating your body because no matter the anger there was still a tangible heat in your core that nagged at you to be fixed.

you must of dozed off because when you woke up your stomach was rumbling and you couldn't for the life of you remember any of the past plot that had led up to the current point that was being shown and your stomach was now aching to be fed. you check the clock which reads 9:46pm and you smile to yourself for being so responsible as you tread out to the kitchen to eat frankly whatever is available. lando appears to be still in his room which lets you breath a little easier as you make some toast for yourself. you hear landos door creak and crane your neck around to see if he exits or not, you spy the quick movement that he makes from his room to the bathroom as he shuts the bathroom door. shortly after, to avoid any awkwardness you dash back to your room after quickly consuming your feast of toast.

your door is slightly ajar as you spot lando making a beeline towards it. you sigh as you only imagine what he is about to say as he opens the door.

"tell me that you weren't flirting with him today"

"lando" you say, partly in questioning, partly in confusion.

"you know" he says, desperately this time, creeping slower towards you.

"I was talking to him about you" you say, quite frankly relishing in the feeling it gives to him any kind of humiliation.

he's stunned silent, though his face paints a faint distrust.

"don't make me cocky" the switch he makes from neutral to smug nearly gives you whiplash.

"talking to him about how to make you "crack" or something"

something twitches within him, like you've caught him during something.

"and how exactly did you plan on doing that?"

you ponder the question but realise lying would do more than truth.

"I think I already have"

he scoffs at that but his eyebrows and jaw is slack and you gain confidence at the sight. moving towards him his eyes follow your every move, scanning over your bare legs and the bare skin where the shit has slid down your shoulder revealing your collar bone. your hands land just above his waistband and he leans towards your touch as your hands circle just above it. drifting ever so slightly up to feel the taut muscle below his shirt. his jaw is clenched as he gains control once more and suddenly grips both of your wrists in his hands. really looking at you now, taking the sight of you in.

"don't"

"why?"

"you're my best friend"

"we passed "friends" in ibiza"

he takes a step backwards towards the wall, throwing his hands out in exasperation.

"fuck you make me so fucking angry, "

he takes a breath and continues, looking at you now.

"I shouldn't look at Daniel like I wanted to kill him just because he talked to you."

his body twitches once again towards you as he opens his eyes to meet yours.

"do you want me to say how good he was?" you say, blaming the alcohol from earlier for your vulgarity.

his eyes flash black and you smile, finally yielding the reaction that lando seemed to get from you.

"bet he wasn't as good as me"

"hmm.... wanna refresh my memory?" its bold but you don't care.

just like that lando steps out of the doorway and closes it behind him, coming straight towards you.

"do you want me too?"

"hm maybe he was better?" you're still teasing because frankly, he still deserves it and you hate to say again but you relish in the feeling you take from it.

"don't act all cute" lando says, voice straining.

with that comment you make a small stride towards him, once again closing the gap between the two of you, though instead of aiming for his waistband you go for the neck.

“don’t pretend that you don’t like it” you say, your breath fanning his neck as he either tries to centre himself or allow you to do whatever it is you’re doing to him. your nose grazing the skin of his neck and he visible shivers, goosebumps littering the skin that you just grazed. it was no secret Lando’s neck was fucking sensitive and you’d always saved the information for a rainy day, today was fucking pouring. you skimmed the right side of Lando’s neck with your tongue, barely touching, only the slightest bit, then focused in on smaller spots kissing around to the left side and then coming up and moving over, he made little sound, though he made clear note that he was holding it in, his hands so harshly by his side, shoved into his pockets to keep himself from touching you, he needed to be the one to break, you wouldn't, accept anything else. so when you finally reached a spot just underneath his jaw, left of his now bobbing throat, he let out a strangled groan/whimper/laugh and you knew that was the first domino to fall. that, noise which brought his hand out of his pockets and onto your hips. the noise which encouraged you to knot of your hands into his hair just how you know he liked it.

"don't make me beg" he says, finally breaking the impenetrable silence by a whisper, a low mumbled sequence of words that makes your core tighten shamelessly.

you break apart finally and look at him; wanton and desperate, neck red and hair messy. his shirt once droopy and casual, now clung to the parts of him that you wished you could see. his shoulders, his chest, his arms. you admired him for a lost amount of time before ever debating the substance of a response, figuring your blatant admiration was enough to tell him that you seriously didn't plan to. your hands leave any skin of his and go behind your back, grabbing the hem of your shirt to pull over your head. your room is cold, at least you think it must be, because your nipples are already hard under your shirt as you stand in nothing but your panties directly in front of your best friend. his hands are already out of his pockets, hovering just beside your skin, you mimic the words he’s just said to you.

“don’t make me beg” you say, hoping the crack in your voice is unnoticeable as you portray your last wish for him to put his hands on any part of you.

his eyes are empty now, only looking at you, really looking as he finally drags his hands up and down the side of your stomach. looking at the way your eyes flutter closed any time his fingers brush over your bare breasts. before you can mumble any more arguments his body is on yours, in a flash. he couldn't have touched you fast enough, hard enough, long enough. his lips fought furiously with yours as he displayed your now bare back against the blank wall he once stood on, hands now deliciously free from his pockets and thick fingers all over every part of you. you're tugging at the hem of his shirt while he kisses your neck, wanting nothing more than the feeling of his skin against yours. he breaks apart from you in a flurry and he pulls his shirt over his head. you step back against the wall to distant yourself from him in order to see the whole expanse of his chest as he drops the cloth on the floor with yours. there is nothing but air exchanged between you two for the better of 30 seconds as you stare eachother down. lando eyes raking every inch of bare skin while you hone in on the expanse of his shoulders, noticing a faint but noticeable bite mark that you may or may not have caused.

"eyes are up here?" he says, much too cocky for something who was writhing while you pulled his hair moments ago.

“shut up” you say, making your way towards him once more, basking in the warmth that connects your two bodies. it’s a collision that could be considered bruising as your lips meet, clashing once more, albeit more desperately as you cling to any part of landos skin that is exposed. focusing on the way his back moves with you and the taut muscles that moves in and out. it’s hot between you two, lando is constantly moving his hands that seem to explore just about every edge of your body; your jaw, your neck, that spot just above your hip. he hasn’t even done anything but you’re virtually begging when he finally moves his hands down toward your soaking core. pulling your panties down was swift and lando almost immediately was back on you, covering you, shielding you. he looked at you as he spat in his hand, you’d probably find it disgusting if you weren’t so turned on. your eyes twitched and he lowered his hands, sliding the wetness through your folds, your eyes fluttered shut and your body jolted forward in the pleasure. fuck he felt so good, you throw your head back, against the wall needing some kind of grounding feature. his hands finally pushing inside of you, making you make some kind of strangled sound that lando laughs at quietly as he pushes his thick finger in and out of you slowly.

"so fucking wet huh?" he says beside your ear, taunting lips grazing your earlobe.

you shiver at the comment, disgraced how much he has effected you in such little time. he seems to read your mind though and adds another finger, causing another whole wave of pleasure to come over you and a stretch of fucks and shits and countless deep breaths, you move your hand over his, encouraging him to speed up. which he soon does, painfully so, curling his fingers in and out of you, knowing how close you're getting, paying attention to the way your face flutters and your legs shake. you drag your other hand to your clit while his pace remains bruising. you whimper at the contact, your clit suddenly swollen and sensitive with the contact. your keeling over nearly, lando keeping you entirely upright as you get yourself impossible closer. its all to soon when his movements still and he grabs your hand, prompting you to look at him, desperate and confused and endlessly frustrated.

"tell me what you were thinking 'bout when this afternoon." not a question, a statement. he wouldn't continue if you didn't answer him.

you're squirming now, against your will, shamelessly desperate but you weren't going to give him any satisfaction. you wouldn't let yourself. you try and steady yourself, coaxing all the faux confidence you could before teasing him just that little bit more. you lean forward, as he did before. grazing your nipples on his chest and your lips on his earlobe, you could see he was hard now and you planned to use it.

"thinking about the time Danny fucked me in this room" you weren't lying, Danny did use to come over when lando was away, but just to hang out. you'd divulge that part later.

you didn't miss the way lando eyebrows grew flat and his eyes darkened, hands suddenly gripping firmer on your skin as you looked up at him, coy as can be. you lean forward again, he almost stops you but you get far enough to tell him.

"was thinkin' about how big you are" that caused a reaction. praise. his eyes suddenly springing open.

"knew it" he retaliates almost laughing as he closes the gap once again, though this time moving onto the bed. as he pushes you on the bed he removes his boxers, the final fucking barrier between the both of you and you couldn't be more giddy as he goes to get on top of you and you push him so he's rolled over.

he's fucked you once. your turn.

you use his chest to steady yourself as you put both legs beside him, relishing in the way he looks at you. like there's nobody else, nothing else, just you and him. hes so warm, sweat sheening the skin on his chest and thighs, his hair is damp and he raises his head, one hand behind it to admire you. you graze one finger over his tip and his abdomen tenses and lets go, so fucking sensitive. he's biting his lip as you tease him a fair bit more, just enough, circling the tip, see it throbbing.

"wanna -hmph... tell me how big it is" its strangled and mocking and high-pitched and so fucking hot coming out of his mouth you can't do anything but oblige, so as you finally sink down onto his red, throbbing cock.

"so fucking big lan' " he lets out something actually audible at that comment but you're not entirely sure you hear it because it feels so fucking good, the stretch from this angle. you feel lando's hands come to your hips aiding you as he slowly bottoms out. he leans up to meet you when he bottoms out, you're in a trance, so overwhelmed with pleasure that you're sure lando is a god or something the way he moves your hips just fucking right that has you repeating his name like a mantra as he moves the both of you in perfect fucking unison.

"so fuckin' pretty"

"so fuckin' perfect"

"make me so fuckin' angry"

you smile at his comments, biting your lip, he knows his effect on you but you could always try to dampen it just a little more, but the comments don't help the noises that escape your mouth.

" 'm close " you say, between incoherent noises, he smiles against your neck and goes faster, impossibly faster, forcing you impossibly closer together. you clumsily move one of your hands to your clit and its perfect. he knows just how close you are, putting both his hands around you as you suddenly become weak as it rushes over you, jolting forward, head landing on his shoulder before he sloppily thrusts a few more times and hes coming hard and fast inside you and you're fucking perfect. everything is perfect, your hand is in his hair, holding it firmly, keeping you down to earth as you meet his eyes.

"fuck you" its breathless and completely futile as you play with the curls at the back of his head, melting in any kind of touch you're willing to give him. he laughs at you and you fucking love his smile.

"you just did" he said, incredibly proud of himself, leaning in afterwards littering your neck with kisses.

1K notes · View notes

icallhimjoey · 2 months

Text

Reinvent Love

♥ ♥ Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Joe are treading new waters. You’re no longer flatmates, but still close. More than friends, but nothing defined. Nothing labeled. Determined to not lose what you have, though. But, can you?

CW / disclaimer: rpf, fem!reader, language, adult themes, jealousy, accusations, soft fluff, season 3 of my flatmate!joe

Author’s note: the first cracks; they're here - and, again, you don’t need to have read define close or explain us, but it’ll obviously give you backstory, which might help!

Wordcount: 3.6K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

It was silly. Joe was being silly.

He knew it, and felt so stupid for it. Like, in hindsight, the worrying felt so dumb. The constant milling shit over didn’t change anything, there was no real point to it. Although, maybe you being on his mind in this... new manner was what summoned you last night.

You just showed up, talking about a crazy day, no sad pouts, no needy touches. Just jittery movements and a lot to tell him.

Joe kind of sat back on his sofa, spread out and leaning into his left elbow and watched you pace around his lounge. Something about something a colleague had said that then turned out to be lies and you found out something by overhearing a phone call you weren’t meant to overhear – Joe was barely following along. Didn’t really try his best to, if he was honest.

He was moreso paying attention to what you were actually doing – were you even aware that you had started grabbing random things he had left lying around on his coffee table, on the kitchen island, on the counters, and one by one, put everything away where it was meant to go?

Joe pursed a smile as he realised you knew exactly where everything went. Why did that make his chest ache in the best of ways?

This new casual form of intimacy seemed so small, but Joe felt how it smothered that little grain of doubt that resided in his chest. That little grain that had convinced him that you were probably going to fall into a new routine with your new flatmate after he moved in and, then you would probably grow close to him and Joe knew how you... no.

No.

He couldn’t think that.

It wasn’t fair on you. He caught himself trying to finish the thought a lot, but he knew it wasn’t fair. Wasn’t true. He didn’t even fully believe it. It was this thing. Still, he also couldn’t help how it simultaneously made him grow a little more possessive and made him want to prepare for the worst.

But, she was here, he had to remind himself.

She’s here.

And she was wandering around his space, letting her train of thought flow freely from her brain into his living room and he used to witness this all the time when you lived together still. Joe realised he’d actually missed it a lot, and wasn’t that the whole point? That he got to miss you now?

God, Joe missed you a lot and you were right there and he could just burst at the seams at how fucking lucky he felt.

He was a just normal guy in a normal flat with a normal relationship– well, normalish relationship, anyway. Not that you had talked about anything yet. Of course you hadn’t. But it was pretty fucking obvious what this was. So he had started shrugging whenever someone would ask if you were actually together, which felt a lot better than the forever, “No, we’re flatmates, what are you talking about?” he used to throw at people, practically gaslighting them out of whatever they thought they’d witnessed between him and the girl that he used to live with.

It was working. The plan he had made, this vague idea of normalcy; it was working out the way he had wanted it to.

And yea, sure, you were getting a new flatmate and Joe had a difficult time not feeling some type of way about that, but, he had made the decision to move out and, look at you now.

“Do you think I can get a raise out of this? Or at least get a weird bonus, mid-term?”

Joe had a hard time not laughing at your question as he saw you had already mentally moved onto something else. You were stood in the middle of the room, both hands on your hips, eyes scanning the room. Everything tidy and organised.

“Joe, when did you last clean?”

Joe followed your gaze up into one of the corners of the ceiling.

“I cleaned today.” Joe said, knowing you’d likely not take it as an honest answer. You had lived together, remember? No fucking way was Joe ever going to feel the urge to maybe sometimes swipe a feather duster across the upper corners of his living room.

You shuddered at the thought of what resided behind his curtains there.

You sighed and tutted and turned back to Joe’s kitchen like you were going to start cleaning his fucking ceilings at half past ten at night.

“Hey, no. No, no. Stop. Will you come sit down a second? My god.” Joe huffed, feigning annoyance. When you turned on your heel and giggled as you scurried over, Joe let a laugh escape his throat just before you let yourself fall into the cushions next to him.

He hooked an arm around your neck to pull you in so he could press his nose into your cheek a second. You gladly let him, and when he held you close like that for longer than you initially thought he would, you suddenly realised you’d just been talking about yourself for twenty minutes straight.

Just barged in with unimportant thoughts on your mind that you just verbally vomited right into Joe’s space. You knew it was mostly nervous energy that was only there because your new flatmate picked up his keys earlier, which now meant there was every opportunity for someone to just... walk into your flat at any given time. That had unexpectedly brought on way more anxiety than you previously thought it would do.

Hence why you decided to just... escape it, and went over to Joe’s to spend the night there.

Joe was pressing his nose into your cheek and held you in place for a bit before he moved his head down, hiding into your neck a second.

“You okay?” you asked softly, head tilting down a bit.

“Mm, yea, fine.” Joe inhaled deeply, before pressing a few small kisses to the crook there and moving back to look at you the in eye. He unhooked his elbow from around your neck and placed two cupped hands on either side of your face, swiping bits of hair back in the process.

Joe was leant all the way back into the sofa, head squished in between two of the back cushions and you took a moment to look at each other. Joe studied your face and rubbed his thumbs across the apples of your cheeks until you grew shy.

“You look tired,” you softly said before Joe sat up a little and leant closer. It had you close your eyes just before scrunching up your nose as he kissed the very tip of it.

“I am tired.” He mused, copying your nose scrunch when you blinked your eyes open again, and Joe looked so soft. Sort of pleased with life, happy to be where he was and like he’d just had a really good productive day. He blinked slowly, eyes only half open, and looked sleepy enough to slip right into dreams the second his head would hit his pillow.

You loved him like this. His hands on you, all soft touches. Comfy and cosy and calm. Just you and him. No one else. No threat of someone randomly walking in.

This was perfect.

“Mmm, me too.” You smiled and let Joe grab one of your elbows to pull an arm across his stomach as he sat back again.

“I’m not surprised. You’ve just done a 5K as you tidied this room, I think.”

You huffed a laugh as you sank into Joe’s side, and then you sat like that in silence for a moment. No TV on. No phones in sight for some easy distraction. Just you and Joe and the view of his living room.

“Are you okay?” Joe suddenly asked, emphasis on the you, and you tried hiding the small, hitched intake of breath by quickly nodding and casually going, “Yea. Fine.”

You could feel how Joe tucked in his chin to look at you.

He waited. Wasn’t going to tell you, “No, be honest...”, but also wasn’t going to accept it and move on. It was still like that. He knew you were lying, and you knew he knew, no words shared at all.

So you sighed and took a second, and then said, “Josh picked up his key today.”

And you didn’t want to explain what that meant.

Didn’t want to tell Joe that, for a while, this existing-in-two-flats thing had just felt like a bit of a joke. Just the two of you playing and being silly about whatever you really were. You still sort of thought of him as a flatmate because he still came over all the time, and you went over to his all the time too. You existed in the same space almost just as much as before, sort of.

But now a new flatmate was actually moving in, and suddenly, it felt like reality had slapped you right across the cheek like it had done that day that Joe moved out.

You’d gotten to hide away for a lot of that.

And there was no real hiding this time around.

You couldn’t go home and pretend Joe was going to move back in eventually, because now Josh’s things were going to be all over the flat. Which was fine. Josh signed a lease. His things were allowed to be all over the place.

It was just... things were getting real now.

Shit was real.

“Which reminds me,” you suddenly piped up, pushing uncomfortable thoughts down, tucking those away for another time and place. “This is going to save you some money!”

You saw how Joe’s mouth slowly stretched into a smile as he watched how his own feet rubbed against yours. Then he caught himself and quickly furrowed his brow, saying, “No, I don’t think it works like that.”

You copied his expression, but were more confused than anything else.

“Of course it does. Josh signed the papers, he’s going to start paying rent now, you–”

“I said that I had taken care of things, didn’t I?” Joe interrupted you, fingers playing with the folds in your sleeve of the arm that rested over his stomach. “Can’t just not keep a promise like that.”

You blinked at him a second, then moved to sit up to stare at him harder. If both Joe and Josh paid rent, that basically meant that you... got to live for free for a while? That math wasn’t mathing. One plus one wasn’t equalling two here. You looked around Joe’s flat and tried to think of his own expenses, and... what the fuck was he doing?!

“Joe,”

“You’re not going to be able to talk me out of this.”

“Joe.”

Joe ignored you and faked a yawn, sped it up along with stretched out arms above his head and quickly said, “So tired. Bed?” before getting up and leaving you on his sofa as he left the room.

“You’re insane if you think I’m just going to accept that!” you called after him and heard him laugh from down the hall.

“Did you not just say you were after a weird mid-term bonus?”

And you hated how that made you smile. Made you punch one of the cushions and sink your teeth into your bottom lip begrudgingly as you forgot to breathe a second.

Joe smiled to himself too as he turned on the lights in his bathroom. It felt like he was winning a contest - there was no contest, no one to fight, not really, but, he was definitely winning.

“You coming?”

Breathe.

Calm down.

You could pretend to fight him on this once more in the morning.

Crawling into bed with Joe had its own little routine which was different from the one at yours. Different order of things, because the lay out of the flat was different.

Bathroom first. You brushed teeth together, always had to stop Joe when he washed his face too aggressively and then used your own moisturiser on him. “Just for your dry patches,” you’d always say, but would end up swiping delicate fingertips all over anyway. There’d be a snarky comment, of you using too much, of him feeling too greasy, of how he was going to stick to his pillow all night now, and then you’d always kiss him to shut him up before moving on to do your own skincare routine.

When you’d get into bed, Joe would already be in there, giving his phone a last once-over before he’d scoot down and get comfortable.

This time, however, when you walked into his bedroom, the lights were already off, and it looked like Joe was already falling asleep.

This soft man.

So sleepy.

He was all messy curls and bare arms, duvet tucked under them, curled up right in the middle of his bed. You slid in and cuddled up right behind him, hips against his bum, chest to his back.

You were right.

Joe was already falling asleep.

You pushed a leg in between his for warmth and snuck an arm around his front.

“You’re crazy,” you whispered into the skin of his shoulder which prompted Joe to grab hold of your hand and pull it into his chest so you were hugging him properly. The big spoon to his small one. Then he just hummed as you pressed a small kiss to his warm skin there.

“So crazy.” you nuzzled into his pillow, your nose rubbing his back as you did, and you felt how he ducked his head down to press a small kiss to your fingers.

You fell asleep warm, comfortable, and smiling.

You woke up in the same way.

Just on your stomach now, and with Joe’s heavy limbs slung over your body. When you turned over, it woke Joe up, and for five blissful early morning minutes, you tried crawling into each other’s skin as best you could. Breathed each other’s breath and tasted each other’s skin. Stroked hands underneath clothes and had fingers crawling into underwear, just to touch and to hold.

When you quietly asked if Joe wanted coffee, he groaned and told you to shut up. He was able to feel you giggle to that, and he could cry with how happy he felt in that moment. Why would you have to go and ruin it by getting up to go and make coffee?

“Five more minutes.”

“Mmm... it’s never just five.”

Joe sighed, “Just five.” speech slurring with early morning drowsiness and then burrowed himself into you even more.

And fine.

Joe could have five more minutes.

But then they easily turned into twenty, because they always did, and you had to eventually bribe Joe with breakfast for him to let you go so you could sit up.

“If you take a slow shower, I’ll have it ready when you finish.” You looked over your shoulder where Joe, still with his eyes closed, smiled widely. His nose was slightly red from pressing it into your skin, and his bedhead made you have to suppress a giggle that you hid by leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead before you got out.

Joe barely even felt that little grain of bad in his chest when he thought of how much he loved you.

Because he did.

Joe fucking loved you.

There was going to be a moment soon where he was just going to have to say it. It was going to spill out of him in some other way if he wouldn’t simply use the words, he just knew it.

Joe loved you as he watched through squinty eyes how you reached for a pair of white socks of his to borrow.

Loved you as he watched you pull one of his old sweaters over your head before you walked out, bare legs still on show.

Loved you when he stepped into his living room after his shower to the smell of burnt toast and scrambled eggs and coffee.

Loved you as he watched you step onto a chair in the corner of his room, wet dishcloth in hand to remove the strings of dust you had scolded him over the night before.

Loved you as he felt what the sight of your stretched body, your bare tighs, and the little peep of your bum did to him inside of his boxers.

Loved you as he groaned and let his head fall onto the counter, having to breathe through it, because you were just cleaning his living room, and not giving him a sensual striptease act or whatever.

Loved you as you looked back over your shoulder, raising your eyebrows in surprised confusion before accusingly asking, “Really, Joe? Cleaning?”

Loved you as he stutteringly defended the blood rush down south by saying, “You have no idea what you look like right now.” into his elbow where he had to hide his face for a second.

Loved you, loved you.

He was hardly able to deny any of it.

And he didn’t feel that he had to, either.

Because, you were there. In his flat. In his clothes. Cleaning his dusty ceiling corners. And wasn’t that just something he wanted to tell the whole fucking world about?

That small little green grain of doubt and worry and negativity dried out and got no sunshine to really grow into anything. Thank fuck.

He got to ignore it for a while.

Forgot about it entirely, and pretended it wasn’t even there for a bit.

It was easy.

Joe loved you.

He knew he did.

Would tell you soon.

Didn’t know how.

Or where.

But he was going to say it.

He was going to use his words because he was just a normal guy who loved a normal girl and you weren’t being weirdly secretive about what you got up to in private. At least, not how you used to be, anyway.

Joe loved you.

You brought Joe flowers and cleaned his ceiling and wore his clothes and cooked his breakfast.

Joe loved you, even though your new flatmate Josh turned out to be impossibly good-looking in addition to being incredibly kind as well, so Joe didn’t even get to have a real reason to dislike him at all, which seemed unfair, but, all right.

Joe loved you, even when suddenly two shiny black acoustic guitars appeared on your living room wall, because Josh worked in music, and wasn’t that just so cool?

Joe loved you, even though his very first thought after that was, well I know how to play guitar too, don’t I?! which you had never even mentioned before.

Joe loved you, even when he walked into your flat one evening and interrupted a dinner you were having with Josh and one of your friends and, look, Josh cooked for us, and for the first time ever, he felt uninvited and intruding.

Joe loved you, even when your friend jokingly said, “You’re over here at lot for someone that moved out.” right to his face, to which you then heartily laughed, because she was only joking, Joe, and then you didn’t say anything about how you were together, but, you were together... weren’t you?

Joe loved you, even when he stuck to the bit and handed you his flat key like he always did, expecting to find it in his coat pocket later, but then ended up finding both his pockets empty when he went home the next morning, which, yea actually, that made sense, because Josh lived there now, and it was a little weird to have a key still, wasn’t it?

Joe loved you, even when you had told him to come over on Friday evening because you’d had a shit day at work, and for the first time ever, he had to ring the doorbell to get inside.

Joe loved you, even when Josh was the one that answered the door, and Josh almost didn’t let him in, telling him, “Oh, she’s fallen asleep on the sofa, mate.” to which Joe just smiled as he stepped around him, because what the fuck did Josh even know about falling asleep on the sofa in this flat?

Joe loved you, even when he found you asleep on the sofa, curled up under a blanket he’d never seen before, with an empty pizza box bar some crusts still on the coffee table, and you never ate a whole pizza yourself, so that was obviously shared with someone else.

Joe loved you.

He knew he did.

But there was a playstation besides the TV now, and a cool record player on the side, pile of vinyl next to it, and, God.

Joe fucking hated this.

Whatever was inside of Joe’s chest, that thing he didn’t even want in there, was growing.

Was getting fed without Joe even fully realising he was feeding it.

He hated those guitars. He hated that he no longer had a key. He hated that stupid blanket. And he hated that empty pizza box.

Still, he sat down beside you and placed your socked feet onto his lap. Watched the last scenes of whatever film you’d put on as he slowly kneaded a foot and let you sleep, and he tried his best to not get bitten. To not let it sink its teeth in. To not let it hurt.

It was silly.

Joe was being silly.

Rational thought saved him.

Rational thought told him he still loved you.

And he hoped rational thought was going to be enough.

---

The Taglisted

@ali-in-w0nderland, @alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson,

@choke-me-eddie, @demonsanddemogorgons, @did-it-work, @dirtyeddietini, @djoseph-quinn,

@dolcevit4, @eddies-puppet, @emma-munson, @emotionaldreamer, @everythinghasafacee,

@figmentofquinn, @ghost-proofbaby, @ghostinthebackofyourhead, @hanahkatexo, @harringtonfan4,

@hazelenys, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @keikoraven, @kennedy-brooke,

@lovelyblueness, @manda-panda-monium, @mandyjo8719, @mexicanfolklore, @munsonluvrr,

@munson-mjstan, @nadixq, @nglharry, @notverywise, @pepperstories,

@phyllosilicate-s, @royale1803, @sherrylyn628, @sidthedollface2, @solzi1420,

@songforeddiemunson, @sweetberry47, @take-everything-you-can, @thebellenouvelle, @tlclick73,

@werepartnersnow, @winterwakesthewolf, @witchwolflea, @yelyahcardella, @yunirgo

taglist currently full, sorry

#Joseph Quinn #Joe Quinn #Joseph Quinn x You #Joe Quinn x You #Joseph Quinn x Reader #Joe Quinn x Reader #Joe Quinn Fanfic #Joe Quinn fanfiction #Joseph Quinn Fanfic #Joseph Quinn Fanfiction #joe quinn x y/n #joseph quinn x y/n #icallhimjoey #define close #explain us #reinvent love

194 notes · View notes

gremlingottoosilly · 8 months

Note

you/your anons have got me hooked on cyberstalker!König so here are some rando headcanons:

-will go through your likes on twitter and grit his teeth if he saw you liked a man/celebrities selfie, god forbid their a male friend because he will spiral into convincing himself that this is like cheating (you two have spoken once) and he has to do something about it

-if he saw you simping for someone casually he would have to step away and let his anger out in the gym because otherwise he would start weighing the pros and cons of murdering Henry Cavill or something

-has a dragons horde of items you liked/expressed interest in because he has a whole plan when he kidnaps you he would offer it as a way to calm you down. this plan is flawless obviously

-you liked a picture of cat ears and a maid outfit ONCE and he has jerked off to that mental image at least 5 times a week

-will try to get into the things you tweet about just to start a conversation but gives up halfway since he doesn't have the best attention span, tells himself that you'll just tell him about it when your together because he could listen to you for hours <3

-that is not hyperbole btw you once posted a video giggling at something your cat was doing and he has put in on in the background as he gets through his day

-has printed your selfies to cum on stare at because he can get headaches if he stares at a phone screen for so long (hes OLD your honor)

-everytime he likes a song/movie you enjoy it fully fuels his delusions that you two are soulmates

-has found your pinterest boards and already has a downpayment on a house that matches your preferred aesthetic perfectly

-kisses the screen when he sees your selfies. nothing to add to that its just something he does

-LOVED when the 'big boy' song went viral and saw you posting about loving it, again, you two are clearly soulmates

i didn't realize how long this is I am so sorry

Omg!! It's literally so perfect, you crawled in my head like a little bug and now you are munching on my brain and I would let you because you are just chill like that. Konig is an old-fashioned stalker who doesn't have time to literally stalk you, he is a busy man with a busy life, so he catches up with your socials instead!! More under the cut

He googles every term he doesn't understand, and reads recaps of whatever show you were watching, just so he could save time on actually watching it. He writes everything in a diary, every little detail because he knows a bit about internet safety from Hutch and he just knows that this precious data is far more protected in the front pocket of his vest, in a tiny and scrawny notebook. He saves every picture and prints it, just to see every tiny detail. Your favorite color, your favorite decorations. You like pink sanrio fluffy style of decor? He doesn't understand it, and don't see a point in just adding to the clutter, but he will buy you as much Hello Kitty and My Melody stuff as possible. Something minimalistic, but expensive? He understands it a bit more, and he is happy to finally use his money for something nice and not just beer. He would be grinning like a cat with the cream if you like video games -- especially the ones he likes, the violent action ones. He can't let go of the war even at home, and having a perfect game when he doesn't actually have to worry about being in danger but putting as many enemies down as possible is nice, really. You would have to explain the point of Minecraft to him though. The celebrity crush one omg!! Konig is insecure because if you like more normal, traditionally attractive male celebrities, he just knows he can't compete. However, there has to be something wrong with you if you really like Konig, so he doesn't mind - after you stop liking those celebs of course. God save you if you have some porn in your twitter likes - he would try to implement it in your sex life. Bondage? He already knows how to make really good knots. Cnc? It's basically your whole sex story already. He would never let you forget about every embarrassing little picture you liked, and he enjoys thinking of you as a perverted thing that needs some good punishment. If you do cosplay...oh boy. Even the most normal costumes are a good jerk-off material for him. Even if you cosplay male characters, he'd find a way to sexualize you -- it's not really nice of him, but this old man finally got what cosplay means and he is not letting go of this knowledge.

His soldiers think you're his wife already because he keeps your photo, a fucking collage of your photos, on his desk and a polaroid of you in his vest pocket. Poor ol' you, having stalking problems and not even knowing about it because he is too busy to actually court you.

#konig x reader #yandere konig #cod #konig

491 notes · View notes

schrodingers-romy · 8 months

Text

My Angel of the Sea [Tomioka Giyuu x Reader]

Pairing: Tomioka Giyuu x AFAB!reader

Summary: After a mysterious ocean creature helps save you, you have the chance to save him in return. And then, after you get closer, you get the chance to 'help' him in another way...

Warnings: Near-drowning, and a few mentions of anxiety resulting from this. Non-explicit mention of injuries. Reader has AFAB anatomy referred to with fem terms, but no other gendered terms are used. Graphic smut (MDNI). Biting. PIV sex. Heat/rut sex. Oviposition (whatever the egg thing is idk). Breeding. Weird sea creature anatomy. Very sweet for what was supposed to just be smut.

Word Count: ~8,700

Notes: First post of my little event, Strange Lovers. Also serves as a submission for @monster-october-kny-2023! This ended up being way longer than I thought lol. Also editing your own smut is very embarrassing. Mdni banner template courtesy of @cafekistune

[Ao3 Link]

The impact with the surface of the freezing ocean shocked the breath out of your lungs, and you began to sink.

It hurt. The boat was tall, the deck elevated off of the water quite a distance. It had taken a monumental gust of wind to tip it and you enough to where you went flying. From that height, hitting the water felt like getting thrown down onto concrete. It was a wonder you were still conscious.

After impact, you sank like a stone. Through all the pain, breathlessness, and shock, you only had one clear thought: ‘why me?’

There wasn’t supposed to be a storm today; you were nearly to the shore of your home, barely a half hour’s ride away in fair weather. The storm was supposed to pass by after you were already curled up in your little seaside shack with a book. But as always, mother nature was vindictive in her unpredictability. It seemed strange to name a force so powerful and uncaring mother.

She certainly wasn’t being motherly towards you now.

The freezing ocean was less a mother’s embrace and more like that of death. Scarcely had you thrashed your way to the surface for a breath before a white-crested wave forced you back under. The sheer force of it disoriented you, making you spin around in a panic for the direction of air.

Your lungs burned as you kicked yourself upwards again. This time, an even bigger wave shoved you back down, before you could even finish gasping for air. Saltwater flooded your mouth and lungs instead of oxygen, and you started to drown.

It was so much more painful than you would have thought. Your lungs were silently screaming for air, but opening your mouth just brought in more water. Your limbs, aching also from strain, didn’t have the oxygen needed to push your body to safety.

Your vision began to spot black, and the pain began to give way to the numbness of unconsciousness.

Before you were completely gone, your brain fired its synapses a final time to grace you with the hallucination of an angel.

He had an unnaturally pale face, with eyes as placid and blue as the sea on calm days. His long black hair formed a spiky halo around his face, accented with the fluttery bluish fins he had in place of ears. One of his webbed hands seemed to reach towards you.

This water angel was the last image you saw before your mind slipped into darkness.

You awoke spluttering, coughing what felt like the entirety of the ocean out of your sore lungs.

You were dazed, but surprisingly…alive, for someone who was nearly drowned in her last memories.

You looked around frantically. You were beached like a whale on the sand. A familiar sand…

Whipping your head around (which wasn’t the best idea judging by how a thunderous headache made itself known as soon as you moved your head), you saw you were home. You had washed up on the beach right in front of your home.

But how? You had been sure your life was slipping away…and you were quite a way from this shore when the storm threw you overboard. There was no way the sea had just washed you here with the tides…right?

But you had no other rational explanation to why you were here, alive, if a little battered and sore. It was simply a miracle.

But in the back of your mind, your hallucination of the water angel lingered.

He never left your mind.

Even though you knew he was just a figment of your oxygen starved brain, you found yourself thinking of him constantly during the next few days. Small scraps of paper filled with scratchy, unfinished sketches floated around your home. Each one had him on it; some were attempts at a full figure, but others were just a singular feature. None of them were right. Your hand wielding a pencil was insufficient to render the creature you saw so clearly in your mind’s eye.

Other affects of your near-death experience also lingered.

You hadn’t been back down to the beach since you had washed up there. Once you awoke, you stumbled your way up to your little cabin without looking back to the sea once. You had spent the next few days resolutely holed up in your home, nursing your injured body and mind. The cold shakes and soreness took warm liquids and time to cure, but they did improve. Your mind was another story.

You just couldn’t bring yourself to even look at the ocean then. You knew, logically, that it was a force of nature with no feelings or intentions, but you couldn’t help but feel betrayed. You loved the sea, choosing a remote place just a short walk to the water because you wished to walk the beach every morning just to watch it. You wanted to be able to look out your window and see it. You wanted to be alone, isolated, with it as your only companion. But this companion, this friend your imagination made of the water, didn’t exist. It cared not for you, it had no feelings to return. Still, it was a bitter blow to learn the thing you cared for so much could have so easily been your end.

But you knew you had to overcome this.

Maybe, you thought, if you just went down to the beach again…even if you had to make yourself go. Seeing it again would remind you of your love for it, and perhaps also erase thought of the water angel from your mind.

You took advantage of this temporary burst of courage. Slipping your shoes and a sweater on, you stomped out your way out the door and onto the path to the shore.

You couldn’t yet raise your gaze, keeping it trained on the path you stiffly walked down. You could hear the gentle lapping of the waves; the sea was once more calmed, the beast inside temporarily sated after the last big storm.

Once you could see nothing but sand surrounding your shoes, you stopped. With a deep breath in, you looked up.

It…was just as you remembered. Smooth, gradient blue marred only by a few patches of white foam on the crests of gentle waves. It was…beautiful, and you felt calm once more. This wasn’t the harsh sea of your nightmare, but the same sea you had seen every day for forever now. This was normal. You were fine.

Everything was normal, except for the thing on the rock.

It had taken you a second to notice it; the rock in question was close to the shore, but a bit to the left of your vision. You waded out sometimes and sat on it, when the tide was low and the ocean quiet. It made you feel like you were sitting atop the water.

You weren’t on the rock now, yet it was still occupied. At first you thought it was a normal man, but then…you froze.

It was him.

Your water angel, that is. Clear and shining in the light of day.

Seeing him again, you realized what he was. Not an angel, not really, but some sort of sea creature. Half of his body was passable human, but at his waist skin faded into dark blue iridescent scales, covering a fish-like tail. Patches of scales decorated his upper body also, and the webs between his fingers were obvious, as were the gill-slits on his neck.

He was acreature of myth, never something you thought was real…but there he was. Looking right at you.

Your eyes were locked with his. His looked even more vivid above the surface, pupils slitted from the bright sun. They seemed to bore into you.

Unconsciously, you took a step towards him. This seemed to break whatever sort of spell was created when your gazes met, because he flinched back slightly, and slipped back into the water.

You ran over to the rock, uncaring of the seawater soaking your shoes. But he was gone in a flicker of blue.

Your water angel wasn’t something made up by your dying mind. He was real, and you knew it now.

In direct contrast to how you spent the last few days, the next week of your life was spent almost entirely by the water’s side.

Now that you knew your water angel was real, you were desperate to see him again. You had to know about him; what he was, exactly, and why in the world would he bother to save you.

You knew it was him who saved you, not a miracle of the tide. But you just didn’t know why.

So, you spent almost all your time sitting on the beach, watching the water. The only times you went back to your house were to prepare food or sleep; even then, you sometimes fell asleep on the sand instead of your own bed. Every time you closed your eyes, you could see him plastered on your eyelids, a ghostly figure printed on the blackness.

On the eve of the seventh day, you had to return to your cabin more than previous days. It wasn’t particularly cold out, but the wind was chilly and harsh, so you had to return for a blanket and to refill your thermos with warm drinks. The sky turned steely gray, and the sea mirrored it in color. Eventually, your anxiety at seeing the increasingly large waves won out against your dedication to seeing the water angel again. It was going to storm soon, and nothing was going to keep you out in it. Not again. You couldn’t risk it again, especially since it appeared your water angel wouldn’t be here to save you this time.

So, reluctantly, you bundled yourself up in your blanket, grabbed the basket filled with your things, and trudged back up away from the churning dark water and towards your house.

The storm rolled in quickly after that, and you were grateful you decided to move when you did. The sky was completely black outside; you couldn’t see the water at all. You couldn’t see anything. The only information you had about the outside storm was from sound; the howling of the wind, the vicious sound of rain lashing against your windows, and the faint crashing of the sea in the distance.

Your sleep was fitful that night. You would like to blame it on the noise of the storm, but that wouldn’t be entirely true. Because when you finally were able to fall asleep, all you could see were the deep eyes of your water angel, widened in something that looked like…fear.

The sun was scarcely revealed by the clearing thunderclouds before you were up and running down to the beach.

The light glittered on the ocean, highlighting its calm cerulean surface. As if that same ocean wasn’t tearing at the shore mere hours ago in the middle of the storm.

The beach was covered in driftwood and drying seaweed, remnants of what the turbulent waves cast up the night before. You picked your way across the debris, making your way closer to the water’s edge. It was a bit of a futile task; you hadn’t seen your water angel when you scanned the ocean earlier, and it wasn’t as if getting a few feet closer to the water was going to make any difference. Yet you still kept walking towards the ocean.

It was only when you were nearly stepping into the sea that you saw it. A flicker of blue in amongst the piles of wood.

Could it be?...

It was likely it was just a rock or a piece of sea glass, but you had to check. So, you went to take a closer look.

Up close, it was clear that what you saw was a patch of blue scales, buried under a pile of wood and matted seaweed. Your heart was beating a staccato rhythm in your chest. It could be just a fish, you told yourself. It might not be him.

But you worked quickly in removing the debris all the same. The seaweed was slimy and unpleasant feeling against your hands, but any thoughts of disgust flew out of your head when you saw what you had uncovered.

It was him. Your water angel.

Spread out on the damp sand, he looked considerably less ethereal than the night you met. He was rag-dolled across the ground in what looked to be an uncomfortable position. His eyes were closed, as if he was simply sleeping; but the dried blood painting half of his face told a different story.

You kneeled next to him, uncaring of the sand on your clothes. Up close, it was clear he was still alive; his chest rose and fell, if shallowly. Hesitantly, you reached out to touch his head. His hair was soft, even when dry and tangled, but you were much more concerned with looking for the source of the blood.

It appeared to be coming from a gash on his head, mostly hidden by his hair. It was nasty, but it wasn’t bleeding anymore. From just looking over him, he didn’t seem to have any other injuries, other than minor scrapes and bruises, so it was likely he had hit his head on something and been knocked unconscious.

You…weren’t entirely sure what to do, but there was no way you were just leaving him here. He could clearly breath out of the water, but he was an ocean creature, so he probably shouldn’t be kept out of the water too long, lest his skin…or scales… dry out. And it couldn’t hurt to clean the gash on his head, either.

Mind made up; you stalked off to seek supplies.

You made your way back with a garden cart full of first aid supplies and a rough plan you had cooked up on the walk. The first order of business would be to at least clean his wounds. Typically, you would bandage them as well, but…that would require keeping the bandages dry. And that would be virtually impossible while also trying to keep his skin from drying out, so a simple cleaning it was. The second step would be to somehow get him into the garden cart and haul him off to one of the larger tide pools a little farther down the shore. Your first thought was to bring him to your home and place him in your bathtub, so you could monitor him, but that wouldn’t work. Though his torso was about average sized for a human man, his tail made him somewhere around seven feet from the top of his head to the trailing tips of his tailfins. There was no way you could fit him comfortably in the tub, and you weren’t sure about putting a sea creature in a bathtub with fresh water. From what little you knew of fish, which he about half resembled, it could be deadly to shift the salinity of the water they were in. You could be wrong, but you didn’t want to take any chances. With the tidepool, it would be filled with the very same salt water you saw him swim in before, but even at high tide it would be shallow and calm.

Plan in place, it was now just executing it.

You started with his head wound first. First, you rubbed the dried blood off his face, revealing his delicate visage. You still stood by your first assessment of him; he did look angelic. The perfect symmetry of his face, the elegant line of his nose and the sooty brush of his eyelashes…it was all so well put together it became inhuman. His skin was cool and slightly clammy to the touch, and you wondered if that’s what it always felt like. The fins on the side of his face felt surprisingly delicate, and you made sure to be extra careful in wiping them clean. His hair was soft, a lot softer than you would have assumed; your hair always turned unpleasantly crunchy after drying from salt water.

You did your best to clean the dried blood from his skin and detangle it from his hair. There was still some left, around the area of the gash, but you were too nervous to scrub at it lest the scab come off and continue bleeding again.

You moved on to the rest of his body. There wasn’t much you could do about the bruises, but you could at least wipe down the scrapes and cuts. The rest of his skin felt similarly clammy, but the patches of scales littering his body were smooth and dry. They were small and scattered, until about his waist level, where they slowly faded into larger and harder scales at his tail. Even just lightly brushing down his body, you could feel the muscle beneath skin and scales. He must be a powerful swimmer, you mused.

Then you were faced with what would be your most difficult task yet: getting him into the cart.

You didn’t consider yourself a weak person, but there was a clear difference between being weak and not being able to lift a probably almost two-hundred-pound sea creature gently into a rickety cart.

You sighed. This would be quite an ordeal.

It took the better part of an hour, but finally he was settled into the tide pool. He looked perfectly angelic floating a few inches beneath the water’s surface, head cushioned on a seaweed-covered rock while his hair floated out in a halo around him. He looked much better when he was clean of blood and back under the water. Unfortunately, the same could not be said of you.

You were caked with sand, from kneeling to tend to his wounds and from flailing around trying to lift him. You were also soaked from sea water and no small amount of sweat. Overall, you were a complete mess in desperate need of a shower. However reluctant you were to simply leave your water angel to float in his pool, you needed to clean yourself. And to get some food.

Your eyes lingered on the creature once more before you left. Maybe you could make yourself another picnic. And maybe you should bring some extra food for him. You probably couldn’t go wrong with some fish, right?

It was strange sitting next to the creature while you ate your meal. It felt like sitting beside a hospital bed waiting for a coma patient to wake up, and a little bit like having lunch by a corpse. Not exactly the most appetizing, but your struggles getting him over into the tide pool had generated enough hunger to override the slight morbidity.

You began to wonder if you would need to bring out a blanket and camp out overnight, because who knew when your creature would wake up. Or even if he would at all, you thought, and the idea sent a strange pang through your chest.

Your gaze drifted to the sand. You didn’t know him at all, and yet your life was connected to his. And if he lived, his to yours.

Your musings were broken by a splashing noise.

The creature was upright now, partially. He was facing you, head and shoulders above the water and webbed hands gripping the rock. His wide blue eyes bored into yours. He looked stunned; there was also an edge of fear in his gaze.

He was finally awake.

You were the first to break the silent staring contest you both were stuck in ever since he awoke.

“Hi,” you said, breathless. “Thank you for saving me. It was you, right?”

He tilted his head to the side slightly, and you didn’t know if this was an acknowledgement of what you’re saying or not.

You continued anyway. “I found you on the beach. I…didn’t really know what to do, so I cleaned you off and brought you here, so you would hopefully be safer than where you were.”

His face was still blank as he watched yours. Finally, he reached one pale hand out towards you, like he was asking for something. You thought he was asking for some of the fish you brought out for him, and moved to give it to him. That wasn’t the right answer, apparently, as he let out a low hissing sound that caused you to startle and drop the food into the sand.

He held his hand out again, looking at you expectantly. You didn’t have anything else you could hand him, so you just looked at him in confusion.

He let out another noise, this one more of a low coaxing churr. His eyes glanced down towards your hand, then back up to your face. He repeated the churr.

Oh, you realized. He wanted your hand. You’re a bit hesitant, because the black claws on the tips of his fingers look wickedly sharp. But he looked so earnest…so you placed your hand in his.

You immediately regretted it.

Quick as lightning, he used his iron grip on your hand to yank you forward, until you tumbled into the tidal pool with him.

Your face went under the water for what was probably only a fraction of a second, but it was enough to ratchet your heartrate up to a dangerous speed. You had still not completely forgotten drowning.

Luckily for you, the creature took mercy on you and hauled you up until you were sitting up, half out of the water and balanced on the thick width of his tail. Still, you were once again soaking and spluttering, and you tried to yank your hand out of his grip again.

“What was that!?” you screeched at him, not expecting an answer.

“I’m sorry.”

You were left gaping at him. His mouth hadn’t opened at all, but you heard a voice, clear as crystal. “…What?”

“I’m sorry for pulling you into the water like that. I didn’t know how to get you into the water with me otherwise…” He let go of your hand, and moved that arm to rest behind your back, supporting you so you didn’t tumble back into the water. “You see, I can only speak to you when you are in the same water as me. I wanted to thank you. For taking me off of the beach, and for making sure I was safer. I probably would have been fine, but…it was nice. Of you. To do that. So thank you.”

Your mouth was dry. You had no idea what you were supposed to do or say now. “It was nothing. I just couldn’t stand to leave you there if I could help it. Anyway, it was the least I could do in return for you saving me, even if I don’t know why you did it.”

“You were scared. I could feel it. You were scared, and you were dying. It’s as you said before – I couldn’t leave you there if I could help it.” He sounded so earnest, and all of a sudden you were so so grateful that he happened to be there at the right moment to help you.

Overwhelmed, you threw your arms around his neck and pulled him into a hug. “Thank you for saving my life.”

He was stiff and cold under you, arms hovering awkwardly behind your back like he didn’t know what to do with them. “Ah…you’re welcome.” One hand came down to gently pat you on the back. You found yourself smiling at his small attempt at comforting you.

You pulled back, noticing how he shivered lightly at the brush of your fingertips on his shoulders as your arms retreated.

Your mood sunk a bit when your attention dropped back to the light scrapes and bruises decorating his skin, multicolored splatters on the pale canvas of his torso. “I’m sorry, did I hurt you? When I hugged you? I should have been gentler, you’re injured still –”

“It’s okay,” he said, placatingly. “I barely feel them.”

You pursed your lips together. “What about your head?”

At this, he winced. “Sore.”

“What even happened to you?”

He broke eye contact with you, for the first time. His face was still blank, but you thought you could see a flicker of something akin to embarrassment in the tidal depths of his blue eyes. “I got caught up in the storm…I should have gone farther out to deeper water, but I didn’t think about it. I’m not used to the shallows. The last thing I remember was getting swept up in a wave, and then I woke up here. I think I must have hit my head on a rock.”

Your lips tilted down even further, now a full frown. “Why were you in the shallows, then, if you aren’t used to them? I thought fish species typically stayed around the same ocean depth their whole lives?” It took you a second to realize what you said, and then you could feel yourself flush. “I mean I wasn’t comparing you to a fish! You’re clearly much more advanced than that! Much smarter. And better. Um.”

He seemed amused by your floundering. “It’s okay. I know what you meant; I’m not offended. I’m glad you think I’m better than a fish.”

You realized he was teasing you, if lightly, and you felt yourself flush even more. “Well, Mr. Better-than-Fish, what were you doing in the shallows?”

He broke eye contact again. He was embarrassed, it was clearer to you now. “…I wanted to check on you. To make sure you were alive.” He paused, drawing his eyes back from the horizon to your face. “You weren’t on the beach anymore, but I couldn’t see you for several days. I didn’t know if you lived somewhere else, and had already gone home, or if something had happened to you. I was hoping to see you on the beach again, just so I would know you were safe. And then I did see you. But I never meant for you to see me again.”

“Why did you stick around?” you said softly. “You saw me. You could have left then, and I would have never seen you again.”

“Maybe I liked seeing you. Maybe I liked watching you look for me, every day.”

Your breath hitched. “You could have come to me before now.”

“My kind aren’t supposed to interact with humans.”

“Your kind?”

“Mer, I suppose, is what humans call us.”

Ah. That makes sense, you thought. Mer. “I thought of you as an angel. A water angel.”

“Why?” He asked. There was the lightest dusting of cherry-blossom pink over the tops of his cheekbones.

“Because you appeared to me when I was on the brink of death.” You paused, debating on whether or not you should elaborate. “And because you were beautiful. Are beautiful.”

The pink on his cheeks deepened to a shade of rose. He was, in fact, still beautiful. Especially with that blush. You were glad you had chosen to speak your mind, if only so you got to see his cheeks darkening prettily like that.

“Sorry, I don’t think I ever introduced myself,” you said, sheepishly. You told him your name.

He repeated it, and you felt a tingle go down your spine at hearing it in his voice. “My name is Giyuu.”

“Giyuu.” You repeated. “Well, it’s nice to finally meet you, Giyuu.”

He gave you a small smile. “Likewise.”

Giyuu then turned, looking back out into the sea. “I suppose I should go now that I’m awake.”

A bolt of fear went through you, more severe than you ever would have expected. You found you couldn’t bear the thought of letting him go and possibly never seeing him again; not after you had just found him. “You should stay here,” you blurted out. “To heal, I mean. I can bring you food, and whatever you need. But you need rest.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, hesitantly. “I don’t want to cause you trouble.” A flicker of what almost looked like relief flashed through his eyes. Maybe he also did not want to leave you. This was the same Giyuu who stuck lingered for days just to watch you…perhaps he really did wish to spend more time with you. You could only hope he felt a sliver of the desire to remain as you felt to keep him with you.

“Positive.”

“Okay,” he replied softly.

The rest of your next week was spent with Giyuu. Every day, you would wake up, prepare breakfast for the both of you, and set off towards the tidal pool.

You would arrive to him doing slow laps around the pool; he would immediately swim over to the edge of the water to greet you, his ebony hair dripping water down his shoulders and across his torso. He didn’t ever pull you into the water anymore, and instead you would remove your shoes and socks and dangle your feet into the water while the rest of you stayed safe and dry on the rocks. And the two of you would just eat, and talk.

You would only really leave him to go retrieve more food, get a few restless hours of sleep, or to get human objects to bring down and show him. A majority of the time you spent soaking in his presence; your feet were almost permanently pruned at this point, but you wanted to hear him speak, so at least one limb was partially submerged at all times.

Likewise, he would never be anywhere else; when you were gone, you assumed he slept and swam in circles around the pool, but he abandoned whatever he was doing the second you showed up to talk with you.

You talked about anything and everything under the sun. You did not feel any reluctance in telling him all about your life, more than you think you’ve ever told one person. He was fascinated not just by the human world you described, but with you. You had never talked so much about yourself, but you didn’t feel self-conscious. Even talking about your greatest regrets, your deepest anxieties and fears…you found yourself spilling them to him and receiving soft reassurances in return. Even when he was awkward, and clearly didn’t know what to say, he tried his best, and he was earnest in his attempts to make you feel better. That alone was always enough to lift your mood.

Of course, you asked him about his life as well. You learned about what life was like as a mer, and what his family was like, before their passing. He told you about the other mer he met later on, about how they weren’t cruel to him, but they weren’t always kind, either. He said it was his fault, simply because he was hard to talk to. He confessed to you that he believed they all hated him, even though he did not want them too. He just didn’t know how to get close to anyone, not anymore. He even told you, in the softest of whispers, how he wondered sometimes if everyone hated him, and he would never again have the kind of love that he had with his family. You tried your best to console him, telling him you couldn’t imagine anyone hating him. “And if they do,” you added, “Which I’m sure they don’t, you always have me.”

He gave you another one of his small, but genuine, smiles, and replied, “Maybe I should just stay here with you forever.”

“I wouldn’t mind,” you said, and the subject was dropped. But you didn’t forget it. You only hoped that he was genuine…because you truly wouldn’t mind him staying by you forever.

But deep in your heart, you knew he couldn’t stay in that small pool indefinitely. You were already sure he was completely healed; most of his scrapes had faded to white lines by now, and the bruises were gone. Even the gash on his head was more than halfway healed, and he didn’t give any indication of having headaches or anything of the sort. And you saw him looking out, into the ocean…he needed the space.

You would just savor the time you did have; savor the talks, savor the sight of his elegant face covered in rice crumbs from messily eating the sushi you provided him, savor the sight of his powerful body gliding through the water effortlessly. You would make the most of your time before his inevitable departure; you would make enough memories with him to last you his impending absence.

It only took until you were used to your new routine for something drastic to occur.

You began your day as normal, making the short trip down to the tidal pools with a spring in your step. You had made a new type of food for Giyuu to try, and you were excited to see his reaction. You noticed that your overall mood had improved ever since he became a regular fixture in your life. Maybe you were lonelier than you thought, living in your remote little cabin by the sea.

However, once you arrived, you were greeted with a seemingly empty pool. No sign of Giyuu anywhere.

Your hands tightened on your picnic basket. Could he have slipped back out into the sea overnight? There was quite the expanse of rocks separating the pool from the main body of the sea, but it could be possible… You just didn’t know why he would leave you without even a goodbye.

Your heart clenched uncomfortably in your chest. Perhaps he really didn’t care for you as much as he seemed to…or as much as you cared for him. Perhaps he just needed the food, and had to keep the one giving it to him happy…

You crept closer to the pool, peering in from the edge. Finally, you saw something.

You exhaled in relief, shoulders untensing. He hadn’t left; instead, he was lying on the bottom of the pool. At first you thought he was sleeping, but his eyes were open, and he was flicking his tail back and forth like he couldn’t get comfortable.

You sat down, setting your basket aside. You gently patted the surface of the water a few times, creating small ripples that echoed out from where your hand touched. You saw Giyuu freeze suddenly.

In a second, his head was poking up over the water. Only his head breached the water, however, and he remained outside of reach from where you sat on the rocks.

Not only was his behavior that day strange, but he looked…sick. His face was flushed red, as if he was fevered, and his eyes were blown wide. He was breathing heavily as well, too heavily for how little he was moving.

“Are you okay?” you asked, brows furrowed.

He nodded jerkily, obviously lying. “I’m fine. You should just go back up to your cabin.”

“No!” you said, incredulously. “You look sick. I’m not leaving you here when something is obviously wrong.”

He let out a low rasping sound, almost a growl, startling you. You had never heard anything like that from him…it was deep, aggressive, and animal.

“No. You need to leave. Now.”

You scowled. “I refuse. Tell me what’s wrong.”

He dove back under the water in lieu of replying.

“Hey!” you yelled. Normally, you wouldn’t push him if he said he wanted space. But it was clear that something was wrong with him, and he was hiding it from you. What if you could help, and things just got worse because he was too stubborn to get your help?

You stood up, and made to start wading deeper into the pool, uncaring about how your clothes were getting soaked. If he was going to be like that, you would just have to chase him down.

It wasn’t the most well-thought-out plan; he was a much better and faster swimmer than you, built for the water while you were built for dry terrain. The pool wasn’t large, but it was big enough for Giyuu to swim around comfortably, meaning he could feasibly stay out of your reach by just swimming away. He could also stay under the water indefinitely, a skill you sadly lacked. It didn’t help that you were still hesitant to submerge yourself, your mind still lingering on its vivid memories of drowning.

Yet you didn’t think about any of this, your mind clouded with annoyance, and more prominently, worry.

You were nearly all the way submerged. The water was lapping gently at the dip of your collar bone, and your heartbeat had kicked up against your will. Your breaths were shallower than normal, dormant anxiety forming iron bands around your lungs, but you pushed past it. You were in no danger; there were no waves, the water wasn’t deep, and you were a reasonably competent swimmer. You were just about to dive into the water when he reappeared.

Unlike before, this time he was close. Close enough for your slightly gasping breaths to shift his wet hair. Up close, his condition seemed even more severe. His eyes were nearly all black now, deep blue covered by the spreading inkblots of his pupils. He was still red and panting, mouth open, revealing long, needle-like teeth.

“Why don’t you just leave?!” he said. His voice was deeper than usual, rough. You could hear a low growl starting up in his chest again, so low you could almost feel it through the water. “Don’t you understand how hard you’re making this for me? I’m trying so hard…”

“What are you talking about?” you asked, almost pleadingly. “I don’t understand. You just look like you’re in pain. You can’t expect me to ignore that!”

He bared his teeth, growling getting louder. “I’m not sick. I’m not hurt. But you need to leave. So you don’t get hurt. So I don’t hurt you.”

Your gaze softened. “Oh, Giyuu…I trust you. You wouldn’t hurt me. I just want to help you. Let me help you.” Impulsively, you reached one hand out to graze your fingers over his cheek.

He let out a full-body shudder at your touch, eyes slipping shut. When he reopened them, there was something dark in their depths.

“Do you really want to know what’s wrong with me?” Deceptively strong hands grabbed onto your waist, pulling you until your body was flush with his. You let out a gasp.

Through your wet clothes, you could feel the ridges of his muscles, the light pinch of his claws on your hips…and something else, against your front. Something large, and stiff, pressed between your bodies.

Your breath hitched. Was that…?

“I don’t think I told you before…” he purred, “But Mer have mating seasons…where all we want to do is fuck…and breed. Normally, I would just hide away, ride it out on my own…But then you had to come here, tempting me. How am I supposed to resist such a lovely creature bringing me food…taking care of me…acting like they want to be my mate? Offering to ‘help me’ with my rut? Don’t you realize what you do to me, baby?” He pulled you close again, grinding against your stomach almost unconsciously.

You could not even speak, only letting out a small squeaking noise as he rubbed against you. Mate? Breed? You knew he wasn’t human, but this…you should have been repulsed, or at the very least offput by this information. Instead, you could feel liquid heat pooling in your abdomen like molten lava.

His hands flexed on your hips, claws ripping through your clothes and scratching your bare skin. Then he let you go, leaving you to quickly flounder to keep your face above water. He looked like it physically hurt him to tear himself away from you, teeth clenching and muscles flexing as he hovered an arm’s length away from you.

“You need to leave if you don’t want this,” he said, panting heavily. “Because I won’t be able to hold myself back if you stay.”

The obvious answer was to take the chance and run. To not agree to get fucked by a sea creature. Go back and hide in your cabin until this was all over, and then continue as you were until Giyuu inevitably left you and all of this faded away like a dream.

And yet…he was beautiful. Ethereal, strong, and even caring…the thought of being bred by him was intoxicating.

You didn’t leave. “Fuck me,” you said, voice a little shaky, yet confident in your decision.

With those two words, he was on you.

Giyuu’s claws were back, this time ripping your clothes right off you. Soon, you both were surrounded by a halo of floating fabric scraps; even your underwear was not spared.

Divested of this one last barrier between you, hands on your hips yanked you back against him. He resumed grinding on you, frantically; you couldn’t see much of him because of the water, but you could feel him. His cock was thick, with ridges running along the length of it; you couldn’t get a good judge of his length with his movements, but you knew it would reach deep inside of you.

He wasn’t providing you any sort of real stimulation, humping your body like a dog in heat but missing where you were hottest. The water was disguising the wetness that you knew would otherwise be dripping down your thighs. He hadn’t even done anything, but you were more aroused than you could ever remember being, just hearing his panting in your ear as he chased his own pleasure, feeling the strange clicking, purring sound vibrating in his chest.

But it wasn’t enough for him.

He let go of your waist just to swim under you and hook his arms under your knees, lifting you up out of the water only to pull you back down so your exposed pussy rubbed directly against his cock.

You let out an embarrassing whine as you felt the ridges on his dick slide against your clit. You threw your arms around his neck to grip on his hair, pulling a light rolling growl out of him.

He ground against you a few times, fucking his cock between the swollen folds of your labia. You couldn’t hold back your own noises when you felt him nudge against the little nub at the apex of your sex, sending little electric jolts of pleasure up your spine.

And then the pointed tip of his cock caught against your entrance.

Giyuu froze for a second, wide, black eyes gazing into yours as you panted into each other’s mouths. You became hyper-aware of every sensation. You could feel the flutter of his gills tickling your forearms; the sensation of his damp hair tangled up in between your clenched hands; his webbed hands braced on your back, claws definitely leaving thin scratch mark in your flesh.

And then your focus was drawn back to a single point as he thrust his cock fully into your soaking pussy.

You let out a shriek. You weren’t exaggerating about his size earlier; you felt completely split open. Your poor cunt was trying valiantly to clench around him, but he had you gaping so much you couldn’t do more than lightly flutter your inner walls around his length. He was long, reaching up all the way to prod at the entrance of your womb. You could have sworn you could taste him in your throat, he was so deep.

He let out his own moan. “I’m so deep in you baby,” he said, almost deliriously. “I can feel it--uh--can’t you? I’m filling up your whole pussy.”

You moaned. “Yesss…can barely fit you…so big…”

He thrust into you, slowly, only once, like he was trying to get you used to it. You could almost count all of the strange ridges lining his cock as they ground against every sensitive spot inside of you, making you let out another gush of fluid to get washed away by the gently lapping water.

You clenched on him again, tugging at his hair. This seemed to rip away the last of his restraint.

He started thrusting into you rapidly, pulling you almost completely off of his cock only to force you back down as he simultaneously flexed his tail up, impaling you onto his thick length. It was like he was carving the perfect space for himself into your pussy, ridges sawing against your walls, making them even more sensitive. His tip slammed perfectly against your cervix, as if begging entrance to your womb, so he could breed you more directly.

The sheer overwhelming sensation of having all the nerves in your soft, wet cunt pressed and scraped against by his massive cock caused you to come almost immediately. Your head lolled back as you rode out your orgasm, waves of electric heat pulsing through you like waves crashing against the shore. You clenched down hard on Giyuu’s still-moving length, your pussy gripping every bump like it was trying to seal him inside you.

“Ohh, baby, so perfect for me…” he slurred. “Perfect mate, made just for me—”

You could do nothing more than whine, as he continued to abuse your pussy at the same frantic pace as before, almost ignoring your pathetic attempts to squeeze around him as you were pushed into overstimulation.

Your mind was starting to drift…after around the third time, you lost count of how many times you had come. It didn’t matter anyway, because no matter how many times you clenched around him and cried your way through orgasm, he never let up his tempo, continuing to fuck you as if it was the only thing keeping him sane. You would have thought he was completely in his own mind, unaware of the delicious damage he was doing to your body, if it wasn’t for the intermittent churrs of praise he panted into your ringing ears. These were interspersed by nips and bites to your neck and shoulders; you were so deep in pleasure that his needle-sharp teeth burned in a good way as they repeatedly pierced your spin, leaving bleeding marks decorating your skin red.

You were nearly unconscious by the time his rhythm finally faltered, his strokes turning harder and sloppier, no longer with the perfect staccato tempo of before. You would think your nerves would be too worn out to feel anything, but he still managed to hit your cervix hard enough to send an almost painful shock of pure sensation through you.

“M’gonna breed you now,” he whined, sounding absolutely wrecked, even though, by your count, he was the one wrecking you. “Gonna fill you up so good--my pretty mate—"

“Please,” you managed to eek out, tongue heavy in your mouth.

He thrust into you one last time, hitting the tip of his cock against the entrance to your womb as he came.

You could tell when he was about to come because his whole cock seemed to twitch inside you, and the ridges swelled up even more, until he was completely plugging your pussy, with no chance of pulling out. Then, he filled you with his come.

But…it wasn’t come, your orgasm-drunk mind realized after a minute. Your pussy was being filled to bursting with what felt like small, jelly-like spheres…

You let out a broken moan. He was breeding you. He was filling you with his eggs.

The steady pulse of eggs seemed to go on for eternity; the sensation of being filled so much caused you to orgasm again, more of a dry shudder at this point than anything else, but it caused Giyuu to coo at you and stroke his cool, sticky tongue over your lips in a mockery of a first kiss.

You let him lap fully into your mouth, closer to a proper kiss, even if it was messy and dripping…you tried to suck on his tongue, but it was too long, and he ended up fucking it in and out of your throat instead.

Once the eggs finally stopped, Giyuu gently ground into your throbbing pussy until he filled you even more, this time with a warm pulse of thick, sticky liquid that spread out in between what little gaps were left by his eggs. You could feel his whine vibrating up though his mouth into yours and he stilled completely for the first time in ages.

He pulled his tongue out of your throat to roughly whisper praise to you, but you barely heard any of it as your body slipped into blissful unconsciousness, its ordeal finally over.

You awoke to Giyuu cradling you in his arms, gently licking at the bite marks that scattered your neck and shoulders. He had pulled out, leaving your full cunt to drip his come slowly into the water. You felt bloated, and sore, and your neck stung, but you also felt a bone deep satisfaction.

“You’re awake,” he turned your head so he could look into your eyes. His pupils had shrunk back down to normal, revealing the deep ocean blue once more. “I’m sorry for hurting you,” he whispered, stroking a fingertip lightly along the red and inflamed puncture wound he had caused, eyes drifting to them, almost regretfully. “I couldn’t hold myself back…”

“It’s okay,” you said, voice raspy from screaming. “It felt good.”

He didn’t seem convinced; his face was back to its normal blankness, but you could see the faint furrow between his brows.

Seeing his distress, you lifted an arm up to pull his head towards you, pressing your lips together softly. This kiss, unlike your first, was chaste, just a brief meeting of lips, but it was enough to relax him. You gave him a small smile. “You’re so sweet, taking care of me,” you cooed, only slightly teasing him. It was amusing to see the creature who had just fucked your brains out mere hours ago blush prettily at being called ‘sweet’.

You would miss him dearly when he left you. He must have seen your face drop, because his mood shifted towards the melancholy as well.

“Still…I should have held back. I didn’t want it to happen like that.” He murmured, tucking his face into your neck, still ashamed.

You froze, hand mid-way through stroking his hair. “What do you mean?”

“I wanted to make you my mate before this,” he replied, “I had a plan…I was going to court you, once I was well enough to leave. Mer court their mates with gifts, and I have nothing here, even though you bring me things every day. But I had forgotten about my cycle, and here we are.”

You almost couldn’t believe your ears. “You want me to be your mate?”

He pulled back to look at your face quizzically. “I thought I had made that clear before.”

“No,” you squeaked.

His face dropped. “I thought my intentions were obvious…I thought you reciprocated, but it’s okay if you don’t. I thank you for your help anyways. I can leave whenever you want.”

“No!” you blurted again. If you knew nothing else, you knew you wanted him to stay. “Mates, that’s like marriage, right? We’ll be each other’s?”

He nodded, face still carefully empty.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, tugging him until your noses brushed. “That sounds wonderful. You being mine, me being yours…I don’t mind it if you leave when you want, as long as you remember to come back to me.”

“I’ll always come back for you baby,” he said, smiling softly as he kissed you lovingly. “My lovely mate.”

You had known him only a few days, but you couldn’t imagine your life without him anymore. He lit up your days, just with his presence; he made you happier than you had been in a very long time. You should have been more cautious, instead of immediately promising yourself to him, but the soft, syrupy warmth you felt as he kissed you was intoxicating. You only hoped that this sensation would never go away.

#giyuu x reader #giyuu tomioka x reader #giyuu smut #tomioka giyuu x reader #tomioka giyuu #kny smut #kny #mdni #kny x reader #monster-october-kny-2023 #writing tags like i'm throwing spaghetti at the wall #romy can write #strange lovers event #afab reader

488 notes · View notes